#all versions of Eddie are good

[artieseni]

treyarch!!! make eddie a pathetic little meow meow like primis ricky and my life! is yours!! also give us the homoerotic subtext

reference! dempsey finally snaps and beats up richtofen but then ricky pulls out his goofy smile and dempsey's annoyed he can't control his fluttering heart ok ty bye

[demadogs]

no offense but i cannot believe some people only watch this show for byler and dont care about the upside down and everything else oh my god thats so insane to me

[hexiewrites]

It’s not the first time Steve has to call an ambulance that does it. 

The first time he’s fucking terrified, coming home from a long shift at the new Blockbuster down the street and dinner after with a coworker only to find his boyfriend, passed out on the floor of their shared apartment. He panics, at first, because what the fuck is he supposed to do, and then he gets it together and calls 911. The paramedics won’t let him in the ambulance so he follows behind in the beamer, white knuckles the steering wheel, all the way to the hospital. They won’t let him go all the way in and he paces for hours in the waiting room, drinking shitty hospital cafeteria coffee, before the nurse finally tells him where to go.

And the thing is. The thing is it makes sense. Eddie’s been struggling since the Upside Down. So has Steve, to be honest. They’ve both been crashing, different vices, different issues. So the first time he has to call the ambulance, he gets it. It makes sense, even though it hurts. Sometimes things happen, and Steve can’t fault Eddie for one night of too many goddamn whiskeys. Hell, he’s come pretty close to that point himself, more times than he can count lately. He makes a promise to himself to be better, to be there when Eddie needs him.

To be enough.

It’s not the second time he calls the ambulance that does it either, because as much as that one hurts, it still makes sense. Eddie on the ground gives his brain Eddie in the Upside Down, broken and bleeding and almost fucking dead and Steve calls the ambulance but he chugs a beer back before he follows in the beamer. And fuck, they’ve been through it, haven’t they? Eddie’s been trying but of course it’s going to be hard. People make mistakes and god knows Steve’s made his own, so who is he to do anything but try. Try harder to make Eddie see he doesn’t need this shit. To make him see that Steve loves him so much, loves him enough for both of them, loves him enough to get them through it. So that’s what he does. 

He tries, even though he’s failing too. There’s beer in the house and he gets it, now. How much it helps to keep the noise down.

They’ve been fighting about it, even though they don’t have much else they fight about.

So of course he gets it.

The third time he has to call hurts even more. Of course it does, it screams Eddie’s failing and you’re failing and why can’t you be good enough, why can’t you love him enough to fix it. But the hurt is washed over by anger because how can he keep doing this after everything they’ve been through? Hours of meetings together. Weeks of Eddie off in rehab. Whispered promises that it’s done, it’s over. You can’t beat addiction but you can control it. They can focus on them. Maybe start that family they keep talking about. It’s behind them now. It was supposed to be behind them. 

But it’s not even the third time, because the third time when Eddie wakes up he looks devastated but he still manages a smile. Still manages to say, voice rough because of the intubation, third time’s the charm, right baby? And- the average addict relapses four times, but I’ve always been below average, huh? I can feel it. This is gonna be my year.

And Steve’s not perfect either. He’s doing better, yeah, he’s putting in the work, but he’s not perfect. He’s better though. He’s been better because he’s been trying. He’s still trying because he keeps picturing Eddie, baby on his hip, cooing and giggling. Picturing them curled up at forty, at fifty, at eighty. Looking back and saying wow, we were fucked up then but we had each other. We got through it together like we always did. So the third time hurts. It pisses him off. But he’s still holding that picture in his mind, despite it fraying at the edges just a bit. 

But the fourth time, when it should all be behind them because it had been better, they’d been better, when he comes home and finds Eddie on the floor, broken bottle next to him, needle still in his arm… 

Well. Fourth time’s the fucking charm for him.

He calls the ambulance, watches Eddie get loaded in, feels the tears drying onto his cheeks. One of the paramedics knows him from the last time and gives him this sad smile. Says “we got him soon enough, think he’s gonna be okay. He’s lucky, your boy, but even cats only get nine lives.” Steve shuts the ambulance door and doesn’t get in his car to follow. He heads back up the stairs, cleans up the vomit, and starts to pack.

He puts his most important things in the beamer, leaves the rest. Doesn’t leave a note because he doesn’t know what to say. Calls the hospital before he goes because he has to know—Eddie’s awake and asking for him.

He drives to a liquor store instead. Drives until he can’t anymore and checks into a motel halfway between Chicago and Hawkins. 

Thinks about his blue two year chip (sitting on his nightstand in the apartment, one of the things not precious enough to bring) as he twists open the bottle, and finally finally finally lets the sweet relief of whiskey burn through his throat. 

He’ll regret it tomorrow, but tonight? It’s the only thing he has left. 

Steve doesn’t go back to Chicago for nearly four years. He thought about it. Thinks about it. Constantly. He knows that Eddie’s alive because Dustin kept in touch, will give him a little knowing nod every time they see each other (rare, these days, as Steve barrels towards thirty and the kids finish university, get jobs across the country, try to make it home for Christmas and don’t always succeed). He never asks for more because it’s too hard to hear. Dustin tells him, one day, that Eddie’s doing really well now. Steve doesn’t know if he can believe it. He doesn’t want to believe it, because if Eddie’s doing well now without him it means he’s the problem he’s the reason he—he calls his therapist and puts in the fucking work.

He stays in Hawkins. Faces his demons, mostly metaphorical now. Spends a lot of time with Hopper, who gets it more than almost anyone but still wants better for him. Spends hours on the phone with Robin, who begs him to go back into the real world but he can’t, because it hurts too much. Takes enough correspondence classes to get an associate’s degree. Starts driving to the community college a few towns over for classes and upgrades to a Bachelors of Psychology, and starts to understand himself and Eddie and trauma, and things start to hurt a little less. He doesn't drink anymore, goes to meetings with as much regularity as he can, and when he’s finally got a new two year chip in his hands he thinks he might be ready. It hurts like an old wound, twinging in the rain but mostly fine, and he thinks he could maybe handle Chicago again.

He still doesn’t go. 

At the end of the day, it’s the acceptance letter into the Masters of Educational Counselling program at the University of Illinois that does it. He honestly hadn’t been expecting to get in, it’s a competitive program and Steve Harrington who barely graduated high school doesn’t exactly scream school counsellor material. But his essay was good, he knows it was. And he knows he’s going to be good at this. 

So he packs up the beamer, again. Pulls over to sleep in a tent on the side of the road and calls Hopper from a payphone, sobbing because he can’t do it. 

He does it anyway.

He gets to Chicago and his apartment’s on the opposite side of town now but the first time he drives past the hospital again he has a breakdown so bad he almost goes home. But he’s been putting in the work, and he’s doing more than trying now. He’s solid, he’s stable, and he pulls himself together. He calls Hopper and Robin, he goes to meetings, he’s doing well.

He’s studying in a coffee shop, down the street from his apartment, when the open mic starts. 

“Hi everyone,” says a voice that Steve would recognize from a hundred miles away. He forces himself to look and Eddie’s on the little stage, an acoustic guitar in hand. "Thanks for being here with me today. I've got some new stuff for y'all that I think you're going to like."

And then he plays. Steve gives up on his work, leans back in the chair, and watches. Eddie looks... he looks good. Better than he had when Steve was around. His hair's still long but it's curly and bouncy, and his skin is bright and alive in the way an addict's never is. His fingers skip, sure and strong, over the frets and his voice is that same melody Steve has never let himself forget, with this almost bluegrass twang that makes Steve's heart ache. He’s playing different music, and he’s shining like he’s made of gold in the late afternoon sun.

There's something about it, about watching Eddie, that feels a bit like healing. Eddie had always loved to play, but the music scene he was in had broken him before, not fixed him. He'd always wanted to make more of his own music, and here it is and it's good. The songs are catchy, straddling his blues/folk upbringing and his rock/metal lifestyle.

And then Eddie finishes a song, maybe his sixth, and his eyes scan the crowd and Steve feels when they land on him. He feels the way the whole room runs out of air, all at once, and Eddie is totally frozen for a full minute. Steve's heart is beating a million miles an hour-he wants to get up, he wants to run, but he's frozen to the seat. Pinned by Eddie's gaze.

