#stranger my beloved <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[miwiromantics]

It makes me visibily sick to remember that Joyce byers thought her son was a victim of a hate crime when he went missing. She was terrified that something horrible happened to her son in their conservative town.

It makes me throw up when I think about how Jonathan even checked the trunk of lonnie’s car because he knew he was capable of doing horrible things to his brother. Even thought Will wasn’t there, just the fact that he had to check is sickening enough.

It’s sick that people think the boy that has been subjected to abuse and hatred by his own father, his classmates and entire town is a crybaby for wanting to play with his friends. It’s just disgusting.

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask. 

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map. 

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans. 

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste. 

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process. 

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

[siriuslysmoking]

Oh, Baby

A/N: I have not been motivated in the slightest to write anything recently, but I was in the shower and thought of this.

Warnings: Pregnant!reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, delivery, comfort, Y/n is overused, I have no idea what pregnancy or birth feels like, this is all either from google or how I think It'd feel like.

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: You're pregnant, three weeks till your due date, your husband is on tour with his band for a last 'hurrah' before he becomes a stay-at-home dad. One problem. He arrives back at home tomorrow, but your water breaks tonight.

Masterlist

You were making dinner when you felt it, a slight pain in your belly, you turned the stove on to low as you made your way towards the bathroom, you didn't.

Wayne's in the kitchen, getting ready for his night shift, you feel a trickle of liquid rush down your leg. embarrassed you rush back to the kitchen to grab towels.

Then you feel the pain, a soft pain in your lower stomach before a sharp pain travels through your body. You take deep breaths, putting your hands on the counter holding yourself up.

no. nope. not happening.

"Are you alright, Y/n?" Wayne speaks from the living room where he's tying his shoes. you quickly shake your head as the pain leaves after a minute. He moves quickly, coming to your aid.

Wayne was staying with you just in case you needed anything while Eddie was gone. you had a spare bedroom and he was happy to help. "My water might have just broken in the hallway."

Wayne looks, seeing a small puddle of liquid on the hardwood. "You call Eddie, I'll grab your bag, okay?"

You give a soft nod, making your way to the phone, "It's in the nursery."

You punch the numbers of Eddie's phone, before looking to the stove to see the time, it's seven, meaning Eddie is playing his last show for the next few hours.

There's no hope in calling him, he won't have his phone on him, you quickly dial his managers.

ring

ring...

ring...

"Hello?"

"John! It's Y/n, Eddie's wife."

"Hey, hon' what can I do for you?"

"I might be in labor, would really appreciate it if you would notify Eddie."

"Oh! sure thing!"

"Thank you! I'll be at the Hospital in Hawkins, tell him he can reach me there."

"Of course!"

"Alright, thank." You hang the phone back up, just when Wayne comes back down the hallway with your go bag and your shoes. you look at him in appreciation.

"Talk to him?"

"no, I called John, he said he'd relay the message." Wayne nods, heading to the door.

"Ready?"

"Nope."

"Sounds about right." Wayne laughs as he helps your sit and put on your shoes, he grabs your hands, helping you stand up and head out the door.

It's silent for most of the ten minute car drive, there's a total of three contractions on the way there. Wayne just reaches over to squeeze your shoulder.

you walk in the emergency room, a nurse comes quickly with a wheelchair. they find you a birthing room as a nurse starts to ask Wayne questions.

How far along is she?

Is she on any medication?

"Ask me.' Y/n sits up, looking at the nurse.

"Oh! I'm sorry, are you not the father?"

"No!" Both of you shout at the same time.

"I'm-"

"Grandpa, He's the baby' grandpa." The nurse nods, looking over to you.

"Alright, if you can lift your legs on the stirrups, I'll check your dialation." You nod as Wayne comes to your side, he asks you a silent question.

Want me to go? You shake your head, he's the only one here and you'd rather not do it alone.

"Alright, you are six centimeters dilated." Your eyes widen, only four? you need to dilate four more inches?

"How long?"

