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localemofreak · 5 hours

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Honeymoon In Vegas.

(Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

(A/n: there’s no music to this, just a little blurb I thought of because- idk, it sounded rad and dumb and sexy in my head.. anywayyyysss- enjoy. Also I’m sorry if it’s super short- I wasn’t really trying to think of anything for this- 😭)

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Story: it’s just a little- I mean very tiny dorky blurb of a part of your little honeymoon with Eddie in the city of Viva Las Vegas, Nevada.

‼️WARNINGS‼️: use of y/n, heavy mention of smut, sexual references, some fluff, reader and Eddie are in their honeymoon phase, mentions of nudity, Eddie acting like a horny dork, it’s giving black cat reader and golden retriever Eddie, not that much going on since I’m lazy but thought of this, etc. (if I forgot something, please tell me!!)

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It had been about three days since you and Eddie decided to officially tie the knot in Vegas while on a little break during his tour..

And it had also been about three days of you and him being trapped in the fancy hotel suite- that was now completely trashed, that you had been spending your little honeymoon weekend in.

All you two have been doing for the past three days has just been having sex, not even really taking a break to try and go out and do things.

You have been just completely cooped up with Eddie- who’s little horny lovemaking machine didn’t seem to be breaking down anytime soon.

It’s not like you had a true problem against him wanting to fuck nonstop- it’s not like he was bad at all, in fact he was quite the opposite.

It’s just after a few days of nonstop love making, you needed a moment to just take a break- do something else besides lay in that bed with your legs feeling completely numb.

Currently, you had decided to get up from the bed where Eddie was laying down next to you slightly sprawled out, his breathing heavy and his chest heaving up and down after round- whatever you guys were on, you honestly stop keeping track at this point.

You were starting to feel hungry, so you decided to get up finally to grab some breakfast.

Your legs honestly just felt like complete jelly at that moment, and you looked like a complete mess- runny makeup, hair everywhere, hickies that littered the skin of your neck.

You honestly looked completely spent- and at that moment, you felt like it to be honest.

As Eddie laid there collecting himself, you had decided to slowly and carefully try to bring yourself to stand up.

Your legs wobbled a little bit but you managed to keep yourself from falling- and the room spun a little as you tried to get the blood to rush through your legs a little since it had been a second since you actually stood up.

As you glanced around, you noticed how trashed the bedroom of the suite was.

There was empty bottles of alcohol and condom wrappers everywhere- also don’t forget the clothes and just overall trash scattered all over.

You could hear Eddie mumbling a little bit as he laid on the messy looking mattress- which you decided to ignore as you grabbed a robe to wrap around your naked body.

As soon as you got yourself somewhat covered, you decided to slowly shuffle out of the little room and into the living room of the suite- that was also connected to the kitchen.

As you slowly shuffled your way into the living room- you noticed how even more trashy it looked.

It was a complete mess- just beer bottles, wine bottles, vodka bottles, all empty and scattered around the place.

Things were thrown around, couch cushions were on the ground and there was trash everywhere.

You knew before you two had left you both would have a big job on picking this shit up so that you wouldn’t get in trouble for basically destroying the room.

After standing there for a moment, assessing the damage with what your tired eyes could see- you soon shuffled your way over to the kitchen to sit down.

A tired sigh escaped from your lips as you sat down, your hands moving to run over your face as you leaned against your elbows on the table- just trying to get yourself all together.

After sitting there for a moment, just trying to collect your thoughts and relax- you soon heard the sound of feet shuffling against the floor mixed with a tired groan.

Eddie had gotten up obviously, seeing you had gotten up- that automatically meant he had to follow you.

You picked your head up from your hands as you glanced over with tired eyes, seeing Eddie wrapped in nothing but a robe.

His hair was messy and slightly all over the place, and his bangs were slightly stuck to his forehead as he scratched at his head while a yawn escaped from his mouth.

“I see you’re up-” you mumbled out, causing Eddie to nod his head and give a little tired but cheeky smirk while he made his way over to you.

“How’s my sexy little wifeee~” he hummed out with a slight chuckle, his body leaning forward to press his head into the crook of your neck.

As you felt his lips kissing at your neck, you just let out a tired sigh and shook your head, your hands pushing at his half covered tattooed chest since he didn’t really tie the robe around his body fully- it kind of just hung to his body.

“Eddie- please, let’s just take a break for a moment.. I want breakfast-” you got out while Eddie pulled his head out of the crook of your neck, a slight chuckle falling from his lips as he just hummed in response.

“Alright, alright- fine, what do you want?” He said, his hands moving to fix the robe he was wearing a little bit but it still wasn’t covering much.

“I just want food- I don’t care what it is..” you muttered out, obviously just hungry as you gave him a little pout- which he couldn’t help but find adorable.

“Hm, I think sausage sounds nice don’t yah sweetie?” He hummed out, the smirk on his face getting wider as he just decided to be an ass and place his semi hard dick down on the table in front of you.

You could hear the small snicker fall from his lips which caused you to roll your eyes as you tried your best to hide the grin trying to appear on your face.

“Eddie- come onnn..” you whined out, which caused him to quickly put his dick back into his robe as he put his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay- fine, seriously- nowwww what to do you want??” He questioned, this time actually being genuine as he crossed his arms lightly over his chest while leaning back against the counter of the kitchen.

You just sat there for a moment, your eyes glancing to look up at him as he stood there.

You couldn’t help but admire him- even though he looked like a mess right now, he still looked absolutely beautiful.

“…sausage actually does sound nice- the actual thing though..” you mumbled out, which caused Eddie to crack a dumb little smirk.

“Whatever you want my love~” he hummed out while standing up from leaning back against the counter, which caused you to crack a wide grin up at him as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you Eddie-” you said, looking up at him as he smirked down at you before making his way towards the stove to make you breakfast.

“I love you more y/n, my beautiful wife..” he hummed out while your eyes stayed on him- the wide grin on your face as you just admired him.

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(A/n: I’m so sorry if this is short- I just felt like making the tiniest little shit blurb and I made it- also sorry if it’s kinda bad, I’m just very lazy and kinda out of it, but I also hope you liked it 😭)

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cupcakeatsea · 3 days

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911 7x05 thoughts. If you haven’t figured it out SPOILERS.

- alien hand syndrome scene made the whole episode worth it with pure slapstick

- Buck, baby, no. Say less. Brutal learning curve, but you’re reaction made me cringe so hard I thought I’d never be able to look at you again

- Tommy, I get it, but ouch. Ordering a car just for you? “I think you’re adorable”, redeemed it though

- Hen and Karen deserve better than to be heartbreakingly messed around by social services (or whatever the US one is called)

- Eddie… What the fuck, dude? There’s so much more going on with you than Catholic guilt. Bobby defo has your number, and that man will continue to subtly call you out until you stop doing dumb shit you obviously hate

- Buck not using pronouns until he slipped up - oh! Love it. Big sis Maddie addressing it then being all “tell me about hot pilot”. Sweet and reassuring- we never doubted you

- I knew in my heart of hearts that Hen and Karen wouldn’t give up on that girl. I wondered for a second but with bestie Athena backup, I knew they’d make the effort.

