#they both wake the fuck up at eddie's concert

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Sorry, just this little ficlet, and then I'll continue taking my break. I actually got some progress made on my WIP . . . Whoops, I accidentally wrote a little bit of smut. It was supposed to be just an accidental kiss.

18+ MINORS DNI

Eddie and Steve were friends. To them, they were like Steve and Robin, bound by trauma whilst being completely platonic. Oh, how very wrong they were. The realization came to them by complete accident. Eddie and his band finally had a gig that had a crowd a lot bigger than the crowd back in Hawkins. Corroded Coffin was playing at a decently sized bar just outside of Indianapolis. Steve and Robin were the only ones who could get away. Well, Robin had happily invited Vickie along with them, too. The three of them cheered when Eddie walked up to the mic and threw up devil horns in their direction. The horns slowly dropped, however, when he saw what they were wearing. All three of them were wearing homemade Corroded Coffin t-shirts, and they were all bright pink. He scowled at them and began to play.

Steve was thrilled to watch him play. He couldn't be more delighted at the sight of his friend ruling the stage. . .fucking owning the stage is what he was doing. Steve’s heart rate skyrocketed as he watched Eddie's long hair flow backward, exposing his throat as he tilted his head back. Eddie's crop top was drenched with sweat, and droplets ran down his stomach. God, Steve wanted to lick it. Wait. . .what? Before he could question that thought, the show ended, and Eddie was leaving the stage. Steve had to go see him.

"You go, we have to pee," Vickie said, her eyes shining.

Steve scoffed and waved them off. He knew exactly what they were going to do. Steve went into the back, only to find that Eddie wasn't with the rest of the band.

"Yeah, Eddie's in the back office there. He's getting out his excess energy. He was scaring Frankie again," Gareth said.

"I am NOT scared of Eddie, asshole," Frankie muttered.

They hadn't been kidding about Eddie's energy levels. He was practically bouncing off the walls when Steve walked into the room. He threw himself into Steve’s arms and hugged him tightly before pulling back. He was beaming like the sun.

"So, what'd you think?" Eddie asked.

"You were awesome, man! If this is what metal sounds like when you play it, then I could listen to it all of the time," Steve said.

Eddie grabbed his face and pressed a hard, grateful kiss to Steve’s lips. When he felt Steve tense up in surprise, he pulled back, his face red.

"Sorry, I don't know where that came from," Eddie said, and Steve gazed at him for a moment, his mouth open.

"Don't be," Steve quickly. "It was a, uh, nice kiss. Very nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck, I liked it too."

And that's how Steve found himself pressed up against the wall of the office, Eddie's mouth against his in a hungry kiss. God, it felt like Eddie was trying to devour him. Maybe he was, and maybe he wanted to be devoured by him. Was that what that feeling was? Yeah, he knew it. It wasn't any different than when he had strong feelings for a girl, but it was different in a way that felt more final, like he didn't want to kiss anyone else ever again. Maybe that's why he chose to ignore it all these many months that they had spent hanging out together.

Steve moaned as Eddie's hands wandered up his shirt. Eddie cupped his pecs, his thumbs brushing over his nipples and working them as he moved his lips to Steve’s neck. Steve cursed. Suddenly, Eddie's hands were back over his shirt again. They gripped the collar of the shirt tightly as Eddie moved back. He tore the shirt cleanly down the middle.

"Pink, really?" Eddie asked, and Steve grinned wickedly. "I knew you did that shirt on purpose. Bad Boy. Don't worry, I have a couple shirts I brought with me. You can wear one of mine."

Eddie's eyes darkened at the thought of Steve wearing his clothes. He slipped the rest of the shirt off of him before tearing off his own shirt. Steve gripped his hips, pushing him backward until Eddie's legs hit the back of the small couch. Eddie sat down, and Steve straddled him. Steve’s hand dove in between Eddie's legs and cupped Eddie's clothed hard on. Eddie moaned and cursed Steve’s name as he pressed his hand further against him.

"Goddamn it! Fuck you, Steve," Eddie cursed again.

"So, you don't want my hand inside of your pants. . .hand pressed against your hard cock. . .hard just for me, huh?" Steve whispered in his ear.

The image of Eddie with his head tossed back, just like he was now, on stage fueled the fire that was burning inside of Steve. His tight pants were constricting him. They almost hurt.

"Yes! Fuck! I want you to touch me!" Eddie exclaimed and whispered.

Steve unbuttoned his own pants before doing the same with Eddie's. He wanted to stroke their dicks at the same time. Once this fire was lit, it seemed difficult to put out. Steve had slipped his hand into Eddie's pants when the door burst open. Robin came in with Vickie. Everyone froze. Robin stared at Steve and Eddie. They stared back at her while Vickie backed away slowly out of the room.

"This is exactly what it looks like," Eddie said, Steve’s hand still down his pants.

"What the hell?! I thought the three of us were all platonic with a capital p!" Robin exclaimed.

"Sorry," Steve said, not looking sorry at all.

"It's alright," Robin said softly. "I'll forgive you since you're being queer and all. Eddie finish getting fucked by my best friend and buys us some drinks. You owe us for scarring my girlfriend."

"I'm not scarred! I think it's great! I just didn't want to see it!" Vickie hollered.

"Bless her, she's delusional," Robin said and backed out of the room.

"Tell Gareth to bring us some shirts!" Eddie hollered.

Steve climbed off Eddie, laughing with them as he collapsed next to him.

"Ugh, she ruined the mood," Steve complained.

"Yeah. . .so, queer, huh?" Eddie asked.

"Well, what we did definitely wasn't straight," Steve said and they laughed.

The door opened and Gareth came in with his eyes shut.

"Robin said that I should close my eyes because there's something scary going on in here. Eddie. . .did you really try and fight Steve? We told you before you can't take him," Gareth said. "Even in a hypothetical fight."

Eddie scowled and crossed his arms while Steve struggled to contain his laughter. He watched with a fond smile as Eddie pouted, his bottom lip jutting out. He had really been buried deep in his denial because how could he have possibly thought that he and Eddie were just friends?

[xiaq]

I want an AU where Steve is a werewolf and Eddie is a vampire except neither of them know about the other.

Eddie is the frontman of an up and coming band, but he's left his coven and surrounded himself with humans. They perform after sunset anyway so it's easy enough for him to hide his nature.

Steve has similarly left his toxic family pack and built his own pseudo-pack through the kids. He works as a park ranger. Or an ornithologist. Or something else nature-y/nerdy. But no one knows about his furry little secret.

Maybe Steve ends up attending a concert with one of the kids who has VIP passes and Eddie zeros in on Steve immediately at the meet and greet because he's pretty and preppy and delightfully out of place and also he smells good. And Steve is having similar thoughts, but he tries to play it off because there's no way an honest to god rock star would be interested in him and his polo and his boat shoes (also his hearing is temporarily fucked from the concert, so he doesn't register Eddie's lack of heartbeat).

After some light flirting, Eddie invites Steve back to his hotel and Steve is like, you know what? Yes. I am going to have a one night stand with the gorgeous front man of a metal band and I'll probably fall a little in love with him by the end of the night and it will break my heart when he kicks me out in the morning, but it will be an experience. Let me go drop off my kids and I'll be right back.

Except what he doesn't know is Eddie is planning to have a little snack while they're in the throes of passion––not enough to hurt Steve or anything, just enough that he'll have a pleasurable blackout and wake up tired but sated.

The only problem is that neck-biting (that breaks the skin) for wolves is the equivalent of marriage.

So when Eddie bites Steve, instead of a venom-drunk human, peacefully slipping into sleep in his arms, he gets a very horny, very confused, werewolf who is now insisting that they're married.

I can't decide if it would be funnier if Wolves/Vampires didn't know about each other, Ie:

"You're a Werewolf?" Eddie says, "What do you mean you're a werewolf? Werewolves exist? No. Shut up. Prove it."

And:

"Holy shit. A vampire. Vampires are real," Steve reaches for Eddie's face and Eddie is so baffled by the everything of this situation that he lets Steve pinch Eddie's top lip and peel it up off his fangs for a mortifyingly long moment. Eddie draws the line when he starts poking at Eddie's incisors, though.

"Why do I feel funny?" Steve mutters. "Will your venom kill me?"

"How should I know," Eddie hisses, only a little hysterical, "I didn't know wolves existed until two minutes ago, I've never bitten a wolf before."

"And you won't be biting any others, mister. Infidelity is not ok."

The other option is that wolves and vamps DO know about each other but stay so isolated in their covens and packs (and loners are super unusual) that they never interact. So Steve and Eddie are both like, dang, I'd been raised to think all of your kind were smelly/ugly/gross, but you uh, don't fit into that box at all. Weird.

Regardless, Steve (still naked, probably) crosses his arms all huffy, like, "well, we're married now, you're not going to bite me and then cast me aside like some harlot," and Eddie is like "...I'm weirdly ok with this, actually. No arguments here." And eventually they live happily ever after.

[aphrogeneias]

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x manager's daughter!reader

summary: eddie has hit rock bottom. it's been a long time coming. there's only one person who can help him, but he hasn't thought of her in a long time.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: mentions of drinking and drugs (licit and illicit), and issues with the excess of both. brief mention of a small injury.

series masterlist / taglist is open!

The first thing Eddie ever noticed about you was your laugh. It was your most striking feature.

It commanded a room. It said everything there was to say about you. Loud, unabashed, not scared to call attention. The kind of laughter that makes you throw your head back, the kind that makes everything funnier. Impossible to miss.

He heard it, clear as a bell, across the hall from your father’s office, the first time he walked through the halls of that office building, shoulder to shoulder with his friends and bandmates, ready to sign Corroded Coffin’s first ever major deal.

A lot of firsts in one day. Too many life changing circumstances. The first fallen domino in a long, crumbling chain.

He can still see it all. The outdated, 1970s wallpaper and carpet, creams and oranges and swirls. The tour posters and platinum records littering the walls. The smell of cigarettes and hardwood floor wax coming from his future manager’s office as they went in. Into the lion’s den, wide eyed boys with hands that trembled too much for a confident handshake.

The girl sitting on top of the big office table, laughing at her father’s jokes. He couldn't hear what he told you just before they came in, but it seemed like an intimate moment. Father and daughter, their own world.

That laughter, though. It caught him by surprise. It shook the entire room. She barely spared them a glance as they were ushered in, and climbed down with a kind of feline grace. Her hair bounced behind her as she walked away, hurriedly blowing a kiss back at the man behind the desk.

Expensive perfume, the glint of golden jewelry on her skin, the sway of her hips just before the door closed behind her. His eyes struggled with tearing themselves off the door that hid her from him.

The first time he saw you. You, you, you.

Eddie Munson had never met anyone like you. He wasn't sure he ever would — and he was right, after all.

CHATEAU MARMONT HOTEL, LOS ANGELES, 1990

The sound of the telephone wakes him up.

He doesn’t know when he’s gone to bed, has no memory of it, but he can feel the toll last night took on his body. His tired body drags itself across the mattress, and the first thing Eddie notices is that he’s naked. The second is that the phone is still ringing.

Reaching out, his face hits the pillow once more, smushing his cheek against it as he grabs the receiver and pulls it to his ear. “Munson residence. Edwin speaking.”

“Where the fuck were you, man?”

The voice on the other side of the line sounds like Jeff, but Eddie’s never heard him quite like this. On the verge of tears, but maybe his still drunk brain is playing tricks on him. He doesn’t need to look around to know that the room is a mess. There’s a sheet on the floor, and a bottle of booze on his field of vision, and another at the side table next to the phone. Both empty.

He’s just glad he didn’t wake up to someone next to him in bed.

“What do you mean, where were you? At the hotel, I think. You were here too.”

“Last night, Eddie. We waited for you. Where were you? We thought you were dead.”

Last night. He didn’t remember last night. A rooftop, a pool, a sunset. Too many bottles, too many pills. A girl putting something on his tongue while she sat on his lap, and shutting his jaw closed with a delicate hand. Tripping on lounge chairs, falling on the pool. Blood on his knees. Someone dragging him up and into the elevator.

“What day is it?” He mumbles.

A record label party in their honor, to follow the success of their fourth album. Followed by a… concert.

A concert.

All that comes from the other side of the line is a drawn out sigh. “They’re sending someone to go get you. I hope you get your shit together until then.”

Then, it goes silent.

The concert.

Stumbling on himself, Eddie tries to stand up, and falls. The memory of his skinned knees comes as quickly as the pain does, and he notices they’re bare, still bleeding a little. He finds his underwear on the floor, next to the rest of his clothes, and slips them on as he moves towards the door, propping himself up on the wall.

He yanks the door open, and sprints through the hall as best as he can, catching the attention of one of the maids, who he promptly stops in front of, suddenly much too aware of his own nakedness. She freezes, trying to keep her eyes on his face.

“What day is it?”

A lump grows on his throat. His own voice sounds foreign, like it’s coming from someplace else.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“What day is it? Today, what’s the date?”

“It’s the 17th. August 17.”

All he can do is nod, and make his back to his room as if the world hadn’t just fallen from his feet.

A day too late.

THE RAINBOW BAR & GRILL, SUNSET BOULEVARD, LOS ANGELES, SUMMER 1987

“Pinch me.”

There had been plenty of “pinch me” moments in those last few weeks. Eddie wasn't sure what Gareth meant, though, as he sat straighter against the cushion of their booth.

It was dark inside, and every surface gleamed red. From the cherry red booths to the bottles on the bar shelves, the dark wood on the walls, the chandeliers. He couldn't tell most people's faces, and they'd probably wanted it that way.

The line to get inside was turning the corner, the people there having a party within themselves, under the lights of Sunset Boulevard. It was loud, and bright, everywhere they went. Eddie thrived around it all.

He'd never felt more alive in his twenty-one years than in the months he had spent here.

The younger boy scooted closer to him, a glass of something colorful in hand. Courtesy of one of the girls whose booth he'd been sitting on until now, surely. Not he'd blame him, he'd lost count of the glasses he had himself, feeling light in his seat.

“Fucking”, the drummer hit him in the arm, pupils taking over the blue in his eyes, “pinch me, man!”

“What the fuck for?” He laughed at his friend’s tone.

“Do you see that?”

Gareth pointed forward to a booth a couple of tables from them. It was full, with mostly women, their teased up hair and flashy clothes demanding all the attention. As his friend pointed out, some of them looked over to them, waving with delicate fingers. Eddie waved back, throwing in a wink for good measure.

He'd easily feel intimidated with those eyes on him, but the alcohol in his body threw those inhibitions away.

“Those girls,” Gareth continued, “those beautiful girls, invited us to a private party at their apartment.”

Eddie nodded along while Gareth emphasized the words private and apartment. As if their intentions weren't obvious from the beginning of the night. He could see Grant on his seat, soaking up the attention from a blonde girl with her hand on his shoulder, and Jeff standing to the side, deep in conversation with a guy in a similar black leather jacket.

From afar, none of it looked real.

If he was being honest, he never thought he'd be living his father’s life this soon — or ever. Eddie wondered about it all the time. What was Al Munson doing when his mother was reading him to sleep back in Nashville, or later, when his uncle was working the late night shift to get both of them by.

The fame, the contacts, the booze, the money. The women. The more he learned, the less he knew.

All Eddie knew was that he promised himself he'd never turn out like his old man, a promise he'd made himself a long time ago, long before he landed in the City of Angels, but seeing what he'd seen in the small amount of time he'd spent there, he wondered if that was really possible.

Corruption seemed tempting, inevitable even, amongst the red and maroons of The Rainbow. Demons, sirens, and the small town boys drawn to them. Hell itself, in disguise.

“And,” Gareth continued, putting his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, grinning at him, “they asked me to call you over.”

Just as he thought. Tempting. Matching his friend’s grin, Eddie reached over to his arm and pinched it, hard. Gareth’s subsequent yelp was dulled by the loud music and chatting, and Eddie only grinned harder when the boy went for him.

They wrestled for a bit until the drummer pulled him from his seat and up, teasing him, “C’mon, man. You need to get laid”.

“You need to get laid! You're the one who's been begging for that secretary’s number. What’s her name again? J-”

He stopped on his tracks, pulling Gareth with him by his t-shirt.

While he was talking and his eyes were running across the bar, unable to pay attention to just one thing at once, he saw a familiar sitting in a booth at the other side of the room. A girl near his age, a familiar face.

She was sitting facing his way, beside a guy who had his arm around her shoulder. He looked slightly out of place in his neat black sweater and Ray-Ban glasses pushing his hair back. They looked expensive, the pair of them. Untouchable, in their own bubble.

They were talking to a girl who had her back to him, all Eddie could see was the back of her head, a blonde bob shaking as she gestured with her hands, wrapped in white lace gloves and gleaming silver rings.

The girl laughed, throwing her head back and into her friend’s — boyfriend’s? — shoulder and, in that moment, he knew exactly who she was.

Eddie’s vision tunneled, and he could hear Gareth beside him, whining for him to hurry up. He pushed his friend away, making a sign for him to go on without him.

Gareth rolled his eyes, mumbling something he did not understand — he might have told him he'd come later, but Eddie was too busy with his eyes on your table to decipher what came out of his own mouth.

As he approached with unsure steps, the sudden confidence that overtook him only lasting half of the way, until he saw your male friend — he wasn't about to think of him as your boyfriend, not yet, he needed to have some hope — and the girl stand.

He watched as the guy dragged his hand from your shoulder, to your elbow, and finally held your hand in his, leaving a kiss there before accompanying his other friend to the bar. Something burned and wilted inside of him, an ugly feeling he couldn't quite place.

That's my moment, Eddie thought, as he did before every single impulsive decision he ever took — and there wasn't a shortage of them.

His worn down boots, which in hindsight might once have been Wayne’s, carried him to your table. Your borderline bored stare made you even prettier from up close, as he tried to open his mouth and figure out what to say.

Instead, he could just watch as you drowned back the rest of your drink, and reached into your purse to light a cigarette. “What are you looking at?”, you asked, without looking at him yet.

His mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water, before gathering himself. “You're Ace’s daughter, aren't you? I saw you at his office.”

“Yes, and you're one of the label’s new hires who's still at that phase they're not ashamed to kiss ass.”

Finally, you turned, blowing the smoke in his direction. He barely felt it, really, because he was more focused on your smile, and the way your glossy lips stretched, and your nose scrunched.

Normally, he would have been pissed. But, with that face, you must have been used to stepping on people's toes and not getting heat because of it. He'd let you blow smoke directly on his face if it meant you'd keep looking at him.

You gestured vaguely to the seat in front of you, and he took the message. “Maybe. Am I kissing the right ass?” He grinned as he sat down.

No ring on your finger, he noticed, and maybe it was a good sign. He could be unbothered too. With the right amount of madness and a little Munson Magic, he could leave here with your number.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, but grinned back. “I'll have you know my ass is very demanding.”

“Noted.” He feigned seriousness. “I’m Eddie.”

“Munson, I know.”

Surprised, his eyebrows rose to his forehead. “How do you know?”

A chill ran down his spine at the mention of his last name. The curse he carried. Of course you'd know, your dad would know, even though he's never talked about it. Everyone knew.

“Dad isn't the only one in charge of business. At least not all of it.” You played with the piece of lime on your glass, and ran your finger through the rim, catching a bit of the salt there, licking it off your finger. “I know a thing or two.”

Right. All business, but no family.

You couldn't have been doing it on purpose. Eddie didn't think he was worth it, but the strain on his jeans said otherwise. He felt tense for more reasons than one.

“And you're not gonna tell me your name?”

“Thought you already know. Boy like you looks like he would do his homework.”

“Oh, no. A boy like me failed high school more times than I'd be comfortable sharing.”

He chuckled, and there it was again. Your laugh, freeing itself against the walls of the bar and bounced on him like a spell. “I like you, Eddie Munson.”

“Thought your ass was very demanding.” He quoted you, grinning from ear to ear, and tilting his head. “Was my kissing good enough?”

You put out your cigarette on the table and dropped the butt on your empty glass before looking straight into his eyes. Then, you got distracted by something happening behind him. He felt it too, and turned around to look.

The guy, your boyfriend-not-boyfriend, approached with no drinks in hand, despite coming from the direction of the bar, and no blonde friend in sight. He doesn’t acknowledge Eddie, keeping his eyes on you the whole time. “Who’s this?”

When Eddie turned back to you, you were already standing too. “New meat. Doesn’t know he’s swimming with sharks yet.”

You were talking like he wasn’t not there.

Inside, he deflates. He knew your type, your definitely-boyfriend’s type. The type who looked down on him, who thought little of his ambition. Eddie thought he could approach you, even though you were every bit as unapproachable as you looked. Things had changed for him, but that wouldn’t change regardless of where he stood. He was still at the bottom of the food chain, and you, taunting him at the very top.

It wasn’t like either of you were aware of it, but it had been nice to pretend for what little he could.

Didn’t change the fact that he still wanted you to look at him — and you did, for one last time that night, as the other guy laced his fingers with yours, and pulled you away, telling you something about an after party.

“Better work on that kissing, Eddie Munson.”

ALBATROSS RECORDS HQ, SAN FRANCISCO, 1990

Eddie has a lot to think of while he waits.

It seems like some kind of punishment, one parents would dish out on their small kids. Sit on that corner, face the wall, think of what you did. Think of what you did. It was easier to think of what he hasn’t done.

Missing an important concert because he was shitfaced and blacked out was the last drop, but that glass has been full for some time now.

Out of control, it's what he's been hearing. He'd seen his own face on MTV not too long ago, late at night on a grainy television, baring his tongue back at himself. He gives himself the devil horns like a crown, a silver cross hanging from his neck and sticking to his bare chest, as he addresses the camera from the stage before diving in the crowd. Out of control, they said.

He'd barely remembered that, or that the concert was being filmed. Figures.

Though, he had to agree someone in control wouldn't end up with as many bills for destroyed tour buses and hotel rooms in his name as he did. Someone in control wouldn't have been arrested for drug possession more than once, or have almost drowned in a hotel pool across the world. Or have lost the trust and admiration of his closest friends, and the contact with the only family he has.

His head aches. Eddie lifts his fingers to massage his temples, and sighs. It's August in California, and he's cold sweating in his seat, under his t-shirt. The chill gets worse when he hears the office’s door open behind him.

He doesn't turn around, doesn't move. The man approaches the table — his table — and loosens the collar of his dress shirt before sitting down, undoing his cufflinks and folding his sleeves up.

Ace Adler is a man of few words. He never talks much, but when he does, he makes sure one will listen. Eddie doesn't know much about him outside of talking business, other than Ace Adler was definitely not his real name, but he knew to take him seriously.

It felt like being in a room with his father, but at least his old man knew how to work a room before striking.

“I'm not going to tell you about the harm that you've done, but I'm sure your bandmates had the time to inform you.” Ace started, staring him down. “I won't tell you about the money we lost, and the contracts we had to humiliate ourselves to not lose, or what my business partners told me when they got the news. You must have a feeling it wasn't pretty.”

“I can…” Eddie started, and all he received was a raised hand in response.

“You'll talk when I'm done, son.”

A pause, much too long. Eddie nods, and keeps his eyes forward. It'll be worse if he doesn't meet his manager’s cold stare. His stomach drops.

“I won't tell you about any of it because that won't change a thing. All I'll tell you is that you got lucky, because I was supposed to fire you today, but someone changed my mind.”

“Fire me? Fire me from my own band?”

Ace doesn't answer his outburst. Instead, he slips a note from across the table in his general direction. It's a piece of ripped pink paper.

Tentatively, he opens it. There's all but a name and a phone number. Your name, and your phone number. You're using your real last name, he supposes, but that's undoubtedly you. Was that your handwriting too?

“Give her a call.” Ace says as he stands again, already on his way out. “Maybe she can help you out, because I won’t.”

As he hears your father close the door behind him once more, he thinks of all the last few times he saw you. The disdain in your eyes, the harsh words he uttered. Animosity from both sides, born from years of resentment.

He goes back to that first conversation. “Better work on that kissing, Eddie Munson.”

Never had he thought it would come that day.

[eddiernunson]

The Taste of You | Modern Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem Reader | 18 +

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: after attending a successful and rather sweaty concert from Corroded Coffin, you send the front man a rather thirsty DM on his instagram. You wake up to his response...and an offer to go backstage to follow through.

Warnings: lowkey unrealistic, alcohol, oral (f + m receiving), marking, begging (both), no protection, cream pie, use of aftercare

MINORS DNI

Based on my friend @bebe07011 going to a concert and DM'ing one of the band members (who looks a lot like Eddie) about how much she was enthralled by his performance and him responding back. This one's for you <3

Thank you so much to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you again for editing, you're my lifesaver.

