#Song Prompt

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Heat Waves

August Prompt: Heat Waves by Glass Animals (2020) | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sexual Content | Tags: There's a Heat Wave in Hawkins, Eddie POV, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Pining, Voyeurism, Masturbation

It's fucking hot. 

The fan is doing very little to keep up with this unbearable heat wave they're going through this summer. It's hotter than balls, and Eddie is absolutely certain it has something to do with the after effects of Vecna. Like cracking open the earth somehow unleashed the heat straight from hell itself. It's undeniable that this area of Indiana is ten or more degrees hotter this summer than the surrounding areas, and honestly, watching the meteorologists bend over backwards trying to explain the cause of it is often hilarious.

There is no explanation they are ever gonna come up with that makes any sense, but god bless 'em for continuing to try.

Eddie is laying in his bed, listening to music on his headphones, because the neighbors are far too eager to call the cops on him these days. So, Wayne gently suggested the headphones, and for Wayne, Eddie obliged. Tonight, it's just him and Iron Maiden, as he lays in his boxers, hair damp with sweat. Even now, in the middle of the night, the temperature inside the trailer is nothing short of miserable. 

The scars on his side are tight, and no matter how much lotion he rubs into them, he still worries that they are always gonna be this way. Feel this way. Look this way.

Just. Be this way.

At least no one will see him here in the dark.

Wayne's at work, Henderson's surely at home in bed, and Steve is gone for the night. 

Steve's here a lot, too much probably for Steve's sanity, but Eddie isn't about to shoo him away. No fucking way. But he doesn't blame him for not wanting to stay all night in a trailer with very little air movement. It's a hot box. 

The government is supposed to do better, this is allegedly just temporary, but Eddie knows better. They brushed them off into a trailer that's worse than the one that was ripped apart, and this is exactly where they'll stay.

He's sure of it.

Temporary his ass.

But he doesn't expect Steve to suffer through it, too. Not when he has a big empty house, with all that expensive central air.

Steve tried to get him to come back to his house, but Eddie hasn't done that since his parents showed up unannounced on weekend and freaked the fuck out that Eddie Munson, Murderer, was on their couch.

Assholes.

It's a goddamn miracle that Steve isn't one, at least not anymore. Maybe not ever. Eddie isn't sure. Not now. He always thought King Steve was the asshole, but maybe, just maybe, Eddie was the asshole. Maybe they both were, in different ways. Eddie can't decide what's true.

Eddie thinks about Steve all the time. Sometimes he's all Eddie thinks about. He shouldn't. He knows that. They're friends, and that's a miracle in itself. Even if Steve did have an interest in guys, Eddie's sure he's not Steve's type. Especially not now that he's damaged goods.

The fan blows across his body, back and forth, and his one remaining nipple comes to attention with the breeze. Eddie isn't even sure why. It's not cold in here, but he still rubs his thumb across it.

It feels good, and he doesn't take for granted that he can feel anything at all there. Not now.

His dick stirs, and it's too fucking hot for that. Unless he wants to go take a cool shower, and he really doesn't want to move from right where he is. Not tonight.

But his cock hardens, trapped against his thigh, and he slides his hand under the waistband of his boxers, pulling his cock upwards. Wrapping his hand around it loosely. Jacking slowly, eyes closed. He doesn't intend to take this anywhere, not really, but if he can just show it a little half-assed attention, maybe it'll settle down.

Lazy stroke, after lazy pull, and before he knows it, he's edging himself towards a slow, easy orgasm, even if his hand is way too fucking dry, and this wasn't how he intended on this going.

But it feels good, so he keeps it up. Loose grip, slow strokes. He prefers not to rub any additional skin off of his body, thanks. He's lost enough, as is.

He thinks about Steve. How it'd feel if it was his hand instead, breathing out his name, "Steve."

And that's when he hears it, a whine.

Eddie's eyes snap open, and Steve is standing in the shadows of the doorway.

He's a mirage. The heat wave faking him out.

But he's not shimmering. He's not moving an inch. Eddie can barely see him at all, just the familiar outline.

"Steve?" Eddie finally chokes out, voice scared, as he pulls his headphones off his ears and down around his neck.

"Yeah," Steve says, "it's me. Sorry. I was staring."

Eddie laughs. He was staring. Eddie wasn't gonna mention it, but if he wants to bring it up, that's fine.

"Never seen a man jerking it before?" Eddie asks, not pulling his hand out of his boxers. His dick is still hard, and very interested in the man in front of him.

Steve licks his lips, and Eddie's dick jumps against his palm, "Yeah. Sure. Just. Not you."

"Well, I'm only a man," Eddie says, slowly pulling his hand upwards, going to stop touching himself with Steve in the room, when Steve startles him.

"No. Don't."

"Don't?" Eddie questions, hand stilled. "You want to watch?"

Steve nods.

Fucking hell.

Eddie's not shy, but this is brand new territory, even for him. Letting his friend watch him finish jerk off is nothing he's ever dreamed of before.

Eddie rubs his palm over the head of his dick, gathering up the precum there, trying to help the glide in any way he can.

His eyes are still on Steve, and Steve's own palm is crushed against his jean-clad crotch. Goddamn. 

Eddie strokes himself, lazily, keeping eye contact with Steve. Steve's sweating, drops running down his forehead. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to Eddie, and it's not even close. 

Steve's rubbing himself through his jeans, and his dick looks fucking huge, at least from here. Eddie wants to see it, touch it, taste it. Get fucked by it. Stroke it while he fucks Steve. Any of it. All of it. If he'd only be allowed,

And as much as Eddie wants to see Steve stand there stroking himself while fully-clothed until he comes in his goddamn jeans from watching him, Eddie wants more.

Eddie makes a decision, he tugs down his boxers, freeing his cock from the fabric confines. Showing all of himself to Steve. His scarred hips, his hard cock, all for Steve.

Steve's eyes are glued to him, watching as Eddie holds onto the base of his dick, cupping his balls, holding everything for Steve to see. 

"Goddamn," Steve breathes out.

"I've shown you mine," Eddie says, with a bravery he didn't know he had. He must be delirious from the heat, "Wanna show me yours?"

Steve's nodding, popping the button on his jeans, tugging the zipper, wiggling the tight denim down his thighs, taking his briefs with them.

Oh, fuck.

He's everything Eddie wished he might be, and more. 

"Look at you," Eddie says, "Can I touch?"

And that's all it takes, Steve is shimmying across the room, kicking off his shoes, getting fully undressed as Eddie yanks his boxers off, doing the same.

Then, Steve's naked body is covering his. His mouth finding Eddie's, tongue immediately sliding inside, as if they've been doing this together forever.

Eddie moans, hands rubbing up and down Steve's back, his ass, and they're both covered in a light sheen of sweat. Slick as they rub against each other, rutting their hard cocks skin-to-skin. Desperate. Hot.

This is a whole 'nother level of horny. Eddie's never felt like this in his whole life. He feels drunk, stoned, fucked up on this man who's rubbing off on him.

Eddie cups his ass cheek, squeezing, before brushing the tips of his fingers against Steve's asshole, and Steve bucks against him, coming.

Oh, fuck. They are gonna have so much fun together.

Steve leans back, and rubs his palm through his own come, and then wraps his fist around Eddie's dick, and starts jerking him off in earnest. Eddie can't decide what to look at. His own cock, being worked over by Steve. Steve's face. Or Steve's softening dick, laying against his thigh, thick and wet.

It's all so fucking good.

Steve twists his wrist, and Eddie comes, hips lifting off the bed.

And Steve smiles, laying back down on him. It's too hot for that, way, way too hot, but Eddie says nothing. He just rubs his fingers up and down Steve's slick back.

They're gonna need a shower, and soon. But right now, Eddie'll suffer through the heat wave to have this wet dream of a moment together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part II

I can't steal you (like you stole me) - You, The Pretty Reckless

Spinning all these stories - Skinny Bitch, Lena Meyer-Landrut

It's just another rainy Sunday afternoon - Lemon Tree, Fool's Garden

When I watch the world burn (all I think about is you) - Doom Days, Bastille

Let's compare scars (I′ll tell you whose is worse) - Swing Life Away, Rise Against

Sunsets and silhouette dreams - You be the anchor [...], Mayday Parade

Who could deny these butterflies? - Remembering Sunday, All Time Low

As we say our long goodbyes - Run, Snow Patrol

Naked bodies look like porcelain - Love, Daughter

I wish you were a stranger - Over my head (Cable Car), The Fray

Send my regards to hell - Blame, Bastille

We do fall before we rise - Blood & Glitter, Lord of the Lost

Our hearts beat (control them) - In spirit golden, I Blame Coco

Admiring from afar - we fell in love in october, girl in red

The safest place to hide - MakeDamnSure, Taking Back Sunday

I am my own worst enemy - The Consequence, You Me At Six

My lover and my best friend - Rehab, Rihanna

It's a sign that someone loves you - Don't swallow the cap, The National

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin - Take me to church, Hozier

The wonderful mess that we made - Flaws, Bastille

Drink the poison lightly - I'm not the one, 3OH!3

Saving life in the dark - Believe, Yellowcard

To warm the cold side of the pillow - Hunger of the Pine, alt-J

I'd probably still adore you - 505, Arctic Monkeys

You killed me with your smile - Tonight, Reamonn

Mistaken for strangers by your own friends - Mistaken for strangers, The National

Three whole words and eight letters late - Fireworks, You Me At Six

You say you love me and you roll your eyes - Everyway that I can, Sertab Erener

I'm so surprised you want to dance with me now - Pink Rabbits, The National

To distract our hearts from ever missing them - Youth, Daughter

More titles!

