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#lurker steve
magicicephoenix · 1 year
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oh lord they coming
happy 414 day! since last year i did batim enemies, this time it’s batdr allies :)
without text once again under the cut!
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lurkerdelima · 15 days
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Hello! :D Burn it to the wick, please? I'm sooooooo intrigued by the title! <3
Hello there and thank you!! This is a Stranger Things fic I started writing more than a year ago. It’s basically a Steddie PWP! Snippet below.
Even after everything, it takes Steve an embarrassingly long time to realize how much he wants Eddie.
Sure, something in him lit up bright as Christmas when Eddie pinned him to the wall and threatened him with a broken bottle. And yeah, okay, maybe he held onto Eddie’s vest a little longer than was strictly necessary after Eddie so thoughtfully loaned it to him for his modesty.
And- when Eddie gave him that look and said ‘make them pay’? Wow. That was, uh. Stimulating.
Despite all that, it takes Steve a minute. Not because he’s dumb or anything, he’s just- confused, at first. He’s used to liking women - he knows what it means when a woman smiles at him and his heart rate picks up. He knows how to smile and flirt and pretend like he’s not nervous, with women. He knows how to get phone numbers, dates, kisses, more, with women. He’s practically a professional at this point.
But once he figures himself out, decides he’s really going to go for it with Eddie - he realizes pretty quickly that despite his complete lack of experience, it’s not so different, liking men.
Or at least this one man in particular.
Whenever Eddie smiles at him, his heart starts pounding. Soon he’s smiling back, flirting more and more, pretending he’s not as nervous about it as he is. Eddie seems maybe a little surprised at first, and then he leans into it too, blushing when Steve winks at him, calling him ‘big boy,’ giving him that one doe-eyed look. It’s enough to drive a man to distraction.
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bozoexplosion · 1 year
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Real.
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“Something’s really wrong going on in this place. I mean, I’ve seen dead people before. But here… death is like a way of life. A clockwork march. They wheel out the bodies and they disappear down the chute. Forgotten men from the street, paid to die. Three-fifty a week.”
Even after the audio log finished playing, Archie Carter’s bitter voice left a chill creeping over Audrey’s skin. Rubbing her arms in a futile attempt to dispel the uncomfortable sensation, the artist moved on, eager to leave the disturbing message behind.
I finally updated! Woo! I also finally got to include more characters in this story and am looking forward to including more (I’m looking at you, Sammy)!I’m so glad to get this chapter out of the way. I’m trying to be more positive about my writing, so while I might not be 100% happy with how it came out, I’ll just say that I’m really excited about what comes after.
🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
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You have provided so many headcanons and, with a lurker’s thankful heart, I am now giving you my steddie headcanon, built entirely around the idea that Steve knows he’s queer but has no idea at all that he’s kinky. I’m thinking this takes place when Eddie and Robin and Steve have all come out to each other but Eddie hasn’t explained to anyone what that black bandana in his pocket is about; either steddie are pre-slash besties or a recently established relationship.
Steve’s been stressed and Eddie really wants to do something for him, so one day they’re hanging out and Eddie asks what Steve’s idea of the most relaxing day ever is.
Steve’s like “Oh, man, I’d love a day where I don’t have to think, like, at all. Zero decision making.”
“Right, right, a lord in his castle keep, languorous and content with pizza and a constant rotation of movies and high as fuck.” Eddie has already psychically made his way to Family Video and picked up Steve’s favorite films and is mentally on his way to Melvald’s to get all his favorite snacks when Steve interrupts—
“No, no, if it was that easy I could set that up for myself. No I need another person who I really really trust who wouldn’t mind a lot of planning; I’d ask Robin but I think by hour two being in charge she’d start to get bored or start to catastrophize. I could plan the day for her and just let her run it, but that sorta defeats the purpose. Actually,” and he sits up, looks at Eddie consideringly, “actually with those long campaigns you do, I bet you could plan it. And I trust you… it’s kinda weird though.”
Eddie’s like “You know I love weirdos; hit me with it Stevie.”
Steve, starts off slowly, darting looks at Eddie’s face while he talks. “It’s morning, and my alarm isn’t set. Alarm clock isn’t even plugged in. Is it because I’m sleeping in? No— it’s because it is Someone Else’s Responsibility to get me up on time, and I trust them to do it. They wake me up and normally- depending on the day- I’d decide if I’ll shower or take a bath or just wash my face and brush my teeth before doing my hair but not this day.
No, on Steve Doesn’t Think Day they wake me up and tell me how to clean up. I’m in there and they knock on the door and say “hey, Steve, I set your outfit out on the bed. when you’re done get dressed and come to the kitchen.” and I do! I still have a whole closet and wardrobe full of clothes that I don’t have to consider. Does my outfit match the weather? Is it color coordinated? Does it match the plans for the day? It probably is all those things, but I’m not worried about that. I’m just a very good listener, who doesn’t decide things.
And then I go in the kitchen!” Steve, excited, getting into it, starts pacing around. “Are there groceries? Am I cooking breakfast? Are we going to brunch later? Was that budgeted for? Is it a cereal day or a coffee and toast day or a full spread day? There are answers to all of those questions, and whoever woke me up has them. I don’t give a damn. They hand me a cup of coffee, I’m like thank you very much, they’re like of course, Steve, good job, Steve, I’m proud of you, Steve, don’t worry about it, Steve, you let me worry about it. Just. You know, man.
A full day of going places and doing things and not having to stress or plan for it any of it. I don’t have to drive, unless they tell me to drive. I don’t have to talk to other people unless they tell me to talk! Maybe I bitch a little, because complaining is fun!! And they don’t get angry at me for it and their feelings don’t get hurt because they know I’m just gonna listen in the end anyway. Total relaxation, no decisions, complete faith that whoever’s in charge won’t put me in a bad spot.”
And dom top Eddie, white knuckling his black bandana trying really hard not to vibrate apart at a molecular level while he listens to Steve Harrington describe lifestyle submission as his most ideal day, fighting to answer in a calm and level voice: “Steve-o, you’re not gonna believe what I’m about to tell you.”
They have a long conversation and after Eddie’s like I want you to go in the other room and really think about what you want from this because I’ll take charge of you for the day but we need boundaries and guidelines; go consider this seriously for at least an hour. Steve respects Eddie (and also enjoys acts of service and doing what he’s told) so of course he listens. This does lead to Steve repeatedly sticking his head into the room Eddie’s in to say something unhinged, like
“Hey, sometimes when I’m struggling to get out of my own head I purposely wear my starchiest tightest jeans and my tightest polo and it kinda restricts my movement and reach and breathing and brings a constant awareness of my body that I find really grounding — is that bondage and do you think I should be tied up? okay, okay, thanks, restart the hour please.”
It’s a long afternoon for Eddie.
This is.
Art.
This is art.
Thank you for sending this in, please tell me you plan to write more of this because I would love that very much.
I love just about any type of realization Steve has about his kinks, but the one where he just realizes that the stuff he likes is actually very kinky and Eddie is the one to tell him hits every check mark for me.
