#Steve x dj

[astro-tag-9]

me: sagittarius sun, virgo moon, taurus rising, aquarius mars them: leo sun, sagittarius moon, pisces rising, cancer mars

💓DJ and Steve💓

[ramp-it-up]

Greatest

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Summary: Steve tells you the truth.

This is the next part in the Greatest series.

A/N: This is not as kinky as I promised. I had to cut this in two because I'm in the mood for love, so this has plot with the porn. Hope you like it anyway! #KinktoberMaybe

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, fast start to slow burn, idiots in love, angst, secrets, sexual frustration, good girl kink, public sex acts, manual sex, teasing, edging, Captain kink, praise/degradation kink, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

——

Steve glared at Bucky, silently daring him to say it. He had the urge to punch something and Bucky’s mug was very convenient at the moment. 

The only thing holding him back was the fact that Bucky was 100% correct.

“Let me get this straight. You had her. Or she had you rather, in the palm of her hand. And you left her there to take a shower and let her walk out the door?”

Steve thought back to what he was thinking when he made that decision. He realized that he wasn’t thinking, but panicking. He didn’t want the rush of hormones and emotions that flooded him after your beautiful mouth made him lose control. So he retreated to the shower, hoping and praying that you would follow him, and absolve him of having to make the decision.

All he needed was that one overture from you to make rushing forward with you before having a proper conversation.

But your pride was stronger than the physical need you had, and when you walked in the bathroom, you just fixed your face and reapplied your lipgloss, smoothing your dress down your body and looking at your ass in the full length mirror before you gave the shower a side eye when you walked out the door.

“None of it was supposed to happen… it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. I wanted to talk to her first. Before we… But she is so… I just wanted to do it right…”

Bucky shook his head. 

“You missed your chance at that, Punk. You could have told her on your date…or when we landed…or in the room, before you did disrespectful things to her.”

“Shut your trap, Jerk.”

Steve looked around the bar as people walked by. He sometimes regretted that he told Bucky everything. 

“... or at breakfast, before she sucked out what little brain cells you have…”

Steve downed his drink as he listened to his friend accurately recount his failures.

“Hey.”

Steve looked up into his best friend’s eyes.

“It’s not too late. The problem is that you riled her up and left her hanging. You better find her before one of these insanely handsome Italian men do.”

“Shit.”

Bucky chuckled as he watched Steve hurry out of the hotel and into the streets of the fishing village. He had to find you and tell you the truth.

—-

You loved your little sister, but she was being a monumental pain in the ass.

Hey, Sissy!

Just want to let you know that Topher and I and the rest of the peeps (except Steve of course) are going to Paris! D invited us!

I’ll send you lots of pics to post. The most romantic place on earth, eek! Enjoy the yacht ride and the accommodations. We’ll pick you up at the end of the week.

Go easy on Steve, don’t hurt him! ;)

You saw the message twenty minutes after Aria sent it, and she wasn’t picking up your calls. 

Now you were trapped in Italy with the asshole who liked to play mind games.

Great.

You looked over at the tall dark handsome stranger who was looking at you from the cafe across the street. You smiled as you realized that Steve Rogers wasn’t the only game in town.

—

Steve’s morning was spent searching high and low in Riomaggiore. But it was Bucky’s text that sent him flying back to the room.

Gonna take Aria and crew to Paris for the rest of the week. Don’t ask.

I can handle the two hour flight. You concentrate on Y/N, Aria wants you two to have alone time.

I gotta tell you though, Sharon thought she saw her with an Italian dude, btw…

Steve was shook when he found that you had cleaned out your stuff from the room that you were forced to share. 

He had no idea where you were.

—--

Hours later, you were enjoying coffee at a different cafe, alone. Luca was indeed handsome, and charming. But you weren’t quite feeling him like you wanted to. He showed you some sights, but after spending a wonderful afternoon with him, you decided you needed time to get out of your head.

So you went and got your things and transferred them to Aria’s suite. It was much more spacious than the room you’d shared with Steve. He deserved space from the horrible bitch who’d ruined his trip.

The best thing to do was to give him some space on his unintended vacation. You were a big girl. You could take care of yourself. And you needed some down time from taking care of everyone else. You would go to activities planned for Aria and Topher this week, get social media content, post it later, and make it seem as if her honeymoon was twice as long as it was. 

It was win-win.

So why did it feel as if you’d lost something?

You looked down into your cup of coffee as if you could read your future there and you heard a familiar voice.

“There you are!”

You looked up into the cerulean eyes of Steve Rogers.

You stared as he started talking.

“Listen. I know I fucked up. But let me explain.”

You scowled at him.

“Do all asshole men have the same script or something? That is one of the most basic sentences ever.”

You got out your wallet and put some euros, gathered your shopping bags and stood up.

“Y/N, I know I’m a basic bitch, but please hear me out.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Steve’s attempt at the vernacular. But you kept walking out of the cafe. You knew he was following you, but you kept it moving to the corner as you stopped to hail a taxi.

Steve was anxious, but he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight again. 

“I’ve rented a Vespa. I can give you a ride.”

His deep voice so close was doing things to you, but you just gave him a side eye over your shoulder.

Steve gave you a side smile in response and motioned down the street to the small red machine. You squinted at it.

“Will you, me, and my bags fit on that little bitty thing?”

“We’ll make sure we fit.”

Steve leaned toward you and gabbed your bags from you, fingers brushing against yours, sparking electricity. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish as you chased your purchases. 

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Steve stopped abruptly and turned around, causing you to stop inches from him.

“You’re right. Do you want me to leave you alone? Or do you want an explanation.”

You huffed up at him, heart beating a mile a minute at the deep bass of his voice.

“What if I want both? I need… I need to know the reason and I need to think. You’re a fucking enigma!”

Steve smiled down at you.

“I know. And I apologize. You don’t deserve the mind games.”

You exhaled.

“Thank you for that.”

“So. Do you want to go back to… wherever you’re staying tonight and talk tomorrow, or go somewhere and talk tonight and I give you space after… or….”

You realized that Steve was hurt that you moved out of the room as you looked into his eyes.

“I moved into Aria’s suite. To give you some space…”

“I don’t want… I mean. I get it.”

Steve was looking down now.

“Let’s go talk. Still have the yacht booked for tomorrow, that would be a great time for me to think.”

You watched Steve’s adam’s apple bob as he thought of you in a swimsuit.

“Cool. Let’s go.”

Steve led you to the scooter and secured your bags on the back of the Vespa as you got your helmet on. He put his helmet on and looked back at you as you climbed on behind him.

You had to be careful to tuck your dress properly, and you could have sworn that Steve licked his lips as he watched you. You decided to ignore that as you settled in.

You held on to Steve’s slim waist as loosely as you could, but you ended up with your hands dangerously close to where your mouth was this morning. You tried not to think of it as you took in the scenery and zipped through the town. Steve seemed to know his way around.

You turned into a parking area.

“The Via dell'Amore?, really Steve?”

“It’s a beautiful view. I’m not trying to mess with your mind, Y/N.”

You were wary, but you followed his lead to the trail. You were blown away as you stepped on the pathway proper and you felt Steve’s heat close behind you. It was a narrow path.

“Amazing isn’t it?”

“It’s breathtaking!”

You looked back at Steve and he smiled when he saw your face. 

“I’m glad that you like it.”

You two started to walk, and you found out that Steve had been stationed at Pisa and that’s why he knew Cinque Terre so well. 

“I bet you brought a lot of girls up here.”

You didn’t know why you cared. But he was supposed to be explaining himself.

“Fewer than you’d think. There was one local girl, but I haven’t had many relationships.”

“Oh.” 

You bit your lip as you overthought.

“I would have thought that someone who looked like you would have people falling at your feet.”

“Really?” Steve appraised you. “I might say the same for you.”

You laughed.

“I’m not everyone’s type.

“And I’ve never been more grateful to be an individual.”

You shook your head.

“Look Steve, I am really sorry for how I acted on our date. It was so wrong of me to assume about your upbringing. I understand your need to get back at me…”

“Wait. Do you think that last night and this morning was about getting back at you?”

Steve had stopped and was looking into your eyes.

“Well…”

Steve put his hands on your arms and shook his head.

“That wasn’t what that was. Man, I am such an idiot. I need to explain.”

Steve spied a stone bench that overlooked the water and led you over to it.

“This is about my childhood. And yours. About us…”

“What are you talking about, Steve?”

“What do most people ask you about your background?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Most people ask me how I became Aria’s publicist.”

Aria starred in a Disney sitcom as a teen and her recording and acting career took off from there. There were plenty of sharks, but you knew the business. When you finished college, you made sure that she would never be exploited again.

“I figured, but what about you? You’re pretty talented yourself, right? You acted a bit when you were younger, didn’t you?”

You did a double take. Not many people knew that about you.

“You’ve been researching me, Captain Rogers?”

Steve’s stomach flipped when you called him that, but he answered you.

“Not exactly. Maybe. Sort of. I know things.”

Steve plowed ahead. You decided to play along.

“So… yeah. I was in Betcha By Golly Wow when I was 10-12 years old. I played young Vanessa.”

You thought back to the days when you were considered one of the most promising young actors on broadway. You even had a Tony nomination somewhere in storage. What a time that was in your life. Aria was a toddler and your parents were still alive. It was before you had to grow up so fast. You adored Aria, but back then you were able to do something you loved in the most glorious way. 

Your arms raised goosebumps as you looked into Steve’s eyes. Something was prickling your intuition.

Steve nodded at your response as though he knew what you were going to say.

“What was your favorite part about performing on Broadway?”

“Well….”  

You looked at him again, getting this strange feeling of deja vu. There was something about this exchange that was giving you the feels.

“My favorite part of being on a Broadway show was making people happy. I loved hearing the audience sing along and laugh at my lines. I used to love the finale because everyone in the audience always got on their feet and danced along.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You were breathless now. It couldn’t be. You had to be crazy.

“And after the show, I used to meet as many people as possible. And talk to them. I was thrilled when they wanted my autograph and said that they wanted to come back to see the show again. It was such a privilege to make someone’s day.”

“D’you remember any of the people that you talked to?”

“There were some that stood out.”  

You were looking at Steve in a new light now. 

“...Like the time Audra McDonald came by. And Sheryl Lee Ralph. My heroes.”

“Are those the only ones you remember?”

“I loved when we did special matinees for schools. There was one time, when we were paid by the Stark Foundation to give personalized tours for boys from a group home who were interested in acting…”

“I bet that was a real treat for them.”

You squinted at Steve, trying to erase 20 years from his face.

“Yeah. I bet. But, as you probably know very well, 12 year old boys can be assholes. I was assigned this asswipe of a kid named Brock, and he demanded that I kiss him behind the kitchen set, he also tried to feel me up, and I slapped him.”

You shook your head at the memory. Then your brow furrowed and you looked back up at Steve.

“He started to manhandle me and I got scared, because he was so much bigger than me. He grabbed my arm and all of a sudden, this scrawny little kid named Grant…”

You cocked your head sideways at Steve, almost certain now. You continued.

“…This smallish kid named Grant jumped on his back from nowhere, and managed to distract him. Of course, Brock started to get him good, but I picked up a baseball bat from the stage props and together we got him to leave us alone. I ended up…”

Your voice trailed off as the emotion of that day came back. You couldn’t believe you had blocked this all out.

“Smallish?” Steve snorted. “He was a runt.” 

He smiled at you and your heart did a thing. 

“I’m guessing.”

You smiled and nodded. 

“Right.”

“And I bet that you took that Grant kid to your dressing room and cleaned him up. Because Brock tagged him in the nose pretty good.”

You looked at Steve’s beautifully crooked nose.

“You probably taught him the dance in the second act. Even the slow dance that the grown-ups did….”

Steve trailed off, lost in the moment so long ago.

That moment when you first stared into the same blue eyes that you were looking into now came back and took your breath away.

“Great guesses. And I bet you can also surmise that I was taller than him.”

You smiled softly as you remembered the way his hand trembled at your waist, but the boldness in the way he stared at you. You bit your lip as you remembered the innocent kiss on the cheek that you gave him as he left.

Steve was blushing now, looking down at his hands as he smiled at the memory.

“Yeah. He probably hadn’t had his growth spurt yet. But I bet that didn’t matter to him. You were probably… No definitely the most beautiful girl that kid had ever seen. And that kid never forgot that day. Or you. He probably never got over it.”

You two stared at each other for a long time it seemed. You broke the silence first.

“Steven Grant Rogers.”

Your eyes appreciated his body in a new light. 

“A growth spurt indeed.”

Steve flushed again.

“I wanted to tell you at dinner, but then…”

“I assumed shit and was rude as hell.”

“Yes…”

You scoffed as Steve laughed.

“…And I didn’t know how to tell you what I’ve wanted to since the day I found out you were Aria’s sister. The first time you stepped on the plane, you didn’t recognize me the way I recognized you. And I admit, I felt some kind of way.”

You cocked your head at him.

“You were salty? Why? You've been stalking me for 20 years and I ruined your chance to make you fall in love with me?”

You were joking but Steve didn’t laugh. 

“I’m not a stalker. But I really never forgot you. I did move on. Bucky and I enlisted together and I had other relationships. But there was this ideal girl in my head that no one could ever live up to. I gave up on finding the one, because I thought the one was somewhere out there that I would never reach. And then you walked on my plane and…”

“Wait. Your plane?”

“Well.. yeah. Bucky and I own two jets, and we lease them.”

“Oh. Topher presented it as if he owned it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Anyway. Here you were. And you virtually ignored me. And then I managed to get a date with you and you were…”

“An asshole. I know.”

“Just.. not the same girl I had in my head.”

“Oh. So you’re disappointed?”

Your heart sank for some reason.

“No. You have grown up. You know who you are and speak up about it. But you challenge me, you care so much about everyone else, and you’re so fucking intelligent. And that body…”

You thrilled at that statement.

“You’re so much better than the fantasy I’d built in my head. I was intimidated.”

“You didn’t seem intimidated last night. Or this morning.”

You moved closer to him, craving…something.

“I wasn’t planning on having to sleep in the same bed as you. I couldn’t help myself.”

Steve’s hand touched your arm and moved up your neck.

“It’s like I’m drawn to you on a string… I…and this body… you’re not a little girl anymore.”

Steve looked down your cleavage and then drew away. You felt disappointed.

“I wanted to talk to you before… if… anything happened.”

Steve looked out over the water.

“And I just know that if I… if we… took it there. It would be the point of no return.” 

He looked back over to you.

“You wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.”

Your eyes were on Steve’s lips.

“So it’s like that?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“You mean to tell me that I would be dickmatized? I couldn’t quit you if I tried.”

Steve smiled cockily at you.

“Pretty sure that would be the case…”

“Try me.”

And suddenly you were on Steve’s lap, your hands in his hair as you kissed his lips and demanded entry with your tongue. You ground your crotch on him, bringing his cock to life through his pants. His hands went to your waist, thumbs caressing your sides as he took possession of your mouth. He groaned and one hand moved up to your nape, grabbing the hair there to separate you from him.

“We can’t…you’re trying to get me to fuck you on the side of a public cliff.’

You whined as Steve attacked your neck, nipping and biting you, surely leaving marks. Your clit was quivering from the pleasure and your whines got louder.

“Need you Steve…”

The last 24 hours felt like a giant tease. 

“You need time to think, remember? We’re caught up in emotion now… time to.. Fuck… think.”

