#this one REALLY got away from me

[sleepy-steve]

why are you never real?

@steddieangstyaugust 02/08 // ghosts

wc: 6.1k // rating: E // cw: suicidal ideation, sexual content // tags: angst with an ambiguous ending, ghost eddie munson, dream haunting, dream sex, mild suicidal ideation, nightmares, post-s4 but vecna died, inspired by sleep token’s the apparition

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

well, i believe // somewhere in the past

something was between // you and i, my dear

“You’re gonna wake up soon.”

Steve sighs, the motion feeling exaggerated, as most things did here. “Already?”

Eddie cocks his head and smiles sadly at him. “You know how it is, time works—”

“Time works differently here, yeah.” Steve cuts him off gently, having heard the words many times before. “Still… I wish I could stay here.” The with you is unspoken, but in his dreams, Eddie always seemed to be able to read his mind.

“Don’t say things like that, Steve.” Eddie’s tone is soft, but concerned. “It’s too easy to get stuck here, and they—the kids, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan—they need you.”

Steve scoffs, looking back out over the trailer park. It’s night this time. It wasn’t always. But at least they were in the Rightside Up. Sometimes they were in the Upside Down. Eddie said it depended on Steve, his moods, how his day had gone, how much pain he was in from his residual injuries, physical or otherwise. “They don’t need me. Maybe for someone to get his ass handed to him to buy time for more important things.”

Eddie grips his shoulder, a strange sensation still, no matter how many times Steve’s felt it. “Don’t undersell yourself that way. You’re way more important than that. They need someone who’s gonna look out for the reckless ones. How many times would Henderson or Mayfield have thrown themselves into danger if you hadn’t’ve stopped them? How many of them have you saved by looking out, making sure they didn’t do anything stupid?”

Steve looks back at him with a pained expression, head tilted slightly. “I didn’t save you.” His voice is soft.

“That’s not fair, Steve,” Eddie’s sympathetic gaze goes right to Steve’s soul. “You couldn’t have known… I needed to—Henderson… I couldn’t let him get hurt.”

“I know,” Steve sighs, the many times they’d had this argument echoing in his head. “I just… You deserved to make it out. As much as any of us did.”

Eddie’s hand moves from his shoulder to his hand, grasping tightly. If Steve thought about it for too long, the feeling would change, would start to become unnatural. “C’mon, big boy, time’s almost up,” Eddie teases, the humour falling a little flat.

Steve looks from where Eddie’s hand is placed over his, back up to his soft gaze. And as most of these meetings ended, they look at each other like they want to say more. Each of them with unspoken words barely held back, communicating something with near imperceptible shifts in expressions, eyebrows slightly raising and pulling together, tiny shy smiles. “I’ll see you soon?” Steve asks, the same way he always does.

“Of course, as long as you want me to be here, I will be,” Eddie answers, the same way he always does.

Everything shifts, warps, fades. Then Steve is awake, and Eddie is gone.

Steve knew. He knew he was getting too attached. Was starting to just wait for the days to end so he could enter his dreams and see Eddie again. Starting to pull away from his real life and crave the night, crave the warm feeling he got there. Like there was nothing else to look forward to aside from sleeping and dreaming. He knew the others were starting to catch on, to notice Steve’s detachment. He could only blame his ongoing migraines so many times before they’d start to get concerned and demand he see a doctor. But he couldn’t help it. It was like an addiction.

The first few times Eddie appeared in his dreams, those few months ago, Steve wasn’t even aware of what—or who, rather—he was seeing. It was more like a feeling. A level of awareness deep in his subconscious mind that let him know something—someone—was there. Seeing him. With him. It wasn’t until weeks later when he was hit with an exceptionally vivid dream, something he only experienced with night terrors after his experiences with the Upside Down, that he realised who it was.

To have a vivid dream that was calm was its own exceptional experience. Weirdly, he found himself in the trailer park. He was walking around alone at night, the area quiet aside from wind rustling and insects chirping. Steve walked aimlessly for what felt like close to an hour, until he heard a very quiet humming that made him stop and look around. He eventually looked up and saw a figure sitting atop a familiar trailer, swinging their legs and looking up at the stars. The humming got louder as Steve approached. The figure turned their head, and Steve saw a big smile he knew, crinkling the corners of eyes that he last saw as glassy and lifeless.

“Eddie?”

Steve woke up with a gasp, the sight of his own bedroom jarring after waking so abruptly. He rubbed his eyes with trembling hands and shook his head. Despite the fogginess of his mind, he remembered flashes of the recent dreams he’d had, all those weird-feeling ones, and it hit him. Steve didn’t know how exactly, but he was sure that all those weird-feeling dreams he’d had were also about Eddie. They all felt the same, somehow. The same… energy, or something.

Steve dreamed of Eddie again the next night. In that one, Steve was standing below the Munson trailer, already looking up at Eddie, who was still on the roof. Steve called for him, less shocked than the previous night. Eddie smiled down at him, the same as before. Though he only got to say, “Hey, Harrington,” softly, kindly, gently, before Steve startled awake again.

It took two more nights of the same—each wake up just as jarring, hands shaking for long minutes afterward—before something changed. The first difference was that it was daytime, the sun shining down over the trailer park. The second was that, instead of the roof, Eddie was sitting on the small porch of the trailer. Once Steve appeared, Eddie patted the step beside him, inviting Steve to sit.

“Good day today?” Eddie asks, lighting a cigarette.

Steve thinks for a moment, struggling to connect his dream mind to his conscious memory. He did have a good day. Both he and Robin had the day off work, so they took the kids to the movies. “Uh, yeah? How’d you know?”

Eddie waves vaguely at the sky. “Sun’s up,” he says around a puff of smoke. “I’m here instead of up there.” He points to the porch, then the roof of the trailer. “You didn’t wake up the second I opened my mouth.”

Holding out the cigarette, Eddie lets the smoke exhale from his nose like a dragon. Steve accepts it, taking a drag. “Yeah, wonder why that keeps happening…”

“It’s your dream, man,” Eddie shrugs.

Steve only hums, taking several moments to think about it. “I guess there’s no use asking why you’re here then?”

“You wound me, Harrington!” Eddie slaps a hand over his heart. “Am I such an unwelcome presence in your dreams?”

Steve laughs and looks to the ground, tapping the ash off the cigarette. “Of course not, man. I… I’m happy to see you. Even if you’re not, y’know, real… Are you?” He looks back with unease.

“Ah…” Eddie smiles in an odd way. “I guess that depends on your definition of real.” He throws up finger-quotes.

Handing the cigarette back, Steve gives him a quizzical look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie takes the cigarette, inhales the smoke, and lets it out slowly. “You believe in ghosts, Harrington?”

The world shifts as Steve takes in the question, vision warping, colours blending together, physicality feeling both weightless but somehow very heavy.

“Woah, man, hey, stay with me, Harrington.” Eddie places a hand on his shoulder, but it feels wrong. Both too tight and too distant, like it’s not his arm at all but also like it’s inside his arm. Steve meets Eddie’s worried stare and tries to focus. The world settles around them. Eddie’s hand feels less foreign on him.

“You’re a ghost?” Steve finally asks.

“Ta-da…” Eddie does a weak imitation of jazz hands, cigarette between his teeth.

“And you’re, what? Haunting my dreams?”

“Aw, c’mon, man, don’t make it sound like that,” Eddie laughs. “But yeah, I guess something like that. It was more just to, y’know. See. What would happen.”

Steve thinks back on all the weird-feeling dreams. “It’s been, uh, couple of weeks? Right?”

Eddie is defensive, but there’s humour behind it. “Hey. I only popped in a couple of times, but then you started calling for me. And who am I to ignore the call of King Steve?”

Steve frowns and plucks the cigarette from Eddie’s fingers, pointedly ignoring the nickname. “Calling for you?”

“Yeah, I guess once you realised it was me and tried to see me again. It’s kinda like, I dunno. A sense? Or something. I can just feel it when it happens. And I know to come here.” Eddie gestures vaguely, hands moving with his words.

Steve exhales, smoke shooting low out of his mouth. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know I was doing that.” It sounds silly now that he’s said it, but he didn’t really know what else to say. What do you say to the ghost of your kinda-friend who is being called to your dream world?

“Nah, it’s cool,” Eddie brushes it off, taking the cigarette back again. “It’s not like I don’t have a choice. Like you summon me and I get dragged from wherever I am into your dream, nothing so dramatic. But, y’know, not much else to do. Ghost life isn’t exactly the most exciting existence.”

Steve looks at Eddie, who’s looking ahead, seemingly seeing something other than the trailer park. “Where are you when you’re not here?”

Eddie drops the cigarette butt into the grass below them and squashes it with his boot. “Other places.”

He doesn’t elaborate and Steve doesn’t ask. The silence stretches between them for several long moments before Eddie breaks it. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

Steve hums thoughtfully. “We’ve seen weirder shit. Besides, I’m not even sure I’m convinced this isn’t something my whacked out brain cooked up for me.”

Eddie looks like he wants to say something, but laughs softly instead. “I guess I’ll have to find a way to prove it to you.”

Steve mulls over what he’s learned, and remembers what Eddie said when he arrived in this dream. “Are you around when I’m awake?”

Eddie grins at him. “Sometimes.”

Another vague answer, but Steve can’t stop the matching grin that grows on his face.

“Alright,” Eddie says suddenly, looking out to the middle distance, then up at the sky. “Time’s almost up, you’re waking up soon.”

“Wait, what? Really?” Steve was sure it had barely been an hour.

“Time works differently here,” Eddie says. “Sometimes it’ll feel like five minutes, other times, five hours. Just depends.”

Steve feels his brows pull together. “On what?”

Eddie gives him a half smile. “On you, mostly.”

“Are you gonna always give me super vague non-answers?” Steve asks. There’s no heat behind it.

Eddie grins again. “Maybe.”

Steve scoffs and then shoves him softly with his shoulder. Another question creeps to the front of his mind. Overhead, the sky grows grey. “Are you… am I gonna see you again?”

Eddie gives him a curious look and then shrugs. “Sure. As long as you want me to be here, I will be.”

“Okay, okay, cool,” Steve sighs, the surprising bloom of panic settling back down. “I guess, uh. I guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Sure thing, Harrington,” Eddie says with a light laugh. It’s the last thing Steve hears before he wakes up.

Steve jolts awake, but doesn’t sit up immediately. The memory of his dream fresh, not fading quickly the way they usually would, and with it, a lot of confusion. Was that real? How would he ever know if it was and not just some delusion? His hands shake for twenty minutes before settling down. The questions and confusion plague him all day until the next dream.

When Steve arrives, it’s night again. But he’s on top of the trailer, standing a few steps behind Eddie, who is back to sitting over the edge. Greeting him with his usual grin, Eddie pats the spot beside him, same as the night before. Steve sits and joins him, looking up at the stars.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d want me back,” Eddie jokes.

Steve huffs a laugh. “Well, I have some questions.”

“Oh?” Eddie turns fully to face him, crossing his legs. “Do share.”

Steve turns too, pulling one knee up to lean his elbow on, other leg still dangling. “Have you worked out how to prove that you’re actually a ghost?”

Eddie hums, looking off to the side, out at the trailer park. “Sadly, I’m stuck on that one. I could tell you stuff I saw around you today, but that doesn’t really prove anything.”