-

You lean on the counter at work, distracted by your Instagram feed. Well, not distracted, per se. There are several more productive things you could be doing, but with your manager out on an errand and no customers to serve, there isn’t really anything stopping you. A post from Corroded Coffin comes up, a few images from their latest stop on tour. You can hardly prevent an excited squeal from escaping your lips, scrolling through their images, and rereading the end of the post over and over. ‘See you next, Indiana!’

You’ve been looking forward to this since buying tickets at the announcement of their tour nearly four months ago. It’s been a summer of anticipation; each post a countdown to your own concert date.

You discovered Corroded Coffin through suggestions from Spotify, the algorithm having picked up on your tastes in rock music and suggested a more modern band. Their music is good, you discovered. Their first album Freaks in the Streets came out about two years ago, and it’s raw in its talent but their latest album, Hell’s on Fire (And So Are You) shot them into stardom. You had it on repeat for months, and their lead guitarist being hot as he was had nothing to do with your fixation.

Okay, discovering Eddie Munson, (said lead guitarist) the main lyricist on the album, had everything to do with your fixation. Every late-night TV host offered a slot for them to play their music and Eddie’s charisma as he cheekily answers questions about his off-putting lyrics drove you into over-excitement mode. You can still hardly believe you're going to be able to watch his sweaty chest perform live.

Your concert date is tomorrow, and you have everything set up. You booked it off from work, got the perfect outfit, and the tickets are waiting on your apple wallet. You set your phone down, locking it. As always, the phone lights up when it faces up and you catch the image of the glistening sweat on Eddie’s chest during a performance from a tweet that went viral a few weeks ago, a photo you immediately saved for your phone. God, he’s mouthwatering. There were several hundred women in the retweets praising him as well, so, of course, there’s no chance in hell.

But it’s nice to fantasize.

-

You sit comfortably in the level 100 seats, dressed in a somewhat alternative outfit, high waisted black shorts with a fringe hanging off them, a chain on your belt loops, and a ripped crop top with the bands logo you found in an urban clothing store. You hold a beer in one hand and your phone in the other, recording the opening act as they sing to an audience that is only half paying attention.

Luckily, you know some of their songs on their short 8-song setlist, half-heartedly singing along but saving your voice for the main act. Though, you know your heart isn’t in it when you notice the placement of the jewels you glued to your temple is awkward. When you squint your eyes in a certain way they seem to threaten to fall off. Whatever, they were dollar store jewels, anyway.

The band finishes their less than overwhelming act, thanking the audience, and teasing them with the fact that the main act is backstage and apparently excited to put a show on for their home state. Somehow, it keeps escaping you that you happen to live about 60 miles away from where Eddie Munson grew up, Hawkins, Indiana. That place certainly had a reputation for itself.

You make small talk with your best friend, who is as excited as ever, if anything, to see your face when you melt to the floor. Natalie isn’t into their music like you are, but she can admit that their music is objectively good. Free concert and the power to tease you? Natalie is SO in. “What outfit you think he’s gonna wear tonight?” You shrug, sipping some wheat water. You don’t like beer, but the venue’s options when it comes to alcohol are…limited to say the least. Natalie leans in to you. “You think he’s gonna wear a shirt this time?”

You elbow her, your cheeks heating up. Some places he wears a shirt, and it’s a day of tragedy. Some places he comes out with his chest already bare, and it’s pure heaven. Although, he is known to rip a shirt off occasionally, and you have far too many videos of that saved on your phone. “I don’t know. We’ll find out when he comes out.”

You’re in the middle of a conversation about the politics of the latest show you’re watching together and the lights go down. An electric guitar is heard but out of sight. Subconsciously, you grab your friend’s forearm as your eyes widen in anticipation, your ass literally hovering on your chair as you’re at the edge of your seat. You hear her laugh, but you can’t focus as the lights on stage dramatically light up two at a time, and out of nowhere you can see the four band members, Eddie second to the left. Oh god, he’s wearing an open jacket with a metal chain. Holy shit.

You’re on your feet and screaming lyrics before you even know it.

The night goes by in a blur, and none of the videos you’ve seen online do Corroded Coffin any justice. Their online stage presence is unstoppable. And while Eddie was a large part of the crowd draw in, you watch as he interacts with each band member, using their energy to amplify his own. He really couldn’t do this without them, which is why he’s so insistent in every interview he’s given. Halfway through the show, Eddie does a quick run backstage, claiming his jacket was ‘too fucking hot’ and when he comes out in a fishnet shirt, the crowd goes absolutely nuts.

You sit in the back of a cab, buzzed and rewatching the multiple videos you’ve taken repeatedly, smiling giddily to yourself. “That was such a good show.” You mumble to yourself, sipping from the drink you promised to the cab driver you wouldn’t spill from. You’re so drunk you barely even notice the taste of the beer anymore.

The cab driver pulls up to the hotel and you drunkenly climb out, handing him four 20-dollar bills on the way, making sure he’s tipped well for having to put up with your drunk ass. He doesn’t seem to mind too much, but then again, you’re too busy rewatching your thirst caught in 4K to even notice. God damn, the video really doesn’t put his glistening chest any justice. It was even better in person. If you could just lick up his chest, you knew every problem in your life would be solved.

Your best friend laughs behind you, escorting you to the hotel room. As the hotel room door opens you just want to climb into bed and scroll through your phone, but Natalie makes you wipe off your make up and get dressed into some pajamas. You check your Instagram, Corroded Coffin’s post from tonight at the top of the feed. There were some high-quality shots of him in his fishnet shirt that you immediately save, going over to Eddie Munson’s personal Instagram from where he’s tagged in the post.

God, he must get hundreds of DMs in a day. One raindrop doesn’t affect the ocean. I wanna lick the sweat off your chest so fucking bad just gimme a chance. Your thumb hovers over the send button, but you’ve sent several messages to celebrities before, and they never respond. So, you hit send, and you’re asleep within minutes, your lamp still lit next to you as the water from the shower in the bathroom less than ten feet away from you lulls you into a deep sleep.

-

Your 10AM alarm rings, yanking you out of a deep sleep.  If you could, you’d spend the next ten hours sleeping to shake off the hangover, but you've gotta get up to have time to pack up and get changed before check out. You can shower tonight at home. As you sit up on your bed, dismissing the alarm, the headache kicks in, making you groan. Oh, fuck, are you hungover.

You check your phone quickly, and as you scroll down your notifications, you triple check a notification just to make sure you’re reading it right. At first, you’re confused. Why would he be messaging you? Your eyes widen as you promptly yeet your phone to your friend's bed when you remember what the fuck you sent to him last night. You curl in on yourself with your knees up against your chest and your hands over your mouth in disbelief.

Natalie comes out of the bathroom after hearing your phone bounce off the bed and land on the floor. “Whoa,” Natalie breathes, seeing your stunned stature. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, shellshocked.

“Okay, can you at least tell me what happened? You’re kind of freaking me out here.”

“I sent a really, really thirsty message to Eddie Munson last night and I saw a notification saying he responded.” You admit, no higher than a whisper.

“What?!” Natalie nearly shouts, a bit loud in the quiet morning of the small hotel. “Well then open it and read it! What did he say?”

“I’m scared too look!” You admit, grabbing a pillow and holding it close to your chest.

Natalie grabs your pillow and tosses it to the side, her wet blonde hair shining prettily in the morning sun. “Get up, you big baby! Open the goddamn message!”

Fuck, Natalie’s right. Doesn’t mean you liked it. You bend to pick your phone up, sitting next to her on the bed as you open your Instagram notification. Fuck, he responded only fifteen minutes after your message. “Oh you sent him a very thirsty message.”

“Look what the fuck he wrote back.” You whisper, eyes wide as your heart pounds out of your chest.

apricothamster147: I wanna lick the sweat off your chest so fucking bad just gimme a chance.

eddiemunson: Well, damn baby, are you still in town for tonight’s show? Come backstage and we’ll see about making that happen. (Send me ur email for tix)

“Holy shit.” Natalie mutters out loud, her eyes bugging to his response as well. “Well? Are you gonna accept?”

You chortle, holding your hand out to her comically. “Do you have enough money for another night?”

Natalie shrugs. “I have my dad’s credit card.”

“Are you allowed to use it?”

“Only when I need it.”

“Shit.”

“Honestly, girl, you need it. Go ahead, send him your email, I’ll get us another night.”

Your thumbs move fast, hoping his offer wasn’t due to a lack of sobriety or a glitch in the Matrix. If you’re still accepting my offer, my email is apricothamster417@gmail.com. You add a heart emoji just to be safe and send off a message to him.

Your best friend is in the middle of a phone call with her father to get him to call the front desk. They would only accept the credit card if they could speak to him. “Thank you!” Natalie hangs the phone up, looking at you. “Hotel is taken care of!”

You’re lying on your bed at this point, still in your pajamas with your palms stacked on your forehead. “What the fuck am I even gonna wear?”

“You brought multiple outfits, right?” Natalie asks you, sitting on her bed and laying down now that she no longer has to get ready to leave.

“Yeah, I brought some back-ups.” You sit up quickly, eyes wide. “I need your expertise in styling it, though. I have to look hot.”  

Natalie sits up as well, serious as she can be. “Oh sweetheart, he won’t know what hit him.”

-

An hour into her crusade, styling your hair, your phone lights up in a notification. Your phone is closer to her, so you ask her to check it, Natalie knows your passcode, anyway. You know what it is immediately based on the expression you see on her face in the mirror. “Did he respond?”

“Yes!” Natalie answers, placing the hot tool down and putting the freed hand over her mouth.

“Oh my god, gimme that!” You respond, too impatient to wait for her to calm down.

eddiemunson: See you tonight (with a winky emoji)

“Oh my fucking god.” You let out, and suddenly it occurs to you that you’re seeing him in concert again. There’s even a slight possibility of you meeting him, however slim that he may remember to even do it.

A notification from your gmail rings, and you see ticketmaster. You hit it hard, seeing First Name, ‘Unknown’ Last Name, ‘Stranger’ has gifted you two VIP Floor Tickets with Back Stage passes, apparently just scanning the barcode will get you backstage. No. It wasn’t…no. This isn’t real. You stared off into the distance, eyes up from your phone. This doesn’t happen…

“Babe!”

You’re snapped out of it, realizing you zoned out in disbelief. “I’m just…a little in shock.”

Natalie smirks at you, tilting your chin on her fingertips gracefully. “Well now we know it’s fucking real, so let’s party hard, babe!”

Your eyes roll at her antics, but you love them. “Thanks for asking your dad.”

“Bitch, what’s a rich daddy good for if not for my friends?” Natalie laughs, starting to use the iron on your hair again.

Your makeup is done, rhinestones on the inner corners of your eyes, and you're wearing fishnet tights under a jean skirt and an oversized Corroded Coffin band tee. You usually used it as a sleep shirt, but Natalie insists it would work its magic.

Butterflies invade your stomach as soon as your black boots hit the pavement outside the hotel, the sunset cascading across the sky in a beautiful haze of orange and pink. As your thighs feel uncomfortable against the fabric of the cab, you hope your insides will feel as nice as the outside looks right now.

You pay your cab, all on the card, and get out, your stomach in knots. Well, it's now or never. Hesitantly, you hold your phone out for your ticket scanner on the main floor and she approves, giving you the thumbs up. “Wait.” the ticket scanner holds her hands out when she notices the big red letters, BACKSTAGE PASSES. You think you’re in trouble when you’re both handed the Backstage Pass Lanyards, decorated with the Corroded Coffin logo.

This is where you start to believe that you might’ve died last night with alcohol poisoning because there’s no way in Gods’ Green Earth is this real.

You both thank the attendant and walk to your seats, front and center, third row back. You could see the scratches on the sticker on the speakers from the inspector in the factory. Damn, were you close. “We’re going to go deaf.” Natalie comments, a half smile on your face. “Need a drink?”

“Please.” You answer, eyes wide. Natalie laughs and gets up to walk towards the bar, which is much less crowded around in the VIP section of the floor. Fucking wild.

You hold your phone and sing along to some more of the opening act's songs tonight, now gaining some familiarity with it. They’re great musicians, but they’re just not on Corroded Coffin’s level yet. They definitely have the potential to get there.

Their set list ends, and you notice that the lead singer is close enough for you to see the beads of sweat on his forehead.

Oh god, you’re going to die.

Natalie tries to keep you entertained by chatting about anything she can, but it does so little to prevent time from crawling by at a snail's pace.

Your phone buzzes in your hand, and it’s a message from him. Wish Me Luck! You swear up and down it’s immediately after when the lights go down and the guitar starts playing off stage. Did he really just text you right before he started his show? Did that really just happen?

If there’s one thing about being in the third row with little to no one to block your view, it’s that no amount of high quality photos on twitter will ever amount to the real thing less than ten feet away. The sweat that drips down his leather vest for the night is mouth watering, the dark eyes in his expression as he performs hypnotizes you. You sing the lyrics, and jump and dance and occasionally drink, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t tear your gaze away from him.

And for a few moments, it’s like he holds your eye contact. No, that’s crazy. Nothing is happening. He has a million other girls to choose from, why would he choose you?

The concert happens in a blur, Eddie flings off the vest about halfway through the show, splashing some of his hair with his sweat. Your friend laughs at the sharp inhale that leaves your chest as you watch it. Man, he really had you in his clutches.

Eddie holds his arms out for his band as they close off the last song, all bowing together. “Thank you, Indiana! You’ve been a fucking fantastic crowd, thank you!”

“You ready?” Natalie asks you, holding out her lanyard cheekily.

“Nope.” You admit, taking a large gulp of the beer you barely touched. “After another beer I might be.”

“You really wanna meet him tipsy?” Natalie asks, raising her eyebrows at you.

“I don’t wanna be afraid to say anything!” You shoot back, leading her to the bar. You buy another one, and it’s down your throat within five minutes. You inhale deeply, wiping your face off from the excess beer around your mouth. “Does my mouth smell like beer?” You ask, suddenly worried.

“If you have to ask, I think you already know.” Natalie tells you, patting your back and leading you to the sign that says BACKSTAGE in all caps with an arrow pointing left.

A big security personnel blocks the big black curtain to the backstage area. You hold out your lanyard to him, and he gruffs as he holds his hand out for it. He takes a scanner to check out its legitimacy, and once both lanyards are in the clear, his face breaks into a smile, stepping aside to allow you through. It's almost comical.

The backstage area is busier than you had expected, arrows pointing you to where the visitors go, narrowly avoiding the crew as they bustle around. You both walk into a large area where several band members talk to friends or family, all sporting towels to dab their sweat away.

“Oh my god thank you for sending that DM.” Natalie whispers to you, looking around while starstruck. “I’m sure half these people aren’t even celebrities, but this is so cool! I’m going to go and mingle, you stick around for—”

You grab her by the collar, “Don’t you dare leave me alone here.”

“Ok, how bout we both grab some food? Maybe sober up?”

“Only because I’m hungry and free food tastes the best.”

You’re slowly picking at the fruit tray when you hear someone near you call out, “Eddie! My man!” You turn around to face him, the half-eaten strawberry you drop landing on the plastic tray loudly. You quickly finish the fruit and watch as he hugs his bandmate. “What, no shower, bro? You stink!”

The room echoes in laughter, and you join them. He does stink, and he stinks marvelously. The very scent makes you salivate. His laughter, it’s even better in person. He’s never laughed like this in any interview, all calm and toned down for the camera. This is genuine, heartfelt laughter.

You turn around to lean on the table, Jesus you need to calm yourself. Seeing him up close is sending a heat to your center that you're going to need to resolve quickly.

“Fancy seeing you, here.” His voice sends a shiver down your spine, barely five feet away. You turn and face him, your breath knocking out of your chest. Words cannot describe how little all of the photos in the world do him any justice. He is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

“Thanks for i-inviting me.” You answer, gulping at the slight shine his sweat still gives him. “You’re a really great performer…” You find yourself distracted by his chest. He’s probably going to get all sticky soon… he smelled even better up close…

“I’m gonna go mingle.” Natalie says, pointing towards a crowd of people talking to the band members. “Text me to let me know if you’re meeting me at the hotel.” Natalie gives a shy smile to Eddie and walks away before you could answer.

“Thank you.” He nods his head, giving you a smirk. Then, the unthinkable happens as he uses his thumb and pointer finger to lift your chin to capture your eyes with his own. How are they so pretty? “Are you going to make do on your promise?”

You gulp, your eyes flickering down to his pink lips. You’ve stared at his lips, how many times now? You nod slowly, peering up at him through your lashes.

“Let’s go somewhere a bit more quiet, then.” He offers, extending his hand for you.

You take it silently, his rough hands feeling warm and rough, but perfect. He leads you about ten steps down the hall, a doorway marked with his name over the words Dressing Room. As the door shuts behind him, he locks it, flinging his towel across the room. “C’mere.” He offers, extending his hand to you. You follow his instructions, sitting next to him on the couch. “You haven’t said a goddamn word, yet your message said fucking everything. Is the pretty girl shy?” He asks, thumb caressing your cheek.

You nod your head, gulping as his touch lights your skin on fire. “I—I was six drinks in when I sent you that message. …I wouldn’t have even remembered unless you replied.” You admit, leaning into his touch.

“C’mon baby, let’s see it.” You raise your eyebrows, inquisitively, wondering what he meant. “Your message! Couldn’t stop thinking about my after-show treat all day, a pretty girl begging to lick up my sweat. Show me.”

You nod to him, your near trembling hands reaching out for his chest. Eddie nods, a wild look in his eyes that nearly has you passing out. A loud exhale leaves your body as your hands reach out and reach contact with his chiseled, tattooed, chest, some sweat beads still lingering. How, you weren’t sure. Your eyes rake across his chest, taking in every tattoo you can, your heartbeat racing faster as you lean in, to finally, finally, rake your tongue up from his stomach to his chest, breathing heavily when the taste of the salt and his pure essence is even better than you imagined.

“Holy shit, she’s a fucking freak.” Eddie mutters, you feel his breath getting shallower under your mouth working on him.

You lean in again, nails digging into his skin as you give another long stripe across his skin, the taste of salt and delicious B.O. on your tongue and you let out a sigh of contentment. You crawl up to his collarbones, having noticed a pool of his sweat there gathered while he was performing.

Your tongue slides into the dip, moaning at the salty taste. Your teeth graze the bone, nibbling a little to leave little tiny bruises. You can’t wait to save the HQ pictures with these marks.

You leave one last long stripe on his treasure trail, having stared at many photos where his pants sit low. You’re nuzzling at it, breathing it in when you can feel him. Holy shit, Eddie Munson’s cock is only inches from your face.

You look up at him, and the back of his palms are connected to his forehead, his cheeks flushed, and his chest heavily breathing. He looks down to meet your gaze, and suddenly he sits up, grabs your face and plants a wet kiss to your lips. Your entire body tenses up, barely able to believe that it's real. Your brain eventually catches up, responding in kind, crawling so your bodies fit closer. Eddie pushes you back lightly before you get too close, having you lie down on his couch.

“Can I, sweetheart?” He asks, moving down to where your cunt has been begging for attention.

“A-are you sure? I don’t mind just sucking you off.”

He chuckles, leaning in for another kiss. “Oh baby, you just earned so much more than that.”

Eddie trails down your body, placing kisses on your exposed neck, lifting your shirt lightly as his hands move to cup your tits. You whimper in kind. “Baby, do you know what it’s like having the most gorgeous woman in the world offer to lick sweat off you? If you just give her a chance? I saw your picture you posted from the concert and fuck, you’re a goddamn smoke show. Those eyes, your gorgeous tits, your thighs, oh my god, baby, your thighs.” He talks through wet kisses trailing down your body until he’s face to face with your jean skirt.

He pulls twice, asking permission. You place your hands on your button to undo it and Eddie playfully swats your hands away. Your skirt is pulled off your body, leaving the fishnet tights and your thoroughly soaked panties. He leans in between your thighs, and your thigh muscles slightly convulse as you feel his hot breath against it. “Shh, haven’t even touched you yet, baby.” He hushes you, his big hands gracing your thighs gently. He leans in and you can’t tell what he’s doing until he starts pulling down, and you notice one of the strings from the tights in his mouth. He can’t seem to pull them off like he wants to, and after a last try he gets frustrated, ripping them off, instead. “There, that’s fucking better.”

You let out a tiny giggle, and then you feel so exposed to him, your lacy panties drenched as he stares between your legs.

If you told yourself this would be happening 24 hours ago you’d call yourself insane…or a silly goose. You were incredibly inebriated.

He flings the fishnets across the room and reaches out to touch your soaked panties, the touch inducing a whimper from you. “You’re soaked, huh, baby?” He murmurs, petting along your panties gingerly. You whimper in response, your hips lifting to meet his delicate touch more firmly. He chuckles, watching your face all scrunched up. “If you want me to touch you, beg for it.”

“Eddie, fucking touch me please, want it so bad.”

“Yeah, you want me to fuck you with my fingers, baby?”

You nod, starting to hopelessly grind your hips up. “So fucking bad, please.”

He smiles, watching the outline of your pussy as you get wetter. Without warning, he hooks his fingers around your waist band and tugs it down, and suddenly you find yourself exposing your pussy to the man who took most of your gallery's storage space on your phone. The way he looks at your pussy is damn divine. His eyes darken with lust, pink lips shine with spit, and his cheeks flush; it makes you want to close your legs in embarrassment.

They stay open, because you’re afraid to move, this must be a dream. This is too fucking good to be real.

“Fuck, I knew your pussy would be pretty, but I didn’t know a pussy could be this fucking gorgeous, look at you.” He rambles, you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy. He places a thumb gently on your slick, stroking lightly up and down, the sensation sending fire rippling across your skin. He sees your thigh shake the littlest bit. “Feel good?”

It does, but you want so much more from him. “Mmm hmm.” You answer, toes flexing with anticipation.

“Do you need something?” He asks, stroking your lips too lightly, not necessarily getting closer to anything. He just narrowly avoids your clit, watching you squirm as your eyebrows furrow lightly.

“I need more-I need more.” You choke out, your hips desperately rutting against his fingers. “I want you to touch me harder, or move faster, I need more.”

Eddie chuckles, hardly believing how much better you had turned out to be. “You need more? Okay, sure. I can give more.” He leans in to lick a stripe right on your neglected clit, and your hips rut up in surprise, a yelp of pleasure jumping out of your throat. It doesn’t even phase Eddie, now that he's tasted you, he doesn’t want to let go. “How do you taste so fucking good?” He asks, his voice low and husky. “Doesn’t make any fucking sense, this should be a fucking crime.”

You moan, hips grinding up against him, head back in pure ecstasy. “Your sweat shouldn't taste so good. I could bottle it like ketchup and eat it on everything.” You admit, your fingers flexing as a wave of heat runs right through you.

Eddie barely lets up, even as the sentence makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. He pumps one of his digits into you, a ringed finger, no less. Your jaw drops as he fucks into you, the hot pool of pleasure in your stomach starting to form. It's the best this has ever felt by a long shot.

Eddie continues to attack you, adding a second finger as his tongue swirls over your clit repeatedly. “Eddie…fuck…so good.” You can barely talk, your bliss radiating in every extremity. “K…Keep doi’ tha’…”

He stares up at pride at your cocked out expression, panting heavily as you feel yourself on the brink. Out of nowhere Eddie picks up his speed into hyperdrive, and you fucking keel over him, high whines escaping your throat as one hand flies into his hair and the other on the couch’s arm rest to keep you grounded.

The orgasm hits you slowly but leaves your thighs shaking underneath him in its wake. It's the best goddamn orgasm you’ve ever had. Eddie continues to place kisses on your pussy, licking up your cum from your entrance, seemingly quite satisfied with his hard work.

You're breathing heavily, looking up at him desperately through half open eyes. “You have to let me suck your cock, please Ed.”

He gives you a half smirk, you’re barely recovered and you’re begging to suck his dick? Did he win the lottery? “No, I need to feel that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock before I cum from the sounds you’re making, alone.”

You lift your heavy head up in confusion. “Sounds?”

“Have you heard what you sound like when you cum? If I had the patience, I’d be making you cum here, all night, but I fucking don’t. I need to know what the fuck your pussy feels like.” Eddie admits, and his voice sounds desperate.

You let your head fall back down, your legs falling down in unison, spread eagle. You shoot a smirk at him. “What if I told you to beg for it?”

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, and you see a light flicker on in his eyes.

“Beg for my pussy, Eddie. Wanna hear that pretty voice.”

Eddie grins widely, fuck, you just keep getting better. “Please, baby. Please. Let me fuck that tight, perfect pussy of yours. Please let me feel those hot, warm walls fucking pulse around me while I give it to you hard and well, just like she deserves.”

It's more than you could ever hope for, but you find yourself feeling greedy. “Hmm…not desperate enough. You don’t really sound like you want to fuck me all that badly.”

