Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.
For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.
He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.
The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.
It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"
In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."
Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.
Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.
Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.
Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.
They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."
How can Eddie say no?
Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.
The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.
The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.
It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"
Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.
He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.
Eddie needs a break.
He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.
His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.
The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.
It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.
The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.
His eyes meet Steve's.
Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.
Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.
They're nothing to each other.
Never were.
By popular request: Part Two
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Sub!bucky is so needy for you after you denied his orgasm a few days (he is so whiny 😩🥵)
And at night he’s having a wet dream of you and he doesn’t know that’s part of you evil plan… while he grinds his clothed dick at your palm you whisper some sexy things in his ears. When he cums he wakes up and you made his look like he was not your good boy 🥵🥵🥵🥵
I've actually been thinking about something similar recently! I just really love subby men eugh 🤤
I like to think you could make it a little more intense though because I prefer to imagine that you've been making him edge for a few days. You don't let him edge inside you, you both know he'd struggle too much. Instead, you lube up your hand and stroke him for hours, letting him fuck your fist until he's dribbled so much precum over you, your hand is unbearably slick and then you kiss his forehead before you tuck his aching cock back into his underwear.
No matter how much he whines and begs and pleads to be allowed to cum, you don't give in. He's not just being denied his orgasm, he's being worked towards it until he's right on the edge and then you give him absolutely nothing. Repeatedly. It's torture but fuck, he gets off on knowing his dick is yours. He doesn't cum without your permission. You completely own him.
He breaks after the sixth night of being relentlessly edged. You'd stroked his cock nice and slowly for hours that day, swirling your tongue over his tip and reminding him that he's the best boy. He was practically shaking by the time you both made it to bed.
His little whine of "Oh fuck, please." was the first thing you remember hearing when you woke up, quickly followed by "O-oh, oh yes."
At first you thought he must be touching himself; giving in to his own slutty thoughts when he thought you wouldn't find out.
As your sleepy brain slowly wakes up, you realise he's grinding against you, rubbing his throbbing cock against your bare ass, gripping your hips like there's no tomorrow. "Gonna cum. F-fuck, gonna cum." He's frantic, his head tucked in against your neck, his breath hot and erratic against your skin.
You can't have that. Absolutely not. You shuffle away from him, determined not to let him have what he needs and the second the contact between your bodies is broken, you hear him whine pathetically.
"Did you really think that would work out for you?" You tease quietly, turning to face him but that's when you realise his eyes are still closed. His brow is furrowed, very clearly still asleep.
You can't help but pity him. He's so desperate to cum, he's grinding against you in his sleep. He's done his very best to do as he's told but his body can't take it. He's been the best boy for you all week. The least you could do is grant him a little relief.
"You're such a good boy, Bucky." You whisper, pressing him gently onto his back, grasping his cock and letting the tip glide between your slick folds. Nothing feels better than this. You've missed it more than you thought you would this week.
"Such a pretty little slut." You line his tip up with your entrance and ever so slowly lower yourself down. "You're a mindless little fuck toy for me when you're like this. So horny, you can hardly even think straight. You've been like a needy fucking puppy for me all week. You just let your dick think for you, isn't that right? You know I could tell when you were zoning out and daydreaming about fucking me? You're so cute."
As you start to really fuck yourself on him, Bucky seems to moan himself awake.
"Please." He begs, and it sounds so pretty when he says it. "Please, I'm so close. I'm gonna cum. I can't cum inside you. There's gonna be so much."
"Oh sweetheart, that's what I want. I want you to fill me. Stuff my cunt full of cum. I thought I told you how badly I want a baby."
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So there's an actual in game reason you can't get lynel weapons anymore??
So I was looking over the monster statues, just examining the design, when I notice something I'd seen but never really twigged:
Those are nuts and bolts. Huh. That's not natural, that's been added on. In fact, you can still see part of the original scratchy lynel horn from botw underneath, even if it has mutated a bit like all the other horned monsters.
See, lynels, with lizalfos in a lesser way, are the only enemies in the game with the intelligence and cunning to forge weapons. A lizal can only manage one boomerang, shield or bow with varying spikes and occasionally repurpose some hylian armour (and often loot anyway), but lynels are capable of creating their own unique metals and using it to completely outfit themselves. Armour, bows, shields, spears, clubs, and swords, complete with sheaths and harnesses and decoration!
But in totk the particularly pointy ones are missing, leaving only shields, armour, and bows. Their weapons were subject to the Decay as well, but instead of trying to use them anyway, what did they do? They broke down their own weapons and repurposed them as enhancements to their own horns! Extra defence and a new devastating attack!
But... For what reason? They could have kept using those weapons just fine, everyone else is! It probably would have been more practical to start attaching things to the end, like the goblins have all started doing (albeit with mixed results, they seem to inordinately favour mushrooms). Why would the most feared enemy in the game feel the need to put more points into defence and intimidation, even sometimes utilising the rock armour?
What would they be feeling the need to so strongly defend from, even to the point of sacrificing huge attack power over it?
...
Link. It's Link.
The 5 nothing hero of hyrule, who built a whole community of speed running, styling on, brutally murdering lynels almost exclusively again and again and again. Moldugas, hinox, talus, they haven't changed a bit! They weren't at the center of every flashy slow mo clip since the first game came out!
But lynels in totk are running scared, they're building bigger horns to look scarier and armour to hide in, because once they need to get their short range weapons out its already over, or maybe link will just stop farming them for top tear weapons XD.
Tldr: unlike other monsters, which have branched out to kidnapping, riding flying monsters and rolling big spiky balls, lynels have gone entirely the other direction in order to try and scare the hero off after the last round of stylish massacres, and attached their old decayed gear to their horns.
Tldr tldr: botw link is the reason you can't get lynel weapons in totk because he scared them too much.
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