Thank you thank you thank you for this. I hope you catch every green light on your daily travels and no one ever talks to you unless you want them to. ❤️
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retrodreamgirl · 2 years
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fix this | steve harrington x fem!reader
part one | part two | part three
summary: steve does a little soul searching OR a night of many doors [3.3k]
warnings: angst, established relationship, break up, stancy residue, fem!reader, steve's pov, cliff hanger/ambiguous ending, language, not proofed, lmk if i missed anything
that's all folks! anything else i write for this will either be something that comes to me randomly or that someone requests pre or post breakup bc i kinda want you guys to decide whether she/you take(s) him back or not and how he gains her trust
⤜♡→
Routine has a bitter enemy called the unknown. It's the darkness at a distance, inching and inching before it huddles you into a corner, forced to face the purposely avoided. It pokes and prods at the crevices of your brain, basking in the glow of attention unhindered by the attempts to shove it back into its box. It’s a subtlety, sneaking like a many legged creature awaiting the crush of a foot or a heavy hand. 
Heavy handed is the deliverance of the final blow it bestows before slinking off to the shadows once more, biding time for its next significance. 
The unknown is the bitter enemy of routine. A lurker at heart. It waits for the buildup, allowing itself to be the straw, the last word before the inevitable snap. It’s a concept that watches in fascination and lends its expertise at a moment's notice. 
Notice the end result isn’t always crystal, but dependent. It relies on the body of the thing. Housed on stilts with the decision to break or mend. You are the stilts, two legs heavy of burden and free of direction. The unknown is at your door, not knocking but slipping through the back and resting out of sight. 
The direction is yours and the direction is now, nestled atop shoulders careening with the doubt of what’s to come. 
It’s a confusion, really. One that seeps in without warning, digging claws through the thin material of skin draped over the cage containing an organ beating to its contentment. Such a horrible confusion. 
Love, that is. 
It’s these moments of clarity, body moving without the tandem of the perfect partner, that you wonder about the ache that crawls from your center and inches in vain to the veins wrapping pale arms with the thrum of blood run blue and red when it spills over, oxygen threatening to overwhelm with the need for more.
It’s this feeling and more eating at Steve Harrington. 
At present, his failure to cope with the gaping significance in the hollow of his chest has mutated into a poor work ethic. 
"Next time, if you’re not gonna help me with customers you could at least rewind all the tapes! Halfsies doesn’t apply when I’m stuck playing guess that film for forty minutes." Robin’s grip tightens around Steve’s shoulders, emphasis for words wrought with exasperation. He doesn’t mind much that she’s complaining, thankful that she doesn’t actually force him to pick up the slack these days. "I don't care how long we've been doing this, I lose my mind every fucking time."
"Yeah, pretty sure I'm still waiting for the feeling to come back to my fingers from that tape getting stuck." There’s a sudden deflation in his broad shoulders, already wondering what train of thought will do to distract his brain from the muddled ache nesting there currently. 
He would usually plan to stop off at the house with the white front door, a cozy rug left just beyond the threshold to indulge his feet when he slides his shoes to the corner. He would trail upstairs to find the trace of perfume leading right to your bedroom and push forward on his toes to gauge your mood for the evening. He could always tell by the low leakage of music filtering beneath the door, heightened only when his ear pressed into the wood.
He would knock twice, wait, then rap his knuckle a third time. A secret code and a letter of love reserved for the moments before he could shower you with affection up close.
Now he can hardly remember the last time he felt the cool harshness of the door and heard the melodic tune of “come in” only to find you most times splayed on the thickness of your lilac rug. You would reach for him and he would find you with immediacy.
“So, what’ll it be?” Robin pierces the connection of his brain to the warmth of the memory, forcing him back to the frigid emptiness of the parking lot.
“What?” 
“Takeout and a movie? Stopping at the diner? I’m so hungry I don’t even care what we have, your choice...but you’re also buying.” 
Steve’s step is a stutter just before the handle of the car door, concrete propelling him to catch himself on the exterior, glistening in the golden glow of street lamps. Robin’s lips part to comment on his clumsy disposition, but his eyes are steadied on the placement of his feet and his mind resides anywhere but the stick of his sneakers to the night soaked blacktop. 
She waits for him to proceed, but he seems unaware that there was a question meant to be answered, or is rather opposed to partaking in their usual verbal give and take. 
“What?” Steve senses the build in his chest, an impending thing that answers Robin’s confusion before the jumble of Steve’s first failed attempt. It’s rapid and daunting the way it beats against his skin. He wonders if his chilled hand slid past the barrier of his coat and through his polo would he feel the rough outline of the organ turned grotesque in its confusion. 
“Yeah! I just…well the thing is…” He takes his time sliding into the car, twirling his keys between his fingers.
“Oh yeah, I totally get that.” Robin attempts to lighten the mood, but the bright lights of a passing pickup zero in on their pupils focused forward to avoid the oddity occurring in the front seat. Steve’s lips have come to a repetitious open close, his mouth the net that can’t seem to catch the right words. “Listen, if you aren’t gonna spit it out could you at least start the car I’m–” 
Screeching. She was in fact screeching following the dramatic shift of the vehicle when rough hands pushed against the passenger window and the douse of darkness was too much for either of their eyes to adjust to after the previous bright dilation. Steve is quick to catch on, his hands shoving the key into the ignition, rolling Robin’s window down so a head with fiery hair spilling over the shoulder peers in. 
“Can I catch a ride?” Max pokes at the skin of Robin’s cheek. Steve’s sure her scowl managed to trick the muscles when Max’s hands lift to feign defense and she sends Steve a confused glance. “What’s with her?” 
“What are you doing here?” Steve ignores the question, waving Max into the backseat where she happily pokes her head between the front two. 
“I skated here. Was bored.” 
“I’m not an entertainment service, ya know.” 
“Big words from a guy wearing that vest.” She points to the deep green Family Video uniform dressing Steve down in the glaring uncertainty of his minimum wage future. “Anyway, I was actually hoping you would drop me off at Mike’s.”
“And you couldn’t just board the rest of the way there because…?” Robin drones, pawing at the dial on the radio, flipping through stations riddled with static unsure of which tune they’re actually meant to be playing. 
The whole situation is surprisingly irritable, a mean streak that could never be cured entirely, making itself ever present in Steve with the increasing progression of The Breakup. A title bestowed by everyone not involved, certainly one that sets Steve even further to a reason where he remains stood on the cliffside of eternal nothingness.
“Because it’s getting dark and I don’t know about you guys, but I’m not an idiot.” 
“Dude, I don’t wanna take you to Mike’s house.” A stupid thing, but a guilt that clutches at his collar, wondering if its the moment you sidle by, spotting his car in the clutches of your end all. Something he still doesn't entirely understand, if only because he’s convinced himself it’s better not to. A stupid thing, but he’s nothing if not purusuasive to a fault. 
“Because Nancy will be there? You know that avoiding her isn’t gonna make Y/n come back, right? I don’t even know if she’s actually left her house for anything other than school and even then none of us actually see her around.”
“Yeah, didn’t you have to crawl through her window the other night just to talk to her.” Robin adds, settling on Air Supply for a reason Steve thinks is altogether removed from her own tastes. “If you want her to take you back you’re gonna have to do some serious soul searching, Harrington. Do you want her back?”
