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#Writer! Eddie Munson
finntheehumaneater · 3 months
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from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao
“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”
hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.
(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)
TW: throwing up
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Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.
He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.
“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.
And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—
Meow!
Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”
The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.
“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.
Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.
Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.
Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he  could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.
Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.
Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)
And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.
He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.
"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”
Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"
Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.
“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"
Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair. 
“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.
She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.
Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer. 
Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.
He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.
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Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.
"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”
Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter. 
She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.
"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe. 
"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.
“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.
He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.
As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.
Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?” 
Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.
"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.
“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”
“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”
“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.
Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on. 
“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”
Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore. 
“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”
Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”
“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”
Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”
“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.
The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”
He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.
The poor thing lived a very hard life. 
“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.
“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”
Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.
Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”
“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”
Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.
“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”
Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.
He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.
“You’re early.”
Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”
“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”
“M’always nice.”
Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.
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Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck. 
Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning. 
There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything. 
“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse 
“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.
“But how much?”
“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”
“That’s a lot.”
“Debatable.”
Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.
“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.
Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.
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(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369
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holy-minseok · 6 months
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We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂
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ahhrenata · 9 months
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Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie hears him. He keeps his eyes closed and just listens- to Steve grumbling to himself when his hair doesn’t sit quite right, who starts to hum and whisper some catchy song. Eddie turns his sleepy gaze onto Steve as he shuffles around their room- watching quietly as he slips on his clothes, his shoes, a simple chain with Eddie’s ring around his neck. A warm, affectionate smile breaks across his face. Before he leaves, Steve glances at what he expects to be a sleeping Eddie, but instead, he’s met with a rasped, ‘Hey.’ Eddie sits himself up, stretches his arm across Steve’s side of the bed, and reaches, fingers wiggling. Steve crosses the room to cradle his face.
Their foreheads press, noses bump, and Steve brushes his fingers across scars and dimples.
He breathes a quiet,
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’
Eddie huffs a tired laugh,
‘You know I never mind.’
Because, yeah.
Every morning Steve tries to stay quiet while he gets ready for work, but Eddie always hears him.
( another one from the poll | WIP )
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morganbritton132 · 2 months
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Eddie, posting this TikTok: Uh, excuse me? Why are some of y’all saying I don’t know Erica Sinclair? That I don’t know Lady Applejack?? I know her!
Eddie: Because-
Eddie: *aggressively holds up picture of the Scoops Troop eating ice cream together a week after Starcourt to the camera*
Eddie: I-
Eddie: *holds up picture of Steve giving Erica a piggyback ride so her shoes didn’t get wet*
Eddie: Married-
Eddie: *holds up picture of Sue Sinclair showing Steve how she braids Erica’s hair*
Eddie: Her-
Eddie: *shows picture of Charles Sinclair, Lucas, and Steve moving Erica’s stuff into her dorm room. Erica and Eddie are in the background with no intention of helping out*
Eddie: Dad!
Eddie: *shows picture of Steve and Erica on the campaign trail. Steve’s got a shirt that says ‘you can’t spell America without Erica. Eddie’s photobombing in the background to give them both bunny ears.*
Eddie: Also, we played D&D together *shows picture of a Hellfire campaign*
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sundaynightlive · 10 months
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Character Development (Steddie)
“If I were you… I would get her back.”
Steve snaps suddenly out of his trance—Eddie’s a pretty boy to look at. Dangerously so. In fact, half of this conversation has gone completely over his head, which is probably why he’s misinterpreted it completely.
“Hold on—pause,” he says, perplexed, “We’re not flirting?” They stop walking in unison, Eddie freezing out of shock, Steve anticipating it. Eddie looks at him, wide eyed, jaw going slack and then taught like he can’t decide which conveys his surprise better.
“I… what?”
“I was just making eyes at you,” Steve says, and then groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God damn it, I’ve really lost my touch.”
“No!” Eddie exclaims quickly, “Ah, no.” He’s flustered. Steve sees the flush in his face—he’s not trying to hide it. “No it’s… it’s working. I just didn’t think… you’re into guys?” Steve shrugs.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
They stand there awkwardly for a moment, and then Eddie bumps his shoulder into Steve’s and they continue walking, easing out of the tension.
“So… how long?”
“How long what?”
“Have you known?” Eddie clarifies, and Steve notices their knuckles are brushing between them. He gazes up at Rob and Nancy, who are blissfully unaware.
“Well… someone came out to me recently so I started looking into it, called my uncle—man, that was an awkward conversation.”