[luriwoo]

꒱ pretty u - woonhak

pairing. woonhak x f!reader

genre. soft, fluff, sfw

warnings. friends to lovers, loser!woonhak, mention of curses and some bad words, cliche, mayybe cringy, mention of myungjae, song prompt, the narrative times may be a bit odd wanna kms

wc. 5k+

"When I see you, I feel like I'm out of breath, I don't usually act like this, gathering all the nice words I want to give you, but when I'm in front of you I always run out of words" (예쁘다) SEVENTEEN

nt. soo, this is the first fic i'm posting here. i was actually just thinking about reading, but while i was watching a translation of pretty u, this idea came to my head with woon and i NEEDED to write it down and publish it. hope you like it! btw english isn't my first language, so there may be some grammatical errors... i tried my best, guys. i accept feedback!

It was finally the day. The day when the coolest Kim Woonhak would ask out his biggest and only crush, one of his best friends and the prettiest girl in the world according to his own words, you.

He had been preparing all night for this moment, they say that "nothing ventured, nothing gained" and Woonhak will confirm it, even if fear ate him up completely.

According to Woonhak, you're the love of his life. He had never experienced the same feelings he felt when he met you and when he's with you, although it's true that he had liked some girls in the past, this time wasn't the same. The first time you two met was the most cliche thing in the world, leaving him completely captivated, just like love at first sight.

Remembering the past, Woonhak wasn't in a good moment, suddenly his whole environment had changed to pursue his dream, and you were like his salvation, his light at the end of the tunnel, falling madly in love with your smile and your cute big-doe eyes, reaching out to him at his worst and most unexpected moment.

That's why, after almost a year of friendship, he finally decided it was time to ask you out, something simple, but he already had a whole future in mind if everything went well...

 ༘ . ⋆

Nothing went well, he didn't even had the chance to ask you out.

To start with, when he woke up he didn't hear his alarm, arriving late to school. He hadn't even been able to take a shower and he barely managed to brush his teeth and have breakfast moments before arriving at school, mentally cursing having slept late nigth because of his nerves. Second, the teacher punished him outside the classroom for being late, and his friends making fun of him didn't help at all. And third, he didn't even had the chance to approach to you. But despite everything, Woonhak didn't gave up and decided to wait until the next day.

 ༘ . ⋆

Why weren't words coming out of his mouth? He was finally in front of you, in the perfect place, there was no one around and you were under a tree in the school yard. So why didn't he talk? His hands were sweating and his heart was beating like crazy, keeping his gaze fixed on your beautiful curious eyes, that looked at him with interest.

"I-I… y/n… w-would you like…" he stammered nervously, with a big lump in his throat, wiping the palms of his hands on the sides of his uniform pants, feeling his throat slowly dry out 'I should have drank a glass of water…' cursing mentally.

"Are you okay Woonhak?" you asked amused.

But damn, he wasn't okay, he was too nervous, his words were stuck on the tip of his tongue. Licking his lips he barely answered "oh, yeah! don't worry, I just…" scratching the back of his neck nervously.

'Please, I never ask for anything, I'll promise to believe in youㅠ' and said and done, the school bell rang, announcing the end of classes and finally breaking the awkward moment for him.

 ༘ . ⋆

"…and then she had to leave" Woonhak finished telling, letting out a frustrated groan, burying his face in his hands with great embarrassment, listening his friends laughing at the background, mocking him "affectionately"

"Gosh, Woonhak, you really don't know anything" wiping away his tears from laughter, Jaehyun leaned playfully on his shoulder "Our baby is growing up!" and with some embarrassment, Woonhak tried to get away from them with a pout on his face, before being pulled back onto the table.

"Ah, Woonhak, we'll help you, don't worry" of course he should be worried, and he accepted with some distrust, not wanting to notice the mischievous smiles of his friends.

 ༘ . ⋆

'Dating class' was the first thing Woonhak noticed when he entered his shared dorm and approached the living room, noticing a small blackboard resting on an easel and his friends around it, with glasses and notebooks in their hands, looking at it attentively and sitting him on an armchair, sitting around him while Jaehyun was still standing next to the blackboard, before clearing his throat.

"Okay Woonhak, today we'll teach you everything you need to know and do before and after a date" noticing how the rest nodded in unison "pay attention Woonhak!"

Should he be worried or happy…?

"I can't take it anymore, I have a lot to say, I can't take it anymore, I'd rather tell you in a letter"

It had been a few days since everything started, he didn't even remember the exact number of days, and still nothing went as planned, it seemed like fate was against him. When he was finally about to ask you out something unexpected always happened, and Woonhak was nothing but worried, he just had to say "Do you want to go on a date with me?" It wasn't even complicated, but he didn't had the courage to do it. Woonhak felt like his nerves were slowly eating away at him and for some reason he couldn't stop thinking if this was the right thing to do or not, like, what if he breaks your friendship because of his stupid feelings?

He had already done everything, he filled an entire notebook with nice and romantic words and phrases, he followed his friends' advices, he drank glasses of water every morning to avoid the lump in his throat, he practiced in front of the mirror, he even dressed up and made a fool of himself in front of you, and all the flowers in the small garden outside his apartment had disappeared, maybe he counted too many petals?

And finally, he began to slowly get fed up, even if he continually promised that the next time would be the charm, he couldn't stop thinking if he should just confess his feelings, even though the fear continued to eat away at his head. Maybe he's not even the right person for you, would confessing really be the right thing to do? Maybe he should look for one last flower.

And so the day had come, this time he wouldn't ask you for a simple date, this time Woonhak planned to confess his feelings to you, the person who completely stole his breath.

Where after thinking and reflecting a lot, he decided to be completely sincere and do it his way. Although it seemed cliche for others, for Woonhak it was simply perfect. If he wasn't able to talk to her face to face, what better than a love letter that spoke for him?

It had been approximately three and a half days, 11 romantic movies, three playlists of 3 hours each, approximately 29 sketches of letters with the most cheesy phrases, searches in the dictionary and finally he had finished writing the letter, delicately wrapped in an envelope.

He was standing face to face with you and with his arms outstretched, with the letter in one hand and in the other a small teddy bear. Giving you his heart completely. Where after a big breath and closing his eyes tightly, he finally let go of all his feelings, remembering the many tips and thousands of practices with himself, releasing from time to time light nervous breaths and some cute stutters.

And when he finished, he felt your soft and warm lips on his cheek, slowly opening his eyes, he lost his gaze in your deep and warm eyes in front of him, noticing the big and cute smile plastered on your face. And as the soft breeze enveloped both of you, attracted by each other, your lips finally met softly, fitting perfectly, just like a puzzle.

"You´re pretty"

[literateowl]

For @tellmegoodbye and kinda inspired by the song heavenly by broadside. Thank you for voting early 💜 I hope you like this!

This is set after 4x04 so there are hospital and injury mentions

Carlos blinks awake, stretching his arms out in front of him and into TK’s chest. 

“Good morning, how do you feel? I know your head still hurts.” 

He winces when he realizes and adjusts how he’s laying on the pillow. “Yeah, a little. just that though.”

TK already has ibuprofen tablets and a water bottle for Carlos to take. “I’ll go make breakfast. You’re staying in bed.”

“Fine. Can I at least have coffee today?” Carlos wasn’t allowed any while being kept in the hospital for observation and he is craving it now. At TK’s unsure look he adds a “Please?” with his best cow eyes. 

TK’s eyes narrow like he knows what Carlos is doing. “One cup,” he promises with a kiss and gets up. Making Carlos smile as he gingerly gets up to go to the bathroom.

So what if he’s being a little whiny? Carlos thinks. TK told him so when they were finally left alone at the hospital. His fiance has practically begged to take care of him in the past and doesn’t care how much he whines.

If anyone else was taking care of him right now, Carlos would insist he get out of bed and make his own breakfast. He repeatedly said similar things at the hospital yesterday too. It’s different with just TK though. He feels safer than he’s ever been with anyone. Given what they’ve been through in the past three days now, he has no desire to hide anything. He’d have a hard time doing that anyway. They know each other so intimately. TK knew Carlos’s head still hurt before Carlos was even fully awake. Carlos knows TK will make him a miel with oat milk and extra cinnamon mixed in, because he really likes his coffee that way but can’t always take the time. Knowing all the little things like that just makes him love TK even more. 

“You were supposed to stay in bed.” TK’s voice pulls him out of his reverie when he slides the bathroom door open. He has their coffees on their nightstands and a plate of scrambled eggs with vegetables and two forks sit on a tray next to him in bed. 

“I still have to go to the bathroom by myself, babe. Maybe you’ll even let me venture to the couch later.” Carlos says as they work together to adjust the pillows so they can sit comfortably.

“No screens yet. I won’t let you get bored though.”

“Oh yeah?” Carlos smirks suggestively.

“Not that. Shut up and have some breakfast.” 

