#*looks at my “eddie is/was one of the first to Learn” theory*

[theneighborhoodwatch]

i am sooooo normal about music

and because i am so normal about music, my first instinct when i saw this ask was to look for translations to see if there was any Lyrical Significance. i only found like 3 english translations though, and all of them seemed to be a little rough around the edges - the most accurate one i could find was this one by jeremy maxwell. still, i was Very Intrigued by what i found.

my original plan was to see if i could cobble together a translation that flowed just a little better using my above rudimentary knowledge of spanish and my Extremely rudimentary knowledge of portuguese, BUT my lovely friend @kindestegg offered to put together a quick translation that was both more accurate and flowed a little better than the ones i found. i've included his translation under the cut, complete with footnotes Also written by him.

On Sunday I read your immense¹ letter telling me everything The first time I learned² what you thought, I learned of everything And I felt³ like someone who doesn't live in the world And thus my deep silence I felt that sadness would come and change It⁴ would take over my heart

Today I don't know what I think anymore I want what I search⁵ for I wanted so much to live my future with you⁶ But sometimes things like this happen They show up, seem to show up, to show up⁷

Today nothing is left but waiting⁸ To see something happen And for a new day to come⁹ And for the silence to end and a new day to come¹⁰

TN Footnotes:

¹ I think "immense" is an accurate word here, as well as i add the "me" there because it just helps understanding better, though that is less a direct translation and more implied.

² The verb "know" here isn't wrong, however the way soube is used here is more in the sense of an ongoing discovering, whereas I think "know" implies having full knowledge even previously somewhat.

³ It's hard to translate accurately "ficar" without fully changing the verb, as in brazilian portuguese that verb is often used to signifiy many different things, including a state of being. Therefore "staying" would not work.

⁴ "It" is implied here, referring to sadness.

⁵ The usage of "searching" would be inaccurate, the verb here does not indicate gerúndio, just a present tense in general.

⁶ Small rearrangement to keep understanding.

⁷ Here the singer exemplifies a play on words which is common for this type of national beat, but it is a little hard to translate over text. Essentially "para" here is acting not as in "to" as connected to the previous verb, but rather as its own standalone connective of finality. It doesn't serve the purpose of connecting to any verb, but instead emphasizing that when things "seem to show up", they do so to in fact "show up" in a concrete manner. Hope that isn't too confusing ^^''

⁸ I am confused by a translation I've seen adding "out there", that is not implied anywhere here? It may have gotten tangled with the word "além", but that one is connecting with "de" to create what can be translated as "but". It could be also translated as "aside from".

⁹ Added connectives to keep a better flow, sentence looks weird without them.

¹⁰ Ditto.

anyways. i don't know if any relevance to welcome home wrt the lyrics was like, intentional, but if you need me i'll still be kubrick staring into my bathroom mirror while thinking of this song.

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

mint chocolate rewards [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii i kept getting stuck with this one but am pretty happy with how it turned out!! as much as i love pathetic steve i also looooove cocky steve. hope you enjoy!! feel free to send requests/suggestions or just chat with me :) -m

summary: you’re tutoring steve (there’s not a lot of learning going on) and he’s a smug asshole sometimes. (ft. ice cream, trains, and karaoke)

modern!steve x fem!reader 

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, angst (steve is a little bit of a an asshole), kissing, a tiny bit of phone teasing, dirty talk, fingering, edging, p in v, smidge of daddy kink (used like once or twice and it’s steve referring to himself)  18+ MDNI!!!!!!

wc: 19.3k (oh im a yapper)

masterlist here!!

College has been a fresh start for you, moving away from your small, stuffy town and basking in the change of scenery and people that a new city brought you. 

Boston was busy most of the time, a Friday or Saturday night in downtown made the city feel alive, electrified—but unlike New York, this city did sleep. Once the hustle and bustle of cars and trains stopped, the city shutdown for the night and the streets were quiet and still. Well in some places. 

It was your third year at Boston University and you’d developed a fondness for the city around you. It was a city of passion and that extended to food, history, and especially sports. A passionate place with the people to match it. 

With this new school and new city, you’d also found some new friends. Robin and Eddie, the three of you had found each other during the first week of freshman year and it had kind of just been that way ever since. You’d like to say you were Robin's best friend, but you knew that title was reserved for someone else. 

You didn’t know Steve Harrington, but you certainly knew of him. Hushed whispers and tired rumors always swirled through the air when Steve was around—and even when he wasn’t. 

Despite the reputation he seemed to have, you wondered if there was really any truth to it. Sure, he seemed charismatic and a little full of himself. Yes, he wore a smug smirk that you thought could bewitch just about anyone. But, when you sat on the sidelines and observed him, you noticed the way he tried to make everyone laugh. You’d seen firsthand how he took the time to talk to everyone around him and make sure they felt included in whatever the group was up to. You saw how he treated Robin, and cared for her. And plus, he couldn’t be that bad if she thought so highly of him, if she loved him so much.

So maybe you did know him, at least a little bit. 

But in reality you were a fairly optimistic person, so you kept your theories about Steve to yourself. You tended to look for the good in people, even when there wasn’t much to look at. A glass half full kind of gal. Which is why when you hear about the ladies man, the stereotypical asshole that is Steve Harrington, you keep your mouth shut and don’t add to the conversation at all. 

Even with Steve being Robin’s best friend, the two of you hardly ever overlapped. You’d see him in passing or he’d be coming to see Robin while you were leaving, but that was it. You weren’t sure why this was how it was, especially with how much she yapped about him. But really you think that Steve has his group of people and Robin has hers. The time they spent together was their own and you didn’t have any issues with that. 

And so when your professor pulls you aside after algebra ll, you realize your overlap with Steve Harrington just increased tenfold. 

“Steve is asking for some outside help and we talked about it and decided the group sessions that I do probably aren’t going to be a good fit. I know you’ve picked up some one on one sessions in the past and made you my first stop.” 

Although you don’t want to admit it, your heart beats a little faster at the thought of spending one on one time with Steve. You’re not sure if it’s excitement or dread—maybe a mix of both. 

“I, uh, I can do that. He’s serious about this right? I don’t want to waste my time if he’s not really wanting to learn something.” Okay, so maybe you’d let some of the rumors about him wiggle their way into your brain, but you couldn’t help it! 

“He is. From what I’ve seen he takes his classes seriously, despite what others say about him. I don’t think he’d ask for help just to make a joke out of it.”

She had a point, why would he go out of his way to seek tutoring if he wasn’t serious about it? And if someone needed some help and you could do it, you were going to. 

“Alright, I’m in. You can give him my number and I’ll see about setting something up.” 

———-

Your phone buzzing beside you while you laid in bed that night wasn’t out of the ordinary but it was strange when you looked and didn’t recognize the number on your screen. Until you remembered the conversation you’d had with Professor Benson that morning. And until you scrolled through the messages and saw his name. 

Unknown: Hi! I heard you agreed to be my tutor! Professor B didn’t tell me your name but thank you! 

Unknown: You are a lifesaver. 

Unknown: Oh shit this is Steve Harrington by the way. I forgot to mention that. 

Phone still clutched tightly in your hand, you cursed yourself for feeling nervous. He was being perfectly polite, cute even, and here you were with sweaty palms at the thought of texting him back. But you had to. You agreed to this and you wouldn’t go back on your word over some jitters. 

It only took you writing and rewriting the message about twenty times before you came up with something simple that didn’t make you cringe. 

Y/n: Hi, Steve! You’re welcome, I hope I can be of some help to you. I’m y/n, by the way. Did you have a certain time or place you wanted to meet up for your first session? I’m free most days after 6. 

Steve: Y/n? As in the person Robin has replaced me with? What a small world. 

Y/n: Funny. I don’t think anyone could replace your spot in Robin’s life, but yes that’s me.

A small smile worked its way on your lips as you went back and forth with him, some of the nerves slipping away. 

Steve: Well lucky me, I’ll finally get to spend some time with the girl I’ve heard so much about. But as for the first session, what about the library at 7 tomorrow? The tables in the back? 

You tried not to let the first part of his text affect you so much, but it did. If you were being honest, you didn’t think he even knew about you at all, so the thought that he had was making your pulse speed up. 

Y/n: Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then! 

Y/n: Oh and I’ve heard plenty about you too, all good things. 

Steve: Let’s hope I live up to my name then. See you tomorrow. 

———

Steve was living up to his name, but not the one Robin had given him. 

The day had passed quickly and before you knew it you were here about twenty minutes early with math textbooks and notes surrounding you. Now you wouldn’t fault Steve for not being early, that wouldn’t be fair, but you would fault him for being an hour late. 

Well technically he still hadn’t shown up. 

Ten or fifteen minutes, even half an hour you could brush off. Things happen, you get that. But you had no text, no call, no anything and you felt a steady stream of irritation flowing through you. Your texts had gone unanswered and while the rational part of you was concerned that something had happened, more than anything you were frustrated. 

You texted Robin to see if she knew anything about what was going on and she didn’t. If he wasn’t here by 8:45 you were leaving. That was more than fair and you cursed yourself for even giving him that much leeway. But really you hoped he didn’t show at all because now you were tired and pissed and certainly not in the mood to hear his excuses let alone tutor him. The thought of even speaking about math right now made you want to cry! 

It was a surprise your pencil didn't snap from how tight you were gripping it in your hand, your jaw clenched and the beginning of a headache pulsing behind your eyes. You’d try one more time, send one more text before you were done. 

Y/n: Can you at least let me know you’re alive?

That was fifteen minutes ago and still nothing. Looking down at your phone you see it’s now 8:50 and you push your chair back with a huff, standing up to stuff everything back into your bag, shoulders aching before you even add on the extra weight. 

It’s when you’re sliding in your laptop that you hear it. Panicked footsteps are hurrying toward you and you don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Any exhaustion you had is wiped away and replaced with red hot anger, the tips of your ears burning as you try to remind yourself to breathe. 

“Fuck, I’m here! Shit, I’m sorry but I’m here.”

You ignore him, it’s all you can do right now and honestly you think it’s best for both of you that you don’t speak. You’d been up since 5 am and that wasn’t his fault, but it definitely was his fault that he was showing up 2 hours late and keeping you up when you didn’t have to be. 

Zipping up your bag and grabbing your keys off the table you turn, brushing past him without so much as a glance before you’re heading to the doors of the library. Maybe you’re being a little dramatic but you don’t care. You hear him behind you, cursing under his breath and trying to quietly call your name but you keep going. Past the doors and down the sidewalk and straight ahead with a frown on your face. 

A hand on your arm stops you and you realize you manage to keep a few feet ahead of him for about four blocks. You don’t turn to him, don’t give any acknowledgment of his presence besides the pause of your feet. 

“I’m sorry I was a little late—”

That gets your attention and it’s enough to break the little silent treatment you’ve had going. It’s enough to have you pulling your arm away from his hand despite the warmth it provided as you turn to finally face him. 

“A little? Try two hours, Steve.” 

His nose scrunches and he looks away. You can see the embarrassment in his pinched brows and pouty lips but it does little to dull the frustration that’s been building inside of you since the half hour mark. 

But he’s standing in front of you for the first time and while he’s spewing sorry’s you’re taking him in. His hair is disheveled and his lips are a little swollen, like he or someone else has been biting on them. He’s wearing a lilac t-shirt that looks a little too good on him and jeans that hug him in all the right places. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Time got away from me and I didn’t realize until I was leaving her house that it was so late! I thought I’d given us plenty of time but I guess I…I fucked up.” 

You don’t hear much after “leaving her house”, a new wave of anger washing over you and you have to fist your hands at your side to keep from knocking in his pretty white teeth. 

“Was everyone okay?” Your voice is calm and quiet, a little sprig of hope inside that maybe someone needed his help, something had happened and it was an emergency. You hated yourself a little bit for hoping for something like when in reality you knew the truth. He’d been too busy with a girl to remember you. 

And yes you realize it wasn’t so much you specifically as it was your tutoring session, but that didn’t make it sting any less. You were a girl, a girl who blushed around cute guys and who wanted to hold hands and kiss and go on dates. And so what if it hurt your feelings a little bit that Steve had forgotten you? You could get over that. But what you wouldn’t get over, at least tonight, was that he’d taken advantage of someone wanting to help him and wasted your time. 

“Oh, yeah, everyone’s okay. It was more like a…a date, I guess.” 

“Right. And your phone stopped working?” 

He scratched at the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face, “I didn’t hear it go off and when I saw all your texts I was already almost here so I just didn’t respond.” Well at least he’s honest. 

“Okay. Maybe you should try out a group session with Professor B before you rule it out completely, you might do well with it.” 

He pulled back, eyes wide and a look of surprise written across features. You get the feeling he’s not used to being told no, even indirectly. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that it’s not fair to me to waste my time. I agreed to this because I wanted to help you but if you couldn’t be bothered to show up on time or even call me to let me know you couldn’t make it, it doesn’t really give me hope that this will be beneficial for either of us.” 

His face hardens the slightest bit and despite the pull you have to be a people pleaser, to say sorry and that it’s okay, you hold strong and straighten your shoulders as he stares down at you. 

“So that’s it? One strike and I’m out?” There’s almost a scoff when he says it, like he can’t believe you and it only adds fuel to the fire burning in your chest. 

“Well you haven’t exactly made a great first impression. If a date is more important than math, that’s fine. I really don’t care. But I won’t clear my nights and sit in libraries alone for someone that doesn’t take this seriously.” You watch him take in your words, furrow between his brows getting deeper the more you talk and you just keep going. “And for the record, I don’t owe you more than one shot. What’s the point of this if you’ll just strike out?” 

“I don’t strike out.” 

A laugh of disbelief flies out of you, hands going up like your surrendering, “Really? That’s all you got out of what I just said?” He shrugged at you and despite his pretty face you felt nothing but contempt for him right now. 

“It was a mistake. I lost track of time. If you think you’re too good to give me a shot to prove that I care, then whatever.” 

“You’re an asshole! Don’t try to-to manipulate me into feeling bad about you doing something shitty. Me setting a boundary with you does not mean I think I’m too good, it means I know my time is worth something and I don’t have to put up with bullshit from people, especially someone I don’t even know!” You can see the regret on his face, the way his features soften and his shoulders slump. “Maybe next time set an alarm or don’t schedule a date on the same day as tutoring. Or maybe let someone know you won’t make it before they sit there waiting for 2 hours to help you out. And maybe if you don’t do any of that, show up and don’t be an asshole when they’re upset about it. Maybe learn that you’re not entitled to people’s time and effort just because you think you deserve it.” 

Finished with your little rant you take a breath, hoping he doesn’t lash out at you because you feel your courage waning and you just want to go home and sleep. 

But all he does is nod at you with dim eyes before he’s turning on his heel and walking in the other direction before you can say anything else. Not that you would, you think you’d gotten it all out when you were standing in the middle of an almost empty street scolding him like a toddler. 

Maybe you’d been wrong in your theories about Steve Harrington. Or maybe you just didn’t fall into the group of people that got to see a different side of him. 

————-

Steve felt like shit. 

He’d lost the nerve to say anything when you tore into him like you did, and he deserved it. It was an asshole move to be 2 fucking hours late and then get upset at you being upset with him. And all for what? A girl he barely knew, who didn’t even like him and called him once every few weeks when she was bored? To be fair he didn’t really like her either, so that made him only feel more shitty. 

You’d told him off, which didn’t happen often and regardless of how pissed off or embarrassed he’d been, it was hard to stay upset when he noticed the cute little twitch your nose would do when you yelled at him. 

And he felt bad because you were Robin’s friend, one of her best friends! He’d been hearing about you for what seemed like forever and now that he was actually going to spend some time with you, he’d blown it. He knew you were a sweetheart, quiet most of the time and always willing to do anything for others. It had been a low blow trying to make you feel bad, he knew that. But he really needed your help here and was willing to do anything to get it. Even if it meant guilting you into it, I guess. 

He was well aware of his reputation around campus, grade A asshole with girls hanging off his arms every weekend. Hell, he played into it most of the time. It was easier to just play into what people expected sometimes, even if that meant being a dick. 

And okay, maybe he was guilty of being kind of cocky sometimes. He could be a little smug but he never meant to come off like too much of a prick. He liked to think it was charming sometimes. 

But right now he was worried about passing algebra and making things right with you. Robin would kill him if he didn’t, and he owed it to you to at least try to be decent. 

That’s how he finds himself here, standing in front of you and Eddie where you’re perched in the shade under a big tree in the center of campus. Before last night he’s never said more than a hello to you and he doesn’t think he’s ever even been this close to Eddie. 

He watches the two of you, the way you lean into Eddie as he walks closer and the way Eddie narrows his eyes like a guard dog who’ll bite if he gets too close. He feels a twinge of something deep in his stomach watching you cling to Eddie and maybe it’s because you’re so pretty or maybe it’s because Robin has built you up in his head to be this angel that he’s kind of enamored with. 

“Can I talk to you?” He’s wearing sunglasses so you can’t see the way his eyes dart around your face and settle on the small pout you're wearing on your glossy, peach colored lips. 

“You didn’t have much to say last night, nothing good at least.” You had one hell of a backbone, he’d give you that. From what he’d heard from Robin you tended to try your best to appease the people around you so a little spark shot up his spine at the thought of you not backing down to him. 

He didn’t miss the way Eddie smirked, looking between your stern eyes and the pleading puppy dog look Steve was wearing. He nudged your shoulder to grab your attention, “Oh hear him out, yeah? It won’t hurt anything.” Steve gave Eddie a quick, grateful nod and turned back just in time to see you rolling your eyes at the both of them. 

“5 minutes, Harrington.” 

Eddie got up, gesturing for Steve to take his place as he grabbed his stuff and sent a reassuring wink your way. Steve thinks with all the friends he has, he doesn’t have any besides Robin that really count. Maybe if he quit being an ass, you and Eddie would be his friends too. 

“First I wanna apologize for being late, and for not calling or texting to let you know. I do care about school and I appreciate you taking the time to try and help me. I’m sorry I took that for granted.” He watches your lips part in what could either be shock or surprise and the small nod you give makes him keep going. “And I’m really sorry for the shitty stuff I said. It was a dick move trying to make you feel guilty when you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m lucky you even agreed to help me in the first place, s’not your job. I guess I’m just…used to getting my way. It sounds shitty to say it out loud but I guess we both know it’s true. I realize you don’t owe me anything and I haven’t done anything to earn a second chance, so I’m sorry. I’m gonna try out a group session and see how that goes, I think. But uh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not going to apologize for anything.” Well, he has to admit that is not what he expected to come out of your mouth. Your shoulders had softened the slightest bit but your eyes were still weary of him. 

“I don’t expect you to, you did nothing wrong. I deserved you telling me off. Hell, I probably needed it. I just wanted you to know I was sorry, you deserved to hear it.” 

When you don’t say anything for a few minutes he takes that as his sign to leave, pushing himself off the ground beside you and dusting off his pants before you stop him with a sigh of his name. 

“Thank you—for the apology. I can tell you mean it and that’s all I wanted. It sounds like you actually heard what I was saying and…and if you want a second shot, you’ve earned one.” 

“Really?” He smiled wide at you, hand grabbing yours that you’d held out and he lifted you up with ease. You nodded at him and he felt relief all over. He didn’t realize he still had your hand in his until you gave him a squeeze and he dropped it, shrugging shyly. 

“Two strikes and you are out, Steve. Don’t make me regret this.” 

He couldn’t help the cocky smirk he flashed, hands going to his hips, staring down and not missing the way your throat bobbed at how close he was. 

“I told you I don't strike out, didn’t I?”

—————

You were very pleasantly surprised by Steve’s apology, kind of shocked by it too. You hadn’t expected much to come out of your little rant, let alone him seeming so genuinely sorry about what had happened. And he seemed to understand what you said, he let it soak in and took accountability for it. 

When he was standing there so sincere and upset, you couldn’t help but to offer him another chance. This was the Steve you thought you’d seen, kind and attentive. You were happy you weren’t totally wrong about him. 

But one thing you did realize was that Steve Harrington was a pest. He got under your skin in the best way possible and lit you on fire in a way that nobody ever had. It’s like he lit a spark in you and you loved every second, even if you pretended like he got on your nerves. 

In the last two weeks you and Steve had gotten together about 4 times, and it was going well! You’d realized within one session with him that he just needed some one on one time with the material. He grasps the concepts much easier when he has someone to walk him through a few problems at his own pace. 

And he’d been on time to every single one, even early to a couple. Today he even showed up before you, the little eager student that he was. 

You noticed the more time you spent together over the last two weeks and the more comfortable Steve became, the more he liked to tease you and watch you flush red under his stare. 

Like now you’re sitting beside him—you had sat down across from him but he pouted like a child and said it would be easier if you were closer—and he’s complaining about the quadratic formula for the millionth time. 

“We’re almost done, Steve. Two more problems and you’re free to go.” 

“I think I should get a reward for all this.” He would probably stomp his foot at you if he was standing up and you can’t help but huff a small laugh at the little frown he’s wearing, chin in his hand and shoulders slumped in annoyance. 

“You do. You’ll pass the class.”

He’s not amused by this, rolling his eyes and pinching the bare skin of your thigh where your shorts have moved from you shifting in your chair. You watch the spot turn pink and his touch, even something so quick and simple, has you buzzing. 

“Lame. I was thinking more of a kiss, let me have a quick taste of those pretty lips.” No matter how many times he mentions your mouth or how’d you taste it never fails to thrill you, your face heating and your eyes darting everywhere but his. 

It’s even worse when you watch the way he watches you, leaned back in his chair with his thighs spread and a smug look on his face. He’ll flash his teeth at you in a smile and send a quick wink that has you having to stop yourself from sinking between his open legs. He knows what he does to you and he loves it, soaks it up and never gets tired of it. 

You’ve turned back to your own notes, leaving Steve to work on the last few problems and of course he does anything but. It’s only been a few minutes when you feel something brush across your hair, you ignore it. A few seconds later something soft hits your cheek, and you ignore it. But when it hits your forehead you turn to him with a scowl, a little ball of paper between his fingers. 

“You are a child.” You swat at his chest and regret it when he catches your wrist in his hand, skin turning hot under his touch. You can’t look away from where his fingers wrap around you and it makes you dizzy to feel his rough hands against your skin. 

“Hit me again, baby.” 

That was another thing that had started, the pet names. He used your name sometimes, but called you baby, sweetheart, or doll when he wanted to make you stutter your words and stumble through your sentences. 

He’s smirking at you, eyes light and filled with amusement at the way your neck is turning a bright pink, reaching and reaching until your ears are burning. “C’mon, please?” 

“No reward for you if you don’t finish those problems.” Despite the turmoil going on inside your voice sounds cool, unaffected, and you thank god for that. 

“Fine. I can be a good boy when I want to be.” 

Ignoring him, you turn back to your notes, far too distracted to actually pay attention to them anymore but you still stare at the paper in front of you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he actually goes back to his work, finishing the problems quickly and you beam at him when they’re all right. 

“See! I told you, just need to take your time with this stuff. I’m proud of you, Steve.” For once he’s the one blushing, brushing it off like it’s nothing and asking for his reward. You should have known, a child never forgets a promise you make them. 

Leaning forward his eyes widen, darting over your face to check if this is really happening. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, not used to playing his games with him and it takes all the courage you have to let your lips brush over the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, before they find the shell of his ear. He’s still beside you, anticipating your next move and if you weren’t so hell bent on teasing him back, you’d kiss him right now. 

Your lips graze him and it’s your turn to smirk when his grip on the table in front of you tightens. His knuckles are white and his jaw is set with you so close to him. 

“Ice cream. That’s your reward.” 

Pulling back quickly so you can see his reaction, you beam at the way his lips are parted and his chest is heaving a little harder than it should be. He just watches you with wide eyes before something settles over him. Something that makes your stomach flutter and tells you you’ve started something that you won’t win. 

When he speaks you can’t help but watch the way his mouth wraps around the words so sensually you feel it all over, like he’s touching every inch of your skin and it’s addicting. 

“Perfect. M’dying for something sweet.” 

———-

He can’t stop thinking about the feeling of your lips on his skin, even if it lasted all of three seconds it’s running through his mind on a loop and making his head a mess. 