“Your uncle?”
“Oh—he’s gay—has a partner and stuff. They live in California and we visited sometimes when my parents still took me places, you know.” Eddie blinks at him, nodding his head a little bit, but doesn’t look like he’s fully comprehending anything Steve’s saying at all. Steve takes a turn bumping Eddie’s shoulder, thinking maybe it’ll jolt awake some of those gears in his brain.
Their pinkies hook.
“So… what was the conclusion?” Eddie asks, like he doesn’t already know.
“I’ve had nasty thoughts about Harrison Ford way too many times to be straight,” Steve admits cheekily, “He said I’m bi, I guess. It means—“
“I know what it means, Steve.” Steve grins at him, a little sheepish, and Eddie smiles back, something soft and personal. It’s an expression Steve hasn’t seen him make yet, even with all his damn theatrics. To be fair, Steve’s growing quite fond of those theatrics, premature as it might be.
“So, go on,” Steve teases, “What were you saying about me getting back with my ex?
“Hmm, I don’t recall saying anything like that,” Eddie responds.
“Oh really?”
“Really. In fact, that’s a terrible idea. Bad for character development.” Steve laughs then—fully laughs—a sound that must be revolutionary for the Upside Down. No one has ever laughed here, no way.
“Character development?”
“Indeed.”
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bejeweledbaby · 2 months
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obsessed with fics where steve and eddie were each other's first kiss when they were children but they don't connect the dots when they meet again as adults. Neither realize that this eddie is that eddie and this steve is that steve.
let me set the scene:
the older kids are having a small get together at steve's place and they're all sharing their first kiss stories. eddie starts regaling the group with the story of his first kiss with this beautiful boy at summer camp who had gorgeous hazel eyes and the softest hair. steve thinks the story sounds a little too similar to his first kiss. he starts connecting the dots when he realizes the chocolate button doe eyes he used to dream about years ago are the same chocolate button doe eyes he's been dreaming about in recent months. when it's steve's turn to share his first kiss story, he's like, "well, actually you've already heard it." and now eddie's connected the dots and pulls him into the bathroom to kiss about it. and there's some heartfelt love confessions and then they ride off into the sunset together.
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Having the most hilarious little thoughts about Richard Harrington making a deal with demon!Eddie, trading wealth and success in exchange for his firstborn. 
The Harringtons climb the social ladder, Richard’s business thrives. Little Steven is born, grows up … and nothing ever happens, so they sort of put it out of their minds and never tell him about how they sold him off to a creature from the underworld before he was even conceived. 
The day after Steve’s 18th birthday, they return from a business trip to find their son frantically cleaning up the remains of a party. They’re three minutes into a lecture on how there’s soda and chips all over the expensive carpet when Eddie materializes in the middle of the living room, ready to collect his prize. 
Chaos ensues. 
Steve is freaking out. Why is that red-eyed, black-clad weirdo lounging on their couch, chunky boots up on the table as if he owns the place? Why is he looking at him like he’s a particularly tasty piece of meat? Why does the guy only need to snap his fingers and Steve finds himself straddling his lap, one ring-clad hand groping his ass? What the actual fuck is going on? 
The Harringtons are not amused. They have invested so much money into Steve over the years, thinking that Eddie had forgotten all about them, and NOW he shows up? Eddie just shrugs, idly playing with a lock of Steve’s hair. He never specified WHEN he’d come back, did he? What would he have wanted with a baby, anyhow? What is he, a daycare? 
“We thought you wanted to eat him!” blurts Mrs. Harrington, and Eddie just absolutely loses his shit. 
What the fuck is WRONG with those people? They thought he ATE babies? And they were still fine with giving him theirs? Holy fucking shit, humans are disgusting! This is it, deal’s off, he’s taking their wealth and success away again. No, the boy is still coming with him, do they honestly expect him to just up and leave him in this shithole? No fucking way! Oh, and they better never try and summon him again or those incriminating documents will find their way to the tax authorities! 
And that is how Steve finds himself living with a sassy, strangely kind-hearted demon who may or may not own his soul - they’re still trying to figure out the specifics of that. 
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# hype's demon!Eddie fic
Part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6
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stevieschrodinger · 19 days
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Part One
Steve’s bedroom door is open. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, pretty much everyone else wedged in here with him. Rob is on the bed too, leaning against him. Jon and Nance are sitting at the bottom. All the kids are sitting on the floor.
Everyone's quiet. Waiting. Straining to hear.
