#he stood firm for what he believed in and i respect that
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Even though I did not ship them, I will always be a little bit heartbroken over how the relationship between Gale and Katniss ends. They were like family to one another, so essential to the other’s survival, the only person Katniss could be herself around for a long time before the games. They were so close that the other’s family become their own, with Katniss taking care of Gale’s family and vice-versa. They knew each other so well, were so acquainted with one another’s ticks and heartbeats and quirks. I really enjoyed their friendship and it’s so so sad to me to watch them drift apart during the third book until they finally just cut contact with one another. I will always be an Everlarker, do not get me wrong, but Katniss and Gale’s friendship was so special and it sucks the way it ended. It just goes to show that war really does taint every relationship, every part of your life, everything that makes you the person you are.
#:(#gale hawthorne#katniss everdeen#the hunger games#thg#i will never hate gale#he’s irritating and selfish at times and pushy yes#but i still liked him#he was brave and a hero regardless of his rage full tendencies#district 12 wouldn’t have survivors if it weren’t for him#he stood firm for what he believed in and i respect that#even if i disagree over the method#ughhh i literally do not hate any character in this series but snow#all i want for everyone is for them to be happy damn!#wondering if i should use the ship tag or not#i don’t think i will since it’s purely for shippers so i’ll keep this out of there
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Hello again! I was wondering if you still do requests and if so, can I request a Severus x reader but platonic? Like we've all read Sev being like a guardian of sorts to students but what if reader is like the prof that cares for Sev when he was a student? Like Severus' favorite teacher is reader cause not only is she smart and teaches well but she has a soft spot for Sevy and is one of the profs that punishes the marauders every time she catches them bothering Snape. Snape can see her as a mother figure that even up to the point that Sev actually became a teacher he still goes to her for his problems and she just babies him lol. (Reader was once the youngest teacher to teach in Hogwarts before Snape took that role)
Alright alright gonna do this now!
Platonic Severus snape x fem reader
All my respect
Severus had a rocky relationship with adults from a very young age that’s for sure, his home life and neighborhood left little in his faith for grown ups.
It was a rocky two first years when he couldn’t even trust his head of house let alone another professor, he felt uncomfortable if he had to seek his head of house for help, he preferred to suffer in silence, even if it meant having to sit in aching bruises from his bullies until he learned how to brew a cooling balm.
No one did a thing to genuinely help him, no one, he hated how everyone overlooked him, how They saw him just as a weird kid who others avoid for no reason but that they didn’t understand him.
That continued until his third year, after a brutal beating from Sirius and his wand almost snapping in half, he remembers it very clearly he was sitting in the hall feeling the entire world was against him.
Then you came, young looking and worried, at the time you were only 28 years of age, he knew you were the new hired substitute professor for charms.
He expected to be scolded and sent to his dorm but instead you kneeled down and without even asking a question tended to his injuries self, he flinched when you first touched his face but that didn’t stop you from applying some healing balm and checking his medical chart with your wand.
He was speechless to say the least, no one ever cared this much about him…even his mother…
"Tell me who did this to you and I don’t want any lies little boy" you tried to sound firm but he could tell you were still panicked about his state and what you saw on his medical charm, he was a scrawny malnourished boy "you can tell me, you’re not gonna be in trouble I promise"
Next thing he knows points have been deducted from the lions and he’s all healed up. Although that still didn’t make him trust you that easily.
But it kept happening, you stopped whoever was bothering him, looked out for him when he seemed a little off and much more, you didn’t rest until you got the marauders suspended from hogwarts for a whole semester because of that idiot and deadly prank.
You scolded him still but always with a gentle hand checking if he’s hurt or hiding an injury like he sometimes did.
"One of these days you will kill me with a heart attack!"
"They started it!"
Heck you even helped him get some rare plants for his potion making and recommended him to higher education, even after he messed up and used that awful name, you believed him, you saw the good in him and stood by his side.
He can thank you a million times but he still feels like it isn’t enough, even now at 35 of age, you’re 50 and still working in the same school.
He comes to you for guidance, he has tea with you every other day and you sit there smiling fondly as he complains and rants about his day, just like the little boy you once knew.
"With all my respect to you mother but these kids are insufferable" it takes him a minute to realize what he just said and he blushes crazily but you chuckle.
"Oh please, you’re the son I never birthed"
Severus sighs still blushing slightly from embarrassment "Isn’t it too late for me to call my professor mum?" He used sarcasm to hide his embarrassment.
You sipped your tea and leaned back on your chair "I remember when you were just a little lad, sneaking around to brew your outrageous potions and getting burned then coming back to me with a pout and tear stained eyes demanding I give you my cooling balm"
He smirked crossing his arms "I can make it myself now, I don’t need to be babied anymore"
"Oh? So you don’t your favorite tea cup?" She laughed softly.
Severus frowned dropping his arms, his tea cup, the one you bought specially for him because the design reminded you of a cauldron, it was childish and looked out of place in your neatly organized cabin with all the good China sets.
But he still went for it, he wouldn’t pick that one round tea cup and take it for himself, you would tease him about needing a grown up one but he would defend himself saying he would do just fine with this one.
"Well, good to know some things just don’t change sevy"
"Don’t call me that I’m a grown adult! I’m taller than you!"
"Whatever helps you sleep at night sevy" fighting you was useless, he should’ve known better but he always felt light, he breathed out and let a small smile creep on his lips.
#imagine#severus x reader#severus snape headcanon#severus snape fanfiction#pro severus snape#severussnape#severus#severus snape x you#severus snape x reader#severus snape#snapedom#snape#snape fandom#professor snape#harry potter requests
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Hi! May I request a Lucifer x teen reader x Alastor where they both see a lost child to take under their guidance and fight for custody?
Hi! id love too!! Thank you so much for requesting! Requests are open!!!
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In the heart of Hell, amidst the chaos and debauchery, a most peculiar dispute unfolded between two powerful demons: Lucifer, the proud ruler of Hell, and Alastor, the charismatic Radio Demon. Their clash, however, was not over territory or power, but over something far more unexpected—a child.
It began with a chance encounter in the depths of Pentagram City. A young demonling, abandoned and alone, stumbled into Lucifer's domain, seeking refuge from the relentless dangers of Hell. The child's innocent eyes and trembling form stirred something unexpected within Lucifer's cold heart—a sense of compassion he had long buried beneath his prideful exterior.
Determined to protect the child from the perils of Hell, Lucifer took the demonling under his wing, providing shelter and guidance within the grandiose halls of Pandemonium. However, his paternal instincts soon drew the attention of none other than Alastor, whose curiosity was piqued by the unusual sight of Lucifer caring for a mere mortal soul.
Alastor, known for his penchant for chaos and mischief, saw an opportunity in the situation. He believed that the child would make an excellent protege, a companion in his endeavors to spread mayhem throughout Hell. Thus, he laid claim to the child, declaring his intention to take them under his wing and mold them in his own image.
What ensued was a clash of wills unlike any Hell had ever seen. Lucifer, stubborn and unyielding in his determination to protect the child, stood firm against Alastor's charismatic charm and cunning manipulation. Their arguments echoed through the halls of Pandemonium, shaking the very foundations of Hell with their intensity.
As the dispute escalated, demons from all corners of Hell took sides, some rallying behind Lucifer's noble cause, while others were swayed by Alastor's persuasive words. The tension between the two demons reached a boiling point, threatening to erupt into open conflict that could tear Hell apart.
Amidst the chaos, the child remained at the center of the storm, their fate hanging precariously in the balance. Both Lucifer and Alastor recognized the weight of their actions and the impact it would have on the innocent soul caught in the crossfire.
In a rare moment of clarity, Lucifer and Alastor set aside their differences, realizing that their quarrel had overshadowed the well-being of the child they both cared for in their own way. With a heavy heart, they reached a compromise—a shared custody agreement that would allow both demons to play a role in the child's upbringing.
And so, amidst the flames and chaos of Hell, an unlikely alliance was forged between Lucifer and Alastor, bound by their mutual desire to protect the innocent and ensure a brighter future for the child they had both grown to love. Though their rivalry persisted, tempered by newfound respect and understanding, they stood united in their commitment to guide and nurture the young soul entrusted to their care.
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I hope this was ok!! I honestly couldn't think of where to take this. i know you said teen, but I couldn't think of how to properly incorporate that especially with Alastor.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar#alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor hazbin hotel
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INNOCENT LOVE : a viking is in love with me! (Part 2)
SYPNOSIS:You are explaining to the Viking king why you cannot marry him, while you do so he agrees to join your belief and leave his gods, just for you.
PAIRING:Viking x Christian!reader
TW:mention of difference in spiritual beliefs.
Part 1
"What are you doing?!" You shouted angrily. Your hands instantly landed on his chest, pushing him back as you averted your gaze, noticing some servants present. You felt embarrassed for exposing your life in front of those people and hid your face, looking down.
Thorkell noticed your sudden change in attitude and chuckled playfully at your shyness. He turned toward your gaze and realized what was happening. He smiled mischievously and stood tall.
"Everyone, out! Our queen needs privacy," he demanded with a deep, powerful voice that echoed in the room.
You watched as everyone present left immediately, almost running. "I am not your queen," you murmured, glancing at him sideways.
"Soon you will be," he affirmed, grabbing your wrist with a firm grip that hurt you a little due to the force he exerted.
They took a few steps until they reached the throne. He let go of your wrist and turned on his axis to stare at you. He examined you with his eyes and then nodded toward the throne where he had been moments ago.
"Sit there," he demanded with the same dominant voice that sent shivers down your spine.
You were about to refuse. You didn't want to give hope that you'd accept, but neither could you decline; you didn't want to be disrespectful. Besides, Thorkell's gaze intimidated you. You were sure you'd have nightmares about him that night.
You climbed the steps leading to the throne. It was huge, imposing, and beautiful, just like Thorkell. You sat on it; it felt strange. You had always dreamed of being the queen of a nation, and now you had the opportunity, but you felt bad for disobeying God's commands.
You shook your head and clumsily got off the throne, embarrassed by what you had just done.
"I can't, I can't be the queen of Dantohira, Your Majesty," you apologized insistently, looking down in a gesture of submission and respect so that Thorkell wouldn't take it as an offense.
"Damn it!... Could you explain why you're forbidden to marry me?" He grunted angrily, one of his hands resting on his head, rubbing his temple.
You played with your hair, trying to calm your nerves a bit. "We're different... You believe in pagan gods, and don't take it the wrong way, Your Majesty," you said. "It's just that I am faithful to my God, my Lord, and I know that it won't please Him for me to join someone who doesn't love Him. Besides other differences..."
"Name them," he replied sharply, staring at you intently.
You sighed nervously, still not ready to have a discussion with the King. "I don't like your customs... I wouldn't like to marry a man who has several women, or a bloodthirsty man. I'd be in constant fear."
Thorkell approached you, this time respecting your space.
"You'll be the only one. I'll never look at other women, and if I do, I promise to gouge out both my eyes."
You chuckled a bit, charmed by what he had just said.
"That would be very nice, but... even so, you would still worship other gods," you looked at him sadly, noticing his attempt to maintain the marriage proposal.
"I'm not asking you to give up what you do for me-" You were interrupted by Thorkell's sudden action.
Thorkell turned around, leaning on the royal throne, grunting.
"Teach me about your God," he grumbled.
°१९*०°
"Then are you going to become a Christian now or something? I never imagined you doing something like this for someone, Thorkell." Tyr, Thorkell's younger brother, mocked him and his infatuation with you.
"Shut the damn mouth, Tyr," Thorkell growled, fed up with his brother's mockery.
"Brother, understand me, you've never been interested in a woman, and now you're doing these stupid things for a Christian girl. I'm starting to think she's a witch or something," he joked again, bursting into loud laughter.
"Anyway, that girl is quite pretty, I don't believe she's still a virgin... surely she's already slept with some lad over there," mentioned one of the guards who was close to Tyr. He was about to burst into loud laughter until Thorkell punched him, causing him to fall to the ground.
"Don't you dare talk nonsense about her, you useless," Thorkell growled as he kicked the guard's face forcefully.
"If she comes out of your mouth again, I'll knock out all your teeth, got it?"
Tyr grabbed Thorkell to prevent more blows, smirked mockingly, and looked at Thorkell.
"You see what I mean? You're more aggressive than usual, and it's because of that girl."
"Thorkell, you're in love with her."
#christian!reader#viking x reader#viking#vikings#thorkell#enemy to lovers#forbidden love#original fanfiction#original works#fanfic#headcanon#killer x reader#yandere x reader
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Contains: NSFW, Stalking, Yandere tendencies, Knife play, Blood Kink, Predator and Prey Kink, Major Character d3ath, Angst, mentions of Gor3, P0rn w/plot, daddy kink, breeding kink.
Summary: You haven't heard from your Ex Boyfriend Suguru for a year, he deleted on all social media and even changed his number the day you broke up with him. Even Satoru and Shoko haven't heard from him....until you get a mysterious call on Halloween night.
(Small warning, I have not written a full story in a long long time please bare with me I know this is gonna suck 🥲.)
It all started just a year ago, Celebrating your 5th anniversary with your high school sweet Suguru Geto on Halloween night. You didn't think you'd be spending it at a Halloween party, but nonetheless in your skimpy Angel costume that showed just the right amount of skin didn't cease to catch the attention on lookers. As if your devilishly handsome boyfriend wasn't standing right next to you... No seriously he had a devil costume on. Of course it had to be at Satoru's house though, All the beautiful women, sloppy drunk men, the smell of booze and weed really gave it that "Satoru" party touch, even the whole gang was there, Nanami, Shoko, MeiMei, Haibara.
It was all great until everything went horribly wrong. Don't you remember? All of you had sat down to watch a good ole horror movie after all the party goers left. Satoru pushes the tape in while, whilst teasing you and Shoko about not getting too scared.
"Ya'Know if you get too scared you can hold onto me Shoko, Unlike (Y/N) she's got my better half."
"Oh, Shut Up Satoru, You're the one that screams like a girl."
"Hey!"
"Hah, And what does that make you, Satoru?"
While they bickered and argued amongst themselves you were playing more attention to the "movie" playing. It was a room- A familiar room in fact it looked an awfully lot like the guest bedroom upstairs. Giving it your full attention, two people came through the door feverishly kissing one another... It look a lot like...
"mmmf... Suguru"
Just like you remembered that night. You were yelling and screaming at Suguru in front of all of his friends as he begged, pleaded for you to believe that wasn't him and that he was with you the whole night. But that wasn't true- at some point of the night both for you were off chit chatting with your respective friend group. So technically he wasn't always with you that night, but nonetheless it was one of the worst nights of your life and just as equally worse for Suguru. Once you had storm out on him the room fell silent as Suguru Stood there trembling, his fist gripping at small square box buried in his pocket as your hurtful words were on repeat.
"You're cheating on me?! H...how cou- why.. Why wou- Suguru, I thought you loved me?!" You snapped at him, Your voice having a shriek like tone to it.
"I do love you, damn it! You know that isn't me!" Suguru reached out to you desperately. His face overtaken with panic and concern, disbelief in his eyes.
"Don't-!" You snatched your arm away from his firm grip.
"Baby... Mamas, come on that's not-"
"You're dead to me Suguru Geto, dead to me!"
While all of this was happening... A certain somebody just couldn't help, but smirk to themselves
And just like that your five year long relationship came to a close. Now here you are a year later on the same day reminiscing on what could've been. You never heard a thing from Suguru afterwards, I mean how could you? His number was immediately blocked along with all of his social medias. He never even showed up to your house to get his clothes out your shared closet, Maybe he truly didn't care for your relationship as much as you did, but no worries Satoru and Shoko helped box up his belongings sometime ago.
"Yo!"
Oh and You have a new roommate... Housemate. Satoru was so worried about you living alone after experiencing such a traumatic heartbreak that he sorta just moved himself in. You didn't mind it because it was such a familiar face that you got to see every day. Satoru plopped onto the bed wrapping his arms around your waist to drag you into a spooning position as he kissed the side of your head. Completely knocking you out of your train of thought all of your thoughts of Suguru washed away in an instant.
Did I forgot to mention that Satoru was also your knew boy toy? He was there you throughout the entire grieving process almost as if he couldn't believe Suguru would cheat on you. Maybe this was all happening too fast, Maybe there was a reason for Satoru to jump straight into action, Maybe you don't want to think about how suspicious it was, but it's nice to have someone to hold you this close on nights like these.
"Hey! pay attention to me damn it! Heh, what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" You were so trapped in your head again not noticing Satoru was practically eating away at your neck by how bruised and wet it was, until he spoke up.
"Oh, Toru.. I- I'm sorry I was just thinking about-"
"Him again? Pfft- Babe, Listen there's no need to worry about Suguru anymore. He did something so unspeakable to a beautiful girl like you. Besides if I were him, don't you think you'd be married by now?"
You were rendered speechless, satoru always new how to shut down those thoughts of Suguru. He was right, he did cheat on you after all so why spend Halloween night mopping around about it? Maybe it's time to have a little fun.
As soon as the bedroom began to fill with moans, Satoru smashing his lips against yours, hands slipping underneath the Halloween themed night gown you wore, firmly gripping the fat of your ass while grinding his stuff bulge against your clothed pussy. Suddenly the doorbell rang more than likely it was some trick or treating going on, but they could wait right? No, the second Satoru took his shirt off the doorbell rang again cause satoru to let out a frustrated groan.
"Sounds like somebody needs to go pass out candy." you teased, Giving him a quick kiss beife he left.
"Fine- But you better not go anywhere I'm not done with you~" And with a wink he left , leaving you equally as frustrated.
Rolling over in bed you grabbed your phone off the night stand to check up on Shoko. It's been a few weeks since you've heard from her, maybe she was wrapped up in her college studies? That would make sense if it hadn't been for utahime. You tried calling her too, but the phone just went straight to voicemail too. Maybe they broke up? Changed their numbers? No that doesn't sound like either of them. Meimei would have told you by now if that was the case. Something just isn't right about all of this maybe you should ask Satoru? Speaking of him what's taking so long?
As you were about to get up to check on him, your phone rang- an unknown number was calling, maybe it was shoko? You answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, I don't know if I dialed the right number, but is this Shoko?"
"Huh? Who is this? A friend of hers? I haven't heard from her either, I'm sorry you have the wrong number though."
"Yeah, Shoko and I were really close. I just need someone to talk too."
"Well... How about you tell me you name first, and when I can get in contact w-"
"No, (Y/N) I want to fuckin talk to you!"
There was a brief moment of silence you could almost hear has fast your heart pounded against your chest, how your stomach twists and churns, throat becoming quite dry, blood rushing with adrenaline. Maybe this was Satoru pulling a Halloween prank on you? Instead of getting a treat maybe this is the trick? But that wouldn't make any sense he was passing out candy to the kids at the... At the door.
"You better now hang up this phone, (Y/N) unless you want to see your little boyfriend again."
That was enough fuel to send the fear of God throughout your body, panic ensued, you walked around the house for any sight of Satoru only to find that the front door was left wide open. There was blood on the welcome home mat with a scattered bucket of candy. All you could do was stand there fight or flight beginning replaced with freeze in an instant as a the fear that ran through your body was now washed over with dread.
"W.. Where's Toru? Wh- When he comes back he's definitely going to kick your ass! Who are you! "
"Poor, Poor Satoru. I guess all those muscles didn't help much. Now I'm sick you asking me all these fucking questions-"
With that the phone hung up, the door immediately closed from behind and in front you was a masked person, dressed as a famous movie slasher named Ghostface. Taking a step back you nervously laughed somewhere in you thought this was a prank Satoru was pulling just to scare you like the old days, but another part of you was screaming that this wasn't just a prank. Everything was confirmed once the mystery person dropped their phone, yanking the mask off revealing long disheveled black hair, depressed eyes, dark circles, dry but somehow plump lip, those broad shoulders.. It's almost like your body yearning to reach out to him, but your heart aches at the sight of Suguru.
"Geto..." Your voice hitched when Suguru snapped back at you with venom in his voice.
"Don't you dare call me that-" Suguru pitched the bridge of his nose inhaling then letting go as if he was trying to calm himself down. "(Y/N)...its Su-gu-ru you know this, Doll. Now how about you answer a question for me?" The step he took forward was absolutely hair-raising, causing you to take a few steps back yourself. We're you scared? Hell yes? The Suguru before you who once looked like he wouldn't hurt a fly let alone you. Now he looks so gloomy and his voice was so unnerving every word he spoke had a hint of coldness to it sending you and uneasy feeling straight to your gut.
"Let's start with Satoru, Since you were so quick to let him get in your pants, in our bed, why is that!? Huh? You care about him so much maybe you were the one cheating on me?"
"Now you know that's not true Ge-!" He lunged forward at you swiping the knife he hid across your cheek. Again frozen in place after feeling the sharp pain, raising a hand to feel for a wound only to be hit with a stinging sensation met with a wet warm feeling against your hand. This has to be a nightmare, the red that coats your hand did indeed confirm that this was no night this was real and... This definitely wasn't a prank. Your Horrified gaze met his bone chilling gaze, watching him bring the knife to his mouth licking your blood off of it.
"Taste good, Doll face... Now talk or you'll end up like your stupid little boyfriend and Shoko."
What did he do? Why Shoko? What did he do to Shoko and Satoru? All these questions ran through your head a thousand miles per hour barely being able to think straight.
"G- S.. Suguru I never cheated on you, I loved you, You're the one that cheated on me and you know it!" You shouted to him.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk- I never cheated on you, you bitch! *inhale* *Exhale* I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean that. You're not a bitch- you're just confused. How about we play a little game? It's called Trick or Treat, but we play it my goddamn way." Suguru aggressively grabbed your wrist with an almost bruising grip, pulling you towards the back of the house where he'd turn the patio light on for you to see none other than Satoru himself. Tied up in one the chair, mouth duct taped, the front of his hair now red with his own blood and a pumpkin basket in his lap. You watched in horror as he picked Satoru's head up hearing him wince in pain.
"Here's how it's gonna go, He has two options either he tells the truth about that fuckin night, or he ends up just. Like. Poor. Shoko. And You my sweetheart pick Trick or Treat and I'll let this spoiled blue eyed piece of shit go."
"Oh.. And don't try to call the police I already cut the phone line." He said coldly, while yucking the tape off of satoru's mouth.
"Toru... W-what is he talking about?"
"Baby, look- I don't know, we haven't heard from this guy in a year, Heh This poorly package piece of shit has clear-" Satoru winced in pain again once Suguru's fist connected with his head.
"How about you use that pretty little mouth for something more useful than talking shit? Hm? Like telling the truth. Trust me if I got it out of Shoko what makes you time I won't get it out of you?"
"Please stop this is crazy! Just- just tell me?!"
"You want the truth, (Y/N)?! Well I'll tell you EXACTLY what Shoko told me-"
"Suguru.. Wait don't-"
"Or what?! She'll find how what a real piece of work you are? How you ditched your own party, had Shoko put a black wig on you-"
"Shut up!"
"How she helped doll you up to look like me?!"
"Suguru shut the fu-"
"Threw on some contacts for the added affect, took some cheap whore up stairs, taped it-"
"You knew I wanted her first!"
"And the cat is out of the fuckin bag! So what is it gonna be, baby? Trick.. Or fucking treat?"
All you could do was stand there in disbelief watching Suguru become more crazed by the minute, and Satoru become more frantic as he looked at you with pleading eyes.
"You... You didn't Toru.. You didn't-"
"Tell her, ToRu"
"Damn it, Yes! I did- I did! But Suguru knew goddamn well I wanted you first, I always wanted you, but you still fell for him."
"What are you 12?! Oh that's rich, yeah I knew you did, but you knew I liked her too. I gave you the option of sharing her, but you're such a greedy stubborn little shit that you just can't stand the thought of sharing your toys? How's that for a fuckin analogy?! I'm waiting (Y/N) Trick or Treat!?"
"(Y/N), Baby, don't pick please!"
"TRICK OR TREAT!?"
"Please, (Y/N) he's fuckin Crazy!"
The whole situation was so overwhelming like you had no time to think, of course you wanted to be mad at Satoru, he literally ruined your entire relationship, but that wasn't something you'd want him dead about. Treat? Maybe if you picked treat he won't hurt him, you thought to yourself.
"I'm running out of Patiences, Doll!"
"(Y/N), DON'T PICK TRE-!"
"TREAT! TREAT SUGURU!"
There was an ominous silence between the tree of you, then a smirk appeared across Suguru face and it sent a chill down you spine. "Good Girl" Suguru said with a menacing tone. Satoru started to panic, shaking his head repeatedly saying no as Suguru tossed the basket from his lap, grabbing Satoru by his hair again, then jabbed the knife he held directly into his abdomen, continuously stabbing into him until he was completely gutted.
You screamed in terror begging Suguru to stop in hopes of getting him to listen to reason, but Suguru was far beyond reasoning. He was completely gone, where oh where could the old Suguru had gone? Oh that's right- Today, on this very night a year ago where you stormed out on him, shattered his soul, and took his beating heart with you. No you had to reason to cry- all those nights he cried, all the times he stalked you at work, all the times he snuck into your house to watch you sleep only to see you in bed with his best friend? You shattered this man, no you killed the old Suguru.
"Sugu, Sugu, Please Stop, please stop, oh god.. Toru-" you weeped while holding onto Suguru from behind. Stopping mid-swing at the sound of the nickname you gave him. With a smirk on his face again Suguru turned his attention to you and your delicate arms gripping his torso.
"Hmph, would'ya look at that? I guess it's time for my "Trick"-"
The creaking of the kitchen table accompanied by your pretty cries filled Suguru's ears with complete and utter joy as he pounded his cock, into your cock drunken pussy. He loved watching you squirm underneath him, oh how he missed the sound of you moaning for him, vice gripping the fat of your hips , watching your hands wonder desperately for something to hold onto. Hell if you could even think at the moment you would have thought Suguru was hate fucking you.
"Fuckfuckfuck, I knew it, ugh... I knew she missed me, Daddy missed you too." He reached between your legs pressing his fingers against your already swollen clit to vigorously rub circles on it while bullying your pussy. He loved hearing the squelching sounds your soaking wet pussy made it's most like "she" was talking to him and of course he'd definitely respond back.
"A-Ah S- Sugu! Too Much!" your words forced out of your throat by another bliss filled moan joining the unexpected, but intense orgasm causing your body to jolt, your walls squeezed around his cock, as your juices shot out of you drenching his abdomen. "You dirty girl, Squirting all over me, do it again, do it again, again again for me~" Suguru continued on not giving you the slightest of breaks he wanted to fuck you until your mind was mush, until your pussy "remembered" the shape of of cock down to the veins, maybe he could fuck you until you completely forgot about this night?
But you were moaning so much it began to annoy him, he could barely hear the sounds you were making below. "shhh, shh, how about being a- Mmmf, little more quieter- Ugh-Ah-fuck trying to hear what my babygirl has to fuckin say~" his harsh words went straight to your cockdrunk head, then straight down to your core, and before you could think of utter a response he quickly put a rough hand over your mouth to muffle you. "Listen.. Listen to my baby girl, Ooo fuck yeah, talk to daddy."