To this Eddie actually whines and groans in frustration. “C’mon, baby, please. Let me fuck you, I will do anything to feel that perfect cunt around my cock.”

Your legs hitch around his hips, pulling him in so his hard on in his jeans meets your bare pussy. You lean into his ear, inhaling his shampoo. “If you let me mark up your neck so I can have all those petty bitches be jealous of me at your next show, then go right ahead.”

“Oh, fuck, deal.” Eddie yanks his belt and his jeans and underwear off in one fell swoop, and the sight of his cock is better than anything you could’ve imagined. He kicks them off smoothly, lining himself up with you again in a matter of minutes. “Shit, you want a condom?” He asks, used to fucking bare back.

“I’m on birth control.” You tell him as he hovers over you.

“Oh that’s a good girl.” He mutters, leaning in to kiss at your neck. “You ready?”

“Fuck me, already, Ed, I’ve been ready since this morning.” Eddie chuckles and he slides himself in, the head of his cock burning only slightly, but feeling fantastic. “Oh, oh my god.”

“Fuck…” He grunts, waiting for your go ahead. “Better than I thought you’d feel. God, is this heaven?”

You giggle in response, your pussy pulsating around him in beat. “Your cock…so fucking full.” Eddie lifts his hips experimentally, and you let out a gasp at the burn and the pure pleasure it sends through you. “More.” You choke out when he doesn’t continue right away.  

Eddie doesn’t hesitate to listen to your request, your arms wrapped around his back as you clutch onto him for dear life. He ruts into you harshly, his hips snapping as it hits your g spot intentionally at every rut.

Your mouth seems like it’s trying to form words, but your head is so foggy by the time you open your mouth, the sentence is nowhere to be found. “Look at this cock drunk little slut.” Eddie laughs, watching your fucked out face.

Your hands tug on him, forcing his chest closer to your mouth. He lets his arms buckle down, slowing his pace down as his face finds refuge in the smell of your hair, while you start sucking lightly on his chest, leaving little bite marks. As you suck on his chest, your pussy sucks him in simultaneously, causing Eddie to moan from both sensations you were giving him.

Eventually, you have purpled your way across his chest, admiring your hard work as he continues moving slowly over you. “Eddie, can you go faster again?”

“Sure, baby. Be a good girl and turn onto your hands and knees.” You listen and turn around, tilting your ass up so it’s easy for him to slide in. “Oh, thank you, baby. Now lift your head up.” You do and he yanks on your hair, pulling a good chunk at the root. “That’s good.” He puts himself back in you, causing a guttural moan to leave your lips.

“Eddie…” You gasp out, the first hit surprisingly harsh against your hips. Not a part of you remotely minds, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as Eddie seemingly fucks you as hard as he can.

“You wanna still blow me, baby? Because I’m about to blow…” Eddie doesn’t have to say another word, you getting up and onto your knees on his animal carpet to wrap your lips around his cock and bob your head. “Use that pretty mouth…”

The feeling of you choking on it, your mouth desperately trying to take his whole length sends him over the edge. Eddie moans loudly, and you do everything you can to memorize this moment for the rest of your life, because nothing will top this.

Your mouth is overloaded with his thick cum, and one last load shoots out of him onto your face as your mouth pops off him, and ok, now nothing will top this.

He’s breathing heavily, staring down at the white shiny substance that made it’s way all over your nose and lips, some dripping down your chin to land on your tits. You start to gather it on your fingers, dipping it onto your tongue like it’s donut frosting. You hum to yourself at the salty taste, looking up at him through your eyelashes for approval.

“Shit, ain’t that a sight.” Eddie mutters, watching as you hopelessly attempt to clean yourself up before his cum goes everywhere. “Here, hold on.” Eddie yanks on a pair of low sweats and grabs something, walking towards the sink in the dressing room. He walks up to you and cleans his mess off your face and your tits, his hands behind the warm cloth gentle. He tosses it to god knows where and grabs one of the waters from his mini fridge.

He hands you the water and watches you as you slowly come back to yourself, the haze in your eyes raising. Your phone buzzes on the table next to the couch, and Eddie picks up the phone to give it to you and you call out to stop him a moment too late.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at your choice of wallpaper, it couldn’t be interpreted as anything other than thirst. The sweat glistening, his hand holding the microphone delicately, his face looking rather passionate about what he was singing about. Damn, that's a good photo, Eddie thinks. “So, did I just check something off your bucket list?” He asks, holding your phone out before tossing it to you.

You get up from your knees on wobbly legs, still needing some water, apparently. “Uh,” you take a sip, wondering how to answer as a wide smile settles on your face. On the one hand, you’re embarrassed. On the other, he had to know how viscerally thirsty you were after him. “No. I just did my bucket list.” You answer, taking another sip of your water as you stand in front of him, still head to toe naked. “Didn’t think I’d get this far.”

Eddie laughs at this, the same genuine laughter you heard from earlier.

You walk around the couch, bending over to locate your skirt.

“Lookin' for something?” Eddie asks, playfully pushing your buttons.

“My skirt…” you answer, peering across the room at this point.

“Can I be honest?” He asks, peering over your shoulder comically as you look around.

“Hmm?”

Eddie’s hands land your bare hips, tugging them backward so his boner hits your ass. “I could go for round 2.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” You whisper, turning around to face him. Eddie guides you, your steps messy as you back up to his vanity, a few brushes and the eyeliner he sports scattered. He lifts you easily onto it, your legs wrapping around his torso, pulling him in. You can’t tell when he removed his sweats, but the head of his cock unexpectedly against your heat already pulls a high whine out of you, sighing in relief. “Put it back in.”

“Fuck, don’t need to ask me twice.” He mumbles, lining himself up.

Your jaw drops as he pushes himself in, watching with a heavy chest as Eddie stares down at the sight of his cock entering your slick, a gulp leaving his mouth. “Holy shit, baby.” He mutters, exhaling as he bottoms out, his eyes closing. “How have I already forgotten how good your pussy is around me?”

Your breathing is shallow, watching with heavy eyelids as Eddie closes his eyes to seemingly gain his composure. “Eddie.” You whimper, your legs around his torso tightening. “You’re the…the hottest person I’ve literally ever seen in my life. Nothing will compare to this.”

You can feel his cock twitch in response, and you flutter around him as if to second it.

“Good.” Eddie grunts out, moving ever so slowly, eliciting a whimper from you. “Nothing better fucking compare, your pussy is too good for that shit.” His tongue sweeps a long lick in the crook of your neck, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as it feels dirty, in the best way. “May I return the favour?”

You’re about to ask when you realize his question is rhetorical, and you feel his teeth start to nibble, bite, and suck hard at your throat. He feels you suck him in as you breathe out little whimpers, the relief of his tongue against your skin followed by more stinging of his teeth working on you was everything, your nails scratching down his back in an involuntary response.

“Eddie…” you moan, head tilted back in ecstasy, nearly colliding with his mirror. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Baby, fuck.” He mutters, his breath hot against your neck. “I wanna mark you up everywhere.” You fucking tighten up in response, drawing a nearly cruel laugh from him. “Yeah? You like that?”

“Uh huh…” You admit, the feeling of his hips slowly drawing in and out of you and his hot breath on your chest becoming too much, but perfect at the same time.

His tongue makes its way further down to your tit, one hand rubbing your sternum desperately as his teeth work expertly on your bud. He’s not too harsh with it, knows the exact amount of pressure to make it hurt in the best fucking way. “So fucking pretty, baby.” He mutters, his hips starting at a faster rate. He lets off your tit with a pop after sucking on it gently, admiring the bruising that’s starting to take shape across your sweaty form.

You can do nothing but cling to him, all coherent thoughts gone the moment he started sucking on your collarbone sharply.

“Got any…any summer plans?” Eddie asks, out of breath. He moves a leg over his shoulder to get a better angle, deeper than before.

You let out a gasp of pleasure, the sound nearly feral. “Y-you.”

Eddie laughs, his ringed hand rough as he grabs at your thigh on his chest. “Oh fuck baby, I’m close again, your pussy is so fucking good.”

“Cum in me.” It almost sounds like you're begging. 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead, his jaw dropping comically as he takes in your request. “Fuck, you sure?”

“Want you to fill me up, Eddie. Please.” You plead, and who is he to deny such a pretty girl?

“Gonna cum with me, pretty girl?” He asks, watching in marvel as you look more and more cocked out. You pull on him, yanking his lips to yours. You kiss him wantonly, deeply, all teeth and tongue as you do your best to express what you cannot with words. You don’t have a big enough vocabulary for the moment, anyhow. Eddie takes the lead and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, drawing a high whine out of you. “Gonna answer me?”

The edge is so close, an all encompassing heat invading your lower stomach as a palm of his hand toys with one of your nipples. Suddenly you’re aware this could be the last time you ever get the chance, so you sweep one last lick on his chest, lapping at the fresh coat of sweat like it was your first drink of water after a long week in the desert.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna—” He doesn’t even finish his sentence, his hips stuttering as you feel his sticky ropes of cum fill you up so deliciously.

In his haze, his fingers latch to your clit, expertly working on it in small circles to send you over your edge as well, your pussy fluttering perfectly around him.

The smell of sex in his dressing room is evident, the air thick as you both catch your breath. Your leg falls down off his shoulder like a weight is stored in it, your foot landing harshly on the linoleum tiles of the stadium. Your head rests against his chest, eyes closed as you breathe in the stench of his sweat. You need to memorize everything you can, sure you’re about to be escorted back to the main party.

Eddie surprises you, his hands soft as they cup your face, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. His mouth is gentle as he works it against yours, the light taste of pre-show alcohol on his breath. He methodically uses the kiss to distract you as he pulls out, but you still whine desperately into his mouth from the loss. A laugh escapes his lips, and you swallow it, still needing his gentle kiss. He finally separates from you, kissing your forehead as his thumb caresses your cheek.

“So…are you?” He asks, taking in your fucked-out face. Maybe you’ll let him take a post sex selfie if you reject him to remember you by.

If. There’s no way on this earth you would ever reject him, but of course, Eddie doesn’t know you’ve been stalking his Instagram.

“Hmm?” You ask, not a thought in your head for the moment.

“Doing anything this summer?”

You shake your head no, gulping. Eddie saunters around his dressing room, grabbing his sweats and another white cloth. He returns to situate himself between your legs, sporting his sweats, the hot cloth causing you to yelp in surprise.

He laughs quietly, a fond smile on his face as he continues to clean up the mess he left in you. At least, you think it’s fond. “You feel like following a ragtag band of misfits around for the summer?” He asks you, voice soft as he holds your eye contact while his hand moves idly.

“Ragtag?” You ask, remembering their electric energy. They’re rockstars, no doubt about it. There’s not one person who can deny that they earned their spot on the stage.

Eddie breathes another laugh, tossing his cloth to the side. “We are as ragtag as it gets, doll.”

You sigh, searching those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes for any signs he was joking. “I-I will quit my job…are you serious?”

He laughs, caressing your forearm. It occurs to him you’re still naked, so he walks to the couch to gather your shirt and skirt. “Dead serious. I can’t let a face like yours and a pussy like that go very easily.”

“Okay…” you answer, your heartbeat loud in your chest. You were so sure this was just a one-time (two rounds) thing that the idea of him wanting more of you never even occurred to you. It’s just too good to be true, no one is this lucky. “If I quit my job, I can’t afford to pay my own way…”

Eddie smiles, handing you your clothes. “If you don’t want to wear that skirt, I can get you some sweats from the merch table.” He offers, before sitting on the chair a few feet down from you. “Baby, I’m on the cover of Rolling Stone. You’ll be fine.”

Your jaw drops open, staring openly at the man as he watches your facial expression. “I’ll need to go and pack up…”

“Babe.” He stops you, getting up to hold your shoulders with his hands. “I don’t even know your name, yet.”

“Y/N”

He lets out an exhale, fuck, that makes sense. “I didn’t even know your name, and all I know is if I let you go then I will never be able to get you out of my mind. Whatever is stopping you, I can throw some money at it or call someone to get it done. Do you want to stay with me?”

“Yes.” It leaves your body in a sigh of relief, like coming home. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead; you can feel his lips moving upward into a smile. “Also, sweatpants sound really nice.”

Eddie saunters over to a walkie you hadn’t noticed. In fact, you start to look around his dressing room, noticing a duffle bag by a rack with empty hangers, half opened bottles of water, and his phone sitting faced down at a table nearby. When he asks for your size, you provide it, putting the graphic tee over your head. He plops down on the couch, waving you over to sit right next to him. “Need to text your friend?” He asks, teasing you.

“Actually, can I invite her in? Natalie’s my best friend and she won’t let me live this down if I send her back without bringing her in to introduce you.”

Eddie shrugs, starting to pat his pockets for his phone. You grab it on your way to sit next to him, falling easily into his arm. “Yeah, sure, if you’re ready for her to tease the shit out of you.”

“Are you kidding?” You ask, somewhat giddy. “I’m about to go on twitter after your next show and see dozens of people asking where the hell you got your hickeys. Nothing can bring me down from that right now.”

Eddie chuckles, crossing one leg over the other in an L shape. He plants a kiss on your lips, his tongue sweeping against yours delicately. “Fuck, I’m so glad you fucking DM’ed me.” There’s a knock on the door, your sweatpants from the merch stand are delivered.

“You have no idea how much I keep thinking I’m about to wake up.” You confess, your fingers playing with the light stubble on his chin. “Thank god for cheap stadium beer.” The laugh that escapes him is melodic and gorgeous. “Thank god for cheap stadium beer.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken

[sugarsfics]

You're My New Pillow

Summary: Eddie is tired and finds his new pillows 

Trope: Rockstar!Eddie x Plus!size!reader 

Warning: Kissing small sexual mentions because it is rockstar!eddie, being tired, metal image problems, cussing, 

Word count: 900

30 Day Challenge: Day 1  Send requests <33

Eddie has been up since 4 this morning. His manager wanted tonight to be perfect it was their first-time playing Madison Square Garden. Eddie has told you during your late-night conversations that it has always been his dream to play there because that’s how you know you made it. You were able to capture the moment when he saw it big letters CORRODED COFFIN TONIGHT 8 MADISON SQUARE GARDEN he was teary eyes and smiles. All day they have been rehearsing, doing should check, getting a feel for the stage. You could see in his eyes how tired he was, but he didn’t feel it, he was too excited. When they had their lunch break his eyes would drupe a little as he lay on your shoulder. 

“Honey, I think you should take a nap” you said has you rubbed his shoulders “I’m ok pretty girl” “But-” “Here take this” Jeff said and handed him an energy drink. “Thanks man” he takes it and chug it. You look at him with worried eyes I hope he will be fine for tonight. Their manager comes in to bring them out to their last practice before the concert. Even with tired eyes Eddie still looked amazing. When the first manager tells them they have 1 hour till they start getting ready. You walked with Eddie to his dressing room and past a window all you could see was a sea of people. “Wow” Eddie breathed “Their all here for you my rockstar” “Wow” was all he could say in that moment. You helped him get ready, not wanting him to be doing anything to get him tired. You were on his lap doing his eyeliner when you said “I am so proud of you” red spread across his cheeks, you could resist and kiss those red cheeks making them redder “Are you sure you don’t want to take a quick nap” “I’m *yawn* fine” “You just yawn in the middle that” “I” he breathed “I just don’t want to fall asleep then miss it all” “You won’t I will wake you up” “Yea but what if you fall asleep then we miss it” poor boy was so scared to miss his moment so you didn’t pressure him anymore. 

You helped Eddie get changed then started to get yourself ready. You put on a distressed black long sleeve with a red skirt with a belt, ripped tights (that Eddie may or may not have ripped) your trusty pair of docs and completed the look with dark makeup. You look at yourself in the mirror, you tried not to look at the rolls that were hanging or the pudge of your stomach. Eddie always praised you, he always called you a goddess, you tried and tried to see yourself through his eyes, but you couldn’t. You wiped your tears hurrying out the bathroom before you changed your mind. When you walked out your eyes met with Eddie’s he scanned you his eyes lit up then he fell to his knees and started bowing with his hands forward saying “I'm not worthy I'm not worthy” you giggled “Get up dork” “Damn” he bit his hand “How did I get so fuckin lucky, you look amazing” “I don’t-” he brought his lips to yours “Don’t you dare finish that sentence you are fucking hot” he said while kissing your face *knock knock* “10 minutes till show time Munson” You both looked at each other we huge smiles “Go knock there socks off rockstar” 

You walked by a mirror on the way to the stage when you looked at yourself and this time you saw the goddess, he was talking about he gave you confidence. He saw you look at you through the mirror “You look beautiful” he said kissing you “Yeah I do” you smiled at him “That’s my girl”  he screamed

Eddie played beautifully, his hair was flowing in every direction, his voice was amazing, the adrenaline kicked in when he walked onto the stage. He did it, His dream came true. The last chord rang through the speakers as they closed the night, they gave thanks and headed off the stage. The boy’s blood was rushing and big smiles everywhere “You looked amazing babe” you beamed bringing him in for a kiss “I feel amazing” he screamed. As much as they wanted to celebrate, they were tired. But we had to wait for a few hours till everyone was gone, they got on the tour bus. You sit on the leather couch with Eddie following in suit. He has been eyeing your thighs all night. “Is there something you like” you teased him “Yes there is” he said while moving his head down “Oh my god not here” you said quietly while looking around making sure no one was looking “As much as I would love to do that” he said “I will be using your thighs for other reasons” he continued. He laid his head on your thighs “Oh yea this is definitely what the doctor ordered” you rolled your eyes then started playing with his hair “if you keep doing that, I will fall asleep” “You deserve sleep, go ahead I will wake you when it is time to go” the response was his light snores.  

About two hours later their manager gave them the ok to get on the bus “Eddie my love wake up” you said light shaking him he rubbed his eyes and stretched “that was the best sleep of my life” he said “Come on let’s get on the bus” he clung on to you trying to keep the sleep in his eyes “ You my new pillow” he said sleepily “What” “You’re so comfy and squishy you are just my perfect pillow” you got him on the tour bus and into his bed. He pulled you under him and laid his head on your chest said his good nights and I love you’s and drifting off to sleep. He woke up the next morning “Yep you’re my new pillow” 

Tag list: @thefreak0fhawkinshigh

[like-what-the-fuck-scoob]

I saw you're looking for Eddie requests :)

Could I request an Eddie x reader where Eddie takes the reader to a concert for their birthday? Maybe some birthday smut?

Thank you so much if you decide to write this!

Pent Up (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary - You tease Eddie at a concert. When you get home, he can't hold himself back. Reader is female. Part one (maybe?).

Word Count - 1.3k

Content Warnings - Smut, teasing, grinding, fingering, public teasing? kind of orgasm denial? Eddie is dominant but not degrading. He's just cocky. Use of 'sweetheart', 'princess', 'love' and 'good girl'.

************************************

Deep bass and a harsh rhythm pounded at your ears, stage lights and strobes ringing your blurry field of vision, as you thrashed your head in time with the music.

It was your birthday, and Eddie had taken you to see your favourite band. Waking up this morning, you remember the squeal of excitement that escaped your lips as you opened an envelope addressed to 'my lady', to find two concert tickets inside. Having anticipated this all day, you were finally here, rocking out with your boyfriend behind you.

Immersed in the atmosphere, your focus was set on the stage, watching the band with awe and enthusiasm, dancing your starstruck heart away.

But Eddie wasn't paying attention to the concert. He wasn't encapsulated by the music or the performance. No, he was entranced by you.

To say the floor was busy was an understatement. The concert was packed to the brim, attendees squished like sardines as everyone fought for their place in the mosh pit. And you an Eddie were no exception to this. As you moved your body to the aggressive melody, you couldn't escape making contact with your boyfriend, bumping him, knocking into his form.

Eddie's hazel eyes bore into your back with lust as you moved against him. Your soft hair floating over his lips as you bobbed your head back and forth, your arms brushing over his chest, your ass rubbing against his crotch as you swayed your hips. He snaked his hands around your waist.

Leaning in close to your ear, the brunette whispered. "You're killin' me right now sweetheart..."

The bulge in his jeans made you gasp as your ass caressed the hard length.

"Gettin' me all nice and hard, hm?" He smirked against the back of your hair, his grip around you tightening.

As the rockstars transitioned into their next song, you turned in Eddie's arms, facing him with a devious smile. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you began to grind your clothed mound against him, his lips tight and eyes wide as he attempted to mask the pleasure building in his midsection.

"Mhmm" you hummed, dragging out the sound. "Just like that baby?"

You were teasing him, and Eddie knew it. Gripping your shirt and pulling you in for a kiss, he melded your lips together in heat as you both rocked to the rhythm of the room.

"Oh, the things I'm gonna do to you when we get back home, sweetheart..."

/

You squealed as Eddie threw you onto the bed, playfully peppering kisses down your cheeks and neck as he clambered on top of you.

"I've been waiting for this, love..." He seduced, lifting your band shirt above your head, exposing your bra and stomach.

Eyeing you hungrily, your boyfriend wasted no time in tugging down your black denim shorts, leaving you sprawled in just your underwear, your slick already forming a slight wet spot in your panties.

"So fucking beautiful." He gushed, cupping your chin and placing a passionate kiss to your mouth, his tongue slipping between your lips and entwining with yours. You whined as Eddie's hand reached down and began teasing your clit through the fabric, bucking up into his touch.

"E-Eddie, please." You pressed your forehead against his. With a smug look, he quickened the pace of his fingers, prompting a gasp as your grip on him tightened in a mixture of frustration and pleasure.

"Use your words sweetheart. What do you want?" He asked coyly, his own length hard and aching at the sound of your soft cries.

"T-Take them off. Touch me, please Eds."

The dungeon master didn't need any further encouragement. Within seconds, his fingers were hooked under the elastic, jerking your panties down your legs with one smooth motion. Discarding them to the side, your boyfriend focused his attention on your dripping folds.

Humming softly as the air hit your bare skin, you realised how sensitive you were.

"Such a pretty pussy..." Eddie cooed, before slipping a finger into your entrance, earning a sharp whimper from your parted, puffy lips.

"Feels so good babe." You reassured him, spurring him to keep going.

Looking up at you, his deep hazel orbs roamed your face, noting your expressions as he inserted another finger into you.

Throwing your head back onto the plump cushions below, you arched your body with a loud, sinful moan, giving into the warm sensations flooding your abdomen.

A cocky chuckle arose from your boyfriend, infatuated by your neediness. "You like that sweetheart, hm?"

You nodded your head eagerly, whining as his fingers curled deeper into your hole, hitting your sweet spot. Groaning in pure pleasure, you squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip as a familiar knot began to build.

"Eddie- fuck!!"

Jerking your hips towards him, you rode his fingers as he quickened the pace, now using his thumb to rub circles around your deprived, swollen clit. You were close to seeing stars, Eddie's fingers working magic on your bundle of nerves, the cold metal of his rings distinct against your soaked mound.

You were a writhing mess, your body shaking under his touch, spewing a constant string of 'fuck, yes, yes, fuck yes!'

You cried out, only for the guitarist to slow his momentum, carefully removing his wet fingers from your stretched walls.

The brunette moved up the bed, his face now hovering above yours as he gently cupped your chin. "Not yet princess, I'm not done with you."

His sentiment earned a frustrated whine, but you complied, eager to make love to the metalhead on your special day.

Eddie wasted no time unbuckling his belt, undressing from both his jeans and boxers, desperate to free his solid cock. Almost drooling at the sight of him, you reached out to stroke his long length, only for your boyfriend to push your hand away, instead closing the gap between you as he positioned himself above your needy form.

"Oh no sweetheart..." he tutted, amused at your confused expression, gazing over your pouting lips and wide, questioning eyes. "We don't have time for that."

You stilled, unsure of his line of thought.

With a sigh, Eddie dropped his head and caught your lips in his own, initiating a heated, wanting kiss. His cock twitched against your slick as he hovered above you, before moving his mouth, nibbling gently at your tip of your flushed ear, sensing your hesitancy.

"You can't just tease me like that at the concert... leaving me pent up for hours..." he breathed into your ear, his voice low and raspy, "and not expect me to want to fuck you senseless..."

Your heart nearly beat out of your chest at his words, your pussy on fire, thighs trembling with anticipation. He was greedy for you, and oh how you wanted to give him everything, give him all of you.

"Since you were grinding up on me, all I've been thinking about is fucking that pretty pussy." He admitted, your breathing hitched as he wrapped his fingers around his length, resting it on top of your sensitive nub. "So be a good birthday girl, and spread those legs for me."

Pressing a kiss to your forehead as you opened your thighs, Eddie couldn't stop himself from rubbing his erection over your folds, coating himself in your wetness, hissing in pleasure as he allowed his cock some relief, enamored with your moans as he slid over your aching clit.