God he wishes you would have just bit down on him, sunk your teeth into his skin and let him feel your tongue soothe the burn. 

You’re walking side by side to your favorite ice cream place now, the sun is out and bright but despite that there’s a nice breeze that cools his skin. You would have already been there but he had to spend fifteen minutes distracting you from leaving just so he could stand up without getting arrested for indecent exposure. 

Remembering the small smile of victory you had makes him smile, but not as big as he’ll be smiling when he gets you back. He loves watching you preen under his touch, loves the way your chest rises and falls a little faster when he leans in towards you and loves even more the way your eyes go all big and round and your cheeks turn bright red when he says something cheeky. 

Spending some time with you over the last two weeks, it’s obvious to him why Robin is so obsessed with you. You’re hilarious, sometimes you make him laugh so hard his stomach hurts and he has tears in his eyes. He’d known you were a sweetheart but getting to see it firsthand gave him a goddamn toothache. Watching the way you smile at him so proudly when something finally clicks, how you listen to someone with such intent, no matter what they’re talking about. You’re just so kind and good that he wants to be as close to you as possible at all times. 

But this is the first time you two are venturing outside of the library together and he thinks he’ll spend much more time convincing you to do things with him besides math. Now that he’s got a taste he needs more, craves it. 

He doesn’t even notice you’ve arrived until you’re tugging on the sleeve of his shirt and giving him a smile as sweet as honey as you wordlessly point at the ice cream shop he’d just walked past.

Pulling open the door he lets you go first and looks around to see only a few people besides them in the shop. Perfect. 

Since there’s no line, you both go quickly. You opt for chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup and he decides on mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone. He notices the way your nose scrunches all cute at his choice and he rolls his eyes as he pulls out his card to pay before you can. 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who’s gonna say it tastes like toothpaste or something.” Your jaw drops in offense and he has to roll his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing at how cute you are. 

“I wasn’t! I only made that face because I almost got it myself.” 

“And the thought of having a similar taste to me is making you feel sick?” 

“No, just didn’t peg you as a mint chocolate chip guy.” 

“So you’ve been thinking about pegging me.” He knows you’ve realized what you’ve done before the words even leave his mouth and he smirks at you anyways. He’ll take any chance to get you all flustered and riled up. 

“Pay for my damn ice cream, Harrington.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just quietly snickers to himself while you go and find a place to sit. He notices the way you choose a seat in the corner, far away from anyone else in the shop and he smiles. You probably know what’s coming, waiting for the other shoe to drop after your little stunt at the library and he loves seeing you all worked up and on edge. 

He likes it a little too much. 

Instead of sitting in the seat across from you he slips in the booth beside you instead, watching your eyes dart to the side to watch him carefully. He’s not sure why you’re surprised, he always takes any opportunity to be close to you. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder he lets his fingertips toy with your hair, smiling when he feels you relax into him. “Can I have a bite?” You seem to not think anything of his request, lifting your spoon up to his mouth and he lets you slip it between his lips, your eyes trained on his mouth and his on you. 

He hums around the spoon and lets his teeth catch when you drag it from his mouth. You shake your head at him, leaning slightly against his chest and enjoying the quiet between you too. 

It’s go time. 

“Wanna bite?” He’s looking down at you and you nod sheepishly, leaning forward to meet him halfway when he moves his cone towards your mouth. Right when he reaches your lips he moves the cone an inch over and touches the ice cream against the corner of your mouth. 

Before you can reach for a napkin he grabs your wrist, smiling all innocent when you look at him with confusion in your eyes. “I got it, don’t worry.” 

And when he leans forward and moves his head down to be eye level with you, he smirks at the hitch in your breath when he leans forward and lets his tongue swipe over the sweetness there, his tongue catching the corner of your mouth. 

The spoon clatters on the table between you and he hasn’t moved, face just inches away from yours and his hand isn’t playing with your hair anymore, it’s gripping the back of the booth so tight it hurts. 

“Steve..” A breathless little plea leaves your now clean mouth and it takes everything in him not to go in for another taste. He pulls back just enough to watch your eyes flutter close and your head fall back to lay against his arm that’s still behind you. There’s a shine on your cheek from his spit and he’s so hard he can feel his heartbeat all through his body. 

Despite the cockiness running through him at the way you’ve melted, his voice is quiet and breathless just like yours when he speaks where only you can hear him. “What? Just cleaning you up, messy girl.” 

He feels something cold on his hand and looks down to see his ice cream melting, spilling over the cone and running down his fingers. When he looks back he sees you staring at them too, a look in your eyes that has him reeling. 

If there wasn’t anyone else here he’d have you lick his fingers clean, he can see the way you’re itching to do it.

But there’s more people coming into the shop and he’s seconds away from dragging you into the bathroom so he needs to get you out of here, get into the fresh air and out of the little bubble you’ve created. 

“You ready, Stevie?” He loves when you call him that, it makes his chest feel all warm and he just wants to nuzzle into you when you say it. He must have been staring at you, too busy thinking about how bad he wanted you to do anything else. 

He nods, sliding out of the booth and holding out his now clean hand to you, body buzzing when you take it and he feels your skin against his. You walk out and into the street and the breeze on his skin is a life saver. 

Your apartment is just two blocks away from the ice cream shop and the walk there is quiet, both of you thinking about his tongue so close to your mouth. His hand brushes yours as you walk and he feels his fingers twitch with the need to slip your hands together. 

“Good reward then?” It’s you that breaks the silence and he’s grateful, his heart racing in his chest despite the smug smirk he’s wearing looking down at you. 

“Oh baby, the best.”

—————

You and Steve spend about four days a week together at this point and you’re not convinced he even needs that much tutoring but you don’t complain. You’ll take any chance to spend some time with him. 

The two of you have also decided to forgo the library, taking turns having it at his place or yours and most times you work on actual school stuff for about half an hour before he’s distracting you with a movie or a game or a promise of food. 

It’s been a few weeks since that day at the ice cream shop, where he licked the corner of your mouth and sent you spiraling. Having him that close was overwhelming enough, let alone feeling him on your skin. 

Since then things haven’t changed much, he teases you and sometimes you retaliate but oftentimes you just sit there red faced and let him enjoy how flustered he makes you. He’s still touchy and smug all the time, but hasn’t put his tongue anywhere near you since. Unfortunately. 

Tonight you’re both at your place, you lying out across your couch in a t-shirt and pajama shorts that really don’t fit you anymore but you refuse to get rid of. Steve is on the floor in front of you stretched out and scrolling through his phone while you switch between watching the tv and watching him. 

He’s been less like himself tonight, quiet and there's a little furrow between his brows that has you worried. By this point he’d usually be wrapped around you, playing with your hair or rubbing at your neck. But he’d barely touched you today, barely teased you and you wondered what had happened between yesterday and today that had him so out of sorts. 

Regardless of his mood, he takes time to admire the way your ass peaks out of the bottom of those shorts, his jaw clenching when he gets a peak at the smooth skin there. He can spot where your ass meets your thigh and he wants to bury his face there. 

You're pulled from your thoughts when he sits up, sitting his phone on the edge of the couch beside you and using your thigh to hoist himself off the ground. “Be right back, honey.” 

You just nod, stretching out your legs and trying to memorize how the heat of his palm felt gripping your skin. He goes to the bathroom, the click of the lock sounding out at the same time his phone lights up beside you. 

You don’t mean to look. Really, you planned to call out to him and go back to the shitty reality tv show that was playing in front of you but when you see a name you recognize you can’t help but to look. 

And you immediately regret it. 

Brooke: Are you still coming over tonight? It’s been over a month, I miss you. 

The blood drains from your body and you feel a pit so deep in your stomach you think you might be sick. You know Brooke, everyone knows Brooke. And you don’t keep up with that Steve does but he’s spent most of his time with you for the last month, so you can’t help but wonder if the last time he saw her was the day of his first tutoring session. 

And that should make you feel a little better, should dull the raging jealousy coursing through you but it doesn’t. It doesn’t because from her text, he’s already made plans to go over. Maybe this is why he’s being so weird tonight, he’s ready to go see…her. And then you’re even more upset because it was your idea to hang out tonight and you wish he would have just said no because then you wouldn’t have seen this text and you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to cry. 

You and Steve weren’t together, hadn’t even gone on a date or kissed or been anything more than friends. But that doesn’t mean you haven’t developed this huge crush on him that’s taken over every part of your brain. And the teasing, the touches, they meant something to you. 

Maybe that was your mistake. 

Maybe he’s that way with everyone and you read too much into it. Maybe you’ve spent so much time together because he actually did need that much help with fucking algebra and stuck around because he felt like he owed you or something. 

In a matter of seconds your whole friendship was Steve was up in the air in front of you and you found yourself dissecting every interaction and graze of skin and now you just wanted to curl up into your bed and forget all of it. 

You liked him, a lot more than you would care to admit and for the first time since that first night, you felt uncomfortable being in the same place as him. 

The click of the bathroom lock snaps you from your spiral and you pull yourself off the couch, gathering up trash from the snacks you’d eaten so you don’t have to look him in the eye. And you shouldn’t say anything, should pretend it didn’t happen and figure this out later but you can’t help but let the words slip out when he walks back into your living room. 

“Got a text while you were in the bathroom.” He doesn’t say anything but doesn’t really have the chance because you’re rushing into the kitchen and deciding that now is the best time to do those dishes you meant to do before he came over. 

Hopefully he’ll just…go. You know he won’t but maybe that would be easier if you didn’t have to see him again tonight or smell him or touch him. The water is hot, too hot to be sticking your hands under but scrubbing at this plate is all that’s keeping the tears that are building from falling down your cheeks. 

“Y/n…” He’s behind you now, close enough that you can feel his presence and you know if you just took one step back you’d be pressed up against his chest, you’d feel the warmth that always comes from him. So you stay where you are, the edge of the sink digging into your stomach but you try and scoot closer to it anyways. 

A noncommittal hum is all he gets from you. You don’t move your head to look at him, you can’t because if you do you’re not sure you won’t cry. And you can’t let him see you cry over something that was never there. 

“Can you look at me? Please?” His voice is low and sweet, a hint of a plea in his tone that makes your insides twist painfully. You just shake your head, scrubbing at this plate so hard you’re worried it might snap in your grip. 

His hand is on your shoulder now and a shaky breath escapes your lips, the tears building behind your eyes and you will them away. There's nothing to cry over. He’s your friend. That’s all. “If you need to leave, that’s fine. Seriously it’s—you can go if you want.” Your voice cracks the slightest bit, but he notices. Of course he does. 

“Sweetheart, look at me.” 

Your chest hurts at the endearment and you squeeze your eyes shut tight because you know he’s wearing that puppy dog look he does so well. You know his eyes are round and full of concern, or even worse, pity. You know his bottom lip is jutting out in a pout and it makes you want to take the plate you’ve scrubbed clean and smash it into a million pieces. 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Steve, it’s that he won’t give in. He’ll stand behind you all night, miss his date with Brooke if that’s what it takes. He won’t give up until you’re looking at him, but you don’t know why. Don’t know why he wants to see you upset. But you turn around anyways, cheeks blotchy and a sheen of tears ready to fall at any given moment. 

His lips part softly and his hands are hovering between you, not sure if he should reach over and touch you. “It’s not—she’s not…I don’t want to leave.” 

“Okay.” 

“I don’t know why I even made the plans in the first place! I’d rather be here with you anyways.” 

“Okay.” 

He’s pacing in front of you now, hands fisted in his hair and he looks like he’s freaking out, chewing on his bottom lip and mumbling under his breath while you just stand there and stare at your feet on the floor. 

“I’ve just been…my mind has been fucked lately and I don’t know what I even think anymore and I do stupid shit when I don’t know what do to.” 

“Okay, Steve.” 

“Are you just gonna keep saying okay?” He’s stopped pacing, the stare he’s wearing keeps you still in place against the sink and you feel like shrinking under his gaze. 

“What do you want me to say? If you want to go hang out with her, you can! You’re an adult, Steve. You don’t have to spend all your time with me.” 

“But I want to.” Heart thudding hard in your chest you try to make sense of what he’s saying, what he’s not saying. He’s giving you something, dancing around what he wants to say and you won’t give yourself false hope, won’t read too far into this. You’ve become friends, best friends even and you don’t want to fuck that up. 

“Then stay.” 

You should talk about this, you know it and he knows it. You should get everything out in the open so there’s no more secret plans and unshed tears but you don’t. Instead he nods at you, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you so you’re nuzzled against his chest. Neither of you say anything, just sit there wrapped up in each other for who knows how long before he pulls back and tugs you to the living room, sitting down and pulling you into his side with no words spoken between you. 

The show drones on around you, but you’re not paying attention. Your mind is too busy, too many thoughts swirling around to even try and focus on anything but him. He sinks down further into the couch and you move with him, your head resting against his chest and his hand lying still on your hip. 

“M’sorry I made you sad. Never want to do that, you’re too pretty to cry over me, too sweet.” 

You just nod against him, closing your eyes and feeling the thump of his chest on your cheek. He doesn’t say anything else and you’re grateful. 

————-

It’s been almost a week since that night in your apartment. A week since Steve got that text and you almost lost your shit. A week since you realized how deep your feelings for him actually ran. 

When you had woken up that next day Steve was still there, hand still on your hip with his head thrown back in what couldn’t be comfortable as he slept beside you. He woke up soon after and both of you just…pretended it hadn’t happened. The last week had been normal, so normal you’d convinced yourself that night was some sort of glitch. 

Steve continued to spend most of his days with you, continued to flash those smug grins your way when he sees something inappropriate and you continue to flush under his stare, preen under his praise and stick to his side like glue. 

That’s how you are now, sprawled under that same big tree Steve had come to apologize to you under all those weeks ago. He’s sitting up with his legs stretched out in front of him and your head is on his lap, Eddie beside you hunched over and working on something you can’t see, Robin beside Steve with a book she’s not reading in her hand. 

He’d also been spending more time with the three of you and it made your heart warm. All your favorite people getting along and hanging out.

“We should all go to Lansdowne this weekend.” That suggestion couldn’t have come from anyone but Steve. Eddie scrunches his nose at the thought immediately, tongue sticking out like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Robin groans like she’s physically pained by the thought. 

“Now don’t sound too excited.” Lansdowne was a little pub near Fenway Park that Steve was obsessed with. They usually had live music and were packed to the brim with bodies every weekend. Robin and Eddie despised it, always too crowded for their liking. 

“I’ll go, Steve. But you’re buying my first drink.” 

“That’s my girl!” He patted your head like you were a puppy, grin wide as he turned to stick out his tongue at Eddie and Robin who just rolled their eyes dramatically and went back to ignoring whatever Steve would ramble on about next. 

Neither of you noticed the way Eddie and Robin watched you, knowing smiles on both their faces as they took the sight of you two in. They watched Steve brush your hair out of your face, a look of fondness on his face that Robin hasn’t seen him show anyone before. They watch you snuggle into him, content and comfort written all over your features. 

————-

There was a small bit of regret about quickly agreeing to go out with Steve. Friday came before you knew it and you were tired, so tired from a long week of school and work. It seemed like everything that could have gone wrong this week, did and it had you mentally and physically drained. 

The temptation to text Steve and bail was clawing at you, but you couldn’t. Usually spending time with him was something that made you feel better, so you hoped that was the case tonight. 

It was nice out, not too hot but just warm enough to indulge in summer clothes. Dressing up for tonight was out of the question, you needed to be comfy if you were going to be squished against sweaty bodies and pulled through big crowds. 

That was how you found yourself now, tucked into Steve’s side at the bar at 11pm with a short denim skirt snug around your hips that you’d found in the back of your drawer and a cropped pink t-shirt that molded to your chest. A few inches of skin showed above your skirt and the feel of Steve’s palm resting there had you blushing already. 

You were both three drinks in, a nice buzz in your veins that had you giggling into his chest without embarrassment. When you’d seen him tonight, you knew you were going to need some liquid reinforcements to survive. He’d been wearing a dark green button up that he left undone, tight white tank top underneath that showed the outline of his chest. A pair of light wash denim jeans cinched around his waist with a belt. 

There might have been an audible gulp at the sight of him, but with three dirty shirley’s pumping through you, you eyed him up without care, taking in every inch of him with a palpable hunger. 

His breath is hot against your skin when he leans down to try and whisper in your ear, but ends up talking much louder than he meant to. “Forgot to mention it’s karaoke night.” 

“I am not participating in that.” 

That little frown he does when he doesn’t get his way pops up, lips pouted at you like you’d stolen his candy. “Why not?” 

“Between the two of us you’re the rockstar, Harrington, not me.” 

Before he could open his mouth to argue, someone called his name from across the bar, a man holding a clipboard that looked less than impressed with his job. Somehow in the short time you’d been here Steve had gotten his name down on the list for karaoke without you knowing, and it was his turn now. 

He gave you a quick wink that had you almost melting before him, a small smirk as he squeezed your shoulder and started to push his way through the crowds of people. “Eyes on me, baby.” 

Liked you’d be able to look anywhere else. 

You watch him hop up on the small stage that’s only a few feet tall, no hint of nervousness on his face as he smiles at the small crowd that’s paying attention to him. There’s lights focused on him and you think he was made to be in the spotlight with how good he looks up there. You’re somewhere in the middle of the crowd but he spots you easily, winking before he strips off his button down, tossing it to the side of him. 

The sight of him up there with his tank top tucked nicely into his jeans does little to help with the fuzziness you were already feeling from the drinks. You’re careful not to drool at his arms on display, bulging slightly when he lifts them to grip his hands around the mic. 

“Hello, Boston!” 

You’d think this was his personal show the way the crowd cheered back at him, encouraging what you know was nothing but mischievous behavior. He’s getting the attention of more of the bar the longer he stands up there and you can’t blame them, he’s a sight to see. 

“You all look beautiful tonight!” 

A laugh bubbles out of you when the beginning notes of Mr. Brightside by the Killers boom from the speakers behind him, not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

He’s practically bouncing on his heels as he sings the first few notes—and so is his hair. But your laughter and amusement is quickly replaced by something fiery and strong that builds in your stomach as you watch him. 

His hands are wrapped around the microphone in front of him, eyes screwed shut when he gets to the chorus and you feel like you’re on fire. During a pause his head is thrown back, throat bobbing for everyone to see and you try to trace the beads of sweat running down his throat from your spot in the middle of the bar. 

When he starts singing again—and fuck he’s good—his eyes are open and on yours, coming so close to the microphone you can see the way his lips pucker against it on certain notes and you’re thankful it’s so packed in here, the people around you keeping you from falling to the ground. 

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay, destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes, 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside

About seven feet are between you but with the bright lights shining on him you watch in awe as his raspberry lips wrap around the words and his tongue swipes out and darts across them every few seconds. He looks ethereal on that stage, hair slicked back from running his fingers through it and hips rocking side to side in time with the beat. 

His voice is pure silk and honey, like he was born to sing this song and it has your heart racing so fast in your chest it’s hard to catch your breath. He’s jumping around, putting on a noteworthy performance while the patrons around you yell and dance with him. 

Every once in a while his nose bumps against the mic and you can’t get over how alluring he looks with his lips grazing the mic. He’s captivating, stealing the attention of almost everyone in the room now and your heart swells in your chest. 

It takes you a second longer to realize the song has ended, cheers and hollering making your ears ring as he basks in the attention on stage. You can see that cocky smirk from here, his eyes dark and cheeks red as he blows you a kiss when he catches your eyes again. 

Maybe you could use another drink after all. 

 —————

Steve was sweaty from karaoke, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck, button up he’d been wearing thrown somewhere and he was sure he’d never see it again. The tank top he wore was clinging to his skin and he wished he could peel it off, the stickiness in the air of the bar doing nothing to cool him down. 

But he saw the way you watched him up there, your eyes trained on his mouth or his hands the whole time and it made him feel electric. The way you licked your lips like he was your next meal could have him on his knees for you in an instant. 

He’d lost you when he got off the small stage, eyes searching through the crowd and sighing in relief when he finds you standing by the bar, chin in your palm as you swirl your drink around. 

That relief is short-lived when he sees some douche come up beside you, a charming grin plastered on his face and his eyes dark as he takes you in. Steve sees red when he places one of his hands on your waist, his palm touching your bare skin since you’d chosen a crop top for tonight. 

Possessiveness stirs in his belly, hands fisted at his side at the laugh you give him. It’s fake, he can tell, but it still makes his jaw clench uncomfortably. 

You’re not interested in this guy, he can see that. You’ve leaned back enough to create some space between the two of you and your eyes dart around the bar quickly and he knows you’re looking for him. 

Little did you know that even if you weren’t looking for him, he’d still be there. He’d always be there. Couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he wanted to, which he didn’t. He’d become addicted to your strawberry scent and your sweet little giggles. He’d become addicted to you. 

It’s when this asshole lifts his hand to brush a piece of your hair away from your face that Steve starts to move, shoulders shoving through the crowd with ease and he sees the way your body relaxes when you catch sight of him heading towards you. 

The thought of someone else touching your skin, feeling how smooth it is and how it warms up under their touch has him gritting his teeth. His jaw twitches thinking about you looking up at someone besides him with stars in your eyes. 

When he’s within reach he lays his hand on your exposed thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh there and placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Told ya I’d be right back, doll.” He doesn’t acknowledge the man beside him, eyes focused on yours. 

Your thighs clamp shut around his hand and a devious smirk plays on his lips at the feeling. “Who’s this?” He cocks his head towards the man that had been trying to talk to you, not looking his way but finally acknowledging his presence. Douchebag is still there, watching the scene unfold in front of him with little amusement. 

“I-I don’t know. We were just talking.” Steve hums at you, eyes drinking in the little drops of sweat rolling down your neck and down your shirt. He’s itching to lean forward and collect them on his tongue, to taste any part of you he can get his hands on. 

You yelp when his fingers pinch at your inner thigh, hands coming up to grip his forearm in surprise. He doesn’t miss the way your hips shifted forward though, searching for his touch instinctively. 

“Don’t want these boys talking to you, do you?” He’s leaning closer to you but still talking loud enough that the prick who can’t take a hint can hear him. You shake your head quickly and he smiles. “It’s because you’re my girl, isn't it baby? Want them to know you’re mine to take home, mine to play with, mine to keep.” 

At this point he’s not even talking for the benefit of saving you from some creep in a bar, you both know that. He’s not just staking his claim so they’ll leave you alone, he’s telling you the truth, what you both already know but refuse to talk about. He’s yours as much as you are his. It’s been that way for weeks. 

For him it’s been that way since you ripped him a new one, tore into him for being an asshole with your big round eyes that twitched in anger at his attitude. 

You’re nodding at him with blown out eyes, thighs still keeping his hand trapped between them. The guy you’d been talking to is long gone but neither of you seem to notice or care. 

“So say it.” His lips are tilted in a smirk, knowing eyes watching you shift and squirm under his stare. He feels himself thickening in his pants, head of his cock pressed up against the zipper painfully but he doesn’t care. He’d stand here in pain all night if you kept looking at him like that. 

“I’m your girl.” 

His chest swells with pride, grinning down at you and watching you just eat up the unsaid praise. You’re blooming under his gaze, chest puffing out the slightest bit and his mouth waters. 

It’s hard to breathe when you’re looking at him like that. His stomach feels tight and a feeling he can’t quite describe takes over. He wants to feel your skin on his, to taste you, smell you, anything you’ll give him. But he also feels like he could be sick, just looking at you being too much for him right now. 

He uses his thumb to tap on your thigh so you’ll open them for him, pulling his hand out and tugging on your wrist to pull you back to the middle of the dance floor. Your obedience thrills him, makes his spine tingle and heart race. He should’ve known you were a good girl, the best one really. You don’t even question him as he grips your hips in his hand, pulling you flush against him while the music booms around you. 

Neither of you are really moving, just standing there pressed together while bodies push and move around you. One hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer so that he can lean down and talk in your ear where you’ll hear him. 

“Saw the way you were watching me up on the stage earlier.” 

Your hands are clinging to his shirt and he feels your grip tighten, smiling knowingly against your ear. He loved the way you watched him, the way your eyes never left him like you were mesmerized. 

“You looked good up there, like a natural.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Hmm, my rockstar.” 