El and Eddie are next door.
And Steve has no fucking idea what the hell is going on.
The gates are all closed. Hawkins is a mess, but within the first twenty four hours there was a big push to start repairs. The government is probably pouring cash on this to tidy it up, clean it up, cover it up; make sure everyone knows it was an earthquake.
Gas main damaged in the quake leaked; if anyone saw anything weird, they’re already convinced it was a hallucination. So there’s that.
Everyone got out of hospital within hours; the worst off was probably Steve himself. His wounds from the bats, from their first run in with Vecna, still hadn't healed and one of them had been growing steadily more infected. He has fresh injuries from this time around; all of them inflicted by Eddie. Steve has two broken ribs, and he sounds like he's been smoking 100 a day for sixty years from where Eddie nearly choked him out. He needed twelve stitches in the nasty gash he picked up on the back of his head, but luckily no concussion this time. He's covered in scratches and bruises, but the hospital were happy to let him go with antibiotics and firm instructions to rest.
Eddie, surprisingly, has a clean bill of health. He was filthy, and the scars were bad but...otherwise, he didn’t have so much as an open scratch on him. Everything healed up completely. Which makes...no sense. Steve literally saw him die.
But that also means while they were preparing...planning...working to take down Vecna...he had Eddie the whole time. Potentially, that was nearly a week. The shock they had all had, seeing Eddie again. Obviously they hadn’t planned for that, hadn't factored it into their plans, and it completely and utterly fucked everything up.
They were done for. They were all going to die, no question. But something happened. Something changed. Steve was convinced he was about to get choked to death by Eddie, or maybe impaled on that ridiculous sword but...no. Eddie had blinked awake. And then he’d cut Vecna’s head clean off...which, unexpected, but still a win.
Eddie had dropped the sword, stumbling along after everyone else to get out before the gates closed on them.
Since then, Eddie's been silent. Going where he's told, stumbling through the examinations, sitting on the periphery of the group, staring into space. He looked broken, even to Steve, who realistically didn't know Eddie that well. Eddie had the vacant stare of someone who's just been though something traumatic.
When Dustin had tried to hug him, even, Eddie had flinched away.
No one tried to touch him after that, giving up talking to him pretty quickly. Eddie wasn't going to answer. Steve could practically watch Dustin getting more and more distressed over the state of Eddie. Everyone was aware; all they could do was sit and watch it happen.
Once they were out of the hospital they could look after him; try and figure out what the fuck was happening.
Eddie had disappeared pretty much the moment he had opportunity. He’d mumbled something about finding a bathroom, pretty much the first words he;d spoken, and as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly obvious that Eddie wasn't coming back. The hospital was a mess, and they were supposed to wait for Owens.
Obviously the kids weren’t willing to let him out of their sight that fast. Vecna’s done something to him, controlled him somehow, that much is obvious. Just...nobody knows what.
When Owens finally showed, it was done and dusted fast. They confirmed Henry/One was dead. Owens had a lot of other shit to sort out; they were no longer his priority and they knew it. Dustin had been ball of barely contained anxiety the whole time, clearly wanting to track down Eddie but...by some sort of group mutual understanding...no one mentioned Eddie was alive. No one said he'd come back with them.
In the confusion, no one seemed to question it. Owens clearly hadn't bothered to look at the hospital's records, or whatever it was he could do. They left as fast as they could without raising suspicion.
The kids had found Eddie again pretty quickly, more through luck than anything, but finding Eddie sitting on the porch of some random house, nursing a bottle of vodka was...well. Everyone’s got their own coping mechanisms, Steve guesses.
Eddie still hasn’t spoken about what happened, but he was pretty quick to pass out on the spare bed.
El’s got that look on her face when she comes back, like she’s thinking big thoughts.
“Is he okay?” Dustin asks first. Obviously there were concerns. Vecna had Eddie for days, there could be anything in Eddie’s head. What if there’s something...lingering...from Vecna? Could be a risk.
El shakes her head, “he is very sad.”
“Sad about what?” Nancy, this time.
“When Eddie was…” she makes a face, she doesn’t have the words, for a moment, to convey what she wants to say, she puts the fingertips of both hands together, making bars, “Vecna put Eddie’s mind in a cage, he doesn’t remember what his body was doing, I don’t think.”
“So Vecna had him as a kind of puppet? He couldn’t get out of the cage?” Robin clarifies, “that’s good right, he didn’t see himself hurting us?”
