crossposting from my instagram. text and link to original article under the cut.
in response to a tweet from SYSCAbout (shit you should care about) saying "hi just letting you know it's now illegal to protest in Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas. this is not good 0_0" referencing the article linked here.
clarifying because i read the article: it is still legal, but it is no longer safe, specifically to ORGANIZE a protest. the 5th circuit court ruled that if any one attendee of a protest does something illegal (even something arbitrary as throwing stones, as was the cause for the case), the organizer (s) of said protest could face legal and financial ruin. this is still horrific and a threat to the livelihood of so many people, but for the love of god do not stop protesting for one minute. to only protest when it's safe (or legal) is no protest at all. free palestine and hands off iran 🇵🇸🇮🇷.
and frankly, shame on you SYSCAbout, for blatantly fearmongering. how many people are going to read this and assume if they show up to a protest, they will be arrested no matter what? how many people is your wording going to stop from mobilizing? oh but did you get your clicks? did you get your engagement? shame.
continue to mobilize, continue to organize, but do not do it under your personal social media account, legal name, or attached to your visage. if you weren't already (why???), mask up at protests and cover any tattoos/peircings/dyed hair. carry no identification if you are able. if the state governments think the people, the angry, fed up, those fighting for their own right to exist, the people who have been subjected to the conditions for marginalized people in these states, are going to roll over and take it, they are dead wrong. if they think giving those same people nothing to lose is going to stop them, they have another thing coming.
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Something I've noticed recently abt political ads (at least the ones I've gotten) is that the republican side has more ads that focus on the bad stuff the opposing candidates do, meanwhile the democrat's ads usually focus on what they plan on doing once elected
Weird ain't it
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who the fuck even likes stranger things. what is it even about now, sucking Reagan's cock?
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man 😞 new york is so fucking unsafe these days and it feels like it just gets worse and worse everyday … genuinely afraid for my wellbeing and safety. especially since i have to take the train so much. sigh.
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i hate that i had to compile articles and data for my mother to read to prove my point on why the romani people are used as a scapegoat and they're not actually our enemies :/
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I don't care what anyone says, the reason the Wammy kids are like that is because those feckers were watching The Goodies, The Young Ones, and all that shit.
That is the only reason. Those shows were perfection and Gen Z would love them, but thank fuck they did not because somehow they would get WORSE.
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full attention
bff!jake. 1.8k words. suggestive content with a petty, bratty you and a horny jake.
“jake.”
silence.
“jake.”
more silence.
“sim jaeyun!”
“what? what’s with the government naming and shaming?”
“you’ve been on your phone for two hours,” you sigh and turn to him, “if you didn’t want to do movie night, you should’ve just stayed home.”
instead of putting his phone down like you had expected him to do, the man tilts his screen towards you, showing you a picture of a girl in her undergarments. you recognised that face almost immediately, a cheerleader, famous not for her cheers but her track record with the football team.
and the only player she hasn’t been with, being your very own best friend, jake sim. as someone so easily tempted like jake, you’re actually surprised that she left him til last.
“look how hot she is, like come onnnnn. and she wants me,” he shoves his phone closer towards you with a smug grin, making you roll your eyes yet again.
“and the rest of the boys on campus,” you don’t mean to sound so bitter but you are, irritated at your best friend literally drooling at his phone. again. she had been all he could talk about for the past two days, constantly showing you the pictures she supposedly sent only to him and their wild sexting.
you’ve really had enough of hearing about her.
“i know but who cares when she’s this hot. oh shit- she’s actually inviting me over toni-”
you don’t bother waiting for the rest of his sentence and get up for the kitchen, wanting to just get away. why you got up so abruptly or why you’re suddenly feeling so annoyed, you have no idea, but you definitely don’t want to listen to him obsess over her anymore.
to call it jealousy would’ve been pretty much correct, but you’re not going to admit that him, hell no. never.
you met jake on the first day of college, and you two have been inseparable since. whether it was going to classes, getting drunk at parties, or just lounging about on off days, you guys were always together. and it was all fun and platonic until you realised something.
that you actually enjoyed jake’s attention. full attention.
but of course being that attractive and a jock, came with a sea of followers who literally threw themselves at him at every given chance. you can only do so much to keep him to yourself but he seemed much more persistent this time with the cheer chick.
“are you actually mad?” jake’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, his footsteps telling you that he had just entered the kitchen, “i’ll make it up to you, we’ll have movie night every night next week.”
“i’m not mad.”
“doll,” his voice is suddenly low as he closes the gap between your bodies, his hand nonchalantly slipping around your waist to hold you from behind, “you know you’re the prettiest in my eyes right?”
and this is why you’re so delusional, so strung up on this man, so in need of his attention. because he acts this way with you like it’s the most normal thing between friends.
“come on,” his lips are suddenly right up against your ear as he says so, his chest pressing into your back more when you don’t respond. you could feel your breath faltering with how close he is, so close that the smell of his cologne is literally attacking you from every direction possible.
and god was it doing something to you.
you’ve lost count how many times you and jake were this close, often enough getting looks from others because of it. but that never bothered you. the only thing that did bother you about all this was sexually but that was something you dealt with on your own. in your bedroom. in secret.
*ding ding*
and the moment is interrupted by the message notification on his phone, something he was way too eager to fetch from his pocket. it immediately irks you the wrong way, literally egging you on to be petty.
“it’s fine, go,” you say nonchalantly, “i just texted taehyun anyway and we’re gonna hang out tonight instead of tomorrow. all works out.”
“as in, kang taehyun?” the way he immediately looks up from his phone tells you that you’ve just successfully gained his attention. “that smug fucker? why the hell are you talking to him?
this was plain evil. jake despised taehyun, the two having been rivals for the longest of time, and you knew this better than anyone. so for you to supposedly be hanging out with him was definitely more than a shock to jake.
“yeah. i met him at that party last week.”
it was becoming harder to hide your own growing grin, especially with the way jake was now following behind you back to the living room. like a lost puppy, wanting your attention.
“how? you were with me the whole time at that party.”
“well it happened and he seems reaaaally nice. so i’m going over to his tonight.”
the instant change on his face is one you don’t miss, knowing for a fact that your pettiness was reeling him in. low of you but hey, it was working.
so you go even lower to seal the deal.
“i need your help with something actually,” you turn to face him, fluttering your eyes a little like you weren’t currently fucking with his head, “i bought a few things i haven’t tried on yet, will you help me pick one for taehyun?”
without waiting for a response, you pull him towards your room and set him on the bed as you rummage through the cupboard for sexiest thing you could possible find.
and thank the heavens you bought two new lingerie sets last week. lacy ones too.
exactly what jake sim likes.
“so. i have a red set and a black set. should i try it on for you to see?”
“uh- i- i mean if you want to- yeah-”
you take that as the cue to slip your shirt over your head, putting your cute bra on full display, knowing damn well it was affecting him in more places than just his eyes.
hint hint, the forming bulge in his sweatpants.
without hesitation, you take a seat on his lap, your back facing him. jake’s hands are quick to grasp onto your waist, holding you securely on his lap, making you more comfortable like the true friend he was.