- Big brother Denny! You’re such a sweetheart! You’re a tween, kicking off about getting hurt would be so easy but you’re so understanding. Proof of how amazing Hen and Karen are as parents

- Hen and Karen just getting all my love. I adore them, let them help Mara and all be a happy family!

- Also, Hen’s glasses variety this season? So fucking cool

- Buck coming out to Eddie. Subtle, understated, but good. Immediately Eddie was supportive and Buck was honest about stuff that was obviously worrying him and he need a friend for. Who better than someone who also knows Tommy? Even if “Tommy’s gay?!” realisation seemed to short circuit Eddie for a moment

- Parallels with the BuckTommy kiss! No sign of Buddie IMO but a set up for it, I do think

- Buck and Tommy having coffee. It was healing for ME after how bad that date was. Buck being SO honest again - he’s not hiding, he’s all in and proving it

- Tommy, I didn’t want to like you but you’ve wriggled your way into my heart. You’re perfect and sweet and damn flirty at exactly the right moments. Make that man blush

- Buck. Sweetie. Inviting him to your sister’s wedding? Intense and I can’t help but feel like a potential disaster. But end of episode looks like you’ll be screwing up in so many other ways, you probably won’t have time to mess things up with Tommy, silver linings I guess

All in all, a more laid back episode than I thought it would be and definitely more cringy and silly than I expected, but on reflection so much character development. There was a lot of discovery and it was all met with love. “You don’t know me” as a title made me worry, but it made me happy everyone was met with love ❤️

#911 #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #hen wilson #karen wilson #denny wilson #maddie buckley #911 7x05 #911 spoilers

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steviesbicrisis · 9 months

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Okay but I need more of comedic bits with new-to-upside-down-shit Eddie and way-too-comfortable-with-trauma Steve.

Like, imagine them sleeping together, for the first time, in the heat of the moment and then there’s a sound from downstairs and Steve takes half a second to grab a fucking nailed bat seemingly out of nowhere?? And Eddie being like okay that’s it I’m gonna die, I just slept with a serial killer wow

And Steve is like what?? Why would I use this on a human

And Eddie, forgetting for half a second that monsters exist, being like WHAT DO YOU USE THIS ON???

#Steve: I cannot believe you’d think I would use it on you #Eddie: ahahha right I’m so dumb #Steve: unless you break my heart you have nothing to worry about #Eddie: … why is this a turn on for me???#steddie #figuring things about themselves in the most unhinged ways ✨#and that’s how we love them #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve and eddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #sbc writes

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caroandcats · 6 months

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Buddie + ao3 tags || 5x01

#911hiatus2023 #911edit #buddieedit #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #911 fox #911 abc #*mine #buddie ao3 series #eddie in 4x14: btw you get my son if something happens to me #eddie in 5x01: what do you mean it's important to you that i had to see a cardiologist #he's so dumb i love him

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jadewritesficshere · 8 months

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Oblivious

Eddie Munson x Reader

Synopsis: You think of all the times you flirt with Eddie and he doesn't realize.

You couldn't believe it. You wanted to bang your head against a wall. Either Eddie Munson wasn't into you or was a certified idiot. You knew it had taken him three times to graduate, but you never really thought about it as some people don't do well in a classroom setting. You believed that to be the case for Eddie. He could create intricate campaigns for DND as well as explaining chord progessions and why they sounded good. He was insanely smart at things, he just had difficulty focusing sometimes. And yet, you started to feel like you were losing brain cells around him.

You liked Eddie Munson. You thought Eddie would have picked up on the fact since you flirted with him a lot. And yet, he never seemed to notice. It was ridiculous.

You had trailed your hand up his arm. He didn't flinch and just smiled at you. You said he could play a bard as his next character, since he was so charismatic and cute. Eddie had thanked you and said being cute wasnt a requirement, but he was the DM and would be running the campaign.

You had tried leaning in when talking to him. Eddie didn't seem to notice, continuing to talk and move about so often he moved away from you unintentionally. You complimented how he smelled once. He said it was just weed and if you liked it he could give you some (it was absolutely not just weed).

You tried to bat your eyes at him in a flirtatious manner. He asked if you had something in your eye. You tried that seductive lip bite thing you've read about in books. He asked if you were constipated. You had tried the good old yawn and put your arm around them technique. Twice. The first time, Eddie had playfully bit your wrist. The second time, he licked you. You wanted his tongue on you, but not in that way. Of course, both times you went to remove your arm he had grabbed your hand and pulled it closer. But nothing had changed after, it was like it never happened.

So you took to older techniques of flirting. You dropped something so he would pick it up. Eddie just joked that you were clumsy, which annoyed you so much you didn't even flirt further (regardless of how true or untrue the statement was). You made sure your ankles were exposed. He didn't even notice. You weren't sure what you expected with that one. You could try to faint, but weren't sure if Eddie would catch you or not.

You dropped compliments all the time while Eddie brushed them off. You bought him a new ring to wear. He claimed it was metal and would fit right in with the rest. Eddie had put it on then gave you one he wore and said, "Now we're even." You had went home and screamed into a pillow. You also kept his ring on a chain and wore it half the time. Eddie had simply smiled and gave you two thumbs up.

The most recent thing was when you had held your hand up against his. Eddie's hands were slightly bigger than yours. You had mentioned how big they were and hinted at what else was big. Eddie had given you a wink and wiggled his eyebrows. He then went back to explaining the newest campaign. You interlocked his hand with yours and said it fit well. Eddie had simply smiled and said thanks. Thanks!

No. Nope. You were pissed. You hadn't wanted to just flat out say it but enough was enough. You liked Eddie Munson and he was going to hear it once and for all.

You stormed into the Munson trailer without knocking. Eddie looked up from where he was sitting eating chips on the couch. Before he could chastise you for entering you snapped," What the hell is wrong with you?" Eddie's eyes narrowed, "The fuck? You storm into my house and-" "Shut up!"

Eddie's jaw clenches and you glare at him. "No, seriously Eddie, what the hell? I've been flirting with you for months and you don't even react?" Eddie's mouth drops open. He blinks a few times as you continue," I've tried every known thing in the book, but you don't even think twice!"

"You were flirting with me?" Eddie asks quietly. You huff and flop onto the couch next to him," Apparently not well if you couldn't tell." You cross your arms and pout. Eddie clears his throat," I mean I thought you were flirting but...just didn't believe you meant it. Not with me at least." You look at Eddie who is blushing. "Why would I flirt with you if I didn't mean it?" You frown slightly. "Practice? Wouldn't be the first time. Ya know, flirt with the freak." Eddie cleared his throat and your heart sank.

"I uh liked it though," Eddie turns to look at you, "the flirting." You inhale and exhale slowly looking at him. "You just have to be clear. Communicate to me. I overthink things and convince myself I am overanalyzing. That's why I'm a good DM, I think of like every scenario and what could happen. I explained the uh flirting away. Just thought you were being friendly or felt comfortable." Eddie shrugs slightly. "Okay. Then let me be clear. I like you Eddie Munson. Not just as a friend. I want you to be my boyfriend."

