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#Eddie hope
alfapratt · 9 months
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favourite buffyverse non-human characters from last to first
#10 ● Eddie Hope
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#9 ● Aluwyn
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#8 ● Illyria
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#7 ● Krevlornswath "Lorne" of the Deathwok Clan
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#6 ● Harmony Kendall
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#5 ● Daniel "Oz" Osbourne
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#4 ● Drusilla
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#3 ● Clem
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#2 ● Anyanka
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#1 ● William "Spike" Pratt
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bonus: Baby Crab (Xander and Spike's god-crab-creature son) and Sebastian (bug leader of Spike's ship)
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bobbie-robron · 1 year
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If you were thinking of selling that, I could do you a good deal. (Gifs)
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02-Oct-2003
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lengthofropes · 2 years
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- This kid's gotta get his ego in check. - It's his tone. Right?
#anz12kparty
July 28 prompts: Family / Dustin and his dads
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sp0o0kylights · 5 months
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Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.
It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 
Worse?
It was short.
Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 
The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 
“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 
Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 
“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 
Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.
‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’
“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 
They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.
Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 
Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.
(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.
 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 
The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 
Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.
Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.
Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 
“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”
He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 
To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 
None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.
Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 
Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.
Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 
“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 
A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.
“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 
Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction
“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”
“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!
“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 
As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.
Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 
“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 
It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 
Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 
Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 
(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 
The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 
It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.
Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.
Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.
“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 
He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.
Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.
(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)
“You know who doesn’t look scary?”
Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 
“Steve!”
Eddie’s left eye twitched.
‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.
Cartoon squawking and all. 
“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 
So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.
“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”
Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.
There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 
Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 
One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 
(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”
“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 
“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 
“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!
 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 
He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.
“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 
A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 
“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 
This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 
Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!
He was right!
Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.
“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 
Because King Steve? Play D&D?
'Ha!'
“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 
“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.
Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 
Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 
The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 
As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.
“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.
"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 
 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table
Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 
The dick.
“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.
He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.
Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.
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libraryofgage · 6 months
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Good Vibrations Part One
Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.
Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together
If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
----
Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.
Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.
The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.
Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.
Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.
But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.
So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.
About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.
Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.
But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.
After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.
But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.
"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.
They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.
He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.
The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.
"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.
He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.
Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.
He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.
His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.
Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.
Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.
----
When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.
He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.
"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."
Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"
"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.
Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"
Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."
"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"
After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"
Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.
"No, Steve."
"Oh, the famous Steve."
Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.
And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.
"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"
"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.
Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.
As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"
Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."
Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."
Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.
Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.
Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.
Great.
Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.
Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."
Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"
Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."
Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.
Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.
Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."
"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.
Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."
And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.
Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.
Holy. Shit.
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weepingalaxy · 8 months
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these puppets got that autism in them!
bonus:
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cmon home, you know you cant make those kinds of jokes... smh...
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inklessletter · 10 months
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"Let's run away. Let me take you to the beach. Let me give you the summer as a birthday present. I swear, you won't ever forget it."
☀️
Thank you so much for trusting the process with me again today.
I am honestly so proud of this piece. It took me a thousand hours omg, but... but the fabric, and the skin, and the tattoos, and... and his aura, god. I'm turning this shady, metalhead all time dressed in black, lover of the night and dark things sweetheart into a sun lover. A happy little thing.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 month
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Eddie loved flying. When the sun was out and he could watch the cars and houses get smaller while they reached altitude. When everything felt a bit lighter and his stress was under the clouds.
He did not love flying when the weather was bad.
In fact, he’d joked with the flight attendant that maybe they should delay the flight until the wind and dark clouds passed, but she just laughed and said the pilots were used to it.
Good for them. Eddie wasn’t.
He always sat in the window seat in first class, usually had some old businessman on his way to close a very important deal next to him. That wasn’t an option for this last minute flight though, so he was in the last row of the plane, leg bouncing nervously as people continued to board.
“As a courtesy to those around you, please stow your personal items under the seat in front of you as soon as you are in your seat. This allows a faster boarding process for all of us. Thank you!”
The announcement was a reminder that Eddie was flying without his usual carry-on items. His tour manager had packed him a checked bag and sent him on his way.
So he had his phone and his wallet, and eyes looking out the window next to him watching rain start to hit the tarmac below.
“Excuse me, I think that’s my seat,” a man’s voice said from the aisle.
Eddie looked over and saw a long line of men roughly his age in matching track suits, backpacks over their shoulders, and the Notre Dame logo on their jackets.
They were all tall. Well, all except the guy talking to him now. He was pretty average size.
“Uh. I don’t think so man. I’m 36F,” Eddie answered as kindly as his nerves would allow.
The guy checked his phone, brows creasing together.
“I’m 36F.”
No fucking way was Eddie giving up his window seat.
“Is there a problem?” A flight attendant asked from behind them.
“We’re both supposed to be in 36F?” The guy held his phone towards the attendant.
“May I see your boarding pass, sir?” The attendant asked Eddie.
Eddie pulled his own phone out, holding out the mobile boarding pass for her to see it.
“Sorry sir, it looks like you should be in 36E.”
Oh no.
Oh god no.
A middle seat?
There was no fucking way.
“I’m sorry, would it be at all possible for me to be in a window seat?” Eddie didn’t want to cause problems, but his chest was starting to clench and his breaths were coming in short pants.
“Unfortunately, this is a sold out flight. We wouldn’t have any available for you.”
He could feel eyes on him, quite a few of them, but none as obvious as the guy who actually belonged in 36F.
“We can just switch, man. No big deal.”
Eddie sighed with relief.
“Thank you, yeah. That’d be great.”