Carlos takes a sip of his miel and closes his eyes as he hums in delight, “This is heavenly, baby.”

If you also want to participate in my election day show and tell all the information is here

[dclovesdanny]

Song prompt

Hero and Villain Duet between twins Danny and Damian.

Danny is taking out the GIW agents after they took Dani and Jazz from him, when the Batfam shows up.

[autumnsunshine10]

Song ask:

Bob Marley - Three little birds

May doubt and fear

Fly out the window

Open to enlivening light

Beauty in bloom

Never before realized

Peace and prosperity pour in

Perhaps not a deluge

But enough to get by

Sustaining smiles

Comfort even in storms

No clouds can cover

The freedom of faith

In brighter tomorrows

[dear-ao3]

saphs song prompt challenge

ring in the new year with me and a silly challenge. any fandom, any genre. only rule is that you must use the song to inspire the fic. multi chap, one shot all are welcome. do as many or as little as you want, on time or not! doesnt matter to me. most fall into the angst/hurt comfort genre because that's what i write best but i threw in some other more happy ones

theres a collection link on ao3 for them here

all of these songs are some of my favorites to write to/about and i wanted to share :)

on each day of the month ill post some of my favorite lines/a bit of analysis of each song if anyone needs a bit of inspiration. happy writing everyone

the songs:

jan 1: quite miss home by james arthur

jan 2: lonely eyes by lauv

jan 3: dear reader by taylor swift

jan 4: my friends toyota by asiris

jan 5: montana by mikey ferrari

jan 6: girl on the internet by knox

jan 7: 3 am by matchbox 20

jan 8: jet pack blues by fall out boy

jan 9: love u like that by lauv

jan 10: line without a hook by ricky montgomery

jan 11: who says you can't go home by bon jovi

jan 12: just to hear you say that you love me by faith hill

jan 13: honest by the chainsmokers

jan 14: two by sleeping at last

jan 15: i hate your friends by alex cole

jan 16: safe inside by james arthur

jan 17: all i want by kodaline

jan 18: almost lover by a fine frenzy

jan 19: stick season by noah kahan

jan 20: if i could fly by one direction

jan 21: what am i by why don't we

jan 22: falling slowly from once

jan 23: the night we met by lord huron

jan 24: roaring 20s by panic! at the disco

jan 25: wonder by shawn mendes

jan 26: best years by 5 seconds of summer

jan 27: one way ticket by one ok rock

jan 28: falling by harry styles

jan 29: give me love by ed sheeran

jan 30: illicit affairs by taylor swift

jan 31: shallow by lady gaga and bradley cooper

[coralinnii]

Busted but instead! 

It's two girls who are absolutely sure that their bestie’s bf is cheating. 

They’re hellbent on finding evidence to show their bestie they're right and can’t wait to bust him! 

Are they right? Is he actually cheating or is he just horribly (and hilariously) misunderstood? 

Who knows?~ 

Yea, she’s finally gonna see your lie. This is how it’s gonna be  When she finds out that I was always right. You’re busted! 

[onehundredflamingos]

Cover me - Bruce Spreengsteen

157 words / @drarrymicrofic

“You can’t stay in here forever,” Harry said, peering out through the blinds, at the crowd gathered on the other side of the window.

Draco frowned at him. “I most certainly can,” he argued. “The Prophet is living on my doorstep. The whole world is out there looking to report on me; I’ve seen enough.”

“You act as if they’re not trying to catch me here as well, Draco.”

“Come on, baby,” Draco pleaded, ignoring Harry altogether, and oh, he knew what that did to Harry. Harry gave him a pointed look, but Draco only smiled, pulled the covers of the bed down a bit in silent invitation for Harry to join him.

Harry shook his head fondly before turning out the light and bolting the door, deciding that everything else could wait — braving the prophet, and the rest of the world, it could wait. For now, Harry would hold Draco in his arms and cover him.

[susspence]

Song Based Writing Prompts!

Some prompts based on songs I regularly daydream about and to!

boys, bugs and men (Paris Paloma): childhood friends to lovers to enemies

Found Heaven (Conan Gray): character returning to their toxic home after growing up and escaping it

Illuminati (ONICKS): Character does everything possible to reach impossible riches but soon their past comes back to haunt them

Hawk In The Night (Madds Buckley): Character being raised to become a powerful person but instead, uses their power to destroy their mentors

SCUMBAG (NOAHFINNCE): Character getting exactly what they deserve

Tounges & Teeth (The Crane Wives): Character A has changed beyond recognition but still craves their relationship to Character B

[dont-blame-it-on-the-kids]

🎲 Linzin please!

Random song!

Probably not the first thought but I had a vision of a Pivotal Moment in Linzin 👀 after scars young Linzin anyone?

“Don’t fucking say anything.” Lin said sternly as she stood next to Tenzin in the bathroom.

“I won’t say anything.” He agreed gently as his fingers carefully worked the edges of the bandage off Lin’s face.

Lin winced but held still. This was the first time it wasn’t Katara changing the bandages and the first time Lin wanted to see the remaining damage. Three healing sessions over a month and she still had to keep it covered.

Tears filled her eyes as he gently pried the bandage off her face. She blinked and frowned as she realized her vision wasn’t improving like aunt Katara had hoped it would. Still blurry and with no peripheral vision to speak up. She frowned even deeper when she saw Tenzin’s expression at the wound.

“Don’t fucking say it.” She said sternly trying to keep from crying now.

“No I-“ tenzin sighed and she suddenly felt his hand on her jaw she flinched not expecting the contact and tenzin pulled his hand away quickly. “It’s a bit of damage.” Tenzin started again. “But you’re still so beautiful Lin.”

She swatted him away now.

“I said not to say anything!” She snapped and turned angrily to face herself in the mirror. She froze as the anger fell from her face.

The damage was extensive still and she could see the scar was already firmly in place. It was her eye that still needed to be covered while it healed. Tears fell from her eyes hot and thick as she slowly turned to Tenzin again.

“I-“ her voice broke on the word.

“I know.” Tenzin said and pulled her into his arms quickly. “Mom will fix it… she’s the best healer in the world.” He assured her. He gently cupped her uninjured cheek and kissed the edge of her mouth close to the new scars.

Lin was almost in shock again at seeing the damage, she clung to Tenzin and let him kiss her as she cried.

Tenzin gently caught her lips in a soft kiss.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “I’m here, you’re alright.” He assured her and pulled her in for another gentle kiss.

Lin leaned into him and kissed him deeper.

The scars worked against her but she let her eyes slip closed.

It only took a moment before she was lost in the taste of Tenzin on her lips and his kisses trailed down across her jaw to her neck.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Vigilante Shit

October Prompt: Vigilante Shit by Taylor Swift | Word Count: 7777 | Rating: E | CW: Unsafe Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent | Tags: Modern AU, Past Break-Up, Divorced, Angst, Exes-to-Lovers, Hopeful Ending, Famous Eddie, Corroded Coffin, Platonic Stobin: Ride or Die (Eddie Might Die If Robin Has Her Way, lol), Unsafe Sex, Barebacking, Hurt/Comfort, Love/Hate, Except It's All Love Underneath, Mr. Americana and the Heartbreak Prince

Also available right here on ao3.

they say looks can kill and I might try Taylor Swift, Vigilante Shit

Steve steps out of the taxi, and looks down, smoothing the lines of his shirt. Hoping it's not too wrinkled. He's left it unbuttoned one more button than would be considered decent, but nothing about today is going to end up decent, he's sure of it. The fabric is tight, midnight blue and clinging to his sides, his biceps, tailored to perfection. He made sure of it. When he looks good, he feels good. And today? He needs to at least feel good about how he looks. 

He stands on the sidewalk, shrugging on the leather jacket that doesn't actually belong to him. The one with the chained up broken zipper on the sleeve. The one from before. A relic of years gone by, of kids that have been dead and buried by adulthood.

He doesn't actually need it, weather-wise. But if he's digging up bones, he might as well dig deep.

And he looks good in it, without fucking question.

Tonight he isn't dressing for women, or men. He's dressing for revenge.

The event space is old, he can tell. One of those remodeled places, salvaged from the hands of time. He's never been here before, and wishes he didn't have to be at today, either. He wishes he was seven hundred miles away, at home. When the plane touched down here this morning, he felt like he was being suffocated. Like the air was thicker, like he was being stifled, just because he lives here.

Steve avoids the city like the plague. Henderson moved here a few years ago, though, and Steve would be lying if he hadn't felt betrayed. He felt like a side had been chosen, and that it wasn't his. 

Steve knows that's irrational. But he still feels that way, especially when he's alone with his thoughts. Robin has gotten sick of hearing about it. She's the only person on earth he feels comfortable letting see how much he still hurts.

How much he'll always be hurt, maybe.

Coming here today feels a little bit like torture, and opting out was definitely his first instinct. 

But here Steve is. He couldn't do that to Henderson.

Even if he lives in town. It's not like Henderson ever mentions him anymore. Dustin quickly learned that was a bridge not to cross with Steve if he wished to continue living.

So, Steve cut off his nose to spite his own face, like a fucking idiot. Now he gets no information on Eddie, no secondhand gossip from friends, no nothing that doesn't come from the gossip rags. 

