#honestly the thing is that it is like incredibly in character for eddie to be cruel/lash out

[eddiegettingshot]

tbf every single time this fandom has predicted a buddie divorce era 2.0 they've been wrong so 😂 let's hope that pattern continues

i’m swinging wildly between optimism and pessimism but honestly half the spec on this seems to be coming from a place where the op themself is really angry at eddie and expects buck to be too 😭

[reysdriver]

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected. 

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl. 

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking. 

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you. 

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him. 

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign. 

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke. 

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better. 

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again. 

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you. 

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made. 

“Absolutely not.” You replied. 

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip. 

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love. 

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen. 

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms. 

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky. 

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room. 

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you. 

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged. 

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed. 

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse. 

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun. 

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police. 

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively. 

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled. 

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it. 

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything. 

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father. 

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said. 

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all. 

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours. 

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

[theajaheira]

descending into deadlochposting on main i don't even care. this show is SO GOOD. i think the thing that really stuck with me throughout every episode is how committed it is to not fucking up women, and especially women of color, just to have a Plot Point + for Emotional Resonance!!! every woman on this show gets an ending that feels earned. (and yes that does include margaret carruthers.) there is just so much love woven into this narrative but they still manage to capture the grim miserable reality of patriarchy without EVER reducing a female character we care about to a Murder Victim or having her horrifically brutalized as an ending!!!! like holy shit, guys, it's actually fucking possible! you can create horror blended perfectly with humor and never actually fuck women over!!!

and yeah actually as a woc it felt really fucking good to watch a show where i got to see women of color (aleyna and tammy and sharelle and miranda and faye my beloved <333) just thrive and be silly and stupid and terrible and also lovable. and also, oh my god, revolutionary, NOT GET MURDERED, even though this is literally a fckin murder show!!! i said to my dad like midway through the series that i just got this sense the show understood how goddamn hard it is to watch television sometimes waiting for that character you love, who looks like you and has life experiences that resonate with you, to get killed, or to be treated like she's not important, and how dedicated it is to not just killing off women for shock value. every woman in this show mattered and had meaning and dimension.

because seriously, SO MANY INCREDIBLE WOMEN!!! abby with her perfect little haircut driving off into the sunset saying Of Course She Knows She's Right About Forensics. aleyna and her husband, her whole heart!!!! vanessa who in a lesser show would have been reduced to The Bad Woman, The Bigot, but we are shown how she has been abused and mistreated by men and how that's so informed her perspective + her genuine love for her son! sharelle who lays down the hard truths, who calls them out -- "all this civility but no fucking community" !!! miranda who learns that she doesn't want blood money from a woman who looks down on her cousin! tammy who is literally just all about that footy club the entire time even as men are being murdered and that's honestly so real of her. skye o'dwyer who perfectly captures that Emotionally Unavailable Dad energy except she's a lesbian and i love her. nadiyah who is Trying Her Best :) And Gritting Her Teeth About It :) faye who has no god damn patience for margaret carruthers and all kinds of blunt determined love for her niece and her daughter. vic who throws herself under the bus because she's just so determined to protect anyone she can after the women in this town protected her and kept her secret for so long!!! cath who parents her emotions and is definitely relentless in her guilting but also so relentless in her love. MARGARET CARRUTHERS WHO EXEMPLIFIES SHITTY RICH WHITE WOMAN. and of fucking course, the legends, the buddy-cop duo of all time, dulcie and eddie, who are just perpetually going around like this

except it's not even working because eddie chewed the leash off.

favorite show of the year by far. so so happy about it. rotating it joyfully in my brain for the next week, probably longer.

[nerdy-frog98]

Okay I’ve had several days to think about it, and I’m not upset about Eddie’s cheating storyline anymore.

Nobody asked, but HERE’S why.

Eddie is an incredibly traumatized character. The military experiences (+ his dead friends), losing his wife so suddenly & without closure, and a couple near death experiences will do that to you! Add that to parents trying to take his child away ON TOP OF feeling like he needs to give Christopher a mother at any and all costs…? Maybe a little bit of Catholic guilt sprinkled in there too.

Season 5 was not my favorite for a myriad of reasons, but one thing I did like about it was Eddie’s complete mental breakdown. It felt like a long time coming... BUT. His mental breakdown didn’t even really scratch the surface of his issues, and there are still a lot of things he needs to face before he can truly be at peace. One of those things is Shannon.

The effect that Shannon’s loss had on Eddie has, in my opinion, never been explored properly. We got a little of it in season 3 with the illegal fighting, and then hints of it again when he was with Ana, but it never felt like closure to me. It felt like season 6 tried to give him closure (through Marisol), but it wasn’t satisfying because it was more or less a duller version of what happened with Ana. “Moving on” for his sake, but with no real emotional repercussions. Maybe this is just a personal opinion, but his story has felt like a ticking time bomb to me since the moment he broke up with Ana. His breakdown in s5 wasn’t the real bomb though.

Now imagine being Eddie, a guy with a lot of unresolved guilt and feelings for a woman who died right in front of him. Imagine you see a woman with that dead wife’s exact face. I can honestly say I have no fucking clue what I would do in his position. What he did- erasing Marisol in his first conversation with this lookalike Kim, then later lying to Buck to meet up with Kim- is morally not okay. Sure. Would any of us act in a rational way though?

I’m not meaning to justify cheating, but I do genuinely believe this is one of the only ways that stubborn ass was going to figure out his issues in a way that might actually help him move on. He’s being delusional with Kim, and once the ball drops, I believe there’s a great big breakdown waiting for him on the other end.

People often accuse Eddie of being the most boring of the 118, and I hate that assessment so goddamn much. Eddie is probably one of theee most complex characters (besides Buck) in the entire show. He’s self-destructive, kind, loyal, patient and impatient- he’s a good father and a good friend, and he’s FLAWED. That is why I love him so much.

My initial disappointment with him partially stems from me wanting him to have a singular season of PEACE, which…I realized wasn’t possible without blowing up the bomb first (would’ve preferred to disarm the bomb but I’ll take what I can get).

[steveharringtonat3am]

Nails

wc: 883

warnings: some adorable bf eddie

“Your room is so cute.” Eddie sighs happily, cuddling into your pillows. You watch him from your seat at your desk, smiling at his antics.

“It’s pretty normal babe.” You grab your nail polish remover, beginning to take off the two week old polish from your nails. He slides off your bed and grabs his bag and starts taking out all of his things.

“What are you doing?” You ask, turning to watch him as you rub the acetone-coated cotton on your nails.

“Painting dnd miniatures.” He smiles, setting up and tying his hair back into a bun. The sight always makes your heart flutter. His bangs have been getting in his eyes recently and you make a mental note to trim them for him.

“I didn’t know you do that.” You grab your nail polish materials and sit across from him on the floor.

“I like to touch them up so they look extra nice!” They look even tinier in his hands, using a tiny paintbrush to gently paint the little statues.

“Which one are you painting now?” You can’t help but be curious. Even though dnd was a big part of Eddie’s life, you could never get into it. You knew he didn’t mind but you know he likes being able to talk about it with you.

“This is the female wizard. I actually based her character off you. She’s so beautiful that it causes the characters to get distracted during battle.” Leave it to Eddie Munson to be incredibly romantic while talking about dungeons and dragons.

“That one looks really pretty.” With the polish off your nails, you let yourself focus on Eddie’s skillful hands painting with a tiny brush.

“I’m glad you think so.” He kisses your forehead quickly before going back to painting. His tongue sticks out as he focuses. You lay on your stomach next to him, propped up on your hand.

“Do you paint all of these?” You hold up another one and he takes it, cleaning off his brush and starts to paint it.

“Pretty much yeah. It’s actually really relaxing.” It’s so precise that it almost makes you nervous, but he does seen happy.

“That makes sense!” You stay quiet for a while after that. It’s honestly nice to just sit and be with Eddie in silence. He always liked to be talking while doing something with his hands, which was always. But he was so focused that he was quiet, and it was nice to just watch and admire how pretty he is.

“There! Done!” He finally sets the last one down, jolting you awake.

“Th-that’s great babe!” You yawn, curling up in his lap. He smiles and runs a hand over your hair.

“You can’t fall asleep on the floor babe.”

“I can’t fall asleep. Have to paint my nails.” You pout, not nearly in the mood for an activity requiring that much effort.

“I could paint them for you?” He offers, ever the gentleman.

“You don’t know how to paint nails babe.” You peak an eye at him to see him look at you with a funny look on his face.

“I just painted like 20 tiny statues. I think I can handle your nails.” He grins as you sit up against the side of your bed.

“That makes sense…let me file them first yeah?” He nods, handing you the metal file and watching as you shape your nails, blowing them off when you’re done.

“Can I paint them now?” He’s very eager, already opening up your bottle of red polish.

“Sure babe just make sure not to put too much.” He wipes off some of the excess paint, taking your hand and precisely painting your nail. His first try is practically perfect, the coat of paint looking as good as they do in the salon.

“Wow baby you’re really good at this.” He only hums in response. When it came to you, Eddie never left things half-finished. Honestly, you had expected him to get bored halfway through but he painted every nail with incredible precision.

“Is that good?” He asks once the first coat is on. Sure enough, it looks better than ever.

“It’s perfect babe. Now we just let it dry!” You smile, finally able to squirm into his lap. He grins as he pulls you close.

“How long does that usually take?”

“Well it isn’t too thick so shouldn’t take longer than 20 minutes. But until then I can’t touch them, or the polish will smudge.” You keep your hands extended as you relax against his chest.

“Okay baby. Hey did I tell you about what happened today at work? This dude came in-” He launches into an animated story but the warmth of his arms has already begun to lull you to sleep.

An hour later and Eddie’s back is really starting to ache from sitting on the floor. But wow you look adorable when you sleep. He reaches out to inspect your nails, touching them gently to check if they’re dry. Sure enough they are and he smiles, kissing your forehead.

Maybe painting all those miniatures paid off.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

helloooo have a messy scribble page of oc concepts. unfortunately, im in love and will now proceed to ramble At Length

but before that! rudimentary height chart!

all i know rn is Mairy - the cow - is about the same height as Howdy/Barnaby/Poppy (around 8ft), Hettie & Daisy are in the Wally/Julie/Sally category (around 3ft), and Jesterly is more Frank/Eddie (around 4ft). Derry Drake is fuckoff huge, and Casey is... idk really. tall but not That tall

so. rambles. i... have those, yeah

Mairy Love - she/her - lesbian a gorgeous white/blue cow! originally she was gonna be pink/white, but blue/white is my favorite color combo and honestly? it's dairy colors to me. she's big! she's strong! she's very gentle and sweet but also takes shit from no one, even though she doesn't like confrontation much (unless its playful roughhousing! jokes fly completely over her head! i'm thinking she tends to a lovely orchard of various fruit trees, and probably cultivates some crops for fun as well. maybe seasonal ones? pumpkins for the spooky season, fir trees for those snowy days, etc.

Casey J. Mittens - he/him - aro this orange fella is scaredy cat central! unfortunately for him, he's also curious to a fault! curiosity killed the cat, and he fears the day that rings true for him! he'd rather curl up at home or in a cozy tree, crocheting something cute from one of his many balls of yarn than do anything else. he tries to be a voice of reason, but is too easily convinced otherwise. he's that friend who says "we shouldn't be doing this" as he wholeheartedly assists in the shenanigan in question.

Hettie (currently undecided) - she/her - bi true to her honeybee heritage, Hettie is a florist! she boasts an impressive array of flowers that she tends to like her life depends on it. she's always running around to make sure they're all getting the best care - and she's always checking in on her pals to make sure they're taken care of, too. she's a busy bee who wouldn't know a day's rest if it stung her on the ass! It takes a lot to make her mad, but everybody better watch out when her wings start buzzing

Daisy Hop - she/him - pan i actually created Daisy as a supplementary character for a certain au, but realized i could find a place for her in this little group. i'm thinking he runs a little shop - a roadside stall, more like - where she can both sell her own homemade candy & his friends' stuff! she's the only one in the group that can keep up with Hettie's energy, and even surpass it at times. though unlike Hettie, Daisy knows how to take (and appreciate) a break!

Jesterly - whatever/is/funniest - Derry a menace. they love pranks above all else, oftentimes at the expense of others. he's always up to something and is never not scheming something! there's always Someone to bother! in all honesty she's more like an annoying stray cat that no one can get rid of... and they better not try, or they'll face the wrath of this fool's Very large partner! The jester's cap never comes off, and neither does the mask!

Derry Drake - they/them - Jesterly there's no sugarcoating it - Derry is a big lazy grump! it's almost impossible to get them out of their cave, or off of any place they decide to nap. the only thing that can reliably get them moving is the promise - or prospect - of food. it's a wonder how they've accumulated such a hoard of random things in the back of their cave, seeing as they rarely get up at all. they're incredibly nearsighted and bite first, ask questions later - after all, who knows if the colorful blob in front of them is food or not! better to be safe than hungry!

currently in my mind they have their own little community deep in the woods. Daisy lives in a modified burrow, Maisy has a cute farmhouse, Casey lives in a cozy treehouse, Hettie has a small cottage, and Derry & Jesterly live in a cave. within their community, they share practically everything. want a snack? pluck something from the orchard. need a new pair of mittens? ask Casey! i suppose you could say they're communists <3 (except for Daisy. she won't charge his friends, but anyone else is free game)

Mairy and Hettie have romantic tension, Daisy and Derry are the only ones who can tolerate Jes, Mairy wants Jes dead, Casey is terrified of Derry, Daisy's rapid-fire speech confuses everyone but Hettie, etc. i should make a chart for funsies...

