#Argyll and bite

[dependently-und3cided]

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Til Death Do Us Part

A Steddie oneshot

Eddie was sitting in Steve's house. . .well, actually lying in Steve's house. He was still pretty banged up, and considering the town still thought he was a murderer, he needed to hide out for a while, and Steve Harrington's was the perfect place. It still felt weird to think that Steve was a good guy, but it was much too evident, and it made Eddie realize that he jumped to conclusions as quickly as others did about him. It's weird how connected they are now. First through Dustin, then through trauma, and now through bat bites. These scars were going to be more permanent than a marriage certificate. Who would have thought that he would be married with a kid by age 20. . .with Steve Harrington of all people? The thought made him laugh.

"What are you laughing about in here?" Steve asked as he popped into the room.

"I was thinking that these bat bites of ours are pretty permanent," Eddie smirked. "We're practically married."

"We are not married," Steve scoffed.

"Are you telling me we're getting divorced?" Eddie asked with a gasp. "So soon. . .oh, sweetheart, tell me what I did so I can make it up to you! Think of the kids, Steve!"

"Well, you didn't listen to me when I told you not to be a hero, so there's that," Steve said. "Not to mention the fact that you made Lucas feel bad about playing basketball, and you divided him and his friends as well as his sister. So, there's that as well."

"Shit, yeah, I do deserve the divorce," Eddie said, wincing and looking remorseful. "I'm not much better than my father, am I?"

"Hey, that not - I didn't mean it like that, Eddie. I'm sorry. Yeah, it's too soon to joke about it," Steve said softly. "Did you apologize to the kids? I mean, you did. I was there."

"Well, yeah," Eddie muttered.

"Was your dad actually sorry for anything he ever did? Would he have done what you did and tried to buy us more time? Would he have found a place for lost sheep to go to?" Steve asked.

"Well, no," Eddie admitted.

"Than you're a better man than your father ever will be," Steve shrugged. "Hold on."

Steve left the room, and a moment later, he returned with his pillow. He placed it on the bed next to him.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asked.

"Sleeping with my husband," Steve said.

"So, no divorce then?" Eddie asked with a grin.

"Are you kidding me? No way, I'm raising these hellions without a partner," Steve said. "You said it, we're married. Til death do us part, asshole."

"Goodnight, Mr. Munson," Eddie grinned.

He laughed as he sank down onto the bed beside Steve, who leaned over to turn off the light. He was thankful that Steve left the light on. Eddie watched as his husband closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. A deep wave of affection came over him as he studied Steve’s features. Oh, shit, what was that? Was he developing feelings for his husband? He liked girls. . .right? No, it was just indigestion. Eddie sighed with relief and closed his eyes.

"Steven, why are you sleeping with a man?" Robin's voice floated into Eddie's ears.

Eddie's eyes slowly opened, and he groaned quietly against the morning light streaming through the window. Steve was on his back, his eyes closed. Robin was standing over him, her hands on her hips.

"Oh my God, Robin, you can't just ask why two men are sleeping together this early in the morning," Steve groaned, his eyes remaining closed.

"Is there something you want to tell me, buddy?" Robin asked.

"Ugh, can't a guy sleep with his husband without any third degree?" Steve asked.

Neither one of them had noticed that Eddie was awake, much to Eddie's amusement.

"His what?!" Robin exclaimed and Eddie nearly laughed.

"Eddie said last night that the bat bites made us practically married," Steve said and groaned. "Don't make a big deal out of it, Robin. We're platonically married."

"Okay, I'll just let the kids know that their Daddies won't come downstairs because they're too busy platonically sleeping together," Robin said dryly. "It doesn't look platonic to me."

"Robin, stop, he doesn't like me that way," Steve sighed. "I doubt he likes men and women the way that I do or the way that I like him. I'll get up. They're probably going to want breakfast."

"Steve, he was clearly flirting with you! No one calls people "big boy" like that and means it platonically!" Robin exclaimed.

Eddie held in a breath until Robin and Steve left the room. He let it out with a loud gasp.

"Holy shit!" Eddie exclaimed. "I was flirting with Steve?!"

Eddie's eyes widened as he thought about all of his interactions with men. Yes, now that he's thinking about it, there was a definite attraction to certain jocks. Sure, he actually hated some of them, but Steve, he was pretty sure he hated for no reason back then. He did nothing to him or his friends, and he had always kept Hagan, as well as the other basketball players, on a tight lease. Well, he really tried to. Whenever he watched Steve play while in the gym, he always got irrationally angry at the sight of him. Maybe it wasn't hate. . .no, it definitely wasn't hate because he always wanted to bite him. It was so often that Eddie had, honest to God, thought that he was turning into a cannibal.

"Oh, fuck! Fuckity, fuck, fuck, shit! Goddamnit!" Eddie exclaimed.

As the days passed by, Eddie really tried to push his feelings for Steve aside. He wanted Steve to remain in his life and the one really romantic relationship he had he totally fucked up. No, he wasn't good at that shit and it would only ruin what he had with Steve now. It didn't help that Steve was basically taking care of him. Luckily, he was able to move around, and with the help of Robin, he was able to move downstairs. Unfortunately, she decided that she needed to talk her best friend up.

"I already know how great Steve is, Robin," Eddie mumbled. "I married him, didn't I?"

"No, you got married by a couple of interdimensional bats," Robin said. "You did not make the conscious decision at the time to marry my best friend."

"Why are you trying to sell me on Steve? I don't like him like that. I don't like men either," Eddie said as he lied out of his ass.

"You don't?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "And I wasn't necessarily trying to convince you to do anything. I was just talking about how great Steve is."

"Well, if you think he's so great, why don't you date him?" Eddie asked.

"Well, I would, but he's got the hots for someone else. We're also strictly platonic. Let's see what else? . . . Oh! There's also the fact that I'm a lesbian," Robin said.

"Shit, seriously?" Eddie asked and stared at her for a while, not saying anything. "Goddamnit! Okay! Okay! I'm also. . .not exactly straight. I like men, I like women, and I am head over heels for Steve Harrington. Happy?"

"Well, yes and no. You know, I wasn't trying to pressure you into outing yourself, right?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled. "I was pressuring myself."

"Thank you for telling me," Robin said.

"Thank you for telling me," Eddie grinned.

"Are you going to tell Steve?" Robin asked.

"Nope. Never," Eddie said.

"Why?" Robin asked.

"I tend to mess up in that area, so why risk what I have with Steve now?" Eddie asked.

"Because these scars you carry are proof that every day could be your last, and I don't think telling Steve is going to scare him off," Robin said softly. "He might surprise you."

"I know he likes me, which I don't understand why," Eddie said. "My husband can do so much better."

"How do you know?" Robin asked.

"You guys weren't exactly quiet the other day. It made me realize that I like both, that I've been flirting with Steve," Eddie said.

"So, you're running away, being a chicken shit, because you've already decided that you're going to hurt him?" She asked with narrowed eyes.

"I would never purposely hurt him," Eddie said.

"Well, leading him on and thinking it's going to go somewhere is hurting him. So, whether you decide to go forward with your relationship or not, you're going to have to talk to him because you're going to hurt him either way. But you want to know what a good way of not hurting him is? . . . DECIDING TO FUCKING BE WITH HIM, YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!" Robin shrieked. "Get your head out your ass. You both deserve to be with each other. We're all scared of telling people how we feel, but you know what I did after we averted the apocalypse?. . .I mean, eventually, I told Vickie how I felt. So, buck up. You're hurting yourself unnecessarily and Steve, especially since you're the one who knows that you like him and he likes you. Meanwhile, he's left in the dark about how you feel. I will not see Steve hurt. Got it?!"

Robin hit him over the head with a couch pillow. Eddie shrieked.

"Alright! Alright, I'll talk to him! Can I heal first?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, that's fine, take your time," Robin said calmly, lowering the pillow. "So, do you want to be with him?"

"Of course I want to be with him. . .I'm just scared," Eddie said. "All of this is new."

"Well, I did say you could take your time," Robin said. "And if you tell Steve how scared you are of messing this up, he'll understand completely, and I'm sure you can both work through it together. . . You know, if you decide to be with him"

"This is fucking crazy. . .Steve Harrington likes me. I can't believe it. Nope! No way," Eddie said shaking his head.

"Yeah, I can't believe it either," Robin laughed.

"Fuck off," Eddie rolled his eyes.

Steve strolled through the door with a sigh as he walked into the living.

"Okay, the kids are all at home. Now we can have some time to ourselves. Well, us and Robin," Steve grinned.

He sat down on Eddie's other and kissed Eddie's temple as he wrapped his arm around him. It had quickly become a thing with them. . .to always be touching. Apparently, they were kissing each other on the head now.

"Hi, honey, did the kids give you a hard time?" Eddie asked as he squeezed his knee.

He could feel his eyes lighting up at Steve as he launched into details about the car ride. God, this was so fucking domestic and he loved it. More days passed, and he was able to move around on his own, but he was still in a lot of pain. Apparently, Steve was, too, but he had neglected to say anything until Eddie was cuddling up to him in bed and his arm wrapped around his stomach. Steve involuntarily winced. Yeah, the bat bites were no joke. Neither was their venom, which, according to the doctors were never going to go away. Luckily, Argyle and Jonathan offered a solution, but they arrived just as Steve was driving Robin to Vickie's.

"Uh, are we waiting for Steve?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, turns out he's in pain too," Eddie said as Argyle guided him to the couch. "He's just hasn't said anything. He prefers to suffer in silence, I guess."

"Bat bites are a bitch, huh?" Argyle asked.

"Yeah, the only good thing that's come from it is the permanent marriage between me and Steve," Eddie said with a grin.

"What?" Jonathan asked.

"It's a running joke," Eddie shrugged.

"With the whole kids thing, yeah, that makes sense," Argyle said.

"So, is Steve a good husband?" Jonathan smirked.

"Hell yeah!" Eddie exclaimed, slapping his knee. "Couldn't ask for a better baby daddy."

"Seriously?" Jonathan scoffed.

"You've got something against my husband, Byers?" Eddie smirked.

"It's just hard to imagine Steve being mature enough to handle being married," Jonathan said. "Let alone to a guy."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Eddie asked, the smirk dropping from his lips.

"Just that he's a notorious ladies man, Eddie. I wouldn't get your hopes, man. He's not exactly comfortable with. . .," Jonathan said, trailing off.

"With people like me," Eddie said, looking at him with hard eyes. "Did you just make an assumption about my sexuality, Byers?"

"Oh, man," Argyle said nervously. "I think Jonathan was trying to look out for you, man."

"I'm not his little brother, I'm a grown man," Eddie sighed.

"That's a fair point," Argyle said.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to do that, but I just trying to warn you about what kind of guy Steve is," Jonathan said. "I shouldn't have made an assumption about you."

"What kind of guy do you think that Steve is? Are you calling him homophobic in his own home?" Eddie asked.

"I think he's upset you're insulting his husband, Jonathan," Argyle said.

"I just want to know why you think that about Steve," Eddie said. "That's all."

Eddie was really trying not to show Jonathan how angry he is but the guy was making it difficult.

"He called me queer once," Jonathan said.

"That's it? He called you queer and that automatically makes him homophobic? I've used that word, and I'm about as straight as a cooked noodle," Eddie said defensively. "So, when, pray tell, did he call you this?"

"It was a few years ago," he muttered.

Eddie could tell that Jonathan was starting to realize how ridiculous it was.

"Look, man, I get where you're coming from, I do because I was pretty sure I hated Steve for a long time, and because of that, I held onto my prejudiced views about jocks for a long time. My reasoning behind that is clearly not the same as yours. . .at least, I hope not. After everything that Steve has done, how can you still think anything negative about the man?" Eddie asked.

"You can do great things and still have hateful thoughts," Jonathan said.

"He's not homophobic, you fucking idiot! You would know that if you had bothered to try and get to know him in the last few years," Eddie rolled his eyes. "He shouldn't have to keep apologizing for shit he's already apologized for."

"How do you know that?" Jonathan asked. "You haven't known him that long."

"It's all about quality, not about quantity, and I clearly know him better than you do, Byers," Eddie spat. "Your own brother feels safe around him. The kids look up to him. Nancy trusts him. Your mother and Hopper love him. Jesus, what is this really about?"

"Will won't shut up about him!" Jonathan snapped. "Every time they hang out or Steve drops him off, Will comes home gushing about him and I'm just worried. . ."

"What? That he's going to think that Steve’s the better older brother?" Eddie asked, and then he laughed. "That's stupid. That's even stupider than you holding onto a dumb grudge. You know what Will does when he's over here with his friends and Steve. . . He talks about you. It's non-stop, actually. The kid loves you, and no one is ever going to replace you. So, get that out of your thick skull. Trust me when I say this: Steve Harrington is not homophobic."

"Yeah, okay," Jonathan said softly.

"You need to talk to Steve about this and Will," Eddie said. "And Byers?"

"Yeah?"

"If you ever insult my husband again, I'll punch your lights out," Eddie said.

"Noted. I'm sorry. . . Are you in love with him?" He asked curiously.

"Head over heels, man," Eddie said.

"So, are we good?" Argyle asked.

"Yeah, we're good," Eddie said in amusement as he shook Jonathan's hand.

"Oh, thank God, I thought that was going to get really awkward there for a minute," Argyle said, and they laughed.

Later that night, Eddie was lying in bed with Steve, cradling him from behind. His hand was up Steve’s shirt, carassing his stomach right above his bat bites. He didn't want to let this go, but he was also ready to risk it all for Steve Harrington.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm in love with you," Eddie said softly.

Steve turned around in his arms so he was looking at him. His hazel eyes were big and round, looking at him hopefully. The light from the lamp beside his side of the bed was revealing all of the colors in Steve's eyes. The green and the brown intermingled beautifully, but the light also made his eyes look a little bit golden. Eddie sighed. God, he was beautiful.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I'm in love with you too," Steve whispered.

"I know."

"Did you just fucking Han Solo - mmpf!"

Eddie crashed his lips to Steve’s, kissing him harshly. Steve smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around Eddie gently as he threw his leg over Eddie's. Steve’s eagerly kissed him back, his fingers cupping the back of Eddie's head, tugging on his hair. Eddie moaned into his mouth. Steve gasped for breath as he broke the kiss.

"Is this really happening?" Steve asked.

"Til death do us part, asshole."

[fyeaheddiemunson]

[lavenderstobins]

have u ever thought abt a twilight ronance au... Nancy as Edward... I don't think you NEED the entire plot or other characters, the simply premise of Nancy and her family being a twilight-esque vampire brood and her sparkling in the sun and not wanting to sleep with Robin because what if they break the bedroom is so fun lol

I actually have! Except. Nancy is Rosalie.

