#I have so many questions about Steve music taste

[alexjcrowley]

I like how, despite the edgy apperance, Eddie is this kind ray of sunshine who listens to metal all the time while Steve, despite the preppy appearance, has a master in Death Glare while listening to, i don't know, Madonna I think.

[rebelspykatie]

Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football. 

The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 

But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 

So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 

Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 

He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 

Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.

After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 

Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 

He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 

He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

My brain refuses to sleep, so more drabbling! Probably modern-ish AU?

Steve makes a career for himself as a re-decorator (or de-decorator, as he loves to call himself). His clientele are those celebrities who rose to fame so quickly they have plenty of money, but they don't have time to make their houses feel like home. They just bought penthouses and mansions and now live in homes that are fancy, but they feel like hotels.

Steve is there to fix that.

One of his clients is the hard working rockstar Eddie Munson whose life path went from a trailer park to couch surfing to living with 4 people in a tiny apartment, then suddenly tours, hotels and boom! He has a house that looks like an IKEA prop.

He doesn't hide his distaste at the pristine condition of the place (yes, Eddie has a cleaner). "Oh god. A beige carpet?" he scoffs and he sounds so bitchy Eddie decides he likes him already.

He likes him even more when Steve puts on reading glasses. Damn.

Over coffee, they discuss what Eddie wants. Except Steve doesn't just...tell him. He doesn't give him any hints. He just keeps asking about Eddie's favorite colors, what movies he likes, does he have hobbies apart from music? Can Steve see some of the items that bring him comfort?

And Eddie's surprised. "Shouldn't you, like...be telling me what I'm supposed to want?" he asks the gorgeous man who almost wails when he sees the vase with fresh flowers ("This is the third place in a row that has this fugly thing! Is it like a status symbol? Uh, tasteless.").

And Steve just stares at him. "Uh, Mr. Munson?"

"Eddie."

Steve nods. "Eddie. Why should I have any say in what you want? If you ask me what's practical, easy to clean, what bounces off light well, that's another thing. But in matters of taste...you're the boss. You live here, I don't. (Pity, Eddie thinks) Now, let's change this place into somewhere you actually like staying, hm?"

They spend the whole afternoon talking. Eddie opens up about what he loved before the touring and expectations from his agent took that from him. He talks about the Lord of the Rings, Dungeons and Dragons, fantasy in general, and Steve listens, makes tons of notes and asks questions that make Eddie's heart bleed, such as "and who is your favorite Lord of the Rings character?" and "you mentioned elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards...so what is your favorite group?" and "which DnD class would you be then? I guess a bard? Is that too obvious?". Now, Steve doesn't know much about these things, but learns quickly and works with the info he has.

They walk through the house again, with Steve making notes and wincing at transgressions against humanity or at least against his taste in things ("Oh ew. EW. Glossy finish on a kitchen counter? What is this, a future crime scene?") and Eddie feeling equally amused and curious. Eddie orders dinner for them, it goes something like:

"I don't know what would be appropriate, any preferences?"

"Eddie, there's no time or space when pizza is not appropriate."

"What about a funeral?"

"It puts fun in a funeral."

"Touché."

They follow up on a bunch more things. Steve notices Eddie fidgeting and asks him like the mindreader he is if perhaps the place is too clean for him. "Minimalism is what everyone's trying to push," Steve says, not without sympathy, "but it's not for everyone. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a person who'd love a more....personal, cluttered space."

And god, Eddie feels so seen. He tells Steve about all his favorite books and trinkets that he lost during a horrible earthquake in Indiana, so when he moved to the city it was just some clothes and his two guitars. Steve makes so many notes. "I've seen quite a lot of collectibles for your beloved trilogy," he says with a hint of a smile. "Is that something you'd like in your home?" Eddie can't nod any faster.

They talk about the budget (Eddie just scoffs at that, for the first time in his life money is not an issue), Eddie's absolute no go things ("No more vases, please! PLEASE. Also maybe the one room that can stay as it is is the studio, there's no decor"), if he has issues touching any materials, if he wants to keep any areas in the house neutral for visitors (he doesn't). Then finally, he asks Eddie if he wants to be more consulted or surprised.

And Eddie, tired and surprisingly relaxed from talking to Steve, just grins and says: "Surprise me, big boy."

Steve just smirks and makes one more note. "Oh, I will, Eddie."

...

Eddie goes on yet another tour for a couple of months, which is the ideal time for Steve to start working on the house.

Steve sometimes texts Eddie random choices, such as "Rohan or Gondor or both?" or "what's the best pub in the Middle Earth?" and Eddie usually trips over his feet trying to get to his phone after concerts to see if maybe he has another message from Steve. He learns bits and pieces about the man as well - he has a younger brother, Dustin, who is into the same stuff that Eddie is. Sometimes it goes like this:

STEVE: What's the best battle in the LotR movies?

EDDIE: The Ride of the Rohirrim, duh!

STEVE: Dustin says you're wrong, it's the last stand at the gates of Mordor.

EDDIE: The disrespect to king Théoden!

And finally, the big day comes. Eddie meets with Steve at the door. From the outside, the house still looks boring, but that's what they agreed on. At least for now.

But there's one notable difference and Eddie gasps when he sees it.

"I know we said no changes on the outside," said Steve sheepishly, "but I took the liberty to make one slight change."

Where the door used to be bland and white, it is now carved with silver etchings. It replicates the Doors of Durin. Eddie loves it.

Steve smiles at him. "Speak friend and enter, right? Dustin told me. Anyways, are you ready?"

Turns out, Eddie wasn't ready. Steve took all of the shiny and sterile surfaces and turned them into something beautiful.

The kitchen is now in warmer colors, brown and green, imitating the Green Dragon inn, plaque included.

Guest rooms have been changed, each to represent a group or a nation of the Middle Earth. Eddie thinks his uncle will love the Rohirrim one.

No more vases are to be seen, but Steve got potted plants ("almost immortal, as long as your housekeeper waters them once a week or so").

Eddie howls in laughter when he sees that Steve somehow managed to disguise all his security cameras as tiny eyes of Sauron.

The bathroom is inspired by the Rivendell, with soft tones and nods to Elvish architecture.

Eddie's bedroom resembles the Shire, with round shapes and homely motifs.

But Eddie's absolute favorite is the living room.

The only things that remain there that he bought are the massive TV and his stereo system with records. The rest though...

Gone is the ugly and sharp couch that looked like a geometry exercise. The new one is large and comfortable, with a couple of armchairs to finish the cozy feel. The coffee table and TV stand are more rough looking, with decorative ironwork. And then, around the room and on the walls...

"Oh wow," whispers Eddie and Steve beams at him.

There are collectibles and figurines that young Eddie Munson would have killed for. A replica of the Narsil hangs over the TV. It's cluttered but tasteful, still easy to clean, but Eddie always has something to touch, to play with.

And then he spots the bookcase and actually sobs. "What the fuck, Steve?" he asks, but there's no anger, just awe. "How did you know?"

The bookcase is full of Eddie's most beloved books, all that he told Steve about and more, but it's not just that. These aren't just pristine new prints - Steve managed to get both those and well-loved used copies. Most of them are the same editions that Eddie had before the earthquake. He runs his trembling finger over the back of the Hobbit and it feels like home.

"That was the hardest part," says Steve and leaves Eddie to rummage through the books, the old DnD guides and used comic books. "But I assumed you're sick of new and shiny. In fact, most of the collectibles are already used as well. They have some history. As for the books, uh..." He scratches his neck, embarrassed. "I will be honest, I don't read much. Dyslexia and some issues with the eyes, although audio books are making it more possible for me now. So I had to ask Dustin for help. We looked for editions published before the earthquake. I hope we got some of them right?"

Eddie just mutters "Sorry, I'm about to do something really unprofessional now" and pulls Steve into a bear hug. And Steve reciprocates.

"Fuck, this...this is everything," says Eddie into his shoulder. "How did you do this? Are you magic. You must be magic."

Steve grins. "I take it the surprise was a success then?"

Eddie finally pulls back. He would have loved to keep embracing Steve for a bit longer, but boundaries. "A total one. Wow. I mean. It's a lot, but so good. SO GOOD. How can I repay you?"

"You already paid me, Eddie."

"You know what I mean!" Eddie points and the books and apparently also a DVD collection he now owns. "This must have been so much more work than you normally do, no? I doubt every client has you memorize the members of the Fellowship."

"Not just that, but also why Sam is the best," Steve smiles at him and fuck. Eddie might be in love. "It was more than usual, but I loved it, Eddie. That's why I like my job so much, helping people find themselves again. You don't owe me anything. Although, if you're offering..."

"I'm listening."

Steve runs his fingers through that majestic hair. "So, I didn't tell Dustin that I was decorating the house for you, but he's a huge fan of your music. Like, massive, has every album, has been following your career from the start. And feel free to tell me it's too much, you are my client after all, but...he'd love to meet you. Over a pizza, maybe? The plain ham and cheese one you like so it doesn't have too many flavors?"

And Eddie melts. Because Steve still remembers his pizza choice from months ago, even though this definitely wasn't in his notes. He decides there and then that Steven Harrington is a national treasure.

"Sure, big boy," he smiles at Steve, and hopes he didn't imagine Steve leaning into the touch. "How about you invite him over for a movie night or something? With pizza of course."

It looks like Steve could kiss him, but he doesn't. Not yet. That only happens a week later, when they bump into each other in Eddie's kitchen when they scramble to make more popcorn for Dustin.

Steve stays the next night. And maybe a few after that. Always in a different themed bedroom.

They travel for work a lot, but when they are both in Chicago, they always meet in the Green Dragon kitchen, cuddle in the bed that would be far too large for a hobbit, and in the night, Eddie wraps himself around Steve and whispers: "My preciousssss."

And Steve can't really complain, because it's his fault that his boyfriend has re-discovered his dorkiness, so why would he mind?

[steddielations]

Upstaged | Part 2 | Part 1

It all makes sense.

When Eddie comes back from taking photos with the fans, he looks a little sheepish for the first time. Steve has about a million things to ask, mostly he just wants to laugh about the fucking odds, but he remembers the grace Eddie extended to him about the press ordeal.

Instead, he settles back with his lime soda and a simple question, “So, what kind of music are you into?”

A grateful smile breaks out across Eddie’s face, ecstatic to dive into that with Steve. Their lunch extends into dinner. Steve doesn’t have anywhere to be these days and Eddie practically jumps up and down when the meeting he was in the area for gets canceled. They stay there for a couple more hours, just talking. 

Their music taste overlaps at certain points, Eddie talks about how getting his first guitar from the pawn shop pretty much saved him, Steve recounts a little league story that makes Eddie laugh so hard he chokes on his soda.

It’s the most monumentally casual time Steve’s ever had with a new friend in public and he’s not ready for it to end. Even after exchanging numbers and promising to meet up again, they still linger together outside.

“So uh, I remember where I know you from now."

Eddie leans against the side of the building. It’s getting dark, they’re tucked away from any eyes so Steve freely scoots closer to Eddie, waiting for him to explain. He does after a moment, seeming nervous and fiddling with his rings.

“I hate to ask, but my Uncle is huge into baseball, especially you and your general all-around-awesome thing. There weren’t players like you to look up to when he was young, all that. I’ve seen you on his tv so many times, you’re basically part of the family— ah shit, that’s weird, sorry,” he cringes a little, scrunching his nose in a way that makes Steve’s chest clench with affection, “But he’s getting old and like I said earlier, he’s my rock, he raised me and I won’t forgive myself if I don’t at least ask you to come see him sometime.”

The way he rambles is pretty endearing, looking at Steve with a wide-eyed hopeful expression, as if there was even a chance Steve would say no.

He reaches out, gently takes Eddie’s hand to stop his restless fidgeting, “You want me to meet your folks already, hm?”