The praise shoots down his spine and makes his body buzz. He’s watching the way your hair flows over your shoulder and he wants to tug on it, make your head fall back and expose your throat to him. 

You pressed against him mixed with the sticky air surrounding you is too much, his head feels fuzzy and he’s seconds away from biting on your lips and licking into your mouth. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

———————

In hindsight, deciding to take the train at 1 am on a Friday night was a stupid idea. Anyone and everyone in the city chose that time to pile on. For a second you’re worried you’ll lose Steve in the crowd of people but a few seconds later you feel his fingers slip through yours and tug you to his side. 

“Can’t risk losing my precious cargo.” 

The ringing in your ears is either from the feel of his skin touching yours or the tell tale screech of the train approaching. When it pulls up in front of you, your cringe at how crowded it already is, forehead covered in a sheen of sweat before you even step on. The doors open and Steve is pulling you through the bunches of people, tugging you through and moving you to stand in front him when he sees an opening. 

Your back is pressed against the opposing doors and you sigh in relief at the coolness it provides. That relief is short lived when you peek over Steve’s shoulder to see more people piling on. He presses closer to you to make room and your heart thuds harshly against your chest. 

His feet are spread slightly to be on either side of yours, arms over your head to hold on to the railing and it feels like he’s caging you in. He’s pressed up against you completely, your chin touching his chest and lips hover near your forehead. 

It doesn’t help that his arms are on full display, button up he was wearing long gone since before karaoke and instead adorned in a white tank top that’s like a second skin. It’s hugging his chest and waist and it’s taking everything in you not to lean forward and nip at his arm. 

And then you’re thinking about how he looked on stage. Pure sex as he captivated the crowd with his effortless charm and talent. You think you could watch him like that forever. 

Fuck. All you could feel was him, his breath on your skin and his body keeping yours snug against the doors. You’re not sure you could even move, not that you wanted to. Tilting your head back an inch you look up at him, eyes glancing over his strawberry mouth that’s tilted into a smirk, looking up further to see how he’s watching you closely. 

Honey eyes staring into yours scream mischief and when you breathe in you feel your knees falter, a sweetness washing over your senses. Just the smell of him was enough to have your skin tingling, hints of cherry and vanilla from where you were practically nuzzled against his throat. 

Your hand was wrapped tightly against the pole in front of you and the feel of the cool metal against your palm did little to help with the heat you felt burning through your chest. The train lurched forward and the hand that was dangling by your side shot out to fist at the fabric of Steve’s shirt. The fucking white tank top he was wearing. 

“Eager, are we?” His tone was teasing and when you took a quick glance down to see a sliver of his stomach showing where you had his shirt tight in your grasp, your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. 

“Oh please.You just happened to be the closest thing to me, Harrington.” 

He feigned offense, knowing smirk never leaving his face and you stifled a groan when you felt his stomach twitch against your hand. You thought that if you had to be pressed against him for much longer you might just pass out. 

When you look up to see you still have a few stops before yours, you release your grip on his shirt and try not to notice the disappointment that floods through you when your hold on him is gone. He seems to notice too, eyebrows furrowing for a split second before his expression goes back and he’s smiling down at you again. 

“Ya know,” He tilts his head to the side like he’s wondering about something important but his expression holds nothing good. “You look good like this, pressed up against me all flushed and pretty.” 

Arousal seeps down your spine and curls around your belly like a boa constrictor, your throat all of a sudden dry and you can’t seem to do anything but blink up at him. 

“Going dumb already? You really are precious cargo.” 

You have about an ounce of self control left and that’s what keeps you from letting a whimper slip into the sticky air between you. You know he can read your emotions on your face but you try and school your features anyways, lifting your leg that’s trapped between his and pressing your weight down on his foot. 

It just makes his sickly sweet smile even bigger and your breath hitches when he leans down to press his lips against the shell of your ear. You dig your fingertips into your palm when he lets his tongue swipe against his bottom lip and it catches your skin as it does. 

“Trying to hurt me, baby? Why don’t you bite me next? Pretty please?” He brings his hand up between you as he talks, uses his thumb to swipe at your bottom lip and if you weren’t on the fucking train you’d part your lips for him and take his thumb into your mouth. You think you want that a little too much to be so close to him right now. 

For the first time since you’ve moved here, the train is your saving grace. The doors pull open and the cool air of the night hits you, breaking you from whatever little trance Steve had put you under. It clears out enough that he can step to your side now, giving you some much needed space to try and get yourself together. 

The chatter around you has died down and while you feel marginally more in control of yourself, the smell of Steve and the feel of his arm brushing against yours beside you is enough to keep you on your toes. 

“Cooling down over there?” 

“Yes actually, no thanks to you.” 

He shrugs his shoulders innocently and if he hadn’t just been whispering in your ear about liking the pain then you might actually believe the sweet look he was wearing on his face. “Oops.” 

The next stop is yours and while you’re trying to figure out if Steve is coming with you or if you’re gonna have to figure out some weird goodbye, he’s already five steps ahead. When the train comes to a stop and the doors open he’s grabbing your hand again and pulling you out of the train and into the breeze that cools the sweat on your neck. 

“M’gonna walk you home, okay?” You nod wordlessly, letting your hands swing gently between you as you make your way through the now quiet streets. Everyone is either deep into the city until the bars close or already tucked away in their beds after a long work week. Few people litter the streets but you don’t hear much besides the buzz of the train pulling away and the soft hum coming from the person beside you. 

It doesn’t take long before you reach your building nestled in between two others that look just like it and while you fumble through your bag for your keys you feel his gaze burning into the side of your face. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left the bar.” 

A noncommittal hum is all you give him and he’s not a fan of that, reaching forward and plucking your apartment key from between your fingers before you even register what’s happening. You reach out automatically but he’s pulling back and out of your reach. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” You know what he’s asking and you’re just making this harder for the both of you but he’s had you so on edge since he got on stage and was all…rockstar and sex that you’re scared about what might come out of your mouth if you’re not careful. 

“Why have you been so quiet since we left the bar?” 

“Not much to say I guess…”

“Bullshit.” 

You blink at him owlishly, lips parted in surprise but you can’t deny the little tingle that starts at your toes and makes its way up your body at him calling you out. “Excuse me?” Your voice sounds pathetic and breathless to your own ears at this point so you can only imagine how you look to Steve right now. 

“I call bullshit. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way you blush every time you make eye contact or you look at my arms,” Fuck he caught you. “Or the way you clench those pretty thighs everytime I whisper in your ear or get a little too close to you.” 

Your chest is rising and falling harshly and if he wasn’t taking up every inch of your brain right now you’d be embarrassed by how he had you panting at him. Any confusion he had vanishes and you curse yourself for being so easy for him to read. Like a fucking open book. 

“Oh that’s it. Scared of what might come out of that pouty little mouth, aren’t you? You listen to me talk to you all sweet and dirty and it just makes you all dumb, doesn’t it? S’cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up! You…you idiot.” It was a weak attempt at a comeback and you felt yourself scrunch your nose at yourself while Steve chuckled. He stepped closer, his hands on his hips as he looked down at you. 

“That’s the best you got?” You were toe to toe now—literally—and you felt yourself shrinking under his gaze. You hated how good he was at making you squirm, how you felt his words on your skin like standing under the sun in the summer heat. But most of all you despised that you didn’t hate it at all.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? A big one.” 

He flashed his teeth at you, hand going up to his chest like your words hurt him. “Oooh there ya go, that’s a little better. But if you’re gonna call me names, I’ve got some you can try. How about dadd—”

“Steve!” You practically hissed at him, smacking his shoulder and huffing like a child at the way he laughed loudly at your expense. He laughed so hard there were little crinkles in the corner of his eyes, grin so big his dimples popped out and you had to stop yourself from poking at it. 

“Alright, alright. No need to get violent, baby. At least take me to dinner first.” Rolling your eyes you snatched your key from him while he was occupied, turning to your door and muttering under your breath. Asshole. Jerk. Moron. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He laid his hand on your shoulder softly to get your attention and when you turned back he was rolling his lips together, trying to keep his amusement at bay for your sake. He had a way of doing that you’d noticed, looking like a little puppy dog when he wanted to. You hated how much it worked. 

“M’done, I swear. For tonight at least. Thanks for coming out with me, I had a lot of fun.” 

“I did too, even if you’re a pest.” 

“Oh c’mon, you love it.” I do. God I love it so much it’s kind of sick. 

“In your dreams, Harrington,” You knew you set yourself up when he opened his mouth, that gleam in his eye that meant nothing but trouble. You beat him to it though, and the little pout he wore made you melt. “Text me when you get home safe, okay? And thanks for walking me home.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart.” 

Reaching up like he was going to sweep you hair out of your eyes, he must’ve changed his mind because he pinched your cheek instead, laughing to himself when you grumbled at him and smacked his hand away. 

You’d watched as he walked away, watched until you couldn’t see him anymore before you finally went inside, trudging up the stairs to your apartment and feeling your nerves settle once you were finally alone.

It was like you could breathe again, that ache you’d felt all night still thumping but more dull now than it had been in his presence. You finally felt cool and relaxed. Until your phone buzzed about twenty minutes later. 

Steve: Made it home safe and sound. Not a scratch on me.

Steve: Well besides the ones you left on me when you were pawing at me on the train! 

Y/n: Idiot! 

Steve: We really need to work on expanding your vocabulary. Maybe I could tutor you. :)

Steve: Whoops I meant ;), it’s hard to type one handed. 

You gasped and you swear you’d just burst into flames from how hot your face felt staring down at your phone. Was he…he wouldn’t. But did you mind if he did? No. Fuck, no. But you couldn’t just let him know that. 

Y/n: Steve Harrington you are sick! 

Steve: What?? I’m eating cereal and texting you! Trying to multitask here. 

Steve: Get your mind out of the gutter you filthy girl. 

He’d played you and you took the bait so easily! At this point you should know he’d take any opportunity to embarrass you, you both knew you loved it. He loved getting you all flushed and squirmy and you loved pretending like it didn’t light you up inside. 

Now you were thinking about him touching himself, your thighs sore from squeezing together and your heart racing. You wanted to know how he looked doing it, what he sounded like…Jesus Christ you needed to get a grip. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed in your hand that you realized you hadn’t texted him back. 

Steve: Your cheeks are all hot, aren’t they?

Oh fuck off. 

Y/n: No! They have no reason to be! 

Steve: Oh they definitely are. You’re all hot and bothered thinking about me only using one hand to text you. You’ve got a dirty mind!

He was taunting you, you knew that. Baiting you and wrapping it up with a nice shiny bow. And you’d take it every time. 

Y/n: You knew what you were doing! You set me up. 

Steve: Little ol’ me? As if I’d ever do such a thing! I’m offended you’d even suggest that. 

Just imagining the shit eating grin he was wearing riled you up even more, your blood pumping and your fingers twitching as you typed furiously back to him. 

Y/n: Playing innocent won’t work with me, Harrington. I know your tricks and they only make my cheeks red because they piss me off! Go fuck yourself, idiot! 

Steve: You wanna watch? ;) 

You thought about throwing your phone at the wall, watching it smash into a thousand tiny pieces and letting every trace of that arrogant, smug, hot asshole wash away. But you were not so secretly relishing in the back and forth, your tummy a ball of excitement. 

Y/n: In your dreams. 

His reply was instant and it made you fist your bed sheets tight, toes curling in your socks and if you were standing you’d be sure to fall to your knees. 

Steve: Oh you know it, baby. 

Steve: Maybe next time. You’ve been a dirty girl calling me all those mean names. Come kiss it better?

When a picture came in seconds after his last reply you dropped your phone to your bed, eyes wide and pulse thumping in your ears as you took in the image before you. 

Steve lying on his bed, shirtless. He was lying against his navy blue pillowcase, one arm thrown behind his head and he showed just enough of his torso for you to see a patch of chest hair that made your fingernails dig so deep into your palm you were surprised you didn’t draw blood. His hair was tousled like he’d tugged at it and his mouth held the most perfect little pout. You assumed that’s what you were supposed to be kissing better. 

It had been several minutes since you’d moved so it didn’t make sense why your breathing was so heavy and why there was sweat gathering at the base of your neck. All you could think of was leaving your mark over his chest and shoulders, deep purple spots that you know he’d wear with a proud smile on his face. 

If he could see you now…you’d never hear the end of it. 

Y/n: Meh. 

He must have been sitting there waiting for your reply, the three little dots popping up almost instantly after you hit send. 

Steve: Meh???? 

Steve: It took you 10 minutes to reply with meh??

Steve: Liar. 

A sick satisfaction coursed through you and you felt a small sense of victory reading his replies. If you didn’t know any better you’d say Steve was a little upset at your lack of reaction. 

Y/n: It took me 10 minutes because I wasn’t waiting by my phone for your reply. And I’m not a liar, just not overly impressed. 

You were a liar. A huge lying liar who was only able to do this over text because if he was in front of you’d have been stumbling over your words and blushing like an idiot. 

And that little victory you had lasted all of 2 minutes because when your phone started ringing, that ball of dread from forever ago came barreling back into you harder and faster than before. 

Pressing accept you held the phone up to your ear and tried to get your breathing under control. You were gonna blow your cover quickly if you didn’t. 

“H-hello?” 

“Not impressed, hm?” There was an edge to his voice, one you didn’t recognize but it had a sense of sternness, of authority that had your hands twitching in your lap. 

“Nope. Sorry.” The words practically squeaked out of you, the less you said the better when it came to Steve. If you spoke too much he’d be able to know what you were thinking, he probably already did. You swore he had some magical powers or something. 

“Really? And you’re sure? I only ask because earlier just looking at my arms had you panting like a dog at my feet.” 

Your face burned with humiliation and you cursed yourself for the way it turned you on. Fuck. Any control you had was quickly unraveling and falling apart in front of you. 

“Steve, I—”

“Because when it took you so long to reply, you know what I thought? I thought you’d slipped your hand into your panties like some perv. That was my theory, but I can admit it when I’m wrong.” 

“I-I wasn’t! I’m not I just—”

“But you thought about it, didn’t you?” 

And well of course you had. How could you not when he looked like he did and when you could practically hear him in your ear whispering filthy, teasing things. 

You pictured him now, standing at the foot of your bed with his shirt off and his hands on his hips. How he’d shake his head at you, scolding you like a teacher scolding their student for not doing their homework. You can hear the smirk in his voice as he riles you up and it leaves you reeling. 

“I, well I—”

“Just a yes or no, doll. Did you think about it?” 

“Yes.” It comes out in a whisper, hanging in the air and you should want to take it back, to tell him no and hang up but you don’t. You sit there and bask in it, the embarrassment, the arousal. You sit and wait for him to give you something—like a dog waiting for a treat. 

“That’s what I thought. Now that we’ve got that settled, I’m beat! You’ve kept me up far past my bedtime. Goodnight, perv. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” 

Before you can get a word out, a plea or a curse or anything he’s hanging up the phone and leaving you with your mouth hanging open and an ache so intense it makes your head spin. 

Idiot. Asshole. Jerk. Hot. Hot. Hot. 

He’s left you speechless, sitting there still on your bed with your phone in your hand and your mind running a thousand miles a minute. You’re aching and wet, embarrassingly wet, and you feel a need for him so deep in your bones it’s making you feel insane. 

A knock on your front door startles you, it’s harsh and quick and your pulse spikes immediately. Holding your phone in your hand you make your way through the living room, a seed of worry nestled in your stomach because who would be here knocking on your door at almost 3 am. 

Who besides Steve, of course. 

Just as you’re moving close to look through the peephole, he calls your name from the other side of the door. Excitement pools low in your belly, hairs on your arm standing tall at the promise of him just inches away. Pulling open the door you’re met with the same Steve you’d left just a short time ago, but now he’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts that hang low on his hips and his hair is still damp from the shower you’re sure he’s taken. A pink t-shirt is stretched over his broad shoulders and there’s a simple silver chain hanging around his neck. 

How does he always look this good? You don’t say anything, opting to step to the side and allow him through and he steps in wordlessly, giving your arm a squeeze when he passes by. 

Closing the door behind him, you watch as he makes his way to your room and you stand there dumbfounded, wondering what the fuck is going on and why he hasn’t said a word to you after showing up at your door at 3 am. 

Following him is a simple choice, one that leads you to your room to see Steve sitting on the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide, hands behind him flat on the comforter while he leans back the slightest bit. He’s stunning and it has you fighting the urge to sing to your knees on the carpet in front of him. 

It feels like a staring contest between the two of you. But instead of looking in your eyes, Steve is letting his gaze run over your body. You’re in an oversize shirt that reaches about mid thigh, nothing underneath but a pair of panties that Steve ruined hours ago. 

He finally meets your eyes, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his mouth that makes you feel jittery. “W-what are you doing here?” You can’t help but to stumble over your words when he’s looking at you like that. Like he could take a bite out of you. 

“What do you think?” 

“Missed me already, Harrington?” 

“Always.” Some of the smugness he carries with him has melted away with the admission and it makes your heart swell in your chest. The thought of him missing you provides a surge of warmth through your body. 

“I missed you too,” Your voice is timid, his stare making you feel exposed to him, “but I thought you were going to bed.” 

“Well that was my plan, but I couldn’t fall asleep knowing you were over here making a mess because of me and not come help clean it up.” 

Your toes curl into the carpet below you and you hope it will be able to ground you a little when you feel so…you don’t even know what you feel. Your stomach is twisting and your palms are sweaty and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. 

One of his hands lifts to motion you forward and you do so without hesitation, your feet carrying you to him instantly. When you get close enough you go to get on your knees instinctively and he stops you with a small, proud smile. “No, no, I’m here to take care of you, baby.” And while the notion fills you with excitement, you can’t help but feel a little upset that you won’t get to put your mouth on him. 

And of course this just makes him smile even bigger, eyes bright as he takes in your frown and can’t help but shake his head at you. 

“Before we do anything I just…I want you to know I care about you, yeah? This isn’t some one night thing for me. I want everyday with you, everyday that you’ll give me.” 

“I care about you too, Steve. I think that was obvious when I scrubbed all the paint off that plate after I saw that text on your phone,” He huffs a small laugh at you, hands settled on your hips, “You’ve become such an important part of my life and I—I like you a lot, even when you’re mean to me.” 

He scoffs like the idea is foreign, playful glint in his eye the whole time and it drives you crazy. He has that look, the one that tells you he’s about to say something that will either make you hit him or drop back down to your knees. 

“Come give daddy a kiss then.” 

It’s the former, hand coming up to smack at his chest hard despite the way the name makes your stomach clench and your spine tingle. He just laughs, loud and steady, pulling you down onto his lap and smashing his lips against yours. 

His lips are just as soft as you’d dreamed about, full and slick with spit and you feel yourself pulse when he smiles into the kiss. His nose bumps with yours, his hands sliding from your waist to your hair and letting his fingers tug and pull while you push closer to him. 

“Fuck—you taste so good.” You don’t even realize the words come from you until you feel Steve groan against you, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip as if to taste you too. 

When you finally have to pull back for air, your forehead is pressed against his and you both try and catch your breath. He looks like a dream, mouth shiny and swollen, eyes glazed over as he takes you in. He tastes sweet, the kind of taste you crave at the end of the day or when you need a pick me up. Or just because. 

He’s shifted back a little so you’re not hanging off him and the edge of the bed, your thighs wrapped around his hips and your chests almost touching from how close you are. He’s tugging at the ends of your shirt, trying to pull it off but it’s trapped between your thighs and his. You lean up just enough for him to pull it free, tugging it over your head with ease. 

What you’ve managed to forget in the heat of the moment, what Steve doesn’t know but is quick to find out is the little secret no one but Robin knows about—and she only knows because you needed moral support. 

“Oh holy fuck,” You’ve never seen his eyes so wide and his mouth is dropped open so big it’s almost kind of scary. Somehow you’d forgotten your nipples were pierced, maybe it was from Steve kissing you stupid, you’re not sure. But he’s looking at your tits now like he’s got gold in front of him. 

Your mouth opens to tease him but before you can speak he’s moving his hand to cover your mouth, eyes never leaving your boobs and you have to laugh against him. 

“Don’t—you can’t say a thing right now or I’ll cum in my pants.” He sounds so serious, so pained that you whine against his hand all greedy and impatient. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, doll. Think I could cum from just lookin’ at em for too long.” 

You nod eagerly against his hand, the idea of that turning you on even more than you thought possible. He finally removes his hand but only because he can’t hold out on touching you any longer. His palms come up to cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and you sigh in relief at the feeling of his touch. He uses two fingers to tug gently at the little silver barbell that runs through them, watching your face for your reaction and you don’t disappoint. Your mouth falls open, a small moan slipping out and your hands grip his shoulders tight. 

“Fuck me. God you’re perfect, so pretty and sweet for me. Shit, m’losing my goddamn mind here, baby.” Half his words are almost slurred, attention moving between your tits and your face as he tugs and thumbs at your nipples. The furrow in his brow makes him look genuinely concerned and you throb at the thought of him being so mesmerized by you. 

He’s so occupied with your pretty tits in his face he doesn’t notice when you slide back a little, a few inches of space between you now. You’ve been soaked and aching for far too long and you think if he doesn’t touch you in the next few seconds you might cry. 

You move one of your hands to grab his, tugging it from your nipple and sliding it down between you to press against the front of your panties. They’re messy, your thighs sticky and you hope he understands your not so subtle hint. 

He does, cursing at the feel of how wet and hot you are even through the thin layer separating him from you. “Poor thing, didn’t even know someone could be this messy.” Your hips shift, desperately trying to get his fingers to catch on your clit. “Who made you this desperate, huh? Was it that prick from the bar?” 

You’re shaking your head but it’s not enough for him, hand moving away and you gasp, pulling it back and giving him what he wants. “You. It’s you—you did this to me.” 

Instead of saying anything he dips his fingers past the band of your panties, both of you groaning at the contact. He circles your clit twice, thighs twitching around him before he’s dipping down to your sopping hole, teasing his finger there before swiping through your slit to collect some of the slick that’s there. 

You want to whine when he pulls his hand out but it fades away at the sight of his glistening fingers, how he studies them for a minute before slipping them into his mouth and humming in content. 

“Way better than mint chocolate chip.” 

Next thing you know he’s slipping his hand back between you, the imprint of his knuckles against your panties hot enough to make you drool down his chest. 

Thumb pressed to your clit he moves in slow circles, just enough pressure to make you need more, pressing down onto his hand and trying to swivel your hips. “Want you, Steve. Need you.” 

“I know baby, gotta stretch you out first.” At the same time he’s speaking he’s slipping his middle finger inside of you with no resistance and it’s not enough. It’s like he has a connection to your mind, slipping another finger in immediately and you feel that ache start to untangle itself the slightest bit. 

With two of his much larger fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit, you already feel the signs of an orgasm building deep in your belly. You feel that burn all over, grinding down onto him in search of that pressure that’ll make your eyes roll back. It’s when he curls his fingers that you lurch forward, face nuzzling his neck as he hits that spot inside of you that makes your vision blur. 

“S-steve..” You’re almost there already, walls clamping down on his fingers and holding them inside while he speeds up on your clit. There’s a twitch in your thighs that he noticed, hushed praises in your ear when that string begins to fray, threatening to snap in seconds. 

And then it stops. 

There’s no more curling his fingers and his thumb is still on your clit. You pull back just enough to curse at him, his hand wet and sticky with evidence of just how much you were enjoying that. But when you see his face you know you’re fucked. He’s got that shine in his eyes that screams trouble, a devious little smirk on his lips as he watches the frustration build behind your eyes. 

“Something to say, sweetheart?” He’s taunting you, daring you to curse at him—but you don’t. You can’t fathom the idea of him taking this all away so you remain quiet, shaking your head at him and hoping your obedience will pay off soon. He nods at you as if to say “that’s what I thought”, hand coming up to tuck your face back into the crook of his neck as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you again. 

You’re glad he can’t see the way your cheeks turn bright red because you can hear how wet you are, the small little noise it makes every time he drives his fingers back into has you pressing further into him. He has goosebumps on skin from the feel of your hot breath against his throat from where you’re practically panting, little open mouthed kisses left for as far as you can reach. 

