Wild [+reckless driving] (Steddie)
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Eddie blows smoke out the window as they drive, and Steve tries to keep his eyes on the road. With anyone else, that task would’ve been easy—Steve’s a real stickler for safety, plus his car is like his baby, and if anything happened to her he might as well die, too.
That’s dramatic, but still.
Eddie’s different. Steve couldn’t ignore him if he tried, and trust him, he fucking tries—especially racing down the highway in the middle of the night. It’s just impossible—those long, dark curls framing his face, his slump into the seat and spread of his knees, the tattoos that litter his arms like he has quilted limbs. Steve never knew a man could be so beautiful, and that scares him, but not enough to keep him away. He’s so drawn to it all—the bad boy, town pariah, nerdy charm. It’s like Robin and Nancy had a baby and it’s Eddie, which is sort of weird but mostly like a death trap. It's like the universe created him specifically, scarily specifically.
How could Steve not like him? How could Steve not want to jump his bones—press him into any flat surface and—
God, Steve wants to kiss him. Badly. He’s sure he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Everyone he’s ever been interested in kissing has been equally interested in kissing him—it wasn’t exactly difficult back in the days of high-school and being “Mr. Popular.”
Now it feels insurmountable, like Steve’s standing at the bottom of a cliff he has to scale in order to reach Eddie “the freak” Munson at the top, a feeling he never would’ve anticipated having, ever. Certainly not until Dustin had introduced them, insisting they’d get along and being right beyond measure.
They got along too well.
“Eyes on the road, Stevie.”
Steve turns quickly back to empty highway, despite his reluctance. He can feel Eddie grinning at his side profile, the arrogant bastard. This has been happening a lot lately—Eddie catching him. Steve would feel more embarrassed about it if Eddie really said anything, or called him out, but no. Just that stupid little grin like his ego’s swollen ten sizes. Part of Steve would prefer Eddie said something so he knew whether or not he stood a fucking chance.
“I don’t know if you know this,” Eddie continues, surprising Steve, because he rarely continues, “But you’ve been giving me the eyes, lately.”
Steve’s grip tightens on the wheel, he adjusts his hands, and then he tries to relax. They do need to talk about it. No matter how awkward it is, it’s only fair. At the very least, Steve wants to keep being friends with the boy, so as long as they have an open and honest discussion—
“Pull over.”
Steve’s brows furrow. He looks over at Eddie, but Eddie’s just staring out the window at the spanning corn fields. He flicks his cigarette out.
“Ed, we’re in the middle of—”
“Pull over.”
Eddie’s still not looking at him. Steve sighs.
“What are we doing?” Steve questions, popping open his car door, because whatever’s going on, it seems like Eddie wants to be out for it. He walks around the front, taking a deep breath of sweet, night air. He can faintly smell cigarette smoke, definitely Eddie, but for the most part, it satisfies his lungs like a cool glass of water. He rounds the front, and leans up against his BMW next to Ed, who’s got his arms crossed and is still not looking in Steve’s direction.
“I know that I’m giving you… the eyes, or whatever,” Steve says, itching to break the silence, “I just thought—” He cuts himself off with a sharp gasp as Eddie turns, caging Steve in against the car, their hips flush together and their foreheads bumping just soft enough that it doesn’t hurt. Steve wants to play it cool, but there’s absolutely no saving himself from reaching beneath Eddie’s vest and clenching his fingers in that dorky Hellfire t-shirt. He nearly swallows his tongue as the hand that’s not bracing Ed against the car slips two fingers through one of his belt loops.
“Tell me no,” Eddie mutters, still not looking at him.
He’s eyeing Steve's mouth, instead.
Steve begins to pant—absolutely mortifying considering Eddie’s done nothing but move to share space with him. His chest and shoulders heave with breath, and his mouth has gone so dry, he feels like he just woke up from a bender. He watches Eddie intently, anticipating, aching.
“I can’t,” he whispers.
The distance between them closes and Steve is pulling relentlessly on that shirt, desperate to be closer to Eddie than he already is which would be impossible unless Steve literally crawled beneath his skin. Eddie’s hand, which had been the only thing stopping Eddie’s body from completely crushing him against his BMW, moves to angle Steve’s chin—a move which lights Steve’s entire body on fire, because never once has he been corrected while kissing. Never once had a girl had the audacity to tell him what to do, how to be, and Steve is realizing now he craves that—that mindless direction.