"It differs from patient to patient, Ma'am."

Another nurse comes into the room, "You have a call, it's transferred to your phone."

Wayne hands you the phone.

"Eddie?"

"Sweetheart?"

"Hey."

"Are you alright?"

"Are you kidding, I'm getting ready to push out your baby and you aren't here."

"right, sorry. I'm about to get onto a flight, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"You better or I will be so pissed at you."

"I know, baby"

"Please hurry."

"I will, I love you, honey."

"I love you too, Eds."

Eddie asks if he can talk to Wayne so you hand the phone to him, just in time for another contraction, Eddie can hear it through the phone, he feels a tear roll down his eye in this empty airport.

That's how your night turns, for three hours, Wayne never leaving your side, telling you to squeeze as hard as you want. You do, you feel bad, but you do. "Alright, Mrs. Munson, you're at nine centimeters."

"Can I push? Please can I push." You can't even hear Wayne's words of encouragement in this moment, you see the doctor shake her head, as she says something, "I change my mind! I don't want to do this! He's supposed to be here!"

There's tears running down your cheek. You had received your Epidural Block two hours ago, you still felt the pain, but right now all you were feeling was the absence of someone who is supposed to be in this room, right now.

“Alright Ma’am, take a deep breath and push for me.” You do as she says, Wayne squeezes your hand. You can finally hear everything around you again, you can also hear the heavy footsteps in the halls.

A doctor hurries in followed by a frantic looking Eddie, you sigh in relief as he makes his way towards you. He kisses your forehead and takes a hold of your hand.

“Another breath and push.” The doctor speaks again, you do, looking at Eddie as you do, you’re so beyond grateful he got here in time.

“One more.” You have tears running down your cheek as you give it your all, you collapse back onto the bed once you’ve done your best, that’s when you hear it. The soft wailing of a child.

“Congratulations, It’s a girl.” Eddie smiles down at you, brushing stray hairs away from your face as he kisses your head once again.

“You did so well, I’m so proud of you.” The nurse hands you the baby and you hold her on your chest as eddie’ hand grazes her little arms. Wayne is sitting in the chair next to the bed as he also smiles at you.

Eddie and you both make eye contact, you have decided on both a name for a girl and a boy.

Eddie of course said, ‘if it’s a boy we have to name him edward jr.’

‘Eds, there is no Edward sr.’ because no one ever calls him Edward

After a split second, you mutter together, “Melanie.”

-

-

-

[padchai]

primary color gays are my will to live ❤️💙💛

[rogueddie]

Steve, who moves away from Hawkins and buys a farm to settle into a quiet life post Upside Down. He gets a horse too, which he rides to the nearby town when he needs to buy or sell things. It's a nice, quiet life. It'll be perfect once Robin is able to move in with him.

Eddie, who didn't move to Hawkins, has been curious about Steve ever since he first saw him. He finally gets the chance to say hi when he has a near miss with a rattlesnake- Eddie has had a long fascination with snakes and knows what to do.

Steve is very thankful, insists on doing something to say thank you. Eddie suggests they get burgers and get to know each other.

They hit it off immediately, joking and bonding over small town life. Steve invites Eddie to come to his farm the next day and, soon enough, they're meeting up every other day. Sometimes they talk, sometimes Eddie helps Steve with the farm.

On nights, when they're feeling especially romantic, they'll stargaze. Neither one are paying that much attention to the stars.

[asimpforthe80s]

Desperate times

[Blurb?]

:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;

Warnings: fingering, humping, eating pussy, names (baby, darling, mommy, eds), cumming in boxers, aftercare, slightly needy Eddie, nap

It had been about a week since Eddie last saw you. A week without sloppy making out and a week without sex. God, it was a nightmare for him.

So, as soon as you entered that damn trailer door, he grabbed you and hurried you into the bedroom. The look in his eyes was desperate and a deep lust.

He was quick with undressing you, ripping some of your clothes in the process. He pressed sloppy kisses along your jaw and down your chest until he reached what he wanted. You didn't feel it, but you knew he was rock hard inside his tight jeans and boxers.