El tilts a hand from side to side, “he did not want to leave the cage. Vecna made him…” she purses her lips, “love. He was in love. They had a baby, she grew up, she was going to college.”
“That makes no sense, he was there less than a week?”
“Time is different in dreams.”
“Yeah,” Dustin chimes in, “even if a dream feels long, it actually happens really fast.”
Steve huffs, “right, but he knows now, right, that it wasn’t real? So it doesn’t matter, right?”
“It matters to him,” El tells him so firmly Steve feels like he fucked up, “it was real to him.”
“Steve,” Nancy turns to him, “imagine if you got married, had...I don’t know, six kids and a Winnebago,” Steve winces because, yeah, okay, he might have deserved that, “and you come home after years and years of living that, being happy, only to find out it wasn’t real, how would you feel?”
“It’d be like they died,” Robin says next to him, suddenly gasping and making a pained noise, “oh that’s horrible. Poor Eddie.”
El’s nodding, and everyone else is silent, clearly letting that sink in.
And, yeah, Steve figures...that’s got to be pretty awful.
The kids have gone home, but Nancy, Rob, Jon and Argyle have all stayed. They promised the kids they would watch over Eddie, which wasn’t hard since Eddie’s been asleep pretty much since they got back. Steve doesn’t know if is the most of a bottle of vodka Eddie had downed, or the week he’s had but...he’s still asleep.
They take it in turns to check on him, every half an hour, someone comes up. Just to check.
Steve doesn’t know what woke him, but he needs to piss. Robins passed out next to him, snoring her wheezy little snore. Steve gets up and goes to the bathroom, figures he should check on Eddie.
And Steve finds himself suddenly very awake at the sight of an empty bed and an open window.
They split up, heading for likely places. Nancy, Argyle and Jon pile into Jon’s car, heading for Wayne first and then with a vague plan to work through town on the way back if he’s not there.
Steve and Robin strike out in the opposite direction.
“Lets head for the place the kids found him.”
“You think he would have gone back there?”
Robin shrugs, “why did he go there in the first place?”
“You think it means something to him?” A horrible feeling starting to form in the pit of Steve’s stomach, even as Robin shrugs ‘maybe’ at him.
They can’t see Eddie, but Robin insists they check it out. Steve’s glad Robin has half their brain, because she was dead right. There’s smashed glass on the porch and the door is open; someone has broken in.
Part Three
@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos
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rowanswriting · 3 days
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Calling Eddie 'Daddy' for the 1st time.
#🦋
I honestly think you’d give him a heart attack from how hot he would find that. especially if it’s older!eddie. 🩵
tw: (daddy kink) p in v sex, teasing, basic smut
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It happens when he’s teasing you, giving you only the tip of his cock as you lay before him. Your eyelashes flutter as he teasingly pushes it in again, looking down at you as you whine. “What’s wrong baby? Thought you wanted my cock, isn’t that what I’m giving to you right now?” He asks, mocking the pout that’s on your face as you try your best to not throw a fit. “Daddy, please.” Is all that slips out of your mouth next. Eddie freezes up, as your eyes open in shock, looking up at him nervously. A darkness overtakes his features as he finally pushes all the way into you, you feel like the wind has been knocked out of your lungs as he quickly builds up a pace that’s rough and relentless. “What did you just call me babydoll? Say it, wanna hear you say it.” He demands, lifting your legs up so they’re over his shoulders, his cock hitting deeper than ever. Your face flushes but you can’t control your mouth, “Daddy, please daddy!” You scream out, as you’re being fucked so hard it’s slowly scooting you up the bed. He laughs, reaching his hand down to hold your jaw, making you keep your eyes on him. “That’s right, I’m your daddy, fuck baby. That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”
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lazylittledragon · 2 years
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pt 3 of steddie dads twitter doodles because this is my thing now apparently
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itshelia · 4 months
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Me when I see another fic series that I've been following for decades isn't posting anymore, and won't probably post ever again: (it got canceled)
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arelliann · 2 months
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Pre-season 4 steddie just consumes my whole heart like nothing else because like, what if we fell in love, but not because we were forced together by horrifying forces beyond our control, but instead just because we put in the effort to learn to trust and love and understand one another despite outward appearances and personal biases
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elliewlums · 2 years
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𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝐞.𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧]
content warnings: smut (p in v) 16+, somnophilia (previously established consent), breeding kink, praise kink, eddie videos whilst he fucks u
this is v short and not very good but i had a lot of fun writing it so shhh (likes n reblogs are appreciated as always!!)