The idea I had is that Steve is Edward (platonically, obviously) and Robin's Bella because the idea of vampire Steve accidentally befriending this walking hazard of a human who suddenly seems to become vampire bait is incredibly funny to me.

actually I just remembered I talked about this with a friend before and my messages to them are just as insane as I remember

head in my hands. don't do this to me anon don't make me thinking about twilight au again (okay but vickie as jacob and tammy as victoria and chrissy as bree)

[mysweetsinfulobsessions]

Elly and Aidan in Argylle (2024)

[steveseddie]

foolproof

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: mistletoe | rating: t | wc: 995 | tags: eddie has a crush, and a plan, getting together, jealous eddie, spicy six

read on ao3

After the third time Steve ends up under the mistletoe with someone who isn’t him, Eddie is ready to burn every single sprig of that fucking plant from the face of the earth. It’s like the mistletoe has something against him with the way it insists on making Steve kiss everyone here except Eddie. 

“Maybe you jinxed yourself by calling it a foolproof plan,” Robin says, her eyes twinkling with amusement at how Eddie glares at Steve and Argyle as the former kisses the latter’s cheek. 

“It was a good plan!” Eddie protests, crossing his arms. They hurt a little from spending all afternoon hanging mistletoe around Steve’s house, hoping to end up under it with him. 

“It was a dingus plan,” Robin huffs. “A good plan would’ve been to tell Steve you wanna kiss him.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes. “And where’s the fun in that, Buckley?”

“Oh because you’re having so much fun watching Steve make out with everyone except you,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“There hasn’t been any making out!” Eddie says through gritted teeth. 

There was a sloppy kiss to Robin’s forehead, a quick kiss to Argyle’s cheek, and an awkward peck to Nancy’s lips. 

“Not yet,” Robin says, gesturing at Steve standing under another mistletoe with Jonathan this time.

“Motherfucker!” Eddie grumbles angrily. Next to him, Robin giggles. “How does it keep happening?”

Robin shrugs as Nancy and Argyle notice the other two and start chanting, “kiss, kiss, kiss!”

Eddie wants to yell at them to shut up but bites his lip and glares– at them, the mistletoe, and Jonathan.

Especially when he leans in, whispering something that makes Steve blush. Eddie doesn’t know what he’ll do if they kiss. “Buckley, you need to stop them. I can’t watch this,” he says, grabbing Robin’s shoulders and shaking them. 

She shoves him away. “Dude, what do you want me to do?”

Eddie shrugs. “Start a fire?”

“I’m not burning Steve’s house down because you’re a dumbass who refuses to admit his feelings.” 

Eddie lets out a whiny, “Buckleyyyyy.” 

But she shows no mercy and joins Argyle and Nancy’s chanting instead. 

When he glances at Jonathan and Steve again, their faces are only inches apart, twin smiles playing at their lips– lips that are too close.  

“Fuck.”

Fuck this. Fuck his plan. Fuck his life. 

“Nope,” Eddie mutters as Jonathan leans even closer. “I need a smoke.” 

“Wait, Eddie–” Robin starts but he walks away before she can say anything else. 

He stands on the porch and grabs a cigarette. He’s about to light it up when something falls on his hair.

“The fuck?” Eddie bats away whatever just landed on him, hoping it’s not a dying bird. When it ends up on the porch steps, he lets out a humorless laugh. “Of fucking course!”

It’s the mistletoe Eddie hung on the porch when he arrived, hoping to lead Steve outside at some point and get caught under it with him. Foolproof plan, my ass. 

“Fuck you,” Eddie tells the plant, and in a fit of rage, flicks open his Zippo and lights that up instead of the cigarette. “Ha! Who’s laughing now, you piece of shit?” 

“Who are you talking to?” A voice behind him says, startling Eddie.

“Jesus!” He yelps, turning around to find Steve. He freezes like a deer caught in headlights, forgetting about the mistletoe burning away in his hand until it singes his finger. He drops it with a hiss and puts it out with his foot. “Christ, Harrington! They should put a bell on you!” 

Steve holds his hands up. “Sorry, what are you– is that mistletoe?” He asks, glancing at the blackened sprig. 

“Um, yes.”

“And why are you lighting it on fire?”

“I was trying to smoke it?” Eddie tries but gets a skeptical eyebrow raise in return. “No, I just hate it.”

“You were the one who insisted we put it everywhere,” he deadpans. 

Eddie pouts. “Well, I changed my mind, but you sure love it, don’t you? Or it loves you at least. You’ve been under it all night.”

Steve hangs a hand from his neck. “I don’t know how it keeps happening.”

“You seemed quite pleased about it,” Eddie says bitterly, making Steve frown. “At least you did with Jonathan. You were all–” He gestures at Steve’s face, “–blushy and shit. Actually I’m surprised you’re out here– what? Did you need some fresh air after making out with him?” 

Steve’s eyes go wide. “Making out with– What? He kissed my cheek and sent me looking for you.” 

Eddie blinks. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Steve huffs, “so stop being jealous.”

“I’m– not !” 

“You are,” Steve says with a snort. “It was Jon who pointed it out. He said you were trying to murder him with your eyes.”

Eddie winces, embarrassed. 

“Then he said he knew I was disappointed it wasn’t you under the mistletoe and started teasing me. That’s why I was blushing, Eddie.”

“You wanted it to be me?” Eddie asks softly. 

“Duh.”

“Oh. I– uh, brought all this mistletoe because I wanted an excuse to kiss you.” 

Steve chuckles amusedly. “You could’ve just said you wanted to.”

“Yeah, I get that now,” Eddie says, tugging some hair in front of his face. 

“So,” Steve says, nudging Eddie with his elbow. “Anything you want to say to me now?”

Eddie purses his lips. “Yeah, uh, do you have some cream or lotion? I think I gave myself a rash from all the mistletoe–”

Steve laughs then glances down at Eddie’s hands and notices the tiny red splotches. “Wait, really? Shit, Eddie.”

“Guess I’m as allergic to mistletoe as mistletoe is to me,” he says with a snigger.

Steve shakes his head fondly. “C’mon, let’s take care of that.”

“Will you kiss it better after?” 

“Sure, Eds,” Steve grins as he guides him inside. “And then I’ll kiss you for real.”

Eddie grins. Sounds like a great plan.

Take that, Buckley.

[steddiealltheway]

Steve looks at Eddie and takes a deep breath. He can ask this. He really can. It's not that big of a deal.

"Hey, Eddie?"

Eddie glances up from the small book he's writing in and raises his eyebrows.

"Can you give me a hickey?"

The book shuts quickly, but, other than that, Eddie remains relatively frozen in place.

Steve shifts to sit up a little straighter against the wall of Eddie's bedroom as he explains, "There’s this girl who keeps coming into Family Video who is really persistent. I've tried to drop hints that I'm not into her, but she isn't getting it. And Robin suggested that I needed to appear to be in a relationship so she would stop."

Actually, Robin had told him that he needs to be direct and reject her, but he didn't want to be cruel. So, he suggested that the two of them should pretend to be in a relationship. But Robin only looked at him in disgust and told him that she would not be taking the fall for his problem.

"Why don't you just reject her?" Eddie asks.

Steve sighs. Why do people keep having to ask him that? "It's not the Family Video way."

Eddie snorts and glances away, pausing for a moment before turning back. "Why me?"

Steve shrugs. "You're the only friend my age that I can ask. It would scar me and Robin for life, and there's no way I'm asking Nancy."

"You know who would do it with no questions asked?" Eddie asks.

"Who?"

"Argyle."

Steve laughs. "Yeah, but I don't really know the guy."

Eddie softly smiles and nudges his shoulder. "So you're saying I make you comfortable?"

Steve looks at him, wondering why he's phrasing it like it's a question. "Yes," he confirms.

For some reason, it seems to fluster Eddie, but he quickly nods and sets down his book. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'll give you a hickey," Eddie says.

Steve swallows and runs a hand through his hair. "Cool. Cool. Uh, I guess we should do that now?"

Eddie nods, but neither of them move.

A few seconds pass before Eddie clears his throat and asks, "So, how are we doing this?"

Steve shrugs. "However you're comfortable with, but you should probably be in front of me."

Eddie nods and says, "Right." Then, he shifts and swings a leg over Steve's lap, straddling him on his bed.

Steve's heart beats a little faster. He hadn't thought this far into his plan, and he certainly hadn't expected Eddie to make him feel this way.

Eddie slowly leans his head down to Steve's neck then sits back, biting his lip in thought but not saying anything.

"What?" Steve asks.

Eddie fidgets with his rings and says, "This will be easier if we're standing up or laying down. Sitting like this is going to hurt my back."

Steve knows that either position is going to kill him, but the thought of his knees buckling while standing up has him deciding, "Well, we're already on the bed, so..."

Eddie nods at him and moves so Steve can lie down.

As he gets comfortable, Eddie climbs on top of him, hovering in a way that must be a damn workout.

Steve laughs, "You don't have to do a plank over me. You can get comfortable."

Eddie blushes a bit then settles his weight over Steve's body. And oh. Yeah, that feels nice.

Steve reaches up to hold Eddie's hair back so he can look at him. And shit, he didn't realize this is an angle he wants to see Eddie at more often.

"You're still okay to do this?" Eddie asks, voice slightly rougher than before.

Steve nods quickly. "Yes."

Eddie nods back and leans down as Steve tilts his jaw to expose the right side of his neck.

Eddie's breath is hot against his neck, mouth hovering but not touching yet. "Where do you want it?"

Steve tries not to sound so strained when he says, "Right under my jaw."

Eddie's lips finally brush against the sensitive area almost like a kiss before he opens his mouth wide and presses his lips firmly against the skin, tongue brushing lightly against him before he begins sucking. Steve's eyes squeeze shut when Eddie's teeth brush slightly against him. He slaps a hand over his mouth and fists his hands into Eddie's sheets.

This was not part of the plan. This was definitely not a part of it.

Soon, Eddie pulls away, and cool air makes contact with the wet spot against his neck as Eddie breathes out.

Steve's hand clamps over his mouth tighter before he opens his eyes, thankful that Eddie is staring at the mark and not at his face. But he's confused about why he's frowning.

Then, Eddie's hand comes up to lightly tilts his jaw back to him, but he still stares at the mark with his brows pinched.

"What's wrong?" Steve asks, a little more breathlessly than he wants to sound.

Eddie finally looks him in the eye and says, "It's...it's good. Like, a solid hickey... but it's right under your jaw like you asked so it's not extremely visible." He crawls off Steve and grabs a small mirror off his side table.

Steve grabs it, trying to ignore how flushed he looks before he stares at the hickey. Eddie's right. It's nice and red, standing out against his skin, but only when he tilts his head just right. Hell, someone could brush it off as a hit to the jaw.

Steve sighs. He doesn't know if he'll be able to survive Eddie giving him another hickey.

"I can give you one on the middle and bottom of your neck if you really want to sell it," Eddie offers.

"Sure," Steve says without thinking. Because shit, if he doesn't think he can survive one more hickey, how the hell is he supposed to survive two??

But Eddie takes the mirror back and is on top of him again before Steve can really think.

Luckily, Eddie looks him in the eye and asks, "Are you sure you're okay with this? We could just put makeup on you to make it look like hickeys."

Against his better judgment, Steve shakes his head and replies, "No, it's okay. I want this to look as realistic as possible. But, hey, are you okay with this?"

Eddie nods quickly and enthusiastically in a way that makes Steve feel like maybe he's not the only one enjoying this a little too much. Honestly, it makes him feel much better... but also knowing that Eddie's into it makes him feel h-

His thoughts are cut off when Eddie's hand fists into his hair and gently pulls to expose his neck more. Without thinking, Steve's hands come up to grip onto Eddie's back tightly as he sucks another hickey into his neck.

Steve pinches his lips together as best as he can, but he's sure his heavy, quick breathing gives him away.

Then, Eddie moves on from his neck to the junction between his neck and shoulder, pulling at his shirt to get better access as he trails his lips over his skin, never losing contact as his wet lips leave a trail connecting the two areas.

But when Eddie starts sucking a mark into his neck again, something about the area sets something off in Steve causing him to moan loudly. He slaps a hand over his mouth again, but the damage is already done.

Only, Eddie doesn't pull away. He sucks harder.

Steve's back arches off the bed, and his hands fist into Eddie's hair pulling him off of him.

Eddie's lips are red and wet with his own saliva and his pupils are blown wide in juxtaposition with the panic filling his eyes.

Steve breathes out, "Please tell me I'm not the only one who wants this."

Eddie shakes his head quickly and rasps out, "Fucking hell I thought you were going to murder me."

"Eddie, the last thing I want to do to you right now is murder you."

He leans down, brushing his nose against Steve's, and whispers, "And what do you want to do to me right now?"

"First, I want to kiss you," Steve confesses, heart hammering in his chest.

Eddie leans down, lips brushing against his as he asks, "And then?"

"I'm thinking something that involves a lot more hickeys."

Eddie smiles. "I like the sound of that."

Finally, they both move together, kissing deeply in a way that makes Steve think that maybe Eddie's lips are magic everywhere.

And shit, he's going to have a hell of a time explaining the hickeys to Robin and the kids, but it'll be worth it.

Now including an Ao3 link :)

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 9: werewolf | T | wc: 1,735

🐺🌕🐾🐺🌕🐾

“I need a werewolf to take one look at me and go “I’ll have that” then claim me as their mate and never let me go.” Eddie says out of the blue.

The soda Steve was drinking stings the back of his nose as it attempts to avoid ending up in his gullet, and Robin automatically starts to pat his back sympathetically as he continues to splutter

The older teens are all over, just a normal kickback type thing after the kids had all been ferried out of Steve’s pool and over to the Wheelers’ armpit of a basement for the night. He and Robin are replenishing their snacks in the kitchen and Steve had been attempting to polish off his current can before grabbing another when Eddie’d said that. Stupid enhanced hearing.

And Robin didn’t even hear it; To her, it must’ve just seemed like Steve’s soda went down the wrong pipe or something.

The conversation in the other room continues on while he struggles to breathe. “Okay…do I even want to know?” Nancy asks, her voice tinged with disgust.

“You never read fanfiction, Nance?”

“No, can’t say I have.”

“Well I have, and having a hairy werewolf hottie decide you’re the one he wants? Swoon.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Everything is someone’s thing, man.” Argyle drawls out.

“Why?” Nancy again.

“‘Cause humans are weird.”

“No, no, I mean why werewolf?”

Steve tunes out Eddie’s response when Robin speaks beside him; “You okay, Dingus?”

“Yeah, yeah, just—“ should he even tell her what he’d heard? …Nah. He’d rather preserve his dignity for a little while longer, thanks. “Just went down the wrong pipe is all.”

“Well if you’re done dying, I’m sure the others are wondering where their snacks are.”