The attendant nodded and gestured for the guy to sit down.
Someone behind him sat on his other side and they immediately started talking as if nothing had happened.
See? Eddie had actually done them a favor! Now he could talk to his teammate for whatever sport he played and Eddie could watch their impending demise through the window.
The plane was rocking back and forth from the force of the wind blowing outside and the sky continued to grow darker despite the early afternoon hour. Eddie was considering sending a goodbye text to his band when he felt a hand on his arm.
“Hey, you okay?”
Eddie’s eyes widened as he turned to look at the guy next to him.
“Do you normally get nervous when you fly? Or is this your first time?” He continued. “Sometimes it helps to just close your eyes during takeoff.”
It was kind of him to try this, truly, but Eddie knew kindness wouldn’t save them if lightning hit them.
“I’m just not a fan of storms.”
The guy was watching him while his teammate on the other side of him talked to the guys across the aisle. Eddie was surrounded by this entire team. The irony was not lost on him that he spent so much of his youth expressing disdain for sports ball and might die among a group of sports ball players.
“Steve.” The guy nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s instead of offering his hand, an odd thing to do but the contact was grounding.
“Eddie.”
“You wanna hold my hand?”
Did they already die during takeoff? Did Eddie somehow end up in heaven?
This very attractive man, who definitely didn’t even know who Eddie was, was offering comfort in these trying times. Offering to hold his hand!
“Uh.”
Steve smiled. “It’s okay if not, but I figured it might help you focus on something else.”
“Sure.”
Steve held his hand out, palm up, and Eddie laced their fingers together.
“So, Eddie. Tell me where you’re off to.”
Eddie breathed in, breathed out. “My Uncle. He’s getting his appendix out so I’m trying to get there before he wakes up.”
“Oh. I had mine out when I was 10! Is he okay?” Steve seemed genuinely concerned and Eddie felt his stomach swoop.
“Yeah! Yeah, they caught it before it ruptured. But because of his age, they said his recovery might be a little rough so I’m gonna stay with him for a week to make sure he doesn’t overdo it. He’s a stubborn old man who’d probably be pulling weeds from his garden within hours if I wasn’t going so.” Eddie looked back out the window. Fingers reached under his chin, turning him away from the window.
“Eyes on me.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Eddie nodded and squeezed Steve’s hand.
“Good.”
Fuck.
“So, you’re close with your uncle?” Steve asked, as if he hadn’t just turned Eddie’s entire world upside down.
“Mhm. He basically raised me. More like a dad,” Eddie whispered out.
The pilot was making an announcement, but you couldn’t pay Eddie to tell you what it was for. He barely even noticed that they were backing away from the boarding zone.
“Do you visit him often?”
“As often as I can. My job keeps me busy,” Eddie shrugged, not really wanting to give it away, didn’t wanna give Steve a reason to look at him differently.
Eddie was gonna soak up this attention as long as he could.
It was actually helping distract him.
“I get that. I mean, I play basketball for Notre Dame and it basically is a full time job. We travel so much, most of my classes are online. I hardly ever get back home to visit my family,” Steve admitted with a sad smile. “Luckily, they come see me at my home games when they can. Does your uncle get to visit you sometimes?”
Just as Eddie went to answer, he caught lightning out of the corner of his eye and his entire body tensed.
“Hey.” Steve’s voice was firm, drawing his attention away from the window quickly. “Keep your eyes on me. We’re fine. Just you and me talking right now.”
They were nearly at the runway for takeoff and it was getting harder to focus on Steve’s words, the warmth of his hand in his, the fact that if it were truly dangerous, they wouldn’t even be cleared for takeoff.
As the plane sped up, Eddie whimpered.
He’d be embarrassed later if he survived.
Steve’s hand pulled from his and wrapped around his shoulder, pulling him against his side while his other hand cupped the back of his head and kept his face against his chest.
“Just breathe. I’ve got ya.”
And really, if the plane went down in flames, no one could save them. But hearing it did help, especially with arms holding him so tightly, he almost didn’t even remember he was on a plane.
But not quite.
The wind was strong enough to make the takeoff rough, shaking the plane more than usual as it left the ground.
Eddie’s hand gripped Steve’s shirt so tight, he would probably cause a tear if his nails weren’t so dull.
He stayed like that while they continued to climb above the clouds, the air pockets making the flight a bit more turbulent than Eddie was okay with.
He felt the vibrations of Steve talking, but didn’t hear him, didn’t even know if he was talking to him or the guy next to him who probably thought Eddie was an idiot.
The pilot made an announcement he didn’t hear, but he figured if he was gonna die, he could die against the chest of a nice, hot guy.
“Worst of it’s almost done, babe,” Steve said, lips against the top of Eddie’s head.
Gareth would never stop teasing him about this if he ever found out.
Being consoled by a sports ball guy during a flight he’s taken at least 30 times in the last two years.
New low? Maybe new high if he managed to get his number.
Steve’s fingers played with his hair, and he slowly felt his body relax.
His last thought before drifting asleep was how nice it was to be held like this.
***
“I think he’s probably a cookie guy.”
Eddie’s eyes blinked open to Steve’s voice quietly rumbling in his ear.
He’d been adjusted at some point so his head rested on Steve’s shoulder, one hand against his chest.
He couldn’t remember the last time he fell asleep on a flight. Maybe the last time they flew to London from LA right after a show?
And those had been perfect flying conditions.
He lifted his head as he rubbed at his eyes and tried not to let the butterflies take over when Steve’s hand squeezed his hip.
“Hey sleepyhead. You want cookies or pretzels?”
