#liv talks about eddie

[ridestomars]

thinking about having a smoke sesh with steve & eddie and how chaotic it would be. i totally see their personalities just switching once they hit that blunt: steve would get extremely unhinged, trying to surf on any flat surface he sees and just singing madonna off-key, attempting to start a sing-along. while eddie would get so hyped about ufo's, talking about every single one of the conspiracy theories that he's heard of (kind of his and it runs on water, man! moment), and of course, trying to start a communist party of hawkins. 

[livwritesstuff]

“Steve,” Eddie mutters, “Stop it, you’re staring.”

Steve is staring, eyes fixed on a family sitting in a cluster of seats two rows ahead of them on the commuter rail — a mom and dad with three kids, the oldest no older than ten, the youngest four or five. They’re not too much older than Steve and Eddie’s own kids (who are seven, five, and two), and by the looks of the princess dresses and mouse ears and branded souvenir bags they’re also on their way home from the afternoon Disney on Ice show at the TD Garden.

“That mom,” Steve says, addressing Eddie even though his gaze doesn’t shift away from the unsuspecting targets of his relentless judginess, “is upset because her kids are whining and misbehaving, but they asked for food and she said no, and they said they were bored and she ignored them.”

In Steve’s defense (not that Eddie would actually say any of this to him; he doesn’t need the egging on), his assessment isn’t exactly incorrect. All three of those kids are either colossally melting down or just on the verge of doing so, and both of their parents are mostly ignoring them.

“God, and they’re gonna grow up learning they can’t rely on their parents for help,” Steve continues, “I just...I just don’t get why we had to go through all those evals and interviews and home visits and shit before we were deemed suitable parents when any idiot straight couple can just have a kid with no regulation whatsoever.”

“Steve,” Eddie says through gritted teeth as he glances at their own daughters to make sure they aren’t eavesdropping (they’re not – Moe and Robbie are sitting by the window and playing with the toys they’d gotten to pick out during intermission, and Hazel is halfway to asleep in Steve’s lap), “My love — little pitchers.”

Steve only shrugs, but he does drop the subject for the rest of the train ride.

The universe must hate Eddie (or love Steve) because that family gets off at the same station as them. Hazel is completely sacked out by then, and Steve had taken her while Eddie manned the older two and they’re busy running ahead of him to the car so there’s literally nothing he can do when Steve detours away from them to follow a few yards behind the other family.

When he finally makes his way back over to them, it’s with a gleeful grin on his face.

“I knew it.” Steve says with a gleeful grin, “I knew they had to be shitty parents.”

Eddie eyebrows flew up, because – seriously, the fucking audacity on this guy.

“You know what I always say – you can either be a good parent or have a clean car, and that car was fucking spotless.”

“Steve Harrington.”

[canongf]

Liv, Liv, Liv. What are your headcanons for Eddie in current times? Cause he’d be in his 50’s right? You’d both still be happily married and he’d still absolutely be in love with you. But any ideas about what he’d be doing? Like hobby or career? Does he still have all his hair? —Nic

@me-myself-and-my-fos - NIC!!! I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED!!!

YES, he would be in his 50s! i headcanon that he was born in october of '66 which would make him 57, almost 58! and YES, he still has all his hair. he refuses to part with it, which i don't blame him for. it's still decently healthy so why not keep it? it just has grey streaks in it now.

his band made it big after he survived the upside down! he was able to graduate and they were able to focus on their music. he got his name cleared of all murder charges but, as it turns out, a metal front man with a suspicious history and gnarly scars that he refuses to explain makes people want to buy your records and show up to your gigs, so they did pretty well for themselves.

so! modern eddie is a rockstar! he's a more mellow rockstar than he was in his 20s and 30s, but still. a rockstar. he and his band still make music. they still tour. but when he's not touring, we're home!

we have kids. i don't know how many, maybe 2 or 3. maybe 5. he always said he wanted a litter of munson babies, so maybe we actually had a litter of munson babies. they all have weird, rock and roll names but they're grown now so they hate us less for them. they've moved away but they visit often.

he is a reflection of his younger self in his interests and hobbies. some things don't change. he is still very weird. he drinks a little less and he doesn't move as fast, but he still loves his horror movies and his fantasy books, he still plays D&D. we still get together with the old crew, Mike and Dustin and Lucas and Erica and Nancy and Robin and Steve. Even El and Will and Jonathan and Argyle.

and you are right!!! we are still very much in love!!!!! :) 🖤

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

older!eddie munson x popstar!reader universe

very short sorry!

Another Hollywood Age Gap Couple?

written by Glamour Team

eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Eddie Munson (46) and Y/N L/N (25) reportedly seen at a New York restaurant, Munson frequents, on what seems to be a date.

Many fans at L/N's closing night report that Munson and his daughter, Isla (14), were seen in the audience. And later after the show, were seen going backstage.

Now with all the logistics out of the way. Our opinion on the couple, with Munon 21 years her senior, we can’t help but worry for Y/N. 

L/N has talked about Munson previously, in 2018, saying she grew up with his music around the house; with L/N’s father being a big fan of his. Speaking of, with L/N’s father only 52 years old, there only being 6 years between Papa L/N and his possible new son-in-law. 

-twitter-

steph

@/I_Said_SpeakNow

Sooo.... Y/N's going through her Dear John era???

Hannah @/CinnamonGirl_hannah replying to @/I_Said_SpeakNow no! Eddie's good, he's like a really good dad!

jen @/Y/N_ismyQueen replying to @/CinnamonGirl_hannah he's like... 46... he could be her dad. it's weird..

liv @/iknowplaces replying to @/I_Said_SpeakNow all i know is we're gonna get a dilf anthem

-instagram-

emails_imglad_shedidntsend

liked by _nonsense89, wheredidyougo_amelie, and others

emails_imglad_shedidntsend: our queen Y/N was spotted with literal rock legend Eddie Munson. I assume they met when Eddie brought his daughter Isla to closing night in NY

DressedlikeAdaydream: who is this man? and what is he doing with my wife?

Y/N_ismywife: your wife? 🤨

Jenna_03: daughter? dilf alert 🚨

Lana_isLife: how old is his daughter??

carmen.13: she's 14 but his son is 20

Lana_isLife: 20? she's only 5 years older than her possible step-son??

-twitter-

brittany

@/brooklynbaby_89

the way he's looking at her? he's good. i can tell.

Lia @/SueMe_Y/N replying to @/brooklynbaby_89 if you go back and watch interviews of eddie from like late 90s and 00s their humour matches so well

Jayden @/mikesmicfan replying to @/SueMe_Y/N what doesn't match is that age gap

Syd @/boy_genius_mywifes replying to @/brooklynbaby_89 i need the dilf anthem. i need the stacys mom reboot. i need them.

~taglist~

@whoscamila @mystargirl-interlude @creoleguurl

[morningberriesao3]

Bully!Scoops!Steve Harrington X Dom!Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve and Eddie don't get along. Never have, never will. One night, after their shifts end at the mall, Eddie finally releases some of that pent up aggression that he's been harbouring for years.

Word Count: 13.6 K

Chapters: 1 of 1

Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… mildly dubious consent, aggression, fight sex, hate sex, spit kink, internalized homophobia and homophobia language, aggression, face-fucking, under-negotiated kink, choking, gagging, car sex (semi-public), dirty talk, degradation, allusions to anal sex, anal play, cum eating, orgasm denial, exhibitionism, voyeurism, light s&m, light dacryphilia

Tags: enemies to lovers (but they’re actually enemies), Steve Harrington’s Scoops Ahoy uniform, Robin Buckley/Eddie Munson friendship, pre-season three, Eddie hates Steve

All characters are—and always will be—18 or older, whether explicitly stated or not

Hate the Way It Feels So Good

Eddie and Steve don’t get along.  

It started as far back as middle school, when cliques started forming and kids started dividing themselves into two very distinct categories: cool, and not cool. They were basically on opposite sides of the spectrum. Natural born enemies.

Steve did things like toss balls into hoops and get sweaty in the gym with a bunch of other dudes, and then corner Eddie at lunch hour and call him the queer. As if he was the one chest to chest with Billy fucking Hargrove an hour earlier, sliding all over him in a tangle of pent-up testosterone.

But no, Eddie was the queer, because he spent his time playing Dungeons and Dragons with his fellow nerds.

At first, it was just another word that got tossed at him. Freak, loser, dork. Queer. At first, Eddie didn’t let it get to him.

Until he was fifteen years old, and he suddenly noticed Trevor Brown’s shoulder muscles underneath his t-shirt. The way they stretched the fabric and made it cling to them like plastic wrap. How the hem of that same shirt rode up above the band of his jeans when he lifted his arms above his head to expose a strip of skin. And how Eddie wanted to run his fingers on it.

The word queer from that day on felt like a bullet flying from a loaded gun.

For three years, Eddie tried to suppress those feelings. He dated Liv from his D&D club for half of that time—thought maybe he could learn to love a girl. To look at her skin the same way he’d looked at Trevor’s all those years ago.

Four months into dating, Eddie and Liv had sex. The whole time, it felt like there was a stone the size of a cherry pit stuck in Eddie’s throat. One that he couldn’t for the life of him swallow down. He didn’t want to look at her. Felt his fingers shaking with something that wasn’t lust as he dug them into her hips. Had to consciously remind himself to keep his eyes on her and not the ceiling, the walls, the pillows. Not to keep them squeezed shut.

He dated her for ten more months after that. They had sex a dozen more times. It never got easier.

Eddie’s friends would talk about their hookups, how good they felt. How they hoped they could do it again. And Eddie just felt nauseous at the thought. He’d make up excuses that he wouldn’t be home, that Wayne would be home, that he was sick, that he had homework, guitar lessons, a family obligation, a job interview. Anything to keep Liv out of his bedroom for as long as possible.

In April of 1984—Eddie’s first time in grade twelve—he decided to break things off. He had to focus on his grades next year, he said, and she was finished with high school, so he really didn’t have the time. All excuses, but she seemed to accept them without pause.

It was about a month after that, that Eddie went to Indianapolis and kissed another man for the first time. Three seconds into it before he realized exactly what his friends had been talking about—his body reacting in a way it never had before. Carnal desire. An urge to go further, to not stop. No cherry pit lodged in his tonsils.

The next months came with a lot of internal loathing. And then experimentation. And then… not quite acceptance. But something close.

It helped that he met band geek Robin Buckley near the end of the school year when they both happened to wander into the practice room one lunch hour. They bonded pretty quickly over music, even though their tastes didn’t intersect that often. But they were both unpopular and quirky and had very little filters, so it was easy enough to form a friendship.

Eddie was able to tell her one summer night as they got high by Lover’s Lake, that he thought he was gay. It only came out when she started blubbering about her crush on Tammy Thompson and then started blubbering harder to try to cover it up.

Needless to say, Eddie and Robin became very close, very fast. She was the only person who knew all of Eddie. And he was the only person who knew all of her.

Eddie was thrilled on Robin’s first day at Scoops Ahoy a year later. The ice cream shop sat directly parallel to Camelot Music where he worked a few hours most days after school, and even longer shifts on the weekends. He knew he’d be able to sit at his register and steal glances of his friend struggling to get through training, and then later, on the slower days, they’d be able to sneak into the hall and cause trouble.

His giddiness was squashed when he saw who the second hire was.

Steve Harrington, standing with his too-big hands on his swimmer’s hips, his eyebrows pinched together above the bridge of his nose, staring down at the buckets of Vanilla-Bean-Caramel and Pineapple-Raspberry ice cream as their boss showed them how to form a proper scoop. Robin stood next to him, looking far less perplexed—and annoyingly calm about having to work next to Eddie’s arch nemesis. Not that she really knew the extent of his hate, beyond the few times he muttered prick under his breath when Steve’s name was mentioned.

“He’s not that bad,” Robin had said when Eddie cornered her after her first shift.

“What do you mean he’s not that bad? He’s a total fuckwad.”

Robin simply shrugged one of her shoulders and said, “I never said he wasn’t.”

Eddie had let it drop that night. But it got harder and harder as time went on.

It was the last day of Steve Harrington’s high school career, 1985, when Eddie took his first swing at that perfect Roman nose of his.

Eddie had been minding his own fucking business in the cafeteria. He can’t remember exactly what had riled him up, but maybe he was being a little flamboyant in a public place. Sometimes he just can’t help himself. But he wasn’t hurting anybody as he scurried around his table and tried to make his friends laugh.

Jason Carver—prick supreme—had something to say about it (as always), flanked by none other than Steve Harrington, who seemed distracted as he zoned off into the distance. “Keep your voice down, freak.”

Sometimes, Eddie had enough control to keep his retorts to himself. But not this day. “You seem to seek me out these days, Carver. I would argue that you like my voice.”

Jason’s nose wrinkled. “You wish, queer.”

Steve seemed to zone back into reality, his eyes narrowing in on Jason and then on Eddie, who twisted his features up into a mockery of a flirtatious smile and said, all too sweetly, “Oh, I do wish. Why don’t you come on over tonight, Jason, and I’ll show you just how much.”

Steve choked on his own saliva then, as if he couldn’t hold back the gag from the thought of someone being gay. Or maybe more specifically, Eddie being gay. Either way, it pissed Eddie off to no end.

“You have an issue, Harrington?”

Steve’s eyes widened, but then he schooled his face back into a mask of nonchalance. “Nope.”

“Really? ‘Cause it seems like you have an issue.” Eddie stepped into Steve’s personal space. Their shoulders brushed against each other. “Maybe you want to come over instead. This queer can show you a great time.”

The look of pure horror on Steve’s face might have been hilarious if Eddie hadn’t been feeling so fired up. “Absolutely not, man. No way.”

“Bit of a bigot, are we, Stevie?” Eddie puffed himself up as big as he could get. His chest bumped into Steve, who took half a step back in shock.

“I didn’t say that,” Steve had said, almost defensively. For a second, Eddie almost thought he would turn around and leave him alone. Until Steve’s eyes found Jason’s, and he tacked on for good measure, “I’m just not like you.”

Eddie saw red. “Like me?”

“Yeah. You know. A fairy—”

Eddie’s fist nearly whistled through the air as he tried to connect it with Steve’s face. Only, Steve’s reflexes were pretty great after all his years training in whichever sports Eddie knew nothing about, so he managed to sidestep the swing. Jason grabbed Eddie’s wrist and laid his own punch against his cheekbone. Eddie landed flat on his ass in front of a growing crowd of school kids who were thrilled about a brawl breaking out.

Five minutes later, Eddie had found himself in the principal’s office, getting reprimanded about how next year would be his last chance to graduate, and how he was ruining his future by getting into fights, and maybe he just needed to go to church over the summer to help find his path in life.

Jason was asked if he was alright and was sent home with a pat on his back.

It has been two weeks since that incident. The cut on Eddie’s cheek from Jason’s knuckles has nearly healed.

He’s currently running his finger over what’s left of the scab, staring through slitted eyes at Harrington desperately trying to flirt with girls, even as he’s dressed in his stupid sailor’s outfit.

Eddie snickers to himself, watching the girls side-eye each other. They giggle condescendingly as they walk away from the ice cream counter. Another fallout.

He notices Robin take out a dry-erase marker to add another tally under the “You Suck” category of the T-chart she made for Steve. At least she’s humbling him, even if she doesn’t agree that he’s the worst person to ever walk the planet.

It’s a Saturday, nearing four o’clock. It’s time for Eddie’s break, and he always stops by Scoops to see if Robin can join him. This has led to way more interactions with Steve than he would ever like to admit, but they’re usually short-lived. Eddie glares at Steve, and Steve stares back at him like he might catch the Freak Disease if he gets too close. It’s a routine.

He hands the keys to his coworker and slowly makes his way across the tiles of the wide mall hallway. Steve sees his approach, and Eddie can see the panic set in. Steve’s puppy eyes go large, and he turns quickly on his heels. He tears the dumb sailor’s hat from his perfectly coiffed hair, saying something unintelligible to Robin.