Eddie's smile slowly spreads across his face. Eyes lighting up and twinkling with joy," And I like you. And I would love to be your boyfriend." "Good." You nod. Eddie reaches out and interlocks his fingers with yours," Good." You both sit in silence for a moment. "So are you gonna kiss me or-" "yup, yes, yeah absolutely."

#Eddie is based on me but also my friend and maybe yall will also relate #I love him your honor he is so good just needs to be talked to plainly #I can tell when people are flirting and yet when they flirt with me my brain goes “nooooo that's not really whats happening”#And I 100% can see Eddie being the same #Just to clarify: Eddie is absolutely not dumb and can be emotionally intelligent but he just overthinks and explains everything away #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson/you #Eddie Munson/reader #Jade is Talking

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wikiangela · 12 days

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wip wednesday

tagged by @diazsdimples @tizniz @daffi-990 @bidisasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck 💖💖

i wasn't gonna post today but I'm currently writing another one of Buck and Taylor's arguments and I'm having so much fun lol (there's gonna be only one more conversation between them after this haha) I keep having new ideas for the in-between of what I had planned, and I hope all of this turns out coherent, I'm probably gonna have to do so much editing lol I'm so determined to post it this month and I'm actually inspired!

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“I don’t know what to tell you.” he sighs, averting his gaze, as he’s trying to think about anything to say, but his mind is blank.

“How about the truth? I really just want to know what the hell is going on with you. Because this-” she throws her hands out, vaguely gesturing around. “This isn’t a life together, and I don’t know how many more times we can have this exact same conversation.”

“Taylor…” he starts, hoping more words would come. “I’m sor-”

“Is there someone else?” she blurts out, angry tears welling in her eyes. He feels his own eyes widen in surprise, and his cheeks burn.

“What?”

“I mean, are you seeing someone else?” she doubles down, her tone a little shaky, but still determined. Suddenly, he feels his heart in his throat, and he has to make a conscious effort to breathe. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwater-ninja-13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theotherbuckley @buddieswhvre @dangerpronebuddie

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transvampireboyfriend · 1 year

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The obnoxious ringing of their phone fills the trailer and snaps Eddie out of his repetitive strumming.

He's been trying to learn one of his newest favorite songs for, (he looks at the clock; damn, eleven already,) like three hours now.

Eddie gets up from the couch, grumbling about who the fuck is calling them, Wayne left for work some hours ago, but he almost never calls during his shift.

He reaches the phone stuck to one of their kitchen walls and brings the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?" he greets.

"Eddie!" Steve's voice says on the other end of the line, his tone surprised like he didn't expect him to pick up.

Eddie feels a smile tug at his lips.

"Heeeey Steve-o!" Eddie greets him "what can I do for ya this time a' night?"

"Shoot! Right, sorry. Did I wake you?" Steve asks. Eddie snickers.

"Nah, man. It's cool." Eddie tells him, grabbing a forgotten bag of twizzlers off the counter to start chewing on one of the treats.

"I know you have a lot of teenage friends," Eddie adds around the twizzler now in his mouth, "but most young adults go to bed at like- midnight. Even later on a Friday night." he finishes.

Steve scoffs at "young adults" and Eddie can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

He's still a little surprised he can tease Steve Harrington. It took many many movie nights for Eddie to fully join in on that. Though he still hesitates sometimes, he thinks the kids can take it a bit too far.

"Whatever," Steve dismisses, his smile shining even through the phone lines "I just called to tell you Rob's not working tomorrow, so she won't be able to meet for breakfast" Steve's smile sounds like it fades a little in that sentence.

Eddie stops chewing.

They've been having breakfast together every Tuesday and Saturday, the days Steve and Robin work the morning shift together at Family Video.

Sometimes a couple of the kids will join, sometimes Robin's friends will join, or Nancy, even Garrett or Jeff or Freak; they all know they can find Eddie, Robin and Steve on those days at the diner so it's become their unofficial hangout spot, at least before 9am.

And Eddie's had breakfast with just Robbie before, or Nance, or one of his friends, but never with just Steve.

Steve is a bit of an enigma to Eddie.

Over a really short period of time Eddie had found out Steve's a local hero extraordinaire, that he's totally metal and also that he is a little bit dorky and has an absolutely terrible love life.

And if that wasn't surprising enough, it turns out Steve also isn't totally averse to Eddie, and that sure was surprising.

But Steve is a little awkward around Eddie sometimes. Like he's afraid Eddie will judge him or something; which, is preposterous, Eddie's the queer nerd, what would he have to judge Steve for? Especially now that he's technically no longer a jock. Plus, he had a huge role in saving Eddie's life, it's not like Eddie would forget that.

But he still finds Steve staring at him in the middle of movie nights only to avert his eyes when Eddie turns to him, or Steve'll laugh a little too hard at Eddie's observation like he's overcompensating, or Eddie will feel a little self conscious of his greasy tank and coveralls when Steve's eyes widen at the sight (it's not his fault his job's so messy).

So, he never really hangs with just Steve, not because he's made it so, but rather, it's just never happened and Eddie hasn't actively tried to make it happen because, well, it's a little weird.

In fact, Eddie's fairly certain Steve also works Thursday mornings because he's seen him having breakfast at the diner with Dustin or on his own when Eddie goes by on his way to the auto shop.

Eddie does work mornings most days except for Sunday and Monday since those are his free days. It's very rare that Frank calls to tell him he'll need Eddie in the afternoon shift instead, so technically, Eddie could be having breakfast at the diner any day.

Eddie could be having breakfast at the diner with Steve on Thursdays.

Except?

He's not gonna invite himself is he?

It also doesn't help that Eddie has an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy, so he can never tell if Steve's actually being weird or if Eddie's just paying too much attention to him.

He really can't help himself, the guy's everything Eddie finds attractive in a person and on top of that he's fucking gorgeous. It's frankly unfair, if you ask him.

All those years in high school, hating Steve in the worst of cases or ignoring him in the best, had been pretty easy. Partly because of his good looks, mostly because of the company he kept. But now that Steve surrounds himself with his found family? Now that he laughs freely and fails fearlessly and gives so easily? Eddie does not stand a chance.

So really, it's probably for the best that they don't hang out on their own.

Eddie puts down his twizzler, mentally readying himself to start doing meal prep because Steve for sure called to cancel.

"...ssso if you wanna cancel–" Steve says, there's a muffled thump on the other end of the line, but Eddie pays it no mind, tries to play it cool.

"I mean that's–. Whatever you want." he stammers.

God, Eddie thinks, rolling his eyes at himself, he really could not be cooler.

"I um," Steve inhales sharply then "I'm probably still gonna have breakfast there," he says, "I'm not– I'm no good in the kitchen" he laughs casually.

Eddie huffs, reluctantly charmed.

"So if you wanna join" Steve adds hesitantly, "well, you're always welcome"

"ialsohateeatingalone" Steve adds, almost as an afterthought.

See? He's a little weird.