It doesn’t take long before that feeling is building back up, stronger than before and you curse against his skin. “Snug little cunt, greedy for it, isn’t she?” You think you chant a whispered “yes” into him but you can’t be sure, overwhelmed by the tight, quick circles he’s rubbing on your swollen clit and the wave of pleasure you feel beginning to wash over you. 

And then it stops again. 

This time you can’t help the whine that slips out, hands fisting his t-shirt as you writhe in his lap. He chuckles in your ear, smooth and teasing and it makes you mortified when you feel yourself drip down his hand at his meanness. 

“You can handle one more time, yeah? Then I’ll give you my cock.” The promise of finally being full of him is enough to push down your frustrations, eagerness and excitement taking over. He lets you get away with a nod, picking up a faster pace than before and you think it’s not for you, but that his patience is wearing thin. 

He’s rubbing harshly against that sponges spot inside of you with every pass of his fingers, your mouth dropped open with no sound coming out as you try and hold off. It’s too much, too intense and you feel lightheaded at how every nerve in your body is lit up and buzzing.

But apparently he knows your body better than you do, stopping just seconds before you begin to tip over and your shoulders sag in relief and annoyance at the same time. 

“Please, please.” They’re quiet little pleas that he can't even hear but can feel against his skin and he coos at you. It’s condescending and should piss you off but instead has you nudging your nose against his for comfort. 

“Told ya I’d give you my cock, honey. Lay down and let me see you.” You move to lay back, watching him stand over you and strip his shirt and shorts off. He’d forgone underwear and you thank god for that. The sight of his cock, hard and shiny with precum as your thighs falling open for him automatically. He notices this, of course he does. He’s thick and you’re suddenly very grateful for the prep he just did, you don’t think he’d fit otherwise. 

When he leans down to pull a condom from the back pocket of his shorts—presumptuous cocky bastard—you feel the urge to stop him but refrain. You’re already crossing all these invisible lines, you need to have at least some self control. Even though you’re desperate to feel him bare. You’re captivated by him, watching him roll the condom on and clenching around nothing as he hisses through his teeth at the contact. 

Seeing him for the first time, how hard and flushed he is makes you regret even more not getting your mouth on him. Next time, you promise yourself. You’d thought you’d be nervous for this, but you think you’re too overwhelmed with a need for him that there’s no room left to be nervous or anxious. 

Climbing on the bed he moves between your open legs, hands on either side of your head as he holds himself up over you. His cock is lying against you, head touching your clit and it’s making it impossible to lie still. “You still want this?” His face is serious, and you want to squish his cheeks at his consideration for you despite his hard cock pressing against you. 

“Please, Steve. I want this—I need you.” It’s all the confirmation he needs, reaching one hand between you to take his cock, running it through your slit and groaning at the way you twitch below him. After bumping it against your clit he moves down to your entrance, pushing in the slightest bit and squeezing his eyes shut at the feel of you clenching down on him. 

The burn of him pushing forward stings, but it’s a welcome pain that has you gripping the sheets below you, looking for something to steady you when you feel like you’ll float away. “Keep going, please keep going.” You’re pleading below him, mouth dropping open when he pushes in. He has to pause when he’s in all the way, his patch of public hair at the base of his cock catching at your clit and you gasp. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” His forehead is pressed against your cheek, his teeth scraping against the edge of your jaw as he tried to collect himself. “I don’t—shit I don’t know how—goddamn baby, never felt anything this good before in my life.” 

He throbs inside of you when you whine, craning your neck up just an inch to take the silver chain dangling above you between your teeth. “Fuckin’ hell, gonna kill me.” You lift your hips off the bed, urging him to move and moan around the chain when he slips deeper inside of you. He pulls himself up to look at you, hair falling around your head like an angel with blotchy cheeks and fucked out eyes. 

Thrusting forward, the tip of his cock nudges against that spot inside of you and you clench around him so hard his arms almost give out above you. This has been building up for weeks and with the way he edged you earlier, you won’t last long. He knows as much, thrusting into you and using one hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit. 

“Feel like I’m having deja vu, having you pressed against me like this, yeah?” It was just hours ago you were on the train, a few more layers between you but pressed up against him all the same. 

The chain pops from your mouth when he moves your hands to lay beside your head, lacing your fingers together as he stretches over you. Your piercings press against his chest just right and it has your tummy tightening, the added friction enough to have your head spinning. 

He looks mouthwatering above you, hair out of place and falling over his forehead. His cheeks are flushed and he’s holding his bottom lip between his teeth as he moves between watching your face and the way your tits bounce with every thrust of his cock. There’s little drops of sweat running down his sculpted nose and slipping onto your chest, your cute little gasps hitting his ears. 

You know you’re done for when he leans down, lips pressed to your ear and his harsh breath tickling your skin. 

“Takin’ your daddy’s cock so well, aren’t you, doll?” 

Eyes screwed shut you claw at his shoulders, his name leaving your lips in a curse and you both can see the way the nickname makes your face flush a shade darker of red, eyes turning dark and fingers digging into him. “Dirty girl, acting like you don’t like it when I can feel you making a mess of me, this pretty little pussy hugging me tight when I call myself daddy.” 

“Fu-fuck, Steve. Gonna cum—m’gonna cum.” Your words are hushed and quick in his air, rope beginning to snap and if he stops right now you might actually kill him. 

“Go ahead, soak my cock, pretty girl. Show me who I belong to, yeah?” It’s all it takes, rope snapping and sparks shooting down to your toes as you tug at his hair, your thighs tight as your orgasm crashes through you. It feels like it goes on forever, your body taught and ears buzzing and you can barely make out the faint curses coming from above you. 

He belongs to you, and he will as long as he’ll have you.

You feel yourself start to come back down, your chin pinched in between Steve’s fingers and he’s looking at you like he’s seeing the first snowfall of the year. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips grinding into yours and his breaths uneven and sharp. “Where…where do you want it baby?” 

Not sure that you can make coherent sentences right now, you reach up to cup your breasts, Steve’s eyes widening before the most pitiful cry leaves his lips. He thrusts into you one, two, three more times and each one has you gasping below him as aftershocks of your orgasm zing through you. 

He pulls out quickly, pulling off the condom with a sharp inhale and you think he looks good like this, all desperate and pathetic for you like you always are for him. You urge him forward, fingers digging into his hips and trying to pull him up your body. He moves easily, coming up so he’s barely resting any weight on your belly, knees on either side of your chest. 

You cup your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples and pushing them together below him. He’s looking at you from under his lashes, eyes hooded and lips parted in a silent gasp. It only takes two quick strokes before what’s been building at the base of his spine snaps and he’s cursing above you, ropes of white covering your chest and neck and catching the piercings too. 

“Perfect, you’re so perfect—shit.” He works himself through it slowly, his cock twitching and his fingers covered in cum from where it’s dribbled over his fist. He’s staring down at you with an intensity that makes you blush, eyes taking in every inch of you that’s marked with him. 

“Look like a fuckin’ dream with these pretty tits covered in my cum. Fuck, doll, I’m gonna think about this for the rest of my life.” 

All you can do is smile stupidly below him, your heart bursting and your body thoroughly exhausted. He leans down and presses a quick peck to your cheek before he’s shifting off the bed, running to the bathroom and washing off his hand before he comes back with a warm rag, sitting beside you so he can clean you up. His hand hovers over you and you roll your eyes at the little pout he’s wearing as he looks at your boobs. 

“Are you seriously pouting over cleaning off my boobs right now?” 

“Who wouldn’t be? They look so pretty like this.” 

You reach for the rag with a giggle to do it yourself but he pulls his hand back, shaking his head at you and begrudgingly wiping his cum off your chest with a little sigh that’s a little endearing. 

Once you're cleaned up and the condom is in the trash he helps you up so he can pull back the comforter, both of you snuggling in under the covers—naked at his request. His chest is pressed to your back, his heartbeat felt against your skin and it makes you smile into your pillow. 

His skin is warm against yours, fingers laced beside your head and you lift your chin to place quick kisses against his knuckles. 

“Now that’s the kind of reward I could get used to.” 

“Steve!”

————-

It’s the next day and there’s a soreness between your thighs that has you smiling to yourself while you get ready. You remember this morning, how you woke up to the sight of honey brown hair nestled between your thighs, coaxing you out of your sleep with his tongue on your clit. 

The best kind of pain, where you’ll feel him for days when you walk or when you sit down. It brings a blush to your skin and memories you’ll think about forever to your mind. 

He left shortly after, both of you needing to be away from each other so you could actually get ready for the lunch you had planned with Robin and Eddie this afternoon. 

A feeling of nervousness settles within you as you get ready for this lunch. It’s not that you want to keep this from Rob and Eddie, but you’re not what you’d even tell them! These nerves were much more about you and Steve then they were your friends. 

Would you tell them you’re dating? That you like each other? That you’re just fucking around? This is what made you anxious, what had your hands twisting in your lap on the train and had you so distracted you stumbled right into Eddie outside of the restaurant. 

“Woah! Caught ya.” He steadies you, smiling down into your worried eyes and a little bit of that anxiety seeps out of you. This is your friend, one of your best friends! Who cares what’s going on, maybe he’ll have some insight that you can’t see for yourself. 

Eddie leads you into the place, a booth in the back already holding Robin and Steve. They’re both on one side of it and you can see from here that Steve’s unhappy about not getting to sit by you. 

You slide in so you’re closest to the wall, legs knocking with Steve’s under the table and the small amount of contact soothes some of the turmoil happening inside of you. 

Everything is going good, things feel normal—besides the subtle winks Steve sends your way to get you blushing—and you’re not even worried anymore. The table in front of you is filled with food, everyone reaching over and grabbing whatever sounds good. Arms are crossed over each other and hands get tangled when you reach for fries or mozzarella sticks or an onion ring. 

Robin is going on about something, you’re not sure what you’ve kind of zoned out a little if you’re being honest, when you feel Steve staring at you. You look up to his brows furrowed, confusion laced in his features and you quirk your brow at him, wondering what has him looking at you like that. 

It’s when Eddie speaks up beside you, cutting Robin off and bringing everyone’s attention to him that it makes sense, “Harrington, I appreciate the love but can you stop trying to play footsies with me under the table?” 

Steve’s face flames and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and out of your mouth, hands coming up to try and smother how loud it is. But Steve doesn’t recover fast enough, eyes darting to yours sheepishly and that’s when it clicks for Eddie. 

“Oh. My. God.” 

Three sets of eyes fly to Eddie. Robin is confused. You and Steve are looking at Eddie as he looks between the two of you, mouth dropped open in shock and you curse yourself for the storm that’s coming. 

“What?” It’s Robin that speaks first, eyes darting between the three of you quickly. You and Steve keep quiet, trying not to give yourselves away but it’s no use. “Oh my god.” There’s Eddie again, sinister smirk on his lips as he takes his time taking in your pink cheeks and the way Steve won’t make eye contact with him. 

“Oh for the love of god! Someone tell me what’s going on. I am not a mind reader.” 

“Robin, you won’t believe it. These two finally fucked.” A chorus of noises fill your small corner of the restaurant, booth creaking underneath you from where Eddie is practically bouncing in his seat. Robin squeals, hands going to grip Steve’s arms. Steve sighs, letting Robin tug him around like a rag doll in a fit of her excitement. And you gasp, smacking Eddie in the chest the way you do to Steve all the time. 

But neither of you deny it and that alone sends waves of relief through you. Not that you think Steve would, especially with the way he’s gotten over his bit of embarrassment, adorning his signature smirk and a look of pride as the people around him freak out. 

You don’t know how bad Steve wants to show you off, tell the world and scream it from the rooftops how lucky he is to even get to be around you. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, sweet and kind but not afraid to challenge him and call him out for his bullshit. God, he’s obsessed with you. 

Eddie’s rubbing at his chest where you hit him, pouting like a child as if it actually hurt. You hope it did. “Damn, she’s got some force behind those hits,” He looks from you to Steve, eyes lighting up and you know what’s coming before he even opens his mouth, “but you love it, don’t ya big boy?” 

Your head falls forward to rest in your palm, eyes closed as you try and pretend you're anywhere but here. You think you hear Robin gag from across the table and it forces a laugh out of you. Eyes lifting to meet Steve’s, his teeth are showing and he’s shaking his head like he knows a secret no one else does. His words fill the space around you and make your skin heat under his stare. 

“Oh you have no idea.”  ————————————————————————

(save me steve harrington in a tank top)

@aheadfullofsteverogers i remembered and hope you enjoy 💌

[luveline]

Okay but what about Eddie and reader having been going strong for awhile and Eddie wants to take things further and ask reader to marry him, but he wants to ask Roan’s permission first bc he cares about her opinion.

I thought this was so cute! it's almost entirely eddie and roan but r is mentioned lots and lots and is also a bit long my bad 🥺 ♡ fem!reader

He really wants to get you a ring.

Eddie Munson can be stupid. He makes rash decisions all the time. He bets on the wrong horses and he's almost always late to parent-teacher conferences. He buys Roan's clothes by holding them up to her body in the middle of the store and asking her if she likes them. He knows there's a thousand wrong decisions to make and half of them he's already made, but he really thinks this is the right one.

He just needs Roan to agree.

You're at your own place for once. Not for Eddie's lack of trying — he'd asked you to move in twice already, and though you'd kissed him silly and told him you loved him an insane amount, you'd reasoned that you should keep your place. (Though you had, in a way, moved in anyhow.)

"I don't want us to rush anything, Eddie," you'd said carefully, eyes on Roan's dark head of hair across the room. He'd followed your gaze. "I don't want to be the evil step-mom."

He'd promised that could never, ever happen.

He probably shouldn't have. While Roan literally loves you so much it makes her cry, things can change.

Right now, Roan thinks that she's sharing Eddie, and she's doing a great job at adapting to all the changes that come with that. Your clothes in his room, your coats on the hangers. Your work stuff where her princess ponies used to live, your fancy shampoo next to her jellybean two-in-one. Getting married would make you her bona fide mom. Eddie's not sure Roan realises that she's the one who'd be getting shared.

Though you act like you're her mom already. It's one of the many reasons he loves you. You've never once made Eddie feel bad for being a dad, or for having Roan full time. You genuinely miss her when she's at Wayne's. You love his daughter. You play games and you sing songs and you cuddle her whenever you can. You wash her hair and take care of her curls, you do plaits and bows and bunches. You'd learned how to do all of that stuff without ever having been asked.

Eddie wants to marry you so badly it's a physical ache.

Which is why he's as scared as he is to ask her about it.

"Roan?" he calls, stretched out over the couch with a coke can on his chest. Moping, maybe.

"What?" she calls back, voice littler still because of the distance.

"Are you busy?"

He hears the tap running and then she appears, water dripping down to her wrists. Eddie swaps her for the coke can, rubbing her wet hands dry with the excess fabric of his shirt.

She sits on his stomach. She's incredibly big and small at the same time.

"What, dad?"

"I got something to ask you."

Roan squirms until Eddie brings his legs up to let her lean against his thighs like a chair.

"It's a big question," he says tentatively.

Roan crosses her arms in front of her, hands on his stomach. "Like, big as you?"

"Right. Super big."

She nods thoughtfully before flashing a huge, charming smile. "Okay."

Eddie lifts his hands to her small face, tucking her freshly shorn locks behind her ears. Long hair like daddy had been a good idea in theory, but she just can't stand all the fuss of it.

"I'm asking because... You're five now. And I know you have lots of big feelings. I wanna know what you think about-" He doesn't chicken out, per se, more like opens softly midway through. "Uh, how you feel about Y/N."

Roan wrinkles her nose. "I love her."

"I know you do. And you don't mind that she spends so much time here?"

Again, Roan looks perplexed. How many times has she cried now because she wants to see you and you're busy? How many times has Eddie told her you can't spend all your time here? It probably doesn't make much sense to her that he'd be asking.

"No. I wanted her for my princess party after and you said no."

He grins ruefully. "I didn't say no, babe. She couldn't come because she's at her own house tonight."

"Why can't she be at our house?"

Brilliant question.

"She has stuff to do." Like make sure moths haven't eaten your clothes. And dust.

You don't really spend a lot of time there.

Roan harrumphs. "Whatever. Why can't we go to her house, then?"

He takes Roan's hands into his and toys with her smaller fingers. "I can't really explain it. But you like when she's here all the time?"

"Yeah," Roan says, clearly bored of this conversation.

He laughs under his breath and steels himself for a bunch of huge questions.

"You know I love you more than anybody else?" he asks.

"I love you more," she argues.

"No, like. Out of everybody in the world, I love you the most. I could love Uncle Wayne the most, but I love you the most." Sorry, Wayne.

And while Eddie loves you so much (and Wayne, of course), it's the truth. You're always gonna be that tiny fraction below, though Eddie's not sure he likes the word below. It's a different kind of love, regardless.

Roan seems really, really happy with this prospect. She giggles for a second and throws her arms out toward him, face landing perfectly under his chin.

"I love you, daddy," she says. She manages to sound both shy and exuberant, little face digging into his collar. "I would pick you out of the world too."

"You would?" he asks. Eddie's not too proud to admit he wells up. He laughs it off, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he can.

"You first. Um, and Uncle Wayne and Y/N and damnation and Stacey P. second most."

"Damnation your imaginary dog is on the same level as Uncle Wayne and Y/N?" he asks, laughing hard enough to shake under her hug.

"Dad!"

"Sorry. Your totally real and invisible dog."

"Well, maybe not as much as Uncle Wayne and Y/N."

"No, I thought so."

She hides her hands inside of his short sleeves. Eddie lets her get on with it, happy and honestly buffeted by her affection. He feels both the euphoria of having a great kid and the self-satifaction of a parenting win.

"Do you think Y/N loves me that much?" Roan asks. "In the world?"

"Yes," he says without hesitation. "Of course she does."

"Mm," Roan hums, pleased. "I miss her."

"If I ask you my really big question, maybe we can go see her afterward. But it's- it's a big question, Roanie, I mean it. And it's okay if you don't know the answer, or if you feel mad or angry first."

Roan looks very concerned, climbing up on his chest to giggle at him. "Ast me, dad."

He blows her hair out of her eyes with a breath from the corner of his mouth. Heart in his throat, he grabs a hold of her waist in one hand and tries.

"I want to ask Y/N to marry me."

She blinks.

"I don't know if she'll say yes, but if she does that means lots of things would change. We would live together, and we'd maybe not live so close to Uncle Wayne, I'm not sure. Do you know what I mean?"

Roan leans forward. "Marry in a wedding?"

"Yeah. A big wedding. Or actually maybe a little one. I haven't really asked. Roan..."

He drifts off, distracted by her lovely tiny face growing more and more excited by the second.

"She would-"

"She would be my mom?" Roan shouts, eyes wide with a blazing amusement. "She would be my mommy?"

"Sweetheart," Eddie says apprehensively, "I'm not sure-"

"Oh my god," Roan says, already climbing off of his chest.

"Roan, I really need to finish talking to you," he says, listening to her sprint away in defeat. He rubs his eyes for a second, stressed, though slowly he starts to smile.

That's a good reaction.

That's a great reaction.

"Roan, if we get married, that means more- It means a lot of things," he calls, struggling to keep the smile out if his voice as he gets onto his feet to track her down.

"Yeah!" Roan calls.

Eddie walks down the hall and finds her in the middle of her room, backpack in the middle of her floor and upheaved. She's crammed three different teddies inside and a mismatched pair of pajamas, and now seems to be deciding between her pens or her long crayons.

"Babe, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting my stuff!"

He bites back a ridiculous smile. "For what?"

"You said we'd ask the question and go see Y/N," she whines, expecting a rejection.

"I didn't ask my question yet."

Roan shoves her crayons into her backpack and stares at him expectantly, a frenzy of ringlets and a palpable excitement.

He feels suddenly sheepish. "So can I... Is that okay? If I ask her to get married?"

Roan starts laughing like a maniac, the smallest, most intense vestibule of joy that's ever existed. "Dad, I need my shoes."

"No, but you can't tell her! It's a secret!" he warns seriously.

"You said we could go!"

He looks down at his girl. She's frenetic, jumping on both feet with her hands bunched into fists like she's willing to fight him for this. She wants to see you so badly now she's practically vibrating.

"Alright. Alright, come on. Let's get your shoes on."

Roan screams and runs past him, almost barrelling him down. He picks up her backpack and zips it closed, standing in the middle of her room for a few private seconds.

"Holy shit," he whispers.

"Dad!"

"I'm coming, Roan," he says, closing the door behind him.

-

more eddie and roan

[sugarsfics]

“If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle”

“If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle” 

Summary: Eddie invites you over for a movie night. Movie night is in his room. The only place to sit is his bed. His bed is small 

Trope: Eddie x shy!reader; friends to lovers 

Warning: use of y/n 

30 day challenge: Day 7 Send Request <3 

For the past hour Eddie has been running around the trailer making sure everything was perfect. Why? Because you are coming over, his crush is coming over. He has been crushing on you for a while. Every class he had with you he would find an excuse to talk to you, asking you for a pencil, piece of paper, answers, making a joke, anything to hear you talk or smile. That smile. The first time you smiled at him he was whipped, that smile made him smile, little did you know that when you turned to face the board you took his heart with you. You were very to yourself, only talking when spoken to, you had a small group of friends that he always saw you with. It took time but you eventually got comfortable with him, he was so grateful. P.E was one of your classes together before he sat on the bleachers alone looking at you, now you sit with him P.E became his favorite class. During that class he learned so much about you, this particular class you told him that you love the movie The Outsiders and how you have been waiting for it to be back in the video store. Eddie pulled so string, one of the workers he sells to works there so he told him he would give him a discount if he got the movie once the person returned it. So that brings you to now, he got the movie Monday, told you about Tuesday at school, then made plans to watch it together on Saturday. Since then he has been deep cleaning the trailer. Stressing out a girl is coming over, you are coming over.

You were just as stressed out as much as him. Everything seemed fine in theory of making of plans. But as Saturday came closer the bubblier your stomach got; you were going to Eddie’s house. Eddie what a beautiful man, you had a huge crush on him never in a million years did you think that he would talk to you let alone invite you his house to watch a movie. You triple checked your outfit, sat in front of your mirror in different positions making sure you looked good in all, brushed your teeth, took ten mints, and did everything you could think of to look pretty. When you felt decent you walked out quickly. You try to scurry pass your stepbrother room “Y/N” shit he saw you “Yes” “Where are you going” “out” “where” should you lie or tell him; lie he was way to over protective “To my friend's house” “Which one” think think “Alexis” she will cover for me “Are you going to stay the night” am I? What is going to happen tonight? Those bubble guts came back “I am not sure yet” “ok let me know” “will do Stevie” “Don’t call me that” Yea your stepbrother was Steve Harrington.  

You drove to Eddie’s trying to focus on the road, but your mind couldn’t stop racing. It was a little scary, but you zoned back in when you pulled into the trailer park, not sure how you made it here. Eddie heard a car pull up and quickly looked out the window and saw your sage green car, you said that it was a gift from your grandma when you were 16. He fixed his hair then opened the door for you “Welcome to my castle” he said “hi Eddie” you spoke. There was a small staring contest between you too then Eddie broke the silence “This way to my cave” he led you to his room. You were about to be in a guy's room you thought, she is about to be in my room he thought. “Um movie is in going to grab the popcorn anything to drink?” “Water please” you sounded so sweet and polite he would get you anything if you asked him “Got it make yourself at home” You stared at his bed for a few seconds it was small but there was no other place to sit, so you sat at the corner. He walked in a minute later and was freaking you are on his bed, he tried to hide his excitement and climb into his bed “You can come further in I won’t bite” he joked you crawled next to him didn’t make any eye contact, your bodies were so close together you felt his warmth. Even being so close, your leg was falling off the bed, you tried not to think about how uncomfortable this was going to be. Eddie saw your leg he wanted to grab it a pull it close pull you close, "If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle” Eddie said where did that courage come from “are- are you sure” “Yea I don’t need you falling off” he opened his arms. Your heart started beating fast, there were so many firsts today already and now you are going to be in his arms. Your body didn’t know how to react so you slowing lied on him, he chuckled. As the movie played you slowly melted into him. The movie ended but neither of you moved, if anything you are scooting closer together. Eddie turned you to face him “Hi” “Hi” you giggled “This is nice” “Yea” “Maybe this could be a regular thing” “What do you mean” you asked “Saturday could be movie date nights” “Date? Was this a date” “It could be if you want it to be” there was silence again he thought he messed up “I have never been on a date before” you said shyly “Me either, tonight was a lot of my first” “Me too” you grinned at him. “You were a lot of my firsts” he continued “How” “Well the first girl to come to my house, first girl to be in my bed, first girl I cuddled with” He intertwined your hand together “This is my first time holding a girl's hand and this is my first kiss” he leaned in you met in the middle fireworks explode all around you. He pulled away but you brought him closer “Sorry I um I really liked that” he pecked your lips “So did I” He put on another movie, but you feel asleep “first girl to sleep with me” he laughed cuddling into you more than falling asleep himself . You were awoken by banging on the door. You and Eddie did not want to leave each other’s arms, but it only got louder. “Stay here” he kissed your forehead. He opened the door to a pissed off Steve “Harrington?” “Munson?” “What are you doing here” “Why is my sister's car in your lawn” “Sister?!” 

Tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh let me know if you want to be added

[aphrogeneias]

sympathy for the devil — one-shot

pairing: vampire!eddie munson x slayer!reader x werewolf!steve harrington

summary: during a normal night of your slayer duties, a familiar pair pays you a visit.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut (+18), graveyard sex, semi-public sex, threesome, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, praise and degradation, slight choking, eddie is a little mean.

author's note: this was written for the prompt "vampires and werewolves" of my 2023 kinktober entries list. i hope you enjoy it! this au will be expanded in the future.

The fascinating thing about cemeteries at night is not the haunting atmosphere, or the shadows made by the architecture, nor is it the art gracing the stone walls of the tombs and crypts. It’s the sound of the wind coursing through empty corridors between the gravestones, like a low and ever present symphony, a calming presence throughout the night.

On a slow, autumn night, you find it almost comforting. While you sit on top of one of the many tall tombs, clutching on your fluffy coat sleeves to keep you warm, the air current resonates around you and keeps your senses focused. The heavy crossbow strapped to your back does the rest.

A Slayer’s night life is much more interesting in theory. In reality, it requires a lot of planning, sitting and waiting, and it has been your routine since the tender age of fifteen - it got awfully boring sometimes. The dark of the night and the creatures that dwelled in it did not scare you anymore. You’re the one they should be scared of.

Not that there’s anything to scare tonight, except for the occasional roach roaming the ground and startling you whenever you catch a glimpse of them. Are Vampire Slayers allowed to fear insects?

Please, don’t tell anyone.

A rustling in the grass catches your attention. It’s approaching fast and steady, therefore it means one of two things: either a normal human who has nothing better to do on a tuesday night, or something else looking for trouble. You know it’s not a new vampire — the ones you were waiting for this evening — because the newly undead are slow and confused when fresh out of the grave. These heavy steps were already right behind you.

You jump out of the tomb, fast reflexes whipping out your crossbow and promptly aiming at your unknown target. As a warning, for now. You aren’t the shoot first, ask questions later kind of girl.

At the sight of you — chin raised, eyes fierce, crossbow at the ready — the target in question smiles. Full on, white teeth and sharp fangs. 

“Missed me?”

The sight makes your knees weak, and not in a good way.

“What are you doing here?”

Eddie Munson looks exactly like he did when he crawled out of whatever hell hole he fell in 1986. Not that you know from experience, you weren't there, but it was obvious. The messy, shaggy hair cut, unruly curls you regrettably dreamed of pulling on again. All the leather, latex and spikes, the a-little-too-tight denim. The devil may care attitude that may have outcasted him one day, now just more of a nuisance than anything.

Despite his carefreeness, you'd seen his scars. He didn't go down without a fight, and whoever sired him wasn't just a regular vampire. It reeked of something far more sinister than what you were used to.

Maybe that's why you'd grown soft on him.

He shrugs. "We were in town. Thought we'd pay a visit to our favorite girl."

You're yet to see the other person Eddie was referring to, but make no mention of it. It's less complicated this way — after numerous encounters with Eddie, you learned that it's better to speak less, lest he uses what you said against you.

When you don't respond, he merely steps closer. His head tilts to the side, curls falling down his shoulder. There's a small lift to the corner of his lips. Asshole. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Happy is an overstatement. Just glad you're here and not wreaking havoc somewhere else."

Eddie chuckled, deep in his throat. You can't deny the effect it has on you. "Are you gonna watch over me? Keep vigil? I could think of better ways to spend our time."

"I could kill you." There is no conviction in your voice, but your eyes remain harsh and your face guarded. “Stake to the heart, problem solved.”

There is, however, a lot of conviction in Eddie's. “You wouldn’t.” In defiance, he draws closer and closer to you, the wooden tip of the arrow triggered in your crossbow digging into his chest, but not hard enough to break through. Despite yourself, you lower your weapon little by little, until it lays useless between the two of you.

“You would miss me too much.” The vampire’s low voice right below your ear, his chest now brushing yours. You hope he can’t hear your growing faster by the second, like a hummingbird stuck inside your ribcage, but you know it’s too late for that. His lips touch your earlobe with every word uttered. “Besides, if you kill me, then who’s gonna make you cum like I do?” 

Another voice comes from behind you, startling your already withered nerves. "I don't know. I think I could handle that on my own just fine." 

There he is.

Steve Harrington isn't usually as much of a thorn on your side as his partner is. You'd met him in high school, almost a decade ago. Rich parents, cute girlfriend, royalty status — he disappeared one cold October night after your graduation and returned with an excessively hairy problem every full moon.

He doesn't look like the stereotypical werewolf. Clean cut, polo shirts and pressed jeans. His luscious hair always coiffed to perfection. Some things never change.

You're not sure how or when they've met, but Eddie had been a problem since before you took the mantle of the Slayer, a local legend and an overall menace. He'd show up, make a mess and you were there to pick up the pieces, every time.

Eddie took advantage of your soft heart, and used it to toy with you. Play with his food, in his own words. You hate it when he says that, but you can't help but agree deep down. You've been his — their — plaything one too many times, and this time looked no different.

You turn around slowly, crossbow forgotten at your feet. "I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

Eddie leans closer to you, chest to your back. He's cold, but you feel the sleek fabric of his leather jacket through your coat. "So, you missed him, but not me?"

"Didn't say that." You roll your eyes, always impatient around him, even as he runs his nose over your pulse point, going against your every rule, every survival instinct. "It's just that, these days, where there's one, there's the other."

Steve is in front of you in a moment, caging you between them. "And we're here just for you." Caramel eyes with a tinge of yellow smile at you, his nose brushing yours. 

It hasn't been that long since the last time you've seen them. Now, between them again, flashbacks of a late night in your room, the open window welcoming the night air in as they took you, shadows dancing on the walls of your bedroom.

"Aren't you two sweet?" You mock them. Though your breathing has picked up and you know they could hear just how fast your heart is beating, the faux sweet tone of your voice drips with venom. "What are you really doing here? I don't have all night."

"She doesn't believe us, Steve. What will it take to convince her?" Eddie's deep voice strokes something inside of you. At the same time, his hands travel under your coat, to the slope of your waist, keeping you rooted in place.

"You know what it takes." Steve's hands, warm in contrast with Eddie's cold ones, wander under your breasts, then down to your jeans, settling on pulling you by the belt loops. "Touch her the right way and she'll stop fooling herself."

"Fooling myself?" Your arms are still limp by your sides, but their hands keep moving, igniting your body.

"I know you want this, sweetheart. You know it too, but you keep fighting it like this is the first time all over again." Eddie is practically purring behind you, "Let go. Let us take care of you."

You don't get to answer. Steve's lips are on yours, and your bodies are moving in sync, like a choreographed dance. You know each other's moves, each other's cues, what makes the other tick. Eddie is running his mouth across the expanse of your neck, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin under your ear, and down between your neck and shoulder.

It makes you pull on Steve's hair harder and in turn, he moans into your mouth, but doesn't stop kissing you. That's until you feel Eddie's sharp teeth dragging on the skin of your neck, not hard enough to break it, but enough to make every nerve stand in attention.

"Eddie," you whisper, strength slipping through your fingers at every touch of the vampire behind you, "no biting, please."

He chuckles, "Someday you're gonna admit you want this."

Steve nuzzles your cheek with his nose, "Eds, let her be."

"She knows it's gonna feel as good for her as it would for me." He turns you around, away from Steve's arms into his, "But that's okay, I can wait."

The kiss he leaves on your lips is an uncharacteristically sweet one. "I still need a taste of you, though."

Lost in his voice, in the smell of cologne and the cigarettes you don't know why he insists in smoking, in the flash of red in his deep brown eyes — predator luring in their prey — you feel yourself being manhandled by four hands, laying you down the elevated tomb you were previously sitting on.

You let go.

You let go like the last time, and the time before that. You've denied yourself too many things before, but this is yours, and as conflicted as you feel, it still feels good.

It feels good when Eddie lays you down, the cold of the stone beneath you giving way to the scorching hot feeling taking over your insides, the tingle on your lower tummy when he removes your jeans along with your underwear. 

"You're cute when you're all docile like this, y'know?" He's kissing up your thighs, leaving a trail of spit to the crease of your hip, almost where you need him the most. "Cute, little Slayer, on her back for me."

"Fuck you, Munson." You bite back.

"I'm trying to, baby. Will you let me?" Another kiss is laid to your mound, just above your clit. You let out a shaky breath, vaguely aware of Steve standing just beside you.

"Just get over with it." You mumble through your teeth.

Eddie doesn't waste time. His rough hands are cold on your thighs, keeping then spread open, but his tongue is wet and soft, delivering long licks from your entrance to your clit, flattening his tongue on it. He alternates between licking and sucking, slurping on it, like the slick that it's pouring from your pussy feeds him just as well as your blood would.

Bucking your hips into his face, you whine to the skies above you. Looking to your side, you reach out for Steve, who watches you with haze filled eyes. It's a wordless conversation — you reach for his belt, pulling him by it, and he helps you unfasten it. 

He's hard when you pull him out of his boxers, and the size of it never ceases to impress you. Steve pumps his length in his hand as he watches Eddie eat you out, his partner moaning into your pussy and making you moan in turn. "Take your time, honey."

You do. When his hips are right in front of your face, you start by giving kitten licks to his head, and taking it in your mouth to suck on it. Steve blushes a pretty pink, and there's the yellow flash in his eyes again, glimmering in the night.

It's a push and pull between the three of you. You take Steve in your mouth, inch by inch as Eddie feasts on your pussy, taking a minute to lift your shirt up, but still leaving your coat on. You're practically bare, Eddie's hands wandering over your body, tugging and pulling on your tender flesh, as you gag on Steve's cock.

Deep down, you wonder what someone would think if they wandered in on you like this. Deep down, you can't bring yourself to care.

"Look at what a good girl you can be. You just choose not to." Eddie coos from between your legs, just before sucking your clit between his plush lips, making you cry out. "You want to be a good girl for us. You fucking love it."

"Don't fight it, baby." Steve's voice is wrecked, but the movements of his hips don't falter. You feel him twitch deep within your throat. "Fuck, you're making me feel so good. Your mouth is heaven."

"This pussy is heaven too. Can't believe you want to deny me this." Eddie complains, but still pleases you, two of his fingers curling inside of you as his mouth leaves you for a moment. "I'm going to hell anyway, the least you can do is give me what I want."

If you had your mouth free, you would think of something clever to say — but you couldn't, because his long fingers felt too good against the spot that your toes curl and your eyes blur, and his mouth is back to assaulting your clit with quick flicks of his tongue.

You want to warn that you're close, but you can't, because Steve is pulling your hair and coming in your mouth as you suck him dry, the slurping noises spurring all three of you on. His moans cease as you swallow his spend, and his thumb comes to, almost too tenderly, wipe the rest that spills down your chin.

Your eyes plead to him, and Steve says, "Eds, I think she's close."

"Then cum, sweetheart. You can cum, it's okay. Let me have it."

It feels like you're exploding when he delivers on final, long suck to your sensitive, puffy clit. A silent scream comes from your opened mouth, lips forming a perfect 'o'. Your thighs lay limp on each side of Eddie, and he makes his way up your torso. Steve pulls himself into his pants again, and leans down too. They're each watching you with something strange in their gaze, too soft for the lust that permeates you, the smell of sex strong and vibrant still.

"Can we… can we go back to my place, please?" You plead when you regain your voice. "Anyone can see us here."

"Now, what's the fun in that, little Slayer? Scared that they'll see how much of an obedient slut you are for us?"

"You're the obedient slut, Munson."

His hand goes to your neck and squeezes. "We'll see about that."

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 17

This is the last chapter of this story. I do have the sequel halfway written and it will be most of the way, if not all the way done before I post the first chapter.

It's called "Everything I Ever Wanted" and will be four chapters, each based on a part of Steve's new life I wanted to highlight. Retirement, Steve's charity, the bonding and mating, and the birth of their first child and the fallout with his parents.

I will still keep the Glitters tag list for the sequel. I wouldn't normally, but it's such a little thing, it's just easier that way. If you want to be taken off the list for the sequel, let me know.

Here is Steve's happily ever after. As it should be.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

****

Steve hated his heats before, but he loathed them now. Now he had an alpha he wanted to share it with, only they weren’t allowed to.

It was only a mini heat to clear out a minor faux bond and would barely last twenty four hours, but they would be the most miserable twenty four hours of his life and that included the twenty four hours after he learned he was infertile.

But Robin was the best handler in the business for a reason. The second his body temperature spiked, Xander and her got Eddie out and into her apartment, still in rut as he was.

Then she rebuilt Steve’s nest from scratch to perfection with the minor edition of Eddie’s handkerchief under his pillow.

The handkerchief plus, Eddie’s scent still sending out waves toward Steve’s apartment would help mitigate the absolute misery he would be in, but he still hated it.

Once all traces of the heat were out of his system, and his temperature going back to normal was Steve allowed visitors. Not even Robin was allowed inside his bedroom during his heats.

Though that was mainly because the poor omega was so pitiful and crying that a lot of handlers would be emotional wrecks afterwards.

Robin had made the mistake once when a heat came a week early due to some stress that was happening in Steve’s life and she was a sobbing mess the whole time he was in heat.

No one knew why the sight of an omega in heat drove betas to such an extreme emotional response, but the prevailing theory was that it was an evolutionary throw back to the pre-historic era so that betas would be moved to not take advantage of the omega in their most vulnerable time.

He showered and stepped out to his front room and smiled. Robin and Eddie were on the sofa waiting for him.

“Hey, princess,” Eddie murmured. “How are you feeling?”

Steve groaned and flopped down on the seat between the two of them. “Like I’ve been run over. The mini heats are the worst. Because you can’t prepare for them.”

“Especially since that was his first mini heat,” Robin commented dryly, “that automatically makes it worse.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t usually get mini heats?”

“Nope!” Steve said, popping the P. “Robin carefully curates my clients so that it’s never happened. I’ve experienced faux bonds before, the chemical bonding of scents instead of an actual bite bond. Those are common enough. But no, no mini heats for me.”

Eddie looked over at Robin who looked smug.

“Well that’s good then,” he said.

Steve nodded. He chewed on his lower lip and sighed. “I think we need to talk about the golden omega thing. It’s not possible, right?”

Robin and Eddie raised their eyebrows.

“Stevie,” Eddie said gently, “not only is it possible, it’s highly probable.”

Steve looked over at Robin and she nodded.

“Wait, what?”

“You don’t have to do anything about it now,” Robin said. “As long as you are a Starcourt escort you’ll spend your heats alone. And then if you want to get bonded to Eddie and have pups with him, walk away from the job and then mate.”

Steve went stock still as he mulled it over in his mind. Eddie and Robin exchanged concerned glances but stayed silent as Steve’s entire world view was shifted on its axis.

Starcourt had always treated Steve like he was special. It was one of the reasons his cherry popping was such a major event. His parents had sneered at the whole experience, but the agency had gone out of their way to make Steve feel safe in the process.

But to be a golden omega for real? And not just because Eddie wanted him to be special. Not that Eddie didn’t already think he was special, but this would cement how special Steve actually was.

He knew his parents would immediately come out of the woodwork to claim more money for being a golden omega, but it would also be the sweetest justice imaginable.

Because they could have gotten more from Steve’s omegahood and chose to throw him away like he didn’t matter. Only coming back when they needed more money.

“Explain it to me,” he whispered.

And they did. Robin leading the way with Eddie filling in spots where he thought Steve needed more clarity. When they were done Steve looked at Robin and said with tears in his eyes, “If I retire do I lose you?”

Robin’s lip quivered and she got up on her knees. She gently took Steve’s face in her hands. “No. Absolutely not. Yes, an omega escort has to be a handler’s top priority, but you are my best friend. My platonic soulmate, you’d have to murder me to get me to leave you. Do you understand?”

Steve nodded and then threw himself into her arms. Having to choose between the love of his life and his best friend would have been the hardest thing he would have ever had to do. But this made it easy.

They talked about it for a bit and ultimately it was decided Steve would retire when he turned thirty. It would give him a couple more years do a job he loved, but still give Eddie and him plenty of time to have pups.

“That’s a perfect solution,” Eddie agreed. “And I think the band will agree to a couple years break making music so we can all focus on our family lives.”

Steve’s omega chirped happily. Eddie chuckled and pulled him onto his lap. He nuzzled Steve’s scent gland and the omega chirped again.

“Look at you,” Robin said happily. “All content and comfortable. You just got every thing you could ever want, you lucky bastard.”

Steve grinned at her. “I am so blessed.”

Eddie blew a raspberry under Steve’s ear causing him to giggle.

“Eddie!” he protested, trying to push the alpha away, but Eddie did it again, this time on his cheek.

Soon they were wrestling and Steve ended up on the floor, looking up at a surprised Eddie.

“Rude,” Steve huffed as he got to his feet.

“Oops!”

Robin shook her head.

Eddie brought out Steve’s silly side and Steve let Eddie be himself. Apparently the universe knew what it was doing after all with these two.

****

The next three years passed by in a blur.

Chrissy had become the star Steve always knew she was. But of course, that meant her ex-boyfriend and her mother found out about her leaving the convent.

Steve was actually there to witness their faces, purple with rage showing up at some event she was at. The alpha actress she was with had to call security to get them removed.

Chrissy released a statement through the agency that spoke of her love of the job, the religious abuse her mother had put her through, and the love she thought was eternal with Jason turning to ash when she found out she couldn’t bear his children.

She spoke of the love that the sisters had shown her when her mother had dropped her off at the convent against the wishes of her father and her own. About how half of her cherry price went to those same sisters who had protected her from the wrath of her mother for years.

She spoke about how she found her people with Starcourt Services. How she had good friends, made good money, and how her father had supported her every step of the way. And how the other half of her cherry price would always be waiting for her if she ever wanted to leave. Something that after some serious soul searching she knew would not be for a long, long time.

Chrissy’s story burst open a scandal that had been the Church’s best kept secret, that a third of the omegas that came to them after learning they were infertile were brought there against their will by religious extremist parents not wanting their omega child to live their own lives.

Max and Lucas finally announced they were bonding after Lucas played his first game in the NBA as the first omega point guard for the Indiana Pacers, having won their law suit.

With Steve retiring, Robin was going to be Chrissy’s handler. Robin hadn’t lasted with Vickie due to them wanting different things out of life. Robin loved her job, but Vickie wanted more of her time to be focused just on her, something Robin wasn’t willing to do.

Tommy had been kicked out of the agency after he had a very public fight with his ex-girlfriend, Carol. He was supposed to be escorting Billy Hargrove but had found him in a bathroom with known omega starlet, Heather Holloway, his dick in her.

Carol had thrown it in his face that he couldn’t even get wandering Billy Hargrove to stay still long enough. Tommy had thrown hands and Starcourt had thrown him out.

Last Steve heard he was working as a pre-school teacher, barely making a tenth the amount he was at Starcourt. But he had found an alpha and they were happy together, satisfied for the first time in his life.

Jonathan was pregnant with Nancy and his second child. Steve was actually happy for them when they announced it.

Eddie’s band was topping the charts and had done a couple of tours. Steve had missed him, but with work keeping him busy, they were able to keep up a healthy communication.

Elinor and Gareth had decided to bond. Elinor knew that she would never reach the heights of Steve or Chrissy so when the last of her cherry price had been paid, she left the agency to be a rockstar’s wife.

Steve couldn’t wait to spend his first heat with Eddie. What was even better was the fact that Eddie’s rut had synced up with Steve’s heat and everyone knew to stay away for that week.

Their bonding and wedding ceremony was the talk of the town, Steve and Eddie surrounded by all their friends and loved ones. The whole Party was there.

Steve had taken preemptive measures against his parents, knowing that they would try and get more money from him, once Eddie and Steve announced that they had gotten pregnant.

He had a protective order ready to spring into affect the moment they tried anything. Lawyers on speed dial, and security on standby.

He had the life he had always dreamed of. A soulmate who would bond him and give him the pups he so desperately desired, who loved and cared for him like no one in his life could match. Robin came close. Because of course she did. Maybe not more or less than Eddie, but different.

And when that first little one came to loving and adoring parents, Steve knew that regardless if Dustin was omega, alpha, beta, or infertile Eddie and Steve would love him and support him no matter where he chose to go in life.

And that was the perfect ending to Steve’s story, he thought. Eddie couldn’t help but agree.

****

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[eddiezpaghetti]

Okay, so my experience with Stranger Things is a weird one.

I didn't care when it first came out, started to watch it out of "might as well" in 2020, wasn't interested in it enough to make it past S2, forgot about it outside of going "oh, hey, cool, there's a lesbian in it now, I guess," in S3, got really annoyed when "Running Up That Hill" got popular from it because it was a song I listened to on fucking loop after one of my best friends died in high school and I fully expected its appearance in the show to ignore the whole survivor's guilt theme of the song (and was very happy to learn later that it did the exact opposite of ignoring the lyrics), saw people drawing Eddie, suddenly got a lot more interested, watched just the fourth season like a fucking psychopath because I was seriously only there for Eddie, then got interested enough to start the show over properly, having mostly forgotten what I did watch of the show before.

And let me tell you something from the perspective of someone who started with the complete fourth season, who wasn't there from the start, who wasn't tainted by ship goggles or this internal battle of hope and despair, who wasn't theorizing about what the painting could be or expecting Mike and Will to kiss when Volume 2 happened or rooting for Mike and Eleven's relationship to go down in flames or whatever the fuck. Just someone who went blind into Season 4.

It's really fucking obvious that Will and Mike are gonna be endgame.

Like holy fuck. It's so fucking blatant I don't even know why people are nervous.

No sane fucking person would shoot this scene this way if they wanted the audience to care about El and Mike as a couple. Despite being all blurry in the background, Will's reaction to what's happening here is smackdab in the fucking middle, clearly showing that the important part is what's going through his head here. What he's feeling. It's like the opposite of that scene from Kingdom Hearts II where Sora and Riku reunite and Kairi just fucking vanishes into the aether while it's happening because, despite the fact that she was standing between them when the scene began, she doesn't matter to the scene, so she's just kind of gone when the camera angle changes. Will could have been behind one of their heads, or so far in the distance he blends in with the background, but he's not. He's so obvious that despite being massively blurred out, he's still the first goddamn thing you look at. What, you think that's an accident? You think he's in the middle of this dramatic fucking scene because of a mistake? He basically has a big flashing neon arrow pointing at him with "THIS IS THE POINT" being screamed through a megaphone.

And then this?

They're paired up like they're taking fucking prom pictures. Each one of these pairs is so fucking close to one another and so fucking far from everyone else. It's not, "Oh, they're standing vaguely near each other in a group shot," it's fucking Noah's Ark out here. Again, there's no way to take this as an accident. It's not just a framing issue. If they wanted to make the shot look balanced while still not hiding anyone else behind El, they would have scattered people around much more naturally. Even if they wanted to keep Nancy with Jonathan and Hopper with Joyce, there's so much room on that hill for three people to stand on El's left and three on her right. But they didn't do that. They put Mike and Will together on purpose in the most obvious way possible.