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you come to slowly, groggily, eyes peeling open and a startled gasp pushing past your lips as you feel eddie’s weight crushing you down into the mattress.
“daddy…” you whimper, “wha-“
“there she is”, he coos. “shh, shh,” the ghost of his breath against your ear sends goosebumps racing down your arms and a scorching ache to your pussy; and when the flash of his phone camera hits you straight in the face, you moan wantonly. he’s recording as your pussy swallows him whole, puffy lips swollen and raw from you don’t know how much abuse before you woke up.
you’re borderline delirious, half asleep and lacking any sort of volume control in your current state. he groans as your cunt flutters around him, ditching the video and pushing three thick fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet.
“gonna jerk off to that tomorrow, baby.”
his heavy sack slaps against your clit with every rut of his hips into your cunt and you reach back blindly, grappling for purchase that eddie cruelly denies you; he pins your hands above you and pulls his cock from your cunt, fat tip kissing your drooly hole until you’re crying and trying to push back against him.
“daddy, please.” you gurgle around his fingers, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth as he stretches you meanly.
“‘s okay, princess. hold still, daddy’s almost done.”
you whine and sob into the pillow below you as eddie fucks you like a doll, lax and pliant and utterly eager for him to use you.
“so good f’me — fuck, squeezin’ me so tight — fuckin’ tight little cunt sucking me in.” your cunt actually throbs around him as you start to come, body trying to push back against his firm chest.“oh, attagirl, jus’ relax and lay still, sweetheart. let daddy fuck you niiiice ‘nd stupid.”
your eyes are drooping and the pleasure he’s forcing into you is white hot and heavy, pussy clamping down and trapping him in your gummy walls.
“shit, baby. good girl, i’m gonna- gonna fucking come, gonna fill you up. stuff you full ‘til you leak.” his hips falter as he comes and he moans into your neck, pressing sweet kisses to your exposed skin that contrast with his mean pounding into your poor cunt. he comes for a long time, chest to your back almost primally as though he’s breeding you. he’s pushing his cock further into you and then flipping your body and pulling your hips upward to keep you full; the expression on your face — brows knitted and mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape, dozy and already drifting back off to sleep — is to die for.
before you can completely doze back off, he pulls out his phone once more, the flash of his camera blinding as he takes picture after picture of your abused state; come leaking from your sore pussy, arms sprawled above your head and tits on display, kiss bitten and shining with eddie’s spit. he’s already hardening again, cock red and angry.
“so good f’daddy, aren’tcha? just go to sleep, baby.” he murmurs as he balls your panties into his fist and tosses them somewhere into the dark room, kissing your jaw. you grab for him, pressing your face to his sweaty neck and smiling absently. “jus’ need to use you once more, princess. you understand, right?”
“mmph,” you hum, nestled into him comfortably as he slips back into your now wet and loose pussy with ease. “gentle, daddy.”
“sorry, baby.” he kisses the crown of your head. “good girl.”
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steddielations · 6 months
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Flight of Icarus lore dump:
Part 2 | Character List
- Eddie is a barback at the Hideout (rundown bar) where his band plays sometimes. He doesn’t sell drugs until the end. At 18, he moves in permanently with Wayne and starts dealing to help with the bills.
- Lots of people in town call Eddie “Junior” for his likeness to his dad and he hates this. He calls himself Junior condescendingly when he’s doing something that lives up to his dad’s criminal reputation.
- Steddie writers, when Wayne is conveniently absent from the trailer, he’s not always at work. He goes to a bar called the Attic on Fridays with guys that Eddie considers nice and upstanding.
- Eddie lives alone in his dad's house, but throughout his life, he’d stay with Wayne when Al disappeared. The first time, Eddie was 8, he fell asleep by the window waiting while he was left for days with little food until Wayne got him. At the start of the book, Eddie’s 18 and has been there alone for months. Wayne checks on him and brings him food. But Eddie is stubbornly independent, since 3rd grade he thought he could take care of himself.
- Eddie likes metal, but also rock, Chicago blues, country and bluegrass bc of his mom. His dad taught him guitar, but he learned to love music through his mom (Elizabeth Munson neé Franklin), who passed when he was 6. He still listens to her records, mostly Muddy Waters. He has memories standing on her feet dancing to that record. It brings him to tears once.