Not that that makes him any less attractive; on the contrary, it's endearing,

"Alright, cool." Eddie chuckles now, "Sounds good. I honestly don't wanna cook myself anything so you're practically doing me a favor." he says, then waits for a bit, in case Steve really needs an out; he picks his twizzler back up to start chewing on it again.

When Steve doesn't take the out, Eddie teases him again,

"Tell ya what, I'll teach you how to cook breakfast sometime" Eddie says around his treat, just to get on Steve's nerves a bit, but also pitifully hoping his offer would ever be accepted.

"I know how to cook breakfast, Eddie," Steve protests.

"You just said you're no good in the kitchen!" Eddie shoots back, enjoying the sound of Steve's answering laugh from the other end of the line.

"Ok fine!" Steve says, his smile back in his voice, "You'll teach me some day, whatever." he concedes.

Eddie's fairly certain his eyes could not get bigger and his cheeks could not get redder.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Steve asks.

Heart hammering in his chest, Eddie nods.

Steve can't see him.

"Mmhm." Eddie hurries to amend, "See you tomorrow, Stevie," he says.

Eddie feels butterflies fluttering in his stomach with Steve's parting 'see you' before the line goes dead.

#steddie #steddie headcanon #steddie fanfic #im kinda sad that i haven't shared any headcanons or anything about them in a while so here #have a bit from one of my wips #stranger things #Eddie is so oblivious here i love him so much. my dumb lil meow meow #also the thump when Steve asks if Eds wants to cancel is him banging his head against the wall for losing his courage #bc the plan was to just straight up invite Eddie or even act as if Eddie would for sure come even if it was just the two of them #Steve is also oblivious<3 #this is the breakfast date option of that one poll if you remember #.

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kitausuret · 1 year

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the world does not need another silly one shot from me about the Venom Symbiote's time in captivity with the Fantastic Four but if I'm going to fixate on one page in one comic by god I'm going to do something with that

I just think it would be sweet if in Reed Richards' desperate attempts to communicate with the Symbiote he tried to like, teach it Morse code, and he asks it, "do you have a name? is there something you were called, some designation you were given? something unique to you?"

And the symbiote taps back after a long moment the closest thing to a human translation of the only thing it can think might fit what Reed is referring to: "DEATH"

And Reed is all at once filled with a kind of overwhelming sadness, because what kind of life has this alien lived that it was called only "Death" by those it encountered? What kind of symbiosis had it experienced, if any at all?

But then he manages to collect himself, and he tells his guest that well, we'll just have to come up with a better designation than that, won't we? He probably tells it about how Sue, his own partner, is the one who gave him the name the world knows him by, "Mister Fantastic", and that he hopes the symbiote, too, can find a name it can be proud of.

Everyone needs a name, after all.

#headcanons #i guess #i got a really vague ask recently so I'm thinking about using it as an excuse to write this #i feel weird writing F4 stuff for this era since i have not read it at ALL but #i love Reed so much... 🥺#venom #reed richards #fantastic four #alien costume era #super self indulgent tag addition:#years later Reed finally gets to follow up with it properly (it's probably like #bonded to both Eddie and Flash it's fine whatever they are just a trio now)#and it preens a little as it informs Reed that it likes the name 'Venom' that it originally took with Eddie even for itself #Franklin from across the room: 'that's SO EDGY oh my god dude'#Flash: 'it's a great name!'#Johnny who is there for unknown reasons: 'no it's edgy; i just didn't want to tell you when we met how dumb i thought it was'#Eddie is just amused by the whole situation and thinks it's funny to watch Flash argue

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tommykinards · 6 months

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wip wednesday ✨

hii 🫶🏼 hoa eddie is giving me fits but i simply don't care, that bitch is going to suffer from the shenanigans he's caused one way or another, so please enjoy him being a goofy goober

He lays his chin on Buck’s shoulder, stuffs his face against Buck’s neck and breathes deep. He shuts his eyes and smiles. “Did you use my shampoo?” “Your soap, too.” Eddie laughs. “It smells nice on you,” he says, inhaling deeply one more time before opening his eyes and staring down at the catastrophe in the skillet. “Buck, I think you burned that piece of bacon.” “S’fine,” Buck says, jerky and stunted, and stabs the overcooked piece of bacon a couple times before he gets enough leverage to pull it out of the grease. It’s charred and dark next to the other pieces on the paper towel. “I’ll still eat it.” Humming, Eddie nuzzles his face across Buck’s shoulder. “Are we just having bacon?” “There’s still some of that pudding cake leftover in the refrigerator.” “Bacon and cake for breakfast?” Eddie pinches Buck’s side, eliciting a small giggle that has the stiffness in his shoulders dissipating. Whatever it is that’s weighing on Buck is still heavy, then, but not so big that Eddie can’t take it every once in a while. He doesn’t mind being Buck’s rock whenever he needs to. “Yum.” “And coffee.” Buck flicks Eddie’s forehead, just hard enough it makes a funny little noise, and adds a few more pieces of bacon. “Breakfast of champions.” Eddie wrinkles his nose and snuffles, kind of like a puppy, and tugs on a piece of Buck’s wet hair. “I’m glad you’re here, Buck,” he says, and it’s all ooey-gooey emotions in his tummy, too-sweet and sticky like honey, and, oh, that’s different. That’s very… different. “I’ve got a lot of laundry to do and you’re my favorite little helper.” “But I’m injured,” Buck whines, pouting his fat bottom lip out. “Are you?” Eddie smile, ear to ear. “I thought you said you were okay.” Buck fakes a cough in Eddie’s face, tongue out and all, because he’s a brat. “See? Injured.” He shrugs. “Guess I can’t help with laundry at all.” Eddie’s grin widens so far his cheeks chub up. “You’re so fuckin’ adorable, Buck,” he says before he can stop his heart from talking out of his mouth. And it’s fine, maybe, that he’s got shit for brains sometimes, because Buck’s face lights up in a glowing red blush that has Eddie’s heart beating a little fast in his chest. He wonders if Buck can hear the thudding; it’s loud enough and they’re so close Eddie can feel Buck’s heat. “Buck—” “Eddie—” Christopher’s alarm, fucking Crazy Train, rips through the kitchen and startles both Eddie and Buck apart. Eddie’s heart races and Buck’s face is as red as the tomatoes sitting in the windowsill and perhaps it’s a good thing they were interrupted because Eddie’s not exactly sure what he was going to say.

i was tagged by @wildlife4life, @wikiangela, @honestlydarkprincess, @fortheloveofbuddie, @disasterbuckdiaz, @thewolvesof1998, @daffi-990, @try-set-me-on-fire, and @callaplums mwah i adore all of you

and i'm casually no pressure tagging @eddiebabygirldiaz, @eddiediaztho, @callmenewbie, @exhuastedpigeon, @jesuisici33, and everybody else who wants to partake in the tomfoolery

#context? the tomfoolery is actually tomfuckery #<- courtesy of the time my brother and i casually stole some bbq from our grandmother that was. 3 years out of date. but anyway.#ANYWAY #everyday i sprinkle lil tidbits of rural life into eddie and everyday i get a little happier about that fact #he's just a dumb bitch #what was he going to say? i don't know. he definitely wasn't going to tell buck that they're fake boyfriends that's for sure #why would he? he's got buck in his kitchen shirtless cooking #there's some stuff more important than the semantics of the war he's waging on the hoa #like buck in his kitchen smelling like him #'why is my dick hard' idk eddie maybe because you love buck?#who would've thought?#anyway!#tag games

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wrestling-is-for-the-gays · 2 years

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a very broody eddie dealing with the aftermath of breaking chavito’s psyche - wcw thunder june 18, 1998

#eddie guerrero #wcw #wcw thunder #thunder #you brought this on yourself bud #i love you but you're very dumb #my gifs

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waddlesizsleepy · 11 months

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sooooo... canada.