Lining himself up at your entrance, he looked to you for a final confirmation.

With sparkling eyes, you nodded, pushing your hips up to graze the head of his cock against your hole. Raking a hand through his damp, curly hair, you reassured him.

"Don't hold back"

**************************************

(Authors Note - I have reached the conclusion that I'm bad at writing smut paha. But on the off chance someone does enjoy this, let me know if you'd like a part 2! Just drop a comment or send me an ask! ❤️)

[mojowitchcraft]

2024 Fic Tracker

I decided to start tracking the fics I'm reading for 2024 and I thought I'd maybe do a monthly round up of my favourite fics and post on here, but I'm one week in and there's already so many great fics that I'm reading that I wanted to yell about!

Not sure how consistently I'll post these, but I love hyping up my fellow writers and friends, so here's some of my recent faves, mainly Steddie fics but some others in here!

change your mind

by helix_stomper [@pixelizedrifles] Rating: E | Words: 168k | Chapters: 13/17 | Pairing: Steddie

Summary:

After his breakup with Nancy, Steve Harrington keeps it a secret that he hasn’t made an effort to meet his soulmate. When he accidentally wakes up next to them a few days after his 18th birthday, he’s surprised to find that it’s not only another guy, but somebody else in Hawkins. Between losing all his old friends, learning how not to be an asshole, and balancing his newfound sexuality in a closed-minded town, Steve has his work cut out for him. Eddie Munson doesn’t believe in soulmates, but that doesn’t stop him from waiting in the dreamscape every night for his. Balancing life as an openly queer, drug-dealing super senior in Hawkins, Indiana is no cakewalk, especially with Billy Hargrove on his ass. But maybe, just maybe, there’s something to that whole soulmate thing after all.

📓 💭: [Read most recent chapters of this ongoing WIP] I was so excited when I saw that helix_stomper was writing a soulmate fic, and it does NOT disappoint. It's a totally different vibe from the Boots & Budweiser series but it's so so excellent. A completely fresh and interesting take on the soulmate trope with dreamscapes, a healthy dose of identity porn and some *drama*

they're going to send us to prison for jerks

by @greatunironic Rating: E | Words: 16k | Chapters: 1/1 | Pairing: Steddie

Summary:

GARETH 11.46am it’s been like five hours should we do a welfare check on him? JEFF 11.47 am why? you think it’s possible to die from jerking it too much? GARETH 11.47am ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah In which Eddie is TikTok famous, and his personal favorite creator just had an unexpected face reveal.

📓 💭: I love me some modern au / alt format / social media shinanegans and this did not disappoint! Super fun and cute

Paint & Glitter

by unhappy_peaches [@ghast1yghosts] Rating: T | Words: 2.3k | Chapters: 1/1 | Pairing: Steddie

Summary:

"face painter Steve's next in line is an excited 20 y/o Eddie who wants a dragon"

📓 💭: [Reread] This came up in covo with a friend and I had to reread it cause it's so damn cute.

Tentative

by Eddywow [@eddywoww] Rating: E | Words: 90k | Chapters: 11/? | Pairing: Steddie

Summary:

“Oookay," The woman drew out, one ringed hand sweeping at Stevie's hair. "Hey there, Uhh. You're kind of in my lap. Can you get up?" Rude. Couldn't she see Stevie was trying her best?

📓 💭: [Read most recent chapters of this ongoing WIP] I was a little late to the party starting to read this but it's SO FUCKING GOOOOOOOD!! (would we expect anything less of Eddywow? Doubtful) Love going wild with my friends about stressy depressy big tiddy Stevie. Such a fun dynamic between them in this gender bent girl band modern au.

We Can't Both Be Billy Joel

by audacity_of_bluejays [@audacityofbird] Rating: E | Words: 34k | Chapters: 4/5 | Pairing: Steddie

Summary:

Classically trained concert pianist Steve Harrington’s dreams went on pause when the world shut down in 2020. When you’re the last one in, you’re the first one out when the concert halls shut down, no matter how much time, effort, work or talent you put in. So, three years later when his adoptive father and owner of Skeleton Keys Piano Bar in Indianapolis calls him home from New York City to help save the family business, he finally has a way to use his skills and experience. Turns out you can come home again. The only problem is, the plan is to bring in dueling pianos and Steve has to work with the current piano player on staff. Eddie is stupidly talented, annoying and friendly even when Steve isn't. It's infuriating. Can they work together and save the bar from closing? Or will they both get more than they bargained for?

📓 💭: [Read most recent chapters of this ongoing WIP] love love loving my gal Birdie's modern au piano bar fic. Honestly did not expect to get turned on by them playing the piano but the 'playing the piano as foreplay' tag did not lie to me! This is super fun and sweet and the final chapter is getting posted tomorrow!

Steve & Robin

by audacity_of_bluejays [@audacityofbird] Rating: M | Words: 46k | Chapters: 8/22 | Pairing: Evental Steddie, with on and off Stommy as a treat

Summary:

It's 1995. Two sets of best friends find themselves in Chicago and in each other's orbit as they try to figure out how to best navigate the world, work, relationships, family, and friendships in their mid-twenties. Chrissy is starting a new job in a new city with only an old friend to help tether her. Eddie tries to help his band find their big break. Steve tries to get his matchmaking family off his back and Robin hatches a plan to help him do that in an unconventional and seemingly logical way. They're all finding themselves and their way to each other. So, who cares if they stumble along the way? At least they have each other.

📓 💭: [Currently catching up on this ongoing WIP] Another one that I was putting off reading and I'm now obsessed with!! Birdie has really found her niche with this fun screenplay style alt format. The way she describes the scenes and the cuts between things is SO FUCKING FUNNY and I can totally visualize it. My new fave sitcom.

stand still (so i can see your sillouette)

by audacity_of_bluejays, pizzabones [@glitterfang] Rating: E | Words: 4k | Chapters: 1/1 | Pairing: Stommy

Summary:

Immediately following the events of Chapter 7 of Steve & Robin, Tommy and Steve consummate this new version of their relationship. Will this be the beginning of something beautiful or the end of something that's run its course? Maybe Both. Tune in:

📓 💭: oh my god it's like if my favourite sitcom had a late night special. wowoowoweeeee!!! Love me some Stommy smut but also I couldn't relax and enjoy it the whole time cause I don't trust that man!!

sidelong

by Adure [@toburnup]

Rating: E | Words: 5.8k | Chapters: 1/1 | Pairing: Stommy

Summary:

Tommy draws his knees up toward him and leans his folded arms on top. He stares, unashamed, at the length of Steve's neck as he looks around. His chin. His nice smile. Tommy's drunker now that they're sitting in the brunt of the sun, and maybe that's why it takes a few extra seconds for him to realize that Steve's stopped talking. "Is there something on my face?" Steve asks, rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand. He looks confused. And he's waiting, because Tommy is slack-jawed and a little bit in love and he's really, really not ready for this shit. (Tommy can't help but look, and Steve can't stop catching him.)

📓 💭: some soft and squishy Stommy to heal the wounds that the above rec might give you. I love me some happy ending Stommy, just two dudes in love with each other trying to figure it all out!! Absolutely adored seeing my bestie Becca @glitterfang partner up with Vio and do some amazing art for this fic!!

Hungry Like The Wolf

by beetlesandstars [@beetlesandstarss] Rating: M | Words: 10k | Chapters: 1/1 | Pairing: Steddie

Summary:

“Are you a manifestation of my subconscious?” Eddie asks, tentatively shuffling closer to the wolf. He sways a little, stage-whispering, “What are you trying to tell me?” He knows the pills he took were strong but, well - he didn’t think they were ‘hallucinate a giant dog’ strong. (Or, the one where Steve turns into a wolf and befriends Eddie Munson.)

📓 💭: Werewolf Steve!! WEREWOLF STEVE!!! I need so much more of him!! Absolutely loved the identity porn of it all and wolfy cuddles. So good.

Sneaky Link

by morningberries [@morningberriesao3] Rating: E | Words: 121k | Chapters: 17/20 | Pairing: Steddie

Summary:

HailToTheKing: tell me what you look like   ELMst01: tall, pale af, few tats here and there   Steve lifts his eyes from his phone. He must be wondering why Eddie is smiling like a fucking idiot. He pretends not to notice Steve sizing him up from head to foot. Judging bastard.   HailToTheKing: sounds hot   HailToTheKing: just my type   OR   The only thing worse than Steve Harrington, is the fact that Eddie got paired with him for his college assignment. At least the sexy guy he subscribes to on OnlyFans is a good distraction to keep Eddie's mind away from Steve, and the annoying crush he hates that he's starting to develop on his project partner.

📓 💭: [Read the most recent chapter of this ongoing WIP] I've been loving this fic since the begining. I'm always feral for a modern au + university/college au + only fans? Come on!!! So much good soup in here. Plus the added Eddie is a thick headed dummy is so good

Slide It In

by gayhandshake Rating: E | Words: 1.7k | Chapters: 1/1 | Pairing: Steddie

Summary:

Without thinking, he yanks his hand back, Steve yelping, “Eddie!” in response. “Why does it feel like that?” Eddie asks, his mouth pinched. His voice is high-pitched and whiny and incredibly embarrassing, but seriously, why does it feel like that? He shakes his whole body out, wiggling his arms to dislodge the sensation. Steve cranes his neck to glare at him. “Like what?” “Like ‒ squishy and weird!” --- Eddie struggles with some features of the human body.

📓 💭: okay this is just pure silly crack and it made me laugh so fucking hard.

a snowfall kind of love

by @hexiewrites Rating: E | Words: 46.5k | Chapters: 7/11 | Pairing: Steddissy

Summary:

Chrissy has always been top of her class at the North Pole. She’s worked her way up to the matchmaking department, and has an impressive track record of successful Christmas relationships under her belt. This year's assignment should be easy, which is good, because if you asked her out of earshot she might tell you the whole thing is getting a bit… tired. Still: a happy but lonely mechanic meets an ornery author in the biggest slump of his career, whose bike breaks down outside of his secluded cabin in the woods where he's settled for his annual winter writing retreat. A house call, a little bit of that ‘snowed in, only one bed’ magic, Chrissy knows she’s in for an Elf of the Year award for this one. Only... what happens when the mechanic and the author are just as charmed by Chrissy as she is by them? When her little bit of snow gets a little bit out of control? With three of them snowed in, still with only one bed, and an elf fully cut off from her powers, can Chrissy still pull it off and help her marks find love? Or, can her marks help show her that there’s even more magic when Christmas ends, but the love is here to say?

📓 💭: [Read most recent chapter of ongoing WIP] Man I LOVE this, Steddissy is so much fun, plus the added hallmark cutesy christmas holiday of it all is so fun. I was howling with laughter about Chrissy being a covert Christmas elf, ducking behind things with bells in her hair wearing the LOUDEST Christmas outfits. Super cute and fun (and now smutty cause they doin the do and it's yum yum delicious)

[scoops-aboy86]

♠️♥️Famous Rockstar Eddie leaving the spotlight mysteriously and going off the radar for the next 10 years. Unbeknownst to the world, it was because he broke up with his then secret boyfriend Steve Harrington. Steve wanted to settle down, Eddie wanted to play for the world. The love never left but they both had dreams they wanted to pursue. Then very randomly he's spotted by paparazzi with a cute hubby, a wedding band on his finger, and 100lbs more than he had 10 years ago, enjoying brunch like he wasn't quote unquote "missing" to the public. 😂

Aww. I’m picturing a mostly amiable breakup… They’re both bummed to do it, but Eddie wants to leave and Steve wants to stay. It’s the 80’s, so no cell phones, no email… Much harder to keep up a long distance relationship. Both of them feel like they’re setting the other free. 

~

Cut to ten years later. Corroded Coffin made it big, and they’re coming up on the end of a tour that they’ve already said will be their last public appearance in a while. Gareth has a fiancé he wants to settle down with, Jeff is already married with a kid on the way, and Freak is thinking about going back to school for… something, he hasn’t decided what yet. 

Eddie is toying with the idea of doing a solo album or something, nothing big, but music is his life. It’s basically what he replaced Steve with after the breakup. He’s maybe leaned into food a little, especially during tours, but mostly burns it off with his on-stage antics. Over the years, he’s stuck pretty exclusively to hookups and situationships, nothing serious. As long as he has his music, everything’s fine. 

Which is why he’s dreading the end of the tour. After the second to last concert, right after they get to the next city, he does something he doesn’t usually do: he goes out and gets fucked up. (He saw what drugs and alcohol did to his parents when he was little and things were starting to fall apart, and No Thank You, but. It’s not bad if he only does it once, right? It’s fine.) 

The city happens to be Chicago. Eddie goes out, accepting just about anything anyone hands him like a moron… and wakes up having blacked out on everything except the vague impression of pop music blasted too loud for even his concert-hardened ears. The bed he’s in is comfortable in a very not-hotel-room sort of way and smells like the essence of a warm hug. He burrows into the blankets and pillows on the principle that maybe if he snuggles in deep enough he can hide from the raging hangover. 

It doesn’t work, of course, and a few minutes later he drags himself across the room on all fours to hurl his guts out into a waste basket. Which turns out not to have a liner. Oops. 

That’s when the door opens, and a mildly exasperated voice says, “Eds, seriously? I left you a bucket on your side of the bed.”

Blearily, Eddie turns and sees, of all people, Steve Harrington. Standing there in a yellow sweater and both hands on his hips like a blast from the goddamn past. He’s still handsome, still has the amazing hair, and the glasses he’s wearing lend a new kind of adult-ness to his face that hadn’t been there when he was twenty. He looks good. 

Eddie, meanwhile, feels like a stepped-on cockroach. It’s not fair. 

“Woke up facing this way,” Eddie rasps, but his heart leaps at the way Steve says your side. Like it’s still his. And it’s true, he does still prefer the left side of the bed, despite usually sleeping alone. “How are you… here? Where am I?”

Steve brings him a glass of water. “This is my apartment, I’ve been here for about three years now. I brought you here last night after you propositioned me because, and I quote, ‘You look just like the love of my fucking life that I walked away from like the dumbest idiot alive, wanna fuck and maybe marry me if my dick’s good enough? I’m kind of rich and famous, I could write so many songs about your eyes.’”

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie takes a sip of water, feeling like he might throw up again from embarrassment. “Did we…?”

“Nah, you passed out practically before finishing that second sentence. I carried you here to sleep it off, and answered your cell when Jeff called to check on you.” Steve, helping Eddie stand up at this point and guiding him back to the bed, raises an eyebrow. “He was extremely thorough in explaining that you don’t usually do things like this.”

Eddie groans. “Fuck… Is he sending a car or something? We’ve got a concert in… in… soon.”

“Two days,” Steve fills in easily. “Don’t worry, you have time to recover. I’ve made breakfast, if you think you can stomach it.”

Groaning again, Eddie face-plants into the pillows and realizes that wonderful scent is Steve and that’s why it was so nice when he first woke up. That smell still means home to him, even after a decade apart. “No, can’t do cereal and pop tarts right now.”

Steve snorts. “Excuse you, but one of us has learned to cook over the years and Jeff assured me it wasn’t you. There’s bacon, eggs, pancakes, and fresh strawberries. Vanilla ice cream in the freezer, too, if that still helps settle your stomach.”

“…It might,” Eddie mutters into the pillow. 

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready, there’s clothes at the end of the bed, and Advil and more water on the desk. I’m just going to, uh, take this basket out to the dumpster.”

Sorry, Eddie bites on his tongue to avoid saying. He’s just now realizing that he’s stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, which, like. Doesn’t even show off the coolest of his new tattoos. Not that that’s important, fuck, but it’s the first thing his hungover brain spits out about the whole situation other than, you know. 

The fact that he randomly ran into The Ex of All Time while so loaded he doesn’t even remember it happening. And Steve is acting like this is just normal even though they haven’t even been in contact for years. 

Eddie falls asleep while freaking out about this, and feels marginally more human by the time he wakes up. The clothes Steve left him are… Christ, it’s one of his old Metallica shirts, and the sweatpants that were technically Steve’s that Eddie had always stolen to sleep in, back when they were together. He doesn’t know how to feel about it. Stumbles his way out of the room to a bathroom, noticing along the way that the couch has a pile of folded blankets at one end. Because Steve probably slept there instead of his own bed. 

“Coffee?” Steve asks when Eddie finally puts in an appearance in the kitchen, passing him a mug that’s already doctored exactly the way he likes it. Eddie takes it and sips cautiously, but his stomach seems to have settled now and nothing bad happens, so he takes a longer, grateful gulp. 

The food is still waiting for him, kept warm in the oven with tin foil over the plates and heat set to low. Eddie sits down and feels something well up in his chest, in his eyes, at the first bite of scrambled eggs; it’s like eating clouds, they’re so damn fluffy. 

“‘S good,” he mumbles through a full mouth, then swallows and turns his tired eyes towards Steve. “I… I didn’t even know you’d moved to Chicago.”

Steve gives him an amused smile. “It wasn’t exactly news worthy of Rolling Stone, dude. Don’t worry about it.”

“Kinda have to,” Eddie mumbles, and jams bacon in his mouth. “I mean, I—Holy fuck, Steve, this is good. Are you a chef or something?”

The smile turns sheepish. “Sort of. It’s a long story, but I kinda teach cooking classes now? It’s a program for teens and preteens who’ve had trouble at home or with the law and need, like, better outlets that are also practical life skills. Robin’s girlfriend hooked me up, she teaches yoga and self-defense stuff at the same place.”

“Wow.” Eddie stares blankly at him for a second, before physically shaking off the surprise and looking back down at his plate. Steve had spent the past decade learning new skills and helping kids, whereas Eddie has written songs about sex, drugs, rock and roll, and… Steve’s eyes. “That’s great, Steve. You sound really happy.”

Because he does. And Eddie feels really, really bad about barreling accidentally back into Steve’s life, probably throwing a huge monkey wrench into it since there’s no way a guy this handsome and this good and this fantastic in the kitchen isn’t seeing anyone. He’d be snatched up in a second by any discerning man or woman with, like, eyes and a heart and taste buds. Which is what Steve deserves, really. He deserves someone who won’t run off at the first whiff of potential fame and fortune somewhere he can’t follow. 

“I do alright,” Steve replies modestly. 

“I’ll replace your waste basket,” Eddie blurts out. Because Steve deserves someone who doesn’t ever get fucked up enough to puke in and ruin his stuff, even if it’s not something he does regularly. “And, this is great, really, thank you for breakfast, but I should get out of your hair. I’m… sorry for ambushing you last night, or whatever it was I did, I can’t even remember—”

His hand is clenched around his fork so tight that his knuckles have gone pale, and he almost jolts out of his chair when Steve puts a hand over it, massaging his grip into loosening slightly. “First of all, I got that thing at Costco,” Steve informs him. “It’s not a big deal. Second, you didn’t ambush me. I mean, I was surprised, for sure, but… it was nice to hear that I’m still the love of your life.” Steve gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “Really nice, Eds. And third, you didn’t exactly walk away. You asked me to come with you, I was the one who wasn’t ready to leave Hawkins then. We agreed, remember?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. He feels like careening back into Steve’s orbit now must count as some sort of violation of that agreement, or something… and yet Steve is still holding his hand. 

“I actually…” Steve hesitates, looking unexpectedly shy for someone who Eddie must be bothering. Then, instead of finishing the sentence, he lets go of Eddie’s hand to pull something from his back pocket and lay it on the table.

It’s a ticket. A VIP meet and greet pass for the Corroded Coffin concert in two days. 

“Everybody pitched in and got this for my birthday,” he says sheepishly. “They went on presale on the exact day, Dustin kept saying it was a sign.”

Eddie, who’s never paid much attention to ticket sales in general, much less the dates they become available, can only stare at it. His throat feels tight knowing that he would’ve seen Steve anyway, that it could’ve happened while he was riding the adrenaline high of performing instead of feeling like roadkill freshly scraped off the asphalt. 

“Which, if it was a sign, I’m guessing it wasn’t on purpose, since you didn’t even know I live out here now,” Steve continues. “But, well, they got it, and… I told Robin I wasn’t sure if I’d go, but I knew from the second I opened the envelope it was a done deal.”

“What about… A-aren’t you seeing anyone?” Eddie asks. He remembers, in wistful, rosy detail, Steve being in his element as a boyfriend. Knows that he loves having someone to share everything with, to learn through and through, to kiss and murmur I missed you even if it’s only been an hour, even when it wasn’t safe for two guys to do that openly in small town Indiana and he’d had to limit himself to a fleeting touch and saying it with his eyes. 

“No.” Steve shrugs. “I tried putting myself out there on and off, but there was never enough of a spark to make it past three or four dates. I always knew you were it for me, Eddie, even if we never got another chance. And this…” He taps the concert ticket. “I was going to ask if you wanted one, because god knows I’d give it to you. You don’t have to answer now, because going by how you look you must feel like crap—”

“Oh fuck you, dude.” Never one to sit stoically through Steve’s teasing, Eddie groans and hides a grudging you’ve got me there smile behind a handful of his own hair. 

Steve grins. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding or looking sorry at all. 

Which is where they leave it, for now. Eddie finishes his breakfast, clearing his plate and dishing up seconds because once he starts eating in earnest his stomach settles and he’s starving, and it’s all so good. And it’s not like they’re magically back together—Steve had slept on the couch instead of in the bed with him, they haven’t been close enough to share so much as a meal and conversation like this for ten years, but it’s a start. A chance to get to know each other again, see if they still fit. 

~

Fast forward another ten years. Eddie’s solo career is doing well but he doesn’t do public appearances, got all of his recording done at home in his private studio. He’s pretty much a homebody, which surprised some of the people who know him but not the ones that know him well. 

Steve still has the same job, not because he needs to work but because he loves it. He’s also Eddie’s de facto private chef, and he loves that too. 

But he’s not cooking today, because it’s their anniversary and Eddie is dead set on painting the town red. “Of course I still want to,” Eddie assures him again, nuzzling sleepily up against his unofficial husband (they’re holding out until it becomes legal in either Illinois or Indiana, whichever comes first) when Steve wakes him and asks if he’s still sure about their brunch reservations. “I want to take you out and show you off. Remember how I promised you how rich and famous I am and how cool that would be?”

Steve huffs in amusement, leaning into the nuzzling. “First of all, it was more of a statement than a promise. The actual promise was to write so many songs about my eyes. Second of all, you don’t remember that.”

“Kept the promise either way, didn’t I?” Eddie nips at his collarbone, bare because Steve never was one for sleeping with a shirt on, even when the weather turns cold. “I’ve written songs about your eyes, your smile, this ass…” He grabs at it with a little growl, leaning more of his weight onto Steve to reach and enjoying the way his sweetheart happily squirms. 

“Mmm, yeah,” Steve sighs. “But we could still stay in… have breakfast in bed…” His own hands find Eddie’s love handles and settle there. “Not have to get dressed.”

“Nope.” Eddie props himself up on one thick arm and kisses him on the nose. Then yawns hugely. “It’s about time I get some fresh air, and I’m taking you out, baby.”

So Steve crawls out of bed, fetching Eddie the clothes he asks for and gamely taking suggestions for his own outfit—though he anticipates every article with a smirk, starting to grab each hanger before the words are fully past Eddie’s lips. Jeans that are just a little on the tight side and highlight the ass that Eddie so loves to grab (and sing about grabbing, the horny lovesick goblin man), a t-shirt that shows off his muscles and broad shoulders (because he may be turning forty next month but he takes damn fine care of his body), and the leather jacket from Eddie’s Corroded Coffin days that no longer fit their original owner. 

Because Eddie, who loves Steve’s food, has put on at least a hundred pounds in the past decade,maybe more. Most of it has gone to his belly, but he’s pretty round and soft all over—except his ass, for some reason, which is his excuse for how much attention he regularly bestows on Steve’s. 

That’s not why he’s stayed out of the public eye for so long though. It’s more because he got his fill of being a rock star, being recognized everywhere he goes, being photographed all the time and known for his wild antics. He’d wanted that when he was younger, so badly, needed the accolades and acknowledgement as someone who hadn’t gotten a lot of that as a child. But that rock star life took him away from Steve for so long, which he both regrets and doesn’t because it all worked out in the end. He’d been in it just as much for being able to make and share his music, too, which he can still do, so he’s happy. Happy and so, so in love. 

Their day is back to back reservations at various restaurants, all selected by Eddie because of dishes he knows that Steve will want to try and recreate at home. “Inspiration for your craft,” Eddie tells him with a wink, his own cheeks pink and grin lazy with the pleasure of overindulgence. 