“What the hell kinda question is that?” 
“It’s a fair one because it’s been weeks, Steve. You think she hasn’t noticed that you’ve seemingly moved on?” Max tilts her head, obscuring Robin and imploring Steve to focus on the candor of her ocean blue. 
“She thinks I’ve moved on?” He mumbles, adjusting himself in his seat, the sash of his seatbelt suddenly suffocating. “Well I haven’t.”
“Funny way of showing it—”
“Look, Mayfield, you don’t get it! You don’t understand how frustrating this whole thing is. I thought we were fine, perfect really. Somehow I’m always the last to know when things aren’t.” The words are sharp, an edge cutting against the buds of his tongue where his teeth dig into the fleshy muscle. “...and this time I don’t even really know why. I’m tired of apologizing when I don’t have anything to apologize for.”
“Just. Take me to Mike’s, please?”  
“Whatever, but you can get someone else to take you home.”
“Whatever.”  
The ride to the Wheeler’s is mostly silent. Mostly, because the deafening pause is too much for Robin who cuts in every so often with commentary about the passing scenery or a tangent that no one is really listening to. 
Steve pulls to the edge of the Wheeler’s drive, not daring to pass the line of the mailbox, and glances back when Max doesn’t move. She has the audacity to look at him riddled with guilt when she nods toward the house. 
“You should talk to her.” 
“What? Max I swear, if you don’t get out of this car right now I will—”
“You’ll what? Not much a man of action these days, Harrington.” She’s taunting, Robin looking between the two of them like she’s stuck deciding whether she should intervene. Max doesn’t make any move to get out of the car, rather she burrows herself further into her hoodie and watches Steve expectantly. She wins either way, a step toward retribution if he gets out of the car and a point proven if he doesn’t. 
It’s the reason he now finds himself stationed outside of the Wheeler’s front door, hoping that anyone but Nancy answers, a last ditch to turn around and pretend he tried his best. He can feel the burning in his chest, the desire to know what good could possibly come from this, if there is a hope for something with Nancy beyond the horrible darkness. 
It’s a sick feeling, one he can’t remember having prior to this moment. A realization burning through the adolescent wandering of a heart unmended.
“Steve.” Nancy falters immediately, sweater bunching up where she wraps her arms around her frame. She glances over his shoulder, noting the glaring headlights of his BMW. “What are you doing here?” 
“I uh…I’m not really positive. But I think we need to talk.” She nods, stepping aside to allow him into the house. He doesn’t proceed, hand swiping at the back of his neck, an accumulation of something always seeming to nag at the exposed piece of skin. “Maybe we could do it out here?” 
“Sure.” She closes the front door, shouldering the frame while Steve stares straight ahead, at the seasonal wreath hanging from it. 
“I don’t think I ever got over you and everything that happened.” He finally manages, the words feeling like tar the way they worked their way up slowly and coated his mouth until he spit them out. A harsh truth buried beneath the guise of friendship, something he never saw the same way as you. “I don’t really know why, well I probably do but I’m never really able to admit it.” 
“What do you want me to say, Steve? I apologized and I’ve moved on…I don’t know what to say.” It irks him, her dismissal of his admission. It’s not an expectation for her to reciprocate, but a hint of empathy would do in a situation altogether unfamiliar. It reminds him of being with her in the beginning and the way it slowly cooled off near the end. Never any intention of hateful brushoffs but it’s certainly how it felt at the time. 
“I want you to say that you know, because I think you do. Maybe you don’t do it on purpose but you do use it to your advantage.” It’s like a glimmer in the underbrush, an opening for him to take and he’s pushing past the thickness with as much grace as possible but he’s bound to get stuck eventually. “We never hung out when Jonathan was here. It’s a fact, and it’s fine but why is it that I’m always the first person you come to when it gets to be too much?”
“Because I know you’ll be there—”
“Because you know I’d do anything for you. Because I’m the idiot who’s still stuck in senior year, with a girl who left me behind when—” He catches himself, that streak pushing against the back of his teeth. He doesn’t mean it all to sound so bitter, but the festering anger at his own desperation is hard to ignore. “The thing is, Nance, I can’t be that person for you anymore. There is a girl who loves me, who loves me more than anyone, probably more than I deserve and she thinks I don’t feel the same because I’ve been too caught up in something that doesn’t exist anymore.”
“I’m sorry…” She mutters, Steve catching a glimpse of wetness against her cheek before she swipes it away as quickly as it appeared. “You’re right and it’s not fair to you…or Y/n. I guess…I guess I’m just mad that he’s gone and I wanted to go back to junior year when my biggest problem was what I should wear the next time I see you.”
“Nance—” 
“No, you’re right. Whatever we had, it’s not here anymore and it hasn’t been for a long time. You’re such a good friend to me Steve, but that’s it and I have to stop letting you believe it’s anything more than that.” She nods, stepping just a little closer, her hand resting against his cheek with a soft smile. “She loves you more than I ever could, and you deserve it, but she deserves it too. To be loved that way.” 
“Maybe I’m not the guy for her because all I can seem to do is hurt her.” 
“That’s not true. I think you just needed to see things for what they really are, to know everything else was just some stupid desire to chase the past. You should go to her, before it really is some other guy.” She half shoves him, his feet skittering against the concrete.
“Thanks, Nance.”
“Thanks Steve.” 
He jogs back to the car, not a word uttered to either of his passengers before he’s setting off in the direction of your house. The two girls exchange looks, half hopeful with a hint of confusion. 
“What happened?” Max taps at his shoulder, jerking when he makes an especially sharp turn. “Can you maybe drive like a normal person!?”
“Yeah, we’re still in the car, dingus! Both of us live the other way, just in case you were wondering.” 
“I wasn’t, but thanks for the tip.” He counters, coming to a stop in front of your house. He tugs his arms out of his work vest, sliding his hands through his hair giving the strands an unkempt look. Then he just sits.
“Are you gonna go in?” Steve is too far gone to know who said it, every possible scenario of the moment he sees you again swirling in his brain, all of the worst ones popping out like a jack-in-the-box. 
“I think he’s just gonna sit there.” 
“Both of you shut up! I’m going.” This time he does, a foreign feeling walking the length of your driveway. Again, he can’t remember the last time he’d done it, muscle memory saving him from the uneven plate of concrete along the path to your front door. 
He’d stored it in the back of his brain after your third date, he carried you to your room when you twisted your ankle, far too proud to admit how badly it hurt until he peeled your sock from your ankle to see it already angry and swelling. There’s a ghost tugging at the corner of his lips, dusting a smile in place of the lined skin when he lifts his fist to the door. 
“Steve! It’s been a while, I was wondering when I’d see you again.” It’s your mom, the skin around her eyes coming off more tired than usual, but her smile is as radiant as ever when she ushers him into the house. She mentions something about dinner sometime soon and he nods absently before she leaves him to brave the trek upstairs in solitude. 
It’s routine from there, the way he shuffles out of his shoes and wiggles his toes against the fluffy rug as he sets them aside. He’s slower than usual, afraid of what will or won’t happen when he ascends the stares.
He’s suddenly all too aware that he’s empty handed, not that he thinks you’d expect something but it still feels wrong to show up after so much time has passed. He’s aware it’s the longest you’ve been apart since you started seeing each other. He feels even worse.