And he knows he's been doing better, he has, but nothing was ever as good as it could have been because this is what he was missing.

"I've got," Eddie finally says, and has to stop and clear his throat. "I've got one more song for you." He's talking to the audience, but he never looks away from Steve, and the room has narrowed so much it might as well only be only the two of them there. "This one's about the one I chased away."

Steve pays attention to the lyrics and his heart breaks half a dozen times. Eddie sings about hating himself, about Steve hating him, about how the thing that tore them apart is the thing Eddie will never touch again, how the hatred is what drove him to be better. He sings about forgiveness and healing and when he finishes the coffee shop claps, Eddie waves, and the spotlight cuts.

It isn't even a conscious decision, but Steve finds himself walking up to the stage. Eddie turns away from where he's put the guitar away, their eyes meet again and it feels like coming home.

"I don't hate you," Steve whispers, because he's forgotten how to speak. "I never could."

"I'd understand if you would," Eddie says, and he's stepping closer. They're a foot apart now, eyes locked, and Steve's hands are shaking.

"I've been, uh, working really hard on myself." Steve admits, and he can't help himself. He lifts a hand and tucks a curl behind one of Eddie's ears. "I... I think about you all the time."

Eddie grins, and leans into his touch. "Me too," he murmurs, and drags his thumb over Steve's cheekbone. "I've been putting in the fuckin' work, Steve. And it's not easy, and I'm not perfect. I can't ever promise you perfect. But I'm three years sober, and I think I'm worth it, now. I think you're worth my love and I think I'm worth yours."

"I put in the fuckin work too," Steve mumbles, and he tips his head forwards so their foreheads hit.

When they're forty, they look back on this moment and grin at how little they knew. How much they believed their love would be enough, because the first time it wasn't. But this time, now that they've grown, that they've put in the fucking work?

This time, it's enough.

Eddie looks good with babies on his hips. Steve loves him more every day. They look back at forty, at fifty, at eighty, and they know their love could only have existed because they broke it, and learned by themselves how to fix it. It still hurts sometimes, aches like an old wound, but all Steve needs to do is to squeeze Eddie's hand, to feel his heart beating, and he knows:

He wouldn't trade what they have for the world.

(click here to read Eddie’s version, by the incredibly talented @riality-check !)

[jrueships]

yall thought yall were safe from my 1998 temptations movie posting, but, rest unassured, you are not . melvin is old man running toward you with his chronic rheumatoid arthritis at excruciatingly slow speeds as we speak .

he's so :3

[nyhne]

..

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

decided to rewatch oli's christmas song stream from last year and remind me again why the fuck oli/sausage is a rarepair again. he sings no less than five romantic songs about sausage (admittedly two of those are just different versions of santa, baby). one of them is him and sausage singing baby it's cold outside together. oli literally left heaven to find this man. what. what am i seeing that everyone else isn't hello.

[lunaicfantastic]

robin, steve, and eddie being an attached-at-the-hip, obsessed-with-each-other, must-be-adopted-as-a-group trio is sooooo important to me they are all such complementary flavors of strange and I just know that they have sleepovers where they braid each others hair and graffiti the local watertower

[rainbowwing251]

Ed Headcanons

It’s about time I did this! I did say that I was working on headcanons for Ed AND Eddy when I posted the Edd/ Double D headcanons, and I… kind of fulfilled that promise? Almost, Eddy’s headcanons aren’t done yet. But Ed’s are!

Putting this under a Read More because like the Double D headcanons, this is going to be a long list.

He is the second-most ticklish of the Eds.

Based on the one tickle scene where he’s the lee, his stomach seems to be a weak spot of his, therefore I’m making that his worst spot.

Though really, I feel like he could be a walking tickle spot. Not as much of a walking tickle spot as Double D is, but he’s not that far behind!

For the most part, he loves to be tickled. Tickling makes him happy, and why would he hate something that makes him happy?

The problem with this comes from Sarah tickling him as punishment for misbehaving before she leaves to tell mom. She refuses to show her brother any mercy while she’s tickling him, so he doesn’t like when she tickles him (or at least he didn’t prior to the end of Big Picture Show).

With Double D and Eddy, however, he loves it when they tickle him.

Definitely the one who starts the tickle fights between the Eds. Whether or not he wins them depends of how quickly Eddy gets tickled into submission.

Eddy is NOT going to be an easy victory, even for Ed, so he and Double D often work together to take Eddy down before he tickles them first.

That is of course, if Ed doesn’t decide to tickle Double D first because he’s easier to take down and makes the funniest noises while he’s being tickled, which amuses both him and Eddy at the same time.

Ed is the Tickle Monster of the group. If you don’t want him to tickle you to death (not literally because Ed is surprisingly good at noticing when people are at their limits), you better not show any signs of annoyance, sadness, or anxiousness near him.

Too bad Double D never learned his lesson on experiencing panic attacks around Ed because he will take notice and he will pull him into a hug and tickle him until he can’t even frown anymore.

Ed has canonically said “Coochie coo” or some variant of it at least once, so you bet he’s teasy as fuck, even when he’s not trying to be.

He usually doesn’t use tickle tools unless Eddy comes up with some sort of lie that involves said tool. For example, Ed has once used a featherduster on Double D because Eddy convinced him that the former needed help getting some dust of his shirt knowing full well that he could do it himself.

Tickling Ed is risky because he may accidentally send someone flying, either by launching them off of him if he’s pinned down, slapping the ler away if he’s standing up, or straight up yeeting them if he’s holding them. Of course, he never does this on purpose, and will feel horrible for hurting his ler when it happens.

His laugh isn’t really different from his normal laugh while he’s being tickled, other than him not being able to stop laughing like he normally can.

He’s not as squirmy as Double D is when he’s being tickled, but he might try to break free if you pin him down and he feels he’s approaching his limit. Otherwise, he won’t try to fight back on purpose since he loves being tickled so much.

He’s probably experienced lee and ler moods before, but he has no idea what either of those terms means. If he did though, he’d tell either Eddy or Double D when he’s in either mood with no shame or fear whatsoever.

If Ed’s in a lee mood, tickle him with caution and know that he’ll likely try to get you back. If he’s in a ler mood, run.

[starkstruck27]

Okay wait, but I've got another idea: a Gravity Falls AU. Recently I've been rewatching the show, and I think it has a lot of similarities to ST, so I've been thinking...

Robin and Steve are twins (fraternal, with Robin being two minutes older, and I'm thinking they're, like, 16 or 17 in this AU) and they're sent by their parents to stay with their crazy uncle Hopper over the summer. They live in Chicago, but Uncle Hopper lives in the sleepy little town of Hawkins, and is kind of a mystery. He owns a tourist trap called the Oddity Emporium, and even though he's kind of a stingy, crotchety older guy, he loves them, and the Emporium is where they live.

Robin and Steve move into the bedroom in the attic, and as soon as they get settled, they start to notice some oddities outside of the museum. First, Robin swears she sees a fairy flying around when they're exploring the woods, then Steve is convinced that one of the statues in the town square is in a different position when he comes out of the supermarket, but they have no proof. They try to chalk it up to their uncle's place just messing with their heads, but then, they're exploring the woods one day, and Steve trips and falls into a ditch.

Robin immediately climbs down to check on her brother, and he's fine, but he hit his head on something and they decide to check it out. It turns out to be a chest buried at the bottom of the ditch, and when they finally pry the ancient lock open, they find a book inside.

Steve isn't impressed at first. It's a weird book, what's so special about it? But Robin cracks it open and they start to read, both amazed by what they find. It's some kind of journal, apparently the third in a set, that has a mysterious unknown author, and it details all of the weird creatures and supernatural goings-on that make Hawkins so weird.

At first they don't want to tell anyone about it, not even Uncle Hopper. They don't know why the book was buried, but it seems like there was a reason, right? Maybe it's a government conspiracy or something. But they study it together, trying to figure out who in the crazy little town might have something to do with writing it.

They become friends with Eddie, another guy a little older than them who works at the Oddity Emporium as a handyman/cashier/whatever else is needed of him, and his friends, Gareth, Rich and Jeff. They're the cool kids in Hawkins, rowdy teenagers who just always seem to have the best hangout spots (including a secret ladder that leads to the roof of the Emporium) and the most fun of anyone else in the town. They also befriend some local kids who come with them on adventures, Dustin, Will, Lucas, Erica and Mike. They're all younger than Robin and Steve, but they're pretty cool, and they're more accustomed to the weirdness that plagues the town, so they're pretty awesome to have around.