“Cookies always. Please.” Eddie yawned.
As he took the package of Biscoff cookies, he noticed how smooth the flight was and the sun shining through the window.
Steve’s arm stayed around him.
The entire flight.
Even after he’d gotten up to use the restroom.
Even when there was no real reason to offer him comfort anymore.
Even when they landed on the runway in Indianapolis and the seatbelt light turned off.
Even while they talked to each other the entire flight, sharing the smallest details about themselves as if it was a first date.
“Would it be okay if I get your number? I’d like to check on your uncle later if that’s okay,” Steve asked, suddenly seeming more nervous than he had the entire flight.
I’m “Yes! Yeah, please,” he quickly typed it into Steve’s phone, putting his name as Eddie M 🛫. “Uh, thanks for, ya know, helping. Kind of embarrassing.”
“No reason to be embarrassed. It was scary.”
“Yeah. I just figured I fly so much, I should be used to it.”
“You never told me what your job was,” Steve nudged him as he pocketed his phone.
“I didn’t.” Eddie almost didn’t wanna ruin this. But he’d figure it out or find out and then it’d be worse. “I’m the lead singer for Corroded Coffin.”
“Is that…a famous band?”
The guy on the other side of Steve smacked his shoulder. “Dude, one of their songs is on our locker room hype playlist. Dustin’s obsessed.”
“Shut up, Lucas. You know I have my own playlist!” Steve turned back to Eddie and rolled his eyes. “Sorry. So you’re like famous.”
“You could say that,” Eddie hated saying it though, at least in these situations. “You really didn’t know?”
“Nah. I’m more of a pop and 80s kinda guy.”
“Maybe you could send me a playlist? Ya know, when you check on my uncle later,” Eddie suggested.
“Sure. I’ve got a two and a half hour bus ride back to campus to work on one.” Steve smirked. “You gonna be alright now?”
“Yeah. Thanks again. For taking care of me.”
“Anytime. Anything you need.”
And Eddie was pretty sure he meant it.
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calumfmu · 1 month
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arms of a careful lover
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You didn't know how he was, the stranger driving you home. He knew you, knew all about your life, and his picture-perfect ideal of you. As you traveled through the town of Hawkins, you couldn't help, but ask yourself 'Who The Fuck is Eddie Munson'?
cw: smut, sexual tension, riding, oral, AFAB reader, fem!reader, p in v sex, cursing, etc. 4.9k+ words.
The music in the dark bar room was overpowering, filling your senses, tingling in the back of your mind. It was hot—sticky, your clothes not sparing you the freedom of movement as your leather dress felt glued to your skin. You had lost your friend at one point, hearing something about ‘another drink’ about half an hour ago.
Searching for her in the dark red lighting was impossible, faces blending together as the alcohol seeped into their bloodstream. Your back hit firm muscle, two ringed hands coming up to stop you from tumbling onto the wet floor.
Turning around, you were met with the deepest shade of brown you could think of, long lashes encasing them. His hair was long, curly and full, bangs sticking to his forehead with the dampness of the air.
“You alright?” The stranger shouted over the music, the dull thud of the bass banging in your chest. You nodded dumbly, a ghost of a smile on your face as you stood in front of him.
A look similar to your own crept up on his face, smile lines forming on his cheeks as he blinked down at you.
“I’m such a dunce sometimes,” you laughed, voice raised as you leaned into him. Strong cologne hit you, a faint hint of marijuana seeping out of his clothes. “Sorry, man.”
The man shook with a silent laugh, his head swaying side to side as he excused you. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it.”
He moved to leave, hands leaving your shoulders as he stepped to your side. Disappointment tugged at your emotions, teeth gritting as you watched him walk away from you. You called after him, a shouted ‘wait!’ getting lost in the crowd as you watched him disappear into throes of people. His scent lingered in the air, the smell of strong aftershave the only memory you have of him.
Seemingly dumbfounded you stood there for a second, lip jutted out as you searched for sight of him again, standing on your toes as you looked through the crowds. He was long gone by now, a stranger in the darkness as you gave up, sigh escaping you.
Making your way to the front of the building, you stepped outside, feeling the cool air hit your body. A bouncer was out front, arms clasped in front of him as he stared in front of him, unfocused on anything in particular.
“Got a pay phone?” You asked, following the direction in which he pointed. A few feet away, it stood. Picking it up, you pressed it to your ear, silence meeting you as there was no dial tone. Finger hitting the switch, you grew frustrated, realizing the phone wasn’t in working order.
Storming back over to the bouncer, you pointed a finger at him.
“Why would you not tell me it doesn’t work?”
He shrugged, choosing not to look at you as his gaze remained hard. As you took a step towards the building, his hand shot out to stop you, opposite hand pointing at a huge sign to his left.
‘NO RE-ENTRY’, the sign read, in bold, red letters. Closing your eyes in frustration, you silently cursed him. You walked away, hand dipping into your purse as you searched for cash, hopes of getting a cab sitting in your chest. That feeling disappeared as you realized your wallet had been snagged at a point in the night, your fingers coming up empty.
Leaning against the side of the building, your leg was kicked up to support you, heeled boot digging into the chipped brick. Your arms were crossed in front of you, palms rubbing over your arms to warm yourself up.
A few people piled out of the bar, the hour ticking closer and closer to closing time. Thirty minutes had to have passed, no sight of your friend amongst the people leaving. As you watched the group of strangers, the same boy from before—the pretty one—walked in front of you, hair flowing behind him as he tossed a pair of keys into the air.