Pictures are taken, more by cell phones than paparazzi because it’s the 2000’s now (not long before the Supreme Court of California issues a finding that allows that state to start issuing same-sex marriage licenses out on the West Coast, and Steve and Eddie fly out for Robin’s backyard wedding). They circulate the internet, with thousands of people weighing in on whether that really is Eddie Munson, the “missing” front man from Corroded Coffin. There are comparisons between old photos and these new ones, in depth analyses that range from “he wouldn’t get that fat” to “wow he really let himself go” to “looks like he’s living his best life.”

Eddie and his sweetheart—who is a total unknown except to some of the kids at the program who see the pictures and flip out because since when is Mr. Harrington so close with a famous metal guitarist omg, he’s so lame with all his sweater vests and dad jokes—remain unaware and unbothered as Steve helps Eddie tuck his already full belly back into his pants, get him all zipped up again, and leave brunch for their next stop. 

And they have a very lovely day.

Permanent tag list (ask to be added): @hotluncheddie @tangerinesteve @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax

[corrodedbisexual]

@steviesbicrisis your Steddie Eurovision brainrot never left my brain, so now I'm thinking about Eddie going for the ultimate love confession by learning Stefano's song (Duolingo lessons paid off somewhat, he's got the pronunciation down at least and the lyrics can be memorized). He rearranges it into a beautiful metal power ballad, rents a studio, and they record the cover overnight (bless his bandmades for indulging his insanity when they could be out partying like the rest of the Eurovision crowd, but they end up having fun with it, too). Eddie uploads the song to their Spotify before he can chicken out and goes to bed to scream into his pillow.

Steve wakes up to about a hundred notifications of people texting him and tagging him in posts about Corroded Coffin's new cover track. He listens to it several times making sounds absolutely unbecoming of a grown man that he is, and kicking his feet, and texting Robin in all caps and heart emojis because he's absolutely GONE for that low gravelly voice singing HIS song. (Robin, who's currently in the US, texts him back a picture of her bedside clock showing 4AM, with a deadpan emoji. But then also "go get your man dingus" and an eggplant emoji.)

Later that day Eddie attends Steve's concert at a club, hoping to blend in with the crowd, but Steve notices him just as he's about to close with his Eurovision number, grins wide and says, "I think there's someone in the audience who might help me put a twist on this one. Hey Australia, get your ass on stage."

Before Eddie's brain even catches up with what's happening, there are lights on him, the crowd recognize him and all cheer and whoop and whistle; news travels lightning fast in the village, so all the Eurovision fans present have heard his cover already and are thrilled about what they're about to witness. Eddie's being pushed forward, his feet helplessly dragging him towards the stage, and there's an electric guitar shoved into his arms by someone.

It's only thanks to years of experience and muscle memory that Eddie manages to tune the guitar while his brain short circuits about being right next to this gorgeous man, hair a mess, neck all sweaty and shiny from the stage lights. And then he's playing, Steve's band follow his lead, and Steve sings the verses himself but pulls Eddie in for the choruses. They are both singing into the same mic, pressed together back to back, Steve's face and LIPS so fucking close the entire time, their cheeks almost touching, making Eddie buzz from more than just stage adrenaline.

The whole audience joins in on what was supposed to be the final chorus, Steve and Eddie turned around now to almost face each other; Steve throws an arm around his shoulders and grins so wide and dazzling as he sings, eyes moving between the crowd and Eddie, and Eddie can't stop grinning back at him; holy fuck, the man is so beautiful like this, Eddie never wants this to end. He repeats the chorus tune on the guitar over and over, changing up the rhythm to go faster and faster on what was initially a slow ballad, matching his own accelerating heartbeat. Steve's grin is absolutely brilliant as he matches Eddie's pace perfectly in this little improv, despite the lyrics going so fast now Eddie would never be able to do that, but Steve practically breaks into a rap by the end of it and he's ON FIRE. The crowd is going wild, everyone jumping up and down and just high pitch screaming when the lyrics get too fast for them to follow, too.

Eddie ends it with a quick improv guitar solo, Steve's eyes on him the entire time, wide and shining as he not quite headbangs, but keeps nodding to the rhythm. Then, with the final chord still ringing out, Steve leans into the mic to sing the chorus one last time a capella, slow and soft. The club immediately goes quiet as everyone listens, mesmerized, and so does Eddie. God, this man has a beautiful voice.

Steve's eyes are closed for the most of it, but they open on the final line and land on Eddie as he sings it, and Eddie remembers the translation of it. "Would you let me love you like it's our last night on this planet?" He is so gone, gone, GONE. When the set ends, and they both bow to the audience whose cheers are near deafening, it's only the fact that every single person has their phones out to record the performance that stops Eddie from kissing the guy right there on that stage.

Steve drags him backstage and slams him into a wall the moment they're out of sight, and it's kinda funny how they are making out like horny teenagers before they even had a single conversation, but after all, music speaks louder than any words.

[artiststarme]

Steve Has a Minor Fear of Spiders

Steve wasn’t afraid of much. He would drop everything to hit a demogorgon with a nail-studded bat and he’d face up against an evil wizard guy that could murder people through their minds any day. He would square up to bullies and deal with anything that came at him. What he wouldn’t do however, is deal with spiders. He didn’t care if the thing was huge, small, poisonous, or not. 

Steve Harrington did not fuck with spiders. 

He thought that everyone was made aware of his little aversion to anything with eight legs. Lord only knows he freaked out in front of the party enough times. Eddie, though, was not notified of his predicament and he learned about Steve’s arachnophobia the hard way. 

~*~*~*~

It was a peaceful day for Eddie and Steve. They were lounging around the trailer, cuddling in Eddie’s bed, and listening to the dulcet tones of Ozzy screaming his head off through the cassette player. Both of them had the day off with nowhere to be and they were planning on making the most of their free time while they had it. 

First on the list was a nap. Eddie was half asleep, comfortable in Steve’s arms and basking in the heat from his personal heater. Out of nowhere, Steve screamed in his ear and leapt off the bed like it was on fire. Eddie’s eyes shot open and he scrambled to sit up from his comfy cocoon of blankets. 

“Dude, what the fuck,” his voice was hoarse and irritation swam in his eyes. Steve better have a good excuse to give him for ruining his naptime. Jesus Christ, he’d waited all week to cuddle this guy and now he was playing games? Eddie was not in the mood to say the least.

“There’s a fucking spider! Oh my god, it’s on your chest! Holy Shit, Eddie!” Steve screamed. His arms flailed and his skin paled ever further. Eddie was still waking up, his brain hardly understanding Steve’s words. 

“A spider? What-”

“Duck!”

“Now there’s a duck?” And then he got hit in the face by a flying combat boot. 

“Did I get it?” Steve asked hesitantly. 

“No! You got me! Why would you throw a boot at my face?!” Eddie yelled at him. 

“To kill the spider! Oh my god, it’s still there.” His voice shook with a fear so potent that Eddie looked down at his chest to see what was causing it. He didn’t see any creepy-crawlies besides the spider tattoo just under his collarbone. Wait a minute…

“This? It’s a fucking tattoo! I’ve had this black widow tattoo since I was 16!” Eddie yelled. 

“Why would you get a tattoo of a spider?” Steve asked in horrified confusion. 

“Because I like it! Why would you throw a combat boot at someone’s face?” 

“To kill the spider!”

They both stared at each other in silence for a moment, some more mad than others. Steve cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, man. But uh, could you put a shirt on?” 

“Unbelievable,” Eddie muttered. He did slip a metal concert tee on but glared at Steve all the while. He stuck his tongue out at Steve and stalked from his room, his naptime ruined by the boyfriend that was supposed to act as a pillow. 

He forgave him eventually, like two hours later, when Steve made him Kraft Mac and Cheese and kissed the bruise on his forehead with soft tenderness. Eddie couldn’t stay mad at the guy when it was his spider tattoo that prompted such a reaction. 

And if he got the tattoo covered up a few weeks later with an image of his Sweetheart (his Warlock), well, it probably had nothing to do with Steve’s fear of spiders.

Permanent Tag List: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1 @anzelsilver @ghosttotheparty @jestyzesty @gregre369 @mysticcrownshipper

[nametakensff]

oooh can i request 🥶🤬🤧 for st/eddie?

Ok, so this ended up at 13.7k 💀 it just took over and I kept going - thank you so much for the prompt! 💕

E/ddie and S/teve had been planning to go to a concert together for months. The day of, however, they wake up sick and grouchy. Everything continues to spiral from there

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, Established Relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, colds, contagion, mess, handjobs, fevers, they're just generally super fucking unwell but fuck about it anyway, fetishy dirty talk

CW:

Lots of fighting and angst, mentions of homophobia, Q slur is used

Some other notes:

- I've written E/ddie as having undiagnosed ADHD - nobody knows it's a thing, including him

- The fic is set in January 1988, so S/teve and E/ddie have been in a relationship for about a year and a half

- I'm a British person who cannot drive and has been to Indiana twice, I'm trying my best to make this scenario believable haha

Fic is v NSFW, so under a readmore! Hope you enjoy 🥰

If Eddie hadn’t been teetering on the edge of breaking point for the last several hours already, the car rolling to a miserable, sputtering stop out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere would have been the final straw. As it was, he didn’t know whether to scream or cry. So he sat there in astonished disbelief as Steve attempted to start the car, over and over. He watched his boyfriend slap the steering wheel in frustration through unblinking eyes.

“Steve. Steve? Are you fucking kidding me right now!? Why the fuck have we stopped??”

He watched the muscles in the younger man’s jaw tighten, refusing to look at him and instead frowning angrily out of the front window. His knuckles were white where they gripped the wheel, and Eddie could swear a vein was starting to bulge on his forehead.

“We better not be out of gas. Steve? Are we – are we actually out of gas??”

Radio silence as he continued to stare at Steve, growing more panicked by the second.

“Ste-“

“YES, okay?? We’re out of fucking gas. God damn it!”

Steve slapped the wheel again, grinding his teeth. Before he could help himself, Eddie burst into high pitched squeals of laughter. He sounded deranged, hysterical, but he supposed he was having a breakdown and there was nothing much he could do to prevent it. At least Steve was finally looking at him – though glaring would be the more appropriate term.

“What the fuck?”

Eddie concurred – what the fuck, indeed. But no matter how much he willed it, the nervous laughter would not stop. Steve had had enough, cursing as he got out of the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind him. It would do no good to check for any petrol – Eddie had told him they were running low, but Steve just hadn’t listened. He checked anyway – the metalhead watched in the rear-view mirror as he popped the trunk and rummaged for a full cannister, coming up empty. At least Eddie’s insane cackles had fizzled down to the occasional reedy giggle. Steve got back in his seat, slamming the door again.

Several minutes of almost silence passed, both men staring blankly into space. An awkwardly loud sniffle from Steve jolted Eddie back to the present. He watched as Steve lifted a broad palm to hover in front of his gaping mouth, nostrils twitching in preparation for the oncoming sneeze. Underneath the exhaustion, the anger and utter defeat, Eddie still found himself admiring his boyfriend’s profile, eyes fixed on his crumpling expression, almost on autopilot.

“Hh-HAH!! HAAAESHHH’uuu!! H’RRIIISSHHH!! TSCHHHH!! Mother fucker –“

Steve fumbled in the glove box for a tissue, a napkin, anything to clean himself up with. The powerful sneeze had not only drenched his palm, several droplets running down his wrist, but his nose had started to run down his lip. Again, his search was futile – they had long used up any tissue or bandana they had to hand. Eddie sat in contemplation for a moment, then sighed heavily before reaching into the back seat for his things. He opened his backpack, glanced sadly at his Black Sabbath ‘Born Again’ Tour t-shirt, before wordlessly thrusting it in Steve’s general direction.

He heard Steve pause, hesitating, before he gently took the shirt from Eddie. The older man thought he heard a small ‘thank you’, but it honestly wouldn’t have surprised him if it had been a ‘fuck you’ either. Eddie grimaced at the sound of Steve emptying his poor, congested sinuses into his prized possession, arousal and frustration warring in his stomach. He turned his head in time to watch Steve wipe his nostrils dry, painfully red from hours of similar abuse.

Those sneezes had been notably louder and even messier than the endless preceding ones, which had already been amping up in intensity over the past couple of hours, making driving an increasingly difficult task. Eddie wondered if the silver lining of being lost in the middle of nowhere was that Steve hadn’t gotten them into any major accidents by sneezing them into an oncoming vehicle. The thought didn’t help him one bit, however. Silver linings, my ass. Silver linings could fuck off and die – much like he wanted to, in this present moment.

He leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closing against anxiety that flowed through his extremities in waves, engulfing him in a paralytic sense of doom. He really needed to keep his cool, but he was failing miserably. He’d just have to ride it out for now, wait until the panic plateaued and subsided.

He considered their current situation – both of them sick, with what he now suspected was the flu, given how quickly it had come on and the way his head was starting to pound. They were lost; they had no gas and their car was stuck on the side of a road with nothing but cornfields surrounding them as far as the eye could see, like some god damn B Horror movie. They had no food, no more Tylenol, no tissues. They had been fighting for hours. They were tired. It was below freezing outside, and he could already feel the lack of heating. It didn’t take a genius intellect to deduce that they were well and truly Fucked with a capital F.

As if some decidedly non-divine higher power had a personal vendetta against him – a suspicion which Eddie had entertained several times throughout his life – his nose was starting to tickle, again. More accurately, his head was abuzz with the desire to sneeze within milliseconds, giving him almost no warning or buildup before he was jerked forward by a fit of intensely itchy sneezes.

“HhdTT’chiew! Hggxt! Hig’xt! Ehg’xxt! GXXT’CHieww!!”

He had stifled the first one by sheer willpower, able to pinch his wildly flaring nostrils shut between a thumb and forefinger for the next few. The last somehow managed to barrel past his wavering grip, slick nostrils slipping free. He shouldn’t be suppressing them like this – not now, not when he was ill and the only thing it would seek to accomplish was a burgeoning sinus infection. His head throbbed anew, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, willing himself not to whimper.

“…You shouldn’t-“

“I know. Please. Just. Leave me alone.”

He knew that was the wrong thing to say, even after having said plenty of wrong things today already. He had heard the genuine concern in Steve’s voice when he spoke, and he could now feel that his previous anger had been rekindled, emanating from the former jock in almost tangible waves of resentment. He had often fucking hated his life before Steve, but this was the first time he’d ever fucking hated it since.

Steve was right, of course. He knew stifling would hurt him, and he normally reserved it for when he was unable to hold back an allergic fit in public. Here it was just him and Steve – his boyfriend, with the same fetish for sneezing as him. He should be sneezing with abandon, as he normally did around him. It pleased Steve, it pleased him, it didn’t hurt – what reason could he possibly have for bullying the sneezes into submission?

If he was being completely honest with himself, it was this: Steve didn’t deserve to hear them right now. It was possibly one of the pettiest things Eddie had ever thought, and he’d been plenty petty in his time. But right now, he wanted Steve to know how fucking pissed he was at him, even though it hurt to feel the same sentiment directed back at him. He had purposely twisted himself towards the passenger window as he sneezed, biting back the sound and hiding his face from Steve in entirety. He never thought he would be in a position where he didn’t want Steve’s roving eyes drinking in the visuals of his desperate pre-sneeze expression, but here he fucking was.

Eddie leaned his forehead against the window, eyes shut and jaw clenched. The cold glass against his skin felt wonderful, but it also made him shiver, confirming that he was indeed feverish. Just perfect. Wasn’t it enough that they would be missing the concert they’d been looking forward to for months, on top of fucking hating each other right now, without both of them being sick as a dog? He felt the threatening prickle of tears he’d been holding back for hours forming at the corner of his eyes, the final cherry on top of this shit sundae that was his day.

~~~~~~

Steve, for what it was worth, was feeling just as miserable as his boyfriend. Hell, he thought he probably felt worse – the guilt of ignoring Eddie’s warning about running low on gas burning like acid in the pit of his stomach. At the time, he probably even knew the older man was right; but he’d been so fucking angry with him already for fucking up their money that he’d barely listened to him. Admittedly, he’d been a grade A asshole ever since he woke up that morning, lurching forward with a throat-scraping sneeze, a nasty head cold already well settled in his sinuses. His prickly mood had practically invited friction with his sensitive boyfriend, who was also coming down with something himself.

He clenched the steering wheel with both hands and urged himself to calm down. The anger and frustration he’d been feeling almost nonstop for hours had left him shaking. Despite it all, despite how this was the angriest he had ever been with his boyfriend, he couldn’t help his almost pavlovian response to the older man’s irritated little sneezes. His traitorous dick throbbed against the tight confines of his levi’s. The fact that he couldn’t control his physical response just made him even angrier – it was a never-ending cycle of frustration that seemed to travel through him in an uncomfortable thrum. He hated feeling this way.

His sinuses buzzed and he reached up with a fist to rub at his nose, mashing it around so harshly he could hear the resounding wet squelching noises with each motion. He glanced at Eddie, finding him still slumped and motionless up against the passenger door, staunchly ignoring him. His turned back felt like a door closing in his face, the metalhead about as distant from Steve as he could possibly be whilst still sitting less than a few feet away from him. Eddie could be moody at times, but today was a whole new level of dramatics that Steve knew he had been the cause of. The sight of his boyfriend inching himself as far away from him as he physically could was incredibly painful, so Steve turned his gaze back to the steering wheel and tried to think.

They didn’t really have much of a choice either way – they would simply have to wait for someone to come by. He should’ve brought one of the walkie-talkies that had saved him countless times in his misadventures against Vecna, The Mindflayer, the Demodogs – but hindsight was 20/20 and perhaps given all the insane supernatural danger he’d been through, he’d neglected the very real possibility that the mundane could be dangerous too.

His head gave a sudden and sharp throb, wrenching him out of his thoughts as he cursed softly under his breath. He made a mental note to track down and kill the Family Video customer that had gifted him with this real sucker punch of a bug. The second the guy had walked in, eyes streaming and nose bright red, Steve should’ve hightailed it to the back of the store. But Robin was already off with another customer, and the guy beelined to the counter where Steve had been standing. He tried his best to smile welcomingly at him, pointedly looking anywhere other than his twitching pink nostrils.

The guy had asked Steve for recommendations on a date night movie, even as he took a damp wad of tissues from his pocket and pawed with it at his nose. Good luck with that date, buddy, Steve had thought whilst rattling off a list of romantic comedies that would fit the bill. He remembered that ‘Dirty Dancing’ had just come out on VHS, and the guy seemed to brighten at that idea, so Steve went to grab a copy for him. He handed it to the guy and hurriedly typed away at the computer, eager to get this dude and his germs out of the store.

He’d been so close, too, but as he turned to tell the poor guy to enjoy his movie, he’d been met with the sight of him sneezing, uncovered, down at his counter. To his credit, he seemed completely mortified, attempting to wipe the surface clean with an even dirtier tissue, but Steve had assured him through only slightly clenched teeth that it was okay, and to feel better. The man had all but sprinted through the door, and Steve set to sterilising the counter, disgust and arousal battling inside him at the realisation that the colossal sneeze had actually left visible droplets in its wake.

He should’ve known it would be his turn to get sick. It was January, and he’d made it all the way through December without so much as a sniffle, avoiding catching Robin’s cold earlier that month even after they’d cuddled their way through a movie marathon in her living room. It was practically unheard of that he would get through Winter without catching a cold. It was unheard of that he would only catch one. He had only hoped he could count on that good luck a little while longer, just long enough that he could enjoy the concert Eddie had been planning for months.

~~~~~~

Iron Maiden was not a band that Steve had cared to listen to, nor were horror movies something he cared to watch. Dating Eddie Munson meant that he didn’t really have all that much of a choice in the matter. Several months earlier, Eddie had convinced Steve to check out ‘Phenomena’ with him. The last film they’d watched together was ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’, which had quickly become one of Steve’s favourites – and despite his griping, he knew Eddie liked it, too – but he was well overdue a horror movie watch with his distinctly macabre boyfriend. It was totally worth it watching Eddie’s entire face light up, big brown eyes practically glittering with excitement, when Steve acquiesced.

“This one’s from Italy,” Eddie had told him enthusiastically as he pushed the VHS into the player, “But it’s supposed to have a totally metal soundtrack, and the director – you remember ‘Suspiria’, that movie with the ballerinas and witches?”

Steve had remembered, but it was less the witches that had terrified him than the dog suddenly ripping a guy’s entire throat out unprompted. He’d made Eddie escort him to and from the bathroom that night. He nodded.

“Well, that guy, Argento, he made this one, too!”

“Oh, goodie.”

Steve raised an arm against the offending cushion that Eddie flung down at him, the two wrestling briefly before settling in and focusing on the movie. Steve honestly found it horribly boring – it had that one girl from ‘Labyrinth’ in it, a movie Eddie and Robin gushed about regularly, but not much else was going on to keep him interested. In general, watching his boyfriend’s animated profile was much more entertaining.

It had been in a sudden chase scene, a young girl running from some unseen pursuer and towards a gruesome fate that ‘Flash of the Blade’ by Iron Maiden had started to play and Eddie had been head-banging rhythmically within seconds. He turned to Steve, completely and utterly ecstatic, child-like grin splitting his face, and Steve’s heart had been so full he’d been unable to do much more than smile dreamily at his boyfriend. When Eddie had eased up on the frantic fidgeting and belting out the lyrics alongside the movie, he’d snuggled up to him and breathed in the scent of his warm curls until he’d dozed off.

He’d woken up just before the movie had ended. A lake was burning or something like that. When Eddie had turned to him with a huge grin and asked him what his favourite part of the movie had been, Steve honestly answered “The part with the Iron Maiden song." Eddie beamed.

“You liked that song, Stevie?”

“Yeah, it was cool.” Steve answered, not entirely untruthfully. It was less the song itself – more that it animated Eddie in a way Steve would like to see every single day for the rest of his life.

“The lyrics are fuckin’ awesome, too – kind of like a D&D, intrepid knight kind of theme!”

“Totally.” Steve smiled at him.

“You know…The Maiden are coming to Indianapolis in January – I was gonna go with Corroded Coffin but they’re all busy that weekend, so – so what if we went, together? I know it’s not your thing, I totally get if you don’t wanna go, but-“

“I’ll go with you.”

Eddie looked so excited that Steve’s heart skipped a beat. Yes. More of that. Keep looking at me like that.