[mc-i-r]

Disposable Heroes

Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four AO3 link

A/N: okay this chapter took way longer than expected but it's done! It's here! The final chapter is Heroes is out! Thank you all so much for your incredible support through the months of writing this story. Although this is the last chapter, I do plan on doing two additional parts to this story that dive deeper into the characters. However, as of right now it's up in the air for when these will be out as college is getting busy with the end of the semester and holidays rapidly approaching. That being said, I do plan on doing them! In the meantime, enjoy this final chapter!

Tw: graphic descriptions of violence (canon typical), homophobic language (self-directed), dissociation

———

He’s been on the couch for an indiscriminate amount of time, staring at the pristine marble fireplace he desperately wants to take his nail bat to. He doesn’t remember much of how he got here, only that he was at work at some point and must have driven himself home without really thinking. Now that he puts it that way in his mind, it doesn’t sound all that safe, but he’s fine and alive and sitting on the couch.

Steve blinks back into full consciousness when he hears a knock on the front door. He blinks one, twice, three times to get rid of the fuzziness that’s taken residence on the outskirts of his vision before hauling himself off the leather sofa. He’s honestly surprised he managed to space out so long on such an uncomfortable piece of furniture, the cushions stiff from disuse over the years. It’s just begun to gain that looseness from all the kids lounging on it, but it’s still rather uncomfortable in his opinion.

Wrapping a thick blanket around his shoulders, he moves sloppily towards the door. Whoever is on the other side has grown to knocking continuously, so much so it’s beginning to give Steve a headache. No one he knows would be coming by today. It’s Sunday, meaning most of the kids are off doing their own thing with their parents or hanging out in the ever eloquent armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement. Whoever is on the other side isn’t someone he knows, so he begins to turn and head upstairs to sleep the rest of the fuzzy off before a voice makes him freeze in his tracks.

“Steve?” A deep, raspy voice tinged with panic filters through the mahogany doors. “Steve, I know you’re in there.”

He watches the door as he continues the path to his room, ready to avoid whatever it is Eddie wants from him.

Maybe Eddie figured out Steve’s feelings and is here to reject him. Or maybe he’ll call Steve a fag and punch him just like Steve has done to countless people back in high school. Really, he wouldn’t blame him if he did, he deserves it. Maybe Eddie’s found someone else, and is here to tell Steve it will never work out, that he’s not into guys. He thinks that one would hurt the most.

“Steve, your car is in the driveway and the lights are on,” Eddie points out, and Steve can tell he’s raising his eyebrow and giving him a look just by the tone of his voice. “We need to talk.”

Steve doesn’t want to talk. Not right now. His head is mushy and he’s not thinking straight—which he isn’t, but still—and he feels like he’s barely standing on his feet. Part of him, a bigger part than he’d like to admit, wonders if he somehow fell asleep on the couch without noticing. That’s the only way he can justify Eddie’s presence on the other side of the door and the way he was frantically knocking beforehand while worriedly yelling his name. That’s the only way any of this makes sense.

Slowly—so very slowly—he walks up to the door. He red-hued wood stares back at him mockingly, separating him from the one person he wants most. Eddie is here, just on the other side, but he can’t bring himself to reach out and turn the knob.

What if Eddie is mad at him? What if he’s here to yell and hit and hurt him beyond repair? He’s already so, so weak for him, and he knows it wouldn’t take much for him to break completely. Eddie is… he means so much more to Steve than he can properly express, and he doesn’t want to open this door and have it ripped away from him completely.

Because that’s what it boils down to, doesn’t it? If Eddie is gone, he has nothing. Sure, there’s Robin, but something about Eddie is different in a good way. A way that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside even in the dead of winter. A way that makes him blush and swoon and pine from afar because that’s all he knows how to do. A way that makes him want with his whole being. A way that he knows could tear him apart because it’s just too good to be true.

He knows he should open the door. He can reach out and grasp the knob in his hand and turn it, can swing it open and reveal the man his heart is in pieces for. He can invite him in, sit down and talk about whatever he wants to. He can have Eddie back in his life if he just. Opens. The. Door.

But Steve is a coward, and all the bravery Dustin swears he has flies right out the window as soon as no one’s life is in danger, as soon as it’s only his life in question. He takes a step back, then another, until he’s safely away from the door and next to the steps. He swallows, the sound loud in the stilted silence of his empty house, and waits.

There’s a sigh on the other side of the door before muffled shuffling and murmured curses. Steve first thinks Eddie is leaving, that he finally realized Steve wasn’t going to open the door for him and had enough, but then he hears a tiny ‘aha!’. Seconds later, the sound of a key entering the lock echo through the foyer and Steve instinctively tugs the blanket closer around him.

The door swings open to reveal Eddie in a rumpled t-shirt, sweatpants, and messy hair that looks almost as wild as his eyes. His breathing is fast and he’s disheveled to the point that Steve has the fleeting thought he just woke up and panic-ran there—which, judging by the haphazard way his van is parked in the driveway, his assumption isn’t too far of a stretch.

Even now, with his hair a wild mess and presence like a whirlwind, he's beautiful. He’s missing his signature rings, making his fingers seem longer and more delicate. The faded Black Sabbath shirt hangs from his frame, the thin fabric allowing his collarbones to show through as well as the healing scars on his chest. His hair is in a messy bun with thick strands hanging around his face he must have missed when putting it up, and Steve desperately wants to twist them around his fingers and pull.

If he lets himself think about it for too long, Steve would imagine this is what he looks like when he wakes up. Eddie would crawl out of bed no earlier than ten o’clock, drag himself to the coffee machine and sip it black and grimace—he knows he doesn’t like it black, but he still tries it every morning anyway—before adding ungodly amounts of cream and sugar before leaning against the counter as he wakes up. Steve would be making breakfast, probably something boring like eggs and bacon, and smile when Eddie wraps his arms around his waist from behind and kisses his shoulder. He’d have a low morning voice, something husky and rough from years of smoking, and Eddie would perch his head on Steve’s shoulder to watch him cook. They’d sneak kisses the whole time, and Eddie would try to steal bacon off the plate even though it’s still hot and he would burn his tongue and complain about it for the rest of the day. Steve would suggest he kiss it to make it better, and they would end up making out in the kitchen while their food grows cold.

He’s pulled out of his daydream by the sound of metal scraping against metal. Eddie is focused on getting the key back out of the lock, and Steve knows he should tell him that the spare has a habit of sticking since it’s rarely used but no words escape him. He shuffles on his feet instead, willing his heavy limbs to move forwards. The movement catches Eddie’s attention, and he immediately stops fiddling with the lock to look at him. His eyes are wide, and a little glassy, and he instantly takes his hands off the knob to drop them at his sides.

Now that those doe eyes are looking right at him, Steve finds a whole avalanche of words threatening to tumble out; ‘You’re pretty’, ‘hey, Eds', and ‘I really like you’ being the top contenders. Instead, he lets out a meek “hi”.

Eddie grins, just a little nervous thing, and Steve wonders what he was even worried about.

“Hiya, Stevie,” he greets. He looks over at the door and winces. “I used the spare key, hope you don’t mind.”

Steve shakes his head. “That’s what it’s for. Sorry I didn’t let you in.”

“Don’t worry about it, Stevie,” Eddie assures. He finally pulls the key out of the lock and shuts the door behind him, leaning against it as he looks at Steve. “As nice as it is in your fancy foyer, I think we’d both rather talk somewhere a little more comfortable, don'tcha think?”

His words kick Steve back into gear and he gestures with his head to the living room. Eddie brushes against him as he goes to sit on the couch and Steve tries desperately not to flinch at the sudden contact and rush of heat he feels at the slight touch. Eddie sits on the couch with a huff and Steve stands to the side awkwardly, looking down at his feet and the ornate carpet instead of those big doe eyes he constantly gets lost in.

“Do you want something to eat or drink?” Steve offers, still not looking up. “I made some cookies yesterday if you want some— at least, I think it was yesterday—“

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, cutting him off and sealing his lips closed. He wordlessly pats the empty seat beside him on the sofa, raising an eyebrow in silent command. Steve looks at Eddie, then at the seat, and back again. It’s hard to tell the expression on his face and what exactly the other man is feeling, caught somewhere between concern and this gentleness he’s rarely seen.

Steve sits next to him with a quiet huff, subconsciously tugging the blanket around his shoulders until it’s just under his chin. He stares at the pristine brick underneath the fireplace, eggshell white and void of ash smudges or scratches. Steve has never seen an actual fire in that fireplace, only the styrofoam logs his mother had shipped to the house to look realistic without making a mess. He counts the rows, then each brick within the rows and the frame around them until he concludes that there's fifty-six bricks in the fireplace. It’s an odd number to end on but surprisingly even. He briefly wonders if his parents intentionally ended the brick count on an even number or if it just happened that way.

Eddie clears his throat next to him and Steve startles a little, breaking out of his brick-focused revere to glance at the man beside him. He looks nervous, hands twisting together and fingers tracing the empty space where his rings usually sit. Steve thinks that if Eddie had remembered them, he’d be twisting the heavy rings in their silence.

“We need to talk, Steve,” Eddie repeats. “This… this thing has gone on for way too long and we need to set the record straight.”

Steve holds back a snort at the word ‘straight’, feeling at this moment anything but. He can feel Eddie’s body heat even from the other side of the couch and part of him is screaming at his hands to reach out and touch. But, Eddie is here to talk, not touch, so he keeps his hands to himself and stiffly nods.

At least he has the decency not to say what Steve did wrong to his face. That small bit of mercy warms something within him even though he knows the following conversation will rip it apart. Eddie is going to tell him that it’s not worth it, that Steve isn’t worth it, and that he should stop trying to make amends because it’s never going to work. Eddie will never like him, that's a given fact proven time and time again by the cut-off comments and sideways glances and aborted touches.

He tears his eyes away from where they’ve focused back on the fireplace, choosing instead to look down at his lap. It’s better to rip the band-aid off early, just get straight to the point instead of beating around the proverbial bush. Steve takes a breath then releases it slowly, closing his eyes for a brief moment while gathering his words.

“You don’t have to say it, Eds,” he murmurs and fuck, he didn’t mean for ‘Eds’ to sound so soft. He can’t help it though, not when the boy he wants is leaving him before they’ve even had a chance to be together. “I already know.”

He feels more than sees Eddie freeze beside him, stiffening up as if he was suddenly turned to stone. Wide brown eyes are turned his way and Steve can’t help but glance at them once more while he’s still allowed. They’re more shiny than usual, bouncing over Steve’s face like two rocket-powered pinballs.

As the silence stretches on, he can tell Eddie won’t be the one to fill it. That’s okay, really, because he needs to explain himself. Might as well get it out in the open before all the yelling starts and he shuts down completely.

“I know you don’t like me,” Steve starts and Eddie immediately makes a noise of protest. He glances at the other with pleading eyes and a small, sad smile. “Can I get it all out before you say anything? I just… I need to say this without any interruptions.”

Eddie immediately nods, miming zipping his lips closed, locking them, and throwing away the key. Steve can’t fight the smile that forms on his face at the action, finding the little show of childishness endearing. It’s nice to see Eddie act more like himself after everything, even though the circumstances are less than ideal.

“Thanks,” he says. Steve takes a breath, closing to look down at his hands rather than at Eddie. He squeezes them together, watching as his knuckles and the tips of his fingers turn white with pressure.

“I know I’ve been too clingy with the group lately and was pushing people to hang out with me. I…” he trails off, huffs. “It sounds bad but I usually don’t notice how I’m acting until someone points it out, and… and I realize now how I’ve been and I promise to leave them alone.”

Eddie shifts beside him, scooting closer to his hunched form on the couch. A hand enters his periphery, but Steve keeps his own firmly planted in his lap. He begins picking at the skin beside his nails, a nervous habit he can’t quite get rid of, to take his mind off the man next to him.

“I have one condition though,” Steve requests. He starts, pauses, and when the words get caught in the back of his throat he resorts to nervously rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. He needs to say them, needs Eddie to know, but the words just… won’t come out.

A slender hand moves over his and settles softly over his twitching fingers. Steve stops picking at the contact, the touch freezing him and filling him with unbearable warmth at the same time. He doesn’t look up, afraid to find the annoyance that’s most likely there at his repetitive movements, and instead lets the touch wash over him. It travels up his hands, through his arms, and bee-lines for his fragile heart. It travels up his neck, unsticking the words there and giving them new life.

“Promise me you’ll take care of the kids, Eds,” he croaks out, voice suddenly raw and fragile. “Take care of them and of yourself too, okay?”