She pats him again, twice in quick succession, and grabs up the freshly re-filled bowl of popcorn and two cans of beer beside her on the counter.

Steve does the same, a bowl of chips in one hand and another three cans in his other, following Robin back into the living room.

To his absolute horror, the first thing she asks when she steps across the threshold back into the room is, “What’d we miss?”

“Eddie was telling us about his kinks.” Nancy states, accepting the can Robin holds out to her; Robin plops down onto the carpet beside her and cracks open hers.

“It’s not a kink, it’s—-“ Eddie argues, cutting himself off, “Okay, maybe it is a kink, but it’s just fictional!”

Robin looks at him, confused. “What is?”

“He wants to be claimed by a wolf.” Jonathan explains, grabbing two of the cans from Steve and passing one to Argyle beside him on the couch.

“Not a wolf, a were-wolf!” Eddie protests loudly at the same time Robin starts cackling.

“Didn’t know you had a thing for biting, Munson.”

“Didn’t know you knew what claiming even entails, Buckley.”

“You think I haven’t been on AO3?” She shakes her head at him, “And I thought we were friends..”

None of the others seem to notice Steve’s lack of response or his bright red face, all of them wrapped up in Eddie’s denial.

“We’ve seen crazier shit..” Jonathan concedes, his response a little delayed and his tone thoughtful. “Who says werewolves aren’t real? Or mermaids? Or bigfoot?”

“Bigfoot is real.” Eddie and Argyle say in unison.

“That’s just fantasy! And no he’s not..” Nancy says, rolling her eyes at the boys.

“With all the insane shit that’s been happening apparently for years now, you’re telling me that vampires, werewolves, and all that crap aren’t a thing? What, are those too fictional for you?” Eddie argues.

Before Nancy can respond, and to Steve’s absolute horror, Robin looks right at him with a devious looking glint in her eye. “What do you think, Steve?”

Three more of the remaining four faces turn to him at once; Argyle remains gazing contentedly up at the ceiling where he’s lounged back on the couch, his feet propped up on one arm and his head in Jonathan’s lap.

“About what?”

“About werewolves.” Eddie and Robin respond at once, the two passing a suspicious glance between them before turning their eyes back to Steve.

“Wanting to be claimed or whatever, or whether or not they exist? ‘Cause I don’t quite have an answer for either.”

Eddie, Nancy, and Robin all start talking at once, Steve’s ears picking out each thing; “It’s not just that! Why won’t any of you listen to me?”, “Please don’t tell me you believe this crap too, Steve.", “Both, obviously!”

He sighs, “Stranger things have happened, Nance,” he says, answering her first, then turning his attention to Eddie, “So explain it then.”

Robin chuckles again, lower in volume this time, and he prepares himself for whatever shit he’s gonna get from her about this. Steve asking the subject of his relatively new gay bi panic turned full-blown crush why exactly he’d be into him right to his face has got to be like Christmas coming early to her.

“It’s the whole claiming thing too, alright, don’t get me wrong, but it's also the..” Eddie’s face shifts into embarrassment and his cheeks tinge pink, as if what he’s about to say is the more embarrassing part than the horny biting thing (Steve’s read a few fics in his time too, sue him.), “The Belonging thing. Like, they picked you to be a part of their family, their ‘pack’.” he emphasizes the word with his fingers. “I like the whole chosen family part….” he says, quietly, then his face switches out of embarrassment, going back into confidence in a blink, “But a full-hearted “Yes!” to the whole staking their claim thing. Also definitely that.”

The others groan, the sound morphing into laughter, and Steve thinks he’s off the hook about answering. Until.

“So? Steve?”

Damnit Robin.

“I mean..” Steve’s face burns hot again, the initial flush that had managed to die off coming back full force. “I don’t know about the whole claiming thing, I’m not into biting,”

‘Getting bitten,’ he corrects in his head, ‘Biting, however..’ leaving his mark on someone, the bright red imprints of his teeth standing out against the pale skin of their—-the hypothetically pale skin of their throat (and beside the hypothetical long dark-brown curls too maybe).

He shakes off the thought, “I can definitely understand the family part though, ‘d be nice to be chosen and be chosen forever.”

“See? Exactly! Steve gets what I’m talking about!” Eddie says, gesturing and grinning wildly at him.

Steve’s probably the only one who doesn’t miss the low shuffling sounds of Jonathan and Nancy squirming where they sit.

“The rest of you don’t get it,” Eddie continues on, standing up and turning to walk out of the room. “But believe me, when I find out werewolves are real,” He stops at the back of the armchair Steve’s settled himself in and puts both his hands on Steve’s shoulders, squeezing slightly, “You’ll be the first one I tell, big boy.” He pats the side of Steve’s face with one ringed hand, then turns out the open doorway and down the hall.

“When?” Steve manages to say.

“When!” Eddie calls back, and Steve hears the bathroom door click shut.

“What a goofball,” Nancy says, shaking her head and standing up herself, straightening her shirt and wandering over to Steve’s record player.

Steve can feel Robin vibrating from across the room, so he sighs, stands, and says, “I’m gonna go clean up the deck. Bobs, you wanna.?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.” she says, way too excitedly, and follows him past the dining table to the sunroom and out the back sliding door.

As soon as her foot hits the concrete patio, she starts.

“Holy shit!”

“Shhh! Shut up!”

She waves off his protests, “Oh come off it, you’d be the only one to hear me from inside anyway. Now come on, Dingus! Spill it! You gonna tell him? You gonna bite him? Are ya gonna mate h—”

“OHkay no, nope, not going there.” Steve cuts her off with a hand over her mouth, which she promptly licks.

Non-plussed, he wipes his palm off onto the shoulder of her shirt as he steps past her and bends to pick up a discarded soda can from earlier.

“C’mon, spill! Are you finally gonna go for it?”

“Go for what?” Maybe he can play dumb his way out of talking about it.

“Nuh uh, the play dumb move isn’t gonna work, Dingus. You gotta go for it! Tell him how you feel! You even know he’ll be totally into all of you when you tell him.”

“Another ‘When’? This is a ‘when’ now too??”

Robin nods, “It’s a ‘When’ now too.”.

Steve huffs a long sigh, picks up another can. “I’m not gonna tell him, Robs.”

“Why not?” Steve can hear the arm-cross from here.

“Because, Robin I…” him?, “Because he…because Eddie..” Because Eddie what?

Steve stops whatever it was he was doing; must’ve been something very unimportant because what he’d been doing is completely overrun by his brain’s attempts to come up with some reason why he shouldn’t tell Eddie about the wolfy side of him.

Really, what’s he going to do? Rat him out to some shady government body to do experiments on him? No, Eddie wouldn’t do that. Or, at least, it’s very unlikely that he’d do that.

Run screaming for the hills? No, apparently he’d love to find out there were such things as werewolves. Werewolf, actually, because as far as even Steve knew, he was the only one.

“Because…?”

Steve finally turns back to face Robin with a huff, yep. Arms crossed. “Hold on, I’m thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Shut up.”

Only a handful of seconds pass before Robin repeats herself. “Because…?”

“...Okay, maybe I don’t have a great reason why not, but what am I supposed to say? ‘Hey Eddie, couldn’t help but be a part of the whole werewolf conversation earlier, but hey, just remembered something, I’m totally a werewolf. A werewolf that’d love nothing more than to throw you down and radish you—-’.”

Steve’s hypothetical conversation is cut off by a sudden bark of a laugh. Steve snaps his attention to the sound, and there he is. Eddie, covering his mouth with one hand and flushed beet red in the light just outside the back sliding door.

The door that was left open.

“Uh…..”

🐺🌕🐾🐺🌕🐾

this is based off some tags i added to a previous post but i cannot get tumblr to add the link 😭

edit: from my tags on this post!

[lexirosewrites]

I look forward to slick Sunday every week it's always so fun! Had a fun little idea that's slightly different too!

O!Steve is known to be home alone a lot but what if it wasn't because both his parents were shitty, just his dad. People assume Steve is all alone but every year when December starts Steve gets to pick up his favorite woman in the world, next to his best friend Robin, from the airport and after months away he's holding his mom so so tight.

Mrs. Harrington comes home every year because she never wants her sweet sweet pup to be alone during their favorite holiday. They decorate, her inside and him out because he loves hanging the lights all over the house, they bake cookies and cakes and brownies and while she wraps presents and shops in the city he delivers them all around Hawkins. It's their little tradition but now tradition gets to be shared.

Steve invites B!Robin, A!Nancy, O!Jonathan, B!Argyle, the pups and of course A!Eddie and all their parents (except Argyle because they don't talk much anymore but he's chill with it, he loves Joyce and calls her mom) over for Christmas this year and everyone agrees because they don't ever want Steve to be alone. Eddie is the first to show up, he arrives early in the morning with Wayne because he's eager to see the omega who stole his heart and he's been trying to ask to court officially for a year now, and when they knock a sleepy, bleary Steve answers the door and he just smiles and says "My Eddie." He just woke up so he doesn't even notice he let his inner thoughts out instead of his normal response.

Eddie? Over the freaking moon. He knows Steve was probably trying to tell him good morning but he just smiles and purrs, stepping inside and Steve just falls into his chest because he's sleepy and happy and content because now not only is the Alpha he loves here, his pack will be around later AND his mom is home. It's shaping up to be the best Christmas ever. Wayne is just chuckling as he closes the door behind them and that's when a soft and sweet scent is noticable and voice calls out. "Steve? Pup who's at the door?"

"It's my Alpha Mom!"

Eddie. Is. Ecstatic. Steve thinks of him as his Alpha. Fuck. Yes! He can't resist covering Steve in his scent as the heel clicks get closer and Dahlia Harrington, her breakfast apron on and spatula in hand, comes to the foyer and is smiling so bright. "Hello sweetheart! Oh Stevie you know how to pick them, the handsome Munson Alpha? My lucky pup. Come now everyone, breakfast is almost ready and I'm making French toast. We have lots to do before the rest of the pack gets here!" She takes Wayne's hand and leads him away while Steve and Eddie are still curled around each other by the door.

And later that day when their pack arrives, everyone gets to meet Steve's mom and they all adore her. There's games, music, dancing, presents and so much good food. The Harrington house is full of love and laughter and joy and if that night when Steve is surrounded by all his pups in a big nest next to the Christmas tree, his mom asleep in their nest upstairs with the other parents of the pack, Eddie right against his back and the rest of his friends bracketed around the pups to protect them and their pack Omega he tells Eddie to bite him. He doesn't even care their courtship was never official, he doesn't need tradition when he has Eddie's love.

The best Christmas present of all that day? Having his family together and his Alpha's mark. He's so excited for next Christmas.

what if i cry🥲

[bleedingoptimism]

You Are Mine part 1

When Eddie decided to come out he thought it’d be funny to do so with a music video, so he wrote a song and presented it to the band. The boys loved it and the song was declared the first one of their next album, the third one.

And then it was time to shoot the video.

They hire their personal friend and favorite director, Argyle. Just Argyle, like Cher.

Between him and Argyle they come up with a cool script. The band is going to act in it, they just need two extras, so they hold auditions for a couple in their twenties.

On the day of the auditions, Argyle tells them the interviews are mostly for show, the band can pick whoever they feel the most comfortable with, and the boys tell Eddie he should pick since it’s his song.

The five of them sit at a long table like it’s fucking American Idol or something and just stare at the couples waiting in line through a one-side glass mirror whispering among themselves and watching amused as the couples start getting progressively nervous.

There’s a couple that immediately grabs Eddie's attention when he does a pass-over, a pretty tall dirty blonde and a brunette with big soft-looking hair. 

The guy is absolutely gorgeous, with big kind eyes, a straight cute nose, a square jaw, big shoulders, a small waist, and tan skin that seems to be covered in beauty marks.

He just strikes Eddie as someone that would make Michelangelo cry with his inability to capture his perfection.

‘Oh, that’s good. I should write that.’ He thinks.

He and the girl are talking in hush tones and Eddie watches as she fixes his hair while he jabbers nervously and then, evidently says something that makes her angry because she pokes him in the ribs. The guy giggles cutely and loudly enough to carry over to their room and then blushes furiously when heads turn toward them, hiding behind his friend. The woman in question snorts and chuckles as he chastises her.

Eddie stands up, crouches behind Argyle’s chair, and tells him, “I want that one.”

“What?” he answers, so Eddie points at the couple, “I want him.”

Argyle looks at them considering and clicks his tongue and Eddie insists, “Please Argy, please, I love him, I want him, I want that one, pleaseee”

“Eddie, we need to at least consider the rest of them. This is my job we are talking about here. Please, take it seriously” Argyle says in a calm voice and Eddie deflates,

“Dude...I’m sorry I-”

“Nah man, I’m kidding!” Argyle cuts him off, “Couple number four! Please step forward!” he yells into a mike.

The blonde and the brunette look at each other and walk in nervously as Eddie goes back to his seat at the end of the table and Argyle does a small flourishing move with his hand inviting them to introduce themselves.

“Hi! My name is Robin, and this is Steve, pleased to meet you!” The girl says smiling kindly at them. She nudges Steve on the side and he does a little finger wave at them.

Eddie has to bite his lip not to smile too much because they are really fucking cute. 

Argyle returns the wave enthusiastically, because nothing ever faces him, and looks at the list he has in his hands, “Any experience acting Robin and Steve?”

Robin says yes, something about drama club in high school and Steve just shrugs which amused Eddie to no end, and frankly makes him really curious, for all intent and purposes, Steve doesn’t seem to be interested in the job.

“How did you find out about this job?” Jeff asks them, and Gareth nods like he was just about to ask the same thing.

“A friend of ours told us about it?” Robin answers “He’s a photographer but I don't want to drop names, especially in case we embarrass ourselves,” she says jokingly and looks relieved when she gets a couple of chuckles from Argyle and the band.

“And you were interested because…?” Frank inquires.

Robin starts saying some carefully prepared speech about learning experiences but is interrupted by Steve saying, “We needed the money”

“Oh my god! Shut up!” Robin suddenly turns to him completely red in the face.

“What? You told me to be myself!” Steve tells her frowning. 

“This is exactly why I always talk in interviews”

“What does that mean?” 

“You suck at this Steve! Just as much as you suck at-”

Gareth clears his throat loudly making them stop and look at him sheepishly, “So tell us, do you know the band? Are you fans?”

Eddie takes a moment to look at his bandmates and to his relief they all look as amused as he feels, especially Argyle. The couple of newbies is clearly a mess but in an endearing kind of way.

“Well…” Robin starts but doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Never heard of it,” Steve says looking apologetic. 

“Wait, Really?” Robin asks him, once more ignoring the director and the band, “They are like, Mike’s favorite band, man! You never heard of Corroded Coffin?”