Steve double-checks his reflection in the door of the brick building, fingers combing through his hair. Looks good. Like the rest of him. That much he is confident about. Everything else is the problem.

It's an old building, and when the old elevator opens, Steve looks around the big, airy ballroom. There's an open window seat, and he walks over and perches in it, waiting. The setting sun is warm on his back, and while he hasn't heard for sure, he knows in his gut that Eddie will be here. There's no way Eddie's missing Henderson's engagement party. 

Even if that means seeing Steve.

Steve had checked the tour schedule, hoping, praying he'd be halfway across the world tonight. But there was a suspicious looking break in their dates. As if this had been planned around it. 

It probably was.

But Steve can't worry about Eddie. He will, of fucking course, but it would be so much better for his own well-being if he didn't.

Eddie cut the first tie between them, but Steve is the one that burned the bridges behind him, making it permanent. If Eddie wanted to run from him, well, then he was gonna stay fucking gone. Steve wasn't interested in providing any sort of lifeline for Eddie to ever use to climb out of the hole he insisted on digging for himself.

Robin and Henderson have both said in soft, roundabout ways that Steve was kind of being a dick. Being petty, bitchy, mean. But Steve doesn't care. He got his heart broken. He lost his husband. He can be all of those things, and more. 

Steve spins the ring on his finger, the one he hasn't worn in years. The old gold band that he dug out of the back of his closet, and spent all morning polishing into a gut punch.

His motto for tonight: Don't get sad, get even.

He wishes Robin were already here, but she's never been on time a day in her life. Every flight she's ever booked has been delayed, if not outright canceled, and today was no different. Unfortunately, that means he's sitting off to the edge of the ballroom by himself, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing does.

Friends who have become closer to strangers mingle, and laugh, leaving him on fringes, alone. And Steve knows that's his fault. He cut a large swath out of his life, isolating himself. Licking his wounds in solitary confinement. Robin is his only companion, besides his misery and grief.

He needs to suck it up, go mingle, force himself to dole out apologies and be a little more active in the festivities, certain that he's been foolish. Eddie isn't coming after all.

Steve makes his way over to Dustin.

"Congrats, kiddo," Steve says, wrapping his arm around Dustin's shoulders, squeezing.

"About damn time, I thought you were gonna sulk in the corner all night," Dustin snaps, and Steve laughs. No, he's not gonna do that. He just needed a minute. And he gets that Henderson understood that. He's a good kid, a good man, now.

He keeps talking, "I thought you were gonna go on some sort of anti-marriage tirade."

No, no, Steve was wrong. He is still a little shit.

"I'm not anti-marriage," Steve says, and he isn't. Sure, his didn't work out, but he's not going around assuming that everybody else's will end up the same way.

Unless they plan on marrying Eddie. Then, that's on them. Play dumb games, win stupid prizes.

"He was supposed to come tonight," Dustin admits.

Yeah, Steve figured as much, "Sorry he let you down, kid."

Dustin looks up at him, "Sorry he let you down, too."

Yeah, well. Shit happens.

The room is sparkling with twinkling lights that look even better as the sun melts into the horizon. Tray after tray of drinks and passed hors d'oeuvres make the rounds, and everyone seems happy to see him, maybe forgiving him a little too easily for his disappearing act. 

They come see him in his window, like it's his new office. Handing him drinks, food. Doling out hugs and kisses. Stories. Sharing their lives with him.

Robin comes in earlier than he expected her, and she throws her hands in the air, announcing her arrival.

Dustin hugs her, and then she marches over to the window seat he's been holding court from.

He stands, and she steps into his arms, squeezing him tight, "Hi, dingus. Sorry I'm late."

"You're early," he says, and she's not. She's nearly an hour late. But for him, she's right on time.

Eddie didn't come. He doesn't have to say it, she knows. He feels foolish. He's wearing Eddie's leather jacket and his old wedding band, and dwelling on a past Eddie clearly doesn't give a flying fuck about.

Steve squeezes Robin back. It's been too long. Living in separate cities is for the goddamn birds. Maybe he should move closer to her. Pack up his life and just hit the road and be wherever she wants to be, always.

That sounds like the best plan for a lifetime of happiness that he's had in a goddamn long time.

"We could call the FBI. Tell them he's a drug mule. Tell them he's evading taxes."

Steve doesn't think either of those things are true.

He's about to say so when he feels the air in the room change. 

Fuck.

He drops back to the bricks, not really able to stand under these conditions.

Eddie's here, Steve can't see him yet, refuses to scour the room, looking, searching, but he knows. He always knew when Eddie manifested himself into Steve's presence. Like a magic trick Steve doesn't know the secret behind, and probably never will. 

Steve leans back, and sprawls out on the brick window sill he's been sitting in, and Robin is looking down at him wide-eyed. Because she's well aware of the only thing here that could knock his feet out from him.

She steps to the side and turns to look.

And he's determined to keep his head up. He's gonna meet this head-on, no-holds-barred. If Eddie wants to look away, wants to run like he always does, then he can be the one to do that. Again. Because Steve's got nothing to be ashamed about.

He didn't fuck up their lives. Eddie did.

Two black suits, his private security Steve's sure, flank Eddie. Like there's a threat at his friend's engagement party. Fucking ridiculous. 

Well.

Maybe there is a threat: Steve. 

At least a threat to his peace, and as if on cue Eddie stops in the middle of the room and stares. Steve stares back. Wrist resting over his own bent knee. They say looks can kill, and tonight Steve damn well might try.

Steve won't blink first, won't back down.

And eventually Eddie gives, loses, and looks away.

Steve smiles to himself, taking a sip of his drink, swirling the ice in the lowball glass, as Robin's eyebrows have permanently lodged themselves into her hairline. He makes small talk with her, when he knows she wants to say so fucking much about what just happened. There will be time for that later, time to dissect and replay, but only then does he unfold himself from the window seat, sauntering across the room, stopping to talk to his friends. His. 

Steve doesn't look his way again, but he can definitely feel the eyes boring into him as he moves around the room. Good. Let him stare. 

On the way back from the bathroom, Steve passes a little too close to the sun.

And Eddie reaches out, snagging Steve's hand in his, squeezing it hard enough that it pinches his skin between the ring he has no business wearing, but Steve doesn't react. Doesn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he can get to him in any way.

Not anymore.

He just looks at Eddie, and Eddie stares back. 

Eddie doesn't let go. Instead he shifts his hand, sliding it upwards, until he's hooked his finger through the chain on the jacket sleeve, and starts to pull Steve by it, like he's on a lead. His feet betray him, and he follows. 

So do the bodyguards.

"No, stay," Eddie says, like they're guard dogs. Maybe they are. They definitely heel to his command.

And he leads Steve out of the ballroom, down a long hallway, trying to push open door after locked door, until he finds one that gives, swinging open. It's empty, and probably used for staging or a dressing room during other events. There's a fancy couch, and the whole place is lit by the moonlight coming through the deep-set windows.

Only then does he let go. Steve feels burned.

But he doesn't react to that, instead Steve stands there, hands on his hips as Eddie lingers, several paces away, staring back. 

He didn't ask for this, for any of this.

"What the fuck do you want?" Steve snaps, and Eddie's teeth are showing as he stalks forward. Steve refuses to take a step back, refuses to flinch or lose an inch of ground to him. Eddie's not gonna steamroll him, not ever again.

"What the fuck is this?" Eddie asks, reaching out and squeezing Steve's wrist. The jacket. Then flicking Steve's finger, the ring, as it rests on his hip.

"It's a wedding ring. I know that's probably confusing for you, since you never wore one of them. It ruined your aesthetic, or whatever this is," Steve mocks, waving his hand around Eddie's whole being. All the black leather and silver jewelry that doesn't mean shit.

Eddie ignores all that, and his eyes narrow down on Steve's hand, demanding, "You marry somebody else wearing my ring?"

"Maybe I did," Steve snaps. "What's it to you?"

And Eddie loses the standoff. His hands find his hair as he roughly pulls at it, spinning in a circle.

Steve smirks. 

"You want it back? Here. Take it," Steve spits out, angry, so fucking pissed off for the past decade or more, pulling the ring off his finger and throwing it. Listening as it hits the wall across the room, and then clatters across the hardwood flooring. 

He shrugs out of the jacket and throws it next. Hitting Eddie square in the chest.

The sound Eddie makes is distraught, feral, and if Steve didn't know he's only bullshit and bluster, he'd probably be scared.

But he's not scared of Eddie Munson. At least not in the way the rest of the world is, hoodwinked by the reputation he built with his carefully cultured public image that is just lie after lie.

Steve wasn't sure what would happen next, but Eddie on his hands and knees, patting around in the dark, his phone flashlight darting around trying to catch the glimmer of metal, wasn't what Steve expected.

"Why fucking bother?" Steve asks as he crosses his arms over his chest. Because honestly? He doesn't need it. He made his point. He cut him. He won this round. He needs to leave before he gets left. Again.

And Eddie didn't want him to have it back then, so why waste time digging up old bones? Let sleeping dogs lie. 

"Because," Eddie grits out.

"Just let it go, Eddie. Just like you let me go," Steve snaps, and Eddie's head whips up, the flashlight suddenly blinding Steve.

Steve shields his eyes, "Put that down, asshole."

"Then don't fucking say that," Eddie snaps.

"Like it's not true?"