Quickly ripping off your panties, he immediately started lapping at your cunt. Sticking 2 fingers inside your entrance, he thrusted them inside you until he found that one spongey spot inside you.

You arched your back as he repeatedly massaged your g-spot, working quickly to make you cum.

As he massaged your spot, he sucked on your clit and groped your tits. He seemed desperate to taste your cum on his tongue.

Luckily for him, his fingers and tongue were both incredibly skilled at making you feel pure bliss and ecstasy.

Though, this time was different. White filled your vision as you went into a state of bliss. Eddie worked you through your orgasm as you went into subspace.

After a few minutes, you came back to reality and noticed Eddie desperately humping your thigh. "Sorry, baby.. you've just.. been gone for WAY too long." He groaned between subby moans and whimpers.

He groaned and whimpered as he picked up his speed, looking like he wasn't too far away from cumming. You understood that you had been away for longer than you thought, so you let him.

He was just like that sometimes. Switching from a dom to a sub after you've come for him. You were pretty used to it by now. And it was so hot to see, too.

What did surprise you was what happened when he came. "Mommy." He moaned as he came inside his boxers, collapsing on top of you and panting heavily.

You snuggled close to him as he came down from his high. The two of you had missed each other like hell, even though it had just been a week. So you just held him close and made sure he was comfortable.

"Love you.. so, so much, Eds." You said, kissing his cheek and running your hands through his long, messy curls. "Love you too, baby. I was going nuts. You know that, right? I missed you so damn much."

You nodded. "Yeah, I know, darling.. sorry I didn't tell you I was gonna come home so late." You murmured, smiling down at him as he laid his head against your chest. "It's okay. Sorry if I seemed needy. The week without you was hell."

You chuckled. "Yeah, I get it.."

"You don't think I'm weird because I'm so attached, do you?" He asked nervously, hoping he didn't bother you with how needy and clingy he was at times. "Of course not.. I love that you're like that." You smiled, kissing his forehead gently.

"You do?" He seemed shocked by this. It was nice to know that his clingy nature wasn't something you found off-putting. "You really like how clingy and needy I sometimes am?"

You nodded. "I love how clingy and needy you are.. especially after sex.. it just shows that you love me." You said. "So my clingyness is seen more as affection rather than some annoying thing?" He asked, hopeful that that's how it was interpreted as. "Yeah." You confirmed, brushing a strand of hair out of his face.

The thought genuinely made him happy. He was scared that all his love might have been overbearing on you. "You have no idea how happy that makes me." He looked up at you, a giant smile on his face.

You smiled right back at him. "Now.. mind taking a nap? And no, you're not leaving his bed. You're gonna cuddle with me." You said, knowing he'd ask to cuddle you as you slept. "Yes, ma'am." He said, not fighting you at all this time. He had the energy taken out of him from how hard he pleasured you. But it didn't bother him at all this time. He actually felt oddly content being so tired afterward. And you know he was loving every second of this. Being the big spoon for you is one of his favorite things to do.

After a minute of him gently spooning you and holding your hand, you drifted off to sleep. One of the things Eddie knew how to do best was aftercare. And he knew it.

He was so used to aftercare. The two of you had done it dozens and dozens of times. It was a very natural part of the routine that followed the sex.

Eddie stayed awake the whole time, just to make sure you were okay and that you didn't mind his touch. Plus, this was one of his favorite positions that you two took during aftercare: him as the big spoon. And he'd always loved it.

-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;-:;

[stevethehairington]

Steve loves Eddie's tummy.

It is one of the absolute best parts of Eddie — the softness of his hips, the little pudge of his belly, the squish of his abdomen. It's Steve's favorite place to nuzzle into, to kiss, to touch, to bite.