“Oh well,” Steve shrugs, “I mostly tune out when Mike is talking so…”

Robin snorts and is about to reply but Argyle raises his hand and they both look at him, flinching a little when they realize they had started talking among themselves again.

“Ok.” Argyle tells them clapping once, “Unfortunately for me, I love your energy my dudes, but I’m going to get serious for a second here: I need you two to be professional ok? We have a budget and a schedule and only three days to shoot and I can’t hire you and find out in the middle of the shoot that you are not okay with making out with someone-”

Robin visibly takes a step back and Steve snorts, “Yeah no, I’m not making out with my sister.”

Eddie, who was wondering what kind of relationship they had, does a little happy dance in his head at that.

“No, I meant one of the members of the band” Argyle answers amused.

Robin takes another step back and actually looks a little disgusted and Eddie tries not to find it offensive, “Me?” she asks unsure.

“No,” Frank answers and points at Steve, “Him.”

Surprisingly, they both relax at that, “Oh!” They exclaim in unison and it’s kind of creepy but again, in an endearing kind of way.

And then Steve looks at them one by one, he’s unmistakably and unashamedly checking them all out and Eddie swears his eyes linger on him the most before he smirks and says, “I’m okay with that”

Eddie immediately pushes the contract laying on the table toward Frank, who pushes it to Gareth, who pushes it to Jeff, who pushes it to Argyle and gives him a pen.

Argyle laughs loudly and shakes the sheet of paper, “Well shit, I guess you are hired.”

“We are?!”

He stands up and shakes their hands, hands them the contract and another paper, “This is the script, not that it has any dialogue but just in case you have any questions.” 

They push their heads together and read the script at the same time.

The story is about the band being on tour. Robin and Steve would play as their roadies and the video is supposed to show them in concert, traveling, working, and hanging out. The whole video hints that Eddie is sneaking out with one of them and it ends with the band plus Robin opening a curtain on the tour bus to find Eddie and Steve making out.

The song is called You Are Mine.

When they are done reading, Steve smiles and says “Cute”

And Robin asks, “So which one of you is Eddie?”

Eddie lifts his hand lazily and winks at them.

And Steve, still holding the script, lifts it enough to cover his face but Eddie can still see the tip of his ears as they turn bright red.

‘Oh, he’s gonna eat him alive.’

to be continued

part 1: is this

part 2: ♫ 

part 3: ♫

part 4: ♫

☕ cafecito?

[dynamic-power]

This wasn't going to be more than a little one-off. But due to popular demand, here's a part two. 😄

Back to the Past part 2

CW: Brief panic attack

Part 1

"I... uh. What?"

Eddie, because Steve is certain now that this is, in fact, Eddie Munson, frowns a little. "Memories," he says, firmly but not unkindly. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uh." Steve's brain is racing, but not with anything particularly helpful.

He and Robin are going to the high school again to help with relief efforts. There's a strange guy named Argyle staying in Steve's guest room. He's taking Dustin to meet Wayne Munson soon. They have been given permission to recover whatever they can from the Munson trailer. Dustin wants to help because Eddie is-

Eddie is-

Eddie is sitting right in front of him, watching him with those big, dark eyes. He's being so patient, waiting for Steve to finish whatever processing he needs to do, but honestly, the only thing that truly catches Steve off-guard is the fact that Eddie is-

"You're alive."

Eddie's frown deepens for a moment before he seems to understand what Steve is saying. Once he does, though, he grins, wide and happy and contagious, just like Steve remembers.

"Yeah, Stevie, I'm alive."

"You're old."

Eddie collapses back against his pillow and bursts into laughter. Deep, belly-shaking laughter that has Steve biting back a smile.

When he catches his breath again, Eddie looks up at him with shining eyes. "Of course the two things you focus on are our wedding photos and my age."

"You aren't freaking out."

"Neither are you," Eddie counters, and he's right.

Strangely enough, Steve isn't panicking. Actually, in the last few moments with Eddie and the comfort of warm blankets and his warmer laughter, Steve's breathing had evened out again.

"What's going on? You don't seem surprised."

Eddie sighs and lifts his arms, crossing them behind his head. He shifts, putting a little more distance between their bodies. Steve wonders if he's done that on purpose.

Then Eddie's feet wiggle under the covers, trying not to kick the sleeping cat as he shuffles the heavy comforter down his body. Steve's eyes immediately drift down as his torso, and the scars, come into view.

They're horrific; slashes and starbursts and a whole chunk missing from his side just below his ribcage -

And suddenly Steve is there, in the Upside Down. His hands are covered in blood, Eddie's blood, and he can't breathe without tasting the stench of death and decay on the back of his tongue and his heart rate spikes as he darkness starts to tunnel his vision.

But Eddie, alive and smiling and laughing Eddie, is there, gripping his arm firmly and talking to him.

"Stevie, focus on me. Come on, love, I know you can do it. Focus on my voice and breathe with me." A large hand falls onto his chest, warm against his naked skin, and he does what Eddie tells him.

He focuses on Eddie's voice and his toucb and breathes with him until the darkness fades and he finds himself in an unfamiliar bedroom again.

"Good job, Steve. Now, can you count with me?"

Counting. Steve can do that. He knows he can, and he does until his breathing calms again. He's sweaty, and the cool air of the bedroom stings his skin. One of them has tossed away the covers, and the cat has disappeared, and he's sitting half naked in bed with Eddie Munson. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the lingering panic and adrenaline only let him cry, and so he does, leaning against the familiar stranger beside him.

-----

Part 3

Tag list-

@clumsiluni @l0st-strawberry @aol19 @newtstabber

Lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list 💜

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

I was thinking about inexperienced Eddie again, and then was thinking about sweet drunk Steve, and then this happened. Enjoy my dears!

~°~

So they're at a party. All the teens at Steve's house probably, it's the biggest house, with the most rooms, enough for everyone to stay over if they drink too much and can't drive home. They all pretty much have their own rooms there now anyway.

But Eddie still isn't used to being in large groups, not when the groups aren't hellfire anyway, so he's kinda quiet, sticks by steve or robin most of the time, or stays in the kitchen, eating all of Steve's food.

But now he's sat on the living room floor, next to steve, legs crossed, red solo cup in hand. There's music playing low, and steve is swaying slightly next to him, his cup his almost empy. His second cup. Or third. Eddie thinks he may have missed him refill it once. Steve's shoulder keeps brushing his and Eddie's hands are starting to sweat, his skin feels hotter and hotter everytime someone speaks.

He doesn't remember who suggested Never Have I Ever but he should have run. He should have made an excuse to leave. Or not made an excuse. He should have just fucking run for the door.

But how the fuck was he supposed to know they were gonna make every question about sex. Well, almost all of them, Nancy had seemingly taken pitty and said one about saving the world so they ALL had to drink.

But other than that, Eddie's cup had been resting on the floor near his feet, his hand resting on top it, fingers splayed, gripping it too tight probably, but he was... very uncomfortable. His fingers drum against the rim to the soft beat of the music, nervous.

He almost takes a drink when Argyle says something about kissing, even lifts his glass, but then he adds something about using your tongue in a way Eddie's never even fucking heard of and Eddie just closes his eyes, takes a deep breathe, and lowers his glass again.

"You're not drinking."

Eddie vaguely hears Steve speak, feels him lean into his shoulder.

"Hmm?" He hums back, his eyes blinking hazily as he drags them from the floor, he lets them settle on Steve's nearly empty cup instead.

"Yer not drinking." He slurs into Eddie's ear, his voice quiet. His breath on Eddie's cheek makes him shiver.

"Nope." Eddie whispers back, shaking his head once.

"Not thristy?" Steve asks, and he sounds, so genuine. Eddie looks at him, leaning to the side a bit so Steve's face isn't so close. Steve blinks at him, his eyelids heavy, he looks, very drunk. But also beautiful. Eddie shrugs, looks away again.

"Just playing the game." He mutters, glances back to Steve and sees him frown. He watches him, his brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes moving a bit, like he's trying to solve a problem in his head. Eddie bites his lip, looks back to the floor.

"You-" Steve starts, stops, his hand moves to Eddie's knee as he moves closer. Eddie's breath catches in his throat, he looks at Steve again, his face so so close.

"You didn't drink. Cuz... no sex?" Steve's brow is furrowed again. Jesus, how fucking much had he had to drink? Eddie had to have missed more than a cup or two. He snorts, can't help it. Steve looks so confused, but like he's trying to be... something.

"Yeah Steve. I no sex." Eddie nods, pats Steve's knee and gently moves Steve's hand back into his own lap.

"Not even kisses?" Steve whispers, and he looks sad now, his lips pouting as he looks at Eddie, his eyes dropping to linger on Eddie's lips for a moment before he blinks and looks back up.

Eddie shakes his head, all the air in his lungs suddenly gone. Steve watches him for a beat longer and then nods, apparently deciding something. Eddie gulps, but Steve just reaches for his cup, picks it up and silently poors half of Eddie's beer into his own.

"Steve, don't. You've had-"

"Is fine." Steve whispers back, shaking his head.

"M' running out anyway." He passes his cup to his other hand and points at himself with a little wave of his hand.

"I do... too much sex. I think." He frowns again, looks around the cirlce, hears whatever it is Jonathan says and snorts, takes another drink and then looks back to Eddie.

"See. Drinking again." Steve says, smiling widely. Eddie frowns, but looks away. His hand clenching on his cup, he almost crushes the plastic before he thinks to let go. He leans to his other side, toward Robin, her cup isn't nearly as empty as anyone else's either.

"Hey Rob's?" Eddie asks, involuntarily flinching at the laughter that rings through the room.

"What's up?" She asks, leaning into him, her eyes bright.

"I think Steve's had... too much? To drink maybe." He says it quietly. Like he's unsure. He doesn't wanna ruin the party, or the game, or the moment, or whatever. But he's... concerned. Robin's brow crinkles and then she leans forward to look past Eddie. Eddie looks too, both of them watching as Steve sways forward, almost falls onto his face and then sways back, laughing to himself.

"Oh. Yeah no. Cut him off. I'll take him to his room. Get him some water." She starts to move, like she's getting up.

"I can get it." Eddie says, his hand on her shoulder. She gives him a look, one of those looks Eddie can never decipher. He knows Robin sees more of him than he's shared with anyone. Except Wayne. But it's never judgemental, and he knows why, but its never expectant either. It's just this look she gives him.

"You sure?" She ask, her hand still on the floor like she's gonna shove herself to her feet.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm not uh... not exactly enjoying this game very much anyway. You stay. I got it." He watches her drop her eyes to Eddie's cup, and he's suddenly sure she'd seen Steve take half of it for him, because she smiles, softly, and nods.

"Okay. Thanks. Don't forget the water. And put a couples aspirin on his nightstand too for the morning. Or he'll-"

"Get a migraine.  On it." Eddie finishes, she smiles again, big this time. He pats her shoulder.

"Have fun." He says, cringing when the room fills with laughter again. He slides his cup to her and then looks back to Steve.

"Hey." He says softly, his hand hovering above Steve's knee, he decides to touch his arm instead, Steve's head sways toward him and he smiles when he sees Eddie looking at him.

"Hey." He breathes back, his breath smelling like beer.

"You wanna come with me big guy? So you can get some rest?" Eddie asks, his fingers curling around Steve's wrist. He sighs, drops his head to Eddie's shoulder.

"Rest sounds nice." He hums, nuzzling closer. Eddie laughs, can't help it, he's nervous and drunk Steve is... new. He's never been around drunk Steve before.

"Okay well not here. I'm gonna help you get to your room okay?" Eddie says, pushing up onto his knees so he can help Steve stand. He nods, lets Eddie pull him up and hold him steady.

"Are you leaving brochachos?" Argyle calls from across the circle, the others all groan, sad.

"I have to rest now!" Steve shouts at them, pointing accusingly at them, but he's smiling.

"Aww he's sleepy!" Jonathan calls back, his voice almost as slurred as Steve's, Eddie watches him fall into Argyle's side, giggling.

"Ya know what!?" Steve yells, stops, his face falling as he forgets what he was saying. His eyes find Eddie and he his lips curl a bit, his hands grab Eddie's shoulders, steadying himself.

"M' tired Eddie." He mumbles, frowning again. Eddie nods, his hands moving to hold Steve's arms.

"I know. Let's go bud." And he leads Steve away, both of them waving to the chorus of good byes and goodnights behind them.

~°~

Getting Steve to bed is easier than Eddie guessed it would be, he'd been slumping into Eddie more with each step down the hall. Eddie was pretty sure he was almost alseep on his feet already.

There was one moment of panic, when Steve was changing into his pajamas and the zipper on his jeans got stuck, and he'd grabbed Eddie's hand, guided it to his zipper and requested he fix it. Eddie had nearly yelped and stumbled back, away from Steve. But he was standing with his eyes closed, swaying on the spot, waiting for help so he could sleep. So Eddie had done his best with shaking hands to get the zipper down. Steve had slurred a thank you and shoved his jeans down so fast he almost slammed his head into Eddie's. He had jumped back then, out of Steve's headbutting range.

He'd turned his back while Steve changed and then heard the rustling of sheets and turned to find Steve getting settled beneath his sheets.

"I gotta go get you some water. And some medicine for your head so Robin doesn't kill me. But I'll be back okay?" Eddie tells Steve, he watches Steve snort, his eyelids drooping again.

"Robin." Is all he says after the laugh, and it makes Eddie smile. He jogs back down to the kitchen, grabs a glass of water and some meds, and then heads back up, passing the living room he hears hushed voices, the game apparently over now. He peeks in, sees them all cuddled together sleepily on the floor, Robin is the only one who notices him, she waves with her free hand. Eddie smiles, her other hand is tangled up with Nancy's, and runs back up the stairs.

Steve is still awake, but barely. He's leaning against the head rest, his head tilted back, mouth dropped open, but one eye pops open when hears Eddie's chains jingle back into the room.

"You came back." Steve says with a smile, his hand lifting from his sheets to reach for Eddie. He sits on the edge of the bed and hands Steve the glass of water.

"I want you drink at least half of this before you sleep okay?" Eddie says, trying to use his stern voice, knows it doesn't work. But it doesn't matter. Steve takes the glass and nods with wide eyes before chugging the whole thing. He wipes his mouth with his hand, hiccups as he hands it back to Eddie.

"Thirsty." Is all he says, he's blinking slowly again. Eddie chuckles.

"Okay awesome. Yeah. Good job. I'll refill it." He moves to get up, but Steve grabs his wrist, then slides down, laying his head on his pillows.

"Not right now. Just stay here. Promise?" Steve's eyes are closed, but his grip on Eddie is firm.

"Okay. I promise." Eddie breathes, his heart pounding in his throat. He waits for Steve fall asleep, it doesn't take long. And he goes to refill the glass, comes back and sits on the floor, his back to Steve's bed.