It is true, and Eddie can't even begin to deny it. He fucking ran, two years into their marriage. Two years that they spent more nights apart than they did together. Two years where they were too young. Too different. At least that's what everyone else said when the dust settled. Like, it was just a mistake anyone could have seen coming.

Like, two years had been a good run, but that this had always been the expected end result.

Steve hadn't expected it. 

That didn't matter, though. They divorced, long-distance, papers delivered and signed through lawyers. All contact completely severed. And then they both spent more than a decade being extra careful to not wind up in the same region, let alone the same building, or room.

Now, here they are. Eddie on his hands and knees rooting around for ancient history, and Steve wishing he could be swallowed up by the floor under his feet just to be out of here. Away. Anywhere else.

It's bullshit. All of it.

Eddie finds it with a huffed laugh, and Steve isn't sure what happens next. Does Eddie pocket it? Keep it? 

No, he stands, and stalks over to Steve, "You wanna wear it? You're gonna wear it."

And he forces it back onto Steve's hand, a perversion of the first time he did it. It catches on his knuckle, and hurts as Eddie forces it on, but Steve watches it happen, can't look away. 

Then, Eddie's even further in his personal space, mouth closing over Steve's, hand sliding into Steve's hair, pulling. Steve kisses him back, hands digging into his back, holding on tight to everything he's already lost.

Steve's whole fucking body betrays him. He moans in Eddie's mouth, dick rushing towards hard, as Eddie leans further into him.

Learning all Steve's secrets from his time away.

Steve doesn't want Eddie to know anything about him.

He also wants him to know everything.

It's infuriating.

Even more so when Eddie spins him around, shoving him forwards, making Steve catch himself on the back of the couch.

Eddie puts his hand in the middle of Steve's back, and presses downwards, hard. Bending him over the back side of the vintage couch. Steve goes, willingly. The ornate wood trim digging into his belly. Eddie's hand rubs up and down his sides, hands feeling how his shirt is hugging his skin, and Steve knew it was a good choice. But he doesn't have time to gloat before Eddie's fingers slide around, brushing Steve's stomach, slowly unbuttoning every button of his shirt. Roughly pulling it from his arms, catching on his wrists before being tugged loose, then moving on to unhooking his belt, unbuttoning his jeans, before yanking them down his thighs.

Steve digs the toe of his boot into the hardwood floor, trying to get some leverage that he knows he'll need. It's gonna be rough, and fast, and hard. Desperate. 

Overdue.

Maybe a little bit mean. Steve's not sure what kind of headspace Eddie's in. Hadn't had the chance to really gauge him, before he was drug away into the darkness to fight and fuck about unfinished business.

All their business is unfinished.

Eddie's pressed flush to his back, his palm pressing into the center of Steve's chest, his fingers moving through his chest hair. His cock, hard through his jeans, pressing into Steve's ass. A promise, or a threat.

Either, both, maybe. And then Eddie makes good on it. Steve hears him tearing open foil. Then he feels the cool liquid running down his crack. He tries not to jump, startle. Of course Eddie's carrying travel packets of lube. He shouldn't have assumed anything else.

Then there are slick fingers, one, then two, pressing at him, in him. Sliding deep, working to push all his buttons, proving Eddie hasn't forgotten a goddamn thing. One hand working fingers inside him, the other palming his balls before reaching down to tug on his cock. Just like Steve always liked. But Steve won't make any noise. Won't give Eddie the satisfaction. But Steve's breathing deep and hard, panting as he pushes back against Eddie's hand. Demanding more.

Eddie listens for once, too fast, too soon, and Eddie's breaching him. Steve wanted to draw this out. But that cock that Steve has loved, missed, needed is working him open, fast and rough. It's not enough, it's too much. All at once.

Steve loses, can't bite it back any longer, and Steve huffs out a whine of a breath as Eddie slams into him. He hasn't felt this in years. It's exactly the same, but totally different, too. It's like being fucked by a complete stranger.

It's also like coming home.

He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to keep quiet. The last thing he wants is any of their friends to see him like this. To know that he allowed himself to be bent over this easily. That all he had to do was spend fifteen minutes alone with Eddie before he allowed his resolve to crumble to dust, desperate for it, the second Eddie laid hands on him.

Eddie's not wearing a condom, Steve can feel the difference, can feel the ease of the slide in a way that he hasn't since Eddie cut and ran. Steve knows he should be mad, furious that Eddie thinks he still has that right. That he thinks his blanket permission from a decade ago overrides a goddamn divorce. But Steve's not mad. And he hates that he's not mad. Resents that he gets off on the fact that it's still only Eddie that has been invited inside him, and has been allowed to leave his mark deep, in more ways than one.

"Fuck you, Harrington," Eddie says, and Steve claws at the fabric of the couch, blunt fingernails scraping against the rough texture of it. 

"You already are, asshole," Steve says back.

Eddie laughs. It sounds more delighted than deranged, and if Steve keeps his eyes shut, he can pretend this was another lifetime ago. 

It's easy to go along for the ride, just allowing himself to feel what he hasn't in so many years. It's not like he's been celibate, or alone, but he has been without this. Without Eddie, and having a taste of it again might just wreck him.

There are lips against his back, and a cock splitting him wide. In his mind he's twenty-two and in love. Really in love. 

When he opens them again, he's thirty-four, and bitter. Broken.

Angry. 

So goddamn angry that his life, their life, turned out to be bullshit.

And suddenly the tears burn his eyes. Fuck. He's gonna cry. He reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, as if he can stave it off with that alone. As if he can just will it away, by wanting it bad enough. But it's not working. He's gonna do the very last thing he ever wanted to have happen in Eddie's presence ever again. When he can't hold it back a second longer, he hitches in a ragged breath, and Eddie stutters, stilling all momentum, immediately.

It nearly gives Steve whiplash, going from a hundred to zero, just like that.

Which is fitting. That's how their whole relationship turned out. From hot and heavy, to distant strangers. Why would this be any goddamn different?

"Steve?" Eddie asks, a warm palm against his back. Rubbing soft, soothing circles, his guitar calluses scratching gently. "Sweetheart?"

That's the last straw, it's too familiar, too much, and he curls over the back of the couch as far as he can as Eddie pulls out, leaving him empty and more bereft than he already was. Steve tries to reach backwards, tries to lure him back. Back inside, back to Steve. Just back, in any way he can get him.

It doesn't happen, of course, and Eddie tries to manhandle Steve into turning around to face him. Steve would rather do anything else, so he won't allow himself to be turned because Steve's still bigger, always has been bigger and stronger, and Eddie's hands disappear before reappearing as he moves around the couch to kneel on the cushion next to where Steve is actively wishing to be swallowed whole.

"Steve," Eddie says, the voice reedy and scared, hands brushing down Steve's back, then moving through Steve's hanging hair, trying to find his face. "Did I hurt you? Did you…" Eddie trails off, thumb on Steve's cheek, "Did you not want that? Did I - did I read you wrong?"

Steve shakes his head. He's hurt, of course he is, just not in the way Eddie means. Of course he wanted this. He just can't. Not with Eddie. It's too hard.

Even if that's all he wants.

He looks down at the cushions below, he sees Eddie's bare thigh, tattoos unfamiliar, and his cock, very familiar, scared into softness. Nestled there in his open fly. Steve wonders if he smells the same. Wants to bury his face in Eddie's crotch and breathe deep.

What an unhinged thing to want, he thinks. But Steve just wants to go home, go back in time.

Eddie's still gorgeous. Always has been, though, and Steve snakes out a hand, curling it around Eddie's forearm.

Asking him not to go.

Asking him to stay this time.

"Sweetheart. Look at me, or I'm getting Robin," Eddie says, and Steve hiccups a laugh as Eddie plays with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

He's not his sweetheart, not any longer, he knows that all too well, but hearing that come out of his lips makes something bloom in his chest. An unfurling longing. Nostalgia for a time he'll never be able to return to, as long as he lives. 

It's already gone. They've already grown up, distant from each other.

And Steve raises his head enough to meet Eddie's eyes.

"She'd kill you," Steve says, trying to blink the wetness from his lashes.

"I'd let her," Eddie answers.

Steve misses him. He's right here, looking right at him, but Steve misses him something fierce.

"Are you okay? What's going on?" Eddie asks, scooting closer, his hand never leaving Steve's neck. Fingers brushing against his skin, keeping contact, soothing him in a way only he ever could.

Steve laughs, bordering on unhinged.

"Vigilante shit," Steve breathes out, and it's like he's ran a marathon, maybe an ultra.

And Eddie laughs, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to Steve's temple.

Steve leans into him. 

"Well, that's fair, sweetheart," Eddie says, "I'll give you that. I deserve it. But are you okay?"

"I'm okay," Steve reassures. As okay as he'll ever be, anyway, here surrounded by the smoldering embers of the life he watched burn to the ground.

Eddie rotates until he's laying down on the couch, and opens his arms for Steve. Steve takes the offer, sliding over the back of the couch, crawling on top of Eddie. Not very gracefully since his pants are still trapped around his thighs, boots on his feet. 

"Here, let me help," Eddie says, trying to maneuver him to sitting. Steve allows it.

And Eddie slides off the couch, kneeling at Steve's feet. Eddie looks at how Steve has them laced so they just slip on and off, and it's an old Eddie trick. Steve knows it, Eddie knows it.