Like I get that coming up with crackpot theories is fun in and of itself and I'm not blaming anyone for having fun. I totally get the appeal of arguing a point and reaching for every stupid little thing to pull into it because it's like a game, okay? I've done that. But if you're trying to actually convince someone (whether it's someone who wants to believe or someone who's pissed at the very idea that Mike and Will could be in love), stay away from blue and yellow lights, stay away from costume design, stay away from the existence of closets in backgrounds. And don't worry about whether Mike's gay or bi when he's in love with Will either way. I'll give you a little tip about persuasion: You're only as strong as your weakest argument. Even if you've got strong stuff in there, too, the person you're trying to convince is going to dismiss anything you say as complete insanity the second you start going on an entire tangent about the shape of a character's fucking pocket.

Sometimes, clothes are just clothes. Sometimes, there's a closet in the background because it helps establish that a character is in a bedroom. Sometimes, blue and yellow are just a couple of colors that look nice together. And sure, it might be set designers and costume designers and cinematographers smirking and winking at the audience from behind the camera. But if the show was just those things, instead of those things in the context of everything else, they wouldn't be saying anything of note.

But this?

This tells a story all on its own. Someone with no context can look at this and automatically assume that each paired person is standing with someone they care about deeply, seeking comfort as they watch some sort of disaster unfold. And yeah, romantic couples usually come in twos, and we live in an amatonormative society, so that's going to be the first association anyone makes seeing a bunch of people paired off.

It's the same reason you look at this

And go, "Oh..."

"Those two are probably a couple."

And I genuinely don't understand how people could have watched S4 Vol. 2 and gotten scared. Because as someone who went in with no investment whatsoever, I just looked at these two--

--and went, "Oh, those two are a couple. Good for them." And I moved on. Shut up about the trees for five seconds and just see the forest for what it is.

Oh, and if you're still nervous? Little thing from a storyteller here: You don't leave a hanging thread like "Will confessed his romantic feelings for Mike by projecting them onto El, but Mike either didn't understand or at least didn't say he understood," without coming back to that later. That's Chekov's gun hanging on the wall, babes. It's gonna fire at some point. If Mike was going to reject Will's feelings, if they weren't relevant, they would have had that discussion in Argyle's van. There'd be no reason to leave you in suspense.

[the-nosy-neighbor]

Sally's Pedrolino (part 3 of pedrolino theory)

First of all, Sally is dressed as Pierrot, not Pedrolino. (See the other pedrolino posts for the reasons and a history of the character)

Cone hat, ruff, big fluffy button detail. Her hat and the makeup and ruff are all traditional Pierrot costuming. It’s interesting that she chose the costume of a character that is closely associated with the moon, when she is supposed to be either a star, descended from a star, or a fallen star.

It appears that I’m not the first to wonder about Sally’s link to Pedrolino:

https://thecolourfulkingdom.tumblr.com/post/731153175684546560/importance-of-pedrolino

I really like that detail about there being “9 visible neighbors.” That might shoot a hole in my tower as a character theory. However, Colorful Kingdom does mention that same moon imagery that you find with Sally, something I have discussed before:

There is plenty here to be making a case that Something about Sally’s character is related more specifically to the moon. The images of Sally with one eye closed really makes me think that there is a duality to Sally during day/night. Part of the reason is the sun/moon on the door, but is also because of the clock concept art, dividing the clock into day and night involving open and shut eyes and different colored eyelids.

In the HH book/record, Sally introduces the concept of what happens at night in the neighborhood.

“It is looking for neighbors who are outside out past the daytime to gobble them up whole. That is why so few live here.

It moves through the streets at night, but it doesn't break into homes. However, on rare instances, it will find itself with an appetite, but unsatisfied by its aimless wandering. Even the occasional, unfortunate insect that has crossed its path is not enough.

Those who have lived through the night say it isn't quiet about it either. They always say you can hear when it gets closer to you. Do you know what sound it makes? I hear it every night. You can hear it too, if you listen. Especially if you wait next to your window.

First, there's rustling in the bushes. Then, the scratching on the pavement, on the walls as it crawls up. Finally, if you're quiet, you can hear its guttural sound.”

So, an actual creepy story where we learn that Sally has created this scary story for the neighbors, or an actual creepy thing that happens at night. It could potentially be a story meant to keep the neighbors inside, but for what reason? This could also be an attempt to explain missing neighbors or why the neighborhood is so small.

In my post about clocks, I go into this in more detail, but there is a definite dichotomy between the ideas of sun/star and moon, and the only timepiece to survive, Eddie’s watch, is clearly delineated between day and night.

This makes me think that there is something out there at night. I’ve also discussed in that post hints that we have gotten that there are people missing from the neighborhood:

• Where is Mama Beagle? (I know we saw her for Homewarming, but I’m not sure if that is current)

• Where are Julie’s siblings? They were important enough to have their own art in a book.

• “Nine visible neighbors” So are they invisible or no longer with us?

• Sunny was an original character and is no longer in the group. Perhaps we lost Sunny in an in-universe way, as opposed to written out.• Sally’s home and early buttons reference a sun and a moon

• This image has those buttons I was talking about.

This feels so much like Sally pointing directly at it and telling us that we are missing what happens at night. She really identifies the night beast’s actions and feelings too.

Have we seen anything that brings attention to the time and going home?

New idea, in terms of Eddie. “9 visible neighbors” could also lead to the idea that some are buried.

This picture is something I’ve shared before:

And this image has both Eddie and Sally. Hmm. Anyway, this is the item that is labeled what looks like “D” but with other letters mashed on top of it. There was obviously something missing here, so playing around, I was able to find this image. At first, I was convinced that this was some kind of Moonheaded man, the waxing gibbous type.

Now, though, I’m more of the mind that this is Sunny. Sally replaced Sunny, and Sunny is blue/teal. She is called a star, but I think her look is much more like how children draw the sun (which is a star).

He feels too bright to be the moon, and also, too green to be considered blue.

Also, the moon does not produce light. It is reflected sunlight. https://science.nasa.gov/moon/moonlight/ That makes it even more interesting to think that Sally is both, because she is producing the light, but it is also reflecting in another character that is connected with the moon?

What we know:

• Sally chose Pedrolino as a costume, despite Harlequinn (Arleccino) being the much more recognizeable character

(and I think you could argue the more fun, as Harlequin usually comes out on top and doesn't have the seriousness that Pedrolino does.)

Sally chose to wear a costume that belongs to a later iteration of the character. Either Sally is not as knowledgeable as she seems, or there is another reason for this. (Though Eddie recognizes it as Pedrolino, not Pierrot, from his book.)

I think when considering this difference, the author's/team's possible motivations have/has to be important.

• Pierrot is associated with the moon, specifically responding to the changes to the moon with changes in behavior

• Pierrot is focused on love, and the expression of the moon’s influence can be mental illness, but could also be a lovey dovey dopey experience (the word lunacy/lunatic comes from the belief that changes in the moon could make someone act insane)

• Sally has definite associations with the moon, with repeated symbols telling us that she is associated with the sun and the moon.

• The moon’s light is reflected from the sun

• Not discussed, but in pre-website lore, Poppy and Sally are an item.

• Sally is a singer, so are later versions of Pierrot

There is a female version of Pierrot, Pierrette. As little as most people know about this thing, Pierrette would be as good a character to choose as anyone.

• Pierrot is commonly known from the operatic (style?) performance, Pierrot Lunaire, which is a kind of anthology of music from the 1900’s. There may also be a separate opera, as you do see Pierrot as a role that a character plays in the Marx Brothers’ film, A Night at the Opera.

I think it is telling that Sally chose Pedrolino as opposed to Pierrot. She is dressed in a more classic Pierrot costume, but doesn’t have the lute and is not doing any kind of mime. You would expect Sally to get those details right, as a show offy theatre person (takes one to know one).

And why is Eddie the only other person to know what this is? He said he was reading about it in the post office. The only person we have seen with books (I think) is Frank. So does Eddie have book, did he get it from Frank. If so, where does Frank get his books? I think all of Franks books we have seen are about bugs. Is it a magical thinking kind of thing, or does Eddie bring books from our reality? Eddie delivers shipments to Howdy that we have seen, and Barnaby gets mail from outside the neighborhood, so are those from here or is it from some fictional location there?

All this to say, I do think that we can establish that this is giving us a strong hint about Sally's association with the moon and a potential importance of the day/night split and the nature of the neighborhood.

I am great at writing history, but less great at making the connections. I think there is still too much missing for me to make a reasonable guess as to what Sally's true nature is, but I definitely think that Sally's moon will make an appearance at some point and help us to understand what is happening in the neighborhood. I am confident that the moon will appear.

Since it has been useful to this point, a few notes from tv tropes.

God of the Moon--

Thus, fiction and mythology alike often personify it or associate it with a patron deity. Mirroring the moon's nature as a luminous body in a time of darkness, lunar deities can have complex relationships with the night and dark forces. On one hand, they may themselves be associated with darkness, the nighttime hours, and the things that dwell within them. On the other, they may instead be portrayed as standing against these things, providing safety and illumination during an otherwise dark and terrifying time and warding away the terrible things that lurk during the dark hours.

(required by law)

In personality, lunar deities are often portrayed as mercurial, changeable, and shifting, mirroring the constantly changing face of the moon itself. They also tend to be associated with cycles, such as the lunar phases and the tides. They may also have ties to madness, illusions, and mystery.

Under "Lunacy"

The Moon does things to people. Makes women crazy, drives the lunatics wild, or maybe is the external power source for some supernatural powers. The full Moon might bring out the monster in someone, or a new Moon may bring the human out of a monster. It may be tied to illusions, metamorphoses and inconstancy, mirroring the Moon's constantly cycling phases. In general, the Moon is often a catalyst in magical things.

"Night and Day Duo"

The elemental forces of day and night have always been considered polar opposites. The day, ruled by the sun, is bright and inviting. The night, ruled by the moon, is dark and often considered mysterious. It's no surprise that when two characters have abilities or traits based on these forces, they form a duo of Foils.

Despite their inherent differences, these characters usually form a team rather than fight in opposition. After all, keeping the balance is necessary in works that believe in The Sacred Darkness and Dark Is Not Evil. As such, this duo typically works together, even if it's just an Enemy Mine.

Share ideas about Sally and Pedrolino with me, and I'll update as ideas come in. I say Sally is Pierrot and Pedrolino is just a red herring to delay her association with the moon.

I might look at some other interactions between Sally and Eddie, as they seem to have a bit more to dig through.

[youmakemyhearthowl]

The first time Steve went with Robin to a gay bar in Indy, he got a lot of education on the queer community from a group of Drag Queens. They were so pleased to run into a straight man at a gay bar that was there to protect his lesbian best friend that they answered all of his questions he’d asked. Even if a few of them were pretty convinced Steve was some sort of queer and just hadn’t gotten around to figuring it out yet. 

The biggest thing that seemed to stand out to Steve was the hanky code. It was such a cool way to let yourself share this super secret part of yourself with the world without the dangers that actually sharing it would cause and Steve was enamored. 

One particular Drag Queen, Helen, knows most of what the different colors mean and Steve can’t stop himself from asking about every single one of them.

When they get back to Hawkins Steve feels truly educated and Robin just smirks knowingly at him as he rambles on about everything he learned. He’d told Robin a few weeks ago he thought he might also like guys but was still figuring everything out. Robin was just happy he was willing to learn, even if he decided men weren’t for him. 

Everything sort of spirals quickly after that. 

Steve and Robin are at work when Dustin comes barreling into the store with Eddie Munson in tow. 

“We need Rocky Horror Picture show right now.” The demand is sharp, and Steve just rolls his eyes at the teen.

“Not that I’m judging or anything Dust, but what do -you- need with that movie?” Robins voice cuts across the store from where she’s restocking returns in the romance section. 

“We have a theory about Mike we want to test.”

“You have a theory about Mike you want to test.” Eddie cuts in hoping up onto the counter and crossing one leg under him. Steve’s pretty sure he stops breathing for a second. Because right there in his left pocket is that stupid black hanky that Steve never really paid attention to before, but now his eyes lock on.

“Steve!” Robins next to him now shoving him out of the way of the register so she can check out Dustin, and Steve’s still just kind of frozen in place because, Munson’s into some kinky shit and he’s not entirely sure how to bring his brain back from the rabbit hole it’s just dove down.

“Stevie, are you still coming over for movie night with me and Buck?” Eddie chirped climbing down off the table to follow Dustin out the door. Robin looked from Eddie to Steve, trying to figure out what exactly broke her best friend, when her eyes land on the hanky and she has to hide her laugh with a cough.

“Yea, he’s coming. He’s my ride anyways. We’ll see you at 8 Eddie.” With a nod and a questioning glance in Steve’s direction Eddie throws open the front doors and skips to his van as Dustin clamors into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Dingus.” Robin slides in front of Steve, a shit eating grin spreading across her face. “Learn anything new just now?”

“Holy shit Robin, how am I ever even supposed to -look- at him again.” He groans throwing his head down onto his crossed arms on the counter.

“He’s still stupid Eddie.”

“Stupid Eddie who likes to tie people up and administer pain in the bed room. Fuck.” Robin could see all kinds of gears turning in Steve’s head. Dots connecting, pieces falling into place until suddenly his face turns bright red and he stands up straight again locking fearful eyes with Robin.

“Oh my god Robin. I think I wanna fuck Eddie Munson.”

Robins laughter was so loud, Eddie could hear it all the way in the parking lot.

(inspired by @undeaddisillusion ‘s post found here)

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Buck is looking for answers!

Before 6x15 aired, I wrote a speculation post about Buck's "Therapy Uniform vs. his date clothes" (linked here) but everyone knows how the season ended with the showrunner pulling that BS by having Eddie revert back to being a giggly high school student who acted like an 18-year-old that didn't know how to ask a woman out on a date. And Buck literally made the same mistake by sleeping with a woman he just met who only wanted one thing from him but I digress. It still pisses me off, so I won't revisit it.

Also, I did a post after 6x13 aired (linked here) about Buck finding the answers (Eddie and Chris) because when he said he was the guy with the answers, he looked at Eddie.

Anyway, after TM (showrunner, GLAD HE'S BACK so KR can kick rocks and go write an episode) released more cryptic Buck, Eddie and Chris pictures at dark o'clock Saturday night or Sunday morning (depending on your time zone), I revisited my theory about Buck's therapy uniform but now I've revised it. He does wear one but the reason he does is a lot narrower in scope. Even though I still believe he wears specific colors or a "uniform" per say for certain things, I realized after doing some analysis that whenever he wears a Gold/Bronze/Burnt Orange/Dark Orange or a Brown shirt with navy-blue or dark colored pants, he's LOOKING FOR ANSWERS!

That's the difference between my original post and this one and I have photos from each episode to prove my updated theory. Before I delve into this, I need to mention there are two pictures from season 6 that contain the colors but BE WARNED, the pictures included deal specifically with the COUCH METAPHOR 🙄🙃. I know, I know... the season ended with Buck asking ND to help him find a couch but full disclosure, after I started working through my frustration with the way the season ended by writing a huge fanfic, I took a closer look at their whatever the hell they were doing (it wasn't a relationship) and I don't think it was meant to be interpreted that way. I won't go into it here in my CANON posts but if you want to know my thoughts on it, I've included them in my love for FANON writing in my multi-chapter fanfic titled "I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!".

Now, let's get into this topic and review Buck's looking for answers uniform.

In 4x2, Buck was looking for ANSWERS from Dr. Copeland and he said, "I think you were right when you said I hide my true feelings from others".

In 4x3 Buck told Maddie and Chimney he was seeing a therapist to help him find the ANSWERS and he started to find them but then everything went to $hit when the Buckley parents showed up.

In 4x4, Buck showed up at Maddie's and Chimney's apartment looking for ANSWERS about his parents and that's when he found out about Daniel.

In 4x8, Buck was lost and trying to find ANSWERS because guess who started dating again? EDDIE! And he was getting ready to introduce AF to Chris but Chris got upset and ran away and took an Uber to Buck's loft.

In 4x11, Buck and TK were FRIENEMIES (not friends even though he believed they were) so he contacted her and asked her for help because he wanted to find the ANSWERS regarding who hit Sue Blevins and ran.

In 4x14, Buck wore his "looking for ANSWERS" uniform twice and BOTH TIMES his quest involved Eddie! The first time was when he was packing more clothes to go to Eddie's house so he could keep taking care of Chris. That's when he got the call from AF after TK kissed him and ran so I've included two pictures so his shirt can be seen better while he's sitting at Eddie's beside. He was looking for answers about Eddie being shot in front of him and his heart being ripped out of his chest when it happened.

The second time he was looking for ANSWERS, he was in the hospital talking to Eddie during THE WILL REVEAL! 🤪😜

In 5x3, Buck was once again looking for ANSWERS about his relationship but reminder, he went home to an empty loft after he told Eddie during the blackout to break up with AF🤪.

In 5x4, he was looking for ANSWERS about Maddie and why she left him again even though she promised him she wouldn't in 3x16. Did she tell him she was leaving, YES! But reminder, she didn't tell him where she was going and all he told Chimney was "It's what she does, leave".

In 6x1, at the end of the episode, Buck was looking for ANSWERS again but this time it was about his couch or the lack thereof. At the beginning of the episode, he cooked dinner for him and his Diaz boys and they made fun of him for not having one even though THEY WERE SITTING RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF HIM. He missed the fact that they were waiting for him and had been since he broke up with TK and he still didn't get it. The picture shows Buck carrying his armchair (which is the same color of the shirt he wears when he's looking for answers) and he moved it to where his couch once sat.

In 6x4, Buck was looking for ANSWERS again when he was trying to decide if he should be Connor's sperm donor.

In 6x12, Buck was lying on the couch looking for ANSWERS about his death but reminder, the color of the couch is close to the color of his armchair but it's hard to see. He's wearing a navy-blue t-shirt while lying on that uncomfortable orange couch his mother bought even though he told her HE'D FIND ONE ON HIS OWN.

In 6x15, Buck was looking for ANSWERS about the fact that he died but ND was fangirling over him so hard that he LIKED the attention she was giving him then he said that Bull$hit to Eddie about her seeing him and Buck and Eddie went back to making the same mistakes. Eddie let people (**cough** Pepa and **cough** Bobby) tell him he should date instead of finding his own way. And Buck tried to make another woman like him when in fact all she wanted was his "Firehose".

In 6x17, he was still looking for ANSWERS but this time it was answers regarding how to calculate the tip at the bar he took ND to and that's when LD showed up and insinuated, they hooked up when she knows they didn't. Reminder, Buck could only do math when he was with Eddie and Chris and the firefam but he couldn't calculate $hit when he was on a date with ND🤪🙃😁😉.

Finally, in Season 7 (TM didn't specify which episode the scene below will appear in his cryptic post), Buck's wearing his LOOKING FOR ANSWERS colored shirt again. The color pants he's wearing while he sits on Chris' bed can't be seen but based on 6x13 when Chris wanted Buck to give him the answers to his math homework and since Chris is clearly doing homework in the picture, it's possible he's asking Buck to help him but he doesn't have the answers anymore because his special skills wore off after 6x13 which just so happened to be the episode the Buckley-Diaz family was together 90% of the time.

What, if anything, does all this mean? I'm not speculating but will Buck finally find the answers in Season 7 or will it be more of the same, him looking for answers while Eddie tries to make another relationship work with someone he doesn't want to be with or will Buck and Eddie finally TALK about all their traumas and confess how much they love each other? Only TM, the producers and the actors know the answers to that question.

[babygorewhore]

Scream for me

Eddie Munson x fem OC

Summery: Eddie Munson, a music major at college is secretly in love with Sammy, or as he calls her, Cobain. But he’s never gotten the chance to ask her out especially with a masked murderer roaming the streets of Hawkins. But he’ll find that the killer is much closer than he thinks.

AU-Scream Universe 🔪

WC. 6k.

This is a shared universe with my girl, Dolly @xxhellfirebunnyxx Our love for these movies and Stranger things inspired us to create our own characters for these fics. Please keep in mind these OCs have self inserted inspired looks but they are still readable. If you’re a scream fan, we’re sure you’ll appreciate the quotes. Eddie refers to her as Cobain. But her name is Sammy.

Warnings! 18plus! Violence! Details of murders! Character is killed off. Slight mention of deadbeat dad, Eddie is a perv. Male masterbation, hints at female masterbation, knife play, oral male recieving, degrading, spit, Dom Oc, sub Eddie, unprotected PnV

“I can’t believe Chrissy is dead, man.” Jonathan sighed as he adjusted his camera bag. Eddie gave him a side glance as they walked on the sidewalk to get to their next classes.

“Yeah, me either. It’s fucking insane.” Eddie answered, resisting the urge to look at his phone again. The images and news report of her corpse was the hot topic of Hawkins and the college.

This was the third murder of this killer stalking the streets. None of them were even connected until Chrissy.

His father and Jonathan’s father were murdered a year ago. A few weeks apart. He wished he could say either of them were sad about it. But they were all killed with a large hunting knife. Each more violent than the last. His uncle Wayne told him about the murder and Eddie attended the funeral. Barely feeling anything except relief. Jonathan was the same way. But he worried about Will’s state of mind.

Eddie and Jonathan started to part ways in the entry way of the building. “I’ll see you after class, Eddie.”

He sped walked to his music class, he was still in theory. Eddie wanted to erase how he used to be in high school. So he made sure to always be early.

After hours of theory, many notes and contemplating if he was even learning anything, it ended and he was free to hang out with his small circle of friends.

Well.

To hang out with her.

It was embarrassing really. How much he liked her. Eddie tried to always wear his nicest jeans and band shirts. Even if he was teased for being a simp by the asshole Harrington. Eddie breathed in the fresh air and made his way to the spot his friends claimed earlier in the semester. He chewed his lips in anticipation as he rounded the corner.

His breath caught in his throat and he almost dropped his bag. Eddie always felt like he got hit by a bus when he saw her. She was walking to the spot. Two benches next to the courtyard. He tried to smile normally. But he probably looked he was in a toothpaste commercial.

Samantha and her best friend Willow walked together arm and arm. But everyone called her Sammy and Willow was Bunny. But Eddie had his own name for her. Something no one else had.

“Hey, Cobain. Hey bunny.” He waved and they both did too.

Cobain’s clothes were always dark. Loose, comfortable sweaters, patterned pants or dresses. She always wore converse or combat boots. Her hair was bright pink and curly. Her curves filled out her current dark green sweater that reached her thigh. Her eyes coated in thick eyeliner.

Bunny was the opposite. Smaller in height and figure. Her white hair was long and she always wore light colors. Like an angel. She had big doe eyes that Jonathan was obsessed with. Bunny was Jonathan’s girl. She just didn’t know it yet.

Eddie called Sammy cobain because the first time he saw her, she wore a Nirvana shirt and she stood up to Jason when he asked her to name more than three songs in the courtyard when she was trying to find a spot to read.

But then the dick decided to get aggressive and Eddie scared him off. He was obsessed already when Sammy gave him a dimpled smile. “Uh. Thanks, Eddie.”

“How-you already-“

“Come on. Everyone knows the most metal guy in Corraded Coffin. I’ve come to a couple sets.”

He immediately fell in love with her. Eddie slung an arm around her shoulders, slouching down.

“Well, my lady. I certainly can’t tease you about Nirvana, Ms. Cobain. Not when she’s a fan.” She told him quietly her real name.

Eddie allowed both girls to sit before he did and he slumped beside Cobain. Her lips were coated in gloss. And it was sticking out of her bag. Their knees touched and he was getting warm. He kept glancing at her chest. It was rising and falling softly. He wanted to squeeze them and fuck-

“How are you ladies? Did you guys stay awake during class?” He tried to focus on her eyes but it was really fucking hard by the way she kept adjusting her silver heart necklace.

Bunny and Cobain snorted. “I tried not to freak out when I checked my phone.” She tucked a pink strand behind her ear and Bunny held her arm tighter.

“It’s so scary. This guy is getting crazy with killing people. I-I don’t ever want to be alone.”

“You girls don’t need to worry. You’re always together and besides. You have m-“

“Hey guys,” Eddie wanted to scream at the sound of Robins voice but both Bunny and Cobain grinned and ushered the rest of the group over.