He knows he should lay down, should sleep. Will regret it in the morning. And he's about to, lay down, when Steve speaks behind him.

"No one's really ever even kissed you?" His voice says, and then Eddie feels Steve's fingers brush his hair, genlty. He shakes his head, not sure if Steve can see him in the dark, he clears his throat.

"Uh... not really. I don't think kisses under the jungle gym in 4th grade count in that game." Eddie says, shrugs.

"Hmmm... maybe not." His voice is still heavy, still open. There's a beat. And then.

"Is it cuz you like boys?"

And Eddie's heart stops, his stomach drops, and he feels like he might cry. He doesn't turn around. Doesn't say anything. Doesn't defend himself. And then Steve says.

"Boys are pretty. But it's scary kissing boys. Or.. or wanting to. But I bet it's nice." He sighs, and Eddie thinks he might be alseep again. His hands clawing at his own thighs, fingers digging in as they shake. His breathing is shakey too. He feels like he might shake out of his own skin and just float away.

"I guess it's just... no one's ever wanted me." Eddie whispers into the dark. He sure Steve's won't hear him. Sure he won't remember any of this anyway. And he hadn't been... mean, or... judgmental, just... asking. And honest.

And then Steve is touching him. He moves the hair away from Eddie's neck easily, like he's done it a thousand times, and then Eddie's breath catches again when he feels Steve's lips press to the back of his neck, just once, but it's a firm press, full of intent. And then he's gone. Falling back onto his pillows.

"There. Kissed you." He says, and Eddie can hear him smiling. And then, seconds later, he hears him snoring. Soft little things, peaceful.

The warmth of his skin lingers on Eddie neck. He moves his hand slowly, brushes his fingers over the spot gently, shivering in the dark.

~°~

Eddie leaves before Steve wakes up in the morning. He wants to wait. But he has a half shift at the shop today and he has to shower first. He leaves a note, tells Steve to take the aspirin. And tells him to have a good day.

He draws a little demon smiley face at the bottom. Almost signs it "yours, Eddie." But just writes his name and runs.

Work goes well. He's nearly finshed rebuilding the engine he's been working on for months. He's covered in grease and dirt, but he feels good. Feels usefull. His neck has been tingling all day.

He's just getting out of the shower again when he hears the knock at the door.

"Shit. Gimme a minute!" He calls, patting at himself hurriedly with his towel, he grabs a pair of boxers and sweatpants, yanks them on over his damp legs. Nearly falling as he does, grabs a clean shirt from his laundry basket on the floor and shoves himself into it. His hair is still up in a messy bun but he jogs to the door.

"Coming!" He yanks the door open to find Steve. Standing in the light rain that had apparently started.

"Shit. You're getting wet, come in." Eddie steps back, waves him in.

Steve hovers by the door, he's staring at Eddie, his hands shoved in his pockets, his hair looking more wild than normal. There are dark circles under his eyes. He looks tired, but his eyes are bright. Eddie takes a step back, looks to the floor, feeling nervous under his scrutiny.

"You uh... you okay? You're head feeling alright?" Eddie asks, to cut the silence. Cannot stand the silence.

"Yeah. Heads good. You're hair-" Steve stops talking when Eddie's eyes land on him again. Eddie's hand reaches up, then falls back to his side, his cheeks feeling hot.

"Oh. Yeah. I washed it this morning, before work. Didn't wanna wash it again." He shrugs, huffs a little laugh. Not sure what else to say.

"It looks nice. Like that." Steve says, then clears his throat. And that's when it hits Eddie, the look that Steve has going, he looks nervous.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks, stopping himself from taking a step forward. Steve's eyes widen in question, and then he's nodding, his teeth digging into his lip briefly.

"Yeah I'm good. I just... I wanted to talk to you." Steve says, sighs loudly.

"About last night." His face scrunches, like he doesn't wanna be saying it. Oh. Of course. Of course that's what it is. Eddie swallows, squares his shoulders, guard up. He nods, waves his hand at Steve.

"Don't worry about it man. You were drunk." He turns, walks into the kitchen, clears his throat, hard, to dislodge the firey lump that's growing there. His hand moves without his permission, fingers touching the back of his neck.

"Wait what?" Steve's confused voice says, before he follows Eddie into the small kitchen space.

"What?" Eddie echoes.

"I- I didn't come here to apologize for anything." Steve says, bluntly, his hands out of his pockets now, they're worrying over his thighs, smoothing back and forth over his jeans.

"You... didn't?" Eddie's brow furrows, he wraps his arms around his middle, watches Steve gulp as he shakes his head.

"Then why are you here?" Eddie leans against the counter, now as far away from Steve as he can get, but Steve isn't having that, he keeps moving closer, slowly.

"I came to tell you something." Steve says, slowly, his lips pressing together before he licks them.

"Tell me what?" Eddie's voice is small, his breathing is faster than he'd like it to be, heart thundering agaisnt his ribs.

"I do." Is all Steve says. Unhelpful.

"You... do. You do what?" Eddie asks, his voice higher than it should be, Steve is still moving, closer and closer, step by step.

"Last night. You said, no one's ever wanted you." Steve speaks slowly, his eyes glued to Eddie's face.

"Okaaaay..." Eddie so lost, his brain isn't working right, he's missing something, he knows he is. He can feel it, see it in the way Steve is looking at him expectantly.

"Well. You were wrong. Cuz I do. I want you." Steve clarifies, finally, blinking at Eddie as he takes a step, placing him one step away from Eddie.

"You want- no you don't. You were drunk. Very drunk. And you just- you're very clingy when you're drunk. It's not-" Eddie's mouth runs wild, tossing out excuses because this can't be real. Steve can't be saying what he's saying. But Steve is also smiling.

"I was drunk. Yes. But I remember you saying that. I remember how sad you looked during that fucking game. I remember saying some things to you I probably shouldn't have, not without you telling me first. I am sorry about that, actually." He tilts his head forward, Eddie swallows, nods, bites his lip, his throat is burning again.

"But I also remember kissing you. I remember how hot your neck was against my lips. And I remember all the things I've been thinking about you, for months, while completely sober." He smiles, reaches out, his fingers ghosting over Eddie's wrist where its settled against his stomach.

"I've been thinking about kissing you for ages. I just- drunk me has less... self preservation." Steve smiles, it's crooked, like he's tucking his cheek in so he doesn't laugh. Eddie thinks it maybe matches his crooked smile now.

"Drunk you thinks you're a slut." Eddie huffs a laugh, Steve barks one, nods, takes that last step.

"Yeah. I kinda used to be." He shrugs, both hands reaching out to Eddie now, resting on his elbows.

"Well I'm not." Eddie says, a little more harsh than he meant to, but it doesn't deter Steve, just makes him smile again.

"I know. Kissing under a jungle gym definitely doesn't give you slut status." Steve teases. Eddie blushes, looks away, his eyes drop to the floor.

"I don't understand." Eddie sighs, brow furrowed.

"Don't understand what? Why I want you if you've never done anything?" Steve asks, blunt now too. And Eddie kind of loves it, the way he can just say it. Eddie nods.

"Why would you want someone like me? No one else does. And now I've got this. These." He points to the jagged scar on his cheek, motions over the rest of himself, to his other hidden scars. Steve moves then, fast, tugs Eddie's arms away from himself and grabs his hips, presses into Eddie's space.

"It doesn't have anything to do with that. I don't care that you have no experience. That's not... that not why I date people. Besides, it might nice. Ya know, I've never been with a guy before, we could figure it out together." There's a question in Steve's eyes, like he's asking. Eddie bites his lip, tugs it between his teeth and then lets his hands move. Rests them on Steve's shoulders, he nods,

"That could be nice." He echoes. Steve nods, presses a little closer, his thighs bumping Eddie's.

"I think so. And the scars, we kinda match. Like little fucked up puzzle peices." Steve whispers. Eddie laughs then, big, and bright. Steve pulls him closer, wraps his arms around him and hugs him, tucks his face into Eddie's neck. Eddie grabs at his shoulders, holds him tightly, his body shaking at all the contact.

"You're trembling." Steve breathes into his neck. Eddie nods quickly, feeling frantic now. Steve moves to look at him.

"That's only gonna get worse. The more you touch me." Eddie admits, feels his whole body flush, Steve bites his lip, his fingers move over the heat along Eddie's neck as his eyes darken.

"What are you thinking about?" Eddie asks, his hands tugging on Steve's sweater, he knows his hands are sweating, is pretty sure Steve doesn't care.

"I'm thinking..." he trailes off, hooks one finger into the collar of Eddie shirt and tugs it down a bit.

"I wanna see how far this goes." He brushes his thumb over Eddie's neck again, it drags a whimper out his throat, Steve's dark eyes meet his, a smile curls his lips. But it's not a sweet Steve smile, there's a hunger there now that wasn't there before. Eddie gulps.

"I'm in trouble aren't I?" He asks, body shaking as Steve tugs their hips together again, leans closer and closer, his breath ghosting over Eddie's lips as he says,

"Oh you have no idea."

Eddie chuckles, laughs into his first real kiss, before Steve deepens it, genlty, dragging a moan out of him.

Later. When they're tangled together on Eddie's bed, clothes rumpled and shoved at odd angles, Eddie's hair no longer pulled back, Steve holding him close as his breathing finally evens out, Steve tells him it was perfect. The perfect Eddie first kiss.

He tangles his hands in Eddie's hair, pulls him closer, and tells him he can't wait to see what other kinds of kisses Eddie might be hiding. Tells Eddie that any and every kiss he laughs into will be perfect. Because they're his. And now Eddie is too.

[sreidisms]

Sweater Weather

Spencer Reid x Mid/Plussize!Fem!Reader

Summary: you wish you could be able to wear Spencer's clothes, but you wear completely different sizes. However, one day he comes home with a surprise.

Genre: ever so slight angst if you even notice it, fluff

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: insecurity, self-comparison, kissing. Only she/her pronouns are used, so trans girls and anyone who uses these pronouns, this is for you.

A/N: I read @tenpintsof-sundrop 's post about how SO many Spencer writers love the "girlfriend wearing their boyfriend's clothes" trope, and honestly as they should, but as a mid-size girl, it's not that realistic. So I took it upon myself to write a short blurb where Spencer wears one of your sweaters. Enjoy 😙

Autumn was undoubtedly your favourite season: the crisp air biting at your skin, the crunch of browned leaves on the pavement, the feeling of a freshly-made mug of tea warming your hands, and of course, wearing sweaters. Sweater weather, is what you called it.

What made it better was the fact you enjoyed experiencing all of this with your lovely boyfriend, Spencer. You could only describe it as luck that you both shared a deep love for autumn, and Halloween naturally. You and Spencer enjoyed taking walks in the afternoon dusk of October, watching obscure foreign films that only he could translate while you were wrapped up in a blanket, and baking cinnamon goods when sleep was long forgotten on the nights he was off work.

Nothing could disrupt your joy during this time - well, except maybe one thing. Both avid sweater collectors, they were all you wore during the colder months. And as usual boyfriend-girlfriend relationships go, you often thought about borrowing a sweater or two from his wardrobe. He had a red striped one which you adored, a memory of his younger self when you had met each other at a flea market and both grabbed the same vintage book. His brown argyle one was definitely your favourite though. And you would ask him to wear it if it wasn’t for one thing.

You wore a larger size than Spencer. It was always blaringly obvious to you how different your bodily proportions were. Although the taller one, your boyfriend wore trousers that you could hardly fit a thigh through and his shirts would only reach past your neck, or at least you assumed - you had never attempted to try.

It shouldn’t have bothered you as much as it did. There were plenty of girls who were taller or chubbier than their romantic counterpart, but it still stung. There was nothing you wanted more during colder evenings than to steal one of his sweaters and bury yourself beneath the warm wool, enveloping yourself in his smell. So you opted for cuddling up as close to him as possible, letting him wrap his arms around you - it was as good as it could get.

However, one day during November, when you were alone at your shared apartment, a very wonderful thing occurred.

The kitchen had just been cleaned after another one of your baking fiascos. Amongst many things, you knocked the bag of flour while putting the tray of odd-looking cookies in the oven, and thus made a mess of the entire floor and counter. It took a while to clean up and it was not rewarding to open the oven door to deformed, sad-looking cookies. Whatever, you thought. It clearly wasn’t your day.

You found a place in your favourite armchair, your current read in your hands. It was the ideal way to pass the time since Spencer had texted you about his mountainous pile of reports he had to finish getting through. He could surely read faster than everyone else, but it didn’t mean they would be finished in a short period of time.

As you delved deeper and deeper into the story, you were startled when you heard the front door click open. You glanced at the clock up on the wall. Almost midnight, poor boy.

“Angel?”

“I’m in the living room!” you called out.

The shuffle of shoes and a gentle thump echoed through the corridor as Spencer took off his converse and dropped his messenger bag. The sound of soft footsteps neared you until the tall man rounded the corner and appeared in all his nerdy glory.

“Hey, finally home,” he sighed.

But you didn’t listen to what he was saying because you were too focused on something else: resting on his lanky frame was your sweater. One of your warmer ones. It was obviously a little too big on him, the material slipping off his right shoulder to reveal his white button-up underneath. The dark green sleeves were always a tad too long for your arms, and you’d assume they wouldn’t even reach Spencer’s wrists, but there they were covering his knuckles, only his fingertips poking out.

“Is everything alright? You seem distracted.” Spencer’s voice pierced your bubble of awe.

“Is that my sweater?”

He looked down and pulled on the hem of the sweater, a faint blush tainting his cheeks. “Uh yeah, it seems to be so. Does it bother you?”

Bother you was the last thing the image of your boyfriend in your clothing would do.

You cleared your throat as you tried to gather your thoughts into an intelligible sentence.

“N-Not at all! You just never asked me to wear anything of mine before … did you not have any sweaters left?”

“Oh no, I did! I um- well yesterday you wore it and left it on my desk chair, and it looked so warm and it … smelt of you.” His voice went up an octave at this last part. “And I thought I could wear it. Is that okay? Did I do something wrong?”

Wrong wasn’t the word you would use. Cute, adorable, heart-warming were adjectives that fit to describe the situation.

“Far from that, Spence. You look … you look adorable,” you said warmly.

He smiled in embarrassment and lifted his hand to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He truly was the spitting image of domesticity in this moment.

“C’mere.” You urged him to walk towards you, tucking your legs underneath your body. He shuffled closer while he picked at the stray ends of wool fraying at the sleeves.

Once he was close enough, you held his face in your hands and left a tender kiss on his plump, pink lips. He whined quietly at the sudden action, but let you do as you pleased - he couldn’t really say no, he was putty in your grasp.