“can you help me with my bra?” you make sure to wriggle yourself a little, head slightly turned back to the man who had just visibly gulped. it was so, so evil of you, to play him like this when you knew how horny he was.
he makes a little hum of acknowledgment before his hands get moving but he doesn’t do what he’s asked. instead, the man begins rubbing along your shoulders, sending shivers through your entire body with how cold his fingers were. you could feel him lean forward, his face now slightly buried in your hair, smelling you.
and damn was he making it harder for you to stay sane.
“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”
“i...”
for a moment there, you forget what you were actually trying to do. that you’re in the midst of trying to tempt your own best friend into skipping his pussy appointment. weird? slightly. do you care? no.
“i... i mean i hope taehyun will think so. i wanna impress him tonight.”
“doll,” his voice is even lower than before, his arms now making its way across your bare stomach, hugging you back to him, “you’re too good for him.”
it takes everything in you to not fall apart when jake’s lips meets the sensitivity of your neck out of the blue, leaving behind just one kiss. one single kiss but enough to have you clutching onto the material of your shorts, your breath now heavy in your throat.
it was something you felt whenever jake was around lately. no matter what he did, your mind would go haywire at the simplest things. whether it was bumping your shoulders, rubbing your head or even brushing his fingers through your hair, it all drove you insane.
and that’s not to mention all the random hugging, waist grabbing, cuddling that he already did on the daily.
“anyone would be lucky to have you like this, no need for anything extra.”
“you think so?”
“yeah pretty, i do,” the way that word rolls off his tongue so naturally causes your insides to literally tumble, your entire body now heating up and on overdrive. everything is becoming too much for you. his whispers, his lips, his hands on your bare skin, his erection rubbing against your ass. everything.
you turn your head a little more, your eyes finally meeting his. he was so close that one more movement and you’d be kissing him. there’s a look in his eyes, like his inner thoughts are fighting with each other. to be fair, the man looked miserable and you’re almost certain it’s all because of you.
you notice the way his gaze drops to your lips for a moment before going back up to your eyes. perhaps you were crazy but you swore he leaned in even closer, his breath now on your lips... seemingly about to close the gap. to kiss you.
but he doesn’t.
“i... um. i gotta go,” he says it more so for himself than for you, the man now pushing you to stand up by the waist, “don’t go to kang’s house. i don’t like the idea of you being there with him by yourself.”
jake gets up almost immediately as you do, literally disappearing out of your room before you could even grasp onto the situation. the words “call me” was all he said before you hear the front door slam shut, leaving you alone in your apartment.
humiliation is the only thing that could describe you right now, after being left high and dry like this by jake for another chick.
you sit down for a minute and decide that going out tonight would likely be better than being left alone with your wild thoughts. maybe you’ll even be lucky enough to have someone distract you for the long night ahead.
distract you from your thoughts about your best friend and the obvious fact that you wanted more than just his full attention.
you wanted jake sim.
end. to be continued maybe?
2023 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.
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I've talked about this before but I have a deep dislike of sentiment like this within "leftist" circles, regarding unions. And it's practically always from USamericans, go figure.
(Before anyone interprets this post on bad faith, which is inevitable, I am not against being in a union and I am not telling people not to join a union, it's the most inmediate form of protection workers have and that is, in fact, good)
It's this overbearing insistence on joining unions, treating it like the best (and only) way of achieving workers' liberation, and I think that shows either a bad understanding of what unions are or a bad understanding of how capitalism works. Unions are bargaining bodies for workers, that's it. They aren't revolutionary, and they aren't going to kill your boss. And I want to really hammer in this point. They aren't revolutionary. Precisely because their role is to bargain, and to achieve better conditions within the system of salaried work.
You are never going to "liquidate the ownership class" by getting longer breaks, paid holidays and an excellent health plan. Keep in mind, bargaining with the capitalist is necessary, and that in itself isn't non-revolutionary, not necessarily. But the only purpose of a union is to bargain. I really don't think people get this. A union's only purpose is to bargain, it is to negotiate. Negotiations also necessarily imply compromises and unsatisfactory deals. Unions are not a magic key to not being exploited, and they especially are not the way to liberation.*
I think this is especially prevalent in the US because of two things:
Their labor movement is so fucked that any kind of opposition to capitalism is by default radical. And therefore some people feel it's enough to just tell people to join a union. However, this isn't unique to the US and many places have it much, much worse
Living in the imperial hegemon makes it very easy to ignore any other place outside of their little sphere. People can go years engaging in left-of-DNC circles but without ever leaving their USamerican community, they end up not knowing who James Baldwin is, to give a topical example. This affects the US labor movement by allowing them to ignore other places' struggles, so it's very easy to see anything they do as the horizon of political action. They only need to look to their own country for examples in action, and the truth is that the labor movement in the US has been largely very mild. In the cases when it has not been mild (notable exceptions include the Black Panthers), it's largely forgotten, demonized or revised in bigger circles.
So you get people who call themselves communists just for being unionists. But a communist is someone who identifies the core of exploitation to be the very structure of capitalism and work and attacks it. You are not a communist, however, for believing the core of exploitation is your shit boss who refuses to pay for dental.
And what's funny is that 90% of what people on here claim to be communist and anti-capitalist is just the norm on most of the world. People will hype up the DSA or VoteSocialist2024 as if they're breaking ground, and then you read their programs and they're just socialdemocrats. They are nothing more than reformists, just another manager of capitalism.
My father works for one of the biggest textile manufacturers and distributors in the world, and unionization is the norm, it's a "union job" but it's still shitty and exploitative. There are in fact 3 unions, and they engage in petty electoralism within the workplace, only sometimes actually protecting worker's rights, and that's a country-wide norm. This is what unions end up becoming when they become established, especially with a friendly government in place.
CCOO was a union created in the late fascist dictatorship in Spain, and they were genuinely fighting (with guns!) against the dictatorship. And the moment the dictatorship ended and they became the largest union in the country, they slowly became less and less radical, and more complacent. Last year they signed a labor reform that legalizes highly precarious and inconsistent forms of work contracts. That's not "liquidating the ownership class", that's just social-democracy when it doesn't need to be the opposition anymore
To wrap up, a note on syndicalism, anarcho-syndicalism, etc.
Unions are by their very nature an organization that only operates within one aspect of the life of the working class, the workplace. Sure, it's the main one and the part that defines us as a class, but it isn't the only one. In order to actually "liquidate the ownership class", you have to take power by force, and that will have to involve intervening outside of the workplace. What syndicalists used to claim is that unions can be the base of a socialist society and organize the entire working class to destroy capitalism. However, at that point, you have created a party and called it a union. And not only a party, but a myriad of them, each with their own characteristics and desires. So a multi-party system. I will not get into the viability of multiple parties in socialism in this post, but they are not unions in anything by name.
Footnote under the cut:
*I know I'm repeating myself a lot these days on this topic, but if you live in an imperial core country, there is no way to have prosperity (as the example above puts it) without some of that wealth coming from imperialism. It does not matter if your particular country never had colonies, it does not matter if your country is stereotypically nice (fuck the Nordic countries). And no, the expoliated wealth does not only remain within the capitalist class, there is always at least some circulation of wealth from the capitalist to the workers within any welfare program. If your workplace can afford to have long breaks, that is at least in part because your capitalist is profiting from the exploitation of the third world, and because the entire economies of imperial core countries uses the wealth extracted to support their deficits and to stabilize their currencies.
It's not a hard concept. If you can understand that it's basically impossible to manufacture batteries for renewable energy without exercising violence on places like the Congo, it's not that hard to understand the same is true for most things.