There’s silence after his request but Steve doesn’t dare move. His eyes never travel up to look at Eddie, and he doesn’t think he has the right to. He doesn’t want to see the discontent on his face, or the satisfaction or acceptance or happiness or whatever it is at the thought of never having to see Steve and all of his bullshit anymore.

Instead, he focuses on the hand over his, his eyes tracing the divots of the knuckles and the faint freckles found there. He counts the visible veins and follows their path upwards. He watches the tendons flex as Eddie taps his hand twice, the motion so deliberate it causes Steve to look up at him on instinct.

The expression he finds there is not what he was expecting. His eyes are wide and glossy, the deep brown shining a little in the midday sunlight. His eyebrows are furrowed and his lips are a thin line. It’s an expression Steve’s never seen before, one that doesn’t feel right on Eddie’s face. He looks… in a word, Eddie looks scared.

That quickly changes, however, when Eddie roughly shakes his head from side to side—fluffing up his hair in the process—and looks at Steve with concern. He points at his mouth and Steve only quirks an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what that means—“

He’s cut off by Eddie shooting off the couch, looking left and right before falling to the ground on his knees with his back to Steve.

“… Eddie?”

Steve is ignored as Eddie stretches his arms out and pats the rug as if looking for something. Steve’s two seconds away from joining him on the floor when Eddie makes a triumphant noise and stands up, turning back to Steve and holding up his hand with his fingers clenched around… nothing.

There’s nothing in his hand but Eddie still brings it up to his face and just then, Steve realizes he was looking for the invisible key he threw away earlier. Eddie mimes unlocking and unzipping his lips, and Steve finds the whole action so ridiculously Eddie that he can’t help but shed a ghost of a smile.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmurs, a hand coming up to rest on Steve’s cheek so gently it makes his chest hurt. Eddie flicks his eyes between Steve’s, the deep brown reflecting some of the light from the open window. This close, Steve can see small swirls of yellow within the brown, like golden leaves passing by warm bark as they fall in autumn.

Eddie wipes under his eyes with his free hand, and Steve can feel wetness drying on his cheeks. He didn’t realize he was crying, but Eddie’s gentleness makes more sense now. He smiles at him, a sad little thing that has no right being this beautiful on his face, as he pushes some of Steve’s admittedly flat and greasy hair out of his eyes.

His hair is getting long now, falling just at his shoulders, but he has no desire to cut it. Sure, it gets in his face all the time and he has to use the little claw clips he stole from Robin to keep the shorter pieces back when he gets hot but cutting it… it just doesn’t feel right anymore.

Maybe it’s because his parents aren’t here to tell him he looks bad with long hair, and that he should cut it before people start “talking”. Maybe it’s because it’s new and Steve liked how long his hair had gotten when he worked at Scoops but had cut it when Robin did so they would match. Maybe it’s because he feels more himself when it’s long, like he’s letting go of the pretty boy jock of the past and finally being himself. Or maybe—and more likely—it’s because he stopped caring about what he looked like since no one was around to see him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve freezes. Blinks. Opens his mouth once, closes it, repeats the process.

Because in what world would Eddie Munson need to apologize to him?

Steve is the one who fucked up. Steve is the one who pushed everyone away, who was too much. Steve was the harbinger of his own self-destruction. It was always Steve, Steve, Steve—

“No, Stevie—“ Eddie begins, then cuts himself off. His hands grip Steve’s face tighter, small in pressure and forcing him to look into his eyes. “Don’t do that. I know what your head is telling you, sweetheart, but let me explain before you come to any conclusions, yeah?”

And Steve… he doesn’t know what to say. No one has ever noticed him like this before. Has never shown it even if they had.

“It’s—It’s okay, Eds, you don’t—“

“No, I do, Steve. I need to explain, okay? Will you let me?”

Eddie is asking Steve for permission. Is asking for time, for a chance, and Steve has no other choice but to grant him his wish. He nods in Eddie’s hold, shallow but meaningful all the same. Eddie smiles that sad smile, the one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and shifts so his whole body is facing Steve. Full attention is drawn to him, consuming him, and Steve only sits. Watches. Waits.

“Just… When I tell you, will you promise not to be mad?” Eddie scrunches his face like he’s waiting for a verbal assault, like he’s waiting for Steve to say ‘no’. He doesn’t know if he could ever be truly mad at Eddie, doesn’t think a bone in his body could hate the man before him.

“Eds, I could never hate you,” he murmurs. “I promise, I won’t be mad.”

Eddie huffs, something akin to a laugh and a sigh, and looks down at his lap. His face is colored with sour sadness, something that has died long ago and turned rotten.

“I don’t know if you can keep that promise, Steve. Not for this.”

“Eddie, look at me,” Steve asks, and Eddie does as he’s told. He looks right in his eyes, holding eye contact, and says, “I promise I will never, ever hate you.”

Eddie nods, takes a breath and Steve can feel the slight tremble of his hands.

“As much as I regret the truth, your soulmate is the main reason I’m here right now,” he begins, smiles to deflect and rolls his eyes. “Robin practically burst into my trailer to tell me to get my shit together and she was right because Steve… Steve, I was a mess.

“I could barely function. I’d spend all day in my room, playing songs over and over and over again until I heard them in my sleep because I couldn’t let myself give in to what I wanted most.”

He doesn’t say it, not explicitly, but Steve knows. He knows, because he feels the same thing. That unbearable need to be with someone, the near possession that sinks down to his core and forges iron bars in his bones. The weight that settles in his stomach when he’s without, when he’s alone. He knows, because he’s felt that way about the man in front of him everyday since March. Since senior year. Since goddamn high school—

“There’s this person,” Eddie confesses. “I’ve found someone that makes me really happy.”

The world stops. Time slows. Steve feels his heart pause in his chest, feels it skip a beat. His body grows cold and washes from head to toe, the iciness reverberating in his bones. Eddie’s found someone. He’s found someone that isn’t Steve.

It’s the worst case scenario. Eddie has found someone and is here to let him down easy. His visit makes more sense now. Eddie has figured out his feelings and is here to reject him. Reject him because Eddie’s with someone else—

“Oh,” he breathes out. He can feel his head start to float, can feel his mind slipping away because it doesn’t want to think anymore, doesn’t want to accept that Eddie doesn’t want him. The fuzziness returns, clouding the edges of his vision.

“Can I tell you about them?” Eddie asks, like they’re friends. Like they regularly tell each other about their crushes. Like this is just.. like it’s fun. Steve only has the strength to nod.

“They’re beautiful,” Eddie starts. “They have silky brown hair and tan skin, marked with cute little moles and an array of scars. They wear these tight little Levi’s that drive me crazy, I mean it’s downright sinful.

“More importantly, they’re sweet. They always put others before themself, always asking how everyone else is despite no one ever asking how they are. They give out rides and take people wherever they want, no matter what. They’re a little bit of a pushover, but it’s only because they love people so fully and wholly that they can’t help it.

“This person… I think they’re it for me, Stevie,” Eddie finishes. “I think I’ve found the one.”

The words hit him like an out of body experience, like he’s watching himself have this conversation without having any conscious input. It doesn’t feel real. Steve can’t feel the couch underneath him or the blanket around his shoulders, just as he can’t hear the words from Eddie’s mouth or the meaning behind them. His brain stopped working when Eddie confessed and now he’s running on autopilot alone.

“I’m happy for you, Eddie,” he pushes out with a smile, a fake plastic-like thing that feels heavy on his face. “I hope it works out for you two.”

“Me too. This person means a lot to me, you know.”

He doesn’t, and he really doesn’t want to. Honestly, Steve just wants this conversation to be over so he can crawl in his bed and decompose for the next month.

“I’m glad.” He’s not.

“The kids love them and so does Robin. They make us feel complete, and without them we’re a mess.”

Those words wake him up a little. They’ve already met the kids and Robin. They fit just as Steve didn’t. They complete the puzzle of the full family picture, one without Steve in it. They’ve replaced him. They don’t need him. They’ll never need him, he’s just—

“It’s good that they’ve found someone. They need someone like that.”

“Yeah, Stevie, they do,” Eddie says quietly. “But I did something that made them go away, and I’m trying to get them back.

“See, I thought that if I kept myself away, that my feelings would go away too. But uh…” Eddie looks down at his lap and huffs. “My feelings are still here and all I did was push away the person I wanted most.”

“I’m sure they’ll forgive you,” he assures, even though the words feel like ash on his tongue. “If they’re any good, they’ll understand.”

Eddie looks at him then, his dark brown eyes boring into his. Steve looks back, flicking his eyes across his face as if it holds the secrets to the universe. As if Eddie’s face will tell him what he’s supposed to do next.

“Well, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Understand,” Eddie supplies. There’s a small, sad smile on his face as he tilts his head. Steve furrows his brows.

“Why would I need to—“

He pauses. Rethinks Eddie’s words.

“…Brown hair and tan skin… moles… scars… rides… pushover”

No. It can’t be him, it can’t. Steve can’t listen to Eddie’s loud music for more than a few minutes before getting a migraine. He’s got no experience being with a guy and has only just recently accepted that he’d like to be with one. There’s no way Eddie could be talking about him because he isn’t special, isn’t someone Eddie would like. At least, not like that. Steve is just Steve, and Eddie is so… so Eddie.

But Eddie’s looking at him with that look, the one he gives when he’s trying to tell him something without actually saying it. His doe eyes are staring at him full force, working overtime to tell Steve something he can’t quite understand.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow and something clicks. Puzzle pieces start to fall into place.

But… It can’t be—

“Me,” Steve whispers. It’s a small, broken thing, like a butterfly with a busted wing. Beautiful but tarnished, alive but not whole. Eddie only smiles, this one less sad and more soft.

“Yeah, Stevie, you,” he whispers back, just as quiet. “Staying away from you was the hardest thing I ever did, and I will spend the rest of my goddamn life regretting it.”

It doesn’t make any sense why Eddie would stay away when they’ve both been pulled together like two dying stars in a collapsing universe. Steve thought he was alone in his wanting, in his pining, but Eddie had been right there with him and that… that is terrifying.

He wants to scream at him, to yell and ask him a million times ‘why?’. He wants to punch a fucking wall. He wants to beg and plead for an explanation. He wants to cry, and maybe throw up a little. He wants to collapse in Eddie’s arms and be held, be kept safe, and he doesn’t ever, ever, want to leave.

Pressure on his face makes his eyes drift back up, unaware they had wandered elsewhere until Eddie coaxed them back to him. He thinks that every part of him will always drift back to Eddie somehow, like he’s the beacon Steve will forever be drawn to. A hand slips off his cheek, fits right over one of Steve’s like a missing puzzle piece. Steve turns his hand and slots his fingers between Eddie’s.

“I never hated you, Steve. Never,” Eddie confesses, cheeks catching a rosy glow as he looks down at their hands, fingers entwined. “It was uh… the opposite, actually.”

There’s an implication there, a little snippet of what Eddie’s really saying. ‘I like you, Steve, I’ve always liked you. I lo—‘

Steve squeezes his hand, rubbing his thumb along his knuckles and causing a smile to form on the others’ face. It’s small, shy like Eddie doesn’t know it’s there. He looks up then, eyes deep brown and yellow, and he’s beautiful but Steve feels like he’s dying all the same. Like Eddie has the power to keep him alive or kill him in one breath. The truth is, he does.

“I’m a coward, Stevie. Always have been,” Eddie huff a humorless laugh, more of a rush of air through his nose than anything. “I did what I always do. I ran. I ran from you.

“Not because of anything you did, mind you, but because I didn’t want to admit to whatever was—is—all up in my head. I didn’t wanna show too much and make you uncomfortable because I know how you are with touch sometimes and I didn’t trust myself to keep my hands to myself.

“I mean, god, do you know how many times I had to literally sit on my hands to keep from running them through your hair or holding your hand or doing the cheesy fucking yawn-and-stretch move?” He confesses, and the absurdity of it makes a loud laugh burst out of Steve’s throat. Eddie’s got a real smile on his face this time, one that’s happy, and maybe a little teasing. “I’m serious! I’m surprised no one caught me looking at you. I mean, I was always looking, Stevie, but I knew I could never touch—“

“You could’ve,” Steve interrupts, feels it’s important. He needs Eddie to know. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“You would have minded, Steve,” he insists. “I didn’t want to give you a friendly pat on the back or clap your shoulder. I wanted—I still want—something you don’t want to give me.”

“How do you know? How do you know I don’t want you to give it, Eddie?”

“‘Cause you don’t like me like that, Steve,” he says with a sad sort of confidence, like he knows it for a fact. Like Steve doesn’t feel the same and he—

Oh.

Eddie doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know what Steve’s feeling or what he’s been going through because he doesn’t believe Steve could ever want him back. This isn’t a mutual confession, this is Eddie bearing his throat at Steve in an attempt to bring him back. This is self-sacrifice, martyrdom at its finest.

This is Eddie planning a second suicide.

“By ‘that’ I mean gay, Steve. I’m… I’m gay,” Eddie confesses, but Steve is so wrapped up in his own mind that he can’t say what he wants to. He wants to smile, thank him for sharing, assure him that nothing will change between them—unless they want it to—and hug him because telling people is hard.

But no words come out, and he’s stuck in Eddie’s gentle hand on his face and big brown eyes locked onto his.