There's also Mrs. Byers, who runs the diner in town, and her other son Jonathan, who is kind of friends with Eddie and his gang. Jonathan is also Will's older brother, so he and his girlfriend Nancy often tag along on adventures. And of course there's El, the psychic girl who is the centerpiece of the other tourist attraction in town, the Hut of Hypnotism. Her dad and Uncle Hopper have been in a war for best tourist attraction for years, but because El made real friends and doesn't like using her powers (which no one knows how she got) just for him to make money, Hopper often comes out on top. There's the local cops, Powell and Callahan, who are not great at their jobs, but perfect for comedic relief, and finally, the local kook, another hermit who lives in a shack in the woods named Old Man Murray.

Robin and Steve get to know the people of the town pretty quickly, and they find them all pretty amusing for the most part. Even Old Man Murray has his good points. But there's one person that they meet a few weeks into their stay that they simply cannot stand. Billy Hargrove, the rich asshole who's great great grandfather apparently founded the town.

Billy seems just as awful as his parents, who live in the mansion atop the hill with him and his sister, but they kind of have to put up with him, because his little sister is friends with the other kids they're friends with, and he's told to keep an eye on her. But he's still a jerk, snarky and always acting like he's better than everyone else because his family is rich, and he loves to be the center of attention. But as the summer continues and they battle more and more weird monsters, Steve and Robin start to think that he's not so bad.

Especially Steve. Sure, they had a rough start, but after fighting a horde of Goblins, uncovering an ancient tomb with a mummified Native American Chief inside, and working together to capture a vampire that's haunting the old wing of the Hargrove mansion, they've kind of bonded whether they like it or not.

It's about halfway through the summer when things start to get really weird. Firstly, Steve and Robin had to time travel over and over again to make sure the timeline stayed correct and so Steve would still get to keep the pet goat he'd won at the county fair. It was a whole thing. Then, they find out that El's dad, in order to try and get a leg up on Hopper and try and destroy his business, had the second of the three journals, and they had to fight not only the man himself to get it from him, but also some kind of dream demon that went by the name Henry Creel and seemed to enjoy toying with them. They didn't defeat the demon, but he told them that he'd leave them alone until they became important, so they tried to forget about him. And finally, they tell Uncle Hopper about the books, which he laughs off and says is fake, but that some of the things in it would make great attractions at the Emporium. Robin and Steve know the truth, though, and still use the journals to their advantage every time they need to.

Finally, the summer is two thirds done, and Steve and Robin have three major problems: One, they're still no closer to finding the author of the journals. Two, Henry is back, and he's hinting at something big coming soon. Three, Steve has developed a huge, embarrassing, inexplicable crush on Billy Hargrove.

When Robin first finds out about that third one, she groans and tries to remind Steve that all summer Billy was a jerk to him and that they have bigger problems to worry about. But Steve tries to tell her that Billy is changed, he's not really as big a jerk as everyone says and he knows it sounds crazy, but he's pretty sure Billy likes him back. Robin rolls her eyes at first and just tries to focus on their other mission, finding out who wrote the journals, but she can't do it by herself. Every time she tries, Henry appears in her dreams and throws her off course, and it's getting annoying and, quite frankly, terrifying. But eventually Steve returns to help her and they find out that the answer lies much closer to home than they'd realized.

They're walking around the Emporium one day when Robin drops something and it rolls under the porch. She and Steve crawl under to get it, but their combined weight causes a bit of the ground to collapse and they fall into a basement they didn't know was under the Emporium. They're confused, because it doesn't look like the kind of place that Uncle Hopper would have under his house, almost like a bunker of sorts. But the real surprise is when they find not only the journals that they showed Hopper and he never gave back, but the first one, too. He had it all that time.

They're obviously pissed, so they grab the books and find the way upstairs, using an elevator that leads them to a staircase that opens up into the (thankfully empty) gift shop of the Emporium behind the vending machine. They find their uncle and demand an explanation, and he finally tells them the truth.

His daughter was an incredibly intelligent girl. She was always looking for adventures and documenting her findings in the very books they were holding in their hands. This was all before they were born, so they never met their cousin Sara, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Hopper told them that she got in too deep with her mystery hunting, and she encountered Henry Creel long before they did. Only, she made a deal with him, a bad one, and she ended up dead.

Hopper says that the official story that ran in the newspapers was that she had brain cancer, and an aneurysm is what took the young girl away so suddenly. But Hopper knew the truth. Something in those books had killed his little girl, and he didn't know if it was still out there, but he hoped that if he could hide the books well enough, no one would be able to use them to go looking for it. He kept only one for himself, just wanting to hold onto some little piece of her, because it was her greatest passion, and it was all he had left.

After he tells the twins the story, they tell him that they've encountered the same demon, and that it wasn't even their fault, but that they've beat him before. Hopper is amazed, and asks how they did it, but they say they aren't exactly sure, they just knew they didn't give up until he surrendered.

Hopper is still amazed, but he tells them that if they ever encounter the demon again, they're not to engage with him, because he's smart, and he has no qualms about killing for his own gain. He also tells them that he doesn't want them going around looking for any other weird creatures or anything, because if they get caught in some kind of trouble, he doesn't know how to help them and he doesn't want them getting hurt. They say they won't, but they both know they're lying.

Especially when, two days later, Henry comes back, and he says that it's time. He visits them in a dream they end up sharing, and says he's got big plans coming, so he's gonna give them some advice. He tells Robin that she thinks too much, and she should learn to clear her head. Then he tells Steve to keep his friends close, his family closer, and his enemies closest. Then he disappears, and the twins wake up together, scared and confused. But they know that whatever Henry is planning, it's up to them to stop it.

It's a week before they're set to go back home that it happens. They're not sure how, but some sort of rift in the fabric of the universe allows Henry's hellscape of a dimension to leak into theirs, and even more horrifying creatures than the ones they've already seen that summer (and that's saying something, considering they've encountered shapeshifters and bears with multiple heads) start infesting Hawkins and walking around like they own the place. Robin and Steve are both terrified, but they know they have to help fix it, so they start trying to figure out how.

They know it's going to be different than the first time they fought him. That time, they were I the mindscape, where whatever they could imagine would happen, and they could conjure weapons and such. But this time, they're in reality, and they have to rely on their wits and whatever they can scrounge up around them to fight with. They don't know how, but they know they've got to do it.

Finally, they're almost ready to confront the dream demon and fight him with their friends, but before they can get close enough for even one swing at him, he stops them, and starts to monologue, as villains do. He says that it's cute that they thought there was strength in numbers, and he says that that's not how he plays the game. He reminds them of the advice he gave them, and says they're going to need it if they want to save their friends, who he has levitating off the ground by now, all of them frozen and looking terrified. He says that they're going to play a game, and their friends are taken away, flying off to somewhere else in the labyrinth of a palace Henry's built for himself. He tells them that he put one of their friends in each different room of the place, and that they're going to have to go through one room at a time to attempt to save them. Each room will get more and more difficult, and they'll each take a wing of the palace to go through, they can't do it together. They'll get three tries to answer each riddle, and if they can't, then their friend in that room will die an agonizing death. Robin and Steve are terrified, but they stand their ground, and say that they'll do it.

Henry is all too delighted, and tells them that if they manage to do it and get all their friends out alive, then he'll allow them a chance to try and beat him. He's clearly doubting their abilities, and entirely too amused for their liking, but they know it's their only choice, so they accept. And as such, the games begin.

They each get seven rooms. The riddles for Robin start easy, but the answers are so simple that she begins to overthink them, and it almost costs her her second room. But she remembers the advice Henry gave her, and she knows the stakes. She also knows that he never gave them a time limit, so until she's sure she's got the answer, she doesn't even chance it. She saves Mrs. Byers first, then Jonathan, Mike, El, and Erica. The second to last room is occupied by Eddie, and it's one of the simplest riddles, but Robin almost loses again because of the overthinking. She is down to her final try when she finally gets it and saves him, and is finally sent on to her last room, which contains her uncle Hopper. She is timed on that one, but even under the pressure, she's noticed a pattern to all the riddles, they all have something to do with fire, so she figures it out by process of elimination, and saves her uncle.

