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#soft eddie munson
italiansteebie · 11 months
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Secret relationship steddie getting through vecna without suspicions from the others until steve hasn’t left eddie’s bedside for a week and he somehow knows wayne munson's phone number from memory and even gets a hug from the man when he enters the room. And he gets to stay when the others are kicked out.
It’s only when eddie wakes up that everything comes out.
He cracks open his eyes, meeting the gazes of dustin, wayne, and robin, but no steve.
“Where’s my baby?” he murmurs, and from the outside it sounds like “where mah beebee.” He watches the faces in front of him turn into something of confusion. “My baby, my baby. I want him.” It comes out clearer, and unfortunately for them wayne understands immediately and unknowingly outs them. “Steve’s off gettin’ some food, he’ll be back in just a minute,” Wayne pats eddie’s hand gently, watching as the kid smiles, eyes drooping once again.
Dustin and robin share a look but they choose to ignore it, maybe wayne heard wrong or eddie is just on too many painkillers.
Until steve walks in, seeing eddie’s eyes, tired, but open. He drops the coffee he’d brought back for wayne and bolts to eddie’s side.
Eddie raises a hand and cups steve’s face, “hey baby.” and for the first time, dustin and robin see steve harrington cry. “I told you-” he pauses to sniffle, “I told you not to be a hero,” his voice cracks, holding back tears. Eddie grabs his hand “‘M still here, baby.” and the dam breaks. Steve is sobbing into eddies chest, while the metalhead runs a weak hand through his hair.
Wayne would deny it with all his heart if anyone asked, but he shed a tear at the display in front of him, he wasn’t sure about steve harrington the first time eddie brought him home, but damn, the kid weaseled his way into his heart. And as touching as the moment was, dustin and robin where still highly confused.
Steve’s tears slowed, and he lifted his head from eddies chest, placing a soft kiss on his lips.
“Uh. Excuse me?” robin broke the silence, and the little world steve had found himself in shattered.
Eddie smiled though, ever the brave. “Me nd stevie are datin’. He’s mah baby.” he ended the sentence by placing a sloppy kiss on steve’s cheek. Dustin was, surprisingly, satisfied with that answer, but robin was not.
“YOU MADE FUN OF ME OVER TAMMY WHEN YOU’RE HERE WITH… HIM?”
Steve blushed, “We had just met when i started at scoops okay! It was really new, i- i didn’t know how to tell you so…. I just decided to be overly supportive by bashing your taste in women.”
This set robin off, and she didn’t stop until a nurse came in and threatened to have her removed from the premises.
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mcdynamite · 1 year
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Steve Harrington learns a lot of things about Eddie Munson in the months following Vecnapocalypse.
He learns who Eddie's favorite bands are and what toppings Eddie likes on his pizza. He learns that Eddie likes to talk, but is also frighteningly observant. He learns what Eddie is like when he's high, when he's drunk, when he's exhausted after weeks of shitty sleep plagued with nightmares. He learns all of these things and more, and he’s surprised to find that he really, really likes what he learns. Because Eddie is weird and loud and quirky, but he's also kind and attentive and the sort of person who just wants to bring a smile to your face when you're hurting, and it's good. 
Eddie is good.
The thing Steve learns that he can't seem to stop thinking about, though, is that Eddie is undoubtedly the most physically affectionate person he's ever met.
It starts in the hospital, less than forty-eight hours after Vecna's defeat, when Eddie wakes up. Steve is on Eddie Duty at the time, keeping watch over a man who hasn't woken up since nearly dying in the Upside Down, when suddenly... Eddie's hand twitches. And Steve does what anyone would do - he scrambles to grab hold of it. He takes Eddie's hand and squeezes, and sure enough, Eddie squeezes back and then he just... won't let go. Eddie’s fingers stay curled around Steve’s even when his eyes flutter open, and the nurses come in to check on him. So Steve holds his hand until the drugs pull Eddie back into slumber, and he doesn't think much of it.
Only, after that, it's like the floodgates have opened. Eddie is touching Steve constantly. He's linking their arms while they walk out of the hospital for the first time. He's sitting so close during movie nights that their legs press against each other. He's resting his head on Steve's shoulder - sometimes even dozing there. Or when Steve is tired, he's pulling Steve towards him so Steve can have a few minutes to close his eyes, secure beneath Eddie’s arm.
It's weird, at first, but it's not uncomfortable. Just... different. So Steve just goes with it.