When he steps onto the landing he can see light filtering beneath your door, but not much. He imagines you must be relying on light by wick again, can picture the array of candles systematically dancing along your dresser. He would periodically advise you against them, the time he found you asleep with them scaring him half to death, but the whole of it was a fondness he couldn’t do without. The warmth of the candles and the soft lighting creating the perfect space to exist as just the two of you. 
He’s outside of your door now, his thoughts distracting him from the gait to the end of the hall. He leans forward on his toes, ear pressing against the door. The vibration is hopeful and he’s sure he catches a lyric or two from some Stevie Nicks song he doesn’t know the name of. His nerves have the better of him, unable to decipher the mood the lyrics or the instrumental are giving off. 
He could turn back now and you would never know. 
He almost laughs at the thought, doesn’t because you’ll hear and the last thing he needs is for you to think he’s mocking you from the other side of your bedroom door. It’s funny because it wasn’t even a thought to come here, it was just something that he knew. Something he knows, the love for you pounding in his chest. Now he’s standing out here, unsure if you wanna see him or if you’ll ignore the gentle singing of his fists.
He knocks twice, waits, then rap his knuckle a third time.
He waits a beat, wondering if you hadn’t heard or if you had and he’s making a fool of himself. His fist is half raised, his right foot turned back toward the stairs, unsure whether to stay or go when he hears it. It’s faint, low beneath the rumbling of your cassette player, but it’s there.
“Come in.” 
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naiad-r · 1 year
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House of the filthy, house not a home House of destruction where the lurkers roamed House that belonged to all the homeless kids Kids of the black hole
The point of Canon Divergence for punk!Steve: his first encounter with the Upside Down was nearly fatal. A lot harder to ignore the ghost in your pool when you have a scar that reminds you of it 24/7.
[Image description: Realistic two-tone drawings consisting of two parts. First: Steve is standing before a mirror, hunched over. One of his hands is on the mirror, the other is holding scissors. He's looking down at the scissors, glaring tiredly. There's a scar left by a Demogorgon's bite, wrapped around his right arm, right half of his chest, reaching up to his neck. The ghost of Barb is standing behind him. The word 'BULLSHIT' is written in red on the mirror. Second: Steve is cutting his hair. One hand is covering his neck, the other is holding the scissors, mid-snip. He has a sidecut now. His eyes are closed, his expression less severe.]
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village-skeptic · 4 months
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I was tagged in this "get to know you" meme by both @booksandabeer and @stars-inthe-sky - but it has slightly different questions! I've synthesized them, LOL. Thanks for the tag, you guys!
last song: "The Letter," The Box Tops, followed by "The Letter," Joe Cocker. No one make me choose! The former is a perfect, crisp, driving little pop/soul gem; the latter is a live performance that you've probably heard so often that it's easy to forget just how good it is. It feels like everyone on that recording is operating at the height of their powers, and the result is this towering, ecstatic, howling, joyous track that will be stuck in your head for the rest of the day if you're lucky.
currently reading: a manuscript for work that I wouldn't pick up if it wasn't for work, LOL. Last few books, though: Eleanor Catton, Birnam Wood (def recommend, I keep thinking about this one); Thomas Mallon, Fellow Travelers and Up With The Sun (sometimes you have Questions about an author and the only thing to do is to read more of their work; more on that eventually maybe).
last film: Never Let Me Go. Quite simply, I had trouble entering into the spirit of the thing (the concept doesn't really hold up upon examination and I'm not sure I buy the larger analogy), but the book is supposed to be fantastic, of course. I did enjoy baby Keira Knightley, Carey Mulligan, and Andrew Garfield though.
currently watching: The final season of The Crown, more out of curiosity than anything else. I'm finding it very...mid? Is that what the kids are saying? The show peaked a while back, but Elizabeth Debicki's performance as Diana continues to be shockingly good and worth the price of admission. Also, as per my recent reads, watching Fellow Travelers, on track to finish up next week. Waiting to say more about that til I've seen the whole series, but I will say that I have gained a lot of respect for Jonathan Bailey!
three ships: I feel a bit like I'm between fandoms right now, but I can always be talked into reading some good Betty/Jughead, Steve/Bucky, and, uh, *looks at her bookmarks* Crowley/Aziraphale.
favorite color: purple!
currently consuming: About to consume some homemade spinach tortellini soup. (Well, okay. Mostly homemade. The tortellini isn't my own. There are limits.)
relationship status: old married :D
first ship: Hmm! I guess maybe Rachel/Tobias, way back to my preteen Animorph days? Although I certainly did not get into fic for shippy purposes, as @stirringsofconsciousness can verify.
currently working on: desperately needed post-holiday cleaning, honestly. And a bunch of little art projects!
tagging (as ever, with no obligation): @lurker-no-more , @jandjsalmon , @pantsaretherealheroes, @ballroompink
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supercap2319 · 1 year
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Y/N thinks they did this on purpose. He was outside minding his own business and was walking around when he noticed a very naughty scene going on. There was Steve and Bucky, naked as the day they were born the sun's heat was turning their skin flushed pink with heat as they turned on the water hose and began to wet themselves with it. Y/N gulped as he watched the water cascade down their naked and hard bodies, the two soldiers throwing their heads back, running the water everywhere around them. That's when they locked their eyes and kissed, soft and sweet and Y/N's pretty sure he had a raging hard on now.
"Looks like we got us a lurker, Punk." Bucky turned his head and smiled at Y/N.
Steve turned to Y/N too and smiled with a blush. "You like whatcha see, Sweetheart?"
Y/N nods and blushed.
"Why don't you come join us?"
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kingstevecoded · 4 months
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welcome to my blog
hey everyone! i've been a long time lurker and finally decided to pull the plug and make my own blog. i had an aesthetic tumblr from 2012-2017, but i have a lot of pictures of me on there and some of my irl friends still follow it.
i'll mostly be posting stranger things content, but i do dabble in the harry potter fandom as well. steve harrington is my comfort character so most of my writing/posts will center around him. some of my favorite ships are: wolfstar, ronance, jily, jegulus, dorlene, lumax and platonic stobin.
i'd love to make some mutuals! i'm so excited to finally get to interact with all of your posts finally! :)
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lurkerdelima · 2 years
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does Steve Harrington canonically have a middle name?
because Joseph would be really funny no
tell me this doesn’t look like a Steven J. Harrington to you
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crissyfarts · 1 year
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I participated in my first ever art exchange with the lovely @llamalpaca!! Colors by me and lines by @llamalpaca.
Steve/Eddie "First Date" mini-art exchange for the ever anticipated Big Bang!
Check out their account for the other half of this piece!!!
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This was really fun. I'm a long time lurker in all things fandom and never really participated. I've been missing out because this was a great experience. Plus any time we get to draw these two dorks is a win.