“And I really hope you’re okay with it because I can live with not having you like that, I have before and I can do it again, but not having you at all is something I can’t survive. Something I won’t survive. Hell—I barely made it through staying away for as long as I did.

“Steve, I sat in my van multiple times over the past few weeks contemplating if I should come over to your house or not just because I missed you,” he exposes, mouth forming that beautifully sad smile. “But I went back inside every time because it was pathetic, I was pathetic.”

Eddie looks down, then immediately shoots his head up with wide eyes bouncing between Steve’s.

“Shit, now that I say that out loud it sounds incredibly creepy. Fuck… I didn’t mean it like that, I swear, I mean it wasn’t that often anyway and I never—“

“Eddie.”

His mouth shuts with an audible ‘click’, and Steve winces in sympathy. His wince turns into a hesitant smile, however, as he raises a shaky hand to cover Eddie’s on his cheek. He leans into the touch—probably more than he should—and watches the way Eddie’s eyes widen a little.

“You don’t hate me?” Steve mutters, those four words loud in the silence of his empty house.

Eddie shakes his head rapidly, reminding Steve a little bit of a puppy. “Like I said, Stevie, I could never hate you.”

He can’t help but scoff and roll his eyes, remembering the various lunchtime speeches the other announced to the cafeteria in high school about social hierarchies and sticking it to The Man.

“I’m sure you hated me in high school, Eds,” he counters.

Instead of agreement, Steve is—to his surprise—met with a very flustered and red Eddie. He’s ducked his face so it’s partially hidden behind loose ringlets of hair but Steve can still see the redness high on his cheeks. He won’t look at him, won’t lift his head, but something tells him it’s not because he doesn’t want to.

“Holy—“ Steve huffs a shocked laugh. “Edward Munson, did you have a crush on me?”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans, covering his face with both hands and shaking his head. “You’re going to be so annoying about this, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies innocently, a smirk firmly lodged on his face.

“Is it really that surprising?” Eddie asks rhetorically. “I mean, how’s a queer kid in small town America not gonna have a crush on the incredibly hot co-captain of the swim team with his tight little speedos and smarmy wink that makes everyone wanna drop their panties for him?”

Steve rolls his eyes but leans in a little and drops his voice just to tease him. “Did you want to drop your panties too, Eds?”

Eddie goes scarlet as he shoves Steve’s face away half heartedly. Steve cackles, unable to help it when Eddie flops back dramatically with an arm thrown over his face like a distressed damsel.

“But seriously,” Steve asks when his laughter has died down. “Why did you have a crush on me? I was a total douchebag.”

Eddie looks up at him from his slumped position on the couch and shakes his head as he sits up. “You were different.

“I could tell you didn’t enjoy what you did in school. You didn’t like being mean to people, didn’t like being cruel, and you always had this… this sympathy for people. People like Tommy and Carol and fucking Billy Hargrove had this hunger in their eyes but you… you never did.

“You were different from them. You were better, good. Even back then,” he insists. Eddie scoots closer and rests his hands on either side of Steve’s face, cupping it gently like he did earlier. He locks their eyes.

“You’re still good, Stevie,” he whispers and tilts his head with a smile. “Think you’ll always be good.”

There’s that word again. ‘Good’. Something he strives to be but can never quite reach. It’s like waking up from a dream and forgetting the details. They’re right there, just out of reach, but no matter how hard you try they always slip away.

His eyes begin to sting and water, salty droplets resting on his lower lashes and falling down his face as he blinks. His chest feels tight, like all the air was pushed out of his lungs and he can’t quite fill them up again. No one has ever told him that before. No one has ever looked past the shell forged of bitchy attitude and sarcastic comments to see what’s underneath and liked what they’d seen.

Eddie has looked now. He’d taken a chisel and hammer and patiently chipped away until Steve cracked, until his shell opened up and Eddie was allowed to look inside.

He can feel the way his mind floats away, how he recesses back into his head but not because he wants to. His emotions are a lot on their own, but coming out all at once like this is too much for him to handle.

He vaguely registers the way Eddie’s eyes blow wide and how carefully he wipes away his fresh tears. His mouth is moving, saying words Steve can’t hear as he falls apart. He can’t help the broken sob that climbs its way out his throat, nor the way he tries to duck his head to hide his face. Eddie won’t let him, however, and instead tugs him closer. An arm drops down around his waist and pulls, moving Steve in Eddie’s lap in one fluid motion. Eddie’s other hand gently coaxes his head to land in the crook of his neck, leaving Steve feeling safe and held in a way he’s never experienced before.

Heaving sobs wrack his body, forcing shudders that go down to his bones to ripple across his skin. Weeks, months—hell, years—of pent up emotions are flooding out now, soaking Eddie’s shirt and skin. He’s being loud, hiccuping and sniffling right next to Eddie’s ear but the other just holds him. He holds him in a way that’s protective, like Eddie’s trying to shield him from all the pain and hurt in his past. Like holding him could make it all go away. Steve desperately wishes that were the case, that he could leave all of it behind like he wants to. But he also knows it’s not that simple, that his pain won’t go away with one hug or a single kiss no matter how much he hopes.

He can feel the vibration of words underneath him but his brain can’t quite comprehend them. A hand is carding through his hair, gingerly detangling it and pulling ever so slightly. The pressure on his scalp helps him focus a little, brings him back into his body where crying had taken him out. Eddie is rocking back and forth and doesn’t stop when Steve calms down.

Steve goes to pull away, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. “Sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what that was—“

“Shhh,” Eddie cuts him off, both arms around his waist now and holding him in place. “It’s okay, Stevie, you clearly needed a good cry. Just didn’t know I’d be the one to instigate it.”

A laugh escapes him, Steve rolling his eyes as he shoves at the man beneath him playfully. He doesn’t get up, however, feeling safe in the arms that hold him in place. Eddie wipes away the rest of the tears drying on his face, giving Steve that small, private smile he’s only seen a handful of times. One he knows is just for him.

Eddie’s hand doesn’t leave his face and instead settles for brushing oily strands of hair back in place. Fingers linger on his cheekbones, tracing under his eyes and across the bridge of his nose. There’s a scar there on the bridge from where Jonathan had busted it, and later Billy added on by breaking it. His nose sits a little crooked now from not being properly healed, but Steve really couldn’t care less. Doesn’t think it matters much anymore, as it doesn’t seem to matter to Eddie either. Eddie’s eyes are soft, the corners of his mouth turned up just a little.

“What’s on your mind, Eds?” He whispers, voice strained from crying. The hand tracing his face pauses.

“Just thinking about you…” Eddie confesses, smile widening. “Even with your face blotchy red and puffy from crying, you’re still beautiful.”

It’s Steve’s turn to blush, face turning red as Eddie laughs.

“It’s true!”

“Is not—“

“No, I’m totally right.”

“Uh-huh.” Steve rolls his eyes before closing them for a moment, letting himself smile. The tightness in his chest has dissipated now, his lungs free to breathe. He leans back slightly, just enough to find and play with the hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie’s hands squeeze his waist, making him look up. “What’s on your mind, Stevie?”

Steve huffs a laugh at the repeated phrase. “Where to start…”

“We’ve got all the time in the world,” Eddie assures. Steve takes a breath.

“I can’t believe this is real, Eds. That you’re… you’re here and holding me like I’m special,” he begins, focusing on his hands playing with Eddie’s shirt hem instead of the man himself. “I didn’t think anyone would hold me like this—would even want to—much less you.”

“Why not, Steve?” His voice is gentle, coaxing. Steve hesitates to tell him, to give him the truth of what he’s been feeling the whole time. But Eddie was brave, he told Steve and now it’s time to return the favor.

“‘Cause I’ve had a crush on you for months, Eds, ever since that stupid fucking boathouse. I should’ve said something but I… I was too scared to say anything. Didn’t want to get my heart broken again.

“Then you stopped coming around and hanging out and wouldn’t talk to me or tell me what I did wrong and it… it fucking hurt, Eddie,” he confesses. He sniffles, trying to calm down before he starts crying again. He’s had enough humiliation for the day, thank you.

“It hurt because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, not even Nancy. Hell, she’s practically no one compared to what I feel about you. There’s this… this feeling of wholeness when I’m with you, like I finally feel complete somehow despite not even knowing part of me was missing. Having a taste of that and then losing it, losing you, made me break.

“I didn’t know if you felt the same, and I still can’t really believe that you do,” Steve admits. He clenches his eyes closed, begging the tears pricking his eyes to go away. “I’ve accepted that I’m not cut out for love. Everyone I try to get close to never seems to stick around long afterwards, so I’ve just… stopped trying.

“I told myself I’d keep my distance. I mean… I know I’m too much for people sometimes, got too much going on up in my head, and I thought that was why you pulled away,” he finishes. Eddie squeezes his waist again, causing Steve to look up and find a pained expression on his face he’s sure he’s not supposed to see.

“How… how could you think that?” Eddie questions, voice quiet like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s saying. Eddie cups his cheek with a soft hand, brushing his thumb across his cheekbone as he looks in his eyes. “How could you think that no one could love Steve Harrington?”

It’s a question he has a million answers to, a million different reasons for why. They replay in his head constantly, ever present and never fading. Letting it all out and telling Eddie what he can barely admit to himself isn’t something he thinks he can do.

But Eddie’s looking at him now with those big brown eyes and soft lips curved slightly downwards into a subtle frown, eyebrows scrunched earnestly. It makes all of his inhibitions melt away, makes his tongue unfreeze and words bubble up his throat.

“People have always loved the idea of me, Eds,” he begins. He smiles a bitter smile that feels like acid on his lips. “King Steve with daddy’s money to keep the liquor cabinet well-stocked and absent parents gone for weeks at a time meant an empty mansion perfect for parties. People would show up before I even knew what was going on, but I learned to go with it because saying no didn’t seem like an option. I’d just grab a bottle and hope for the best, figuring I might as well have a good time–or at least pretend like it.

“A few people looked under that facade and saw who I really was beyond all that. Tommy knew I hated parties and loud noises but nine times out of ten he was the one to invite everyone over. Nancy… I don’t think she ever really understood. Nance always had this preconceived notion about how people were and how they’re supposed to be and she couldn’t accept that I was different than that, that I diverged from her point of view.

“Looking back at it now, I think that’s a major reason why we didn’t work out. When people look at me, the real me, they never tend to stick around long afterwards. Hagan quit talking to me when I admitted I didn’t want to harass people anymore and Nancy—well, you pretty much know what happened but she didn’t stay long after I changed either,” Steve admits. He closes his eyes and leans into Eddie’s hand. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

Movement makes his eyes open to see Eddie shaking his head. “That’s not who I’m talking about,” Eddie corrects as he cups Steve’s face with both hands, the empty space on his waist feeling cold in the absence of warm arms.

“The Steve I’m talking about makes soup for sick Party members and parents. He gives out little gifts he picks up just ‘cause for the kids, Robin, or me. He hates who he was in the past, and has done more than enough to make up for it—not that he needed to in the first place. The Steve I’m talking about cares so much for other people that it consumes him to the point where he forgets about himself sometimes,” Eddie pauses, and Steve takes it as an opportunity to interrupt.

“But I haven’t done any of that in weeks, Eds,” he protests. “Besides, I’ve got tons of free time to look after myself now that the kids aren’t talking to me and—“

He cuts himself off at Eddie’s wince, a harsh thing that scrunches up his eyes and makes him flinch back like he was hit. It’s enough to make him wonder if he said something wrong, something that upset Eddie that he didn’t know about. God, can he do anything right? Jesus fucking Christ he’s hopeless.

“That’s uh…” Eddie trails off, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “That’s my fault too.”

What?

“What?” Steve asks. “Wait, how?”

“The kids,” Eddie pauses to shake his head and mumble. “Stupid ones at that, came to the very misguided conclusion that I didn’t like you and started avoiding you on my behalf. Which I know is very unfair since you’ve known them way longer than I have and have literally saved their lives countless times. Like I said, stupid kids.”

Steve blinks. Thinks, blinks again. This wasn’t his fault. He did nothing to warrant being ignored for weeks, for being talked down to or excluded from conversations or gatherings. He did nothing to the kids, to Joyce or Hop or Robin or Eddie or anyone. He. Did. Nothing.

All of his paranoia, all the sleepless nights he spent roaming the streets with a bat covered in nails and dried blood was for nothing. All the worry, all the nightmares and panic attacks over the Party dying was for nothing. All the fear that turned his veins to ice and caused his words to stop was for nothing.

“Oh.”

It was all a misunderstanding. A silly little misunderstanding that made him lose his goddamn mind for weeks and obsess over every little interaction he’d had with the Party to try and parse out what went wrong. It was all because of some stupid crush and some stupid kids who like to stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the long ends before meeting Eddie’s gaze. He looks apologetic, like he knows what Steve went through and is feeling it all second hand. There’s anguish in his eyes, like Steve’s pain is now his. In a way, it is.

“Steve, I’m sorry I caused all of this,” Eddie apologizes. “I’ve already talked to the kids and told them the truth—well, some of the truth, anyways—and they know what they did was wrong. I told them to give you some space though, so you’ve got a day or two before a bunch of teens bombard your house and start throwing apologies at you. Also, Robin was totally mean to me today but she knows—wait, why are you laughing?”