By the time a few months have passed, he's so used to touching Eddie that it hardly feels like anything more than the natural next step when they eventually start sharing a bed.
They're at Steve's house the first time it happens - loose-limbed and sleepy from the joint they shared earlier with Nancy and Robin. The girls have taken the guest room for themselves, and Eddie doesn't even bother to ask where he's going to be sleeping. He just follows Steve to his room and climbs under the covers beside him - both of them stripped down to just a t-shirt and boxers. Steve doesn't question it, not even when Eddie scoots a little bit closer, eyes wide and searching, and brushes Steve's arm with the backs of his fingers.
"Night, Stevie," Eddie says softly, fingers drifting leisurely back and forth on the skin of Steve's bicep. It feels nice. Soothing. It makes him feel strangely warm inside.
So Steve just smiles, wishes him goodnight in return, and lets himself drift off to sleep.
The second time, they're at Eddie's. Steve has rushed over to the trailer in the middle of the night after receiving a frantic, post-nightmare phone call from Eddie. Steve takes one look at the metalhead’s red-rimmed eyes and trembling bottom lip and pulls him into a crushing hug.
Eddie clings to Steve like he's afraid to let go, and Steve lets him. Eventually, they end up in Eddie's bed, but they still haven't let go of each other. Steve lays on his back and wraps his arms around a trembling Eddie, who pillows his head on Steve's chest. Eddie is wrapped around him like a koala, and Steve thinks it should be weird, being so close to another guy, but it's not. It just feels safe, and he gets the best night's sleep he's had in years when they finally find sleep again.
Then, it just sort of keeps happening.
Sometimes, Steve calls Eddie after a nightmare, and Eddie makes the drive to Loch Nora to cuddle Steve back to sleep. Other times, it's the other way around. Sometimes it's neither, and it's just them making excuses to stay over at each other's houses ("I had a beer, so maybe I shouldn't drive"; "I don't wanna drive home in the rain"; "your place is closer to work anyways").
Eventually, they stop making excuses altogether after the night Eddie looks at Steve in the dim light of the trailer and simply murmurs, "I don't want you to go."
After that, most nights look something like this:
Eddie, wrapped around Steve with his chest to Steve's back, pressed together from head to toe, sharing warmth to fend off the broken limbs and cursed bats that haunt their nightmares.
Steve, running his fingers through Eddie's hair while they wait for sleep to take them - Steve on his back, and Eddie with his head resting on Steve's chest and an arm thrown across Steve's stomach, draped across him protectively.
Eddie, curling towards a trembling Steve after a nightmare, foreheads pressed together while Eddie uses gentle hands to wipe away the tears and murmurs soft comforts until the vice around Steve's lungs loosens its grip.
Steve, spooning Eddie from behind, his own knees tucked into the backs of Eddie's, his face buried in the warm juncture of Eddie's neck, and Eddie's soft curls brushing against Steve's cheeks.
It's just them - Eddie and Steve and Steve and Eddie - in the darkest hours, night after night. Sharing breaths and trading secrets and granting trust until one day, Steve wakes up to the feeling of Eddie's warm body against his own, and Eddie's soft breath on his skin, and he realizes that somewhere along the line, something changed.
Somewhere along the line, between nightmares and secrets and achingly gentle touches, Steve fell in love.
And, God, he's still falling.
Eddie wakes only moments later, rolling over beneath Steve's arm so they're no longer spooning, but facing each other, his big, brown eyes landing on Steve's to fix him with a sleepy smile. It's beautiful. Eddie is beautiful, and Steve can't believe he didn't see it before.
He grants Eddie a smile in return, along with a soft, raspy, "Hi."
Eddie's smile widens. "Hi."
Steve stares at him for a long moment, gaze lingering on Eddie's long lashes, on the freckles that dot Eddie's nose and cheeks, so close now that Steve could count them, if he wanted to. He thinks he probably will, one day. The look in Eddie's eyes is soft and open, and the unabashed love shining through them nearly knocks the air from Steve's lungs.
"Did you know?" Steve asks softly, brushing their noses together. "Did you know that I'm in love with you?"
Steve hears Eddie's breath catch. He watches Eddie's eyes widen. "No," Eddie breathes. "But I hoped. God, I fucking hoped."