“Yes. You’re right. Thinking is for winners. Not fucking like mindless animals. Wouldn’t want you to fuckme from behind like an animal with that big dick…”

“I’m so hard right now, I’d need to struggle to fit it in that tight little hole…”

You whimpered.

“It would be so easy right now. ‘M so wet…”

Steve groaned.

“Ok.. that’s it.”

He lifted you off of his lap and all you could do was look down on his hardon, disappointed. He lifted your chin to look in your eyes.

“You really will have us arrested.”

He nodded toward a security camera.

“Let’s go back to our separate rooms. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yes, join me on the yacht tour we can have a great discussion in our bathing suits. Swim in the ocean. Get all wet…”

Steve shook his head at you and grabbed your hand.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

He led you back down the path to the Vespa and kissed you after you put your helmet on.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, y/n. I will give you anything you ask for. And you asked for space.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, even if I ask you to?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Steve laughed at your antics.

You kept your hands in neutral places on the ride back to the hotel, resting your chin against Steve’s leather-clad back. Steve caressed your hand with his as he drove. He walked you back to your new suite, and when you reached the door you leaned back against the wall.

“Do you want to come… in?”

Steve smiled at you. 

“More than anything… but I won’t..”

You pouted up at him, chipping away at his resolve. You cursed yourself for saying you needed time alone.

“Can I have a kiss, Captain?”

Steve chuckled, moving closer to you.

“Of course…”

You dropped your bags when he leaned down, your tongue laved his lips and when he opened, you sucked his tongue. Steve moaned into your mouth as your hands came up and tugged on his hair. That was a hot wire straight to his cock. His hands began to wander, large fingers playing with your nipples through your bodice. Your sensitive buds were straining against the lace and the cotton as he teased you.

“This dress…the way you look in it. And the way you feel…”

“You’re making me so hot, Steve. Want you. Need you…I’m dripping for you.”

You pressed yourself close to him, standing on tiptoe to return the favor of marking his neck, making him reach down and gather up the hem of your dress.

“Is that so?”

And his fingers dipped into the lace of your sodden panties, moaning as he felt you.

“Fuck this feels so good, Doll. You are so slick…oh my god…”

He started to finger fuck you with two thick fingers as his thumb twirled your plucky button.

You were holding on to his shoulders for dear life at this point.

“S-steve! Fuck!”

“When you go in here. By yourself. Alone.”

It was like he was trying to convince himself. And he was.

“Don’t touch yourself. I’m claiming this pussy as mine. And I don’t want you to touch it. Be a good girl and save your orgasm for me.”

You were about to cum on the palm of Steve’s hand, so you would agree to anything.

“Jesus Steve… yes, yes! Whatever you say.”

He withdrew his hand, holding your glare as you watched him suck his fingers off, angry that your orgasm was denied. You didn’t want to be defiant, but you needed retribution.

“Then you can’t touch that cock. No matter how hard you get tonight.”

Steve gulped.

“Don’t waste any of that delicious cream on the floor or any where that I am not there to lick it off of you. If you are not going to cum inside me tonight, you better not do it anywhere.”

He smiled at your possessiveness.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He leaned down and kissed your nose.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry. You know that?”

You smiled up at him and turned around to the wall within the cage of his arms.

“I’m much cuter when you’re hitting it from the back, or so I’m told.”

Steve felt a mixture of jealousy and lust as you stuck your ass out and ground on his hard cock through your dress and his pants. He pushed his wet fingers in your mouth as his other hand went back to your pussy, teasing you to the edge again, as he molded you to his fingers.

“Such a fucking brat. I should fill all your holes…”

Your body throbbed as you thought of being used by Steve in that way.

You begged for it.

“Please Captain…”

Steve growled as he abandoned your pussy again and fell to his knees, pulling your dress up and your panties down. He pulled your hips backward so that he had access to your sopping wet crease. He needed to shut you up, and this was the best thing he could think of although you were in the middle of a public hotel hallway. Of course, he wasn’t thinking clearly since there was no blood in his brain.

Steve’s lips suckled at your clit like a man dying of thirst and just when your vision started to blur, his rude tongue forged a path up your folds to your tight ring of muscle, where he boldly dipped inside you. You grabbed his hair as he gave you a taste of what he wanted to do to you, but once again, you were denied the ultimate pleasure. He stopped just before you came all over his face.

Your head was spinning as he turned you around and fixed your dress. You looked up at him, surprised that he was upright, and that you were not on your knees next.

“Now be a good girl and get some rest.” 

He put your bags back in your hand and kissed your temple, then retreated across the hall as you opened your door. 

“G’night,” he said as you held the door open, as if offering an invitation.

“Sweet dreams,” you responded, letting the door swing closed as you pulled your dress over your head, giving him a glimpse of the lilac lace beneath your dress.

Steve’s first urge was to break the door down when it latched closed, but instead he just stood there and collected himself as he looked around for the exit and took the stairs down to his room to burn off some steam.

You leaned against the wooden door of your room, hoping in vain to cool down the fire that Steve Rogers had stoked inside of you.

—-

If you like it, reblog pls! ❤️

[slashergirlnancy]

stranger things + incorrect quotes (8/?)

[deadjam6]

William afton and my girlfriends oc :)

Outfits for them them!

[cavinginhisfvce]

billy w two of his boyfriends <3

*why did dj have to choose anyway??? she could've had them both???? (no we're not gonna focus on the fact she chose steve and i made steve h. into eddie. lmao)

[crewmannumbersix]

but baseball is pretty good, too

Relationship: Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler

Word Count: 13,058

Chapters: 1/2

Summary: LA Dodger's social media manager Robin Buckley navigates her best friend starting at first base, trying to set said best friend up with the rock star throwing out the first pitch, and her embarrassingly large crush on SportsNetLA's on-field reporter, Nancy Wheeler.

Read it on AO3.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — eddie x fem reader (7.1k)

summary: 2011– your roommate drags you to a frat party and ditches the second she sees the guy she’s been fucking. left by yourself, you meet someone by accident, someone who isn’t in the fraternity 

warnings: smut, underage drinking, p in v, unprotected sex, grinding, dancing, eddie is trying to be cocky but he’s just awkward and silly

notes: i had a blast deep diving back into my hs and college days to reminisce with this. i hope if you were growing up during this time you can giggle along with me. love youuu oooh! also i hid some easter eggs in here (they’re not hidden at all)

The basement was steamy, and not in a ‘oh it’s a little warm in here but more like, every single person is drunk off their ass and the walls are sweating’kind of way.

College was everything you’d hoped it to be and more.

Your roommate, Kenzie was the type of girl who had an ‘open closet’ policy letting you wear her clothes almost more than your own. You weren’t too keen on sharing a dorm room with a girl you’ve never met before, but thankfully—you had gotten lucky. 

You had heard the horror stories from your older sister about her terrible roommate freshman year and you worried for most of the summer that you’d strike the same type of fortune. It wasn’t until you got a friend request on Facebook and a cheery little message : 

[Kenzie Walmen 2:07 PM: heyyyy roomie (;] 

that you knew you had nothing to worry about. 

She was from the west coast in sunny California, that bright western sky seeped deep into her personality. Kenz was sun kissed and bright haired, pretty ocean dipped eyes to give her the All-American type of aesthetic that most girls wished for. And maybe it was her laid back disposition, or her thrill for living it up and every hour of the day— that landed you here tonight at Delta Kappa Sigma. 

It wasn’t your scene.

You weren’t shy or new to getting drunk, you had even been so brave to take the occasional hit from a homemade bong in your neighbors dorm a few times, but the frat parties were known for their out of control Project X style of getting shitfaced. 

And something about guys with too much testosterone and too much Adidas cologne made your skin crawl and not in a good way. 

“Prints always look weird on me,” you grumble into the mirror eyeing your curves in a leopard lace tank top and black skirt, “is it too much?” 

Kenzie adjusts her off-the-shoulder top, adding a bit of shimmer powder to her exposed shoulder, “absolutely not, if anything it’s not enough.” Neon feathers decorate her bouncy curled hair as she eyes you in the mirror, “add that silver chunky necklace, and you’ll look bomb.” 

She was right, the necklace really pulled the entire look together, and if it were Halloween weekend you could even pass as a Spice Girl or maybe Snookie. 

“Sooo, is Steve gonna be there tonight?” You ask elongating the vowels in the aforementioned name, followed by some kissy faces and porn worthy moans. 

Kenzie rolls her eyes, a dusting of pink warming her cheeks, “yeah… about that. He said he has a “surprise” for me when I get there, so if I disappear, I’m just with him, okay?” 

“Wait wait wait—” you protest, holding a death grip clutch on a bottle of UV blue. “We aren’t even at the party yet and you’re already planning on ditching me?” 

— 

And that’s what got you here, a little more than drunk, holding a piss warm Green apple flavored Four Loko to your mouth, leaning against the corner basement wall in hopes to maybe disappear, wishing you were anywhere but in this cesspool of basement. 

The “DJ” (a frat guy wearing neon glasses with bars across them, scrolling through an ipod and a playlist more than likely named ‘Get Crunk’) was playing Kid Cudi, again. Everyone was screaming along to the chorus like he personally wrote it for them and their experience at college. A headache was brewing behind your eyes as the beat thumped loudly into your chest and radiated to your temples. 

Kenzie left almost immediately upon arriving. Swooped up and tossed over the broad shoulder of Steve the minute he answered the door. You laughed and shook your head, imagining how she was probably face down in navy cum stained sheets by now. 

The hours she spent on her hair and makeup went to waste, only being seen by the dead catalog eyes of Playboy’s finest from their pinned positions on the walls of Steve’s shared bedroom. 

Another sip from the overly carbonated beverage has you shuddering, the fiery ripple of fruit flavored [vomit] alcohol scouring through you like lava, causing your face to screw into a disgusted look.

How can people drink this shit? 

Your bladder screams at you to break the seal, demanding to find relief, immediately. The black lights were zero help in disguising if there were any doors that might lead into a bathroom. Pushing from the wall and taking the last hot sip from your drink, you navigate your way to the stairs. 

A table holding lone solo cups in formation from a forgotten beer pong game is now the proud owner of your empty can.

Weaving through the jungle of fist pumping douchelords and tipsy sorority girls making out for risqué facebook pics labeled [*~Freshman Y3ar!~*] you finally emerge from the sweaty pits of fraternity hell and climb the beer stained steps to the main floor. 

The monotonous beat from the music thumped a little less loudly up here, as if the noise was absorbed by the maroon colored carpeting and the oak cabinets in the foyer. 

The house was dated, decorated with a clash of orangey dark wood mixed with emeralds, dark reds and gold. As if this house was based out of Tuscany instead of midwest nowhere— complete with the rubbery fake fruit and vines that stood solely to collect dust. 

You had never been here before and didn’t know where in the hell to start looking to find the bathroom, and like Alice, you figured you might as well try every door knob in this type of Wonderland. 

The first door you peeked into looked like it was a formal dining room, but instead sat a television on the great oval table blasting obnoxiously loud as a pornstar moaned ripples of “pleasure” through her pink pout. Above her was an extremely tanned guy rocking a set of hard abs, thrusting in a slow rhythm that didn’t match her orgasm. 

A snicker slips from your lips and you gently pull the door closed with a small click, loud whoops and whistling from what you could only assume were a couple of frat guys erupt behind the door.

Watching porn together. 

You’ll have to add that to your growing list of things you didn’t know about the brotherhood behind a fraternity. 

The second door looked more hopeful as it was adjacent to the kitchen area. Upon nearly peeing down your leg, you were shocked stupid when you yanked the door open to find a closet housed with cleaning supplies. 

What the fuck? 

How could a frat house not have a bathroom? 

Your bladder squeezed in on itself and you were certain you couldn’t hold it any longer. Just short of giving up on this quest of relief and going back to your dorm, a gaggle of girls run down the steps leading to the top floor, where you could only assume the bedrooms were. 

“…why are frat bathrooms always so fucking dirty?!” 

Bingo.

Hustling up the never ending carpeted stairs, your bladder was on the brink of exploding as you shoved past a wooden door with a paper sign that read, “no jerking off in the shower!! pipes are clogged!” 

Your sandals clapped along the sea foam tiles floors as you slipped into one of the many metal stall doors. With a swift hike of your skirt up to your middle and pull of your panties, you were finally able to pee. 

A choir of angels sang the HallelujahHallelejuah chorus as you went and you sighed in relief that you had made it. 

“..yeah yeah, okay asshole,” a loud voice sounded from just outside the bathroom door frame, “you still owe me from last time,” the voice now echoed as it hit against the tiles and cement block walls, “no, payment is cold hard cash buddy, I don’t care if you have to dip into your trust fund.”  

A pair of black docs stomp into the tiled bathroom, nearing the stall you were in. There's no way he’ll come to this stall. 

“Tell daddy that you need more money for polos or Jordan’s— I really don’t give a fuck, but you need to pay the fuck up.” 

But as fate would have it…and in your hurry to get to the toilet before pissing all over yourself… and forgetting to lock the door in your haste… the stall door swings wide open— revealing a very bottomless you, to a pair of very wide dark, deer-in-the-headlight eyes. 

A beat that feels like an eternity passes, his hand is choked against his belt in a yank to unthread it, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear. Your hands fly to cover yourself the best you can, panties still at your ankles, skirt still around your midsection. 

It’s all yells and screams with this random guy stumbling over himself dropping his phone on the ground and spewing, “Shit! Sorry! Sorry!” and you yelling for him to shut the fucking door already. 

His apologies don’t stop as he pulls the door closed, and from the other side of it as you pull up your underwear and adjust your skirt. 

“I swear! I didn’t think anyone was in there! I promise!” 

Your face burns in embarrassment as you contemplate melting into the floor and becoming one with the poorly aimed piss stains and the dirty grout. As good as that sounds you still have to leave, you still have to pass the guy who just saw your bare vag and you still have to navigate your way out of here. 

His phone lays face down on the floor, and you pray it isn’t broken for his sake. You pick it up, flipping it over to see that it scathed by with just a fine crack from one corner to another. His screen saver is a picture of a group of guys in a skatepark in the dark, smoke billowing thickly to cover their faces as they stand on the boards, the one with dark longer hair is shirtless, and painted with tattoos. 

“Shit,” you breathe quietly, “your phone is cracked.” 

You can see the shadows of his feet pacing back and forth but when you speak they stop, “oh..,” he mumbles, clearing his throat a bit, “umm, yeah, no biggie it was broke like that already.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah— hey, if you wanna slide that under the door I can um, let you ..ahem.. finish up in there.” 

Shit. Duh he needed his phone, and you were just holding it hostage in here as your shame hung thickly in the air. God this might really couldn’t get any fucking worse.

A deep breath in through your nose, you fake a mask of confidence and open the stall door. 

You hadn’t gotten a good look at him when he barged in on you, but now in the fluorescent dust covered light you dared to look a little longer at him. 

Long locks of honeyed brown locks fell onto the tops of his shoulders, covered with a green plaid flannel that hung open showing his neck and a flick of dark lines from a tattoo hidden under a black band tank top. His eyes were just as brown, round and flocked with a grove of thick lashes. Clearly he was the shirtless one in his background picture. 

He smiled sheepishly, pulling his jaw taunt as he averted his gaze to the toe of his boots, noticing your hand stretched out before him to give him back his phone, he glanced at your face, skimming his hand over your palm.

“Thanks— uh…” he started, shifting his weight to lean back against the many rows of sinks, “sorry again, I promise I don’t normally walk in on ladies using the facilities.” 