"Well, this is sexy," Eddie says as he gently pulls the first one off his foot, then the second. And Steve laughs. Eddie then pulls his jeans down, tossing them aside, "Can you breathe now?"

Steve nods.

Undressed, and a little more unburdened, Steve watches as Eddie sheds his own pants, and then gets back on the couch, laying back against the cushions, an invitation.

Steve takes it.

He's pretty sure their naked asses aren't supposed to be on this antique piece of furniture, but he'd like to see anyone tell Eddie Munson no. It's impossible, and a waste of breath. Always has been.

So, they lay together, Eddie's hand stroking up and down his back, fingers against his spine. Whispering words that Steve's waited a decade to hear. And Steve listens, feeling the rumble of Eddie's chest, the timbre of his voice that is somehow even deeper than it was at twenty-three. They kiss and grind soft cocks together until they aren't soft anymore. They roll together until Steve slides back down on Eddie's cock, ready to finish what they started. 

It's gentler now, and Steve's pretty sure that might make this worse, after. Hate sex, angry fucking to get each other out of their systems, he thinks he could get over. That he could take at face value.

But this?

This is too soft. Too loving.

And that's gonna destroy him when it's over.

Eddie was, is, will always be, the greatest thing he's ever lost. Steve swears he only blinked, but in between that breath and the next, Eddie had slipped through his fingers.

But he wouldn't give this up. He never wanted to give Eddie up. Not then, not now, and that's really fucking hard to wrap his head around. That it ended against his will. That the thing he was sure was forever, crashed and burned so fucking quickly, completely out of his control. 

He couldn't save them from themselves. He couldn't save them from the self-destructive streak Eddie just couldn't shake.

He couldn't stop Eddie from running.

Distance, blossoming fame, and the road just being more of an obstacle than they would have ever imagined when they stood up and said I do, promising forever. 

Well, forever was pretty fucking short, Steve guesses.

He rocks on Eddie's cock, fucking himself as Eddie holds his hips in his hands. 

"That's it, sweetheart," Eddie encourages, and Steve's setting the rhythm now. The pace, the intensity, so he can't even blame Eddie for this slow down. For this softness.

This is all on him. 

But Eddie still fits in him like he was made to be there. Of course, Steve assumes Eddie's cock has been in lots of places since they buckled and folded. So, yeah, that probably means a doctor's visit, and a nerve wracking wait for test results will be in his future for being impulsive and foolish.

At the same time, he still trusts Eddie. Maybe he shouldn't. It makes no sense to, for fuck's sake. Eddie broke his heart, abandoned him like he meant nothing. But for some reason he trusts that Eddie would have never slid into him, warm and bare and familiar, if there was a cause for concern. 

He's always lost his fucking mind when he came to Eddie. That not changing today is no fucking surprise, not really.

Steve angles himself so Eddie's bumping his prostate, over and over, and it's just too much, too good, and Steve tenses, coming all over Eddie's belly. But he keeps grinding down on Eddie's cock, determined to get him over the edge, too.

Eddie groans, hand squeezing Steve's hip, "I'm gonna come."

"Do it," Steve breathes out, and Eddie does. Shoving up into him as far, and as hard as he can, and Steve tilts his head back, enjoying that this moment has happened for them, one more time.

He collapses onto Eddie's chest, laughing the way he always has after good sex, Eddie's softening cock still inside him, and Steve's not about to pull away yet.

The door opens, and Steve pops up to look to see who has found them.

Robin. 

"Goddamnit, dingus," she says from the doorway. He's aware from her angle she can see he's shirtless and debauched. She can't know that Eddie's still in him, soft, but unwilling to extract himself.

"I take it that asshole ex of yours is under you?"

"Hi, Robbie," Eddie says, still unseen by her, from his place on the couch under Steve.

She doesn't respond, ignoring Eddie. Which is to be expected, Steve supposes.

"Get cleaned up. Dustin's realized you're both missing."

Steve watches as Eddie stretches his arm backwards into her view, making the okay sign and she slams the door in response. 

They both laugh, and Steve lays back down on Eddie's bare chest, kissing him again. And again.

"She hates me now," Eddie says, when they break apart.

"With the fire of a thousand suns, yes," Steve answers, tucking his face into Eddie's neck. Robin and Eddie used to be friends, best friends, but when Eddie cut and ran, Robin wrote him off swiftly, with finality, and without remorse. Steve appreciated the loyalty. And he's gonna need it, tomorrow. Because he knows this was just one night, one mistake, but he's gonna milk it for all that it's worth since he's already in for a penny.

"We really have to make an appearance," Eddie says, and Steve whines at the idea. But he lifts up, Eddie's cock sliding out of him for the last time. At least he knows this time. At least he can brace for the impact.

But Eddie has other ideas.

"We'll be seen, we'll congratulate the kid, and then I'll take you back to bed, and show you how much I've missed you."

Steve nods. Yes. That. All of that, please. 

If he only gets one more night, he wants to draw out this long overdue goodbye as much as possible.

"We hadn't even had dinner," Dustin admonishes, shoving Steve's shoulder. Eddie puts a hand between them, like this might escalate.

"That's my bad, kid," Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face.

Henderson is more forgiving. He loves them both. But Robin's glaring daggers through Eddie's back. There's no way he doesn't feel it. Steve can feel it, and it isn't even directed at him.

The party is winding down, and at the first opportunity, Eddie holds out the old leather jacket, helping it up and over Steve's shoulders.

"Steve," Robin says, a warning, and he steps away from Eddie, leaning down, hugging her.

"Let me say goodbye right this time," he pleads and she nods against his cheek.

She hates this, Steve knows she does, but she lets him go. She'll let him make this mistake. Will let him poke at this old, never-healed, wound.

Eddie leads him out the front of the venue. A crowd has gathered. Word must have spread that Eddie Munson was in the building, and now flashbulbs are blinding Steve, and Steve's instinct is to let go. Drop Eddie's hand and run. Hide, get out of sight. But Eddie doesn't let go of his hand. Even as he's guiding them towards the waiting black SUV. 

One of the security guys reaches for the door handle, and Steve sees Eddie rest his hand on his shoulder. The guy immediately backs off, and Eddie opens it for Steve himself. Standing there, looking grown up, and then suddenly his arm pops out, and he dips into a half-bow.

Steve laughs, loud and happy. He's still Eddie. 

He wishes he had a picture. Wants to replay that memory in his mind forever, and he realizes suddenly that he probably can. That in the next ten minutes the entire walk from the building to the car will be uploaded from at least a dozen angles.

There's gonna be story after story of Eddie Munson entering the building alone and re-emerging four hours later with his ex-husband on his arm.

The divider in the car goes up, and they can't keep their hands off of each other.

Steve shifts on the leather. 

"What's wrong?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look in his eyes.

It's only Eddie, so he tells the truth, "I'm leaking."

And Eddie grins, wolfish and wild, "Well. I could take care of that."

The pulse of want goes through Steve. It's filthy and is he really gonna let Eddie eat his ass in a moving car, a driver just on the other side of the barrier?

Yeah, yeah he is.

He moves to his belt, but Eddie's fingers replace his own, "Let me, sweetheart."

And at this point, Steve thinks he'll let Eddie do anything he wants.

The pictures from outside Eddie's building are sure to be obscene. Eddie, mouth red and lips shiny, Steve's hair in utter disarray. The crowd is rowdy, extra loud and demanding, and Eddie seems to be in no hurry. He's smiling, and looking around, as if this is completely normal. 

As if he always hooks up with his ex-husband, rims him in the car, and the waves to the fans, after. He looks happy, thrilled even, instead of annoyed to be caught in the public eye.

Maybe it is normal for him, but it's definitely not for Steve. This was never his life, not even when they were married and Eddie's star continued to rise. Maybe, especially not then. Eddie wanted his private life to be private and that meant Steve was left at home, out of sight. 

Not tonight.

Tonight it's obvious what they've been doing during the car ride. The press will have a field day building a timeline with the pictures and videos.

Eddie holds Steve's hand, tight and protective, leading the charge, but he uses the other to wave. To stop and sign an album. A poster. All while his security tries to wrangle him inside.

"This is Steve," he tells a fan, a camera shoved in his face.

Steve tries to put on a pageant smile, and is certain he's failed. This is fucking bizarre. Has Eddie really changed this much? Then they're moving again, finally making their way towards the door.

"Thank you," Eddie says, looking right at the man holding open the door.

"Mr. Munson," the doorman says, and Eddie shakes his hand, and Steve really thinks the guy wouldn't have if he knew where Eddie's hands have been recently. 

They're taken to a private elevator, and when it opens, it's in the middle of a huge penthouse apartment. 

Which is pretty amazing. The only thing fucking up the view is Gareth on the couch, in his underwear. He's holding a bowl of cereal under his chin, and he accidentally tips it on himself.

"Sorry," Eddie says, "I wasn't expecting to bring home company."

"Oh, that's okay," Gareth answers with a smirk.

"I wasn't talking to you," Eddie laughs, and Gareth grins. "If you got cereal on that couch, clean it up. I'm not smelling sour milk for the next decade every time I sit down."

"Yeah, yeah," Gareth says. 