- Eddie’s dad Al is charismatic, Eddie calls it Munson Magic but doesn’t think he has it. “I inherited his hair, his van, and his guitar picks. But nobody’s loving Eddie Munson on sight.” Still, Eddie’s worst fear is being like his dad. Al only shows up to manipulate Eddie into helping him with schemes. Two of which get Eddie held at gunpoint twice and hit in the head with a shotgun. Al screws ppl over and gets their house burned down, with Eddie’s mom’s records.
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I wanna dance with somebody
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22
Prompt: Sports
Rated: T
CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner
Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington
Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!
Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!
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It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.
“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 
“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 
She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 
Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 
Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 
There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 
The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 
“You coming?” 
She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 
“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 
She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 
*
The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 
“Oh hey, can I help you?” 
Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 
“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 
Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 
“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”
He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 
“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 
Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 
“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 
Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 
Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 
“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 
“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 
“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 
Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 
“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 
Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 
“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 
Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 
Legs. 
And an ass. 
Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 
Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 
Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 
It’s Good Housekeeping. 
Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 
Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 
He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.
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Part 2
All my holiday drabbles
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stevieschrodinger · 1 month
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TW for Eddie getting hurt (but he's okay). And Human Trafficking.
Link to part Two
Steve leans against Carol's desk, "here are your messages, I fobbed off the Times interview - they're going to email you their questions instead." He's listening to Carol, but he's watching, frowning.
There's a man in his office.
"Lunch call with the Singapore office is on. Your suite for the gala is back from the dry cleaners, it's in your bathroom."
"Right, the gala," Steve answers absently. It's a corner office, lots of glass, so it's impossible to miss the man in his office. The man who is calmly, right now, looking at the framed photo Steve has of his parents. It's basically a prop, Steve never got on with them, but that is not the point. Some random guy is touching Steve's shit.
"And my nine thirty?"
"Had to move it, don't worry, they were fine about it."
"Right," Carol's leaning over the desk now, watching the man right along with Steve, "I assume that's why you had to cancel my nine thirty."
"Uh hu," she's tapping her nails on the top of the desk, and she's so fucking infuriating, if she wasn't so fucking good at her job Steve would have booted her years ago.
"You're going to make me ask aren't you??
Carol gives him a massive shit eating grin, "ask what, sir?"
"Jesus fucking christ," Steve sighs, "who is that in my office."
"Not sure," Carol shrugs, grinning because she's pleased she's being such a dick, "security brought him up," she leans over the desk, whispering like she's imparting a secret, "pretty sure they said something that sounded like FBI."
And then she sits down, tapping at her computer and painting her nails or doing whatever it is she does all day. Harassing mail boys, probably. God she's like a fucking shark, but that what Steve gets, he wanted a competent secretary, what he got was a fucking guard dog.
Steve's not complaining. He'd been weary of hiring a female Alpha and then shoving her behind a desk, but it turns out Carol is terrifyingly efficient and fucking fearless, so it's kind of a win win.
Steve stares at the man in his office for a second longer, trying to figure out what the fuck he's done. he wonders if he's somehow accidentally committed major tax fraud, or something. He's pretty sure he hasn't, but the panic spiral is sitting there, looking inviting, anyway.
Steve goes into his office, and the man turns. He's tall, well built, kind of portly with age, maybe, but Steve still wouldn't fuck with the guy. He's not wearing blockers of any sort, so Steve's office now smells of strange, uninvited, Alpha. Great.
"Jim Hopper," he says, extending his hand, "FBI."
"Steve Harrington," Steve replies, even though he's certain it's pointless, this guy knows exactly who he is.
The guy is already producing paperwork as Steve takes his seat on the other side of his desk, "standard non disclosure, Mr. Harrington."
Steve gives it a once over, he's signed enough of these, and been involved with the legal team enough, that he feels confident enough. He signs it, knowing he won't get any answers until he does.
"I'll get right to it, time is tight. I've been working to dismantle an Omega trade ring for nearly eighteen months now. We're almost ready to move, teams are in place, inks drying on the warrants, cells are all picked out."
Steve nods, okay. He knew Omega trade was a thing, a barbaric, highly illegal thing. Human trafficking of the worst form, he gestures for Hopper to continue.
"If we go in now, we will likely get a few of the higher ups, we'll rescue approximately two dozen Omega, it'll be a success." Steve goes to speak, wondering what the fuck this has to do with him, Hopper waves him down, "we've been here before; I've made this mistake once before. If we don't get the people at the top, this thing will grow back in a years time. I want them all."
Steve gets that. His head is spinning a little. He knows things like this go on, you see about it on the news, but it does sound a bit...like a spy movie.