“Hey!” You shouted, kicking off of the wall to jog up to him. He turned, confused as the click of your boots hit the asphalt. You waved a hand at him, the sting of the cold air reddening your cheeks.
He looked at you in anticipation, face turned up in confusion as you stopped in front of him, weight shifting from side to side.
“You think you could spare me a ride?” You asked, feeling bold in front of this stranger. He looked at you up and down, then sent a quick glance around himself.
“Are you talking to me?” His voice was deep, deeper than you expected.
Laughing, you nodded, pointing to his keys. He glanced at them, gaze lingering as confusion was still evident on his face.
“My friend ditched me, and my mom’s going to kill me if I’m not back before her night shift ends,” you said, beginning to shake as the cold air hit your exposed skin. The leather mini dress you were sold on earlier didn’t seem like a good idea at the moment. “So… please?”
He stayed silent, eyes studying you as you looked around, watching people move around the parking lot. It was growing windy at this point, fallen leaves stirring on the ground. People began to make haste, rushing into cars as the weather worsened.
“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, voice quick as he took a step back from you. Your heart sank, rejection souring your taste. “Sorry, man.”
He pressed his lips together in an apology to you, turning around quickly as he began to walk away. His converse scuffed at the ground, hands dipping his pockets as he made it a few feet in front of you.
Watching him walk away made your heart ache, your escape plan from this desolate area getting further away. You didn’t know what you were going to do at this point, money lost, not a single phone in sight. Walking wasn't an option, the buildings of the inner city miles away from you.
As you began to turn away, the man’s pace slowed, feet coming to a halt as his back was turned to you. Head cocking to the side, you stood confused, watching as his head tilted up to look at the night sky. You heard him mumble something from the few feet away, foot stomping underneath him before he turned back around, eyes making contact with yours.
His gaze was sincere as you waited for him to say something, his fingers curling at his sides as he looked full of nerves.
“I live on Millrose,” you shouted to him, seeing his teeth begin to chew at his bottom lip. Nodding, he sighed, hand beckoning you closer.
You followed his instruction, smug smile crossing your face as you approached him.
“Just promise not to kill me?” He said as the two of you began to walk towards a van. You laughed, quickly glancing at him as you took sight of the dark vehicle.
“You seem to be projecting.”
Snorting out a laugh, his key unlocked the passenger door, his hand coming out to swing it open for you. With the door open, you turned towards him, looking up at him as his height towered over yours.
“I mean, look at me,” You said, hand resting on your hip. “I don’t think I’d do much damage.”
He seemed nervous in the moment, eyes moving quickly as they flitted over your body. His eyelids fluttered rapidly as he gulped slightly, fingers tapping against the open door.
You raised an eyebrow at him as you slid into the seat, heart beating faster as the door closed behind you.
He drove fast. Metallica blasting over the stereo as his fingers drummed against the steering wheel. You gripped the safety handle, hand pressed to the dash as he maneuvered the streets of Hawkins. A prayer sat on the edge on your lips, curses instead flowing out whenever he took too sharp a turn.
“What brings you out here?” He said over the music, hand shooting out to lower it. You briefly glanced at him, heart lunging as he slammed the brake at a stop sign.
“The band,” you began, tugging at your seatbelt to make sure it was secured. “It was the last show I heard they’re playing in Indiana, and I missed the one last year.”
He threw a face at you, mouth wide open. “The band?”
You matched his expression, growing self conscious at his question. “What about it?”
“I dunno if I believe you,” he scoffed, head shaking. “I’ve never heard of a girl like you into heavy metal, its, like, impossible, man.”
It was your turn to laugh, a small gasp coming up as he sped up to run a yellow light. His words confused you, the ‘like you’ lingering in your mind. He barely made it, red flashing briefly as he crossed the intersection.
“Hate to break it you, but…” Your voice dropped to a low whisper, leaning into him as you raised your hand, fingers wiggling in the air as if you were casting a spell. “We exist.”
A blush crossed his face, cheeks filling as his eyes squinted up.
“Okay, okay… don’t make me sound like a total jerk here.”
“You did it to yourself. I’m just saying.” Your tone was light as you teased him, enjoying the way his face lit up at your jokes.
He was quiet for a moment, car rolling to a stop as a red light ticked in the dark. No cars passed by, the only sign of life being a street sweeping crew, cleaning an area of the downtown side walk in the late hours. You chose to relax in that moment, sinking into the soft cushion of the seat.
“If you’re into the same things as me, how come you’ve never said hi?” His voice was almost inaudible. Glancing at him, his eyes were fixated on the red light, waiting for it to change. That same light look was on his face still, eyebrows slightly raised as humour grazed his features. You waited for the punchline to drop, this stranger in front of you urging nothing out of you.
“What d’you mean?”
“At school,” he said, making eye contact with you as you stared into his eyes. You furrowed your brow, trying to recognize him.
“You go to Hawkins?” You don’t remember ever seeing him, memory sifting through faces you see on a daily basis. Nothing rings a bell, not a single recollection of ever seeing the boy before.
He laughed at you, turning back to the road as he pressed the gas. The van sputtered as it accelerated, gravel crushing as he continued through downtown.
“We have, like, three classes together, Yn,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief as your mouth dropped open. Heat began to colour your cheeks. “You’re friends with Carol, Tommy H. Hawkins royalty, man.”
His voice dropped to a mocking tone as he relayed the names, continuing his speech, “I’m just surprised you’d even be caught dead at something like this.”
Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to think of what to say. Swallowing around nothing, you turned your body towards the dash.