After stopping the sweet kiss, your eyes traced over his outfit again - God, he was such a darling.

“Please wear my clothes more often, you look cute in them,” you said while looking into his hazel eyes.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he grinned.

Need him to wear my sweaters, I swear 🤧

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Shut up and dance with me

steddie, omegaverse, a little bit of fun during my angst-fest to celebrate some follower milestones 🥰

Steve keeps saying he feels goofy wearing a suit, even if he’s happy to do it for Robin. It’s non-traditional, sticking an omega in black-tie. But neither is an alpha like Buckley having an omega as her best man. Her mating ceremony is beautiful, Chrissy absolutely sparkles, and Steve cries through half of it because he’s so happy for his best friend.

Eddie might cry a little, too.

He’s seated in the front row, with Robin’s family, since he and Steve are ‘capital S’ Serious, and Steve has practically been adopted by Robin’s parents. Melissa catches him crying and smiles; she’s certain to ask when he and Steve are going to tie the knot themselves.

He’s nowhere near ready to answer that one. Especially without Steve to help. Eddie hasn’t wanted to rush things, even being friends so long beforehand. Knows that he loves Steve more than anything. But they’ve barely been dating a year…

After the ceremony, Steve catches his eye from the reception line. “You good?” Eddie mouths, quirking a questioning brow.

Steve makes a dumb face—pretends to cry—gives him a thumbs up, and it’s like everything rearranges, his whole world shifting a couple inches to the left.

He knows.

All his worries about it being too fast float away like so much dust on the wind. He’d be happy enough watching Steve from across the room for the rest of his life, to giggle and mime at one another.

But after the reception, he gets to take Steve home.

Not being in the wedding party, he should honestly head over to the venue soon—after going through the receiving line. He kisses Chrissy’s cheek, tells her she looks stunning, high fives Robin for locking down her perfect omega, and whispers, “I’ll be waiting for you with a cocktail,” in Steve’s ear.

He manages to cop a feel, squeezing Steve’s ass before pulling back, earning him a tiny whine as they part.

Forcing himself to keep walking, Eddie hates leaving his m—

Hates leaving Steve. He wants to run back and scoop him into his arms. To keep him close.

Instead, he gets in Steve’s car and drives to the reception, grabs a scotch from the open bar, and distracts himself from missing Steve by chatting with Jonathan who is just as in need of the company since Argyle and Nancy are also in the wedding party.

Eddie’s on his second scotch when he hears whispers that the limo has arrived, and he goes to order a Manhattan for Steve with extra cherries. He’s barely got the coupe glass in hand before the DJ is announcing the new Mr. and Mrs. Buckley.

They’ve changed into their reception outfits: Chrissy’s dress short and frothy, Robin in metallic pants and a shirt unbuttoned halfway down her sternum, both of them already dancing as they make their grand entrance.

The whole room hoots and hollers as they burst into cheers.

The rest of the party has changed too. Nancy’s in a slinky dress, the depth of the black of it the only thing hiding the outline of her dick. Argyle is in shorts that make him seem ridiculously tall, and Heather is in a romper covered in rhinestones.

Then there’s Steve.

He’s dressed to match Robin in silver-sequined pants, trading the button-down for a loose tank top that shows off too much of his golden skin, freckles and moles like so many stars in the sky.

Eddie’s mouth waters as he makes his way over to him, drink in hand.

“Damn, sweetheart!” he says, eyes locked on Steve’s tits, needing to hold him by the sides and slip his thumbs in to tease his nipples.

Steve grips hush chin, tilts his gaze up until their eyes meet. “Thanks, babe.” He smiles into their kiss, uses his teeth a little.

Eddie offers him the drink, and Steve happily accepts, plucking out a cherry and popping it into his mouth. Another kiss, this one cherry-sweet, and Steve downs his drink, holding his extra cherry between his teeth for a long moment, grinning as he bites it in half.

“Why is it so hot when you do that?” Eddie rasps, his dress pants suddenly a little too tight.

Steve smiles, pulls half the cherry from between his lips, and presses it to Eddie’s mouth. “Shut up and dance with me, Munson,” he says, laughing, barely containing his delight.

He drags Eddie onto the dance floor, the alpha going willingly, hands easily finding their way onto Steve’s hips. Falling to the beat, into moving with one another is easy. So easy, Eddie nearly forgets his revelation from earlier.

And he’s distracted again by Steve’s chest.

“You okay there, Munson?” he teases, using a single finger to direct Eddie’s gaze back up to face him. “Keep your eyes on me.”

A purr rumbles through Eddie’s chest as he leans in close. “Why d’ya still call me Munson all the time, Stevie?” he murmurs, then kisses Steve’s ear.

“Like the way it sounds. I like everything about you, Eddie.” The words are soft and vulnerable, barely audible over the pulse of the music.

It makes Eddie brave enough to be vulnerable, too.

“How do you like the sound of Mrs. Munson? Or Ms.” He smiles. “Whichev-”

Steve cuts him off with a kiss.

“I like the sound of that a lot.”

[transvampireboyfriend]

@steddie-week Day 1: Secret relationship

Rating: M Words: 2362

Modern AU

"I'm gonna get us some more popcorn" Steve says, slapping his hands against his thighs.

Eddie gives him side eye because it's only been ten minutes since the movie started and they're supposed to be discrete.

Steve silently shrugs at him, raising his eyebrows and pointedly looking at everyone in the room.

He's right, no one even reacted to Steve's statement. Jon and Argyle are absentmindedly playing with each other's hands, eyes locked on the screen; Chrissy and Robin are still whispering to each other; Jeff is still showing something to Freak and Nancy on his phone and Gareth is still dozing on and off next to Chrissy.

Okay then, Eddie thinks, and tries to communicate the same to Steve with a shrug of his own.

Steve smiles a small thing, and winks at him.

A blink and you'll miss it wink, but Eddie still has to bite the inside of his cheek to tame his answering smile and try to subdue the heat rising to his cheeks.

7:05 his watch reads when Steve leaves the room.

Five minutes should be fine right? For Eddie to follow without making their friends suspicious?

Eddie looks at the TV and tries to focus on the movie, but all he can see are colors.

He doesn't know what they're watching, was too distracted by the hair on Steve's arm when they discussed it.

The hair on Steve's arm, which Eddie only discovered yesterday, is so soft and fun to kiss.

And lick.

And mouth at.

Jesus, it's been a whole month since their first date, a little more than that since they first kissed and Eddie still acts like a lovesick fool.

7:06

Eddie starts bouncing his leg impatiently.

On second thought, popcorn takes like two minutes to be ready. And say it takes Steve an additional minute to put it into a bowl, then he'll be back in less than five!

Eddie's wasting precious time!

He stands abruptly and everyone does turn to look at him at that.

"Sorry," he smiles sheepishly, "need to use the bathroom. Be right back."

His friends turn back to the TV with hums and noncommittal grunts and Eddie at least has the sense to walk towards the hallway and not go through the kitchen's front door.

It's a redundant but necessary detour and in a few more seconds, he's opening the kitchen's side door.

Steve greets him by throwing his arms around his neck, "What took you so long?" he asks, leaning forward to bring their lips together.

Eddie hums against him and lets go of the door, letting it swing closed in favor of grabbing on to his boyfriend.

His arms circle Steve's waist and pull him closer as they kiss.

"Didn't wanna be too obvious" Eddie murmurs against Steve's lips, noticing there's no smell of popcorn or any sound from the microwave.

Steve hums, then grabs Eddie's face with both hands and soundly kisses him once, twice.

"I think I'm about ready to tell them," Steve comments when he pulls back, lowering his hands to Eddie's shoulders.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, feeling his heart pick up its pace.

Steve liking him back is one thing, getting to be together like this another, but him telling everyone about it? Eddie hadn't even dared to dream that big in the year or so that he spent pining after the most beautiful boy he's ever met.

Steve nods, a smile growing on his face.

"Cool," Eddie comments, unable to hide the huge grin that's surely showing his dimples.

Steve giggles, that wonderful sound reserved only for Eddie, and nods again, "Mmhm" he agrees, leaning forward again, placing his mouth on his and tangling his fingers in his hair.

Eddie searches his tongue the way he knows Steve likes, steals his air and sucks on his lower lip when they need to part, enjoying the way Steve's body goes boneless, melts against his hold.

"God, I love your mouth," Eddie sighs, making Steve laugh softly against him,

"Are you staying over tonight?" Steve asks, pleasantly scratching the back of Eddie's skull,

"If you want me to, babydoll," Eddie offers, thoroughly enjoying the blush that the ridiculous petname elicits as Steve scoffs and looks away from him.

Eddie takes the opportunity to smack a kiss on his cheek, feeling Steve's smile get wider.

He turns back to Eddie and his smile fades a little, Eddie turns his head to the side, worry creeping up inside him.

"Please stay," Steve asks, with something serious in his eyes,

Eddie understands. Maybe more than Steve would expect him to. So he makes it his priority to reciprocate his boyfriend's seriousness and moves both his hands up to hold Steve's face,

"For as long as you'll have me, sweetheart," he promised, hoping Steve can hear his sincerity, can understand how much he means it when they look into each others' eyes.

Steve smiles with something like wonder and brings their lips together again.

Eddie moves one of his hands to the back of Steve's head, and grabs onto his hair there, circling the other around his waist again and walking them back until Steve softly bumps the kitchen counter.

Steve sits on top of the counter with practiced ease, using Eddie's shoulders to jump up and then opening his legs like he always does.

And like always, it drives Eddie insane.

He takes his place between Steve's legs, kissing him insistently, his hands moving from his waist to the top of his thighs, rubbing there as he goes to kiss his neck, when the door opens.

Eddie's heart stops.

In the span of a few seconds which seem infinite to him, Eddie freezes, looks up from Steve's neck to his face, finds him staring ahead with eyes as wide as plates and straightens up, letting go of Steve's thighs to turn around and find Gareth rummaging through the fridge.

An agonizingly long minute passes.

None of them say anything, Steve staying atop the counter and Eddie frozen in place, until Gareth straightens up with a can on his hand, and looks at them like he hadn't even realized they were there when he came in.

Eddie can only raise his eyebrows.

"Sorry, Jeff did want a coke after all," Gareth says, like it explains anything, "You know how he is," he comments,

Eddie stares.

"Did ...you want us to pause the movie?" Gareth asks.

Eddie blinks.

"Uh, no. That's okay," Steve answers,

"Alright." Gareth says slowly, "...Cool," he concludes, and then he exits the kitchen without another word.

Eddie frowns, a little mindblown, immediately turning back to Steve and finding a similar frown on his face.

"Did you-?" Steve asks,

"No!" Eddie cuts in, scandalized and a little panicked, "Of course not! We agreed we wouldn't tell anyone!"

Steve's frown dissipates to give way to a soft smile. He places his hand against Eddie's cheek. "I know," he affirms, "sorry."

Eddie rolls his eyes a little, letting Steve know no apology is necessary and he sighs, calmer now that he can see that Steve's not freaking out.

He leans into his boyfriend's hand more.

"Do you think Robin-?" he ventures,

"I don't think so," Steve answers softly, "Last I heard Chrissy doesn't even know yet. And that was last week" he comments, moving his hand to tuck Eddie's hair behind his ear, absentmindedly caressing the strands after.

"I don't think she would tell Chris without telling me," Steve assures him,

Chrissy does suspect. Eddie met her a little later than he met Steve but she's rapidly become his best friend and regularly refers to Steve and Eddie as 'a couple'.

Eddie used to blush hard at the comments, before they got together. And she never pushed, but it was the thing that got him to notice that his looks were returned, got him to understand that Steve doesn't actually treat anyone else the way he treats Eddie.

Now he just sort of scoffs when she mentions it, but he hasn't told her either. Wanted to let Steve set their pace.

"I mean he is known to be distracted" Eddie offers about Gareth,

Steve laughs silently, "There's no way he didn't notice me up on the counter and you between my legs, baby,"

Baby.

Eddie blushes. He can't get over the pet names, especially when Steve only uses them in private.

He returns his hands to rest on top of Steve's thighs and leans up to kiss him, trying to cool the heat in his cheeks.

It does not work.

Steve rubs their noses together when they pull apart, resting his hands on Eddie's shoulders, "You wanna tell 'em?" he asks,

"If you do," Eddie says, "but tell me if there's anything that should change" he requests,

One of Steve's hands holds his face again, his thumb softly moving back and forth on his cheek.

"Like what?" he asks, barely above a whisper,

"I don't know," Eddie answers, racking his brain for an example, "like, ...are you into PDA?" he asks in the same tone, not wanting to burst the bubble they created,

Steve strokes Eddie's hair again, turns his head and purses his lips, thinking,

"I'd like to hold your hand" he settles on.

He's gonna kill Eddie, one of these days, his heart will grow so big from how sweet Steve is, that it'll explode.

Eddie has to press his lips together so he doesn't smile ear to ear.

"That's not PDA, I don't think,"

"No?" Steve innocently asks, he knows what he's doing, the bastard. Eddie wants to melt.

"No, angel,"

"You want us to kiss with tongue in front of everyone?" Steve asks, in the same tone, but with a shit eating grin,

Eddie snorts loudly, has to lean his head on Steve's shoulder to suppress his laugh.

"No, I don't think I want that," he says, straightening up while his shoulders still shake with his laughter,

"Good," Steve says, looking smug, "Me neither,"

He places a kiss against Eddie's temple, gently scratches the back of Eddie's skull and asks, "What about you? Do you have anything?"

"Was thinking I like the things you call me in private," Eddie murmurs, emboldened by the tender touch,

Steve smiles softly, but wags his eyebrows.

Eddie laughs again, almost shy, "Shut up." he protests, "You don't even call me anything different in bed,"

Steve joins him, laughing softly, but then his eyes soften too.

"Hmm," he hums, leaning down to close the distance between them, "I can save the pet names just for you" he murmurs,

Eddie leans up the small fraction left to join their lips again, and Steve softly kisses back.

"Anything else?" Eddie asks as they pull back,

"Can I have shotgun privileges? And hold your hand while you drive?" Steve requests,

" 'Course you can" Eddie grins, sure that there are hearts in his eyes when he leans up to briefly kiss Steve's jaw,

"What else?" Eddie asks,

"Want your hands in my hair" Steve answers easily, in the syrupy tone he always gets when Eddie gets his mouth anywhere near his neck,

"Anytime," Eddie grants, softly biting where he just kissed,

"You?" Steve asks,

"Would you wear my clothes out of the house?" Eddie tries,

Steve smiles and kisses both his eyelids, making him chuckle a bit "I'd love that",

"Something more?" Steve gently probes,

"We can figure out the rest as we go?"

"Sounds like a plan."

---

"Eddie and I are together" Steve proudly announces to his friends after the movie's over and the pizza's gone.