Hopper puts a photograph on Steve's desk, "you know this man?"
And Steve does. They're not what Steve would call friends; more of a good tempered rivalry. And yeah, Steve had Daddy's money, but Tommy had his Daddy's company. They came up at the same time, went after the same deals. Move in the same circles, Steve's known him for years. Steve's disliked him for years, "you're not suggesting Tommy Hagan is...the head of some sort of, human slavery outfit?" Knowing how ruthless Tommy can be, how questionable his methods are...Steve's still struggling to see him as...this.
"I'm not suggesting it. I'm telling you as fact. You've known him a long time, and we have to move fast. The charity gala tonight, you'll both be there."
"Right, sure, but I don't exactly see what I can do about this."
"Hagan moves the...high end product. Very exclusive, very expensive. They keep them at a ranch, just out of state," and that's kind of uncomfortable, because Steve's been to the ranch for a business lunch, so he knows exactly the place Hopper is talking about. And, jesus, Steve had thought at the time Tommy had a lot of Omega staff. A lot of really well behaved Omega staff - at the time, Steve thought Tommy was just being his usual dick self. Just showing off wealth. Fuck, if some of those Omega were actually, like, prisoners- "drop a hint to Hagan, tonight. Tell him you're getting itchy, fancy yourself an Omega. A traditional one, timid. Say whatever you need to say, get yourself an invite out there."
Steve takes a deep breath, nodding. He can do that. He can play that; he might have to wear blockers, his opinion of Tommy is in the gutter on a good day, never-mind this.
"That's all you need?"
Hopper shifts forward in his chair, "look, you're ideal. On the periphery, you've known each other a long time, but not well. He knows exactly the kind of clout you have, your bank balance, you're the perfect person to do this."
It's not hard to find information on Steve Harrington, he's thirty first on the Forbes 100 list, but clearly Hopper, at the very least, has taken notice.
"How do you know I'm not already involved?"
Hopper snorts, "kid. We know. Also, you just asked me that question, and your balls ain't that brassy."
Steve can't deny it, he shrugs, "so, what else?"
"Get an invite. Go there wearing a wire. Meet Tommy, pick an Omega. You'll be trusted; we will fit a listening device. Hagan's wriggled out of this sort of thing before; evidence like that, there'll be no court in the country that won't convict him."
Steve feels awkward. He knows there's a device on him somewhere; Hopper had taken his phone for ten minutes, and brought it back with a different suit jacket for him to wear.
That had been at half five this morning, standing on Steve's back porch. And as he pulls into the ranch, he has the air con on full blast because fucking hell, he's sweaty when he's nervous.
Hopper had made this sound easy; the ranch is pretty safe. Only a couple of armed guards. Plus, he's Steve Harrington; you can't just disappear a guy like Steve.
Hopper had sounded so certain, the cherry of his cigarette bright in the pre dawn mist. He'd even slapped Steve's shoulder, told him he was saving lives. Steve had felt like a fucking super hero for about twenty minutes, until reality and fucking nerves had swamped him.
But here he is, walking up the front steps to the ranch house, Tommy Hagan grinning big, "hope you brought the black card," Tommy jokes as they bro hug.
Because that's not creepy.
Tommy had given Steve a smirk at the Gala last night, was confident he had exactly what Steve was looking for. Knew, for the right price, exactly what would scratch Steve's itch. Not like he was talking about real fucking human beings or anything.
Steve's real glad he went thick on the blockers; he's certain Tommy would be choking on the scent of his disgust by now.
They bring them in during lunch. Steve sitting, eating fucking cornbread and home made slaw and he just can't. He nibbles, feeling sick with nerves. Tommy doesn't even seem to notice. Steve can't help but stare at him, someone he's known most of his life and now...he's been revealed as something vile and subhuman. Steve has to work hard to keep the disgust off his face.
Something that gets even more difficult when the Omega are brought it and lined up, all wearing the same diaphanous nightdresses regardless of gender. Every single one of them could be a contender for the most beautiful thing Steve's ever seen. Every single one of them could be a model, or something.
They're lined up in height order; the last one in, the tallest, a male Omega. He's limping.
He's leaving bloody footprints on the fancy parquet flooring.
Tommy must catch Steve's face, "the unruly ones need to be disciplined, and that one is more...difficult than most. Refuses to learn. And we don't want to damage the product anywhere that'll be visible, obviously."