Eddie lets out an amused scoff, looking down at their hands and back at Steve like he can’t believe it. “You’re not as funny as you think you are, Steve.” 

Steve knits his brows, “Why’s that?”

“C’mon man. Y’know how hard it is to find someone who can handle this lifestyle, let alone all the shit that comes with me,” shaking his head a little, Eddie smiles but there’s something aching in it, “Then the nicest looking guy I’ve ever seen comes outta nowhere and saves my life, agrees to go to lunch, happens too know as well as me that life in the limelight ain’t always pretty and turns out to be one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

His fingers thread through Steve’s, holding tight like he’s not sure it’s real. “Even if I never see you again, I’m gonna write songs about you. I’d take you home and keep you right now if I could, but that’s not happening.”

There’s a part of Steve he’s kept shut down for years that comes pumping through his veins then, hot and alive. He realizes that he’s been trying so hard to keep his life as normal as possible that he’s been missing out on actually living it. Now he has this wonderful, crazy, wonderful man spontaneously in front of him and he’s not letting him slip away. 

Steve moves in, slowly crowding Eddie against the wall. Eddie’s eyes go a little wide with surprise then darken with desire. Steve watches his face shift through so many emotions, his mouth parting with a soft gasp, wanting this just as badly as Steve.

“Wanna bet?” Steve asks before he crashes into Eddie again. 

This time it’s a hot press of lips instead of a full-body collision, but it’s just as breathtaking.

Steve deepens the kiss, thrill prickling all across his skin when Eddie opens up for him right away. Steve licks passed the bright hint of lime on their tongues to get to Eddie. The heady taste of him makes Steve’s world spin, all the desperate noises between them going straight to his head.

“Want you so bad, Eddie, wanna keep you too,” he threads his fingers into all that hair, reveling in the shiver it elicits from Eddie, “God, just wanna have you.”

Eddie chases his lips, “You can, Steve, you can have me— please do.”  

Steve loves the sound of that, going in for a longer, more indulgent kiss before pulling back.

“You can’t take me home tonight,” he professes hotly against Eddie’s lips, “My place is closer, you’re coming with me.”

[oh-stars]

Special Treatment

Love is letting him pick the music.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 519 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G

--

It comes to no surprise that Eddie’s particular about his music. He doesn’t hate other types, despite what he says and how he reacts to Wayne cranking up the bluegrass or the old school country. In fact, he loves exploring new genres and figuring out how they work. It’s what makes his songwriting so strong, he thinks. 

But he’s spent too many years hearing how awful his music preference is. People shitting on his bands and his taste because they don’t understand, they’re not listening to it. They’re not even trying to hear what he has to say, what the music is trying to tell them. They just say it’s all screams and unnecessary guitar riffs. 

So yes, he gets defensive and he’ll be the first to scrunch his nose up at other genres to keep up this scary façade he wears like armor. 

“Do we have to listen to Madonna again?” Eddie whines as he drapes along Jane’s shoulders, putting all his weight on her. 

She giggles and pushes at him. “Yes!” 

And when the boys climb into his van on the way to school or Hellfire, Dustin asks without fail if they can play Weird Al. Eddie always scoffs and swats at his hand. “No one,” Eddie says with a severity he usually keeps for Hellfire alone, “touches my radio.” 

“No one?” Dustin will counter, narrowing his eyes. 

Eddie glowers. “No one.” 

That’s how he likes things. With only the closest people knowing how he really feels about music, how deep his love goes that it transcends genre. He’s not heartless, he can appreciate a good tune no matter the nasally singer or funky lyrics. It’s just not something he advertises to the general public, or even his friends. 

But then he’ll be driving Steve out to the little cafe he likes a few towns over, a day trip just the two of them, and Steve will happily swap tapes the entire way there. Sometimes it’s a mixtape, blending their tastes together, and other times he’ll pop Eddie’s tapes in and ask questions, replaying songs so he can try to make out the lyrics.

He tries to understand what Eddie hears, even if he doesn’t. 

Eddie was destined to fall no matter what. 

And when they’re at the trailer, hanging out with Wayne, and Steve changes Eddie’s tape for an old Johnny Cash one of Wayne’s, Eddie doesn’t make his usual comments. He doesn’t whine or stomp his foot, even for the hell of it to rile up Wayne, not when Steve’s singing along softly to the lyrics. 

He doesn’t want Steve to feel the way he did about his own music, not when he gets enough shit from the kids about his other interests. 

Wayne raises an eyebrow at him, smirking as he leans back in his recliner. 

Eddie shrugs. He knows his feelings are written along his face clear as day, but he can’t find it in him to care. All he can do is get up and crank the volume up so they can belt along to Cash’s voice to “I Walk The Line.” 

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind!

Ao3 Link

[undercoverpena]

a pile of cards

javier peña x f!reader | part four of the birthday bash

summary: it’s become a tradition. he presents you with a birthday card so you can collect his words, while he collects the expressions you share as you read them.

warnings/themes: javi through the seasons, narcos season two/three spoilers. cute, fluff. happy ending. wordcount: 3.8k

It began because he didn’t want to be empty-handed. 

Murphy and Connie’s pink bag of tissue put him on edge as they stood outside his door. Fidgeting. Hurrying him along.

Normally, it’s not him being dragged somewhere, but rather he doing the dragging.

His arm never needing to be twisted to go to a bar. It, in more recent times, has become a hobby of his to find a way to bury the day—sometimes by liquor, other times by other means. 

He’d lied with relative ease that he needed them to make a stop—needing smokes. Once inside, he grabbed the first card he felt was relevant and used the scratchy pen belonging to the man behind the counter to sign it.

Now, he’s outside the bar.

The one a bit further out than he usually goes. It’s calm, maybe too much. There are fairy lights swinging overhead the gathering in the outside area, the Colombian heat still laying its thick hands over those invited to your shindig—even as the sun tries to set. 

The words, “It’ll be fun”, came back to him. That you’re new, working with the CIA. Connie periodically interjecting that you’re funny, nice.

Javi swallows the questions about how she knows, just sitting silently in the back like a child dragged somewhere he didn’t want to go.

Mainly, he had wanted to question how he’d met the new recruit, and he hadn’t. He didn’t. Swallowing it, letting its bitter taste scratch his throat as it sank down.

It’s rising now, clogging his oesophagus. Making it hard to force normalcy as he walks in rhythm with the Murphys to the cheers and shouts.

There’s laughter swirling, too. Music—all loud and chirpy—making him more aware of the gun in the back of his jeans, a nervous tinge to his twitching fingers.

Because Medellín parties haven’t fared well in the past. Not even recently.

His apprehension only settles as they reach the familiar faces—the ones who take one look at three of them and remain unsure what to do with their faces.

It dawns on him then that maybe he hasn’t made friends with the CIA lot well. Preferring his game of winding them up more than Murphy.

He’s about to comment on it, when Connie shrieks. A flash of colour bounds their way until arms wrap around both her and Murphy.

Him standing, leaning his weight more on one foot as he studies the exchange. Observing. Getting bits and pieces from Connie’s excited chatter. You look pretty, like your dress, you shouldn’t have, and then when he is all set to roll his eyes, he sees you.

Realising what Connie means. 

All bright eyes. A smile that renders him momentarily useless. The thing in his throat vanished, replaced by dryness and confusion.

“Hey, birthday girl, need t’introduce you to someone,” Steve says, turning to him, “This is my partner, meet Javier Peña.”

He tries not to stare but finds he does all the same. His brain wracking itself trying to place you, work out where, if, he’s seen you before. Unsure how he hasn’t seen you before—this enigma of a person who is suddenly friends with so many around him. 

Not even recognising you in passing. 

And he’d remember. Dragging his eyes up and down the dress hugging your body, he’d definitely remember. 

“Hi, Javier. Thank you for also coming? Drinks are not on me or the house, and if you order any food, I have to have some.” 

Snorting, he wipes his jaw. “That right?” 

Nodding, you take a sip of a beer you’re handed. “Birthday rules, I’m afraid.” 

“I—um. Got you a card?” 

He watches as your smile goes through a spectrum of types before it lands on a smirk. Finger and thumb taking it from his hand with a glint in your eye—one he can’t pick apart. Fucking CIA. 

Javi also notices that Steve’s brows are so close to his fucking hairline, it makes the man looks ridiculous.

“Ha-Happy birthday.” 

Placing the beer bottle down, you glance back at him before unpeeling the envelope. Sliding it out, staring at the very generic card.

Nothing else inside it except, what he hopes is your name, Happy Birthday and signed with Javier. 

“You… you don’t know me, do you?” 

He considers lying before he smirks. “Why’d you say that?” 

“You spelt my name wrong,” you add, tongue in cheek as you grin. “But, I’ll forgive you if you buy me a drink.” 

Steve snorts to the left of him, trying to disguise it behind his hand. “Be nice, Jav. She’s joining us in a few months. In the DEA.” 

Shrugging, Javi snorts. “What you drinkin’ birthday girl?”

In a year, he’s learnt several things about you. 

One that you have awful taste when it comes to dating. Two, you like your coffee black. Three, you do not smoke. Four, you care about him (even if you attempt to bury it under snark and sarcasm when it rears its head).

Yet somehow, on the anniversary of your two’s meeting, he finds you outside. Alone. A cigarette in between your fingers, burning, smoke ascending as you stare across the city. 

“Y’know the party is in there, right?” 

Smiling, you nod. Running a hand up and down your arm. Little bumps spread over exposed skin as you cast your eyes out to the city—the one sprinkled with lights that grow in numbers as the stars begin to twinkle. 

“You spell my name right this year?” 

Snorting, Javi steps out further onto the veranda—the palm fronds swinging, the scent of your Marlboro reaching his nostrils. 

He doesn’t think when another breeze brushes in, his jacket in his hand—extended out. You turn your head, facing him, the smallest crease between your brows before he watches you hand him the smoke, and feels your fingers brush against his—a buzz, a shockwave—passing up his fingertips to his wrist and arm. 

Then it’s gone. 

His leather jacket around your shoulders, his fingers twitching—wishing to smoke what you handed him. His own very much resting on your hip (both his lighter and packet in the pocket resting on your frame). 

“Anything else come with the card this year?” 

Lips parted, an open-mouthed smirk sliding into one cheek, as he watched you tip back your drink. Eyes not leaving him. Stuck, fixed—waiting. 

“You can smoke that, by the way.”

He notices it’s not stained with lipstick or gloss. Bringing it to his lips, taking a drag that instantly settles the fluttering in his stomach.

Holding your gaze a little longer. “You got something in mind?” 

Shrugging, you’re the one to break the stare. Pulling his jacket more around your shoulders—all unreadable, a mystery. 

“Just thought, it’s been a year—you might have treated me.”

He almost chokes and splutters. Almost.

A part of him wants to ask how much you’ve drank, because you’re being bold—bolder than normal. Also, because he very much wants to.

While Javi isn’t normally an asking-permission kind of man, he felt he needed to with you. Even if all he thinks about doing is treating you. 

On his desk. 

In the file room. 

In his car after a long shift when the two of you walk out together. 

Tonight, in your ridiculously tight clothes that do nothing to help him continue to be a gentleman. 

Because you’re on his team, you do good work. You’re good for Murphy and especially good for him. 

When you bring him coffee just because, when you’re talking to Murphy or translating for him, but your eyes slide to him. Sometimes when he finds himself in the same bar as you, your posture relaxed, eyes somewhat glazed as someone he doesn’t recognise has their arm around you. 

You populate his mind, like seeds were buried in him at your first meeting, and have been blooming ever since.

In the year since he was first really introduced to you, he’s had many thoughts about you. Wondering what it would take to get your pupils to swallow the colour in your eyes, whether you’d say his name full of gasp or prettily. Whether you’re as beautiful in real life when you come, as you are when he dreams of you. 