Steve nods. “So I just… have to believe you? Take you at your word?”

“I mean. You don’t have to believe it, you could tell yourself it’s all in your head and banish me from ever returning to your dream world. If you wanted to.” Eddie shrugs, but continues pointedly looking away from him.

“I wouldn’t—I don’t want to do that,” Steve sighs. “I guess I just don’t want to have my hopes up. That you’re still around in some way.”

Still facing away, Eddie side-eyes him with a small smile. “Can’t imagine anyone being happy about getting haunted.” There’s something beneath the joke. Something soft.

“I guess… it’s nice? To think that you’re there. Here.” Steve coughs a little, struggling with the sincerity that seems to be pouring out of him. No filter in his dreams, apparently. “And in my dreams,” Steve continues. “Because I’m… inviting you?”

“I only answer the call as I hear it,” Eddie says, closing his eyes and holding a hand out to the side, palm up. Steve snorts, and they both laugh. There’s a brightness in Eddie’s eyes. 

The dream doesn’t last long. They spend some time looking at the stars before Eddie notes that Steve will be waking up soon.

“How do you know that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Dunno, just do. Same as you calling me. Just a feeling.”

Steve has no choice but to accept that answer. “So… I guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Sure thing, as long as you want me to be here, I will be.”

Eddie’s smile fades and warps before disappearing completely. Steve is awake and alone again, unsure of what to make of his most recent dream. It was nice to think that Eddie’s ghost was around, that he wasn’t completely gone, but how much could he rely on that? Sure, they had seen plenty of weird stuff, but Steve never believed in ghosts before this. If he wasn’t real, was Steve going crazy, having vivid conversations with the image of a—what? Friend? Steve wasn’t even sure what to call their relationship. This distinction held him up for longer than thinking about whether or not he even believed in Ghost-Eddie’s existence. Both thoughts hung over his head all day like his own personal dark clouds. He found himself wondering if Eddie was around during his shift at work, his car rides, picking up Robin or the kids. It was ever-present, and that thought alone started to make him believe that maybe Eddie really was there. Like his presence was forcing Steve to think about him.

Eddie visits his dreams every night. Days and nights at the trailer park, sitting on the roof or the porch, sharing cigarettes, talking about their lives, their pasts. Eddie claims to see a lot of what the group gets up to, and is always keen to share with Steve his thoughts on conversations, fights, misadventures he sees. (“It’s so good being able to tell someone what I thought!” Eddie says, grasping both of Steve’s shoulders. He feels heat growing in his cheeks at the sight of Eddie’s delighted eyes, but assures himself that it’s nothing.) Steve still finds himself questioning the reality of it all, but he starts looking forward to his dreams more and more each evening.

Then he has a nightmare.

The night terrors weren’t anything new, not since eighty-three. Though it had been a while. The knowledge that Vecna was defeated certainly helped, but there was something else. Steve tried to convince himself it was not the comfort of knowing Eddie was waiting for him. Of knowing that he was never truly alone in his dreams. No, it was definitely not that.

When he arrives at the dream-trailer park, Steve almost jumps back, almost trips over a familiar vine. The sky is a haunting blue-grey, red lightning striking in the distance. The trailer is covered in vines, exactly the same as it was that night. Fog covers the ground all around him.

“Woah, Steve, what happened?” Eddie’s voice comes from his right, causing him to flinch instinctively. “You okay?”

Steve swallows, heart pounding. “Yeah… Yeah, I just…” He took a breath. “Migraine.”

Eddie nods in understanding, looking around them. Steve had told Eddie about the migraines that struck him regularly since his run-in with Billy Hargrove, then doubled after his beatings below the Starcourt Mall. He’d suffered through one today, falling asleep with it pounding behind his eyes and feeling like his skull was splitting in two, cold cloth over his forehead doing little to ease his pain.

Eddie looks back to Steve, concern in his eyes. “You feeling okay now?”

Steve turns his shaking hand in a so-so motion. Thankfully, he wasn’t feeling the physical pain here, but it was clearly showing itself in other ways. Between the visuals of a place he hoped to never see again, the way his heart pounds in his chest, the way he couldn’t seem to take a full breath, he knew he was in a night terror—or at least, something like one. He didn’t know how that changed with Eddie being there. “Been better. You?”

“Fine, aside from seeing the place, y’know…” Eddie waves in the general vicinity, grimace settling over his face. “Like this.”

“Yeah…” Steve exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that.”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Eddie gives him a look, one that Steve was starting to become all too familiar with, huge brown eyes filled with sympathy. “It’s not your fault, Steve. You don’t—”

A low growl stops Eddie’s words, both of them turning sharply towards the sound. The sound of a creature creeping in the grass alongside the growl awakens something in Steve’s memory. “Shit.”

“What?” Eddie’s expression is slowly turning to panic. “What is it?”

“Quick.” Steve turns to the trailer. “On the roof. Go—now!”

He grabs Eddie by the elbow as he rushes to the railing. Steve sets his knee up for support, pulling Eddie forward to go up first. Eddie pulls himself up with surprising dexterity, quickly turning to offer his hand down to Steve. The growling gets louder. Steve grips Eddie’s forearm, using his foot to push off the railing and pulls himself up to the roof. They only get to look at each other in relief for a brief moment before the sound of something heavy hitting metal startles both of them into looking down.

“What the hell is that?!” The panic comes clear in Eddie’s voice.

“You remember when I told you about the demo-dogs in the junkyard?” Steve says, voice unsteady. “Nineteen eighty-four?”

The dog below them opens its face, hissing horribly, drool dripping from its many teeth.

“Jesus, yeah, okay.” Eddie rubs a hand down his face, seemingly unable to look away from it.

Another two demo-dogs join the first, all hissing and jumping at the side of the trailer, sending tremors through the structure. The rattling and sounds of flesh hitting metal send a chill down Steve’s spine. “You think they can hurt us?”

Eddie scratches the back of his neck. “I mean. This is a dream, and I’m, y’know, already dead, so technically no.” He peers over the side of the trailer, legs wide to keep him steady. “But uh, it’ll hurt until you wake up, I’m sure.”

Steve joins Eddie in looking over the side, mirroring his stance. From the fog, another group of demo-dogs joins the others, seemingly larger than the first ones. One of the big ones looks up at them—and how was it looking at them with no eyes?—opens its many-flapped face, and screeches.

Before he can register it, or stop it, Steve grabs Eddie’s hand, instinctively pulling them closer together. He’s unsure if he’s trying to protect Eddie or himself, he just knows he wants him near. Taking a small step, Steve ensures Eddie is behind him, further away from the creatures.

“They can’t get us. Up here.” Eddie’s reassuring tone changes quickly. “Right? They can’t like, fly, or something?”

“Shouldn’t be able to,” Steve says, more steady than he feels. His heart is still slamming in his chest, his breathing is still short, and his hand is still in Eddie’s. Somehow the last fact is the one sticking to the front of his mind.

One of the creatures rears up before taking a leap. Steve grips Eddie’s hand tighter. It reaches high, but not high enough, missing any possibility of getting to the roof by half a foot. He feels Eddie tug on his hand, pulling him slightly back. Finally dragging his eyes away from the creatures, Steve turns to see Eddie pulling him down to sit.

“Maybe if they can’t see us, they’ll piss off,” Eddie says, leaving their hands joined.

Steve follows him, sitting close. “Yeah…” Steve lets out a shaky breath. “Maybe.”

Loosening his fingers slightly, Steve tries not to watch, tries not to see if Eddie immediately takes his hand back after being released from Steve’s tight grip. He doesn’t. He just squeezes gently, reassuring. They sit cross-legged across from each other, while Steve tries to control his breathing.

“You saved the kids from those things?” Eddie asks, fear still lingering in his eyes.

Steve laughs shakily. “Yeah… yeah, like, five of them? Seven, maybe? Had Dustin, Lucas, and Max in the bus. Just whacked the dogs with the bat.”

“Ah, the fabled nail-bat,” Eddie says with grandeur. “Devastated I never got to see it. Pretty metal, Harrington.”

Steve can tell Eddie’s trying to make him feel better, distract him from his own mind, and Steve is willingly lulled into it, a small smile creeping onto his face. Their hands are still clasped together, Eddie now tracing little circles with his thumb on Steve’s skin. It’s all so comforting. So comforting but so temporary. So unreachable. The thought makes his smile drop slightly.

“Hey, you okay?” Ever-observant, Eddie notices the shift.

Steve tries to bring the smile back up, but he’s sure his eyes betray him. “I just… worry, y’know? That you’re not real. That it’s all in my screwed up head. I…” Steve sighs, looking down at their hands, voice growing small. “I want you to be real.”

“Steve…” Eddie’s voice is thick. His other hand reaches out, hesitates, then his fingers are softly around Steve’s jaw, gently guiding his gaze back up. “I know I can’t prove it, but I’m real. As real as a dead guy can be.” They both laugh softly. “I promise. I see you.”

Heart pounding rapidly, Steve tries to blink away the tears pooling in his eyes. “What if I go to sleep one day and you’re not here?” The question comes out quickly, out of Steve’s control. Like he can’t hold anything back.

Eddie pulls his hand out of Steve’s, who mourns the loss for only a moment, before Eddie brings it to the other side of his face, the cool metal of his rings softly pressing into Steve’s skin. “I promise,” Eddie says, voice serious. “I will always be here if you want me to be. Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve whispers, nodding between Eddie’s hands, before they trail back down to Steve’s.

The dream doesn’t last much longer, and Eddie prompts him to go quickly—“It’s a lot easier to get stuck in a nightmare.”—despite Steve’s quiet protests. Eddie brings his knuckles up to Steve’s face again, softly grazing his cheek with another promise to be there the next night, before he fades away and Steve wakes up.

Steve doesn’t have another nightmare for a long time after that. Weeks blend together in a mess of dream memories, Steve finding himself eager to get to sleep each night. He doesn’t tell anyone what he’s experiencing. It’s not that he doesn’t think anyone will believe him, but he doesn’t know how he’d explain why Eddie comes to him every single night. What possible reason could he give for that?

It’s a few weeks later, when they’re laying side by side on the roof of the trailer, Eddie’s hand softly tracing little shapes on Steve’s arm, when Steve finally asks a question he’d been thinking about for far too long.

“That day, back when you were hot-wiring the RV…” Steve starts slowly. Eddie hums for him to continue. “Were you… flirting? With me?”

Eddie doesn’t pull his hand away, but does keep his eyes firmly on the sky. “I—well, yeah. I was.” It’s hard to tell in the low light, but Steve swears Eddie’s cheeks are a little pink. “I just thought—y’know, we’d already seen so much shit. Thought it might, I dunno, make you laugh? But yeah. I was.” The silence stretches for a long moment. “Did you—is that—um, were you…?”

Eddie lets the question trail off into nothing. Steve takes his hand firmly in his, watches as Eddie looks at him and looks away just as quickly. Steve joins him in looking up at the stars. “It took me by surprise, for sure. But I, uh. It was—I hoped. That you were.” His cheeks feel hot, and he can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, analysing him. Steve doesn’t look back, scared to have said too much.

Neither of them say anything, but Eddie squeezes his hand. They stay that way until Steve wakes up, as always with a promise that Eddie will return the next night.