Robin, her girlfriend Marina, Steve and Jonathan settled around.

Robin started babbling, “Another murder? This dude is officially considered a serial killer. And did you notice-“

“Fuck, Robin. Can we at least sit down before you start talking about the gross details?” Steve cut her off and earned a small glare from Marina.

“Nice seeing you guys,” Eddie moved over as Robin and Marina wedged themselves on either side of Cobain and then himself.

Both girls smiled at the other girls but Bunny gave Jonathan a shy wave as he sat next to Steve on the other bench.

“Go ahead, Robin.” Cobain told her. Fuck she was always so nice.

“Thank you, Sammy. Did you notice how Chrissy is the only victim who’s not directly related to anyone in this group? Like the pattern that connected the killings is also separating them?”

“Yeah, I didn’t get that either. Is there a point in there?” Steve called out and crossed his arms. Eddie rolled his eyes. King Steve involved in a conversation that wasn’t about him must have been painful.

“I’m saying that it’s probably a distraction! I mean imagine how strong you have to be to slice and gut somebody!” Cobain and Bunny cringed. Eddie had the urge to cover her ears.

“God-how do you…gut someone?” Cobain asked and glanced at Eddie.

“You take a knife, and you slit them from groin to sternum.” Steve answered with a smirk.

“Hey, it’s called tact you fuck rag.” Eddie interrupted. Deciding to throw a dig at him, he added. “Didn’t you use to date Chrissy?”

“Yeah, for like two seconds. She wasn’t crazy like that at first.” Steve always shoved back.

“Didn’t she dump you for a chance at Jason?” Marina added while Robin held her leg.

“Oh, I didn’t hear about that.” Eddie challenged.

“She’s full of shit. I only decided to pop in because with all this bullshit there’s probably going to be a curfew. So in a couple days I’m throwing a party. Bring a lot of booze and whatever.”

“Are the police aware that you dated the victim?” Robin adjusted in her spot, throwing her arm around Marina and Bunny.

“What? Are you saying I killed her?” Steve scoffed and adjusted his stupid hair.

“It would make a lot of sense actually.”

“No, he couldn’t have. It would take a strong man to do something like that that.” Cobain’s response made everyone laugh.

Eddie couldn’t take his eyes off her in that moment, her dimples and her pink hair falling around her shoulders. As the laughter died down, he noticed in her open bag that she had a variety of pens. Without thinking, he was quick to snatch one. Just one so it wouldn’t be noticed.

Eddie fucking wished he could say it was the only thing he stole from her. “Eddie, do you mind giving me a ride home? Bunny has plans with Jonathan.” Cobain turned to face him head on and Eddie couldn’t help but almost choke.

“It’s okay if you can’t-“ Cobain went to say but he shook his head.

“No! No! I’d love to! My chariot waits for you mlady. And I assure to Bunny she will arrive safely later as I assume you will be having a sleepover?”

“Thank you, Eddie. I know that you’re usually at band practice but-“

He went to tell her that he would lay in traffic for her but then she laid her head on his shoulder. Granted it was only three seconds. Eddie instinctively went to wrap his arm around her but she stood up. Giving Bunny a quick squeeze.

“I’m ready when you are, Eddie.”

Eddie tried to think of rational reasons to tell her why his seat would look slightly damp or why he would have to quickly shove a pile into a corner. Which would include…pens…a pair of underwear he stole…a bra and he was almost ashamed of it but there was also a guitar pick that she touched.

“Uh, just one second, Cobain, let me do something real quick.” Eddie ripped open the backseat of his car and swept all his stolen shit to the corner and quickly stood tall.

She was glancing at the window and he circled around the car. Opening the passenger seat. “Here you go,” Eddie knew he needed to dial it back as she ducked her pink head down and climbed into the car.

“Pull it together, Munson.” He whispered to himself before getting in on his side.

Eddie automatically went to press the power button for music before he stopped. No, he wanted to talk to her. Not listen-

“Hey, uh, Eddie, it’s okay if you wanna play music. We don’t have to talk-“

“No, no, no,no, it’s not everyday I get to take home my favorite Sammy Bear.” He winced a little. Okay, calm down. It’s not the first time he had taken her home but he rarely ever had her alone.

He started cruising down the streets of Hawkins, hyper aware of every move she made in the seat and the rumble of their casual conversation. Every move she made was fucking hot. The way her legs were slightly parted and she tapped her fingers on her thighs. Eddie wanted to just ask her out. Like a normal person. But she was out of his league. By a lot.

He was just some freak who manage to finally graduate and decent enough grades to pass enough to get into college. Eddie was proud, it was more than his dad ever said he was capable of. But he was a bit older than the rest and he didn’t have as nice of a car and he had to live in a dorm. And work part time at a body shop. Eddie gritted at the thought but he wasn’t like fucking King Steve who had everything handed to him.

Cobain was an English student. An honor student who tutored, volunteered, led the book club and even helped the music classes when they had to go to the auditorium. The short girl would help them with equipment. She wasn’t from the trailer park and she would never look at him that way-

“I’m so nervous about all these killings, Eddie. I mean…I know Chrissy was like-“

“A bitch?” Eddie finished, glancing at her and his pants tightened at the new attention she was giving him.

“Eh, yeah. But I’m just worried about what’s gonna happen. Steve’s throwing that party but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to go.” Cobain twirled the end of one of her curls.

“You’re gonna sit this one out?” He asked.

“No, Bunny really wants to go and I do too. I’m just scared that’s all. God, I’m really rambling aren’t I?”

“It’s fine! P-please keep rambling!” Eddie cleared his throat. He was getting closer to her house. “I’m glad you asked me for a ride, I feel like we don’t really get to talk that much. Which, of course we’re in different classes, but you’re so cool-“

“No, I’m glad you could. I like being around you.” Eddie almost stopped steering. She said what? He was so dirty. All those times…he rushed home, holding one of those fucking pens in his hand and jerked off so hard it hurt. Spilling all over it. Which brought him to the second reality. The other time he had been at her house, he pretended he needed to go to the bathroom and snuck into her room.

He didn’t have time to admire it-he couldn’t even tell you what color her bedding was but he was digging in her drawers like a madman and he pocketed a pair of black panties and a pink bra was inside his shirt when he rushed back downstairs.

And he had to drive normally in her driveway. But he couldn’t get over what she said. Cobain…liked being around him? “

“Hey Eddie, I know this may be a weird question, but I’m dying to know. Do you have any music recs? I need something new to get me through studying. Mr. Hopper is killing me with all the essays-do you mind if you text me your Spotify?”

Eddie’s heart stopped. “Uh-absolutely! Here!” He too quickly snatched her extended phone with the skull phone case and dialed his number. He was going to pass out. His fingers were over her phone, something she touched constantly.

He handed it back, brushing against her warm digits.

“Thanks so much, Eddie. I hope I won’t annoy you with updates on my opinions.” Cobain smiled.

“You could never annoy me, Cobain. Besides, any opportunity I have to branch you out, it’s my pleasure.”

She got out the car then, waving goodbye and Eddie like a dumbass hesitated too long and returned the gesture when she turned her back.

Eddie couldn’t get home faster, he probably slammed his breaks way too hard as he raced into his dorm. He pried his jeans off, boxers not even halfway down his thighs before he crashed down on his mattress. His hand still felt tingly from touching hers as he started stroking his precum leaking cock with that hand.

His hard dick twitched as he thought about how it would have felt like to pound her into a crying mess against the seat. Cover the seats in cum and mark her as his. All he fucking want was her. His little Cobain.

Giving her his number? Asking for music recommendations? His knuckles were growing wetter, his forehead dampening as he grew closer. He couldn’t even last as he thought about pulling her pretty pink hair.

“Fuck-“ His core released a flood over his hand, sheets and his barely removed boxers. He panted heavily as he pulled his hand away from his dick.

Eddie imagined it was her not his own palm. Hers were smaller than his but they would be like heaven on his cock.

He sloppily cleaned himself with the fabric of his boxers when his cellphone pinged. Eddie nearly dropped his device as he quickly unlocked to see if Cobain was calling him already.

But it was an unknown number.

He hesitated but figured it may be a student who got his number from his professor.

“Hello?” He still sounded out of breath.

“Hellooo, Edward.” What the fuck? Eddie shot up from laying down. The voice was altered and male. Well…it was just weird.

“Uh, yeah? Who’s this?”

“Me? I’m just a passerby. Someone who’s interested in watching people. Do you like watching people, Eddie?” Oh Jesus H Christ.

“Oh my fucking god. Are you the killer? Fuck no.” He hung up. Eddie scrambled to get his pants, when his phone rang. Again. And again.

He grabbed his phone, slamming it to his ear. “WHAT?”

“Don’t you fucking hang up on me again, you fucking perv. Or I’ll gut you like a fish, got it?” He choked on his spit.

“W-who-“

“Aw, Eddie. What’s wrong? Are you surprised I know your dirty little secret? You shouldn’t be. I mean-its a little…stalker much isn’t it?”

“Me? A stalker? You’re the one going around killing people, you piece of shit.” Eddie grit out, shoving around his clothing and other things to make sure there weren’t any cameras.

“Hey, don’t tell me you’re not glad those people are gone, Eddie. If they weren’t, your little girlfriend wouldn’t have…taken a ride.” He stopped short. Gripping his phone tighter.

“If you hurt her-I swear I’m going-“

“How sweet. Willing to fight for a girl you’re too scared to ask out. Mmm, Eddie. Maybe someone else will do it for you and you can take action.”

“Like what?! Kill someone?”

“It’s just good old fashioned revenge.”

The killer hung up and Eddie shuddered. What the fuck was that? Who the fuck is this killer? And how did they know all of this?

“I can’t believe he called you.” Cobain whispered as he walked with her after class. “Are you okay? He threatened you.” She wrapped her hand around his sweatshirt covered bicep.

Eddie sucked in a breath as he recalled the way he came from just the touch of her hand. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little freaked out is all. He’s not gonna fucking do anything.”

“Do you know anyone else who’s gotten a call?” She held onto him still as they strolled outside. No doubt going to part ways.

It was on the tip of his tongue to see if she would let him take her tonight. But she always went with Bunny.

“Yeah. Jonathan did. Threatening and everything.” Eddie grit between his teeth. “He hasn’t called you or anything yet right?”

She didn’t answer and he swung around. Hands finding her shoulders. Her big eyes were glassy. Pink curls falling across her forehead. Eddie pushed them away with his fingers. “Cobain. Did he call you?”

She audibly swallowed and pulled out her phone. “He didn’t call me. But he’s been…texting me. At least I think it’s him.” He snatched her phone, panic and anger rising.

He scowled at the disgusting messages.

“I’ll slit that slutty neck of yours.”

“You stop talking to me and I’ll kill everyone you love. And then finish you off.”

“Maybe if I chop off those hands of yours you’ll-“ Eddie stopped short at reading out loud when Cobain realized the rest of that sentence. She took her phone back quickly.

Eddie knew it was such bad timing. The rest of the text talked about how she made herself cum. Yesterday. He imagined her small fingers circling her swollen clit before creamy wetness dripped out of her sweet pussy. If he wasn’t with her right now he would go to her bedroom and steal another pair of panties. But then he snapped out of it. She was scared.

“It’s so awful, Eddie. What if he hurts me?” Tears pricked her eyes and he took a risk and hugged her. Resting his head on hers. His hand rubbed her back, feeling the fabric of her black sweater.

“I’d never let anyone hurt you, Cobain. You know that? Maybe you-shouldn’t be alone? I can take you home again?” He was itching to confess.

“Oh, Eddie. You’re so sweet to me.” She pulled back, eyeliner slightly smudged. “but Bunny and I are always together. But…maybe we can hang out at the party? I mean besides. Tonight I have to tell you what I thought about music.”

Oh god he was going to pass out. Right there on the side walk. “Are you-do you want to-“

“I don’t wanna move too fast. I think I’m still a little traumatized by the high school incident.” She chuckled.

Eddie was almost bouncing off the walls with excitement. This was almost a date. Almost. But. “High school incident?”

Sammy shrugged. “It’s a crazy story.”

Eddie nudged her with his boot against her converse shoe.

“I like crazy stories.”

She sighed and shifted on her feet. He loved her green trap pants as she fidgeted with the pockets. “Chrissy and I used to be-I guess enemies? For some reason she made my life hell. She made fun of how I dressed, my grades and she wouldn’t leave me alone. Well, finally I told her off when she dumped her lunch on me. And to get me back-“ She clenched her jaw. “She told everyone that her boyfriend cheated on her. With me.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. How did he not know this? He wasn’t surprised though. Cobain hated drama and confrontation. He felt even more protective of her. “Hey. It’s okay. If you want to take time-just hang out more then I’m more than okay with that, Cobain. But I really like you. And I have for a while. I just didn’t want to make you feel-weird.”

Cobain leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. He saw stars and stopped breathing from her soft lips. He wanted to kiss her but both of their phones buzzed loudly. Like an alarm.

He pulled out his phone.

“Attention students. Classes will be suspended until further notice due to lasts nights crime. Please be aware of any updates. Stay safe and stay with others.”

Another murder? He frowned. No one heard anything. “Someone else was killed.”

Cobain shivered and apparently read the news article. She gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. “Oh god…Eddie. It’s Nancy.” She whispered. “She was-brutally killed. Stabbed so many times. Just like Chrissy. And they-they have a name for this guy.” She looked up. “They’re calling him Ghostface.”

“Of course. Giving this son of a bitch some title. Like he’s famous. Maybe the party-maybe Steve will cancel.”

“I doubt it. As if he stop one of his parties. And besides. Everyone being together in one place is a good idea. I have to go find Bunny. I know she’s probably so scared.”

“Okay, yeah. Of course. I’ll see you tonight, Cobain.” Cobain gave him a smile before she sped walked ahead.

Eddie exhaled. A whirlwind happened. Murder. A almost date. And now…what?

Steve knew how to throw parties, one of is common bragging points as Eddie pulled into an open space on the street across the house. Music blared from inside and it was some hip hop playlist that he dreaded listening to. But really he was going for Cobain. He searched for any sign of her car or bunny’s. Jonathan was here already.

Eddie closed his car door with hip as he walked up to the door holding two cases of beer and he waited for someone to open the door. The man of the hour swung it open, Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “My man. Join us. Fucking perfect, you brought more booze.” He was already slightly slurring.

Eddie forced himself to do an attempted smile as Steve snatched the cases and marched into the kitchen. “Who wants more?” Cheers sounded from the too crowded house.

He didn’t give a fuck about that, right now he needed to find her. Eddie wore a nirvana shirt and his dark jeans. He wanted to show up in something only they understood. Eddie walked into the living room, no sign of her either.

“Hey! Eddie! Come join us!” He turned to see Robin and Marina sitting on the couch. Her girlfriend sitting on her lap. “We’re having a really important discussion. Oh hey, Sammy!”

He whipped around, his boots clinging to the carpet and he almost fell like a fucking idiot.

Cobain was wearing a three quarter sleeve dark brown oversized sweater. Showing off her rose wrist tattoo, thorn thumb tattoo and her matching butterflies with Bunny. Her legs were covered with ripped tights and her converse. He walked over to her and smiled. She did too. He slightly narrowed his eyes at a small red spot on the corner of her makeup covered eye. But he quickly forgot.

“Hey, Cobain, can-I get you-I mean can I get you a beer?” He cleared his throat to try and cover up his stuttering but she was so pretty.

“Yeah, I’d love that thank you.” She winked. “I’m gonna sit over there, I’ll save you a spot.” He blinked a few times at her slightly bolder voice.

“Uh yeah. That would be good.” She raised up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Eddie’s eyes widened as she brushed past him as she made her way to the couch. He assumed Jonathan was with bunny as he sped walked to the couch. Wanting to get back to his girl.

But he saw Bunny whispering in Steve’s ear. Steve was smirking as she twirled her hair. Eddie frowned. But he minded his business as he got two bottles and came back to where the group was. Cobain was sitting on a loveseat and padded a place next to her. He probably walked too quickly and almost dropped the glass bottles and he clumsily plopped next to her. Their legs pressed close together.

He decided to try and be bold with his hand but she beat him to it. Her palm brushed against his knee. She looked at him with her doe eyes and long lashes. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah of course. I-I like it.” He was so excited as he twisted the caps off. “For you, Cobain.”

“Okay, okay enough of the lovey dovey shit!” Robin interrupted and stood up. “Except for you, Cherry.” She dipped down to kiss Marinas lips before shooting up and frantically waving around her half empty beer. “Listen. If we’re gonna survive this spree of this psycho. We need to understand the rules.”

“Rules? At a party?” Steve proudly puffed his chest as he stepped in the living room. “That’s the last thing on my mind, Robs.” She scoffed and flipped him off.

“Yes rules, Dingus. The first one, you can NEVER have sex!” Everyone booed and laughed. Cobain and Eddie glanced at each other, and she squeezed his knee tighter. He set his ring covered palm on top of hers and traced the tattoo with his thumb.

“I think you’re a little late for that,” Steve smirked.

“Number two! You can never drink or do drugs!” Then everyone laughed harder, including Eddie himself as he raised his beer and remembered the weed kept in an extremely secret stash in his car.

Cobain started chugging her drink and Eddie started flushing. Something was different about her tonight. His shy little Cobain was getting out of her shell and he wanted to fucking kiss her so badly. Her throat gulped and he wanted to suck on her skin. Leave marks of his territory. If they weren’t in front of people-

She started to rise, her hand running against a strand of his messy waves. He opened his mouth to protest but Robin continued.

“And third! Never, ever under any circumstances say I’ll be right back. Because you won’t be back.”

Cobain turned at the edge of the door leading to the garage, “I’m getting another beer, you want one?”

Robin absentmindedly nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Cobain stuck out her arms, “I’LL BE RIGHT BACK!”

Eddie burst out laughing as Robin gasped. But a part of him sunk because he felt like she kept disappearing. But he wasn’t going to pout. He was going to wait for her. Like he promised himself he would. He glanced down after feeling his phone buzz. He sighed, hoping it wasn’t his uncle needing something. But he choked when he saw an unknown number.

“Looks like you’re going to break a rule, perverted little bitch.”

It was almost too easy as Sammy silently slipped on the gown and met her best friend in the garage. She smirked as she hid in the corner of behind the door. Bunny was in her robe, after leaving a shit scared Steve locked in the bedroom. Forbidding him to scream. Jason was coming; one of the men who bullied them. Tormented Sammy. He would pay the price. Revenge was very sweet.

The door opened, and they nodded at each other. Signaling the start of their conquest.

Jason was rummaging through the fridge, getting an arm full of beers wearing his jersey he refused to part with. His sneakers squeaked as he turned around. But Bunny was standing in front of the door.

“Shit, Jesus. That’s not fucking funny, Steve.” Jason snarled. Trying to move past but she grabbed his arm. Tightly.

“Oh? You wanna be like the psycho killer out there? Some little copy cat? You’re too small to be Harrington…I bet your Robins little girlfriend.” Bunny pulled out her hunting knife, and held it up. Waving it back and forth.

“You want me to be your helpless victim? Please, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface. I really want to fuck a little Bunny.”

Then she shoved him and Sammy ran out of her hiding place and locked her arm around Jason’s neck. He flailed and he was strong. Really strong but they both practiced enough time to overpower men. “Kill this motherfucker.” Sammy growled.

They both slammed their knives on either side of his neck. He sank as they yanked out their blades, took their sleeves and wiped the knife.

“Another one down.” Bunny kicked off her costume, kicking it in the corner and Sammy decided to leave hers on. Give Eddie a little scare.

“Fuck, that one was fun. He didn’t even have a chance. But we gotta go, I’m sure those little pervs are waiting for us.”

Bunny went back up the stairs, putting back her soft act and exited the garage. Sammy opened the metal door and snuck outside. But she wasn’t alone when one of the guests started to scream. She let out an exhale before she started chasing after them.

Her past with track paid off as she lodged the knife into guys shoulder before ripping it out. She didn’t want to kill him, she wanted to cause chaos.

Sammy stopped as he started screaming inside the house, yelling that Ghostface was outside. She heard more yelling, and she quickly ducked behind a bush. She pulled off one glove and called Eddie.

“Cobain, Jesus Christ, where are you? That fucking Ghostface is here!”

“I’m so scared, Eddie! I was in the garage and I saw Jason was dead!”

“Is that where you are? I’ll find you,” Eddie voice was almost muffled by the crowd.

“I can sneak past the side door, and meet me upstairs.” She hung up and got back inside the house.

It was nearly empty as she saw Eddie holding his phone to his ear in the kitchen. His eyes widened and he took off. Sammy almost cackled as she followed him, knife raised as she chased him up the stairs, she had memorized the house enough to know a guest room was to their right as he shoved open the door.

She managed to reach him and grab his hair, fingers locking around his curls and she turned him around quickly, pushing him against the wall, blade pointed to his neck.

“Who the fuck are you?” Eddie was squirming and likely trying to think of a way to get around her.

Sammy started then laughing. “Oh, Eddie.” His face immediately paled and he went slack.

“C-Cobain?” His eyes were wide as she slowly pulled off her mask, blood still damp on her gloves as she continued smiling at him.

“Surpriseeee, Eddie.”

“No, no, this isn’t possible. This has to be some fucked up joke. You’d never hurt-“ Sammy held the knife to his neck, causing him to gasp. His pale skin flushing.

“Oh, I don’t think so. Eddie, you’re so hot when you’re scared, pretty boy.”

“You’ve killed people, this is crazy! What- why did you do it?” Eddie was trying to regain his voice but his movements stalled when she pressed a little harder, her other arm reached up to settle on the side of his head.

“You want a motive? Is that it? Who says I have one?” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Maybe it was just fun…”

“No, it can’t be that. There has to be a reason.”

“Maybe all those fucking shitty people had it coming. They all deserved it. Every. Single. One. We just got revenge. What everyone is too scared to do.” Sammy started nodding her head. “Is that motive enough for you?”

She looked down at his pants, he was hard. “Dirty boy, you like this. Being under my mercy, don’t you? Just like when you take my stuff. Cum around it.” His brown eyes widened. “Oh yeah, I know all about it. Maybe I left it out for that exact reason.”

She slid her free hand down his chest, he shivered as her blood stained glove left a trail. “You like this…you want it, don't you?”

“I can’t- it’s not right-“ She smacked his dick with the knife. Enough pressure to get his attention but it wouldn’t hurt. She pulled the glove off.

“Don’t lie to me, it’s pathetic.” She whispered and leaned in closer, hovering over his mouth. “Hmm? You gonna make me do all the work?”

Eddie lost control when he smashed his lips to hers, apparently losing all morals as they were nothing but teeth and tongues devouring each other. His hands locked around her hips as she ground them against his dick.

Sammy then grabbed his neck and turned him. She landed on top of him on the perfectly made bed as she slit the knife through the material of his shirt, exposing his fit torso. He moaned as she traced his stomach then v line with the tip of the blade. It glimmered underneath the poor lighting.

“Dirty slut, you want me to ride you? You want to make me cum? I think you’ve earned it.”

“Fuck, please. Please, fuck me. I need you,” She cut him off by kissing him with bruising force and bit his lower lip. He opened his mouth and she took the opportunity to spit inside as she started slightly bouncing. Still with their clothes on.

Sammy started sucking his neck, leaving purple marks before moving down his chest. Making her way down his hips above his jeans. She tossed the knife on the floor as she pulled off his pants and boxers.

His cock slapped against his stomach as precum leaked from the tip. “Is this all for me?” She smeared it with her thumb as he rapidly nodded.

“Yeah, I need it-“

Sammy wasted no time getting on her knees on the floor, her own pussy soaking through her panties as she wrapped her lips around the swollen tip of his dick. Eddie moaned louder, an almost animalistic sound from his chest as his hand flew to her pink hair.

Her tongue messily lapped the sides of his cock before she massaged his balls and returned to sucking. She breathed through her nose as she bobbed her head. Her mouth was growing wetter as he grew close. He was going to cum already. Sammy gagged as he thrusted into her mouth and hit the back of her throat.

He spilled into her mouth and she pulled back, wiping her chin as she crawled on top of him again. Straddling his naked hips. Eddie was panting as he grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her again.