“But, guess I’m not your type.” 

He snorts, tracing his bottom lip with his tongue as he assesses you. Unsure how you could be so wrong, when he knows you’re usually so right. 

Your fingers pull his jacket around you, fiddling, a nervousness to each movement. 

“What?” 

Smirking, you lick your lips. “I hear things.” 

“Good things?” 

Snorting, he watches as you do that playful roll of your eyes. “Mixed bag, if I’m honest.” 

Kicking off from the post, he finds your eyes don’t leave his. Not even as he begins to step closer, deciding to test his theory.

Flicking the smoke from his hand, Javi tries not to second-guess himself under your wider eyes, taking him in, swallowing him. He never gets nervous, never questions it.

Until you. It’s not until he’s so close to you the gap between you both is suspicious at best if someone were to come out and find you.

But, you don’t push him away. Don’t even begin to question any of it. You just keep looking from his eyes down to his lips.

The moment slowing— sound of the bar’s jeers growing more distant as the space around the two of you fades to nothing. 

It’s almost poetic, if not for the reason the two of you are here. That the task at hand, outside of cards, drinks and birthdays, is to end the war on drugs 

“Javier?” 

He swallows, and then he moves. Gently. Softly, slowly sliding his mouth over yours as he feels you stiffen, before you relax. A purposeful movement of your lips against his, fingers finding a place on his neck and cheek. 

You taste like sweetness, sin and something that leaves a lingering spice. A taste he’d love to chase—something he’d enjoy taking apart and having splayed across his sheets for hours. 

He turns you, shifting you from your place until your spine meets a post—hand on your cheek, keeping you close, tongue sliding past your teeth as he swallows a whimper (that he hopes is his name).

His own groan vibrates through you, feeling it in his palm as it rests on your jaw. 

A part of him wants to urge you into his truck, drive you back to his and make up for lost time. But the sound of a bottle breaking from somewhere inside pulls his lips from yours. A reminder, a bold one—all written in large font and the blackest of ink. 

It’s your birthday. Your party. 

You seem to know, smiling up at him—a glazed overcast of pleasure in your eyes.  

“Thank you for coming, Javi.” 

Brushing his knuckles up and down your cheek, his lips slide into a one-sided smile. “Wouldn’t have missed it.” 

Another year, but it’s now a different kind of party. 

Murphy excuses himself with slurred words, stumbling out of your room—telling him he’ll see him in theirs soon. Leaving just you, with just him. 

Javi’s decided he hates Medellín.

He did before they were basically on lockdown in the building. Hands tied by paperwork and Messina’s form instructions.

“Let me guess…” you say, all sweet—with wine-filled eyes. 

Javi pulls out a card from his back pocket, a smirk sliding over to one side of his face—watching as your eyes flick over his face before landing on the off-white envelope. 

It happens quickly, which is why he doesn’t drag his eyes away.

The sparkle in your eye that travels to your lips—the soft, sweet smile which could light up a room if you ever let it show. Mostly, he watches for the sight of you sliding into yourself—all that fake confidence disappearing for a moment. He sees speckles of it when he removes the last piece of fabric from your skin, when you get shy, even if it’s just him.

Javi doesn’t remember other people’s birthdays. He doesn’t ever buy them coffee. He who doesn’t want to watch, study, or admire, the reaction such a gesture brings. 

There are now even very few he likes being between the thighs of—not that he’ll admit it.

He does care about the people in his life, latches on—has a need to fix and save them. Caring for Murphy, Connie, Olivia, and then the more obvious ones, his Pop, those back home. Then there are the ones he cares for differently, Gabby, and the other women he tangles himself with.

And then, not fitting in any of those piles specifically, there’s you.

You who doesn’t need him to save you. You don’t need him to fix you. Perfectly content to do so yourself, to let him see all the fractured shards and pieces of yourself you don’t love. 

It’s why he suspects it’s different with you. 

Why it’s more than needing to make your back arch, toes curl and chant his name. Why on some level, he craves you handing him control—letting him in, pulling back the curtains that bit more to see the other parts of you that you’re more afraid to let anyone see. 

“‘Happy birthday to the one who sometimes bruises her knees for me’. Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a poet?” 

Smirking, he wipes his mouth with his thumb. “Poet, no. Good with my fingers, yes.” 

You put the card on the table, leaning closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

And it’s more than stress relief—more than friends who fuck. Especially as he runs his hands down your arms, letting them slide down until they innocently rest on your waist—desperation thumping through his veins to kiss you. 

At some stage, you had gone from tasting like a sin to tasting like happiness. A ray of something. A thing which warms inside of him, fanning out, dashing through his nerves when he’s close to you. 

It’s sometimes why he goes to Gabby. 

Not deserving of it—the way you look at him. The way you make him feel. How you see him, all of him, accepting of all the sides of him.

Plus, there's the realisation that in the year of whatever dance it is that the two of you are doing, you’ve become more of a necessity than a want. 

He likes you being around, curled up close against him—in whatever form that is. He savours the moments when you don’t dress immediately, letting his fingers run up and down your arm. He enjoys the moments when you turn up, swallowing his greeting with your lips as you ask him to simply ruin you.   

You don’t like feelings. 

They’re about on par with nearly as much as you like your birthday, hating that people change and how things alter. 

Normally, he’s happy to convince you otherwise, but in truth, he may hate this one of your birthdays too. 

Not because he wishes he’d got the flowers or that your perfume is weaving its way into his senses. But rather, despite that, he wishes he’d picked you up something more, and he wishes your scent bled into his clothes, skin and soul. 

Because Javi is pretty sure he’s just realised he likes you. 

He wishes he could have kissed the smile on your face when you read the card, knowing he’ll always wonder what it tasted of. 

He likes you more than just someone he rolls around in the sheets with. And a lot more than someone he spends the occasional evening with, curling up on the sofa and falling asleep. 

And, deep down, he’s not sure what the fuck that even means.

It’s a curse being sent back.

Both because of him missing out on Escobar being taken down, because he’s in the States, while you’re in Colombia. 

The words he should have said rested between the card and nib of his pen.

I like you. I’m sorry for the shit I did.

More apologies sitting on his chest. Like the fact he kept it all from you, only seeing the look in your eye when he was packing—filled in by someone else. 

You hadn’t seemed mad. But rather wounded, hurt. A crease in your expression he wanted to smooth out with more than fingers and lips, but rather words.

Should have told me. 

That was all you said. Four words. Letting them strike, pierce into his skin as you tapped your fingers on the door frame he shared with Murphy. And then, you made yourself scarce.

A part of him hoping, less secretly than he’d normally let show, that you’d appear at the airport. But you didn’t.

Now he was missing another thing.

A thing that wouldn’t be on his file, but had made a permanent mark on him all the same.

By the time he sees you with this particular card, your birthday will have long passed. Another thing he’s failed at. 

Because he’s not even heard from you. 

You still haven’t returned a single one of his calls. 

Your anger being felt across countries at this point. But, maybe he’ll see you if you accept the job. Even if the dynamic is different, no Murphy alongside the two of you, he hopes you do.

Hope you take the chance to work together again—with him, an equal, even if the title is under him. 

Because he’s not sure he can do it alone. Not sure he can take down Cali without you.

It’s late. 

Midnight black paints the world as he slips the key into the door, turning the lock with more care than he usually ever shows.

It still sounds loud, as are his footsteps as he flicks on the light as he first enters. Bag dumped near scattered shoes, coat sliding from his frame as he checks the door is locked once, twice, thrice.

A habit he’s picked up, adopted as if it was his own.

Once it’s done, the checklist complete—by that, he's rid of keys, wallet and possessions. The thing he hasn't parted with in days becomes heavy in his pocket—the card.

The one he wrote days ago, and should have left here for you to open. 

Even if he likes handing it to you. He likes how you collect his cards, and he collects your expressions. 

He has minutes left to uphold this tradition, not wanting a repeat—another tally against his name.

Moving through the small place, he spots the cake on the kitchen counter. The one with a slide missing and a candle still on the top. His stomach lurching. Guilt blooming. 

You understand. Your fingers on his cheek, arm around his waist as you tell him all the right words, brushing out any doubts and questions.

One day.

That’s what you always say.

Something he repeats as he swipes his fingers against the cream, tasting the sugar and sweetness. One day he’ll be here when you bake it, a person witness to the candle being lit and your wish being made.

Now, he just moves through the rest of his dark place. Pushing open the bedroom door.

Light cascading in from the hall light, spotting you immediately all splayed out across the bed. One of his shirts in your fingers, an old tee of his on your frame, and a peaceful look on your face that he’s been missing since the moment he'd needed to go to Cali. 

He doesn’t want to wake you, but he also selfishly does. 

Just so he can use the last minutes of your day to do your usual tradition. To be able to show you he didn’t forget, and let you read the message this time.

The words which have been mounting, mixing with the pressure which rests on his shoulders more and more as they grow closer to seeing the godfathers in cuffs.

Instead, he brushes your bare thigh, just to feel, to touch. Feeling how you calm him, eradicate the annoyances of his day—his week. Not even noticing that you’re shifting, twitching, until he hears:

“Javi?” 

Sleep-filled and hazy, you’re blinking. Even in the limited light, you look beautiful. Something he tells you, earning him a crooked smile—likely not believing him, because you never do.

He’s quick, removing his hand (spotting the light frown near your brow) before he pulls the card from his back pocket, spotting the way the envelope has a deep line that has been born from where it’s been bent. 

“¡Feliz cumpleaños, cariño!”

His words bury over his inward curse. A new part, fresh and more strong, making him wish he’d kept the card here so it looked more presentable. Even if he liked having it, his thumb brushing over his back pocket like he had a piece of you with him.

Smiling, you shift on the bed, dragging the sheet with you as you take the card. 

He watches as you lick your lips, rubbing sleep from your eye before you unpeel it. Sliding it out. 

Javi hears his pulse in his ear. Thumping. All loud, to the point he’s sure you must be able to hear. It's almost full of bass, like it’s trying to make a song—one he’d call after you, and play it all the time.

Because you’re the only one who makes him feel like this. His hands sliding up his trousers, wiping the growing sweat from his palm. 

“You nervous, baby?” 

He smirks, shifting his weight. 

“I always like your cards.” 

It lessens—the smirk. Instead, it spreads into a smile. One you always get him to wear, like a spell you’ve cast over him since you two first met all those years ago. 

Clearing your throat, you look at the card, “To the one I love on your birthday,” you whisper.

Eyes lingering, re-reading, before your head snaps up. 

It’s clear to him that it takes a second to register and connect. 

“Wait, Javi, you lo…” 

Shrugging, he tilts his head. 

Your hands lower to your lap, eyes narrowed. 

“Say it,” you add, more demand in your tone than he’d expected for someone asleep a few moments ago. “Please.”

“Bit late for the please, querida.” 

Eyes narrowing, you close the card, hands falling to your lap. “Javi—“

“I love you. Te amo. I love y….” 

Slowly, you move. Crawling towards him. Hand cupping his cheek, forehead pressing to his as his fingers find purpose on your thigh and hip. 

“I love you too.” 

He tightens his hold on you, feeling you sit more in his lap. Fingers brushing over his cheek, wiping the stress free from his face—removing the weight from his shoulders. 

“And I’m glad you’re back,” you add. 

“Hate leaving you.” 

“One day you won’t, right?” 

Nodding, he sees the flashes of things he wants when he blinks and dreams. When he lets himself plan and think ahead of right now. 

“Good. Best present you could have given me.” 

Snorting, he runs his nose against yours. “Haven’t given you anything yet.” 

Smirking, you hover your lips over his. “I’ll be taking that in a second.” 

“I do love you.” 