Meanwhile, Steve is faring a little differently. He doesn't just get riddles with simple answers like his sister, his riddles all have something to do with the person he's trying to save. Something that he would only know if he knew them well. He figures out that this is what Henry meant by "keep your friends close", and once he figures that out, it's pretty much a cakewalk. He saves Nancy, then Murray, then Lucas, Will, Max and Dustin. Finally, he gets to the last room, and he finds Billy inside. This is the hardest room for him, and even though he's not timed, he only gets one chance to get this one right. He thinks about all the other riddles, all of them having to do with either some fear the person had or some kind of thing that could be used against them somehow. And this riddle is one that hardly makes any sense, where the others were mostly pretty simple. Steve tries to break it down bit by bit, like his math teacher taught him to do when they were doing a tough problem, and he finally figures it out. It's asking for the one thing that would make Billy surrender anything for. Steve gives his answer, and it's correct.

After that, Billy drops back to the floor, and the two of them, as well as Robin, Hopper, and everybody else, are teleported back in front of Henry, who is only slightly ticked off that Robin and Steve have figured it all out. But, he plays fair, and tells them that they can take their shot at him. Robin and Steve can't do any kind of sibling communication between their minds, but they did make up a secret language when they were kids, so throughout the battle, they're able to communicate without Henry understanding what they're saying or planning. They talk about the riddles, how all of Robin's had something to do with fire and how Steve's all had something to do with how to gain the upper hand on each of the people he'd saved. It only takes them a second to figure out that Henry was testing them that whole time, because it wasn't just about them being able to save their friends.

It was about seeing if they were smart enough to figure out what his weakness was.

Ultimately, Henry's cockiness led to his own downfall, because as soon as they figured out that fire was his weakness, they found a way to light the sucker up. It hadn't been easy, and they didn't escape unscathed, but once Henry went down, so did all of his minions.

They didn't remember much after that, both of them being too tired and too worried about their friends and the rest of the townsfolk to worry about what happened then, but from what they can guess, Henry died and all of his demons were sucked back into the portal they came out of, and the town was restored to its former glory. There were still weird creatures all around, and it took them a while to repair some of the damage done to buildings and such, but for the most part, Hawkins just went back to being Hawkins.

Soon enough, it was their last day in town, and as they packed up their things and tried to prepare themselves to say goodbye to their friends, they got to talking about Henry and his game again. Robin tells him about how she almost messed up and lost twice, and he comforts her and tells her that she didn't, so it didn't matter, and even if she had messed up, it wouldn't have been on her, it would've been on Henry. She says she knows, but it's still hard, and then she asks him what his hardest riddle was. Steve tells her about the final riddle, how he only got one shot to get it right, and how twisted up the words were so that he almost wasn't able to figure it out. Eventually though, he found out that it was asking for Billy's one weakness, and at this point, Robin interrupts with a scoff and asks how he managed to figure that out.

And now, Steve finally comes clean with her, telling her that after the whole vampire fiasco earlier in the summer, he and Billy started seeing each other. He says that all summer, he'd been wanting to find a nice girl or guy to have a summer romance with, and he finally found it in Billy, and it was around then that he started to get more involved with her and the journal stuff before the shit hit the fan, because he finally had something. He says that he told Billy about Henry once and how he always tries to figure out your weakness to exploit it (in their case, it was the people they cared about) and he says that Billy told him his only weakness would be him and Max. He'd laughed it off as a joke at the time, but he couldn't have been more relieved about it when it finally came down to that stupid riddle. And he's glad he's telling Robin now, because it felt weird to lie to her all that time and now he doesn't have to any more. And Robin is happy for him, really. After all his failed summer romances that she had to bear witness to, she's glad he found someone that made him happy. Even if it was Billy Hargrove.

Finally, their conversation ends, and they have to start getting ready to say goodbye to everybody. They head out to the bus stop that's gonna take them home and everyone is there waiting for them. The kids are all hugging them over and over and practically sobbing as they make them promise to write, the young adults are all hugging them and telling them they had so much fun over the summer and they better come back next year, and the adults are loading them down with snacks for the trip and making sure they've got everything packed. Uncle Hopper even makes sure that Steve's pet goat that he won at the fair is cleared to go home with them (their parents don't know yet and he may have had to threaten the bus driver, but it's for his nephew, so who cares).

And then finally it comes time for them to board the bus. Robin is crying and refusing to let go of Uncle Hopper, the two of them forming a bond over the summer that she says better not be broken by the time they come back next summer. And Steve is emotional, too, over Hopper and everybody else there. But the person that makes him cry the most is Billy. He makes him promise to call all the time, and invites him to come stay with them in Chicago sometime and says that he'll be back to visit as soon as he can manage. Billy promises that all that will happen, and then, just before Steve has to board the bus, he hands him a little present wrapped up in tissue paper. Steve is about to open it, but Billy stops him, and says with a blush pinker than the bubblegum Robin is chewing that he should wait to open it until the next time he misses Hawkins.

That time comes on the bus ride home, after Robin falls asleep next to him and everybody in Hawkins is miles away. It's a scrapbook that Billy must've put together himself, with an entire page dedicated to everybody important and all kinds of pictures from throughout the summer, even before they got together. He got everybody to sign it, and the very last page is just a letter telling him he'll miss him and he's already looking forward to next summer.

Steve can't help the dopey smile on his face as he gets off the bus and immediately runs to a payphone to tell Billy how much he loves it and how many plans he's already making for next year.

[theshippirate22]

what if i were to tell you I had a 17.5k word Steddie fic that’s the plot of All Too Well™️ but with a happy ending just. sitting in a document. ready to be dealt with.

[domsaysstuff]

Spidey!Robin AU

this au from this post is still rotating in my head to the point of insanity so here are some ideas abt it

ronance|side-steddie

Robin didn't like spiders.

She wasn't afraid of them but most of them made her uneasy and she would rather not deal with them. Still, even with her uneasiness she could not bring herself to kill one. Which normally isn't a problem, Steve even if he himself was afraid of them, and Robin knew that, like Robin knew everything about Steve through years of exposure to him and extortion and possibly a case of their brains melting together, he would put a brave face and take care of it for her.

But Steve wasn't here right now and there was a spider on her desk. To top it, the spider itself was looking weird, almost intelligent. Maybe Steve was right and she was studying too much and her brain was going to fry up but she could swear there was something about the spider that made her think it could understand her.

"Here goes nothing." She mumbled to herself. "Okay little guy, I'll take you out the window but you need to stay put, no funny tricks!"

The spider predicably didn't respond.

"Jesus Christ Buckley, you're starting to talk to fucking spiders." She rolled her eyed and then sighed, and moved towards the spider with a sheet of paper. "I'm going to scoop you up on this thing buddy and then carry you to the window."

Still no response. She took a stabilizing breath and did as she said. The Spider, because at this point he deserved to be addressed with capitalized letters, was still staying put and letting itself be moved onto the sheet.

"Huh, this is easy." Steve always moans and complains all until the spider is out their apartment. But then, there rarely is a moment when Steve doesn't complain. Dustin always says he's like a grumpy grandpa, Robin just calls him bitchy. "We're almost there bud."

She opened the window and moved the sheet onto the window still. And then things happened so quickly she could barely blink. The Spider moved towards her hand and she went into the panic mode.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, get off, get off, oh my god, get off, this is not what we agreed on!" Trying to shake it off her hand she also moved closer to the window and that's when she felt it. A small pinch, barely noticeable through her panic. "What the fuck! You bit me!"

The betrayal she felt was almost as strong as her panic, she shook her hand even harder and that's when the spider fell of right into the open window.

Her first thought was, thank god.

Her second was, I'm never laughing at Steve when he needs to throw out a spider ever again.

The third was, oh god it bit me. I'm going to die.

So turns out she was not going to die.

After a panicky call to Steve and a visit at the hospital, it was confirmed she was fine.

So, she's not dying, great, mostly after a week the Spider was almost out of her mind.

And that's when she starts feeling weird.