#my art #ed edd n eddy #ed edd eddy fanart #ed boys #doodles #i love them so much you don't understand #i love my dumb bisexual sons #I see you in the morning (Iz) ART STAR-

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dreamofbecoming · 2 months

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thinking about how my dad graduated high school in 1984 and went to college in boston, and he used to stay up late to snag free tickets on the college radio station to basement shows with like. the cars and fuckin. john gorka and shit. and how he used to hang out at coffee shops and bars and listen to tracy chapman play right before she made it big.

thinking about steve and eddie visiting nancy at emerson and catching a coffee shop open mic. thinking about how fast car would probably hit them both like a truck, for similar and also different reasons.

just thinking.

#my dad’s music tastes are. let’s call them eclectic #lots of folk lots of dad rock but also throw some punk and early grunge in there #and some broadway soundtracks for good measure #i grew up on tracy chapman and the indigo girls and steely dan and the pixies and the talking heads #and something about him being the same age as steve and eddie makes all my steddie musings feel v personal #like whatever dumb 80s teen shit i imagine my blorbos doing is also stuff my actual father was literally doing #i should ask him questions for fic research lmao #anyway. steddie. fast car. it would be a thing #failed love abandoned dreams never getting out of your small town ending up like your parents #you can’t tell me that wouldn’t fuck them both up to high heaven #i’m right you know i’m right

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theotherbuckley · 8 months

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I’m going feral over my own fucking writing. The writing gods have possessed me. I did not write this fic, it wrote me. Angh hrrng hnggskskksksks it’s really good I swear but it’s got me flapping my arms like a lunatic.

#the fic is Eddie in hospital and Buck trying not to breakdown #but it’s actually really dumb and wholesome and there’s a lot of fun facts and comparing Eddie’s eyes to cows #and angh angshsjkske it’s so wholesome and I don’t want to spoil it yet but just I’m going feral I love it so much #writing this #buddie #fic is curing my mental illness #I want to rant about it but I don’t want to spoil it you don’t understand #911 buddie #has my entire heart and soul and I hope the writing gods continue to possess me through this

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tired-bisexual-brainrot · 2 years

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damn you guys were right, my middle aged, conservative, republican, homophobic mother just confirmed that people were, in fact, not gay in the 80’s

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hitlikehammers · 1 year

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The Everybody-Loves-Steve-Harrington-So-They-Should-Damn-Well-Tell-Him-Regularly fic nobody one person asked for—

this ended up unapologetically being just an extended love letter, in the form of actions and very sappy words, from Eddie Munson to the love of his life, one Steve Harrington, after they live, damnit, and get to be happy.

———

It’s been three months by the time Eddie puts it together. He’s gonna blame extensive-physical-trauma-via-demon-bat-attack for his lack of perception on the matter; for how long it took.

Actually, wait. Back up.

It’s been closer to seven months since Spring Break, and said demon-bat-attack. He’d been laid up for close to a month, a fucking interminable 26 days that were only made bearable by rereading The Lord of the Rings, again, for comfort; by making margin notes in The Silmarillion because why the fuck not; and by the frankly unparalleled company that was mostly his uncle whenever he could manage, and Steve fucking Harrington, the man himself in the flesh, across more hours than Eddie suspected he could rightfully manage, not without consequences. People didn’t just not rent movies in a crisis; not in fucking Hawkins. But Eddie rarely woke up alone between the two of them and a smattering of everyone else, and it was…nice.

It was really fucking nice, and when they left even for a little while, Eddie got choked up more often than not because having them was so nice. He’d never felt, like. Cared about, before. Not like this.

When he wasn’t getting choked up, though, he was increasingly fantasizing about how soft Steve’s skin looked. Like, to touch. How plump those lips were and what it’d taste like if he got to bite down on them. How Steve’s tongue might fit in Eddie’s mouth, or maybe also elsewhere, and vice versa. He spent some of the time—when he wasn’t alone, even—stuck in those thoughts. He knew it was stupid; dangerous. But Steve always had a tendency to lean into him more than was strictly necessary, the scent of his aftershave and just him in general all collectively kind of cruel to taunt a man with, in all honesty. He touched Eddie way more than was necessary, always mostly innocent but always for far too long. The mixed signals were maddening, to say the very fucking least, especially from a straight boy.

That was: until Robin brought up Vickie when it was just the three of them in Eddie’s room and Eddie—who knew about Robin, but was never completely sure if Steve did, too—got to witness Steve’s dramatic eyerolling at Robin’s plight because I told you to lean in during that part of the movie, fuck’s sake Buckley which was brazenly countered with not everyone got so much practice in before realizing they liked both teams, dingus, and Eddie’d mostly blanked out like the end of a VHS until Robin had left, and Steve had stayed, concern all over his face that’d been hidden in Robin’s presence as he sat on the bed next to Eddie’s propped up form, close enough to feel the heat of him, as he asked what was wrong and leaned as if to take Eddie’s temperature with his lips before pulling away to opt for the back of his hand. And Eddie had frowned, maybe bit back a groan because he had wanted the lips, he had wanted them a whole fuckton of a lot, but he managed instead to ask:

“Both teams?”

And the grin that’d curled out from Steve, then, was fucking cheshire but bright, eyes glinting when he answered:

“I don’t flash it around, but I don’t, like, hide it from my friends”—promptly sending Eddie Munson spiraling as his world got turned inside out.

But what that all means, basically, is that it’s been about six months and change since—after all that practice presumably also worked the other way around, and probably served to give Eddie away for all the fantasizing now that it was suddenly leant a little oxygen, a little fool’s hope—but either way: Eddie did find out, that very night, what those lips tasted like. Felt the words against his mouth, even, before they pulled apart, broke the spell: So fuckin’ glad you’re not dead, you absolute goddamn moron.

From which: it’s been five months and twenty-two days, since he got out of the hospital, dragged into Harrington’s stupidly oversized house—yours is still a crime scene, so your choices are pretty fucking slim, Eds—and deposited not into one of the far-too-many guest rooms, but onto Steve’s own mattress to glare at the overwhelming amount of plaid as he’d protested stealing Steve’s bed before realizing, very quickly, that Steve’s plan hadn’t actually involved giving up his bed to anyone.