“I believe you. But, I think you should show me,” you whisper, capturing his lips. 

And he does. Even if the time has ticked past midnight.

an: thank you to everyone for all welcoming me into the pp community. also, apologies if there are errors, this one is phone-written as I've been celebrating :)

[wildflowerluver]

cherry

steve harrington x fem!reader

steve has a habit of ordering your opposite

cw: eating/food, she/her pronouns, steve is so in love, reader struggles making decisions, one slight nsfw comment 

wc: 1.1k

༺♡༻

hawkins summers are brutal.

being a landlocked state meant no access to an ocean, otherwise known as the best place to cool off.

steve made sure the two of you avoided lover’s lake like the plague too.

it was crowded, murky, and filled with far too many people that steve would be okay with never seeing again. 

you and steve find time together whenever you can. his pool is usually occupied by the party during the day and occasionally the night but with him working at family video and you at the record store, days are often spent dealing with nagging customers instead of each other.

steve calls you while you’re at work. you know he is too, probably bored out of his mind from organizing movies.

both you and him are very grateful neither of your bosses check the phone log. either of you would without a doubt be questioned on the multitudes of calls between family video and jason lee’s music store.

“hey,” he greets. “got any plans for tonight?”

you twirl the phone cord around your finger. “i was hoping my boyfriend was available to hang out but he hasn’t asked me. so i mean i guess i’m free.”

no matter the length you and steve have been dating, the shameless flirting and honeymoon stage hasn’t seemed to waver.

“well if he hasn’t asked you then i guess it’s my time to shine,” he started. “what time do you get off?”

“six ‘clock,” you answer.

“i’ll pick you up then.” he doesn’t explain your plans but you don’t mind. being with steve is enough.

“it’s a date,” you confirm.

you faintly hear the bell chime in the background on his end.

“alright i gotta get going, new wave of customers,” steve groans. “i’ll see you soon, though. i love you!”

you blush. “i love you too.”

___

you’re out the door at 6:01, the extra minute needed for clocking out and collecting your things.

just like he promised, steve is waiting in the parking lot. he’s out of the car, leaning against the hood with his arms crossed. 

you falter for a moment at his appearance. he’s shed his family video vest, leaving him in just a white t-shirt with two stripes and jeans, specifically the ones that hug his thighs perfectly.

“hi baby,” steve greets. his arms circle around you, pulling you into him as he sighs. “feels like i haven’t seen you in forever.”

you giggle. “i saw you yesterday.” 

he shakes his head. “too long.”

the convenience store is right down the road from where you work. steve holds your hand as you walk in, dragging you through the aisles until you get to the back as you laugh. 

the slurpee machine is thankfully working though you were sure if it wasn’t, you would’ve heard about it. it once went down during memorial day weekend and every customer that came into your work complained about it. it was brutal.

steve leaves you in the back, letting you know he’s going to grab some other snacks and will be back in a few moments.

you look towards the slurpee machine, head tilting slightly as you watch the drink rotate throughout the barrel.

a hand snaking around your waist snaps you out of your trance. 

“what flavor are you going to get, baby?” 

he’s pressed so close to you, whispering the question like it’s the most important secret in the world. you know if you call him out on his special awareness, he’ll claim that ‘this is the one time it’s cool enough in public for me to hold you.’ you don’t mind. steve’s your boy, the closeness is nice. 

“i dunno,” you mumble. small decisions like this stress you out.

his hand around you squeezes your hip. silent reassurance.

it takes a few moments for you to pick. both look good and you take your time clicking your tongue to imagine what flavor you taste.

“cherry,” you finally decide, pointing to the side with the red slush.

“good choice,” he compliments.

steve kisses your forehead before stepping forward. like the gentleman he is, he grabs two cups, larges, and fills them up; one cherry and one blue raspberry.

he pays too and you pout. “i wanted to treat you.”

“next time,” steve promises, pressing his lips quickly to yours.

you know he’s lying. 

you settle back into the passenger's seat of his car. steve’s slurpee sits firmly in the cupholder. his hand falls down to your leg and you squirm when his cold fingers touch your thigh. steve finds it hilarious.

it takes you a bit to get to your destination. once arriving, steve parks at the edge of the quarry.

it’s cooled down significantly, allowing steve to shut of the car’s ac and roll the windows down. it’s still sticky out but the cold slurpee in your hand helps that.

tears for fears plays softly out of the bmw’s sound system. you know it’s from the cassette you gifted him. perks of working at a record store.

you talk quietly back and forth about wherever comes to mind: your work schedule, the stars, plans for the weekend. but then you go quiet.

“hey stevie?” 

“yeah baby?”

when you don’t immediately respond, steve’s head lolls to meet your eyes. 

you’re curled up in the passenger's seat, legs tucked to your chest and head resting against the cool leather. you’re staring at him. he’s surprised he hasn’t felt your gaze until this point. but that’s how things typically are between the two of you; silence is never uncomfortable.

steve rests his hand on your naked knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. “everything okay?”

you nod, biting your lip to suppress a giggle.

“can we trade?” you smile and for a second steve thinks you don’t realize what you’re doing.

he sighs, though a smile tugs at the edges of his lips.

“of course, baby.”

you grin as he hands his blue raspberry slurpee and he takes your cherry one. success. 

“you know, if you weren’t so cute i wouldn’t have traded,” steve huffs. 

he’ll never admit it, or maybe not anytime in the future, but he makes it a point to order the opposite of what you get.

if you’re out to eat and decide on a salad, steve will get a burger with extra fries. you pick chocolate ice cream and steve is ordering vanilla (with sprinkles). whatever you decide, even if steve doesn’t want it, he gets the contrast. 

so, when you inevitably ask to switch, your other option is always your favorite. 

like now, when blue raspberry seems like the better flavor over cherry.

“come on stevie. you should know that my favorite color is purple,” you titter, poking your tongue out to show the result of mixing the two slurpees.

steve beams.

“i do baby, i do.”

[ilovecupcakesandtea]

Chapter two My master list

Title: Chapter one

Word Count: 1356

Archive Warnings: Smut in future chapters. Slight angst. Alcohol misuse.

Rating: E

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham

Character(s): Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Benny, Uncle Wayne & The Party

Tags: Smut. Angst. Steddie. Buckingham. Steve Harrington. Eddie Munson. Robin Buckley. Chrissy Cunningham. Band AU. TW Alcohol use.

Summary (optional): Two different styles of music, two boys that really don't like each other. What could possibly go wrong?

Beta Reader: Thank you so much to my beautiful beta readers @slippy-slip @ladydarklord & @dontwasteyourchances

Art link and credit: Art is by the wonderfully talented @pink-luna-moth (as is the banner)

Fic link and credit: Ao3 Link

AN: First off thank you to Alex for the art and being just amazing to work alongside. Thank you to Slip for dragging me back from the edge so many times over this. I really am so excited to have this out here!!

I wrote this for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang event and had a lot of fun doing so!!

Divider links: reblog and music notes

The scent of gardenia flooding her senses was the first indication that someone was sitting next to her. If she had been more awake she would have realised it was a scent familiar to her – not in a creepy way, as she has to point out to Steve on a regular basis. The smell of gardenia and other floral scents was something that Robin associated with one person, and one person only. Chrissy Cunningham. Robin's long-term crush, the first person she ever really noticed she had a crush on, Chrissy Cunningham, who was actually talking to Robin, who was probably just sitting staring at her.

“Hi, sorry, I didn’t catch anything you said” Robin apologised, holding up her headphones to show why.

“I just asked if I could sit here” Chrissy giggled, pointing at the seat next to Robin. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I mean I’m not saving it for anyone obviously, and I can’t stop you from sitting where you want, so yeah the seat’s yours if you want to sit there” Robin rambled, ending with an audible snap of her teeth as she stopped herself from rambling any further. 

“Thanks, I’m a good seat mate, I have snacks” Chrissy grinned, pulling some pretzels and some red vines out of her bag. 

“What are you listening to?” Chrissy asked, nodding towards Robin's headphones. 

“Oh errmm, it's The Clash” Robin smiled sheepishly. 

“I love them! Stumbled across them ages ago and really enjoyed them” Chrissy declared. 

“No way!” Robin exclaimed in reply.

This couldn't be happening. Robin didn't need any more reason to have a crush on this girl. Now she had good taste in music too! 

“Yeah! Not the normal kind of thing I listen to, but there's something about them” Chrissy giggled. 

“Want to listen with me?” Robin asked, offering an earbud towards the other girl. 

All kinds of things ran through her head. Was Chrissy this chatty with everyone? Was she staring at the cheerleader? Did everyone else think it was weird them being sat together? 

“So what else do you listen to?” Chrissy questioned, breaking Robin out of her spiralling thoughts. 

“Oh, I listen to a lot of Ramones, Misfits, The Damned, Black Flag, Dead Kennedys, Agnostic Front, The Vandals, Pennywise. Punk mostly, I mean you could probably tell that from the bands” she blushed. “What about you?” 

“A lot of Metallica, Judas Priest, Iron Maiden, some Ozzy, Children of Bodom, System of a Down, and Evanescence. Metal mostly, if you couldn't tell” Chrissy winked and then giggled. 

The rest of the journey to the game consisted of eating the pretzels and red vines, Chrissy insisting if Robin didn't eat them with her then she would be sick as she was cheering, and sharing music suggestions via 2 iPods and a shared set of headphones. 

The game was in full swing and Robin knew she should be paying a lot more attention than she was but she couldn't. She was certain Chrissy kept looking back at her, every time Robin caught her eye she got a shy smile back and then Chrissy would look away. 

On the way back home Chrissy sat next to Robin without asking and the girls fell back into their previous conversation regarding music and different genres and any overlaps they have in them. 

“I had fun, we should do it again sometime” Chrissy blushed as they both stepped off the bus back at Hawkins High. 

“Yeah, yeah, me too. Definitely, like I definitely had fun and we should definitely do it again” Robin rambled. 

“Maybe at the movies after school on Monday?” Chrissy asked, clearly nervous. 

“Yes. Absolutely” Robin squeaked. 

“Come along Buckley, I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be!” The sound of Steve Harrington, her best friend and ride home, came from across the parking lot. 

“I'd better go,” Robin laughed. “Bye,” she waved, walking backward before turning round and heading towards Steve, luckily without falling on her ass.

“We don't have to discuss it tonight but I 100% just saved you from a Robin ramble. Everything ok?” Steve asked as soon as Robin was in the car. 

“Yeah, it's ok, thanks for saving me,” Robin smiled.

The next morning, after a long night overthinking everything that Chrissy and Robin herself had said, Robin spoke up.

“So I sat next to Chrissy Cunningham on the way to the game yesterday and we talked about music all the way there. Then she actually chose to sit next to me on the way back and we talked all the way back as well. And then when we got off the bus she said we should do it again sometime. What does that even mean Steve?! Did she have a good time talking to me and so really wants to do it again or was it more of a being polite thing? Plus I think she kept looking at me during the game so yeah, what does it mean?! Oh yeah, and I may have agreed to go to the movies with her after school tomorrow” Robin rambled at a mile a minute to Steve who just stood there with his coffee to his lips waiting for her to finish. 

Taking a sip Steve contemplated his next words. He couldn't give Robin false hope but he had heard rumours about Chrissy and a couple of girls from the cheer squad so maybe Chrissy did want to take Robin on a date. 

“So, Chrissy Cunningham, who's a well-known metalhead, listened to your punk, asked you to the movies and you still don't know if she wants to take you on a date or not,” Steve asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Maybe she was just being nice!” Robin exclaimed, throwing her hands up. 

“I’ll talk to her at school tomorrow, ok?” Steve ushered Robin out of the kitchen and they both got ready for the day they had planned.