After that, she discovers she has powers, she tells Steve like, the next day because she can't not tell Steve, c'man, they don't keep secrets so she becomes spiderwoman

Okay so Robin is a freshmen in college and she lives nearby campus with Steve who is also either a freshmen (had a one year gap) or a sophomore

Steve is the og man in chair but they need some way to hack the police radio to get intel and that's where they involve Dustin (bc Steve still is the babysitter, just without the upside down shit) and his tech knowledge, how Erica gets involved is anyone's guess (maybe she makes the costume, i feel like Dustin would definitely be the one to suggest a costume, the lil comic nerd) but she does and so the Scoops Team is like Robin's team of operations

Four months in and Robin is starting to get this vigilante shit. Unfortunately, she's not very, uh, discreet. So the city gets a hero, but also the mystery. Who is Spiderwoman?

Enter Nancy Wheeler. Nancy, the leader of the campus newspaper. Nancy dedicated to become someone big, someone important, Nancy committed to breaking out, hungry for a story that would put her name out there.

So obviously, obviously, she wants to know who spiderwoman is more than anyone. And she's not used to not getting what she wants.

Robin to sway her away from her trail joins the newspaper.

"Why can't you do it Steve?"

"Okay first of all, no one would believe I want to join the newspaper and besides, Nancy is my ex-girlfriend!"

"Yeah! So you know her the best! You know how to distract her!"

"Did you miss the ex part?"

At first they have a bit of enemies flavor to them, because Nancy doesn't know why would Robin do this and also Nancy is publicly anti-spidey and Robin absolutely blabbers and ruins the two times she tries to defend spiderwoman (which actually, i think is just fucking flirting, you can't say Nancy doesn't enjoy a good argument and i think Robin thinks she flunked it but she actually made a few points that had Nancy thinking about them later like, huh, maybe there is something to her point and that makes Nancy feel all warm and fluttery inside, she just enjoys someone who can challenge her) but as they work together they start to have a bit more closer relationship

And she can't help it, she can't help it but develop a crush on Nancy fucking Wheeler of all people. But it's just she's so pretty and actually kind and stubborn and fierce, how was Robin not supposed to have a crush?

But Nancy Wheeler has a boyfriend. A boyfriend that also works for the newspaper. Jonathan Byler is a photographer for the campus newspaper and the biggest issue with him is that Robin actually fucking likes the guy.

And the thing is that at first Robin only really faces off against some petty criminals, like no one supernatural, for all she knows she is the only supernatural person in the world

Then Venom appears and Venom wants to fuck shit up. The guy is practically on a big power trip™ and Robin must stop him.

She can like spidersense him but only if she's really close to him, usually it works better, but this is almost like he's masking?? She doesn't really get it but she knows it it screws with her spidersense

And either they think its eddie munson because its just fit with the crime places and shit (but he's human) or one day her and Steve are walking through campus and they pass Eddie Munson and her spider senses are tingling™ (because he's spidey, bc spideys as a queer metaphor my beloved, also just imagine just how funny it would be if Eddie asked Robin if Steve is also like them (meaning queer) and she took it as meaning spidey so she's like "he wishes" chuckling and then starts talking how great and supportive he is tho, so Eddie thinks Steve is straight but a great ally snssj)

Either way Steve needs to get closer to Eddie Munson ("why i have to spend time with Eddie the freak Munson?" "Because i just joined the newspaper last month dingus! It's your time to pull your weight, besides your kids beg you like all the time to play their dice game! It's a good excuse!") so he starts sitting on hellfire meetings that is less a highschool club now and more of a friends meeting up together after Eddie graduated, under the disguise that he finally caved in with the kids begging (if he falls for Eddie Fucking Munson it's noones but his and Robin's business)

Venom is obvs Billy

Also! Also! A scene of Nancy sort of coming out to Robin, but not really Robin but spiderwoman and admitting her crush on Robin to her, on like some rooftop of a building after Robin saved her or some shit and Nancy is like "i feel like you would understand, constantly feeling torn between two words and identities" and it's like this vulnerable moment for Nancy and it's very bittersweet for Robin because now she knows

But she shouldn't have known. She shouldn't, she should have stopped Nancy before she said anything because she has really no right to know. Nancy didn't tell it to Robin Buckley, she said it to Spiderwoman. And after that Robin is a bit weird around Nancy because she KNOWS but she SHOULDN'T and oh god, she's gonna puke

And then Nancy finding out abt Robin being Spidey and feeling betrayed but also rejected because she now knows she revealed her crush to Robin and in turn Robin started acting weird so she takes this as rejection and it's this miscommunication between them and also maybe at this moment Robin also feels like a shit spiderwoman because Billy hurt Steve, who tried to protect the kids and she was unable to stop it and Steve is hurt and Nancy is mad at her and she can't be a superhero and she can't be just a normal girl and she feels so mad and tired

Anyway that's all i have, if you read this far I'm giving you a big kiss on the forehead 💖

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

hey, uh, @appledaggerst, i just read part 2 to we’re better off as lovers and i just want to say: whaT THE FUCK EHAT THA FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

link to this series here if you haven’t read it yet, make sure to read WBOAL first!!

[mystra-midnight]

— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?" 

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed. 

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside. 

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends. 

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself. 

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect. 

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you. 

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely. 

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact. 

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush. 

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape. 

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you. 

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

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[catherinnn]

Truth or Dare Harrington?

Steddie x reader

summary: The gang has a night out singing karaoke and drinking. When the party dies down, this trio continues the fun at your apartment.

warnings: SMUT (+18), threesome, p i v, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), oral sex (m & f), no body descriptions appart that it's afab reader, smoking weed and drinking alcohol.

words: 3.2 k. masterlist

It had started as a fun night out celebrating you were all finally available, the entire group.

Ever since some of you started collage and others started working, the group wasn't what it once was. But tonight you were all here, drinking shot after shot and finishing endless cups of whatever you were ordering.

You went to a karaoke bar –Robin's idea– and it was the most fun you have had in a while.

You did all from solo songs to duets.

You sang 'I'm Just a Girl' with the girls; you sang a duet with Eddie doing 'The Chain'; Steve dared you to sing 'Take My Breath Away'; and then you made him sing 'Last Christmas' –even though it is July– but he made you sing it with him. Eddie and Steve dedicated you their version of 'Maneater' which you didn't know if you should be flattered or offended by.

To sum up, every possible song until your vocal cords hurt.

After that, you offered your apartment to keep the party going. Steve and Eddie were the firsts to say yes very excitedly, but the rest of the gang decided to head home already, calling it a night.

Eddie offered to share some of his good stuff but they went off either way. You still agreed to go and smoke at least for a little while with the boys.

That's how you ended up in your couch, passing a joint among the three of you while you played some dumb drinking game.

"Truth" Eddie chooses.

"Who of the two of us was your favorite to sing with tonight?" you ask him.

"Oh, that's mean. I liked both of you," Eddie takes a moment to think. "but I think we had a lot of chemistry on that stage, big boy"

"What?" you ask offended at his answer. "We had so much chemistry with that song, and it was much more of an iconic moment than yours!"

"Hey hey, he already made his decision!" Steve argues. "Control your jealousy"

"Get out of my apartment" you joke.

"Alright, calm down, I'll make you choose too" Eddie starts. "If you were... stranded on a desert island with one of us, who would it be?"

You roll your eyes, "that's easy, Steve" Eddie gasps offended and Steve grins proudly. "Well, because he was an athlete, he has a good body to survive and also take care of me" you tried to defend your answer.

"I'll take care of you baby" Steve winks at you.

Eddie and you start bickering until Steve makes you shut up and keep playing.

"Quit fighting, Eddie I dare you to say your favorite thing about her"

Eddie smirks already knowing his answer, "Umm, let me think," he says, pretending to be indecisive while forming two circles with his hands in front of his chest, mimicking the shape of breasts.

Steve laughs at this and you roll your eyes containing your giggle.

"Uh- no, it's her eyes, definitely" he answers for real this time.

"Yours?" Steve asks you now. "What's your favorite think about him?"

"Umm," you look at him while thinking your answer. "I could say your eyes as well, but I don't want to copy you... and I love your hair but we have the king of all hairs here present" you say referring to Steve. "I really like your smile, your whole face lights up when you smile, and you have those cute dimples too"

Eddie, ironically, can't help but smile at your statement.

"My turn" you declare. "Stevie, truth or dare"

"Dare"

"I dare you to... hold hands with Eddie for the next three rounds"

"Alright" he takes the other man's hand in his as he also takes the joint from his mouth to keep smoking himself. The latter rolls his eyes at this.