“Let alone caught with me. Imagine what the school would say… what the town would say,” his hand rose to move in front of him, as if he was reading a line from a newspaper. “Resident sweetheart led to murder van of town freak, Eddie Munson. Read more, page six.”
You let out a giggle, his own laughter in harmony with your own.
“Oh shut up, that would never happen.” You didn’t acknowledge the fact that there was a bit of truth in what he said, your popularity did threaten to be shattered if anyone even knew you enjoyed the metal sound of music.
A look was shot your way, his eyes rolling at your words.
“You know it’s the truth,” he said, turning onto a main road. “Such a shame, we never got to hang out. If I knew you were cool, maybe my idea of you would’ve changed earlier.”
Your eyes ran over him, watching the way his curly hair sat over his shoulders, a thick mane that accentuated his manly features. You imagined what it might have been like to know him on a different level, to have met him under different circumstances. His words had you thinking, wondering what idea of you remained in his mind.
“Hey… you said Millrose, right? We should be 10 minutes out,” he threw at you, looking for confirmation.
A beat passed, you slow blinking at him as you failed to nod.
“Yn?”
Clearing your throat, your heart began to race as you spoke your next words, “We could hang out now at your place.”
The vehicle swerved slightly to the right, an over correction that had you slamming into the door. Hissing, you pushed against it, seeing the way Eddie whipped his head to you.
“Huh?” His voice was tight, a slightly higher pitch.
You blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I know it’s almost 2 am, but I don’t have to be home for a few more hours,” you said, voice small as you anticipated his rejection. You didn’t know why you felt nervous, asking out boys was your thing. “We could make up for lost time.”
He didn’t know what to say for a moment, face contorting as he processed your suggestion. You couldn’t help but know that your words had a different meaning, the late hours of the night not welcoming just a friendly conversation.
“You.” He pointed a ringed finger to you, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Want to come to my place.” The finger turned on himself, digging into the white of his shirt. His question turned into a statement, disbelief evident.
“I have, like, 6 siblings,” you laughed, shaking that idea out of your mind. “There’s no way you’re coming to mine.”
“You want to come to my place?” He repeated his question, voice higher as he drove. Glancing at the streets, you knew the direction had changed, him driving towards his own place before his mind could even catch up.
“Eddie, if you say that one more time-” Your laughter kicked up as he punched the gas, speeding down the dark streets of Hawkins. He seemed to have caught up now, words getting lost in his throat.
Before you knew it, a trailer lot appeared in the distance, homes scattered in various places, clotheslines hanging between them. You had never been in this part of town before, your ignorance not allowing you to realize that people did have vacancies here.
Eddie saw your wandering gaze, rolling to a stop in front of his place. Nervous in his own rite, he reached up to twist a curl between his fingers.
“Well, it’s not the Four Seasons, but my uncle’s out,” he said, glancing at anything but you. You smiled at his anxiousness, finding it endearing.
“I don’t care about that kind of stuff, Eddie.”
He scoffed at your words, eyes rolling with humour as he jumped out of the van. You followed his lead, stumbling slightly as the gravel crunched under your boots. Following him up to the door, you noticed the way he fumbled with his keys, having to try two, three times to get it unlocked.
It was spacious inside, dark furniture and fishing hats littering the walls. You could tell it was a man cave, the sign of a woman missing for years. Walking over to a framed picture on a side table, you ran your fingers over it, Eddie standing in front of tree with a serious look, head cocked to the side with a black DIO shirt on.
His throat cleared behind you, Eddie scratching at the back of his head as he tried to subtly kick a discarded shirt underneath a desk, out of your vision.
“You want something? Uh, water? Alcohol, weed, anything?” He scrambled towards the kitchen area, fridge thrown open as he rifled through the contents. Glasses clinked together, something falling as he cursed.
Taking a seat on the couch, you shook your head. “I don’t do any of that.”
His head popped up over the counter separating you, eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs. The fridge swung shut behind him as he looked around, slowly making his way over to you.
He stood in front of you, your heart racing as you looked at him through long lashes. The angle had you appreciating his beauty, cut short as he moved to sit.
“But… you’re friends with…”
“Doesn’t mean shit. It’s not my thing,” you shrugged, placing both hands on your knees. He nodded, an awkward silence settling on you two.
A small smile crossed your face, the awkward air lingering heavy on you two. Eddie whistled, sighing periodically as you glanced around the place, hands tapping on your exposed legs. You didn’t know how much time had passed, Eddie settling his back against the couch as you sat upright.
“What did you think of me?”
“Why did you want to come here?”
You and Eddie spoke at the same time, your words becoming jumbled over each other as you shared a deep shade of red of your cheeks. Making eye contact, he let out a chuckle, hand motioning to you. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth, laughing silently at the situation.
“You first.”
The words were shared again, both of your voices intertwining. Eddie jokingly rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you as he lowered his voice. You noticed his lips were bright red, becoming wet as his tongue darted out briefly.
“Okay, now this is getting weird.” He stretched his legs in front of him, foot bumping against yours before you snatched it back, heart racing at the contact. He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your leg.
“You first,” you answered, trying to cover it up as you cleared your throat. You turned your body towards him, leg tucked underneath you as one elbow was propped up on the back of the couch. “I’m the guest.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he tried, but failed miserably at trying not to stare at you. His deep eyes running over your exposed collarbones.
“I wanted to come here because I want to get to know you. You seem… cool.” Your own words failed at your attempt to remain normal, noticing the way his chest hitched slowly when you outstretched your hand, fingers running over the small stretch of the couch between you.