His eyes met yours and you instantly felt a heat run to your throat, his lips were impossibly plump as he drew them into a tight smirk. 

Fuck are those dimples? Of course they were. God he’s so pretty. 

You smile, “normal people lock the stall, but I was in a hurry… well I was lost!” you exclaim in a huff, fully hands on hips annoyed, “why the fuck would the bathroom be on the top floor?” 

You asked him incredulously like he should know. But on second thought…

“uhh… I dunno,” he shrugs, sliding his phone into the front pocket of his light wash colored jeans, not even looking at the broken screen as he leaned back again, “I’m not exactly an architect.”  

“But you live here?” you question, turning on the sink to wet your hands, “haven’t they ever thought of putting even a half bath on the main floor?” 

He rumbles out a laugh that makes your cheeks tingle, your buzz still in full force, “nah, you got it all wrong, I’m not a member of the ‘fraternity brotherhood of Alpha Mega Steroid’”, he jokes with air quotes, smiling wide when your lips tick up at the ends. “But I am a frequent guest, of sorts…”

This guy seemed to be one of those people who can make a nun blush, witty and dripping with a sexual charm that radiated from him like a ray of fucking sunshine. And fuck that grin of his. You’re in trouble. 

“Ahh, okay,” you banter back easily, shaking your hands to dry them since there were no paper towels in sight, “which one is your boyfriend? Let’s see I know.. Kyle? I think is his name, reddish hair, kinda feminine hands, or are you fucking Steve because I gotta say, I think my roommate might be giving you a run for your money right now.” 

Eddie’s eyes light up, a quirk in his brow as he asks, “Blonde girl? Kinda naive, head over heels for that mop of perfectly styled hair? Shit, what’s her name…Kelly? Kitten? She’s your roommate?” 

Of course he would know her, Kenzie knows everyone, and seems to leave a kind of impression on people that you envied. As bright as she shined, you were the shadow behind her. 

“Yeah,” you say, not hiding your annoyance, remembering how you got into this predicament in the first place. 

Eddie looks just as pissed as you’re feeling, “Oh, Stevie boy and I will be having words later on his lack of tact. They’re the reason why I was out wondering the halls like a fuckin’ ghost in a haunted mansion.” 

He takes note that you’re in the same boat he’s in but in your case, it’s a little worse, being a girl alone in a frat house never ends well. 

“I’m Eddie, uhh…designated dealer,” he says in almost a whisper, “for the deep pocketed asshoels full of daddy’s money.”

You connect a few dots, realization hitting hard in your frontal lobe from conversations you’ve kind of listened to from Kenzie about Steve. 

“Ahh, okay… now that you mention it, Kenz has talked about you before. You’re Steve’s old friend, Munson? I thought she meant like a forty year old or something.”

He laughs, loud and belly rolling like, “nah, minus a twenty from that. Steve and I are just close friends ‘s all… and no, not boyfriends.” 

You laugh then, all bubbly and light hearted that has his own skipping beats. Saying your name, he repeats it, a little grin on his face that he tries to hide, “mm that’s cute.” 

“Cute?” you question, an eyebrow raised as you fold your arms in on themselves, poking a hip out. 

“Yeah… cute,” he says standing fully and peering down at you, “your name is very fitting for you.” 

You roll your eyes playfully at his flirty words. Even though your stomach is somersaulting at the way his eyes seem to drip from heaven when he looks at you, your cheeks heating beneath his gaze.

“Is this the part where we exchange our hometowns and majors, because I’d rather get run over than do that right now.” 

Eddie chuckles, “oh yeah, well I’m actually here on an athletic scholarship.” 

“Really?” you question, eyebrows cocked in disbelief. 

“Yes!” Eddie jokes back, trying to bite back a smile, “if you must know it’s for Tennis, but please don't bother me for an autograph. I'm just trying to be a normal guy tonight.” 

“Noted.” You giggle, admiring the way this banter is coming so easily, maybe it was the liquid courage taking over or the fact that he was actually fun to talk to— either way, this night is starting to take a turn for the better.

“So, what does a Tennis star/designated rich boy drug dealer usually do at these kinds of things besides bursting in on girls using the bathroom?” 

He smiles, dipping his chin and looking at you through those impossibly thick lashes. Pushing off the sink he asks, “Sell a little here and there, sometimes dip into my own stash…what do you usually do at these things?” 

“Well,” you tease, twisting on the ball of your foot and heading towards the door out to the hallway, “I’m not usually at these things.”

“Ohh my god,” Eddie preens in his best valley girl/ Kourtney Kardashian impression, “you’ve never been to frat party!?” 

You smile, at his stupid joke, “Noo, I haven’t actually. Kenzie drug me out for a little pick me up after we bombed our History midterm, to…y’know— live it up— YOLO, all that.”

“Okay okay, letting off some steam after the stress of class, I get it...school was never a cake walk for me either.” 

“Yeah! But then your friend snatched her up, and since I don’t know anyone here… I was doing a very impressive wall flower guise, until my bladder interrupted that… and then a guy barged in on me in the bathroom.” 

Eddie stalks towards you, his eyes roving over your body, “Well… now you know me, soo Miss Lady Wallflower,” he cracks, “shall we descend to the basement and keep this party going?” 

His infectious smile stretches wide, practically ear to ear and you find yourself grinning just as wide, trying to twist your lips to at least hide your enthusiasm a little bit but goddamn— something about the way those dimples compliment the fucking christmas twinkle in his eyes.. ugh. 

He was trouble. The kind you had always craved but never dabbled in. But when in Rome…

“Lead the way.”

—

Eddie had made a pit stop in the large kitchen before returning to the basement. 

“Now sweetheart,” he purred, fishing around the shelves, of a pantry, moving cans of food and bags of chips, “I didn’t plan on drinking more tonight, but I’m not gonna let you drink by your— aha!” 

Eddie stands upright, brandishing a large box of saltine crackers. Your eyebrows furrow in response and he bows low, puts his hand inside the box, “I present to you, Stevie’s not so secret hiding spot,” pulling out his hand, his fingers are wrapped around a bottle of Burnett’s Vodka.  

Your eyes widen with devilish glee as you smirk, “how did you know it’d be there?” 

Eddie unscrews the cap and puts it to his lips for a long six second pull. 

You weren’t watching the way his throat bobbed and gulped when he swallowed each burning swig. Nope, not at all. You definitely weren’t memorizing each valley of cords and muscles as a single drop fell to his sharp chin and jaw. Never, not you!

And you weren’t holding your breath right along with him only breathing when those fucking glorious thick lips popped clean from the mouth of that bottle… his lips shiny from the bitter alcohol like a gloss you desperately need to lick clean. Yeah… no. that was not you…

So it’s only fitting when he speaks hoarsely and clears his throat that you are snapped back to the moment, your core keeping its own pulse. 

“He’s been keeping vodka in the same box in a food pantry since we were in high school, guy is the most unoriginal bastard I know,” he shrugs, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and you can’t help but almost pout in the wasted opportunity. 

His eyes meet yours and they look just as hungry as you were feeling. He smirks crookedly and you practically flatline from the depth those molasses colored eyes hold. He moved first, inching towards you like a wolf stalking its prey, your pretty chapstick smile daring him to come closer. 

But the fuse between you is snuffed out cold as a crying girl erupts from the basement steps, her gaggle of friends helping calm her down as they leave the house. 

Eddie shakes his head and clears his throat as if he was just as bothered by you as you were of him. Turning towards the fridge he asks, “I’m sure they’ve got some Sunny D you can chase this with if that’s cool?” 

—

The basement proved to be in the same situation you had left it in: hot, sweaty, sticky. 

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes hotly behind you, loud enough to hear him above the music, “it’s like a furnace down here, no wonder that girl was crying.”

You lead him to the corner you were tucked in before, your drink still sitting on the beer pong table. By the way he is standing you can tell that this really isn’t his scene either, but after a while of passing the vodka and orange juice back and forth between you, he seems to loosen up a bit. His shoulders relax as his back leans against the wall next to you. 

Eddie’s words slurring together as his stories became more and more animated, and you giggle along, never taking your eyes off of him. Completely enamored. 

Your stomach burned with a flurry of butterflies when a few of his clients came up to him to buy, each more nervous than the next. Eyeing you suspiciously, questioning if you were some sort of a narc. 

Eddie stepped ahead of you, his shoulders squared and chest out to casually announce that you were cool and were with him. 

You didn’t know that he was waiting for you to object to it, to shove away from him and call him a pig for even assuming that you’d ever be seen with the likes of him besides in the dark, but you never did. 

Hours pass and the music just gets worse. Wiz Khalifa starts singing about colors and Eddie looks at the crowd of people grinding and rolls his eyes. 

The alcohol has you feeling tingly, a buzzing of flirtation sparks your blood and you are closer to Eddie than ever, the smell of his musky cologne and laundry detergent invade you.

Like any drunk girl, you start getting antsy, a little more touchy, and a lot more feely. Standing around isn’t cutting it anymore and you want to move, toss your hair back to some cheesy song, want to feel those hands you’ve been staring at all night run along your body as your hips move against him. 

Running your forefinger along the inside seam of Eddie’s flannel shirt, you look up at him through your lashes. 

“I’m assuming you’re not one to dance to a club remix?” 

Eddie watches your finger stroke up and down, your knuckles barely grazing his abdomen, but the small touch sending electricity to his spine. 

He leans into you, following your lead and pinching the hem of your skirt between his large fingers “you’d assume correct, the music I listen to is a little more head bangy than this.” 

“So,” you say coyly, pulling him towards you just a fraction more, “what you’re really saying is that you can’t dance.” 

Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back, his throat sticky with sweat and the hair by his ears wet and curling into ringlets, “oh I can dance my ass off honey, taught Channing Tatum everything he knows.” 

His hands find your hips, and you almost lose the little bit of confidence you have gained when the warmth of them seeps through your shirt, his blunt nails skimming your skin in small strokes.

“Do these little white lies masked as dorky ass pickup lines work for you?” Your hands are on his chest now, the black light illuminating each letter of his Deftones shirt to sparkle like snow beneath your fingers. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers into your ear, pulling you tight against him so your chest is pressed into his, “you tell me.” 

The music changes and a throwback song  

comes on, one you haven’t heard in years. 

“Guess you’ll have to show me those moves, because in typical drunk girl fashion… this is my song!” 

You grab Eddie’s hand and stomp to the middle of the floor, pulling him along with you until you’re shoulder to shoulder with other drunk and sweaty college kids. 

“Get low?” Eddie asks from behind you, his mouth dangerously close to the shell of your ear as his hands land heavy on your hips, “seriously?” 

Leaning your head back so your lips could reach him you talk loud enough just so he can hear you, “stop talking and fucking dance with me already.” 

“Goddamn…” he groans when you finally push your body fully back into him. 

It’s sloppy and horribly uncoordinated the way your drunken hips move beneath his hands. You’re both swaying along with the music, trying like hell to match the rhythm of everyone else around you. But in the tiny square footage you have in this cluster fuck of a space, Eddie has all the right moves. 

His palms are pressing you tighter into him, making sure you can feel just how hard he is, how hard you are making him. 

Courage and a few prom night dances under your belt have you dropping low and coming up slow, your skirt fanning out the tiniest bit as your knees are bent to the ground.

And Eddie is practically thanking God himself when you run the fattest part of your ass up his body, on the bunched denim by his shins, skimming the barely there fabric of your skirt against the hole in his knee, and finally up where he desperately needs your body the most. 

When you come back up he moves your hair from the side of your neck, his lips puckering around your earlobe as he nibbles lightly, “spin around so I can see you.” 

He groans again when you shake your head and laugh at his dismay, as much as he is turned on and bothered you are too, but the power of keeping him like this, teasing him with your body— turned you on even more. 

You snake your hands upwards seductively, landing daintily at the nape of his neck, twirling the wet tendrils of curls round and round pulling gently. Eddie hisses through his teeth, his hands roaming freely from your hips to your ribcage running them along the length of your sides, bruisingly hard. 

One minute you’re facing away from him, eyes closed in pleasure as he roves over your body, his lips pressed to your neck, and in the next he’s spinning you around so that you’re face to face— eyes locked on eachother, the heat and the alcohol and the endorphins are too much to handle. 

Your once labored breathing snuffs out to nothing when he leans in with licked lips his eyes fixated on your mouth. Standing. Staring. Staring and standing. You’ve had enough of this cat and mouse game. 

“Fucking kiss me alrea—”

His mouth with its plush pillow lips slam into you. He tastes like tart orange juice and a bite of alcohol. Like the way a summer day would taste if it were bottled up. He licks into your mouth and you whine for more of him, clutching onto his neck and pulling him further into you. 

When you break for air it’s loud, smacking lips and lapping tongues, tilting your heads to line up perfectly. When you twist yours again, Eddie holds onto your neck angling it just so with a glint of trouble in those whiskey eyes as he dives into the supple skin at the column of your throat. 

Sucking, swirling— his tongue is hot against you and you’re clutching onto his shoulders, your nails digging into the pilling fabric like he was the only thing keeping you Earthbound. 

You wiggle in his arms, squealing and whining out but he’s holding you tightly against him, moaning words into your neck that you can’t hear above the music. Then he’s on your mouth again, working you into a fit. His big veiny hands move along your back, grabbing your ass softly, then work up to wrap in your hair or lightly scratch at the inch of skin between your skirt and your tank top. 

Doing your own little damage to him, his shirt is shoved up over his chest, your fingernails trailing down his tattooed skin. A rise of goosebumps following in their tracks, and he stops kissing you to suck in a breath, your smile on his lips as you laugh and he whispers a breathy ‘fuuuuck’. 

Your fingers trail down to his waist band, tickling his skin as you suggest an idea with your eyes, one that you’re certain he would understand.

“C’mon,” he mouths, gesturing his chin to the exit as he slowly begins to pull you from the dance floor, up the stairs and into the kitchen area.

Eddie knew what he wanted. Knew it the second you walked out of that stall with that sweet fucking smile on your lips, shy and coy when he called your name cute, like you weren’t at all used to the type of attention he was giving.

And maybe you didn’t want this with him. Maybe you were a: ‘fuck-me-in-the-dark-so-I-won’t-be-embarrassed-by-being-seen-with-you’ type of girl, but you did dance with him, you laughed at his stupid jokes, stuck by him almost all night, but still he needed to be sure. 

He thought maybe in the brighter light you’d change your mind about what you wanted, what you needed from him, but you surprise him when you cling to his side, going up the steps, and backing into a wall pulling him with you by his shirt needily when you reach the top.

“D’ you uh..wanna get outta here?” he slurs, almost sleepily, his bangs fucked up beyond belief, his hair drenched and sticky with sweat and humidity, lips swollen red.

“My dorm isn’t far,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes running your finger along the waist of his jeans, “across campus.” 

Eddie chuckles, “fuck…” he sweeps a thumb over your pouted lips, groaning as he bites his own. “I’d crawl to fuckin’ Alaska for these, honey.” 

Your cheeks burn sweetly from his inebriated compliments. And even though you’re tipsy and so is he, you feel an odd sort of comfort with him—one you haven’t experienced before. 

“Let’s go then,” you whisper into his ear, “I want you inside me.” 

That did it for him. 

Eddie was all but running with you across the campus green, but not before taking off his long sleeved shirt and placing it over your shoulders murmuring how it was freezing and you’d probably get sick. 