More rounds like that continue, where Eddie makes you sit on Steve's lap until you finish playing, and you make Eddie do a sexy dance without music where you couldn't stop laughing.

"Truth or dare Harrington?" the metalhead asks him.

"Truth"

"What is... a fantasy of yours? A sexy one"

"Uh..." Steve debates whether to say it or not. "Well, I've always wanted to- um, to have a threesome"

"Really?"

"Yeah"

"With two girls?" you ask him.

"Yeah... or a guy and a girl too, I think" he confesses.

"Princess, I dare you and Steve to shotgun" Eddie says all of the sudden.

"What? It's not even your turn"

"We're not even following those rules anymore" he defends.

"Uh, fine" you agree either way.

Steve grabs the joint and as you were already on his lap you just turn your head to look at him.

"I'll do it, yeah?" he checks and you nod.

He takes a drag and holds it, you move your head as close as you can so your lips are almost touching. He exhales the smoke into your mouth and you inhale it.

You don't know if it's the weed or having Steve so close to your face you're almost kissing, but you get a little dizzy on your head.

"You okay?" he checks on you again noticing this. You nod slowly without moving away yet, as you exhale the smoke.

Eddie looks at this smirking, enjoying the scene. "Steve, I dare you to kiss her"

"W- what?"

"Oh, you are both dying to! Just do it already!" he accuses.

You and Steve look back at each other as if you're asking the same question: Can we?

And you both give each other a little nod.

Therefore, Steve slowly closes the distance, finally kissing you.

His lips feel soft on yours. You can taste something sweet as well as the weed from before. The kiss is slow and tender, he caresses your cheek to pull you closer. Your hands go to his hair, feeling how soft it is.

When you separate, you let a little laugh out and so does he.

"That's cute" Eddie comments. You both look back at him.

Steve tries something, hoping it goes well. "Munson, I dare you to kiss her now"

He looks at Steve surprised, but with a smile on. As if he couldn't believe he had said that.

"Can I, sweetheart?" He asks you.

It's like having a little red devil on one shoulder saying, 'Yes! Go kiss him!' and a little angel on the other shoulder saying, 'No, you shouldn't be doing this.’

You pick the devil's side.

Getting down from Steve’s lap, you move closer to the other boy now.

He smirks at you before pressing his lips to yours.

This kiss was a little harder, not fast, just more passionate. He tastes like mint mixed with a smoky sent, being the weed and cigarettes. His hand is also on your cheek, almost at your jaw, keeping you in place. Your hands are also on his hair as you play with his curls.

You separate and feel that dizzy head again. What are these boys doing to you?

He smiles as well as Steve did and you ignore the little jump your belly does.

"I think there's only one move left" you comment as you look at them. You point at one, then at the other, and continue moving your finger back and forth between them, indicating both of them.

Eddie looks at Steve with a big grin. He's enjoying this way too much.

"O- okay" Steve agrees and they get closer until they start kissing.

You lean back enjoying the show. They don't hold back, it’s not a mere peck on the lips, not even close to that. They kiss properly. You wonder if now their tastes are mixed as well. Or if they can taste your lips as well as each other's.

You sit up and get closer to them. They separate and both look at you with puffy lips, you smile at that sight. You feel their hands at your waist bringing you closer. You grab both their faces gently as you bring them closer together and to you.

They see you closing your eyes and they follow you.

It's your first three-way kiss, it's not as uncomfortable as you imagined it would be. It's pretty fun actually, feeling both of their lips against yours, tongues meeting each other again. It's really hot.

You separate after a few minutes of that, looking at them smiling.

"Umm, do you... do any of you want to stop?" Steve asks a bit awkwardly.

Eddie is quick to shake his head, looking at you expectantly.

"Me either" you confirm.

Eddie smiles and kisses you again. You extend your hand to Steve so he doesn't feel left out. He takes it and starts to kiss your neck now. You let out a soft moan against the other boy's mouth.

Kisses and touches are shared among the three of you. You feel Eddie's hands under your shirt and Steve's on your ass. The metalhead lifts your shirt up a little as if asking you if it's okay, you separate from Steve's mouth and lift your arms up. He bites his lips as he takes the shirt off.

Both boy's hands are quickly on your waist, belly and chest.

"You can take that off too, you know?" you say referring to you bra. They look at you as if you just told them they won the lottery.

Steve is the first to reach the back of your bra and unhook it. Eddie's hands take your straps and slowly takes it off completely.

They stare at your boobs as if it is the first time they're seeing breasts. You know for a fact that it's not.

Steve's hands that were on your waist, travel upwards to touch them. Eddie goes to kiss your neck and travel down to your chest, and then to your breasts.

Steve kisses you again and you go to take his shirt off now. You moan on his mouth as Eddie plays with your tits expertly, making you more impatient.

“Can you lay down for us, sweetheart?” Steve asks you and you do as he asked.

Eddie sits up next to Steve, looking down at you as well. Steve whispers something in Eddie’s ear and he nods in agreement. You frown.

“Care to share with the class, boys?” you tell them. Eddie smirks at your joke but stays quiet.

“We just want to take of you” Steve starts.

“Enjoy you a little bit. Does that sound good, princess?” Eddie continues.

You’re still intrigued of what they agreed on, but accept either way.

“Good, just relax for us” Eddie says again as he hovers on top of you and starts kissing you. You enjoy having him like this. You feel Steve’s hands on your thighs going up to your hips.

“Can I take these off?” he asks referring to your pants and you give him the green light.

He unbuttons your pants and takes them off, taking his time, caressing your thighs while you still enjoy of the other boy’s lips on yours.

“These are so cute, baby” the bigger boy comments making Eddie stop kissing you to turn his head and see what he was talking about.

“Oh” Eddie lets out sweetly, “Do you always wear pretty panties like these?” he teases and you shake your head. “No? And why did you wear them tonight?”

You shrug this time, acting innocent. The truth is they make you feel good about yourself. You feel pretty and hot with them. As you knew you were going to go out with them tonight, you wanted the confidence. But you weren’t going to admit that.

“Just a coincidence? Or did you wear them because you were gonna see us?” Eddie continues teasing you.

“What do you think?” you say against his lips, challenging him.

“I think you’re not as innocent as you seem right now” he confesses and it takes everything in you not to make him lay down now as you sit in top of him and see if he can still tease you that way. But you don’t, because you also want to focus on Steve.

“Stop it you two” Steve orders.

“Open your pretty legs, baby” Eddie changes the subject smirking as he moves to face your panties now.

Steve takes advantage of this and lays next to you as he starts kissing your neck.

Eddie finally takes your underwear off and you feel him kissing your thighs, traveling up.

You turn to kiss the boy next to you and he responds happily, caressing from your waist, to your back, your neck, your hair. Everywhere he can really.

Eddie’s kisses move to your cunt now, focusing on your clit and teasing your entrance with two of his fingers.

It’s harder to focus now, Eddie puts his mouth to good use when he’s not mocking you. He makes you feel so good, knowing exactly where and how to play with your pussy. This, added with the touches and kisses Steve leaves on your skin, making you burn.

You moan as you back to kissing Steve, one of your hands on his hair and the other on the hair of the boy kissing you lower. Pulling at each mane.

Eddie doesn’t even want to blink, looking at you both make out as you hide your moans on Steve’s mouth. He is enjoying your sweet taste and the beautiful view. Flickering his tongue quickly on your clit and then sucking on it, he enters two of his fingers in you, making you arch, he smirks against your pussy.

His tongue moves in sync with his fingers, picking a more urgent pace as he feels you clench. You separate from Steve as you keep moaning.

“Gonna cum, baby? Are you close?” the latter asks as he enjoys watching you like this.

“Yes, mmph” you let out pulling on the long set of hair and arching even more as you cum. Your legs try to close but Steve stops them before you succeed.

Eddie keeps licking your pussy for a few more seconds after you cum, to then get up triumphantly. Steve grabs the boy to give him another kiss, tasting you on his tongue. Both men moan at this.

While you catch your breath you see them as they undress each other completely. When they’re done, they look back at you.

“Do you want to keep going?” Eddie asks you and you tell them yes.

They make you sit in the middle on them, your back to Steve. Eddie kisses you and you still taste yourself a little, Steve kisses your whole back.