Because, sliding in next to Eddie—who was still sore as fuck, but healed and mostly-whole if you counted the slightly creative new shape of his torso with all the stitched-up divots around the eaten pieces—but it clocks in at being about five months, twenty-one days, seventeen hours and like twenty-three minutes before Steve Harrington, who Eddie had harbored a few lingering doubts about regarding the extent of his comfort level with…all of this, despite what had become daily makeout sessions timed around the nurses’ rounds—but those were doubts he shouldn’t have wasted energy on at all, as it happened, given that at that five-month-twenty-one-day-seventeen-hour-twenty-three-minute mark, in Harrington’s stupid-large bed, he got hands on Steve’s dick for the first time and. Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

Which is to say nothing about ten minutes or so later, when he got Steve’s mouth on his dick and…well, fuck.

And yeah, Eddie might remember the set up of that shit to the goddamn minute, but if you made him break it down in any more detail beyond that point he’d fail you, flat out, because Steve Harrington has no goddamn right to be that good at sucking cock.

And yet.

From there, though: it was around three weeks after that, that Eddie became just about certain everything between them wasn’t just sex. It was very very good sex, like, sometimes (most times) mindblowingly good. But Eddie was a little too attached to studying Steve’s face while he cleaned them up after they’d both come; Eddie was a little too entranced by the way Steve’s hair would get flopped into the air by soft puffs of air when he breathed deep in his sleep. Steve, for his part, touched him so tenderly Eddie might’ve died for it. He watched Eddie with a deep-dark intensity in those wide eyes, when it was night and the color in them got lost to the shadows and it was all reliant on the tug, the stray shine in them pulling behind Eddie’s ribs: and those eyes weren’t the same ones he watched the others with. Those weren’t the same eyes Eddie thinks he’s seen anyone watch…anyone with. They held too much, inside. Which was part of the problem: Eddie couldn’t read all of it. But he started to think he could pick up the important parts; enough to read into the way Steve tucked his head against Eddie’s neck sometimes, and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s chest other times, and sighed like the world was right when he managed to do both at once even when that was a boldfaced lie but not there, with them—not in those moments of them.

Basically: Eddie could read enough to be pretty damn sure what he was reading into all of it just…he just couldn’t be too far off the mark.

Which is how it comes to a head exactly 24 days after that, though—Eddie knows that one to the hour, the minute for the way his heart had thumped and he’s studied a clock to try and distract himself away—because that’s when Eddie became absolutely fucking sure, wonder of all wonders; became sure of this impossible thing that was where all the evidence pointed, all the touches and the looks and the sounds and the sighs. And when it happens? It’s not even a heat-of-the-moment thing, they weren’t even fucking, they hadn’t even just been, either: they were just curled in bed around each other, Steve sprawled on Eddie’s chest and Eddie’s fingers in Steve’s hair and Eddie’d climbed through Steve’s window earlier that night because his parents had made an unexpected stop home—first of the year, apparently there were actual things in an actual office his father worked in, located in actual Indiana that sometimes needed his actual-physical signature or some shit—but it hadn’t been planned and Steve had been caught off-guard. And Eddie hadn’t been prepared for how the presence of his parents would weigh on the man, how it would dim the sunshine in him even when they weren’t in the goddamn room, even from behind the counter at fucking Family Video in the days that followed; or else, maybe he could have expected it, a little in theory, but he sure as hell wasn’t prepared for how it twisted in his guts to witness it, or for just how much he goddamn missed falling asleep next to Steve at night with the promise of waking up the next morning the very same way. And Eddie’d been waiting for Steve when the man himself came up about twenty minutes after Eddie’s unannounced arrival via unlatched second-story window, and Steve had stood stock-still for a long moment where Eddie wondered if he really should have thought twice, here, before Steve was beaming, locking his door behind him as downright fucking joy blossomed from him, the sun coming out from behind the clouds, and Eddie’d sighed, relieved to see it when its absence had felt like swallowing glass.

And they’d kissed, fuck but they’d kissed—they’d made out like kids with a fraction of their experience and didn’t dare to go further with Steve’s parents underfoot and it didn’t even matter because it was perfect, fucking sensational for everything it was, and when they’d finally parted for more than a quick breather Steve had whispered to him:

“You’re unbelievable,” and the way he’d said it was with wonder and Eddie’d preened a little for it while he memorized the patterns Steve was tracing on his chest like a treasure map. “Don’t know how you even put up with this bullshit.”

And Eddie knew he’d meant the sneaking in, the dodging his parents, the hiding when it was needed and Eddie’d known part of that was because Steve’d never fucked a guy before—at least not seriously, repeatedly, with attachments and feelings involved and stuff; Steve had been able to live his love life on main and give zero shits, where Eddie’d always known he’d leave part of his heart behind closed doors, if he was lucky enough to find someone who wanted it at all. So part of it, Eddie knew, was just a mismatch of experience, and maybe even expectation. And Steve had seemed fine to keep them under-wraps as needed, not for shame or wanting to hide—shockingly, blessedly—but for understanding the necessity. Yet when it came to Eddie, he automatically turned guilty. Like Eddie wasn’t jumped in, here, leapt in with both feet and no desire to climb out.

Possibly, like, ever.

And Eddie didn’t love that, neither the question nor the doubting; but what Eddie hated most was when Steve said that word—it’s not like it was offensive or like, of particular note in some way; just that it sounded godawfully sour, like bile at the back of Eddie’s with how it rolled off Steve’s tongue, the tone of it, for no real reason at all that Eddie could figure out, he just fucking hated hearing Steve use it: specifically when he was aiming it at himself.

Bullshit.

Which at least partially explained the mindset, the reasoning for what came next as best as anything could, save that it was honest and heartfelt and it couldn’t stay held back forever. It was just that Eddie didn’t mean to say it; not just then—and yet:

“Because I kind of fucking love you.”

And then it was out, and he meant it in his heart of hearts, he really fucking meant it even if he didn’t mean to say it it in that exact moment; but either way it was out, he couldn’t stop it or take it back. There wasn’t even any context for it being a slip of the tongue or the heat of the moment or anything but the god’s-honest truth, fuck everything, and it was probably way too soon—and unjustifiable for that alone—but it was also almost definitely unwanted and unreciprocated and what if they were just fucking, what if it was just fucking, Jesus fucking Christ, Munson, get a goddamn grip—

Then Steve was slipping off of him, away from him, and Eddie’s heart—which had been jackrabbiting wildly was instead plummeting past his stomach to wrestle out from his goddamn toes; stupid, stupid—but then Steve was straddling him, his hands braced on Eddie’s chest as he watched him for only half a moment before fucking devouring him, and in between the downright glorious offensive being carried out on his lips, Steve had panted harsh:

“Thank fuck, thank fuck, thank fuck, ‘cause I’m in fucking love with you.”

Which is how it shakes out, closer to four months since they started, since their first kiss in a goddamn recovery bed—that’s how it shakes out that they’d stumbled up the stairs through the garage the very afternoon Steve’s parents get fucking gone, falling over themselves so as not to lose the contact of their lips because goddamn, Eddie knew Steve could kiss, and his own experience on the whole pales by comparison, but he thinks he knows enough to say the two of them, together? Fuck, but the look in Steve’s eyes when they break for air every time is ravenous, pupils blown goddamn silly, and Eddie would put money on their kissing being something goddamn special.