“Just cool?” Glancing down at his mouth once again, you turned to look away as he noticed the movement. He seemed more nervous after the gesture, repeating the motion of his tongue over his lip. His head cocked even further, legs widening as he settled further into the couch.
You nodded, mind blanking as you looked at him. Subconsciously, you scooted closer to him, the tension between the two of you thickening. His head leaned back against the couch, the expanse of his neck looking enticing in the moment.
"And what did you think of me?" You asked, curious at his statement earlier. 'My idea of you would've changed' kept repeating in your head, not sure whether or not you should feel offended or not by it. It's not like you should care anyways, this man did not exist to you a couple of hours ago, but you did. You had wished you met this man earlier, your temptation to have him pulling at your core.
"I thought..." His voice trailed off, kicking up at the end of the word as your hand brushed his thigh. Glancing down quickly, you repeated the motion, manicured hand coming up to tug at one of his belt loops. You felt bold, nerves leaving you as you realized he may have wanted this too. Whatever this was.
"What did you think?" You asked again, eyes trained on the jean material beneath your finger tips. You dipped a finger in his pocket, tugging on it as his hips shifted beneath your touch. A bulge was becoming present, material growing tighter. A blush covered your cheeks, nerves returning again as you refused to make eye contact.
"That, uh..." He cleared his throat, bringing a finger to his mouth to sink his teeth into. The hand smacked into his thigh, chocked, sharp inhale being taken. "Thought you were a good girl, you know? Miss, uh, goody two-shoes."
You laughed at his words, hand grazing quickly over his bulge. He took an even sharper inhale, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp. Looking up at him through your lashes, you smirked.
"You still think that, Eddie?" Your voice was a whisper, cutting through the air as he made eye contact with you. His tongue poked at the corner of his mouth, running over his teeth as he gave a quick shake of his head.
A beat passed between the two of you, Eddie's hungry stare bore into your own, your hand still on his thigh. You opened your mouth to speak, teeth bumping into your bottom lip as you stumbled over the words to say.
Eddie lunged at you, hands coming up to rest on your cheeks as you moaned, sitting up on your knees to get better access. It was a clash of teeth and tongue, messy as you climbed over him, swinging a leg over his lap. Moving with a fervor, he licked into your mouth, giant hands cupping your jaw, your hands running over his chest as you pulled at the vest he wore. Wrapping an arm around you, he didn't pull from the kiss as he sat up, allowing you to yank the material off of his body.
You grinded against him, leather mini dress pushed up to your hips as the thick jean material ground into you. Eddie groaned, pulling away slightly to reach down to unbutton his jeans.
His fingers fumbled as he struggled, pressing chaste kisses to your lips. You tugged at his hair, licking up the breathy moans he let out at each pull.
"You ever done something like this before, Eddie?" You breathed against his mouth, pulling up your dress as the button popped loose. His hands paused as his eyes shot open to look at you, panting, heavy out of breath.
He nodded, leaning back into the couch as you pressed a hand to his chest. Raising, he went to kiss you again, only to be pushed down as you gyrated your hips over his.
He whined at the touch, curses flowing from his lips as he placed his hands on your hips, guiding the motion. A wave of heat was sent to your core, wetness dampening the thin material of your underwear.
He nodded at your question, hair shaking in all different directions as you bounced slightly, enjoying the way he fit perfectly in the dip of your pussy.
"Yea-yeah, I have," he said, and you weren't sure if he was lying. Smirking, you raised to your knees, lifting your bum to pull his pants down his hips. He followed your movement, hips raising as the material slid down his thighs. Stopping mid-thigh, you pulled his boxers down, mouth watering at the sight of his cock, swollen and red at the head, dripping in anticipation.
"You want to show me?" You asked, getting off of him to kneel in front. You placed both hands on his thighs, mouth opening to drool against him. Eddie moaned at the feeling, hand coming up to grip at your hair. "Since I'm such a good girl and all?"
"You're such a fuckin-" He began to say before lacing his fingers behind your head, urging your mouth on his cock. You tried laughing around it, mouth full as he pushed you down. Closing your eyes, you choked on him, feeling him hit the back of your throat.
Fucking into your mouth, he let out chocked gasps, head being thrown back as his hands guided your mouth. The pace was too quick, wetness dripping down your chin, onto his balls, the entire ordeal becoming more and more messy. Your eyes rolled back, loving the way he was using you, squelching of his cock in your mouth filling the air.
"Fuck," he moaned, hips pumping up to meet the guidance of his hands half way. You flattened your tongue, gagging loudly as he shoved all the way in. "If anyone could see you right now."
You moaned louder, hand leaving his thigh as you reached down between your legs. You were dripping wet, underwear soaked as he fucked your mouth. Rubbing small circles against your clit, you couldn't help but begin to thrust your own hips against your hand.
"You're so- ah, shit, your mouth feels so g- so fucking good," he moaned, thrusts becoming more rapid. Your fingers against your own clit sped up to match his pace, white hot pleasure filling your body with warmth.
"I'm gonna-" He whined, pulling you off of him with a yank of your hair. Your mouth was half open in a smirk, saliva dripping off of your chin as you looked up to him. His gaze grew dark, eyes rolling in pleasure as he pulled you up to him.
His cock pressed against his abdomen, angry red at the ruined orgasm.
"I need you to cum inside me," you whispered, crawling up to him as you settled in his lap once again. His hands found your hips, your underwear pushed to the side as you hovered over him.
Cock nudging inside you, the two of you mewled at the feeling, you stretched wide with a burn, him encased in the warmness of your cunt. You sank onto him, firmly seated in his lap, his hands rubbing small circles onto your lower back.