Her eyes lock on Eddie just as he approaches the register. “Ahoy, Eddie. Are you ready to set sail on this ocean of fla—”

“Can it, Robin,” Steve cuts in from his now lazy stance at the back of the shop. “You don’t need to do the whole spiel to Munson every time he visits you at work.”

“But it’s funny,” she argues. She turns to Eddie. “Don’t you think it’s funny?”

“It’s hilarious,” Eddie says. Any chance to disagree with Harrington. “I would be so disappointed if you were to stop. Please, continue?”

“Are you ready to set sail on this ocean of flavour?” Robin wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at Eddie. “I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Har—”

“I knew it!” Steve whines. “I knew this was a way for you to make fun of me!”

Robin unleashes a vault of snort-laughter that sounds like she’s been holding it in all day. Eddie has to physically contain himself from joining along, especially when he sees how disgruntled Steve looks from the low blow.

“It’s not like I want to say that shit,” Steve continues. “They told me to. I’m just doing my job—I just—It’s just—”

Eddie slaps his hand over his mouth, but he can’t stop himself from giggling alongside Robin. It’s especially ironic that Steve is so pressed about getting made fun of when just two weeks ago, he was joining alongside Jason to do that very thing to Eddie. Call it karma.

“Whatever.” Steve crosses his arms defensively over his chest. “Assholes. Leave me alone. Customers are coming.”

Robin takes her time slipping her hat from her head and placing it on a stool behind her. The group of young women appear in front of Steve, who also abandons his hat. Showing off his hair must be the only chance he has at getting laid anymore.

“Ahoy ladies, I’m St—” Steve’s eyes dart sideways to a snickering Robin, and then at Eddie who can feel one of his brows raised like a dare. Steve clears his throat. “I’m Steve. What can I get for you?”

Eddie scoffs at the same time Robin snorts and says, “See you in an hour, Dingus.”

Steve ignores her.

They leave the ice cream shop and make their way to the Burger King in the opposite corner of the food court. Finally, Eddie feels far away enough to ask, “Dingus?”

“Yeah.” Robin scans the menu behind the counter like she’s not just going to order the chicken sandwich. “He’s totally a dingus. I thought you’d agree on that one.”

“There are a lot of colourful words I’d use to describe Steve Harrington,” Eddie mumbles. “But I guess a dingus is a start.”

“There’s the spirit.” Robin slaps Eddie on the back, totally unaware that he is once again stewing over the jock that makes his life a living hell. “Let me buy you something. Whopper or Nuggets?”

“Nuggets. And fries, because all this talk about Steve is really putting me through it.”

“He’s really not that—”

“Not that bad. I know, you’ve said so a thousand times. But do you see my damn cheek?” Eddie points to the nearly healed wound like Robin hasn’t watched it through the red-to-purple-to-yellow healing phases.

She purses her lips and seems to choose her next words carefully. “Right. Okay. But from what I understand, Steve didn’t punch you. Jason did.”

Eddie stares at her incredulously. “Seriously? You’re gonna get hung up on the details? He called me a—” he lowers his voice to a whisper “—a fairy.”

“I know. And that is seriously not cool. But Jason called you a queer,” Robin retorts, just as quietly. “Fairy is better than the other F word he could have said.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending him.” Eddie points to the cashier who is now waiting to take their order. “I also want a Coke.”

Robin rolls her eyes but buys Eddie his meal, which he thinks is the bare minimum that he deserves after all this emotional distress.

The hour seems to fly by, and Eddie thanks whatever power there might be in the universe that Steve doesn’t get mentioned again. Until the walk back to their respective jobs.

“Oh—I forgot to mention. Steve is taking over the closing shift tonight, so I won’t be catching a ride with you.”

Eddie hovers between Camelot Music and Scoops. “Ugh. It’s so desolate here for closing. You better hope I don’t get murdered walking alone in the parking lot after dark.”

“You’ll be fine.” Robin turns away, heading towards Steve who looks like he’s struggling with a gaggle of children ordering milkshakes and sundaes. Eddie swears he hears her breathe under her breath, “Steve will be here.”

Eddie tries not to let that statement paint his face in a scowl for the rest of his shift, but as he inches closer to the clock chiming 9pm, he feels himself failing. It is way too obvious that, yes, Steve will be there as he closes shop. The rest of the food court close their doors at 8, but for some reason the owner of Scoops thinks that an ice cream shop has to stay open late. Like there are children that will be needing their sugar fix before bedtime.

As if.

There are a few other stores besides Camelot that also close at 9, but they’re located near Entrance C. Meaning, for the last hour of his shift, Eddie is forced to stare at Steve pacing behind the fluorescent lights of his ice cream coolers while he sits and simmers behind his own register.

Every now and then, Eddie swears he can see Steve look over in his direction. But each time he turns his head to catch him and hopefully be able to scream out what the fuck do you want?, Steve’s gaze is back on his Nikes.

It’s a major relief when it’s finally 9, and Eddie can swing the gates closed to the front of Camelot. He decides to take longer than usual to tidy up shop, carefully folding the t-shirt display and making sure to pull stock forward on the shelves so they look full for the morning staff. He cashes out, drops the envelope into the safe in the ground, and wipes off the counter. The lights in the front of Scoops have been off for roughly seven minutes (not that Eddie has been staring at the clock since they went dark), so he figures it’s safe to leave from the back entrance.

The heavy door latches behind him as he steps into the giant parking lot. He’d only been half joking with Robin at the mention of getting murdered. It would be a prime spot for some crimes to be committed after dark like this—only a few vehicles still scattered the pavement, far and few between. His van is the farthest of them all.

Regardless, he sucks in a breath and starts to make his way across the eerily quiet lot. It only takes him a few seconds to get a strange tingling sensation on the back on his neck, like he’s being watched. He opens his ears, realises that he can hear a second set of footsteps beyond his own. And they sound close.

Eddie whirs around with his fingers clenched into fists, ready to strike at—

“Steve?” Eddie huffs a sigh of relief, but then realises he still might be very much in danger of getting his ass kicked. He keeps his hands balled up. “What the fuck, man? Why are you following me?”

Steve isn’t exactly geared up to fight. He’s walking on the other side of the lane, his hands in his pockets. Maybe not relaxed, but a lot more relaxed than Eddie feels.

“I’m not following you. I’m walking to my car.” Steve lifts one of his hands from his pockets to point at the burgundy BMW parked a few dozen feet away from Eddie’s van. “I closed. Didn’t Robin tell you?”

“She did, but you closed up ten minutes before I left. You should be gone.”

Steve shrugs. “I was in the back.”

“Convenient,” Eddie says under his breath, mostly to himself. “Look, man, I’m really not in the mood to get jumped tonight. My face is barely back to normal from the last time.”

“Uhuh. How’s that healing?” Steve’s eyes trail over Eddie’s body, like he’s scanning for damage. Eddie feels himself tense under the scrutiny, wondering why Steve might be sizing him up. What kind of carnage he has in mind. Why it sounds like he’s actually curious about Eddie’s face and not being sarcastic. Impossible. “About what I said—”

“What,” Eddie spits, “that I’m a fairy?”

“Yeah—”

“You know, I find it funny.” Eddie keeps his voice low and menacing, a nod to his DM charade he puts on for Hellfire Club. “You go around calling me a fairy like you aren’t the one who got his ass beat by the quiet, gentle photographer not that long ago.”

Steve’s face twists up in confusion. “Byers?”

“Mhmm. I thought you were supposed to be king. Oh—but wait—that title was recently taken from you, wasn’t it? By… who was it again? Oh, yeah, Billy Hargrove.” Eddie’s teeth ache around the name. If there’s anyone who gives Steve a run for his money being Captain Asshole, it’s Billy. “He’s the one I saw you rolling around with, all sweaty and topless in the gym, isn’t it?”

Steve’s face seems to stain red. “He’s on the basketball team.”

“I don’t know. It all seems a little”—Eddie waggles his fingers—“homoerotic to me. Wouldn’t you agree?”

It seems as if Steve has to physically swallow down his rage. Eddie knows it’s not safe to poke the bear, but he just can’t help how he gets around the guy.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Eddie scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Let me dumb it down a bit for you, Stevie. Put it in terms you understand.” He gets so close to Steve’s face that they almost bump noses. “Queer. It seems queer.”

Steve’s jaw visibly twitches, and Eddie can see that his fingernails are biting into the palm of his hands, much like his own. “I’m not like that.”

“You keep saying that,” Eddie condescends, “but each time it’s feeling more and more like an excuse.”

“Shut up.” Steve’s hands twitch at his sides as if they’re begging to be unleashed in a fit of rage. It should be enough to make Eddie back down.

But his own fists are trembling. And his heart is hammering. And he’s filled with a heat that he needs to let escape.

He takes a step into Steve, who stumbles back to create more space between them. “Is that what this is, Harrington? Some sort of coping mechanism?”

“Shut up.” Steve’s eyes seem tumultuous beneath their hazel irises. His skin is staining red. His jaw looks locked.

Just a few more words.

“Are you…” Eddie makes his voice sound mockingly disappointed. Disgusted. “Are you a fag?”

Steve’s composure snaps.

A fist full of Eddie’s t-shirt is suddenly clenched inside one of Steve’s unforgiving fists, tightening around the base of his neck, pulling him flush into the solid mass of Steve’s chest.

The breath is knocked out of him. His hands instinctually grasp around Steve’s grip as he’s virtually hoisted onto his tiptoes. Even though they’re of similar height, it seems that Steve is staring down the bridge of his nose at Eddie. He can feel hot breath puffing against his lips that smells as if Steve just had a smoke.

Eddie braces himself for impact—his own doing, really. But at least he got a word in edge wise. He knew he’d never be able to beat Steve in a fight.

But Steve just… keeps him there. Menacingly close. Bodies shoved against one another. His eyes bore into Eddie’s threateningly. Eddie feels a rush of endorphins, excited to see what Steve does next.

For what seems like ages, Steve doesn’t make a move. Eddie sees the bob of his throat when he swallows, and the angry glimmer in his eye extinguish. He drops Eddie’s shirt and takes a step back.

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds as he regains his footing. He’s not sure why Steve didn’t take his chance. There’s nobody else in sight. They’re even out of view from the closest road.

And for some reason… he’s disappointed. He knows he doesn’t really want a shiner. But the way Steve was staring at him—is still staring at him—he’s curious what might have come of… whatever just happened.

His body is still twitching with pent up energy, and anger towards Steve for the last years of his life that have been a living hell thanks to him, and Eddie already feels accomplished standing up for himself. So he takes it one step further.

Eddie looks straight into Steve’s eyes, and says, “Pussy.”

And he spits straight onto Steve’s white and red Nikes.

He turns before he knows what Steve’s reaction might be. He feels invigorated, and wildly in danger. And all he needs to do is get to his van, get out of the parking lot and he would feel like he won.

But Eddie barely makes it outside of his van before Steve is bulldozing into him, rougher than before. The metal wall of his van makes a hallow thump as Steve drives him face-first into it, one arm slung around Eddie’s neck in a chokehold, the other locking around his waist and elbows to immobilize him.

“You think you’re gonna spit on me and just walk away, Munson?”

Eddie squirms in Steve’s grip, shivering against the hot feeling of Steve’s breath so close to his ear. The wall of his van is cold as it’s pressed up against his cheek. And for some reason Eddie can’t explain, all he can think about is the press of Steve’s crotch against his ass, driving him forward, his fly dragging across his hip—

No. No.

That’s not what this is.

That’s not even what he wants. Steve is the bane of his existence, not some hot bar hookup in the alleyway.

“Fuck you, man. Get off me!” Eddie struggles against Steve’s grip. It shouldn’t surprise him how strong he is, considering the guy plays sports 24/7, but he’s a little taken aback when he can’t even get Steve to let up by one measly inch.

Steve only presses harder into him. Eddie’s cheek smooshes against the cold side of his van, probably smearing dirt all over his cheek. It’s been ages since he’s washed it. “You’re the one who fucking spat on me, Munson.”

“And I’d do it again,” Eddie growls, twisting his face up into what he hopes is an intimidating smile.

“Bullshit.” Steve ruts against Eddie so hard that his chin hits his van and snaps his jaw shut. But then, just as quickly, he’s free from Steve’s crazy wrestler’s headlock. He twists around as fast as he can manage, only to find that Steve didn’t step too far away. He’s just standing there, cockily, like he doesn’t believe Eddie could harm a single perfect hair on his head. “Do it then.”

Eddie gawks back at him, slightly phased by Steve’s dare. “What?”

“Try it,” he repeats. “See, I think past your hard exterior and don’t-give-two-shits personality, you don’t actually have the balls to pick a fight with anyone, let alone me—”

Eddie feels a fire travelling to his head. It’s uncontrollable. In a normal circumstance, Steve would be right; Eddie would like to remain lowkey, keep himself out of trouble. But he refuses to let Steve Harrington, of all people, bully him into backing down.

So he purses his lips and spits right onto Steve’s, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Eddie can see his saliva caught on the bottom of Steve’s mouth as it hangs open in stunned silence. It travels down his chin, and then across the angle of his jaw. Finally, it drips onto the pavement below their feet.

He knows he’s essentially started a war, so Eddie balls up his fists and waits for Steve’s next move. What he wasn’t expecting, was for Steve’s tongue to flick out and catch the bead of spit that still remained on his pout; and even less, him sucking that lower lip between his teeth to clean it off.

The breath is sucked right out of his lungs as Steve stares straight into his eyes and catches the collar of his shirt in his hand once more. There noses bump against each other. And their foreheads. And their chests.

“You fucking freak,” Steve says lowly. But it’s paired with his thigh shoving between Eddie’s legs hard enough that it makes his balls ache as his driven against the side of his van. He tries to stop it, but his cock twitches, the seam of his jeans rubbing against it in a frustratingly amazing way.

Something about the threat of violence mixed with friction, a body pressed against his own, a low voice growling in his ear, and an objectively attractive man, gets Eddie going. Even though he’s ashamed that he’s getting hot over a guy he was more than thrilled to see beaten to a pulp earlier in the year.

He wiggles against Steve’s thigh. It doesn’t help the throbbing between his legs. “Back away, Harrington.”

“Make me.”

“I swear to God…”

“What? You swear to God, what?”

“You have three fucking seconds, man!” Eddie shouts. What comes after three seconds? He’s not sure. But that’s all Steve has before Eddie does it.

The threat doesn’t help. Steve starts counting down with a sneer on his face. “Three… Two…”

All of Eddie’s pent up rage channels through his fist.

“One!” Eddie finishes, and clips Steve in the jaw with his knuckles. It sends a shock through his wrist, up into his forearm.

There are a few things that go through Eddie’s mind in that moment.

First, he’s wildly proud of physically standing up for himself. It has been years of letting guys like Harrington and Carver and Hagan touch him without repercussion. It’s time he got a real hit in.

Second—even more than being proud—he’s frightened. Because Steve’s gaze is so fiery that he swears he can almost see his eyes starting to glow red.

This brings Eddie to his third and final thought. That he’s about to die. Because Steve is going to fucking kill him. He’s kind of ashamed to admit that his tummy hurts from the nerves of it all.

Steve only stumbles backwards half a step, Eddie’s shirt still balled up in one of his fists, whose legs are still splayed around Harrington’s strong thigh. Steve’s free hand comes up to wipe at his lip, which Eddie now notices has a split in it that is starting to bloom red. They both stare at his skin stained up with blood as he wipes it away.

“You…” Steve starts, his eyes wild as they dart around Eddie’s face. “You made me bleed.”

Eddie swallows down his fear, manages to spit out, quietly, “You deserve it.”

Antagonizing a guy who has thirty pounds on him is probably not the best idea. But he’s already done the worst. Might as well really commit to the schtick.