Steve can’t help the laugh that escapes his throat, or the way his eyes water as his eyes scrunch. This is all so ridiculously funny, like a sitcom episode in real life. The pining idiots have a misunderstanding and there’s despair on both sides until the truth is revealed and they confess. The ‘what if’s play through his head, but instead of worst-case scenarios it’s what he and Eddie could have been this whole time if they had gotten their heads out of their asses sooner.

“Sorry, sorry, I just—“ he cuts himself off to wipe his eyes. “I was just thinking that I should’ve kissed you when I had the chance. It would’ve prevented all of this from happening.”

It’s a delight to watch Eddie’s eyes widen and face grow red at his explanation, and Steve feels like he discovered the eighth wonder of the world when the other man lets out an honest to god squeak that has no right being as cute as it is.

“What—“ Eddie begins with a strained voice before clearing it and starting over. “What do you mean by that?”

His laughing dislodged Eddie’s hands from his face, so Steve takes the opportunity to mirror the gesture on the metalhead before him. His hands cup squishy and faintly freckled cheeks, thumbs framing his cheekbones and fingers cradling the back of his head. Warmth radiates throughout his palms and up his arms, forming a gooey smile he’s sure looks as lovesick as he feels.

Huh. Lovesick. That’s new. Wait—

Holy shit he’s in love with Eddie Munson.

The realization is not as profound as he’d thought it would be. It’s a gentle understanding, one that washes over him like warm bath water. He knew deep down that he was in love, but the label was never placed upon his feelings. But they were there, and had been for far longer than he realized.

They were there when he stumbled down the steps of the Creel house in the Upside Down, world tilting on its axis as the ground shook. There was screeching all around him, sounds of otherworldly monsters calling out in anger or fear, he didn’t know. Didn’t really care. All he cared about was getting out of that hell, getting topside with everyone still intact.

Then he heard the screaming. The crying. The call for help.

He didn’t wait for Robin or Nancy to follow him, taking off as fast as he could to where Eddie and Dustin were. He didn’t know what to expect, didn’t want to think about the endless things he could find once he entered the trailer park. Didn’t want to think about Dustin or Eddie hurt, about them bleeding out or dy—

No. No, they were fine. They were fine. They had to be.

…Right?

He stumbled up to Eddie’s trailer but there was no sign of them. He looked around, confused and panicked, to find two bodies amongst a mass of withering wings. Time felt like it slowed, like the world had been put on pause. He doesn’t remember the walk over to them, only that he was repeating the mantra of ‘don’t let it be Dustin’ over and over again. But it wasn’t Dustin. It was Eddie.

It was Eddie with the same bites he himself had, except deeper and torn. It was Eddie covered in blood and the ripped remnants of his shirt with tears rolling down his cheeks. It was Eddie lying there motionless, entirely still save for the faint jostling as Dustin sobbed over him. It was Eddie dead. It was—

Eddie’s dead. He’s dead. He—

No. No, no, no, he can’t be dead. He can’t.

There’s too many things he wants—no, needs—to say. He needs to tell him that his crooked smile makes his knees weak. He needs to tell him that he wants to run his fingers through his wild, unruly hair. He needs to tell him that he wants to kiss those soft lips. He needs to tell him he’s felt this way for far too long already. He needs, he needs, he needs.

Afterwards was a blur of desperation, like his body knew it had to do anything it could to save the man before him. He remembers doing CPR, remembers the sickening crunch of bone as ribs snapped that made him want to puke. He remembers leaning over Eddie, watching as his figure distorted with unshed tears, and praying to a god he doesn’t believe in. He remembers watching his tears fall on Eddie’s face and roll down his cheek, leaving clean streaks through the blood splattered there. He remembers leaning down and pressing an ear to his chest.

He remembers the overwhelming amount of pure relief he felt when Eddie started breathing again. He remembers the pained groan Eddie let out as Steve picked him up and carried him out. He remembers that Eddie’s alive.

His feelings were there as he sat in the hospital waiting room bouncing his knee and staring at the doors Eddie disappeared behind. Dustin had been taken back a few minutes earlier to get his leg looked at but all Steve could think about was Eddie.

Was he still alive? Had they managed to stop the bleeding? Were his wounds infected? Did they have to intubate or was he strong enough to breath on his own? Was he awake? Was he in pain? Will he—

“Mr. Harrington, will you come with me please?” A short nurse called from the double doors that led into the hallway. His head snapped up to her, eyes wide like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He looked over at Robin, taking in the way she was chewing on her fingernails and nervously glancing around. He patted her knee before he stood up, wincing when the movement pulled at his wounds. He hadn’t had them looked at yet, deciding to let everyone else go first. His wounds weren’t that bad anyway, he got lucky.

He doesn’t feel like he did, really.

As he walked up to her, he could feel her eyes on him. Could feel her scanning him. Assessing him. It made him nervous. But then she smiled that polite nurse smile and it eased just a little bit.

“Mr. Harrington, are you here for Mr. Munson?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” he answered, even though he’s sure she knew who he was here for. When he busted through the emergency room doors with Eddie’s body in his arms, they refused to see him. Said they didn’t want to treat a murderer. Admittedly, what Steve did wasn’t inherently right but having the Harrington name pays off sometimes. Especially when your family is one of the main funders for the hospital.

“I can’t tell you much since you’re not legally related, but I will say that he is currently stable. Unfortunately, that’s the extent of the information I’m allowed to give you,” she informed, a sad look in her eyes. “Is there anyone we can contact who is related to Mr. Munson?”

“His uh… his uncle, Wayne Munson,” Steve supplied. “He works at the local plant if that’s any help.”

He really wished it would.

“Thank you, we’ll start trying to locate him,” she responded. “Meanwhile, I think you should have that looked at.”

Steve followed her gaze to where his wounds were, noticing that they had started bleeding again. The makeshift bandage Nancy had fastened was loose from hauling Eddie, and he’s surprised no one told him to see to it sooner.

He grimaces as he looks at her, the pain flooding back to the surface once he realized it had yet to be taken care of, and nods. “Yeah, I think uh… I think you’re right.”

As soon as he walked back out to the waiting room after he was patched up, the emergency doors burst open to reveal a middle-aged man. He was gray-headed and slightly balding, wearing an old flannel and dirty jeans as he bee-lined for the reception desk. There was no doubt that this was Wayne Munson; he had Eddie’s eyes.

The nurse at the desk was talking to him, and every word seemed to suck more of the life from Wayne’s eyes. She pointed to Steve, and he felt frozen as Wayne looked over at him. He managed a smile and a small wave, but then Wayne was walking over to him and his stomach dropped.

“The lady said you brought my boy in?” Wayne asked, but his question was more of a statement than anything. It made Steve nervous to have the man look at him expectantly, like he had answers. Like he had something to do with Eddie being where he is now. In a way, he does.

“Yes, sir, I did. We were together when the… when the earthquake hit,” he supplies, forgetting what the cover story was halfway through. He gestured to the rest of the Party sitting in the room, half of them asleep and slumped over while the rest were wound tight and pacing. “The doctors didn’t wanna see him when we got here.”

“She said you were a Harrington,” Wayne stated. His eyes were cold and hard, face giving away nothing. It made Steve’s blood freeze. His name carries a lot of weight, yes, but it’s not the good kind. People hear his name and sneer. They think of all the rich, posh assholes he’s still neighbors with. They think of his parents with their vacations and mansions and money they throw at problems to make them go away, including Steve. No one thinks the Harringtons are good people, and Wayne seems to feel the same.

“By birth, yes, but respectfully, the Harringtons can go fuck themselves.”

It brings a surprised huff out of the older man, some warmth flooding back into his eyes at Steve’s blunt remark. He puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it slightly in a way that makes Steve think Wayne almost wants to hug him.

“Thank you for saving my boy…?” Wayne trailed off, raising an eyebrow and waiting. It took an embarrassingly long moment for him to realize what he wanted.

“Uh, Steve, sir. It’s Steve.”

“Steve,” Wayne finished. He gave what Steve thinks was an approximation of a smile, squeezing his shoulder once more before removing his hand. “You’re a good kid, Steve. Think you could do my boy some good if ya stick around.”

The sentiment made Steve smile a little. “If he’ll let me, I’ll stay as long as he’d like.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any problem with that, Steve,” Wayne answered mysteriously before he disappeared behind the double doors leading to the hallway, presumedly to find Eddie. Steve watched him go, watched the doors close behind his retreating back. He sighed before sitting down beside Robin, leaning his head on her shoulder and waited.

Now, he’s tired of waiting.

“It means, Eds, that I should’ve kissed you sooner,” Steve confesses, relishing in the second squeak Eddie lets out. “I should’ve kissed you in the woods in the Upside Down after you helped fight off the demobats, and again in the RV after you called me ‘big boy’—which I did like, by the way.

“I should’ve kissed you when you said to make Vecna pay, and again when you were bleeding out in my arms, and again when you woke up in the hospital because, Eds, I was so goddamn happy you were alive.

“I should’ve kissed you when I picked up the kids from their first Hellfire meeting after spring break from Hell, after they all bounded out of the trailer like puppies high on adrenaline and talking a mile a minute. You had come out with a huge smile on your face as you watched them from the front porch, arms crossed and leaning against the railing. I remember they wanted to tell me about the new villain you had come up with and you had told them to ‘give your mother some space, she’s had a long day’. Ever since then I’ve been ‘mom’, thanks to you,” Steve recalls, smiling at the memory rolling his eyes at both Eddie’s and the kid’s antics.

“I should’ve kissed you all those times you came into Family Video. Should’ve dragged you in the break room and kissed you senseless until Robin banged on the door,” Steve finishes. During his rant, a grin steadily grew on Eddie’s face, fully displaying his dimples. Steve finally gives into temptation and traces them with his thumb, easily finding the subtle divot and grazing over it gently.

“Sounds like we have a lot of time to make up for,” Eddie all but whispers, voice raspy and petal-soft. His eyes are fixated on Steve’s lips, and he can’t help but dart his tongue out to wet them to watch the way Eddie tracks the movement. Steve smiles and leans in a little.

“We do,” he agrees before using his grip to pull Eddie into a kiss. Their mouths slot together like they were always meant to, lips meeting in the middle and eyes softly closing.

Kissing Eddie Munson is like nothing he’d ever imagined. Eddie is a whirlwind, loud and brash with an attitude and sass for days. Steve thought he would kiss like he acts, thought it would be rough and all-consuming but this… this kiss is sweet. Just like how Eddie really is underneath everything else.

It’s slow and deliberate, like Eddie is trying to savor it as much as he can. Steve can’t deny that he is too, that he’s committing every second of this to memory and filing it away in the open box with Eddie’s name on it in his mind.

There’s a thrum under his skin, a growing electricity that bubbles and pops beneath his lips. It’s been years since he felt it, that intensity of a good kiss with the right person. He wants to chase it, wants it to consume him wholly until all he can feel is the zing of Eddie’s skin touching his.

Steve pulls him closer with the grip on his hair, opening his mouth slightly wider and delighting in the way Eddie’s tongue sneaks in to trace the line of his teeth. He smiles into the kiss, and Eddie does too, until they’re less than kissing and more like breathing each other in. Eddie giggles against his lips and Steve soon follows, their laughter growing until tears spring in their eyes.

Steve is the first to compose himself, dropping his arms to rest around the others shoulders and taking a breath before resting his forehead against Eddie’s. He can’t wipe the smile off his face and could never find reason enough to want to. He’s finally here, sitting in Eddie’s lap and being held like he matters.

“We’re idiots,” he murmurs, going cross-eyed as he tries to look in Eddie’s eyes. He smiles when Eddie tries to look back, going cross-eyed as well. He feels Eddie nod against him in agreement. “Total morons.”

Steve giggles at the blunt statement, closing his eyes and relishing in the fact that he has this now. This beautiful person who he can kiss and laugh and cry with and feel safe in a way he hasn’t felt in years. Robin is a saint, yes, but she—

He cuts his thoughts off with a groan as a realization washes over him, dropping his head to Eddie’s shoulder. He feels more than hears Eddie chuckle underneath him and smiles when he feels arms come up to wrap around his waist.

“What’s wrong, Stevie?” Eddie asks softly. Steve groans again for good measure, making sure to up the dramatics as much as possible.

“Robin’s gonna be so pissed at me,” he supplies.

Eddie hums underneath him. “Why’s that?”

Steve lifts his head to look at him, a cheeky smile on his face. “‘Cause I got a boyfriend first.”

It’s a half-truth, Steve deciding to play it safe in case Eddie doesn’t know. No relationship is worth outing a platonic soulmate, that much he does know.

Whether he knows or not, Eddie doesn’t show. Instead, a grin overtakes his face as a blush settles high on his cheeks. Eddie pulls back a little to get a good look at his face, eyes searching for something. “Do you mean it?”

“I’d want it more than anything in the world, Eds,” he murmurs, fingers lacing behind his neck and thumb brushing the tiny curly hairs found there.

Eddie takes a breath under him, shoulders rising with the action. Before Steve knows it, he’s being thrown off his very warm and very comfortable lap to flop against the stiff couch cushions. He’s about to protest, to ask what the hell that was for, but the sight before him makes the words die in his throat.