His shirt was still on, white tee pushed up to his chest as he sank lower on the couch. You adjusted to the feeling of him, pressing your lips to his as he squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure.
"I can't- I have to move- I'm gonna-" His words didn't make sense, coming out jumbled as you began to ride him, hips moving up and down on his cock as pants escaped his lips. The head of his cock nudged deep against that sensitive spongy spot, your moans becoming louder.
With your head thrown back in ecstasy, you couldn't help, but lean in towards that white hot feeling lingering in your abdomen. Eddie began to thrust underneath you, meeting you halfway as you became more cock drunk.
"You're so perfect, fuck, you're so perfect, so perfect," he muttered praises under his breath, eyebrows knitted together as he picked up his pace. The sound of slapping skin dominated in the room, grunts and your high pitched moans following close behind.
"Eddie," you drawled out his name, the last thrust sending you over the edge, your orgasm shaking your legs as he fucked you through it. You seated yourself on him, hands pressed to his chest as you hunched over, head pressed into the white cotton, hips moving on their own as he stuttered his hips.
His own orgasm followed short, a low moan that he breathed into your hair, your name on his lips. Catching your breath, you whimpered at the feeling of him sinking even further into you, jumping up at your cervix being pressed.
"Here, I'm sorry, here," he spoke in small phrases as he lifted you off of him, moving in one motion to pull his boxers up and lay you next to him. You rested your cheek against his thigh, curling into yourself as you tried pulling your dress down over your ass with one hand.
His hand ran over your back, small circles over the length of skin as you leaned into the touch. You angled your head to look at him, giggling as he stared down at you, fucked out look on his face.
"Was that okay?" You asked, turning so you laid on your back. He nodded dumbly, hair following over his face.
"That was perfect, man," he smiled sheepishly as you laughed, hand coming up to smack his chest at the name he threw you. He was so Eddie, the new character that you happened across.
"We should, uh.. go out," he confessed, nerves returning to his face as you looked up at him. Your eyebrows shot up at the offer, his face covered in horror as he tried to clear up what he just said. "Not like now, no, no, no--not now. Unless you'd want to- but, no... we could, uh... maybe it's a bad idea."
You sat up, pressing a kiss to his mouth as he stumbled through his words. Feeling him relax into you, his breathing evened, lips moving languidly. Pulling away, you rubbed your thumb against his cheekbone, smiling at the way his eyes crinkled at the corners with his own matching smile.
"I want to," you said, pressing a quick kiss to his nose. He blushed, smug look crossing his face as his tried to conceal his beam of affection. "You better wine and dine me after this. I didn't put out for nothing."
He laughed again, kissing you as his arms come to embrace you. "How does a shitty dive bar sound?"
Grin wide with the expanse of your teeth, you shook your head at him, "Sounds perfect, Munson."
an: first Eddie fic, lets celebrate, woooo. its a quick one (in my terms, you know I love the buildup). but lmk if this is something that you guys want more of.
masterlist. inbox and requests are open!
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demobatman · 2 years
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‼️ MAJOR STRANGER THINGS VOLUME 2 SPOILER ‼️
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‼️MAJOR STRANGER THINGS VOLUME 2 SPOILER‼️
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marriedtobigfoot · 8 months
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Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.
So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.
Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.
Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.
He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.
He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.
Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.
And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.
By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.
Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.
"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"
Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.
"I don't mind sharing."
Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.
Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.
"Are you really gay?"
Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.
"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."
It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.
"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"
"It's not weird."
"Okay."
Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.
"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."
"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."
"What do you do when it's not enough?"
"Hmmm?"
"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"
Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.
"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."
"Oh."
Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.
"I don't know how to do any of that."
He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.
"Steve...are you lonely?"
Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.
He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.
He panics a little at the sight.
"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."
And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.
Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.
"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.
"I don't know man. I just wish-"
He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.
"What do you wish Steve?"
"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"
It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.
He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.
He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.
Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.
He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.
"Thanks man."
And Eddie takes another leap of faith.
"I could be that person, you know."
"What?"
"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."
Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.
"Just for tonight?"
It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.
"Yeah. For tonight Steve."
"I think...I think I'd like that."
Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.
"Alright sweetheart."
Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.
He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.
He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.
"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."
"Can you tell me about it?"
"Hmmm?"
"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"
And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.
"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"
"The real one."
"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."
Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.
"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"
Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.
"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."
Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.
"That sounds nice."
It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.
*It's only for tonight.*
He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.
But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.
Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.
Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.
But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.
Just for one night.
And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.
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alfapratt · 9 months
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favourite buffyverse male characters from last to first
#10 ● Eldre Koh
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#9 ● Eddie Hope
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#8 ● Charles Gunn
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#7 ● Robert Dowling
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#6 ● Daniel "Oz" Osbourne
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#5 ● Alexander "Xander" Harris
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#4 ● Clem
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#3 ● Andrew Wells
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#2 ● Rupert Giles
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#1 ● William "Spike" Pratt
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bobbie-robron · 1 year
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I just don’t understand why I have to keep telling you about this OVER and OVER. It’s like you don’t believe me or something.
Sorry, Robert, but it’s time to get back to work at the garage. Robert’s ears perk up when he hears Eddie may be wanting to replace the car he just had fixed and later it looks like it’s a sale/trade for Robert! At the hospital, Robert becomes overly frustrated with Elaine who continues to want details about the accident and he further spins the tale to her. Elaine is guilt ridden for having placed Robert in danger. Gifs will be posted separately.