It wasn’t until between 3rd and 4th period the following day that Steve managed to speak to Chrissy. He caught her pretending to put things in her locker and trying to take sneaky glances at Robin.

“She’s really pretty isn't she?” Steve whispered, sliding up beside Chrissy and pretending to check his bag for something. 

“Yeah, she is” Chrissy replied softly before blushing and looking at Steve wide-eyed, “I didn't mean it like that, just that she’s objectively pretty, nothing else.”  

“Secrets safe with a fellow friend Cunningham” Steve chuckles “Have fun at the movies later,” he said before winking and walking away. 

“I’m telling you now, it's a date. She wants to date you. Sit in those back seats and ignore the movie” Steve laughed as he dodged a soggy chip thrown at him by Robin, as he told her about the interaction he’d had with Chrissy earlier in the day. 

“You know it’s not that simple Stevie, it’s not safe. As far as we know she’s straight and as far as she thinks I’m straight too. I can’t just tell her I'm not. What if it gets out? My parents don’t even know Steve.” Robin sighed. 

“Birdie she was literally looking at you and agreed when I said you’re pretty. I’ve heard the stories about her and the cheer squad as well. Either way, she’s a safe person to tell, I’m certain of it.” Steve reassured, squeezing her arm lovingly. 

“Maybe” Robin responded, smiling at him sadly. 

Steve knew it wasn't as easy as he made out to her. He was destined to explore his sexuality in dark corners and dingy bathrooms, maybe a cheap hotel if he was lucky. But the chances are he would settle down with a wife and a kid or two, maybe he'd tell his wife he too liked men or maybe he wouldn't. But he was certain he would do anything to help his soulmate find her girl. 

“Anyway, what's this about the cheer squad?” Robin asked suddenly, as though her brain had finally caught up to what he'd said. 

“Oh Robin, see if Chrissy will tell you” He smirked back at her before he continued to eat his salad.

[rinsoap]

˚ ༘ ♡⋆｡˚ ﾐ the big seijoh four's favourite artists!

✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : oikawa tooru, iwaizumi hajime, matsukawa issei + hanamaki takahiro

note : sorry ive been inactive as hell w actual hcs or like. real works LMAOO i have been #depressed and #unmotivated LoL! anyways pls tell me u can see suna's influence on iwaizumi i hc that they r friends <33

oikawa tooru :

!!? KALI UCHIS STAN NEVER SPEAK 2 ME AGAIN. he LOVESSS her he is completely convinced isolation was specifically made to cater to him and his exact music taste delusional king fr!! and he gatekeeps her SO HARD like babes as much as i would like to be her top listener too, the 21,158,866 monthly listeners seem like they might be hard to beat 🤔

his favourite songs by kali uchis are :

tyrant - ft. jorgia smith on the isolation album.

i wish you roses (single).

loner on the por vida album.

!!? this artist is not a guilty pleasure no matter how many times he says he's sooo embarrassed he likes carly rae jepson. "omg stop don't tell people i like her that's humiliating omg stop i don't want people to know!!!!!!" he is a LIAR. he will publicly scream every single lyric to every single song she makes, IN FACT he will shamefully make tiktoks on public buses and shit, lip syncing to her songs on full volume (or at least he would if literally all of seijoh didn't tell him to shut the fuck up LMAO)

his favourite songs by carly rae jepson are :

call me maybe on the kiss album.

boy problems on the E•MO•TION album.

felt this way on the dedicated side b album.

!!? —✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : good days by SZA. heart to heart by mac de marco. oh no! by marina and the diamonds. conceited by flo milli.

iwaizumi hajime :

!!? UGH ANOTHER AMAZING PERFECT TYLER THE CREATOR STAN. OOH I WANNA KISS ALL TYLER FANS ON THE HEAD I FREQUENTLY MAKE OUT W EVERY TYLER FAN EVER!! he's a very loyal listener, he knew him on vine bro like i said in pt 1, he introduced him to suna (while suna takes all the credit lol) he might even have a slight... fixation.. one might call it a.... crush.... but he will never admit it his ego is too big!!

his favourite songs by tyler the creator are :

A BOY IS A GUN on the IGOR album.

garden shed - ft. estelle on the flower boy album.

SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - ft. brent faiyaz and fana hues on the CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST album.

!!? is it controversial to say he fucks w ice spice.. almost a little too much... he knows all the lyrics to munch which is def something he has in common with oikawa's music taste!!! like at this point they're like pavlov's dog, they are absolutely salivating every single time they hear "stop playin with em riot!"

his favourite songs by ice spice are :

bikini bottom (single).

princess diana on the like..? EP.

in ha mood (single).

!!?—✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : she likes another boy by oscar lang. attention by new jeans. just a stranger by kali uchis and steve lacy. NASA by ariana grande.

matsukawa issei :

!!? unlike iwaizumi, he will admit his huge crush on brent faiyaz with his ENTIRE CHEST. brent faiyaz his love, his one and only (i am projecting!) <3 most of the content he consumes is brent faiyaz related tbh the algorithm knows him too well and before you ask the burning question on your mind, YES he did almost start a stan twitter in year one!!! makki will never let him live it down as if he didn't ACTUALLY start one for bruno mars..

his favourite songs by brent faiyaz are :

ADDICTIONS on the WASTELAND album.

what you heard (single) by sonder - technically still brent faiyaz.

talk 2 u on the sonder son album.

!!? he really should be ashamed he likes drake tbh. he physically could not compell himself to show anybody his spotify wrapped because almost all drake songs were in his top played. please never ever speak to him about the time he genuinely ugly cried to one dance. he will never elaborate and will probably go and sob to god's plan next.

his favourite songs by drake are :

way 2 sexy - ft. future and young thug on the certified lover boy album.

9 on the views album.

circo loco on the her loss album.

!!?—✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : love is only a feeling by joey bada$$. small worlds by mac miller. awkward by SZA. finesse (remix) by bruno mars and cardi b.

hanamaki takahiro :

!!? ACTIVELY PUSHING THE MAKKI BRUNO MARS AGENDA!! fuck an evening with silk sonic he wants an evening with bruno 😭 all he is doing every day all day is praying bruno gets his heart broken again so he can drop another DELECTIBLE album!!!!! also him and iwa like to say that since makki is puerto rican and iwa is filipino, together they make one bruno mars <333 (this is a hc dont take it too srsly lol)

his favourite songs by bruno mars are :

that's what i like on the 24k magic album.

treasure on the unorthodox jukebox album.

after last night (with thunder cats & bootsy collins) on the an evening with silk sonic album.

!!? he is a dork and i am a dork soooo i'm gonna have to say he is a the living tombstone stan.... oikawa will go on full rants about how cringey 2020 was and how weird that video game animatronic type music is and he'll look over at makki and see the single tear roll down his face as he says he has no idea the music genre he's talking about 😭

his favourite songs by the living tombstone are :

my ordinary life (single).

drunk on the zero_one album.

jump up, super star! (single).

!!?—✩⌗ HONORABLE SONG MENTIONS : new person, same old mistakes by tame impala. your teeth in my neck by kali uchis. join us for a bite by JT music. ORANGE SODA by baby keem.

[depravity-n-savagery]

Eddie Headcannon - Bringing Him To Meet Your Whacky (But Lovable) Metalhead Parents 🤘

Eddie Munson x (fem)Reader ✯

✯ - You're nothing like your parents, but they still support you in whatever you like or want to pursue. They'll buy you whatever colorful atrocities you want to wear, or cover your room with. Grin and bear the bubbly music you play whenever they drive you around. They're just happy to see you happy, and you love them for it.

✯ - Unfortunately that also means putting on their best behavior whenever you bring some new preppy or jock guy around to meet them. You never push them to appear 'normal' around your friends or dates. You only ask them not to 'test his worth' by seeing how easily they can weird him out or scare him away. "If he plans on committing to you, this is what he'll have to look forward to anyway. We're just seeing if he can handle it." They'll say. And you understood. So after they sent the last jock running out to his car like the hounds of hell were at his heels, you took a break from dating.

✯ - Then you met Eddie. Introduced to him by Steve - an attempt at an old flame that turned out to be better as friends. Immediately there was something about Eddie that drew you in. His shaggy long hair, the many rings on his fingers, his loud and expressive mannerisms that matched his loud and familiar taste in music. Yes... he felt familiar. He felt like home. So much that you found yourself in his company as often as possible.

✯ - Eddie is lovable, but dense when it comes to picking up on someone's possible affection or attraction towards him. People often run in the opposite direction. Hell, it was weird enough getting used to his new-ish group of friends. A group that you've become a solid part of now. It didn't raise any questions in his mind when you began finding opportunities to be alone with him. Asking him to drive you places? Well, Steve's car is usually full of his unofficially adopted children. So of course he was the second best option. Offering to smoke weed with him at his trailer sometimes? Well, you were shit at rolling your own joints. Having him tag along with you while you run errands or literally do anything? Well, you're... a pretty girl. A very...fucking gorgeous girl in his opinion. So maybe you want him around to keep creeps to coming up to you. Scary dog privileges and all that.

✯ - One day you take Eddie out for milkshakes and lunch, and some brave asshole comes up and decides to flirt with you. Completely ignoring that Eddie is sitting across from you. Having none of it, you quickly turn him down. "Uh... can't you see I'm on a date?" And Eddie almost shoots milkshake out of his nostrils. After the reject leaves your table, Eddie is stuttering. Eyes wide. "A date? With me?? Haha, yeah that definitely scared him off." You squint your eyes at him, grasping onto your straw. "What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie stirs his straw around, looking anywhere but at you. "I mean, obviously you wouldn't really be on a date with me." That only makes you facepalm, dragging your hand down your face with a deep groan. "Did you really not think this was a date, Eddie??"

"Wha- Since WHEN? How was I supposed to know?!"

"I dunno, maybe the romantic mixtape I gave you on the way here? The handholding? We're literally sharing a milkshake!!"

"I thought we were sharing because I'm poor, not because we're on a DATE!"

✯ - That's how your relationship starts. ♡ Once it finally got through his head, he was all in. Finally noticing all the little things he skimmed over in the beginning. Like the way you hummed along to some of the music he played during a drive, even though you never really played that type of music yourself. Or the way you'd input some ideas whenever he was planning for a D&D campaign, even though you said you've never played before.

✯ - Then comes the moment you've been anxiously waiting for. Bringing him over to have dinner with your parents. Eddie was a nervous wreck. Seeing your style, and with his own terrible experiences with Hawkins parents, he thought this was it. Your parents would take one look at him, turn up their noses, and forbid you from being anywhere near him. Regardless of the fact that you were both legal adults and could do as you please. He didn't understand why you were so calm about this. Completely unbothered. Actually, you were excited. Almost bouncing in the passenger's seat of his van. As he pulled up outside your house, you took his hand in yours and looked him in the eyes. "Eddie, honey, trust me. My parents are gonna take one look at you, and understand exactly what drew me to you." You place soft kisses on his rings and knuckles. "Then, they're gonna get to know you. And they're gonna love you. Just like I do." He had to fight back tears, hearing you say those words for the first time. Last thing he needed was to meet your parents with bloodshot eyes and have them think he showed up stoned. "I love you too."

✯ - Your dad is the first one to see Eddie, since he happened to be walking towards the kitchen when you both entered the house. Eddie was prepared to put on his 'good boy voice' and shake your dad's hand. Yeah, nope. Before Eddie could speak your dad turns tail and runs up the stairs yelling for your mom. "Honey!! HONEY!!! Holy fucking shit, you gotta come see this guy! NOW!!" You're caught somewhere between soft embarrassment, and stifling a chuckle once you see Eddie's dumbstruck expression. Was he seeing things... or was your dad wearing a Judas Priest shirt?? Sure enough, once both your parents were downstairs, the realization hit him. Your dad's shirt. Your mom's black painted nailed. The visible tattoos on both of them. His lips curled up into the biggest smile you've ever seen. Oh yeah. He's got this in the bag.