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fandomohana · 1 year
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1986 Will Be Their Year {Eddie Munson x Plus Size Henderson Sister Reader} Chapter Five
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Henderson Sister Reader
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 4300+
Summary: We've reached the end of the season, Eddie's battle, his rescue, and love confessions. 💙
Authors note: Eddie's rescue scene was inspired by the song Burning by Yeah Yeah Yeahs. When there is mention of Eddie being a coward, that is Eddie talking to Eddie. We know our boy is no coward. 💙
Eddie Munson Masterlist
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As the RV rolled down the lone highway, the gentle swaying began to lull members of the group into a gentle doze, Y/N being one of them. With the adrenaline wearing off, Eddie noticed her head begin to loll to the side while her eyes struggled to stay open. In time, the rhythm of the road was too much for her, and her head tipped to the side, finding Eddie’s shoulder, her breath softly fanning out across his neck. His heart skipped a beat as the warmth radiating from her body spread to his own, wrapping him in comfort. He had to stop himself from moving his arm, itching to drape it across her shoulders, and bring her closer into his side. She remained this way, sleeping comfortably for several minutes after the vehicle stopped, to Eddie’s delight, until her head lolled slightly, breaking her slumber.  
Becoming aware of her surroundings, Y/N’s head shot up, eyes wide, “Shit! I’m so sorry! God...tell me I didn’t drool...” She put her head in her hands, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Pretty girl falls asleep on me, I can think of worse situations to be in.” He says with a sly grin, before her other words finally registered, “Wait. You drool?” He couldn’t help the smile in his words.
Not moving her face from its hiding place, Y/N slightly mumbles, “Yes...”
Eddie chuckles, pulling a hand away from her face, “Let’s put this into perspective. We’re both covered in bat blood, lake shit, and I don’t even know what else. A little drool is the least of my concerns, but if it makes you feel better.” He checks his jacket sleeve, and his shirt. “All dry, Princess.”
Y/N shifts her eyes, giving him a sideways glance.
“There she is.” Eddie grins.
Her other hand drops from her face, a self-conscious smile on her face, “Thanks, Eddie.”
The moment is quickly broken when Steve pulls open the door of the RV, and throws a bag in Eddie’s face.
--------------------
Steve, Dustin, and Y/N stood beside the RV, the entire scene shielded by the towering Brimborn Steel Works.
“Are you sure we can trust her?” Steve asked hesitantly, eyes still surveying the entire area for lurkers.
“Me and Dustin trust her with our lives, she’s our cousin, have some faith.” Y/N shuffled from one foot to the other.
Within a moment of their exchange, tires on gravel could be heard as a vehicle came down the long drive to the abandoned building. All three held their breath, waiting to see exactly who came around the corner. Dustin and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief as they saw a blue Cutlass slow to a stop several feet away, and a tall woman, still dressed in scrubs, emerged from the vehicle.
“Dusty, Y/N, what is going on? Aunt Claudia is freaking out!” The newcomer reprimands the pair.
“Tori, we need your help, but you have to trust us.” Dustin implored.
Tori looked around, becoming concerned by her cousin’s behavior, “What is happening?”
Y/N turned her head to the RV, and called out, “Eddie.”
The door opened, and Eddie appeared before the group, noting how Tori’s face began to pale, and praying this had been a good idea.
“What the fuck is going on?! Isn’t that the kid they’re looking for? Why is he with you?!” Tori shrieks.
“Calm down, please! He didn’t do anything, I swear to god! Just trust us, please.” Dustin begged.
Tori eyes Eddie up and down, “Okay.” She says slowly, “I’m listening.”
“Steve, Eddie,” Y/N began, “This is our cousin, Tori, Dr. Victoria Henderson. Steve, please lift up your shirt.”
Steve grabbed the hem of the newly acquired shirt, and began to pull it off his frame. He tosses the shirt to Dustin, and begins to pull the taped gauze away from his skin, exposing the fresh wounds to the doctor.
Tori gasped, “Oh my God, what happened to you?!” She rushes to Steve’s side, inspecting the wounds.
“That’s why we need your help. There are crazy things happening in Hawkins, things that defy logic...things you won’t believe, until you see them.” Dustin spoke solemnly.
The small group explained to Tori, exactly what was plaguing Hawkins, hoping she would believe them, despite the incredulous look on her face.
“So, you want me to believe there is some parallel dimension under Hawkins? You do realize how this sounds, right? I could have you all put under 72-hour observation.”
“Have we ever lied to you?” Y/N asked solemnly.
Tori looked at Steve’s wounds again, she had seen plenty of animal bites, but nothing like this, and her cousins did look scared. She let out a sigh, “Say I believe you, what exactly do you want from me?”
“These little bastards are everywhere in the Upside Down,” began Steve, “We don’t stand a chance without someone on the other side, ready to patch us back up.”
“You want me to run a triage, right? Where exactly would this take place?”
“The Munson trailer, it’s our best way back in. Please, Tori, we wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t an emergency.” Dustin was practically begging.
Tori looked to Eddie then, “Look me in the eyes, and tell me you didn’t do this.”
Eddie looked to Y/N, who nodded reassuringly, before looking directly into the doctor’s eyes. “I’ll swear on anything you want, I didn’t hurt anyone. I know what people are saying about me, what they’ve always said, but I swear...it’s...none of it is true.”
His eyes were wide, imploring. Tori had some training in psychology, she had seen liars, this kid wasn’t lying. This kid was traumatized.
Taking a steadying breath, Tori gives her answer, “I believe you. I’ll do what I can, but I have to get supplies from the hospital. Give me a time, and the address, I’ll bring a couple of my nurse friends.”
At her words, Dustin and Y/N launch themselves into the older woman, hugging her, and raining a chorus of, thank you, on her. Tori wraps her cousins into a hug, promising them that she would help.
After being given an arrival time, and address to the trailer, Tori waves goodbye to the group, before returning to her car, and disappearing down the road.
--------------------
The sound of metal on metal pierced the air in the wooded clearing, and mingled with the sound of quiet conversation. Eddie and Dustin each drove nails into their respective trash can lids, creating makeshift shields, while Y/N tore rags to wrap around small tree limbs to create torches, another form of defense for the group.
Finishing their task, Eddie lifts the studded shield, “How’s she feeling?” asked Dustin.
Eddie responds with a flourish of the studded lid, “Light. But durable.” Thrusting the shield into the sky, he continued, “Deadly. But reliable.”
Both Dustin and Y/N chuckle from their places on the ground, torch making put on hold to watch the unfolding scene.
Eddie points dramatically in the direction of the two on the ground, lowering his voice to a grizzled growl, “Hear me now.” He lifts his arm toward the air, in a heroic pose, “There will be no more retreating...” Moving out of his previous pose, his voice returns to normal as he proclaims, “from Eddie the Banished.” A coy grin playing on his face, as he pats the shield at his side.
Rising from his kneeled position, and lifting his own shield, “Hey, you’re really ready for bat-tle.” Replied Dustin with a grin, and goofy chuckle.
Y/N rolled her eyes, uttering a simple, “oh lord...” in response to her brother’s antics.
Eddie, however, appeared less than amused as Dustin continued, “You get it?” Eddie continued his deadpan stare toward the younger boy. “Bat-tle. B-A-T.” The look on the older boy’s face remained stoic. “No?” Dustin groaned, looking toward the ground, dejected. “I thought I had a good one.”
Dustin places his shield on the ground, not noticing the swift movement by his side, as Eddie discarded his own shield, and proceeded to tackle the younger boy.