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The thing about Captain America: Civil War is that it's part of a trilogy about one specific man named Steve Rogers. Therefore it is supposed to be about Steve Rogers and primarily from his perspective.
It's the episode right after CATWS, and the story is supposed to directly tie in with the events of CATWS. It's hilarious (= enraging) how people just seem to conveniently overlook that little detail while talking about (or rather, shitting on) Steve's decisions and actions.
When you see him argue against the accords, you're supposed to actually remember that the government was infiltrated in the previous Cap movie and it was only two years ago. And that Steve was right in the middle of the fray.
When you see him trying to save the other supersoldiers, you're supposed to correlate that to him discovering the Winter Soldier and as shown in the last scene of CATWS, finding out everything Hydra did to Bucky.
When Steve says "He's my friend," you're supposed to remember Bucky falling from the train in CATFA, and 2014!Steve saying "even when I had nothing, I had Bucky." And you're supposed to empathise with the scrawny kid from Brooklyn who had no one but James Bucky Barnes in his corner. You're supposed to remember that Bucky would, and did follow this scrawny kid into the jaw of death.
Every single thing he does/says has a background in the previous two movies.
Now you might say "yeah but so does Tony-" yeah and tell me something, is it called "Iron Man: Civil War"? Or "Avengers: Civil War"?
Saying Steve's the bad guy in his own fucking movie is you completely missing the entire point of all three of the movies with him in the title.
Edit: I've noticed that this post is gaining a lot of traction. I'd like to introduce you (if you haven't been to my blog before) to a protest my friends and I are trying to set into motion called #ReleaseStuckyCWScene. The details to the original post are here, and the petition that you can sign to show your support is below. Please consider signing it and reblogging the original posts more.
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Steve refuses to tell the kids his middle name. He’s fights them off after El figures out that middle names are a thing and demands everyone to tell her if they have one. And usually when it comes to El, Steve gives in immediately. But he just knows this information will come back to bite him in the ass. So he refuses.
But then they go to Nancy trying to pry the information out of her, but she reveals that she has no idea what it is - ouch but what a relief. Next up is Robin who also reveals she has no idea, and then she joins in on trying to get it out of him.
With the girls on their side, Steve is slightly terrified, but still unwilling to give up the information. He thinks they’ll let it go… but then they’re showing up at his house suspiciously only for Steve to find out that they’re trying to find his birth certificate. That’s when Eddie gets roped into things.
And the thing about Eddie is that he’s curious of course. What could Steve’s middle name possibly be which is so horrendous he won’t even tell Robin? But he respects the man’s privacy. If he wants to keep it to himself then so be it… But Eddie wants to know.
So he starts developing his own plans - without telling the kids or the girls. He thinks getting Steve drunk or high off his ass is probably a bit too manipulative. But maybe he can gain the guy’s trust.
So he starts coming along, pretending like he’s going to help as the kids dig and dig for the information. Steve is always somehow there, even when the kids start looking through the records at the library because some of them needed a ride. But Eddie sticks with Steve, talking to him about anything other than his name - the kids are convinced that Eddie is doing a great job distracting Steve.
And maybe he is, but he slowly forgets any type of ulterior motives when he’s talking to Steve. It’s a blessing and a curse being in the presence of the man.
But then it happens. Steve casually invites Eddie to hang out sometime, and that’s exactly when Eddie will bring up the middle name thing.
When the day comes, Eddie finds himself thoroughly distracted by Steve’s thigh which is pressing against his while they watch a movie. And there’s a large space next to Steve on the couch, but he chose to sit where his is now. It’s a big deal really.
“I’m gonna grab a Coke, do you want anything?”
Eddie asks for a Coke as well, hoping it serves as something to ground him as he hangs out alone with Steve Something Harrington. That’s the moment he remembers the plan. Shit, he’s supposed to be asking him stuff that casually leads to the reveal of his middle name. Easy.
No it isn’t. How the hell is he going to… Eddie glances at the coffee table in front of them to find… Steve’s wallet. Steve’s wallet containing his driver’s license. Steve’s wallet containing his driver’s license containing his full government name.
Oh this is good. This is really good. How have the kids not managed to think of this yet?
Eddie quickly snatches the wallet, opening it to find the driver’s license in a clear pocket. Okay, time to finally learn what’s been gnawing at his brain for days now, and then he’ll never have to tell Steve about it. Ever.
He squints his eyes and reads the name. Then he rereads it. Then he rereads it again.
Steven Edward Harrington
“Edward?!” Eddie yells, cringing at the fact he’s saying his government name.
Steve races into the room, two Cokes in hand and eyes wide as can be. Eddie doesn’t even have time to hide the wallet or any evidence of what he’s been doing. Well. Shit.
“Of course you were on their side,” Steve sighs, a look of betrayal crosses his face. Eddie’s gut twists.
“No, no. Okay, I’ll admit that I was curious, but I was going to find out and just put that secret away in my brain forever. But is my name really so bad?”
Steve turns a bit red as he admits, “I wasn’t hiding it for that reason.”
“Then what are you hiding it for?”
“Because… because…” He sets the two soda cans down with a thud before blurting out, “I thought you’d be making a bigger deal out of it! I thought the kids would make jokes about me having your name. Or you would tell me something along the lines of ‘You already have my middle name, why not take me last name?’ And I was not prepared to deal with that!” Steve rushes out, a hand runs through his hair before he settles his hands on his hips.
That… definitely wasn’t what Eddie was expecting but he can’t help but flirt, “You’re putting words in my mouth, sweetheart, but I can say them if you’d like.”
Steve sighs and points at him. “Exactly that! It just makes me get feel so…”
Eddie tenses up and quietly questions, “Disgusted?”
“Flustered!” Steve replies instantly.
It takes him a moment to process, but then Eddie is standing up and making his way over to Steve with a smile. “I make Steven Edward Harrington flustered?”
Steve rolls his eyes but the small smile and blush rising to his cheeks give him away. “I’m going to change my name,” Steve states.
“And take my last name?” Eddie teases, and Steve lightly shoves at him.
“Buy me dinner first, Edward.”
“How about a kiss first?” Eddie asks with an obnoxiously large grin. It’s immediately wiped when Steve leans in, and Eddie’s eyes flutter shut.
“I’m not that easy,” Steve whispers so close that his lips brush against Eddie’s before he pulls away. “Come on, let’s finish the movie.”
When Eddie’s feet are able to move again, he finds himself sitting even closer to Steve than before, but this time Steve’s hand curling around his is the most distracting thing besides the thought that Steven Edward Munson has a nice ring to it.