It’s another week, when they’re sitting side by side on the trailer’s roof, before Eddie struggles to ask a question that has seemingly been on his mind for days, hands more jittery than usual as he lets his fingers trail over Steve’s skin.

“Do you think… if I hadn’t—if we’d been able… that maybe,” Eddie clears his throat. “Maybe we could have…?”

Steve doesn’t need to hear the words to know what he means. “I think… yeah. There was something. Between us. I could, I dunno. I could feel it.”

He can’t explain it, the thing that Steve felt. Some electricity, some pull that dragged him into Eddie’s orbit starting the second Steve’s back was shoved into the wall of the boathouse and a shard of glass was pressed up against his neck. He found himself constantly in Eddie’s space, and was sure that Eddie felt it too. The lack of needing to distance themselves from each other. It was present, and the more Steve thought about it, inevitable. If they’d had more time, been able to explore it… 

“Okay,” Eddie exhales heavily. “Yeah. Me too.”

They lock eyes, and Steve sees barely concealed grief, longing, in Eddie’s. The almost imperceptible widening, irises shining, the slight pull of his mouth, all says more than anything either of them could put into words. Eddie breaks the moment, letting his head rest on Steve’s shoulder, hand clasped tightly around his.

It’s one of the longest nights Steve’s had in his trailer park dreams.

It gets much worse after that. Steve constantly pulls away from his real life, like it’s just time to fill until he can get back to his dreams. He often says how much he wishes he could stay. He doesn’t say why, but Eddie knows. Despite how gentle his tone is, Eddie reminds him to think of his real life, to not let himself get stuck in his dreams. But Steve sees the resolve slipping, the way Eddie doesn’t even seem to be able to convince himself when he tells Steve how important it is to stay present, with the people that love him.

Steve opens his eyes to his dream to see night, as it often is, though the sky is clouded. No sign of the stars he and Eddie usually spent the nights looking at. He knows why the clouds are there, his earlier argument with Robin echoing in his mind. Eddie is where he usually is, sitting with his legs dangling off the roof of the trailer.

“Hey,” Eddie calls softly. “You okay?”

Steve shrugs before moving to the railing to pull himself up to join him. The silence settles between them, Eddie waiting patiently for him to start talking. Steve doesn’t say anything, instead looks at his own shoes beside Eddie’s.

“C’mon…” Eddie brings his face close to Steve’s, leaning down with a small smile. “Tell me what happened.”

Sighing softly, Steve doesn’t bother to ask how Eddie knows something happened. He always knew. “Just had a fight with Robin. It was stupid. I’ll apologise to her tomorrow.”

“Why was it stupid?”

“She just…” Steve runs his hand through his hair. “She knows I’m hiding something from her. Said I’ve been distant. And I got mad about her asking. The whole thing is my fault.”

Eddie is quiet for several moments, studying him. “That doesn’t sound stupid to me.”

Steve sags a little at the words. “Yeah… but if I had just told her… maybe not all of it, but enough. I dunno. We probably wouldn’t have fought.”

“Steve…” Eddie’s voice is so soft, Steve knows he doesn’t want to hear what he’s about to say next. “You can’t… you can’t keep doing this. I’ve told you before, it’s too easy to get stuck here—”

“Well maybe that’s what I want!” Steve snaps, cutting him off and immediately regretting it.

Eddie pushes himself a few inches back, away from Steve, expression unreadable. He pulls his knees up to his chest. “If I think…” His words are slow and measured, “that you are at risk of getting stuck here… I’ll—” Eddie pauses, seems unsure for a moment. “I will have to stop coming back.”

Ice floods Steve’s veins. “What? What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you getting stuck here. You need to live your real life, you can’t just keep waiting to come back here. It’s not healthy.” Eddie hugs his knees. “I don’t want to stop coming. But I will if I have to.”

“Eddie… no…” Steve reaches out but stops when Eddie shakes his head.

“You can’t keep doing this. It’s not your fault that I didn’t make it,” Eddie says, referring to their conversation from the previous night.

Steve feels a wave of guilt wash through him. “We could’ve saved you. I could have saved you.”

“I made my choice that night, you can’t keep blaming yourself for it.” Eddie pulls his legs tighter. “But it’s not just that… is it?”

Steve curls in on himself. “I… I can’t help it. Knowing that we could have had… It’s like this—thing that won’t leave me. It’s all I think about. You are all I think about.”

Over his knees, Eddie gives him a devastated stare, eyes swimming with it. He looks at Steve like he has so many things to say, but doesn’t say any of them. Holding it all back. Holding himself back.

Steve feels the lump growing in his throat. “Please… please don’t leave me, Eddie.”

Whatever resolve Eddie had crumbles, and he shifts close to Steve, taking his hands. “I won’t, Steve. I’ll always be there. But this… it isn’t good for you. If I need to hide from you, for a little while…” 

“Please don’t…” Steve whispers, looking up at him with wet eyes. Their noses are almost touching. “Please…”

“Steve…” Eddie sighs, pained. His brows pull together.

Steve pulls his hands from Eddie’s, placing them on either side of Eddie’s face. He watches the conflicted look fly across Eddie’s eyes before he leans forward slightly. Their lips brush so softly, Steve shudders a breath at the feeling and Eddie groans, eyes closing as his frown intensifies. Steve freezes for only a moment, before surging forward. Eddie is grabbing him tightly, one hand pressing at his back, the other pulling on his shirt. All of their fear and longing felt through the movement of their lips. It’s fierce and heavy and desperate. Eddie’s tongue is in his mouth and he tastes like cigarettes and the salt from Steve’s tears. Letting his hands soften, one cups Eddie’s jaw, the stubble rough against his skin. The other trails down his neck, then to grip at his hair, fingers tangling in the curls.

Steve’s heart races, and everything starts to warp. Eddie is not close enough and he’s so close they’re almost one. Their lips are too soft and too firm against each other. It feels intense and it feels like he’s chasing it. It’s all consuming and it doesn’t feel like enough. He tries not to think about it. Tries to just sink into the feeling.

Unsure how or when it happened, Steve is on his back with Eddie above him. Their hands are everywhere, mapping each other, clinging desperately to one another. Steve pulls Eddie closer so their bodies are flush, feeling the weight of the man he knows in his heart is dead but feels so real and alive on him now. Feels the expansion of breath in Eddie’s chest, the thrum of his pulse in his neck, the pull of his teeth on Steve’s lip. He hears the soft moans from Eddie’s throat, the rustling of their clothes as they move against each other.

Their movements become frantic as hands move to waistbands and zippers come undone. Everything blurs. Their hands are together, wrapped around each other, running up and down their lengths as one. Steve’s lips trail down Eddie’s throat, breath catching as he feels the pulse there again. Every sensation arguing, screaming, that he’s real and alive. Eddie ducks, bringing his lips back to Steve’s, face angled to deepen the kiss until they're both panting into each other's mouths.

Steve tries to look but only sees snatches of detail. Eddie’s eyes, hooded and glazed as their hands move quicker. The redness creeping up his neck. The creases between his brows deepening as his moans grow louder against Steve’s lips. He can’t tell whose groans belong to who as their breath combines between their lips, their hands moving together. Pleasure coils low in his abdomen, his breath hitching as he holds tight to Eddie with his free hand. He moans and cries, lips dragging against each other as he comes, Eddie close behind him. Their hands slow and their breathing softens. Eddie’s weight is on him almost entirely. Everything else feels fuzzy.

They lay there, arms wrapped tight around each other, for what could be hours. Time has never been clear to Steve here. They hold each other as though fearful that one might be snatched away from the other at any minute. Between gentle kisses, Steve looks to see tear tracks running down Eddie’s cheeks—no doubt mirroring his own. His focus starts to return, the warped feeling fading, returning to the clarity of his familiar dream world. Steve remembers what they had been talking about before.

“I won’t,” Eddie says, eyes locked on his. “I won’t leave. I promise.”

Steve has no choice but to believe him, nodding before kissing him again. It might have been one of the longest dreams Steve’s had, but it’s entirely too soon before Eddie warns him that he’ll wake up soon. Steve pulls him tighter, his desire to stay stronger than ever. Eddie is the one who finally pulls away, sitting up beside him.

“Promise me you’ll fix things with Robin?” Eddie tries to ask it casually, but it’s clear he’s avoiding what he really wants to say.

“Yeah,” Steve sits up with a half smile. “I promise.”

Eddie reaches out, letting his hand trail down Steve’s cheek, stopping at his jaw. He leans in for a slow, soft kiss. Everything he wants to say is in his gaze—gentle, longing, pleading.

“I’ll see you soon?” Steve asks, the way he always does, and yet not at all like that. There’s so much more behind it. His voice wavers, afraid that the answer will be different.

“Of course,” Eddie answers, voice breaking. As the dream starts to warp and fade, Eddie’s wide wet eyes blurring before him, Steve hears the promise more earnestly than ever. “As long as you want me to be here, I will be.”

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Love Langauge

There was something about the way that Harry always knelt down to greet Scorpius with a hug that Draco couldn't take. It was too much, too precious, it made him feel like his whole world was narrowed down to just two people, heart too full.

“Daddy told Auntie Pansy that people getting shit done is his love language.” Scorpius informed Harry primly and Draco promptly wished that he could just sink through the floor as Harry’s eyes, twinkling with mischief, found his over his son’s shoulder. He knew he shouldn't have had that floo call with Pansy about work while Scorpius was in the house.

“Did he?” Harry asked, before turning his attention back to Scorpius. “Sounds like acts of service is it for your dad.”

He shook his head, "Scorpius, it's your bedtime."

His 4-year-old turned and pouted at him, "But Harry just got here."

"I know," he said, understanding completely the desire to simply exist in the other man's orbit. "But it's past your bedtime already."

"Can I see you tomorrow?" he asked Harry, turning his pout on the other man, whom, Draco knew from experience, had no defenses against a pouting Malfoy.

"I would like that very much," Harry said sincerely, looking up at Draco, "if it's alright with your dad."

They didn't do this. Harry didn't stay overnight, he wasn't there in the morning when Scorpius woke up, as far as Scorpius was concerned, they were just friends. He'd been too afraid of his son getting attached, and how it would affect him when (if) Harry left. "Maybe Harry would like to meet us for ice cream at Fortescue's," he replied.

Scorpius spun around to look at him, literally jumping for joy, but Draco didn't miss the way that Harry's face fell before he caught himself.

"That sounds great," he said, smiling at both of them.

"Do you want to give Harry a hug good night?" Draco asked.

Scorpius nodded and Harry knelt down again, wrapping his arms around Scorpius. "Night, buddy," Harry said.

"Night, night, Harry," he replied. "I love you."

"Love you too, bud," he responded easily, and Draco's heart shattered in his chest.

He cleared his throat, "Come on, Scorp," he said softly, "bedtime."

His son's arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders tighter for a moment, then he was off, dashing toward the stairs. "I'm gonna beat you!" he called to Draco over his shoulder.

"Be right there, teeth first," Draco called back. He turned to Harry who was standing from the floor once more, "Hey," he exhaled.

"Hi," Harry replied, smiling at him and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"I'll be back soon. Sorry that nothing went quite according to plan tonight and he's not down yet."