Most evenings end with the two of them curled together on the couch, watching whatever movie or television show catches their interest that night. They usually start out side by side on the cushions, but over the course of that first hour they slowly but surely shift around so that Steve ends up with his head in Eddie's lap. Eddie's fingers always find a home in Steve's hair, absentmindedly carding through the soft strands.

It's cozy, it's comfortable, and at some point, Steve will sigh softly and turn to bury his face into Eddie's stomach. Whatever's on tv becomes nothing more than background noise as he rubs his cheek against Eddie's tummy, as he nuzzles into the softness, arms loosely wound around Eddie's waist to hold him there. He'll leave a sweet kiss over Eddie's t-shirt, then squish his nose against his belly button and just lie there, face pressed into Eddie's stomach, just breathing.

Just enjoying the closeness.

Eddie will laugh softly and tell Steve that he's missing the movie, and Steve will just shake his head briefly and mumble back that he doesn't care. (It makes Eddie laugh again and squirm a little, because Steve's so close that the movement of his head, of his mouth — it tickles a little.)

But Eddie won't question it again, will just let Steve nuzzle against him and continue to pet his hair until he eventually falls asleep like that.

Steve also loves to shower Eddie's tummy with all the attention when they're in the bedroom (or wherever they make it to before they get too carried away) and are getting hot and heavy.

He loves to press Eddie back into the mattress, bare chested and breathing harder already. Steve will kiss him deeply, once, twice, three times, before he starts his descent. It starts with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, to the scar along his cheek, to the sharp of his jaw. Then Steve will press soft, sweet kisses to the hollow of Eddie's throat, the edge of his collar, one over his heart and another over the scar tissue where his left nipple would be. He'll trail those kisses down Eddie's ribcage, taking his time with it, showing each patch of scarred skin the love and attention it deserves. He'll leave a kiss right above his belly button, will sometimes dip his tongue in if he wants to make Eddie laugh.

And when he finally makes it to the soft pouch of Eddie's tummy, he'll kiss it. Gently, affectionately, tenderly. And then — he'll bare his teeth and he'll bite. Nothing too hard (unless Eddie asks for it), but he'll sink his teeth into the pudge, he'll nibble at the softness, he'll start to suck bruises into the skin until Eddie's squirming below him and straining in his boxers. Sometimes Steve will tease a little more, will kiss the parts of his tummy that are close to the waistband, his nose or cheek brushing over where Eddie wants him to touch the most. Other times he'll show Eddie some mercy, will leave one last kiss to his stomach before turning his attention even lower.

But he never forgets to show Eddie just how sexy he finds his tummy.

The touching isn't always sexual, though. There's something comforting to Steve about just touching for the sake of touch. And Eddie's tummy is one of his favorite places to do just that. He'll take any and every opportunity he gets to get his hands all over the softness of his stomach.

When Eddie's in the kitchen, standing at the stove to cook their breakfast Steve will sleepily trudge up to him and drape himself over his back. He'll tuck his chin over Eddie's shoulder, and he'll curl his arms around Eddie's middle, hugging onto him. Steve's hands will sneak their way beneath the hem of Eddie's shirt (or, his shirt, because Eddie has a habit of stealing Steve's clothes, especially in the mornings), and he'll just press the flat of his whole palm to Eddie's belly. Just to cover the warm skin. Just to touch.

Or whenever they're in a crowded room together — whether it be the bustling kitchen of the Hopper-Byers clan on Thanksgiving, or the middle of the thriving dancefloor of their favorite club in Indy, or squished together in the audience at a show, Steve will always find a way to touch Eddie there.

He'll hold onto Eddie's hips, curling his fingers around the love handles. Using his touch to shift Eddie out of the way when Mike barrels through with the kitchen without warning, hoisting the pie above his head. Staking his claim with his grip and the reassuring thumb he sweeps across the soft skin, dipping beneath the waistband of Eddie's jeans when he's feeling cheeky as a promise for more later. Squeezing gently when the crowd surges and jostles them both to say "hey, it's just me, I'm right here".

Steve just loves Eddie's lil tum, and he'll do anything and everything in his power to show him that. To shower him and his soft stomach with all the love in the world.