He holds his breath. Waits for Steve to make the next move, which he assumes will be his own split lip, maybe another bruised cheekbone, maybe a broken nose.

Steve’s thigh presses even harder between his legs. Eddie’s balls throb against the pressure of it, the feeling of his weight bearing down on Steve’s leg, the solidity of his knee. Eddie tries to wiggle his way away from the pain, but it stirs something in the pit of his stomach. The familiar feeling of pleasure, a need for Steve to move against him.

Eddie makes a noise, soft and quiet. It could mean anything, really; that he’s uncomfortable, or scared, or even angry.

Only he knows for sure what it really means.

That he’s turned on. That his cock is twitching as blood starts to rush south.

And that he really needs to get off Steve’s thigh before he sees it. Feels it.

“Steve,” Eddie says desperately, his toes barely scraping the pavement below them. Each time he moves, it makes his dick pulse. He wants to wiggle away, but he knows it will only hinder him. And if Steve finds out that Eddie’s getting hard, he’ll probably be beaten within an inch of his life.

That’s why he’s shocked when Steve rams forward, and aggressively presses his lips onto Eddie’s.

There’s this moment where, rationally, Eddie cannot believe that Steve is kissing him. His mouth is parted in shock, he can feel Steve’s hot breath, his smoky tongue shoving deep into Eddie’s mouth, the distinct flavour of blood—a coppery tang—dancing on his tastebuds. And for a second—purely on instinct—he kisses back. The wet slide of their tongues gliding together, as brief as it is, makes Eddie groan into Steve’s mouth.

But then, reality strikes.

He shoves against Steve’s chest, forcing their faces apart. “What the fuck, man!”

Steve stumbles back, his leg finally dislodging from between Eddie’s. He wipes at the corner of his mouth, maybe to catch the blood, or maybe the spit. He looks wild as he stares into Eddie’s eyes. “What? You gonna hit me?”

Eddie clenches his jaw. His face is burning up. With rage, with desire. The line between the two is starting to blur. “It seems like you’re asking for it.”

“Maybe I am,” Steve says, with a glimmer in his eye that challenges Eddie. Some sort of silent communication. A dare, or… an invitation?

Eddie swallows down the feeling that this must be some sort of joke, that Steve’s trying to catch him in some sort of gay act that he can use as fuel against him to make his life a living hell. But Steve wouldn’t kiss Eddie just to get a reaction from him. He rationally knows that. But still, his eyes scan the parking lot, searching for any signs of Steve’s friends who might be waiting for the opportunity to jump him.

There’s nothing. No one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he makes a fast and impulsive decision, slipping the key into the back door of his van and prying the doors open.

Eddie points inside. “Get the fuck in.”

A few second pass, Eddie nearly drowning in nerves that maybe he’s reading the situation wrong. Maybe this isn’t some kink thing for Steve, maybe the kiss wasn’t a kiss and was… fuck, he doesn’t even know.

But he doesn’t have to worry too long, because Steve—jaw tight—pushes past Eddie, and hauls himself into the back of the van. His head bows under the low ceiling as he circles back, gives Eddie a look somewhere between inquisitive and angry, and then finally sits down on a crumpled blanket. His shoulders rest against the back of the passenger seat, his legs bent and spread in front of him.

Steve reaches down and squeezes between his legs, where Eddie just now notices the distinct outline of his cock, sitting sideways in his little blue shorts against his hip bone. Against his better judgement, his mouth waters.

A large part of him wants to ask Steve what’s going on. What he wants. How far this thing is supposed to go. Whether or not it’s a game.

But the other part of Eddie—albeit, the smaller one—already knows the answers to those questions.

He pulls all of his confidence out of the recesses of his mind, decides then and there that he’s running the show. That Steve likes him running the show.

“Pathetic,” he says, letting all of his malice towards high school jocks, towards Steve, seep into his tone. “You’re getting stiff from a split lip and my spit running down your face.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just fists his fingers into the blanket under his body. He cants his hips forward, as if he’s answering Eddie. Showing him just how hard he really is by displaying the bulge in the front of his shorts.

Eddie holds back the moan that he desperately wants to loose.

He’s seen Steve in a state of undress before. Not completely, but enough to know that the panes of his chest are flat and solid, that his skin always seems sun kissed, even in the winter, that he has a patch of chest hair that he’s started to grow out since quitting the swim team. He’s always noticed the lump in the front of Steve’s Levi’s. Knew that he was packing from that alone.

But now he can see just how big Steve really is as his cock strains beneath his uniform.

Eddie takes a step forward, cocks his head to one side as he sizes Steve up.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” he says.

Another step forward.

Steve’s brows twitch inward, almost apologetically, but he still doesn’t say anything. Just stares up at Eddie with the biggest, roundest hazel eyes he’s ever seen.

Eddie shoves his boot between Steve’s Nikes, uses it to pry Steve’s legs further apart.

A small gasp escapes Steve’s lips as his knees fall open, the hems of his shorts riding up his thighs. Eddie lets himself ogle the strength of Steve’s legs, how the hair that grows on them thins on the soft inner portion, the closer it gets to his crotch.

He plants his boots on either side of Steve’s hips, bends down to grip his fingers in the red bow on the front of Steve’s shirt. “What a fruity little costume. Where’s your hat?”

Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. “Pocket.”

“Put it on.”

Steve lifts his hips, his right hand reaching under him to fish out his uniform’s hat from the back of his shorts. Eddie tries not to tremble as Steve’s crotch gets closer to him. He suppresses the urge to sink down onto it, to feel the outline of Steve’s cock against his ass. To rut against it and listen to the noises he can ring out of Steve.

Steve quietly places the hat on his head, fidgeting with his hair, adjusting the way it sits. Eddie reaches out and smacks away Steve’s hand.

He condescendingly studies Steve, makes sure to really stew in the silence as he trails his eyes over Steve’s appearance, from the dumb hat to the dumb shirt, to the… strangely not dumb shorts. At least, not dumb in the way they fit Steve, the way they look riding up his thighs.

Slowly, Eddie sinks down onto his knees, hovering over Steve’s crotch. Only inches separate them, where Steve is hard and Eddie is now almost just as hard, and for a moment he thinks about how bazaar this all is. But he decides not to focus on that.

“Ahoy,” Eddie says, his voice low and amused as he flicks his fingers over the brim of Steve’s hat. He leans further down, feels the brush of Steve’s upper thighs against the ass of his jeans, hears the way Steve’s breath catches in his throat. He slaps away the dumb hat, watches it fly to the other side of the van. “Never mind. You look better without it.”

Then, he lowers himself the rest of the way, until he’s fully seated in Steve’s lap. Their faces are inches apart. Steve’s eyes are blown and glassy, and Eddie can feel the subtle twitch of his thighs as he presses himself harder onto Steve’s crotch.

“Shit,” Steve breathes. His hands loosen from their balls by his hips, lift up to instead splay on Eddie’s thighs as they clench around Steve.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Eddie laces his fingers through the thick top of Steve’s hair. He can feel the crunch of hairspray as he tugs Steve’s head back, exposing the long column of his throat. The tendons strain as Eddie twists his hand tighter in Steve’s locks, forcing his head sideways. “Seems a little gay to me, Stevie.”

“Shut up—Ah!” Steve cries out as Eddie tugs harder; he can feel the tension of Steve’s scalp as he forces his head so far back that the angle of his jawline is right by his lips.

Since the opportunity presents itself, he leans forward and drags his mouth against the line of Steve’s jaw. Steve smells like the remnants of the expensive cologne that still clings to his neck after his shift, like the cigarette he’d been smoking in the lot, like sweat and man.

It drives Eddie crazy, makes him open his mouth and nip down behind Steve’s ear sharply, then run his tongue over the spot he pinched when Steve whimpers softly at the pain.

“Look at you,” Eddie says lowly, trailing his teeth down Steve’s neck. He can feel his heart beating erratically under his lips as they trace his pulse point, can feel the bob of his throat as Steve swallows his nerves. “So excited to have another man in your lap.”

“I’m not gay.” The denial in Steve’s voice is genuine.

A part of Eddie feels bad, like he should drop it, like he shouldn’t push. But it feels good to make Steve suffer for all the years he said the same things about Eddie. At least this was between them. Eddie hadn’t been so lucky when he’d been called queer in front of the entire school.

So he lifts his head higher, bites on Steve’s lower lip, sucks on the split to force blood back up to the surface. He can tell it hurts as Steve twitches away, but he soon leans into Eddie’s kiss when it softens again, parting his lips to let Eddie lick deep into him mouth.

“No?” he says, pulling back from Steve even though the latter chases his lips with his own. “Then why do you love my tongue so much, hmm?” He grinds his ass against Steve’s straining cock, makes him moan into his face. “Why are you ready to bust from me touching you?”

Steve’s eyes flutter open. He looks conflicted, but past the point of coherency. “I don’t know. I—I don’t know.”

“You want to know what I think?” Eddie doesn’t give Steve a chance to respond, just lowers his face until he can feel the brush of Steve’s ear on his lips. He whispers, “I think you’re the fairy.”

“No!” Steve cries, but his hips grind against Eddie as he chases the friction he craves.

“Oh, baby.” Eddie circles his hips. He can feel the line of Steve’s cock getting caught on the back seam of his jeans each time he moves, Steve’s eyes rolling into the back of his skull like it’s driving him mad. “Then why are you about to take my cock into your mouth?”

Steve’s eyes go wide, and he starts to shake his head, but Eddie is already climbing from Steve’s lap, pulling him by the collar of his shirt onto his hands and knees.

Like a good boy, he stays where Eddie moves him.

“Take this off,” Eddie says with another tug of Steve’s shirt. He untangles his hand from the fabric, leans back to watch as Steve grabs it by the hem and pulls it from his shoulders. Steve’s abs flutter and tighten as he tosses his uniform across the van, and resumes his position on all fours. “Fuck. That’s good.”

Eddie straightens out on his knees. His belt clinks as he undoes the heavy buckle, Steve’s eyes bugging out when he undoes his button and tugs down his fly.

“I’m not—”

“Shut up,” Eddie interrupts.

Steve’s eyes are latched onto Eddie’s cock tenting his boxers, his pink lips pulled between his teeth.

Eddie leans forward, popping his thumb into Steve’s mouth instead.

“Open wide.” He pries Steve’s jaw open with a twist of his fingers. If he’s being honest, he’s not met with much resistance. Steve’s mouth just kind of falls open willingly. “Stick your tongue out.”

A small moan falls from Steve’s throat as his tongue lolls out of his mouth, dripping and pink, pushing on Eddie’s thumb. He runs it against the valley of Steve’s tongue, spreading around the little pool of spit that makes his cock kick under his boxers.

“Now stay still,” Eddie says, bringing his wet thumb to the front of his underwear. He shoves them down, his cock springing free so close to Steve’s face that he has a hard time not immediately ramming forward. He tucks the band under his balls, drawing them tighter against his body, creating a delicious pressure that makes him throb with want.

He wraps his fingers around his shaft, gently. He doesn’t want to work himself up too quickly, wants this thing that’s happening to last as long as it can. He knows his dick is already wet from how much he’s leaking, but he still brings his thumb—covered in Steve’s spit—to circle the slit of his cock.

Steve’s eyes watch, transfixed, as Eddie pulls away—a string of his precum connecting this thumb and the reddened tip of his cock.

“Jesus,” Steve says, his voice full of lust. His sticks his tongue back out before Eddie has to tell him to, a long rope of saliva falling from it onto the van’s floor.

Eddie is so hard that his cock is curving upwards, the veins under his skin so swollen that they seem as if they might burst. It feels like it’s a real possibility.

“How many cocks have you sucked before, Steve?” Eddie asks, carding his hand through Steve’s hair once again. He wraps the tendrils around his fingers, tugs Steve forward.

Steve shakes his head in answer, but he doesn’t close his mouth, doesn’t put is tongue back between his lips.

With his left hand, Eddie guides his dick towards Steve’s face. The tip of it grazes Steve’s forehead, then down the bridge of his nose. Across his cheeks. It leaves a little shining trail in its wake.

“That’s okay.” Eddie rubs his cockhead against the expanse of Steve’s tongue. He rings his fingers around himself, pushes forward until he milks a drop of precum from his slit. He wipes it so it mixes with Steve’s saliva in a little pool in his mouth. “I’ll teach you.”

He sinks forward.

The glide of Steve’s tongue is delicious as Eddie moves against it. There’s not a lot of anything, besides the heat and the wetness, but just the visual of it all really gets Eddie going. Steve’s eyes shine up at him, nearly black, never breaking eye contact even as Eddie watches him with unwavering attention.

“Fuck,” he hisses as Steve moves forward on his own. The tip of his cock glides against the roof of his mouth, inches towards the back of his throat.

Eddie pulls back, and rocks forward. Pulls back and rocks forward. Each time he moves deeper into Steve’s mouth he earns a noise from Steve, a hum or a grunt. Spit starts to leak from the side of Steve’s lips; he tries to pull away from Eddie to wipe at it, but Eddie tugs his head further forward and says, “Leave it. I like it messy. Oh my God, this feels good.”

He grips even tighter at Steve’s hair, pulls his head back before shoving him forward again. This time, he feels his cock hit the back of Steve’s throat. It constricts around him as Steve gags. And it feels fucking incredible.

“Shit, Steve.” He rams his hips forward, his cock spearing into Steve with a force that makes him wretch and spasm, makes his mouth go slippery with saliva. Steve’s eyes start watering—he tries to gasp for air when Eddie pulls back, but he fucks back into Steve’s throat before he can manage. “Your mouth…”

He pitches forward again, as deep as he can go. At this point, Steve is struggling against him, desperate for a breath as Eddie’s dick literally chokes him. He’s trying to tear out of Eddie’s grip, his eyes squeezed shut, but still rimmed in red as they stream tears. But Eddie has a vice grip in Steve’s hair, keeping him stilled as his throat pulses around his dick.

And Eddie knows he should back off and let Steve get some air, he knows he should give Steve’s throat a break from the assault of his cock ramming into it. But Steve’s nose is buried in Eddie’s pubes, his balls are pressed against Steve’s chin that’s sopping wet from how much he’s drooling.

And he likes seeing Steve struggle.

He likes that Steve is trying to escape. That the pleasure has probably toppled into a type of pain for him. He likes seeing how small Steve looks on his hands and knees, likes seeing him cry, likes seeing him break under Eddie’s will. He has the power, whether to let Steve breathe. And he doesn’t want him to.

Eddie ruts forward again, even though there’s nowhere for him to go. Steve’s throat tightens around him even more as he gags aggressively around Eddie’s cock, as he shakes his head back and forth, really grapples against Eddie’s hold.

“That’s it,” Eddie growls, the ball of pleasure coiling tight in his lower abdomen. “That’s it—fucking—swallow—"

Steve’s throat tries, but he’s not thinking clearly. His eyes spring open now, in fear. He hasn’t breathed for probably 45 seconds; his jaw is closing reflexively around Eddie’s dick, his teeth scraping sharply against his swollen shaft.

Eddie kind of likes it.

But as much as Eddie wants to push the boundaries, he finally retreats.

Steve starts hacking up a lung as he bows his head, catches himself on the floor with one hand while the other clutches his chest. He gasps. And then gasps, and gasps, and chokes on his own spit that falls out of his mouth in filthy little rivers.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Eddie says, because he literally cannot help himself when Steve is so wrecked in front of him. But to dilute the sentiment a bit he adds, “At least you’re good for something.”

Steve whimpers as he palms at his crotch. Eddie can see a dark blue patch where his cock has wept through the fabric of his shorts.

“Eddie,” he moans, squeezing at his engorged dick over and over again, chasing his own pleasure as if he’s right on the brink. Just like Eddie is.

So he liked getting his throat fucked.

Eddie feels his balls drawing close to his body just thinking about Steve’s desperation. He wants to touch Steve but he also wants to watch Steve suffer after all the shit he put him through.