Eddie’s honest to god dancing around his living room, wagging his tight little ass around while fist-pumping the air. His hair bounces around and falls in his face, but nothing can obscure the blinding smile there. His dimples are on full display once again, and Steve finds that he could get used to seeing them everyday.

Steve laughs at his antics, which now include miming an incredibly complicated air guitar solo and head banging to imaginary music. This. This is the total dork of a man he managed to fall for. The thought makes him smile and watch his boy.

His boy. He likes the sound of that.

Next thing he knows, Eddie’s tackling him into the couch. Knees land on either side of his thighs and hands push his shoulders into the cushions before resting just above them. His hair tie has fallen out, causing a curtain of hair to block off anything other than Eddie’s face and making it seem like it’s only the two of them in the whole world.

Kisses are pressed to his face; both of his cheeks, the middle of his forehead, the tip of his nose, and all too briefly, his mouth. Eddie pulls back just so, the tips of their noses brushing.

“I would love to be your boyfriend,” he says through a smile.

Steve huffs a laugh, smiling at the man above him. “I kinda got that from the whole dance routine, Eds. Been practicing much?”

“Shut up,” Eddie groans while blushing, dropping his head so the curtain of hair hides him.

Steve tucks a chunk of hair behind Eddie’s ear. “Make me.”

Eddie looks up at him through his lashes, giving him a wolfish grin that briefly makes his stomach drop and tingles spread out over his skin. The other man leans down, flickering his eyes between Steve’s and his lips before kissing him.

This one is filled with warmth, so much so it reminds him of Joyce’s kitchen at the barbecue yet far more intense. It fills him with something akin to a warm summer morning, where dewdrops still grace the blades of grass and the sun makes them twinkle in the growing light.

It takes a second for him to realize that the feeling is happiness, that kissing Eddie makes him happy. It’s enough to make him almost start tearing up again, as he had resigned himself to never feeling this way again. He only hopes Eddie doesn’t—

Eddie notices. Of course he does, he notices almost everything—almost being a big word here. He pulls away, leaning on one elbow in order to prop himself up while the other hand finds its way to Steve’s cheek. His brows are furrowed, forming that little worry line between them as he looks down at him.

“Stevie, what’s wrong?” Eddie questions but Steve just shakes his head.

“Nothing’s wrong, Eds, promise.”

Those words grant him a look, one that says the other doesn’t believe him, and Steve rolls his eyes because really, he’s fine. The affronted look on Eddie’s face causes him to laugh wetly, making him realize he must be closer to crying than he initially thought.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just…” he pauses to sniffle. “I just realized something.”

“What is it?” Eddie asks before wiping a tear away from the corner of Steve’s eye with his thumb. The action makes him smile, a juxtaposition to his crying.

“I’m happy,” he confesses. “I’m genuinely fucking happy for the first time in ages and this,” he pauses and grabs Eddie’s face gently, barely cradling his jaw in his hands. “You make me happy.”

He watches Eddie go soft, his tense posture from worrying going slack. His big brown eyes fill with pure love as he leans in again, kissing Steve. That’s what the third kiss feels like; love.

It feels like coming home after a long day and cuddling on the couch, sharing lazy kisses while watching trashy TV and eating shitty fast food. It feels like dancing in the kitchen to a song on the radio, singing the lyrics to one another without a care in the world if it sounds bad. It feels like holding each other in the night, soothing away nightmares with gentle touches and soft kisses and kind words.

Steve sighs into the kiss, opening up and deepening it just a little before dragging Eddie down on top of him. Eddie squawks and flops on him, his body weight grounding Steve and making him feel present, real. He huffs, the air tickling Steve’s throat where his head landed, causing Steve to roll his eyes at his antics while pulling the blanket on the back of the couch over the both of them.

“If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just said so,” Eddie mumbles, voice muffled from both the blanket and his position over Steve. Steve only smiles, a hand finding Eddie’s hair to idly play with it.

“What’s the fun in that?” He counters. He feels Eddie shrug before shuffling around to get more comfortable, ending up curled on his chest with an arm wrapped tight around his waist.

Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head before settling down himself, closing his eyes and listening to the steady breathing of the other man paired with the thu-thump of his heart. As he does so, he thinks that maybe he’s not as alone as he’d thought. That maybe, just maybe, he really is cut out for love.

———

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[turnaboutfix]

Good evening pals it's time for more "things I like about the Ace Attorney Anime despite the budget being less than what I have in my piggy bank". Tonight is one of my favorite adaption decisions from "Farewell, My Turnabout" (obvious Spoilers for that case, you have been warned).

To start, the art in the anime is often pretty funky and off model, but I wanted to highlight this frame when Phoenix is talking to Matt Engarde in the detention center with his reflection in the shot. It is genuinely well drawn and downright horrifying. Actually, the whole episode has pretty good draftsmen working on the character animation, considering.

I could honestly leave it as is, but this next scene is what I want to talk about the most. (I have to leave some stuff out because of the 30 image limit--I took like 50 screencaps of this scene in total lol--so bare with me.) Phoenix steps out of the Detention center to see a certain prosecutor waiting for him.

The following conversation takes place in the Criminal Affairs Department in the game, but in the anime, it takes place in Edgeworth's office! (RIP Eddy's Bratworth outfit which is just a 2D image on that wall lmao--again, there are some well drawn stuff but this is just silly.) Another note: the text is from the sub with the localized English names, and it's a bit different from the dub.

This shot lingers for a bit, and you hear traffic outside before the following happens. The rest is under the cut.

Brilliant, incredible, amazing, showstopping, spectacular, never the same... you get the idea haha. I love it very much.

[buddiebeginz]

WHY DID THEY SHOW EDDIE WATCHING BUCK REPEL DOWN THE CLIFF?! Choices and so early on too 😩

I'm assuming you're talking about this gifset I reblogged. Honestly I think that Eddie was supposed to be queer from the beginning. I know people think Buck was but I'm not sure if that was necessarily the writers intention. It might have been Oliver's intention to play him that way, I can't remember what he said word for word but I think it was something about how he's always seen Buck as bi. But I think in scenes like the season 1 tapeworm episode where Buck seems to bond with the gay couple it's supposed to come off more like Buck is just being his himbo self more than anything else. I mean I do think when we're looking back on the show there are definitely signs of his bisexuality (the tapeworm scene being one) but I don't know that the writers wrote him at the time with that intention.

But I think there's a good possibility that they brought Eddie in always wanting to have him be a character that comes out eventually. I mean look at how we're introduced to Eddie. Then look at how everything with Shannon was handled. They easily could have kept her around longer and turned their relationship into a will they/won't they. They could have made it so we saw how in love with her Eddie has always been but that's not what happened. They let us know right away that the main draw to that relationship for Eddie was familiarity and the fact that Shannon is Chris' mother. These factors have continued to come into play in Eddie's other relationships too. Like with Ana there was a familiarity in that she was Chris' teacher and Eddie was mostly looking for someone to fill the mother figure role for Chris.

While I think that Eddie was always intended to be queer I don't think they wanted him to come out immediately like they did with a character like Michael. I think the plan was to tell his story slowly and have him come out later. The Ana storyline I think was supposed to be the lead in to having Eddie come out. The main reason I believe this (apart from just look at how that storyline was handled) is the person on twitter with inside info to the show said as much.

I also think that around s3 they started to really notice the chemistry between Buck and Eddie and how much people were shipping them because that's when we got scenes like "there's no one in this world I trust with my son more" and "you want to go for the title" and the grocery story fight which totally read like a lovers quarrel. Or how they had Eddie seeing images of Buck flash in his mind when he almost died in the well. Or having Buck scream for Eddie when he almost died in the well.

I think by the time they got to season 4 there were serious discussions about putting Buck and Eddie together. We know from Oliver that the plan was originally to have Buck come out in s4 and presumably Eddie in s5 along with Buddie going canon. But Fox put a stop to that. If you go by what the insider said and by how season 4 was handled especially the shooting (which is incredibly romance coded) there's no way that Buddie wasn't in the plans by this point.

Plus you had Tim leaving around this time likely at least in part because he was frustrated with how Fox was stifling his show. You can also see remnants of where the story was supposed to go in s5. All that stuff with Eddie and Ana and the panic attacks and Buck being worried about him that was definitely supposed to be a part of Eddie's coming out arc I'm positive on that. I also think that Taylor (when she came back in s4) was originally just supposed to be a friend who helped Buck figure things out but instead Fox pushed for her to be a love interest. This would explain Oliver's dislike of the relationship and complete lack of supporting it. Similar to how he's been with B/T.

Anyway sorry I went off on a ramble. I could talk about these guys all day. 😅

Oh and I leave you with this anon Eddie in s3 checking out a hot guy's ass. (and Chimney clocking him doing it😝)

[copperbadge]

If its not too personal could you talk about what was the inspiration for Michaelis? He's got a lot of depth to him, especially for what could have been a one off character in the background after Fete. Also the way he mourns but carries on really resonates with me in Jes.

Oh sure! I mean, on the one hand it is quite personal but it's a kind of personal I really enjoy sharing. :D Michaelis began life as the Standard Hallmark Parent -- you see them a lot in the movies, the parent who is

1. Kinda grouchy

2. Usually pushing their kid slightly too hard in slightly the wrong direction (with the best of intentions)

3. Often a widow/er

4. Practically a cameo designed to stress out the lead, but easily attractive enough that they could be romantic lead themselves in the sequel.

There are actually several Hallmark films where the over-sixty characters are either the supporting romance in a one-off film or the main romance of a sequel film. (The Wedding Veil films, which despite their flaws are actually very enjoyable, have a Michaelis-like character for the mother of the male lead in the first movie, and she then becomes the major supporting romantic lead in the fourth movie.)

By the time I got to Michaelis talking to Eddie at the end of the script for Fete, I'd grown to really like him. When I adapted the script to a novel, I liked him even more. I thought that I could do a sequel with him getting jolted out of himself a bit -- and I was encouraged by how many people liked him in the initial read through. The main inspirations for the actual plot of Infinite Jes were, one, Gregory jokingly suggesting he do a podcast, and two, Michaelis's defensive dismissal of Gregory's question about what he's done for companionship since Miranda passed.

Over the course of writing Infinite Jes, he came to be a collection of themes I've explored or wanted to explore, sometimes themes I knew I wasn't skilled enough to handle yet. The core of him is based on a professor I worked with as a student; the confidence that occasionally tips into arrogance, the keen intellect that likes to take things apart, the ability to look at some toxic family traits and decide "RIP but I'm different" and be a present, nurturing masculine figure, all come from that professor, who had a huge impact on me.

But I have also been fascinated for decades now by a certain kind of character in fiction, someone who has had a devastating loss and keeps going, even if they aren't driven by something like revenge. Profound grief is difficult and fascinating for me, and I finally felt capable of exploring that fully, perhaps because the pressure on romance novels is a bit lower at times.

And honestly, a lot of him is me, processing the fact that I am aging in fandom. I'm older (44) than the oldest person I knew in fandom (38) when I joined it at the age of 14. I have, for lack of a better word, a position in fandom, a status, that affords me certain perks and requires of me certain obligations. Not to call myself elected king of fandom ("I didn't vote for him!") but the duty I feel to fandom, both as a culture that raised me and a found family, is very similar.

Most of my characters contain some of me, but Michaelis and Jerry contain far more of me than most, perhaps because I'm in a place to do some reflection. Michaelis -- intelligent, experienced, hopefully a mentor, but also lonely and detached at times -- is who I'm coming to grips with being; Jerry, the charming fuckup with power but no real clue how to use it, who is doing his best to grow up a little later than a lot of his peers and figure out how disability fits into his identity, is who I still see myself as.

So yeah -- I find Michaelis incredibly fun and compelling to write for, and I think that's because I had hit a skill level in my work where I could combine a lot of tropes and themes into one character and use him to explore why I enjoy them so much. But he definitely began life as the Hallmark Widowed Dad. :D Well, there are worse origin stories.

[jackwhiteprophetic]

Okay so I don't usually go into asks, so l'm sorry if this isn't the correct etiquette (its not rlly an ask, more of a anti-bt rant), BUT the amount of bt truthers on my feed recently have been pissing me off, and then I saw this one post that said,

"honestly i love tommy not entertaining their shovel talk with any serious answers, he's like yeah this is my relationship with my adult bf who wants me so im gonna go eat my cake now (double entendre)"

Which??? I don't even know what to say.

honestly i love Tommy not entertaining their shovel talk with any serious answers

Shovel talk?? You mean them asking legitimate questions on his intentions with their friend, who they care about??? who they're protective over??? who's dating a guy that in the past was both racist and misogynistic??? Who treated hen terribly when she joined the 118???

Idk about some people but I'd def hold a grudge 💀??

And it's the way he's not even TRYING. Like they said, not entertaining their questions with any serious answers. he's just making poorly landing jokes (that apparently his cult following chalks up as sass????) and being so dismissive of everything they say.

"I'm wearing a medal" dear god I hated him before that clip but the way he was acting made me hate him even more and gave me SO MUCH of an ick.