Your combined laughter ricocheted off concrete forums and neatly trimmed grass. Passing by the fancy Chemistry Lab building, the Art Museum, the Med School and finally to your painted black brick dorm building: “Wheeler Hall” 

“Here’s home,” you sing out, placing your key into the door and pulling on the steel handle. 

The Wheeler Dorms were the newest addition to the college town. Named after a family that was killed in an accident back in the 80’s or something… you didn’t really remember what happened. 

The side door you had come in through was closest to your room, 011, on the first floor, again, the universe being kind to you. 

“Never been here before,” Eddie said looking around with wide eyes, “any of the dorms actually.” 

You smiled upon unlocking your room and entering, hanging up your keys on the command strip hooks by the door. Whatever confidence he had back at the party is now deflated a bit once he realizes just how different the two of you are. What the hell was he doing here? You’re in college, he’s only here because he deals. 

“Uhh..?” he questions, eyeing the lofted bed, “you know I was joking about being an athlete, right?” 

You giggle and toss your purse onto the futon, “relax, that’s Kenzie’s bed, mine is the shorter one.” 

“Oh thank fuck,” he practically sings letting out an over exaggerated sigh as he plops down on your futon, eyeing the leopard throw blanket, “I may look like a suave Casanova but I’m about as agile as Mr. Bean.” 

Laughter fills the room and you click on a lamp throwing the room into a cozy ambience as you slip off your sandals and sit on your bed, leaning forward, “you’re way hotter than him.” 

Eddie blushes a bubble gum pink sheen, using his still damp and unruly hair to cover his face, “keep being sweet on me see where it gets you.” 

“Is that supposed to be a threat, or a promise?”

“Oh baby, I don’t make threats, not to a girl that’s like you.” 

“Like me?” 

“Yeah you,” he deadpans, standing up and waltzing towards your bed, crowding you in, “funny, sexy, and by some greater power— digs me… at least I hope.” 

“I’m not the type of girl to bring a guy back to my place, Eddie,” you nearly whisper, putting a finger into his dangling necklace and pulling him forward, “you’d be the first.” 

Eddie places his hands next you on the bed, “like your first? Or just here in college first, I’m cool with either I just— are you sure you want this? I can leave if y—”

Cutting him off you kiss him, but not like the heavy kisses earlier when you two were making out like you were each other's oxygen masks, this one is sweet, like melted  sugar on Eddie’s tongue. 

“You talk too much,” you say with a warm smile, wrapping a finger around his curled ends of hair, “no more of that, just kiss me.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and shifts you up further into the bed, laying your head on a pillow his body pressed into yours. He takes his time with you, kissing your lips then your jaw, working his way down your neck to where the bruises he’s already sucked into your skin were painted. 

Your moans and little breathy sighs have him hard against his zipper, his hips bucking into the tiny fabric of your panties that’s covering up that sweet pussy he got a glimpse of earlier. 

His shirt is somewhere on the floor, you had pried it off of him between locked lips and groans of having to move your lips from his that earned you a throaty laugh from him and the sexiest eyes that drove into you with an intense ferocity. 

He lowers further down your body, kissing every inch, moving your tank top out of the way to eye your orange bra, his mouth between your cleavage, moaning about how orange is now his favorite color. 

Eddie’s everywhere all at once, a hand traveling up and down your thigh, from the crux of your knee to the waistband of your skirt, the other hand is popping your tits out from that new found favorite colored bra of his —smiling wickedly at your peaked nipples. 

You moan lustful bliss as his tongue circles each one, giving equal attention to both, “you like that?” he asks.

“Feels so good,” you whine, “more, please.” 

Eddie smirks with your nipple between his teeth, “don’t have to ask me twice.” 

You weren’t a virgin, but holy shit you felt as if you had never had sex before, well never sex like this. Eddie teased you with his fingers, his thumb rubbing your clit while his fingers pumped inside of you, each curling inward towards a place nobody has reached before. 

He groaned with his bottom lip tucked between his sharp bite rubbing his achy cock through his jeans when you pushed your skirt down laying there in a matching orange lacey thong, bedazzled on the hips. 

“Would it be corny if I say you look like a Goddess?” he asks sheepishly, pinching the stretching fabric around your hips, “because… wow.” 

You bite your finger as if you were really thinking hard on this, hiding a smile, “you’re too much, Munson.”

“Too much?” he scoffs, pulling down your panties and settling himself between your legs, “you haven’t even seen my dick yet.”

You sit up, tits out and naked from the waist down, “well by all means, show me.”

“Greedy girl,” Eddie smirks, “did you bring me here just to get me naked? I’m appalled!” 

You move to your knees, sitting upright a bit so your face is level with his. You kiss him softly, moving to his neck and sucking just right to pull those deep moans from him that make your knees shake. 

Feather light touches skate along the expanse of his chest, working down down down until you’re undoing his belt, thumbing open the button on his jeans and yanking down his zipper.  

When your hand slides between him and his boxer briefs,  Eddie hisses, watching you pump him slow and tight. The feel of your smooth palm against his velvety shaft makes him almost cum right there and then, it’s been awhile since the last time. 

But you’re not hesitating or questioning yourself and he isn’t either. It’s almost fluid like a rocking wave the way Eddie lays you down, a team effort to swiftly shove down his jeans so you can finally feel eachother where the desperation is needed most. 

Legs hiked over his hips, he lines himself up with your gummy slicked entrance. It’s a deep and achy stretch for you, a vice grip for him. The lazy gasping moans you both emit are drawn out, yours practically breathless. 

“Holy fuck,” you breath into his mouth as he peppers you with kisses. He drags his hips out at a measured pace, pushing in just as unhurriedly, enjoying the way your body adjusts, cuffing him like a glove. 

Eddie breaks away from your lips to watch your bodies join together, moaning your name as he presses his forehead on yours collecting your mouth with his. 

“Shit…This okay?” he asks earnestly, nipping at your ear. 

You nod in gasping silence, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he speeds up. Your hands are skimming down his bareback, pressing him further into you with every thrust, begging him for more. 

He snakes a hand between you, rubbing circles in your puffy clit as he thrusts harder, trying to get you there before he loses all control. “Want you to feel good sweetheart, fuck— keep making those pretty little noises, you’re squeezin’ the hell outta me.” 

And he does. You cum hard around him, your walls fluttering and pulsing so fast you practically black out from the mixed pleasure of his fingers rubbing your clit and his cock stuffed in deep. 

His name falls from your lips in tiny little whines and he bucks into you a hard and final time before he groans, holding onto your headboard for support as he’s bottoming out, stringing rope after rope of hot spend inside of you. 

“Baby,” he whispers, “God—” he stops cold, realizing what he just did and what he didn’t do. “Oh shit, fuck fuck fuck! I didn’t pull out, I'm sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!

You laugh wickedly, your body shaking beneath him at his worried panicked face. 

He’s a babbling, out-of-breath mess, “’s not funny! I just got caught up in the moment and you felt so fucking good and I’m still a little dru—”

“Eddie, it’s fine,” you say, holding his cheeks with both hands squishing them together so his lips pucker like a fish, “I’m on the pill.” 

His face is still squished together when he speaks, “oh, well… okay.” 

“You’re fine,” you coo, coaxing him down from the ledge of regret and self hatred, “I—” you lean up and kiss him square on the mouth, licking into it and sliding your tongue against his, “I liked it.” 

His eyebrows disappear into his bangs and before he can open his mouth to speak you’re pulling him onto you kissing him deep and needy. 

The two of you end the night that way, him holding you, your hands in his hair, kissing so much your lips are chapped— never getting enough. Legs entangled together like a weaved basket. You fall asleep before he does, your little huffed breathing making his skin damp as you curl further into his chest. 

Wonder if Verizon is open tomorrow? He thinks when he remembers that his phone is definitely broke from it landing on the bathroom floor—but he’d never tell you that. 

He also wouldn’t tell you how he was supposed to go back to Steve’s tonight because they were leaving to see another old friend in California for the weekend— or how they needed to be at the airport by 2 AM for a 4 AM flight.  — or that Eddie was Steve’s ride because he lost his license in July. 

Nope.

He wouldn’t tell you any of it. None of that seemed to matter when you were sleeping so cute on his chest like that. 

When late morning comes you’re at it again, this time you’re riding him on the futon, slow like a twangy country song his hands rocking your hips. When you both finish you drag him to the showers, pumping some expensive shampoo into his hair and giggling when you tell him to be quiet so you won’t get caught. 

Steve called Eddie’s phone all night, and all morning, sending duplicate texts of rage, wondering where the fuck he had gone. 

Eddie silences the last call from Steve as you’re getting dressed, wearing a black pair of yoga pants and a zip up hoodie. He smiles when you offer to comb his hair, grabbing your wrist to pull you onto his lap kissing behind your ear. 

His voice is low, soothingly sweet and minty from your toothpaste as he asks, “can I take you to breakfast?” 

[dearest-nell]

here comes your man

s. harrington x f!reader, 2.1k

summary: you go to pick up your very drunk boyfriend from the bar after a well deserved night out warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, reader uses she/her pronouns

a/n: i was half asleep when i wrote this so all i can say is my bad, and i hope my three am deleirum brings you some joy

Hey… you might wanna come pick up your Stevie-Boy. He’s a bit wrecked...

It was a phone call you had half expected, though you didn’t mind admitting that you wished it had not come at 3am on your Saturday night. Steve had been so excited for a night out with the boys – work seemed to be piling onto him more than usual, and more often than not you’d find him half asleep on the couch by 8pm, arm propped uncomfortably beneath his head and back twisting awkwardly. This night came along with the extra TLC you prescribed him this week, taking on a little extra responsibility around the house so he might relax even just for a moment. Steve was a caretaker by trade, and doing things for himself seemed to hark back to a time where he only did things for himself. It took a lot for him to rewire that belief in his brain – self care did not mean selfish, he was a good person. 

You thought that the time out with his friends would remind him of that; how wonderful he was, how loved he was. He could be without responsibility for a night and simply enjoy himself. And enjoy himself he was… you hadn’t heard such an amused lilt to Eddie’s tone for a long time. You spent the drive over pondering just what kind of state your boyfriend might be in, your eyes heavy, body cooling with the iced air that blew through windows opened in an attempt to keep yourself awake. Eddie at least had sounded coherent, so you figured you would not be alone in the battle to try and haul your boyfriend into your beat up car. 

Dressed for the comfort of your own home, it took one disgruntled look towards a stubborn bouncer to let you past without paying an entry fee. You wondered how often this happened – half asleep partners turning up moments before closing to take their inebriated darling home. The thought made you chuckle softly to yourself, body weaving through the stragglers of the night still dancing to a wrapping up DJ. 

Eddie had told you they’d meet you by the lounges when you arrived, though Steve was nowhere to be seen as you approached your tired looking friend, his face pleased, if not a little weary. 

“Where is he?” You questioned, letting Eddie lean down to wrap his arms around you tightly, his weight pressing heavier on you that you had expected under the influence of what you assumed had been many, many shots. 

“At the bar. I thought he’d crashed half an hour ago, but he’s had a second wave.” 

You felt the short burst of laughter bubble up, an unsurprised uh-huh leaving your lips at the notion, eyes drifting towards the thinning crowd collected for the last call. Eddie let you go with a shrug, stepping back to let you go. 

“Alright, I’ll go get him. I’ll wave if I need you, ‘kay?” The nod you received was answer enough, and you set off leisurely towards your unsuspecting boyfriend. 

Steve was half hunched over the bar, palm rolling an empty shot glass flatly across the sticky surface as he waited for an already busy bartender. You couldn’t see his face, but you could picture the expression with such clarity – eyes heavy, blinking slowly as they tracked blearily across the back of the bar, that sweet, contented smile plastered on his lips for no reason at all. 

Following suit, you leaned yourself up against the bar beside him, elbows propping you up to rest your head in your palms. 

“You getting another drink, handsome?” 

Steve made a soft sort of mumbling sound, his head lulling to the side as he leaned away ever so slightly. “Mm, yeah… think so.” 

You nodded, smiling at the way he swayed on his feet. “Oh, I see. You wanna have some water with me?” 

Steve rubbed harshly at his face, eyes screwing shut tightly before blinking hazily at you. “No, thanks.” 

His gaze turned away, his grip on the shot glass faltering for a moment, reflexes only just catching it before rolling over the edge. You reached slowly to pluck it from his hand, though he recoiled sluggishly at the contact, forcing your brow up into a curious arch. 

“How about I take you home, then? Seems like they’re wrapping up.” 

Steve sighed, hands running through his hair in that same familiar flustered motion you were so acquainted with. Ordinarily, Steve would have been bouncing out of his skin to see you, but right now, he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else. 

“Look, it’s nice of you to ask, but ’m taken. My girlfriend’s comin’ to get me.” 

Oh, how sweet. You’d never seen Steve so far gone that he hadn’t recognised you, but now that you focused your own tired eyes, you could see that his own were barely open to begin with. Your smile widened, amusement settling over you at the sweetness of him. 

“Really? You’re not even gonna look at me? Maybe I’m worth breaking the rules for.” 

He scoffed at that, body straightening up as much as his addled state could allow, his feet stumbling beneath him to put another feet of distance between the two of you. 

“I’m sure you are f’someone else, but ‘m not interested.” His tone was more clipped now, friendliness falling away in the hopes of deterring you. “Not another girl in the world for me but her.” 

God, he was sweet, and more in love with you than you could have ever hoped for a person to be. Your heart ached, entirely overwhelmed with adoration for this man who was waiting for you. 

“Well that’s very lovely.” You cooed, turning sideways to look at him, one arm dropping to your side while the other hand continued to prop your chin up, helping to hide that rosy blush that seemed to stain your cheeks. “I really think you should look at me, though, Stevie.”

You watched as the thought crossed his mind, a slow understanding that something about this interaction seemed out of place. It seemed to take another moment for reality to set in, his body turning and eyes widening comically as they came into focus. 

“Honey!” 

It had you in hysterics, the way his arm gave out from under him, narrowly avoiding his torso from smacking down against the bar top as he lurched towards you. Your arms extended out to catch him, meeting him halfway until his body was pressed tenderly against yours, eager hands creeping up to cup your cheeks, holding your face towards his so he might really look at you. 

“You’re here!” 

Your laughter rang out happily, eyes crinkled at the delight mirrored in his own. 

“Yeah, baby, of course I am. Wanted to make sure you got home safe.” 

If an iris could change shape, then you were certain you saw Steve’s melt into delicate hearts just at the thought of you coming out to take care of him. His thumbs ran adoring lines across your cheekbones, trembling slightly with restraint. 

“S’good to me.” He mumbled, words drowning out within the still deafening music that surrounded you. “Missed you.” 

You felt him slump against you ever so slightly, still conscious of weighing too heavily against you even in his inebriated state, though how he was holding himself up anymore was anyone’s guess. It was your sign to wave Eddie over, though, who without fuss looped a supporting arm around Steve’s back. 

“You gonna let your girl take us home, then? I’m gonna pass out, man, I’m so wrecked.” 

Steve’s brow furrowed, alarmed to have been so suddenly pulled back from you to lean on Eddie, and he reached out a hand in a needy sort of motion towards you. “I wanna dance with her before we go.” 

Too sweet for his own wellbeing, you offered him a sympathetic look, slipping yourself under his other arm to help prop him up. 

“We can dance at home just you and me, okay? In our pjs too — won’t that be nice. We just don’t wanna keep Eddie waiting too long; he’s all danced out.” 