✯ - Obviously none of their usual attempts to scare your dates away would work on Eddie. They didn't even try. Instead, they pretty much stole him away. Asking questions about how you both met and how long you've been seeing each other. Comparing tattoos (the one's in innocent places at least) and music tastes. Deciding to really solidify their love for him, you mentioned something about his D&D campaigns. Your mom was floored, running to get her box full of dice and all her other D&D stuff. By the end of the night he was being invited over AGAIN by your parents, and pulled into two tight hugs.

✯ ‐ When you and Eddie get into your first big argument and go through a short break up, the whole house is in mourning. Your parent's priority is comforting you, always. But you knew they missed him too. Thankfully the issue is resolved and your relationship is stronger than ever. So much that Eddie starts spending the night at your place on weekends.

✯ ‐ One night, after Eddie plays some D&D with your parents (for once he doesn't have to be the DM), you all have dinner together. Nothing new until it's time for Eddie to leave and he gives you his keys. He says he has to pee real quick and asks you to warm up the van for him. You're skeptical about it, but you listen. Twenty minutes later, he comes out to the van. Giddy and walking with an extra pep in his step. "What took you so long?" You asked. He waves it off and makes an excuse, taking his place in the driver's seat.

✯ - A month later, your parents invite you along with them to see some band play at The Hideout. The didn't mention the band's name, but they said it was special performance. You agree, since they sat through that Tears For Fears concert with you. When you get there, you weren't expecting to get seats right in front of the 'stage'. The way your parents hyped it up, you thought the place would be packed. Instead it was a scattered crowd of....eerily familiar faces... wait- is that Steve? The more you looked around, the more you noticed your friends faces around the place. Steve, Robin, Nancy, Johnathan, even Argyle. What the hell is going on?

✯ - Just as you're about to question one of them, you hear footsteps climbing up to the stage. It's Eddie, with the members of Corroded Coffin. He plays a song, something original that he wrote just for the occasion. A romantic song that ends with him hopping off the and getting down on one knee right in front of you. "Will you marry me?" He asks, holding out a ring you've admired before. It was your mother's ring, before your dad bought her a new one for their anniversary. Your parents gave it to him when he asked for their blessing.

✯ - You say yes ♡ crying when he slides the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly. Just like Eddie fits into your family. You're soon-to-be husband. ♡

A/N: I wrote this in a hurry, so excuse whatever mistakes I missed lolz. This ended up being a lot longer than I expected 😅

Masterlist , Ao3 ☆

[cannibalizedyke]

I have a couple different ideas that you may be interested in but if your not that’s totally fine! They are all pretty different from each other and are just something I think would make great reads!!

1) flower child reader x Eddie Munson, maybe the reader is a really good friend of Mike and Dustin’s, maybe the boys need a ride home from DND one night and she’s there to pick them up in a baby blue Volkswagen playing hippie music and laying on the hood of her car with not a care in the world. Eddie is immediately drooling over her and is asking the boys as many questions as he can about her before they make it to her car. Maybe the flirt a little and he asks her out? She’s really shy about it at first but agrees and he takes her on the sweetest date, maybe a picnic by the lake where he brings some of her favorite foods and she brings some amazing desserts she thinks he’ll like. They lay on the blanket talking and getting to know each other and she puts flowers in his hair because who wouldn’t wanna braid flowers in Eddie Munson hair?

2) Steve Harrington X Fem Munson reader, reader can be either Eddie’s younger biological sister or Wayne’s kid and they just consider themselves as siblings. Anyways we’re going with Senior year Steve where he isn’t that big of an asshole but he’s still trying to find his way. Let’s say he’s talking with the reader at her locker, flirting with her and trying to impress her. Eddie being Eddie is getting into a yelling match with one of the boys on the basketball team and poor Stevie can’t help but make a rude comment about Eddie being a freak, trailer trash or something about a “no hood Munson”. Of course the reader is hurt by this and makes an excuse to leave, Steve is confused until he mentions it to Dustin and Dustin explains that the reader is Eddie’s sister. So Steve comes up with a plan to apologize to the reader and Eddie. (I know Steve isn’t in high school when the boys are freshman but let’s just pretend)

3) Robin Buckley x plus sized fem reader, this one would take place in season 3 before the mall incident. Robin of course still works at scoops and the reader works in a shop across from scoops, maybe a flower shop or a store like bath a body works. A lot of the time the reader comes over to scoops during her break to get ice cream or a milkshake, Robin being herself finds it so difficult to talk to her because of how pretty she is, the reader is kinda shy as well and always is a blushing mess when Robin takes her order. They both constantly stare at each other from their store windows and immediately look away when they catch the others eye. Steve decides to step in and play match maker between the two, he gives robin advice which she refuses to take thing the reader is not into girls, so he decides to talk to the reader. Of course when Steve asks if she has a boyfriend or anything she shyly mentions that she bats for the opposite team but there is someone she’s interested in. Steve then begs Robin to at least make a move and ask her on a date which she finally caves in asks if the reader would like to go to the burger place a couple spots down one day while on lunch, obviously the reader agrees and they have a great time. The reader decides to tell Robin that she really likes her and Robin ends up kissing her before asking her out! ❤️

I know this is a lot and they are all very different but I think variety is good and your taste might be a little different than mine. I hope you like at least 1 if not all of them, thank you for your time!!!❤️

ok i’m just gonna do the first one for the selfish reason of me not being a steve or a robin simp <33 i absolutely adore the eddie req tho omg tysm for sending it. i also think i’m gonna split it into two parts, so this will be their first meeting and then later i’ll write the picnic date. this is such a cute concept if anyone else has any ideas for eddie x flower child!reader pls send them in

word count: 464

warnings: language, fem!reader

taglist: @gg-is-a-loser @yesshewrites1 @urlocalhippie2029 @beautifulrunwaymodelsblog

Eddie could hear Sunny Goodge Street by Judy Collins blasting from where he was inside the school. “Holy shit, whoever that is could rival me with how loud they like their music,” he marveled.

“That’s (Y/N), I bet,” Dustin said.

“(Y/N)?”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Mike supplied. “She’s friends with Nancy. She’s kinda weird, but she’s nice enough, and she offered to drive us home, so…”

“Hm.” Eddie leaned over so he could see out the window and, sure enough, there you were, reclined over the top of a little blue Volkswagen in the Hawkins High parking lot. “Holy shit,” he breathed. He whipped his head toward the freshmen. “You didn’t tell me she was hot!”

Mike stammered. “We… didn’t think it was… necessary?”

Eddie clicked his tongue in irritation and turned back to the window. “What’s she like?”

“Um… she’s pretty cool,” said Lucas. “Still into all the hippie stuff from the seventies, though. Goes on and on about peace and love and change and all that stuff. Gets kind of annoying, but she’s nice and pretty fun.”

“She’s kinda ditzy, to be honest,” added Mike. “Can be kinda flakey and forgetful too.”

“But she’s super fun to be around,” Dustin amended quickly. “You’d love her, Eddie, honest.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed.

“Huh.” Eddie stared at you in awkward silence for a couple more seconds before abruptly leaping up and heading toward the door. “I’m gonna ask her out.”

“What?!” Mike made a face. “Why?!”

“Because she’s hot and she seems cool and I want to date someone,” Eddie fired back. Mike shut up.

Eddie walked down the hallway with a sense of purpose, hyper-focused on his end goal of getting a date with you. He exited the building and waltzed over to your bug, hopping on top to sit next to you.

You looked up, eyes wide with curious surprise, and reached into the car to turn the music down. “Can I help you?” you asked; your voice was a ditzy, musical lilt and Eddie adored it.

“Yes, actually.” Eddie held out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Eddie Munson, DM of the Hellfire Club and humble admirer of pretty girls like you.”

You giggled nervously and gently shook his ring-clad hand. “I’m (Y/N), unofficial chauffeur of Mike, Lucas, and Dustin and unashamed pretty girl who likes to be admired.”

Eddie grinned and let your hand go. “So, (Y/N), you wanna go out with me sometime? We can go on a picnic or something, I’ll make it all sweet and romantic just for you.”

You smiled giddily and nodded. “Yeah, sounds great.”

“Awesome.” He scribbled his number on a scrap of paper and pressed it into your palm. “Call me when you get home, pretty girl, okay?”

“Okay. See you later, Eddie.”

“Definitely, princess.”

[undreaming-fanfiction]

What I Wouldn't Do

This fanfiction is a Valentine's Day exchange gift for the lovely @henderdads. Cass, Eddie absolutely hates Valentine's Day, but for Steve? Well. He's willing to make an exception. Have an amazing Valentine's Day, you deserve it so much!!

Sometimes, it is difficult to reconcile several different truths in our lives. 

Eddie currently has this dilemma. 

Truth A: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson’s boyfriend, allegedly loves sappy romantic things, Valentine's Day included.

Truth B: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington's boyfriend, feels like if the world ever has to end, it should do so on February 14th, for this is the worst day of all days, the day of heart-shaped chocolate that tastes like crap, couples exchanging sweet words and bodily fluids, sometimes even semi-publicly, and don't even get him started about that horrible romantic music. 

After swearing on the Munson doctrine he won’t sell his soul to consumerism for anything and anyone but Steve, Eddie Munson decides to ignore Truth B. Steve Harrington deserves the best Valentine's day in the history of this idiotic holiday and Eddie has a hunch, a massive, Everest-sized hunch, that in all of his previous Valentine's days, Steve was always the one to do all the work. His beautiful and brave people-pleasing boyfriend. 

Then Eddie realizes another very uncomfortable truth. He has no idea how to celebrate Valentine’s Day. He spent the twenty one-ish years of his existence avoiding the holiday, so now he has to do some research. 

He starts small. When they walk together in the Hawkins center, careful not to touch or hold hands because Hawkins still remains a backward hellhole, he notes what Steve looks at. If his eyes linger on a certain flower for a few seconds, he makes a mental note. A mental note means in Eddie's case that he repeats the name of the flower ad nauseum, quickly excuses himself and scribbles it onto his forearm not to forget. He even buys a permanent marker for this. He can't forget anything, not when it's important for Steve.

When Steve asks about the scribbles, he claims it's for the next campaign. He even draws a sword and a shield next to the notes to avoid suspicion.

He asks many questions, most of them under the pretense of helping Gareth with his dates. "I swear, Steve, when he's lovestruck, he gets completely stupid. Not stupid stupid, Gareth's smart, but he can't hold rhythm and we need him to hold it, he's our drummer! So save this suffering aspiring rockstar and tell me, what do you think is the best type of chocolate? Milk chocolate? Okay, and is that like, universal? Did your previous dates like it? I see, a majority then! Sooo...are you a part of that majority?" 

Very smooth. 

See, Eddie doesn't give a flying demobat about chocolate types, he's more into hard candy. He doesn't like cut flowers, they die anyways because you cut them, how is that fair to that flower, huh? To die for being pretty? And of course, he hates the whole EXPECTATION of Valentine's Day. 

But the more he asks, the more he finds out, he doesn't see it as participating in the mindless machinery of lovestruck idiots. Instead, he sees the flush on Steve's cheeks when he talks about dark chocolate with dried raspberries and how his parents once brought it back from dad's trade conference, how it was love at first taste. He scratches out the idea for a bouquet of flowers when Steve mentions he’s always hated them because the flowers are so beautiful and vibrant, but they’re cut for an obligation in their prime. “It sounds stupid when I say it,” he chuckles, “but I want them to live until they’re ugly and withered, you know? They’re worth way more than their looks.”

Eddie could kiss him right there and then. And he does. 