[unsolved-duvall]

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 + 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

[lil-freak-dexii]

“Not all men-…”

You’re right, Eddie would never.

[shoujo-wizard]

Bewitched by Yuletide p.2 🍳

[Hallmark movie AU steddie A/B/O ft kitchen witch Steve & former rockstar Eddie, O!Steve/A!Eddie]

[some O!Steve pov & backstory as well as A!Robin backstory too]

🎸p.1

when Steve was 13 he went through his very first heat. when Steve was 13 his alpha father left him in the care of his grandpa for an entire summer that turned into an entire school year that turned into his father signing away his parental rights to Steve to his own parent in Steve's junior year at Hawkins High.

the adults never told him, but Steve deduced it was because he'd begun coming into his Talent. in the days after his first heat, before his father had driven him to Hawkins Indiana he would be completing his chores faster than he'd begun them. he'd know exactly who was about to ring the doorbell without ever looking out the window. Steve remembered the disgust on his father's face when Steve had correctly guessed what Richard Harrington had enjoyed eating most growing up without the topic ever being brought up. so Steve ended up raised by his remaining grandparent.

his omega grandpa Peter Harrington explained to him what was happening. he'd entered his 13th year, and that meant he began to be capable of things others weren't. apparently his grandpa's family, the Frumps, were a proud line of kitchen witches. Steve had evidently inherited the Talent. so as he grew into his Talents, Peter taught him everything he knew. Steve learned recipes & spells at his grandpa's elbow in the beautiful house his alpha grandma, the late Amelia Harrington, had bought just for her mate.

Steve learned how to start the autumn with a perpetual stew that would seemingly have no end till spring using the talents his grandpa helped him develop. his simmer pots only grew more fragrant as years went by. in the spring & summers he learned how to use his Talents in a way tht helped the vegetable garden flourish, even though neither were a green witch. his grandpa had beamed with pride telling him tht he was an even more powerful kitchen witch than his great-grandma Eva. as he got older, he was given more responsibilities in the kitchen. the different holidays became times for his grandpa to test his Talent as he neared high school graduation.

then the summer after he graduated, as he prepared to attend classes at the Roane County Community College, his grandpa Peter had a heart attack in his sleep. as the executor of estate Steve was in charge of too much concerning the death. he buried his grandpa five days later, many people who'd known Peter Harrington came to help Steve celebrate a life well lived, many people brought him casseroles, many people gave their condolences, many people told Steve stories he'd never heard.

Richard Harrington never picked up the phone or answered the voicemail Steve left him. Richard Harrington never responded to the second voicemail Steve left him informing him that Peter Harrington had written him out of his will, that Steve was now the sole inheritor of the entire Harrington fortune his grandma had worked so hard to build, and his grandpa had worked so hard to preserve.

his grandpa Peter taught him many things as a witch. that his Talent was his to manifest, his to explore, his to expand. that his heart was bursting with love, and that wasn't a weakness. he taught him that life continues on, time does not stop, the seasons will always change, and that the dead will never forget the living.

at his grandpa's funeral Steve met someone who told him stories about his grandpa when he was a Home Economics teacher at Hawkins High. Wayne Munson was a gruff alpha who looked stoic, but his manner of speaking was gentle. Steve could see the genuine kindness Wayne radiated, and he was grateful when Wayne came by the house that was now Steve's with ingredients for a sweet corn and cucumber salad. Steve sipped cold water with crushed mint while Wayne cooked. Grandpa Peter's favorite vinyl was playing in the living room, Cass Elliot's 1973 album titled Mama's Big Ones.

time went on, seasons changed, Steve started a weekly tradition of having Wayne over for Sunday dinner. he started classes at the community college, got very invested in a history class about textiles, and in the community college's library he always sat silently at the same table as another student. she was a trans feminine alpha who'd chosen the name Robin, she had moved to Hawkins for community college after graduating from high school a year early. they ended up locked in the libraries gender-neutral bathroom when the door got stuck, it was during finals and the library was open two hours longer. as they waited for the night janitor they bonded about grandparents, about parents that weren't equipped to accept them in their entirety, and Robin even confessed she only found other alpha women attractive.