He gazed down at the way his cock slide in and out of you, his face scrunched up biting the inside of his bottom lip. Both of you listening to the sopping wet sounds "I love you too baby, yeah, you gonna milk daddy? Milk daddy for all he's worth?" God this all felt so wrong, but it also felt so fucking good, felt so right. You were in just as much ecstasy as him if not, more especially with the way his pace quickened the smacking of skin to skin became louder, a but rougher actually, you could hear the way Suguru grunted and growled, throwing his head back, his grip now bruising your plump thighs. "FuckmeFuckmeFuckme, pretty girl, so tight baby, you keep pulling me back in- Oh Fuck.."
Your were so close to cumming again until he abruptly stopped leaving his cock deep in your cervix. Suddenly he leaned forward laying his entire weight on you, bringing his arms around you in what seemed like a hug while his head rested in your soft breasts, almost feeling your beating heart against his own.
"Su.. *Pant* P.. Please I need-"
"You really thought you could break up with me? Me?! And think that this sweet...candied pussy wouldn't miss daddy?" Suguru was completely out of his right mind, drunk on your pussy. I mean who wouldn't be? He spent a whole year with you, without being deep in your guts, without your touch, your voice, your sweet beautiful moans. Suddenly you felt his arm tighten around you in a bear hug "Listen.. Listen to how much she misses. her. fuckin. Daddy-" each word was met with a harsh, nerve racking thrust of his hips.
Suguru wasn't going to stop anytime soon, no matter how much you came, dug crescents into his back, drew blood, screamed, cried tears of pleasure. No he wasn't stopping anytime soon not until he was completely milked, until his seed was so deep that you had to have his baby, but until he pumps you full of his seed this deranged man wasn't stopping.
He came yet again inside of you- what was this the 4th time? Suguru and you were desperately panting for air until he felt him move his hips again. You could just feel his heavy breath again your ear this time. Over the sloppy sound of skin to skin contact the last thing you heard Suguru say before uttering a word yourself was "I wanna Fuckin Tear You Apart"
Tag list: @gojos-thot-patrol @biscuitsngravie @midnightshade @blkkizzat @candycandy00 @satkuna @callm3senpaii
I had too much fun with the dialogue. Happy Halloween🎃👻🍬
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#geto x reader#kinktober#suguru geto#geto suguru x you#getou suguru x reader#geto angst
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OH MY GOODNESS, LEON WOULD LITERALLY BE SWEATING.
Knowing Leon; he’d probably show up in a fancy suit. Him and his now wife had been dating for a couple of months, having to push back when he’d finally be able to meet her parents because of work. He wanted to look presentable and nice, especially after finding out her father was a high ranking military official.
He’d probably show up with flowers in hand for your mother, giving her a hug as she kissed both of his cheeks and treated him like a baby. All while her father stood back and watch with his arms folded, poor guy was probably shivering as his girlfriend’s mother introduced her husband, giving Leon a nice firm nod and extending his hand out.
They had planned a nice little dinner together; His girlfriend and her mother would finish cooking in the kitchen as her father quite literally conducted an entire interview with Leon in the living room.
“What do you do for work?”
“What are you trying to do with my daughter?”
“How long were you in training for?”
Being the nice respectful guy he was, he’d reply with “No sir” or “Yes sir” to his questions. Go into further depth with the harder ones, really trying to get on the old man’s good side. They had a little talk about the army and stuff, listening to his old stories before your mother and you finally finished the food.
Dinner went well, so far your parents absolutely adored him. Especially your mother; she’d probably be telling your father “Can you believe it Dave? Our little girl with an amazing man like him! I know he’ll protect her, especially with that fancy government job he has!” Leon would just blush and thank her, smiling and happily eating his steak.
Let’s just say, as soon as he felt, your mother was already gossiping with you. Talking about how “Handsome” and “Strong” he was. You just blushed at giggled, agreeing with her every word.
- Anon! 🎀
Love this 🎀anon, but I have a feeling as soon as her father heard his name he knew who Leon was. Everybody knows everybody in certain lines of work!
The second he hears your father is a general in the military he has a lot of questions. He's questioning you and you're answering to the best of your abilities. But his rank pops up. Four star general... Your father is a four star general. One of the highest ranks you could possibly get...
Then his brain starts turning, your last name moving through his head until it finally sticks. He's scrubbed floors at the rumor of that man showing up. Knows stories of how ruthless he is and the things that man's done. Climbing ranks quickly in the Army with the amount of raw potential he had.
"General Tarkin..." You freeze for a minute looking at him.
"The Star Wars character?"
"No, the other cadets... They'd call him General Tarkin. I know your father... Well, know of your father. Never met him personally but I've heard he's... Terrifying." Your father? Terrifying? You laugh at the thought, smiling at your boyfriend who seems to look a lot more tense than he already was.
"Daddy's not terrifying. He's like a giant teddy bear if anything." Leon knows you mean well but the thought of meeting this man has his stomach in knots. Not only would he have to impress her parents but the man who he knew could do a lot of things to make his life more miserable if he pissed him off.
Leon was definitely gonna have some kind of stomach ulcer with the amount of stress by the end of the night.
Your mother adored him, wouldn't stop calling him handsome and welcoming him into the family without even thinking about it. But Leon could hardly focus feeling the generals burning glare on him from behind your doting mother.
As soon as Leon introduced himself, your father tightens his grip on Leon's hand.
"I know who you are boy."
Boy... That's the name Leon gets stuck with for a chunk of the night and sometime after.
Your father tells you to go help your mother with dinner and you happily follow. Leaving the two of them alone in the den. Sitting across from each other in silence for a few minutes.
"You know me?" Leon's the first to speak, your father still staring him down with his arms crossed.
"Hard not to. President Graham speaks highly of you for helping him with his daughter. We're friends, told him personally who my daughter was seeing and he couldn't stop talking about you." His face tightens as he leans forward, towards Leon.
"I've read the reports from '04. Know what you saw. But I don't take too kindly knowing my daughter's dating a man who skipped around in Spain with another woman. Even if it was to protect her."
Leon's at a loss for words. What even could he say!?
"What're your intentions with my daughter?" Oh thank God something he can answer.
"To be with her, Sir." The generals face softes slightly with a nod.
"You love her?"
"More than anything, Sir."
"You wanna marry her? Have a family?"
"When the time comes, Sir."
The grilling continued until you came in to save him with the news of dinner being done. Your father didn't say much after that. Your mother talking all through dinner and dessert.
Upon leaving you and Leon say your goodbyes and take off. Your mother looks at your father as he shuts the door and smiles.
"Well?" She questions, looking at him.
"He'll do fine." He says, smiling ear to ear.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x fem reader#leon s kennedy#🌿 ivy replies#🌿 ivy writes#resident evil x reader#🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy
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One of my favorite Deeply Pathetic Javert Things is how often he puts on a big show of loyal bootlicking self-martyrdom only for no one to even notice. I love it when a long-winded description of Javert haughtily martyring himself for the unjust government he worships is followed up with a short comedic note about how literally no one even sees him or cares. Things like:
Javert, who, bound to his post, had not so much as moved his head during the whole of the attack on the barricade, and who had gazed on the revolt seething around him with the resignation of a martyr and the majesty of a judge.
Marius had not even seen him.
And
Javert bestowed a respectful salute on the mayor, whose back was turned to him.
The mayor did not look at him, but went on annotating this docket.
And
On entering he bowed to M. Madeleine with a look in which there was neither rancor, anger, nor distrust; he halted a few paces in the rear of the mayor’s armchair, and there he stood, perfectly erect, in an attitude almost of discipline, with the cold, ingenuous roughness of a man who has never been gentle and who has always been patient; he waited without uttering a word, without making a movement, in genuine humility and tranquil resignation, calm, serious, hat in hand, with eyes cast down, and an expression which was half-way between that of a soldier in the presence of his officer and a criminal in the presence of his judge, until it should please the mayor to turn round. All the sentiments as well as all the memories which one might have attributed to him had disappeared. That face, as impenetrable and simple as granite, no longer bore any trace of anything but a melancholy depression. His whole person breathed lowliness and firmness and an indescribable courageous despondency.
At last the mayor laid down his pen and turned half round.
“Well! What is it? What is the matter, Javert?”
And then my favorite one:
“This man was at the barricade,” said he in a low voice and as though speaking to himself. “He is the one they called Marius.”
A spy of the first quality, who had observed everything, listened to everything, and taken in everything, even when he thought that he was to die; who had played the spy even in his agony, and who, with his elbows leaning on the first step of the sepulchre, had taken notes.
Javert spends the hours before his death pointlessly “taking notes” he expected no one to ever receive, solely because it’s what the government ordered him to do and he has no purpose outside of licking boots and following orders.
And there is something really compelling about that, in contrast to characters like Thenardier and even Jean Valjean?
Thenardier and Jean Valjean act overly conciliatory and submissive to their “social superiors” while in public, and then secretly express resentment for them in private. Jean Valjean will speak politely to a cop like Javert in public but calls him “that Javert who has been annoying me so long, that frightful hunting dog” in private. Thenardier will praise the wealthy bourgeois “Leblanc” when he has no other choice but threaten and torment him the moment he has the power to do that instead.
But Javert is an authoritarian who is completely earnest in his bootlicking. He doesn’t just worship his superiors to their faces; he continues worshipping them when he’s alone. He salutes them respectfully even when their backs are turned.
Javert bestowed a respectful salute on the mayor, whose back was turned to him.
In the one moment where Javert believes he’s acted out of resentment—daring to outwardly express and act on his personal negative feelings for a superior, by accusing Mayor Madeleine of being Jean Valjean — he confesses his crime immediately and tries to force “Mayor Madeleine” to fire him for what he sees as a horrific unforgivable offense.
When there’s no one else around to police Javert’s behavior, he polices himself. He forces himself into this state of constant, unending, horrible, pathetic, bootlicking deference to a government that does not value his life and never will.
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@messrs-weasley i don’t know if you’ve seen this but this is the prompt that you asked for, hope you enjoy :)
-
Eddie never said much when things bothered him, usually he’d brushed it off and move on with his day especially if it was anything that didn’t involve him. With that being said, he’s learned the dynamics of the group and how everyone interacted with one another. Nothing out of the ordinary when it came to a friend group but he noticed something that kind of got under his skin. Steve and Dustin’s dynamic is what really stood out to him and it wasn’t because he was close with Dustin but it was the way he spoke to Steve that caught him off guard. Eddie knew that they’ve known each other long enough to say these jokes that were kind of low which he understood, that was the normal part of their friendship. Overtime Eddie started to pick up on how naturally if Steve said something that was too far he wouldn’t hesitate to apologize despite Dustin saying way worse in the process. Eddie would sit there wondering how would all of this play out and did everyone just let this happen, turning a blind eye. That wasn’t all though when Eddie started hearing the constant jokes about Steve’s intelligence that’s what really bothered him.
Eddie couldn’t believe the things that Steve would let Dustin say and even the whole group in general. He did take into consideration that majority of them were younger but for the ones who weren’t what was their excuse. Everything time it happened Steve wouldn’t say anything sometimes he would even add on to it, none of it was right in Eddie’s eyes. So he made it his business to be the one to give Steve props for honestly anything that he did and the response he got was truly upsetting, Steve wouldn’t feel comfortable with any positive feedback without thinking that Eddie was going to play it off as a sarcastic joke. He’d leave Eddie standing there after letting out a nervous laugh. Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about it and he didn’t know why it made him so upset. Obviously Steve could defend himself and he knew how to handle things on his own but Eddie wouldn’t allow himself to brush it off like everyone else. He continued to do it until it became natural for him and Steve. His heart would skip a beat whenever Steve would look at him after doing something, before Eddie could say anything Dustin would chime in immediately taking the situation into a joking matter.
This time he pushed it very far. Emphasizing that Steve kept making the same mistakes over and over again when a fetus wouldn’t have this much trouble with a simple task. The group laughed softly, creating that exact environment that Eddie tried desperately to stop because it wasn’t healthy for anyone involved. Eddie looked at Steve who wasn’t engaging in any of the jokes and rolled his eyes. The longer the jokes continued Eddie felt his blood boil and he was trying to bite his tongue but eventually he just snapped.
“Henderson,” Eddie said a little louder than he expected catching everyone off guard. Steve watched the scene unfold with wide eyes because he’s never seen Eddie look this upset. “Enough.”
His words were sharp while his voice was low and firm. Everyone in the room didn’t expect Eddie to say that. Dustin had this look of guilt on his face once he realized that he was pushing it a little bit and he really respected Eddie, he wouldn’t call him out for anything if he it wasn’t for his own good. Without much being said both of them got on the same page.
“Sorry.” Dustin said softly as he looked directly at Steve. To say Steve was baffled would be an understatement. His eyes would cut to everyone in the room not knowing what to say because this was a very rare moment for him.
“Uh… I forgive you.” Steve said before smiling at Dustin and he smiled back. Eddie smiled to himself while seeing them share this moment, he hoped that in the future everyone will start understanding that there are limits to things even if it’s coming from a good place.
They created this inside joke that Steve was under Eddie’s protection and if anyone said anything about him they’d feel his wrath. Eddie felt like they were over exaggerating, the only time he’d step in was when he really felt the need to other than that everyone could function normally like always. After that day Eddie noticed Steve kept staring at him as if he had something on his mind and he wanted to say it. One day while the group was hanging out the arcade letting the kids have fun with all the games that they wanted to play. Eddie sat at one of the tables helping himself to a slice of pizza that was calling his name, while everyone played the games he spent most of the time sitting down watching them enjoy themselves and that was enough for him. As he took small bites out of his pizza he didn’t realize that Steve was making a bee line towards him and sat down right next to him, basically shoulder to shoulder. Eddie jumped slightly not expecting Steve to be so close when was enough space for him to slide over.
“Can I help you?” Eddie asked with his mouth full of pizza. Steve made a face before he started laughing.
“Gross,” Steve said while nudging Eddie away as he playfully opened his mouth revealing a little too much. Both of them started laughing uncontrollably making people give them dirty looks but they didn’t really care. When their laughs faded Steve kept a smile on his face as he watched Eddie eat. He bit his lip thinking about how he was going to start this conversation, Steve shifted in his seat once he finally got the courage to speak up. “Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.” Eddie joked earning another nudge from Steve. He let out a sarcastic laugh nonetheless he couldn’t deny the joke was funny.
“Alright smart ass, can I ask my question now?” Steve asked. Eddie didn’t have single a clue about what Steve was going to ask him. A part of him wasn’t looking into it so deep but the other part was freaking out.
“Shoot.” Eddie said before taking one last bite out of his pizza then putting it down on a paper plate. He turned to Steve giving him all of his attention now.
“That day when everyone was joking around with me and things got a little out of hand. You stepped in to say something even though I’ve never asked you to, why?” Steve furrowed his eyebrows. He was genuinely curious about how Eddie was going to answer him.
Eddie had a feeling that this question would asked he just hoped that it wasn’t Steve would ask him. The short answer is that he didn’t like Steve getting low blows when it wasn’t necessary. In all honesty Eddie couldn’t say why he felt the need to put himself out there when it came to Steve. Anyone with a brain could put two and two together that he liked Steve way more than a friend. Of course Eddie wasn’t going to say that, he isn’t that crazy.
“I guess it’s because I didn’t like watching you get put down. I don’t know, maybe a few years ago I wouldn’t have given a shit about anyone saying what they want to you. Now-“
“You do?” Steve sounded surprised by the idea of Eddie caring about him. Eddie opened his mouth to say something then he looked away from Steve. He thought that he probably said to much and Steve would catch on that he likes him a little more than he should. Steve took Eddie’s silence as an answer, he couldn’t help but smile. “You actually do.”
“Is it such a crime that I don’t enjoy watching you get treated badly? Obviously I care about you-“ Eddie rambled until it was too late. Steve raised his brow not expecting Eddie to say that.
“Oh.” Steve said quietly. He thought Eddie would tease him or flip him off as a response, Eddie actually admitting that he cared about him made him see things in a different perspective. This wasn’t a twisted joke or a moment in time where the harsh punchline was going to be made.
Eddie cared about Steve.
Silence fell over them and they just watched the kids play arcade games along with the older teens. Eddie wanted to disappear because his face wouldn’t stop heating up every second and with Steve being this close it made things a whole lot harder. He’s always been an impulsive person, always saying everything that came to his mind even when he knew the results would be bad. With all these thoughts running through his head he completely missed the feeling of something grabbing his hand. Eddie looked at his hand before meeting Steve’s gaze, his heart felt like it was going to explode.
“I never got to say it at the time but thank you.” Steve whispered as he squeezed Eddie’s hand softly. Even with all the butterflies flying around in his stomach Eddie managed to smile at Steve like he was the most amazing thing he’s ever seen.
“You’re welcome.” Eddie whispered back. They noticed the group coming back towards them and Steve moved his hand slightly. Both of them smiled to themselves, their cheeks turning a light shade of pink in unison.
-
I want to add that if you don’t like this trope or headcanon please ignore this post :)
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steddie fanfiction#steddie fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#ficlet#short prompt#steddie prompt#short fanfic#short story#story#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#idk what else to tag#help lol#please#come on#manifesting#power#so cuuuute#lmaooooooo#that is so funny#wow#hmmmmm#omfg#i know what you are#be for real
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Are You Experienced?
Rating: Mature
Words: 26K
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Warnings & Tags:
AO3 Link
Team 117 for @steddiebang 2023
Author: @madaboutmunson
Artist: @danadaria
Beta: @house-of-chant
Cheerleader : @atmilliways (unofficial but I am super grateful for your help so didn't want to miss you out!)
Summary:
Everyone knows Steve Harrington, a local rich kid jock, the previous king of Hawkins High School. He's got it all, money, a respectable family, and chicks love him. He's even spending the summer learning what it's like to be a real working man before taking on a role in his Dad's firm because its builds character and empathy. Or is he something else entirely?
Is Steve a down-on-his-luck guy, stuck in a job he dislikes because his dad is teaching him a lesson, repeatedly striking out with the ladies, that his co-worker is fond of reminding him about?
Under all the many layers and masks, he uses to survive the day-to-day, Steve has secrets. The main one is how passionately he loves music. How it moves him in ways nothing else does, and he's sure no one else could possibly feel the same, until his Mom gives him $50 to spend at the new record store.
Notes:
I sincerely hope you enjoy this story and the artwork for this fic. I really loved writing it, and I really loved the Steddie community I became part of because of this event. It has changed me forever. You're all so awesome.
Huge thanks to my artist who not only claimed my fic but also really understood our Steve's perspective in this. I can't believe how lucky I am to have @danadaria as part of my team!
Also huge thanks to @house-of-chant for beta-ing my fic you rule! Thank you so much
And also big shout out to @atmilliways who when I was getting nervous about my fic (it had been so long since I edited it (I completed my before claims lol)) gave it another read for me and restored my confidence in it! Thank you
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It's the beat that got him first, or so his mom is fond of reminding him as she teased him a little over the foam on her cappuccino. A fond nostalgic expression washes over her usual business-like aura that mostly filled these private but public meet-ups.
Away from his Dad, essentially. Away from his judgemental outlook, away from his snide comments and homophobic jabs. Here, his mother was more his mom; they'd been doing this since Steve had been forced to find a job, and honestly, it's been the best thing to come out of this shitty situation so far.
When he was a kid, they used to spend her days off together without him until he fucked that up for Steve too. The cheating. His wandering eyes, hands and dick meant his mom would leave and take him for everything he had, including Steve, but somehow he slimed his way back, citing addictions. He could change if his wife stood by him through his "sickness". The irony of reminding his mom of her wedding vows to make her stay after she'd found out about only the first of a long list of women he'd been banging was not lost on Steve. So now she had to follow his Dad everywhere, like his goddamn nanny. It was beneath her, she didn't have to do this, but she did. She'd be damned if she looked like she didn't try.
Steve often wonders if that is because even though he hurt her irreparably, repeatedly, that some small tiny part of her still loved that pathetic excuse for a husband. They both would be happier if they'd just left him, though they never say it out loud, only in silent shared glances over dinner or when he pisses one of them off, and they just have to take it. Because now he's built himself a better legal team, and she knows they're stuck. But Saturday was golf day, and that was no place for a wife, apparently. Steve loathed him.
His Mom always offers to buy him lunch. Steve always declines. Says he's already eaten. He hasn't. He just wants to prove he can do this. He can work. He can survive. Then maybe his Dad would lighten up, stop busting his balls about college, give him a shitty job at his place, and then Steve would be set for life. Come to heel, fitting the mold, nine to five grind and staying on the right side of his trust fund and future inheritance.
Despite his eagerness for an easy life, Steve is the kind of guy that loves a challenge. He loves to prove people wrong about him, but carefully, quietly, because if he fails as he has numerous times, at least the only person who knows he was trying so hard is himself. But he'd be lying out of his ass, if he didn't admit at least to himself that it would be much nicer to live the privileged, pampered life rather than getting his confidence shattered multiple times a day, dressed as a fucking sailor pin-up.
"You were so funny, Stevie. Crawling the wrong way. Not being able to work out how to turn yourself around. Constantly bumping into things. Until, of course, you found your muse," She chuckles, and it warms Steve's heart because this is also something that only happens at these meetings. She genuinely laughs, and her smile reaches her eyes, making them twinkle like a starry, starry night. Not like the laugh at home, not the carefully curated laugh, the one that's calculated to not be too loud or too long, lest it irritates his Dad somehow. Steve had one, too for him. "Such a little dancer," his mom adds, nostalgia swimming in her eyes of happier times.
That was true. His Mom, Dad and Nanny all said the same about him. His Mom and Nanny with joy, his Dad with disgust. It was also true that Steve had lost his footing literally and figuratively many times over his life so far, and some of those times, the only person able to pick him up and dust him off was himself. But he had a secret weapon. He had music.
Lots of people like music. Some love it.Steve believed there was part of him that was almost a direct connection to it. Like he had music in him. Like the right song at the right time could plug into him and change him forever. Like part of him was controlled by it. He wasn't just moved by it physically, but emotionally too. He could put on his headphones alone at night, press play, and be transported elsewhere. Places, feelings, past, present, future and in the skin of someone else. Until he is swept up in it like an inescapable hurricane. Until Steve Harrington didn't exist for those few minutes.
"Glad to know I amused you at one point," he jokes and gives her a charming smile. It's almost natural, but she takes it. Looks around quickly before stretching across the table and squeezing his hand, and he feels the familiar paper push inside as she takes her hand away back to her coffee cup.
"Have you been to the record store here yet?" She takes a sip of her drink and glances up at it, "Looks a lot more modern than the one in town."
Steve pulls his hands into his lap and unfurls his fingers to reveal a fifty-dollar bill. He rolls his eyes, "Come on, Mom. I don't need this," he whispers, "I'm fine. I'm still at home. I'm making my own money. It feels kinda good, you know?"
Her happy expression falls, "You look tired, my little star." Her eyes meet his over the rim of her coffee cup. He knows how tired he looks, he sees it in the mirror every morning, and it's not from work. He is struggling post-high school. Things aren't as easy anymore. "Why don't you try the new place out? It's not far from work, right?" He glances over at Sam Goody's from where they are seated and is tempted, but there are reasons he's been avoiding it. "You know you are never happier than when you get to add to your collection. Tell him you got a big tip or something if he bothers to ask you. Once I'm home, I'll put my rollers in before he gets back, and he'll think I had my hair done. So don't worry." Steve half smiles and guiltily casts his eyes to the table between them. This will be their last lunch for a while.
"Thanks. If everything goes ok, I'll check it out after my shift." And he will. Steve tries to stick to his word as best he can, at least endeavours to be better than his Dad at it anyway, which, honestly, takes little effort. He pushes the money into his jacket pocket as she gets up, and they part ways with a small fond wave. A hug would be too much out in the open, as if being dressed as a sailor wasn't eye-catching enough.
Steve returns to Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor and tags in so the girl he always seems to be on shift with can take her break. Her name's Robin. She's a little younger than him: Nancy's age. She's bossy, annoying, a complete nerd; she talks too much, she's in band, she takes drama; and she thinks she's some kind of revolutionary because she found a feminist zine one time. He gets the same feeling around her as when he's with the little group of dickheads that he always ends up babysitting. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, El. He'd never let on, but it's kinda nice. They can rib one another all day, laugh, and mutually complain about work. It's like a weird comradery.
But what Steve really likes about her isn't the things she gives away with her words. It's what he spots in her Walkman or what she hums when she's working in the back. Sure, Robin will tell you her favourites, Madonna, Bowie, Culture Club, and Cindy Lauper, but that, as with most people, is just the tip of the iceberg. She also likes Patti Smith, The Runaways and Marvin Gaye. Steve managed to sneak a peek at the names through the window of her Walkman. Sometimes, annoyingly, it will be an unlabelled mixtape, preventing Steve from unravelling the mystery of Robin further.
Steve's Robin assessment:
Non-traditional values
Likes people who go against the grain
Hopeless Romantic
"You're back early. You've got another fifteen minutes?" She frowns at him and wrinkles her nose, making her freckles misshapen.
"Oh yeah," Steve plays dumb, follows up with a shrug, and heads into the back to hang up his jacket, wash his hands and pick up his scooper. When he re-emerges, she's still leaning on the counter, frowning at him like he was the weirdest thing she'd ever seen. He gives her a charming smile back, "You can go early if you want?" Her frown turns into disgust as she pushes past him into the back.
"What is with you?!" She mutters as she passes.
"Ah, what is with me, Robin, is that I love the thrill of consumerism! Gonna beat my personal best today. You'll see!" He calls after her with a smile.
"I know you only need one phone number to do that, Steve, but I still think that's one too many out of your reach." She says in a sing-song tone with a laugh, and Steve rolls his eyes in annoyance.
"I'm talking about ice cream sales, birdbrain." He sasses back.
"Ohh, sticking to what we're good at, finally. I'm proud of you, Steve." She says, teasing him, as she walks back out, headphones on, giving him a salute goodbye.
There is a small influx of customers over the next hour, but nothing Steve can't handle, and by the time Robin returns, there isn't much to do except start shutting down.
"Well?" Robin inquires with a smirk.
"Almost," Steve replies with a smile, "but also…" he pulls a slip of paper from his hat with a number on. Robin grabs at it, and Steve pulls it out of her reach. "Ah-ah! Change the tally. I have a number." Steve points at the little whiteboard.
"Ok, fine!" She says with an adorable huff, picking up the marker pen, but as soon as Steve has relaxed, she snatches the slip of paper and reads over it, clasping her hand over her mouth, with a laugh, "Oh, Steve. Were they wearing a uniform or - or maybe carrying a net?"
"A what? No!" He says, frowning in annoyance, "This cute blonde chick with a perm. Linzie! That's it!" Steve says, clicking his fingers and pointing at the whiteboard impatiently.
Robin walks over to the board and puts a mark under the You Suck column.
"Hey!" Steve protests.
"This is the number for animal control," Robin says smugly, holding the paper between her fingers and handing it back to Steve, who snatches it and races for the phone, punching in the number whilst keeping a locked defiant stare with Robin.
The phone rings a few times. It feels like forever.