"It's fine," Harry said, shaking his head, "You don't have to apologize. If you'd wanted an extra set of hands, you could have owled and asked me to come earlier."

"That's not your job," he protested. "Harry, the lines-"

"Daddy!" Scorpius called, mouth sounding full of what Draco suspected was toothpaste.

"Coming!"

"Go," Harry said, nudging him toward the stairs. "I'll be here when you're done."

Draco nodded and turned, leaving everything with Harry until after bedtime. Bedtime was his favorite time of day, stories and singing, quiet reflection, cuddles in the rocker, before tucking his child in for the night and stroking his hair until his was fast asleep.

He lingered for a few extra moments in Scorpius' doorway, watching his son sleeping. He planned the whole speech in his head: Scorpius was the most important person in his life, his world revolved around his child, he wanted Harry but he couldn't put Scorpius' heart in danger. Bad enough to be putting his own heart in such a precarious position, he thought as he closed the door and headed downstairs again.

When he reached the living room, Harry was nowhere to be seen, so he wandered through to the kitchen imagining that Harry might be uncorking the bottle of wine that Draco had seen tucked in his coat pocket.

What he found instead, was Harry standing at the sink, up to his elbows in water as he washed the veritable mountain of dishes that Draco hadn't had the time or energy to take care of. That seemed to be the case with more and more things lately, he just didn't have the capacity to work and be a single parent.

"You don't have to do that," he said, embarrassment flooding his whole body.

Harry glanced over his shoulder and smiled at him, "I don't mind." Before Draco could protest, he continued, "I'm almost done anyway. Do you want to pour us some wine? I picked up that Merlot that you were fond of at that Italian place we ate at last month."

"I can't do this," Draco breathed, feeling like the air had been punched out of him. He stumbled back to lean against the doorway.

"Draco?" Harry said softly, voice full of concern, and Draco looked up to see him drying his hands on the towel as he looked at him.

And Draco wanted to cry. The image of Harry standing there, sleeves rolled up from washing the dishes for him, brows drawn in concern, was burned into his brain. Because this was it. It had to be. "I can't," he managed, shaking his head.

"Can't what?" Harry asked gently, moving a few steps closer but leaving space in between them.

Space that Draco wished he would close, wished that Harry would crowd him into the wall and make him forget everything else.

"Sweetheart," Harry murmured, "tell me?"

"I can't do it," he said and a tear slid down his cheek. "I'm so fucking tired," he added. "I can't be a good dad and run a business when no one is doing what they're supposed to be," he shook his head, "I'm a complete shit boyfriend-"

"You're not-" Harry started to protest.

"I am!" he exploded, throwing his arms in the air. "You're here and you're cleaning my house for me, and you brought me wine that you remembered that I enjoyed a month ago! And what have I-"

"Draco," Harry said, voice very calm as he closed the distance between them and cupped Draco's face in his palms. "Take a breath, love."

He shook his head, hot tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, pressing kisses to Draco's forehead, his nose, his cheeks.

"I don't have anything to give you," he said, closing his eyes so he didn't have to watch the realization of that truth dawn on Harry's face.

"You are not what you do," Harry said softly. "Your value as a person isn't defined by what you give."

"But I can't give you anything."

"That isn't even true," Harry argued, pulling Draco into his arms. "Choosing to spend your free time with me when you could be doing a thousand other things is a gift. You give me your affection. You make me laugh, and you tease me, and you listen to me rant about my day. You open your home to me, your bed to me," he added softly, voice wrapping around Draco's fragile, bleeding heart. "You give me yourself, you let me see you, let me touch you, and hold you. You accept me in return. Circe, Draco, what more could I even ask for?"

"Harry," he whispered, wanting so badly to believe him.

"Your love language may be acts of service," he said, laughing a little and Draco huffed and rolled his eyes, "but mine isn't. Mine's quality time," he added. "And your secondary love language might be gifts, but my second is physical touch. We aren't the same," he said. "And that's a good thing," he added.

He gave in and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, dropping his head to his boyfriend's shoulder. "I'm afraid," he whispered.

"Of what?" Harry asked, letting his hands slide up and down his back.

"Of getting in too deep," he said. "That I'm going to fall for you completely and I won't be able to recover when you leave."

Harry hummed and kissed his temple, "Who says I'm going to leave?"

"It's hard to imagine that you want to stay when I'm such a mess, when I'm too afraid of you leaving to let you spend the night, when-"

"Draco," he tried to interrupt, squeezing him.

"-when I am constantly pushing you away," he finished.

Harry was quiet for a minute, then he said, "you aren't really pushing, you know." He let his fingers tangle in Draco's hair, "I hear what you're saying, but I'm not going anywhere, Draco. You can push and I won't leave."

He laughed, short and bitter, "You say that now but you haven't seen me at my worst."

Harry laughed at that, "I think we both know that's not true." He pulled back, "Sorry, but pretty much nothing you can do now will compare to the time you smashed my nose with the heel of your boot and left me under my invisibility cloak. And," he added, "there's not really much that I can do that would be worse than literally cutting you apart with my magic-"

"Because I was trying to crucio you," he inserted.

He shook his head, and pressed their foreheads together, "If you want me to leave, now or ever, you will have to say the actual words. I won't read those words in your actions or in your other words. You pushing right now actually just feels like you're trying to love me, so," he shrugged. "I'm pretty stubborn." He nudged Draco's nose with his, "I'm here for good."

"Do you promise?" Draco breathed before he could stop himself.

Harry pulled back, just far enough that he could look Draco in the eyes. He reached up and tucked Draco's hair behind his ear, "I love you," he said softly. "We've been together for over a year," he said, "but Draco, I've loved you for so much longer. I fell in love with you over pub nights, and consults for work, and watching you with your child," he shook his head. "You're amazing and I don't want to go anywhere." He cupped Draco's face in his palm, stroking his thumb over Draco's cheek, "I promise, love. I'm in this."

He exhaled, closed his eyes, and tried to let himself believe that, believe that he got to keep this.

"Draco," he said softly, "I," he swallowed, "I want to give you stability, whatever I can to show you that I mean it. I've wanted to ask you if you wanted to move in together," he said, sounding nervous. "But it seems presumptuous since me moving in with you makes the most sense logistically. And I've wanted to ask if you wanted to get married, but I know you've said-"

"You want to marry me?" he interrupted, eyes flying open to search Harry's face.

He nodded, earnest and dear, "Of course I do. I just," he shrugged, "you said marriage was the worst thing that ever happened to you and that Scorp was the only good thing-"

"Stop," he said, kissing Harry because he couldn't quite help himself. "Harry, I meant political marriages," he kissed him again because this felt like a proposal, like a huge declaration. "My marriage to Astoria where she just fucked off after she got her inheritance that had been contingent on having an heir, that marriage was shit. And I wouldn't trade Scorp, but I wanted a partner-" he broke off.

"Draco, I-" he broke off, shaking his head, "I want to be your partner, I would do anything for him, I would be anything-"

"Harry," he breathed because this couldn't be real, this couldn’t be happening.

Harry shook his head, "I know that I can't just jump in and be his dad, but Draco I love him so much, I would do anything."

He stared at Harry for a long moment before he leaned in and kissed him.

The other man kissed him back, pressing him back against the wall and caging him in with his body.

"I love you," Draco managed against Harry's mouth. "Salazar. Yes, Harry," he gasped. "Yes to any of it, to all of it. Whatever you'll have of me."

"I'll have all of you," he murmured, "Any bit that you'll give me." He pulled back and Draco almost tipped over. Harry steadied him with his hands around his waist, "Stay right here," he murmured, giddy and breathless, dimpled-smile so bright that Draco was nearly overcome. "Don't move," he repeated before leaving the kitchen.

Draco heard the closet in the entry way opening, then Harry was skidding back into the kitchen. He fell to his knees in front of Draco, opening a ring box and displaying a simple silver band.

"Marry me?" Harry whispered, eyes wet and smile bright.

Draco nodded and Harry's trembling fingers held out the band to him, slipping it over Draco's ring finger. Once it was in place, Draco fell to his knees in front of Harry and cupped his face in his palms.

"Thank you," he whispered and Draco found himself wiping the tears spilling from his eyes.

"I think I'm really getting the better end of the bargain here," he whispered back with a little laugh.

Harry shook his head and more tears spilled out, Draco's heart felt like it was bursting in his chest. "This is everything I've ever wanted," he replied.

Draco wrapped him up in his arms and hoped that he'd be worthy of that love, worthy of that claim. "Stay," he whispered.

Harry nodded back, "Always."

----------------

written for the @hdcandyheartsfest prompt 'love language'

Read more of my 2023 hdcandyhearts ficlets here.

[waywardspicy]

🐺🪵 but make him 💖

[courtingchaos]

Rent the Space Inside My Mind

1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I PT 6

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: During a hazy afternoon y'all get a little lost in your heads. Eddie tells you a really funny joke.

A/N: Jesus christ this got away from me. I've had this open for two weeks (???) just chipping away and rewriting and deleting everything. I need it off my phone. I'm so sick of looking at it! I really hope you guys enjoy it! This one gets a little spicy? Nothing crazy, just some daydreaming and just All of The Pining Imaginable. I'm not sick of these two being oblivious yet, so strap in friends. (AlsoAlso, just tossing this out there this is 18+, and will just get worse as it goes on so like don't interact if your a lil baby please) Y'all wanna see the gif again?

Friday afternoons were very specifically You and Eddie hangout hours. Typically quiet, never boring, it now usually started with a blunt since someone (you) had broken someone else’s ( Eddie’s) bong. It had truly been an honest mistake and while Eddie held no grudges, he did miss watching you pull on the thick smoke, so many thoughts rushing at him in those few precious seconds. You’d cough, eyes watering and he’d wonder if you’d make the same sounds with him buried in your mouth.

Slow your roll, cowboy.

It’d been maybe an hour since you kicked his bedroom door in, a McDonald’s bag held in either hand.

“Oh my queen, is that what I think it is?”

“Literally six large fries dude.”

You toss one bag at him where he’s laying on his bed, and beeline for his dresser to drop your stuff. You glance up at his first love while you shuck your jacket off and he’s obviously watching you because he playfully says “Go on, give her a kiss. You know you want to.”

Looking over, you’re 100 percent right. Fries sticking out his mouth, he’s got that shit eating grin plastered on his face, his dimples deep and soft and you just want to grab him there with your thumb and middle finger pressed in and push him back into his pillow.

“I’m not kissing your guitar.” You say flatly.

You on the other hand…

He pouts at you while you start digging around the top drawer, looking for the party supplies.

“You know, I wouldn’t go all haphazard in my drawers like that if I were you.”

“What, afraid I’m gonna find something dirty again?” You throw that over your shoulder while you search for the pre roll you know should be in there.

“Ha ha ha”, Eddie mock laughs, getting up from the bed to open a different drawer in the dresser. “I moved it, made more sense over here.” He pulls out a small wooden box and closes the drawer quick. You quirk an eyebrow at him and dart your eyes between him and the drawer his hand is still on. He just smiles easy and shakes the wooden box at you.

“Oh look at you, a whole box now? What, loose weed in your socks not your thing anymore?” You tease him and pluck it out of his hands to dig through it.