The tattooed boy steps back, and Steve slowly pushes you down, positioning you all on fours.

“If you want to stop at any time, please tell us. Okay?” He says in your ear and you nod.

You feel Eddie’s hand on your chin, making you look up. He kisses you again as you feel Steve positioning himself in your entrance.

“Can I, baby?�� he checks one more time, and you give him the green light once again.

You moan in Eddie’s mouth as you feel Steve entering you. He’s big, really big, making you feel him everywhere.

Eddie kisses your check, jaw, and neck until you get used to Steve’s size. Then he gets up, and you’re now facing his belly.

Before either of them says anything, you understand what they want to do. You start kissing his happy trail down to his cock. He’s also very big, a little less thick than Steve, but definitely nothing for him to feel jealous of.

You feel Steve moving slow but deep inside you, and as he feels you getting more wet around him, he fastens his thrusts.

You start kissing Eddie’s head and licking his length for a few seconds just to tease him. Then you finally wrap your lips around him, slowly entering your mouth. He throws his head back, getting lost in the pleasure.

“Your mouth feels so good, princess, fuck” he curses.

Steve moves faster at this, “Pussy’s so good too, you’re just fucking perfect” he moans.

You moan with your mouth completely full, making Eddie grunt and wrap his hand in your hair, also preventing it from bothering you.

Both boys take pleasure on the view as well. Eddie can see Harrington with his mouth slightly open, letting some moans and curses out as he moves perfectly inside you. He can see your round ass and Steve’s hands gripping it harshly. Lastly, he can see your beautiful face in pleasure as you take all of him in your mouth. He wonders how he can be so fucking lucky to be living this, but wishes it never stops.

Steve watches your pussy take him expertly, from his tip until he feels his pelvis come in touch with your skin. He watches your ass all round and perfect in front of him; he can’t see your face, but he sees Eddie’s hand grip your hair tighter and tighter until his skin turns white. He watches the other boy’s tattooed chest and arms, with his head turning back in pleasure from time to time, showing his big neck.

“Fuck yes, just like that, princess” Eddie curses. And Steve smirks feeling you clench around him.

“She likes hearing you, Munson”

“Oh, do you now? You like me saying how good you’re taking me? Best fucking blowjob I’ve ever had” You feel a tingle of jealousy imagining him with another girl in her knees for him, you’ll find a way to bother him with that when your mouth is not completely full.

“Fuck, she really does” Steve snitches on you and Eddie laughs.

“Such a good play toy we have here for us, Harrington”

“Fucking right we do”

Eddie feels you whimper against him. You separate, taking him out of your mouth to breathe for a second.

“That’s good, catch your breath, sweetheart” he says as he brushes his thumb over your swollen lips.

“Fuck, Steve! Harder!” you take the advantage to tell him and he obeys, making you face the cushions now form how hard he’s thrusting in and out.

“I can feel how close you are, baby, cum for us” He orders now, sliding a hand to play with your clit.

“Oh, yes yees, just like that!” You grip the cushions hard as you let yourself come undone.

“Shit baby, you’re so hot” He moves harder and faster now, catching his climax.

He quickly takes himself out, stroking his cock fast until he cums on your back, cursing and moaning as he does.

He picks up his shirt and cleans you out as you catch your breath.

You feel Eddie now next to you again.

“You feel okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I’m really good” you comment, and you see he’s still hard.

“Eds” you get up to sit on his lap, but he stops you.

“Wait, hey. Do you want to keep going? We don’t have to?”

You roll your eyes playfully, still appreciating his concern, and you kiss him again.

He kisses you back so needy, grabbing you to sit on him and feeling you up.

He stops for a second and looks to the side of the room, Steve is sitting down watching you. Eddie signals the seat next to him, and Steve gets closer to you.

You go back to kissing Eddie, and Steve is kissing his neck.

Hands are everywhere, feeling each other’s bodies. You get up slightly and grab Eddie’s dick so you can sit on him.

“Oh, shit” he moans against Steve’s mouth. You move back and forth on him, Steve’s hands controlling your movements, helping you to ride Eddie.

“Oh fuuck” you moan arching my back.

“Sensitive baby?” Steve teases you and you nod.

“You feel so good, princess, holy shit” his head rests back on Steve’s shoulder. You both go to kiss and bite his neck, leaving marks behind just like the one’s Steve’s leaving on your hips from his tight grip.

“You feel so so good in me, baby” You tease him a little, whisper in his ear. “You both did, stretching me out so well, my big boys”

“Fuck- I- I’m not gonna last, I’m so close” He rests his head on your shoulder now, leaving bites and kisses.

“Cum with me Eds, I’m so close too” you jump faster now.

“Look at our little bunny here” Steve keeps teasing you both now, Eddie looks up at you and kisses you once again.

“Mhh, cum Eddie! Cum with me!” You tell him as you let go. He follows you right behind, grunting your name.

You stay like that with him, hugging each other. Steve gets up to grab a glass of water and a towel so he can clean you up once again.

He rests back on the couch next to you two.

“That was incredible” he comments.

“It really was” you say, turning your head to look at him, still resting with Eddie.

“You okay, Munson?” Steve checks since he stayed silent.

“I’m awesome man” he finally lets out. “and was incredible, indeed”

“You’re staying over? Don’t make me sleep alone now” you ask them.

“Of course, sweetheart”

“If you insist, princess”

You let out a small laugh, pleased with their answers.

“Let’s go to bed before we fall asleep on the couch” Steve orders.

And you sleep with one of them on each side, all cuddling together. You haven’t slept that good in a while.

[lovebugism]

Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

[vivwritescrappythings]

squeeze

tattoo artist!eddie munson x fem!afab!reader

Eddie is your tattoo artist and long term boyfriend, one night you have an idea of how to spice up your next tattoo session.

an: idk why I thought of this but I did

cw: fem and afab reader, needles, tattoos, unsanitary tattoo practices, don’t let anyone do this to you, p in v sex, cockwarming, masturbation, mild dubcon, mentions of marijuana use, i picture this version of eddie as older, masochism, swearing, dirty talk, not proofread.

wc: 2.3k

masterlist

MDNI

—

It was only after a few joints that you could have ever thought this was a marginally good idea. You and Eddie were well baked by the time you stumbled out of his van in the alley, eyes bloodshot and a wide smile on your face. The rest of the tattoo shop was dark as Eddie snuck you in the back door, the two of you giggling like vandals as though it wasn’t his shop. The keys jingled as he tucked them back into his pocket, nudging you toward his station.

He turned on the harsh fluorescent lamps surrounding the leather chair in the center of the small space. Paper screens separated it from the rest of the store, drawings and sketches stuck haphazardly all over the dividers and walls. “You’ve been drawing more,” you murmured, looking over the magnitude of new additions.

Eddie was already wiping down the chair and getting set up, looking over his shoulder at you with a hum of acknowledgment. You took in the way his shoulders filled out his worn Metallica shirt, his jacket hanging on a hook near the back door. There was something about his warm, chocolate-colored eyes that made your heart flutter every time he glanced at you.

“You gonna pick something out or just stare at me?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You rolled your eyes, a little too stoned to come up with a response you considered to be clever enough. The wall of flash tattoos beckoned you closer. Eddie had given you countless tattoos at that point, insisting that dating a tattoo artist meant you had to get all your work done by him.

Anyone else would just be cheating.

It was how the two of you met five years ago: you came into the shop with a crumpled piece of paper with a book quote you loved scrawled onto it looking to get your very first tattoo. Eddie had stolen you from the guy who usually took the walk-in clients with a saccharine smile, ushering you to his little sectioned off area and charging you half what he normally would for a tattoo that size. You left with fresh ink and Eddie’s number, and the rest was history.

You squinted up at dozens of drawings crudely taped to the wall, admiring the smooth linework and the variety. There were a few from his Hellfire days, fleshed out Dungeons & Dragons monsters and sets of dice high up near the ceiling. The rest were the typical subjects: skulls and flowers and doodles of food and ghosts.

It was hard to decide, your arms folding over your chest as you worried your lower lip with your teeth. Normally it was a quick decision, you’d pick something off the wall or had an idea of your own and Eddie would be off to the races.

That time it took Eddie pulling out the battered notebook he insisted he did his best work in, his name scratched into the black cover. “How about this one? Been workin’ on it, thought it would look good on you,” he murmured, flipping it open to a page in the middle.