You watched the contemplative look cross his features, leaving him distracted enough for Eddie to start guiding the three of you towards the door without much fuss from Steve. 

“Did you have fun though Ed? Really?” Steve asked, genuine concern threading through his tone as he addressed his friend who managed an affirming nod in response. 

“Loads. We’ll all go out again soon, but I’ve gotta give you back to your sweetheart before she gets too jealous.” 

Steve’s nod was so serious as he processed the words, entirely missing the small look of amusement shared between you and Eddie as you pulled yourselves from the establishment. 

“Yeah.” He agreed, his head lulling sideways to rest on the crown of your own. “She needs me.” 

It had sounded like a joke when he said it, but even you could sense the small severity behind the words, almost reassuring himself of the truth behind them. Of course you needed him. 

“Yeah, she does.” You confirmed, kissing at his shoulder clumsily as you tried to focus on your steps, narrowly avoiding toppling the three of you right over uneven pavements underfoot. “I always need you, honey.” 

You did not need to look at Steve to know that he was smiling — you felt it as you held him, felt it in his touch and the heat of his body carefully wrapped around yours. At least this night felt like a success in your eyes. Steve was happy, and you had done your part to make him so. He’d be awfully hungover tomorrow morning, but he’d be happy, and that was all that seemed to matter to you in the moment. 

Eddie managed to hold Steve upright while you fiddled with the lock of your car door, the boy now contently distracted with regaling tales of the night to the man who had witnessed them first hand. Getting him into the car was easy enough, tucking him cautiously into the front seat, your body leaning over him to click his seatbelt into place, his hand lifting to rub at your lower back in thanks. 

“You’re the best, y’know, baby? The real best. The best best.” 

You paused to smile at him, head shaking in amusement before brushing your lips against his cheek, relishing in the way his hand gripped excitedly at you for the briefest of moments. “I could say the same about you, y’know.” 

“Nuh uh.” 

A groan sounded from outside the car, drawn out and exasperated beyond compare. “Jesus H Christ, I’m begging for someone to take me home. It’s so fucking late, guys.” 

You pulled back with a laugh to witness Eddie’s petulance, your hand coming out to gesture to the back seat. “Then get in the car, dingus, and I’ll take you home.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Steve slurred from the front seat, the battle against his weariness now long lost, eyes closed and head resting heavily against its back, unable to hold itself up any longer. 

Eddie clambered into the back with a half assed eye roll, splaying out across the work back seat until he, too, was one with the upholstery. “You guys aren’t gonna be gross and sayin’ i love you’s all the way home, are you?” 

Steve’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh shit, I haven’t said I love you yet!” 

The charming little frown that spread across his face was enough to melt you in your entirety, your hand reaching out to brush his check with affection, his nose nuzzling sweetly into the cup of your palm. “I’m not worried about it; I know you do.” 

“Yeah, but I do love you. I was thinkin’ it the whole time, thinkin’ you’re so pretty n’ all. So pretty that I couldn't remember to say it.” 

Eddie just huffed again in the back seat, his complaints overtly ignored despite the growing expletives.

“I love you too, Stevie. How about we get Eds home and get you some water, then we can be as sweet as we wanna be.” 

Steve’s lips pressed into your palm, his kiss unhurried and uncoordinated as the alcohol hindered his usual grace, a mumbled m’kay tickling your skin as he spoke. 

You looked up into the rearview mirror, dropping your hand to Steve’s knee for the boy to hold, keeping his neediness satiated for the time being as he grasped it between his own eagerly. “You hear that, Eds? You’re in the clear. Let’s get you boys home.” 

A grumbled thank god and the creaks of the backseat window being clumsily wound down was enough incentive to start your travels, a pleased smile gracing your lips to know that Steve had been given exactly the night he deserved after all. 

[clrasecretdiary]

Passenger princess | Spencer Reid x Best friend!Fem!Reader

Just our good old fluff

I loooove friends to lovers and this is 100% how i would try to confess my feeling if i ever was in this situation. Hope you guys like it!! <3

You guys had just finished a case and, since it was really close to home, the team ended up going back driving (Damn those budget cuts). To your luck, you and Spencer are going back together. 

After a particularly intense match of rock, paper & scissor – the only game you were able to beat the genius at – Spencer ended up being the one who drives, and you would do your favorite job – be the road trip assigned DJ. 

"Hey Spence, would you rather listen to the whole harry styles discography or Taylor Swift's?" You say, with a grin on your face

"Oh god, this is going to be a long drive" Spencer says, laughing lightly and starting the car engine and, as if it was instinct, putting one of his hands on your lap. The action, although recurrent between you two, still sent shivers down your spine and the lingering "What are we?" question came back to your mind. You brush it away quickly, not wanting to go back to thinking about that now. 

"Come on, honey, I know you love them deep down. But I'm not in that vibe today anyway" You say, putting something else on. 

You don't really know why, but you decide to put on the little romantic playlist that you have – you would never directly confess your feeling for your best friend, but if he heard the lyrics and figured it out by himself, well a win is a win. Dark red by Steve lacy, starts playing, and you sing along to it while using your phone, trying not to look at Spencer's face. 

"I know that song, it's really good" 

You turn your face to him, surprised that he knew the song, since he generally goes for…  Well, old people music (which is something you love about him). 

"Yeah, I love this one. It has umm… beautiful lyrics too" You say, in hopes that he would pay attention to them and take the hint. 

"Really? Never really paid attention to them." He says, reaching for the car display and putting the song back to the start, "Let's see" He says, imitating the one nerd emoji meme – something that he started to do, ever since you showed it to him and said "that's literally you". 

You rolled your eyes and laughed, you would find that to be extremely embarrassing if it was someone else, but on him, it was so cute.

You two went silent as the song started to replay, looking over to Spencer to catch his reactions, seeing his brow frown signing that he's focused. After a while, a small smile shows up on his face, and he starts to blush a little. 

After a while, you two arrive at the BAU, before getting out of the car Spencer turns to you

"Hey, would you like to grab dinner with me after we're done here, just the two of us?" 

Turns out, your plan worked. 

You smile to him 

"I would love to Spence" 

[ramp-it-up]

Greater

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Word count:~3K

Summary: You let Steve know how you felt about him leaving you hanging.

This is part two to Great.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, angst, secrets, sexual frustration,allusion to dildos, Captain/Sir kink, praise/degradation kink, tight t-shirt and grey sweats on Steve, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral, make receiving, face slapping. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

———-

Steve knew he should have avoided you when he came through the hotel lobby after his run to go back up to the room, but you eating breakfast solo on the terrace made him feel some kind of way. He watched as you gazed out over the Gulf of Genoa, feeling like a heel for leaving you in bed alone, but if he had stayed, you two would still be there.

Having you the way he did last night did not help his heart problem right now. You were taking up too much space in it, and he was afraid that the feeling wasn’t reciprocated. It couldn’t be. It was too soon for you. He’d fallen for you the moment he first saw you, and you didn’t even know when that was.

Your sister Aria, as clueless as she was, told your story: you hadn’t been with a man in a long time. Last night was just dumb luck for Steve, and physical need for you.

Being forced to stay in a space with such close quarters presented him the opportunity to get close to you, but it was disconcerting. He didn’t expect to be able to touch and kiss your most intimate places last night, but giving you pleasure was everything he’d dreamed of and more.

After putting you right to sleep, Steve felt a sense of accomplishment. But as he held you, he felt like a fraud, and soon escaped to go for a run on the beach to clear his head and calm his body.

Steve wanted nothing more than to give you more of the physical, which you clearly wanted. But what you needed was the truth. What he needed was your heart.

He looked down at his watch when he got a notification that Bucky had texted and planned to escape to the room, but when he looked back up, he was caught.

——

After you awoke in bed alone, you got out of bed and showered, frustrated. And why wouldn't you be?

Steve gave you the best head of your life last night, didn’t let you return the favor, and then ghosted you. You looked in the mirror and tried to figure out if your pussy was broken or something.

At least Jake appreciated it.

You nodded as you tried to convince yourself that a hunk of latex was sentient.

Aria texted you that she and Topher were staying in their suite today, and to reschedule the yacht ride. Your troubles were forgotten as you once again tried to move heaven and earth for your darling little superstar sister.

Aria’s change of plans, despite being a pain in the ass, was a definite plus. You could spend the day exploring this beautiful town on your own.

You sat on the terrace solo, after trying in vain to obtain another room in the sold out resort. You were torn between pettiness and being a simp for Steve Rogers. The sound of the ocean sent your mind drifting back to the night before, how good Steve’s hands and mouth felt on you. You shivered, and you felt the hair raise on the back of your neck.

You looked around, and finally, behind you, to catch Steve’s eyes, as blue as the Gulf, watching you. You gulped, and before you could stop yourself, waved him over. You saw him blanch, hesitate, but come over. You frowned.

He clearly couldn’t stand you, but you were going to set the record straight.

You weren't going to spend this whole week on pins and needles with him.

No way.

—--

Steve approached you hesitantly, squaring his shoulders to combat his nerves. He stood before you in military posture, hands behind his back. When you looked him up and down and raised your eyebrow, almost ready for anything, he couldn’t help the smile that began to form on his face.

You were trouble.

You watched Steve approach and your stomach did a somersault. Damn, he was fine. The sweat at the collar of his t-shirt, which was hanging on to his torso for dear life, was some kind of powerful magic. Your panties were about as damp. And when he stopped in front of you, perfect posture, cock so close, well, it took serious willpower to not get down on your knees in front of all these people.

You looked up at his sexy smirk. Damn him. You needed to know what was up.

“Morning, y/n. Did you sleep well?”

You crossed your legs, making his eyes follow the motion, and it was then that he gulped, fantasizing about reaching down and grabbing you up to take you back to bed.

“I slept very well, Steve, but did not wake up that way? Please, sit down. We need to talk.”

The words tumbled out before you had a chance to think, and you frowned.

Steve watched your face as he took a seat. You were not happy. And it was never a good thing when someone said that phrase. He had a feeling he knew exactly the way this conversation was going to go.

“I know what you are going to say, last night was a mistake. And I agree with you.”

“Oh?”

You exhaled as you sat back in your seat. That is not what you were going to say at all, but you were glad that Steve was coming out with what he really felt.

“We were caught up in the moment, jet lag, emotional…and I… I took advantage of that. I’m sorry.”

Steve looked up at the waiter who’d appeared and ordered water. You sipped your mimosa as you watched him, the red creeping up from his neck to his face, his cheeks flushed.

He was being genuine.

And sweet.

Being in the entertainment industry as long as you had, you learned to read people quickly.

“Taking advantage of me would entail making me suck your cock like I wanted to, Captain Rogers. Not you eating me out like a pro. I feel like I took advantage of you?”

Steve’s eyes got wide as he gulped down his water. He coughed.

You watched that tongue dart out and lick those ruby red lips after he caught his breath. Whew, that side smile. You began to take this as a challenge. Steve’s words didn’t match his actions right now, and you were determined to find out why.

His deep voice gave you a clue.

“‘D’you like that?”

The way Steve was looking at you right now was everything. You smiled and leaned forward, noticing how his eyes went to your cleavage. The way his pupils were blown told you more.

You were beginning to change your mind about how Steve Rogers felt about you. He at least wanted your body. You had power.

“Yes, Captain.”

Steve almost moaned. The way you looked, your sultry tone, the fact that you said ‘making you suck his cock.’ He cleared his throat as your words raced around his brain. ‘…like you wanted to…, Captain…’

Fuck, he was screwed.

He straightened up.

“I mean… that wasn’t cool…”

You straightened up as well, jutting your breasts out as if an invitation. Steve shifted in his seat. You were making things hard for him.

“No. No it wasn’t…”

You pouted, thinking of the way he left you hanging.

“Fix that face, y/n.”

Holy hell. That command. He did want you to hit the ground right there. But you had to push back.

“Hmmmm. I guess I’m supposed to say, ‘Yes, Sir,’ Or you’ll spank me like you promised…”

You smiled at him mischievously.

You were such a brat. You had to be stopped. Before he lost control again.

“I didn’t promise that, y/n…”

Steve’s voice was broken and he licked his lips before taking another drink of water.

“Oh? I thought you said that?”

You twirled your finger around the rim of your glass and then dipped two into your drink, placing them into your mouth and slowly pulling them out of those lips. Steve licked his in response

Steve knew what you were doing, but it was long past time to turn back now. Blood was rapidly leading his brain. He grunted unconsciously, determined to stay in control.

“I’m not doing this with you. I need to take a shower.”

Steve got up and stalked toward the elevators, and you sat, steaming, in your seat. You were shaking with emotion. You realized the true source of your frustration. You wanted Steve, you were sharing a room, and you were in a beautiful setting. You didn’t have to be a love match, but why not go for it?