It's the way his following are following him so blindly? That they can't see that he wasn't being sassy he was being a sarcastic little shit who doesn't know how to read the room. Henren are trying to look out for their friend who this asshat is dating and he can't even bring himself to try to assure them that he's good for buck.

Idk I think I might've gotten a bit off topic but bt stans are so aggravating???? I've been called 'delusional' by so many people in this fandom who used to be buddie shippers but converted as soon as Buck was kissed by another guy.... And I've seen so many bt shippers be like 'Oh, yeah, I used to be in that sub fandom, I know how annoying and pushy they are'. I'm SO tired of the infighting, and the sudden shitting on Eddie that's going on ever since Tommy reentered the picture. And I'm so tired of THEM thinking that bt will be endgame because it's Buck's first relationship with a man and Bobby gave his approval. They don't care about Buck. I saw another post the other day talking about how 'Evan Buckley better not break Tommy Kinard's soft gentle heart or they're gonna have words'. Atp all they care about is Lou/Tommy. 

Hello!!! Anyone is always welcome to send me asks especially just to rant, I don't end up responding to all of them because I don't want to only focus on Tommy or BT shippers because there are lots of other less aggravating things to talk about, but I saw the same post and I had the same thoughts and I will say I find it incredibly frustrating how some people have praised Tommy for that scene.

Because I think he should be a lot more ashamed of how he treated Hen, and I think if he understood the weight of his ignorance/outright bigotry on her in the past, he would be a lot more receptive of the fact that obviously she feels protective over her friend in this situation. The fact is, the characters of Gerrard and Tommy were written in S2 to show how fucking dangerous workplace bigotry is. They're firefighters. Try telling me that Tommy would have fought as hard to get Hen from a burning building than a white male teammate. Do we think that this extended to the public? When Gerrard was probably evacuating crew members from burning houses earlier than he would for white neighbourhoods, do we think Tommy stood up and said "no, I'm an ally and I say this is wrong, we should fight just as hard for every life". Or did he sit there like a fucking coward and think about cars or boxing or something? I don't have much more to add because I fucking hate the character so much and I am quite disgusted by the white people who excuse this or look past it. You should feel more shame and Tommy should show he is fucking ashamed of his actions and at least show Hen some fucking respect. Tommy should take Hen seriously because his actions had fucking serious real life consequences.

Anyway thank you for the ask!!! My ask box is always open for people to rant and I will always read them!! I'm very much limiting how much I talk about that character BC I am trying to focus more on positive stuff, but if anyone would like to message me ranting about him or any 911 thing I am always available!!!

[stevethehairington]

okay so. overall review:

actually not as bad as i expected it to be! and not as bad as i thought it was going to turn out while i was in the trenches there lol. i still wished it focused a little more on eddie's home life/relationship with his dad and uncle AND his friends, and had way less of the romance stuff (read: none), BUT i will admit that there ended up being a lot less of the romance stuff than i initially expected and a lot less than it seemed like there would be while still in the middle of the book.

the paige stuff still made me uncomfy bc i didn't like the power dynamics there (paige had something eddie wanted desperately, and i don't like the idea that that could have had something to do with his "feelings" for her/why he engaged with them ((esp bc let's be real — he didn't seem super torn up over not getting to be with her in the end)) or that she used that to her advantage bc there was ALSO something in it for her) BUT i will say they did make it slightly less skeezy than i expected bc she was only a couple years older than him instead of like. significantly older like i expected.

i do wish there was more about eddie's friends and their fallout and reconciliation. his friends were super important to him and he just. dropped them. like that. and there was BARELY any blowback. like yeah there was a fight with ronnie, but we never actually got to see the reactions of any of the other hellfire/corroded coffin guys, and i would've liked to see that. same with the reconciliation, it felt very minimal — i would've liked to see more of how that played out too.

I LOVED EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN SECOND OF WAYNE MUNSON CONTENT, THAT MAN IS A GIFT HE IS AN ANGEL I ADORE HIM WITH EVERYTHING IN ME. IF THERE IS ONE THING THIS BOOK HAS DONE IT HAS SOLIDIFIED MY STANCE THAT WAYNE MUNSON IS THE BEST GOD DAMN CHARACTER AND I WOULD DIE FOR HIM.

as for eddie — i think the author did an alright job finding his voice. there were times where i thought she really nailed it, but there were also A LOT of times where i thought "he would never say that!!" "he would never do that!!". it wasn't very consistent, but overall it wasn't awful and there were some good parts!

the other characters we know and love that made cameos — VERY fun to see them (gareth, chrissy, jason, hopper, will, jonathan!!!) gareth was ESPECIALLY fun to see because they really embraced that feral chihuahua boy energy we love to assign to him. BUT. i am SO incredibly upset with how badly they massacred my boy tommy h (whOSE LAST NAME THEY COULDNT EVEN GET RIGHT I MEAN W H A T!?) they fucking. got his characterization SO BAD. it was awful. i am. personally offended by it (joking, mostly rhsjsi). (as a tommy lover i am. devastated tho. HE WOULD NOT DO THAT!!!)

OH ALSO — reefer rick. WHAT a fun dude. hes out here in his robe and bunny slippers drinking darjeeling tea, living it up. what a guy.

id like to give a huge FUCK YOU to principal higgins too! they made that dude a straight up MONSTER. he was unnecessarily CRUEL and some of the things he said straight up to eddies face,,,,,,, sir what the FUCK. i know the 80s was a different time but jesus fucking cHRIST was casual cruelty and bullying from grown ass ADULTS commonplace? i sure hope not.

ALSO FUCK AL MUNSON LIVES ALL MY HOMIES HATE AL MUNSON LIVES. that man was AWFUL, TRULY HONESTLY GENUINELY THE WORST. neglectful and cruel and downright AWFUL. NOT ONLY DID HE CONSISTENTLY ABANDON EDDIE THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE BUT THEN HE DREW EDDIE INTO HIS SCHEMES, CONNED HIM, FUCKED UP REAL BIG, AND THEN LEFT EDDIE IN THE ASHES OF THEIR — OF HIS — HOME AS THE ONLY PERSON LEFT WITH THE COP WHO GOT SHOT AND IS LIKE SLOWLY BLEEDING OUT. TALK ABOUT FUCKING TRAUMA WHAT THE FUCK. i hope he got flayed ALIVE by charlie greene lmao it would serve him right that absolute twat waffle.

also, im gonna be real. the end of that book was actually INSANELY depressing. like, it tried to be positive because you gotta end on a positive note right? but it just fell. COMPLETELY flat. bc we all know what happens to eddie in canon. he's sitting there reenrolling in school, peacoking around about how he's GOING to finish high school and he's GOING to graduate and he's GOING to show principal higgins that he CAN do it and that he ISNT the fuckup deliquent he's convinced he is. BUT WE ALL KNOW HE DOESNT FUCKING GET THAT IN CANON. he's taking waynes advice and fully embracing who he is and he's learning to be comfortable in his own skin and to rise above all the noise of people who don't like him and think he's a freak. ONLY WE KNOW HE NEVER TRULY GETS TO DO THAT EITHER BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW HOW IT ENDS IN CANON. so yeah it just ends up being a REALLY fucking BLEAK ending because all of that "positivity" is absolutely tainted. it's fucking soured. and i am once again INSANELY INFURIATED about eddies death. so fuck the duffers, again.

also, eddie munson literally never caught a fucking break. not one fucking break. his ENTIRE life was just one series of tragedies after the other and it truly just continued on that way until he fucking died. honestly, its a goddamn MIRACLE that he has ANY ounce of positivity and optimism and hope left in his life when we get to him in s4. thatd how utter dogshit a hand he has been dealt in life. and it only.got worse from there. and i will NEVER forgive ANYONE involved in his creation for that.

so yeah! that concludes my journey reading flight of icarus. it was a wild ride lol.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

This is just a lil story that has been nagging at me for days to be written :) I may post a longer more fleshed out version eventually ❤️

Smut, 18+ minors go away, fwb who fall in love ;) the usual.

Not canon because my fanfics refuse to entertain the fact that Eddie is dead. Kay?

🌸

This thing between you and Eddie had started a few weeks ago, when he gave you a lift home after your so-called boyfriend (now dumped) abandoned you in a storm for Jenny Turner.

"Hey, you need a ride?" you looked up and saw Eddie Munson in his van, the window rolled down as he peered at you worriedly.

The wind was howling and you were freezing, you couldn't believe David had been such a jerk and just left you in this storm, all because Jenny flashed him a dimpled smile and batted her eyes.

Or it was just the fact that he was a huge jerk.

You were beyond angry at him and accepted the ride because it would piss David off and you wanted to get home.

Eddie walked you from his van to your front door making sure that you were going inside safely.

That's when you kissed him and one thing lead to another and you had minblowing sex that lasted for hours.

Thank god your parents were away because Eddie could make you scream...

It was a one-off you both told each other as you dressed quickly that morning, ignoring the love bites between your thighs and on your breasts or your faint nail marks on his back.

You didn't think that you'd end up in the back of Eddies van the next day, on your knees as you sucked him off, his hand fisted in your hair and grunts of pleasure emitting from him and his big brown eyes wide and full of awe.

"You're incredible baby, so good" He groans and comes hard, his cheeks flushed, smile firmly on his face.

It was all you could think about was feeling him deep inside you again, the way his body fit perfectly against yours.

Eddie's lips between your thighs were heavenly, you were so lost in the pleasure that you could happily stay there forever.

Eddie pleased you in ways you never thought could be possible, you fit together so perfectly.

The sex was off the scale in terms of how amazing it was and you found you liked being with Eddie, waking up in his arms in the morning after the nights you shared.

Hooking up with him happened again and again and before you knew it you were staying at his more and more often.

Some nights you wouldn't have sex, just listen to him as he strategised campaigns for dnd or he would read to you, making up funny voices for different characters or play the guitar for you.

With him, you could just relax and be yourself without having to impress anybody or trying to be someone you just weren't.

At school you gravitated towards each other, he would find any excuse to be near you, you both would find excuses to exchange secret touches.

A caress on the back, fingers touching for a few seconds. Your gazes would constantly find each other and when they did it was like no one was around.

Just you two.

He would hold doors open for you, let you pass him in the hallways or cafeteria with a dramatic flourish that always made you smile.

Your friends would ask why he was hanging around you and giggle that the freak had a crush.

You told them to shut up and not call him a freak and honestly you were so smitten with Eddie you didn't give a shit what they thought.

Eddie could also make you laugh like no one else.

It didn't take you long to realize that you had fallen in love for the first time. You were just nervous to say anything in case Eddie didn't feel the same way.

Little did you know Eddie was having the same worries, his brain going a mile a minute.

He loved you. Truly fallen in love for the first time and it was exhilarating and terrifying. He hadn't felt this way about any woman before.

The truth was he had started to say it when you would fall asleep, falling into a deep sleep where you would cuddle into his chest

He would brush the hair away from your forehead, pepper your head with soft kisses and whisper I love you very, very softly. Almost impercetible.

Maybe one day he would work up the courage to tell you properly.

❤️🌸

[canislupus-exe]

Just For You | eddie munson

SPOILER FREE

fandom | Stanger Things

character | Eddie Munson

reader | he/him/amab (she/her/afab ver.)

requested | anonymous

warnings | smut/nsfw, mirror sex

word count | 2,272

keys | (Y/n) = Your name

summary | so like eddie smut where he tells the m reader that hed look really good in a skirt and the reader is like psh no yeah right i could never and theyre kinda being jokey about it but then later the reader surprises eddie in his trailer wearing a skirt and fishnets and he gets super horny and fucks him within an inch of his life? i just think it would be really good okay...

editor | @feliscatus-exe

>> back to prev <<

Keep reading

You hummed quietly to the song playing over the loudspeakers. The gentle clang of the hangers on the rack was somewhat melodic as you sifted through the clothes, trying to find something that fit your taste. Most of the jeans were obnoxiously blue, but you kept looking in case something caught your eye.

There was a nice pair that looked like they’d fit comfortably, and a major plus, they weren’t that incredibly saturated blue like the rest of the items on the rack. You pulled them out and draped them over your arms but continued looking in case there would be another pair you liked.

As you pushed aside another hanger of blue jeans, you paused at what was behind them. A black skirt hidden in the men’s section. You wondered how it got there. Maybe a girl asked her boyfriend to buy it for her but he said no and didn’t feel like taking it back. You pulled it out, you weren’t even sure why. You could’ve just ignored it, but something in your brain told you to look at it closer.

“Ooh, I bet your girlfriend will look great in that!” A store worker said from behind you. You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to see you. But why was your heart still beating so fast, as if you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to?

“Oh, y-yeah. I’m sure she will.” You replied with an awkward smile.

“You should get it for her!” She said before walking away. You should’ve put it back, knowing full well you had no girlfriend to give it to. But you couldn’t stop staring.

“Woah, a skirt (Y/n)? That’s out of character.” Your boyfriend said with a smirk. You looked at him and rolled your eyes.

“Yeah right. There’s no way I’m buying this thing.” You replied.

“Aw really? Not even for me?” He asked, holding his hand over his heart and making those puppy dog eyes that he knew chipped at your willpower. You shook your head and hung the skirt back up.