Afterward they became two halves of a whole. Robin joined Sunday dinners. She spent more time sleeping over at Steve's home than she did at the apartment above her grandparent's bookstore. Robin told him that her family had owned the only bookstore in Hawkins since 1810, making it the oldest bookstore in the state of Indiana. when Steve told her he's a kitchen witch she lit up with questions after a moment of disbelief. Robin eagerly joined him in all the pagan holiday traditions his grandpa had taught him. they agreed their mutual favorite was Yuletide with Samhain as a close second. then when they learned they shared a birthday June 13th became a joint birthday celebration from then on.

when Robin's grandma died in hospice their final year at community college, Steve was the person she leaned on. she moved in with him, unable to enter the apartment without being overcome with paralyzing grief but determined to keep the bookstore going. when her insensitive beta mother came to town for the funeral Steve stood by her, helped her keep her ground against her mother's attempts to take control of the business and building left to Robin in the will. Robin's alpha father ended up being the one to silence Beatrice Buckley nee Smith by laying it out that Robin had legally inherited the building including the store as well as the majority of the contents of the apartment, that Robin might be young, but she had a good head on her shoulders. that they had no right to demand anything of her after how they'd reacted to her transition. George Buckley didn't chase after his wife when she stormed out, he apologized to his daughter for the way he shut down when she came out to them, he watched as his wife drove off back to their hotel, and after asking to rebuild their relationship he confessed he was going to serve Beatrice divorce papers. Robin cried as she hugged her dad, sobbed harder when he told her how beautiful self-love looked on her.

Wayne came by after the funeral, joined the three of them for dinner. he and George shared stories from high school. Wayne told Robin stories about the many times her grandparents had taken one look at him, a kid with two working parents, a kid who'd been charged with caring for his rambunctious rebellious little brother, and they'd given him books for half the price they were worth.

George Buckley moved back to Hawkins following the divorce. back into the apartment he'd grown up in, he worked in the store as assistant manager, he joined their Sunday dinners, and he made efforts to implement the vision Robin had of the bookstore being a safe space.

then one day while Steve was perusing the shelves of the bookstore even though it was his day off from the store. he looked out the store windows at the sound of Wayne's truck pulling up to the bank across the street. when he saw Wayne fall he let out a yell, and while Robin called for an ambulance he was running across the main street to sit with Wayne till the ambulance arrived. at the hospital he listened carefully to everything the doctor said about caring for the concussion Wayne had ended up with. Robin helped him take Wayne home to his tree farm filled with fir trees, the majority being douglas fir.

the day after he'd been home for a full day Wayne called to let Steve know his nephew had come to stay with him. Steve laughed when Wayne relayed the message to make sure he made enough for four for dinner that night.

Steve drove Robin and him to Wayne's after they locked up the bookstore for the night. George had to give their inventory orders a final review so he'd declined to join them. they pulled up, and Steve noticed the shiny red car that was left running with the driver's door open. as he cradled the ancient dutch oven in his hands, Robin turned the car, and shut the door. before they went inside Steve made a come hither motion with his hand at the car thinking how nice it'd be for the nephew's many bags to b unloaded.

upon entering Steve spared not a single glance for the nephew standing to greet them, determined to begin cooking because they'd stayed later at the bookstore than usual. he pulled off his scarf and coat. then pulled the canvas bags of ingredients out of the dutch oven. he heard Robin starting a conversation with Wayne. Steve was unpacking the ingredients when suddenly the smell of cedar and tobacco filled his nose. he looked up from pulling out the bread he'd made to go with the pumpkin soup he had planned, and standing in the doorway was Wayne's nephew.