“Oh, fuck, are you serious, Stevie? Fuckin’ A, man! I need to get organised!”

~~~~~~~

And so, Steve had committed to the gig, nearly as excited as Eddie for their little trip up to Indy. It wasn’t often that they managed to get the time to spend more than their evenings together, even now that they finally had their own apartment. It had taken a great deal of planning, and it should have been perfect. But it had all gone to shit.

The first thing that went wrong, as noted before, was both of them waking up sick. They’d been grouchy, neither of them looking forward to the long drive ahead. Steve was resentful of the fact that he would be crammed in an arena jampacked with sweaty, drunken metal dudes, and Eddie was resentful of the fact that Steve was resentful. Steve hadn’t mean to put a damper on their mood, but he truly felt awful and couldn’t imagine a worse way to spend his evening. He would much rather stay bundled up in bed with his sick boyfriend, where they could look after each other and enjoy each other’s company in peace. Maybe when they felt a little better, they could really enjoy their mutual cold in a more…intimate fashion. But no. They’d committed with both time and money. Car journey and concert it was.

The second thing that had gone wrong, after a bumpy but still salvageable morning, was Eddie losing their food, medicine and other supplies that he had just bought at the first gas station they stopped at. They were good for water, a six pack of one litre bottles in the trunk, and they figured since they’d be grabbing dinner later that evening, a couple of sandwiches and snacks for the road would suit them fine. Steve had volunteered to head into the store, knowing how distracted his boyfriend could get, but Eddie had waved him off and insisted it’d be fine. When Eddie had strolled back to the car 20 minutes later, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, Steve had asked him if everything was okay.

“More than okay, dude.” Eddie had grinned at him, then opened his backpack to reveal a freshly purchased bag of weed.

“Where did you-?”

“Ran into a previous client in the store – he deals now, and he gave me an old chum’s discount.”

Steve pulled out of the parking lot, thinking to himself that smoking up later on might make the miserable experience of being sick at a concert more bearable than if he’d been sober. It was about 10 minutes later that through the brain fog he realised he hadn’t seen Eddie carrying any kind of purchase from the store, and hadn’t seen anything but weed in his backpack.

“Munson, you did – get us food and stuff, right?”

Eddie, who had been lazily leaning back in his seat and rubbing at his nose with the palm of his hand, suddenly shot upright.

“Shit. SHIT.”

Steve jumped a little.

“What, dude?! Are you okay?”

Eddie groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“I left the stuff behind the gas station – I put the bag down when I was getting the weed.”

Steve gaped at him before cursing under his breath. He looked for the nearest opportunity to turn round and swung the car back in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing, man?”

“We might still be able to find it. I mean, what the fuck, Eddie? Drug deals?? Right now?”

Steve could feel the anger bubbling up steadily, his regular patience almost non-existent. Eddie was more than willing to rise to the occasion.

“It’s not like I meant to lose our shit, okay? I just – you know, I forget things.”

“That’s why I offered to go in myself!”

“I’m not an infant, Harrington, I can function well enough to buy crap at a store.”

“Clearly fucking not?! You left our stuff and spent our money on pot – thanks for fucking asking, by the way - when we could have easily found something closer to the gig. Like seriously, man, not cool.”

“UGH, I didn’t mean to leave it! I got distracted and I just – it was a good deal and I thought it would help us mellow out. That it would help you mellow out.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“Steve…..you can’t honestly tell me you don’t know how much of a fucking asshole you’ve been to me today?”

“I’m not the asshole who prioritised a fucking drug deal over food and medicine!”

“Ohh my god, Steve! I bought our fucking food, I bought our fucking medicine, I just forgot it, okay?! I forgot to pick the bag up off the ground, heaven forbid a guy make a mistake every once in while!”

Steve could see that Eddie was visibly upset, and he knew he felt awful about forgetting their things. He was about to apologise for overreacting when he noticed Eddie freeze up once again, patting his pockets frantically and moaning.

“What. Eddie, what? What’s wrong now?”

“….Can’t find my wallet. I think I left it in the bag.”

Steve could have sworn he saw red. They’d put almost all of their money together in Eddie’s wallet, leaving just enough for hotel fees in Steve’s, a stupid fucking thing to do in hindsight but something that neither of them had assumed would fuck them in the ass later.

“I genuinely don’t know what to say to you. Oh my fucking god.”

Steve saw Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, and he realised he had quite possibly never hated himself more than he did in that moment. He was acting just like his father, but he couldn’t seem to stop. The anger was so palpable he could hardly breathe.

They drove the rest of the way back to the store in silence. Eddie was yanking the passenger door open before the car had even come to a full stop, sprinting towards the back of the store. Steve watched as his boyfriend emerged from behind the building empty handed several moments later, taking in his devastated expression. He swore loudly before resting his head on the steering wheel, motionless as Eddie got back into the car.

“…I found a ten in my pocket, but we might need it for gas later on.” He heard Eddie mutter.

“We don’t. We need food and medicine more.”

“No, dude, we’re gonna need more gas.”

“And I’m telling you, we don’t. Come on, I’ll buy us stuff this time.”

Steve looked over at the older man and held his hand out expectantly for the money. The look Eddie shot his way was lethal. The metalhead slapped the bill into his palm.

“Knock yourself out, mom.”

Steve got out of the car.

“Rather be a mom than a brat.”

He slammed the door behind him.

~~~~~~

“Hh-HH! Heh’ENGXT’tchieww!! HDT’Tsiewww!! Eht’tchieww! Hh’ISSSH’ieww!!”

Eddie’s head rocked forward with the force of the fit, clutching the steering wheel like a lifeline. Luckily he hadn’t veered off course too much this time. He noticed suddenly that Steve had reached out to steady the wheel while he sneezed, and though the gesture was perfectly reasonable, he was already so angry with him that it just served to piss him off more than anything. He snuffled and elbowed Steve’s hand away.

“Dude, I got this. Leave it alone.”

Steve threw up his hands and rolled his eyes, a supremely immature gesture that made Eddie resent him all the more. It was a sickening feeling, being angry with Steve, and on top of his worsening cold Eddie didn’t know how much more he could take. He was angry at himself, as well. He felt stupid, so fucking stupid. Steve was right to be pissed at him for the colossal fuck-up he had managed to achieve – hell, we would be pissed at Steve had their roles been reversed.

What really fucking stung, though, was the disappointment and derision his boyfriend had directed his way. It was nasty and it wasn’t like anything he’d ever experienced before from the former jock, even when he really had been an asshole at school. He was normally such a sweetheart. He understood that Eddie could lose track of time, forget what he was doing in any given moment. It was part of what had made school so miserable – he had tried his best but it was like no matter how much he tried to focus, he just couldn’t. Like his brain was on constant overdrive. He thought Steve had accepted that about him, really understood him. But the way he’d looked at him when Eddie had messed up at the gas station, the tone of his voice – it hurt so badly he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He knew Steve was sick, and that made him sulky, but fuck, man.

He heard Steve gasp beside him. They’d both started sneezing in earnest a few hours ago, raging their way through the small box of tissues Steve had managed to buy for them alongside a bottle of Tylenol and a single sandwich that they had split. They were down to just a few tissues.

“HAAAEEESHHH’uuu!! HARRESHHHIEWW!! TISSSSH’ieww!!”

Eddie listened in vague appreciation to the rich vocal sound of Steve’s increasingly violent cold sneezes, wishing he didn’t hate him so much in that moment so he could enjoy them in full. He was concerned at the way they had Steve tumbling forward over his knees, jerking against the restraint of his seat belt. Any thought of them actually having a good time at this concert had all but vanished at this point, but to admit that out loud would be to admit defeat, and mean they’d put themselves through all this misery for fucking nothing.

Steve swiped the last two tissues from the box and blew his nose, a thick, crackling sound that betrayed just how congested he was becoming. Two wouldn’t be enough, Eddie knew, and his suspicions were confirmed when Steve rooted in his pocket to finish cleaning himself up with a used, balled-up tissue. Eddie sighed. He had a few bandanas in his backpack – he could offer one to Steve now, but he just couldn’t stand the thought of talking to him.

They drove for another 30 or so minutes before Eddie started to pull up to a gas station. Steve sat up and looked at him questioningly.

“Why are we stopping at a gas station?”

“To watch a fucking movie.”

“Eddie-“

“We’re fucking obviously getting gas, Steve - we’re not gonna last the rest of the drive.”

“With what money are you getting gas?”

Eddie glared at Steve, patience worn completely thin. God, the way he was talking to him like he was his fucking dad, or something. It was infuriating.

“We still have the money in your wallet – it would only cost a couple of bucks.”

“No, no – we worked it out, this is just enough for our hotel. We can’t show up short, they’d turn us away.”

“They’re not gonna get the chance to turn us away if we don’t even ghh-get th-there-hh!!”

Eddie scrubbed at his flaring nostrils in a desperate attempt to mollify the tickle, but luck was decidedly not on his side today.

“Ehh-!! EGXXXT’shiewww!! HAHDT’chieww!! IGSHHH!! HIGXT’shieww!! EHH’TSSCH’ieww!! Ahh…F-fuck…”

The sneezes were intense and incredibly wet, curling him over the steering wheel and forcing tears of irritation from his eyes. He felt Steve reach out to steady the wheel again, this time not fighting it. He was almost trembling in the aftermath of that fit, an unwelcome combination of pleasure and frustration prickling at his skin. He sniffled miserably.

“Bless you.”

He blushed in response to the blessing, neither of them having acknowledged each other’s sneezing for hours. Perhaps Steve had temporarily forgotten to be angry with him, given the dramatic scene he had just made. For the first time in their relationship, he cursed their shared fetish - it was making things increasingly complicated. He did not like the mixed signals his brain was sending him – ‘never talk to Steve ever again’ and ‘fuck Steve in the back seat right now’ were about as contradictory as could be, and the confusion only made him grumpier.

He continued to drive towards the gas station, about to pull in when Steve’s hand, still firmly wrapped round the wheel, twisted them away. Eddie yelped in surprise.

“Are you fucking insane, Harrington?! What are you doing?!”

“We don’t need gas, Munson. I told you already.”

Eddie could hardly believe what was happening. He had never known Steve to behave so – so childishly. It was fucking rich, considering the brat accusation Steve had hurled his way earlier that day. He smacked Steve’s hand away and continued onward past the gas station.

“Fine. If you fucking say so, King Steve.” He got a small kick of satisfaction watching Steve squirm in response, but otherwise saying nothing.

“We’re switching in 20 minutes.” Steve mumbled after a beat.

Eddie grunted in recognition. He wondered if Steve realised he wasn’t due to drive for another hour, but he was feeling far too petty and passive-aggressive to correct him.

~~~~~

Eddie was practically tearing his hair out. Some way, somehow, they had managed to get lost. Like, middle of nowhere, cornfields for days lost. Both of them had driven to Indianapolis before without a single issue. This had to be a curse. It just had to be.

The road map spread out over his knees made zero fucking sense – it didn’t help that Steve wouldn’t let him turn on the overhead light, and he was instead holding a torch with half-dead batteries casting a flickering beam over the endless configuration of road diagrams. He was starting to feel a little car sick for his efforts, taking short breaks to peer out of the window and find his bearings. The last of the Tylenol was doing fuck all for him, and he could not. Stop. Sneezing. Case in point, his breath started to hitch yet again.

“Heh-!!”

He fumbled in his pocket for his bandana, almost but not quite bringing it up to cover his mouth in time.

“ENGXTCH’tssieww!!”

The first sneeze burst out of him, pink nostrils flared wide in desperation, dousing the map in his lap with a cloud of spray. He muffled the next three into his bandana, gasping for breath when they finally subsided. This cold – this flu, perhaps – was absolutely kicking his ass. These sneezes gave him hardly any warning, taking on a life of their own and pitching him forward helplessly at their leisure. He blinked down at the map through bleary eyes, noticing to his chagrin that he had sneezed a veritable puddle all over Columbus and the surrounding terrain of about 20 miles. Luckily, not an area they should be anywhere near – though perhaps it couldn’t completely be written off given that they could literally be on god damn Mars as far as Eddie was concerned.

He abandoned the map, attempting to fold it neatly for all of 5 seconds before he was scrunching it up in anger and jamming it back into the glove box. Steve had stopped listening to his suggestions ages ago, anyway. He just kept driving down the endless expanse of the pitch black road, sneezing explosively every couple of minutes. Eddie was no longer glancing at his wristwatch, slowly resigning himself to the fact that they would, in fact, be missing the concert in its entirety. He would cry about it later when Steve couldn’t see. Right now, he was trying not to freak out about the fact that he could have sworn they had driven down this particular spread of infinite road before – not that it looked any different, the only visual markers being corn to the left, corn to the right, corn fucking everywhere.

It's not like this could get any worse.

It was as this traitorous thought flashed through Eddie’s mind that he heard Steve curse and pull the car to the side of the road, just as it sputtered miserably and abruptly stopped dead in its tracks.

~~~~~

They’d been sitting there in silence for at least 10 minutes before Steve started to shiver. It was well into the evening now and the lack of heating of any kind was really starting to get to him. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, at least – it wasn’t that bad, out here. The night sky was even brighter than Hawkins, brimming with the light of a billion stars. He remembered the night that Eddie had taken him up to Weathertop Hill and they’d stargazed for hours, never letting go of each other’s hands. The thought of it right now made his chest hurt. He was positive that Eddie would no longer want to be with him, not after today. In a sad way, he was already in a phase of pre-emptive acceptance – a form of self-protection where he convinced himself that the worst was bound to happen, so he may as well get ready for it. Robin told him he had low self-esteem, but he liked to think of it more as emotional pragmatism.

A sudden small hiccup of breath jolted Steve out of his ruminations. He peered over at his (probably soon to be ex) boyfriend’s back and noticed it was trembling. Another slightly louder gasp of breath graced the air and Steve realised with a sickly, sinking feeling that Eddie was crying. Eddie was crying because of him. Steve had felt pretty fucking awful about his behaviour in the past but nothing, nothing compared to how awful he felt in this moment. The pain in his chest seemed to pulse outwards and engulf him in its entirety.

“….Eddie? Baby?”

His voice sounded so fragile he even shocked himself. Eddie froze for a second before continuing to cry softly, giving Steve nothing in response. Steve noticed that the trembling had become full body shaking. He opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by a fit of sneezes that came on so quickly he only managed to catch the last one in Eddie’s ruined shirt.

“HEEEISSSHHH!! AEEESHHUUU!! HH’TISHHHH!! MMP’TSCHHH!!”

He blushed, wishing not for the first time in his life that he was able to control the volume and force of his sneezing. He normally loved sharing this fetish with Eddie, but in this moment it couldn’t be more of an inconvenience. He blew his nose as quietly as possible, which was not at all, before reaching out a tentative hand to rest in the centre of the older man’s spasming back. He felt Eddie flinch, but he didn’t move away. Steve frowned at the heat emanating beneath his palm, sizzling hot even through the fabric of Eddie’s long-sleeve tee. It startled him, given that he was sure he already had an elevated temperature himself – shouldn’t Eddie feel normal to him? Was he that much warmer?

He felt Eddie’s back expand under his fingertips before the older man was suddenly jerking forward with a series of tightly stifled sneezes, the first five almost completely silent besides a soft squelching sound. Steve rubbed a small circle between Eddie’s shoulder blades in a way that he hoped would be soothing, biting his bottom lip hard as concern coursed through him. Eddie continued to sneeze, finally giving in and letting them loose, the persistent cold-induced tickle leaving him gasping helplessly.

“HIG’tchieww!! Engxt’TCHIEWW!! ‘TCHIEWW!! Eh’NGXT’Tschieww!! Nnn….”

He’d thoroughly sprayed his palm with the fit, which he then wiped shakily on his thigh. Steve heard him sniffle thickly before drooping back against the windowpane. He leaned forward in his seat and placed his other hand on Eddie’s left shoulder.

“Eddie? Are you okay, honey?”

He heard Eddie mumble incoherently before a rumbling cough had him pitching forward again, muscles spasming under Steve’s palm with the effort. Steve cursed and rubbed his back through it. When Eddie’s breath evened out again, Steve used the hand on his shoulder to gently push him back into his seat. The metalhead still wouldn’t look at him, eyes stubbornly fixed to the right, but Steve barely noticed. He took in Eddie’s pale, tear-stained face, the heavy circles under his eyes, his painfully red nose which was leaking down to his lips. He looked pallid, and so, so unwell. His cheeks had little spots of colour on them, a sure sign of fever. Steve felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Ohh, Eds….”

He choked out a sob. It was too much. He hadn’t cried since the aftermath of their stint with Vecna, alone in Robin’s bathroom - and even that had been measured, controlled. He didn’t cry. Harringtons don’t cry. But all the same, here he was, bawling like a little kid. He felt sick, he felt like an asshole, they were lost and cold and hungry and tired and it felt like the end of the world so he just cried and cried and cried.

~~~~~

Eddie had intended to ignore Steve to his final breath. He was too weak to resist as the younger man pushed him back in his seat and out of the passive-aggressive contortion he had worked himself into against the car door. That last fit of sneezes had left his head swimming, and he was honestly grateful for the comfortable upholstery of his boyfriend’s BMW. Even as angry as he was, the warmth and weight of Steve’s hand on his back had been, for a moment, the most reassuring feeling in the world. But Steve didn’t need to know that. Steve could damn well wait until he was ready to forgive him.

But then Steve started crying.

Eddie spun round, eyes fixing firmly on Steve’s crumpled expression. It was terrifying, like seeing a parent or teacher or other unshakeable adult cry for the first time and realising they’re just an overgrown kid themself. His boyfriend looked so vulnerable, so lost, so unbelievably sad that Eddie found that he burst into tears as well. His strong, powerful boyfriend, the same man who had leapt headfirst into a lake in pitch darkness, who had ripped a demon bat monster in two with his bare hands, who had faced paranormal monsters to protect his friends countless times – that man, his Stevie, was crying like a little boy who’d lost his mommy in a supermarket. And it was all his fault.

He reached up and squeezed the hand on his shoulder.

“Stevie…Please don’t cry, Steve, please! It’s ok! We’re ok!”

He was sobbing almost as hard as Steve, ignoring the way the pounding in head was swelling to an almost unbearable throb. He leaned his body awkwardly over into Steve’s seat and wrapped his arms around him in a fierce hug. Fighting be damned, this entire fucking nightmare of a day be damned. He just wanted Steve to stop crying like the world was ending before he actually died of a broken heart.

“Eddie-!! I’m s-sorry-!” Steve choked out where he had buried his face against his shoulder, fingers digging fiercely into Eddie’s back. Eddie shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Stevie – I fucked it up! I always fuck things up!”

Admitting it out loud sent a new wave of sadness rushing through him and he cried harder, squeezing Steve tight.

“Y-you don’t-! You’re not-! It was m-my fault, I was just….awful to you! You didn’t do anything wrong, I fucked it up-!”

Steve sounded close to hyperventilating, so Eddie willed himself to calm down for the both of them. He shushed him gently, stroking his hair and holding his body close as it was wracked with gasping sobs. He’d been such a petty tool, trying to punish Steve with his silence. Steve had been right before – he was a brat, at least he had been today, and he needed to fucking grow up.

“Shh, honey….it’s ok, we were both being fucking assholes. We are fucking assholes, and that’s why we work so well together. We’re soul holes!!”

Steve snorted a brief laugh between sobs and Eddie felt the icy fingertips of dread loosen slightly from where they’d been squeezing his temples in a death grip. He could fix this. As long as they could love each other, everything else was insignificant. They would be okay.

He continued to hold Steve, ignoring the way his back was starting to protest at the angle he was holding himself at. The younger man was starting to calm down, occasional hiccupping breaths shaking him but otherwise slowing his crying. Eddie pressed small kisses to his hair, conscious of his runny nose and trying his best to angle himself in a way he wouldn’t make a total mess of the expertly crafted style Steve was so proud of.

He felt Steve tense in his grip, and started to ask what was wrong when Steve rocked forward against the protective cover of his shoulder and sneezed violently.

“HEHH’MPPTSXHH!! MPP’TSCHIEWW!!! MPPPTSCHHH!!!”

Eddie’s breath hitched, blood rushing south as he felt every shiver, every contraction of Steve’s muscular body in his arms. The sensation of his pointed nose pressing insistently up against his shoulder and the sheer volume of each sneeze so close to his ear had him reeling. They’d been particularly high-pitched for the former jock, making Eddie think he must have had a particularly irritating tickle in his nose. He moaned softly and stroked Steve’s back.

“Bless you, honey. Poor baby,” he sighed, noting that Steve hadn’t made any action to extract his face from where it remained pressed firmly up against him. He could feel the moistened fabric clinging to his skin.

“Did you make a mess, sweetheart?”

“….Ymmf.”

Eddie took that as a ‘yes’.

He gently sat back in his seat, extricating himself from Steve and watching as his boyfriend’s flushed, dripping face came into sight. A thick strand of mess hung between Steve’s left nostril and the damp patch on Eddie’s shirt. Steve scrambled for the shirt in his lap, gingerly wiping the mess away on Eddie’s shoulder and severing the connection before bringing it up to his own nose. His eyes were puffy and sore as he peered up at Eddie, blushing behind the bundle of fabric pressed to his face.

Eddie reached out and squeezed Steve’s thigh. A sudden sharp pain speared through his skull and he audibly groaned, pressing his head back against his seat. Steve took his hand in his own. They sat for a moment, not talking, but for the first time that day the silence was comfortable.

~~~~~

Steve’s head throbbed in the aftermath of what had to be one of the most intense cries of his life. It wasn’t something he wanted to experience in any regular capacity. He was also terribly embarrassed, even though it was just Eddie who had seen him. Robin was constantly reminding him that it was healthy to accept when you needed help, or to recognise when you were approaching your limit. Some metaphor about a pot boiling over that had just made Steve’s mind wander to the food he had planned to cook for when the kids came round to his apartment later that week. The point being, he should definitely work on his listening skills and Robin was right. Again.

He could feel Eddie shaking as he held his palm in his own. The older man was leaning back into his seat with a pained expression plastered to his face. Steve cleared his throat.

“So….”

Eddie squeezed his hand.

“Yeah, Big Boy?”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being ‘this is a total downer’ and 10 being ‘I would like to request some assistance in dying’, where are you at right now?”

He heard Eddie chuckle before moaning softly.

“About a gazillion. I feel….really fucking bad, Stevie.”

Steve turned his head to take in the older man’s appearance once more. He was deathly pale, looking even worse than he had just 10 minutes earlier. Steve tried not to panic.

“You look awful, Eds…” he cooed.

Eddie cracked a crooked smile at him.

“You sure know how to make a guy f-feel…special-hh’HH!! ENGXT’Chieww!! HDDT’chieww!! IGSHHH’ieww!! Hhh’HDT’chieww-IGT’chieww-ICKKSHH!! Ohhh, Jesus…”

Steve was unable to make out the spray in the dark, but he could hear just how wet and sickly each sneeze sounded. His cock throbbed in his jeans, unbelievably still as interested in Eddie’s impressive displays of sensitivity as ever. Eddie snuffled thickly and Steve held out the soiled shirt to him. Eddie took it and blew his nose on a dry spot, of which there were now exceedingly few. Steve rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Eddie’s hand. His boyfriend groaned before speaking again.

“Ugh, I can’t fucking stop. This has to be some new kind of super plague.”

“Well, it’s no walk in the park, that’s for sure.”

He felt Eddie squeeze his hand.

“What about you? Scale of 1 to 10?”

Steve paused, doing a quick mental scan of his general wellbeing. He felt like ass.

“…A billion, maybe? Not as bad as you.”

Eddie scoffed.

“You’ve gotta be feeling pretty bad to cry like that.”

Steve bristled, embarrassment pulsing through him.

“I-!! You were-! I just-!”

“Woahhh, dude, it’s okay – I’m not mocking you, or anything. I was cryin’ too. Before you even started. It’s no big deal, Stevie. I just know it’s not something you do very often – or, at all, actually?”

Steve sighed.

“Yeah. You know – you know my dad. How he feels about – vulnerability, or whatever.”

“Yeah.”

Steve felt the ever-present tickle in his sinuses flicker to life, suddenly and with little warning. He pitched forward with another round of messy cold sneezes.

“HH’RIISHHHH!! HAARRRESHEWW!! ITSSCHHHH!!”

“Engxt’chiew!! Hh!! HIG’Tchieww!! Ingxt’chieww!! ENGXT’TCHIEWWW!!”

Steve and Eddie made eye contact at the same time, sheepishly turning to look at one another behind their protective barriers of choice – Steve’s hands, steepled to his face, and Eddie’s elbow, which he gripped steadily with his other arm. They burst into laughter, stopping only when Steve buckled forward with a coughing fit, Eddie whacking him on the back as he proceeded to sputter and choke. He finally leant back, wiping the spittle from his lips.

“What the actual fuck is our life right now, dude.”

“You know? I think it’s actually pretty on brand for us, man.”

Steve shot a sardonic glance his way.

“Elaborate.”

“Just, you know – the first time I really spoke to you outside of the occasional encounter at school? I was literally on the run, a god damn murder suspect. We fought demon monsters in an alternate dimension. I figured out you liked me because we have this fucking obscure fetish and you kept popping boners all allergy season.”

Steve groaned.

“Shut upppp…”

Eddie didn’t shut up.

 “What I mean, is this: we’ve never done anything in an even remotely conventional fashion. I think I may genuinely be allergic to conformity. What’s another allergy to me?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I am. We are. It’s fitting that our first real fight be such a huge, dramatic affair that ends with us freezing to death on the side of a country road. Poetic, some might say.”

“We’re not going to die out here, man. Somebody’ll come by.”

Even as Steve said it, he was doubtful. They’d been driving alone for hours before the car had stopped and nothing had come from either direction since. More worryingly, though, was the fact that he could now see his own breath, and Eddie’s teeth were starting to chatter. He fiddled with the ring on Eddie’s index finger.

“Let’s get in the backseat, share some body heat, okay?”

He watched Eddie nod briskly, face scrunching up.

“Okay. Want to hold you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. It’s okay though, remember? It’s okay.”

~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later and the two were bundled up in the backseat of Steve’s car. They’d at least remembered to bring coats with them, but otherwise assumed due to the heat of the venue and the quick turn around from car to hotel to venue to car, they wouldn’t need such heavy padding. Luckily, Steve found an old blanket in the trunk from the last time they’d gone on a picnic, which was now firmly secured around them. Eddie complained the blanket was too scratchy, but Steve had replied that there was no way he could tell through his thick Winter parka. Eddie had eventually conceded.

Steve had wedged himself against the car door, the hood of his thick coat offering some cushioning. Eddie was lying in his arms, his back up against Steve’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. They nestled into each other, desperately seeking each other’s warmth. Eddie felt like a furnace to Steve – which, given the circumstances, was not unwelcome, but it worried him to no end that the long-haired man continued to shiver in his arms despite their combined heat.

They had retired Eddie’s Black Sabbath shirt as an honorary snot rag, moving on to Steve’s extra polo shirt as their new makeshift tissue. It was currently pressed up against Eddie’s face as he shook with yet another sneezing fit.