His breathing was pornographic as Sammy shimmied out of her shorts and tights, she wasn’t wearing underwear as her cunt clenched around nothing. “You want me to fuck you?” She baited him against his lips.

“God, yes. Ride me, I’m begging you.” He was almost on the brink of tears as she guided his cock to her pussy and sank down.

She was stretched and then filled up as she groaned. Her hands on his shoulders as she started bouncing. Eddie’s palm went around her throat and she allowed him. Poor pretty boy needed something to brag about. The headboard slammed against the wall and she was growing close. The adrenaline of killing and fucking Eddie Munson was enough to make her cum. His thumb rubbed her clit, speeding up the climax.

It hit her like lighting and she shuddered, her forehead pressed against his. Sweat dampening her skin. She began to move again, knowing he didn’t cum the second time but he stilled her.

“No, I can- I can wait. That was about you.” He whispered.

She gave him a smirk and then grabbed his jaw, her post orgasm trembling making it sloppy. “Good. Because now, I’m going to make you scream for me.”

@scene-and-dandylover @reidsbtch @monstxrteeth @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @imyourdaninow @chrrymunson @melodymunson @slutty-thevampireslayer @rodriguez31 @elaine-in-the-membrane

Thank you for taking the time to read!

[ultimateempath]

Welcome Home Theory

ALRIGHT SO. I've had a thought about what's going on in the world of Welcome home for a while, and this newest update gave me a little more to work with so I'll finally be sharing my thoughts.

I personally believe that Home itself is not evil, but that it is being used as a vessel by the unknown entity that affected the puppets and caused whatever incident that got the show shut down.

As we've seen, there's a massive swirling pit beneath Home that appeared to be getting bigger. I think what happened is that the Playfellow Workshop made the terrible mistake, intentional or not, of building the set for Welcome Home right on top of some kind of paranormal hotspot, triggering that pit to begin forming and Home to be taken over by the entity released from it.

Wally, as the one living within Home and right on top of the pit, was the first be affected and 'wake up' as it were. He was the first to become sentient, the first to realize the truth of their existence...and he is/was the worst equipped to handle it. He was supposed to be the child stand-in, the one learning lessons from the others. Now he's stuck as the one trying to "help" them, trying to reach out, to bring their show back, to fix it. I don't know if he's intentionally coming off as malicious about it though, for now it's unclear if he's genuinely trying to help or if the entity is controlling his actions in some way.

Eddie and Frank appear to be the next two to 'wake up'. We don't know what exactly happened with Frank yet, but it's clear from him switching from 'Mr. Dear' to a hushed 'Eddie' in the homewarming video that he became sentient as well and is aware of the need to stay in-character. As for Eddie, we saw it happen with our own eyes. He finally gets to relax for the first time, perhaps seen as 'breaking character', and immediately experiences some kind of dissociation and hellish realization complete with Home ominously staring into him.

Eddie is strangely not present in the new content on the main 'innocent' website. While he simply may have been busy during these particular escapades, it's also possible he was removed from the main cast for some unknown reason. My guess is that it would be due to either something with his and Franks relationship, or possibly because Eddie and/or Frank ended up breaking character too much, likely out of concern for one another, and Playfellow and/or the entity responded by getting rid of Eddie. Wether his puppet was sent elsewhere or he was straight up murdered is another unknown, if he was in fact removed like we think.

The rest of the puppets don't appear to be sentient yet at this point in the story, but that will most definitely change as time goes on. I believe the change from cartoon hands to puppet hands may be a clue as well since Wally and Eddie are currently the only ones we've seen with puppet hands and Eddie's changed during his hellish epiphany. So if we see the animated povs of other characters, it's a good idea to keep a look out for that switch to puppet hands.

My final note: the new website can't stay uncorrupted for long, I'm certain we'll hear from Wally and/or the others again at some point.

Thats all for now, just wanted to share my thoughts on what might be going on. Sorry if I'm late to this particular line of thought.

Edit:fixed a typo and tweaked my phrasing in one section.

[ranbling]

Sending this anonymously bc i don’t wanna get the b/t stans attacking me for saying my observation, but this is in regards to your post about tommy not being enthusiastic about buck

for starters i completely agree w everything you said so this is just my own blurb i wanted to add

this plays into my theory of tommy paralleling abby in s1 who was never looking for anything serious w buck, but saw him as a younger man who could be used as a play-thing meanwhile buck jumps in head first only to learn a lesson about what love actually is along the way after being hurt…. and ik a bunch of people are like “i don’t want buck to get hurt by another relationship” but i genuinely think he needs to be burned a few more times because he obviously still doesn’t realize that his own interests should be celebrated by his partner and not put down— buck hasn’t had something BIG happen to him since the coming out arc and that was a mostly positive arc, aside from the gaslighting from tommy but whatever… it’s time for him to go through another hurdle, not as a side player in someone else’s arc [bobby’s injury/eddie’s breakdown] but as his own arc in which he realizes he is worth more than just being a pretty boy who is only valuable when he’s being kissed. I hope that bobby and eddie’s storylines will show him that in the finale and we can end this whole buck/tommy fiasco before s8, but im scared they will drag it out further into s8 and we will get either retconning from the writers, or we will get the fandom backlashing against tommy being used for his original intended purpose which was to be a PLOT DEVICE…..

we also have seen buck’s interests and excited demeanor subdued and looked down on by taylor often during their relationship. i already have iffy feelings on how the writers handled her character and her relationship arc with buck but aside from the treasure hunt, we never really saw her propping up buck’s interests and often tried to subdue his “golden retriever” personality (something the buckley parents also did)

(this is also interesting bc Taylor Kelly and Tommy Kinard…. T-K and T-K, idk it feels very hmmm to me on top of Tommy kind of repping all of Buck’s past major relationships into s ball)

and i feel like the diaz parents and possibly whatever happens with the will could be that catalyst for him to finally be like “oh… i am worth more thsn just being a side piece” which would hopefully lead to a b/t breakup

bc think about it, who IS the only one (besides bobby/maddie) who is always trying to tell buck he is worth more than just what he is at face value? DING DING DING it’s eddie… and if we get that feelings realization of “oh this is what i need from a relationship and i get that from eddie” we can open the door to buck facing the “im in love with my straight best friend who is going through shit” crisis while eddie could have his own “i am projecting my feelings towards buck onto my dead wife because he is what i want and she is who i thought i was supposed to want”

also for eddie’s side of things, it could also be a sense of realizing that he’s projecting and this further idea of “i’m broken” and then realizing who has been there to help him patch things up in the past as he realizes that everything he has looked for in a partner (mainly someone to be a second parental unit for chris) he already has with buck.

anyway i am so sorry for the long ask i just wanted to put this out there and say that i fully agree w you and share my thoughts that coincide with yours

Hi anon!

I love long asks and I agree with every point you made! Buck is still very obviously stuck in the hamster wheel (but only this time with a guy) and the whole "I don't want him to get hurt" is such a weird thing to say. Like except for Abby, Buck wasn't really upset by his breakups and rn his relationship with Tommy is not deep with a lots of buildup, it's just some dates (one of them failed) and two kiss so not a situation that will cause him a lots of heartache

And Eddie is the one who really matches Buck's energy and not only always hypes him up, but he's just as ready to get into the those situations

The pining arc for them is gonna be soo good, but I really hope they won't make it too long, I think a half season for it is more than enough (but I am an impatient girlie and we had enough slowburn now), I just want them to be domestic

I honestly believe we'll either have bt breakup in the next episode or in the first episode of s8. They did nothing to develop their relationship past e6, but introduced many points that could he grounds for a breakup (all coming back to Tommy's behaviour).

[strangersteddierthings]

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

"Did you ask about my sandwich?" is the first thing Robin asks him when he falls through her window. Only after the question has been asked does Robin turn on the lamp beside her bed.

"Ow," he replies, because he's landed on her shoes. One is digging into the center of his back and the other his buttcheek.

"I'll take that as a no," she swings her legs off the side of the bed, sitting up to look down at him. "You know, with the amount of noise you just made, you might as well have used the front door."

"We both know your parent's know I'm here, anyway. The use of your window is to avoid conversation with your mom. She always asks if I'm planning to propose before you go to college, or after you graduate."

Robin gags. "Don't remind me. Now get off the floor and tell me when I'm to expect lunch delivered by Eddie to Family Video?"

Steve does haul himself off the floor, then, because the shoes are painful. He joins Robin on the bed, shoulder to shoulder, and leans against her. "Sorry. I forgot to ask about your sandwich."

"I forgive you. Now, to the secondary issue of the night. Show me your knuckles."

"What!?" Steve usually prides himself at being able to keep up with Robin and her random thoughts, but this is so out of left field.

Robin just grabs the hand closest to her for inspection. It doesn't take her long to drop it and reach across him to grab his other hand. "Hmm. No signs of physical damage. Did you smother him to death with a pillow instead?"

Ah. "Har har. No. There was no violence of any kind. There was some yelling, at first, and I got the last word in-" "the most important part of any argument." "-because I screamed fuck you and then ran to my room but then... then he looked so sad about it. I even tried to a pick a fight, twice!-" "Yes, yes, your self-destructive tendencies." "-but Eddie really seemed upset by it all, which, he should. If he hadn't been a dick then I wouldn't be holding a grudge. But..."

"But you were also a dick back the rest of high school, so maybe the hurts can like... even out and go away?"

"Well, we didn't word it like that but that was the, like, ending we came to, yeah. Dustin was right. He's a dick, but like, in the same way I am, I guess."

Robin leans away from him so she can sway her body back, bumping her shoulder against his. "So, to summarize...?"

Steve shrugs. "We talked it out, I told him about Christopher and like, glossed over my parents leaving me alone all the time but I think he picked up on it. Especially after I told him your theory about why I was so attached to a cousin I saw for three to four weeks once a year."

"Hey, don't do that. Don't downplay how you're feeling or smack talk your own emotions. Those are my jobs and I'll not have you leaving me unemployed. Now come on. Let's lay down, and you can be the little spoon, and tell me all about it."

"You just don't want to see my ugly cry face."

"I don't want to see your ugly cry face," Robin parrots back as she clicks off the lamp before they lay down and do exactly as promised. Steve retells the whole night in as much detail as he can remember and Robin does spoon him, patting at his head and giving his stomach a little squeeze every time his voice goes watery.

Eddie left Steve's house with his entire worldview shifted. He hasn't felt this rocked about events since learning monsters were real. And the thing that has rocked him the most isn't learning that Steve had essentially been abandoned by his parents when he was fourteen, or even learning about the tangled web inside Steve that consists of his love for fantasy, curiosity for DnD, and grief for the loss of his cousin.

No, what has rocked Eddie, what worldview has shifted, is his perception of himself and how he has been viewing the world. Him and his fucking Munson Doctrine.

It had served him well, back when he'd first learned the word 'doctrine' in sixth grade and made his own then and there. It let him draw clean and clear lines between what hurts and what doesn't, what keeps him safe and what didn't. Befriend the lost sheep, avoid the jocks. Flight was the superior fight or flight response.

And he had made changes over the years; as a rule, don't tell the cops shit about anything, ever. Make yourself the target to help the little guy (if you're the weirdest kid in school, the others might get overlooked). Slash the tires of everyone who dunks your head in a toilet.

Those kinds of changes.

Around junior year, Eddie started selling because they needed a second income. He'd put in application around town, first, but hadn't received a single call back. Hell, four the places he applied straight up told him they wouldn't hire him so he could quit checking in on his application. He knew Reefer Rick wouldn't turn him away. Not when Eddie could get to the high-schoolers Rick knew would pay too much for too little a hell of a lot easier than Rick could.

It came with the added bonus of bullying ending for him, when the same people who used to shove him around or knock things out of his hands ended up wanting to buy some drug or another, and instead of finding Reefer Rick waiting at the picnic table in the trees out of view, they found Eddie.

This added a new point to the doctrine: charge jocks double. He'd held to that until Chrissy, who had seemed so much more like one of his sheep than a jock.

And, well, everything after Chrissy should have ended the Munson Doctrine completely. Because he'd used it to put people in nice, little boxes that made sense in his mind and that was fucking blown to pieces.

Nancy Wheeler, badass gun-owner who he watched make a sawed-off shotgun? She'd in a box labeled 'Priss, Prim, and Proper' and wasn't that a fucking lie.

Robin Buckley, who he knew withstood Russian torture and willing walked into Hell to save the world? He hadn't ever even given her a second thought. She wasn't a jock, a nerd, or a customer, so she just didn't really exist. Which is so shitty of him to realize.

And Steve. Steve fucking Harrington, who ripped a goddamn giant bat demon apart with his bare hands after biting it and then spit the blood out like every horror movie fans wet dream? Like Eddie's wet dream. Well, he'd been a real dick most of high school. That was a fair box to place him in, at the time.

But because of that goddamned Munson Doctrine, he'd been a dick to Steve first. He'd ruined any chance at even being Steve's friend.

Or he had, before tonight.

It's a really fucking humbling thing, to have your own biases thrown in your face. Don't get him wrong, at first it absolutely made him livid. It hurt, and made him defensive, when Steve didn't just accept his apology. He'd instead shot back, something about him not being wrong about who Steve turned out to be and then Steve... Steve had said 'lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math' and Eddie had felt his stomach drop.

He hadn't remembered that day, not nearly as clearly as Steve did, but Steve's words had brought the moment back to him. He couldn't recall exactly what he'd said but he remembered the feeling of satisfaction at humiliating Steve some random jock that day. Satisfaction at flipping the script and getting to be the one who wasn't hurt. He'd laughed at Steve with the other people who had gathered to watch Steve struggle to do simple addition. He'd retold the story to everyone in Hellfire after school and they'd all cheered about it, told Eddie he was right to do what he'd done.

What he remembers even more, though, is coming home to Wayne and bragging about it. Thinking of the responses he got from his friends. But Wayne didn't congratulate him. Wayne had nodded softly along with the story and then said, 'you can't be the one to hit first, Edward. You throw one to many punches and soon enough yer knuckles don't feel the pain anymore.'

Eddie had puffed up, defended himself, yelled at his uncle for defending a jock and Wayne had interrupted him there.

"He mighta been the jock, but you were the bully."

That had hurt almost as much as every punch his father had ever thrown at him. And did Eddie even learn from it?

No. He doesn't think so.

Eddie had a shit life until his Uncle stepped in, stepped up, and showed him that love was unconditional.

And he's just spent the whole evening learning about Steve, and how the love of his parents had always been conditional. (And never in a way Steve could achieve. Not that Steve had said their love was conditional, but you don't abandon a kid you love at fourteen.)

Steve's every decision until the Upside Down had happened was based on what his parents would think or want. Trying to earn his dad's respect or some shit.

Steve's dad might not have hit him, but Eddie knows an unloving father.

Jesus, all this thinking makes Eddie want a cigarette. He drags himself off his bed and to the window, which he yanks open and leans half out to smoke because this is a new trailer and Wayne asked him to smoke outside when they moved into it.

He left Steve's house feeling like they could be friends, which is great. Way more than Eddie expected. It was just also... a lot to process. A lot to take in.

Jesus. He'd never expected Steve to really be willing to play 20 questions to get to know him, either; that he was willing to set his grudge aside and try, even with his anger at Eddie wrapped up in grief for Christopher. Eddie wouldn't have been able to do it.

Not with his Doctrine in the way.

He doesn't need to change everything about himself, but he definitely needs a deep dive into who he is verses who he wants to be, or has thought himself to be. Steve admitted to bettering himself and Eddie wants to be a person worthy of being around Steve.

And being honest with himself in the quiet of his room, Eddie wants be a person worthy of being with Steve.

He's allowed to be a little delusional about it all, he thinks.

[riality-check]

even more daisy jones-adjacent things. parts 1, 2, 3, and 4. tw mentions of substance abuse, talks of blacking out. part 6. part 7.

ao3

It hits number five.

The song about losing, the song Steve helped write, the song with Steve's vocals, hits number five. It's the highest Corroded Coffin has ever gotten on a chart, and it's the highest Steve Harrington has, too.

They're ecstatic, Chrissy is smug, and the record company offers an album.

If, and only if, Steve Harrington continues to work with Corroded Coffin.

Eddie scared himself by saying "yes" first and scared himself even more by agreeing with Steve. But, he reasons, if they're going to be writing an album together, he needs to get the hell over himself.

Easier said than done, but Eddie has always had an "A for effort" kind of mindset.

He's always been the one writing most of the songs. He's always been the one with too many words in his head, always itching for a pen, always thinking in terms of guitar tabs and staff notation when Archie is feeling especially pretentious. Eddie has always done most of it, which has always worked. Jeff helps with lyrics because "I need to make sure you won't make me say anything stupid," Gareth has no interest beyond writing his own drum parts, and Archie, despite knowing the most formal music theory of any of them, doesn't care beyond cleaning it up.

But Eddie needs to write with someone now, and he realizes very quickly that he can't work with someone he hates, or, worse, barely knows.

"Let's play a game," he says, setting down his guitar and kicking his feet up on the couch. He and Steve have long since abandoned writing in the studio and instead decided that Steve's house - a little stucco bungalow with a pool and other cars always in the driveway - would make for a better venue.

Steve scowls when he sees Eddie's feet on the couch, but he stops humming to himself and starts paying attention. "What kind of game?"

"Truth or truth."

"Don't you mean truth or dare?"

"Nope," Eddie says. "Truth or truth. I ask a question, you answer it honestly, then I have to answer my own question. Then you ask, I answer, you answer. Rinse repeat, you get the drill."

"How do you win?" Steve asks, looking up at Eddie from where he sits on the floor.

"You win if you ask a question the other person refuses to answer."

"Sounds like I can just give up as soon as you ask."

"You could," Eddie admits. "But where's the fun in that?"

A tiny, barely-there smile pops up on Steve's face, and that's how Eddie knows he's starting to get somewhere.

Yeah. He's on edge around Steve. He thinks that anyone in his position would be. But Steve is admittedly impressive and mysterious and pretty, and all of that calls to Eddie's lesser instinct to push.

So, the game starts. They exhaust the run of the mill questions fairly quickly; Eddie learns that Steve's favorite color is sapphire, that he used to babysit and lifeguard, that he's from some podunk town in Indiana that he doesn't seem too keen on sharing more about. Eddie, in turn, says that his favorite color is ruby, that he used to work as a mechanic and thought about doing tattoos, that he's from a lot of different places all around Appalachia but the simpler answer is "born in West Virginia, raised in Kentucky."

"Shouldn't you make country music or something, then?" Steve asks.

"Folk's more applicable," Eddie says. "And I grew up listening to it, but I need to make something a little more... all-encompassing."

"I wouldn't say metal's very general."

"No, but when you listen to it, you can't think of anything else but the sound, can you?"

Steve considers for a moment, then nods wordlessly. "Your question."

Eddie thinks. He stares at Steve's twitchy hands, his exhausted face, his slumped posture. And he asks, in direct opposition to his better judgement, "When's the last time you slept?"

He watches, in real time, as Steve's face completely shutters.

But that only lasts an instant. The complete fall, the shut-down, lasts a fraction of a second before Steve completely shifts. He sits up taller, brushes his hair back from his forehead, and looks more alert, less fidgety.

He sobers up, right there in front of Eddie, or at least he pretends to.

"That's a boring question," he says. "Last night."

"You're supposed to answer honestly," Eddie reminds him.

"I am. I slept last night. Seven hours."

Eddie bites his tongue to stave off his instinctual, No, you didn't.

"You're supposed to answer your question now," Steve says once the silence has stretched too long.

"Same as you," Eddie says. "Last night."

Steve scoots closer toward the couch. There's a smug smile on his face, one that Eddie doesn't particularly like.

He thinks he might need a cigarette.

Then, Steve asks, "When's the last time you drank?"

Yeah. Eddie's definitely going to need a cigarette by the time this conversation ends.

"Two years ago," he says because if Steve won't be honest, he will. "August. Indianapolis. I was blacked out. I don't remember anything until halfway through the show the next day. Gareth says he thought about dragging my ass offstage because I was too far gone to tune my guitar until after the first three songs."

The smile melts off Steve's face the more Eddie talks. If Eddie were a better person, he wouldn't find such joy in that.

Eddie isn't a better person. Steve isn't, either.

"Eddie, I-"

"Answer your own question."

"A week ago," Steve says. "I was out celebrating Robin's birthday. Honest."

Eddie believes him. Really, he does. But he's a little bit vindictive, and because Steve shoved him, he has to shove back harder.

"What are you running from?" he asks.

Steve goes completely still. "What?"

Eddie doesn't bother explaining. He knows that if he brings up the way Steve is always a little not here, the way he's fidgety and always too warm, the way he always wears something with pockets that he sticks his hands in, that Steve won't say anything at all.

So, he says again, "What are you running from?"

"I'm not running from anything," Steve says.

"I think I win the game."

Steve scrubs a hand down his face. "Sure. Whatever. But answer your own question."

"Monsters," Eddie says because he's honest.

Steve raises his eyebrows. "You have no idea what monsters are, Eddie."

"Is that what you're running from?"

Steve stares at him again. Eddie watches his hands move in his pockets.

"I need a cigarette," he says, standing up. "You want one?"

Steve shakes his head. "I don't smoke. It stains my teeth."

Eddie walks outside before he pushes further, says something about the fact that Steve is doing way worse than cigarettes and cares more about his teeth than staying alive.

What the hell is he running from?

Eddie hates himself for wanting to find out.

[lover-of-mine]

ngl it makes me nervous that in episode ONE after only TWO MONTHS of dating, our first intro to eddie and marisol together is them in his house being domestic and smiling at his son as if they’re both his parents….. i know ryan said their relationship would be up and down and later on eddie is considering how she fits in his life, but they seem to be serious and settled real quick. like not only has she met chris already but she’s hanging at their house with them?? hmm what are your initial thoughts post-premiere?

Okay, imma start this off by saying I only watched the episode once and I usually type my metas and theories out after at least 2 watches (I do one for the plot and one for details) so I might come back to this later. Also, my first reaction to this was actually "Shannon's ghost had more screentime, we're fine". But one, we didn't actually see the date, we saw Eddie telling Buck about the date, even Ana had multiple dates we saw as they happened not as flashbacks, and Eddie was having panic attacks about her. Two, the show made a big show of how Chris is being supportive this time around and Eddie has this whole no secrets thing with Chris policy so Marisol being at the house makes some sense when you look at it that way. Three, this one is less about the episode and more about Eddie's character as a whole, Eddie overcorrects with everything that went wrong once. From telling Chris he can do anything and being ready to crush that because Chris fell off a skateboard to quitting without a second thought because Chris was scared. Tia Pepa said he's gonna die alone, so he went golfing and hiking to meet people when we never saw him golfing or hiking. His automatic reaction to doing something wrong is to do the opposite. And that reflects on his relationships too. He barged into the loft because Buck was mopping after almost dying and that ended with Buck and Chris getting caught in the tsunami, so the next time Buck died, he stayed off Maddie's list and waited for Buck to come to him. He held Shannon at arm's length for months and then she died so he lost months he could've had with her, so when Buck apologizes he forgives him with no hesitation. Shannon kept accusing him of not actually being present in their relationship with him joining the army, so he's all with Ana way too fast. And that could be the case with Marisol too. I stand by the fact we still don't have enough information on Marisol to get anything definitive, which in itself is proof they are not trying to make us care about her or the relationship, but the thing it's the couples episode, the characters reintroduction episode, the show of dynamics episode, and Marisol's introduction as Eddie's girlfriend episode, and it has more of Eddie's dead wife than his girlfriend (which is exactly what I needed, justice for Shannon Diaz and the way she was written to be fridged). Sure, Marisol is chaperoning with Eddie, but Eddie is talking to Buck about the date, not in the date, so the date is not even relevant enough for us to actually see it, and sure she's existing in the same space as Chris but when Eddie needs actual help with the situation, he goes to Buck. We also don't know how she met Chris, and we didn't see them interact, so we don't know how she exists in Chris' life yet. So, like, we're fine.

And also, Buck and Eddie have some personal growth to do before they can get together in a satisfying way and that could absolutely come from low-stakes relationships with other people, like Eddie learning to have fun and Buck learning how to ask for things.