“What are you doing?” Came Dustin’s breathless reply.
Y/N’s voice could be heard over the grunts, yelling, “Eddie, don’t break him, my mom will kill me! Bruises, no lost limbs, I’m serious.”
Eddie laughed, and reassured her that he would do no permanent damage to the boy, as he pushed Dustin from him.
With a breathy, “You son of a bitch!” Dustin launches into Eddie’s torso, pushing the older boy like a tackling dummy, until Eddie’s hand creeps into wedgie territory, and being greeted by Dustin’s cry of, “No wedgies! No wedgies!”
Eddie pulls Dustin up, clapping his hands onto either side of the younger boy's shoulders, “Never change, Dustin Henderson.” Looking into his eyes, and cradling Dustin’s neck, Eddie continued, “Promise me?”
Shaking his head, sobriety overtaking his features, Dustin assures him, “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good.” Comes Eddie’s reply, a smile playing on his lips. “Good.” He says again, urging Dustin with a tilt of his head.
Still on the ground, Y/N looked on at the display, a wistful smile playing across her lips, happy to see both boys more relaxed, and lighthearted. Eddie couldn’t know in that moment, how Y/N’s attraction to him grew while she watched them.
Eddie breaks the moment, patting Dustin on the shoulder before calling out, “Hey, Sinclairs. How are those, uh...those spears coming on?
--------------------
With shields, torches, and weapons prepared, the group loaded up the RV, and head toward an unknown future.
Eddie was flanked on his right by Dustin, Y/N to his left, her small backpack of kerosene-soaked torches riding on the floor between her feet. Silence enveloped the space, each person contemplating their futures, their role in the battle to come, and steeling their resolve. A furtive look passed between Eddie and Y/N, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms, and keep her safe.
The RV rolled to a stop in front of the abandoned Creel house. While none of the passengers spoke, the prevailing thought was shared by all, would they live to see each other again? Would this be the battle that would irrevocably tear the party apart? Only time would tell as the RV continued on its path, after Erica, Lucas, and Max departed.
In the dimly lit RV, Nancy went through the plan once again, verifying each participant knew their place, Dustin, Eddie, and Y/N being on bat patrol as part of phase three. The group breaks, entering the silent trailer park, moving with purpose toward the Munson trailer.
--------------------
Before the group could enter through the gate in the trailer’s ceiling, a soft knocking could be heard on the door. Y/N cracked the door open, revealing Tori, and two strangers. All three had arms full of medical supplies, the entire group sighed in relief, the cavalry had arrived.
Entering the space, the eyes of the new women were drawn to the ceiling, and the horrifying sight of red sinew, gazing back like a gaping wound.
“Holy shit...” Tori mumbled, eyes wide in shock.
“Do you believe us now?” Dustin asked.
No words escaped the newcomers' lips, only a trio of nodding heads, unable to fully comprehend what was happening.
Tori shook herself from her stupor, “This is Pam,” she pointed to the redheaded woman whose eyes were still locked in place. “And this is Angela,” she added, pointing to the blonde woman. “We went through school together; I trust them with my life. We’ll set up the triage here, and wait for your signal.”
“Thanks, Tori.” Y/N gave her cousin a quick hug, before leaving the three women to set up their makeshift hospital.
Steve climbs through the opening in the ceiling first, before moving the mattress to catch the other members of the team, as they pass through the opening. Each member takes their turn going through, weapons being tossed through between bodies, until Y/N was up. Climbing her Hobbit ladder on their side, and expecting to climb down the ladder in the Upside Down, she had a moment of confusion when Eddie, again, held out his arms to catch her. Y/N’s descent was less traumatic this time, trusting Eddie’s strength. Despite the dire situation, Eddie couldn’t help the flutter in his chest as her warmth landed, once again, in his arms. Holding her felt natural, and he hoped he would have more chances in the future, in happier situations, to hold her again.
The trailer door squeaks open, as the group filed out into the open. Steve turned to face Dustin, Eddie, and Y/N, “Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all,” he emphasized, “you abort. Okay? Draw the attention of the bats. Keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be cute or be a hero or something. Okay? You guys are just---”
“Decoys.” Steve and Dustin respond together.
“We can’t do that, Steve.” Came Y/N’s reply, before she squeezed her brother’s cheeks between her fingers, “We can’t not be cute, look at this face!”
Steve rolled his eyes, as Dustin continued, after freeing his face from his sister’s grip, “Don’t worry, you can be the hero, Steve.”
“Absolutely.” Drawled Eddie. “I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.” Eddie chuckled. As Steve began to walk away, Eddie spoke again, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”
--------------------
With the rest of the group on the move, Eddie, Dustin, and Y/N set to work fortifying the trailer. The trio used a tarp to pull spare debris, metal, and chain link fence sections, toward the trailer, where Eddie secured the found pieces.
Stepping back, the group observes the fruit of their labor. Chain link, sheet metal, and planks adorned any weak spots, or entry points to the trailer.
“Not bad.” Eddie commented.
“Not bad at all.” Came Dustin’s reply.
“Now for the fun part.” Eddie added.
The group burst through the bedroom door, Eddie stopping short when his eyes fall on his guitar, “Jesus Chr...” came his breathy response, before his voice took on a tone of reverence, and awe, “It’s like...she was destined for an alternate dimension. What do you say, Hendersons?” He reaches out, gripping the guitar in front of him by the bridge, gazing upward, “Are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?” His voice dreamy, as he glanced back at the Henderson siblings.
“Is that a rhetorical question?” Dustin responded with a soft chuckle.
Slinging the instrument across his back, his face taking on an air of excitement, “Let’s do it.”
Eddie, Dustin, and Y/N stood perched on the roof of the trailer, when Robin’s voice came across the walkie talkie, “She’s in. Move on to phase three.”
“Copy that. Initiating phase three.” Dustin relayed, before reaching for the extension cord, plugging in the amp. “Let’s hope they hear this.”
Eddie’s stony gaze looked out across the darkness, “Chrissy, this is for you.” He bites out, ripping the chain holding his pic, from his neck, not noticing the brief look of hurt that crossed Y/N’s face. With a shout, Eddie tore into Metallica’s Master of Puppets, the sound of the chords ripping across the silent landscape.
Dustin and Y/N kept look out, monitoring the swarm with binoculars, and alerting Eddie as the beasts came closer, “We gotta lock down in T-minus 30 seconds!” Dustin called.
“T-minus 20!” Y/N cried.
The final warning came from Dustin, “T-minus 10!” As Eddie began the finishing flourishes of the solo.
Y/N’s voice carried through the air, as the final strings echoed, “One!”
The trio raced from the roof of the trailer, onto the cab of a parked truck, into the bed, and raced across to their makeshift cage, Eddie slamming the door as he passed the threshold.
Through the sound of panting, Dustin could be heard exclaiming, “Dude! Most metal ever!” Followed by Eddie’s breathless, “Oh my...oh my God.” The pair finished with screams, and excited jumping.
--------------------
The sound of crashing, and screeching could be heard by the three humans inside the improvised stronghold. All three circled the middle of the room, backs to each other, Dustin and Eddie holding spears and shields, Y/N holding a torch in one hand, and Eddie’s lighter in the other.