You called the waiter over and asked him to charge your breakfast to the account.

~~~~~~~

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Steve wanted to pry them open to run back out to you. But space was the best answer right now. You were amping him up to do something reckless, something that would be irreversible. It was best that he kept his distance.

He entered the room and took off his shirt, going to the bathroom to turn on the water. He shook his head as he thought of you. You were such a menace.

When he turned around, there you were.

The look on Steve’s face was a little scary. You didn’t know if he was angry… or something else.

“....I need to get my…” Your eyes searched the bathroom. “...my lipgloss…”

You walked closer to him then turned toward the vanity and picked up a tube of your Glossbomb, leaning over toward the mirror, smearing a slick shiny across those lips.

Steve’s resolve began to crumble as he inhaled your scent and watched your lips shine. Your words came back to him. He wanted that mouth of yours.

You turned around.

“You didn’t answer my question, Captain.”

“What question was that, Doll?”

Steve moved closer to you, backing you up against the vanity. Your heart beat faster, but you pressed on.

“About the spanking…”

You felt dumb, but in a good way as Steve stared at you, seeing right through you. And then he smirked. He looked you up and down as he leaned forward and caged you in, hands on either side of you on the sink. Steam filled the room and came out of your ears.

“What I said was that I wanted to spank you when you were giving me attitude on the plane. Seems that was warranted. You don’t know when to stop.”

Steve’s voice broke as his breath fanned across your face. His mouth was so, so close to yours.

You sighed, and pouted again.

“I never stop, Captain. So does that make me a bad girl? I thought I was a good girl? It’s what you said last night.”

“I said that was a mistake.”

“What happened last night was a mistake, or saying that I’m a good girl?”

You were quick to reply as you cocked your head at him.

“Y’know, I wasn’t going to say that it was a mistake earlier. You put words in my mouth. That’s not what I want there…”

Steve slid his hand up your arm to your throat, and closed his fingers around it. It was nothing, almost, but enough to show you his power. You whimpered in his grip.

“You are maddening, you know that? You should leave well enough alone…”

You looked him in the eyes. You felt his hard cock against your stomach, even felt it jump as he searched your face and settled on your lips. You decided to try it.

“Let me go, and I’ll leave it alone… Don’t, and well, you can teach me how to be good again…”

Steve’s mind said to let you go, but it was his cock and his heart that made him do what he did next.

He whispered as he moved toward you, brushing the line of your jaw with his fingers. Your head was reeling from the sexy tone as you realized that he’d said, “Teach you a lesson…”

His lips slammed into yours, and his hands roamed your body, laying claim to what he wanted. You moaned as his tongue decimated you, letting him take what he wanted. When you separated, he asked you a question.

“What do you want in your mouth, y/n?”

“I want your cock in my mouth, Captain.”

“That sounds… “

Steve rested his forehead against yours. Your words gave him the image, and he couldn't resist. He cleared his throat again, then his blue eyes captured yours. Steel.

“Go sit on the edge of the bed…”

“Yes, Sir.”

The way he clenched his jaw had your pussy doing the same as you practically skipped to the next room and did as you were told. He was standing right in front of you again, running his palm down his hardness outside of his sweats. Your heart beat with anticipation.

You whined when he reached inside his sweats and pulled it out. It looked so big, so hard, the peach mushroom tip weeping and pretty, but big. You looked up at him with wide eyes.

The way you suddenly looked scared made Steve get even harder.

“You sure this is what you want?”

He was stroking his cock, and using his thumb to lubricate himself. He was restraining himself from touching you, but you didn’t know that, all that you saw was the sexy veins bulging down his arms as he jacked it in front of you.

“Y-yes…”

You reached for it and Steve moved closer, moaning when your small, cool hand closed around his hot throbbing staff. When you started pumping him was when his head started swimming.

“God, Doll…”

Your mouth fell open, those glossy lips a magnet for his cock. He didn’t know if you were leaning towards him, or if he were moving closer to you, but none of that mattered when your lips and tongue made contact.

He hissed at the sensation.

“SSsssss, y/n,”

He looked down at you as you stared up at him. You were entranced, his smell of musk and sweat was intoxicating.

“Those eyes. That mouth. Open. Wider.”

He had a grip on your chin, firmly pulling your jaw down to accommodate him.

As you kept eye contact, you saw a ferality that made you shiver. You wanted that look on you forever. You tried to unhinge your jaw as Steve slid his smooth cock inside your mouth.

He stopped once your mouth was full, but you continued, allowing his access to your throat.

“Ohhhhh. So goood...”

Steve pulled out of your mouth and stuck two fingers in, watching as you licked and sucked them, pumping his wet cock with your hand.

“That mouth. You’re not giving me any sass now, are you?”

He held your chin again and looked you in the eye, lighty slapping your jaw.

You gasped, then smiled and shook your head as you eagerly sucked along the side of his dick.

“No, Sir,” you replied, your mouth full of Steve.

You stuck your tongue out and deep throated him bobbing slowly as you pumped him with your hand.

“Go ahead. Get sloppy with it.”

You spit on his dick as you went to town, going faster when Steve gathered your hair in his hand and moved you at his preferred pace.

“Look at me when you do that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, thighs clenching at his tone.

“Look at you. Are you a slut for this cock already?”

You pulled off with a plop to spit again.

“Yes, Captain.”

And you started glugging him, moving your hand and making Steve’s knees weak.

“Holy Fuck, that’s good. Yessss.”

You smiled at the praise and started jacking him against your outstretched tongue.

“Yes, yes, yessss. Suck the tip again. That fucking mouth.”

You did as you were told, taking him inside and jacking what didn’t fit.

Steve started moaning and pulled your hair so that you looked up at him.

“Stop if you don’t want my cum in your mouth.”

You jacked him even faster.

“I want it, Captain..”

You slapped his cock against your lips and then resumed sucking as Steve grunted and buried his fingers in your hair.

“So… fucking… good… good girl…fuckkk! I’m cumming. Dirty girl. That mouth is so damn good.”

Steve was full of contradictory praise as he held his balls and you jacked his cock fast, allowing your mouth to make the most pornographic sounds around him.

“Oh! Oh shit ohshit oooooh oooohh shitttttt!”

You slowed down when you felt the first spurt against your tongue and you let it fall out of your mouth. Steve was hypnotized as he took his cock and pumped it into your mouth as you swallowed.

“What a dirty little girl. Good girl gone bad. You love this, don’t you?”

You nodded as you swallowed, your eyes tearing as the cum squirted into your throat.

“Fuuuuuucckkkk.”

Steve was profane as he watched you swallow it all and clean him up.

“That was amazing, Doll. Thank you.”

He reached down and traced your swollen lips with his thumb. He knew what you wanted, what you needed next. But there was really no turning back from that.

“I think we’re even now. I’m going to go take that shower.”

Steve turned and went back into the bathroom, leaving you to wonder which was greater, your need or your pride.

———

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[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 10/12)

helloooo, here are these two messy cuties once again, i hope you enjoyyy

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: time is almost up but who could deny a good karaoke session?

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, sexual themes, slight angst, those awkward/cringey scenes where they're singing (i apologize in advance), and lots of mixed feelings <3

word count: 3.9k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

song inspo for this chappy hehe:

Steve and Robin love karaoke. 

Nancy had warned you that the friendly pair practically fiend for a good karaoke sesh, but you hadn’t expected them to be as enthusiastic as they turned out to be.

For some odd reason, the city seems less busy today, so you, Eddie, and Eddie's friends can take up as much room as you’d like on the sidewalk. 

In front of you, Robin and Steve are seriously debating what the first song on the queue will be. Walking just a few paces behind them is Nancy, who’s quietly taking in the city's bright lights; and next to you, palm burning a hole through your hand with his addicting touch, is Eddie.

It’s stupid, you think. The way Eddie has seen you stripped down and bare, whining and quivering for him at what could arguably be your most vulnerable state, yet you still find your heart racing 100 miles a minute with this soft gesture of holding hands.

Sure, you’ve held his hand before, but not for this long. Not in public when it’s not the heat of the moment and you’re simply walking around. It’s weird and new, and it makes your stomach twist in a good way, but fuck— you chicken out when Robin and Steve turn to face you, Nancy, and Eddie.

“Steve wants to start karaoke with Queen— like any karaoke amateur would.” Robin huffs as Steve rolls his eyes. You slip your hand from Eddie’s hold before either of them can clock the gesture, and you avoid looking at Eddie when he clears his throat.

“Because it’s the perfect opener!” Steve stresses. “Everybody always does, Queen, Steve! Plus, I’m not even sure I can physically pull through with how long their songs are.” Robin argues. 

Steve’s jaw dropped as if Robin had just said the most foul thing he’d ever heard, “Their songs are not that long. And even if they are, they’re fucking amazing, so what’s your point.” “My point is we’re not starting the night with Queen.”

They’re an interesting group of friends, you’ll admit. Interesting in the sense that you swear they could be a part of some sitcom with how funny and unpredictable their conversations and interactions are.

By the time you reach the karaoke bar, Steve and Robin have an entire list of songs mentally queued up, and they make a beeline to the DJ operating the music as you and Nancy snag a table towards the middle of the room. The bar is to one side of the room while the stage is at the front, and the DJ booth is at the back; the rest of the room is full of tables where people chatter, laugh over drinks, and sing along with whoever is currently doing their performance. Eddie had split off to get drinks the second you entered the bar, so it’s just you and Nancy as you settle at the wooden table.

“Are you going to sing?” Nancy questions from the other side of the table. You pull a face, shrugging your shoulders up to your ears, “I’m not sure, maybe once I get a few drinks in me. How about you?” Nancy softly laughs with a playful roll of her eyes, “Unfortunately, I doubt Robin will let me escape this one.”

As if summoned, Robin slides into the seat right next to Nancy. “I put you down together, but there’s a few people ahead, so start thinking of the song you’ll sing.” She gestures between you and Nancy. You shrug, accepting defeat, and before you can pitch an idea for a song to Nancy, Robin is leaning her elbows against the table and blinking at you, “So, let’s cut to the chase. What’s going on between you and Eddie?” She asks.

Nancy’s eyes widen as she instinctively jabs her elbow into Robin’s ribs, “Ow!” “Rob, you can’t just ask people that— god.” You softly laugh as Robin rubs at her sore side. “Sorry if I’m interested in keeping tabs on my friend!” Robin sarcastically argued.

Nancy rolls her eyes and sends you an apologetic look. “Look, I’m just guessing— based on the fact that you two were in the back of a fancy restaurant— that something is going on. Oh— unless this is, like, a business thing, then you can totally ignore me.” Robin rambles.

“Robin,” Nancy stresses. Your cheeks seem to ache from the amused expression on your face as Nancy turns to you, “You don’t have to answer either way since it’s none of our business.” She says, voice raising near the end as she glares at Robin. Robin rolls her eyes, and you laugh with a shake of your head as you shift in your seat. “No, it’s fine, I understand, but um,” You shrug, “It’s just a business thing.” You finally answer.

And, technically, you’re not wrong. There is a business transaction going on between you and Eddie… and the rest of the band, which is primarily the basis of your relationship, but you’re not sure how appropriate it would be to say, ‘Yeah, I mean, Eddie hated me, but now he doesn’t, so then we fucked yesterday but then his manager basically told us to squash whatever that was, so now we’re kind of in a weird spot because we don’t hate each other but we can’t like each other. Oh yeah, and here’s the kicker, Eddie’s been a total asshole this entire time, and it’s fucked with my head a bit. But apparently, he wants to change!’

It’s a colorful mess of loopholes and twists and turns that probably nobody will fully understand aside from you and Eddie, so…. business thing it is. 

Robin seems to take that as an answer, but Nancy is now intrigued by your tone, “That didn’t sound very sure.” She playfully raises a suggestive eyebrow. Robin hums, “What happened to it being none of our business?” She points out, to which Nancy just waves a dismissive hand in response. “It’s a business thing, but…” Nancy prods. Your face warms as you lift your shoulders in a shrug, “I mean, it’s… it’s complicated.” 

Nancy nods with a shrug as she shifts in her seat, “So, how did you two meet?” 

You take a deep breath as you lean to rest your elbows on the table, “Well, I’m a writer for Rolling Stone magazine—” Robin gasps, grabbing your attention, “No shit? Nancy’s a journalist too— ow!” She turns to look at Nancy with a disgruntled look as she rubs her thigh, “Would you stop bullying me?” She frowns.

Before either of them can get far into bickering, Eddie and Steve come waltzing back to the table with drinks in their hands. Eddie snags a seat beside you and passes a drink to you; you smile as you gratefully take the glass and softly thank him. Steve plops down next to Robin, sliding her and Nancy their drinks as he says, “Alright, I hope everyone has their songs picked out because I plan on battling each and every one of you.”

Although the weather outside is on the more chilly side of summer days, you find your body warm with liquor and laughter as you, Nancy, and Eddie watch a tipsy pair of Steve and Robin sing a surprisingly good rendition of Huey Lewis’ Heart and Soul. You’ve shrugged off your sweater and tossed it over the back of your chair— and you’re thankful to have thrown on a tank top underneath because, most of the time, you hardly bother to wear anything beneath sweaters.

It’s their fourth song of the night, Eddie and Nancy have both gone up at least once, but you’ve been on the observant side mostly, enjoying the ongoing conversations you’ve had with Nancy. There’s a bowl of chips and salsa in the middle of the table, and Eddie’s arm is draped across the back of your chair, heat pouring from him and seeping all around to wrap you up in an Eddie-scented bubble— it’s nicer than you’d care or like to admit.

Nancy has turned around to watch and cheer on the performance; she’s become more animated and loose after a few drinks, and you laugh as Robin practically serenades her from the stage. You lean back in your chair, softly giggling as you slightly lean into Eddie, “So,” you grab your drink and glance at the boy on your side, “What’s the dynamic here?” You ask with a jut of your chin towards his friends.

Eddie hums, leaning further into his chair, and in turn, pressing himself closer to you. His breath is warm against your ear and cheek, curly strands brushing against your skin as he speaks, “So basically,” He dramatically sighs, and you smile at his dramatics as he gestures between his friends, “Nancy and Steve are exes from high school and Robin and Steve are best friends.” You nod, gaze darting between the friends as you connect the dots. “But,” He raises a finger over his glass, “Robin and Nancy are dating now.” Your eyebrows raise at the full circle of events, but you nod as your suspicions are finally confirmed. 

Eddie leans closer, voice dropping to a lower volume, “But at this rate, it’s safe to say Nancy’s playing third wheel for Steve and Rob since they practically share one brain cell.” You tilt your head, “Okay, I see it now.”

Nancy glances over her shoulder to glare at you and Eddie from her seat, “I heard that, assholes… you’re not wrong.” She grumbles. You and Eddie laugh as she turns back to face you both now that Steve and Robin are hopping off the stage.

“Steve’s actually seeing a girl now; she’s in nursing school.” Nancy pipes up, grabs a chip, and pops it into her mouth. Eddie leans forward at that, keeping his arm on your chair as he uses the other to grab a chip for himself,  “Nursing school?”

Nancy nods as she sips her drink, “He goes down to see her like every other weekend. And they run our phone bill up like hell.” 

Robin plops down into her seat, “What are we talking about? Steve’s hot nurse babe?” She asks, humming when Nancy nods. Robin scoffs as she turns to Eddie, “Can you believe they’ve been dating for, like, four months, and we have yet to even see a picture of her? They see each other every week!”

Eddie snorts, “Then who’s he talking to on the phone?” Robin shrugs, “Who knows at this point.”

Steve returns as if on cue, sitting down with a sigh as he glances at the table, “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing, just talking about your imaginary girlfriend.” Robin teases.

Steve groans, eyes rolling before glaring at his giggling friends— your cheeks hurt from smiling. “She’s real, okay? She’s real, and her name is Cassie, and the only reason you haven’t met her yet is because she’s literally in nursing school— she has a busy schedule!”

And although you wish Eddie and you had been able to finish your discussion without the abrupt interruption, you find yourself growing fond of this shade of Eddie— sure, you’ve seen him having fun and being unapologetically himself with Gareth and Jeff and even on stage, but this side of Eddie is softer— kinder, brighter— homey. 

You realize as you watch him singing his heart out to some mainstream pop song that Steve somehow talked him into doing. You’re more surprised that Eddie knows the lyrics, but you’re too tipsy to dwell on it because Nancy’s scooting onto the chair beside you and asking what song you two should sing because, “We have to outsing them, obviously.”

And, well, you hardly have the time to stop your lips before you lean in and tell her the song you’d like to sing. Nancy snickers, giggling at the obvious undertone of the chosen song, and she eagerly agrees because “He’s gonna shit his pants.”