“Aha!”, the blunt you had so lovingly rolled on Wednesday in his van, parked outside of your own trailer before you went in for the night. Made like a pinkie promise for Friday afternoon, he’d taken it with a bow of his head; a knight receiving the fair lady’s favor.

“I’ll guard it with my life.” He meant it too.

Eddie had watched you, completely enraptured, run the tip of your pink tongue along a seam of the blunt, the smallest glint of metal peaking out of your mouth. He had tried being as sly as he could be, but he was sure he’d been actively panting by the time you handed it to him. This little fucking thing clutched in his hand had seen more action from you than he ever would. For that, it stayed in his possession.

“You better, that’s the last of that bag.” You’d held the empty ziplock up when you got out of the van, shrugging at him. Eddie promised to pick up only the best from Rick before Friday, so you dug forty bucks out of your wallet for him.

He’d long ago stopped arguing with you about paying since you were the one with an actual job. The bookstore downtown took up three of your afternoons normally, which is why Friday Fundays were created. If Hellfire wasn’t meeting and he didn’t have band practice, he’d sometimes bum around bothering you and your few coworkers.

They had all taken a liking to Eddie, firstly because he was pretty well read, and could quote Tolkien at them fast as lighting. Most of the older women you worked with were just as easily charmed by his big dimpled smile and his abundance of ‘ma’am’s’.

Secondly, he was typically quiet but always respectful so because of this, every single one of them had asked you on multiple occasions if you two had started dating yet. Always prefaced with a big sigh, you’d tell them ‘Why no, of course not, he is actually just my friend.’ It would always end with them tittering and smiling, talking about how boys were never friends with girls like that when they were younger.

“Georgia, it’s 1983, times do change.” You’d reminded your coworker one evening while you both watched Eddie rifling through books on a bottom shelf. Georgia had leveled a look at you and said, “I think after 62 years, I’d see when a boy likes a girl.” You’d wanted to remind Georgia of her coke bottle glasses but kept that one to yourself.

Eddie didn’t like you, not like that. You were positive. The two of you had come together as friends, nothing more. It wasn’t his fault you’d turned 16 and suddenly became aware of his dimples when he smiled at you, or how big his hands were when he’d grab at you when the two of you roughhoused. You’d kept this attraction on complete lockdown for two years and you weren’t about to let Georgia from the bookstore pry it out of you.

Firstly, and Most Importantly, he was your pit buddy. Very early on in the friendship, still both 15 and fresh faced and trying desperately to get into local shows, you’d realized you were both pretty hardy individuals. After saving Eddie from a beating by a Senior boy and then the next week starting a fight over one of the first uses of ‘Freak’ towards him, it’d given both of you an idea of what you could handle.

And it was glorious.

You’d only ever had girlfriends before meeting Eddie and while you did genuinely like doing the girly things, no one ever wanted to do the tomboy things with you. Now though you suddenly had someone who wasn’t afraid of getting into it with you, especially in the middle of a crowd of moving bodies. The first show had been some local band playing just outside of Hawkins, they were metal-ish and loud and fast and it was everything Eddie had promised it’d be. The two of you had spent the hour after the show waiting for your mom and wrestling in the grass next to the venue, taking turns throwing each other on the ground. That night had been the most fun you’d had in a long time and by the time you both climbed into the back of your mom’s station wagon you were breathless and covered in grass and laughing.

Your mom dropped Eddie off with Wayne, apologizing for the dirt child she was leaving on his doorstep.

“I have no idea what happened in an hour.” She’d kind of laughed, and Wayne waved her off telling her Eddie had come home looking worse.

“Tell Ms. Helen thank you.” Wayne said, herding him inside while Eddie yelled out goodbyes and thank you’s. On the short ride to your trailer on the backend of the park, your mom had tried to grill you for information about Eddie. You were honest with her, that the grass and dirt was from play fighting and the few cuts on your knees were from going nuts during the concert. Obviously she was concerned, but she admitted to you before turning the car off,

“I’m just happy you’re making friends hun, that’s all I want.”

~

Holed up in Eddie’s room, the window cracked just barely to help circulate air and keep as much warm in, you take your normal position on the floor, leaned up against the bed. His head is hanging off the edge while he tries to blow smoke rings.

He waves the blunt in front your face and you wave him off while you dig through your book bag to find your D&D notes. Diamond Head is on low in the background and you hum along while you look for the scribbles you’d jotted down during lunch earlier.

“What tragic character have you created now?” His voice is deep from the smoke and the angle he has his head tilted at. You don’t even chance a glance sideways, just clench your jaw and flex your toes in your shoes.

“No one new, I was thinking of some like, extra story for my cleric.”

“Oh Christ, not the corn god again.”

“Yes the corn god, all praise Helio.” You say it with no emotion but hold your hands up in praise above you. Eddie rolls his eyes and copies you, muttering ‘Praise Helio’ under his breath.

The two of you fall into quiet conversation, passing the blunt back and forth until it’s hard to pinch, stubbed out in the ashtray next to your leg.

Honestly you thought Eddie had fallen asleep with how quiet he was so you’d shifted away from the bed to lay next to it on the floor. Engrossed in notes from one of Eddie’s DM binders (and a good steady high), you don’t notice him slowly moving to keep you in his line of sight. He had been close to sleep but you shifting had stirred up your perfume from your hair and pulled him from his daze. Something sweet and deep that hung around his room long after you’d left.

He had only recently really admitted to himself just how head over heels he was for you so this attention he was leveling at you was still surprising to him. In fact, he’d picked up a new little habit: small things of yours that just happened to find their way into his pocket. Stuff you’d never really miss but little things that made him think of you. Hair clips that he actually used sometimes. A few chapsticks and one of your eyeliner pencils, a guitar pick you’d use when messing with his acoustic and a minifig that he knew you were looking for but it wasn’t important to this campaign so it didn’t matter right now. If a t-shirt of yours found its way in there it was none of his business.

Under the assorted stolen tchotchkes was a single Polaroid he kept tucked deep in the drawer under the little cigar box he’d handed over to you earlier.

That lived face down in the drawer lest you almost accidentally ever see it again. He’s not a pervert (Don’t lie to yourself Munson) but this was an accidental photo taken at an opportune time. Halloween the year before and you had shown up to his trailer in an Elvira getup that had Eddie clutching the counter to stay upright. Complete with black wig and tits out to the universe he was sure he’d never seen so much of you on display. Standing in the doorway you’d had to call his name a few times before he invited you in, Eddie stuck in a staring contest with your chest. You’d done a little half turn for him once inside where he all but vomited compliments at you over your painfully accurate costume. If he followed you around like a dog all night, it was only to make sure he was somehow marking you as untouchable to everyone else.

This was just one of the rich kids parties so Eddie was there to sell and you had tagged along for an excuse to dress up. Normally Eddie would plant himself in his van for an hour or two and then head home but you seemed to be enjoying the party, even though you barely left his side. He never actually partied with this crowd of rich assholes but the combination of you, beer, and everyone being moderately decent to him all night lent to him letting his guard down. By the time midnight had rolled around the two of you were a drunk giggling mess, looking everywhere for the wig you had eventually torn off in the heat of the house.

The morning had snuck up on you though, both of you jolted awake by an errant ray of light seeping through the blinds in the strange living room. You found your shoes by the front door and you two snuck out to Eddie’s van and headed home.

It wasn’t until he was sat outside his own trailer, smoking before heading in, that he found the Polaroid in the breast pocket of his jacket. Eddie had found a camera at some point, he can vaguely remember that. And he had taken this crooked photo of you, legs stretched out and propped up in front of you with the slit of your dress hiked up around your hip. Your head thrown back against the couch while a cigarette hung out of the corner of your mouth. The long line of your neck mapping a trail down to the deep cut neckline and just cleavage for days. Eddie stares and stares for so long before he notices in the bottom corner of the photo, your hand resting on his thigh, painted black nails digging into the dark denim.

It takes his forgotten cigarette burning down to the filter and burning his finger to snap him out of his lust daze.

That photo had lived beside his bed for a good while, serving as a bookmark in many things. (Which is how you’d almost found it one afternoon in his copy of Salem’s Lot.)

He’d stare at it before bed, imagining whatever scenario he could that involved you crawling over that couch and devouring him. Your lips painted dark red, leaving marks all over his neck and you hair, curled and soft from being pinned up all night dragging over his shoulder. He’d never been with a girl that had really taken her time with him but he imagined you would. He knew how soft your hands were, could imagine what they’d feel like dragging down his ribs over his stomach, tugging at his belt. You’d push his shirt up while pulling his jeans down and look up at him with that glint in your eye, the one you’d get before you really threw yourself fully into something.

Sometimes this would be the softest imagined scenario all quiet moans and gentle kisses, you handling him so carefully. Featherlight touches down his thighs, your hands soft around him while you whispered little praises up at him from between his knees. Those were nights where he was feeling especially lovesick (like when you were out on a fabled date). Getting deep into his feelings in the dark, sometimes not even actually jerking off, just thinking of you while he lay in his bed trying to sleep.

The other times though, those times he’d grab you up in front of everyone at that party and find a dark corner of that rich kids kitchen. He’d walk you backwards, up against a wall and cage you in with his body, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other ghosting down your side to grab at your hip. Without shoes on your only a few inches shorter than him, but you’d still have to look up at him from under your lashes. Your hands would wrap up the sides of his face and wind in his hair and you’d pull him down to you, lips soft and warm. He’d hook a finger in the neckline of your dress to try and get your tits out and he just knew they’d fit so perfect in his hands. You’d mewl at him and make all the little noises he could imagine you might make when he runs his fingers over the lace of your bra. He’d smirk at you while you pulled at his neck, trying to get him closer, pulling your body flush up against his. Slot your leg between his and grind up on him to feel the hard length of him against your thigh.

It didn’t take much for him to picture you bent over a bathroom vanity, hands braced on the sink in front of you and crying for him. His hand fisted in the velvet of your dress and pushing it up to your waist so he could watch himself bury his cock in you while you whined and moaned for him to not stop, never stop, keep going your gonna make me cum-

The shuffling of paper brings him back down into his room. Remembers that you are also in his room and he has to keep his fucking imagination in check because you can clearly see the raging hard on he has from your place on the floor. Only if you looked over that is, just a turn of your head and you could see him straining against his jeans-

He mentally slaps himself back in place and takes a deep breath to try to focus on something literally anything that isn’t you and your tits and your thighs and your breathing…

From your position on the floor you can see Eddie lying face up on his bed, eyes closed, fingers tapping on his chest along with the drum beat. The notes you’ve been looking at are held at such an angle that you’re actually just peering at him like a little creep over the top. Watching his fingers tap, watching his chest rise and fall, watching his face scrunch up when he hears the bass really kick in. It’s lulling you into a stasis of sorts; you’ve been good and toasty for a bit now, the two of you no longer essentially hotboxing his room. The floor was supposed to be grounding you so you’d stop imagining things like climbing up on the bed with him. Would he even open his eyes or would he just smile?

Assume you were trying to get comfortable.

You could surprise him. Tangle your hand up in his hair and pull his head back to hold him in place while you attacked his neck, leaving little red marks up and down the column of his throat. Maybe he’d laugh, all breath and a little gasping, the vibrations making you smile against him. You could move your way up to his mouth and he’d taste just like you’d imagined a hundred times before. Tobacco and weed and a little salty from the fries he’d been eating earlier.