"Hawkins Animal Control. No bug too small, no bear too big." Steve rolls his eyes and slams down the handset, tossing the paper in the trash and leans glumly on the counter. He really does feel like he sucks right now.
"Come on, champ. Your frosty mistress still loves you! In scoopfuls," she says, laughing as she pats him on the shoulder and thrusts an ice cream tub at him. As he looks up from his self-pity, quicksand. Her eyes are bright, sparkling with harmless mischief. Even though her teasing could be a little cutting, there was no malice. He can tell by the way she warmly smiles at him. A wordless check-in to see if she'd gone too far.
"For now. Until some grizzly pirate steals her away, no doubt." Steve rolls his eyes as he starts piling up more tubs to take out back to wash.
"Or you." She says with a laugh. Steve shakes his head and contorts his face like she just told him the moon was made of sponge cake and returns out front to collect a few more.
"No chance, not with these reflexes!" He says, spinning his scooper in his hand. She rolls her eyes, but her smile widens as she launches a sauce bottle at him that he effortlessly catches before impact, pumps his eyebrows at her and repeats, "Not with these reflexes." The forced sneer of disgust appears on her face again, making him hide a laugh behind a tower of tubs he's picked up.
He really liked Robin. She was easy to be around.
Closing time comes around, and they nod their goodbyes, at the storefront, after locking up. Like clockwork, her headphones are back on as she walks towards the bike racks. He already knows she's listening to Raspberry Beret.
Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and feels the crinkle of the fifty from his mom against his fingertips, and his eyes move to the record store. They were probably gonna be open for an hour or so longer. He turns to the store's glass front, has a final check over his appearance and ensures his uniform is buried deep in the depths of his backpack before taking a deep breath and walking over there.
It's not like he hated this place or anything. It just felt like a betrayal to the town store that was slowly but surely crumbling into non-existence. The other factor was that all the people who worked here were school kids, apart from the manager. Cheap labour, he guesses, but it means he can never fully relax here. Can never fully let the music ring through his ears so it can guide him to his next pocket-sized plastic box of hidden treasure. Most of them were younger than him, though, so intimidating them was easy enough, though with the weather warming up, they were slowly catching on to how far King Steve had fallen, working just across the way. He tells them it's character-building, an experiment. He only told Robin that it was, in fact, a punishment.
He stands outside for a moment. This place is so bright and garish. Neon lights ran all over it like some fake plastic poison spreading between what he loved most. He can already hear something blaring out of there and voices chattering loudly, contending with it. He puts on his headphones, carefully placing the band so it doesn't crease up his hair, and pushes play on his Walkman. His ears fill with Nina Simone, and he takes a much easier deep breath as he walks inside.
I wish I knew how it would feel to be free.
As the voice smoothly fills his ears like it had just broken through the dam of the day and swirls its way around his brain into what feels like every crease, he finally feels that special feeling. The tingle from under his cheekbone to his temples, and he can finally settle into himself a little more. Swaps tension for ease as his fingers dance over the music sections, flipping cassette cases or the large vinyl album artwork as he moves around the store.
That is until he starts to hear the repetition of something unfortunate, and it pulls him out of his oasis of calm back into his old, reliable, tensed body and mask. His name.
"Harrington!" The voice rings out, and as if to make a show of how annoying this all is, he slowly takes off his headphones and forcibly pushes stop on his walkman.
"Yes?" He says through almost gritted teeth as he turns to the origin of the sound and finds himself met with a set of hopeful brown eyes, a mass of waves and curls, and an awkward smile. Eddie "The Freak" Munson.
Steve's Eddie assessment:
Loud
Grating
Obnoxious
Non-conformist to the mainstream
Conformist to the Heavy Metal scene
"Good to see ya, man. How're things?" Eddie forces his smile wider, but it is strained.
Steve rolls his eyes with a sigh, "Let's get this over with, Munson. How can I help you?" His hands land on his hips, pushing back his jacket a little to emphasise the inconvenience, but Eddie seems unperturbed, curiously; his smile grows toothy and genuine.
"Well, that's quite an offer, but I was actually thinking about the other way around." Steve's eyes follow Eddie's ringed hand that comes into view and taps the name tag on his chest, "How can I help you, Harrington?" He drops his head to the side a little.
Steve forces out an unimpressed laugh of condescension, "I don't need any help. I'm good!" Eddie's customer service persona falters a little to worry.
"Come on, man. All these other twerps here are terrified of me or the younger ones, who aren't, get led away by their folks." As he gestures around the store, sets of eyes that Steve didn't realise were on them dart away. Eddie's eyebrows push together, "You know I wouldn't ask if I wasn’t desperate, dude. We're in the same boat here, you know? Please?"
Weirdly the endearing look on his face wins him over, but Steve will not advertise himself as an easy sell. He pushes back once more for good measure. "We are not in the same boat, not by a long shot!"
Eddie steps in closer, keeping his voice down, and mumbles out, "I know you're working over at Scoops, one of my band told me."
"Yeah, well, that's just an experiment. If I'm gonna manage people and run a company, I need to know what the average worker feels like. So like I said, it's very different," he scoffs with a laugh.
Then something unexpected happens. Eddie shifts his body and his stance. Straightens his wiry frame to his full height, no longer slouching for the promise of Steve's pity, but eye to eye for a second before he's slightly above him, maybe an inch or so. He squints a little, carefully searches each of Steve's eyes, looks him over, and puffs out his chest. All too familiar with this display of sizing up an opponent, Steve mirrors him. Show no sign of weakness.
"You know, Harrington. One of my first little tasks here was to take out the trash. I crushed up boxes and collected empty soda cans that my colleagues and customers enjoy leaving around the place, though the signs explicitly say not to. I even shredded the unsuccessful applications for the position I just filled." Eddie's lips are tighter. It's almost a threat. He's obviously seen Steve's resume in the pile. Probably laughed at it too. An ember of anger glows within Steve, but his outside remains cool. He'll wait and see what Eddie wants to do with his leverage. His stare bores intimidatingly down into Steve's eyes, "So, as far as I'm concerned, and anyone that brings it up to me is concerned, we can stay in very different boats, Steeeeve." He lengthens and forces his name through clenched teeth. "That is, as long as you help me out here."
They hold the shared stare for a few seconds. The surprise revelation must have made it to Steve's face because Eddie looks like he knows he's won. He shifts back into sales assistant mode, like shrugging a jacket back on, and his hands animate his words once more. "So, I can help you out in the store. I could even make sure that all my friends with the munchies know where to get the best ice cream in town if you need some help over there too? Some of them are a lot cuter than you'd expect. Whaddya say, buddy? Consider it a symbiotic relationship." His grin, reptilian.
Steve breathes like he knows he's going to regret this. Eddie Munson invading his precious music. "What do you feel you can help me with today?" His exasperation is palpable. Eddie claps his hands together with glee, and his accessories clink about as he, alternating leg, hops on the spot before his sly grin turns radiant, friendly almost. The rapid change is almost a little jarring but intriguing because with a switch that quick, one of these attitudes was pure showmanship, and to his credit, both were believable performances.
"Well, let's start with the basics. Are you looking for anything in particular today?" Eddie asks pleasantly. "Because whatever you're looking for, Goody got it" he laughs out the rehearsed store slogan. It seems like he is actually trying here, and Steve decides this doesn't need to be a totally painful experience. For himself, at least. He taps his chin thoughtfully.
"Hmmm, I guess I'm just looking for something new." Steve ponders, looking around, and he sees a glimmer in Eddie's eyes as they dart from Steve to a section further back in the store.
"Oh, well, if you want the freshest sounds around, you've come to not only the right store but also the right man. Metal is taking off in a big way right now, splintering off into little tasty genre morsels even someone as…well… straight-laced as yourself might enjoy." He looks him over, his eyes zig-zagging for clues. "Maybe nothing too heavy. A smorgasbord of speeds and sentiment for you to sample. Maybe er…Mötley Crüe? You heard of 'em?" Eddie has linked his arm and is currently parading Steve towards the back of the store. "Now try to overlook the title of the album. It's much less scary than it sounds. I think you're probably a Queen fan, right? Maybe some Bowie, Cheap Trick, or other seventies glam stuff? Well, you'll hear in many Crue melodies and riff structures that they are as much influenced by that as they were by punk rock. So I think you might like it. Besides, they are known for their hair, just like you." Eddie lays his charm on thick, well, what he thinks is charming anyway. Strictly speaking, it is a little hit and miss in Steve's book; although he lets Eddie finish his spiel, which is honestly more impressive than he would like to admit, Steve already had the album Shout At The Devil stashed away at home, and he did like some of it, but it didn't move him. But something about Eddie reeling off some of his favourites like that feels strange. Maybe that's why Eddie got the job here. Perhaps he’s a quick study when it comes to musical taste.
He attempts to assess Eddie for himself. Everything about his outside screams of high-speed punk and metal. But things like Dio, Iron Maiden and Sabbath definitely lean towards fantasy, history and myth. Imaginative, maybe, but that felt too soft. So he labels him creative, at least. The way he could talk at length about topics, and he's good with words. Maybe that's why he likes songs where the lyrics are a real story, tales of dragons and kings. There are the obvious things too. The way he dresses, his haircut, and his rings, but also something else. Being around him feels like when a guitar gets plugged into an amplifier. Eddie is big energy, wild maybe, something animalistic in how he doesn't hold back his expressions. Definitely something predatory in how he loomed over him, but that could have just been for show.
For Steve, there are levels to this. There is music you can’t bear to hear, the music you are indifferent to, the music you enjoy, music that evokes emotion, and then the stuff that sends lightning through your nervous system. It moves you, even if you don't want to be. If he was going to help Eddie out, the least he could get for himself was a tidbit of insider information about the guy at the same time.
So Steve stops them dead in their tracks before they reach the Metal section of the store and lies, "You know, I don't think my girlfriends are gonna enjoy that too much, Eddie. Maybe, yeah, maybe something a little softer. You know what girls like, right?" He sees Eddie jolt to a stop, his head shrinking back into his shoulders with a wince, and he releases his arm.
He turns to Steve, tossing his hair over his shoulder in a vain act of cockiness, that this time Steve sees right through. He waits to see what transpires. "Of course I do! I just thought you were shopping for you. You didn't say otherwise, duh!" Eddie states defensively, struts back into the middle of the store, and stops directly in front of the top 100 chart singles, blinking a few times, pretending to be in thought, but Steve sees the swallow of nerves. "So, uh, what's she into? So I can, you know, make a related recommendation."
Oh! This was an unexpected turn of events, and Steve can't resist tugging at the strand of Eddie's unravelling. "Oh, you know, typical girl stuff." Eddie nods at the hundreds of cassettes in front of him, his mouth a tight line, avoiding Steve's eyes. He had made an assumption about Eddie long ago, and as it turned out, he might actually be wrong. He’s a nerd, yes. Loud, sure, but he’s also a lead guitarist. They get girls, women even, throwing themselves at them, right? But Eddie seems very nervous about figuring out what girls like. He looks stumped. Steve doesn't know if that is due to inexperience with girls or chart music.
"Huh," Eddie coughs out, hand on his hip as he rounds on Steve, "Never thought you were a misogynist, Harrington."
"What?" Steve blinks in surprise.
"You think girls like a certain type of music. That's pretty sexist." The confident smile returns to his face as he feels he's found a way out of the awkward place Steve had happily placed him in. "Your genitalia or identity can't make you favour one beat over another, Harrington. Music is an even playing field. The industry itself, that's a different story." He sighs like he's some wise old sage and tuts at Steve.
This guy is slippery, but Steve could play this game, "Oh, of course. What I meant was music for romancing? Maybe a slow dance over a candle-lit dinner or a moonlight drive down to get acquainted near Lover’s Lake or Skull Rock. You know all about that, don't you, Eddie? You're a man of the world, right?" Steve leans into Eddie's space and grins happily at him. That's when Steve gets another win. Eddie blushes, not just a little either, a lot. Soft coral-pink patches hit just on and under his cheekbones. So much so that before Steve can comment on it, Eddie is kneeling on the floor, pretending to search through tapes, his hair draped down, hiding his face. If he was a betting man, he'd guess the inexperience was with girls. Now there was a new question. Was that a choice or not?
He stands up eventually and looks Steve directly in the eyes, and smirks, "Alright, then." He says quietly, "Wait here" Steve frowns a little in confusion but observes Eddie darting around the store until he returns with three cassettes. "Contemporary," he hands over a copy of Sade's Diamond Life, "smooth," he places a second cassette on top of Al Green's Let's Stay Together, and the last cassette on the pile, The Jimi Hendrix Experience's Are You Experienced? He shifts his weight to his other leg, looks down at the tapes and then back into Steve's eyes, speaking hushed and deliberately as if he were telling him a secret, "and some of the sexiest fucking guitar the sixties had to offer."
And in that one sentence, Steve is jolted, like someone just caught him off guard with a hand buzzer. The first two descriptions were statements, observations, but that last one…there was power to it. Not just his words but the delivery. Eddie meant that. An enthusiasm he immediately recognised matching his own when he thought about music or talked about it after a few beers, and he had to remember not to let his mask slip too far, but Eddie wasn't masking how this particular musical gem had impacted him. Steve quickly breaks eye contact and looks down at the tapes in his hand.
"You listened to all these?" Steve asks because Eddie had inadvertently prodded Steve's curiosity gremlin, which is clawing its way out of him. He needed to learn more now. Unknowingly Eddie had baited the water for Steve, he wanted to circle him until he got another tasty chunk, but he couldn't, not here and now.
Eddie brushes the question off, "I know my way around. Just trust me. And in the unlikely event I'm wrong, you can return them at my expense." Eddie waves his hand in front of them both toward the register. "Shall we?"
Steve nods, turning the tapes over in his hands. Maybe he could keep the conversation going differently. "What happened to your other business venture?" It's reasonably well known Eddie is the go-to guy for recreational substances for high schoolers, and Steve would guess that is relatively lucrative, so why on earth was he working here. Was he turning over a new leaf?
"Well, not that it's any of your business, Harrington, but I'm under advisement to press pause on that whilst some things get ironed out." He taps the registry keys with a smirk that indicates to Steve that perhaps it's the golf club and not the clothing crease-removing iron he's talking about. "If I'm not splashing around, other things can bob up to the surface, you know? Things that shouldn't be in Hawkins waters, at any rate." Eddie looks up at Steve and stretches his hand out toward him so he can give him the tapes.
He has occasionally wondered if the cops knew about Eddie, but as long as he kept things quiet and didn't venture into harder substance sales, they let it slide. An unspoken agreement of sorts.
"Found out about this place, and well, here we are," Eddie takes the money, bags the cassettes, and drops in the receipt and a flier. He smiles hugely at Steve. "I sincerely hope you have a great evening, and remember," he hands over his change and raises a finger in the air, "whatever you're looking for," and leans across the counter into Steve's space, "Goody got it!" He says with a bit of extra pout, and something about this outward confidence mixes with his potential inexperience and makes for a tantalizingly tempting cocktail of Steve's thoughts.
Steve pushes him back lightly, but Eddie laughs as he presses against Steve's hand before retreating. Shit. That probably looked weird. Nodding his thanks and goodbye, he leaves, and as he does, Eddie hops up onto the counter, calling after him loudly by cupping his hands around his mouth, "And if I'm right, which I know I am! Don't forget to tell your friends about the fantastic customer service you've received today!" Steve keeps his head down and walks out, awkwardly smiling at anyone who meets his eye.
Safely on the outside of the store in a dwindling-to-empty mall, Steve stops holding his breath. His insides, especially his brain, feel like they aren't sitting correctly. Like they are just out of place. He unclenches his fists to cool down his palms, which were busily overheating, particularly the one he'd pushed Eddie back with. He tries to shake whatever this is off himself and decides to try out one of the tapes. He looks at the three. He contemplates trying them in the order Eddie supplied them, but he knows in his core what he really wants. He wants to know why that last one made Eddie's eyes sparkle like that, why he chose those words, and why recalling the music on that tape for a few seconds completely changed Eddie's demeanor. He outright used the word sexy, but it wasn't that. Instead, Eddie made Jimi Hendrix, one of the most famous artists to ever have existed, sound like something secret or forbidden.
He rounds to the glass storefront and forces himself to calmly unwrap and change the tape in his Walkman when all he really wants to do is greedily rip open the packaging, tossing the old tape into the never, and be plunged straight into whatever sorcery this album contained. He puts his headphones back on and pushes play. A few seconds of silence as he paces towards the parking lot. He doesn't know why, but he glances back into the shop. The doorway frames a kid, probably around Dustin's age, engaging Eddie in conversation, holding up two tapes like he's trying to decide, and Eddie is talking animatedly, pointing at each in turn. The kid listens attentively. Steve smiles to himself.
Steve's Eddie assessment:
Loud
Grating
Obnoxious
Non-conformist to the mainstream
Conformist to the Heavy Metal scene
Likes talking about music
Might not be the awful person the town says he is.
Then, like he can sense someone observing him, Eddie looks up and smiles at Steve. Pointing to himself excitedly and then at the kid making her way to the registers and sends him a thumbs up. Steve sends a weak one back and continues his walk to the car. The guitar and beat of Purple Haze time his steps.
Steve adds to his Eddie assessment.
Nice smile.
****************************
"Wow! Your eyes look more sunken than my shipwrecked spirit when I walked through this door," Robin exclaims, her lip curled in disgust, but he notes, with a hint of concern, when she turns up to start her shift. Steve leaning back against the counter under the hatch, starts to reply but is interrupted by a waiting yawn beating his words to the punch, "Say no more Nosferatu!" She adds, heading into the back to hang up her jacket, helmet and backpack.
Steve lets his eyes lose focus and dissociates a little from the blue and white surrounding him. It's been quiet all morning. He didn't even know why they opened in the morning, it seemed like a waste of utilities, but it usually meant that there was nothing to do except prep and clean for the first few hours on a weekday. Which was nice because it meant Steve had the place to himself and could drown out the sea shanties and chipper hornpipe melodies with whatever music he was immersing himself into at that moment in time. Today that had been the same thing he'd been listening to all night like it was his required sustenance.
He thinks a little about last night, on the car ride home, and whilst he cooked dinner for one, he sampled the Sadé album, this was dripping in that eighties sophistication of romance, and her voice might have been one of the most beautiful things Steve has ever heard. Then whilst taking care of some chores, he listened to the Al Green album, again an excellent recommendation by Eddie, it moved through the phases of love effortlessly, and the voice again was sensational. Not because the music is better, it wasn't even a genre Steve preferred, but simply because of how Eddie changed when he spoke about it. Steve saves Are you experienced? for the end of the night, when there is nothing more to do than sleep.
Taking advantage of having the place all to himself was different these days. Years ago, he'd maybe throw a party and have people stay over, but recently he hadn't had it in him. Instead, he prepares the area as usual. Turns out all the lights, makes sure everywhere is locked up, rushes to his room, gets a box of randomly assorted candles, sets a few out, and lights them. Last of all, he dons the huge over-ear headphones he's plugged into his parent's hi-fi system as he lays back on the plush rug beside it and pushes play. The beat like his heart gently pounds as Steve Harrington unwittingly falls into Eddie Munson for the first time that evening.
Steve startles at the abruptness of the hatch opening behind him, "Look, I can't not ask. My conscience is wearing me down, even though, just so this is abundantly clear, I do not care to know about your private life, generally speaking," Robin says rapidly, like she's chucking her words at him, before sighing, "Is everything ok with you?" Her voice is more gentle, verging on caring.
"Yeah, everything's fine. Just couldn't sleep, that's all. Probably the change in weather," he answers.
"Oh well, I've cracked the case. That totally seems like the truth," she sarcastically says, shutting the hatch again, finally stepping out front, and standing directly in front of Steve, "I'm not gonna drag it out of you, but equally, I do not wanna work with the shadow of a person all day. So at the very least, if you don't wanna say what's eating you, go get a coffee and come back half-human before I get dragged down into the doldrums with you. It's contagious, you know, just like yawning!" She says and promptly has to cover her mouth to hold back a yawn, which also makes Steve yawn, "Ok, enough! Get out!" She says and points towards the store entrance. Steve obliges, pushing himself off the counter, slowly sloping off to the back to grab his jacket and leaving Robin with their obligatory salute as he heads over to the nearest caffeine purveyor.
As he walks, one side of his jacket weighs heavier than the other. The pocket that usually holds his on-demand solace, but today it contains a key that unlocked the door to impulse. When choosing his music for the day this morning, he reached for a mixtape that he'd made of some of his favorite chart hits, but as he opened the Walkman and saw the tape he'd been listening to all night, The one that he couldn't stop listening to, The one that snapped something free inside him, moments after he thought that maybe he and Eddie might have some common ground, He couldn't bring himself to switch them. He feels the temptation as his fingertips glance over the thin, metal band of the headphones to feel one of those moments all over again. He bites his lip, thinking about recalling one of those less-than-pure thoughts in the full view of all these people. They would have no idea. He looks around quickly like he is about to indulge in class-A contraband while waiting in line.
No one else knew about last night. How his brain had been scrambled irreversibly. How the goosebumps had sprung up in a sprint up his arms, face and thighs. His imagination had not just run away with him but kidnapped him and held him hostage for hours. An entire psychedelic montage of his own creation. Traveling through kaleidoscopes of color, space, time, scenarios until something unexpected showed up, and as hard as Steve tried to bat it away, it continually returned, splicing his mental music video with clips of someone who had no business being in his brain when he felt open and raw that way. But alone in the darkness, safely in the arms of music, Steve let the thoughts develop, curious to know what would happen if he let go, let it happen, where exactly would they take him. But now, in the harsh light of day, that shame is still branded on his very bones. The heat rises to his cheeks, and though impossible, he's sure that if he doesn't do something about it, people around him will be able to tell. Be able to tell he'd been thinking about someone that way, all alone in the dark.
Steve quickly shoves his hand in his other jacket pocket away from temptation, and his fingertips play with something safe, boring and familiar. Money. Cold hard cash. The easiest mask Steve has in his toolkit. The furthest thing from music he could reach for. Icy, unfeeling, devoid of soul.
He reaches the counter, and the barista smiles broadly at him. "Good morning, Steve. What can I get ya today?" He's taken aback, sure he's never formally introduced himself to this girl before, but he's glad of the smile. A little harmless, friendly flirting couldn't hurt. It might even take his mind off other things.
"Whatever you've got to keep my eyes open." He tilts his head softly, glancing down at the counter and back up to the girl. "Something sweet though, I could do with a little sugar too."
Her eyebrows flash, and she shifts her weight to lean a little on the counter towards him. "I think I know just the thing," she says with a subtle lick of her bottom lip, "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere sailor." Steve happily shakes his head in a no, and wishes Robin was here to see his success.
"Gina, huh? Thought your type was a lot more chaste, Steve," a gravelly voice to his left sends a slight shiver down his spine, and he wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole right now, but instead, he turns to return a polite greeting.
"Good morning to you too, Eddie." He smiles and nods as standard, but his eyes, the traitorous things, linger a little too long, scanning the eyes of the man that had been the cause of him having to buy this coffee in the first place. Eddie looks him up and down in concern, but his expression changes to something mischievous, and he grins at the floor.
"My recommendations worked out for you and your girl, did they?" He nods in Gina's direction while finally looking at Steve again.
"Something like that." He replies, leaning heavily on the tattered edges of the truth, but quickly adds in a whisper, "It wasn't Gina, though."
Eddie's eyes widen, and he chokes a laugh out, and to Steve's pleasant surprise, it's almost a little dorky. That’s endearing. Damn it, he's smiling at him more now. Eddie bites his lip, still grinning, before pressing himself up against Steve's side with an elbow to the ribs, whispering in his ear, "Steve Harrington, you absolute hound!" Eddie laughs again, his usual deep chuckle. Gina snaps a glare at him from the coffee machine. Steve dies a little inside. "Double espresso for me, Genie baby," Eddie charmingly beams back at her whilst Steve does everything he can to keep himself together and not explode into a confetti cannon of embarrassment.
"Eddie! Get in line, like everyone else. How many times do I have to tell you?" She snips.
"Gina! My angel of energy! My friend here was just holding my place in line. Isn't that right, Steve?" Eddie turns to him and smiles, relaxed, his eyelids hooding his deep brown irises that Steve elects to quickly look away from.
"Yeah, that's right." He swallows, and keeps his eyes on Gina now.
"See!" Eddie says, raising his ringed hand to Steve's eyeline to gesture at him. Gina looks between the two of them, but her eyes eventually land on Steve, and her smile returns.
"Well, I have no idea why he's friends with the likes of you, Munson." She puts the two double espressos to go down on the counter, slamming the one nearest Eddie down much harder than the other, which she gently slides over to Steve leaning towards him, "but whatever Steve says…goes," she says, her eyes trailing over him slowly.
"Jesus Christ, Gina! You never heard of the thrill of the chase?" Eddie barks out a laugh, putting his money down on the counter.
"Who says I wanna do any running away?" She smirks, not taking her eyes off Steve.
"That's true. I mean, even walking a few steps ahead of your pursuer would break the habit of a lifetime, and we wouldn't want that now, would we?" Eddie teases as she glances down at the money on the counter.
"You're short, Eddie," she finally turns and bites back, making Eddie shrink a little. "Ten cents." The fun wipes from Eddie’s face as he frantically searches his pockets. Tiny coral-pink triangles start to bloom in the hollows of his cheeks.
"I got it, don't worry about it," Steve interjects quickly to try and get back to the safety of Scoops as soon as possible. He takes Gina's hand gently and puts the money in her upturned palm, grasping her attention again. She puts the money in the register and scribbles on her pad, ripping off a piece of paper.
"A gentleman too?" She says with an approving nod and fans herself, making Eddie roll his eyes. Then, she pushes the piece of paper into Steve's hand. "Pick me up at eight. Wear something nice," she says with a wink before waving around the customer behind them.
Steve gives them both a smile and a wave goodbye as he heads back to the ice cream parlor quickly, sipping his coffee as he goes, though honestly, he doesn't need it anymore. He is wide awake after all of that. Even though he's come out of it relatively unscathed. Eddie is none the wiser, and he's got a date.
Back in the safety of Scoops Ahoy, Steve spies Robin slouching over the counter, waiting on a queue of zero people. He does his best Travolta strut over.
"Wow, you sure that's just coffee in there?" Robin laughs. "It's like you've returned a new man."
Steve forcefully leans over the counter at her with gusto with a massive smile on his face. "I not only have a number but a date tonight at eight!!" He looks very smug.
Robin stretches her hand out towards him, and he hands her the slip of paper. Her eyes scan over it.
"Gina?" Robin says in surprise.
"How did you-" Steve starts to ask before he gets cut off again.
"So she did get fired from the department store! Now she has to serve sad sacks like you and Eddie Munson coffee, I see." Robin nods behind Steve. As he turns, Eddie, holding the small cup to his mouth, initially looking startled, is perfectly framed in one of the windows and gives a little wave back.
"I'll pay you back, dude! Promise!" Eddie shouts before breaking into a speed walk to the record store.
"You bought him a coffee?! Why would you do that?" Robin rolls her eyes like Steve has done the stupidest thing in the world.