The drawing was beautiful, detailed and delicate while still fitting with the rest of your tattoos. You realized that Eddie was listening when you told him you wanted to tattoo your sternum a few months ago, the pages littered in drawings that were suited to the smooth patch of skin over the bone. As always, he knew what you wanted more than you did.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” you finally said, tracing it with your fingertip.

“Yeah? You sure?” Eddie asked, already rifling through drawers to put together a stencil.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you sat back on the leather chair. “Matches everything else you’ve put on me,” you said, making yourself comfortable as he went off to trace out a stencil.

You fidgeted with the well-worn Corroded Coffin shirt you were wearing, running your fingers over the torn-up hem and looking up at the ceiling tiles Eddie had painted black.

Meeting Eddie must have been the luckiest moment of your life. You never thought that you’d find someone, for some reason you’d been convinced that you were beyond what anyone wanted—destined to be the old lady with the cats at the end of the street. But Eddie wanted you, he wanted you fiercely and with a passion that was almost startling sometimes.

“Alright, dove, shirt off,” Eddie said, startling you out of your thoughts. He rounded the corner with the stencil in hand, chocolatey eyes focused on you.

You complied, slipping the shirt off your head and tossing the fabric onto a nearby folding chair. The cold air in the shop made you shiver with just your pajama shorts on. You’d forgone wearing a bra, the trip to the tattoo parlor borne from a spontaneous idea you had in the living room of your shared apartment.

“Never gonna get tired of that,” Eddie mumbled, staring at your chest as you settled back onto the cold leather. You rolled your eyes as your face started to heat up, part of you wanting to cover your chest with your hands.

Eddie stood between your legs, rolling over the silver tray that held the little containers of ink and gloves and his machine. He’d already washed his hands, his fingers were cold as he shaved off the smattering of vellus hairs covering your skin. You squeaked when he wiped down your skin with an alcohol pad. His tongue poked out when he concentrated, his brow furrowed as he started to apply the stencil.

He pressed firm to get it to transfer, pulling the strip of paper away and reaching for a mirror for you to see it. It was weird to see yourself reflected back in the small hand mirror. You sat up to properly inspect how it looked between your tits, the U-shaped stretch marks between them catching and shining in the fluorescent light. The mirror tilted up, letting you see your own bloodshot, hazy gaze in the mirror. The blunts Eddie had rolled earlier were strong.

“Looks great, Eds,” you said, lips quirking into a grin as you settled back on the chair. Eddie hummed, letting the mirror drop with a clatter on his drawing space as he went to wash his hands again.

He came back ready, black latex gloves pulled over his hands and hair tied back in a low bun at the nape of his neck.

Bony hips knocked the insides of your thighs apart, your boyfriend curling down over you. “You still feeling up to the rest of this?” he asked, a brow lifting until it disappeared under his frizzy bangs. You were silent for a minute, taking in the sincerity of his expression. “You don’t have to if you’re not feeling right, dove. I can just do the tattoo and we can go home.”

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head and blurting out protests a little too eagerly. It made him grin, boyish charm returning to his stubble-ridden face as though he wasn’t a day out of high school.

“If you feel uncomfortable, what do you say?” Eddie prompted softly, leaning forward to nudge his nose against your temple. He didn’t touch you with his hands, keeping them sterile.

“Yoo-hoo,” you mumbled a little sheepishly. Eddie picked it, the safe word always made you roll your eyes.

He hummed sweetly, pressing a kiss just above your eyebrow. “That’s right,” Eddie said, the simple praise already making you feel warm.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him, watching him get the machine going and getting ink on the needles. It felt like your body was buzzing with anticipation, your knees squeezing at his waist.

“Help me out, can’t get my hands dirty,” Eddie said, twisting to fuss with something on the tray next to him. You didn’t care about what he was grabbing, only reaching forward to loop your fingers in the waistband of the sweatpants he was wearing. On a normal day he wouldn’t be caught dead here in sweatpants.

The original idea had come from you. Something in your stoned mind combined to make you ask Eddie if he’d ever thought about cockwarming while giving a tattoo. He looked at you like you’d grown a second head, but fifteen minutes later he wanted to bring your fantasy to life.

“Been so fucking hard ever since you brought this up,” Eddie hissed through his teeth as you pulled his sweatpants down over his cock. It slapped up against his stomach, the tip flushed red and already leaking. You swallowed thickly, reaching out to wrap your hand around him.

The soft moan coming from Eddie’s pink lips was gratifying in more ways than you expected, satisfaction making you feel warm as you looked up at him through your lashes.

“You want me to take my shorts off?” you asked quietly, tilting your head to one side. There was a thrill associated with being naked in the tattoo shop. Of course, it was the middle of the night as no one would have reason to be there, but it still felt scandalous all the same.

“Yeah,” he said, the harsh buzzing of the tattoo machine starting as he touched the needle to the ink. The sound was familiar to you now, part of you associating it with Eddie. “It’ll be complicated to do this if you leave them on.”

You rolled your eyes, letting go of him to strip yourself of your shorts. He cursed under his breath when he saw you completely naked on the chair. Brown eyes traveled over every curve and slope of your body, taking it all in with reverence as his tongue poked out to run over his bottom lip.

There was a brief pause, the two of you waiting for the other to do something. Eddie ended up taking charge.

“Play with yourself for me,” he mumbled, staring down at your cunt. His gloved fingers twitched. “Get her nice and wet.”

Your face heated up at his request, bashfulness binding your chest together for a moment. It was impossible not to comply with Eddie’s request, your fingers finding their place between your legs. You touched yourself without fanfare, your fingertips settling on either side of your clit and rubbing in tight circles.

His gaze was locked on your cunt, chin pressed to his chest and lips parted. Normally you would be embarrassed under that kind of focus, but the awe shining in Eddie’s eyes made your anxiety slip away.

Your movements were practiced and smooth, sending electricity up and down your spine. It was easy to get turned on, your breaths eventually becoming pants and wetness building up around your fingers. His jaw was clenching, you knew he wanted to pull your fingers away and touch you himself.

He huffed, swallowing hard before directing his gaze to your eyes. “Alright, let’s do this,” he said, stepping in closer between your legs. “Before I just decide to ruin my sterile environment and fuck you the right way.”

The idea was enticing, making you bite your lip as you considered. But you already came all the way down here and had the stencil placed and ink in the tattoo gun. And you wanted to make your fantasies happen.

You grabbed Eddie’s cock, your wet fingers smearing down the length of it. Of all the times you fucked, you almost never were the one to guide him inside of you. It was a bit clumsy as you dragged his tip through the soaked seam of your cunt, nudging against the swollen bud of your clit a few times.

Finally you hit your mark, Eddie’s deep moan filling the air as he slotted himself inside of you with a strong thrust. The patch of dark, soft curls at his base brushed against your already sensitive clit. The stretch made you see stars. Your head rolled back against the leather chair, a breathy whine pulling from you as he rubbed against every gummy ridge and gooey spot inside of you.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. He seemed to be going through a similar sense of euphoria, his long lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he breathed into the feeling.

His eyes open, pupils expanding like ink in water as he curled over you, readying the tattoo machine over your chest. He blinked hard, rutting softly against you once… twice… before steadying. The concentration was incredible to witness, his expression hardening and jaw flexing again.

“You ready, dove?” he asked, briefly glancing up at you before staring at the patch of stenciled skin like he could burn a tattoo into it with just his eyes.

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling like your entire body was made up of TV static as you willed yourself to relax on the chair.

He nodded, the familiar buzz of the tattoo gun starting again. It pressed to your skin like fire, the vibration carrying from the gun all the way down into the flat bone of your sternum. You held your breath without meaning to, toes curling.

Eddie groaned, a smile finding its way onto his face. “You’re squeezing so fucking tight around me,” he said, voice a bit raspier than normal.

You made a conscious effort to relax, staring up at the ceiling and tapping the tips of your fingers along the sides of the chair. “Sorry,” you murmured, a giggle echoing from you as Eddie resumed the line he was tattooing.

Each stab of the needles kept your body alight, teetering you on the edge of pain and pleasure. “You're such a masochist.”

You smiled, your gaze hazy and your pussy fluttering a bit as you took shallow breaths. “I know, it’s gonna be a long night.”