“Turn over.” Eddie grabs his cock, strokes it as he watches Steve’s eyes go wide once again, face wet from tears and drool, lips swollen, cheeks red.

“What?”

“Turn the fuck over, dude. Now.” He grabs at Steve’s shoulder and digs his fingers into his flesh as he pulls him sideways.

“I—I don’t want you to fuck me,” Steve says, afraid again. But he follows Eddie’s direction, flipping over in the opposite direction. His slutty little Scoops shorts strain tightly over his ass, makes it look round and definitely fuckable.

As much as Eddie knows he’s already been a lot—would like to continue to be a lot, make Steve squirm and cry and fucking scream—he’s really not that much of an asshole to force himself on Steve when he says no.

But Eddie has no issues with making it seem like he is.

“Do you think I give a fuck?”  he says lowly as he bends forward to press his lips into the shell of Steve’s ear. “Arch your back for me.”

He straightens up, smacks his hand on the curve of Steve’s back, and pushes. Eddie pushed until Steve’s spine is bowed in, his cheek plastered against the blanket on the floor, his ass high and his knees spread. His other hand runs against the jut of Steve’s ass, grips into its flesh so hard that he’ll leave a handprint.

Steve moans unabashedly, his mouth hanging open and his eyes squeezing shut. His hands flounder to grab onto something, eventually stretching straight forward to grip at the base of the passenger’s seat. His hips push into Eddie’s hands like he wants more.

Who is Eddie to say no?

He curls his pointer fingers, tucks them under the waistband of Steve’s shorts. He tugs enough to slip them down a couple of inches on Steve’s hips, but not enough to strip him completely.

“This uniform should never have been approved,” Eddie muses, tugging the shorts down even more. Steve’s ass is halfway nude, Eddie ogling at the seam down his body like it leads to a pot of literal gold. “Why did they make these shorts so tight?”

“Just—just take them off, dude,” Steve pants from where he’s basically buried in the blanket by his head.

Eddie pauses, cocks his head sideways to stare down at Steve. “You’re not exactly in a position to make requests, dude. I’ll do what I want to do.”

A sound of indignity escapes Steve. Maybe a scoff, or a moan, or a whimper. Kind of a mix of all three.

“In fact,” Eddie continues, “maybe I’ll stop here. Maybe your shorts will just stay on the whole time.”

“No,” Steve cries in complaint as Eddie pulls his shorts back up onto his hips.

It’s not a real threat. There’s no way in Hell that Eddie would end this thing without getting a good look at Steve’s cock. He’s heard rumours in the halls of Hawkins High, wants to know if any of them ring true. Although, he can already tell by the thick outline between Steve’s legs that the rumour about Harrington having a massive dick is more than true. Overly true.

There’s a part of Eddie that wishes this wouldn’t be a one-time thing, even though every rational part of his brain is telling him it will be. He wants to find out if any of the other rumours are true too—if Steve really is good with his mouth, if he fucks like a god, if he’s able to go more than one round.

Some things, unfortunately, are bound to stay a mystery.

But for now, Eddie has Steve pliant underneath him, moving where he moves, bending where he bends. He’s going to enjoy it.

He grabs at Steve’s hips, brings them towards where his dick is still hard and wet. The tip of his length runs along the fabric, leaves a little wet trail where Eddie guides it over Steve’s clothed asscheeks, and then the seam down the middle of his shorts. He rams his hips forward, so his cock shoves between Steve’s legs from behind.

Eddie knows his cock is dragging where Steve’s balls are more than likely aching underneath his clothes. He knows he feels it too when Steve groans and shoves his ass even harder into Eddie’s hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Steve rocks forward, slams back once more against Eddie where his dick is nestled between Steve’s spread thighs. “Fuck, yeah, keep doing that.”

Eddie guides Steve’s hips roughly, starts fucking against Steve with intention.

The van rocks each time Eddie’s hips slap into Steve’s cheeks, the windows starting to fog up as they both pant into the stale air. It’s humid and muggy, everything feels sticky and damp, and it’s so incredibly hot. Eddie secretly wants to run his tongue over the panes of Steve’s chest, wants to trail it between the defined lines of his muscles like it’s some sort of maze. He wants to bury his face in the patch of chest hair that Steve has between his pecs, trail his mouth over his nipples, catch the beads of sweat that run into it from his neck.

But all of that is too much. He can’t do that with Steve, hasn’t even done that with anyone. Eddie knows he has to keep things impersonal, but that doesn’t stop his desire from rearing its ugly head.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” Eddie says, pitching his hips so far forward that he can feel the heat of Steve’s erection on the top of his own. His mouth runs away from his as he repeats, “I want to fuck you. Want to watch you take my cock.”

Steve whines, his knuckles going white from how hard they’re gripping the base of the seat in front of him. “No, I don’t—I don’t want that.”

“Yes, you do. You want cock up your ass—admit it. You want my cock up your ass.”

“No. No.” One of Steve’s hands fly backwards, grabs at Eddie’s hips. It holds him painfully close, enough that Eddie can feel the tremor in Steve’s thighs, the pulse of his cock as it sits untouched in his shorts.

“Think about how good it’ll feel, Steve. I bet you fuck yourself with your fingers all the time. I bet you wish it was me.”

Eddie can feel how close he is to coming. Ten seconds is all he has to decide what he wants to do, if he’ll stain up Steve’s pretty uniform and make it unwearable for tomorrow’s shift. It’s a tempting idea. But Eddie wants to feel Steve’s skin against him before he’s spent.

He pulls away from Steve; his cock bucking wildly against his abdomen from the loss of stimulation. It’s red and raw where he was rubbing against the fabric of Steve’s shorts, and Eddie knows it’ll be uncomfortable tomorrow.

No part of him cares.

“Take these off,” Eddie says, but he’s already pulling Steve’s shorts off before the other man can comprehend his words.

The seams pop as Eddie pulls them down Steve’s thighs, down to his knees where they draw close together from the restriction of the fabric. Which just won’t do, really, so Eddie tears them down further, until they’re pulled past Steve’s knee-high socks.

Those are definitely staying on, Eddie decides as he stares down at a completely naked Steve. It’s like something from a porno mag as Steve resumes his position, spreading his knees and arching his back, the slutty little socks the only piece of clothing left on him.

And from this angle, everything is exposed. Eddie’s eyes glue between Steve’s legs where is ass is spread open, his asshole winking up at him, pink and inviting. Lower, where Steve’s balls hang heavily, perfectly groomed. And past that, his prick, so fucking swollen that Eddie is perplexed how he hasn’t nutted ten times over in his own boxers.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, stroking himself a few times because he physically cannot hold back when Steve is so goddamn pornographic. He takes his hand, drops his cock. Instead reaches forward and runs his fingers from the small of Steve’s back, down the seam of his ass. He stops at his hole, presses his thumb there. Feels Steve flutter against the pad of it. “I bet you’re so tight. Closeted guys usually are. Virgins, you know? At least where it counts.”

“I’m not—” Steve starts, but he cuts himself off when Eddie applies pressure to his asshole. He wants to slip his thumb inside, but he won’t do it unless Steve tells him to. “Fuuuccckk!”

Below their knees, an impressive pearl of precum pushes from the tip of Steve’s dick where it hangs between his legs. It reaches the floor before it disconnects from his body. Eddie wants to lick it up.

In fact, he wants to do everything to Steve—for Steve. He’s always been a giver. Loves the weight of a dick on his tongue, loves making a guy lose control and shout his name, loves the way cum shoots into his throat and coats his tongue in hot pools of white. He wants to fuck Steve and have Steve fuck him. Wants to teach him all the different places he can come from.

It’s not just a want anymore, it’s a need. But he won’t do it. At least not this time.

Eddie leans forward, tangles his hand in Steve’s hair for the second time tonight. Hauls him upright long enough that he can whisper into his ear, “I’m gonna fuck you, Steve Harrington. Mark my words. You’ll think about me every goddamn night until your fantasies just won’t cut it anymore. You’ll come crawling on your hands and knees begging for it. You’re gonna beg for my cock, Steve, and when you do, I’m gonna fuck the part of you that still thinks you’re straight right out of that dumb head of yours.”

Steve’s mouth hangs open and he fucking cries into the air, his eyes squeezing shut and his hand reaching for his own dick as it dribbles into the blankets under his knees.

Eddie doesn’t give him a chance to say anything, just shoves him face first into the ground. He gathers all of the moisture in his mouth and spits with perfect precision straight onto Steve’s asshole. The puddle of saliva gathers on the rim of muscle, until it flexes hard enough to force its path down his crack, over his perinium. It reaches his balls, leaves a little shining trail before it dissipates into his skin.

His hips surge forward, pressing the tip of his dick where his thumb had just been. A promise for a later date. But instead of pushing inside, Eddie ruts against the line of Steve’s ass, watching as the pink tip of his cock gathers the wet and slips above Steve’s tailbone.

“Gonna come,” Eddie pants, grasping at Steve’s asscheeks and forcing them closer together so they better hug around the base of his dick. His abs clench, and suddenly he’s seeing stars as he paints the moles on Steve’s back with his load.

His dick visibly pulses in tandem with his heartbeat, the veins protruding even more than before, the colour of it turning so red it borders on purple.

And he shouts so loud that his voice breaks, because he’s coming harder than he ever has in his life. More than he ever has in his life. The cum on Steve’s back gathers in the valley of his spine, all the way down to where Eddie’s dick is still twitching against the small of his back. Some even reached his hair, and Eddie can’t help but be smug that he ruined something Steve’s prides himself on.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie falls back on his knees, his spent cock starting to soften as it hangs above his jeans. He tries to catch his breath, tries to stop the pounding in his ears that he genuinely thinks could make him pass out.

In front of him, Steve whines where he’s been left stranded.

The part of Eddie that cares wants to reach forward, touch Steve, get him off. He’s never left someone hanging before; it’s just not his style.

But this isn’t someone, this is Steve. The guy that made—makes—his life a living hell whenever he’s at school. Sure, it’s gotten better in recent years, but he’s never apologised for actively bullying him. For spending endless hours calling him a loser, and a dork, and a freak. For helping spread rumours that Eddie is gay.

And Eddie is smart enough to know that Steve is probably projecting his fears, blah blah blah. Eddie doesn’t give a fuck about that. All he gives a fuck about is that he has a chance to make Steve feel as forgotten about as Eddie has since he was in goddamn middle school.

So he takes a step back on his knees, starts tucking himself back away in his boxers as Steve cranes his neck to throw him a pleading look.

“Please touch me,” Steve begs. He rights himself so he’s facing Eddie, no longer on his knees. He spreads his legs, grips his cock so hard by the base that it looks like it’s about to pop. “I want you to suck me.”

The way Steve phrases that literally makes Eddie’s mouth water, almost has him bending to get on his knees and take Steve into his mouth.

He could get hard again just by the thought of it.

But he sticks to his guns, zipping up his jeans, doing up his button, languidly sliding the leather of his belt back through the buckle.

“Nah, I’m not feeling up to it,” Eddie says, which is a bold-faced lie, but Steve doesn’t have to know that. He shrugs his shoulders noncommittally as he fishes his smokes from his pocket, places one between his lips. “But I won’t stop you if you want to get yourself off.”

He hopes Steve takes the bait. He wants to watch Steve come, as much as it would still be satisfying to watch him scurry off with the worst case of blue balls he’ll ever have in his life.

Steve gawks at Eddie, his brows pinching above the bridge of his nose, so he gets that signature little crease when he gets all confused. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” Eddie lights up the cigarette and settles his back against the wall of his van like he doesn’t care whether Steve stays or goes.

But damn, he wants him to stay.

Steve’s (insanely) pink lips part. He looks so shattered that he might actually cry, which has Eddie feeling only slightly bad.

Not enough to change his mind, but enough that he’ll point it out.

“Please?” Steve says, voice desperate. “Is that what you want? For me to—to beg?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He wants to see what Steve does without his instruction. Wants to see him humiliate himself without Eddie even having to ask. So he just takes a drag from his smoke and blows it towards Steve’s face.

“Will you—will you please touch me?” Steve pleads quietly. He strokes his cock lightly, not enough to make himself come because he’s obviously still hoping that Eddie will do it for him. “Please? Please, Eddie?”

What a fucking sight to behold, King Steve begging The Freak for whatever he’ll give to him. It almost makes him bend. Probably one more desperate word from Steve’s pretty mouth would convince him.

He almost hopes he’ll be swayed.

“No, Steve,” Eddie still says, his voice only wavering mildly. He hopes Steve didn’t catch it. “See, I think it would be pretty gay of me to get you off, you know? As one straight guy to another, I know you’ll understand.”

It’s a pretty low blow, but Eddie has never been above pettiness.

The apple in Steve’s throat bobs as he thinks through his options, his hand barely slowing from the miniscule touches he grants himself. He eyes the pile of blue clothing in the corner of the van.

Eddie holds his breath, begging the universe to make Steve stay.

“You’re an asshole,” Steve says. But he leans back against the seat, facing Eddie, and he starts touching himself intentionally.

“I learned from the best.” Eddie locks his eyes on Steve’s hand as he strokes his cock. His foreskin doesn’t stretch quite enough to cover the cherry-red tip each time his fingers ring upwards, but it moves with each pump of his hand, helps it glide over his skin. Eddie can’t help but choke out, “Shit.”

Steve’s feet plant themselves firmly on the floor, his hips tilting towards his fist like he’s chasing his own touch. His fingers loosen, reaching down to squeeze at his balls that look like they’re tight, like he’s already on the brink of coming.

“I wish you’d touch me,” Steve says softly, reverently, and Eddie thinks how unfair it is that Steve seems sweet. Like he could be sweet anyway, if he wasn’t such a cunt.

That being said, it’s the final straw for Eddie’s willpower, he can’t not touch Steve anymore. He’s never been a strong man, and it seems he’s found another weakness.

So Eddie snaps, he’s unable to stop himself from crawling towards Steve, whose eyes go wide with gratification and lust, like all his prayers have been answered.

Without a word, Eddie runs his hands over Steve’s fuzzy thighs gently, revels in how soft his skin feels, how pliant it is under his fingertips. It gets even softer as he slips his palms behinds Steve’s knees. They seem to unfurl, as if Steve is inviting Eddie to hook his arms beneath them.

So that’s exactly what he does.

Eddie hauls Steve up with all his strength. And Steve uses his own muscle as well, his abs going taut as he flings his legs over Eddie’s shoulders.

It might be the hottest thing Eddie has ever seen before—Steve’s stomach creasing as he pushes forwards, forwards, forwards until Steve’s nearly bent in half. And the sounds he’s making—these pathetic little mewls—are nearly fucking unfathomable, his hand slapping wetly against his flesh as he fucks himself raw, fast, hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come—” Steve’s mouth falls opens in a silent scream, his thighs tremoring under Eddie’s grip.

Eddie reaches forward at the very last moment, squeezes his hand around Steve’s cock right as he starts to cry out. It’s hot and thick in his hands. Smooth. Hard as fucking steel, but Eddie still rings his fingers so tight that the red crown squishes slightly under the pressure.

He stores away all of that information for later, knows already that he’ll make himself come to the memory of Steve’s cock in his hand, the face Steve makes when he tumbles over the ledge, the way his cum shoots with each wave of his orgasm.

With Steve’s gaping mouth, and his body bent in on itself, Eddie takes the opportunity to aim Steve’s cock towards his parted lips. They’re really only a few inches apart, considering the compromising position Steve is in. The opportunity presents itself on a silver platter, and it seems rude if Eddie just passes it up.

So Eddie aims it towards Steve’s lips as they fall open in pleasure, and he forces him to come onto his own tongue.

It’s probably the most erotic thing Eddie has ever seen; Steve’s cum paints his lips in white, his lungs heave, his voice escapes in tiny little ah, ah, ah’s each time Eddie’s fist pumps out another rope, and another, and another. Eddie can feel Steve’s dick pulsating as hard as his own did earlier. He can tell that he probably came as hard, too, by the amount of cum that fills his mouth.