"He was a couple of cents short. I don't even want it back, honestly." Steve protests as he takes back the paper from Robin, putting it in his jacket pocket.
"You clearly don't understand what you've done," Robin shouts after him as he goes into the back to reclaim the stupid hat and hang up his stuff.
"Then enlighten me! Please, I'm waiting with bated breath here," he sasses back, secretly smiling to himself, only for it to be wiped from his face quickly as the hatch opens abruptly.
"Ok, first of all, you don't understand the paying back thing because you've never been poor, Steve. So it's ten cents to you. It's shame on us, ok? Secondly, you've fed the neighborhood's stray cat by randomly buying Eddie that coffee! He'll keep coming round here now," Robin whines.
"Ok, first of all," he mimics her, "I didn't buy him anything. He put his own money down. I just gave the extra few cents. Why is it so bad if he comes around here, anyway? He doesn't seem so bad to me, Rob." Steve adjusts his hat in the mirror and shoots a finger gun at himself in acknowledgement that he hadn't been wearing the hat when he got Gina's number, so it must be the thing throwing off his game. He also realizes it's the first time he's shortened her name. He likes it.
"You want a satanic cult leader. In our ice cream shop, normally full of vulnerable kids?" Robin protests, and suddenly something dawns on Steve.
"And, since when do you care about our customers?" Steve asks, joining her out front, one hand on his hip and the other on the tiny coffee cup. He narrows his eyes at her, looking for tells. He finds none but calls her bluff. He feigns surprise and laughs, "Oh my god, is he your ex or something?! Is that why you don't want him hanging around here?"
Robin recoils violently. "Oh my god! No! He's not my type."
"Really?" Steve asks with genuine surprise. Eddie was a non-conformist. He was far from ugly. Both musicians, both took drama and liked accessories. But, maybe he was a bit too rough around the edges and loud for Robin, despite how feisty she could be herself.
"Yes! Really!" She protests again, but there is something else here. Robin doesn't make it a habit to judge anyone that isn't a real piece of work type asshole, and though Eddie could be overwhelming, in their short interaction yesterday, he'd seemed quite nice, and due to their mutual school activities, they must have crossed paths often, so she must have seen that side of him too. Unless, like Steve, Eddie had his own mask to survive high school, which made him generally unpleasant to most people, and only let a select few see his genuine parts.
Steve isn't sure that Robin is precisely lying, but she is definitely hiding something.
****************
Steve pulls up outside Gina's apartment complex at 19:50. He's early, but he absolutely does not want to be late. So he waits exactly where Gina had asked him, and parks up, then sits patiently on his freshly washed car hood.
As he had no idea where they were going yet, he'd opted for something smart casual. The relaxed fit navy blue blazer and slacks combo, and an oh-so-soft pastel blue sweater underneath, perfect for cuddling into if that opportunity arose. Robin and Eddie obviously had made their opinions known on Gina, but he was way too much of a gentleman to make any such assumptions, and people can change.
At 20:08, Gina totters down the steps from the complex in the shortest, lowest cut, tightest, dark purple leather look dress Steve thinks he's seen outside of a music video. She looks incredible. Her body is banging, her makeup is flawless, her permed hair is tossed over in a voluminous side parting, and Steve cannot believe his goddamn luck. Holy shit. She’s a knockout.
He springs into date mode, jogs over to the other side of the street and offers her the crook of his elbow to escort her to the car, "Hey Gina, You look incredible!" Steve greets her beaming proudly.
She pops a chewing gum between her cherry-red lips and says, "You don't look so bad yourself, handsome." At that morsel of praise, Steve's heart soars. He's got it right tonight.
As she takes his arm, and they walk over to the car, he opens the door for her and takes her hand to help her into her seat before he gets in himself, "So, where to?" He asks with a huge smile.
"Ah, well, I thought we'd go to Patty's house party. It's not too far from here. Unless you wanna go somewhere else?" She asks.
"Are you kidding me?" Steve says with a gentle laugh and juts a thumb to himself. "I got the wheels. We can go wherever you want tonight." He turns and smiles reassuringly at her. "Anywhere at all."
She giggles, and Steve has to do everything he can not to rev the engine at his success so far.
As Gina directs, they hit a reasonably long stretch of road, and it falls quiet in the car, "So… What kind of music do you like?" Steve tries, it was a comfort area, and it let him get a little insight at the same time.
"Oh, all the hits, as long as I can dance to it, you know?" Steve's eyes almost tear from the road to look at her fondly. She's a dancer just like him. He tries to not let his excitement get the better of him and pepper her with a million follow-up questions.
It falls quiet again.
"Is it, um, Patty's birthday or something?" He asks as she reapplies her lipstick again in the pull-down mirror.
"Nah, nothing like that. She's got the biggest free house. Plus, it's right around the corner from the liquor store. It's just here. Look. Take a right." She replies.
They make their way into the party. Steve grabs the bottle of wine from the back seat and quickly moves around to her door to open it and assist her before locking up and offering his arm again. It earns him another melodic giggle, "Such manners, Steve. Is this how you treat all your dates?" She asks playfully, and he knows she means no harm, but unfortunately, it's the first dent in Steve's confidence tonight. She already knew he’s on a losing streak regarding keeping a girlfriend. He tries to see the positive. At least she seemed to like him, and she didn't know he'd recently had trouble getting any dates. He supposes that could give him some kind of playboy status.
It has been a while since Steve had been to a house party like this. It’s rammed with people, primarily seniors but as with Gina, himself and Patty, a few recent graduates too. The girls squeal with delight, throwing their hands into the air as they greet one another, and Gina pulls him forward to be introduced, "Patty, this is Steve. Steve, this is Patty." Steve gives her a big smile and a nod.
"Looks like it's gonna be a killer party. Here, hope you don't mind," he says, passing Patty the wine bottle. She pulls an impressed face and looks over at Gina, raising her eyebrows. Patty's boyfriend gives him a nod.
The party is much more fun than Steve anticipates. Gina likes to dance. A lot. With a little more physical enthusiasm than Steve was used to, but my god, he is the envy of the room. She likes to show Steve off to her friends and kisses him so many times he loses count. She looked incredible at the start of the evening, but she might be the most beautiful creature to walk the planet with how adored she was makes Steve feel. Steve makes a mental note to introduce her to his Mom when she's back in town.
After a small succession of kisses on the swings in Patty's back garden, Gina excuses herself to use the bathroom, "I'll be right back, handsome. Wait here for me? Don't go running off with any other pretty girls, now." She sends him a dazzling smile and a wink, and the love-whipped puppy, previously known as Steve Harrington, nods obediently as she walks inside. Then flicks his eyes to the night sky with a happy sigh.
"Don't fancy the slide, instead, Harrington?" A voice grins from the darkness.
"Eddie? What are you doing here, man?" Steve says in happy surprise. He's still floating around on cloud nine. Eddie sits on the tree stump opposite Steve and lights up a cigarette. The awkward feelings around Eddie were almost all gone. Or at least buried. It was a one-off, just a mixture of unique circumstances. The shame was still in there somewhere, but Gina had eclipsed it all for tonight.
"Oh, you know, I was at the bar, and heard someone mention that one of my old friends was gonna show here, so I tagged along." He offers the pack over to Steve, who declines and pops a chewing gum in his mouth. Eddie gives him a knowing smile, and Steve grins back and pushes himself on the swing a little, trying to channel some of that excitable energy somewhere."Going that well, huh?" He asks, raising his eyebrow as he pockets the carton.
Steve is desperately trying to remain cool, calm and collected about everything, but he's elated his losing streak is over, and what a woman to end it with. "Honestly, it's going a lot better than I thought it was going to."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks leadingly.
"Yeah," Steve says simply with a sigh, and that's when Eddie's expression changes, his mouth parts a little, but before he can say anything, someone calls out for him.
Patty rushes over, swaying a little, throws her arms around Eddie's neck, and hugs him. Eddie's face is a picture of panic, and Steve hides his laugh behind his hand.
"What you got on you then?" Patty slurs, looking up at Eddie and batting her eyelashes, and suddenly Eddie looks relieved and pulls out a few small bags of weed from inside his leather jacket. Steve observes him with confusion. Eddie said he was on pause dealing-wise.
"Thirty bucks for this little trio," Eddie offers with a toothy smile.
"Thirty!! Come on, Eddie, seriously. I can get twice as much for less," she complains and tugs at his denim vest.
He leans in and says quietly, "Yes, that is true, but I'm right here, and they're not right?" Then he pulls the same face he did at Steve in the record store. He knows he's won.
"Well," she steps closer to him again, and Steve sees Eddie visibly tense as Patty runs her hand up his chest, "Maybe we can come to a different arrangement, Eddie?"
Eddie clears his throat, and his eyes dart to Steve. "Oh hey, Steve, fancy meeting you here." His words are a desperate plea for help, and mischief swirls in Steve. Of course, he could just excuse himself and leave them to it, but something keeps him there, and as Patty turns, he sends her a little wave.
"Yeah, just out for some fresh air," Steve offers, and Eddie relaxes immediately as Patty creates some distance between them. She looks at Steve wide-eyed.
"Oh, hi again, Steve. Having a good night?" She asks nervously.
"It's a really great party, Patty. I'm having the best time," He answers genuinely.
She relaxes and smiles hugely at him. "It was really nice of you to come. Thanks for the wine and for helping Gina out tonight."
Steve smiles back, but he's a little confused. How was he helping Gina out? But before Steve can frame a question, Patty jumps ahead a few steps and answers.
"You're putting on a real show out there. It looks amazing. Though, if I may suggest, you are actually way too nice for her, so you might want to ease off on that a little." Patty enthusiastically reviews their date as Steve's eyebrows raise, and he blinks slowly.
"Hey Patty, how about twenty, huh?" Eddie puts a hand on her shoulder and tries to turn her towards himself, offering her the baggies again. She shrugs him off but fishes the money out of her pocket, her eyes still on Steve.
"Ohhh no," Patty says, overtly pouting her lips to indicate sadness, "widdle Stevie, didn't know." Steve stands up. His heart is pounding.
"Hey, that's enough!" Eddie says sharply to Patty.
"Oh, shut up, Eddie. Everyone knows she turns up to these things with someone and always leaves with Frankie. They're like Kismet or Kermit or whatever." She waves her hands drunkenly in the air.
"Everyone?" Steve asks in a whisper, and his eyes move from Patty to Eddie, who is frowning deeply. Steve folds his arms, "No, you're wrong. You'll see," he says and takes off back into the party. He can hear Eddie faintly calling after him until he hits the wall of music and chatter of the house.
He looks around for Gina, moving swiftly between rooms, as the flurry of panic starts to set in deep in his chest. They can't be right. Then finally, he catches the sight of her perfectly coiffed hair and pins himself to the other side of the wall, so he can hear her talking without being spotted.
"Are you kidding me? He's not a patch on you, honey. Not nearly as manly as I like, you know? Just a good little boy. Not my big strong bad boy Frankie." He can hear the purr in her voice, and it's followed by a deep chuckle from someone else.
An invisible force punches Steve straight in the guts, forcing all the air from his lungs. The dents in the carapace of his confidence get a few new deep siblings as he dusts himself off and sets off to leave. He knows he should be mad. He should be angry. He should march in there and give them a piece of his mind, but he feels completely numb. What he does do, however, is stop by the kitchen, take back his wine and a random bottle of mad dog 20/20, and slump off to his car.
As he gets closer, he sees a silhouette of someone sitting on the hood of his car. The jingle of them getting off it abruptly and moving quickly towards him lets him know it's Eddie.
"Steve, man, I'm sorry. That fucking sucks. Are you ok?" Eddie tries to reach out and hold his shoulders, but Steve steps back out of reach. Sure, he's deflated, but he doesn't have the reason or the energy to be mad at Eddie.
"You've got nothing to apologize for. No one does. It's not anyone else's fault that I'm too dumb to know what, apparently, everyone else knows," he says a little glumly but finishes it with a half smile and shrug as he moves around him to get in his car, but Eddie, being the scrawny beanpole he is, slips in between Steve and the door.
"Hey, I get it. She got me too. Except, you know I wasn't as good about it as you are." Eddie is talking to him, but Steve is simply trying to unlock his door and ignores him."And you know I would have warned you explicitly if it wasn't you, you know?" That gets Steve's attention.
"What do you mean if it wasn't me?" He asks, turning to face Eddie, whose face is much closer to his than he'd realized, and it causes a mini jump in his pulse. Had Eddie wanted to see Steve made a fool of?
One corner of Eddie's mouth ticks up. "You're Steve Harrington. King of Hawkins. If Gina was gonna change her spots for anyone, I would have put money on it being you." Eddie says it sincerely, but it makes Steve feel worse.
"Ex-King of Hawkins," Steve says, shaking his head, trying to move around Eddie without pushing him away. He wants to leave, but he isn't mad at Eddie.
"And-and the way she was with you at the coffee place. I mean, I thought she was into you. Anyone would have thought that, man. Besides, she was probably totally into you, I mean, look at you, but this guy, this Frankie, they're, like, weirdly obsessed with one another, and then the next minute not speaking to one another," Eddie desperately explains, and Steve can tell he's trying hard to make him feel better about all this.
That's when Steve makes a new category of mistake. He looks up at Eddie's face. His sad eyes meet Eddie's big compassionate ones, glinting with yellow specks of the street light.
"It's weird, honestly," Eddie finishes gently, and Steve gives him an understanding smile back.
"Thanks, man. I get it. I'll be fine. It's just a big misunderstanding. I'll go home, get wasted, and pass out. Then, wake up, and start over. I've bounced back from worse," Steve assures and gives Eddie a playful thump on the shoulder. "You're alright, you know that?" Steve actually manages a small genuine smile as he allows himself to compliment Eddie.
"Do you want some company? I got treats!" Eddie says, holding up three little bags of weed at Steve.
"How many of those do you have on you?" Steve huffs out a little laugh, and Eddie's smile widens.
"Just these three," Eddie smirks, pocketing them again.
"No, you sold three to Patty," Steve corrects him. Eddie leans back against Steve's car door and makes a show of looking thoughtful for a moment before he clicks his fingers like he remembers something.
"Oh darn it. I must have accidentally given her my bags of oregano. Good job you're so astute, Harrington. Otherwise, dinner times next week would have been very interesting." Eddie smiles mischievously, and Steve erupts with a laugh.
"You didn't!" He says, scandalized.
"I wasn't going to until she poked fun at you. Totally uncalled for. Also might have relieved myself in an empty and dropped it in their vat of punch." Eddie shrugs like it's nothing and then blinks up at Steve. "Is that enough to gain entry to a much better afterparty?"
That thing that snapped free in Steve when he was lying on the rug, immersed in the music and thoughts inspired by Eddie, vibrates within him.
He shouldn't.
He really shouldn't invite anyone back to his house when he feels like this, especially when his intention is to drink himself into forgetting all about Gina.
He absolutely shouldn't let down his guard to someone he's really only got to know the last few days.
He definitely shouldn't specifically welcome the man that resurrected the most secret, sinful parts of Steve into his home, where they would be alone together.
Steve can't decide, so he lets fate decide. "You got any more recommendations on you?"
"Shit, yeah! A fucking van full!" Eddie says enthusiastically.
And with that, Steve ignores every warning sign his brain throws up at him.
"Alright then. Follow me."
************
Eddie's van tails Steve's BMW along the inky black roads of Hawkins, intermittently interrupted by street lights when venturing through a more built-up area.
He turns up the radio a little to try to quieten the confused knot of feelings in his stomach. There was no question he was still feeling shockwaves from recently being absolutely crushed this evening, but now the excitement of something else tickles at the inside of his stomach. Him, Eddie and Music. Some of his private salacious thoughts rush through his mind again.
Steve would be more alarmed by them if it weren't for a few things.
Firstly this is not the first time Steve has had impure thoughts about a man. It just wasn't something he was gonna advertise in small-town Hawkins. Especially as he is one hundred per cent not just into guys. He'd sneakily read about it in the library and vowed as soon as he had the means it was definitely the big city for him, a place where other people like him could live much freer lives.
Secondly, he had heard things about Eddie, and he is sure it was because they labeled him a devil worshiper or monster that the town also whispered about him being into the more, what some of the stuck-up people of Hawkins might consider the debauched side of life. He'd heard that when people threw homophobic slurs at him, he played up to them. Flirted with his persecutors to scare people more, but honestly, he had just added that to the massive pile of slanderous gossip about Eddie. Prior to yesterday, he had always assumed that by being in a band, Eddie got his fair share of women. But now he wasn't so sure. Maybe tonight, he'd find out.
Thirdly the only person Steve knew of that had ever assumed him to be anything but straight was his father. So if that rumor started, Steve is confident he could squash it reasonably quickly.
Fourth, and this was probably the cruelest of his thoughts. If he did accidentally say too much or give something away to Eddie tonight, who on earth would believe known degenerate Eddie over golden boy Steve?
Steve had fooled around with just one guy before, Tommy, and always, always, always when they were wasted or high. Tommy said it didn't count, and honestly, Steve didn't mind. He liked Tommy, well, when he wasn't being a complete asshole, but it was more an avenue of mutual exploration than a relationship.
Tommy was handsome, but he was two-dimensional. All their shared interests were superficial. Maybe it was because they had been friends for so long that there wasn't anything to peel back and get his teeth into. He was enough to quicken his pulse, but that had been more to do with the thrill of doing something so forbidden than the man himself. Tommy didn't move Steve.
But Eddie.
Eddie might.
With no other cars on the driveway, he waves Eddie forward up to the house once Steve parks up.
He grabs the bottles from his car and sees Eddie emerge with his little lunch box and his arms laden with tapes. Steve unlocks the front door into the dark house and heads inside, Eddie close behind.
"Your folks in bed?" Eddie whispers.
"No, they're out of town. Work, you know?" Steve puts the wine back in the kitchen wine rack and holds up the glass liquor bottle contained within, "Wanna get straight to it, or would you prefer some beers first?" Steve asks with a happy host smile. Eddie is still marveling at the house, his round eyes searching the darkness. Steve wonders what for.
"Just a beer, thank you," Eddie says slowly, entirely distracted by everything.
"The hi-fi is just through there in the den, or if you wanna smoke, we can sit by the pool?" Steve offers, seeing Eddie's arms still full of tapes.
"What time are your folks back?" Eddie calls back from further away now, as Steve hears the clatter of plastic cassette boxes and the jingle of Eddie's wallet chain as he returns. There must be something special in that, having your own noise, so people know it's you.
"I dunno, not until next week, though, I imagine," Steve says, offering Eddie one of the two beer cans.
Eddie's eyebrows knit. "Next week? Are you for real?"
"Yeah, once I got my license, they stopped getting a nanny in." Steve laughs.
"Was that a joke?" Eddie says, laughing too.
"I mean, I tried. Unfortunately, I'm no Steve Martin." Steve shrugs and smiles happily at Eddie as he stabs and shotguns his beer.
"Who are you, and what happened to sad Steve?" Eddie's eyes narrowly playfully. He wraps his arm around himself as he observes him and takes a sip of his own can.
"You want me to go get him? I'm sure he's around here somewhere…." Steve looks behind one of the drapes.
Eddie's head tilts with pure amusement, and that nice smile spreads across his face again as he observes Steve, "My god, funny too, huh?" There is something in the way his voice softly wraps around the words that sets a slight panic in Steve, almost reaching for the light switch to plunge them into the safety of bright light. Instead, his brain gives him a subject change.
"Shit, what about your friend at the party? Did you get a chance to speak to them?" Steve runs his hand through his hair, realizing he's probably ruined Eddie's night too.
He simply shrugs in reply, then changes the subject himself. "What's with all the candles in there? Did your power go out?" Eddie gestures back to the den. Steve closes his eyes, remembering he hadn't cleaned up in there yet, and then a real fear creeps over him, hoping that he hadn't left anything else incriminating in there.
Steve half-lies quickly. "Oh, ambience!"
Eddie points back at him. "Yeah, of course, your girl from last night. Setting the scene for seduction," Eddie says, pretending to swoon.
"Well, more for relaxing than romance in particular, but sometimes one can lead to another," Steve says, and he does let that hang in the air for a while to see if there is any reaction from Eddie. Sadly nothing to help him assess him further. Maybe it was too subtle. "Do you maybe wanna head out for a smoke?" Steve asks, turning to get himself another beer.
"Now that is much more my brand of relaxing," Eddie laughs, grabbing his lunchbox.
Steve catches up to him and puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Wait, how about you pick out a tape? I'll grab the boom box."
Eddie's eyes move to Steve's hand on his shoulder first, then to his face, with a blink, "Yeah." Steve shakes Eddie's shoulder and gives it a good old sports pat before removing it entirely. He watches Eddie's face for any signs, and he's pretty sure the smile he gives him before he walks towards the treasure trove of tapes is one of disappointed realization. Or maybe Steve had all his hopes resting on that being the case. Hope is such poisoned manna. Maybe physicality wasn't the way to get Eddie to reveal a little more. Maybe Steve could try something else to find the answers to his questions. Something Eddie loves to do. Talk about himself.
Steve sets up the player between two loungers and turns on the pool lights. Ambience, he thinks, though honestly, the waning moon is setting the scene enough for him. He doesn’t wanna make it too obvious. He kicks up his feet on the lounger, sips at his beer, and waits. After a few minutes, he starts to get a little concerned, but as soon as he sits up, Eddie arrives with an entire box of tapes and an excitable smile.
"I, uh, couldn't decide what you might like, so I just brought them all out and found a box in the kitchen; hope you don't mind. Just easier to move 'em around," Eddie excuses and thunks down onto the lounger next to Steve’s. "So take your pick," he says, gesturing at the box and pulling a pre-rolled joint out of his pocket, which he lights up quickly.
This isn't really what Steve wants. He wants Eddie to show him around what Eddie likes. He wants to hear him gush over riffs and lyrics. Tell him how it feels when he plays them, and show him how his dexterous fingers leave no part of the fretboard untouched. But Steve recognises Eddie's apprehension and decides to play the game at least. He reaches into the box with one hand, sorting through the tapes, and with the other, without taking his eyes from the music collection, makes a come hither motion at the joint, which, pleasingly, Eddie acknowledges without protest, and Steve soon finds it slotted between his fingers as he pretends to peruse the album artwork and track listings.
He can feel Eddie's eyes on him, and out of the corner of his eye, he observes Eddie's hands on his thigh and knee and sometimes, when Steve picks up or hovers over a particular tape, his fingers tense, possibly with excitement Steve guesses. He takes a long drag on the shared substance.
To Steve's surprise, the selection of tapes is more varied than he thought. Sure, there is a lot of what he guesses from the names, titles, or artwork are metal, rock, and punk, but there is a chart hits compilation, some new wave electronic stuff, country and classical. Steve hands back the joint and takes a sharp intake of breath as he sits up.
"You know, Eddie. I'm a little overwhelmed by all the choices here."
"Ah, too many? Sorry. I just didn't know what you'd wanna listen to." Eddie nods apologetically, and something in the way he says it makes Steve wonder if too many or too much is his habit. Maybe he'd been hurt before by people telling him he was too much.
"Well, how about this? How about instead of this being about what I like," Steve looks up to him with a friendly smile, "you show me what you like. Maybe it'll be the same." He gives a little shrug and wonders if Eddie might pick up on any subtext.
"Doubt it," Eddie laughs with a quick glance up at Steve from the tapes.
"Oh, ye of little faith. I really liked the Hendrix one, best out of the three." Steve offers him a guiding thread to assist. He would continue about how he will probably play it to death, but as he looks over, Eddie's face reads excited already.
"Really?" He says, and the innocence of the question makes Steve feel like he's in middle school again. Making friends over sports or movies, but then suspicion rears its ugly little head, and Eddie folds his arms and leans forward. "Oh yeah? Tell me what you liked about it."
Steve doesn't want to give away too much of himself. "Foxey Lady is a fun track, and Fire." Eddie rolls his eyes a little and nods.
"You like Purple Haze too, I bet?" Eddie says a little condescendingly, and he's unsure if it's the beer and weed starting to mix on no food because he didn't know if he was going to dinner with Gina, but Steve feels a little insulted.
"Well, who the fuck doesn't like Purple Haze?" Steve fires back. "It's a great piece of music."
"Whoa-ho-ho, Harrington. Don't get your little panties in a twist. I was just guessing." Eddie chuckles, putting his hands up defensively, offering the olive branch of the joint back to Steve, who takes a pretty deep inhale from it and sends it right back, picking up his beer.
"No, you weren't. I mentioned some popular songs, and you immediately judged me, thinking that's all I listened to when that is not the case at all! Also, that's why they are popular, by the way, because they're great songs. So you could maybe get off your high horse about it." Steve complains and puts Eddie in his place. Or so he thinks.
Eddie's grin widens, and that sparkle in his eye returns, and now Steve can't work out if he's walked right into something or if Eddie is simply amused. His hand extends to him again, and Steve, though a little confused, accepts the smoke and takes another hit.
"I also really liked 'Manic Depression'," Steve adds much more gently, opening the door to his true feelings, a crack, "How it details in the words and melody his relationship with music, the emotion behind in 'The Wind Cries Mary', and that bluesy feel to 'Red House'. Those songs also easily transport you someplace else." Steve says, taking a glug from his can and, realizing it's empty, standing up to get another.
"Wait-wait-wait," Eddie says hurriedly, looking up at him. "Here, I picked this up on the way past too." He holds up the glass bottle that Steve selected from Patty's party. Steve takes it from him and sits back down, knocking back a swig and wincing at the taste and heat, but Eddie ignores it. He has other things to address. "What do you mean someplace else?" He leans forward over the tape box towards Steve, eyeing him like a scientist looks at their specimen.
"In your imagination, you know, the music takes you somewhere else." Steve shrugs, taking another swig as Eddie sips his beer.
"Where'd it take you?" Eddie asks, tilting his head, and though Steve's heart rate quickens at the thought of the truth, he sees an opportunity.
"You sure do ask a lot of questions. What if we trade? I'll answer yours, you answer mine? That seems fairer to me." Steve doesn't have to wait long for a reply, but he’s stalling to craft an answer that doesn't involve revealing more than he wants to.
"Yeah, sure," Eddie says, brushing it off. "So where did they take you, these songs?"
"Ah-ah-ah, Eddie. You gotta answer one first," Steve teases, and Eddie, denied an answer to his question, folds his arms. Steve adds to his assessment.
Adorable sulking face.
"Fine," Eddie pouts.
"So, the three tapes you gave me were great, exactly what I needed, and I thought, how does a guy get so knowledgeable about this kinda stuff, and then I remembered you were in a band, you play, er, bass, right? So I naturally assumed-" Steve lies. He wants to avoid coming across as knowing too much about Eddie.
"Lead guitar, actually. Sing a little too," Eddie interrupts proudly and waves Steve on to continue with his question.
"So I assumed that you must have girls throwing themselves at you? Right?" Steve asks with as innocent curiosity as he can muster.
"More girls throw themselves at me for drugs than music, but that could change. The stuff I play is becoming more popular," Eddie replies, and Steve tries to see what he can get out of a few quickfire questions.
"Oh, so you're inundated with women then?" Steve asks with a raise of his eyebrow.