He was between Steve’s legs, teasing him kind of viciously if he’s honest, when the goddamn fucking front door slammed and they both froze in place because…

Well, fuck. Obviously.

“He’s home? I would have thought college…” a voice wafted up as heels clicked toward the kitchen; heels, two uneven pairs, and heavy flats. Three people.

“Didn’t we all,” a low grumble of disgust, closer to the bottom of the stairs where the coats could hang, filtered upward on its own, betraying a fourth of the party without needing to take a single step: Steve’s absolute fucker of a father.

“He was involved in a fairly serious motor accident,” and that would be the slightly-less-unconscionable-but-not-at-all-forgivable Mrs. Harrington from the kitchen, Eddie’d lay bets on hers being the higher, louder heels, and she sounded concerned enough for her company, Eddie was sure. But not enough for normal people with a goddamn beating heart who give a shit about their fellow members of society, to say nothing of their own flesh and fucking blood.

Which is why whoever her company was: they’d think it was perfectly normal. Concerned, even, and genuine for it. Eddie forced himself to sit back, and close his eyes: Steve’s parents were too fucking much, and they weren’t even his. He’d never even properly met them. But fucking hell.

“He’s fine, but it’s definitely set him off course for a bit.” and oh yes, Harrington the Elder just had to chime back in from closer, still near the door, the base of the stairs: why was he still near the door? So Eddie could jump and run and strangle him more quickly, for the proximity? Like a little present just for him, for its convenience? God, but it was tempting.

“Oh yeah,” Steve had thrown his head back with a thunk against the headboard, “just fine, bet me they’re only guessing it was even a car accident.”

And Steve? Steve just sounded resigned, maybe a little disgusted, or maybe even tired; but Eddie.

Eddie was letting every word feed a genuine fucking rage in his gut, and a well-earned one, too.

“He has a little job, in the meantime” and there’s Mrs. Harrington again. As uselessly, banally inhumane toward her own fucking son as ever. “Just a stopgap, but he’s doing well given the circumstances.”

“Oh yes, minimum wage hawking cassette tapes, we’re very proud,” and Eddie’d thought he might break a tooth for how his jaw was clenching, grinding, because fucking hell. There’s nothing about the man he was kneeling in front of, as he was in that moment—and hell, maybe even more so because of who he was before, for the work anyone’d have to put in to change, and come out genuinely better than not just who they used to be, but better than most people, period—but there was nothing about the man in front of Eddie that was anything less than deserving of pride, and praise, and love.

So much love.

Mr. fucking Harrington was lucky his shoes hustled quick to the kitchen, shortly thereafter, else Eddie may have lost what remained of his restraint.

“Initiative though!” and it’s a third voice, male, the other non-heeled compatriot. Must be a couple. “Nothing like perseverance in the face of adversity. Can’t teach that in class!”

And then came some murmurs, mumbles, the conversation drifting farther from where Eddie could track it, until:

“Steven?” and oh, Mommy Harrington, shut the fuck up.

“Come say hello to the O’Briens! Our flight’s been delayed until the evening and there’s absolutely nothing to do in the airport for that long, but they’d love to see you!”

At least that had explained why Eddie and Steve had been so rudely interrupted when his parents had left that morning and they’d gleefully planned to spend every hour after Steve got off work making up for the lost time between what they’d stolen that week while the house had been invaded by its delinquent owners—because to Eddie’s mind, that’s what they were. Derelict parents, and piss-poor landlords of a house that only tipped over toward a home at all because of Steve.

Because of the love of Steve, and the love that Steve returned. Something these assholes couldn’t possibly comprehend, Eddie was sure of that much.

“Jesus,” Steve had huffed before sitting up, leaning to kiss Eddie’s forehead and grab his hands, dragging him to the bed in Steve’s place. “She probably just realized she forgot her cosmetics case in the kitchen and it was a convenient excuse.”

And then Steve had slipped on a pair of clothes that looked too formal, too put-together for being in one’s own home, fluffed up his hair as best he could and crossed to the bed one more time to peck quick at Eddie’s lips: “Stay up here.”

“Obviously,” Eddie had rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the pang of worry. He hadn’t liked the idea of leaving Steve unprotected with those wolves, those fiends. He hadn’t…liked that at all. He’d known Steve could handle himself, he’d known Steve had done so his whole life thus far, but still.

Eddie hadn’t liked it.

“I’ll make this as quick as I can,” Steve had promised as he straightened up and smoothed his shirt.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie’d found himself promising like rote, like his bones were built from it so how could he not, so he doubled-down because, well. He’d lost himself to Steve a while ago, by that point; there was no possible harm in making it plain now in case there was anything left that hadn’t already been bet in full, risked in whole. “And not just because I…can’t.”

He’d hoped his eyes had told the full scope of the truth of it, too.

Steve had crossed the room again to kiss him, and fucking hard too; it’d felt like he got the memo, which was a plus at least.

But then Eddie had spent the long minutes, maybe hours, thinking; stretched out on top of Steve’s bed. Thinking about the future, about whether there was a future, to this. A future that he could make with Steve where they would tell his parents to fuck themselves, where they could build a life, where Eddie could take care of him and he could take care of Eddie, where they were partners and they grew and thrived together no matter the speed bumps and the roadblocks and the hatemongering and the bigotry. He’d thought about making a life with Steve where that gorgeous soul was never surprised at the idea of people staying, still being there, wanting nothing more in fucking life but to still be there, with him.

Eddie’d thought a lot about the consequences of standing up and jumping down the stairs five at a time so he could deck Steve’s asshole of a father in the motherfucking face.

“I fucking hate them,” was the first thing Eddie’d said once Steve had returned, locking the door behind him as the click of the front door downstairs had followed in kind; alone again. Fucking finally.

Steve had flopped half next to Eddie, half on top of him, and blew out a long breath:

“Join the club.”

“Do they always…” Eddie had started, but hadn’t been sure yet which direction to go. There were so many, and he hadn’t wanted to overwhelm Steve, he’d wanted more than anything to distill all of his disgust, his disdain into one question, one blow he didn’t want to deliver because Steve didn’t deserve more blows, any blows, not ever; and specifically? Eddie never wanted to deliver blows to Steve of any kind. For any reason. He wanted to be the first place in Steve’s world to depend upon to deliver the softness, the tenderness, the damn-near worshipful gratefulness for the fact of Steve Harrington.

Always.

“Whatever it is,” Steve had exhaled heavily, when Eddie took too long deliberating; “the answer’s probably yes.”

And the flippancy, the resignation that wasn’t even resignation, wasn’t strong enough for that—acceptance, maybe? Whatever it was. Eddie fucking hated it in Steve’s voice.

He hated it, and it was the sheer vehement rage that not-quite-resignation had stirred in him that made the question finally take shape and escape his lips:

“They talk about you like you aren’t fucking magnificent.”

It wasn’t even a fucking question. It was a goddamn refutation. How could they. How could they?

Steve had turned to look at Eddie slantways, neck crooked at an angle and his hair flopping over his forehead and he’d…grinned. He’d fucking grinned.