Then he looks right at Steve.

"Steven," Gareth greets, and Steve gives him a little wave. He's really grown up since Steve saw him last.

Eddie puts his hand on the small of Steve's back, "My bedroom is back here."

It looks like his closet exploded, a familiar mess. Eddie starts picking up clothes off the bed.

"Sorry, I had trouble deciding what to wear tonight," Eddie says, several pairs of black jeans that look identical to Steve slung over his arm. 

His room has a hell of a view. There are floor to ceiling windows, and Steve stands there and looks over the city. Eddie's done well for himself. But Steve knew that, never doubted that he would, but it's just something else to see the reality of that with his own eyes.

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve's middle, hugging him from behind, his chin hooked over Steve's shoulder.

Steve closes his eyes and just leans into his touch.

Eddie's hands are all over him. Rough calluses touching, stroking, remapping his skin. Seemingly marking the changes. Steve's face down on the softest, worn-in sheets he's ever felt. They smell like Eddie. They feel like home. 

They aren't fancy, no satin or showy black here, just comfortable gray cotton. The real Eddie, not the persona.

The lights of the city are casting the room in shadow, but Steve doesn't need to see Eddie. He can feel him. 

Eddie is rocking into him, slow and steady. There's no hurry, no racing towards the finish line.

Because this is goodbye, and neither of them are quite ready to let go. Not yet.

When Steve wakes up, it's dark in the room, and Eddie is dead to the world, his hair is fanned out across the pillow. As much as Steve wants to roll over, curl into Eddie's body and go back to sleep, he's aware it's time to go. He doesn't want to do it in the morning when it's awkward and sad. The harsh light of day ruining this. Eddie had shown him how much he'd missed him, as promised, and Steve's gonna carry that with him, feel it for days. 

This is a better ending than they got last time.

He dresses quietly, and Steve's carrying his boots out of Eddie's bedroom, when another door in the hallway cracks open.

"Oh, hell no," is the pronouncement, and Steve turns and looks. Gareth.

"Yeah, well, I love you, too, Gareth," Steve says, as he keeps walking. He doesn't need any lip from this kid. Never has, never will.

But then he's jostled as Gareth forces his way in front of Steve, blocking his path out of the hallway. Standing in front of him, not allowing him to just sneak away in peace. Does there really need to be salt rubbed into the gaping wound? He's going. Maybe he fucked up. Maybe they both did. But it was one night. Closure. Ripping open old wounds. Whatever you want to call it.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Gareth hisses, and Steve just glares at him. 

"Back to my own hotel, back to my own life. What the fuck is it to you?"

And Gareth grabs Steve's boots, yanking them from his hand, one landing with a thunk against the plush carpet. Then he kicks his foot out, banging it against the door they're stopped in front of, like a crazy person.

"What the fuck is your problem, dude?" Steve snaps, and the second door opens. Goodie, then Jeff, standing in the doorway. Why are they all fucking here? Don't they see enough of each other on the goddamn road? Steve tilts his head back, annoyed, "Great. Just great."

"Steve?" Jeff asks. Like he might be someone else.

"Don't you run away from him again!" Gareth hisses, and Steve feels insane. In what universe did Steve ever run from Eddie? 

"What the fuck? Run? Me? I'm the one that ran? I think you've rewritten history there, kid," Steve says, squatting down to pick up his fallen boot.

And Gareth shoves his shoulders, knocking him off-balance and onto his ass. 

Oh, Steve's gonna kill him.

But Eddie gets there first.

"What in the actual fuck?!" Eddie screams, getting in between Gareth and Steve as Steve puts on the one boot he has control over.

Eddie attempts to wrestle the other away from Gareth, bullying him around the hall.

"I was helping you!" Gareth yells, ducking under Eddie's arm, darting to the side, but that allows Goodie to easily snag the boot being held hostage during the evasive maneuver. He turns it over to Jeff, who hands it down to Steve, waiting for him to get it pulled on, and then helps him to his feet.

Ushering him past Eddie roughhousing Gareth against the wall, making him squawk and squall. Not a thing has changed. It'd be funny if it wasn't so ridiculous.

Jeff holds his arm out behind Steve, a protective gesture, and presses the down button for him.

Steve steps in when the door opens, sees Jeff pressing the intercom on the wall, and then the doors close. The last thing he hears before he descends is a hand slapping against the doors, and Eddie's muffled, "No!"

When Steve steps out of the private elevator, the same doorman from earlier is waiting and steps forward.

"Mr. Harrington, this way," he states, and hovers a hand behind his back, just like Jeff had, like Jeff must be so used to this, that now he was doing it himself. He hears the doorman radio for a car to be sent to the escape hatch and Steve thinks that sounds a bit dramatic, but smiles to himself.

So, there's a back entrance they use, but Eddie decided to have them dropped off out front. He wanted them to be seen, and Steve doesn't try to read into that. Tries not to interpret it as a hard launch, as he's led down a long hallway, far away from the front of the building. 

The doorman holds open a door that leads to a flight of stairs that go down, down, down. Steve smiles at him, even if he's a little embarrassed to be slinking off underground in the middle of the night. Maybe the doorman is used to it. Maybe this is part of his regular job, ushering out Eddie's conquests. 

"Steve, wait!" he hears, as Eddie is rushing down the hallway toward them.

"Mr. Harrington," the doorman says, giving him a choice. He surely works for Eddie, especially if he knows who Steve is without having ever met him before, but he's clearly giving Steve an out. 

"It's okay," Steve says, and the doorman takes a step back, as they both watch Eddie run down towards them only in his jeans, barefoot.

The doorman lets Eddie and Steve step into the stairwell, and then closes the door to the hallway, giving them some privacy. Eddie nods towards another door, and then taps his watch against the plate on the wall, lighting it up green, unlocking it. Once he opens it, it's a small balcony. With some sort of dark screen that Steve assumes only works one way. They can see out, but the world can't see in. Eddie's sure living a fancy life.

The fresh, fall air feels nice against his face, and Steve closes his eyes. Eddie pats his pockets, finds what he's looking for, and then lights a cigarette. When it's offered up, Steve takes it. At least on this side of the building, the street is blissfully empty. The crowd from earlier, totally gone. 

It feels normal, and the sounds of the city hum with life down below.

"Don't go, or at least let me walk you out," Eddie says, hand on Steve's forearm, and he keeps talking, "Are you okay?"

Steve laughs, "Just plotting Gareth's demise."

"I'll help," Eddie says, a small grin on his face. Then he looks serious, "He shouldn't have shoved you."

"I just didn't have my center of balance, and he took advantage like a little shithead."

"Still," Eddie says.

Steve's not mad. Trying to be forced to stay is way better than being encouraged to leave.

"It's fine. He just didn't want me to run again," Steve says, raising an eyebrow, and he smiles when Eddie cackles. "You been telling stories?"

"No. Well, of course, but not about that. He knows what really happened. He's just-"

"Your Robin," Steve fills in.

"Yeah. How is Robbie? We didn't really get a chance to catch up."

Steve laughs, Robin would have eviscerated him had he tried.

"Good, great. Happy. Well, probably not tonight. She doesn't want to clean up any more messes you and I make with each other. But good, otherwise."

Eddie just stares at Steve, eyes unwavering.

"What?" Steve finally asks.

"What if we don't make any more messes?" Eddie asks, big, brown eyes looking into Steve as if he can see his soul if he stares hard enough.

"Eddie," Steve says.

"Seriously. What if we do it right this time?"

"Are you not still on the road?" Steve asks, because he knows the answer to that, and Eddie's a lot more famous than he was the last time he thought he needed to leave Steve in the dust.

"Yeah, but not in the same way. I'm older. Wiser."

"You sure about that?" Steve teases.

"Let a guy dream," Eddie banters back, then adds, "Let a guy make up for his sins."

"Well, you do have plenty of those," Steve teases.

"I do," Eddie admits, then reaches out to squeeze Steve's arms, "But I'm ready. For you. For this," he says, hand sliding down to brush against Steve's wedding band. "How 'bout it?"

Like it's that easy. Like there won't be conversations to have, and the same old problems to tackle. Like there isn't deep-seated hurt to smooth over, overcome.

But none of that matters. Not really. 

Because, yeah. Steve's ready for it, too. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

Notes: If you're familiar with the song by Taylor Swift, you'll have recognized where several of the lyrics popped in. (And other songs from Taylor's discography as well.) I love these song challenges, since music inspires me to write things SO often.

This got way longer than I intended. I was gonna write it jointly for this and "wrath" over at @corrodedcoffinfest, but 1313 words went by way too fast, haha. 🤣

[writingpencil]

Writing Song Lyrics Because I'm Hiding in the Bathroom

something here is rotten

Something isn't quite fine

I wanna wait 100 years

To get to heaven on time

So here I sing to you

All my sucky little blues

I wonder if the gods would laugh

Or sing right along too

Id think they'll pretend

That everything is fine

Give me a bowl of turpentine

To see if I can fly

But part of me wonders

They would ever know

What part of me is real

And which part is left at home

So I

Hereby

Declare all my sins

To realize

All the judges are great liars

And the choir is the jury

Hiding in the bathroom

Gives me a sense of glory

Cause at least if I wait a 100 years

I can get into heaven

And wear the mask of a 100 good men

All the jury and mice and sin

maybe they'd let me go

If I show what I don't know

I sing the blues

Laugh at everything I did wrong

Let them judge me

So I can judge myself

Maybe then I'll be fine

Maybe then I won't know

What it's like to cry

or be lost without hope

For once I wanna be right

Know that I'm as bad as I feel

So I can be right and not feel wrong

Or think like them all

And I sang out every day

While my throat was filled with haze

Cause the only good part of me

Is you and what you think of me too

So let me hide

And let me cry

I got a 100 years to wait

To end up at those pearly gates

but when I get there it's a shitshow

The gods are dead

It's always been that way so...