"No," Eddie answers.
"Right, you must have a girlfriend…"
"No. Listen, are we here to discuss music or my love life?" Eddie defends, and Steve feels like he must have touched a nerve, so he tries some humor.
He mimics Eddie’s hand gestures and voice from earlier. "Whoa-ho-ho, Munson! Don't get your panties in a knot about it!" And that is enough to make Eddie laugh. "Jesus, I was just getting to know you. After all, you've had a front-row seat to my car crash love life tonight." Steve self-deprecates and laughs, but Eddie doesn't.
"I'm sorry, man. I wish I'd just said something in the coffee line, but I swear what I said earlier was absolutely true. If it had been anyone other than you, I wouldn't have thought they stood a chance and warned them," Eddie says with genuine regret.
Steve takes a swig out of the bottle and reassures him, "Not the first time I got my confidence destroyed at a house party. Maybe it won't be the last, but like I said, I bounce back well enough. Last time was a whole lot worse. Met her parents, told her I loved her and meant it, and thought she did too. Turns out she didn't." Steve glances up at Eddie, who looks sad for him. "Anyway, back to why we're here. Pick a damn tape, Eddie, would ya?" Steve laughs, trying to lift the mood, and holds out the liquor bottle to him, but Eddie declines.
"Can't get too wasted. Otherwise, getting home is gonna be more of a challenge." He smiles down into the tapes.
"You can stay over if you want. There's plenty of room." Steve offers, maybe too quickly. He takes another drink to style it out.
Eddie looks up and acts all shy. "Wow, Harrington! Take a guy to dinner first," he chuckles and grins at Steve, who nearly spits out his drink.
Composing himself a little, he replies, "If I order pizza, does that count as dinner?" Steve smirks.
Eddie flips his hair over his shoulder with a flick of his hand after pushing play on the tape deck, "It's a little less than I was expecting to be wined and dined by Steve Harrington, but, uh, it'll do." He says as he grabs the bottle from Steve and takes a sip, "Holy shit, urgh." He grimaces as the night air fills with chugging guitar riffs, and a voice fills the air that Steve has definitely never heard before.
Eddie happily gestures to the boom box with both hands. "This is the self-titled album by W.A.S.P.”
Steve chuckles, “I know how to spell Wasp!”
Eddie shakes his head, “No you say Wasp but they are actually W.A.S.P.” He beams at Steve and taps the metal pin on his vest, then takes a deep breath, ”anyway It contains such mind-shredding tracks as The Flame, Tormentor, The Torture Never Stops and Show no Mercy, which has one of the finest dick-twitching solos I've ever played." Steve sees Eddie literally shudder, and he's drawn in immediately. This is what he wanted, but before he can push for more information, Eddie is out of his seat pacing around the loungers. "Also the more famous, 'I Wanna Be Somebody', 'Hellion', even a spine chilling cover of 'Paint it Black' by The Stones. For the more romantic souls out there, 'L.O.V.E Machine', 'Sleeping in the fire' and 'Animal' which is more commonly known as," and he leans right down to Steve's ear, "‘I fuck like a beast’. Which is what you're listening to right now." With a laugh, he takes another swing from the bottle, shoving it back into Steve's chest, and walks back around to his lounger, props one foot on it, and starts air guitaring and headbanging along to the song. Steve grips the lounger beneath him for dear life. He swears right there he's gonna get them tickets to every fucking W.A.S.P show he can, and he'll definitely need to buy this album now. Tomorrow, first thing.
"You can play all these?" Steve says, trying not to sound too in awe. Eddie doesn't look up from his fingers on the imaginary fretboard, and honestly, Steve doesn't blame him.
"Pretty much. Better at my favorites or the ones we play in the band." Steve needs to see that, or maybe that would undo him completely. Maybe best not to. Steve imagines how he looks on stage, sweating under the lights, straining as he yells into the microphone. "So where did it take you?"
"What?" Steve asks, wholly lost in his thoughts.
"Maybe you should slow down there, champ. Are you alright? You look a little flushed." Eddie stops what he's doing and goes over to his little lunch box, retrieves a small candy bar, and sits next to Steve on the lounger, placing it in Steve's lap. "Lemme see." Eddie grasps Steve's jaw in one hand and examines him, his eyes comically wide as he analyzes him, making Steve giggle. Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile, and taps his face, snatches up the candy bar and tosses it back in his lunch pail. "You're good." He shrugs off his jackets and leans against the backrest of Steve’s lounger, a long leg on either side of the part where Steve is sitting, making their legs graze one another occasionally as he sparks up a cigarette, which he balances in the corner of his lips. "Hendrix, where did it take you?"
The sudden display of open confidence, the way he just splays his long limbs out like that. Like he owns the place, makes something squirm inside of Steve, and maybe he feels a little shy now, saying, "I dunno, maybe it's lame." Eddie frowns as he plucks the cigarette from his mouth.
"I'll let you know if it's lame." He says, blowing smoke rings in the air.
"Er. It's difficult to explain, but sorta like things I know from that era and sound, psychedelic colors, and then like imagining watching it live," Steve's mind takes him right back to last night, "and 'Hey Joe' was like being pulled into a landscape painting, 'Are you experienced?' and 'Stone Free' was like moving through outer space, you know? Maybe I'm talking shit, but that's where I went anyway," Steve finishes, avoiding Eddie's eyes a little, as when he says it aloud for the first time, it loses all its magic.
"You listen to all music like that? I mean, go places?" Eddie mutters the question softly, and Steve chances to look over, and Eddie's expression almost looks hopeful.
"No, it just kinda happens sometimes. Like a daydream almost, and then I get these like tingles-" Steve starts, but Eddie finishes.
"Along your neck and arms?" And now Steve can hear the excitement in his voice, so he turns to him and indicates along his cheekbones, arms and legs.
"Yeah, kinda," Steve replies, and it doesn't feel bad at all having Eddie's eyes move over him like that.
"Do you play an instrument?" Eddie asks, sitting forward towards Steve now, his eyes eager for answers. Steve doesn't want to get his hopes up too high, but Eddie has not ridiculed him. Hasn't made an awkward face or an excuse to leave. If anything, he wants more, and with that power shift again, Steve tries something else. He leans back on his elbows across the lounger, his arm resting a little on Eddie's leg, and stretches out his torso comfortably.
"Eddie," he smiles, "I gotta get some questions in, too, you know?"
"Oh yeah, shoot, dude," Eddie says matter-of-factly.
"Are you gonna bite my head off again if I ask about your love life?" Steve asks with a laugh.
"Fine, as long as you tell me why you're so interested because I'd much rather be talking about music, honestly." And with a reply like that, it's almost as if Steve already has his answer.
"Look, in the record store, you were selling me that Mötley Crüe album, happy as anything, and I knew you were in a band, so my brain just assumed you were like a chick magnet, just maybe not the ones from school, you know? But then you got all nervous when I asked you about music girls liked, and whilst there isn't anything wrong with that, it wasn't what I expected. So does that explain better?"
Eddie looks a little sheepish but then smiles and shrugs. "Sorry to burst your Eddie Munson bubble there, Harrington."
Steve gestures at himself. "It's overrated. Living proof right before your eyes. Music doesn't let you down like that, though, huh?" And that earns him a sweet smile, "So tell me to fuck off at any point, but I sort of can't believe it, honestly. So is it that you don't have a girlfriend right now, or like never have?"
"Define girlfriend," Eddie says, playing with his rings.
"A girl you've taken on a date," Steve says.
"Yeah, I've had a girlfriend or two then," Eddie says, but Steve doesn't detect any fun glimmers of nostalgia, but that squashed one Hawkins rumor about Eddie, he obviously liked girls.
"But…" Steve leads him a bit further.
"But that was literally it. We just went to the movies or the diner for milkshakes," Eddie says, a little disappointed.
"You ever taken Robin, the girl I work with, on a date?" Steve pries a little further.
"Not a date as such. We just used to hang around one another a lot for a while, and then, erm," Eddie looks thoughtfully into the sky, "then I guess I asked her something, probably too personal, and I'm definitely not telling you what it is, so don't ask, and she's kind of avoided me since." Eddie looks regretful, and Steve decides to give him a break.
"I don't play an instrument. I tried a bunch of different ones but could never get one to stick. Even tried singing, which I'm ok at, but you know, not opera or anything like that." Steve sighs and looks up to the night sky. "No matter how much I love music, I just don't have the talent to make or mimic it, apparently."
"Maybe you just had a shit, stuck-up teacher," Eddie says quickly, and that does bite of a lived experience. "When I was a kid before I moved here. I had this teacher; all he wanted to teach me was like campfire songs to do with god or nursery rhymes. I learned enough to find my way around the acoustic, but then, well, I couldn't go anymore, but honestly, by that point, I didn't want to. He sucked." Eddie raises his eyes to Steve, "But then I got here. Just my clothes and my guitar slung across my back and moved in with my Uncle. Now that guy taught me how to play. We figured out that I could actually, when not being bullied into some kumbaya shit, play by ear, and when I'd get stuck, Wayne would help me. He showed me all his anti-war favorites and even started off my savings for the guitar I have now. He got me a second-hand electric pretty quickly and amps. He's good like that. Finding the best bits of people and nurturing them. Probably regrets it a little now, though." Eddie laughs with so much fondness in his voice.
"I bet he doesn't. I bet he loves seeing how much you enjoy playing." Steve nods at the sky.
"If you wanted, I could help you learn guitar. Well, what I know anyway," Eddie says kindly, which makes Steve ignore the entire cosmos and focus on him.
"What, like what we're listening to now? Play like you?" Steve blurts out excitedly.
Eddie tries to hide his smile, "Well, anything you like, really, and I can't guarantee you'd be as good as me, but we'd try," he says as the repressed smile breaks out across his face, and Steve gives him a little playful shove, and this time Eddie returns it.
"Alright, you're on. I'll take a look at guitars tomorrow." Steve grins back.
"You can borrow one of mine if you like? It's no problem" Eddie shrugs like it's nothing, and Steve nervously swallows. God, he wants this. Wants Eddie. Wants someone who knows what he means when he explains how a song makes him feel. Who doesn't laugh at him or make a face and knows so much. Eddie feels like a drug that would be the multi gateway to everything he could possibly need. They sit silently for a minute or so, "The girlfriend thing. I, uh, well, I stopped trying because I'd get so nervous. The date would be fine, you know, I can talk the ears off of the corn harvest, but, uh, I'd just bottle it at the goodbye. I just built it up in my head too much, I think. I just wanted to get it right, and when presented with the opportunity, I thought I was gonna fuck it up, so I'd just hug them goodbye. Then they'd think I didn't like them, but I'm too much of a coward to admit I was scared, so I just stopped trying."
"Well, you're not a coward. Navigating girls can be terrifying, Eddie, and maybe," Steve turns on his side towards Eddie on the lounger, propping his head up on his hand, "maybe you just had a bunch of shit, stuck-up teachers."
"Yeah, well, if kissing lessons were something I could buy, Harrington, believe me, I would have already invested heavily a long time ago." Eddie laughs, playing with his rings again, and Steve's so happy that Eddie isn't looking at him right now because he is literally chewing on his bottom lip, desperately trying to find a way to gently prod the opportunity the universe just chucked into his lap. Come on, Steve.
"Well, if I'd known there was a market for that sort of thing, maybe I wouldn't have to be working slinging ice cream to attitude-filled kids loaded up on sugar." Steve laughs, looking down at and playing with the material threads of the lounger, and then glances up at Eddie subtly.
Steve's heart skips when he finds Eddie looking up at him from under his hair, frozen, mid-picking at his nails.
"How many first kisses do you think you've been?" Eddie asks, and Steve can hear the curious caution in every word.
Fighting his every urge, Steve breaks eye contact to look up, like he's pretending to remember them all. He doesn't actually know. "Oh tons, and you know it is exactly what you said. It's all just nerves. Most of them get much better once the first one's over. Probably the same as the first time you played on stage. I'm guessing here, but you probably still get a little nervous now, but not enough to stop you, right?" Eddie makes a thoughtful noise in response, and Steve hopes he's done enough leading, but all he really wants is a red or green light to let him know what to do next, but they're sort of stuck in a kind of limbo, and he can feel the tension in him, stretching, and any minute now it's just going to snap. "I think you'll find it easy once you get past the nerves, sure there are some dos and don'ts, but, it's mostly playing it by ear, reading the other person, and from what you've said, those things come easily to you, right?"
"Right." Eddie agrees, "How did you learn, or did it just happen organically, like when it's supposed to?" Steve almost feels a little sorry for him, and he could tell the truth here, that it had just naturally occurred sitting on the porch with his middle school girlfriend watching the sunset, or he could bend the truth a little, maybe making Eddie feel better and nudge at this situation simultaneously.
Steve readjusts his position. He sits up and straddles the lounger, mirroring Eddie, facing one another. "If I tell you, you are absolutely sworn to secrecy. Ok? Like to the grave!" Steve says as seriously as he can, and Eddie perks up. His eyes revert to an excited look as they scan Steve, hungry for secrets, with a couple of enthusiastic nods. "No, you gotta swear. I mean it! I'd never live it down." Steve lays it on thick as he looks Eddie right in the eyes.
He frowns slightly to show his earnestness, "I swear, man. I would never tell. Also, even if I wanted to, that would involve exposing myself too. Why was I talking about first kisses with Steve Harrington in the first place, right?"
"Yeah," Steve makes a show of relaxing a little, and Eddie shuffles forward a little, leaning into the secret. "So believe it or not, before my first kiss, I was much like yourself, nervous about it, and I was talking to my best friend about it, and they felt the same, so we kinda, uh, practiced with one another?"
Eddie deflates a little. "Oh, I see. Well, that's not so bad. Handy to have a willing girlfriend around to help out." Eddie forces an awkward laugh.
"It wasn't my girlfriend, Eddie. It was my best friend," Steve says, hammering down each word like the heaviest hints of all time.
"You know what I mean, a friend who's a girl," Eddie says, and Steve really doesn't want to have to spell it out, but it looks like he might have to. He adds to his Eddie assessment.
Intelligent but can't read between the lines.
"I've not had a girl best friend since kindergarten, Eddie." Steve tries again.
Eddie looks horrified. "You were kissing in kindergarten? Jesus! Way to make me feel even worse about all of…" and then he stalls, like his brain engine full on cuts out. His eyes move around the lounger in between them like he's solving the meaning of life, and suddenly his head lifts, and his eyes lock with Steve's, "Your first kiss wasn't with a girl? I-I mean…your friend…it was a boy. The one you practiced kissing with was a boy. A boy?" Steve can't hold back his laughter and just nods, putting a hand on either side of his own face like he's mortified.
"Please don't tell anyone, Eddie. I just wanted you to know, as much as it would appear, I'm pretty confident in that department now. I was just as nervous as you once." Steve smiles, and his heart is pounding hard. It was a risk. A big one, but if it meant either squashing this crush or the impossibility that maybe this could happen, he needed to take it.
"Right, ok," Eddie says, and it makes Steve a little concerned because he sounds a little panicked. Steve's heart sinks.
"Want another beer? I'm gonna go get one," Steve says, using his chipper customer service mask. He makes sure to smile big at Eddie like he isn't getting his heart crushed for the second time this evening, though this time is entirely his fault.
"Yeah, I could go for another beer," Eddie says without looking at Steve. Well, at least he didn't want to leave immediately. That was one good thing, Steve thinks as he walks as casually as possible to the fridge, ducks his head inside it, and curses.
"Shit!" He whispers and takes a deep breath before grabbing two cans. Then he hears a faint jingle.
"Is it much different?" Eddie's voice comes from the dark of the kitchen, and the rate at which Steve's head lifts makes him bang it on the refrigerator.
Steve rubs his head. "Jesus Christ, dude. Don't sneak up on me like that." He hands the can to Eddie and heads out to the pool again, but Eddie stops him, a gentle hand on his arm.
"Is there much difference between the two?" At first, Steve is confused, maybe from the jump scare or the bump to his head, but then he catches on.
"Erm…I dunno. It wasn't really a side-by-side comparison, and we were a lot younger then, but no, I don't remember anything being too different. Other than the person, but then you can kiss two girls, and they can be different too. Not everyone likes the same things, but like I say, you'll read that easy enough, or they'll let you know if they like or don't like something." It's dark in here, but he can still read the confusion on Eddie's face. "It would be kinda like you teaching guitar students to play the same song. They might all have different guitars. Some might have favored acoustic over electric, and some might embellish on parts, but it's still recognisable as the same song. Does that make sense?"
"Yeah, that does make sense." Eddie's voice is much more at ease, "And even though you kissed a guy, you still like girls, right?"
"I feel like I don't need to answer that, Eddie." Steve rolls his eyes and puts a hand on his hip, making Eddie laugh.
"Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry. I forgot about earlier." Eddie chuckles.
"That's ok. If it wasn't for you, my night could have ended a lot worse, that's for sure." Steve says thankfully. "Your friend being in town was pretty lucky."
"Hmmm, yeah, that was lucky, wasn't it." Eddie's rings tap the side of his beer can as he sways from side to side a little, and soon, some things are coming together for Steve.
"There was no friend at the party, was there?" Steve says in realization, and Eddie smiles and shakes his head in a no. "You knew what was gonna happen because you found out that guy was gonna be there."
"I suspected. I didn't know. What I said earlier was true about Gina liking you. I also remember how shitty I felt when it happened to me, but when I got there, you looked like you were having a great time, so I went to leave but heard him in one of the other rooms, and I just suspected the worst." Eddie explains, and doesn't Steve's whole heart swell at such a level of sweetness and care. He barely knew him, but he still looked out for him.
"Thanks, man," Steve smiles fondly at him. Maybe other things were impossible dreams, but he feels sure he at least has a new friend, "You know what? I'm gonna take you up on your offer. How much do you charge for a lesson?"
"Well, I thought maybe," Eddie scratches the back of his head, "Maybe we could…I dunno…er…trade expertise?" He suggests. It's a good job Steve had spent most of his life learning to hide his emotions when he needed to, specifically for moments like this. His heart is thundering in his chest, his brain is scrambled with a million different types of static, and his hand wants to crush the can in his grip with sheer excitement. Two days ago, this wasn't even on his radar. Two days ago, this delectable taboo wasn't even on his menu. It was on a hidden secret menu only he knew about, and yet here it was, being presented on a silver platter, and it's taking every ounce of resolve he has not to grab hold of it and greedily consume it quickly before the invitation is revoked. Oh, and he knows he's been bad tonight, a little trick here and a little lie there, and maybe he does feel like a bit of a creep about it, but it's not enough to say no. He was jonesing for something he'd never even tasted, but every neuron and hormone in his body told him he wanted it. No. He needed it. He'd let future Steve live with the regret and consequences.
"Sure. That sounds good," he says pleasantly. "When shall I book you in?" He says with a friendly laugh.
"Uh, now?" Eddie says.
"Now?" Steve says, a little surprised.
"Yeah, once I get the first one done. I'm good, right? Just beginner's stage fright. Then I can grab the guitars out of the van, and I can return the favor," Eddie says like he's working through the facts in his head, and suddenly Steve's excitement is a little dampened. Eddie wanted it over with, and Steve guesses he expected it, but hearing it out loud from Eddie kinda stung a little, but that was fine, right? Or would a taste of honey be worse than none at all?
"Yeah. Cool. Um, where do you think you'd feel most comfortable? It's your nerves that are the issue, so what do you do to relax?" Steve asks, and Eddie laughs.
"Well, we've kind of already been doing that, but, uh, maybe not outside somewhere a bit more private. But, uh, this is my first time here, so I don't know where would be best." He looks around for a second. "What about where you set up last night?" Steve gives a one-shoulder shrug like his insides were not currently leapfrogging over one another to see who could get a chug of that sweet adrenaline first.
"Sure. I'll tidy up my crap, and why don't you bring your stuff in, so we can pick a song you can teach me afterwards?"
"Gotcha! See you in a sec, smoochy-poo," Eddie cackles, and Steve laughs too, out of excitement more than anything, but he's glad Eddie is making light of the situation. It's sneaky and underhanded, but it eases the guilt hearing him joke about it, even if this was going to mean something to Steve but nothing to Eddie.
Steve quickly tidies away his tapes and almost dies when he notices he'd left the bottle of lotion down here and quickly kicks it under a chair to worry about tomorrow. He turns off the light and decides it's too dark, but with the light on, it is too bright. He decides to light one candle, so a bit of light is cast around the room, but the main lights are all off. Then he tries to find the most casual standing pose he can, trying a few, realizes he's being stupid and then fluffs some cushions, just to put the energy somewhere.
The door opens soon enough, and Eddie barrels in, tape deck in one hand, box of tapes in the other, which also now contained his lunchbox, some fresh beers, and the partially emptied bottle of liquor. His silhouette stops dead in the doorway.
"Why's it so dark in here?" Eddie asks a little nervously.
"Well, I thought, if you couldn’t see me, you could maybe pretend I was someone you wanted to kiss, you know. Maybe that would help?" Steve says kindly. "I can put the lights on if you want. It doesn't bother me."
Eddie dumps the things in his arms, W.A.S.P still pouring out of the portable tape deck's speakers. "No, no. You're right. This is good. I trust you to be the expert here." As he turns and walks towards Steve, the light hits his face, and Steve can at least see and hear he's smiling a tiny bit.
"Ok, so, here is what I think, and if any of it feels like it's gonna make you or is making you feel uncomfortable, just say, ok? You're under no pressure here," Steve reassures him, and despite how much he wants this, he does mean that. "I thought we could do it standing, and I'll keep my hands by my sides, just in case you are worried about anything I told you earlier, and you can just go for it. No judgment, and I'll help you if you want me to, ok? Eddie's rules," Steve says kindly.
"Eddie's rules," he repeats and steps forward toward Steve, who is busy trying to be as still and least intimidating as he can, but he can see as Eddie approaches he's shaking, almost vibrating.
"Are you cold?" Steve asks, concerned.
"No, just nervous," Eddie says, his voice trembling.
Steve lifts his arms slowly from his sides to either side of Eddie's shoulders. "May I?" He says, and Eddie nods. Steve places his hands on Eddie's upper arms.
"Look at me, Eddie." And those big brown doe eyes sweep up to meet Steve's gaze. "You've nothing to worry about. You wanna not do it. That's fine. We can try another time or never speak of it again. If it's awful, you've lost nothing. I'm not someone you need to impress with this, and I'm not gonna tell a soul for obvious reasons. You're safe here." He rubs Eddie's arms gently. "And if you wanna crank the music up, move me somewhere else, change the lights, or anything at all, you can. Eddie's rules, remember?" And Steve knows this image of those sweet candle-lit eyes looking at him for reassurance might be etched into his brain forever. He removes his hands and puts them down by his sides. "Consider me like, I dunno, like a mannequin or something."
"Alright," Eddie says quietly. He's still shaking a little but not as much, and it is adorable, even if it is a million miles from the wild rock star Steve had pictured in his imagination. It is stunning, nonetheless. The candlelight was a mistake. He looks beautiful in it.
Eddie does turn the music up, and on his way back to Steve appears to be psyching himself up, pacing around and rolling his shoulders, like he'd seen plenty of times in locker rooms before a game, and he desperately wants to laugh, but doesn't want to shake Eddie's confidence. So he waits with the same patient, friendly smile on his face.
Eddie finally takes a few steps towards him. "Ok, I got this. It's just like mwah and done. Easy." Eddie speaks his inner monologue aloud whilst staring intensely at Steve's mouth before his eyes flick up to Steve's, who returns a kind nod. Eddie rubs his hands together. "Right, here goes nothing."
Eddie closes the gap, and just like that, Eddie Munson is kissing Steve Harrington. It is one of the most fantastic and agonizing things Steve has ever experienced. Eddie's mouth is so soft and pillowy. This close, Steve can absorb the full bouquet of his aromas. Alcohol, weed, tobacco, leather, pine, patchouli, musk, engine oil, a hint of gasoline, and it's so heady Steve wants to roll his eyes back into his skull and live here forever. He smells like high-speed rock ‘n’ roll, and Steve wants it bottled. And yet, at the same time, he's restricted. He can't reach out to pull Eddie closer. He can't deepen this kiss. He can't plunge his hands into his wild hair or explore under his shirt. He has to stay perfectly still for Eddie.
Steve unexpectedly adds 'Good Kisser' to his Eddie assessment.
This memory would always have to be Steve's secret album track. One hidden after minutes worth of silence right at the end of side B that wasn't even labeled on the album itself. Hidden away from prying eyes, only there for him when he felt like delving deeply enough, but he knows this is always going to be in his top ten. A mental polaroid, their mouths perfectly fitted together just like this.
Eddie tilts into it a little more, and Steve's every fiber is crying out to match his energy, but he promised he'd stay still, but he could be pliant. There is an extra wave of alcohol between them as Steve feels pressure from Eddie's tongue, teasing his mouth to part slightly. He obliges willingly but knows not to give too much. Eddie's doing the driving here. He tries to relax by forcing his focus on the music.
Magic runs through my fingers-
One touch you'll see
Steve feels Eddie's hand gently touch the side of his face as if instructed by the singer, but then he pulls it away quickly. Steve breaks the rules, puts Eddie's hand back on his face, and pats it. Trying to let him know it's ok, but Eddie pulls away entirely. However, he keeps the distance minimal. The smile on his face is enormous, and Steve mirrors it.
Steve wants to let out a sigh so full of longing it might launch a million love songs from bridge to chorus. A lonesome howl. Instead, he does what he's supposed to. He keeps the beat and holds that friendly smile like that didn't just happen. Like that kiss wouldn't be embossed onto his lips whenever he hears a singer croon about unrequited love. His hand forever pressed against the window pane of a place he's not on the list for.
"See, easy. You did it, man. First kiss. Check. Done." Steve draws a tick in the air with his hand, but Eddie isn't looking. He might not even be listening. Instead, his eyes are still trained on Steve's mouth.
"Say, could I get a redo on that? I noticed something, and I wanna try something else," Eddie says excitedly, and Steve can hardly believe his luck. Praise whatever powerful being is allowing this to happen right now.
"Sure thing. It's your time. Anything I can help with?" Steve asks, trying not to sound too eager to please.
"Can you, um, how can I put it….can you kiss me back this time, so I know what that feels like?" Eddie asks, the grin on his face unmoving. A Roy Orbison 'Have Mercy' rings through his brain. For Steve, it might as well be Christmas right now, it's not everything he wants, but it's something, and to be honest, the universe has let him get away with a lot this evening.
L.O…V.E.
Keeping his cool and calm facade up, he replies, "Yeah, sure, I can do that. It's your rules, man. Your hands are fine, too, by the way. Sorry if I scared you. I was trying to let you know it was ok." He smiles more gently, and Eddie nods before turning around quickly to turn the music up even louder.
Steve notices that Eddie isn't shaking anymore, and that sweet innocent look in his eyes appears to have disappeared entirely. It feels ridiculous to even think, but if he was going to label how Eddie looks right now, he'd use the word ravenous. The backdrop of the guitar screaming out of the speakers only makes Steve's pulse race faster. Even Eddie's posture is straighter. He’s standing a little taller. His eyes don't move from Steve's mouth until he's swaggered back to where he was, their noses an inch or so apart; his eyes flick up to Steve's, and he actually winks at him, but before Steve can process what all these changes mean or where they've come from, their mouths connect again, and he is literally manhandled.