He takes Eddie's hand in his and Eddie smiles at him so wide, his cheeks hurt.

Robin squeals. Eddie turns to look at her and sees Chrissy doing the same, with a confused frown on her face.

Eddie thinks that's weird, but when he looks at the rest of their friends he finds expectant looks on their faces. Like they didn't understand or something.

After a beat, Nancy asks, "What do you mean?"

"Uh. We're dating," Steve answers, a little nervous now. Eddie softly squeezes his hand.

"Yeah, you have been for like a year, right?" Chrissy answers this time, "Certainly since I met you guys,"

Eddie gawks at her, "What?"

"Robin, did you tell her?" Steve asks,

"I didn't!" she defends,

"Tell me what?" Chrissy asks, turning to her,

Eddie cannot believe his ears.

"Wait," Jeff says, "you weren't dating before?"

"Before what?" Jon asks,

"Before we met Chrissy?" Gareth tries,

Eddie's whipping his head back and forth between them as they speak,

"When did we meet her?" Argyle asks,

"Was it last year?" Freak adds on,

"Shush! " Nancy urges, pulling everyone's attention to her,

"How long have you two been dating?" she asks Steve and Eddie,

"A month?" Eddie says, his head spinning,

"And a half" Steve finishes,

Robin snorts and the group erupts into protests,

"No way."

"What?"

"Nu-uh,"

"What the-"

"Oh my god?? "

"There's no way!"

Eddie nods at them, "Yeah, how long did you all think we had been dating for?"

"Before we met Chrissy!" they answer almost in unison.

"What? Why?" Steve asks,

"Because you go on dates," Jeff answers,

"What!? " Eddie's beginning to sound like a broken record,

"Yeah, you guys go shopping, and to the record store" Argyle explains,

"And to dinner at each other's places" Freak finishes,

"I do that with all of you!" Eddie protests,

"Yeah, as a group," Gareth counters,

Steve turns to look at him and presses his lips together when Eddie looks back.

"Don't you dare," Eddie warns, already trying to swallow the laughter bubbling up his throat,

"Wait, so you thought you were always sitting next to each other by happenstance?" Chrissy asks,

"You save our seats together? " Steve asks her like it's the most heart warming thing he's ever heard,

Eddie lets go of Steve's hand in order to bury his face in his own, he can feel his blush against his palms.

"You know we could hear you making out in the kitchen right?" Nance asks,

Eddie groans loudly just as Robin bursts out laughing.

"You platonically watched a movie together on Valentine's?" Argyle asks skeptically, "At the theater?"

"Oh my god " Eddie complaints,

That's what topples Steve. His laughter filling Eddie's ears.

He has to come out of his hiding place to look at him, seeing Steve joyful is what he was put on this Earth to do, Eddie thinks.

"You platonically got him a sunflower bouquet for his birthday?" Jon piles on,

"He said he'd never gotten flowers before!" Eddie defends as everyone laughs,

Steve chuckles, rubbing Eddie's back soothingly,

"What was I supposed to do?" Eddie turns to him,

Steve smiles brightly and places a kiss on his shoulder.

Eddie smiles back, placing a hand on Steve's knee.

As embarrassed as he is, he's really glad everyone finally knows.

Sneaking around was fun, but nothing can compare to having Steve like this.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

(Tattoo Artist!Eddie Munson x Apprentice!Reader)

Summary: . . . After deciding you were meant for more than what life had in store for you, you gave into the siren call of the city─well a city. But when city life finally eats away at your bank account and your main source of income isn't reliable, you take on an apprenticeship at a tattoo shop where your boss is the six-foot something, tattoo covered Eddie Munson who quickly and unwisely becomes intrigued by you. Nothing romantic can come from it, lest you risk it being torn apart by your past, his lover and yourself.

Entire Work Warnings: 18+ (smut will take place in later chapters), swearing, financial problems, mentions of loss, escorts/call girls, age gap (Eddie is 36, reader is 25), financial shaming, slut shaming, implied sexual harassment, bimbo!reader (she may not be book smart but she knows the score) angst, self-sabotage.

a/n: based on my initial post and elements of Breakfast at Tiffany's. next chapters will be significantly juicer, this was just something to get us going. this is dedicated to @munsonology, happy birthday and I hope this year was a good one! and a very gratitude filled thank you to my dear friend, @kitmon, for continuing to be an an amazing beta! hope you guys like it so far ♡ (attempting the keep reading feature, fingers crossed)

word count: 5k

“They don’t bite.” “Hmn?” Came your absent-minded reply, eyes cutting from the harpy, evil in her eyes and blood soaking her talons, to the man flipping through the red binder you’d been carrying around you in the Indianapolis heat. 

  Sweat evaporated off your skin, giving away to goosebumps in the air conditioned shop, a much welcome relief to the borderline unbearable heatwave settling over the city streets, something that can be found in every nook and cranny. You’d been navigating your way throughout the city since before dawn broke, eager to get your fill of it while the streets were quiet and a decent temperature. It had been almost chilly this morning, your thick strapped tank top and daisy dukes—that you normally wouldn’t allow yourself to be caught dead in—leaving most of your skin exposed, with no direct sunlight to warm it. Now that the sun was out, you were on fire out there.

“The artwork.” He glanced at the framed harpy drawing along the wall, the one you’d been staring at, one of many framed depictions of gruesome and mythical looking creatures. “I don’t blame you though, that one isn’t particularly my favorite. Pretty badass, though. Heh.” “Oh,” You shook your head, the oversized shades adorning your face sliding down the bridge of your nose, “No, I’m not afraid of it. I like it. It must have taken forever though.”

  You turned your attention to her again, admiring how realistic her feathers appeared. Painstakingly detailed and whoever was walking around the city with her on their body surely endured a generous amount of pain to get her. 

  And a large hole in their wallet.

  “It took a ton of sessions, for sure. My boy did it a couple years ago.” The man, Argyle, as he’d introduced himself when you’d first walked into the shop, flipped his long black hair over his shoulder before he flipped to the next page of your portfolio. He let out a sound of appreciation as he leaned his weight on his elbow, hand resting over his mouth.

  “This is good! This is really good!”

You lifted your chin to peer at the drawing he was fascinated with. Ah.

It was a drawing of the skeletal Grim Reaper, cloaked in a black robe and scythe clutched in one hand while his boney middle fingers stretched his eye socket holes down in an obvious taunt. A tongue, black and tendril like, lulled out of his mouth.

You thought it was pretty good, too. The idea for it had struck you at a party, you’d been hiding from an annoying suitor and ducked into an office room, doodling to your heart's content once you grew past your boredom.

You grinned, a feeling of giddiness beginning to bubble inside you.

“Listen, the DM’s out right now, running some errands. He should be back soon, can I hold onto this?” Argyle asked, gripping the sides of the binder and raising it as if you didn’t already know he was referring to your portfolio, “I think he’ll be pretty impressed with your stuff.” You fidgeted with your fingers, giddiness giving away to nerves once more. “Really? You think so?” Hope was something you hadn’t felt in a while; you’d been through exactly fourteen tattoo shops throughout the city, most of which you’d been rebuffed from before they so much as flipped open your portfolio, having already decided your particular aesthetic didn’t fit their image. They hadn’t verbalized as much, but you knew. You glanced down at your pink boots, already such a stark contrast to the black beams beneath your feet.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if you hadn’t made a wager with yourself, you could only go home once you’d accomplished your task of getting one of the shop owners to actually look at your work. While Argyle had made it clear he wasn’t the head honcho, he’d be passing it along.

“Yeah, man! This is some pretty legit stuff! I’ve been tatting, myself, for a couple years now, and I’m good–don’t wanna flex or nothing but I’m really good. Only it took a couple of years for me to actually get this good, you know? And I’m not even talking about on skin. You haven’t tattooed anyone before, right?” You thought back to when you had mentioned your art skill to a brief...something, he’d been intoxicated enough on expensive wine and your sangria kisses to encourage you to use the tattoo kit one of your friends had re-gifted you after her interest in the subject waned. You’d never particularly imagined yourself etching into people’s skin before, not even when she’d given you the supplies because she’d seen some of your doodles.

Thanks to her, a suit and tie you no longer spoke to, who made more money than you’ll ever see, was walking around with a secret under his briefs: a pair of shiny cherries on his left ass cheek.

  It was no loss to you. Sure, he made money. Just not nearly enough for you to tolerate how aggressive he’d been with his affections as soon as he was sloshed. You’d given him the tattoo with his drunk pals cheering him on, went out to a very high standard club, then promptly ditched him the moment you were out of his sight. You hadn’t answered the door when he came pounding on it the next morning and the morning after that.

  You’d originally had no intentions of using the tattoo equipment, until that encounter. It had planted a seed, an idea that may get you out of what you had to do to survive. Tattooing hadn’t been a passion, and it still wasn’t quite one but you needed money and you had talent.

“No,” You lied with a shake of your head, “I haven’t.”

“That’ll change soon,” he laughed, closing your binder as he leaned further over the glass counter. Your gaze briefly flickered to the jewelry it housed.

  “You got a number we can reach you at?”

  You’d scrawled the number of your landline down on the back of one of their business cards before Argyle could rethink his decision to pass your work along. 

  “Hopefully, we’ll see you soon!” He called out as you retreated towards the door.

  God, I hope so.

  The thought of a somewhat stable job that could help the pitiful state of your checking and savings account was the only thing powering you through your long walk home. You couldn’t risk a cab, that would mean you’d have no fare money for tonight, and who knows if you’d have to make a speedy exit?

  You’d learned. Eventually.

  Forty-five minutes later, you entered your apartment, sagging back against the door as you dropped your bag and kicked your shoes off, unconcerned as to where exactly they’d landed. 

  Sweat glistened over your skin, and unlike in that last tattoo shop, there was no air conditioning to cool you. You and Sid saved that for special occasions.

  Instead, you opened the large window to the fire escape, obnoxious sounds of the city you called home filling the apartment.

  It wasn’t much, but it was better. Next came the matter of your clothes, stuck in the most uncomfortable of ways to your flesh. Your tank top was peeled off and thrown over the couch, daisy dukes abandoned near the entryway of the small kitchen on your way to the bathroom.

  A quick glance was spared behind you, taking in the state of your shared home. It was a mess and not even remotely surprising. The place was barely furnished with the essentials, all of which were secondhand: a couch, a coffee table with a sheet over it to hide the stains, one shelving unit, a rug and tapestries hung artfully on the walls for deception. They made the place look more put together than it was, but you’d love it even if it were still barren. A roof over your head in the city meant you didn’t have to return to the past you’d clawed your way out of..

  The only thing worth much was the framed photo on the kitchen counter, and that was only in sentimental value. You and Sid, arms around each other’s shoulders as you sat in a booth at a shitty diner you’d tried upon first moving to the city. They’d taken your photo for being the 600th customer and tacked it to the wall.

  You’d stolen it and had no regrets because you got to keep your memory and ended up getting food poisoning.

  With a shrug, you entered the bathroom for a much needed scrub down and some disassociating. Your mess could wait.

  ─

  Eddie was not in a great mood when he walked into the shop.

  His jacket was clutched in a sweaty palm, rings twisting around the flesh of his fingers and his bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead, all the result of the walk from his fucking car to the shop door. 

  “Grumpy?” Argyle asked, amused with the clear annoyance on his face.

  Eddie sneered, standing under the vent for a minute to cool down, “Triple digits. Triple fucking digits out there, man. You could shove a thermometer up the devil’s asshole and it’d be cooler than that.”

  Once he’d solidified, he stalked past the front desk, threw his jacket onto the counter and picked up a stack of mail.

  “Did I miss anything?” Eddie asked as he flipped through the envelopes, mostly junk.

  “A couple of walk-ins. Nothing too major there, handled them myself. Simple stuff, one wanted a goldfish. Not like a detailed one, like how you’d try and draw a goldfish cracker. We did have a few who wanted a couple of advance pieces, got ‘em booked for consultations with Johnny boy and Rob.”

  “Nice,” Eddie chuckled under his breath at the mental image of the goldfish tattoo, most likely an act of affection. Tattooing people who wanted to permanently carry reminders of their children was one of Eddie’s favorites to do, partially because of the sentiment but mostly because the drawings were amusing.

  He’d just finished tossing out the junk mail when he reached for his jacket to hang it up properly and discovered it had been concealing something. 

  “What’s this?” Eddie asked as he lifted the slim red binder. Looked relatively new.

  “Huh?” Argyle glanced up from the sketch he was working on, recognition flashing across his face, “Oh, yeah! We got a prospective new hire, someone dropped off their portfolio.”

  Eddie rolled his eyes and heaved out a heavy sigh as his jacket was tossed aside yet again. He had nothing against other tattoo artists, but the last one he’d hired that hadn’t come from his friend group ended up nearly destroying the group. 

  Henry had been charming, good at his job and charismatic. Turns out, he’d also been a master manipulator and had a particularly abhorrent temper. Tensions had been high, heads were butting and fights had occurred—with a permanent reminder in the wall near the front entrance where a large hole had been punched through. Henry had to go.

  Eddie wasn’t looking to repeat the situation.

  “I think we’re good on artists around here–and put a reminder on the calendar for me to patch that damn crater up.”  

  “Well, it’s a good thing the artist isn’t a tattoo artist. Yet. I’d look at that portfolio first before making any decisions, if I were you. I think you’re gonna see the beginnings of something goooooood, and dude, you’ll be killing our fun if you fix it. Do you know how many glory hole jokes we tell?” Eddie ignored the latter half of Argyle’s statement, reluctantly flipping the portfolio open to the first page and annoyance began to associate itself with him once more. 

  A body, in a state of decomposition greeted him. But it wasn’t maggots or rotting flesh involved. Flowers grew out of the crevices, with moss and mushrooms over her skin. A lot of fine line work.

  The next page was home to a bird-like creature with the body of a lion, a Griffin. Done in American Traditional.

  A skinny, demonic looking goat with horns and legs long enough to belong to a horse, clouded eyes and wyvern wings was on the page after that. The Jersey Devil. Someone knew their Cryptids.

  The portfolio contained a vast amount of drawings from horror depictions to more aesthetically pleasing visions; the hydra, skeletons, dragons, goddesses, respectable attempts at the modern Renaissance pieces, and even a couple of Barbie references, ranging in a variety of tattoo styles. 

  Eddie closed the portfolio and drummed his fingertips across the countertop, scowling. 

  That long haired doofus was right. This was beyond good work. But if they weren’t a tattoo artist, there wasn’t much Eddie could do with them. Drawing on paper is a much more different experience than skin. Mistakes can be erased on paper, the sketch done over again. Can’t do the same on flesh. 

  It’s intimidating. 