Steve has to breathe through his nose so he doesn't throw up. All the Omega are wearing blockers; probably because the scent of Omega distress would be so off putting.
Tommy waves a hand, "get him out of here, he's bleeding on the rug," and the Omega winces, as he turns. he's got lots of shiny dark curls. Everything about all the Omega is pristine, perfectly maintained hair, nails, flawless skin. The smear of blood on his ankle is even more stark for it, and Steve can't help but stare as the Omega gamely takes what looks like a very painful, shuffling step away again.
"Him," Steve says before he can stop himself, "I want him."
The Omega turns back, looking at Steve with huge, beautiful brown eyes. He's hopeful and fearful all at once, and it tears Steve up inside. He wants to buy all of them, get all of them out of here, but knows he can't. If he does anything to raise suspicion he could fuck the whole thing.
At least he has Hopper's word that the rest of them will be out of here by the end of today.
Tommy scoffs, "Steve, come on, have a proper look. Don't pick that one. Get a pretty one."
Steve wants to swear at Tommy because they're all fucking pretty, ridiculously so, "no, he'll do."
"Oh," Tommy laughs, "I get it, just gonna' wreck him anyway, right? That's fair, can always get another," and he's laughing again and suddenly Steve is dragged into a very detailed conversation about how to move funds - from where and to where, which Steve does. It's an amount of money that under any other circumstances would make Steve's eyes water - but in the face of a human being in pain, Steve doesn't even blink.
It doesn't feel like Steve takes a breath until he's on the interstate, the Omega curled up on the seat next to him. No possessions, no clothes, no bag.
Nothing.
And that had gutted Steve as much as anything else.
"Look, uh, hey, you have a name?"
"Eddie," the Omega answers quietly.
"Right. Eddie. So. This is...well it's going to sound a bit wild but...I'm kind of here for the FBI. I mean. I don't work for them, or anything, but...I was...asked, I guess, to get evidence. So don't worry about everyone else, they're getting rescued later so. That's. A thing, I guess?"
Eddie's just blinking at him.
"Yea. Yeah, I guess that's a lot to take in. But we can talk about it...later? Do you have family? Like, shit, do you have somewhere to go? I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to actually like...buy, a person. Couldn't leave you there though."
"I've...I've got an uncle. Haven't seen him for years. I don't...know."
"Right, right okay. We can talk to Hopper about it," Steve spots a drive through, "you hungry?"
Eddie turns and sees the McDonald's, "oh fuck me yes," he breathes with such vehemence that Steve laughs, "I haven't left the ranch for two years, and they never let us eat anything like that, it's bad for our skin. Plus, we have to stay thin and pretty."
That kills Steve's laughter stone dead.
Hopper rubs at his forehead, "you were not supposed to buy a human being."
"I know but-" Steve turns, Eddie standing behind him, which on it's own makes Steve wince. Eddie's barefoot on the asphalt, half hidden behind Steve, still wearing nothing but that scrap of white fabric. It's now a little smeared with the fry grease Eddie had shamelessly wiped off his fingers. Steve hands over his phone and the suite jacket.
Hopper waves him off, "you did good."
Hopper does something to the back of Steve's phone, peeling something away from it, before giving it back, "somewhere I can take you kid? Any family?"
"I only have an uncle, but I don't...it's been years, I haven't seen him since I was little."
Hopper rubs is hand over his face, the rasp of stubble loud, before he lights another cigarette, "I'll have to find you a motel somewhere while we figure this out."
"He can stay with me." Steve's volunteering before he can really think it though, "I've got...a lot of space," he trails off. He did just rescue this Omega after all, he's not just going to abandon him to be alone somewhere. Somewhere that might not even be safe for a lone Omega.
Hopper raises an eyebrow at Eddie, Eddie shrugs, "not like I've had any better offers lately."
Hopper snorts, but he hands over a business card, "this is highly unorthodox, but...I don't care. I've got bigger things to worry about. Text me any details the kid can give you on the uncle. I'll be in touch."
And then Hopper just...drives away. It's maybe an hour and a half drive back from here, since Steve had to go out of his way for this clandestine meeting in an abandoned car lot.
"So is there anything you...want? Need?"
Eddie seems to think about it for a second, plucking at his nightshirt, "I mean, I don't have any cash, obviously, and I heard how much money you shelled out- I mean, do you think you can comp me from the FBI? Man, you didn't even get a receipt for me."
Steve starts laughing first, then Eddie joins in.
At Eddie's request they get milkshakes on the way home.
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