“ENGXT’tchieww!! HDDT’tchieww!! TSCH’ieww!! HAGT’TSCHIEWWW!!! Uhgg…”

He snuffled thickly, settling back against the younger man. Steve’s cock was hard, pressed up as it was against Eddie’s lower back. He loved being able to experience every tremor, every jerk that travelled through his poor love’s body as the sneezes rocked him back and forth. He knew Eddie could feel how excited he was, but they both ignored it.

The metalhead had suggested fooling around to keep them warm, and Steve had even entertained the idea, thinking he could maybe get past the tight band of tension squeezing at his temples. An orgasm might even lessen the discomfort. But then Eddie had all but swooned to the gravelly earth the second he attempted to get out of the car, and Steve had nipped that idea in the bud almost instantly. He sprinted over to his boyfriend and helped him to his feet – slowly, since that sprint had left his head swimming and black spots dancing before his eyes. He’d deposited Eddie in the backseat, grabbed the blanket, and arranged them as best he could.

Eddie had wanted to be the big spoon, but Steve had flat out refused, stating that he didn’t want to be responsible for squashing the older man to death in his weakened state. He had at least 20 pounds on him and the pressure of his solid musculature pressing the dungeon master up against the door was a surefire way to suffocate him. Eddie had argued that Steve was faring no better than he in the oxygen department, pointing out that he was still winded by the tumultuous journey from trunk to backseat. Steve told him to bite him. Eddie reached out and nibbled on his forearm.

So here they were, mercifully settled at last. Or, as settled as they could be, given that they were frequently curled upwards or jostled backwards by their damn near constant sneezing. As Eddie scrubbed his itchy nostrils against the fabric of the shirt, Steve pressed kisses to his fuzzy curls.

“Bless you, baby. That was a big one, at the end.”

“Mmm. They’re conspiring to kill me.”

Steve snorted.

“’They’? Your sneezes?”

“Absolutely. Always been out to get me, but now they’ve finally decided to put me out of my misery.”

“So dramatic.”

Eddie fidgeted in Steve’s arms, trying to realign himself to the choice position he had been in before his cold had so rudely uprooted him. Steve bit his lip as Eddie rubbed up against his cock, holding back a moan. The older man seemed to find a position he was happy with and went boneless against Steve, letting out a tiny little mewl of satisfaction. Steve tightened his arms around him, an overwhelming wave of affection urging him to draw his boyfriend closer to him.

“You’re so cute, Munson.”

“I know. Now tell me I’m pretty.”

“You’re so pretty.”

“Flatterer. Keep it coming.”

“You’re s-so-! Ohh, gonna-!! HH’HEH!!”

Eddie lifted the shirt in his grasp, angling it back over his shoulder. Steve frantically pressed his face into the folds, inhaled deeply enough to lift Eddie up an inch or two, and sneezed forcefully.

“HRRRRSHH’MPH!! TISHHHHH!! HAEEESHHH!! HEH-!! HEYYYESSSHEWWW!!!”

He groaned in the aftermath, head pounding. Eddie was right, this did feel like some kind of super plague. He was sneezing every couple of minutes or so like clockwork, and every fit seemed to wipe him out as if he’d finished running a marathon. He panted into the cloth for a moment longer, feeling his boyfriend clumsily wipe his nose and mouth as best he could from the awkward angle. He nodded, signalling it was ok for Eddie to lower the shirt. He felt the older man squirm slightly, curls brushing against his face as he angled himself back to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“God bless you, Stevie. Such a tickle.”

Steve blushed at the attention, his cock giving an appreciative throb in his jeans. He once again entertained the idea of fucking in the backseat, was about to vocalise this when Eddie hissed in pain, head pushing back and digging into Steve’s shoulder. He could see the grimace on the older man’s face.

“Baby?”

Eddie didn’t answer, riding out what Steve knew to be another round of deep throbs in his skull. Brow furrowed in concern, he stroked an arm gently up and down his boyfriend’s side as the dungeon master strained against him. His erection was flagging, momentarily catching up to the seriousness and decided unsexiness of the situation they were in. The older man finally seemed to relax, a shaky exhale leaving him. Steve nuzzled his face down into his curls.

“Feel so bad, Stevie…gettin’ worse…”

Eddie was panting slightly, the small puffs of exhalation visible in the frigid air.

“I’m sorry, honey.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He could feel his own body starting to ache, head swimming with fever. It’d only been an hour since their car had died, but they’d gotten so much sicker in that time that Steve was starting to worry in earnest. He didn’t think they would die, nothing quite so dramatic as that, but they would need more water soon at the pace they were needily gulping it down, and he was worried about Eddie’s fever. If Robin were there – god, how he wished she was – she’d tell him to worry about himself as well, before rattling off about a billion different contradictory fever reduction techniques. He smiled at the thought of her, his partner in crime, feeling slightly better for picturing her face.

He reached for a bottle of water and took a long drink before offering it to Eddie, forcing him to drink as well. When they were finished, he snuggled down again into his boyfriend’s curls.

“We’ll be okay, Munson. We survived the Upside Down, we can survive rural Indiana.”

~~~~~

Eddie had no idea how long it had been by the time he heard the familiar rumbling of an approaching vehicle through the foggy haze of his fever. He and Steve were in a state of persistent half-consciousness. They would both be right on the brink of sleep when one of them would succumb to a tickle in their nose, shaking them both to full wakefulness. It had gotten progressively less jarring after the fiftieth time; it almost felt routine.

The metalhead could feel Steve’s cock, half-hard, pressing up against him. He ought to be surprised his boyfriend could still feel arousal given their less than stellar circumstances, but then he would absolutely be the proverbial kettle calling the pot black. His own erection would come and go with every fit of sneezes from either himself or his boyfriend, making him feel like a horny middle schooler. He was almost glad he was too sick to be embarrassed about it. Almost.

He had just finished mumbling a blessing to Steve, his boyfriend having sprayed down the front of his coat with a fierce triple, when the unmistakeable crunch of tires on gravel perked him up faster than an espresso shot.

“Steve? Steve! I think there’s a car – no, yeah, there’s a fucking car, man!”

“Holy shit!”

He felt Steve start and attempted to shuffle off him, but found himself flopping helplessly backwards, entirely winded by the effort.

“Ugh, sorry…”

Steve gently rocked him forward and quickly arranged him so that he was sitting up in his seat, before kissing his cheek and scrambling onto the road.

“Be careful-!” Eddie shouted, immediately regretting raising his voice as he doubled over with a hacking cough. He brought the nearby water bottle to his lips with shaking hands and took a generous swig, gasping. He could make out the headlights of a van pulling up behind them, then the rumbles of a conversation. Alongside Steve’s voice, a rougher, deeper voice registered. A man, then. He swallowed the fear that this guy might clock them as a couple of queers – or maybe he was a serial killer? They were screwed either way. He closed his eyes and listened. No shouting, just a gentle back and forth. He heard Steve sneeze, then the other man chuckle. It was a friendly sound. He relaxed a little.

He started slightly at the sound of the door beside him opening, looking up to see Steve leaning over him.

“Hey, Eds. Great news, this guy – Leonard – he’s heading straight to Indianapolis. Before you ask, don’t worry, I saw his ID. He’s delivering deckchairs, or something? Anyway - he’s got some gas for the car, but when I told him we were sick he said we could ride in the back of his truck and he’d tow us the rest of the way.”

Eddie smiled softly, happy to see Steve looking a little more animated, even if he did look like death warmed up. The eye bags he was sporting made his droopy brown eyes look even lazier than usual. It was worrying, but still cute. Steve held out a hand and helped him climb out of the car. He felt shaky on his legs, like a baby deer. Glancing over Steve’s shoulder he spotted a jovial, middle-aged man approaching with a tow rope. He was sporting a flannel shirt over a pendulous beer belly, peaked cap on his head and a huge copper beard engulfing his face. He looked rough, but his eyes were kind and his smile was soothing.

“You must be Eddie!” Leonard said, walking over to them. He frowned a little as he took in the sight of the two of them up close. “Christ, boys, you look just about dead on your feet! Pardon me sayin’.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh.

“No, you’re right. We’ve been…better.”

Leonard smiled at him, looking paternal and endeared. Eddie liked the guy already – he sort of reminded him of Wayne, albeit a much more chipper Wayne.

“Well, don’t you worry. You and Steve just hop on in the back of the ol’ dream machine and I’ll take you far as you need to go. Y’all said you’re heading to Indy?”

“That was the plan.” Steve confirmed, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible.

“Great – like I said, I’m heading straight over there, but if you’d prefer, I know a decent little motel just outside city limits that’ll have some vacancies?”

“That would be great,” Eddie almost moaned, thinking that even the grubbiest motel mattress in the world would be heaven right about now.

“Sure thing, sure thing. Well, we should be there in less than hour, give or take.”

“Um, Leonard? I meant to ask but – where exactly are we?” Steve asked.

“Just outside of Rushville.”

Eddie and Steve gaped. They’d somehow managed to clear straight past Indianapolis altogether and keep on south. Their faces must have successfully conveyed their almost comical shock, as Leonard bellowed out a rumbling laugh.

“You boys really got the short end of the stick today, huh? Come on, get your asses in the truck – I’ll finish up here and we can get on the road.”

“Thank you, Leonard, really – this is – we were really in a rough place-“ Steve started.

“Don’t you worry, now. Go on, get – there are tissues in the back. I get hayfever something fierce come Spring.”

Eddie watched Steve nod before his strong arm was wrapped around his waist, supporting the metalhead as he walked them both to the Truck in question. They had to pause briefly for Eddie to sneeze, a helpless little fit of six partially stifled paroxysms. Leonard offered a cheery blessing from where he was securing their car, and Eddie blushed. It was going to be a long hour.

~~~~

Steve woke up, slowly, pulled out of sleep first by the slow halt of the truck and then the gentle rumble of Leonard’s voice.

“Boys? We’re here. Rise and shine, now.”

Steve blinked open his eyes, taking in Leonard’s kind expression as he leaned back over his shoulder to look at them. The former jock was aware of the weight of Eddie’s head on his shoulder, and with a sudden icy rush of panic moved to gently push him away. It wasn’t that he thought Leonard would do anything to them, per se, but they needed to be careful. Eddie already attracted so much attention, not that Steve would change anything about him for the world – but still.

Eddie groaned and sat up gradually, squashing his fists up against his eyes and moving them in slow circles. Steve noticed that his boyfriend had left a little pool of saliva – or was it snot – where he’d been resting on his shoulder. They’d both fallen asleep within minutes, the blessed heating of Leonard’s dream machine wrapping warmth around them like the plushest of blankets. Steve was relieved, having been prepared for the embarrassing scenario in which he and Eddie sneezed nonstop all over the inside of the poor man’s vehicle for 50 minutes straight. He was already extremely grateful and a little shocked that Leonard had taken in the sight of their painfully obvious illness and let them ride with him in the first place.

“You boys went out like a light. Sure is nice to be young, huh?”

Steve felt Eddie jump beside him, and realised the older man had temporarily forgotten where he was. He patted him on the shoulder before turning back to Leonard.

“I’m so sorry we just passed out on you, sir. We didn’t make for good company at all.”

“Don’t you worry about that, son. You looked like you needed a decent night’s sleep. Speaking of, you should be able to get some more shut-eye at this little establishment. ‘Rita’s Motel’ – sure, it’s not the Ritz, by any means, but she’s served me well.”

Steve unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward to look past Leonard at the small building in front of them. The motel was like any other, perhaps slightly homelier than most.

“Thank you, Leonard, for everything. I, uh, I really want to pay you back, but – we’re running low on cash, probably just enough for a night here, and-“

“I won’t hear it, Steve. You boys are clearly in a pinch. Not a single penny will I take. Now, come on, let’s get you inside. I’ll fill up the car while you sign in, then I’ll be on my way.”

Steve mumbled his thanks, over and over, feeling and sounding like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. The relief was overwhelming. Leonard slapped a broad palm down on his shoulder and chuckled, assuring him it was nothing. They were interrupted by a sudden burst of sneezes behind them. Steve turned and watched Eddie catch another three exceptionally loud and sickly sounding sneezes in his upraised hands.

“ENGGXXXTCHHH!!! IGXXT’SHIEWW!! Hahh’ENGXT’Tchiewww!!”

Steve’s heart lurched in his chest. He willed his cock to calm down; the last thing he wanted or needed in this very moment was to shield a mighty erection from their kind-hearted saviour. Eddie snuffled, the sound thick and incredibly messy. The older man blushed deeply behind his hands as he noticed both pairs of eyes trained on him – if he hadn’t been fully awake before, he sure was now.

“Good god, bless you!” Leonard exclaimed.

Eddie blushed an even darker shade of red, mumbling his thanks and frantically searching for something to clean himself up with, or perhaps a hole to go die in. Steve reached back beside Eddie and grabbed the almost full box of tissues Leonard had mentioned earlier. Eddie hesitated for a moment, and both Leonard and Steve seemed to realise his situation as he made no move to shift his hands from their steepled position over his face. They turned around to give the metalhead some privacy, Leonard making his way out of the truck and offering Steve a hand down out of the side door, having climbed over the seat to follow him.

“You take those tissues with you,” Leonard directed at Eddie as he opened up the exterior door for him to climb out. “Won’t be needing them for a while, anyways!”

Steve reached out to steady his boyfriend by the elbow, supporting him as he jumped down from the truck on shaky legs. True to his word, Leonard escorted them inside the antiquated reception area and got to talking with the small owlish looking woman behind the desk. Steve quickly realised this was the titular Rita, and that she was just as friendly and parental as the trucker.

“Oh, you poor things!” She cried, taking in the sight of the two of them, shivering pathetically behind Leonard’s great bulk. Both of them blushed to their ears – the attention was nice, but more than a little overwhelming.

Within minutes, Rita had signed them in and handed over the keys to their room. She had given them a discount, the cost far cheaper than Steve had been expecting. He wondered if it had anything to do with the violent triple of sneezes he had pathetically muffled into a balled up tissue as he gave her his details.  Maternal to her core, she had even thrust a bottle of Tylenol and another of cold medicine their way, free of charge from the little supply she kept on hand. It felt like the universe was righting itself for all the bad luck they’d suffered that day, putting such kind and generous people in their path. Eddie tried to offer the left-over money to Leonard when he came back in from topping up their car, but he refused.

“You boys take care, now. You need anything, you go to Rita, okay? You’ll help these kids out, won’t you, old girl?”

“I don’t know this ‘old girl’ you’re referring to, Len, but I will certainly be here if you need me, boys.”

Leonard gently slapped them both on the back before saying his goodbyes, and then Rita was leading them to their room. Eddie and Steve thanked her and closed the door behind her. They wordlessly shucked off their coats, climbed into the double bed, and were asleep in seconds.

~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Uncle Wayne?”

Wayne paused for a moment, recognising his nephew’s voice but taken aback by how worse for wear he sounded.

“You okay, son? What’re you doin’ callin’ me at 6 in the morning? I thought you’d be out all night at that concert.”

He heard Eddie sigh deeply before the unmistakable sound of him smothering a fit of coughs crackled down the line. Worry spread through his chest, that old paternal panic gripping him.

“Eddie?”

“Y-yeah, sorry. Actually, we, um? We didn’t make it. We got lost. And then we ran out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. And we’re both down with the fucking plague. So. I’m at a motel right now, a couple of miles outside of Indianapolis. We stayed here last night.”

Wayne blinked at the sudden overload of information. When he’d registered everything Eddie had told him, he sighed wearily.

“How in the hell did you and Steve manage to pull that off?” He light-heartedly jabbed.

“Ughh, I don’t know. We were fighting, like, all day, Wayne. We’re okay now but it was just awful. And so fucking stupid.”

Wayne sighed again.

“Well, as long as you’re okay. Situations like this are the kind of thing that make or break a couple, so if you’re both doing just fine now, I’d say you have successfully navigated your way to the next stage of your relationship.”

“You think so?”

Wayne smiled. Eddie seemed to have perked right up at that, just as intended.

“I do. Now, what do you need me for, you menace?”

~~~~~~

“HHHR’RRISHHH’IEW!! HRRRSHHCH’UU!! AESSSHHUUU!!!”

“Oh my god, Stevie. Bless you, angel!”

“Mmn. Thank you.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, shivering as he came inside from his trip to the payphone. Rita’s Motel had comfortable mattresses but was alarmingly lacking in working telephones. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his coat, unceremoniously dumping it on the floor, before stripping off the rest of his clothes. He took in the sight of Steve bundled up in bed, looking painfully adorable with his messy hair and little red nose, before climbing in beside him. He nuzzled up to him, rubbing his cold nose up against Steve’s.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’re you feeling, big boy?”

“Like shit, still, but better. The cold medicine worked. Headache’s gone.” Steve pressed a small kiss to his lips. “What about you?”

Eddie kissed him back.

“Compared to last night? Waaay better, man.”

Steve furrowed his brow and reach out to press the back of his hand to his boyfriend’s forehead.

“You’re still really warm, but not quite so bad. I was really worried about you, honey.”

Eddie closed his eyes, pushing his thigh between Steve’s legs and bringing the younger man’s hand down from his forehead to clutch it against his chest.

“Worried about you too, baby.”

They lay there for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence before Steve spoke up.

“Did you get through to Wayne?”

“Oh yeah, shit. Sorry. Yeah. He’s coming through with Hopper later. Should get here around mid-day, he thinks.”

Steve blinked at him.

“Hopper’s coming? Why?”

“He said he owed him one. Hopper’ll come down with Wayne, then he’ll drive your car back up while we die a slow, miserable death in the back of Wayne’s car.”

“Oh…”

“Why even call Wayne to come down in the first place if we have a car full of gas, y’know? He just didn’t want us to drive, and towing the car would be a huge pain in the ass.”

“Right. Sorry. Took me a moment.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed Steve right on the tip of his nose.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re sick.”

Steve’s nose wrinkled up at the teasing touch of Eddie’s lips against the sensitive skin.

“Eddie, Mm’gonna…gonna snee-!”

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it out for me.”

Steve obeyed, taking in a final gasping breath, chest swelling to capacity, before sneezing unhindered onto his boyfriend’s face.

“HAAARESHHIIIEWW!! AEESHHHUUUU!! GITSCHHH’EWW!! TISSSSCHH’IEWW!!”

Eddie moaned in appreciation at the sensation of spray drenching his features, eyes closing reflexively against the force of it. Steve’s sneezes were already so loud and cock-teasingly desperate on a regular day, but the never-ending tickle his cold had inflicted upon him made them even more powerful. Within moments, Eddie was almost completely hard, the sudden rush of blood to his cock leaving him more than a little dizzy.

“Fuuuck, baby! Such big sneezes. Bless you.”

~~~~

Steve reached for a tissue from the box lying between them – Rita had gifted them with another several alongside Leonard’s gracious offering – and gently wiped the spray from his boyfriend’s face, blushing slightly to see droplets starting to roll their way across Eddie’s cheeks to the pillowcase.

“Damn, those were big!”

“Mmhmm. Just how I like them. You’re so gorgeous when you have a tickle, Stevie.”

Steve reached down between Eddie’s legs, smirking at the gasp the older man choked out as he gave his cock a teasing squeeze.

“You really are feeling better, huh?” He started to pump the length, long, slow strokes that squeezed the head of Eddie’s cock before making their way back down.

“Fuckk, Steve-!”

“Is that good, baby?”

“So good, always so good, holy shit-!”

Eddie bucked involuntarily in his grasp at a particularly hard squeeze to the base of his cock. Steve’s breath stuttered, feeling Eddie’s thigh press up against his own budding erection as his body jerked against him. Moaning, he pressed their foreheads together.

“You wanna get off with me, Munson?”

Eddie laughed breathily.

“Is the pope a catholic?”

“Ugh, don’t make me think about God right now, man.”

“Why? I’m right here.” Eddie grinned at him, looking far too pleased with himself. The cocky expression was somewhat weakened by his miserable complexion and swollen pink nose.

Steve wanted to think of a witty retort, but any thoughts of meeting Eddie with some cleverly formulated response vanished the second he felt his boyfriend’s sweaty palm wrapping around his cock and jerking it with several fast, hard pulls.

“Ohh, yeah,” He moaned, losing himself in the sensation, eyes fluttering shut and teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He was already embarrassingly close. His own hand faltered only temporarily before returning to stroking his boyfriend in earnest. Eddie pushed his thigh up harder between Steve’s legs, and he gasped.

“Mm, you like that, big boy?” Eddie moaned, mouthing at Steve’s lips. Steve closed the space between them and kissed him, both groaning as Eddie sucked hard on Steve’s tongue. They couldn’t keep it up much longer, though, noses far too stuffed up. It didn’t matter; they exchanged small kisses again and again, hands working each other in the ways they knew they liked best.

Steve peered down his nose at Eddie, his boyfriend’s face a rictus of concentrated pleasure, eyelashes fluttering  above blushing cheeks as he panted and moaned. He looked so good like this; Steve felt himself lurch even closer to orgasm. He pictured the older man sneezing messily, an endless fit on loop for him in his mind, even as he stared at Eddie’s nose just at the end of his own. His nostrils would flare every now and then, in pleasure rather than in response to a burgeoning tickle. The subtle movements were such a tease – Steve wanted to watch those poor pink nostrils flare to capacity as Eddie built to a powerful sneezing fit. He cock throbbed against his boyfriend’s fingers.

Mind made up, Steve pushed their noses together and rubbed them back and forth. Eddie glanced down at them, slightly bewildered and looking temporarily cross-eyed. It was so cute – Steve chuckled under his breath, all the while continuing to rub his nose against Eddie’s, hoping to coax a sneeze (or five) out of him. He felt Eddie’s nostrils flaring wildly as he rubbed his nose down the side of the metalhead’s twitching appendage. His own nostrils flared minutely in a sort of sympathy twitch.

“Hh-HH!! Ohh, Stevie, s’gonna make me – make me-!!”

Steve groaned, just about managing to hold back from coming at his boyfriend’s words. He loved that Eddie played up every tickle for his pleasure, knew just what to say to work him all the way up. He nuzzled their noses together, slowly, feeling every tick of Eddie’s nostrils against him as they flared wide. A few more breathy, mewling gasps escaped from the older man before he was pulling back with a frantic urgency.

Steve started to come at the sight of the metalhead poised right on the precipice of losing all control. His eyebrows arched, mouth hanging slack as his nostrils twitched and twitched. He buckled forward at last, aiming each sneeze down between them. Steve’s orgasm engulfed him as he felt his boyfriend’s fit bathe his cock in spray, huge, cold-induced sneezes that he himself had helped to tease out.

“HIDDDTT’SHIEEWWW!! AHDDTT’ZSHIEWW!! EHh-NGXTCH’CHIEWW!! GXXTSH’TZSIEW!!”

A few more desperate, hitching gasps before a final, definitive “EHH’DZZTT’TSCHIEWW!!!” burst out of Eddie, so strong he trembled with it.

The orgasm continued to pulse outwards from his cock and throughout his limbs, the sweetest pleasure, leaving him shaking and moaning the metalhead’s name, coming in heavy spurts into the cage of his fingers.

He wound down from his peak, feeling sleepy all at once but willing himself to stay awake. Eddie was staring at him with a look of such intense desire that Steve’s spent cock pulsed pitifully in response. His grip retightened on Eddie’s cock and he resumed his stroking, desperate to watch his boyfriend fall into an orgasm of his own.

“Bless you, baby, fuckkk. That felt so good. You’re incredible.”

Eddie groaned, sniffling at the slight mess that dripped from his nose after that body-bending fit. He looked up at Steve before raising his hand to his lips and licking at the mess the former jock had left all over his fingers.

“Mm. You taste amazing, Stevie. Not that I can taste all that much right now.” He flashed a cheeky grin at Steve.

Steve grinned back and pulled Eddie closer to him with his free arm, pressing their chests flush together. It made jerking his boyfriend off a little harder, but they both sighed in satisfaction at the skin contact. Steve felt Eddie’s thighs starting to twitch, saw how his face had started to screw up – sure signs of his approaching orgasm. Not to mention the filthy, nonsensical ramblings pouring from his mouth that normally started up when he began to fall to pieces.

Eddie reached up to cup Steve’s cheek with his clean hand, tilting his face towards him.

“Do you have a tickle, baby? Sneeze for me?”

Steve sniffled experimentally. His cold had left him with a near-constant tickle just on the edge of fully culminating. He reached up briefly to rub the tip of his nose in small circles, feeling his breath catch as the tickle started to build anew. He sniffled a few more times for good measure.

“Yeah….oh-hohhh, yeah, definitely gonna…gonna sneeze..!”

“Unnnhh, Stevie!”