Steve knew, he knew as soon as his nose had registered cedar and tobacco. Grandpa Peter told him that all witches would have one great love in their lifetime. Steve always assumed his platonic love for Robin was his, but he knew then he'd been wrong.

because as soon as the nephew introduced himself as Eddie Munson, Steve knew that this alpha was the man who would either cherish his heart or break it.

---

@lexirosewrites this is part 2 that i've written special for slick sunday this month. it was a wonderful distraction from, well, Everything TM. I'm thinking i'll keep adding to this every month on slick sunday till i feel this little ficlet series has reached a satifying conclusion. i think i'll even open myself up to creating a tag list for this series, spaces will b limited as my adhd can only handle so many details at once.

@manda-panda-monium @awkwardgravity1

yall get to b the first two of this tag list. write in the replies if you'd like me to tag you when i post part 3 next month. i will let the tag list get to 20 accounts & no more

don't let despair rule your life, going forward we have a lot of work to do, and we need a means to recharge as we fight to maintain our freedoms. idk what the future of fic in this country will b if project 2025 gets to censor queer media by banning ao3, but if it comes to it we can do as the fans before us did: mailing lists, zines, and more now that we have the internet.

[hellfiredemon]

two guys who had a one night stand in the 90s who gotta play nice four years later to support lucas at his first pro match

Read When the Buzzer Sounds by the legendary @steddieasitgoes/ao3 now posting for the @steddiebang2024! This fic is so sweet, had a wonderful time working with Dani on this!!

[oneforthemunny]

friday the thirteenth |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you and eddie go to the drive in. a small blurb that's apart of the oneforthemunny's spooky story series! also eddie edit made possible by @eddiemunsonsmum :)

Friday, October 13th, 1989 

“Hey, make sure you hide those snacks, ok?” Eddie muttered, a ringed hand gripping the wheel, blowing smoke out the open window.

“I don’t think they’ll all fit in the glove box.” You frown, shoving the crinkling wrappers of honey buns and kit-kat under miscellaneous papers, a few lighters that were stored away in there. 

“Just put ‘em under the blanket, sweetheart.” Eddie nodded, flicking the cigarette out the window, arm craning behind him for the blankets you’d thrown in from home. 

“They won’t look?” Your eyes cut to Eddie’s carefully, grabbing the aged quilt from his grasp. 

“No, they’re not gonna search the van, baby.” Eddie grinned. “Just look in. Just make sure it’s covered, alright?” 

Undoing your own seatbelt, spreading the blanket over the snacks, feet tucked under your legs. Eddie tapped on the cracked leather of the steering wheel with excitement, rolling to a stop on the gravel behind the line of cars. “I’m so fuckin’ excited.” He admitted, eyes sparkling through the gloom dullness of the gray Indiana sky. 

“Yeah?” You giggle. His smile was infectious, made your heart warm with an overwhelming sense of adoration. “I can tell.” 

“This was a good idea. Coming early, because look at this line, babe.” Eddie tilted the rearview mirror to look at the piling line of cars behind him. All swarming to the Hawkins Drive-In for the double feature of Halloween and Friday the Thirteenth… on Friday the thirteenth. 

“Good call with that.” Eddie smiled over at you, heat spilling over your cheeks at his praise. Eddie’s hand fell on your thigh lightly, squeezing your thigh playfully.

 “Oh, shit. Look at that guy. Shoulda brought my mask, huh?” Eddie nodded towards the teenagers parked in the back, running around in their Jason and Michael masks. 

“Yeah… maybe don’t park over there, though.” You cut your eyes at the teenagers, screeching and jumping off their tailgates. 

“Why?” Eddie smirked, van rolling in line slowly towards the ticket stand. “You scared? Afraid they’ll get you-” 

“-No-” 

“-Because I get it, babe. It is Friday the thirteenth. It’s a very scary night. I’d be scared too.” Eddie teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re scared, Munson?” 

“Maybe. Maybe ‘m just excited.” Eddie smirked, long lashes batting at you sweetly. The van creeped towards the ticket stand. “I wasn’t gonna park there anyways, but they did take my spot, fuckin’ assholes.” 