02-Oct-2003
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cyanwyrmy · 3 months
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Oh dear… (cw: needle and syringe)
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(Fan Art!)
I think Eddie is afraid of needles and dreads doing his T-shot each week. It’s not that he doesn’t want the T, but he’d prefer it didn’t come from a nasty poke every Monday. Thank the stars Frank always remembers. Now that I’m thinking about it, Eddie would genuinely forget sometimes if he’d done it. Poor sap.
If it’s not obvious, this is based purely on my experience with T-shots 😅 it might be silly, but it’s a comforting thought to me that Eddie might share my struggle haha. I’m very blessed to have people in my life willing to help me 🩷
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lulalulens · 4 months
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I feel like the tumblerinas may enjoy this one
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hotluncheddie · 3 months
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eddie, steve
.🥞✨
‘uh, the pancakes with bacon please, extra syrup? thanks.’
eddie knows that order. he makes it every saturday night, so late it’s almost morning.
but he’s never heard that voice before, never heard it so close, right by the pass window.
he swallows. turning from the sink in the back to face out into the diner, someone’s sat at the counter, right across from him.
the most beautiful boy eddie’s ever seen.
he’s looking right at eddie, cheeks slightly pink, fiddling with a still wrapped straw. he looks perfect and cozy and adorable, hair sleep rumpled and in a hoodie that swallows up his soft lines, making him look even softer.
‘coming right up.’ eddie rasps, his own cheeks colouring.
but the boy, he smiles. ducks his head, looks up at eddie through his lashes.
eddie’s a fucking goner.
-
steve can’t believe it. his eyes are even bigger this close up, big and brown and sparkling with life.
his hands are just as nice this close up too, delicate but capable as they move around where steve can see. he sticks his tongue out a little when he concentrates. it’s adorable.
he’s the prettiest guy steve’s ever seen.
he puts steves finished pancakes in the window with a little smile, rings the bell and seems to blush even harder. almost cringing at the sound. it’s makes steve laugh, he’s cute.
and they’re still the best pancakes the midwest has to offer, at denny’s, at 3am. even sober and nervous and exited like he is.
steve can’t help closing his eyes like always when he takes his first bite. always blown away by their sweet fluffy texture. and he makes his way through them a little quicker than normal, without robin to distract him.
they taste as good as normal but he’s right there. right there watching steve eat them. something about it makes him feel shy, barely daring to look up from his plate. but when he does the line cook has the softest smile on his face and steve relaxes, tucks his hand under his hoodie to rest on his stomach like normal. finished his pancakes.
when steve looks up again, the guy is staring at his empty plate, kind of stuck in space. but then he vanished for a moment and the door to the kitchen opens. and he’s coming over, picking up the syrupy plate and he has freckles, bats tattooed on his arm.
he’s so close. he’s so pretty this close.
the prettiest guy steve’s ever seen.
‘eddie?’ steve blurts, exited, finally able to read his name tag. his names eddie.
his name is eddie.
eddie’s cheeks get pink, the tips of his ears. he looks at steve with wide eyes ‘yeah?’ he asks, voice small and confused.
steve grins at him. ‘your names eddie.’ and he watched eddie’s smile bloom, he has dimples.
‘wha’ eddie clears his throat. ‘what’s yours?’ and steve feels his heart burst, feels like sunshine and crisp leaves.
‘steve.’ he says, a little breathless.
‘steve.’ eddie whispers.
‘when do you go on break?’ steve asks, heart beating in his throat.
eddie just shrugs, eyes still wide. ‘whenever. as long as there’s no customers in.’ and steve realises he’s the only one here. it makes him blush more, for some reason.
‘make us another batch?’ he asks, deciding to be brave, leaning over the counter, just to be a little closer. ‘we can share.’ and it’s so worth it. to see the smile grow on eddie’s face, watch him nod, watch a curl slip out of his bun. watch him work his magic through that little pass window. stealing glances at steve as he goes.
-
watching steve enjoy his food is even better close up. even better than eddie could’ve imagined.
they’re sitting in steve’s usual booth, eddie’s where robin normally sits, he finally has a name for the cool girl steve hangs out with. gets to hear a little about how they met, can tell he loves her, so much. it’s sweet, his eyes shining as he talks.
so is the way steve cuts the pancakes, sweet, pushing perfectly stacked mouthfuls towards eddie to have. pancake, bacon, pancake. all covered in syrup, sticky and delicious.
eddie never really even liked pancakes much, more of a waffle guy. but sitting here, watching steve eat them, laughing and smiling at things eddie says. jaw just a little soft, upper lip smattered with hair. watching steve sigh and stretch when they’re done. that hand coming to rest on his stomach again, the way it always does, every saturday night.
eddie knows he’ll always love pancakes.
-
‘how do you get them to be so good?’ steve asks, hand circling eddie’s wrist loosely, stopping him before he goes back to his job, an orders come in, he has to go. but steve needs to ask, wants to know. wants one more moment with him.
eddie smiles, takes steve’s hand and kisses the back of it. and it’s so out of place, at denny’s, at 4 am that steve giggles, almost manic. it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to him.
‘they’re made with love sweetheart.’ eddie says, looking up at him from his bow, kissing his hand again before walking away. the napkin with steve’s number on tucked safely in his back pocket.
steve’s forearm scrawled in the black ink of eddie’s own.
steve goes home and falls straight to sleep. so late its almost morning, like every saturday night.
he dreams of brown eyes, and syrup.
<3
fin.
ty for reading! mwah!
@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @spectrum-spectre @stevesbipanic @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @acedorerryn @scoops-aboy86
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