You go back and forth on who will take which role— who will sing Tom Petty’s key, and who will sing Stevie Nicks's key— but then you eventually land on just singing together for the entirety of the song. When the boys finish their song, Nancy drags you up to the DJ to request the song and magically persuades him to let you skip the queue of people to go next. She’s a good flirt, that’s indisputable.

You should probably thank Nancy at some point for agreeing to this song regardless of how little information she has about your situationship with Eddie, but before you even get the chance to, you and Nancy are already singing the first line of the song— Baby, you'll come knocking on my front door. Same old line you used to use before— and well, Eddie’s head has never turned his head faster, but you avoid his gaze for as long as you can.

And you’re doing good; you’re doing so good, and then you get to the second chorus and lock eyes with Eddie as you sing along to the track with Nancy— Baby, you could never look me in the eye. Yeah, you buckle with the weight of the world. Stop draggin' my, stop draggin' my, stop draggin' my heart around— and, well… you think you made your point clear.

You and Nancy have a blast singing to Nicks and Petty, and when the song ends, the bar claps and cheers as they do after every performance, and you’re all smiles as you waltz back to the table, sitting next to the fidgeting boy you’d just indirectly serenaded. Steve and Robin are telling you and Nancy how well you did and teasing each other over specific parts of the performance, and they’re all so caught up in one another that they hardly notice as Eddie leans into your space, voice low and gravely as he speaks, “That was cruel, princess.”

You look at him, eyes falling to the ghost of a smirk that dances across his lips before you reach forward to grab your drink, wrapping your lips around the thin, black straw, maintaining eye contact as you shrug, “Did you get the hint?” You tease.

Eddie huffs around a laugh, shifting in his seat, left arm back to barricading the back of your chair, and you don’t fail to notice the tent in the crotch of his jeans. He rolls his tongue over his teeth, snickering when you raise an eyebrow, “Yeah… Yeah, I got the hint.” He nods, and you think you might see a pink tint dusting across his cheeks.

You smile, liquor making you bold as you blink up at him, “Good.”

It’s a long trip to the hotel with a pair of drunk best friends.

They ramble a lot— Steve and Robin— you come to find out, and Nancy and Eddie have become experts at handling them with ease. You realize this as you watch them get their friends tucked into bed. Nancy is tipsy, but Eddie informed you that she has a weird thing with tequila where she becomes highly functioning, so she’s moving about the room with grace and precision.

When the drunk pair is finally tucked into bed, Nancy walks you and Eddie to the door of the hotel room, thanking you for taking the time to make sure they got in safe. “I would say see you at breakfast, but I doubt these two will have crawled from the grave by then.” Nancy gestures back to Robin and Steve. 

You don’t blame them; they’re basically on holiday, and you would do the same.

Your and Eddie’s rooms are on a different floor, and it’s a long ride up to the top, especially with the burning desire for one of you to say something— what, you’re not sure.

“I like your friends.”

That was you talking, you realize when Eddie turns to you with a smirk, “Yeah? They didn’t scare you off with their incessant shithead behavior?” He jokingly questions. You hum with a laugh, “I’ve dealt with worse.” You tease.

Eddie walks you to your room, his intoxicating smell and presence hovering around you as you unlock the door before stepping in. You turn around, hand resting on the edge of the door as you look at the curly-haired boy, “Good night, Eddie.”

Eddie hums, leaning against the door frame, eyes flickering to the twist of your mouth before reaching your eyes again, “Not gonna finish our conversation?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “I hardly believe you’d be doing much talking if I let you in right now.” And you don’t think you’re ready to travel down that path again. Not so soon when you have the events of tonight to digest, not to mention the gift sitting in your bag.

Eddie shrugs with a small smirk, “I can multitask.”

His gentle smile is beautiful. Alluring and unique, and his eyes are taking you with such an intensity that you think you might melt if you stay a minute longer. “I didn’t choose that song for the hell of it, you know?” You ask. “Stevie’s got a mean fucking range. Lord knows if I’ll be covering her again.” You grumble. And really, how high can the woman go with her rasp?

Eddie laughs, turning his head and glancing at the empty hallway before looking back to you, “Yeah, I know,” He softly replies.

You nod and he takes a deep breath, nodding towards your bag slung over your shoulder, “Listen to the tape.” He reminds you.

You tilt your head, clenching the strap of your bag before speaking, “Are you under the impression that this would make up for everything?” You ask.

And you don’t mean for it to sound harsh or hurt his feelings, but you have to let him know that if that’s what he’s hoping, then he’s wrong. This doesn’t fix everything. This doesn’t fix the confused feelings and the harsh words. It’s a start, but it’s not a finish as well.

And although Eddie’s expression falters, he shakes his head, “No. But I still want you to listen.”

You nod quietly, gazing at each other and wishing you could start on a different foot. You clear your throat, straighten your stance, and step back. “Good night, Eddie.” You softly say.

By the time you finish showering and getting ready for bed, the only thing running on your mind is the pending need to sleep. The maids had changed out the seats so they’re not doused with the ghost of Eddie’s cologne and shampoo— but you don’t go long with Eddie out of your mind because there’s a hard object that pokes into your arm when you settle into the bed.

You groan, twisting your arm around your frame to dig out the small object from below you, and when your fingers wrap around the plastic case, you immediately remember the task you’d had for tonight— listen to the tape.

The sleep that weighed down on your body is suddenly gone as you sit up to grab your walkman and headphones before settling back into the comfy sheets.

You try your best to ignore the swirling feeling of nerves and excitement in your gut as you put on your headphones and slip the tape in, but you find yourself nipping at the skin of your nails as the tape winds either way.

It’s silent for a moment, the sound of shuffling and the soft thud of what you think might be someone setting a glass down. There’s a clearing of a throat— it’s Eddie, you can tell— and your stomach twists in anticipation at the first ring of a piano chord. 

The beginning chords are soft and slow, gentle enough to lull you to sleep if you sink into it, and the recording is so vivid that you can hear the dull thud of each key beneath the press of his fingers.

Your heart races when Eddie’s voice seeps into the melody. It’s a ballad, something Corroded Coffin doesn’t have much of, and you wonder why because the softness of Eddie’s voice is arguably one of the most heavenly sounds to have ever touched your ears.

I'm feeling a way, off some kinda drug

Maybe it's lust, maybe it's love

I know I said I'd straighten out a week ago

I'm fiending though, 'bout to reach my peak, you know

The city's got me falling now

It’s… fuck, it’s fucking good, and you haven’t even gotten to the chorus, but god, your heart skips a beat at the following line because it’s a direct callout to you.

I'm fading away, I'm losing my head

I know you said leave, but fuck what you said

As much as you wish you could say you hate it… you don’t.

Even though the song is about you and your twisted relationship with Eddie— which definitely aids to your feelings towards the track— it’s genuinely a good song. Which, okay, is slightly annoying, but you can’t find it in yourself to care as the song carries on.

The future's never looked so bright, it's blinding me

It's hard to see, I'm swimming through dopamine

Your body looks like heaven and

I wanna give up, I just wanna leave

I'm floating away, I'm caught in the breeze

The outro of the song comes and slows down, a softer sound than before filling your ears, and shit— you’re at the edge of your seat now because Eddie is singing so gently, and it has your mind swirling. 

I can't believe this is happening

What did I do? What did she do to me?

…

Mending my brain again

Please don't give up on me

This hurts tremendously

How will this end for me?

When the song dies off, you can hear shuffling again before the track ends, and you’re left with spinning thoughts as you take your headphones off and let the silent and dark room envelope you.

You have to take a moment, yanking the string of the bedside lamp to light up the room so you can see your thoughts more clearly because— how do you feel? You’re not sure, honestly, and the thud of your heart beating in your chest only clouds your judgment even more because— isn’t this what you asked for? For Eddie to be open and honest with you, to tell you his true feelings and where he’s at when it comes to you. And is it enough?

Would it ever be enough for Eddie to give you one simple, stripped-down track to allow him the chance to mend what he’d ruined? 

Your heart wants it to be enough, but realistically, it’s not. Eddie has only just begun his journey to forgiveness, and you have to remind yourself that it’s not wrong to be hesitant to let him in, neither is it bad for you to want him as badly as you do. You’re both learning, and you’re both trying to fix the damage that’s been done, and it might take time, but if you both want it— if Eddie really wants you— then the time and work it takes to fix things won’t be a bother.

You listen to the song two more times, maybe more than twice, and you let the words sink into your bones until you practically have it engraved into your mind, lulling yourself to sleep with the haunting echo of Eddie’s voice and words bouncing in the walls of your skull.

And in your dreams, you meet Eddie, and for the split second you have with him there, everything is perfect— and by the time you wake up, the ticking time bomb to make your choice is now louder than it’s ever been before.

————

part eleven

————

a/n: OMG HIII, you made it to the end again !!! i would just like to specify that the song eddie has written and sang for birdie in this chappy (23 x chase atlantic) is not entirely a nod towards their relationship! reader is not specifically 23 years old nor is she struggling with any type of substance abuse, the lines that were used in this chapter are the lines that actually adhere to them imo, OKAY I THINK U GET IT I'LL SHUT UP NOW.

also, this is not the last of the songs that eddie has written abt birdie btw🫣

i hope u enjoyed and i love love love reading any and all feedback as well as ur silly thots <3 AND AS ALWAYS, TY FOR READING, I LOVE U SO BIG MWAH <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn @mossiswriting

[longwuzhere]

Some cool Easter eggs I caught watching My Adventures with Superman that I want to show to people so they can be in on it with comic book readers pt2

Episode 1 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 6 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Episode 8 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 9 of My Adventure with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

(SPOILERS obviously):

An obvious one, but a classic, the "up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's Superman!" line reference. This one never gets old.

Jimmy next name drops Flamebird. in the comics Nightwing and Flamebird were Kryptonian superheroes adopting their names from a species of Kryptonian birds. This is where Dick Grayson gets his Nightwing identity from. The page here is from Who's Who: The Definitive Directory of the DC Universe #17 (1986) drawn by Curt Swan and Karl Kesel.

At the climatic battle of part 2 of Adventures of a Normal Man, we see Leslie Willis become blue and look more like her traditional Livewire look. Her first appearance was in Superman the Animated Series, season 2 episode 5 "Livewire" where she was voiced by Lori Petty, a.k.a. Tank Girl. In the show Leslie was a shock jock radio DJ slinging hot takes live on air knocking down Superman a peg or two

Obviously MAwS took Leslie in a whole different direction, design choice, and occupation change, but I am excited to see what happens next for her.

Before we see Clark battle Leslie we see this guy. White hair, wears orange and black, its Slade Wilson a.k.a. Deathstroke. This fool here in like 20 to 25 years will have his life spiral out of control and get his ass kicked by a bunch of colorfully dressed teenagers.

Deathstroke makes his first appearance in New Teen Titans #2 (1980) (W: Marv Wolfman and George Perez, P: George Perez, I: Romeo Tanghal, C: Adrienne Roy, L: Ben Oda) where he is hired by H.I.V.E. to kill the Teen Titans. In the comics he's a major piece of shit, but a damn good assassin.

After the fight we see Supes clean up and he picks up a billboard that reads Amazotech.

This is a good reference to Professor Anthony Ivo, a mad scientist of the DC Universe who built the Amazo robot who could adapt and replicate any power that the Justice League has and weaknesses. Both Ivo and the Amazo robot make their first appearances here in Brave and the Bold #30 (1960) with the cover art done by Mike Sekowsky and Murphy Anderson.

At the end of the episode Slade name drops Task Force X better known as the Suicide Squad. The name "Suicide Squad" is from the Brave and the Bold #25 where it was the name of Rick Flag's unit in the military. The Suicide Squad pop culture knows first debuted in Legends #3 (1987) as seen below (W: John Ostrander and Len Wein, P: John Byrne, I: Karl Kesel, C: Tom Ziuko, L: Steve Haynie).

The team at this time was composed of Rick Flag, Bronze Tiger, Captain Boomerang, Deadshot, Enchantress, and Blockbuster. The team members have changed out with each new Task Force X/Suicide Squad iteration.

Behind Slade, here is Amanda Waller, the most fearsome woman in the DC universe. She's ruthless, politically powerful, and will not hesitate to blow up anyone in the Suicide Squad if they screw up. She makes her first appearance in Legends #1 (1987) same comic series in the previous picture. Very excited to see where My Adventures with Superman goes with this cuz you don't see Superman interact with Deathstroke or Suicide Squad all the often.

Link to Episode 1 of My Adventures of Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 6 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Link to Episode 8 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 9 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Link to Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

[deadjam6]

Can you even tell he is William Afton anymore (ginger woman is my gf's oc)

[vapekingg]

Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader Fluff/angst 18+ for suggestive mentions WK - 4.3k TW for homophobic slurs Closeted reader and Robin, first kiss, first date, drive in date, Steddie setting up Robin and reader.

The overhead bell at Family Video dinged above you as you pushed your way into the air conditioned storefront.

“Right on time.” Steve said from the checkout counter. 

He was glancing down at his watch, boyfriend and best friend huddled around him as usual. You’d made a habit of checking out two or three movies every week just to have an excuse to wander over from your job at the record shop next door. 

“I take lunch at two o’clock every day, dingus.” You replied. 

Robin couldn’t help but to smile. She’d noticed you’d picked up that nickname for Steve after hearing her call him it a time or two. 

But she couldn’t smile for too long. Couldn’t let her eyes linger too heavily on the fray of your denim shorts — or more accurately, the flawless skin that sat just beneath it like a colliding estuary. Couldn’t let you know that she adored you in that way. 

Robin took a step back when you approached the counter. Sometimes she felt scared to even be around you, like you could smell the fag shedding off of her. As if she was sickly. Contagious. That’s what people would say behind her back if they knew. 

“Got anything new in?” You asked while sliding Steve the VHS you’d barely had for twenty-four hours. 

“Since you came in yesterday?” He cocked an eyebrow, “No.” 

“New release at the drive-in tonight though. Elm Street 4.” Eddie mentioned from your side of the desk. It was so miserable out that even he’d shed the leather jacket you typically saw him wearing, settling for a simple all black get up with that telling bandana hanging out the back of his jeans. 

“Eh, let me know when it comes in. Last time I went to the drive-in alone some high schooler tried to hop in my passenger seat and cop a feel.” You mentioned. 

You were content with watching re-runs on television late into the night while curled up on your sofa, you supposed. But a part of you wished you could just ask Robin to accompany you to that fucking movie. 

“No goddamn way she’s not into chicks,” your co-workers told you to every time you came back from leaning over that fucking service desk during your half hour lunch. “She hangs out with Steve and Eddie all day, for fuck’s sake!”

Fuck, how you wished you could believe it as easily as they did. Even if you did believe it, it was easier just to protect your ego. 

What if you made a move and she wasn’t into it? Would she recoil like she’d been shocked by a live wire? Maybe she’d use one of those hurtful words that you’d only heard while kissing girls outside of bars in the city. It was less painful to not take the chance. At least this way you could admire her from afar — on your lunch break, while she was dressed in that adorable uniform that fit her so well. 

“Why don’t you go with her, Robin?” Steve said, ripping you out of your daydream and forcing fear up your spine like the knived fingers of Krueger himself. “You love the Elm Street movies.”

Robin’s baby blues widened from sudden anxiety. She used them to stare at Steve frantically, as if he hadn’t been the one to just thrust her into this situation in the first place. Instead, all she received from him was raised eyebrows and a humored smile while her own mouth failed to produce words. 

“I, uh—” Robin stuttered, “I think I close tonight, actually!”

“Negative. Harrington closes tonight.” Eddie replied with cheek. Of course he had his own boyfriend’s work schedule down pat. God only knows how they defiled that check-out counter once Robin left those two alone in the evenings. 

You cocked an eyebrow at her. The way your bubblegum peeked out from between your teeth when your lips parted into a smile had her wondering how sugary sweet it tasted — how sugary sweet you tasted. 

“Don’t wanna be seen in my hatchback, Buckley? I’ll let you play DJ on the way there.”

Robin could feel the blood pumping through her veins. Every beat of her heart became so increasingly violent she could hear it in her ears. Of course she wanted to sit shotgun to you while you toted her around, but even the occupation of passenger princess came with its anxieties. What music to play, directions to give, do you hold a conversation or is that too distracting?