This is not the first, nor will it be the last time, that you sit and wonder what secrets that mouth beholds.

You are slowly spinning out on the floor of his room, your mind going…well, more like an inch a minute rather than a mile. Eddie’s notes long forgotten next to you in the carpet, you’re just about to drift off into your daydream about his fingers tap tap tapping down your sternum when he clears his throat and turns his head to look at you, says something you don’t catch.

“What?”

“I said ‘can I ask you something?’” He repeats himself and rolls over to lean on an elbow. His eyes are fixed on you, a notch between his brows making him look worried.

“What’s up?”

“Can I rain check next Friday?” He asks you almost hesitantly. It takes a few seconds for you to catch up before you frown a little yourself.

“And postpone the Friday night french fry extravaganza? What, you got a hot date or something?” You think you’re being slick but a blush starts to creep up his neck.

“No way! Did Gwen change her mind?!” You sit up from the floor to crawl over to the edge of the bed where you prop your chin to grin up at him. Your daydream is left with the notes while you rush into his space, face close to his own. Weed is still hugging your faculties pretty warmly so you don’t get a chance to stop your eyes drifting down his face to his lips.

He absolutely does not miss that look, but he’s also dipped pretty deep in this high so he lets it go because this is new. He’s never seen you look at him like that before; bites his bottom lip because he’s not entirely sure what’s happening in this moment.

No harm in letting you stare.

No harm in him watching you worry at your own lip.

Please let me bite that for you.

Your eyes finally snap back up to his with a questioning look in them.

Yes yes yes do it first please I’m too much of a coward.

Time is molasses the way the guitar in the background is molasses and you’re just staring at each other when you huff lightly.

“So…Gwen?”

Yeah, Gwen. Who’s Gwen?

“Uh yeah kind of? Nothing like crazy or whatever.” He breaks eye contact with you to stare at his blanket and pick at it. He’s not even sure why he’s still set on hanging out with her honestly, not with this huge fuckin’ crush he’s got burning for you. That first time he’d asked Gwen it had been with some actual feeling behind it. It’d only taken her a week to come back after turning him down though, a quiet question on her lips. Cornering him in the parking lot after school she’d made it a point to get him alone by his van where they were out of eyesight of everyone else. That should have been his first clue that this wouldn’t be a real date, but he’d been too caught off guard by the god damn cheer outfit.

“Does that offer still stand?” She’s sweet and a little naive maybe and he’s kind of weak for that so of course it does. Anything to get you off of his mind.

“For what?”

“Going out for a bite.”

“I mean sure, if you’re free.”

“Of course silly. Next Friday though.” She giggles and tucks a note with her number into his vest pocket.

He tells you all this, not looking up from his blanket the whole time. He admits that he knows she probably isn’t really interested in going out with him but she seems fun and nice and like who cares right?

“Yeah, she gets to test out what kind of freak I am and I probably get laid so…” he trails off. You’re still all up in his space so you can see his eyes darting around his blanket, looking for a distraction. This isn’t the first of these kinds of conversations between the two of you and you’ve seen that hurt in his eyes before. It’s not like Eddie is laying waste to all the girls of Hawkins High. He’s got maybe a solid handful of conquest under his belt, but they’ve all mostly treated him like a big secret. Something they got to do on a weekend or three and then moved on to something better. Something brighter. Something more well rounded and presentable.

“It’s not like she’s gonna take me home to meet mom.” His laugh is small and hollow when he rolls back over to stare at his ceiling. You pull yourself away from the edge of the bed, the cozy little spell broken.

“Listen man, you don’t have to go out with her. Just cancel it. What’s the worst that’ll happen? She doesn’t talk to you anymore?” You’re trying to break the sad tension with a joke and a gentle punch to his shoulder. He doesn’t budge, just sighs real big and continues to stare up at nothing.

You’re not super worried about this. Either he doesn’t hang out with her and you two get to have your normal Friday, or he does and you wait it out like you have with the others.

See, Gwen is an easy obstacle. She’s one of the nice cheerleaders, and she’s a year below you guys but she has no idea what she’s dipping her toe into. Eddie is a special brand of person and with his ability to talk an ear off, he’s sure to scare her off quickly. They’ll go out on their date and probably fool around a few times and then she’s going to comment on Hellfire. Or his band. Or his music. And then Eddie is going to get bored. He’ll remember what it’s like to talk about his interest unhindered with his little group of misfits and he’ll come back, acting like nothing ever happened.

So you have nothing to worry about.

Gwen will be easy.

💕Tags List💕

@edsforehead, @fracturedarkness, @munsonsguitarpick

Thank you again you guys!

[grayraccoon]

Ways to greet someone you haven't seen in a while:

"you're alive" with enthusiasm (If you like the person)

"you're alive" derogatory (If you dislike the person)

"you're alive" with disdain (If you hate the person)

"you're alive" with surprise (If you thought the person was dead and you were on friendly terms)

"you're alive" with anger (If you thought the person was dead and you were on bad terms/you killed them)

"you're alive" with annoyance (If the person refuses to die no matter what you try)

[hangmanbradshaw]

i don’t think I’ve said this enough but you’re incredible!!!! I CANNOT WAIT TO BINGE READ CHAPTER 21 AND 22 🤍🤍

- nowayhomebucky

I ADORE YOU FRIEND!!!!! Thank you for always listening to my insanity, and encouraging it. I hope you’re ready for *checks pages* almost 20k of chap 22? Oops.

[fire-buffalo]

haha....first draft of part 2 is at 10k words....oops....

[reineydraws]

i regularly think about mishanks immediately post luffy becoming pirate king and this is one of the fluffier ideas haha

also kind of the spiritual successor to my very first mishanks post :'))

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Don't Wormy About Me.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Confessions