Shit, Steve barely seems conscious of that fact. His irises have disappeared into his skull like he needs a goddamn exorcism. But he’s shaking like he’s currently getting one.

Undoubtedly, Eddie is rock solid again in the confines of his jeans, battling more fantasies about sticking his cock inside Steve before he has the chance to come down from his high, making him scream as he pounds his prostate and uses his cum to jerk his overly sensitive dick until it gets hard again.

It’s a very vivid image in Eddie’s mind. So much so that he has to drop Steve’s knees immediately or he’s just gonna… do it.

Steve gasps as his lower body hits the floor, watching confusedly as Eddie scurries back to the farthest corner. The spark of recognition flashes in his eyes, and Eddie can tell that Steve is now gaining some clarity, that he’s realising he, A: let Eddie touch his dick, B: just lost his goddamn composure enough that he was whimpering and shit, and C (Eddie’s favourite): has a mouthful of his own jizz.

It would normally be hilarious when Steve frantically sits up, swallows his cum (much to Eddie’s surprise), and starts grappling to find his discarded uniform that’s strewn in every corner of the van. Only, Eddie is dealing with his own revelations of, well, very similar things. Like… He just touched Steve’s dick. He made Steve whimper and shit. And, yes, he made Steve cum in his own mouth.

Everything is already a fever dream. There is no way. There is just… no way.

Eddie hauls his knees closer to his chest, makes sure Steve can’t see that he’s hard again. Suddenly, it feels pathetic, now that the heat of the moment has simmered back into something… cold. Whatever it was before.

Only now there will be this knowing between them. A shared memory of… of… this. Touching, and begging, and talking. The things Eddie said to Steve like he’s a guy that says stuff like that. It’s mortifying.

Eddie’s hands tremble as he reaches for the cigarette that was dropped on the floor. It burnt a hole in his blanket, but whatever, there’s a million more where that came from. And he lights it back up to hopefully stop the panic that’s starting to settle in.

Steve has already pulled on his boxers and his shorts, that have suspicious little trails of sticky stains. Eddie can’t look, so he focuses on the wall in front of him, and hopes Steve doesn’t notice the tremble in his fingers.

“Can you hurry up, dude?” Eddie says, because he needs to stick his head between his knees before he passes out.

Are things gonna be better at school next year because if this? Or worse? The same?

He can’t imagine that Steve would sick Jason on him now that he’s graduated. But there’s more impossible things that have happened in this world. Like, for instance, what just happened between them.

Steve knows Eddie’s for sure gay. But by basically fucking him, which should be a comfort to Eddie. Still, he’s worried Steve will somehow manipulate it into something bad, like he’s some sort of homo predator. Will he tell his friends, who will tell the whole school? Will Eddie’s life be miserable next year as he repeats his third time being a senior while Steve isn’t around to reap any of the consequences?

Steve pulls his head through his shirt, his hair sticking out in all different directions. Eddie swears there’s still cum on the side of his lips, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

“I’m—I’m going.”

“Go faster.”

Steve tumbles forward, trips over the balled-up blanket as he reaches for the back doors, his top still scrunched to expose a strip of his lower abdomen. But he makes it, flings open the van and flies forward, his face nearly kissing the pavement.

The cool air hits Eddie like a brick wall, but a welcome one. It reminds him that he’s a human and not just some buzzing ball of anxiety. So he leans towards it, takes a deep breath, opens his eyes.

That’s when he notices that Steve has turned around, that he’s stalling. He nervously fidgets with the red tie on his top, stares at Eddie like he wants to say something.

And for a minute, Eddie thinks he will. His lips open, and then close. And then open again. He gets that crease above the bridge of his nose. He cards his hand through the top of his hair that’s sweaty and sticky, and Eddie can tell he realises that as his face scrunches up a bit.

But he doesn’t. At least, not what he was going to say. His jaw just sets in the tense way it had been at the beginning of the night, and he says, “See ya.”

Turns towards his BMW.

Eddie doesn’t stay to gawk. As soon as Steve starts walking away, Eddie slams the back doors and scrambles to the driver’s seat. He doesn’t waist time starting his van, tires squealing as he pushes the clutch to its limit to make it shoot forward.

And once he’s back at the trailer and settled into bed, he pretends he doesn’t come three more times that night to the thought of Steve’s O-face.

***

“Can you please just give it to Steve,” Eddie begs for the hundredth time. Eddie’s throat closes up over Steve’s name, makes it sound thick as he speaks it. But he doesn’t really care. He’s too tired to care, and definitely too tired for this conversation.

Sleep had come so sporadically last night that Eddie almost called off work. But he needs the money, and needs even more to not look like a pussy who’s avoiding Steve after last night.

“I just don’t understand why you have Steve’s Scoops hat.” Robin quirks her brow, stares at where Eddie is extending the piece of Steve’s uniform that had been forgotten in the back of his van last night. It was comforting, in a way, to have physical proof that he hadn’t just completely lost his mind and made the whole thing up.

“I told you, I found it in the parking lot.”

“How do you know it’s Steve’s?” Robin presses.

“Because, it… it was near where he parked his car.”

“How do you know where he parked his car?”

“I saw him drive away last night.”

“But you didn’t see him drop the hat?”

“I wasn’t staring at Steve,” Eddie says with a scoff. Which is absolutely a blatant lie. He had done a lot of staring. “Why would I see him drop the goddamn hat?”

Robin picks at her fries. Eddie had purchased her food on break today, mostly because he didn’t have the energy to argue. And he also thought it might make her behave.

Neither of those things had worked out.

“I just think it’s weird.”

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “What’s weird, Rob?”

“It’s just… Steve has this cut on his lip, and a bruise.”

Eddie’s heart picks up in his chest.

Oh, shit.

“And?” he asks, dropping his eyes to focus on his now fidgeting fingers.

“And he said he got it from Jason last night. That they got into a spat.”

Eddie’s heart slows down the tiniest bit. Okay. That’s… yeah. He can work with that. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“He said that Jason met up with him after work. In the parking lot.” Robin’s eyes narrows and they zero in on Eddie. “After he saw you drive away.”

Eddie’s world stops spinning for a split second, realising he got caught in the lie. Of course Steve would have his own story. Of course it wouldn’t align with his own.

But, he knew even though Robin knew he was lying, she wouldn’t know why he was lying. I fucked Steve Harrington last night, is not something she’d expect. At least there’s that.

“I—I guess Steve didn’t actually drive away last night. I don’t really remember, maybe his car was still there. I just found his hat—”

“But didn’t give it to him? If he was still there?”

“I hate the guy,” Eddie says. It’s not a lie. Not really. “Why would I give it to him?”

Robin shoves a handful of fries into her mouth, chews thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But why would you even care enough to pick up his hat, in that case?”

Eddie can feel his face getting red. Can see that Robin notices it too, as she judges him silently from under her lashes. “Why are you pressing me about this?”

She shrugs, takes a sip of her Coke now. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

The clock strikes five. That’s their cue to pack up and head back to their jobs. The legs of the chairs squeak as they push them back into the table.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Eddie asks, tossing out their trays full of garbage.

They head towards Scoops and Camelot Music. Eddie makes sure to stay far on his side of the hall, so he doesn’t have to face Steve.

“I just want to make sure nothing happened between you and Steve last night that you’re not telling me about.”

Eddie nearly chokes on his soda, can feel it bubbling up his throat and nearly out of his nose. He doesn’t catch his breath until they’re nearly standing in front of Camelot, Robin staring at him with concern, but also with this unsettling sense of knowing.

“What do you think happened?” Eddie’s voice comes out raw after he hacked up a lung. He goes with this question, because he figures it’s better than digging himself into a deeper hole.

“I’m not sure,” Robin says, poking at the hat in Eddie’s pocket. She turns towards Scoops without taking it, leaving Eddie with a literal white flag hanging from the back of his jeans. “But I hope it was nothing bad.”

She glares at Eddie, turns her sights towards Steve instead. He’s standing there in a freshly washed uniform. Hair perfect, because there’s no hat to squash it down. He’s staring at Eddie and Robin, but as soon as Eddie catches him, he straightens up and looks towards the buckets of ice cream instead.

“Why?”

“Because—” Robin places her hat on her head. Hikes up her own socks that slipped down her calves “—he asked if he could take my closing shift again tonight.”

Eddie’s face ignites, his eyes flying towards Steve accusingly. Eddie can tell he’s a few shades redder than normal as he twiddles his thumbs behind the counter, pointedly not looking in Eddie’s direction. Like he knows exactly what beans Robin just spilled.

“Fuck,” Eddie cries quietly to himself. He grabs the hat again, one last attempt to hand it to Rob. “Please—just—give this back to him.”

Robin purses her lips, takes a few steps away. “Give it to him yourself, tonight after work. You guys need to work through whatever hatred you have for each other. I’m not gonna be the middleman anymore.”

Eddie’s hand hangs limp between them as Robin turns away.

But she casts Eddie one more look before joining a blushing Steve behind the counter. “Just don’t leave any more marks on Steve. He’s really not that great of a fighter.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything more. Just watches as Robin walks back to the ice cream stand.

Before he looks away, Steve’s eyes lift from his feet. They meet with Eddie’s, and they’re filled with a certain type on intention.

Eddie knows in that moment that Robin will be disappointed tomorrow, when Steve shows up to his shift covered in bruises.

Masterlist

Socials

[thesupreme316]

I was meant to send this earlier but I’m just now getting to it.

AEW stars of your choice reacting to the fem!reader having her/a wrestlermaiea moment, like winning a title or ended a rivalry.

AEW Stars React to: Your Wrestlemania Moment

Pairings: Eddie Kingston X Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Ricky Starks X Fem!Reader, Daniel Garcia X Fem! Reader, Mark Briscoe X Fem!Reader (Platonic), Jeff Hardy x Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Hook X Fem!Reader, Dante Martin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Supreme Speaks: Thank you to @hookerforhook for requesting and supporting me. I apologize for being off the radar as shit as been hitting the fan in my life. I will upload more posts this week. But as always, my inbox and requests is open for everyone. P.S you are loved and greatly appreciated.

Warnings: None really....i think, gifs are not mine, I repeat: gifs are NOT mine

Taglist: @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Backstory

Winning the Title:

You won the Royal Rumble and had a first-class ticket to Wrestlemania

Where, also, you had the opportunity to the main event with Becky (Or Charlotte or whoever else you want)

After a feud that has been brewing for a couple of months, it all came down to this

You were gonna walk in as the challenger and walk out as the champion

And you did exactly that

All while giving the crowd and fans around the world memorable moments and five-star moves

After 15 minutes, the bell rung and all was said and done as you held the championship over your head

You celebrated with those at ringside (family, friends, fans) before blowing a kiss to the camera

But most importantly to the person who has always supported you, no matter where he is

Ending a Rivalry:

You have been in a rivalry with Liv Morgan (or someone else)

At first, you two were running the division as a tag team before being split up due to comparisons and underlying tensions

After months and months of scathing promos, vicious attacks, and iconic moments

You two were set to wrestle in a No Holds Barred match at Wrestlemania

Even though y’all weren’t the main event, ya’ll stole the show

With moments that involved blood (if you wish), ladders, kendo sticks, and breaking tables

In the end, you were the only one standing with your hand raised as the winner

You helped Liv up before hugging in the middle of the ring

Eddie Kingston

This man would be screaming “I told you so” to everyone and their mommas

Blows up your phone with spam of “You did good! I guess” “Drag her!” “Dawg you suck lol jk” “I’m proud”

You know how Eddie just randomly posts stuff? He’ll just post a pic of you at Wrestlemania followed by memes or old Japanese Wrestling

Eddie would try his best to promote your win to everyone in his line of sight

Cuts a promo and ends with “Also, congrats to Y/N! Hella proud of you skunk”

I also have a feeling that because Eddie is close with you, he would take this win for you a little more personally than how people would expect

He’s happy that you’re experiencing something that he has yet to have

Ricky Starks

MANS IS HELLA PROUD

Wishes he was there ringside, but Ricky sends his support from afar

Make three separate Instagram posts and five tweets about you, all talking about how you’re amazing (and how you’ll meet stroke daddy later)

“LOOK AT MY BABY WITH THE W”

Makes all of his friends congratulate you with posts and comments (will literally take their phones and do it for them if they don’t)

Refers to you in promos to make his opponents (especially ex-WWE) jealous

“Well, unlike you, my girlfriend was actually able to have her Mania moment”

Spoils with presents (wink wink) you as soon as you guys are reunited

Daniel Garcia

THIS MAN IS A MENACE WITH YOUR WIN

“Your win is my win right? So technically I won at Wrestlemania too?” “No.”

Makes your win his Twitter header (don’t matter if you’re together or not)

Will brag on Isiah’s vlogs and to the JAS

Will taunt people like “Did your girlfriend win at Wrestlemania? No, didn’t think so”

Like Ricky, he will post you on his Instagram and Twitter with simple or funny captions

Would genuinely be proud of you and all of your accomplishments;

And would definitely make your Wrestlemania picture/outfit his Home Screen

Mark Briscoe (My twin flame)

HOMEBOY FUNNY AS FUCK

Would definitely tell you that he saw it coming “I CALLED IT!”

Would send you some flowers that remind him of you and tells you that you did a good job

Mark will ramble on and on about your match to Penta and Fenix

Will turn a promo into being about your win

Will compare your victory to an animated movie where the hero wins all the time

“You know like that one film?” “Cars?” “No…Up! That’s what it called”

Although he hasn’t made it to WWE yet, he is extremely proud of you and will defend your victory till the very end

Jeff Hardy

THIS MAN IS BEYOND EXCITED

As a man who has had his Wrestlemania moment; he’s happy that he had yours sooner rather than later

Will recount his own Wrestlemania moments and reminisce as he looks at your bright smile

Jeff would be the one who dedicates his next gear and facepaint to your Wrestlemania gear

Gives you a spill (speech) about living up to standards and upstaging yourself on future occasions

“And if you don’t feel confident…just jump off the ladder, the floor will catch you”

I want to say that in future matches he would use your signature move or like a common move that you use

Jeff is so damn sweet and will continuously support your accomplishments

Dante Martin

This man is a cutie patootie

Darius would definitely post Dante’s reaction (involves him jumping up and down and screaming at the screen)

Would FaceTime you and just listen to you talk about the entire thing from your perspective

Would call/text you “I’m so proud of you baby”

Cites you (and this specific moment) as his inspiration for future interviews

Would have flowers delivered to you with a little note attached

Hook:

His silent celebrations speak volumes

Would definitely take you out to show how proud he is

I feel like that Hook would be the type to like a post about your victory/moment

But what would really solidify your relationship would be that he posted you on his story with a black heart

That’s also how he confirms your relationship

The wrestling world goes wild as he also wears a hoodie of your merch or posts a picture of ya’ll kissing

Like Dante would also have flowers delivered to you, idc what you say

"I love you and I'm so proud of you"

[uncpanda]

Blood is Thicker than Water: Chapter 20

AN: Not going to lie. I STRUGGLE writing wedding scenes. However, I really love how this chapter turned out. Instead of dragging it out, we get snippets. I love that about this. Please leave feedback.

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Master List

Guest List: 

“Four hundred and thirty-six people.” 

Rafa stares at you. He’s been sipping from that cup of coffee for over two minutes now. You lean forward and say it again, “Four hundred and thirty-six people.” 

He finally puts the cup down, “I really don’t see the problem.” 

You scream in frustration and stomp right out of the apartment. 

The moment the door closes Rafael looks at Benny and asks, “She realizes I have a big family right?” 

Wedding Party: 

“So that gives me Rita as my best woman, and Ed and Eddie as groomsmen.” 

“And I have Liv as my maid of honor.” 

Rafa stares at you, “That means the sides are uneven.” 

“So?” 

“They can’t be uneven.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “Why not?” 