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no labels.
slight nsfw. fem!reader. cursing! mdni. use of ‘my girl’. slightly (if you squint) possessive behavior (hobie calls you his)
hobie doesn’t believe in labels. they’re trite, used by society and the government to define you before you have the chance to. to manipulate you into being something that they want you to be. to make you controllable.
so he doesn’t bring them into his relationships. he’s a rockstar, so he’s had his far share of flings behind the stage. both boys and girls have gotten on their knees for him. even those who have chosen not to apply a gendered term to themselves have, too. but he never cared to call them anything before.
the ‘what are we?’ question has always made him want to keel over. commitment held him down. so he brushed it off, explaining how he didn’t believe in consistency and that he just needed to let off some steam.
he knew that it was a dick move, but he could never find it in himself to care.
and then he met you, and something in his brain switched.
he ignored it the first time he saw you, jumping amongst the crowd at one of his gigs. that draw, the pull that made him want to lean over the edge of the stage and kiss you.
for a few weeks after, you were all that was in his head. it didn’t matter how many cold showers he took, or how loud he blasted his music, or how hard he head banged. you were always there, dancing right behind his eyelids.
because he wanted you to be his, his and his alone. which was off, because this was him we were talking about. hobie brown, who swore off labels years ago.
if you hadn’t shown up to his next gig he would have been fine. maybe this was withdrawal and he could recover.
but there you were again, leaning against the guardrail front and center of the audience.
and he was fucked. so hard that he actually missed a few cues from his band mates. they nearly beat his ass for it after the show, but his drummer told him that a friend of a friend knew you, and he gave him your number.
and it was all history after that.
you never asked ‘what are we?’ you never had to. he assured you constantly, in his own hobie way, that you were loved, protected, and cared for.
hickies on your neck, his battle vest on your shoulders, his rings on your fingers. at some point you got a pretty little ‘h’ pendant to wear on a silver chain and he fucking lost it. seeing the letter of his name sittin pretty right between your breasts did something to him.
he never used the term ‘girlfriend’. that was a little too conformist for him. no, instead, he introduced you as ‘my girl’. to his band, to his fans, to his friends.
and alone, he was the same way. when you were tangled up in his sheets, squealing with each harsh snap of his hips, he grunted mine. when he couldnt make it to the bed after a hard mission, making love to you against the counter, humming your name like a prayer. when he gave you head, or you gave him head, and he was his noisy self whining his praise.
because you were his. and he was yours.
an- there’s more below the cut, but i’m actually pretty uncertain about how i wrote it. i don’t want to delete it, but i’m 50/50 about it so i’ll just hide it.
and with that change came more.
he hated valentine’s day. he hated how capitalistic that shit was, even refusing to turn on the tv just so he didn’t have to see the ads. and you laughed, because it was hobie.
so when the morning of the oh so wretched day came and he pressed a goodbye kiss to your forehead while you were still in bed, you thought it would be a normal day.
and when he knocked at your window with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a bag of your favorite food you were more than surprised.
“had to show my girl some extra lovin.” he murmured against your neck when you let him in.
you hugged him close, mumbling “thank you, but are you high? what have you done to my hobie.”
and he just smirked against your skin. “what can i say, love, you make me forget myself sometimes.”
and hobie, who doesn’t believe in consistency, always kisses you goodbye, no matter who leaves first. one time he missed it and he knocked on the window of your college class. the whole class had snickered when you ran out the room to find him. he met you in a dark alleyway between buildings.
“had to get my goodbye kiss, sweets. can’t be lettin’ my girl feel lonely.”
or how he always, always texts you on long missions. your locations don’t exactly share across dimensions, so he settles for little ‘hey baby, i’m alright. found a place to calm down. all good.’ and you wait for him. and when he comes home he always rocks your world.
because you’re his girl. labels be damned. and he’s your boy.
and he doesn’t need anyone telling him how to love you.
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Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)
summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.
content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.
wc: 3.8k
a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.
You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity.
Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities.
“I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.
You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping.
And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.
The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ.
Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything.
“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.
“Oh, Yu, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”
“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”
“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”
“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”
“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”
“No.”
“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”
“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.
“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke.
“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys.
“Wait. Do you need a condom?”
“W-what?”
“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”
“No!”
“What do you mean no? You can’t–”
“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.
“Condom.”
“I’m leaving.”
“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.
“Love you too.”
You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.
“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you.
“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”
“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”
“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling.
“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’”
“What does that mean?”
“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”
“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.
“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again.
“Now, what do you mean by that?”
“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”
“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand.
“Yuta…”
“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating.
“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him.
“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”
“Not good?”
“I’ve never…y’know.”
“Never what?”
“I’ve never finished, okay?”
“You’ve never cum before?”
“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”
“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.
“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.”
Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair.
After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.
“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”
“Who said that?”
“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother.
“I can help you.”
“How?”
“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him.
“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”
“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”
“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”
“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”
“...Just once?”
“Yeah, only tonight.”
“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord.
Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now. You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.
Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.
“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby. You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.
“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows.
Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt.
“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.
“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation.
“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.
“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.
“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.
He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you.
“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”
“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”
“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else.
“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high.
“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin.
“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.
“See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”
“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need.
You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.
“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist.
“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”
“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water.
“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.
“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own.
“Where’s that condom you were talking about?”
“Purse.”
“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.
“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.
“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening.
Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you.
He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.
“You can move Yuu, want you to.”
That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress.
“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust.
“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”
“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”
“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips.
“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.
“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”
“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two.
He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.
“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.
“...No. Not even a little bit.”
“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”
“What if I want to?”
“Huh?”
“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.
“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”
“Done. You’re the only man I need.”
© PU-RE-LOVE 2023. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE, REUPLOAD, OR CLAIM MY WORKS AS YOUR OWN ON ANY OTHER SITE.
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i literally have no idea what this is, or where it came from but here's a thing:
pairing: steddie | word count: 2,043 | rated: M (will be E in next part)
Eddie Munson was not Steve’s bi awakening, okay? He wasn’t.
He just happened to be standing in the middle of Family Video dressed like his bi awakening (and it didn’t help that he already had an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy).
Steve had come out of the back none the wiser to what he was about to see, glancing up from the tape he was carrying for someone who’d called earlier. His eyes met big, clunky, worn-in cowboy boots, long lean legs (and very nice ass–damn, they’ve got one of those stupid bandanas in their back pocket too) in classic Levis so tight they looked like they were painted on, the back of leather jacket (--hold on), and the back of a head of long, wild-looking, sun-kissed, yet still dark hair.
After his seconds-long oogling, Robin, who was chatting with Bon Jovi’s twin at the counter, glances behind him at Steve.
Bon Jovi tries to turn and look back without taking himself off the counter, but when that insane hair of his gets in the way, he shoves up off the counter and spins on one heel.
“Munson? Where the hell’ve you been?” Steve thanks whatever it is up there that the surprise of seeing Eddie again temporarily suspends his frazzled ‘hothothothothot’ thoughts about his friend enough to respond normally.
“Damn, Stevie, been gone all summer and all I get is a ‘The hell’ve you been’?”
“Of course, asshole, you’ve been gone All. Summer.” Steve says, finally getting to the counter himself and dropping the tape on it. He scoops Eddie up in a tight hug, one long won from their month of recovery post-Vecna.
Everything went fine, Vecna was dead, the upside-down sealed away, but they hadn’t all left unscathed. Specifically Steve and Eddie, both of whom ended their spring break from hell nursing bat wounds, and closer than ever before.
Then, after finally graduating, being hailed a hero for “saving” Max and Dustin from the real killer (thank you, suspicious government people), Eddie was hauled out of Hawkins by his Uncle, the former of whom got just enough time for a quick ‘Gotta go, Wayne wants me helping out at the farm this summer,’ before he was gone.
“I told you I would be, Harrington,” Eddie says once Steve sets him back down on his own two feet.
“So what happened? Where’ve you really been?”
Eddie raises a brow, “At the farm. Like I said.”