Steddie || ~2.3k words || rating: T || tags: post vecna, references to stancy, angst and fluff, robin buckley just being herself

~~~

Eddie and Robin were just finishing filling the snack bowls and mixing drinks when they heard a knock at the door. It’s a Friday night– and not what Eddie would consider a late hour–but they weren’t expecting anyone to join their weekly movie night at Steve’s. 

He glances at Robin who shrugs, shaking her head. As he rounds the kitchen counter towards the foyer, Steve’s voice carries down the hallway.

“Nance?” He sounds surprised too.

“Steve, I’m sorry I know it’s late, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I can’t wait anymore,” she says. Eddie can’t see her, but she sounds anxious. 

“This can’t be good,” Robin huffs. He agrees, if the sinking pit in his stomach is any indicator.

“Look, Nance, now’s not really–”

“Steve,” she barrels over him, sounding desperate. “I’ve been an idiot trying to convince myself that I haven’t missed you since we broke up– and before you say it, this isn’t because Jonathan left after we closed the last gate. When we were stuck there with Robin and Eddie, the way you looked at me was how I’ve always hoped someone would love me. You looked at me like I was everything to you, like you could look at me forever and never get tired of it. I feel wanted, and loved, and safe when I’m around you.” She takes a deep, steadying breath before pressing on.

“Last time, when we were together, I took all of my grief and anger out on you. I blamed you for  what happened to Barb because I couldn’t face it myself and I knew you loved me enough to hold the weight, and I resented you for it. You wouldn’t stand up to me, and I resented you because you loved me anyway.” Eddie can hear Nancy sniffling, small sobs carrying down the hallway. “You loved me at my worst, and you didn’t deserve that. You’re amazing, and strong, and kind and everything I could ever ask for.

“Steve, what you said in the Winnebago, I just, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us”

The silence that follows is stifling and Eddie feels bile climbing up his throat. Arms wrap around his shoulders as Robin tucks her head into his neck. Only a small comfort while months of gentle moments with Steve flash behind his eyes: soft hands brushing his curls, stolen glances, lingering touches, and warm smiles. Now Eddie’s forced to stand vigil as it’s all washed away by Nancy's whispered pleas.

A spark of hope after a late night confession months ago– swiftly blown away.

“Nance, please–”

“Steve Harrington, I lo–”

“Nancy,” Steve interrupts, his tone firm yet soft around the edges, “I’m in love with someone else.”

Robin gasps into his neck. Her arms around his shoulders squeeze tight, anchoring him to reality in the wake of Steve’s confession. His chest is so full he can’t breathe. 

“Oh,” Nancy whispers before another, deeper sob leaves her breathless. He never thought he’d hear Nancy Wheeler cry. Even though they’re apparently both in love with the same man, he’s grown close with her too and can’t help the urge to comfort her. Eddie’s grown to love everyone in his new found family. But Nancy is right. 

Steve Harrington is everything. 

And Eddie’s everything is Steve Harrington.

“Yeah Nance, I’m sorry. And they’re kind of here right now, so,” he says gently.

And they’re kind of here right now…

Hope flames in his chest, blooming with warmth. Eddie doesn’t hear the conversation end over the buzzing in his own head and Robin’s frantic giggling until they hear the click of the front door and Steve’s footsteps coming towards them.

“Oh.”

Steve’s standing in front of them, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Eddie’s realizing he and Robin maybe should’ve hid before Steve rounded the corner to find them eavesdropping. 

“So,” Steve stammers, a fierce rouge burning his ears, “how much of that did you hear, exactly?”

Robin quickly stands, clearing her throat before Eddie can think of an answer. “Is that the microwave? Did anyone else hear the microwave ding? I think the popcorn is done, so I can go check that right now. Yeah, right now. I’ll just, umm, be in the kitchen checking the popcorn. For the movie.”

She practically sprints down the hall, and although she wasn’t subtle, Eddie’s still thankful for the privacy. Steve’s shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

“Everything,” Eddie answers. “We heard everything.”

“Oh,” Steve says again. He sounds anxious and unsure, something Eddie’s compelled to fix, because all he wants in this world is for Steve Harrington to be happy.

“It’s ok.” He takes Steve’s hands in his own, tracing his thumb lightly over his knuckles. “We won’t say anything to her about it, and we won’t tell anyone what she said. Nancy’s in safe hands with us. Mum’s the word!” And as Eddie mimes zippering up his mouth, he hopes that Steve won’t take the easy way out. That he won’t use the life-raft Eddie’s just thrown in his direction to keep him from drowning. 

“Right,” Steve says. He runs a hand through his hair, biting his lip as he gazes at the floor between them. The silence as Eddie waits for Steve’s next words grows long and tense. He can’t hear any movement in the kitchen, making him more anxious now that he knows Robin’s listening. Which, he’d be a hypocrite to be mad about.

Maybe he has this all wrong. Maybe Steve just needed a way to get her to leave, so he lied about having a date over. Maybe he didn’t know what to say, and just said the first thing to pop into his head. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with Eddie at all. 

Eddie realizes he’s still holding Steve’s hands, his grip tightening the longer he spirals. If it hurts, Steve hasn’t said anything. But when Eddie looks at his face, he seems dazed and lost in thought. As fast as if he’d been burned, Eddie drops Steve’s hands and takes a step backward.

“So,” Eddie stammers, voice shaking, “I’m going to go help Birdie with the popcorn. You want to get another movie started?”

Hands still frozen in the air, Steve finally lets his clenched fists fall to his sides. Eddie can see the whites of his knuckles. He hears Steve sigh, exhausted and frustrated, but Steve’s nodding with furrowed brows and taking a step backward towards the living room– away from Eddie. Too far to reach out to.

Turning away, Eddie’s in the middle of forming an escape attempt when he opens the kitchen door to immediately be swept up in Robin’s arms. Of course she’d been listening. He’s grateful for it, now that he doesn’t have to explain himself. As he buries his face into her neck, he finds a wet patch and wonders what kind of accident she got into while prepping snacks. It’s not until she starts gently shushing him that he realizes he’s crying, tears soaking into her shirt. 

“It’s gonna be ok, teddy bear,” she says, running her hand through his curls, “he’ll get there, I promise. He’s working on it, you know that.”

He nods. He does know that. Steve’s been out to Robin for a few months, but only to Eddie for a few weeks. He deserves the space to figure it out, and the grace of those around him to do so at his own pace. Still, Eddie can’t help his growing impatience alongside the increasing severity of his crush. At least Robin’s here to support the both of them.

The two of them finish gathering the snacks in silence. She was full of awkward jokes to try to lighten the mood, but when it was clear Eddie was stuck in his head, she’d stopped. He feels bad about it. He’ll make it up to her later, plus he knows she’s not upset with him. Eddie suspects they’ll be getting together sometime tomorrow to rehash everything that’s happened– after she’s finished consoling Steve, of course.

When they leave the kitchen, Eddie’s surprised to find Steve exactly where he’d left him. He’s standing frozen in the hallway, lip pulled between his teeth and hands still clenched. But when he lifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s, there’s resolve behind his eyes.

“Eddie,” Steve says, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Oh my god! Finally!”

Eddie jumps violently at Robin’s shouting, almost directly into his ear. She’s flushed red with embarrassment decorated with a manic grin so wide he wonders if it’ll just keep stretching like taffy. There’s popcorn poured out onto the floor from where she clearly threw her hands up in excited exasperation. He watches as her eyes grow wide, her smile morphing into shock, her lips forming a perfect ‘o’, as if to say ‘oh shit, I just interrupted the most important moment in my best friends’ lives because I’m so excited and impatient that these two dinguses finally figured their shit out’.

She kicks the scattered popcorn towards the wall, like that’ll somehow hide the mess, before awkwardly passing them both down the hall towards the living room.

Eddie loves her so much.

“Huh,” Eddie chuckles, “well that was–”

“I’ve known I’ve liked you since last summer when you let me help you into my pool onto Holly’s rubber duck floaty so you could finally go swimming after you finished physical therapy.” Steve sounds out of breath, words running into each other with misplaced breaths in between. Like if he stops, he knows he won’t start again. 

It’s the only time Eddie’s felt the urge to keep quiet– when he’s not fighting for his life.

“You were so nervous,” Steve plows on, “but you said you felt safe with me, that you wanted only me to be there. You said you trusted me to help without laughing or judging you. Fuck, Eddie, you were so goddamn cute once we got you settled in with a Coke with a crazy straw in it. We were listening to ABBA and you didn’t even complain and you were so sunburnt the next day. It was the happiest I’d ever seen you.”

The memory leaves Eddie shocked. He did trust Steve to help, didn’t even consider asking anyone else because Steve just felt like the most obvious answer. He’d been there through the worst of Eddie’s post-PT work to make sure he ‘kept form’ on his exercises. They’d lounged in the sun all day, and it was the first time Eddie watched Steve relax since his final Upside-Down battle. 

Eddie feels his lip quiver, eyes burning, knowing they’d felt the same that day. Judging by Steve’s watery eyes, he guesses they feel the same now, too. 

“But love,” Steve whispers. He swallows as he takes a step closer, reaching out to grasp his hands. “Eddie Munson, I knew I was in love with you yesterday.”

His shoulders tighten as he recalls yesterday, surprised because they hadn’t seen each other at all, one of the rare days where their schedules didn’t line up. It was the first time in months they’d gone longer than thirty-six hours without seeing each other. Sure, they’d talked on the phone while Steve worked, but it’s not the same.

“I know,” Steve laughs, clocking Eddie’s confusion. “I thought about you all day. Couldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried. Robin had to work with the customers because all I kept thinking about was tonight. If you’d get here before Robin, so we could sit out by the pool and smoke. Where we’d sit for the movie and if we’d get to share the popcorn bucket. If you’d pick a movie I hadn’t seen, so you’d lean in close and tell me a million random facts, even when you know I don’t really get it. But I just like when you’re close, next to me, and–” he hesitates– “I think that’s why you do it.”

Steve lifts their joined hands, wiping a tear from his eye using the back of Eddie’s knuckles. He returns the gesture, wiping what Eddie’s guessing is a mix of tears and snot off of his own face with Steve’s sleeve. 

“I think you lean in because you want to be close to me, too, and you don’t actually care about the movie either. Eddie, I think you ask for my help because you trust me in a way only Robin does. You give me cute nicknames like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘pretty boy’ because you’re teasing me, but I think it’s mostly because you really mean it.” Steve’s stepped closer now, and Eddie can feel the warmth of shared air between their gasping breaths. 

“I think you tease me and lean into me because you want my attention,” Steve whispers, brushing his nose alongside Eddie’s as their foreheads touch. “But Eddie, you’ve always had my attention.”

Eddie surges forward, capturing Steve’s tear-soaked lips between his own in what has to be the snotiest kiss either of them has ever had. But he doesn’t care. How could he? Eddie’s kissing the man he’s been in love with for almost eight months. 

Steve drops Eddie’s hands in favor of running one through his dark curls, while the other grips tightly at his waist. He can’t help but cup Steve’s cheeks, running a gentle thumb along his cheekbones. 

It’s soft and messy and everything he’s ever hoped for, because Steve Harrington is his everything, and he’ll do anything to keep him. Right now, he doesn’t have to worry about what they’ll tell their friends, or how they’ll explain this to Nancy, or even if Robin’s listening behind the door– he’s sure she is. No, right now, he lets himself bask in the glow of Steve’s love and soak in the comfort that Steve feels loved in return.

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

arthur makes me so fucking feral. "i'll die for you but i won't face you and actually try to understand what it is you want" "i want you to honestly own your past and your mistakes but i will punish you for every reminder that you came from those past mistakes" "i don't realize how important i am to you, why would i be important to you?" "my hand is yours, my eyes are yours, you belong in my skin. i hate you for taking my body from me" "you are either a monster or human, and if you do not want total humanity, then you deserve the damnation of monstrosity" "i love you. i am lying to you. can we even recognize each other?"

arthur lester your fucking Problems

[ladymochimochi]

✦♡✦ Need To Know - Part Two ✦♡✦

Katakuri x Fem!Reader [AO3 Link] Part One Description: Katakuri's fantasies become reality. Tags: Clothed sex, Face sitting, oral sex (F!Receiving), Multiple orgasms, Dirty talk, Desk sex, Size difference (Reader is slightly sized up to better fit Kata), Come shot, Facial, Come swallowing, 18+ MDNI Words: 3.6k ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

It truly was getting to be too much. You could not get the sound of him saying your name that way out of your head. So desperate, so needy. It made your stomach flip and your blood run hot. Ever since that day, it was like you were stuck in a haze - floating through your daily routine around Katakuri’s estate, his moans on repeat inside your head. It had definitely spiced up your private time in your bed chambers at night as well. 

The only issue is that you would never bring this up to him. How were you supposed to go up to your huge and intimidating boss – who you also had a crush on - and casually tell him, “Hey, by the way, I was totally listening in on the other side of the door the other day. It was really hot. Should we...?”.  

Yeah. Not happening. 

So, you had kept your head down and worked diligently while trying to avoid bumping into Katakuri. But that could only last so long and you felt your face go pale when you were told it was your duty this week to clean up his office. 

Not only could you potentially see him in there, it was also the scene of where it all happened. How were you supposed to do your job and not want to die the whole time? 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Fortunately, luck had been on your side and when you had entered his office after knocking, it was evident Katakuri was out at the moment. You quickly got to work, wanting to get your chores done in here before he could return. His office was quite large but not much was in it. Just a large desk and chair and a chaise lounge with a low table, along with a rug, some decor and bookcases. The chaise lounge you always figured was just a part of the decor since there was no way Katakuri actually used it. 

Just as you were wrapping up, you heard the door open behind you and you froze. Of course, your luck could only last so long. You heard Katakuri say your name like he wasn’t expecting to see you and hearing your name from his lips again sent a shiver down your spine. Gathering your courage to face him long enough to get out of here, you quickly turned and grabbed your bucket of cleaning supplies. 

“I just finished, my lord,” you told him. “I’ll be out of here in a moment.” With a small bow, you attempted to leave but he shut the door behind him before you could even cross the room. Panic flooded your senses and you could only watch as he strode up to you. Certain bloodlines within you made it so you weren’t tiny next to him, but you still only came up to about his abdomen. You shyly looked up at him to see him looking down at you and his gaze made it feel like he was analyzing you.  

“M-My lord?” You stammered out, unsure of what to do.  

“I feel like I haven’t seen you around that much these past few days.” Katakuri told you and you felt a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it down and looked away from him. 