Saint Michael would laugh at me

Make me drink some turpentine

While all the angels mocked me

Cause they see what's deep inside

They find a little girl loving blue

Cause pink was wrong

Oh who knew

But they're gentle cause they're angels

And have no choice

Sometimes I wish I was an angel too

Cause angels don't hide in bathrooms

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1298

Whumptober #30: "It's okay, just to say, I'm not okay."

Song: I'm Not Okay - Chris Catalyst

Your caretaker watches as the whumpee tears themselves apart, and waits for them to accept help.

'Heartache hiding in plain sight' - Your whumpee is no good at hiding their emotions. When they think no-one is looking they let their mask fall, but the caretaker is always there to see the distant look in their eyes.

'If you’re reeling off the rails.' - The whumpee partakes in self-destructive activities. Maybe it's obvious, maybe it's not, either way it has a blatant affect on their relationships and body.

'There's no burden to explain' - The caretaker wants to scream this at the whumpee. They want to grab them by the shoulders and tell them that it's alright - please, you're allowed to confide in me.

'We can sit and talk all night' - When your whumpee finally breaks, your caretaker knows it wont be a simple chat over dinner. It's going to be messy and emotional and at an inconvenient time. But the whumpees need for help overrides the discomfort of staying up late. The caretaker vows to listen for as long as they need, because the whumpee was beginning to severely worry them.

'My home is your home, 'Cause sometimes I, Feel like you, too' - Perhaps the caretaker had gone through a similar situation - maybe they can sympathise with the whumpee. They've said time and time again that their home is the whumpees home (maybe they share the house), but the whumpee insists that they're okay - that they don't want to get in their way.

'I can make the tea and I can make the time' - If the whumpee 'doesn't have the time', then the caretaker was going to physically make it, even if they have to rearrange the whumpees calendar to get them so slow down.

'So if your conscious needs a clean. Maybe a dose of dopamine Loosen ligatures and wrap yourself in me' - The caretaker sees how the whumpee shy's from touch, and almost makes it their mission to give the person a hug - a meaningful hug that tells them that the whumpee is not at fault for feeling the way they do/reacting the way they have. Their actions are forgivable - everyone processes their experiences differently.

'Any day, any time I'm not a judge, there isn't a crime It's okay, just to say I'm not okay' - Eventually the whumpee does come knocking. They're sheepish and ashamed but trembling like a leaf. "I'm sorry." They say, crying, followed by "I'm not okay."

[pray4saint]

bad idea! — girl in red | reader wakes up in [cc]'s bed, again, and doesn't understand why they keep coming back here, why they keep getting high or drunk and call [cc]

like real people do — hozier | one kiss reader has shared publicly with [cc] and five kisses they've shared alone

let's fall in love for the night — finneas | reader goes on a late night drive with [cc], who also happens to be their best friend, and their first kiss, but they don't know that [cc] is in love with them 'don't waste your eyes on jealous guys fuck that noise' 'i know better than to call you mine'

watch you sleep. — girl in red | [cc] wakes up early and stays in bed, thinking about and admiring reader, who's sleeping right next to them bc they could stay there forever, at least until reader wakes up

like a tattoo — sade | reader and [cc] are in a situationship and [cc] wants to open up to reader, but their past feels so dark to themselves

gorgeous — taylor swift | reader joins in on a youtube project where they meet [cc], and he's just so goddamn gorgeous but still somehow ends up with his number, still, reader can't help but stare at him every time they see him

escapism. — raye, 070 shake | reader meets [cc] at a bar, post-breakup with the intent of a rebound, but ends up with a one night therapist, who turns into a friend, and eventually their next love

wish you were sober — conan gray | reader, in love with [cc], picks him up from yet another drunk bout and again, [cc] flirts and says all these words that reader is sure he doesn't mean, especially the kiss he gives them 'real sweet but i wish you were sober'

crush culture — conan gray | reader's sworn off dating for a 6 months after a bad breakup, but then there's [cc] and reader just refuses to admit that maybe, just maybe, they have a big fat huge crush on him bc they want so badly to get through the 6 months, although [cc] flirting doesn't help at all 'oh no, don't look in their eyes, 'cause that's how they get you, kiss you then forget you'

only love can hurt like this — paloma faith | reader and [cc] are on a break after a horrible fight, and both expect it to end afterwards, but neither reader nor [cc] expected to be in so much pain without the other, missing them in bed and looking for them everywhere they go, and realising they need each other bc what they have is real, and it's a forever kind of love

sparks — coldplay | reader misses their long-distance boyfriend [cc] horribly, even when they call every day and text as often as possible

everybody talks — neon trees | [cc] has been getting teased by his friends for being so head over heels for reader and not confessing, so he decides to just do it, asking reader if they can talk for a moment outside during a group hangout and kisses them, not realising that everyone is watching from inside, whispering and giggling bc it took them long enough 'and then she made my lips hurt'

jessie's girl — rick springfield | [cc1] and reader are in a happy, long-term relationship, and they've talked about having a shared crush on [cc2] but never doing anything about it, meanwhile [cc2] is pining away after both reader and [cc1], at least until one night when [cc1] & reader invite [cc2] to come snuggle with them during a movie 'she's watchin' him with those eyes'

my boo — usher, alicia keys | reader and [cc1] are ex-high school sweethearts who stayed friends, and have barely dated anyone else bc they know that the other is the only one for them, then, at a high school reunion, they're voted best couple and end up kissing to appease the crowd, + [cc2] who went to high school with them and recorded that whole section, including the kiss

all mine — brent faiyez | five times [cc] made sure reader and others knew who they belonged to and one time reader made sure [cc] and others knew who he belonged to

photograph — ed sheeran | a few nights before the wedding, reader and [cc] go through their polaroids and digital pictures together, reflecting on the memories on they have and thinking about all the memories they'll keep making after they tie the knot + reader and [cc] pick polaroids to keep in their wallets 'we keep this love in a photograph'

devil doesn't bargain — alec benjamin | reader feels pressured by their family to attend a family event but they know that they'll be ganged up on for their choices in life and [cc] helps them through it, promising reader that together, they'll have a different family dynamic 'he'll only break your heart again' 'he isn't gonna change'

pretend lovers — montell fish | reader and [cc] are best friends, and basically dating, but [cc] is slowly falling in love

somewhere only we know — keane | reader runs off during a big argument with a friend and only [cc] knows where to find them

style — taylor swift | reader and [cc] are together, and so loved by the world that they notice that they're labelled 'style coded' by a lot of their fanbase

never really over — katy perry | reader keeps asking [cc] to come over and it always ends in them sleeping together, and feelings that neither reader or [cc] are prepared for

boyfriend — dove cameron | after reader's [bf] asks for an open relationship and reader accepts due to pressure, and then complains to [cc] about how they feel bad for the next person [bf] tries to make cum bc [bf] fails to do it for them and [cc] offers to help out

my type — saweetie | [cc] overhears reader talking about how he's exactly their type to their friends at a party, and [cc] confronts them about it [might end in smut]

runaway baby — bruno mars + lost my mind — finneas | reader hears of [cc], an absolute fuckboy a man, and doesn't care, so when he tells reader to find someone good for them and they tell him no, he assumes it's gonna be a repeat of every other person, but reader doesn't fall for the charm, doesn't get hooked, and instead falls for the man behind the facade, and gets him hooked in the process

someone new — hozier + dress — taylor swift | reader meets [cc1] and immediately starts falling, but then is introduced to [cc2] and starts falling for him too, reader isn't easy, but by god it's hard to ignore one or the other, especially when it seems almost like they know reader liked them both

[dclovesdanny]

Dcxdp

Song: The only exception by Paramore and Anger Management (My own)

Jazz spent her whole life trying to take care of her brother. She knew her parents weren’t going to be there, and she was determined to be there for Danny. So, when she was off to college, she had no idea what to do with herself outside of class. She made a few friends, but pushed away close relationships. She wasn’t going to let anyone else too close.

Then, she met Jason Todd, another member of her Classic Literature class, and she knew she was in trouble.

Jason Todd was everything she had ever wanted in a partner. He was kind, thoughtful, and despite his bad boy mystique, he was a total nerd. He loved discussing things with her, and he took her to dinner so many times, yet he never diminished her accomplishments. He didn’t care she was the Fenton’s daughter, or Danny’s sister, or the smart one. To him, she was just Jazz.

Slowly against her will, she started falling for him. Thrown in turmoil about her emotions, she tried to push them down, but eventually one day during a study session(date), she kissed him.

She tensed after she realized. So scared he would push her away. Then, his hand met her face. He cupped her cheek gently, and pulled her in.

Maybe, just once, she could allow herself to believe in love.