“Okay, well, excuse me for thinking it may have been the same 'farm' my parents said my childhood dog was sent off to.”
“You think my Uncle was gonna take me upstate to shoot me dead?”
“Obviously not, dumbass, but what other goddamn reason would you, Eddie Munson, have to be on a farm. Like with cows and stuff?”
“Though the sun did you some favors,” Robin cuts back in.
And isn’t that the truth. Up close now (and letting himself look), Steve could see how Eddie’s normally dark hair and pale complexion were now sun-kissed and so well be-freckled that it sent his stomach for another rollercoaster ride.
“Yeah, Munson, you planning on keeping the blond around?” Steve teases, picking up a strand of sun-lightened hair off Eddie’s shoulder and giving it a short tug.
“I don’t know, I’m not really used to how light…”
Whatever Eddie says after that is completely drowned out by ringing in Steve’s ears because Eddie stretches an arm up to paw at the top of his head and he’s wearing a crop top.
He’s wearing a goddamn crop top under his jacket, some band tee that looks like he’d hacked off himself..and are those abs?? God damn he is so fine. It’s not fucking fair. Who does he think he is running around like Steve’s own personal wet dre–
“Holy shit.”
He couldn’t help it. The words just fell out of his mouth.
“H-holy shit, you’ve got abs, Eddie!”
‘Thank you, Robin.’ Steve thinks at her absently since his brain is completely preoccupied..
“Wha–? Oh! Yeah! Check me out, huh?!” Eddie grins wide, lifting his shirt just a bit more to show off the toned expanse of stomach.
Steve’s mouth goes bone dry.
“And that’s not all,” Eddie says. He drops his shirt and shucks the jacket off his shoulders.
His very well sculpted shoulders.
And arms.
And oh god those hands. Steve could hear the soft scrapes of rough callouses against the leather when Eddie threw the garment onto the counter beside him and his only thought was about how they might feel against his skin..
Still beaming, Eddie flexes one, then both arms, his biceps bunching under more tanned skin. “I got a lot of ‘lifting heavy things and putting them back down again’ in over the summer.” he continues, “I’m probably stronger than you now, Harrington.”
“Ha haha, right..yeah. Robin, can you excuse us for a second?”
Steve doesn’t wait for her response before he grabs Eddie around one of those absolutely delicious biceps and hauls him through the store and out the back door.
He lets a grinning Eddie go as soon as they’re through the back door, taking a couple steps away towards the woods behind their building, and trying to calm down with measured breaths.
When he does turn around, Eddie’s stood away from the door, one hip cocked out and his arms crossed across his chest.
The grin on his face has melted down into a smirk though, and the look in his eyes is less teasing and more cautious.
Steve steps back up close to the other man, and literally starts to circle him like a shark. Scanning his eyes up and down Eddie’s body as he does.
“What’s goin’ on Stevie? Looking for some style tips?” he jokes.
Steve doesn’t answer, and starts his second cycle around his friend.
“You know, maybe get rid of some of those polos?” Eddie sounds just a bit more unsure this time.
Steve’s behind Eddie’s right shoulder when he speaks again. “You think you can barge back in after all this time, looking like that,” Steve comes around to stand in front of Eddie again, “And not expect me to react?”
Eddie grins wickedly again, and steps back at the same time Steve steps forward.
“Expect me to not want to devour you whole?”
“You expect me to want that, big boy?” Eddie says as he’s pressed between Steve and the closed back door.
Steve rears back immediately, “Shit, Eddie, I’m sor–”
“‘Cause I do.” Eddie grabs hold of Steve and spins them around, pressing the younger man back against the door instead. “Ohhh boy, do I want that.”
Steve groans as Eddie slots their hips together, “You really are a big boy, aren’t you sunshine?”
“The things I’m gonna do to you..” Steve growls out, Eddie’s jaw snapping open with his words.
They’re both startled away from the back door when Robin bangs on it, “You’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I drag you back in! It’s Friday and we’re about to get busy!” she yells through the door.
He hears her converse squeak on the tile inside the door as she heads back to the front, then chances a look at Eddie.
He looks as red as Steve feels, from the bit of his face he can see from behind the hair he holds over it.
“Eddie–”
“It’s cool, Harrington,” he wheezes out a dry laugh, glancing over at him, “Better get in for the rush before Robin comes back.
He reaches for the handle again, but is stopped short by a hand on his wrist.
“Listen, Eddie.” Steve says, giving the other man’s arm a soft tug to get him to turn around. “I may have gotten a little…over enthusiastic…”
Eddie’s face scrunches up in a weird way.
“No! Not in a bad way, unless you weren’t as into it as I was–doesn’t matter! Point is, I may have gone a little crazy, but I wasn’t faking it.”
“I don’t think guys can fake it, Steve-o.” Eddie jokes softly, a small smile on his face.
Steve chuckles just as soft, “Shut up man, you know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“I think you do.”
“I dunno Steve," Eddie shrugs sarcastically, "You’re quite an enigma.”
“Okay, fine, here’s it spelled out for you: I am super into you.” Steve puts up a finger to stop whatever it is Eddie was about to say, “Hold on– I am bisexual, have been for a while and would like to try this..with you. If you want.”
“You gotta be more specific on what ‘this’ is, sunshine.” Eddie steps close to him once again.
Steve smirks, walking Eddie backward to the door again with both hands on his waist. Once he’s got him pressed back against the warm metal, he scoops the hair away from Eddie’s ear and holds it out of the way with a hand on the back of his neck.
He leans in, whispering right into Eddie’s ear. “I want to take you apart, Eddie.”
Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and Steve can feel the man’s heart hammering against his own chest.
“I want to suck you down, eat you out, and fuck you into next Tuesday.” He states, nipping on his earlobe for good measure before pulling back.
Steve takes in Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes blown out they’re almost completely black, his chest heaving.
“I’d also like to totally romance you and date the fuck out of you, but…” he shrugs, grinning as Eddie smacks his chest lightly with a laugh of his own.
“I’m serious though, Eddie. I want this.”
Eddie’s smile falls slightly. “You sure about the whole dating thing, Harrington? You know you can’t date me for real..like in public and shit.”
Steve shrugs, “I know, but… I don’t think I’d survive something casual with you, Eddie.”
Eddie lets out a breath like he’d been punched.
He takes back in a deep breath, then pulls Steve flush to him again.
“I think that sounds amend—-”
Eddie’s forehead smashes into Steve’s nose when Robin shoves the door open behind Eddie.
“Damn! I knew the door was a bad idea.” Steve says, his voice coming out nasally from where he’s pinching at the bridge of his nose.
“Time’s up, Dingus, get your fruity butt inside.”
Eddie chuckles after her, leading Steve inside. “You shouldn’t tip your head back, lean forward and let it drain out.”
“Ugh, you sure? I’ll get blood all over me,”
“I’m sure, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bloody noses in my time.”
“Here,” Robin says once they reach the counter.
Steve takes the offered tissues, and soaks up the small trickle of blood.
“You still wanna date me if my nose is crooked?” he asks Eddie, who’s (sadly) shrugging his coat back on.
He pretends to think for a moment. “Sorry Stevie, that’s a dealbreaker. Even if it was my forehead what done it.”
“Ugh you’re such a dweeb, I don’t know what you see in him, Steve.”
“He’s hot, okay? And he’s still hot even after he rejected me just now.” Steve states matter-of-factly while shoving a wad of tissue into the one nostril still bleeding.