Eddie's hands yank Steve's arms around him, leaning his back against them like he wants Steve to touch him. Meanwhile, Eddie's hands are taking a whistlestop tour of Steve. Pushing and feeling over his torso and arms as they make their way up to his neck and into his hair, Eddie eases Steve's mouth open with his own, tugging gently on his bottom lip.
The message center in Steve's brain is in two distinct factions right now: Team 'What the hell is happening?' and Team 'Hell yeah, let's fucking go!". Only then does he remember he should be doing something other than letting Eddie paw over him and try to engulf him entirely.
Steve kisses Eddie back, licks into his mouth with all the hunger he'd been restraining, and lets his hand smooth up Eddie's t-shirt. The feeling of his body through the fabric would be unforgettable. Steve's hands are the steady grounding bass groove to Eddie's hurried electrifying lead. He is in the throes of it now, so it's really not his fault that when he feels Eddie tug on his hair slightly, he instinctively roughly pulls Eddie closer, pressing them together. The force of which pushes a grunt from Eddie, making a bolt of lightning shoot straight into the pit of his stomach.
This is the Eddie he'd been fantasizing about, powerful, rough, brain-frazzling, just like the guitar riffs he'd been listening to that night. Who knew it was lying in wait behind one little kiss? Maybe Steve wasn't such an awful judge of character after all. He isn’t sure what is going to happen after this. Perhaps they'll be so embarrassed they'll never talk to one another again, but the lines have been crossed now. So as far as Steve is concerned, he is going to sprint into this tryst until Eddie close-lines him to the floor by simply telling him 'No' or 'Stop'.
The loud music in his ears, and the sweet melody Eddie is playing with his body, makes Steve flip the bird at the angel complaining on his shoulder as he moves one of his hands to grip Eddie's lithe waist, thumbing into the flesh with the safety barrier of the material between. The other moves all the way north to get lost in that wild mane between his fingers as he grips into it lightly, doesn't pull, just wants to feel around in there, and it is glorious. He feels Eddie's tongue retract from the wrestling match it had been having with his own, his lips smile against him before he tugs hard on Steve's hair, tipping his head backwards with force, making him emit a noise he hadn't ever heard himself produce before, inspired by a place somewhere between pleasure and pain.
Both panting for air, Steve, though in an awkward position, decides to make light of the situation. He doesn't want Eddie to stop and figures humor will let him know everything is still good. "Not bad for a second kiss, Munson."
"Careful, Harrington. You wouldn't want anyone to think you're having a good time here, innocently helping out your new buddy, right?" Eddie's sultry smile descends into a smirk as he licks a fat stripe from the base of Steve's throat all the way up to his chin, along his jawline until he's dragging his teeth over his ear, and now Steve's eyes do roll back into his skull, his eyelids flutter shut, as he feels his blood thunder south. Steve decides that the town is wrong, Eddie doesn't worship the devil. The level of temptation and amount of sinful thoughts surging through Steve right now might mean that he is in the hands of Apollyon himself. Relief sweeps over him as Eddie finally pushes him into a wall, glad for something to help keep him standing.
He worries about the potentially embarrassing firmness rapidly developing below his belt, and a good Steve, a wise Steve, would tell Eddie to ease up, but those Steves are out to lunch. The only Steve remaining is munching on popcorn, yelling more, more, more, and switching every sign to green. "Jesus Christ, Eddie," is all he manages breathlessly.
Eddie's hand is still firmly holding Steve's head back as his other hand caresses his face and starts to move achingly slowly down his neck and chest as Eddie rasps in his ear, "You know, Harrington, you really should learn to ask more open questions." He must see the look of confusion on Steve's face because he laughs deeply, and it vibrates through Steve's body, not helping his current predicament in any way.
Another tug on his hair, and the hand on his chest moves lower still. Eddie's fingers trace gently along the outlines of his muscles through his sweatshirt. It's only then Steve realizes his own hands have turned limp against Eddie. He forces his eyes to look to the side to finally meet Eddie's in the darkness, waiting for answers that aren't emerging. Steve dips the fingers of the hand on Eddie's waist, along the waistband of his jeans, and he runs them around it gently until he finds a belt loop to hook a finger into and pulls Eddie against him again. A gasp and groan swim into Steve's ear. At the same time, he feels Eddie's stiffness against his hip. Steve bites down so hard on his own lip he's sure it might draw blood. "What do you mean?" He manages when the ability to think and speak finally returns.
Eddie deeply chuckles again before slowly, rhythmically thrusting his hips against Steve, causing a harmony of noises from them both. "Mmm, we sound good together, don't we?" Eddie purrs as his eyes trail over his face. The rough denim shifts the fabric of his trousers over his leg. The outside has the firm pressure from Eddie, but it's when the material gently brushes up and down the inside of his thigh that is really causing a cerebral malfunction. Steve should stop him. This is too far, too telling, he's exposed what he is, letting him get away with it, but if he does, this might never happen again, and he wants this so badly. Everything about this guy is musical. His tempo and basal noises are like sinful arias that Steve wants on repeat, his fingertips moving over him, conducting Steve's body to do exactly whatever he wants. Eddie ceases his pelvic onslaught. "I have a confession," he mutters gently as his fingers move to the lines where Steve's abdomen meets his hips, making Steve's usually very comfortable slacks feel like his worst enemy. "You see, I kinda didn't lie, but I didn't tell you the whole truth either."
On instinct, Steve's fingers have been working away at freeing Eddie from his clothes. This is usually where a girl might bat his hand away, or if he was lucky, they'd help him out by removing it themselves. Eddie doesn't do that. He keeps his eyes on Steve and does nothing to stop or aid him. He simply allows it. With the freedom he's clearly been bestowed, Steve isn't sure why he doesn't immediately relieve Eddie of his clothes. Instead, it makes him untuck Eddie's band tee much more slowly than he actually wants to, like carefully unwrapping a gift. But as Eddie stops talking, he stops untucking. A smile ticks at the corner of Steve's mouth like he's playing a little game. Eddie pushes him lower slightly, so he can look down into his eyes as he tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. It's a spinning coin of who has the power here, and Steve didn't realize until right now how soul-stirring that could be.
"We were talking about girls, right?" Eddie continues, a subtle tremble appearing in his voice, and Steve teases some of the fabric free as he speaks, his finger accidentally ghosting over the skin underneath. Eddie's words cease. Steve stills his fingers and watches him crumble slightly. Eddie whines and bites his lip, nodding, before taking a deep breath. "And everything I said about girls was one hundred percent true. I'd never outright lie to you. It was just a simple twisting to just see if…." Steve continues around his waistband until he realizes Eddie is repeating himself, and he starts tucking the t-shirt back in and moves his hand away. "No-no-no," Eddie says much more quickly, dropping out of his deep sultry tone to something Steve is more used to hearing, and he pouts.
"That's cheating," Steve smiles up at him.
"Sorry, sorry," Eddie apologizes and takes Steve's hand, placing it back where it was. "Please."
"Then confess," he says sternly, making Eddie wet his lips with his tongue.
"I hadn't kissed a girl. I tried. I like girls. I dated a bunch." Eddie's storytelling trait leaves the building, as all he is left with are short sentences, his eyes looking for Steve's hand teasing the material until the shirt is entirely free. He swallows thickly before he speaks again, "And I did give up after I chickened out a few times. That was all true." Steve's hand slithers under the soft cotton fabric of Eddie's T-shirt, and as his fingertips touch Eddie's stomach, his head flies back, and Steve can see his Adam's apple bobbing away, as he unleashes a string of whispered curse words into the air; his chest heaves up and down, and his grip almost pulsing in Steve's hair. He stays perfectly still, waiting for Eddie to return from wherever his brain and Steve's touch just sent him. Lets his hand linger, hoping it weaves a white-hot print into his skin forever. Hopes the place is accidentally brushed over one day, and this moment swamps his brain like the sweetest refrain.
'Cos bad boys they do
After a few seconds, his head lowers again, looking intensely into Steve's eyes, and he can feel the smooth abdomen and rise and fall against his palm. Other than the subtle movements of their bodies, they are caught in a stalemate. Without breaking their shared lustful stare save for an occasional blink, Steve flexes his trembling fingers lightly so the tips of them brush featherlight against Eddie’s softer-than-expected skin, and Eddie’s eyelids flicker for a moment. “So if that was all true, what was the lie?” Steve asks softly as his fingers graze over small patches of his torso, making minute circles that he is unsure about dealing out. Steve had felt a sizable number of bodies before, but this one is hot as a volcano and potentially just as volatile with one incorrect shifting of the fault-riddled ground they’d made together tonight. He has no idea what is too far here. Steve feels he is walking a high wire of intimacy. One wrong move and it could all be over. It all comes flooding into his mind at once how very little he knows about Eddie. How potentially dangerous this could be. What if Steve crosses a line, and it sets him off? Steve’s heart pounds in his chest, unsure of how to proceed.
With his head still tilted back in Eddie's hand, he looks down his nose and gingerly reaches out for Eddie's hand, wraps his fingers cautiously around his wrist, and to his relief, he lets him take it. He places it on his wrist, partially obscured by the T-shirt it hides under. Steve meets his eyes again, and Eddie’s hand chases after Steve’s under his shirt. He looks down at Eddie’s chest, can make out the bumps of his knuckles through the cotton, and spreads his fingers slightly so they disappear, and Eddie’s digits fall into the spaces between his own. A slight glint of a smile twitches at the corner of Eddie’s mouth as he tightens his grip and moves Steve’s hand over his body with a gulp, watching Steve like a hawk, and for a moment, he thinks maybe Eddie is just as scared of him. He moves their hands slowly to his chest, and his eyes close as he licks his lips. His chest is rising and falling much more profoundly and hurriedly now. He smooths their loosely joined hands slowly down him to his side, over the ripple of his ribs under Steve's fingertips. Eddie observes Steve the whole time, and the tension is eating away at him, so he pushes. “You didn’t answer. What was the lie?” Steve asks again.
Eddie's hand leaves him, and his skin misses the red-hot heat of his palm already. It shoots out to the side of Steve's head against the wall, and Eddie slowly bends his elbow to lean his face back into Steve’s space. Steve tries his absolute best to stay calm, but his heart thunders in his chest, and his eyes flicker back down to Eddie’s mouth. He feels a deep ache—one more kiss. One more, and then he’ll stop.
Eddie’s smile grows to a wicked thing above him as he studies Steve’s face. "The lie? No, Steve. Not a lie, just not the whole truth. I’ve never kissed a girl, and I do like them. But I also like guys.” Steve’s eyes must betray him entirely with surprise because Eddie’s grin widens, ”And I kissed a whole bunch of them a whole lotta times," he manages before adding to that total by kissing Steve ferociously, clashing them together almost painfully and pulling away roughly, "and you can't really blame me when the hottest guy in the universe offered me a kiss for nothing. Out of the goodness of his precious, kind heart." Eddie’s eyes drop lower, and soon he’s gone from where Steve can see. The next thing he feels is his soft wet lips mouthing over Steve's throat. The quick switch to gentleness has him finally releasing his hair and cupping the back of his neck. "You forgive me, right, sweetheart?" He speaks it into his skin, and he’s right. He does, but he can’t currently articulate the words to do so. Steve is pleasantly surprised that Eddie duped him. That means that Eddie wanted him, too, right? Maybe not in the same way, but in some way. A smile breaks on Steve's face as he lets the wave of pleasure crash over him as frequently and as heavily as they like.
Make the grade.
He adds ‘Phenomenal Actor’ to his Eddie assessment list.
Steve laughs, making Eddie stop, but Steve doesn't have time to reassure him. The danger is gone, but it is no less exhilarating. He finally uses his strength to push off the wall and trade places. Eddie looks confused, maybe even a little scared, until he scans over Steve’s face centimeters from his own, smiling broadly, laughing in between pants for breath. As Steve pushes off him and removes his blazer and sweatshirt, Eddie no longer seems so worried.
"What did I do to deserve all this?" His eyes rake over every newly exposed inch of Steve, which feels like the most glorious thing in the world. Eddie wants him. It is looping over in his brain like a scratched record.
They're gonna drive me crazy yet.
"Well, let's see, you told the truth." Steve pushes his hardness into Eddie's thigh, and the relief from that tiny bit of contact is almost enough to make Steve collapse onto Eddie, but now he knows they had both been misleading one another a little, and he wants to play up to it.
"I did, I really did. I was so good for that, wasn't I?" Eddie agrees enthusiastically, his eyebrows pushing together as he looks from Steve's face to the friction between them as Eddie slides against him again, and Steve almost short circuits.
Prior to right now, Steve's general part in this kind of dynamic was mostly being grateful. Grateful for a girl, to let him touch her in any way. Even with Tommy, it was almost like a mutual science experiment, but Steve has found two new things he was into in the few short minutes of whatever this was developing between him and Eddie, so he pokes at one.
"But you also made me aware that someone as good at acting as you cannot be trusted." Steve rolls his hips away from Eddie, leaving him shaking his head quickly in a sort of panic, and watching Eddie crave him like this was sending undulating shockwaves throughout himself. Sure, he's been the subject of coy glances, big eyes full of affection, maybe something close to love, but to be desired so desperately is not something he is accustomed to. It prickles at his nerve endings until his whole body feels so sensitive, like the merest hint of a breeze against it could send him crashing back into Eddie for more.
"It wasn't all acting, I swear. I was nervous about kissing you, but for different reasons than I said," Eddie babbles. His fingers dig into Steve's forearms as he grasps for them. Make that three. Usually, when he was gripped this way, it was by the soft pads at the ends of dainty fingers, maybe even the light scratches of perfectly manicured fingernails. Eddie's fingers aren’t like that. The tips are covered mostly in calluses from playing the guitar, and the roughness of his palms is probably from working with his hands. Steve suspects it's perhaps his van. Immediately jealous that it might be from all the rough surfaces Eddie has pushed other guys up against. He shuts his eyes momentarily as the textures graze across his arms, and his brain takes him to a sweltering hot day, Eddie leaning into the engine of his van, sweat dripping from him, covered in streaks of engine oil or grease, and it is doing Steve no favors in his attempt to calm down. He listens to the music around them for a reprieve, but it doesn't come. The singer only urges him on. He wonders if Eddie selected this album intentionally. If it was part of his plan all along, to bewitch Steve with a wicked potion of himself and the suggestive lyrics in the air.
That smokin' powder keg you're riding on is hell-bound
Steve rushes him, throwing a forearm over his head and leaning his whole weight against it on the wall so he looms over Eddie, breathing hard but keeping a distance between their bodies, hoping to create a chasm between them that they’d fill with the desire behind their eyes. He carefully leans in and speaks his words into Eddie's slightly parted mouth. "Would you have forgiven me if our roles had been reversed? If I had tricked you tonight?" His eyes rise sleepily from Eddie's lips to his hooded eyes, and a shuddering breath escapes the man under him, and Steve's stomach flips.
"Yeah. Yes. A million times, yes. I'd forgive you." Eddie looks like he's in pain as his words drip with yearning. Steve smiles down at him, and he can see the wave of realization move gradually across Eddie's face, "You tricked me?" He says slowly in an unbelieving whisper. His big eyes look up at Steve so innocently for a moment that it makes him positively growl into Eddie's neck because this is fucking sensational. He knows at any point he could throw up his hands, and Eddie would take the reins, or he could continue to overpower him, dominate him like this. He honestly can’t read what Eddie prefers, but he also had no idea what he liked better, either. It all feels good, maybe a little too good.
At the altar of rock 'n' roll you'll kneel.
"It wasn't a trick, exactly. It was more a bending of the truth and then a little pushing my luck," Steve says quietly as he mouths down his neck, his tongue tasting the sharpness of cheap cologne that Steve wouldn't have replaced by anything more expensive. It is perfection. He latches on when he reaches the base of his throat, hoping to leave Eddie with a memory of this evening, a warning to anyone else that sees it, at least for a few days, making Eddie hiss a breath between his teeth. Increasing the pressure as the guitar desperately wails in the sweet syrupy air around them. At first, he thinks he might have been too rough and hurt him until Eddie's hands guide his head back for more. "You like that?" Steve asks for the first time.
"I'd like it better if the rest of you wasn't so far away," Eddie half-complains.
"Yeah, well, I'm not sure you deserve it after being so deceptive." Steve laughs, taking his throat between his teeth again and sucking down. He dares to glance up at Eddie's expression and regrets it immediately because he looks like absolute sin, his head thrown back against the wall, sweat sticking his hair to his face, his kiss-swollen mouth hanging open like it's desperately waiting for something obscene to fill it. Though he can't see them in the dim light, he bets those coral pink triangles of blush are adorning his face right now.
Hellion! The devil's Hellion child
"You're not really selling the whole telling you the truth thing, you know?" Eddie catches him staring up at him and grins until he's cut off by Steve bursting another bunch of his blood vessels to decorate his pretty neck. Then he's catching his breath, gasping, and sighing into the air above them as his eyes slide closed.
"Yeah, but imagine how much more you could have right now if you'd been good," Steve says as he releases and towers over him again, and Eddie lets him, despite them being roughly the same height. A mischievous grin spreads across Eddie’s face as his hips rut forward and grind against him again, almost taunting him. It feels so sinfully good. Steve almost whimpers but presses his lips together just in time. He looks at Eddie, who is already watching him, with a slightly arched eyebrow. As their eyes lock, he does it once more. His brow knits, and his mouth drops open a little. Steve recognises it as almost too much. A moan rolls out of him in the silence between songs, and Steve can't resist that open invitation to capture it. But the next song seeps into his ears, slower, gentler, and Steve lets the music puppet him. He reaches out to cup Eddie's jaw, thumbing at his cheek where he can feel those little patches of heat hiding in the darkness. The music slows his touch and breathing. He lets his eyes search Eddie's for the keys to unlock what he's holding back. Eddie releases a sigh.
Click.
Look, look in the candlelight.
Completely lost in the moment, he finally lets his mind take him and Eddie somewhere else entirely. Suspended in a dark nothingness, only one another's highlights revealed by the faintest light until flames burst from the floor to lick at their bodies. He claims Eddie's mouth with his own and tastes him again, consuming his sounds of pleasure like it was the ambrosia of the gods. He mentally adds to his Eddie assessment.
Exceedingly good at reading me.
As Steve draws back again, just to escape how good Eddie feels, before this ends too soon for his liking, Eddie says, "Come on, Steve. If I'd been really good and told no lies, neither of us would have much of anything right now." His hands move over Steve's body as smoothly as his voice fills his ears until they find their way around his waist, splay out against his back and pull him in closer again. "So maybe, don't think about it too much. Maybe call it even and don't think about anything at all." Eddie's hands move lower, grazing the small of his back, gliding into and over the dimples there, until his fingertips are playing with the back of his waistband, and he slightly dips them inside of it. He raises his eyes to Steve's and holds his gaze through his eyelashes, and Steve realizes he's silently asking for permission.
And cry out the name of which I yearn.
Eddie doesn't know, but this is the furthest he's ever gone with a guy. He and Tommy had a few make-out sessions. There had been some moments where other parts of their bodies had brushed against one another, but primarily accidental, not purposeful like this. Not urgent wanting like this. It was the hands above the belt rule that kept it safe, that kept it in a forgivable friendly experiment zone. Even if they'd ended up visibly aroused by anything, they'd laugh it off, slap one another on the back, and find a bathroom each, as far apart as possible. This is not like that. He desperately wants to cross that line, specifically with Eddie, but the icy fear is steadily creeping its way past Eddie's flaming hot hands and up his spine. If he stepped over that line, there were no excuses then. It's only when Eddie speaks again he realizes he's frozen. "Steve? Hey, you ok?" Eddie's fingertips immediately retreat to the outside of the waistband of Steve's slacks.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, I'm good," Steve says confidently, even laughing for good measure, but inside, he is terrified. He surges forward to kiss Eddie again, who accepts, but Steve notices it's much more like their first one. Soft, slow, gentle. He feels the firm pressure of Eddie's arms surrounding him, and it's a sorely needed comfort to slow down the insanity that is going on within him right now. Eddie's eyes scan his face. "Is that as far as you got?" He asks, and there is that kindness in his voice again. He's changed back to the guy that cared enough to be there tonight for Steve, with absolutely no idea there was anything in it for him at all. Steve swallows nervously and nods, looking down to the floor, a little embarrassed that his fear had suddenly surpassed his enthusiasm. He doesn't understand why Eddie isn't upset right now, why he isn't pushing him away, calling him a cocktease, or something worse. Sure Steve had never in his life treated anyone like that, no matter where they paused or stopped proceedings, but from what the girls revealed to him as he'd hold them in his arms, reassuring them it didn't matter, it wasn't a big deal, most guys got pissed about it. He was an exception.
"Steve. It's ok." His arms tighten around him, and one hand starts rubbing a soothing circle on his back as he stands to his full height again. 'Look at me. Please"
Steve quickly glances at him and looks away just as rapidly. "Can you try to look at me for a bit longer, please? I know it's difficult on account of how hideous you find me." The smile in his tone is evident, and Steve dares to look again. "There you are," Eddie says with a huge smile, and Steve offers him a weak one back. "Remember earlier, we were talking about Eddie's rules?" He brings a hand to touch the side of Steve's face, carefully moving a few strands of hair away from his eyes. Steve can't bring himself to say anything. He looks down again and feels stupid. Eddie catches his chin on the crook of his index finger and tilts his head back up. "Well, number one on the list of Eddie's Rules is all parties have to be into what's happening at all times. Understand? Because if you're not into it, I'm not into it, ok? That's how it works for me. I'm not being a martyr here," he smiles and looks down where they are still pressed together. "When I know someone's having a good time with me because of me, that's my thing. That's what gets me off." Eddie pretends to be deep in thought as he looks back up. "Well, that and a hundred other things probably, but that's definitely my favorite and most important." He lets out a soft laugh that makes the tension boiling in Steve rest to a simmer.
Steve casts his eyes down to the collar of Eddie's t-shirt, rolls it between his fingers and sighs, "Sorry. I know it must seem like a weird line to have, considering everything else we’ve been doing. You must be disappointed," Steve says regretfully, and Eddie laughs so loudly, making Steve’s eyes snap to him in alarm.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea where I've been for the past I don't fucking know minutes? I'm day-slash-night walking in fantasy, Steve. You have no idea how many times I thought about this. How many different ways. I never. Hand on heart. Never thought it would happen. And believe me when I say I thought I had a fantastic imagination, being a storyteller, a musician, and a dreamer, but nothing I came up with was anywhere close to how amazing this is. Seriously." His hand cups Steve's jaw, and his thumb runs across his cheekbone. "So no, sweetheart, I'm not disappointed. I am a man, light years away from the town of disappointment, ok?"
Steve smiles but rolls his eyes with his patented half-smile. Eddie looks and sounds genuine, but he can't help but feel maybe he'd wanted or expected more.
"I know what you're thinking, Steve. I think I rammed my tongue so far down your throat I tasted your innermost thoughts, so I'll be one hundred percent honest with you. I would be lying if I said I didn't want more. But I always want more. It's who I am. I'm greedy for attention, affection and, right now, you. I am. I'll hold my hands up to that. But I am not disappointed. So you've got nothing to apologize for except being so damn delectable. And maybe don't even be sorry for that because-" Steve cuts him off with a kiss that sets off a box of exhibition-sized fireworks inside of Steve, an orchestral crescendo that runs in ripples over his skin. Fuck, he likes this guy so much more than he thought he did or could.
"You know, I can talk more if that's how you'll keep me quiet the rest of the night?" Eddie smiles as he blinks back into the present.
"You know I'm in one too?" Steve says quietly, brushing the sweat-dampened hair from Eddie's face.
"Huh? In one? One what?" Eddie looks completely bamboozled.
Steve chuckles, making Eddie's face light up. "I mean, I'm in a fantasy too."
"Fuck off!" Eddie exclaims so loudly in shock it makes Steve lean back. "You are not!" Steve nods, and Eddie's mouth is wide open in excited surprise as he gestures to himself. "Me? Really?"
"Yeah," Steve says softly, draping his arms around Eddie's neck.
"You have no idea the inner turmoil I'm in right now. Like, I know, I can't tell anyone about this, and I won't, but if I could, shit, the fucking urge to rub this in all their stupid faces is strong. Steve Harrington was fantasizing about lil' ol' me." He flutters his eyelashes. "Feed my ego, Steve. Tell me everything, please."
"Ah, no. That's private," Steve says, frowning a little.
"Ok, ok. At least tell me for how long?" Eddie asks, his arms around Steve, shaking him left to right with excitement, and Steve sighs.
"Since yesterday." And almost immediately, Eddie pouts his downturned lips as his shoulders sink.
"Damn, you don't mess around, do ya?" Eddie replies with a lot less excitement.
"Ok, so you definitely seem disappointed now," Steve remarks.
"Yeah, that's because I am." Eddie pouts again, and Steve is amusedly taken aback by his honesty. At least this reaction confirmed he was telling the truth moments ago.
"Why? Like, why be disappointed about this and not me ruining everything," Steve asks curiously.
"Ok, stop. You ruined nothing. This is different. I just learned you'd been thinking about me, and I guess I imagined it would have been for longer than a day, Steve. What? No pining? No finding out when I'm on shift so you can watch my fine ass walk by? No, Eddie daydreams out of the window. Just one day? How? How is that possible? What did I do yesterday that I didn't do any other of the days we've known one another? I look the same. I act the same. Is it? Is it because you think I'm turning over a new leaf with a legitimate job? Because you should know I'm not." Eddie lets the words leave him like rapid fire as he puzzles through the situation, "Is it name tags? ‘Cus I can get my hands on as many name tags as you want. Oh, wait, is it because I asked for your help? Like a good Samaritan kink or something because, again, my teachers will tell ya I need all the help I can get."
"It's because yesterday I knew, well, I hoped you were like me," Steve answers.
"Oh, the liking guys thing?" Eddie guesses, and Steve shakes his head in a no, and Eddie wrinkles up his nose adorably.
"Music. You talk out loud about music, the way I feel inside about music. In the record store, the way you described the Hendrix album felt different from when you were assessing the others, and earlier tonight, the way you talked about this one," Steve gestures to the air to indicate the music still playing, "and then you knew what I was talking about when I talked about those sensations. And I thought maybe you'd get me. And then I remembered you were in a band, and I thought how amazing that must feel, to play these things and feel like I feel when I only listen to them. Then I couldn't stop thinking about how you might look, getting totally lost in it." Steve takes a breath, realizing how amped up he is talking about this, staring intensely into Eddie's eyes. He's suddenly aware he's talking louder, excitedly, his hands around the back of Eddie's neck, twisting his fingers into Eddie's hair. "Sorry." He says with an awkward laugh and dials it down a few notches back to normal Steve levels.
Eddie says nothing, only gazes back at him, a soft, thoughtful look on his face, blinking a few times before he says, "Don't stop on my account." And right there in a dimly lit room, W.A.S.P still playing loudly in the background, half-dressed, his hair wildly disheveled, Steve Harrington falls for Eddie Munson.