“No way. I’m a dude. Dudes don’t wear skirts, Eddie.” 

“Maybe not lame ones. Honestly, though, it would look great on you.” He replied as he leaned on the rack.

“In your dreams Munson.” You said as you started to walk further down the aisle.

“Oh trust me, it will be.”

>><<

You paced the floor of your room, biting your cuticles to preoccupy yourself. Why were you still thinking about that damn skirt? It didn’t make any sense. You didn’t wear skirts, you didn’t like wearing skirts, the thought of wearing one never even crossed your mind. But this one… it was like the minute you set your sights on it, it crawled into your head and kept itself there. Sunk its claws into your brain and stayed attached for dear life, like a parasite.

Sure, you might’ve been overreacting, it was just a skirt after all, but it was starting to annoy you. It kept popping back up whenever you’d least expect it. Thinking about putting it on, the soft fabric against your legs and hips. You were romanticizing it.

It didn’t help that Eddie kept pestering you about it. He was constantly telling you how hot it would be if you wore a skirt. He said he didn’t mind, and you would be desirable in anything, but you could tell he wanted to see you in the damn thing. It didn’t surprise you of course. People often want what they can’t have, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t starting to sway you.

You looked out your bedroom window at your car, then at the phone sitting by your bed. You gnawed on your cuticle a bit harder. You weren’t actually going through with this, were you? 

You picked the phone up, hesitating only once. You dialed the number you knew by heart, half of you praying that he wouldn’t be home to answer. It rang once, then twice, then— he picked up.

“Hello?”

“What are you up to?” You asked with bated breath.

“I was just about to walk out the door when you called. I need to run a few errands.” He replied. You bit your lip.

“How long will you take?”

“Mmm. Probably an hour tops, why?”

“I wanted to see you today, I miss you.”

“Alright, I can swing by your place to pick you up before I-“

“You can’t. I-I haven’t showered yet. I’ll just be there when you get home. I still have my key.” You replied. You could hear him laugh.

“Alright. I’ll see you soon then.” He said. You wished him goodbye before hanging up. You sat on your bed, still nervously biting your cuticles. You were really gonna do this, huh?

>><<

Your hands shook as they smoothed over the surface. You didn’t know why you were so nervous. It was just a skirt. A skirt that you knew he liked. But still, your heart thumped in your throat all the same.

You looked in the full-length mirror. You liked the way it fit you. You liked the whole outfit. One of Eddie’s cropped Megadeth shirts, the black skirt that was just slightly too short, and nothing but fishnets underneath, a touch you were sure he’d enjoy. You were surprised by how much you enjoyed it.

“Sweetheart? Where are you?” You heard Eddie call from the living room. He was already home. Shit. You thought you had more time to psych yourself up.

“I-In here.” You called out. Your voice was high-pitched from your nervousness and you felt like your heart was lodged in your throat.

You faced the door as you heard his footsteps approaching. You wrung your hands together, doing your best to keep yourself from throwing up. You saw the doorknob turn, and he was in the doorway before you could process it.

He stopped. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Instead, he just stared, slack-jawed and speechless. You bit your lip and covered your exposed abdomen with your arms.

“H-Hi…” You mumbled. He took a step into the room.

“Did you-“

“Yes. I went back and bought the skirt. Y-You kept nagging about it and it was starting to get on my nerves so I just bought it to shut you up because I know you like it. You do like it, right?” You asked, making eye contact for the first time. He approached you and moved your arms so he could place his hands on your waist.

“Of course I like it. You look… wow.” He pulls you close to his body, and you can feel his hard-on pressing against you. If you doubted him at all, that certainly reassured you.

“My shirt… The fishnets… You went all out for me? Didn’t you?” He asked, leaning over and slowly beginning to kiss your neck. You whimpered and nodded.

“I wanted you to enjoy it. T-To enjoy me.” You whispered. He laughed a quiet, low laugh that sent shivers down your spine.

“Oh, this is just the beginning of my enjoyment of you. I’m gonna enjoy you all night long sweetheart.” He replied, biting your neck. You moaned quietly as his hands now began to trail under your skirt.

“Do my hands deceive me? Nothing underneath the fishnets?” He asked. Your embarrassment grew tenfold as you looked away.

“Tsk tsk tsk. When did my boyfriend become such a slut? Or is this just for me?” He asks.

“It’s just for you…” You whispered.

“Hm? I didn’t quite catch that. Say it a bit louder.”

“It’s just for you Eddie.” You say, much louder than before. He smirked and grabbed your ass.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He replied. He kneeled before you and kissed the lower half of your thigh. You covered your mouth and looked away, too embarrassed to keep looking at him.

He trailed his kisses up your thigh, biting occasionally until he reached your hips. His hands crept under your skirt and you could feel them hovering right between your legs. You heard a tear and inhaled went you felt his hand graze your bare cock.

“Eddie! Did you tear my fishnets?” You asked, looking down at his smirk-ridden face.

“I didn’t want you to take them off but I still needed access. I’ll buy you a new pair, don’t worry.” He replied. You were going to scold him more, but your words were cut off with a gasp as he lifted your skirt and ran his tongue along the underside of your cock.

His breath was hot as his tongue continued to tease you with no mercy. Licking circles around your cockhead and pressing kisses along the shaft, but never putting you in his mouth fully.

“Eddie please.” You whined.

“Please what?” He asked. 

“M-More. I need more.” You breathed out. He pulled his head out from under your skirt, a smirk still plastered on his face.

“Oh, I’ll give you more baby.” He replied as he stood up. You furrowed your eyebrows as he turned you around. Your eyes widened as you saw yourself in the mirror. What was he thinking?

His hands burned hot against your waist, pulling your backside close to him. You whimpered, feeling his clothed cock press against you and only flustering you further. He kissed your neck before pulling away. You would’ve protested had you not recognized the sound of him pulling off his pants. You bit your lip and reached to pull down your skirt, but were stopped by Eddie’s hands on yours.

“Don’t. I want you to watch me fuck you in that skirt.” He said. You sputtered out a noise of surprise and felt yourself get harder just from his words.

“Sit down.” He demanded. You swallowed and did as you were told, gently kneeling so you were at his level. He pushed your back down so your ass was on full display for him.

“Eyes on the mirror sweetheart.” He said. You bit your lip and nodded, looking into the mirror. Your hair was unkempt and you looked like a mess, but you fixed your eyes on him.

He brought two fingers to his lips, coating them in his saliva. He pressed them to your entrance and you shuddered. He licks his lips before pushing them inside of you. You close your eyes in pain, balling up your fists to distract yourself. 

He worked his fingers in and out, stretching your walls so you’d be able to take him. The pain slowly faded into pleasure and you began to moan quietly. His pace started to pick up and you began to drool from the feeling, but all too soon he pulled them out. You whined but stopped when he pulled you onto his lap. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling his cock nested between your thighs.

He lifted your hips and pressed his head against your entrance, practically teasing you. It didn’t take long for him to push it inside, groaning as your tight walls enveloped him. He pushed in further and further until he was finally completely bottomed out inside of you.

“Fucking hell. You take my cock so good baby.” He groaned. You whimpered as he hooked his arms under your knees. You made a noise of confusion but it quickly turned into a loud moan as he lifted you off the ground. His arms were locked under your knees, his cock reaching much further than before.

“Like that sweetheart? Look in the mirror. I told you, I want you to watch while I fuck you. If I see you looking away, I’ll stop, got it?” He asked. You nodded furiously, begging for him to move.

He pulled you up and thrust his hips at the same time. The feeling of his cock pounding inside you made you moan loudly. You’d never felt his dick this deep inside you, and it was making you go crazy. Drool trickled down the corner of your mouth as you could barely string together a coherent string of words to form a thought, let alone a sentence.

“You look so pretty in the mirror baby. So pretty taking my cock. My pretty boy.” He whispered in your ear. You whimpered, feeling him fuck his cock into your prostate.

“Ohhh, that’s it isn’t it baby? That’s the spot that makes you so fucking tight around me. Fuck yes.” He groaned out. 

Your eyes were drowsy, but knowing he’d stop if you looked away, you kept them on the mirror. You watched his cock pop in and out of your ass, your own cock bouncing as he fucked you senselessly. The sight of it seemed to bring you even closer to orgasm.

“Yeah baby, that’s it. Watch me as I make you cum in your pretty little skirt. The skirt you’re wearing for who?”

“Y-You.”

“Say my name.”

“Eddie.” You moan out. He pounds his cock into your prostate even harder.

“Again!” He moans. You open your mouth but can’t speak. Your orgasm is creeping up on you and all you can do is moan and gasp. Finally, with one final thrust, you’re sent over the edge.

“Eddie~” You yell, your body shaking as strings of cum shoot out of your cockhead. The sight in the mirror brings Eddie to his own orgasm, his hips sputtering as he cums deep inside you. You pant and moan at the feeling, leaning your head back into his shoulder as you try to catch your breath.

“You’ve got to wear this again.”

“Don’t worry, I planned on it.”

[thestobingirlie]

Sometimes when I see people making comments about Steve's polos being out of place/ unfashionable are looking at fashion through a 2020s lens, not a 1980s lens. Striped polos were in fashion and incredibly popular for teen boys and girls in the 80s. Paired with his tight jeans, he was pretty much the image of what was fashionable among high schoolers in the mid-1980s.

Also, this is a fic thing, but I hate the way people act like Steve would be obviously out of place or get denied entry to gay bars because of the way he dressed. The amount of fics I've seen with him being made to wear either Robin's or Eddie's clothes, or he gets turned away at the door by security ("this is not the place for you" or he gets told to go to a normal bar) or questioned about his intentions by any member of staff. It's not hard to find photos from pride parades in the 80s, or photos from inside gay bars, look through a few on google images and it won't be long before you start seeing guys in polo shirts. And unless it was a place that had a specific dress code, like a leather bar, they would have had no problem with what he wears. (And again, people are writing gay fashion as it is now, not what it was in the 80s.)

i see people complaining about steve’s clothes all the time and it’s kinda annoying! like, if it was just people within the fandom complaining, sure, not everyone has to like 80s fashion, but people have characters in fics do it! and it’s like… steve dresses like a little popular boy in the 80s because that’s what he is! i could understand, like, eddie making jokes about steve looking like a normie or something, but it really doesn’t make sense for the other characters to take the piss out of him as much as they do. anyway, i think steve looks cute in his polos and so does everyone else in the st universe <3

i’ll admit, i don’t read a lot of those fics because i do not like them lmao. but i have seen a couple that do that kind of thing and it is stupid!! steve dresses like boys did in the 80s, and yes, even gay boys wore polos. it’s weird, like, have these people honestly not interacted with any older media? they watched stranger things and that’s it? steve would be welcomed into a gay bar, it doesn’t even make sense that they would turn him away because he’s wearing a polo.

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; barnaby

requested by ; anonymous (09/05/23)

fandom(s) ; welcome home

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; barnaby b. beagle

outline ; “i LOVEEE the way you write so much🙏!!Is it possible that you could do barnaby head cannons but romantic? If you want😭”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

this relationship is built on a foundation of shared humour, carefreeness and just generally being on the same wavelength whilst also being in love with each other

his love language is quality time, which usually involves him doing everything he can to make you laugh — even making a fool of himself in order to have you folding in on yourself and wheezing from laughter

dates aren’t really a fixed thing since the two of you spend basically all of you time around each other anyway, but you do try to take one day out of the week and just dedicate it to doing something new together

this can be trying a new food, visiting a new place or trying to learn a new phrase in a new language (usually a joke)

this way you end up making plenty of memories and, even if you end up looking like fools a lot of the time, you end up growing as people and as a couple through these new experiences

he gives you lots of stupid nicknames and they change with basically every sentence he says — and, somehow, he’s never repeated one, which is actually quite impressive

you are his arm rest. this is non negotiable

he loves hugging and cuddling you, meaning you’ll usually end up spending the evening wrapped up in his arms as you watch whatever new vhs he managed to snag from howdy on a loan

scratching behind his ears will make him fall asleep — but be warned that he both snores like a freight train and kicks like a mule in his sleep

he will pick you up at random and it’s 50/50 whether you’ll get the princess treatment or just get flung over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes

it depends on his mood, honestly

he didn’t realise that he had feelings for you until, midway through his 90th rant about how awesome you are, julie piped up and asked when he was going to ask you out

and he did, about twenty minutes after she said it

he only ever gets jealous of dogs — like if you come home after petting and cuddling with a friend’s puppy then he’ll get incredibly pouty

this only really lasts about ten minutes though, so don’t worry, he can’t stay mad at you

usually goes to wally for relationship advice — and, no, wally doesn’t know why he does this either and will usually flag down julie or eddie to give him a nudge in the right direction

he’d 100% do the handprint thing from up and your mailbox 100% has your smaller handprint inside of his massive paw print — his in blue and yours in your favourite (non-blue) colour

(eddie thinks it’s adorable whenever he delivers your mail and wants to do the same thing with frank)

you have frequent prank wars that can involve anything from whoopee cushions to pies-to-the-face to water-filled fake flowers to basically anything else

as one could expect, this means that your house is pretty much always in a state of chaos — but it’s still your home and neither of you would have it any other way