“You think I’m hot?”
“Very.”
“No, you’re gross. You guys are both gross.”
“Oh Birdie, you should've heard the things he was saying to me outside; all ‘Ooh Eddie, your muscles are so big and so is your hair and also your di—’”
“OKAY! That’s enough of that!” Steve cuts him off, pushing the still grinning Eddie toward the door, then, a softer: “Yours or mine after I’m off?” once they’re at the door.
“Definitely yours, unless you want Wayne to be privy to our shenanigans.”
“Yeah, that’s a no. Also, shenanigans? Really? You’re a super dweeb.” Steve smirks, pushing his boyfr— frien— Eddie out the front door. “I’m off at four, see you at five?”
Eddie fumbles backward over the curb but manages to catch himself, “It’s a date, Steve.”
He watches Eddie climb up into his van, and follows its path down the road and out of sight with a dreamy sigh.
“You still have tissues in your nose, Dingus.”
part 2/2 here | and on AO3!
definitely inspired by this post from @sparrowtapes
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Trailer park Steve AU part 60
part 1 | part 59 | ao3
cw: reference to canonical minor character death
Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.”
“Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.”
“Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—”
“—I’m not letting you get hurt—!”
“—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”
“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.
(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)
But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof.
He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...
Fuck.
Fuck!
He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.
The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…
Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—
"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"
Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."
They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart.
When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.
In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep.
In the morning it’ll be fine.
In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.
—
In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.
—
part 61
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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"Likewise"
(Steve shows up to Wayne and Eddie's house with all of his belongings on his back and it makes Eddie remember when he was in the same position)
Dedicated to my lovely and wonderful AND awesome friend, Birdie
Read on ao3 here
*
Eddie and Wayne have always been pretty inseparable, since Eddie was 11 and made a trek across Indiana to find him. But after all the Vecna shit happened, after the manhunt and the three week hospital visit, Wayne had been especially clingy. Wayne's version of being clingy is constantly asking Eddie to do mundane things with him, it's intense love and worry and near loss disguised as casual invitations.
Eddie is endeared by it even though he'll play his part: roll his eyes and act annoyed like it's a chore.
This afternoon Wayne had knocked on Eddie's door and asked "Hey Eds wanna come out'n watch the game with me?"
And Eddie flung open the door with a huge sarcastic grin. "Me? A sports ball match TV game? You know I wouldn't miss it for the world, Uncle Wayne!" Wayne scoffed and Eddie grabbed his acoustic guitar so that he could entertain himself while he kept Wayne company in the living room.
Which is where they are now. Eddie is spread across the couch. He's aimlessly moving his fingers around the fretboard until he finds a chord that sounds nice while a sports announcer drones on in the background. Sometimes Eddie will look up to find Wayne in his old recliner watching him instead of the game. Eddie doesn't say anything, just gives him a reassuring smile.
It's raining kind of hard today, which normally would be stressful. Eddie and Wayne would be running around the house with buckets trying to catch water from all the new places the rain was leaking in. But with their shiny new government gifted place, they could sit back and enjoy the weather.
Eddie violently startles when someone knocks on the door. He sets his guitar to the side and Wayne turns the TV volume down. "Who is it?" Eddie calls out while walking towards the door.
"Steve." He hears in response.
When Eddie opens the door he's confronted with a very distraught-looking boyfriend. He looks like he's been crying, he has two dufflebags and a backpack, and he's soaking wet from the rain. Eddie immediately steps back and lets him in.
"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Eddie asks closing the door behind them even though he has a pretty good idea what the bags mean. Steve sniffles and lets his stuff fall to the floor. He startles when he realizes Wayne is in the room too. He's quiet for a few moments, maybe composing himself, Eddie thinks. Always trying to be brave and strong even when he doesn't have to, this one.
"Can I sleep over tonight?" Steve asks like it's taking a lot of effort to do so, even if he's slept over a dozen times already. "My parents... I need a place to stay and Robin's out of town and I felt kinda weird letting any of the kids see me like this" Steve wipes his nose but his sleeve is just as wet and he looks miserable, so Eddie reaches out and wipes Steve's nose with his own sleeve.
"I'm gross, sorry" Steve apologizes.
"Of course you can stay here, Stevie, is that even a question? Let's get you something dry to wear-" Eddie tells him, when he's suddenly and overwhelmingly hit with the dreamy feeling of deja vu. He looks back at Wayne wondering if he's thinking the same thing. Wayne's meets his gaze and his mouth twitches into a half smile.
Eddie grabs Steve's stuff and pulls him into his bedroom. After he sets everything down, he gently runs his hands up under Steve's shirt, until it's all bunched up right under his chin. Eddie pulls the wet fabric over his shoulders and off his arms. Eddie leans forward and plants kisses on each of Steve's perfectly freckled shoulders.
Once Steve is all changed and sat on the foot of the bed, Eddie stands over him and wraps a blanket over his head and shoulders like a little burrito. He looks adorable like this, all cozy.
"You want to talk about what happened, or not yet?" Eddie whispers, to keep the energy in the room gentle and light. Steve shakes his head without thinking and looks up at him for reassurance. Eddie leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "That's okay, Babylove. You know you gave me crazy deja vu walking through that door with your duffle bags in the rain?" Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve's blanketed head.
"When I came to live with Wayne it was raining too. I always thought rain was a bad omen, you know? But then in english class one year, we talked about how in literature, rain is like symbolic of change and new beginnings. And I thought, 'yeah actually that makes a lot of sense'." Eddie speaks quietly while Steve looks up at him, listening. "Do you want to hear the story of how I met Wayne?"
------------------
1977
When Eddie steps out of the school building he sees that the cloudy sky has gotten darker since recess. That's a bad omen, he thinks to himself, but hears it in his dad's southern drawl.
He makes his way towards the front school gates, twisting his backpack strings together, a nervous habit. A swarm of children, mostly younger than him, begin to unlock their bikes from where they're chained and wheel them towards the street. Eddie pushes his way through the crowd to do the same.
He feels kind of sick grabbing the handlebars of a bike he knows full well shouldn't belong to him. He should have known that when he asked his dad for a bike it would have been stolen from some other poor kid. He feels terrible thinking about the night his dad brought it home and put a sticker over where another kid's name was carved into the paint. He shakes his head and rides over to the tree where he promised to meet his best friend, Daniel.
Daniel's already there waiting for him, talking loudly to some kid from the other sixth-grade class.
"See you Monday!" Daniel yells out as the kid hops on his bike and takes off down the street. Daniel has a smile on his face, always has been better at making friends than Eddie. He's a sweet kid, but kind of naïve.
"Hey," Eddie mutters propping his bike against the tree. Daniel turns towards him and his eyes immediately catch on Eddies forehead.
"I still can't get used to you without hair. It's weird." Daniel says petting Eddie's buzzed head. "I kinda think it looked better before."
"Yeah yeah, I already told you my dad made me." Eddie swats his hand away. "Did you ask your brother? About driving me to Hawkins?"
"Oh yeah... he said it's too far. Sorry." Daniel barely looks regretful. Eddie's heart drops.
"What?! But did you tell him I could give him money and weed?" Eddie's starting to panic. If Daniel's older brother Paul, who just got his license wouldn't drive him to Hawkins, he was gonna have to think of a new plan, and fast.