Shit. This is bad. Fooling around, secret crushes and fantasies were one thing, but this? This is something else entirely. Dangerous even. But Steve knows. He emphatically knows the difference between something purely physical, something lustfully wanton, and this. This spins his head like a record, his stomach turns cartwheels, and his heart isn't pounding quickly like the hooves of galloping wild horses anymore. It's thudding. A resounding, steady thud. A bluesy John Lee Hooker boom, boom, boom, boom.
"Really?" Steve asks carefully.
"Do you know the level of nerd you have in your arms right now? I mean, I'm a pretty, foxy one at least, but yeah, really, Music was the first thing I remember being completely obsessed with." Eddie smiles. "I had no idea until we were by your pool that music wasn't anything but background noise to you or something to dance with girls to. All I knew about you was you liked sports, were rich, a little bit of a bitch, and so goddamn pretty. I would happily talk about and listen to you talk about music for hours."
Steve wants to ask, but he just stares. He doesn't want to scare Eddie away, but he wants to know if this is just tonight, some fun between friends, or if…if there could be a tomorrow, or next week, or month, or year, or fucking forever.
"Wanna share with the class?" Eddie says, with a sweet encouraging smile.
"Well, two things, one for you and one for me," Steve says. "Which first?"
"Oh, definitely you first, sweetheart," Eddie drawls, and Steve desperately tries to focus on his words and not any hidden meanings that his body is trying to convince him of right now.
"So, I was wondering, and it's absolutely fine if not, but do you maybe wanna hang out again tomorrow or another night this week?" Steve asks, using his confident mask.
"Like we have tonight?" Eddie asks slowly.
"Yeah, or just-" Steve tries to answer.
"Stop right there." Eddie presses a finger to Steve's still-speaking lips. " Yes! Absolutely yes, Steve. Yes. It's a yes. Big fat, yes. Thank you very much," Eddie answers firmly without hesitation, before a colossal grin breaks across his face, and then he suddenly looks puzzled. "Wait, that was for you? What in the world do you have for me?" But Steve has stalled now. He's still processing how eagerly Eddie agreed, and he's very aware of his own breathing and the pulse in his ears until he's snapped out of it by a ringed hand waving in his face.
"Earth to Steve. Helloooo?" Eddie tries, and Steve tries to remember what he was talking about before he started plotting out their future together.
"So, for you, yes, erm, ok, so kinda embarrassing, but I thought you might like to know that whilst I only fantasized about you for one day, it was…." Steve licks his lips and blinks like he can't believe he's going to say this out loud, but he wants Eddie not to be disappointed. He looks into Eddie's expectant eyes in the darkness. "It was, um…intense and um…vigorous." Steve sees his eyes go a new level of wide before he looks impressed with himself.
"Oh-ho-ho, really? Now that does make me feel a little better." Even in the low light, his huge toothy grin is beaming at Steve. "You know I can run out to the van any time you like, grab that guitar and happily give you your own private concert."
"You would?" Steve asks dreamily as he thinks about that image momentarily and slides closer to Eddie until their silhouettes merge into one against the wall.
"Oh yeah, with fucking bells on." Eddie grins, his eyes dropping to Steve's mouth again, then looking him up and down. "Is this you indicating you might wanna rewind and within the lines have a little more fun now?"
"Yeah," Steve breathes against his lips. "That ok?"
"That ok?" Eddie playfully mimics and laughs. "Yes, of course, gorgeous. Absolutely ok! Maybe, as I'm staying over anyway, we can do the same tomorrow too?" Eddie says, walking Steve backwards to the couch, his eyes lazily looking over Steve's face as he guides him to sit and lowers him down, cradling the back of his head gently to lie back. "Ok, like this?" He asks as he shuffles into his lap. Steve nods happily and wraps his arms around Eddie's waist.
"Who knows, maybe tomorrow won't be the same? Maybe a sweet, handsome, nerdy guy can help me get a little further tomorrow? Because with him, I'd really like to eventually. You know, do more," Steve says positively; though he can feel the heat rise up his face, he is smiling up at Eddie as he leans in close and presses a kiss to his lips before sitting back and taking off his t-shirt. Eddie pauses like he's allowing him the time to look over him. Steve makes a mental note of all the places he's going to explore later, all the ink buried in Eddie's skin he's going to get intimately acquainted with every minuscule detail of, maybe even leave his signature next to them, so Steve can be buried under Eddie's skin there right along with them.
"From what I know of that guy, he will be more than eager to assist, but he's also not in any kind of rush. He'll be beside himself that he got so fucking lucky to get his lips on the second hottest music nerd in town." And before Steve can laugh and reach up to playfully push him off, Eddie leans down against his hand to kiss him longingly, his untamed hair draping around them both like the softest black-out curtains against the outside world, their sounds intertwine harmoniously once more as they breathe one another in and out.
Symbiotic. Just like Eddie said.
Whilst their song sends Steve's imagination into the serenity of outer space, his fingertips of the hand wedged between them moves over Eddie's skin, across to the center of his chest, until they find what Steve's been after for so long.
A beat that wholeheartedly moves him.
#steddiebang23#steddie big bang#steddie big band 2023#steddie fic#steddie fan fiction#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steddie fan art#steddie fanart#steddie fluff#steddiebang23 masterposts
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jealous trent stages :
pissed > sad > confesses > clingy bf
he knows it’s rude to stare and is fully aware that he’s doing so blatantly, completely disregarding all that is being uttered in his ear by his teammate. His eyes and mind were laser trained on you posted up by the bar. Trent can’t help but note how stunning you look, especially now with the look of pure irritation evident on your face. To your left stood a man—taller than Trent and objectively good looking— attempting to chat you up.
Why haven’t you made a move to doge his advances, he thinks, his doe eyes boring into you and the bloke beside you. The thought lingers, making his palm tingle and the crease in his forehead to deepen. He trying to work on that—being possessive and disgustingly jealous. You were a person, not property; he did not own yoh. he also respected you and believed that you were firm enough to handle yourself.
But figuratively, you were his so the sight before him leaves him with a clenching jaw. He wants nothing more than to step in between the two of you, sweep you off your heels, and shove his tongue down your throat in hopes of sending that clueless moron a clear message. But he garners some restraint and instead decides to sulk.
By the time the two of you make it home, Trent is still sulking, the cutest pout playing at his plump lips. Considering you just had to deal with a man who simply would not take no from an answer, you were listless and in no way willing to reward petty antics.
“When you’re ready to communicate like an adult, let me know.” You’ll state simply before going to the bathroom and starting on your nightly routine. It isn’t long before a pouty Trent is standing behind you, like a puppy, twiddling his thumbs.
“I saw you with that guy.” He’ll start, looking you through his lashes in a way that resembles a child in trouble. The look forces your annoyance to dissipate. “that better not be why you’re acting all bratty, Mr. Alexander-Arnold. Even if I was single, he could never.” Trent pushes out another gust of air past his lips, his cheeks tinting slightly. This is why he wanted to keep quiet, he knew how silly his jealousy was. He presses his chest into your back, snaking a lazy arm around your torso. instinctively, you lean into him.
“yeah…I know. what’s the science behind my stomach hurting every time I see a man talking to you?” Trent manages to press you further into his chest, the smell of his aftershave enveloping and comforting you instantly. He goes to brush your hair off the nape of your neck, exposing the skin before immediately going to decorate the space with kisses.
“no science; you’re just down atrociously bad.” you’ll retort.
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Chag Sameach // Jewish!Batmom!Reader & family
Requested? Yes!
Warnings: a lot of mentions of food, I know that can be difficult around the holiday season
Summary: A blended family of faith comes together to celebrate the holiday season through Damian’s eyes
A/N: I’m not Jewish so please let me know if I messed anything up!! Happy Hanukkah my lovelies :) Bruce is canonically Jewish, Dick and Duke are in my mind Jewish, Jason IMO was raised Catholic, Tim is totally raised atheist as is Cass, Alfred is Anglican, and Steph was raised culturally Christian. She’s just here for the sweets.
Everyone was acting differently.
Todd wasn’t arguing with Father and instead, Damian passed him earlier in the kitchen where the crime lord had a “Kiss the Cook” apron on and was bent over a tray on the counter, piping bag clutched tightly in hand. Perhaps he was poisoning Drake…
Pennyworth was flitting between the kitchen and the main living room, glittering tinsel in hand that trailed after him along the carpet. Drake was somewhere with Thomas, both of them looking intently at their phones and whispering between each other. Brown and Cassandra were outside, that much he knew, doing who knows what.
Damian found Richard in the main hall balancing a tray in both hands with a large smile on his face. He lit up when he saw Damian and gestured with his head to follow him. Thus, the culprit of everyone’s strangely amicable behavior was located.
You.
Father’s wife.
The woman who clearly wasn’t suited to be the matriarch of the Wayne name. Not like his mother. You were not a warrior. In fact, Damian believed you to be completely helpless. Yet Father seemed taken by you and one of the stipulations about living here was that Damian must respect you. Even Richard was firm in that rule.
You stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as Father maneuvered a large pine tree into one of the corners of the room. You called out directions until Father stuck his head out from around the tree and leveled you with a stare Damian had seen him use on Ivy and Quinn. You merely smirked and raised your hands in a thumbs up. Father moved out from behind the tree and nodded at Damian before taking one of the trays from Grayson.
You turned and lit up at the sight of Damian. Despite his coldness towards you, you had never once been unkind. It grated on his nerves. Surely, you had some kind of ulterior motive as to your deceitful kindness. He was determined to get to the bottom of this.
“Damian, good afternoon!” you greeted. “You’re just in time. The sun sets in thirty minutes so we’ll light the chanukiah and then decorate the tree.”
You paused, a conflicted look passing over your face and then you sighed. “Oh, Damian, I’m sorry. I never thought to ask if you celebrate either.”
“Either?” He was confused by all the decorations and trinkets scattered around the room. It looked like a glitter bomb had gone off, but Pennyworth didn’t look too frazzled at the mess. It was then that he saw the kippah on Father and Richard’s heads.
“Tonight is the first night of Hanukkah,” you explained. “When Jason first joined us…”
You trailed off, pain glinting in your eyes at the thought of a young Todd compared to the man he was now. Father joined your side and laid a hand on your shoulder. You offered him a small, shy smile and whispered out a thanks.
“Your father, Dick, and I are all Jewish so we always celebrated Hanukkah. When Jason joined us, we figured it wasn’t fair that he and Alfred didn’t get to celebrate Christmas with others so we decided to combine the two. Hanukkahmas. Christmakkah. So, the first night of lighting the chanukiah, we also decorate the Christmas tree. It’s silly, but it’s our tradition.”
Richard swooped in then, laying a kiss on his adoptive mother’s cheek. He then ruffled Damian’s hair despite his best efforts to get away.
“Don’t worry, little D, we’ll celebrate Ramadan too for you.”
You nodded eagerly. “Yes! And if there’s any specific foods you like to break the fast, please let me know. We’d love to have you join us tonight, Damian.”
Based on the excited grin on Richard’s face, Damian couldn’t refuse. He sighed but relented, allowing Richard to put a red and white fluffy hat on his head. The brim slipped over his eyes and he shoved it back with a disgruntled huff, but you were grinning at the sight of the two boys' antics.
Maybe this wouldn’t be a total disaster.
Damian was put to task stringing popcorn on a fishing line and fighting off the vultures known as his family as they swooped in to steal a few kernels here and there. Someone had dragged one of the larger tables usually used for galas into the room and platters of food appeared, filling up the surface until Damian could no longer see any wood.
“Hey, baby bird,” Brown greeted as she and Cassandra entered the room. Thomas trailed after the two, a kippah on his head too. Brown started to reach for one of the powdered desserts but you materialized out of seemingly thin air and swatted her hand away.
“Not until Bruce does the blessing, you little thief,” you warned, but there was no heat behind your words. Damian was always confused by the lack of punishment received for behavior here. At Nanda Parbat, misbehaving and denying orders was met with violence. Here, it was met with teasing words from you and a stern lecture if it was a serious discrepancy. You were weak, he thought, for not preparing them for the cruelties of this world like his grandfather had.
“Alright, last thing for the table,” Todd announced as he entered the room with a large dutch oven cradled between two potholders. You clapped your hands in excitement and moved some dishes aside so he could set it down in the center.
“This is brisket,” you explained to Damian, “but we have plenty of vegetarian options too. Hummus, noodle kugel, latkes…a lot of latkes. Christ on a bike, Jason, could you have made any more latkes? We also have sufganiyot, rugelach, kugel, sfenj, and some Christmas cookies already…and we’re having matzo ball soup on the eighth night. Vegetarian, of course.”
Todd sidled up next to you, his large frame towering over his adoptive mother. You rested a hand on his arm and squeezed, a silent thanks for assisting Alfred with all of the food. He dipped his chin in response and then hugged you. Damian watched as the older boy practically melted in your embrace, something he had never seen. Todd was always cold and harsh, holding himself in a way that meant he was on alert constantly.
“The sun has set,” Alfred announced. The rest of the family had piled into the room and they crowded around the silver chanukkiah that sat on one of the tables. Richard lit the middle candle as Bruce began to say the three blessings. You murmured the occasional Hebrew word in response to the prayer, but the family remained quiet as Bruce prayed and Dick lit the candle. Once the first candle was lit and Bruce ended the prayer, you clapped your hands together and shooed everyone towards the family.
“Eat, eat. Nosh a little. We’ll decorate the tree after presents.”
Damian was struck with panic for a second. Presents? Was he supposed to get anyone something? No one else appeared nervous. They were all focused on loading up their plates and scattering around the living room.
You didn’t head towards the food. Instead, Damian watched as you pulled a blanket off of a basket tucked next to the chair you usually sat in. The basket was overflowing with wrapped gifts and you picked a few out, depositing them in the lap of the respective person. Damian was surprised when you stopped in front of him and smiled, holding out a gift wrapped in paper that had animals printed all over it.
“Happy Hanukkah, Damian. I like to give everyone gifts for the eight nights. Something small. Don’t worry about getting us anything. It’s more of a thing I like to do.” Your words eased his stress. He cautiously tore at the paper and found a fresh sketchbook, pencils, and watercolors inside. You had already moved on to hand a gift to Alfred.
He ran his fingers along the smooth paper and smiled despite himself. Maybe you weren’t totally useless.
For seven more nights, the family gathered in the living room to play games, watch movies, and eat. Seriously, it was a shit ton of food. You flitted about the room all night, anxious to ensure everyone was enjoying themselves. The gifts you gave were perfect, but Damian would never admit that. In lieu of gelt, other than the chocolate coins that Drake and Richard were battling over currently, you had donated ten thousand dollars to a charity each person supported, including Damian’s favorite animal shelter in the city.
He didn’t understand it. He had been nothing but frigid to you since arriving at the Manor. Yet, you were still suffused with warmth that leaked out of you and showering him with kindness and gifts. So on the eighth night, while everyone else was focused on the epic dreidel battle between Cassandra and Todd, Damian slowly approached where you were seated on the couch, curled up against Father’s side.
“Hey, need something?” you asked. You were ready to spring off the couch and serve him, but Damian merely thrust a neatly wrapped box in your direction. Your lips parted in a soft, surprised gasp and you thanked him as you accepted the gift. Slowly and meticulously, you unwrapped the gift and opened the small box under the paper to find a beautiful handmade portrait of the whole family.
“Oh, Damian,” you whispered. “It’s amazing. This is the greatest gift anyone has ever given me.”
“Happy Hanukkah.”
You handed the box to Bruce and stood. “Is it alright if I hug you?”
He nodded stiffly, but relaxed minutely when your arms wrapped around him. Damian understood why Todd softened around you. How Father smiled and showed affection like it was second nature. Why Richard laughed freely and Thomas felt comfortable in the family and Brown gossiped to you about trivial things. He understood why Cassandra sought you out on the bad days and Drake curled up beside you when he needed to feel comforted and why Pennyworth took your orders without question.
You weren’t useless or helpless. Your strength, light, and warmth was the thing keeping the family together. Damian hugged you just a little tighter. Maybe he could ask you to accompany him to the animal shelter to oversee how the donations were being allocated. And then perhaps they could go to that one vegetarian restaurant Todd had told him about.
You weren’t his mother and he would always love his mother, but you were certainly a figure in his life that he didn’t mind being around.
#batfamily x reader#batmom imagine#batfamily imagine#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#damian wayne
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"poetic justice"
pairing: earth42!miles (aged up) x black!reader
cw: none? fluff. angst if u squint
blurb: fan fic based on Kendrick Lamar and Drakes, poetic justice.
a/n: i aged them up for the plot i also REFUSE to believe this song came out 10 years ago 😭
i used this for translation
and to translate in the story alls u gotta do is highlight the sentence and click translate you may or may not have to click the forward button.
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as you were securing the gold hoops in your ear, the doorbell rang, reaching back into your jewelry box you grabbed a couple rings to match, there was one that stood out more than the rest, it had a gold shank, with a simple loopy gallery, a head that stuck out far enough to hold the shiny diamond that went perfectly against your pretty brown skin. It was your promise ring your boyfriend had gotten you 9 months ago given that you two have been dating for 3 years.
Dating Miles was interesting to say the least, being with him gave you a little more power, a little more leverage. You were already pretty popular, living the pretty rich black girl lifestyle that everyone wanted, but it didn't mean that people always respected you resulting in you having to whooping a couple asses but when you and Miles started dating it was like no one ever tried you again.
To be honest it wasn't completely random it made sense, every time someone were to cross lines with Miles Morales they would come up missing, and not wanting to end up on a shirt people never fucked with him or you.
You quickly sprayed your Billie Eilish perfume on your pulse points before grabbing your purse and walking out your bedroom door, rushing downstairs you walk in on your dad and boyfriend sitting on the couch in the living room. there was a pearly white vase full of red Tulips resting on the coffee table that hadn't been there before. you spoke up interrupting the conversation that was being held between the two.
"sorry baby I was still getting ready" Miles stands as you walk over to him wrapping your arms around his neck as he brings you closer with his hands around your lower waist "naw you good" You let go, removing yourself off him but his right hand grabs the front of your shirt bringing it to his nose while his left hand remained on your waist.
"you smell good, isn't that the one-" you cut him off "-you said was gonna stink cause it was made by a white girl" he lets go of your shirt "Guess I was wrong huh?" you nod muttering a small 'mhm' before leaning in for a kiss
miles would never admit it but he found it confounding how he could always tell what exactly soap, perfume, lotion, ect you wear wearing, easily detecting your fragrance, especially if he bought.
your dad sarcastically lets out a cough (which means he wants y'all to back away from each other) and you walk over to the coffee table slightly bending over to look at the flowers in front of you. obviously the flowers were from miles but it's something about how each time he comes over he has a new fresh bouquet of them (sometimes two for your mom) that has you falling, if possible, deeper in love with him.
But you didn't let him know that. not now at least you wanted to endure the moment as long as you can and letting him think he surprises you whenever he tells you what they mean.
standing from the couch your father walks over to Miles holding out his hand "You keep her safe alright?" looking over at Miles you see him give a small smile as he dabs him up "Yes sir" (they def do that firm shake thingy)
________
"you know we not going to the park right?" miles asks as you were walking along the road "we not?" you look over to see him making an expression to say 'now you knew damn well' before letting out a small chuckle "Sé que tu gusto es un poco- alto mantenimiento"
which isn't completely a lie, yes you were humble enough that if it ever came down to being lower class you wouldn't be grossed out but it didn't mean that you wanted to be lower class, miles knew how your dad was given that uncle aaron has worked with him numerous of times.
your mom was a florist, she had her own little shop not to far from your house and it was also one of the most popular floral shops in your city. now you didn't know exactly what you're dad did for work but you did know that it was good enough to put food on the table, pall bills, all while still being able to buy you almost whatever you want. it was no surprise that you turned out to be a daddy's girl. when asked in press his reasoning for spoiling you his response was "so she won't be easy, if any boy wanna take my daughter out he has to really impress her." (which had miles stressing on your first date)
it was your mom who kept you deferential. doing simple things like giving you lectures every few weeks, taking away toys when you were in trouble, whooping your ass when you started crying out loud in the middle of the store because you couldn't get any candy, all of it payed off in the end because your parents was a perfect balance you ironically- got your classiness from your dad and your strength came from your mom.
As stated before uncle aaron had connections with your father you could even call him a family friend which is how you and miles met. this means he has an inside look on your childhood life you didn't necessarily like to open up about. miles wasn't stupid. he knew that you were still hurting, still grieving the lost of your sister a couple years ago, an overdosage right before you two were supposed to go out.
miles doesn't wanna press because he knows what it feels like.. to lose someone who you were very close with, and the fact that you were the one that found her, on the bathroom floor, empty pill bottle not far off, and unresponsive. it was absolutely heart wrenching. although he doesn't want to press he at least try's to bring her up every once in a while because he also knows how unhealthy you can get if you don't open up about. but to his luck the most you would do is smile before changing the subject.
your sisters death is what brung out the overprotectiveness in you. after dating for a while miles realized you were a very careful person, not being the little spoiled daddy's girl everyone thought you were. despite knowing a lot of people you only had a few friends you were very careful about who you hang around and the people you were close with were always complaining with your change of attitude and on how overprotective you were but miles knew.
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miles knew exactly why you acted the way you did. because he felt the same way. after loosing his dad he didn't know what to do, he quit eating, stopped opening up to his mother, even becoming an insomniac being afraid that when he woke up, everyone would be gone.
but that's when you came in, like a gaurdiam angel coming to save him and out him out of his misery, uncle aaron introduced the two of you in when you were still in middle school, the location being on of your father big events. he had decided to bring miles to take his mind off of things and to get him out of the house. miles immediately hit it off with you, and by the end of the event your numbers were exchanged.
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but he couldn't lie, as tragic as it is, he can't help but feel that the death of your sister is what brung you two as close as you were now, there wasn't much said but he could feel the shift in air when you came around, naturally you two became more comfortable together without even speaking on it.
"sooo where are we going?" you asked hoping you dressed for the right occasion "to the mall." you smacked your lips "really?!" it was rare when miles took you to the mall because he knew how out of hand you can get "yeah but we only gon hit up a few stores then we'll get some food and i'll take you home, i have some stuff i gotta handle" you knew he was talking about his 'job' just like your father you never asked what about it as long as it meant more gifts.
HEYYYY YALL so, um happy sunflower day 😭
i might make a part 2 to this bc i actually wanted to make it WAY longer it's rlly js depends on how good it does- reason why i cut it short was because i still have to do our baby 1610 miles and i haven't even started it 🤦🏾♀️
bt yeahhh did y'all like this?? don't lie. criticize me (bt not to harsh ima lil sensitive 💀)
why am i so awkward?
#across the spiderverse#spiderverse#earth 42 miles morales#miles morales#y/n#earth 42#earth 42 miles morales x black!reader#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 miles fluff#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles 42#earth 42 miles#x black fem reader#x black reader#uncle aaron#flowers#hope yall are doing great#😛😛😛#into the spider verse#earth 42 miles x black!reader#miles x reader#miles morales fanfiction#miles g#prowler x reader#prowler miles#miles morales x y/n
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Look What You Made Me Do
Min Yoongi was not a man to play, what he desired, he got.
Warning: Yandere, Possessive, Manipulation
P.S: Took longer than expected :( Hope you all like it! Please ignore the typos, I have not proof-read.
“It has been decided that you will get married to Lord Min, at the end of month.” Lord Yoo said to his eldest daughter.
This was bad, so so bad. Hana was shocked, surprised, scared and worried all at once.
“I..I..” she stuttered too overwhelmed to speak..
Lord Yoo sighed, he loved his daughter…he knew she wanted to travel and learn. She always had a flair for languages. But he was on the verge of bankruptcy…and his recent losing of his position of Ministry of Defence has already added to his guilt and burden. But what could he do? He needed money and position for his younger daughters and Taxation Minister Lord Min’s offer of money and position in his ministry in exchange of wedding with Hana would change the future of him and his family.
With hard eyes and heart, Lord Yoo spoke in a firm and final voice, “As the head of this house, I have decided that you are getting married. And that’s final. You are lucky that Lord Min even wants to do something with us after the recent debacle with the King.”
Hana had seen Lord Min before. His cat like eyes with the deep mark across had left her scared when she had first seen him.
*-------*--------*
Min Yoongi was a man of few words with a mind as sharp as a sword. But perhaps his greatest virtue was patience. And patient was he. It had been an year since he had first seen her in a banquet party held by the King. Mingling among her friends, somehow, she had stood out when their eyes met. She looked scared back then. As if she had just seen a devil. And unknown to her, she had sold her soul as well.
For an year after the party, he was haunted by her beautiful brown eyes. And tormented by the question of who was she? So, he looked for her. It wasn’t easy as women seldom left the house. So, when the king organised the party once again, Yoongi knew his chance was here. It didn’t take long to know that she was Defence Minister Yoo’s daughter. Power and money can do wonders to know enough about someone.
“You are really in love with her, hyung?” Yoongi heard Hoseok while sitting with his group of close friends of years. Love? The word felt too measly for what Yoongi was experiencing right now.
“Maybe..I feel curious definitely”
“So, you are saying if I went now and talked to her, you wouldn’t mind?”
Yoongi was on Namjoon in a second, “Don’t try me”, he grunted.
Seokjin sighed, these kids cannot not fight…even after gaining respectable positions! “Separate at once! You both are now adults and we are in presence of the King, keep your tantrums in check.”
Yoongi glared at Namjoon before returning to his seat. “What I feel about her is not anyone’s concern.”
“But hyung, if you are in love with the lady, that would be so cool! You know her dad is really corrupt…wouldn’t be a problem in taking that old fool down.”
“Hmmm…interesting suggesting Kookie”
Taehyung ruffled Jungkook’s hair to tease him. “Hyaa…I am 24 now, don’t call me that! I have a reputation to maintain!” Jungkook whined.
“You know, Yoongi, if it’s what I believe it is..I think you need to act fast,” muttered Seokjin.
“What do you mean, hyung?” frowned Namjoon.
“He’s looking for a match for Lady Hana I have heard..and from what I see..you are just as smitten with her as I am with my wife….if he resists too much…there’s nothing that I cannot manipulate for him to fall in your lap. After all it wouldn’t be hard to pin the recent missing of treasure on him in my investigation.”
*-------*--------*
“Lord Yoo, how are you?”
“Oh..Lord Min..it’s the same old story of being overburdened with work. Parties like these do give us respite ain’t it?”
“Hmm..” Yoongi gruffed, eyes searching his bambi. “I heard you are looking for a groom for your eldest daughter.”
“I am indeed, but for my second daughter, Mi-joo, who is of age now…” Lord Yoo said fondly.
“Lord Yoo, what about your eldest..what’s her name..yes Hana..she’s 22 right now isn’t she? A bit late for marriage?”
“She’s not ready for marriage yet..Min Yoongi” Lord Yoo spoke harshly.