“Your spot?” Your brows lifted in amusement. 

“Yeah, good makeout spot.” Eddie smirked at your scoff, stopping in front of the ticket stand. 

Your head rested against the seat rest, Eddie’s curls illuminated in the bright light of the ticket stand. Rings catching in the light when he handed them the money, bracelets peeking out from the leather of his jacket when he took the tickets. He looked so pretty; so content. 

“Can you put it on the station?” Eddie muttered, shifting gears so the van rolled with a low grunt over the gravel. “You wanna be more towards the front?” 

“I’m fine wherever, Ed.” You hum, turning the dial slowly. “You’re the expert, right, baby?” 

A huff of a laugh left his lips, curling in a small smile. “Yeah. Think there’s a spot up here if this jackass in a wagon doesn’t take it- Christ, who’s taking kids to this kind of movie? Fuck that, we’re not going there. I’m not listening to screaming the whole time.” 

“Maybe they’re older kids?” You grin, the comical tune of the pre-movie show tune playing through the speakers. “Or could be big horror fans. You didn’t like scary movies as a kid?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not fun going with your parents.” Eddie rolled his eyes, reversing into a back spot slowly. “Gotta sneak it or it’s not fun.” 

“Like the candy, hm? That’s the thrill of it?” 

“Exactly.” Eddie smirked, jamming the gear to park. 

“Shit, this part is good, baby. Look.” Eddie whispered, lips still pressed to yours, hand sliding from your jaw slowly. 

“I don’t wanna look, just-” You pawed at his jacket collar, pulling him closer, back into your kiss. 

“-Wait, wait, this is the good part. Hold on.” Eddie muttered, eyes zoned in onto the screen, sitting back onto the van’s floor. 

You huffed, pushing up on your forearms to look at the screen, lips numb from the cold air and Eddie, just in time to see Michael Myers take a victim- a brutal slashing that had the entire lot grimacing out loud. 

“Oh, that’s fucking sick.” You cringe, looking at the van’s floor instead of the movie, stomach twisting uncomfortable. 

“Very fuckin’ sick. Wonder how they do that, huh? Like the special effects shit like that.” Eddie grinned, body buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. 

“I don’t know. They better have won whatever award there is for that, because that,” You nodded towards the screen, the dismembered, bloody body lying there. “Is disgusting.” 

“Wait until you see Jason’s victims. Makes Michael look tame.” Eddie grinned, head falling against the pillow, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Can’t believe you’ve never seen these.” 

“No way.” You wrinkle your nose at the screen. “More of a Beetlejuice fan or Elvira. I always liked that movie.”

“Yeah? Me too.” Eddie smirked. “Really liked that one.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, you did.” 

“I like a spooky babe. Can you blame me?” Eddie pulled you close to his side, lips smacking against your cheek. 

“Oh? So you don’t like me, huh?” You glare at him lightly. “Just wasting my time, Munson?” 

“No way.” Eddie shook his head, looking over at you. “You’re a total spooky babe.” 

You roll your eyes, scoffing lightly. “‘M serious.” Eddie squeezes your thigh gently. “You’re doing this with me.” He nodded towards the screen. “Yeah.” You hum, eyes cutting to the screen, grimacing at the chase scene. “Guess I must love you or something to sit through two of these.”

[unclewaynemunson]

Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)

Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.

Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.

Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.

Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.

Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.

But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.

Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.

He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.

“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”

“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.

“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”

And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.

So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.

More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?

Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.

He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.

They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.

While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.

“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.

“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.

Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.

“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”

“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.

“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”

“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”

Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.

“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”

“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”

“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”

“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”

Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.

“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”

He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.

“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”

Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.

“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.

And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?

His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.

“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”

Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”

“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.

“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”

Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...

Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.

He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.

“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.

And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.

[munsonshair]

pic you’d have if eddie was ur boyfriend 😍😍😍

[jonahmagnus]

Hahaha whattt

[lunar-beauty]

1x02 | 2x01