“It won’t look right.” 

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.” 

Your fiance sighs, “What about your friends from college?” 

“Most of them are already married and have kids. Plus they live in different states. That’s not fair to ask them.” 

“Friends from childhood?” 

“I hung out with Elliot’s kids. I haven’t talked to them in years, andI don’t really have a desire to do so now.” 

“So this is just how it is.” 

“Unless you want me to ask your mother?” 

“Nope. We’re good.” 

The Venue: 

“What do you think?” 

You look around at the garden. It is perfect for a springtime wedding. Even without the flowers in bloom, it’s gorgeous. 

You look over at Rafa, his smile is stretched across his face. He’s done good. Amazing really. There’s just one problem. 

“It’s not going to fit four hundred thirty-six people.” 

Your fiance scowls, “We can figure it out. Some people can stand.” 

You cross your arms, and lean forward, “That’s against the fire code counselor.” you point towards the plaque that reads a max of 300. 

He throws his hands up in frustration, and finally says the words you’ve been waiting to hear, “Fine! I’ll make cuts.” 

Ring Bearer: 

“He needs a part in the wedding!” 

“I’m not disagreeing with you.” 

“You said no.” 

“I said no, because I already told my sister Noah could do it, and he’s our nephew.” 

“Well of course Noah is a ring bearer, I’m just saying Benny could be one too!” 

  “There’s also the fact that your grandmother might pass out if she sees a dog in the processional. We’re already not getting married in the neighborhood church. She nearly cried when we told her that.” 

“She loves Benny!” 

“I know, that’s why he can come to the reception and take pictures with us. I already talked to the venue and our dog walker.” 

“Oh. Well, okay then.” 

Shopping: 

“So how did you manage to convince mama Barba and Abuelita and the rest of his relatives not to come today?” 

You take a sip of the champagne in your hand, “I told them the truth. This is a you and me thing. No one else allowed.” 

Liv smiles, “Well, it means a lot that it’s just us.”

“What do you think of these?” 

You and Liv turn together and watch as Ed and Noah come out together. They’re dressed in matching tuxes. You and Liv melt. Noah is absolutely adorable, and Ed actually cleans up pretty good. While Rita is Rafa’s best woman, Ed and Eddie are his groomsmen, and Noah is the ring bearer. 

After you’re all done cooing at Noah, Rafael finally steps out of the dressing room. He looks drop dead handsome in his tux. You feel your eyes go wide, and then he gets a little smirk on his face. You know you’re not living this moment down. 

Music: 

You stare at Rafa. He’s trying not to laugh. You can’t blame him. “She’s going to kill us.” 

You smile, “This song comes from the first movie we ever watched together.” 

“We’ve already found a way to work quotes into the wedding. If you walk down the aisle to this song, your sister might just kill us.” 

You shake your head, a serious look coming over your face, “No she won’t. She knows why I love this movie, why I love the book.” 

Rafa looks serious now too, “I think it’s perfect.” 

Dress shopping: 

“No,no, no, no, no! What did I tell you about off the rack? I said absolutely not! Where is your manager? I helped him evade a racketeering charge, he owes me!” 

You sip on champagne and look at your sister. She has that look on her face, “At least it wasn’t a murder or rape charge.” 

She nods in agreement before asking, “How did Rita end up on this chopping trip again?” 

“This is apparently the best wedding dress shop around. She knows the owner . . . apparently rather well. She’s trying to help.” 

A second later a terrified manager and a ranting Rita pass you by.

You both watch them go. You’re happy to say you don’t find your dress in that store. 

Dress Shopping Part 2: 

The day you find your wedding dress, you’re not expecting it. You’re less than five months away from the wedding, and you’re panicking a little bit. You KNOW it takes time to order a dress. Rita’s told you about it five million times. 

You’re walking Benny when you see it. A small bridal shop, with a pretty dress in the window. You stare at it for several seconds before you call your sister. She answers on the first ring, “This better be an emergency. I’m in the middle of a case.” 

“I think I might have found my wedding dress.” 

There’s a moment of silence, “What’s the address, I’ll be there ASAP.” 

You rattle it out just as an employee sticks her head out, “Hi there. Would you like to come in?” 

You look down at Benny and she smiles, “He’s welcome to come in too. I love dogs!” You go in.

By the time Liv arrives, Benny is on his back getting belly scratches from the staff while you’re in the dressing room being fitted into your dream dress. 

Liv stares at your goofy, three legged dog for a second before she calls out your name. You step out a second later. 

You watch her eyes go wide, as she studies you for a second, “That’s it.” 

You nod, “Yeah.” There are no tears. It’s just a comfortable feeling. This is your wedding dress. 

The Night Before: 

The night before your wedding is spent at Liv’s apartment. Ed and Noah head over to your place to spend time with Rafa and Eddie. It’s just the two of you. You put on face masks, paint your nails, and watch Disney movies. It reminds you of one of the best parts of your childhood.

It’s as you’re sitting on the couch that Liv says, “I’m so happy for you. You know that right?” 

You smile, “I know.” 

“He’s a good man.” 

“The best in my opinion, though Ed gives him a run for his money.” 

She smiles at that, “I truly think, you’re going to be really happy together.” 

“I know so.” 

With that, she pulls you in for a hug. 

Right Before the Wedding: 

You don’t actually feel nervous until about half an hour before the wedding. Your makeup and hair is done. You probably should have been in your dress by now, but you’re still in your getting ready outfit. Things are a bit behind schedule. Noah had a melt down, your sister has cried no less than three times, and Abuelita and Lucia have been bickering with each other. You haven’t seen Rafa. You’re not sure why you’re sticking to this stupid tradition, but you are. 

You’re watching the chaos with an observant eye when someone taps you on the shoulder. You spin around to see your sister standing there. She tosses her head to the side and you follow her outside. The sun is shining and the March air is only a little chilly. You close your eyes and allow yourself a minute. When you open your eyes, you see Liv smiling at you. 

“What?” 

“It’s just crazy. How Lewis,” 

“May he rot in hell,” 

“Lead to all of this. You moving back and meeting Rafael. Me and Ed connecting, getting married, and having Noah. We’re getting those happy endings we dreamed of as kids.” 

You hug yourself and look at the ground for a little bit before you look up, “Did I ever say thank you?” 

“For what?” 

“For raising me and loving me when you didn’t have to?” 

Your sister hugs you, “You never have to thank me for that. You are one of the best joys of my life.” You smile at that. 

Walking Down the Aisle: 

You’re nervous, but you’re allowed to be. You’re in your dress, your veil is attached, and everyone has walked down the aisle except you and Liv. You look at your sister. She’s dressed in a black dress. She has once again avoided color. 

She holds out her arm to you, and you take it. You close your eyes, and you count to three. The music starts: the instrumental Dawn from Pride and Prejudice; the first movie you and Rafa watched together. The movie you two still watch together.

You start to walk. It’s slow, and thanks to the three hundred and twenty three people (Rafa was able to cut it down) you can’t see Rafael yet. You do, however, see Uncle Don, and Finn, and Munch. You smile at them. 

And then you turn the corner of people, and you see him. Rafael is standing there. He’s dressed in his tux. His hair is perfectly styled. His eyes are focused solely on you as though you’re the only thing he sees. You feel yourself start to speed up, but your sister grounds you like she always does. 

When you finally reach him, you feel your breath leave your chest. And as you take his hand, everything else fades away. It’s just you and him. Just like it’s supposed to be. 

[plentyoffandoms]

Kinktober 2023

Some of the rules I have in place.

Please be over the age of 18 when requesting.

I will only do a prompt once. If one has been taken, I will message you asking to pick another one. (If you do not request anonymous).

If you do request under anonymous & the number has already been taken. I will make a post saying it has been taken. Please feel free to make another request.

I am doing this for wrestlers x reader. Doesn't matter how. M x f. M x m. F x f, etc. Please just let me know .

I also do the community labels as my stuff has been reported in the past for not using them, so please make sure your settings are set up to see MATURE stuff.

Please send any requests to ASK.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this.

If a number has been taken and you would still like a request done, please just send it as a normal ASK & I will do it, just not for Kinktober

The length of said story will be determined by me.

There is no kink shaming here. If you do not like a story, then move on. This is somebody's request.

Please pick one

These are the Prompts that have already been claimed & for which wrestler.

Day 1: Dirty Talk - Nick Jackson x f/Reader (anonymous)

Day 2: Floor Sex - Ethan Page (anonymous)

Day 3: Anal - Chuck Taylor x f/reader (@legit9thlunaticwarrior)

Day 4: Missionary - Matt Jackson x f/reader (anonymous)

Day 5: Breeding - Matt Jackson x f/Reader (anonymous)

Day 6: Morning Sex - Christian Cage x f/Reader (anonymous)

Day 7: Sex Toys - Liv Morgan x f/Reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 8: Creampie - Eddie Kingston x f/Reader (anonymous)

Day 9: Double Penetration - Cash Wheeler x f/reader (@legit9thlunaticwarrior)

Day 10: Drunk Sex - Kenny Omega x f/Reader x Wardlow (@nicoleveno14)

Day 11: Erotic Photos - Darius Martin x f/Reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 12: Hate/Angry Sex - Angelo Parker (anonymous)

Day 13: Dry Humping- Charlie Dempsey x f/Reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 14: Fisting - Wardlow x trans f/Reader (anonymous)

Day 15: Group Sex - The Youngbucks, more Matt and Adam x f/Reader (anonymous)

Day 16: Bath/Shower Sex- Hook x f/Reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 17: Licking - Charlie Dempsey x f/reader @hooks-martin

Day 18: Lingerie - Lucien Price x f/Reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 19: Masturbation with Daniel Garcia x f/Reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 20: Dirty Dancing - Daniel Garcia x f/Reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 21: Praise Kink - Trent Beretta x f/Reader (@legit9thlunaticwarrior)

Day 22: Phone Sex - Will Osprey x f/Reader (anonymous)

Day 23: Orgasm Denial with Dakota x dom f/reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 24: Outdoor Sex - Adam Page x f/Reader (anonymous)

Day 25: Petplay - Wheeler Yuta x f/Reader (@legit9thlunaticwarrior)

Day 26: Sexting - smug/arrogant - Adam Cole x f/reader about what he knows he can do to her (anonymous)

Day 28: Strap-On - Dakota Kai x f/reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 29: Body worship with darius martin x dom f/reader (@hooks-martin)

Day 30: Public Sex - Evil Uno x Ambiguous Reader (@ijustthinkevilunoisneat)

Day 31: Free Choice - Darius Martin x f/Reader (@hooks-martin)

[a-strange-inkling]

I love the idea of Maggie being a rebel like her father as a teen and I love how Eddie knows all her tricks. How does Chrissy deal with her daughter’s schenanigans?

She worries about her all the time, she tries to be patient and give her the benefit of the doubt, but Maggie’s pretty wild and rebellious so it can be difficult sometimes. She always gives Eddie a tired sigh eye after a melodramatic tantrum.

“Why am I getting that look?”

“You had to be difficult for Wayne.”

“Hey! You knew the risks!!”

Snippet:

“Mom, I’m begging you please, please,” Maggie cries half prostrate over the counter, hands folded tight as she pleads. “Everyone else is going to be there and it’s one weekend!”

Chrissy sighs softly as she continues to scrub the dishes in more earnest, her legendary patience all but drained out. “Maggie, I’ve provided my reasons multiple times, the answer is no.”

“But whhhhyyyyy!?” she asks. “You would have let Liv go!”

“To a cabin five hours away when she was only fifteen-years-old? With several boys over eighteen and no adult chaperones for four whole days?” she asks in astonishment. “I most certainly would not have.”

Livvy would never have even had any interest in something like that in the first place.

“I’m almost sixteen, Mom! It’s not fair! The whole band is going and I’m going to get left behind!” Maggie exclaims, blinking back angry tears.

“Baby, I know this is important to you and I’m sorry I have to say no, but you’re just not old enough to go that far away by yourself for that long.”

“You never let me do anything!” she whines, slumping face down on the table, sobbing loudly and dramatically.

Chrissy takes a slow inhale through the nose.

Yoga breathing. Yoga breathing. Yoga breathing.

She empathizes. She really does.

If anyone understands what it’s like to be a teenage girl who’s not allowed to do anything, it’s her. But, they don’t know Derek or his family well enough to let their impulsive daughter spend three nights somewhere up in Alexandria Bay.

“That’s a tad of an exaggeration,” she replies wearily. “Don’t you think?”

She doesn’t respond, just pouts heavily with an angry little sniff, propping her chin on her flattened hands.

God, that face she’s making.

She’s so Eddie that it’s ridiculous sometimes.

Speak of the devil, he comes in from the garage after changing the oil to her Explorer, cleaning his hands off with a damp rag, whistling to himself before noticing the tension in the air.

“…Hey,” he greets cautiously, glancing between them, walking over to kiss Chrissy on the side of her head.

“Hi,” she exhales.

“Hi, Daddy.” Maggie mutters.

He eyes their youngest daughter’s petulant moping, looking back up at Chrissy questioningly. They’ve picked up something akin to a psychic connection over the years and he’s quick to catch on that they’re still on the ‘Maggie wanting to go away for the weekend upstate’ topic when she levels his gaze.

He nods in understanding, rubbing her shoulders from behind and Chrissy shrugs silently in response, not knowing what else to do at this point.

Help me out here, I’m going to snap!

“Okay, what’s wrong, Mags?” he asks all cool and casual, ruffling her loose curls as he walks past her toward the fridge to grab something to drink.

“Nothing, I’m just going to be stuck here while all my friends get to go away for the weekend because Mom doesn’t trust me.” She informs him miserably, rubbing vigorously at her face when a few fat tears that slip free.

“…Margaret, that’s not true.” Chrissy sighs, trying not to roll her eyes.

Mom doesn’t trust her?

Mom!?

Well what about her father who nearly blew a fuse when he heard that Derek kid offered for her to go in the first place? Mom had to spend nearly forty minutes talking Daddy down from breaking a seventeen-year-old boy’s nose.

Why is she the bad guy?

“I just don’t understand why Stacey and Megan’s parents are letting them go, but you won’t let me! They’re my age!”

“Why don’t you ask your father what he thinks?” Chrissy suggests, stifling her irritation. “I think I’ve gone over it enough.”

“What’s the point?” Maggie mumbles under her breath. “He’ll just think whatever you tell him to think.”

The silence that follows is earth shattering. The cup she’s holding slips from her hand, plopping back into the sudsy water clanking loudly against the bottom of the sink.

[neptune-lover]

Pregnant? Pt6

Author note:HOWDY sorry this took forever I've been sick the last few weeks and late last week I ended up getting an allergic reaction to something we still don't know yet I see my allergist soon about it but I've also had writers block so I apologize this took so long but here it finally is

Tag list: @hauntedpostpersona @moxkindagirl @babybatlover

Tw: talks of pregnancy, mentions of death and miscarriage, mentions of vomit/throwing up and mentions of sex, use of their real names

It's been about a week since Rhea took the test and you guys went to the appointment and found out that both of you we're in fact pregnant about 2-2 and a half months to be exact. Both of you and all 3 of the boys were very excited but some other people didn't have the best opinions about this. Of course you guys had to tell hunter so he could plan a head and set up a promo to announce you departure from the company for about the next year. The boys decided that it was alternate 1 being home and the other two being away every week so one of them would be home with both girls. Hunter was very excited to hear the news considering he was the one who brought you to NXT from Japan all those years ago. But some of your fellow could workers were not the happiest although you had the ones who were your closest friends out side the WWE Universe like Baily, Becky, Asuka, Seth, liv and so many others but then again not all of you got along in real life like solo sikoa which was weird because the rest of the bloodline were very good friends with you and Damian. Speaking of bloodline Sami was another wrestler fond of you all because of the whole poly thing he never understood and though it was selfish for someone to date more than one person. But all your guy's friends threw a party for you and Rhea as a going away for now kinda thing which was a lot of fun Bad Bunny was there as him and Damian were still the best of friends Rey was there as he was happy he was getting 2 grand kids and he said that if Eddie was still with all of you he would be so happy for all of you and be proud if how far Dominik has come and some of your friends brought their little ones as everyone loved them like edge brought Ruby and lyric and Becky and Seth brought Roux but it was a lot if fun and you were so tired afterwards that when you got home you and Rhea got changed into some pj's and just passed out on the bed. It's been a few days since the party and currently you were sitting on the couch waiting for Finn to finish cooking lunch because you were extremely hungry and today Rhea decided she wanted to backstage with the other two because it was Finn's turn to stay home today so it would just be the two of you.