An eerie silence broke over the space, as the swarm suddenly silenced. Eddie could feel the slight shuddering coming from Y/N.
Dustin’s voice pierced the silence, “Hey, dipshits! Give up that easy, huh?”
Eddie shushed Dustin as his sister smacked him, “Is that really necessary?” Growled Eddie.
Clattering could be heard overhead as three sets of eyes turned upward, “They’re on the roof.” Eddie said calmly.
A small chorus of, shit, could be heard coming from the two Hendersons. Eddie, Dustin, and Y/N began to creep through the living room of the trailer, stepping closer to the sounds of scuffling coming from the roof.
“They can’t get in through there, can they?” Dustin asked while gazing at the air vent in the ceiling.
A breath later, the vent burst open to reveal the head of a demobat, as it attempted to force its way into the trailer. The demonic creature was greeted by Dustin and Eddie’s spears, as they tore into the beast's flesh.
Eddie realized, quickly, that with the vent open, the three would be outnumbered rapidly. He glanced around, looking for something to slow the horde, as Dustin screamed for him.
“Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” Eddie screamed as he pulled a chair from the small dining table. He placed the chair directly beneath the hole, and grabbed a shield. With a scream, he jammed the shield into the ceiling, blocking the hole, and thwarting the screeching monsters. “Holy shit. Holy shit.” came Eddie’s panted reply.
“Nice.” Y/N gasped out from below.
“Thanks.” He breathed out, giving each Henderson a low five.
As the three caught their breath, Dustin spoke, “Are there any other vents?”
“Oh shit.” was all Eddie could reply, as he jumped from the chair, and dove toward his bedroom.
A small horde burst from the corner of the room as the three began to enter, forcing them into a retreat, while Eddie slammed the door.
As the door began to splinter, and falter under the weight of the beasts, Dustin cried out, “That’s not gonna hold!”
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” Eddie screamed over the sound of cracking wood.
The Hendersons didn’t need to be told twice, Dustin began climbing the rope, while Y/N scaled the Hobbit ladder.
Eddie could hear Y/N’s voice from the other side, urging him through. He grabbed the sheet rope, preparing to hoist himself toward the ceiling, and to safety, until his own words replaying in his mind, stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t run. Instead, he grabbed a spear, easily slicing through the rope to the horror of the two Hendersons above him.
Pushing the mattress from under the hole, and slinging a spear across his back, Eddie looks up and tells the pair, “I’m buying more time.”
Crashing through the door of the trailer, Eddie ran toward the discarded bike. He wouldn’t run this time. He wouldn’t be a coward, not again.
--------------------
Eddie raced through the trailer park, leading the swarm behind me, and screaming, “Come get me, you sons of bitches!”
Whatever came next, he was ready. Dustin and Y/N were safe. Eddie wasn’t going down without a fight.
As Eddie maneuvered the bike, a demobat swooped from the sky, ramming him from the bike, into the hard ground. After the momentum of the fall put an end to his rolling, Eddie brought himself back to his feet, and continued to run, the swarm on his trail.
His own words began to replay in his head, stopping him in his tracks, ‘I didn’t know what to do, so I...I...I ran away. I just ran, and I left her there. I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.’
Eddie turned to face the swarm, drawing his shield and spear, he would go down fighting. No more running. The swarm struck with ferocity, his shield holding them back temporarily, as they bounced off the thin metal.
He was able to keep them at bay for a time, but soon he could feel their teeth begin to tear at his flesh, his knees going weak as the ground rose up to meet him. This was it, he was going to die here. He closed his eyes against the onslaught, giving over to his fate.
But then he heard it, in the midst of the swarm, thundering footsteps neared him. Eddie could feel the presence of someone else above him as he willed a single eye open. There she was, like a goddamn Valkyrie riding into battle, two torches in her hands, slinging the burning wood into the demobats around him. Raising his head, he clocked Dustin, shield in one hand, flaming torch in the other, setting the swarm alight.
It only took a few demobats being set ablaze, and crushed under Y/N’s foot, to set the swarm into chaos. He could hear her guttural screams as she pulled bats from his body, and turned each into fireballs. The area quickly silenced, the swarm alight, and in a state of mayhem, as they fled.
Eddie drifted in and out, pulled to his feet, pressure added to the wounds littered across his body, as his torch wielding rescuers blazed a path through the few remaining bats, and to the trailer. He had the sensation of being raised up, hands pulling on him, and a short feeling of weightlessness, before his world went completely black.
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Eddie felt himself floating in the inky black of dreamless sleep, the agonizing pain he had felt before, was a distant memory. But in the back of his mind, he felt a pulling, the need to swim toward consciousness, began to pull him through the darkness around him. He had to come back. He wouldn’t give up, he had to get back to Y/N.
With a last push, Eddie could feel himself coming back, the weight of his body began to register, then the feeling of a foreign weight on his left, caught his attention. He willed his eyes to open, forcing the lids up, and allowing the bright light flooding the room, to invade the darkness. In a moment, he was able to discern his surroundings, he was in the trailer, the bed he was lying in felt foreign, Wayne’s he assumed. What remained a mystery, was the weight on his left hand, and arm, at least until he looked down, and was met with the prettiest face he had ever seen.
Y/N looked like an angel, she had pulled a chair to his bedside, and fallen asleep on his arm, her face turned up toward him. Eddie couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face, or the butterflies he felt in the pit of his stomach.
“Pretty girl falls asleep on me twice; I must’ve died back there. This has to be heaven.” He says softly.
Eddie’s voice breaks through Y/N’s own dreamless slumber, waking her with a start. “Eddie? Oh my god, you’re awake! Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Her questions came rapid fire.
“Did you drool?” Eddie replied with a grin, before reassuring her, “I’m okay, beautiful. How’re the others?”
“Everyone’s okay, Eddie, we were able to stop it. I need to tell Tori you’re awake.” Y/N tried to stand, but Eddie was faster, grabbing hold of her wrist to keep her in place.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Okay, but I need to get Tori, she said to call her when you-”
Eddie cut her off, “Y/N, I almost died back there, and I don’t wanna die without telling you how much I love you.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in shock, and then disbelief. “Eddie, you’re on a lot of pain medicine, you just woke up, you don’t know what you’re saying.” she said, looking away.
Eddie cupped her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his own. “Not gonna lie, Pretty Girl, I’ve got a nice body high going. But my mind?” He tapped his head with his free hand to emphasize his point, “My mind is clear, and if you don’t believe me, let me put it this way. The day we met, you walked into class in those black Converse that you sent those fucking demobats to hell with, jeans, a Queen 1982 tour tee, light colored denim jacket with a bunch of pins on it, including an enamel Elvira pin, a Joan Jett pin, Michael Myers, and a fucking adorable unicorn. You had your hair up in a blue scrunchie, you were wearing silver earrings shaped like moons and stars, black and blue jelly bracelets, and a blue splatter watch.”
Y/N’s eyes grew wide in complete shock, “You remember all that?” She squeaked out.
Eddie’s grin grew bigger, “Are you asking me if I remember what the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, was wearing when I met her? Baby, I’ve been half gone on you since the second I saw you.”