He brings it all together, prepares all of Steve’s favorites with a silly twist because it’s Eddie, and Eddie lives for silly things. It really needs to be his favorites because Steve once admitted to him that most people with the exception of Robin and Dustin don’t really know what he likes, they just assume. And Steve is happy that people even thought about him, he thanks them and treasures those things that don’t mean anything to him. To Steve, being thought about is enough. 

Well, not to Eddie Munson. 

He asks Steve not to plan anything for their Valentine's Day. Or more precisely, he asks him to stay free and available and not worry his beautifully hairy head. He knows that if he didn't say this, Steve would have gone above and beyond for him, he would have likely taken Eddie to a concert with music so loud he’d get a migraine, but he’d suffer through it. So Eddie has to stop that from happening.

On the actual day, Eddie prepares everything. He sends Gareth ("You owe me so much for this. SO MUCH, MUNSON. I actually wanted to watch this tonight!") to rent Steve's favorite movie and goes himself to get access to the Hawkins High with…almost completely legal means, just a little bit of bribing here, some promises for a lengthy D&D campaign there, and of course lots and lots of nougat. 

He gathers everything in his van, waits for the kids and the janitor to get out and then starts setting the scene. 

There are two more incompatible truths that Eddie Munson grapples with: 

Truth A: Eddie Munson fucking HATES the Hawkins High. He wants it to burn down in flames, with only the theater room staying intact. 

Truth B: Steve Harrington sometimes wistfully mentions how he wishes he could have dated Eddie Munson in high school. How they’d share lunches, trade secret kisses in the hallways. He wishes himself and the world had been different. 

And so Eddie Munson grits his teeth, walks those cursed hallways he only managed to escape a few months back and counts on Robin Buckley to deliver his invitation with flair. “Extra points if you get him a trumpet solo, Buckley!” 

Robin apparently delivers because only half an hour after the expected invite, as he is smoking his fifth cigarette - don’t blame the guy, he’s nervous! He’s got a big date! - Steve arrives with a smile that’s equally excited and nervous. He keeps running his fingers through his hair and overall looks just biteable. 

Steve walks up to him and brushes his fingers against Eddie’s wrist, discreetly as they have established. It’s their own version of a kiss. “I thought you hated Valentine’s Day?” he asks and he looks so apologetic that Eddie promises to base all villains in his new campaign on all the people who ever made Steve feel he wanted too much. 

Eddie glances around, deems it safe and pulls Steve into an actual kiss. "It might be Valentine's day for you, Steve. For me, it's the "Steve Harrington Appreciation Day." He winks at Steve and relishes in the slight blush that has crept into his cheeks. “The name is already registered and all. No changes possible or accepted. Follow me, big boy.” 

Steve laughs when he sees a set cafeteria table with something that brings back so many memories. How did Eddie get two portions of school lunch?! The man has to be magical, he decides. They eat together, chat about their day, and then Eddie decides feeding each other is off the table because they’re giggling so much he almost stabbed Steve with the fork. 

They walk the hallways together, hand in hand, and Eddie sometimes turns around, sticks his tongue out at an imaginary girl and sneers “back off! He’s mine!”. 

Steve turns after Eddie and nods. “What he said,” he whispers and squeezes Eddie’s waist. 

Eddie then hands Steve a sports bag he stashed in the changing rooms and winks at him. “What are you waiting for, Harrington? We have some balls to toss! Baskets to score. That.” And before Steve has a chance to protest, he gets his own bag and starts changing into those awfully familiar PE shorts in all their green and white glory. 

Steve just watches him, mouth hanging open. “Now I get why I never saw you in these,” he mumbles as he also starts changing. “I would have realized I’m bi like, at that moment.” 

But Eddie just laughs and pulls his hair into a loose bun. “Oh, Steve. You have no idea what those shorts on you did to the little closeted me. The thoughts they gave me.”

“Lucky for you, baby,” says Steve and pulls Eddie to his feet, “this time you’re allowed - and strongly encouraged - to both watch AND touch.” Then he cocks his head to the side and adds: “Well. If you score at least one point.” 

Eddie tries. Fails. Tries again, even with Steve helping him. Eventually, they settle for a quick game of tic-tac-toe which Eddie wins and happily squeezes Steve’s butt. 

Their final destination is the only class they ever shared, history. All desks are empty, except for one - the middle one in the second row, where Steve used to sit. There’s dark chocolate with dried raspberries, Steve’s favorite, and a pot of flowers. Yellow, another favorite. 

“The lady in the flower shop said they should live, like, really long,” shrugs Eddie and moves the chair for Steve so he can sit down. “I forgot their name the second I got them, but Buckley knows and she was asked to deliver a booklet with how to care for them.” 

Steve drags him down to his level and kisses Eddie, deep and long. He’s either crying or laughing into the kiss, maybe both. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into Eddie’s cheek. “All of this…is right. It’s me. You remembered.” 

“Eh…kinda. Tried to.” Eddie gives up and lets himself be seated on Steve’s lap. “Actually, I had a small…cheat sheet. Let me show you.”

Steve watches as Eddie takes off his bracelet and watch and sets both on the desk. He gasps as he sees a coiling pattern around Eddie’s wrist, something that looks like a dotted or scratched tattoo all around, but that’s not it. Because then Eddie moves his wrist closer and he can read all the words on Eddie’s skin. 

DARK CHOCOLATE WITH RASPBERRIES

NO CUT FLOWERS! YELLOW IS GOOD

COFFEE WITH ONE DROP OF MILK

NO ICE IN DRINKS - TRIGGERS MIGRAINES

BELTS AND SHOELACES - GOOD GIFTS TO WEAR

FREDDIE MERCURY

GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY

NO KETCHUP! 

STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM

These and so much more. All of Steve’s favorites, all what made him feel like himself, forever preserved in Eddie’s skin. 

He buries his head in Eddie’s shoulder and holds him so tight Eddie has trouble breathing, but then he decides that oxygen is overrated. “You’re so crazy,” sobs Steve into his shoulder. 

Eddie laughs again into the quiet of their former school. “I know.”

“And I love you so much.” 

He kisses Steve’s forehead. “I know. And I love you too. That’s why I had to do this, you know. Because even when I’m old and ugly, just like these flowers will be one day, when I’m senile and can hardly remember my own name, I will look at my hand and I’ll know all that is important.” 

Steve holds him even tighter if that’s possible, but maybe oxygen is needed just a little. Eddie gently kisses Steve’s head again and whispers: “We’re not done yet, love. Can you let me go so I can play us a movie? Something nice.” 

The arms crushing him loosen their hold and Steve briefly turns away to wipe at his eyes. “Sure. Sorry, I just…this is new for me. But good. So good.” 

“You deserve the good. All of it.” Eddie means it. And if seeing Steve appreciated as he should have been all of his life is redeemed by something as mundane as ignoring some truths about himself? Eddie is ready and willing. 

As he puts Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom into the VHS player, he realizes something terrifying - he’s actually LOOKING FORWARD TO THE NEXT VALENTINE’S DAY. 

Oh well. Time to adjust the Munson doctrine. After all, it might become a Munson-Harrington doctrine one day, so it deserves some revision.

[plainemmanem]

hello it is me modern!steve anon. my hc's r as such:

- steve is the hawkins middle assistant baseball coach . the boys are all obsessed with him bc they want to be just like him (also how did he pull such a baddie?)

- he dresses mostly like how joe dresses but sometimes a little more on the athletic side ? def owns lulu 5 in inseam shorts that he wears with big vintage shirts and nike blazers

- WORSHIPS the strokes and tame impala . julian casablancas is his idol

- unabashedly loves harry styles . would buy tickets "for his gf" but definitely wanted to go . he would coordinate outfits and wear a boa . harry's house is his fav album

- would play mlb the show like. religiously

- is either a cubs or cardinals fan but would make fun of anyone who would willingly admit to being a reds fan

- would still drive a bmw but it's like a 2009 that he bought himself when he turned 17

- def wears his glasses all the time

- gets mad about the colts record even thought he doesn't understand football at all

- is a feminist but when u start dating he becomes like . radical . before he was just like "yeah pro life pay women yadda yadda" but i think he would go to the indianapolis womens march with u and robin no questions asked

- helps robin set up her tinder profile . i'm talking like photoshoot

- literally always taking candids . whether it's u or robin or the kids he's always taking photos and he def has different albums in his phone so he remembers different events

- his lockscreen is his favorite photo of u which is definitely from a late night diner trip where u think u look gross and exhausted but he thinks ur the prettiest thing to ever exist

- he's teaching himself how to play guitar and it's very hard but he's trying okay

- tries to like modern rap but it just doesn't click with him . i think he would like older, softer stuff like a tribe called quest and maybe like wutang . definitely into vibey music

okay i think that's it but if i think of more ill let u know . if u can't tell i'm a big baseball fan therefore am projecting but i'm p sure that it's canon that steve plays baseball anyways?????

ok. Ok . OK. OK! OK!

so many more thoughts under the cut

i also see him being really into basketball, has a little group of guys he plays with and everything. they have a scrimmage every week and he’ll wear an old grey shirt that you cut the sleeves off of and really old, baggy basketball shorts that you can most definitely see his bulge through and he comes back all gross and sweaty and he’s so excited to tell you how he played bc he has that rush of endorphins after:)

loves baseball, takes you to all the games and wears a baseball cap and everything. makes you split nachos with him and he will literally yell at the players as if they can hear him. when things get real intense, he’ll stand up with his arms crossed or his hands on his hips, so into it. and every time there’s a bad play, he throws his hands up all annoyed like “cmon now, what are we paying you for???” and he cups his hands around his mouth and yells it. he’s so obnoxious i love him.

i can also really see him joining a band. he definitely teaches himself how to play bass and it’s quite honestly the hottest thing imaginable. i feel he also dapples in the drums, he loves the theatrics of it lmfao.

i can also see him being kind of.. basic when you first meet him BAHHAH like stereotypical “guy” — dresses in like plain shirts and jeans and his music taste is wack and a little basic and he’s kind of just normal. but then once he starts hanging out with robin and dating you, he changes a lot. i can kind of see him embracing more of his “non-masculine” interests and traits that he never knew he had bc that stuff really wasn’t accepted by his parents. he wears a gold necklace you got him (it’s a little dainty and a bit feminine and it looks so crazy hot on him) and he wears true outfits rather than whatever he has lying around in his room — he wears converse and nicer slacks and t shirts that are a little baggy and he has a nice watch with a brown leather band and he wears the ring you got him for christmas on his ring finger and another gold band on his thumb. he’s not really too much of a hat guy, but if he doesn’t really feel like styling his hair, he wears a cap, maybe a beanie if it’s cold. in the winter he’ll wear a white undershirt under a sweater and white wash jeans:)

he has “old man” glasses, as you like to call them. he’s tried contacts, but you told him a while ago before you started dating how handsome you thought he looks in his glasses, and you haven’t really seen him wear contacts since.

takes pics of EVERYTHING — even if it’s just a dog he saw on the street on his way to work or the funny way they spelled his name on his starbucks in the morning or a cloud that looks like a dick — he sends you them CONSTANTLY throughout the day. loves taking pics when you all hang out and he loves to do a photo dump at the end of the month (it’s mostly just you or funny pictures of robin. he’s also a sucker for a good sunset photo, he can’t help it)

i feel like he also gets more into more “feminine” hobbies or just things he wasn’t really allowed to do when he was younger. he likes to take care of plants and write little song lyrics throughout the day when they come to him and i feel he tries origami and he’s slowly teaching himself guitar and maybe tries drawing a bit — just things his parents never really approved of or saw any value in.