“Hmm..you know I thought this will be a civil conversation. But I suppose you don’t do civil” Yoongi laughed and then his eyes turned more feline if possible “I will make this clear to you. I like your daughter Hana, and I will be coming to your house this week with my parents with a marriage proposal and you old man are going to say fucking yes.”
Lord Yoo got up suddenly, spilling the drink on the table and said, “Why would I want a man like you for my beloved daughter? With that scar so big, I doubt, you will find anyone. Don’t test me young man. I can destroy you in second.”
Poor Lord Yoo did not know what was about to come for him. A fortnight later, he got summoned by the King over the charges of stealing from the national treasures.
Yoongi smirked standing in the King’s court seeing his hyung alledge false charges on Lord Yoo..caught you. I am coming for you, jagi..we’ll be together..soon.
*-------*--------*
Hana had to talk to Lord Min and convince him otherwise! She cannot marry him..not when he scared the soul out of her. She had felt his eyes all night on her a fortnight ago. And it made her feel sick to the stomach. She knew in her gut he was not a good man..a pretty sight with a devil’s soul.
And so Hana did, what she does best..she escaped her house and went to find Min Yoongi. It wasn’t difficult to find him..as if he was waiting for her to come out of her den. As she walked in the sombre room at the courtesans place, she saw him sitting with a drink in hand. Looking all so powerful, magnificent and a sinister smile decorating his face.
“Hana, jagiya...welcome..I was expecting you. After all, you always had a fighting spirit..and you know I love that about you. Always standing up for yourself.”
Jagi? Why was he calling her jagi! He didn’t even know her! “Lord Min..I..have come to talk to your regarding the marriage proposal you have sent.”
“Yes, sure, my love! Don’t worry..our marriage will be an event to behold. I cannot wait to see you dressed for me..prettily..you’ll be finally by my side..like you have always meant to be. But before that come sit, near me..why are you standing so far.”
Hana pressed herself against the door more, if possible. She did not want to go anywhere near him. He was too dangerous.
“Lord Min. I have come to inform you that I cannot marry you. Please find someone else for your affections, for I don’t return them.”
Yoongi sighed. This will not go as smoothly as he hoped.
Just as Hana was opening the door to go, she felt herself being turned around. Her back hit the wall harshly, as she looked up to see Lord Min too close to her. He looked so much more terrifying…eyeing her up..with emotions she could not understand. But whatever it was, it was not love..his eyes did not hold love but something dark and vile.
“I was trying to be patient love, but you don’t like patience it seems. So, let me reiterate to you..you..”, he cupped her face..“were mine..since the day I saw you” and then Hana felt his lips on her..all at once everywhere “mine..mine…mine”
Yoongi rasped, “If you don’t want your old man to be dead..be a doll..love and start preparing for our marriage..if you dare go against me..you know your sisters also have to get married, right?”
Hana felt herself crashing down..with Lord Min’s head buried in her neck..kissing her..marking her neck for the world to see. There’s no escaping, is it?
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Malleyuu fantasy AU where Healer!Yuu finds Lizard!Malleus and they fall in love
Inspired by episode 11 - 13 of Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms. Rewatched those scenes with Snake!Yehua and Su Su and thought of making a Malleyuu twist to it.
Enjoy!
After battling a rather powerful monster alone in his dragon form, Malleus uses up most of his magic and is severely wounded, preventing him from reverting back to his humanoid form. His dragon form is also reduced to the size of a gecko. He retreats and finds a small cave to rest up in until he regains he strength.
While picking herbs, Yuu encounters the lizard-like creature in the cave. Realizing it is injured, they take it home. They provide the lizard with medicine, food, and shelter, which Malleus appreciated but found unnecessary.
The herbs didn't really help his wounds since it only worked for humans and animals, not fae, and Yuu only feeds him bugs and fruit. Fortunately, Malleus liked the times they talked to him, despite them not understanding him in his current form.
As days passed, Malleus learned that Yuu is a healer who is forced out of their village because they were accused of performing witchcraft. They have since been travelling the lands in search of different herbs and medicinal ingredients.
Even after Yuu attempts to release him back into the wild, Malleus refuses to leave them despite the fact he had already regained much of his powers. He has grown fond of Yuu and wants to accompany and protect them. The only times he leaves to return to the Valley of Thorns are at night.
One day, while accompanying Yuu to the nearby town to sell their medicines, a preacher, whom Yuu had a previous altercation with, accuses Yuu of being a witch. Yuu denies it, but the preacher snatches their basket, claiming that their familiar, a black lizard, is in it.
Yuu pleads with the townsfolk to not hurt the animal, but believing that the lizard is evil, they tie Yuu up and prepare to burn both of them alive. Yuu tries to escape, but Malleus bursts out of their basket, ascending to the sky in his full dragon form.
The townsfolk stood fright as Malleus flew towards the preacher before burning him alive. He then grabs Yuu and flying away to their home in mountains.
Now away from human sight, Malleus gently places Yuu down before reverting to his human form. His human companion stared in shock before hesitantly asking who he truly was. Malleus then reveals he's the Dragon Prince of the Night Faeries.
As thanks for saving him, he offers to take Yuu to his homeland, where they can study medicine and where their talents would be of great use. Though hesitant, Yuu accepted the offer.
The arrival of a human at the royal court caused much scandal in the Valley of Thorns, but Malleus remained firm on allowing Yuu to stay. Queen Maleficia objected to it, but after hearing how passionately her grandson speaks about Yuu, she obliges.
Yuu becomes an apprentice to the royal healer, and after months of training, they became a well-respected individual in the royal court, earning much praise from the fae. Especially from Queen Maleficia, who is impressed by the healer's intelligence and quick wits.
Their relationship with Malleus also bloomed as they spent time together. Although the dragon prince's feelings were clear, it took Yuu a little more time before realizing they had developed feelings for Malleus. However, they never dared to confess.
Eventually, one day, while having an evening stroll in the castle's rose gardens, Yuu thanks Malleus for saving them and giving them the chance to practice what they love. They wonder just how they could repay him, which Malleus does have a suggestion.
Malleus: How about you devote yourself to me?
Yuu: ...Eh.
Malleus: When you first took me in, I had originally planned to stay until I have regained my strength. However, as the days passed, the more reluctant to grew to leave you. It was then I realize how much I enjoyed your company and slowly, you become someone precious to me.
Malleus: Your presence alone has given me years' worth of happiness, and I wish for that to continue, with you as my consort.
Yuu was astonished by the proposal. Part of them was overjoyed, but another knew of the technicalities that could come with marrying a fae. And a royal one for that matter. Not to mention, Malleus is fae, meaning he has a longer lifespan than they do.
Yuu: But... you are fae and I am human...
Malleus: A union between fae and human is not unheard of.
Yuu: Yes, but between a faerie prince and human commoner...
Malleus: You are far from a common human.
Yuu: But...
Yuu find themselves being cornered into the rose hedges as Malleus close the gap between them. They shy turn their gaze as the dragon price stares at them, gently holding their hands.
Malleus: Whatever callenges we may face, we would face it together. I want you, and only you to stand by my side.
Completely enthralled by Malleus' confession, Yuu's worries begin to wash away and they eventually answered.
Yuu: You truly want to devote yourself to me?
Malleus: Yes, I do.
Yuu: Then I, too, would devote myself to you, Prince Malleus.
Satisified with each of their answers, the two lean in to exchange a kiss, sealing their vows under the starry night.
Notes: Lilia is not written inside, but just imagine him trying to give Malleus love advice any time he can and just routing for the pair behind the scenes lol.
And no, the preacher is not Rollo, unfortunately
Also, I do plan to write this into a proper fanfic featuring my Yuu-sona, but it might have to wait *damn uni assignments*
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#malleus draconia#mc/yuu#malleus × mc#malleus × yuu#malleus x reader#malleus x y/n#malleyuu#fanfiction
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Secrets Behind Our Dreams
Chapter 4: Am I Dreaming?
© thewidowsledger 2023 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
Summary: You are a club dancer; a stripper. Natasha is a respected notorious mob boss. What would happen if your paths happened to cross one night? The only thing you knew about each other was your dreams, and neither of you knew what the other was.
Pairing: Mob Boss Natasha Romanoff x Stripper Reader
Warnings: Mentions of scars, details of weapons
⧗
"Hey, you're not going aren't you?" Bucky asked, knocking on Natasha's open office door.
She signaled him to come in, "I will, actually."
"For real?" Bucky asked not believing Natasha's word.
"Hm." Natasha smirked at his amusement, she stood and took her bag and keys.
"Finally…" Bucky said with a firm yet gentle tone, "That's nice, Nat."
"Yeah, so drive me home. I'm going to crash some shit tonight." Natasha chuckled, throwing her car key to him.
Bucky was quick to catch it, he let out a loud laugh and pointed the key towards Natasha, "You don't mean that."
Natasha doesn't need big preparations for the event but she realized the need to retire to her sanctuary, her own private space where she could gather her thoughts and mentally prepare on what possible things she would encounter later. Well, she just hopes that she would not smell any disgust.
Bucky led Natasha towards the sleek, black luxury car waiting outside. "After you, boss." Bucky playfully opened the door for Natasha.
Natasha rolled her eyes on him and chuckled, "Quit it Barnes."
As they settled into the comfortable leather seats, the engine purred to life, its gentle hum soothing to Natasha's senses. Bucky watched her through the rearview mirror of the car, deep in her thoughts.
As they arrived at Natasha's residence, a luxurious mansion secluded behind the city, she thanked Bucky for his unwavering support and words of wisdom.
"You could be a therapist you know." Natasha clutched her bag and some papers as she made her way out to the car.
"You think?" Bucky chuckled at the idea coming out of her.
"Yeah, thanks for the lift and the words of wisdom." Natasha playfully rolled her eyes when she said 'words of wisdom.'
"For the lift? Hey, this is your car Nat, I'll return this to the compound right after while you on the other hand will have fun tonight, 'kay?" Bucky tried to command Natasha intimidatingly but she was already walking towards her front porch.
"We'll see that." Natasha muttered to herself.
⧗
The dimly lit corridors echoed with the sounds of her footsteps as she ascended towards her bedroom.
She buried herself in her queen-sized bed, her face thrown deep to the pillows. Her tiredness slowly seduced her. She grunted when she realized she needed to prepare. What she was thinking right now is, she needs everything to be over as quickly as possible so she could let sleep seduce her after.
"Everything will be over tonight…" Natasha muttered to herself as she slowly sat in her bed.
She made her way to her personal wardrobe area. Her gaze swept over the array of tailored suits that hung neatly in her walk-in closet, each garment meticulously selected to convey authority and sophistication. After a few moments of contemplation, Natasha's fingers deftly picked out a sleek, charcoal gray suit.
With the suit chosen, Natasha moved on to the finer details. She carefully selected a crisp white polo shirt, meticulously folded and she opened her drawer full of personalized cufflinks in it. She took the one with a carved Widow sign on it.
Satisfied with her choices, Natasha proceeded to the bathroom. Natasha stood before a big vanity mirror, assessing her reflection with a discerning eye. She took her robe out, her eyes traveled down her shoulders, her gaze lingered on the patterns etched into her skin for a few minutes. She gently caressed her skin; the tattoos carefully chosen to shield and hide her scars. Natasha dropped her head and put both of her hands to the countertop of the bathroom.
"I don't want this 'Pa, nasha rodoslovnaya - proklyatiye!" (our bloodline is a curse!)
Natasha shook her head and blinked her tears back, she doesn't have any time for this.
She immediately dressed herself, each garment fitting her form with tailored precision. She unbuttoned a few buttons of her polo and straightened her collar.
"Something's missing." She muttered to herself as she looked at herself in the mirror again.
She made her way to one specific room, lined with shelves of varying heights, stood Natasha's personal arsenal. The air was heavy with the scent of metal and oil. Each shelf held an array of weapons, meticulously organized and maintained.
Natasha approached the cabinet, her fingers gliding across the polished surfaces as she made her selection. Her trained eyes scanned the rows of firearms, blades, and other tools of her trade… some of them were actually stolen.
She carefully chose the weapons that would accompany her tonight, her hand grazed the smooth grip of a personalized compact pistol. She loaded it with some personalized bullet that has a clean-carved Widow symbol in it. She quickly turned and aimed the mirror behind her as if she was going to shoot someone, she eyed herself in the mirror while holding the pistol.
Natasha smirked and pecked a kiss through the barrel of the gun.
"You're coming with Daddy, baby."
⧗
The engine purred to life as Natasha slid into the driver's seat, her hands gripping the leather-wrapped steering wheel. The sleek black car responded to her touch, obediently gliding through the busy city streets.
The city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors as Natasha deftly maneuvered through the traffic. As she navigated the bustling streets, Natasha's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, briefly catching a glimpse of her own reflection. The dimly lit car interior accentuated the intensity in her eyes.
"Our blood will keep you alive, Natalia."
Natasha was once again lost in her thoughts, she gripped the steering wheel tightly as if she's going to break it. She took a few breaths trying to keep herself calm and composed. The rhythmic hum of the engine provided a steady backdrop to her thoughts. Natasha's mind raced as she drove her way.
As the car glided to a stop in front of the club's entrance, Natasha took a moment to compose herself. Adjusting her attire and ensuring her weapon remained discreetly concealed, she stepped out of the vehicle, radiating a commanding presence.
The bouncers at the entrance instinctively recognized her, parting the way with respect and wariness. Natasha strode through the threshold, the ambient sounds of music and conversation enveloping her. The air was thick with anticipation, a palpable energy that charged the atmosphere.
Her heels clicked against the polished floors as she made her way through the place, with each step, Natasha exuded a sense of authority, her presence demanding attention and respect.
"There she is…" Rumlow called, which Natasha quickly heard.
"Wow, no girls sucking your dick. That's new." Natasha mockingly retorted.
"Well, that's for later," Rumlow whispered to her, "And one of my girls really likes you, I'll let you have her. Consider her a gift for being here." He playfully winked.
Natasha raised her brows at him, considering his offer. "We'll see, if I like her then I will have her."
"That's the heiress I know!" Rumlow exclaimed in victory. His laughter unified with the loud music of the club. Natasha just rolled her eyes on him. "Well, this way. If you wanna sit with us." Rumlow gestured his seat along with Zemo and Sharon.
Natasha scanned the room, and felt some familiar presence she didn't like, presence that disgusts her, and if being honest she didn't like most of the people here.
"The twins aren't here, I know." Sharon spoke as she watched Natasha sat across from her.
"What twins?" Natasha asked, glancing at Sharon with curiosity.
"The Evil Twins, the Maximoff's." Rumlow huffed, with a disgust in his tone.
"From what I've heard the twins went back to Sokovia for some business matters and they will fly back here this week." Zemo informed, glancing at the three of them.
"Oh, the brats. I'm not looking for them, I haven't even met those assholes yet and I have no interest considering the things I've heard about them." Natasha explained, maybe Sharon keenly observed how Natasha scanned the whole club and thought she was looking for the twins.
"Brats yeah, Valky said they would rent this place for a week or so just for the girls that work here." Sharon looked over at Natasha.
Natasha met her gaze and glanced around the club, "I could buy this place." She muttered to herself but enough for everyone to hear.
"Sheesh!" Sharon exclaimed cheekily. "That's the damn heiress!" Rumlow commented, raising his drink towards Natasha. And Zemo held his hands up in a mocking defeat. Natasha just rolled her eyes on them.
"The younger twin was the biggest patron of the Red Room," Rumlow suddenly opened up, he eyed them carefully, "The last thing I heard about them was when the older one bought a girl from the Red Room's bidding as a gift, and after a few days the girl is nowhere to be found. Poor girl, and that…" Rumlow groaned, he was lost in his thoughts, "Was the last time I wanted to hear anything about those fucking twins." There was a hint of sadness in his eyes and bitterness as he spat the words.
"Fuckers," he once again muttered. Rumlow may be a mob who sleeps around a lot but he cares for his girls.
"The Red Room…" Natasha leaned back to her seat and crossed her legs, not comfortable about the topic, "It's still around?"
"Not anymore." Sharon pointed to Natasha before taking her shot.
Natasha let out a sigh and nodded.
Natasha is only associated with a few organizations and mobs, only those she could trust. Starting with Rumlow also known as the Crossbones, Natasha's link in trading different kinds of firearms. Zemo, masked as The One, responsible for producing any kind of explosives. And Sharon, the Power Broker that gives her access to government secrets, prototypes and weapons whenever she needs to.
Natasha's business empire revolved around the clandestine world of armors, firearms, and espionage. Her operation was meticulous and highly organized, enabling her to stay one step ahead of her competitors and maintain a stranglehold on the market.
Natasha possessed an extensive network of contacts and informants, keeping her well-informed about potential opportunities to obtain valuable firearms. She had meticulously planned and executed operations to acquire these weapons, whether it involved intercepting shipments, infiltrating secure facilities, or exploiting weaknesses in the supply chain.
Her expertise in the field allowed her to procure a wide range of firearms, from conventional handguns to specialized military-grade weaponry. Natasha had an eye for quality and rarity, always seeking out unique and sought-after pieces that commanded high value in the black market.
But Natasha's dominance didn't end with physical weaponry. She had an intricate web of spies and informants strategically placed within rival organizations and law enforcement agencies, she is a spy herself.
But some of the business other organizations of mob bosses involve exploitation of humans in various forms. It was a side of the business that she despised, one that went against her principles and sense of justice.
Natasha's background as a mob boss didn't make her blind to the suffering caused by those who thrived on exploitation. She had seen firsthand the consequences of such actions and the pain it inflicted on innocent lives. It fueled her to run her own operations differently, to focus on power and influence without resorting to the same inhumane practices.
"You're lost in your thoughts, Widow. Tell me what are you here for? Business or…pleasure?" Zemo asked as he studied Natasha's behavior.
"What if I came here for both?" Natasha was good at gathering herself quickly, she gave him a playful smirk.
Sharon snorted at her, "You're here for a pussy are you?" She slid a drink towards Natasha.
Natasha let out a loud but sultry laugh, "I am way past that Carter…but who knows?" Natasha grabbed the drink and took it in one gulp.
"In fact I am giving her one of my girls, and she considered it." Rumlow winked at Sharon, "Tell me, do you want some too?"
"Want some what? Girls or drinks?" Sharon chuckled at his question.
"Both!" Rumlow exclaimed, their laughter filling the air, "Oh, I think the fun's about to start!
The lights went out and a loud sensual music began to play in the background.
"Speaking of girls…" Zemo butted in as soon as he saw a girl walking behind Rumlow.
The girl grabbed Rumlow's back shoulder and massaged it, "Hey…"
"Oh, my sweet Pea," Rumlow soothed her hands that is slowly reaching his torso. "My sweet Pea here really likes you, Natasha."
"Is she…" Natasha glanced at the girl Rumlow is pertaining to, but a figure emerging slowly yet seductively at the stage caught Natasha's attention.
"Yeah, she was the girl I offered you last time. But you were cocky and shit," Rumlow huffed, "So, my sweet Pea this is Natasha, and Natasha this is Penelope, my gift for you." Rumlow once again winked at her.
"Romanoff is the only one with a gift here?! Wow!" Sharon mockingly clapped with a playful jealousy showing. She looked at Zemo but Zemo only held his hands in the air and chuckled.
"Hey I asked you if you want some!" Rumlow exclaimed, he held a drink for Carter. "Here, drink first. There are a lot of girls that will come in, don't worry. But Natasha, right here, reserved her first. So this is a first come for serve policy."
Penelope looked at Natasha lustfully as she made her way to her, her hips swaying with the beat of the sound.
But Natasha was lost in thoughts; she never took her eyes away from the stage. Despite the darkness, she could clearly see a familiar figure moving. The moves were fluid, the body was a work of art as she started dancing in time with the pounding beat of the music. The body seemed to be in perfect harmony with the rhythm as it swayed and twirled, seamlessly transitioning between moments of gentle elegance and bursts of fiery and seductive intensity.
And she only knows one person who owns those moves. She wasn't dreaming...
It was you.
Secrets Behind Our Dreams: Masterlist
#natasha romanoff#black widow#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff au#natasha romanoff fanfic#black widow x reader
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I love my 🩻 anon so much for this.
Should of faxed it. {Kyle Broflovski x Reader}
✯ Genre: smut (reader is fem)(Kyle is aged up.)
✯ Relationship: unestablished, enemies.
✯ Style: One shot
✯ Context: you’ve been working in this law firm under Kyle as his assistant for longer than you can remember and it’s the most frustrating and draining job you’ve ever had.
Your legs were moving under you faster than you were aware of. At this point you may have even been running with the speed which things were going past you. You didn’t really care, if you were running then, despite the fool you were absolutely making of yourself, that’s fine. Good even. It’s probably what you needed really. You were running late. Extremely late. You needed to make it into the office as soon as possible, you could practically see your bosses face when you closed your eyes. He would not be impressed, that deep crease that occupied the space between his eyebrows sunk even deeper than usual.
There was no doubt that your boss was handsome, you even had some lingering feelings for him from when you started, however after three years of essentially being his “bitch” you had grown almost completely unattracted to him, almost, and you absolutely and wholly hated him, and he most definitely hated you too. Honestly, you were willing to argue about it for days on end, no person who respected you as a colleague would ever treat said colleague as though they’re a slave.
You burst through the glass doors of his office with his coffee mumbling an apology for the dramatic entrance and lowering your head in attempts to be less noticeable. You walked, or more so strode over to his desk in attempt to make the time you were in the room shorter, the faster you were out of there the faster you could forget about the mess that was this morning.
You placed the coffee down on the desk and turned to leave. You’d actually gotten out of the whole thing completely unscathed. You began to head for the door.
“Wait.” Shit fucker.
You slowly turned on your heel, “Can I help you, Kyle?”
“What time do you call this.” He got up from his seat and advanced towards you.
You stared at him for a long moment. What the fuck does he mean? You stared at him for a moment more, finding the right words, trying your best to not spit venom at him. “What the do you mean, “what time do you call this?” Do you realise,”—You wanted to stop, you really did but it was far too late now, he needed to hear this anyway—“the only reason I’m late is because I stood in line for almost an hour,” You began to raise your voice. “Because your picky ass can’t just have regular coffee like everyone else, noooo, you can’t because you’re Kyle Broflovski, you’re too good to drink regular coffee like other people, you have to have it done perfectly by a fucking barista that doesn’t get payed anywhere near enough to deal with shitty ass customers like you.” You took a deep breath in attempt to calm down, “So, if you must know, I’m late because of you.”
He stared at you. No, he more so bore into you. His eyes had gone dark, almost sinister. His mouth bobbed a few times. You almost cried, you couldn’t quite believe your eyes. For the first time ever, you’d rendered Kyle Broflovski completely speechless.
He was still glaring at you. You began to back up slightly, you felt like prey. With the way he was looking at you, you thought you might have actually turned into a piece of meat and Kyle was your predator.
You took in a sharp, painful breath about to apologise when Kyle took one long step towards you, almost a leap. Before you could move away from him and run for your life he had grabbed your hips and was kissing you.
You pushed him off with all your strength, with was enough you make him stumble. It was now your turn to glare, you waited for an answer.
“I’m sorry for my improperness, however, that speech right now…truly…something.” The tone of his voice was almost evil, you truly enjoyed it. Deep down you knew you wanted this. On a surface level, you knew you wanted this and it killed you to admit that you’d been thinking about thing since day one.
Not matter how much you hated Kyle that did not change the inevitable fact that he was absolutely sexy, a sexy that you had to train yourself to resist. A sexy that almost sent your silly when he would talk to you. He was sexy in a smouldering way, arguably the perfect kind of sexy.
The fact you knew you both wanted this for some odd and unexplainable reason made him all the more desirable.
It was your turn to “leap” at him. This time you actually did leap though, you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing him. He didn’t hesitate to kiss back, making his way over to his desk.
When you got to his desk, he placed you down, not exactly gently. He trapped you between his hands on the desk continuing to kiss you, not once breaking for air.
When he finally did break for air, he stared at you, you could tell by the look on his face he wanted to ask for your consent without but completely unsure of the words to use. “I give you my consent, boss.” The nickname must have really helped him as his started to make quick work of removing your clothes, slipping your pencil skirt off and letting it pool on the floor and unbuttoning your shirt at a speed you’d never seen before from anyone unbuttoning a shirt, not even ripping a button off.
He began kissing your chest, not making any move to unclasp your bra. No, instead he made work of your pants, starting off by hooking his fingers in the hem of them. He peeled them off your at a painful slow speed compared to when he had been taking off your skirt.
He stared at you, his cold eyes lingering over you for longer than you had anticipated. He was raking you in, soaking up the sight, to like you were absolutely gorgeous but at the same time an absolute beast, you had a sharp tongue and a complimentary eye for mistakes. You had called him out many times and no matter how much it pissed him off he had wanted to fuck the hatred he had for you right out of him.
He waisted no time taking off his own clothes either, disposing of his own suit on the floor.
He somewhat forcefully grabbed your thighs and pushed them open. He lined up and before you had a chance to prepare your he pushed into you, knocking every thought out of your head. You let your head roll back.
He didn’t give you much time before he was moving, driving his hips forward with a power that, for such a small framed man, shocked you. You let a whimper fall past your lips, spreading your legs as far as you could, he was hitting all the perfect spots.
It did take very long for you both be become disheveled. Your orgasm was so near that you could practically feel it. Your knees were tingling and your core was tightening. Right when you were about to grab onto that hot white heat of release that you longed for, Kyle pulled out.
He pulled out. What the fuck was he pulling this time? What an asshole.
Then, before you could protest, he pried you off the desk making you stand, turned you around and bent your over the desk, not a single word leaving his lips. You couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him in that moment, your cheeks were burning and your core tightened more.
Before you could get any answers from him, he stuffed himself back inside you, returning to his previous speed. The new angle left your feeling starstruck. He was abusing all of the parts that he needed to.
A whimper landed on your back, the small sound tickled you. He placed a kiss against your shoulder blade continuing to pound you with passion, passion that you knew was duped by hatred. As much as you both wanted the, the idea of knocking each other down to their most vulnerable state drove you more towards it. The was no denying your hatred for one another however there was also no denying your attraction to one another.
You could practically hold your orgasm in your hand. It was so close. Mere inches away. You could feel the heat bubbling up inside you, and you could feel it in him too. He was close, you could tell by the way his drive had gotten higher, he’d become rougher with you. Sharp and harsh snaps of his hips, your skin clapping together.
A longer moan left your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. That sweet release you’d been waiting for. Kyle’s hips began to stutter. Then, long white ropes painted your inside, his hips coming to a holt. He teased his head on your back tickling you with his breath.
“Fuck, Y/N.”
You couldn’t say much, in fact you couldn’t think much. When Kyle had finally regained his bearings, he pulled out, allowing his semen to ooze out of you, trying not to pay much attention too it. He redressed himself quickly while you came back to reality.
When you’d finally come back from your high, you pushed yourself off the table. You dressed yourself as quickly as your could and made your way towards the door.
“Hold on.” You turned on your heel feeling a slight sense of deja vu. “Don’t be late again.”
You rolled your eyes. “Okay, boss.” Asshole. And with that you stormed out of his room, trying to best to not slam the door behind you. You head straight for your office.
Bye this is sooo bad💀
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