Eddie’s brain begins to short-circuit when in a flash, Y/N pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. When the feeling of her soft lips against his own finally did register, Eddie deepened the kiss, holding her face between his hands. She felt natural, like every other interaction they had had. She moved her hands to his face, cradling him, neither wanting to end the kiss.
“Oh my god, finally...” Dustin’s voice broke the moment.
Eddie and Y/N broke their first kiss, their foreheads resting together. In unison, the pair raised their middle fingers toward the younger boy.
“Goodbye, Henderson.” Came Eddie’s exasperated voice.
Dustin threw his hands up in surrender, before leaving the room.
“So, uh.” Eddie suddenly felt shy, “Can I take you on a date?”
A beautiful grin spread across Y/N’s face, “Do you really need to ask?”
--------------------
Taglist:
@bohemianrhapsody86, @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior, @a-time-for-wolvess, @ghosttownwherenoonegoes, @friendly-neighborhood-ghoul, @sweetpeapod, @emotionaldreamer, @crazyjenny8675309, @rydellakurancarson
Header credit goes to the fabulous @sweetpeapod 💙
91 notes · View notes
p1nb4ll741 · 2 months
Note
Hey love!
I wanted to ask a request of some Billy head canons maybe with Steve and Eddie, if you’re comfortable with that.
Love Lurker.
Absolutely!!!
-Fair warning, this is ooc but its FINE, everyone is nice all the time-
Random Headcanons!
—————————————————————————
>Billy Hargrove<
-Billy loves dogs. like LOVES dogs, he will stop his car to look at every puppy in Hawkins.
-He sleeps with hair rollers, nobodies curls are that perfect naturally. He stole them from Max.
-His favorite show is The Brady Bunch, he longs for a television family.
-He buys himself roses every Valentine’s Day
>Eddie Munson<
-He cuts his own hair, the only other person he would let touch it is Wayne.
-Had a pet caterpillar when he was younger and had a total meltdown when it metamorphosed, then thought it was a bitchin’ butterfly.
-His favorite snack is tortillas. Plain, with peanut butter, with cheese, doesn’t matter as long as it’s a tortilla.
-Once tried to fix his own oven but he forgot to turn it off. He still has the burn mark on his hip.
>Steve Harrington<
-Has an EXTENSIVE haircare routine, egg whites and rice water and deep conditioner, dude has an entire hair salon in his bathroom
-Loves oranges but hates orange juice, he said it was “too stringy”
-Was a hypochondriac as a child, now he always gets super sick in the winter.
-Fantastic at chemistry! But he is also horrible at math, the two don’t really add up but it’s not like he could tell you that.
—————————————————————————
Sorry if they’re short! If u like any of them lmk, if there’s anything else u want just shoot a request.
Have a fantastic day and an even better night!
12 notes · View notes
justhere4thevibez · 8 months
Note
Happy ficiversary, babe! To launch more of your gorgeous fic into the Hellcheer fandom, have a prompt:
Eddie and Chrissy's first date! Maybe even the drive there, like Eddie is super nervous and he doesn't realise Chrissy is too, so they have a quick kiss to calm themselves 😉 Or the date itself!
Aww thank you!!! This is such a cute prompt!!! Here you go:
Honestly? Eddie fucking hated first dates.
Like, intellectually, he knew they were necessary. Without a first date you couldn’t get a second date, let alone a third. But the first date was always a goddamn nightmare. You didn’t know them, and they didn’t know you, and the more you liked the other person the dumber you acted.
Or maybe that was just him.
And fuck, he really liked this girl. At least, he liked the way she texted, and that was saying something. They’d been texting for approximately four days, and for the last three days and twenty-three hours he’d been dying to meet her. And yet he was also goddamn terrified.
By the time he went to pick up his date, his hands were sweaty and he was somehow cold and hot, which should be physically impossible. Yet here he was, Eddie Munson, eighth wonder of the world about to die from both hypothermia and heatstroke. Truly, he was a marvel.
He pulled up to their designated pickup spot (a coffee shop, which was very sensible of his mystery girl) and immediately regretted not taking Steve up on his offer to borrow the car. What chick in her right mind would get in his van? None, probably. And he was over dating crazies. Mostly.
But before long, the cutest little redhead walked hesitantly over to his lurker-esque van and tapped timidly on his window.
“Eddie?” she asked, tilting her head to the side like she didn’t quite know what to make of him.
“Uh, yeah,” he said, doing his best to give her a not-creepy smile. What even made a smile creepy? Fuck if he knew. “Chrissy?”
“That’s me,” she said, gripping the strap of her purse tightly.
Goddamn, she was beautiful. He’d hoped she was—and he was already so enamored that it didn’t particularly matter to him what she looked like—but fuck. Big blue eyes, pink cheeks that he wanted to fucking bite (he wouldn’t, but oh how they tempted him), and she was wearing this cute little pink dress that tickled her thighs, showing her legs off in a goddamn delectable way.
She was so fucking far out of his league.
And yet she was already hopping into his van and buckling her seatbelt. Honestly, the fact that she hadn’t run screaming from his shitty van and weird-ass style (he liked it, but nobody else ever did) was a bit of a shock.
Think of something to say, his brain screamed at him as he drove to the restaurant he hoped to god would impress her—or at least be good enough that she’d want a second date.
“You’re pretty,” he finally blurted out.
Immediately, he wanted to slam his head into the steering wheel. Goddamn understatement of the year. Chrissy was a goddess in human form, fucking Tinúviel of the modern age, and he’d called her pretty? His head should be on a damn chopping block.
“Oh, thanks,” she said, sounding surprised. “You, too.”
She clapped her hand to her mouth as he let out a startled laugh. He’d been called many things over the years—most of them highly unflattering—but pretty? That was a new one.
“I’m sorry,” she said, covering her flaming cheeks with her hands. “I didn’t mean that, I—I’m just nervous. It’s, uh, been a while.”
“No, no, no take-backs,” he said, shaking his head firmly. “I’m officially pretty.” He pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and once he put the van in park he turned to her. “Just so you know, I’m nervous, too.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised. “But you’re so—”
She waved a hand in his general direction as though to encompass his entire aesthetic.
“Yeah, no,” he said, getting out and running around to open her door. “I’m fucking terrified of you.”
“Me?” she asked, offering him a confused smile.
“Yeah, you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she leaned into his touch. “I really like you, and I really don’t want to mess this up.”
“Oh.” She reached up to catch his hand before he could pull away. “I’m not really that scary. Is—is there anything that would help?”
“A kiss might make it all better,” he said, then slapped a hand to his forehead. Fucking idiot. “Shit, I didn’t—”
She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him more effectively than any insult ever had.
“I think I can help with that,” she whispered, biting her lip.
“You—you do?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.
“Uh huh.” She tilted his face toward her. “Want me to make it all better?”
“God, please,” he whispered.
She lifted up on her tiptoes, her dress billowing in the evening air, and pressed her soft lips to his. Their kiss was brief and chaste, and fuck he’d never loved anything more. He fucking whined when she pulled away, and she giggled, the sound as sweet as her lips had been.
“Don’t worry,” she said, interlacing her fingers in his and pulling him toward the restaurant. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
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