Tell me what to do and I will do it. Make me good for you.
Eddie’s only kissing him and is somehow awakening his most severe desire.
When they break the first time, they’re both breathless. Eddie presses firmly into Steve’s body and it hurts with his back awkwardly pinned against his car, but he would not have Eddie anywhere else in the world. In fact, he hopes it continues to hurt for the rest of his life so this moment is permanently etched into his skin like a festering bruise.
“I honestly didn’t think this would go so well,” Eddie admits. Steve’s eyes flick down to those soft lips—the ones that taste like nicotine and spit, not overtly pleasant but so, so addictive.
“Kiss me again.”
“You got it, big boy.”
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experimentations ft. the Artpop queen herself
Silly little (not so little) unrelated HC I developed later under the cut
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🎀- HC that EVE's most normal hobby - when not occupied with other things - is repainting dolls
🎀- Like in a blue moon you can catch her at the hobby lobby in mom jeans and a cardigan just looking for materials
★- In her down time (which is a bit rare these days) Nadia'll pick those ball-jointed Barbie/Bratz/MH dolls and give them a complete makeover
☆- While she's making them she's fervently thinking 'I will love you in a way that no one else EVER has' and she treats them all that way
★- She'll repaint them in the most unconventional ways possible but they're still gorgeous; a perfect reflection of her studio artwork on a body that isn't her own
☆- Sometimes if she's low on fabrics, instead of making a full-sized mockup of her exhibition fits she'll use her dolls to test the outfit design and make a mini version of the fit with small pieces of the final material
★- She's got this HUGE shelf on her pad that's got these fashion icon dolls displayed with their name and inspiration on a little plaque
☆- Whenever something significant happens and she doesn't want to paint, she'll hold onto the feeling, good or bad, and jot down an idea for a new doll's look
★- and she DOES truly love each of them - though she may have had to learn to love one in particular
🎀- She picked up the hobby in college (before she met Zuke) but didn't really think anything of it
🌸- It was just a means to practice different makeup looks and pencil techniques without sculpting something - and it was fun! She liked having a cute little gal at the end of the process
🎀- When she came up with the idea of using the dolls as models, she created a doll of herself but made the decision to make its skin completely white
🌸- When Nadia met Zuke, she sort of put the hobby aside to focus on her other art mediums, but she looked at the doll of herself and felt comfortable enough to repaint the right side pink (and she laughed a bit to herself looking at the final result, because it looked... Cute! Just like her other gorgeous dolls...)
🎀- After Rapturica, she didn't feel the need to create a doll based on her feelings as she didn't feel as hurt as she expected, but she did find it really, REALLY hard to look at the doll of herself, so she hid it away...
🎀- she picked up repainting again later but went in HARD - they began to look more artsy and alien, just like her other art pieces
🌸- After graduating she didn't really have time to repaint dolls and focused on creating other arts/music again, only occasionally using them to test outfits (but never the one of herself)
🎀- After the events of NSR though, she picked it up again as a form of self-care. It's something she doesn't have to create for the public eye, and she's rekindled the joy of creating a strange little gal and loving them despite their bizarre quirks.
🌸- ... I think she feels a bit more comfortable looking at the doll of herself now, too.
★- She's probably still got doll repaint videos up on her channel from her college days, hehe.
☆- (She's debating whether or not to make a mini exhibition about the concept of dolls.* Likely not, as she doesn't want to taint the tranquility of the act, but she still likes the idea. It's better to not mix work art with home art, anyway.) (* (How they can reflect their caretaker, they exhibit both confidence and vulnerability, they can be broken and discarded but repaired, they're still images that can be moved in a 3d space however you desire, they rely on a person to actually be 'real' ykyk that kind of thing. the symbolism of dolls.)
The doodle I made in the 3rd picture (above the cut) is inspired by those really pretty doll repaints... I think that that look in particular is one that she tested on a doll first... pre-ugly cry, that is.
Thanks for reading my very silly idea... decorated the bullets with Bows and stars because I felt like it, haha. Have a lovely day~🌸
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