“Yes.” She burped out, and it sounded much like a bubble popping or a bullfrog croaking late in the night. All three of you looked at her with confusion. 

“Yes, what?” You asked. “Yes, we’re going?”

“Ye—yeah, that. Let’s go!” She continued after flitting her eyes to Steve and then immediately away. “I get off at six, movie starts at seven. Pick me up at my house?”

She followed the question with that nervous, adorable half-smile you often saw — and adored — right after she did something embarrassing, but there was no excuse to be embarrassed here. 

“Okay.” You said with disbelief. “Okay, yeah. You live off of Rosewood, right?”

She nodded through a broken grin and you began backing up toward the door. There was still plenty of time left on your lunch break, but suddenly Family Video felt even hotter than late August in Indiana and you needed air. Why was there no air in this goddamn building?

“Great,” you said in time with the bell above the front door. “Cool. I’ll be there.”

**********

“Cool, you finally asked her on a date!”

“I didn’t ask her on a date,” you told Mitch, your coworker, for the fifth time. “And I don’t even think it’s a date! Harrington kinda just set us up on some weird playdate like moms do with their socially awkward kids so they can get some alone time.”

You’d been trying for the past two hours to sort through the boxes of new inventory, but with your brain so scrambled, Blondie and Bowie read the exact same. Besides, you couldn’t get that adorable pout out of your head. The way Robin had looked so pitiful when she’d realized you were making an abrupt escape from such a sticky situation.

Sticky, because sometimes being queer felt like a glue trap sitting on your skin. Like you were a little mouse frantically trying to pull yourself free, or a fly hanging midair on a strip of paper. Sometimes you thought it might kill you.

“What’re you gonna wear?” Tiffany asked from behind the register. 

You looked down at your sprawled out form, comfortable and covered in records on the floor of the shop.

“This?”

“That?” She asked again. “You look like fucking Munson.”

It was true that you and Eddie shared a few qualities, at least when it came to style. The frayed hem of your shorts tickled your thighs and was mostly chosen for aesthetic purposes, but the cut off sleeves of your Iron Maiden t-shirt were purely practical. It was too goddamn hot to not show a little skin. 

“Robin dresses like a fucking dad. I’m wearing this, Tiff.” You reiterated.

Tiffany shrugged and went back to her counting, as if to say something along the lines of, “It’s your funeral.”

You stood in front of your mirror after your shift that afternoon.

Would it be your funeral if you wore the same outfit you’d been seen in earlier that evening? Maybe Robin didn’t like the way you dressed. If she didn’t like your cut offs, this very well could be the death of something that hadn’t even started yet. 

You held up top after top in front of your chest, shorts after shorts before your waist and nothing seemed perfect. You wouldn’t wear a dress to the movies with a straight girl – which is all that you could assume Robin was, and all she could assume you were as well. So you remained in your cut off shorts and Iron Maiden tank top while sliding your sunglasses off of your forehead to face the blinding late afternoon rays. Grabbing your keys off of the counter seems like a battle in and of itself, as if holding them in your hand meant that you had to get in your car and make a fool of yourself, but you combated that thought by snatching them up quickly. Hardly giving yourself enough time to talk yourself out of the date that you’d been set up on. 

But calling it that was dangerous. Presumptions got people killed. That’s what Steve and Eddie and Tiffany and Mitch failed to understand. 

You’d heard the stories in the city. They were talked about loudly while you flirted with girls at gay bars in Indianapolis — how another queer teenager had been killed, a casualty of the growing “gay panic” that seemed to be the excuse of every homophobic, bloodthirsty meathead that was looking for an excuse to rough someone up. 

Those thoughts faded away with the roar of your engine, and soon you were heading down Peony Circle, then Dahlia Street, and then Rosewood Drive. You recognized her house from the many birthday parties your mother had forced you to go to as a kid, until birthday parties became uncool — or at least until Robin stopped handing out invitations. 

She was waiting outside for you. And Jesus Christ, the way she knocked her knees together while sitting on the front steps of her porch caused you to pump the brake just a little bit harder. 

You liked Robin’s freckles the most. You liked how they didn’t stop at her cheeks, rather decorated her body in constellations. Even her shins and arms. Now that she was out of her Family Video uniform and adorned in a more comfortable pair of shorts and tank top, you could see the spots splattered across her chest, too, and that alone made heat fill your face. 

“I think I prefer your uniform.” You teased as she plopped herself down into your passenger seat. 

“Oh, shut up.” Robin spat with no malice, but the rasp of her voice never failed to make your heart swell. “I can’t believe you don’t have one. How long do we have?”

You glanced at the clock on your dashboard and signaled a three and then a zero with your free hand while popping a cigarette between your lips with the other. 

“Want one?” You asked. 

And to your soul crushing dismay, Robin visibly recoiled. 

“Gross.”

Immediately, back into the pack it went. 

She chose a Joan Jett & the Blackhearts album for the drive, which was to be expected. It wasn’t like you had any Madonna or Bowie albums lying around for her to choose from. And even if it wasn’t exactly her style, Robin put her feet up on your dashboard and tapped her toes along to the beat of Crimson and Clover like she’d been here before. Like you picking her up and toting her around was an everyday occurrence. Like she belonged in your passenger seat. 

“I got it.” You told her when she tried to hand you a few crumpled up dollars as you pulled up to the gate, then handed the teller a fiver. Enough to cover the bill for both of you. The drive-in on a Friday night was a lot like a no man’s land. Everyone in Hawkins seemed to flock there for a bit of entertainment and respite from the summer heat once the sun went down. The layout was structured:

In the first set of rows were families with screaming, playing children and nervous first dates. Little boys and girls running around outside of cars with bubble wands and teenage couples who got there earlier enough for a good parking spot, that way there was no pressure to make out or fool around in the back seat once the stars aligned. In the second rows were those that needed the stars to align. The lovestruck couples that couldn’t wait for the lights to dim over Indiana, just so they could get a taste of each other. The second batch or rows meant heated touches and wandering hands, fogged up windows and cries muffled into a cigarette burnt seat cushion. It was sweaty, once in a lifetime summertime teenage love that one looks back on well into their life and reminisces just for a moment before continuing on with their day. 

Had you gotten there earlier, maybe you could have been one of those second rowers. God knows you needed the stars to align. You needed Robin to be like you, needed someone in this town besides fucking Steve and Eddie to be queer and not be afraid to show it. 

Instead, you parked your hatchback at the very back of the lot, where high schoolers and washed up jocks roamed the gravel like lions during a feeding frenzy.

“You’re sure about this?” Robin asked, nerves settling into her throat and weeping out through her tone of voice. You could see it painted on her face when she glanced past you and noticed Jason Carver leaned against the hood of his car, still sporting his letterman jacket from three years ago.

“We can go grab a movie at work and go back to yours instead?”

“I think we’ll be okay.” You said while flashing her a half-hearted smile, “Just… lock your door.” But the look on Andy’s face when you stole another glance their direction told you that you would make a liar out of yourself by the end of the night, and there was something comforting about knowing that maybe the universe was about to start making decisions on your behalf. Concessions came around shortly before the movie began, and you bought a large popcorn and two sodas. You let the bucket rest between the two of you and were careful to not put your hand anywhere near it when hers was there — as if one touch was all it would take. The simple brushing of a few fingers, and she would begin calling you that ugly “F” word.

“Does Steve do this to you often?” You asked when there was hardly any light left in the sky. Just a few more minutes, and you wouldn’t feel the need to make small talk. You could enjoy the movie in peace and go back to admiring Robin from afar tomorrow, just like you preferred doing.

“Set you up on playdates, I mean.” You continued when she scrunched up her eyebrows in an adorable manner. 

“Oh, uh…” She said while glancing down at her hands, and you were afraid then that you might’ve offended her. “He just wants me to make more girlfriends — FRIENDS! Friends, I mean!”

She stuttered, and her baby blues became wide. But she snapped them up to you, and as more words came tumbling out of her mouth, you were just thankful that she was actually looking at you again.

“Friends. I don’t really have any besides Steve and Eddie, but no, they don’t do this often.”

Now you were the one furrowing your brow, along with the cock of your head. You turned sideways in your seat to face her.

“You don’t think we’re friends?” You asked.

Robin shrugged. “Are we? This is the first time we’ve hung out since we were in grade school.”

“I come to see you every day at work.” You slipped.

And with those words slipped your heart.

Little did you know, Robin’s heart slipped, too. Right out of her chest. She would’ve bet money that had she looked down, that still beating organ would’ve been a bloody mess at her feet and she would’ve had to apologize for dirtying up your floorboards. 

“You’re visiting me?” She asked quietly, mouth slightly ajar.

“Not Steve?” is what she wanted to follow with, as she was more than used to seeing Steve upsell like a pro daily with the ladies at Family Video — even if they did know that he was dating Eddie.

Even with the truth laid out before her on a silver platter, Robin still refused to believe it. 

And by the grace of God, before you were forced to answer with a gut wrenching, moment defining confession, the big screen lit up and A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master began its opening credits. 

You turned forward in your seat, and Robin continued to rasp her fingernail against the side of that sweating Coca-Cola cup as the movie played on. Anxiety riddled thoughts played out in her head in rapid fire succession, so quickly that each jump scare didn’t cause hardly a flinch as she stared forward.

You’d been visiting her. In your cut off shorts and tank tops that’s been sliced down the sides. Every day, for months. Had those movies gone unwatched, or had you actually taken all of her recommendations to heart and played them over and over again in the darkness of your living room? Had you invited another girl along to watch them with you? Maybe they hadn’t even made it out of the record store. You’d left them there overnight just as an excuse to bring them back the next morning to see her again. And you were punching yourself for talking so much. Because everything was ruined now, wasn’t it? Robin would know you were a dyke, a fag, and she’d duck into the back of the store every time you came to snag a peek at those constellation-like freckles that darkened with the summer sun.

But all thoughts, yours and Robin’s alike, came to a screeching halt when faced with that damned waterbed scene. 

A beautiful blonde, completely nude, hair splayed out around her, breasts pressed against translucent rubber. She was unrealistic. Not perfect, just unattainable, but that was what made Joey — and you — so fixated on her. 

You had to move. You could feel your limbs tensing up, as if they were about to creak like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. You slipped your hand to the center console to grab a fistful of popcorn. Even if you weren’t hungry, you had to pretend like you weren’t sweating bullets, right? Had to pretend that you didn’t feel like some undercover agent that was being talked about in the third person. But why did the girl on the screen have to be so pretty? You couldn’t help but to stare, and the warm butter mixed with the stickiness of summer air forced a whole new sensation to befall you. The sensation of everything closing in, of it all coming to a head, to an end. And then, there was skin. 

Robin’s fingers met yours at the center of the popcorn bucket, and she was sure that her heart stopped. It might have minutes ago when that girl had popped up on the screen, but it was nonexistent now. 

And you didn’t move your hand away when it met hers, despite it feeling much like a jolt of electricity racing through your entire body. That momentary effervescence, it was enough to get you through the stress of living in a world that didn’t understand.

But it wasn’t long lasting, as a chili dog thrown with the force of a football hit your back windshield full speed. You ripped your hand away from Robin’s, nearly knocking the bucket of popcorn all over her in the process. 

“Fuck!” You mumbled to yourself. From the driver’s side mirror, you saw Jason and Andy approaching your window. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It was Andy who tapped against the glass with knuckles calloused from years of playing sports, and you bit the inside of your cheek while rolling the window down. 

“First date?” Jason grinned from outside of your car. 

“Go fuck yourself, Carver.” You spat with immediate regret. 

But then Robin’s elbow seemed to bump yours near the center console, and whether it was on accident or purpose you couldn’t be sure, but that skin to skin contact allowed you to ground yourself a bit this time around. 

“Just trying to enjoy our movie.” You continued, and never once did you dare meet eyes with either of them. 

Because last time you had, well, they’d seen too much.

You and some redhead tangled up in each other beneath a streetlight in a sparse parking lot. You’d thought you were the last ones out of The Hideout that night, but you’d been wrong, and they’d witnessed it all. Every bit of your mouth on hers, her hands around your waist, and the way you’d ushered her quickly into your car once you caught a glimpse of your audience. 

“Right.” Andy drawled, and you saw him lean past you to look at Robin in the passenger seat. “Know what else she enjoys?”

“Andy,” You bargained with a nervous smile covered by your fingers, eyes closed gently so you wouldn’t have to witness the explosion of what could have been. 

But Robin was already anticipating his next words, and her heart hurt for you.

“She’s butch.” He said loudly, “A fuckin’ dyke, y’know? Right here in Hawkins.”

There it was, the final nail in your coffin. You could feel the pity shedding off of Robin from the seat over, and perhaps that was the worst part of all. 

“Come on.” She whispered. The blood and gore playing out before you was nothing compared to how absolutely gutted you felt inside, and Robin could certainly sense that. “Let’s just go home.”

“Home?” Jason teased. 

From what little you could see through your back window, you noticed a third figure blocking your exit.

“So you lesbos can scissor it up in private? That’s what you came here for.” He continued, and your hand slowly made their way toward the keys that sat in the uncranked ignition. “Go on, give us a show. Just like you did at the bar.”

With the roar of your engine, Patrick McKinney scarcely missed getting snagged in the ass with the edge of your bumper. You peeled out of there, dodging roughhousing teenagers and kids that were just heading back to their parents with fresh buckets of popcorn just alike. You could hear your heart thumping like a drum in your ears, could feel the tears prickling the corners of your eyes — but you wouldn’t cry. Not yet. 

It wasn’t until you pulled up in front of your apartment and let your knuckles soften around the steering wheel that you realized what you’d done.

“I didn’t — I didn’t mean to bring you back here.” You sighed while shaking away the thoughts in your head like an Etch-A-Sketch. “Like, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to—”

“I don’t think anything.” Robin interrupted. 

She hadn’t put her feet up on the dashboard during the drive back. Hell, she hadn’t even put her seatbelt on — which was uncharacteristic of a hypochondriac. Instead, she’d sat there holding her hands in her lap, disbelieving of what she’d just found out to be true.

She wasn’t alone. In this small, backwoods town — there was someone like her. 

You washed your hand over your face and contemplated where to go from there, and after a moment, you knew what you wanted to do.

“They weren’t lying, you know.” You laughed, and then looked at her for the first time in what felt like ages.

And the look you saw on Robin’s face, surprisingly, was not that of disgust. But one of hope. A light sheen covered her waterline, as if she’d just been granted her dying wish — kinship.

“I kiss girls.” You said while running your hand through your hair. “Like, a lot. Almost exclusively, actually. I just don’t want you to think that I was trying to bring you home, or that I was trying to pull anything weir—”

But everything past that first sentence was lost on Robin’s ears. The next thing she knew, her mouth was moving without permission from her brain.

“No, I kiss girls, too!” She blurted out, and then squeezed her eyes together with embarrassment. 

You smiled, and she spoke quickly to save herself.

“I mean, in theory.” She corrected, “I would love to kiss a girl! I haven’t actually kissed a girl. I mean, it isn’t like there are tons of options in Hawkins. But if I had the chance — I mean, if the right girl came along—”

“Robin,” you interrupted, and her chest deflated with relief. 

You reached forward to place a gentle hand on her cheek, and it almost seemed right that all of this was happening under the cover of the night. Like it was made easier for her because of it. You could feel the heat in her cheeks, and she could feel the pulse thumping away in your thumb as you brushed her temple. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” You asked.

And with a sigh, as if she’d been waiting for you to ask since you’d first set foot in Family Video some months ago, she replied.

“Please.”

So you did. You leaned across your center console, and her lips were just as plush and pillow soft against yours as they looked. It was everything that you’d anticipated, everything that those second rowers back at the drive-in were chasing after. Robin tasted like a cotton candy summertime sunset that would soon fade into a cashmere sweater, and there was no better way to explain that other than the cusp of summer and fall was your favorite. She was your favorite. 

When you pulled away, you could see by the way her eyes remained closed that perhaps you were her favorite, too.