Hey guys that's all for part 6 I hope you enjoyed again so sorry it took so long I had a bunch if shit going on and I don't always also have a bunch of motivation so being sick and all that didn't help with that but hopefully I will be back to making a bunch of stuff soon and don't forget to check out my request post I'm currently working on one but please feel free to flood my inbox cuz that also give me motivation and also if you aren't sure if I do a character ask in the request and I'll DM you if I make stuff for that character or not

[ridestomars]

MY MEMORY HAS JUST BEEN SOLD – E. MUNSON HEADCANONS

𖥻 summary: a few headcanons about this concept about rockstar!eddie. 𖥻 pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x model!reader. 𖥻 warnings: fluffy ig. not proofread.

💭 liv's thoughts: i can't stop thinking about this so i developed the few ideas i had!! totally gonna write more about this later lmao. i hope you like it! oh, i just posted my 900 followers celebration, so feel free to join!

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU'RE UNDER SIXTEEN.

🎸ㆍBeing just another girl from the small and narrow-minded town of Hawkins, you were never much ambitious about your own dreams, trying to keep them as down-to-Earth as possible. But now you can't help but be amazed at how far you've come as you stare at the February issue of Sports Illustrated magazine with your picture on the cover. 

🎸ㆍAll the stress you felt while posing in that sparkly and very itchy bikini was worth it, you recognize now. You don't think you've ever looked this good in your entire life, and it was certainly the achievement of all your past daydreams. 

🎸ㆍYou have done a few photoshoots throughout your life, but none felt this real or this big. Those small TV commercials and good-girl ads on the interior pages of Seventeen Magazine had nothing on this. The cover meant you were in the same category as the other recognizable names in the industry, and your agent made sure that your gigs were on that level, too: editorials for Vogue, New York, Milan, and Paris Fashion Week, meetings with Gianni Versace and Todd Oldham. 

🎸ㆍYou were getting big, and your lifestyle grew bigger with you. After establishing yourself in Los Angeles your routine consisted of trips to New York, couture fittings, photoshoots, parties until early in the morning, and repeat. Sleep was important, too, though it was never your top priority. 

🎸ㆍEvery time you were out doing something impressive, like getting your pictures taken by Steven Meisel on top of Brooklyn Bridge, wearing only a Chanel gown and no shoes, a little voice in the back of your mind wondered what your friends back in Hawkins might be thinking of you now. 

🎸ㆍIn all honesty, you were never popular, like Steve Harrington or Cindy Cunningham. You have always kept a girl-next-door profile, being nice to everyone who decided to talk to you, but also preferring the company of your intimate circle of friends and staying in, instead of attending those big High School parties. So, you can only imagine their surprise to find out that the model in one of those magazines is you. If they even care. 

🎸ㆍYou just never expected to be answered by bumping into a very familiar face at the Rainbow, on one of your nights out with your LA friends. Sunset Strip was about a mile long, and yet, you two had met again as you were passing by to get back to your table. 

🎸ㆍ"Hey, hotshot," Eddie Munson greeted you with a playful smile, his big brown eyes drifting down your figure before settling on yours. He hasn't changed at all. Long dry hair, slightly flushed cheeks, and that same mischievous gleam in his eyes. He wore his old jean vest, the one with the metal bands patches. The only thing that was different was his new shiny leather jacket, which glowed under the bar's yellow lights. 

🎸ㆍThen, you go to sit at his table, where the rest of his band was. Corroded Coffin was grabbing headlines everywhere in the country, mainly because of their new approach to Metal, composing elaborate guitar riffs and melodic choruses, making commercial music but with that underground edge. But also because of their Dungeons and Dragons inspired songs, which weren't well received by the older audience and labeled as Satanic. Because of this, their albums all have the increasingly popular 'Parents Advisory' sticker. 

🎸ㆍThey are also known to make Nerd-Metal music, which was a genre specifically created to describe their music. Just one album out and they're already infamous. 

🎸ㆍAs far as you remember, Eddie Munson already had a reputation for himself back at home, but now that he had one hundred percent surrendered to the rockstar lifestyle, his notoriety was unprecedented. He was in every music magazine, every TV channel and everyone seems to know who he is – something that he handles more gracefully than you thought he would. Eddie seems to really like the attention. 

🎸ㆍWell, next thing you know, you're standing at the side stage of Corroded Coffin's gig at The Troubadour, and Eddie merrily walks up to you holding a backstage pass. I believe it's needless to say that this was the first of many passes to come.

🎸ㆍThe beginning of your relationship wasn't easy at all, given your busy schedules. It seemed like whenever you had free time, he had an interview; or when he could spend the entire day at his hotel room, hanging out, you had to leave for another tiring photoshoot. It took a long while until you figured out how to make things work. 

🎸ㆍBut you have to admit that those late-night escapades to his rented room in Chateau Marmont are forever engraved in your mind. Besides the endless partying, there was nothing better than laying on Eddie's side while he lazily played guitar for you, as you shared one of those long lounging chairs by the hotel's poolside. 🎸ㆍHe swears he had never written as many songs as he did when you did that. The thought of you, laying so gracefully on that chair with the sun coming up above you, on the horizon… man, it inspires him to the max. 

🎸ㆍTogether, you started to build the reputation of an it-couple, or whatever those teenage magazines say about you. All you know is that his fans also became your fans, especially the young girls. Suddenly, it was like Corroded Coffin's concert audiences became a sea of mini-yous – wearing clothes reminiscent of your style, haircuts similar to yours, eyeliner just as smokey.

🎸ㆍAppearing on the cover of gossip magazines started to be normal for the two of you. People would start the most outlandish rumors about your relationship, and according to the issues, you got married exactly ten times throughout 1994.

🎸ㆍBut your rising fame as a couple also brought the most recognized campaign of your career so far: the Guess Jeans advertisement you shot walking through West Hollywood, just living another normal day of your lives – well, with constant wardrobe changes. There were a bunch of really good pictures, like the one of you in all-denim at a record store, holding Corroded Coffin's new album; one where Eddie is sitting on top of a random motorcycle (he tried to buy it off the owner on the spot, but the offer was rejected) with his usual jeans and leather jacket combo; and finally, one of you two walking on Hollywood's Walk of Fame. His arm is thrown on top of your shoulders as you hold his hand, and the picture captures your matching boots perfectly. 

🎸ㆍEddie requests for that photo to be printed on a big canvas so that he could hang it up on his living room wall, and it's his main decor item ♡

LIKES, REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED!

eddie masterlist | main masterlist | navigation ── beep! you have an invitation to join my 900 followers matinee. take a look at the movies i'm currently screening!

[livwritesstuff]

Steve’s oldest daughter Moe is unusually quiet on the drive home from her college apartment in New York City.

She was supposed to be doing this drive with her younger sister Robbie (who had bullied Steve and Eddie into letting her bring a car with her to college), but then Robbie and her friends had actually managed to squirrel away enough money for an impromptu trip to D.C. for their spring break, and Moe had still wanted to visit home even without a ride.

Steve had made a whole show acting all put out over having to make the four hour drive between her school in NYC and their house in the Massachusetts suburbs (twice, he’ll add — he’s been on the road for six hours so far with a couple more to go) but, truthfully, there isn’t much he wouldn’t do to spend time with his kids, especially since the older two have firmly graduated to young-adult status, and he easily could have put her on a train.

“So what’s goin’ on with you, Moe?” he finally asks when the quiet stretches a little to far.

Moe shrugs, and then she says, “I was wondering something.”

“Go for it.”

“You and Dad, like…you were older when you started dating, right?”

Steve pauses for a moment, allowing himself to consider what might qualify as older to his twenty-one-year-old daughter. 

“I guess it depends on what you mean by older,” he settles on telling her.

“I mean, you weren’t in high school anymore, even though you knew each other in high school.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, “I was halfway through grad school, so twenty-six, I think, and you know Dad’s not even a year older than me.”

Moe nods in return, and  then she asks, “And you were friends before anything else happened? Like, for a while?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve replies, “Dad, and Aunt Nancy, and Aunt Robin were my best friends. Still are, obviously, just…different over time.”

“But, like, how–” Moe stops, and Steve can tell without needing to look away from the road to check the way her eyebrows are furrowed, the way they’re crinkled in the middle just like they always are on the rare occasions Moe can’t find the words she needs. She lets out a short exhale, “How did you know that it changed?” Before Steve can answer, Moe shakes her head, “How did you know that what you were feeling wasn’t, like, friend things anymore? Or, like, that it was more than just friend things.”

“Uh,” Steve pauses, running a hand through his hair, “Honestly, Nancy kind of told me.”

Moe’s head turns in his direction.

“Aunt Nancy told you?” she asks, “Pop…that’s so lame.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happened.”

“Why?”

Steve thinks about it for a second. It’s funny, he doesn’t actually put too much thought into that time in his life – the seven years that had lapsed between becoming friends with Eddie in the aftermath of everything with the Upside Down and when they’d finally gotten together. That was nearly thirty years ago, after all, and Steve hasn’t ever really been the type to dwell on the past. He takes a moment to dwell on it now and remembers how long it had taken him to notice the dull ache behind his ribs and the anxious somersault his stomach had done every time Eddie so much as looked his way.

“I mean – yeah, you’re right. It’s…it’s not easy when you’re close with someone for a long time and then the way you feel about them changes, because, you know, it’s not – I mean, it’s not like it changes overnight. It’s gradual, so…yeah, it’s not easy.”

“Yeah,” she quietly agrees.

“Nance, just – well, you know Nance. She just clocked it before I did, and I guess she didn’t have the patience to wait it out. Once I knew though, it was, like, super fucking obvious. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t known before.”

Moe’s laugh is nervous in a way Steve isn’t sure he’s ever heard before, and if there’s a friend of Moe’s she might be feeling differently for, he thinks he might have an idea which one. Moe is a hell of a lot smarter than him though, and this conversation is telling enough that she won’t need things spelled out for her in the way he had with Eddie thirty years ago.

“It was hard,” he continues, because he has a feeling Moe might need to hear more even if she isn’t asking for anything specific, “I – I mean, I actually liked dating when I was your age, believe it or not. I thought it was fun, or whatever, and it wasn’t really a thing that made me nervous, you know? With your dad, though…shit, I was terrified, because it’s a different kind of risk than just shooting your shot with someone you run into and hit it off with.”

Moe nods.

“I think the reason it’s so freaky is because falling for someone you’re friends with is never just a crush. I knew there was something big there. I know you guys hate when Dad and I are all sappy, but he was never just some guy I was dating. He was it for me from the very beginning.”

Moe mumbles something under her breath that Steve doesn’t quite catch.

“What was that?”

“I don’t hate it,” she says, her voice still pretty low, and Steve knows that must have been difficult for her to admit so he doesn’t comment on it (though he will be telling Eddie as soon as he possibly can – obviously).

“Well, I’m just saying,” he replies, “I wasn’t feeling that way for nothing, and things turned out pretty good in the end. If someone was in a similar situation, I’d tell them…” he pauses, and then laughs as he says, “I’d tell them to not wait seven years to get a good thing started.”

“Alright,” she replies, “I’ll…yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

[actuallysara]

#DINAH Masterpost: Rafael & Ronen's M&Gs

This is all from memory, lots of quick notes taken after the meetings and other fans’ contributions so I apologize in advance if some things/dialogues are not 100% accurate. Photo credits to xkeelyx1

Ronen's Saturday M&G: • He just recently hung out with Liv Tyler. He misses her a lot on set and he hopes she will be back for the tarlos wedding considering both Carlos and Nancy are very close to her.

• His favourite Harry Styles songs right now are "Cinema" and "Boyfriends". • He thinks TK got into his addiction the same way he did. Just being around wrong people and bad influences in high school especially considering how New York is the biggest place for opioids. He said TK was probably a bad boy. TK and him are so similar it's weird. After reading his first script he thought playing the character would be kind of therapeutic for him. • The first two things that are on his bucket list are: teach the same theatre program in his high school that he started in and work with the students and be one of the coaches; and start an opioid program in Staten Island because that's the worst borough in New York for drugs. • He owes his life to one of his high school teachers who was like a mum for him in high school. • He would love to do theatre and Broadway at some point. He wants to do "Streetcar named Desire". That's one of his biggest dreams. • He thinks TK and Andrea’s relationship has got to bloom at some point. TK doesn't have a mother figure anymore. Tommy is his captain so Andrea would be perfect for that role. He would love to get more TK and Gabriel stuff too.   • Roxana is hilarious and amazing to work with. • Someone suggested TK could sing to Carlos at their wedding and he said that the perfect song would be "Heroes" by Enrique Iglesias. • He thinks a crossover in season 4 is pretty much given. They couldn't do one in season 3 because Covid killed their budget but he thinks their budget is gonna get back to normal soon. • The plan for season 3 was to have a two episodes crossover. • Team Buck or team Eddie? Probably team Buck since they had some scenes together in the crossover. • He would like to shoot a scene with Angela Bassett. • He really hopes we're gonna see Jonah. If he's not mistaken Tim has said we're probably gonna see Enzo at some point too. Enzo is a massive father figure for TK cause he was there when Owen wasn't. He wants Alexander Skarsgard to play the part. "TK is gonna have a crush on his step daddy, or well, step zaddy". Timothy Olyphant or Josh Duhamel would be cool too. • We're getting a big tarlos wedding. Tim wants to make sure they earn that. Rafael and him want to see them being engaged and not rushed into it. Things are probably not gonna go smooth all the time for them. • He really wants to get more Carlos backstory. "I need to see more, I don't know anything about Carlos as Ronen." A fan was like "where do you come from?" referring to Carlos and Ronen went "heaven". • He thinks TK would be a hot mess if Carlos were to get hurt. He wouldn't handle it stoically as Carlos and he would definitely try to kill the person who hurt him. That could also potentially put his sobriety at risk. He would love to do another fight scene. • He thinks a 911 Lone Star convention with the whole cast is feasible. 

Rafael's Saturday M&G: • He thinks Carlos has sisters, he can't be an only child. He definitely grew up with a lot of women in the house. • He thinks they're still playing it very safe with tarlos and that they're still being generic with their storylines. • In the 3x08 promo we see Carlos on the phone while the plane was going down. Carlos was trying to reach TK and he left him a voicemail. He remembered what the message was but he wouldn't tell us. • The cut dinner scene from season 1 was Carlos making dinner and him and TK were talking about Iris. But production changed the storyline so that scene didn't really make any sense anymore so that's why it got cut. TK was also feeling guilty about something "as always". He finds it so ridiculous that they keep using the still from that cut scene to promote the show everywhere. • He wants to see Carlos get hurt too but he's starting to take it personally that so many people want him to be in pain. • He thinks there's a huge difference in Carlos getting hurt and in police officer Reyes getting hurt. Because if it's Carlos getting hurt then that's more exclusive to TK and his family and potentially the 126; while if it's police officer Reyes getting hurt then that involves the department and literally everybody else. • He wants TK to think he got stood up at the wedding so bad. It could go that Carlos is on his way to the wedding and maybe an accident happens and there's traffic and he could get hurt there.  • He really wants a Carlos begins episode. He wants to see what kind of mistakes he makes cause that man's not perfect. • He brought up fanfiction out of nowhere. He hasn't read any and he was shocked to hear there are graphic ones. "Are there some orgies happening? Is that why it's so hot in here?" He asked for titles but we all refused. • Shooting the tarlos proposal was the most fun he had shooting a scene. That was the last shoot of the second to last day. • He finds it funny that people focused on the "fucking lizard" line during the proposal. • He might write a script rather than a book. • He wants to get Ronen back for always posting videos of him sleeping. A fan called Ronen "a little shit" for doing that and he absolutely lost it. About him reacting with his famous "Ronen": "I love Ronen, I really do. I understand him and I see him so that's why I react that way".