“Oh... W-Well, you know, I’ve been so busy cleaning all over the place. So... So many rooms, you know?” You rambled out, your face going the color of crimson. It was a stupid excuse but you couldn’t just tell him the truth outright. You had been avoiding him but you never expected him to notice. He was an important and busy man and you were just a maid that worked for him. It was clear from the other day that he was attracted to you but the fact that he noticed your absence from his presence made your heart flutter. 

His stare only continued and he made no reply to your excuse. It was evident he was not buying it at all and your odd behavior only piqued his interest even more. You began to fidget, hoping he would just let you go and die from shame in your bed chambers. His eyes drifted down to where you were white-knuckling your cleaning bucket and after a second, he visibly stiffened. 

“...You overheard, didn’t you?” His question was so quiet but you heard it all the same. A knot formed in your stomach and you felt tears prick at the back of your eyes. You could have tried to play dumb and say you didn’t know what he meant but you knew it was pointless and also cowardly. Words bubbled up your throat and you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking out. 

“I’m so sorry, my lord. I truly didn’t mean to but...” You started to confess but you trailed off, not knowing how to excuse your spying on him. Not able to face him anymore, you turned your back to him, still death gripping your bucket. You knew it was rude to do, especially to your boss but your heart just couldn’t take it. “It was wrong of me.” You whispered. 

“No.”  His reply stunned you. “It was wrong of me to do that and then put you in this position.” You turned slightly back to him and while you couldn’t see half of his face due to his signature scarf, you could see the tips of his ears were a dusty pink. The sight made your heart beat faster and it was something you wanted to burn into your brain. You turned away again, staring at his desk. This whole situation was awkward for the both of you but here you were and this needed to be taken care of.  

It was time to be honest. 

“It’s alright... I actually didn’t mind at all.” You said, your face burning hot. He stepped closer and you could feel the heat of his body right behind you. 

“Is that so?” He rumbled out, right by your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine and you finally dropped your bucket. Him being so close was making your head spin.  

“Yes. It was...” You trailed off, feeling too shy to say it aloud. But he wasn’t going to let you off like that. 

“Tell me.” He ordered as he stood back up to his full height and put his hands on your shoulders. You lost your breath at having him finally touch you. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it may just burst from your chest. Was this really happening? Where was this even going? If it was going where you thought it was, you weren’t going to say no.  

“It was really hot. Hearing you say my name like that, knowing what you were doing on the other side of that door.” You whispered, your skin burning. He didn’t immediately reply and the silence was killing you. 

“What were you thinking about?” You breathlessly asked him and he gripped you tighter. You needed to know. What had been going through his head while he stroked himself to the thought of you? 

A beat of silence passed before he replied. 

“How about I show you?” 

You stared up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes and slowly nodded your head, your mouth now gone dry. With that he turned you around and lifted you up, hitching your legs around his waist. You let out a small, startled noise and clung to his broad shoulders. You didn’t expect him to move so quickly after how slow the two of you were going just a moment ago.  

He brought you over to the chaise lounge and sat down on the edge of it. You were now straddling him and could feel his arousal press into you. It was quite large and it made you swallow while wondering how you were going to take it – if this even went that far. 

His large hands moved to your waist to hold you in place and - to your surprise - he laid back onto the large rectangular cushion.  

“Wh-What are you doing?” You asked him startled. Katakuri was the man who never laid on his back and here he was now laying beneath you. Not that you minded really. Having this huge man now pinned under you made heat coil in your lower stomach. 

His eyes roamed over your body and his hands moved down your waist to your ass, pulling your short dress up to bunch around your hips. He then grabbed your ass roughly and you gasped.  

“I’m going to let you in on a secret.” He said as he kneaded your ass. His movement caused your hips to start rocking, grinding your core against his cock still confined to his pants and you panted lightly. “I do lay on my back from time to time. Especially when I’m about to have my hot maid ride my face.”  

His words stunned you to silence and you could only stare down at him wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. You were most definitely wet at this point and you could feel your pussy throb at how seductive he was being. 

“Now, I’m going to need these off.” He said as stopped kneading your ass and he snapped your panties against the skin of your hip. It jolted you out of your stupor. Biting your lip, you continued to grind yourself down on his arousal. You didn’t want to have to get off of him for even a second.  

“Rip them.” You told him like a soft command and his eyes widened, pupils dilating and he let out a growl as he promptly ripped both sides of your panties. You lifted your hips enough to get the ruined cloth out from under you and he tossed them across the room. 

“Close your eyes.” He rasped to you and while the sudden command left you confused, you did as he said. “Don’t open them until I tell you to.”  

“Yes, my lord.” You whispered in response, darkness the only thing you could now see. Not being able to see what he was going to do to you next added another level of heat to the situation and you could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest. Then you felt his strong hands on your hips and he was lifting you again. A small gasp left you as he brought you up and set you back again. You felt the soft fabric of his scarf on your thighs and you put two and two together that he had you hovering over his face. Knowing your bare pussy was right in front in his face made you feel so light headed, you were worried you may pass out. 

There was a small sound of fabric shifting and then you felt it. His large, hot tongue licked up your slit and you threw your head back as you let out a loud cry. One of your hands went backwards to brace yourself on his broad chest while the other fumbled to find his hair and you gripped it tightly, earning a grunt from the man below you. His fingers dug into your thighs and then he went to work on you like a man starved. 

You moaned loudly as his tongue lapped at your clit. It was an extreme pleasure you had never felt before and you gripped his hair tighter. Katakuri let out raspy groan in response and flicked his tongue faster. You cried out again and began to move your hips. As you rocked your hips in time with his licking, you could have sworn you felt...fangs? Your mind was in such of a sex haze though that it quickly left your thoughts.  

You could feel your orgasm building quickly and you quietly begged him for more. He started to switch between licking and sucking on your clit and it wasn’t long before your orgasm ripped through you. You let out a high-pitched moan and squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to snap them open. You rode out your orgasm on his face while he kept licking and sucking.  

Once you were able to catch your breath, you started to shift away from him. But he only gripped your thighs tighter. 

“I’m not done yet.” He growled beneath you and you were about to question him when his tongue plunged into your hole. You screamed out at the hot, wet intrusion. Your hand on his chest pressed down harder and you dug your nails into his flesh. You wished you could open your eyes and watch him go to town on you but you didn’t dare disobey him. His tongue repeatedly went in and out of you and you could nothing but moan, pinned down to his face.  

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” You gasped over and over, another orgasm coming quickly. “It’s so good.” You groaned out, now having found your voice. Katakuri moaned in response and went even faster in and out of you. Your thighs began to shake and you pressed yourself down onto his face harder.  

“Yes, yes, yes!” You squealed out as you rode out your second orgasm. Once this one passed, you let out a harsh breath and doubled over, still keeping your eyes closed.  

You lifted yourself from his face and this time he let you. His own haggard breathing could be heard and it made your walls clench. It reminded you of him jerking off and you hoped you could hear more of his noises. 

With your eyes still shut, he lifted you again and put you back on his lap. His erection felt even harder than before and you bit your lip. There was shuffle of fabric again and you waited for his next order. 

“You can open your eyes now.” He told you and you slowly did so, getting adjusted to the lights again. You looked down at him and drank in the sight of him.  

His hair disheveled, large chest heaving, half covered face flushed red, eyes absolutely hungry. You could come again just looking at him. It must’ve shown on your face because he swiftly sat up, wrapped your legs around him and stood once more. This time he took you over to his desk and set you down on your feet. But your legs were still shaking and you had to grab him before you collapsed to the floor. 

“I got you.” He said as he held you up. “You doing okay?” He asked you gently and you nodded back. “We can stop if you need to.” He said but you shook your head. 

“No, I’m good to keep going. Please don’t stop.” You told him softly, looking up at him. His gaze over his scarf turned hungry again and then he turned you around, placing a hand on your back. His large hand on your back slowly pressed you down so that your front was pressed down against the top of his large desk. The hand still there gently rubbed your back as it slowly made its way down to your ass.  

He pushed your dress up so that you were exposed to him and he turned his hand to slip two fingers into your wet cunt. The sudden intrusion made you cry out as you rocked your hips back to ride his fingers. He large fingers dipped in and out of you at a brutal pace. It stretched you out good and you knew this was in prep for his large cock.  

After everything he had done to you, it wasn't long before you reached yet another orgasm. You were a stuttering mess of oh yes and please as your third orgasm ripped through you. Your breath was ragged as you rode your high. 

“Please...” You started to beg. “I need your cock, my l-lord.” You couldn’t even catch your breath but your body needed him and needed him now. You could feel yourself dripping wet and your thighs slick. 

He removed his fingers from you and you heard the clink of his belt coming undone. Your mind was fully hazy again with lust and all that was on your mind was his cock. You wiggled your ass at him, excited at the prospect of getting fucked. His hand came down and smacked against one of your cheeks causing you to cry out. 

“Stay still.” He ordered huskily and your eyes rolled back.  

“Yes... Yes, my lord.” You panted, the side of your face pressed against his desk. Then you felt the head of his cock as he notched it at your entrance. One of his hands gripped your hip as he slowly directed his cock into you.  

You moaned loudly at the stretch; he was much bigger than you ever expected but you were determined to take it all. His thumb rubbed circles onto your hip as he entered you inch by inch.  

“You’re doing so good.” He gently said to you and you clenched around him, whimpering in reply. Soon he was seated fully within you and you were breathing rapidly at being so full. Once you were fully used to the stretch, you gave him the go ahead to start moving.  

He started out slow, pumping into you with control. Your body was slowly giving into the pleasure, every thrust feeling better and better. You started to mewl and moan and he went faster, fingers digging into your hip. 

“You’re so big.” You said breathlessly. “It’s so fucking good, yes, fuck me.” You pleaded to him, starting to see stars across your vision. 

The hand that had been leading his cock into you slammed down onto his desk next to your head and you gasped. 

You felt his large frame press onto your back as he bent over to be on top of you and your walls clenched ever tighter around him. He started to drill into you and you could barely catch your breath. To be taken in such of a feral fashion made your eyes roll back into your head. 

“This... is what I was stroking my cock to the other day.” He seductively said down to you, his thrusts unrelenting. “You crying out for my cock while I fuck you like this, after I ate my fill of your sweet pussy.” 

His words alone were about to send you into another orgasm. You cried out again and dug your nails into the wood of his desk. At this point, words were beyond you and you were just a crying, mewling mess. The hand on your hip suddenly moved and he brought it between your body and his desk so he could play with your clit. You started to scream out, your legs shaking violently. It was too much, way too much. The feel of his fingers moving against your clit, the harsh thrusts of his huge cock inside you, the press of his body against you. 

Your vision blacked out for a second and yet another orgasm crashed into you at rapid speed. He picked up his pace, fucking you faster and faster through your orgasm. You were screaming so loud you were sure the whole estate – maybe even the whole island – could hear you but you didn’t care at all. Never in your life had you been fucked like this and you were going to enjoy every second of it. 

You were slowing your rapid breathing down when you realized you had been drooling on his desk. As you were going to lift your head, Katakuri grabbed your waist and brought you up himself so the two of you were standing against the desk.  

“There’s one more thing to this fantasy.” He rumbled out to you, slightly out of breath himself. You couldn’t fathom what else he had in store for you but you were willing to go along with anything at this point. “On your knees, mouth open, tongue out.” He ordered and slipped his cock out of you.  

His words made your whole body shiver and your pussy throb yet again. He stepped away from you and it didn’t take much effort for you to get onto the floor. Your body basically thanked you for doing so. You faced him on your knees and this was the first time you actually got to see his cock. 

Your brain short-circuited as you tried to process how the hell that had fit inside of you.  

What brought you out of your thoughts was his hand stroking his huge cock and you remembered he was waiting. Looking up at him, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue just like he told you to. He groaned and pumped his fist faster.  

This was really what he fantasized about? Holy shit.  

You placed your hands on the floor in-between your spread knees and hefted your chest up, cleavage on display and stuck your ass out, wanting to give him the best view. His face, still half hidden by his scarf, flushed at you doing this and his eyes had a look of desperation in them. His fist went faster and faster until he let out a guttural moan and his cum shot out onto you. 

You closed your eyes as most of it landed on your tongue but some ended up on your cheek and even the top of your breasts. Slowly opening your eyes, you made eye contact with him and then drew your tongue back into your mouth and visibly swallowed.  

“Fuck.”  

It was all Katakuri could mutter after seeing such a display. You tilted your head to the side while still looking up at him, smiling softly but with wicked look in your eye. 

“Was it everything you wanted, my lord?” 

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[chawliekin]

and if I said that dennis’ insistence on being the breadwinner/provider despite literally being a pampered princess who dgaf about traditional roles of masculinity in every other regard (aside from ego) is because his mom only stayed with/chose frank for his wealth and dennis is highly aware that he’s difficult to love and unable to show his emotions openly so he has to be contributing something to the relationship materially in order to feel like he’s worth staying for… and mac grew up with parents who were extremely ambivalent to him and eachother so he has to overcompensate by proving his worth at every given moment and seeking praise/validation from people (and religious icons) who will never demonstrate the same amount of dedication to him but he has no idea how else to desperately keep himself close to those he loves other than by eroding himself into something they’ll approve of… dear god they’re both exactly what the other needs — someone who can’t and won’t leave them even if they try — and they don’t even see it…

[marshmallowgoop]

no thoughts just Heiji Hattori (HD)

[dreamofbecoming]

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)