  They’d have to start off slow, like he had. Trained under a watchful eye, an expert who’d guide them with experienced hands. He was sure Jonathan and Robin would be eager to have an apprentice.

  But before Eddie would even begin to entertain the idea of an apprentice in his shop, he’d have to see exactly what it was he was working with.

  “Leave a number?” He asked without looking at Argyle because he knew he’d see nothing but a smug expression.

  “Yup.”

  “See if you can get him back in the shop tomorrow.”

  “Why not today?”

  “Because I have a session for the rest of the day, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah! I forgot.” Argyle’s grin was sheepish as he read off the calendar. “Stacy Peterson called. Car troubles. Unable to make it to appointment with Eddie. Rescheduled. Heh. So…you also missed that.”

  “I’ll strangle you later, just get him in here then.”

  Argyle opened his mouth, then closed it as an expression that said I know something you don’t crossed his strong features. “Righty-O, boss. I’ll give him a call.”

  You’d been lounging in the bathtub, hair up and out of the way, eyeing the grooves of the shower tile. They were a permanent taunt, stained dark no matter how hard you and Sid scrubbed and you hated the sight of them. 

  People with money didn't have to stare at them, able to afford to have them professionally cleaned or the shower wall—the entire bathroom renovated.

  Someday, that would be you. 

  You sunk further into the water, toeing at the faucet when the shrill sound of the landline filled your more than humble home. The thought of simply letting it ring played in your head until you remembered the tattoo shop you’d visited last. 

  Hastily rising from the tub, water was splashed along the floor while you did a terrible job of drying off and ran naked the rest of the way to the living room, almost slipping as you did.

  The receiver was yanked off its post, “Hello?”

  “What’s up, Dudette? Argyle calling, dunno if you remember me from earlier…”

  “Yeah! From the tattoo shop, right?”

  “Right-O! Listen, The Dungeon Master is in and he wants to see if you can get down here to show him what you got. Possible?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be no problem!” You’d have to run most of the way but street traffic around this time wasn’t that bad so you wouldn’t have to fight your way through bodies.

  “Cool, cool, cool. And between you and me, this is pretty much the interview process. Good luck, dudette, and may the force be with your tattie skills. I’ll see you when you get here!”

  As soon as you’d hung up, you ran to your room to get dressed. You didn’t have much of a wardrobe, but it wasn’t high on your list of priorities considering you and Sid practically shared one. Another tank top was selected—to mitigate sweating on your way to your interview—along with a gifted pink thong and matching bra. You’d snagged your Daisy Dukes from the floor on your way out, shimmied them on, grabbed your small bag and keys and headed out.

  The selection of attire was a good one, the heat was still stupidly unbearable and heavy. You’d need to wash off again tonight. You’d managed to make it to the shop in under twenty-five minutes, having ignored all the looks you’d received as you hurried along the streets and the feeling of the air conditioner on your skin was a welcome one when you made your way back into the shop.

  Argyle greeted you with a bright grin from his place behind the counter, throwing up his hands, “You made it! One sec.”

  Then he turned his upper body to call into an area you couldn’t quite see into, “Oh, Eddie boy! Your prospect has arrived.”

  You hadn’t cared to entertain ideas on what your potential boss could look like, all you were concerned about was the position and getting your foot in the door. Even if you had tried to imagine him, nothing could have prepared you for the actual sight of him when he emerged.

  He was big, tall and cloaked in black, despite the heat of the city. He wore what you figured had once been a black t-shirt but was now lacking sleeves and a proper neck hem to be considered a makeshift tank. His pants were shiny leather and also tight, hugging the muscles of his thighs, and he sported a dark pair of pointed boots.

  He wasn’t particularly muscular enough to be the body builder type, but it looked like he could probably pick another grown man up with ease. His skin had a light tan to it, barely anything really, just like everyone else, he obviously couldn’t escape the sun. It was littered with intricate tattoos, weaving up his arms—a few you could tell disappeared under his shirt—and his neck.

  The word freak was permanently etched in black ink along his temple and over his eyebrow. Two silver balls decorated his other eyebrow.

  Leaning up against the back wall like that, arms crossed to make the muscles of his arms bulge slightly and oozing confidence, he looked like the personification of some really good sex.

  But he wasn’t what you were seeking out and you didn’t like to mix business with pleasure.

  Eddie was caught completely off guard, trying to school his shock and keep his composure.

  When he’d seen that portfolio, he was expecting someone with jagged edges, piercings galore and more than just a couple of tattoos to be behind it and standing in the entryway of his shop.

  Someone who looked like their art.

  You…didn’t. With your little pink cowboy boots, tank top that accentuated your figure and shorts so small, they should’ve been considered a form of underwear, you didn’t look at all similar to what Eddie was expecting. Not even if he closed his eyes.

  You didn’t waste time, quickly introducing yourself as you stepped up to the front desk and Eddie pulled himself from his stupor, closing the distance to shake your palm. Smaller than his (though most were) and slightly sweaty, no doubt due to that god forsaken heat outside.

  Eddie could see bits of your hair sticking to your skin, little beads of sweat prickling over your exposed collarbone and trailing down, down between your─

  “Thank you for taking the time to even look at my portfolio! I really appreciate it.”

  Eddie blinked hard, clearing his throat before smirking to pretend he hadn’t been drawn in by your chest.

  What the fuck was wrong with him all of a sudden? 

  He’d had plenty of beautiful clients, he’d tattooed nice asses, tits, pubic regions, thighs, all the beautiful areas. Now all of a sudden he was acting like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. 

  Hell, Eddie had been thoroughly busy with a pair, held them in his hands before he came into the shop.

  Professionalism, he reminded himself.

  “Not a problem, what I see—saw was pretty impressive,” Nice save, Eddie, you dick. He cursed himself, “You adapt well to different styles.”

  “Thanks!” You chirped, excitement filling you at the praise. It was so nice to hear positive feedback about your work instead of being sent out of a shop before they so much as opened your binder. “I like to experiment with different styles, see what it is that people like so much about them and honestly, it’s mostly because I haven’t quite found my art style just yet.”

  Hence your range, you were constantly expanding with your art because you hadn’t found one style you wanted to make yours yet. Or maybe you had and just didn’t know it yet. Whatever.

  Eddie and Argyle exchanged a look before he stepped back and nodded in the direction he came, “Why don’t you follow me? Show me what you can do?”

  You didn’t hesitate, stepping past the front desk.

  There was more artwork lining the short hall he took you down until you arrived at another room, obviously one meant for actual tattooing as there was a tattoo chair in the middle of the room. 

  On one of the counters, was an area already prepped for you. A tattoo gun, some ink, and some obviously fake skin that rested on top of a disposable sheet cloth, along with some gloves.

  “Argyle tells me you haven’t worked on skin before.”

  Sure you haven’t.

  “Not a whole lot of people lining up to get tattooed by someone with no experience,” you shrugged, following him over to the counter he was leaning up against.

  “You’re hanging around the wrong crowd then.” He joked and you let out a small laugh.

  He had no idea how right he was.

  “The first tattoos I ever got were from inexperienced people. This one,” he gestured to a Wyvern on the back of his arm, “I got my junior year of high school from a waitress at a bar I always snuck into.”

  “And this one,” he yanked the tattered collar of his shirt down to expose more ink, but the one he was referring to was a spider, “I got my first senior year from someone I did…business with.”

  First senior year? Eddie was proving to be an interesting character.

  “But enough about me,” Eddie released his shirt, allowing it to hide the artwork depicted on his chest, “let’s get down to business.”

  Before he could even explain what everything was, you dropped your purse onto the counter nearby, pulling a small box of unopened gloves from it.

  “You mind?” You asked, fingers poised to rip it open.

  “Go for it,” He shrugged. Gloves were gloves, so long as they were uncontaminated he didn’t mind.

  You tore into them and Eddie was still somehow surprised to see they were pink. Clearly his black ones weren’t your style.

  “Can I ask you a question?” You asked as you pulled the gloves on. Eddie watched you, intrigued as you finished assembling the tattoo gun without his help and opened the ink pack. 

  “Sure,” He mused, eyeing you skeptically. Hadn’t tattooed anyone but you were clearly familiar with it. Interesting.

  “Did your tattoos hurt?”

  Eddie waited until after you’d started the tattoo gun and got into working on the fake flesh. Apparently you already had an idea in mind.

  “A bit of an amateur question, you don’t have one?”

  “Nope.” You confirmed, paying him no mind as you leaned forward, gaze focused solely on your task, “I kind of want one but I’m not in any particular rush, you know?”

  Eddie made a sound of agreement, at a brief loss of words as you arched your back, ass sticking out and he became painfully aware you were wearing a hot pink thong, the tails of it peaking out past the top of your denim shorts. He should’ve offered you a seat but you didn’t seem all that bothered with standing.

  No, that was apparently his foil, because he was incredibly bothered by you standing, especially with your ass out like that; when it made his pants tighten considerably in his crotch region.

  He was getting hard. 

  Eddie was mortified, stiffening (go figure) as he attempted to calm himself, eyes darting away from your ass to stare at one of the cabinets. Of course this had to happen to him on the day he chose to wear a pair of pants that left little to the imagination should the boy downstairs start acting up.

  Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

  “Hurts, depending on the area, which I’m sure you already know. The tattoos on my back and my thighs hurt pretty bad. Forearms were a bitch, but nothing I couldn’t handle. The ones on my wrists and hands were the worst, pain wise, in my opinion. Obviously it didn't stop me, but those tend to be areas with a lot of bones, veins and very little muscle, so it’s expected.”

  You hummed in response and his gaze briefly flittered over to you before his cock pulsed and he tore it away again, grateful your attention wasn’t on him.

  The remainder of the ‘session’ was spent in relative silence with the music playing through the speakers installed throughout the shop, keeping it from being awkward. Eddie had just managed to will his erection away when you finished, setting down the gun before you pulled your gloves off.

  “What do you think?” You asked, still admiring your work and Eddie peered around you to assess it.

  A wyvern, similar to the one on his arm but done in a fine line style.

  He chuckled, amused with your reference and you fought valiantly with yourself not to grin. You were trying to impress him, sticking with a subject he liked enough to make it a part of him permanently, but you hadn’t imitated the style of it to keep from downright copying and to showcase your ability to adapt.

  “That’s pretty good,” And it was, not a whole lot of people could get lines that perfect or seem as confident in their abilities on their first try. Still, Eddie could tell you’d have some ways to go before you were ready to be on your own, “but you can do better.”

  You tried not to frown, “Oh.”

  Eddie smirked and you finally turned to face him, apprehension on your face.

  “Don’t look so down. After some time around here, watching us work, you’ll be ready. The apprenticeship will fly by in no time.”

  “Wait—you mean—you want me?!”

  “I’d be stupid not to.”

  You let out a squeal and threw yourself at him, giving him a quick squeeze before your brain caught up to your body and you pulled away.

  “Sorry, sorry! I’m just so excited.”

  Eddie cleared his throat, shifting his body away from you and rasped out, “Argyle will have the paperwork for you to fill out.”

  “Got it,” You grabbed your bag and was just about to head out of the room when Eddie called your name, “Huh?”

  “Be back at the same time tomorrow. You’ll be practicing on real skin.” 

  “But I thought you said—” 

  “Me.”

  Something in you bubbled with excitement and nerves.

  You nodded once and then left the room to see Argyle for your paperwork.

  “So?????” Argyle asked once you’d approached him, a sullen look on your face. 

  You couldn’t keep the act up, beaming as you practically bounced, “I’ll be seeing you around more often now!” 

  He whooped, extending an arm out for a high-five which you reciprocated.

  “You are gonna love it here, Dudette. Just wait until you meet everyone! First, we gotta start on your employment.” 

  Your brows furrowed as you watched him go through a filing cabinet.

  “Wait—this is paid?”

  “Yeah! We’re not big on slave labor here.”

  Score for you! You had a feeling you wouldn’t be clocking a ton of hours but every single penny counted, especially considering how hard of a time you had actually building a savings account.

  Argyle had walked you through the paperwork, where to sign, what things meant and since the shop was getting ready to close up you’d simply just bring the completed paperwork back with you tomorrow.

  The door chimed behind you and you turned to see who could be coming in at the last minute, eyes widening at the voluptuous woman before you. Her hair was long and jet black, skin pale (apparently one person in this city was capable of defying the sun) and make-up done so elegantly it reminded you of actresses from the silver screen era. Her dress was simple, black and hugged her curves exceptionally well. You could tell it was worth more than everything in your apartment combined and you’d feel bad about it if you also couldn’t tell she was older than you. 

  You’d have time to get there.

  “Hey, Deidre.”

  “Hello, Argyle.” She gave the both of you a dazzling smile as she removed her sunglasses and walked right past Argyle, down the hall you’d come from.

  He didn’t even look surprised and paid her no real attention.

  “We’ll see you soon?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Argyle let out another cheer as you walked out the door with high spirits. Not even the nasty, hot air could get you down.

  You’d climbed up the stone steps until you reached the sidewalk and glanced behind you at the neon sign depicting the name of the tattoo shop you’d now be working at.

  “Welcome to The Dungeon,” You mumbled to yourself with a smile. 

  You turned back to the sidewalk, staring down at the pathway you’d have to take before you thought better of it, sticking your fingers into your mouth to give a sharp whistle.

  It caught the attention of a cab driver down the street, and you gave him your address when he’d pulled up and you’d hopped in, ready to prepare for tonight's plans. You deserved a little break, after all, you were one step closer to securing the future of your dreams.

  Eddie sagged against the counter once you’d left the room, scowling down at the bulge that had reappeared in his pants when you’d hugged him.

  Why his body was suddenly acting like he was a horny teenager again, he had no idea.

  He wasn’t about to do anything about it, though. Not when you’d be hanging around the shop for the foreseeable future. Eddie didn’t get involved with his employees. He’d worked in a couple of shops where he’d witnessed that occur and it always ended in a mess. Not a good kind.

  He busied himself with cleaning up, tossing away the supplies you’d used and storing your first piece of work. It’d be nice for you to look back at once your apprenticeship was over. When Eddie had nothing else to clean, he sighed and rubbed at his eyelids. 

  Platonic. Professional. God, if he couldn’t keep his dick in check, he’d be in a world of trouble. You’d be trouble.

  “Need a hand?”

  Eddie snapped around, relieved to see it was just Deidre. Explaining why he had a boner to anyone else wasn’t something he was keen on doing. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be telling her exactly why, either.

  Taking her up on her offer, however, was something he would eagerly do.

  “Are you offering yours?”

  She laughed, setting her purse down on the counter where your bag had been just a few minutes ago, and walked right up to Eddie, her body pressed against his and grinding onto him as the older woman slid her arms around his shoulders.

  “Mmm, not just my hand.”

  All Eddie knew next was the taste of her red lipstick.