As Steve’s eyes started to flutter shut, he took in the sight of his boyfriend frozen right on the edge of orgasm. He was flushed all the way down to his chest, tattoos standing out in stark contrast. He was so damn pretty. Steve gasped, burying his nose in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“Get ready, baby-! It’s coming…gonna sneeze for you...HH-HAH!!”

One more final inhale, chest expanding against Eddie’s, before the tickle crested and he was pitching forward helplessly.

“HAHH’TISSSCHHH’IEWW!! ITSCCHHHIEWW!! HH-H-HUHH!! HUHHRESSHHHOOOhh!!”

Eddie’s strangled moan was loud in his ear as he snuffled against his neck, strong arm wrapped around the older man’s slender waist, feeling him strain and shiver against him. It looked and sounded like a particularly intense orgasm for the metalhead, and Steve felt a sort of pride mingled with affection spreading through his chest. He loved making Eddie feel good. He felt his hard cock jerk in his grasp, painting his fingers and both of their lower stomachs in hot stripes of cum.

Steve was almost asleep as his boyfriend came down from his high, mumbling and giggling as endorphins rushed through his system.

“Ohh, Steve, holy fuck!”

“Mmf.” Steve snuggled closer to Eddie, nestling up to him with the intention to pass the fuck out.

“Stevie. Steve. Not yet, honey. We need to clean up. And put some clothes on before Wayne gets here.”

Steve stubbornly did not budge, even as Eddie’s captured cock softened in his limp grasp.

“Noooo. They won’t be here for hours, anyway…” He nestled further into Eddie, then moaned in displeasure as his boyfriend wriggled free.

“Nuh-uh. Up, now. I don’t trust you to wake up in time. Not after that nut, and with that fever.”

“Ungggg……okay……”

Eddie helped Steve sit up, both of them swooning at the effort. Now that their orgasms had cleared their heads, the discomfort of their sickness was starting to filter through the afterglow. Eddie wiped Steve’s hand clean with a fresh tissue.

“Let’s jump in the shower – just for a couple of minutes, dude, stop whining! We smell like sick people and cum.”

Steve nodded. Eddie may be blunt, but he was right. He squeezed his hand in his own.

“Okay. I really, really love you, by the way. Let’s not fight over stupid shit anymore. Please?”

Eddie kissed him softly before wrapping his arms around Steve’s muscular shoulders.

“Yeah. No more fighting. Love you so much.”

They held each other for a couple more minutes before stumbling to their feet, shaky on their legs en route to the small bathroom and finding it hilarious. Their weekend might not have gone even remotely as planned, but neither of them regretted it, knowing they’d look back on it all one day and remember only the love they felt for each other as the tepid shower water sluiced over their feverish skin.

[fckyouiwontdowhatyoutellme]

This is so choppy and weird I'm sorry

Imagine if you will Steve, Robin and Eddie at some concert, waiting infront of the location to be let in.

Steve and Robin went together, knowing that Eddie will be there too. Eddie and Steve are in the very beginnings of something but despite Steve being usually super confident in his flirting, he wasn't confident enough to put the moves on Eddie yet.

By the time Steve and Robin arrive at the concert location Steve has already decided to elevate his confidence with some beer and weed so now he's in his giggly, loopy mode and Robin already had it.

Eddie is already there with his guys by the time the other two arrive but he is also not confident enough to approach Steve alone, so he just awkwardly steals some glances towards where he and Robin stand around. He sees Steve whisper something to Robin, while pointing at him and almost has a heartattack when Robin walks over.

"Okay so I am not entirely sure what dingus over there said but he either wanted me to hit you or hit on you, so I am going to do the first one" she says with a light punch to a very confused Eddies arm.

Eddie just awkwardly laughs and waves Steve over to them as well. Steve follows on wobbly legs and falls into another fit of giggles when he almost knocks over Robin. Eddie has already heard of the infamous giggly Steve but witnessing it in person is a hole new level. He is absolutely enamoured.

Within a few minutes Robin and Steve are sitting next to Eddie and his friends on the floor, Robin chatting with the guys and Steve...well Steve decided to flirt.

Unfortunately the only thing his drunk fuzzy brain can come up with is trying to give Eddie a wet willie as an excuse to be close to him. So now Eddie has to deal with a giggly drunk Steve constantly poking his spit wet finger into his ear (failing to actually hit his ear 80% of the time because he's that drunk) and he can't even be mad because Steve looks just way too cute like that.

So Eddie endures the poking attacks on his face, neck, arm, literally anywhere Steve can reach and once he has enough liquid courage himself dares to bite Steve's finger hovering infront of his face. To Eddie's delight that makes his opponent blush like crazy (he ignores Jeff and Grant pointing out that he's blushing as well).

So as the night goes on the two of them are stuck in a poke/biting war and basically all over each other even during the concert. It eventually evolves into sneaking a kiss onto whatever part of the other is closest. Gareth and Robin yell at them to just get a room already to wich Steve simply responds: "Yeah I'm planning on that".

They do get into a room but only with much help of Robin and the Corroded Coffin guys because by now they're both giggly drunk/high messes who can barely walk straight (ha!). Their poking/biting/smooching war goes on the entire way back to Robin & Steve's appartment and when they finally fall into Steve's bed still giggling they manage to sneak an actual kiss on the lips despite being uncoordinated as fuck. After that they're both out like a light and Robin doesn't have to get out her earplugs much to her delight.

They do talk about it all when they wake up all tangled together, still in sweaty beer soaked clothes from the night before and laughing about how stupid their drunk selves decided to flirt.

And when someone asks months later why Steve gives Eddie a wet willie with the fondest look ever on his face, Robin just sighs and tells the story of her dingus and dork and how that became their love language.

[steviesbicrisis]

Corroded coffin AU

Eddie promised himself he would moderate a little more his weed consumptions. Not quit, obviously, just avoid waking up and not remembering what he did the day before.

So, when he ends up in front of a goat, during one of their after parties, he knows he did some calculations wrong.

He pulls away the joint from his lips, just staring at the goat. Who seems to be staring back. What the fuck.

He frowns, glancing between his half-joint and the goat.

Gareth appears on his side «dude, what the fuck did you put in this?» Eddie gestures at the blunt between his fingers «I’m seeing weird shit!»

«whatever you’re hallucinating about, dude, can’t be weirder than this fucking goat»

«you see it too???» Eddie yells in Gareth’s ear, causing him to jump back.

«Jesus Fucking Christ, Munson! I need functioning ears to play!»

«How can I not yell? There’s a fucking goat at our after party!» he’s gesturing to the animal who, surprisingly, looked completely unfazed by the noise around them.

They start arguing about their dealer, then about the importance of pet care and somehow they end up discussing the constitutional rights of farm animals when two familiar teens awkwardly approach them.

«Oh, now I seriously hope I’m hallucinating because you two hellspawns shouldn’t be here! Where’s your mother?» Eddie shrieks. He knows that he will be blamed both for the goat and Dustin and Lucas' presence at their adults-only party.

«Uhm we haven’t seen him but we were just about to leave!! right, Dustin?»

«Oh yes, we wouldn’t want to impose on anyone here! We’re just taking Biquette back and-» Dustin grabs the rope tied around the goat’s neck and leans back, Eddie jumps both on his and Lucas’ shoulders, giving them no chance to escape.

«This thing is yours? Where did you get it? And why is it here» he’s using what Steve has many times defined as “parenting voice”, which seems to be working well, based on the scared looks on both boys’ faces.

«W-well, that’s not important! We’re taking him back, let’s go Biquette!» Dustin pulls at the rope, but the goat- Biquette- shows no intention of following him.

The goat seems content where it is for some reason.

«What even is a Biquette?» Eddie wonders, out loud.

«It’s a goat!» Robin appears behind Eddie and leans on his shoulder, smirking.

He jumps «what the fuck is going on today with you people appearing out of nowhere? Also, I can tell it’s a goat!»

«Dude, I walked like a normal person. You’re just high» she deadpans «and, for your information, ‘Biquette’ is goat in French. I personally suggested that name.»

«it’s called Goat the Goat?»

«Precisely.»

Eddie wants to laugh. It’s fucking ridiculous, he’s high, he’s celebrating one of the best concerts his band has ever done and the kids adopted a goat and called it Goat.

«I don’t know if Steve will be more pissed about you two being here or Baguette the Goat» Eddie wonders, bringing his half-joint to his lips once again. The situation is ridiculous enough, smoking a little more won’t change much, he tells himself.

«It’s Biquette!» Dustin, Lucas, and Robin correct him.

«Look, we just lost her after the concert and split so we could find him fast and bring her back home. But now that Biquette is safe with us we can go. Steve doesn’t need to know! Pleaseee» Dustin is using his puppy eyes on Eddie and he hates him because it is working.

«I can’t not tell him, He will find out and he would blame it all on me!»

«Eddie you can’t! Steve would make us bring back Biquette and if we do, they will kill her»

«who would kill her? What are you talking about?» He doesn’t even care about the goat, he wants to avoid making Steve mad.

Dustin and Lucas begin an intricate and very detailed description of their adventure they had before going to their concert, Eddie is kind of lost and Dustin is using too many words but he catches “not producing milk anymore” and “abattoir”. They’re describing the hardships of pushing a goat out of a small fence hole when he spots Jeff and Grant walking toward the exit with Will and Mike.

«Are you kidding me- hey! You little shits, come here!» the teens' eyes wide comically and they would've probably run off if it weren't for his bandmates.

«We were just kicking them out, they made up this ridiculous story about a goat just to stay here» Jeff informs him.

«Yeah, and we don't want to make Steve mad» Grant adds, shaking his head in fear.

Eddie wonders when his boyfriend got comfortable enough with his bandmates that he has no problem scolding them. He will never tell Steve but he actually loves it. Makes him all mushy inside and all that disgusting lovely dovely shit he feels since they got together.

He realizes he must be blocking the view of the goat and moves to the side.

«Biquette!» Will exclaims, relieved, as Grant says «the goat is real?»

Eddie can feel a very strong headache coming.

«Listen. I don't care about the tearful story of saggy old Goat the goat's rescuing, you four and not supposed to be here, that thing» he points dramatically at Biquette «definitely isn't supposed to be here and tonight I did one of my best performances yet so I deserve to get wasted, have some nice post-show sex» the four teens make disgusted noises and faces, Robin shakes turns away saying "too much info, dude!" but Eddie ignores them «and definitely not deal with this circus. So take this thing back where you stole it from and do it fast, before Steve finds out!»

«It might be too late for that. Also, bold of you to assume you'll be getting any post-show sex today.»

Eddie winces, shoulders down, and slowly turns around. Steve is behind him -seriously, what is it with everyone sneaking behind him tonight?- hands on his hips and grave look with Max and El right behind him, snickering.

«Oh, hi love! aren't you a sight for the eyes?»

«Flattery works on you Munson, not me. I'm taking the little shits home and then getting rid of that» he gestures at Biquette «because I can't have one fucking night of fun in my life, then we’ll talk about you going behind my back»

The teens erupt in protests, all of them giving their personal reason as to why they have to keep the goat "she's so cute" "they will kill her!" "we're family now!" and "the fence hole was too small, no way she can fit back there!".

Steve completely ignores them and takes the rope off of Dustin's hand, pulling towards the exit. Biquette pulls back, having no intention of leaving.

«What the fuck is wrong with this thing now? I thought the music was torturing it.»

«Actually, I think Biquette loves metal» Will points out.

«No fucking way dude» Gareth shakes his head, incredulous.

«No, Will might be right! She basically ran towards the stage before, remember?»

«Oh shit, she even ran into the party, it must’ve been because of the music!»

While they argue amongst themselves, Eddie has eyes only for Biquette. Suddenly, the goat doesn’t seem that old and saggy like before, she’s almost cute with that twitching eye and the knotted fur. Yeah the smell isn’t the best, but nothing a nice bath can’t fix, right?

«We’re keeping her» he doesn’t raise his voice, but somehow they all hear him and stop talking, looking surprised.

Steve is the one breaking the silence «no we’re not, no fucking way»

«Steve, sweetie, pleaseee» Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling the cutest face he can master «it’s a goat who loves metal! How can I let her go? She will be brutally murdered! She loves my music Stevie.»

«We can just give her to a farm and let her live the rest of her days in peace! There’s no need to adopt something else.»

«there’s absolute need!! Right guys?» he turns to his band mates, who don’t look very happy to be put in the spot.

«I mean, having a Metal Goat would be fucking cool but, Steve us to be okay with it» Grant admits and Jeff and Gareth nod along.

«Wait, what? Aren't I the leader of this band?»

«Yes, and Steve is the boss of you» Gareth deadpans, making everyone -but Eddie- laugh.

He has still his arms around Steve’s neck «Pretty pleaseee, Stevie, love of my life, Apple of my eye, pretty b-»

«Oh my God, pleas stop! We can’t Eddie!» he’s exasperated which means, Eddie realizes with a grin, he’s very close at giving up.

«I promise I will feed her, clean after her and brush her!» he adds for good measure.

He stares at Steve with a small pout until Steve sighs «okay, okay, Jesus Christ, the fucking goat will stay.»

The teens erupt in loud cheers, Lucas even hugs the goat, regretting it immediately because of the smell.

Eddie is leaving kisses all over Steve’s face, giggling.

«Yeah okay, I get it!» Steve is smiling as well «But you have to take care of her, otherwise we bring her back.»

«Of course, I will I promise!I will feed her everyday, wash her and give her a metal make over!» the last part is accompanied by cheers from the rest of the band.

«No metal makeover please, poor thing. Ugh, I cannot believe you’re adopting a goat just because she likes your music!»

«You mean, we’re adopting! I accepted the custody of six kids for you! You can accept our little Biquette here.»

Even tho his plan succeeded, Eddie keeps his arms where they rest around Steve’s neck, and Steve pulls him close placing an arm around his middle.

«Just because I accepted this crazy idea, it doesn’t mean you’re getting any action tonight, Munson.»

«actually, I just managed to convince you adopt a goat, I’d say the chances of me making you change your mind about my well deserved post-show sex are pretty high.»

Their friends make gag noises and complains, Eddie even hears Max say “c’mon Biquette, your innocent eyes cannot see this thing”.

Eddie flips them off and grossly makes out with Steve, just to annoy their friends. And because he’s still high.

What a fucking night.

.

.

.

.

Small note: thank you for this prompt, I had so much fun writing about it! I’m still laughing my ass off at the idea of a Metal Goat. Life is weird.

[bettyfrommars]

Hi Betty 🤗 Can we hear if Playgirl!Eddie and Reader ended up together? What would their relationship look like down the road? Would reader have to deal with jealousy?

Well, I did slip in the second title "How I Met Your Mother" last night to be cheeky, but I think playgirl!Eddie and reader are very well matched. They both have their own careers and pursuits, and she's the type that always keeps him guessing. She's not always available, she lets him chase her a bit, which he loves. I've never been a rockstar, or even remotely famous, but I can imagine that it becomes hard to find true friends and people you can trust; people who would still want to be around you if the money and the fame were gone, and I'd like to believe Eddie finds that in reader. She keeps him down to earth and reminds him of home.

I think Eddie would be totally fine with being faithful, but there would be SO much opportunity to mess up with the way women throw themselves at him. Reader is jealous in the same way that Eddie is, because they are obsessed with each other, but I think she would trust him until he gave her a reason not to. It wasn't as easy in the 90's for rockstars to communicate with loved ones while they were touring as it is now with mobile phone texting and video chat, so there would be a lot of landline phone sex in hotel rooms and reader sending him off with sexy polaroid's for later. But then there are some nights when he can't get a hold of reader because she's at work or with her friends, and HE is the one who has a jealous fit because he doesn't want her to forget about him and move on with some guy who can give her a stable, normal life.

As the relationship progresses, I think he ends up flying reader out to his different concert locations, and maybe he buys a big house in Hawkins with a recording studio, and he brings her there to introduce her to everyone, tells her he wants them to make it a home together. But maybe that spooks reader because she is working on her own career in LA, and she is very independent. She's in love with Eddie but she also doesn't want to get pinned down to a small town again.

So, they have a fight and break up, and she returns to LA alone. A few months go by and she's in traffic when the new Corroded Coffin song comes on the radio, and she realizes it's all about how much he loves her, how it's killing him to be without her, and that he will always wait for her. Her name is even in the lyrics. She drives the rest of the way home in tears because she's missed him so much, and she's been so sad and lonely, but she feared that she fucked things up for good.

And there he is, waiting for her outside of her apartment. He drove there in one of his restored muscle cars, a black Chevelle or Nova maybe, because he knew the song was coming out that day and he hoped that she would have a change of heart.

But her heart still belonged to him, and she tells him that. He says he doesn't care where they live, as long as she'll always be his girl, and she says that she'll make Hawkins her home, if it means she can wake up next to him whenever possible.

And then they kiss. And then proceed to have the type of make-up sex that could shatter windows and part the sea. Caligula would blush.

[questionablequeeries]

Fade To Black by Metallica

Slamming, screeching, terror. A rope cut short. Ready for the end.

“Hey, Munson, you okay?” Steve asked, and Eddie couldn’t help but to notice the concern in his voice as they marched dutifully to Lover’s Lake.

“Well, I’ve been better, Harrington.” Eddie sighed, using the name like a shield, “I’m either a Satanic serial killer or a coward depending on who you ask.” He kept his voice soft, didn’t want the kids to join the Munson Pity Party.

“Those people are wrong on both sides.” Steve insisted. Eddie cast a curious glance sideways to the former jock, former sailor, and current shockingly nice guy, “You’re coming with us to face the unknown. I think that’s pretty brave, just like…” His face screwed up in thought, “Froyo?”

Eddie actually laughed, “I swear you’re fucking with me.” He grinned, delighting in the slightly sheepish smirk he got back, “If I’m Frodo, would that make you my Sam? Gonna carry me across Mordor?” He teased.

“Sure, whatever. Dork.” Steve shoved Eddie lightly, mirth in his eyes.

Wheels speeding, legs pumping, a weight slamming into his back. Down, down, down.

“What if I’m just…empty?” Eddie whispered to Steve as they sat shoulder to shoulder in the camper, feeling soft fingers comb through his snarled curls. They were creeping towards a line they were both scared to cross, and Eddie needed Steve to understand what he was signing up for, “‘I was me, but now I’m gone.’ What if the old me’s dead somewhere and the new me’s hollow inside?”

Steve made a soft sound, incomprehensible, as he worked out a particular knot, “Then I guess we’ll hold a birthday for the birth of the new you.”

“C’mon, be serious.” Eddie whacked Steve lightly, “I’m not exactly a heroic type. I don’t stand in the face of an incomprehensible evil, I don’t give rousing speeches to empower the troops. I’m dark inside.”

“Then let us help you find your light, Eddie.” Steve shifted, slowly, tentatively intertwining their fingers as if he was dealing with a skittish raccoon, “I think you’re pretty heroic, by the way. What was it you said about cynical eyes seeing true love in diving? Sure seems like you swam through the gate for me, Mr. Hero.”

Eddie blushed brightly, “Shut up, Steve.” He mumbled.

Stand and fight. Be a hero. Bodies hurling against shield, arms straining, grip failing.

“Hey…” Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s and Eddie could swear he tasted bubblegum bonanza lipgloss, “Come back, okay? You’re just the distraction.” His voice was so full of pleading that Eddie couldn’t help reaching out, stroking his cheek with a calloused thumb.

“I’m gonna be fine, Stevie. I’ve got the kid with me, so just you listen to my concert.” Eddie promised, pressing up against the other to rest his head over heart for the briefest of moments, “Gonna turn you into a metalhead yet.”

“You wish, Eds.” Steve quirked an amused little smile.

Tail around his neck. Biting, tearing, chewing. Screaming. His own? Can’t breathe. It hurts, Wayne! Dustin? Vision blurring, dark enclosing. Goodbye.

Steve ran to the body, breath caught in his throat, “No, no, no, no!” He skidded to his knees and clutched at the hand, “Eddie, wake up! Wake up!”

“Steve, he’s…” Dustin couldn’t bring himself to say it, bottom lip quivering.

“We-We have to bring him back! I’m not leaving him here!” Steve yelled, scooping his Eddie into his arms, “I promised I’d carry him from Mordor! I can’t just leave him here!”

“Steve!” Nancy grabbed Steve’s shoulders, “Steve, he’s gone. We have living people we need to get through that gate.”

“But…But…” Steve tried to argue before he set Eddie back down, knowing that she was right. He pocketed his mood ring and straightened up, the leader, the protector, the man who could cry in silence but not right now, “Let’s go.”

Steve wasn’t even afforded the chance to mourn properly as Hell came for Hawkins. He was so tired, almost ready for the end so Sam and Frodo could be together again. He’d tried to give the ring to Wayne when Dustin delivered the necklace, but apparently he was just so pitiable he was allowed to keep it, or maybe Wayne understood why he needed it more. He wore it on his pinky, twisting it as he looked up at the darkening sky.

Vision growing, fangs itching, wings outstretched, claws sharp. Hungry.

@steddie-week

Also, the ao3 link if you’d like to subscribe:

[xenon-demon]

ok so HI 👋 you're gonna get multiple of these by me because I wanna know everything. but first. I wanna know about the steddie soulmate tattoos because I looOOove a good soulmate fic??? 👀👀

LUIIIIIIII please ask as MANY questions as you want I love talking about all the different versions of steddie that exist in my brain 🤩 thanks so much for the question!!!

SO this is actually my First Ever Steddie WIP 🥲 and it was inspired by something I saw on Twitter where the make up artist who designed Eddie’s tattoos was like “yeah the bats tattoo is actually a reference to Steve and how both Steve and Eddie were chomped on by the demobats” and everyone was like "OMG STEDDIE SOULMATE TATTOOS REAL?" So I took that and ran with it lmao. The conceit of this soulmate universe is that a tattoo forms on your body the moment you fall in love with your soulmate, and the tattoo is in some way symbolic of that moment.

Eddie's tattoo is the bats, obviously, and Steve's tattoo is of Eddie's guitar, spanning the length of his ribcage on his left side. That tattoo appeared when Dustin gave Steve the play-by-play of The Most Metal Concert Ever™ while they were both in Eddie's hospital room waiting for him to wake up from his post-near-death-experience coma; Steve visualized Eddie doing that in all his glory, though about how Eddie saved Dustin's life, and then BAM. Soulmate tattoo. Dustin will never let him live it down.

Also Steve and Robin have a tattoo for each other because I refuse to write a soulmate AU where Stobin are not soulmates in some way, even if platonic soulmates are not a thing in universe <3 (although in this particular AU platonic soulmates ARE a thing)

Have a look under the cut if you'd like to see Eddie's POV of the moment he got his soulmate tattoo ;) (yes it's That Scene from canon because of course it is)

Send me an ask about my WIPs!

He stops short the moment his brain registers what’s happening in front of him. Steve Harrington, in all his shirtless glory, is currently wailing on that goddamned bat with nothing more than his bare hands. He’s got it by the tail and swings it around over his head before slamming it into the ground, grunting with the exertion of it. Before it has a chance to move, Steve swings it back up again and slams it back down just as hard. Even in the gloom of this nightmare realm, Eddie can see the way his muscles flex with the strain. It’s not like Steve’s muscles are difficult to spot, okay - for all jocks are the enemy, Eddie can respect an attractive man, and he’d certainly been respecting Steve’s athletic physique when he stripped off in the boat ten minutes ago. Seeing Steve shirtless and seeing Steve’s nicely toned upper body in action are two very different things, however, and Eddie most certainly was not prepared for the latter.

It doesn’t end there, though, because Steve’s next move is to step on the damn thing’s neck and pull its tail until its head tears clean off its body, with his bare hands. Eddie thinks he mentioned the ‘bare hands’ bit already, but fuck it, it bears repeating. Eddie’s just watching this happen, wide-eyed, when Steve fucking spits blood onto the bat’s corpse, leaving a string of sticky red fluid trailing from his lips. Holy shit, when did he bite that thing? He’s breathing hard, chest heaving from the adrenaline, and even though it’s on the chilly side his torso is shiny with sweat. Steve tilts his head back, mouth open and chest still heaving, and it makes the blood trailing from his mouth fall back against his chin. Eddie could almost pretend it’s something else dripping from those plush lips, if he tried, but he’s so buzzed from the adrenaline and the absolutely obscene display in front of him that he can’t quite make the fantasy consolidate.

It’s the hottest thing Eddie’s ever seen.

He doesn’t even get to enjoy it though, because as soon as he registers that thought in his brain, there’s a tingling sensation on his right forearm. It starts near the crease of his arm, and within a few seconds it’s spread outwards and down towards his wrist, about halfway down his forearm. The tingling starts to intensify, turns more into a warm, not-unpleasant burning sensation, and Jesus fucking Christ this had better not be what Eddie thinks it is.