“You are the only person in the world who would say that,” Steve had said softly, and Eddie could tell he’d been aiming for at least a little humor; he’d hit the nail on a vulnerable sort of surprise, instead. Disbelief, but an innocent kind.

“I mean it,” Eddie’d been quick to say, to assure, because by fucking god, did he mean it.

“Then you’re also the only person in the world who means it,” and again, Steve had aimed for teasing, but had landed on a wondering sort of skepticism that had twisted violently in Eddie’s chest; that Eddie wasn’t even sure Steve had known he was giving away. Didn’t know for sure if he’d have let Eddie see it, as a conscious choice.

But Eddie had seen it.

“The kids think you hung the moon.”

And the look on Steve’s face when Eddie had taken that turn, gone down that road: no. Steve hadn’t meant to for his expressions to give him away. Maybe Steve hadn’t even known what was being given away: the same thing that had been in this voice, before. A certain self-deprecation that outweighed the abilities of even the most skilled masters of laughing that shit off.

“Bull,” Steve had huffed with a little snort, and yeah: case in fucking point, and good god, Eddie was starting to see the depths of this thing that Steve kept hidden, maybe best of all even from himself, Jesus Christ. “I wave a fancy nail bat at monsters and I drive them around. They won’t even need the second one soon, or at least Dustin won’t. If he can figure out parallel parking.” Steve’s nose had scrunched adorably then, and Eddie’d wanted to appreciate it fully, wanted to sit up and kiss it, but he was a little nauseated at the way the words were sinking in, the things unsaid beneath them tumultuous and just so fucking wrong. “Umm, right, well like, maybe not super soon. But still.”

“They adore you,” Eddie’d insisted, because even a total stranger, a compete outsider could look at Steve with those twerps and see how they worshipped him. It had confused the shut out of Eddie in the beginning, but fuck if he hadn’t seen it.

But maybe…maybe Steve’d been seeing something totally different all along. Something he’d learned at home, something he’d long accepted as fact. Maybe good natured—if often obnoxious—bantering had always landed as honest critique.

Which, which: fuck.

Fuck.

“I’m an endearing idiot,” Steve had chuckled a little to himself, tracing spirals on Eddie’s forearm, and sounding…content with it. Unsurprised and unbothered by a simple and uncontested fact. And…what the fuck.

And riffling through his brain, Eddie’d started to see it: Steve had always just rolled with it. God, but: Steve had laughed along.

Like it was honest. And true.

“Robin thinks you’re amazing,” Eddie had tried to flesh out the picture that was taking shape and souring in the pit of his stomach; Steve had calmed a little, sobered a little, his tone getting quiet, but…also, small.

Eddie did not like that one fucking bit.

“Rob’s,” Steve had started, a little shaky; “I’m lucky to have her. Sometimes I feel guilty, though,” and: what the actual fuck?

“I hate that she has to kinda, separate me from the other parts of her social life? I mean, I get it,” how. How? What was there to get? “But I hate that she has to, like, defend being around me to her other friends, y’know?”

And no, Eddie had not known. Eddie did not and would never know, because Steve was not a thing to be defended against, or justified. Shit: Steve did all the defending of everyone, these days. His simple living-breathing presence in someone’s general goddamn proximity was justification unto itself.

“I mean, before you? I had my ex-girlfriend, her long-distance boyfriend, and a little gaggle of teenagers. Rob had all the band kids and shit. The language nerds who like sitting around speaking French and German and whatever,” and Steve had carried on, while Eddie’d tried to make the pieces fit. “I don’t know who I flattered in the luck department, but I’m thankful for whatever I did, to deserve finding her.”

And Eddie’d wanted more than anything to explain to Steve that shit went both ways and them some, but then those eyes were trained on him, straight and unblinking and Eddie was then and remained forevermore a weak fucking man for Steve’s eyes, and the love they drowned in, fucking perpetually.

“Same goes for you,” Steve had whispered, breathy as fuck: “so goddamn much sometimes it hurts.”

And again: Eddie had been, was, is, will always be past his dying day, weak as shit for this man.

“C’mere,” he’d breathed back and reeled Steve in and kissed him until his lungs were burning, until Steve’s chest was a mallet against his own from the outside for the force of his panting.

“I love you something stupid,” Eddie’d managed to say, even it it’d been more of a gasp: “I love you something painful and dangerous and fierce, dug in so damn deep, and all of it put together is so far beyond the best feeling I’ve ever imagined, that I can’t even see straight,” and he’d framed Steve’s face and just…drank him in before he exhaled, the sound trembling just a little, but enough:

“God, I love you.”

They’d kissed, and they’d fucked, and it screwed with the tilt of the earth a little bit for how fucking good it was. But that?

That was when Eddie started really paying attention.

In fairness: he always pays attention to Steve—but Eddie also sometimes has the attention span of a goldfish unless he puts his mind to acting otherwise. And nothing in his entire life has ever felt as important as Steve Harrington, so: put his mind to this is exactly what he does. So he starts studying it, finding the threads of it, perking up and filing away and mostly fucking scowling when he hears stray lines here and there, like:

The things we put up with for a free ride, grumbled from a backseat, or:

Sure, he was kind of a douchecanoe, but I swear, now he’s— cut off by the popping of gum behind a counter, or:

He’s not all bad, and really, he wasn’t even all bad then, but… with that last word dangling like damnation, or:

He’s easy on the eyes, sure, but sometimes I wonder if that hair crushes his brain cells, tossed carelessly with a smirk, or:

I don’t know if I’d say dictionary definition of ‘peaked in high school’… with, again, the goddamn ‘but’ so clear it might as well have been shouted into the abyss to echo on endlessly, or:

If he didn’t foot for the tokens, I’m not sure it’d be worth it, garbled around greasy pizza that the speaker sure as shit didn’t pay for himself, either.

So yeah. That’s kind of how, seven months after Spring Break, and after three months of cataloging all of the stray commentaries surrounding his maybe-improbable-but-oh-so-glorious boyfriend, the love of his goddamn life: Eddie puts together how Steve Harrington maybe thinks all of the shit that’s said about him, specifically from the people he loves most, might just be falling into the same category as the absolute bullshit said about him under his own roof, by the two people in the world who were supposed to love him first. And sure, Eddie knows what failed parenting looks like; feels like. Intimately. And maybe Eddie can’t swoop in and stop that, stop them; can’t fix it with the magic wand of his own resolve and the sheer smothering magnitude of his own feelings. But Jesus fuck: Eddie sure as shit can have a word with the people who unwittingly—and god, he hopes like hell that’s all it is, unwittingly, stupidly and thoughtlessly and carelessly tossed because they don’t fucking know better, don’t get to see something deeper than hurt in Steve’s posture, his gaze for it, something that’s more like agreement without a goddamn hint of surprise, or indignation because it’s just accepted as fact, and what’s worse is how if that’s the case, then what’s Steve been taking in as care, as love, as acceptable all this time, for this fucking long? Jesus, just, just—

After three months of putting it all together and being goddamn sick to his stomach, enraged beyond measure at the picture it paints: Eddie makes the executive decision to do something about this shit.

…more (on ao3)

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