Tarlos Saturday M&G: • Ronen: "you guys made us the highest selling couple of the convention. I mean it's not a competition but..." Rafael laughing: "It's not a competition but fuck them all" • They got asked if they have any lgbtq+ couples or tv shows/movies they look up to. For Rafael it's "Weekend" and "God’s Own Country"; for Ronen it's "Moonlight". • A fan asked them about tarlos wearing shoes in bed during 2x12. They tried shooting the scene with them taking off their shoes but it didn't flow and it was mostly a security/technical matter since they literally had to walk through real fire. That would have just been an impediment to get the scene out. • Carlos having longer hair in season 3 was all Rafael. • They got asked who breaks character more often between the two and it's Rafael. Cause he doesn't shoot often with Julian, Natacha and Brian and shooting with them is both the best and worst time ever. They're all funny and always make him histerically laugh. During the scene when he goes into the firehouse in 3x07, Julian, Natacha and Brian wouldn't stop making him laugh and they had to adlib during that scene so they would just keep saying the dumbest stuff. In that scene Ronen adlibs "I'm not even a firefighter anymore". Jim says some crazy stuff too and at times it's really hard to keep going during scenes. • They got asked if they could choose another actor to play Carlos/TK who would they choose and Ronen didn't miss a beat and said that nobody else could ever play Carlos Reyes. Ronen: "This is the guy and I can't even begin to imagine somebody else in the part."  Rafael: "I've never encountered myself wishing that another actor would play his role" Ronen: "Except when I annoy him and take videos in secret and he's just "Ronen". There are so many videos that you've never seen". Rafael: "I like this guy and I'm not just saying that cause he said it." • Regarding the audition tapes. Rafael said he never wants to see them but those would probably explain why they're here right now. Their connection was right from the beginning. They barely spoke and the chemistry was just there. Ronen said he doesn't want to be mean but once Rafael auditioned he went to the producers and said "Do we even have to see the other guy?" cause there was just another actor auditioning for the part. • Rafael talked again about how they're playing it safe with tarlos and Ronen went "in Station 19 you have Danielle flashing Stefania and I'm like "why aren't we doing that???" Rafael: "Are you gonna wear a sock?" Ronen: "No" Rafael: "No?! No sock?! Lord" Ronen: "I'll wear underwear, the camera just won't see it." Rafael: "Are we still talking about it?!" • The scenes in 3x15 with the lizard were added two days before shooting the episode. Rafael didn't know the lizard was real at first and just shaked the box it was in. It didn't move at all so he thought it was fake and he ended up traumatizing the poor animal. • Rafael said he can actually picture Ronen doing something like that too, just picking up a random lizard and bringing it home and Rafael would just have the same reaction as Carlos and go "Ronen NO" • A fan mentioned how they would love to see them both doing theatre and Ronen went "Tarlos: a Broadway show. Or Tarlos: the musical" Rafael: "It would be the gayest thing ever". • Lighting has been a problem for the past 3 seasons. The scenes are shot beautifully but the filter they use just make them all look grey and it gets frustrating for them too because irl they don't look anything like that. But it definitely improved from season 1. • They would love to have Liv back for the tarlos wedding. • They didn't notice that the time the proposal happened at (3:18am) was also the number of the episode. • During Carlos' hospital monologue Rafael improvised the "Believe people when they tell you who they are". They shot the dream sequence first so in order to add something for Carlos to appear really mad, he got mad too and added that line. The dream sequence was a crazy day of shooting cause they had to keep putting Rafael in and out of the scene while Ronen was walking around the living room. • They both want the wedding to happen at the right time and for it to not be rushed.

Tarlos Sunday Breakfast: • Ronen mentioned how he was waiting for Rafael to do the tarlos photos the day before and that he stood in line with fans. Ronen: "You were late and I was in line waiting for you." Rafael: "Ronen, do you know the joy I get in having YOU wait for me" Ronen: "I'm pretty punctual" Rafael: "Yeah, we're not talking about that" Ronen: "on SET. Not the make up trailer" • Ronen is an iced coffee guy and he didn't know what Rafael drinks, which is hot black coffee. When he suggested he likes tea Rafael was so affronted. He judged Ronen for liking iced coffee because it's such an American thing. • A fan brought them a gift and they joked that it's for both of them. Rafael: "You give Ronen something and then I meet all of you and you go "I gave Ronen something for you" and I go??? Where is it???" We learned Ronen doesn't share alcohol. • Someone was talking about the heat and went "where's a paramedic when you need one" and Rafael pointed at Ronen and went "She's right here" • Rafael loves the dinner scene in 1x03 cause that's the scene that made him fall in love with tarlos. • Ronen's favourite scene always changes. The engagement is number 1 and then he loves the scenes where they talk about TK's sponsor in 3x13. • Rafael really got mad at the "You know he's straight, right?" line in that scene cause that’s such a stereotypical line among queer couples. For Ronen that just made it more real.

Rafael's Sunday M&G: • Not many questions were asked during this M&G cause it was mostly a conversation about the convention, Paris, the videos he recorded for fans and the show in general and what it means to people and how it helped lots of fans during the pandemic. • He talked a bit about his trip to Ireland and how he risked his life there by driving too close to the edge of a cliff. • "Eveyone's a child. Everyone goes to bed having ice cream and watching Pocahontas" • He has watched Heartstopper.

[nathaniel-donovan]

with: @oliviaxsinclair where: Olivia's home.

Before letting himself into Olivia's home he had tried to contact her on several occasions, more so off his own back once he heard about the drama surrounding her and Eddie that was circulating, and more so promptly when he had heard from Mia. Pushing through the front door once he had unlocked it he makes his way through her house, "Liv?" he called out as he started to check downstairs, wanting to at least make her aware that he was there - her car still being in the driveway was his tell that she was here somewhere. With unsuccessful attempts downstairs his soon makes his way up the stairs, calling out again just so there was no surprise factor to him actually being here. Reaching her bedroom after checking the other rooms, he knocks on the door lightly a few times before he moved through. Seeing her laying in her bed had him frowning slightly, deciding for himself to sit at the bottom of the bed with no invitation to do so. "Mia's worried about you." he chooses to say first before, "Do you want to talk about it or do you want a hug first?"

[orangesunsets12]

Steve remembered, as a kid, being the only one that was never taken out of class. His parents never had to have him leave class early for appointments, trips, surprises, or even special lunches. He remembered being jealous as all of his peers came back from these getaways, sometimes with a frown, especially when they had to leave for the dentist, sometimes with a smile, always holding a fancy lunch that their parents got them, some even bragging about what they did. Some visited the city, some went bowling, some left early for trips to tropical islands. Steve never experienced anything like that, but he always felt a pit of despair sink in his stomach, like he was missing something. Like his parents never cared. 

As time went on, and Steve got older, he realized that he didn’t need his parents to take him out of class. He could just skip, and it would be the same, wouldn’t it? 

He couldn’t have been more wrong. 

For one thing, his teachers hated it, and he always had their sharp glares staring at him as he walked through the halls. His parents hated it, too, and he didn’t get special lunches that made everyone jealous. He got punished. 

So, he wasn’t sure how to go about this whole “leaving class early” now. He didn’t want to encourage skipping class, but he didn’t want to make other kids jealous. Nonetheless, he needed to get her out of class somehow. Unless he passed the speed limit, but that in itself was a risk that he didn’t want to take. An example that he didn’t want to set for his little girl. 

Steve took a deep breath as he walked into the elementary school, making sure he looked like the responsible father that he tried to be. He made his way to the front desk, where a young man was typing away at the computer. 

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Aviva Harrington?” 

“Name?” The man asked, his voice monotone, and Steve pulled out his ID.

“Steve. Steve Harrigton. I’m her father.” 

The man only took a quick glance at the plastic before continuing. 

“What’s the reason you have to see her? Did she forget her lunch again?”

Steve chuckled, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “No, I’m here to take her out of class. I emailed the school about it yesterday?”

A few clicks of a keyboard resulted in a positive hum. “I guess you did. An appointment?”

If he meant an appointment of fun, absolutely. 

But Steve wasn’t about to say that. 

“Yup. As much as I don’t want to drag her out of class I have no choice.”

Yeah. Because Eddie and Dustin would kill him. Brutally. 

The man took Steve’s words without complaint, and soon took the phone and called what Steve assumed was Aviva’s class. After a minute or so he was done, and gestured to the chairs nearby. 

“She’ll be here shortly with all of her stuff. First sign this and have a seat.”

“Umm, thanks.”

Steve hesitantly signed the paper and took a seat, knowing that Aviva was going to be here in an instant. She was always shimmering with energy, talking a mile a minute, her hands always gesturing wildly. He could see her in his mind, her brown, long hair waving back and forth as she talked, her blue sneakered feet jumping up and down when she got excited. He didn’t really know where she got all of her energy from, maybe her mother, who could never stay in one spot for long, but Steve wasn’t sure. The thing about her mom was that she knew when to slow down, to calm down when the situation called for it, and Aviva hadn’t learned that fully yet. 

Robin, or Auntie Robin for Avi, always seemed to think that Steve had a lot of energy too, especially in his Family Video days, so Avi’s energy could be from him. He couldn’t really see it, though. His level of social butterfly-ness was nothing compared to Liv’s. Well, until it wasn’t. But he didn’t want to think about that today. 

Moments later, like he predicted, Aviva comes bounding down the hallways, beaming as she waved goodbye to the teacher that led her here. Her brown hair waved behind her, despite Steve’s encouragement to put it in a braid or something. 

“Bye Mrs. McKinney! Bye Mr. Thomson!”

Her teacher and the receptionist waved goodbye, the receptionist rolling his eyes, but Steve ignored him, instead choosing to take Avi’s bag and accept the hug that she offered him. 

“Hey, Dad! You never do this, what are we doing?”

He smiled fondly at her as he herded her out of the door. “An appointment, remember?”

Her green eyes bore into his with confusion. She opened her mouth to reply, no doubt questioning his statement, but he put his finger to his lips in a secretive way, one that made her smile. 

“Oh, right, the appointment! How could I forget?”

“Exactly my question! How could you?”

As soon as they were close to his car, far away from the overhearing ears of the school staff, Avi broke out into a fit of giggles, tossing her bag into the back. Steve couldn’t help but laugh along with her, hopping into the driver’s seat as she hopped into the passenger seat. 

“Okay, what are we actually doing?”

“An appointment, like I said.”

“Dad!”

He laughed, ruffling her hair despite her protesting and pulled out of the parking lot. 

“Okay, maybe I have a special birthday gift for my little girl.”

Avi gave him a big smile, brighter than Steve could ever understand. “I’m not a little girl anymore, Dad, I’m fourteen.”

“You’ll always be my little girl.”

She groaned, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “You’re such a dad. All you’re missing is a dad bod and a crappy ballcap and you’d be the cover of the Old Men’s magazine.”

“Hey! No gifts for you then, I guess.”

“No! No, I was kidding!”

“Check in the glovebox.” Steve said with a chuckle, “It’s not much, but…happy birthday, Aviva. I know I haven’t been the best father on your birthdays, but I want this year to be different.”

“I don’t blame you.” She replied softly. “It’s not your fault that Mom died on the same day I was born. I mean, I don’t even know whether to celebrate or grieve today.”

“Celebrate. Today’s a celebration, alright? That’s what she would want.” Steve ignored the sadness in his chest at her words, about how this cruel world decided that this young girl should suffer like this, taking her mother away on her birthday, and giving her so much weight on such a happy day. Steve felt like he’d failed. He didn’t want her carrying pain like he did. 

Taking a deep breath, he reached over and opened the glovebox, taking out the small box while keeping one eye on the road. She took it, studying the wrapping paper and flipping it over, as if trying to discern what it was. 

“Open it. I promise it’s not magic wrapping paper that will unwrap itself.”

She shook her head, a small smile returning to her face as she opened it. Her eyes widened, and the smile grew, lighting up the vehicle. She laughed, her eyes shining with so much joy, and Steve knew that he had picked the right gift. 

“You got me the new Corroded Coffin CD? Dad, this has been sold out for weeks!”

“I know, I know, I’m the greatest dad ever.” Steve said, chucking, and giving a slight bow from where he was seated. She shoved his shoulder in response, laughing, and he shoved her back. “Okay, but turn it over. Look at the back.”

“Dad, I already know all of the songs off heart, I don’t need to see the song list.”

“Just turn it over! What are you waiting for? You just can’t listen to me, can you?”

“Get a crappy ballcap and I’ll reconsider my actions.”

“Turn it over!”

He could hear her flip the disk over, her breath hitching, and he smiled, waiting for the realization to hit. She was a pretty observant girl, he knew that it wouldn’t take her long. 

“Dad…? Are these…are these what I think they are?”

“Yup. Two tickets to Corroded Coffin, for tonight's showing. Front row.”

“How did you get these?” She asked, waving the tickets at him after gently taking them off of the gift. “How?”

“I told you, I’m friends with Eddie Munson.”

“I told you, I’m friends with Eddie Munson.” She mimicked in a teasing tone. “No, you’re not! How did you get these?”

“I already told you, but you don’t seem to believe me!”

“Because it’s a lie! It’s a stupid, crazy, obvious lie!”

“We both lived in Hawkins, went to school together, and became friends after I graduated. You go to the same school he did. How is it so hard to believe?”

“I’m sorry, but forgive me if I can’t see my father, a lowly mechanic, knowing the world renowned musician and singer Eddie Munson.”

Steve scoffed, “You know what? After that stupid comment I’m convinced that I should drive back home and take you back to school. You might be able to make it back for English…”

“No! No English! I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”

He shrugged. “Okay…I guess I'll keep on driving, then.”

She smiled, turning back to the CD and the tickets, basically quivering with excitement. And Steve just couldn’t wait for the moment that she saw that they were VIP tickets, and to see that Eddie Munson himself was going to give her a tour backstage. 

He may not have been the best dad ever, but at least he could make his daughter happy, and that was all that he cared about.

[wh0re-behavi0r]

In Every Universe, I choose You

collab fic with the lovely @eddiediazisascorpio

rated e | 43k | buddie | read on ao3 | chapter 6/11

chapter 6 summary:

“What about Olivia? Or, Liv for short?” Lettie muses, “That’s cute.”

Eddie thinks about it. 

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

Lettie waves that off. 

“Or, what about Sienna? Savannah? Or, even Winona?”

Eddie’s face drops once he realizes what she’s doing.

“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, and Lettie pretends like she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. “I’m not naming my daughter after women that you’ve dated or have crushes on. That’s weird.”

“You came to me for ideas!” Lettie says, throwing her arms out. “Don’t complain when I’m just trying to help.”

read chapter 6 on ao3

tags under the cut (lemme know if you want to be added or removed)

@loveyourownsmiilee @elfbuckleys @swiftiebuckleys @swiftiediaz @lostinabuddiehaze @buddierights @elvensorceress @paranoidbean @enbyeddiediaz @kitkatpancakestack @gayhoediaz@ajunerose @elanebutterfly @shortsighted-owl @eddiecore118

@yelenasbuddie @the-likesofus @spotsandsocks

@jacksadventuresinwriting @monsterrae1 @bekkachaos 

@two-cut-lines @eddiediass @megslovesbooks @justsmilestuffhappens @daughterofbuddie 

@djdangerlove @babytrapperdiaz @itsmetheguru