"Oh no I forgot that part, oops. Well he's picking me up in 10 minutes, just ask him yourself." Daniel complains, and Eddie doesn't blame him for not taking it seriously. Daniel doesn't understand the urgency of the situation, Eddie hasn't really told anyone why he needs to get to Hawkins so badly.
Eventually Paul pulls up in front of them, hitting the curb a little which just screams new driver and Eddie grimaces. Beggars can't be choosers, he supposes. He follows Daniel to the car. The kid gracelessly plops into the passenger seat and Eddie leans down to talk to his brother through the open door.
Paul has long blonde hair that makes Eddie miss his own hair desperately and a scar on his lip that he apparently got while skiing one winter. As always, he looks handsome, Eddie admits to himself and tries not to blush. He shakes the thought.
------------------
"Was he more handsome than me?" Steve interrupts Eddie recounting the story. He's pouting.
"Steve," Eddie exhales exasperatedly, "Not even close. Let me finish the story though."
------------------
"Hi Paul."
"Hey kid."
Eddie's face twists up, doesn't want Paul to think of him like a kid.
"Look Paul, I really need your help. I need to see my uncle and I would really be grateful if you could drive me." And before Paul can object Eddie adds, "I have money and weed that I can give you in exchange."
Paul clearly considers this. "How much?"
"How much weed? Uh I dunno a baggie?" Eddie puts his fingers up to demonstrate how much weed he remembers there being in the bag.
"No no, how much money?" Paul chuckles fondly. Meanwhile Daniel is ping ponging his head back and forth between his brother and Eddie.
"I have like forty bucks. I know it's not a ton, and it's a far drive, but this is really important." Eddie pleads. Paul stares out the windshield for a few moments.
"And you wanted to go tonight?" He asks Eddie who nods fervently. "When would you need a ride back?"
And Eddie looks at Daniel who seems bored by the whole ordeal, who is picking at the netting on his backpack. Eddie knows that if this plan works out, he won't be coming back at all. But Daniel's been good to him and Eddie hates disappointing people, so he does what his father taught him to do: he lies.
"I'm sure my uncle will drive me back, s'all good." And Paul nods his head.
"Okay kid. Let me drop Daniel home and I'll come pick you up from your place." And Eddie's heart skyrockets. Okay shit, he's actually doing this.
"Thank you! Thank's Paul. That's cool of you. Thank you." Eddie smiles big, shows all his teeth even though he's still missing a few. Paul nods and Daniel reaches forward to close the door when Eddie realizes this might be the last time he sees his best friend.
"Wait!" Eddie interrupts and grabs the door.
Paul and Daniel look at him worriedly. "Can- can I have a hug before you go?" Eddie asks Daniel shakily. He feels his throat tighten and his eyes go a little blurry. Fuck! He's always so emotional, despite Al's best efforts to chastise the sensitivity out of him.
"I guess." Daniel says, weirded out by Eddie's sudden change of tone. He unbuckles his seat belt and holds his arms out. Eddie fiercely tugs him in and realizes that Daniel can probably feel him shaking now. "But I'll see you Monday right?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, tries to will his voice to come out strong. He pulls back giving Daniel a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah man, see you. And see you tonight Paul. Thanks again." And instead of looking Daniel in the eyes again he turns away and grabs "his" bike.
*
Eddie's waiting outside with his bags and a map with directions that he carefully planned out a few nights ago. He's praying to any and all gods that his dad doesn't make it home before Paul get's there. Every time he sees a car turn onto the street he panics and prepares to run.
Despite the bad weather, and Eddie's paranoia, Paul pulls up first and Eddie lets out a huge sigh of relief. Eddie smiles at him and puts his bags in the back seat. The teen looks at him with soft eyes, clearly not as gullible as his kid brother. Knows what's really happening.
"Do you have everything?" Paul asks when Eddie sits in the passenger seat and hands over two twenties and a little bag of weed he stole from his dad's dresser. Eddie nods. "Are you absolutely sure?"
Eddie thinks it would be nice to have a brother like Paul. Never got to know him too well, but he seems to care.
"Yeah man, double and triple checked." Eddie looks into the rear view mirror just in time to see his dad's black pickup truck round the corner. He sinks into the seat. "Shit man, go! Drive!"
Paul startles into action and hits the gas. It doesn't seem like Al notices because he pulls into the parking garage speeding recklessly like he always does. When they're a few streets down, Eddie sits up again and opens the map.
"Am I gonna get arrested for kidnapping you?" Paul worries, wide eyed, as he makes his way towards the highway.
"My dad's afraid of cops. I really doubt he'd call em." Eddie responds before briefing Paul on the directions (ironically) to Hawkins' police station, where hopefully someone will know where his uncle Wayne lives.
*
It's a quiet drive. Eddie finds that he's not sure what to talk to a 16 year old about and would rather pay attention to directions. He can tell Paul wants to ask what he's running from, but refrains, which Eddie's thankful for. When they're about ten minutes out from Hawkins, it starts raining.
Eddie feels guilty that Paul will probably have to drive two hours home in the rain. He voices this concern, but Paul, the saint he is, reassures him it's no big deal.
Eventually they pull up to the police station and Eddie hauls his bags out of the back seat before coming back around to the passenger side door. He leaves the map with Paul and the set of hand written directions on how to get home that Eddie made for him.
"Thanks again for everything, Paul. Drive safely."
"Eddie do you want me to wait to make sure you get where you're going?" He asks softly and Eddie doesn't remember a time where anyone spoke to him with such care. He wants to cry for some reason. Wants to take him up on the offer, but doesn't want to inconvenience the teenager more than he already has.
"I'm okay, but thank you." As soon as Eddie slams the car door shut and turns towards the station, he starts to cry. He hears the gravel crunching as Paul pulls out of the parking lot behind him. Maybe this was all a mistake. He takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and steps through the glass door.
"Hello, can I help you?," the woman behind the front desk asks, pushing her glasses down to get a good look at Eddie who is dripping rainwater onto the linoleum floor.
"Yeah. I'm here hoping someone knows where Wayne Munson lives? He's my uncle."
The woman holds up a finger and makes her way to a desk in the back of the station. She clears her throat and starts talking to a man.
Eddie shifts his weight as he tries to make out their muffled conversation. He looks up when a tall man sticks his head out and examines Eddie from across the room. The cop nods at the receptionist and grabs keys from his desk.
"You're looking for Wayne Munson?" The man, "Hopper" his badge reads, says while walking over.
------------------
"That's when you first met Hopper?" Steve interrupts again with a small smile. Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. He nods.
------------------
"Yes sir." He responds to the officer.
Eddie wonders if Al has started looking for him yet. Wonders if Al walked into his room and saw half his belongings gone. Probably not. And even if he did, he'd have no idea where Eddie went. Too uninvolved in Eddie's life to know the names of any of his friends.
"Alright, he lives in the trailer park. Forest Hills. Let me drive you over." Hopper waves his hand and steps into the rain. He opens the passenger seat of his car and ushers Eddie inside.
The thing about this whole situation is that Eddie knows next to nothing about his uncle. Only hears cutting remarks about him from his father once in a blue moon. But it's the kind of cutting remark that might actually mean Wayne's a good person, if it's coming from Al. Eddie only knows he lives in Hawkins, because Al mentioned it once, in passing. "Lives in a little shit hole town no one's ever heard of while I'm out here making it big in the city," he had bragged. But it's not like Al talks enough about Wayne to immediately suspect that this is where Eddie might have ran off to. He's trying to convince himself he's safe now.