i also feel modern!steve is really into cars. like has a dream car all picked out for when he hits the lottery and every time you’re out, at least once, he sees a nice car on the street and does a little wold whistle like “damn. a 2016 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray.” and you’re like “what? is that a good one?” and he’s like “…. yeah, y/n, that’s a 55 thousand dollar car.” he will point them out to you ALWAYS, without fail. sometimes you’ll see a car you like when you’re out and you’re like “ooo wait steve what’s that one called?” and he looks up for a split second, squinting a little to get a better look at it and then he’s like “oh, yeah, a Lexus LC, you like that one?”

he also really loves making little spotify playlists for every occasion and he loves playing them for you and seeing if you think they’re any good (he thinks your music taste is so cool). he always loves when you aux in the car bc he loves listening to your music and finding new stuff and adding it to a little playlist of songs he gets from you/reminds him of you:) but then there’s also times he really loves to aux and he really does love his guilty pleasure music, he sings along to barry manilow without shame he’s just like me fr he is my new obsession

[eliounora]

in light of your latest rb, what is your preferred production of jesus christ superstar?? i've yet to see any but want to have fun with everyone & trust your taste on this :) ty in advance and also! i really love your art ^__^

you have come to the right neighbourhood... *puts on my pharisees hat* I am so happy to answer this question

I recommend you start with the 1996 west end revival (spotify, youtube). the insrumentation is great, the quality of the recording is crisp, and the performers are top-notch. steve balsamo as jesus is definitely the star of this one, his voice is very light and pure but he also portrays the character's inner conflict magnificently.

for comparison, there is also the original 1971 broadway cast recording (spotify, youtube). this is one of my favourite versions!

here is also the original 1972 west end production (youtube). also excellent!!!

if you actually want something to watch, there is the 1973 film (spotify, youtube, I think the film can be rented on YT as well, I borrowed the DVD from my local library haha). the film also has a magnificent cast, many people consider ted neeley the best jesus ever and he has an unique take on the role and a gorgeous voice. carl anderson as judas is also just superb. I think the best word to decribe this version is "raw", it's really haunting.

the original 1970 concept album (spotify, youtube) with ian gillan of deep purple as jesus and murray head as judas is also a must-listen! both singers are just divine, both their performances easily hold up against newer productions with ease, they're just divine.

there is also the 2000 film, watchable on youtube (the album on spotify). jerome pradon plays judas and he is absolutely glorious at it. dude is going absolutely off the rails and his voice is so whiny and he's so deliciously vindicative in the end. I've gotten the impression his performance can be sort of hit-or-miss, but I really like it!

for something more recent, there's also the 2012 arena tour (youtube) with ben forster as jesus and the legendary tim minchin as judas. a lot of people like this one, and while I personally don't like it much, maybe you will! there is also the 2018 live in concert (spotify, youtube). a solid, good production I think.

now I think every song in JCS is a solid banger, but good songs to look out for when listening is

heaven on their minds, sung by judas

everything's alright, sung primarily by mary (in many of the early productions, like the original concept album and the film, mary is played by yvonne elliman) while judas and jesus argue

this jesus must die, includes caiaphas, who has a bass voice, and annas

pilate's dream

I don't know how to love him, mary's ballad

gethsemane (I only wanted to say), jesus's power ballad. look out for his high note at "why should I die" (awesome compilation here)

king herod's song

superstar, judas questioning jesus from beyond the grave

good luck to you superstaring!!! I'm very normal about this musical

[deathbecomesthem]

I would love the Getting to Know Eddie prompt for EIG Eddie. Which I know you haven’t ported over yet but I’m a sucker.

Oh, dear Jo, I will happily talk about Exile in Guyville Eddie - He'll be coming to this blog eventually with updates.

Jo's Eddie Ask Game

What story is he from? What kind of story is it (Fix-it fic, Older!Eddie, Rockstar!Eddie etc)?

Exile in Guyville is a story that takes place in the canon timeline, except that Eddie (eventually) recovers from his injuries. He's older, but not old. It's 1995, so Eddie is 29, and our reader is ~20.

What inspired you to write this Eddie?

I knew Eddie would be special when I watched the show as it aired. He spoke to me. I wanted to be him. There was a lot of gender envy happening. It was also a very traumatic summer for me for a few reasons, so he imprinted on my psyche.

Also, it is very, very important to me that Eddie Munson is based on Damien Echols. Exile in Guyville Eddie is absolutely written with the real man in mind.

What are your favorite headcanons about him/share something you never shared in your story?

I think Eddie is a very musically talented person. I headcannon him being able to play the piano, which is something I share with @br0ck-eddie. I also think that a family member, maybe a grandmother (?) taught him to love the guitar. ALSO, along the same vein, I think the Munson family are Indiana transplants, and there are a lot more in West Virginia/Kentucky/Pennsylvania. We're talking real hillfolk.

What does he wear on a casual day? On a dressier day? What does he wear to bed?

On a casual day? Jeans and a t-shirt with boots. On a dressier day? Nice jeans, a black button up, and boots - with black eyeliner. To bed? Boxers or nothing.

Favorite foods?

A really good sandwich with Lay's potato chips crushed between the mayo and cheese and Duke's mayonnaise. We're talking lettuce, tomato, freshly sliced chicken breast/turkey breast/roast beef, with sharp cheddar/muenster/swiss cheese, pickles. The whole nine yards.

Also, chicken and dumplings.

Tell Us About His Family/Friends

EIG Eddie makes friends easily, but he doesn't actually have many people he considers friends. He maintains those old relationships and holds them closely. Robin, Nancy, Steve, and all the kids. They're family in the way that he didn't really have when he was younger. The years he spent making music professionally, he made 2 lasting relationships.

He stays close to Wayne up until the day he leaves the world.

Yeah Yeah, he's a Metalhead. Tell Us MORE About His Taste in Music in your story

EIG Eddie knows a whole lot about music, because he made it his business to know. He enjoys listening to music that tells the truth, and makes his butt clench. Genre is irrelevant.

This is NOT true of canon Eddie, I'm only talking about EIG Eddie who has spent a lot of time growing and learning. He's leant his talent to all different kinds of musicians.

What are his views on romance? On sex?

EIG Eddie has had many relationships over the years. He loves hard, and he doesn't hold back. He understands that things end, but he also knows the value of a good thing. It's ok if it ends, as long as he doesn't miss out on the thing.

On sex? He likes it. He likes it a lot. It's not the most important thing, but it is a real joy in his life.

Is he optimistic or pessimistic?

Neither. He's a realist.

Where or with whom is he most comfortable?

Robin and Nancy. He's very close to them in that story.

What are his views of his future? What are his hopes/dreams?

Eddie hopes to be able to continue to live his life in his own way. He dreams of spending his days with the records and his nights listening to good live music.

What do you imagine his future looks like? (If your story is incomplete or if this would be a spoiler you're not willing to share, you can skip this question.)

Full of joy and pain, but ultimately happy.

Anything else you'd like us to know about your Eddie/your story?

Eddie is smart as hell. I think canon Eddie could eventually get his GED, go to community college, and then get a 4 year degree. I don't necessarily think that's something he would choose to do, but I see him being capable of that - given the right motivation.

There's a lot more I could say about this Eddie, or any other Eddie. Ask me anything, and I'll give you an answer.

Optional Vulnerable Question: Why do you write fics for Eddie Munson?

Because he deserves to live on in a million different stories. I love him very much.

Tagging: @dr-aculaaa @hellfirenacht @powderblueblood @raccoonboywrites

But really, anyone can play.

[lovecoree]

𝐁𝐎𝐎! — 𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑽𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑻𝑶𝑵

𝐬𝐮𝗺𝗺𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝗼 𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝗺𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝗼𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝗼𝐧 𝐲𝗼𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝗼𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐧, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝗼𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝗼𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐧𝗼𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟?, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝗼𝐡𝗼𝐥 !

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝗼𝐧 𝐱 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐞𝗺!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝗼𝗼𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐡𝗼𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭!

"𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑵 𝑰𝑻'𝑳𝑳 𝑩𝑬 𝑭𝑼𝑵!" your closest friend shouted over the loud music, dragging you along the bodies of many people who danced to the loud music. Being at a Halloween party wasn’t your idea of fun, you just wanted to go to a drive through movie or just stay home snuggled up in a blanket watching all the scary movies you can find, but your best friend had other plans for the both of you. “I feel like my whole ass is out.” You whispered close to your best friend’s ear as she dragged you into the kitchen that was filled with even more people.

“Either way, you still look good.” When it comes to costumes you really don’t put much effort into them, causing people to guess wrong on your character. Your best friend decided to give you a black pair of devil horns and a black tight fit dress. “You’re just finding an excuse for me to wear a dress.” Your best friend sheepishly smiled. “You know me so well.” Patting you on the shoulder she came closer to your ear. “I’m going to go find my boyfriend, I’ll be back.” Before giving you a chance to speak, she left you by the island counter filled with red cups on top and one huge punch bowl.

Grabbing a clean cup on the side, you grabbed the spoon scooping a good amount of the red liquid and poured it in your cup. “BOO!” The husky voice shouted close enough to your ear causing you to stop midway on drinking the fruit punch. Turning your head to give a death glare and cuss the person out, you were met with a handsome face. “I wouldn’t drink that if I were you, has a shit ton of alcohol added to it.” His voice matching perfectly with his face. “Well you’re not me, I’ll be fine.” Taking a huge swing at the drink, tasting the bittersweet alcohol added to it. He smiled seeing the way your face twisted from the strong taste. “I tried to tell you.” He smiled causing you to playfully role your eyes.

“What’s your name?” The boy was practically shocked at the question causing you to tilt your head. “What? You expect me to know who you are?” “No no it’s just that I know who you are, we have like two classes together.” He couldn’t blame you for not knowing him, he hasn’t even really interacted with you that often maybe for just a pencil or something, but that’s really it. “Steve. Steve Harrington.” Also grabbing a cup from the side he poured a good amount of the fruit punch, practically filling it to the brim. “And you talked about me.” You shook your head laughing.

“Hey, you want to go out back..it’s more quiet, only if you want to.” “Sure, I rather be somewhere quiet anyway.” Grabbing your hand he dragged you to the back of the house, where the only sounds of crickets and the soft tempo of the music could be heard. “What are you suppose to be anyway like a secret spy agent.” You asked taking in his costume. “What— a spy! No I’m Joel Goodson from Risky Business.” He grabbed his glasses out of his pocket before putting them on, looking at you with a wide grin. “Sorry, never watched the movie.” Steve held his chest like he was just shot. “Oh you got to watch it, it’s a classic.” “Noted.” You smiled taking another sip of your drink already feeling the burning alcohol getting to you.

“You know, you’re making my night a lot better.” Steve smiled taking another sip from his cup, somehow already finished with it. “I’m glad I can help, you don’t really seem like the party type.” You shook your head agreeing, feeling your eyes take in his facial features more as you scooted closer. “Yea I like to stay home most of the time, y’know..in my own world doing whatever I want.” Your voice was in a tiny whisper, but Steve heard every word. He could tell the alcohol was getting to not only you, but him as well.

Gulping nervously as he stared at your lips. “Yea I know, kinda like the feeling of doing whatever I want.” His eyes soon met yours, your brown eyes that got him weak in a second. He found himself leaning into your gaze, inches away from your lips.

“Then kiss me.” Your words brung him to a complete stop, but not fully rejecting the invitation as the alcohol got the best of him. His soft lips met yours immediately causing you to comb your fingers in his hair, feeling needy as he kissed you faster. Steve fucking Harrington was making out with the one girl he had a crush on for a while. As the kiss grew stronger you found yourself on top of Steve, straddling his waist as he held you close against him as possible.

It was a good hot minute before Steve broke the kiss, panting as he looked at you, seeing your lipstick smudge and devil horns practically falling off your head. You could say the same for Steve, seeing his lips stained red and hair disheveled, but he manages to still look good.

“How about we go to the drive through movie down the street from here.” He suggested, already knowing you want to be anywhere else, he still wanted to make sure just in case.

“Sure. Beats being here.”