*
Eddie is accompanied to Wayne's door by the officer. Hopper knocks aggressively before Eddie can even get it straight in his head what he's gonna say to Wayne. The rain is coming down hard now. He's hugging his canvas duffle bag to his chest, trying to protect his sketchbooks inside from the downpour.
"Wayne Munson? It's Jim Hopper with Hawkins PD. Open up." Hopper announces, knocking again.
And almost immediately after he knocks, the door opens a crack. Eddie sees a man with greying dark brown hair cut close to his head and a patchy beard. Wayne's eyes drop to Eddie almost instantly.
"Can I help you?" Wayne asks. His accent is stronger than Al's, Eddie notices.
"I have a kid here who claims to be your nephew?" Hopper says gruffly, scratching his mustache. Wayne opens the door wider, looking Eddie up and down with wide eyes.
"I'm uh... Al's kid?" Eddie adds quietly. And Wayne's face goes through a variety of emotions before nodding to the officer.
"Thanks Jim, I'll take it from here." Wayne mutters. Eddie watches as the officer tips his head and offers a "stay dry folks," before getting back into his car.
"Come on in, kid," Wayne says opening his door for Eddie to walk past him. Eddie takes in his surroundings. The place is... sad looking. There's hardly any furniture, just a TV and a recliner in front of a coffee table which is covered in empty beer bottles. In the corner of the room there are a handful of boxes, one of which is filled to the brim with different colored mugs. This confuses Eddie a little, but overall Eddie's not getting a good vibe. Probably still better than living with Al though.
He turns back to see Wayne watching him carefully. Eddie clears his throat.
"I'm really sorry to come unannounced like this. I know we don't really know each other, and you don't owe me anything! But I- I didn't know where else to go and I was wondering if maybe it would be okay if I stayed here for a little? I can sleep on the recliner or the floor I don't need much. I just can't- I can't go home." Eddie is shivering now, he's not sure if it's anxiety from the situation or if he's just cold and wet.
Wayne nods his head and reaches his hand out for one of Eddie's bags. "S'alright kid. Let's get you dry." He took Eddie's bags and set them against the wall. He disappears down the hallway leaving Eddie shaking by the door, before reappearing with a towel. Eddie wraps it around himself while Wayne stands and looks around the place, likely, realizing how uninviting it seems to Eddie.
Wayne walks towards the coffee table and starts grabbing empty beer bottles.
"You don't have to clean for me, I don't mind." Eddie says meekly, but Wayne continues on anyways.
"S'alright kid. Why don't you get changed into something dry. Ya have any dry clothes in those bags of yours?" Motioning towards Eddie's belongings with a hand full of bottles. Eddie kneels and unzips one of the bags feeling around for something dry which most of it is. Eddie pulls out a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
"Bathroom?" Eddie asks quietly.
"Down the hall to your left."
*
When Eddie reemerges, the coffee table is clean. And Wayne looks up at him, puts on a smile which seems forced. He must be able to tell by Eddie's face that the smile isn't as reassuring as he was going for. He sighs and scratches the back of his head.
"Should I not have come here?" Eddie asks while stepping out of the hallway and towards the door. He's in desperate need of reassurance, just wants to know if he's safe here or not.
"No! You were right to. I mean Al, is he-" Wayne is searching Eddie's eyes for answers. "Is he hurtin' you?" Wayne crosses his arms but then quickly uncrosses them. Clearly uncomfortable, nervous. And it's making Eddie feel that way too.
"Yeah." Eddie admits into the quiet of the room softened only by the sound of rain pattering against the roof. Wayne exhales and rubs his face.
"Fuckin' bastard." Wayne mutters under his breath. "He's a piece of shit, I'm so sorry kid." Eddie just nods, agreeing. "It's uh... Edward right?" Wayne asks coyly. Eddie wonders when Wayne last talked to Al.
"I go by Eddie," he quickly amends.
"Eddie, alright. It's nice to finally meet you then, Eddie." Wayne roots around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes before thinking better of it and tucking it back into his pocket.
"You can smoke around me, I'm used to it." Eddie shrugs and leans against the wall.
"Yeah well you shouldn't be." Wayne grumbles. He rubs his hands together and claps. "Okay so I only got one bed. I'm gonna wash the sheets and then you can take it tonight. I'll sleep on the recliner there until we figure out somethin' better. That sound okay by you?"
"No! I don't want to take your bed-"
"Just temporarily kid, s'alright. But first let's get you some food. You're as thin as store-bought thread." Wayne grabs a pair of keys off the kitchen counter and jingles them playfully.
"I don't have much around here, so lets go to the diner and then get some groceries on the way back, how's that?" He asks. Eddie nods in agreement.
------------------
"He took me to go get blueberry pancakes. It kinda became a tradition. To get blueberry pancakes any time I had a real bad day." Eddie shares while petting Steve's damp hair.
"What made you leave home that Friday? Before the school year was over?" Steve asks, seemingly distracted from his own problems which is what Eddie was aiming for.
"Al's girlfriend found out I was..." Eddie gestures between the two of them, "you know. She was constantly holding it over my head. Said she was gonna tell him. I didn't want to find out what would happen when she did."
"And he never came looking for you?" Steve furrows his brow. Eddie smooths it over with his thumb.
"I dunno. Maybe he talked to Wayne. But eventually we found out he was sent off to prison for grand theft. He's such a disaster, my god." Eddie sighs and tilts Steve's face up towards him. "Do you want to go get blueberry pancakes, Angel? It's been a day, huh?"
"I'm so sorry to say this, Eds, but I hate blueberry pancakes." Steve shrugs the blanket off his shoulders. Eddie gasps in horror.
"You dare speak ill of my comfort food, Steve Harrington?" Eddie dramatically responds, pushing his forehead against Steve's. Steve smiles and pushes him back.
"I like chocolate chip though." Steve tries to amend. And Eddie nods in understanding.
"Okay princess, let's go get you some chocolate chip pancakes. Can I invite Wayne?" Eddie starts tearing off his pajamas and scrambling around the room for outside clothes.
"Yeah, of course Wayne can come." Steve sighs and lays back on the bed looking much more like himself than he did when he got here.
"'Kay one sec," Eddie pulls on his favorite Judas Priest shirt while he stumbles back out into the living room. "Hey old man?"
Wayne looks up from the TV at Eddie. "Everything alright?" He lowers the volume again, even though it wasn't all that loud to begin with. Wayne always does this, it's like he can't think while something is playing in the background. It's impossible to add commentary when they're watching TV together because he'll either not process what Eddie said or not catch what the TV did.
"Yeah. We were thinking of going to the diner for pancakes, it's been a day. You coming?" Eddie combs his fingers through his hair realizing he probably still has bed head. Wayne looks up at him with shiny eyes.
"I'm proud of you, y'know?" Wayne whispers. This catches Eddie off guard.
"What? For what?" Eddie crosses his arm. Doesn't like when Wayne gets sappy.
"Being a decent kid. Taking care of people the way you do." Wayne gets up and reaches for his keys just like he did in '77. "Real glad you found me when ya did, son."
"Likewise, Uncle Wayne"
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