Steve swallows as his entire body tingles with emotion. He's so happy he sort of wants to cry. He thinks he might, if Eddie keeps looking at him like that - like Steve is a goddamn miracle. "Yeah?" Steve whispers.
Eddie nods, a wobbly smile forming on his lips. "Yeah, Stevie. Don't know if I would've survived, if it was just me."
Steve can't help himself. He kisses Eddie's forehead, lets his lips linger there for a moment before pulling away. "It's not just you, Eds. Promise."
And that morning, Steve Harrington learns yet another thing about Eddie Munson. He learns how Eddie kisses - like Steve is something beautiful. Precious. Worth taking care of. Like Eddie loves him, and Steve loves Eddie.
Steve learns how Eddie kisses, and he thinks it's probably his favorite thing he's learned yet.
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rainylana · 1 year
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“Something you wanted.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
Summary: you show up to Eddie and Wayne’s with gifts.
Warnings: language, very soft eddie, eddie doesn’t know how to react to presents, some insecurities on his behalf, new relationship with him and the reader. i hope everyone had a great christmas!!<3 okay and also i’m not going to do my taglist anymore because that’s a pain in the ass so sorry for my laziness!!
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“Merry Christmas!” You beamed, lugging in bags of christmas presents in your arms, huffing a breath as you tried to cram yourself in the door.
“Uh- babe,” Eddie helped usher you through the door, eyeing your skeptically. “Why do you look like Santa Clause?”
You chuckled as you dropped your gifts to the floor, face red from the cold. “I look like mrs. clause, thank you very much. You like my skirt?” You twirled your red and white skirt, matched with a red sweater and a santa hat on your head.
“What are you doing here?” He started patting the snow off your shoulders, closing the door to his home. “Thought you’d weren’t coming over till tomorrow.”
“Well tomorrow won’t be christmas anymore!” You smiled, looking around the trailer. “Is Wayne here?”
Eddie gave you another weird look before turning. “Old man! Y/n’s here!” When he looked back you were on the ground shuffling through your gift backs.
“What are those for?”
You paused, looking up at him to give a funny look. “What do you think they’re for? They’re for you guys, dummy! Christmas presents!”
“All of these?!” His eyes widened. “Y/n- no way, you shouldn’t have.”
“I know that.” You chuckled, taking them out one by one at his feet. “But I wanted too.”
“Why is Santa in our living room?” Wayne announced himself, standing in the kitchen with a raised brow.
“Merry Christmas, Wayne!” You waved, sparking off your pearly teeth. “You guys go sit down so I can pass these out!”
Eddie looked to his guardian with confused eyes, not sure what to do. Wayne muttered under his breath as he made his way to the couch, nodding for Eddie to sit down.
“Okay, so I have these labeled.” You crawled over to their feet with two gifts in hand. “Read what it says.” You sat them in their lap.
Eddie was looking at it like it was a ticking time bomb, while Wayne fished out his reading glasses. “Something you need.” His voice came out in a deep hum.
“Are we supposed to open it?” Eddie said confused.
Wayne rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Yeah, Eddie, open it!”
He nodded before both of them started to tear open the paper, and you noticed how Eddie kept looking at you, then to the other gifts you had behind you.
“Underwear?” Eddie raised a brow, holding up a five back of boxers.
“Oh, thank god,” Wayne exhaled. “You’ve been living in those blue checkered ones for three years now.”
“I have not!” Eddie burned red, straightening. “Quit talking, old man, and open you’re shit.”
“Hey, I’m the one who does your laundry, boy, I outta know.”
You giggled behind your teeth, watching as Eddie felt the fabric at the opening, giving you an awkward smile.
“Batteries?” Wayne said skeptically.
“Uh-huh!” You nodded. “Because the last time I was over you were bitching about your flashlight dying with those old batteries, so know you don’t have to bitch!”
“Thank god.” Eddie praised. “Say, thank you, old man.”
Wayne gave his nephew a glare before giving you a grateful nod. “Thanks, kid.”
“You’re welcome.” You nodded back. “Okay, next!” You reached behind you to grab two other gifts, making their jaw drop.
“Y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie furrowed his brows as you placed another gift in his lap. “We don’t need-”
“Something to read.” Wayne read the label on the red paper before tearing it open.
Eddie hurried to catch up.
“Hey, nice,” Wayne chuckled. “Peanuts comics.” He showed to Eddie. Wayne liked to read the comics in the paper before work, especially peanuts and Garfield. “Thanks, doll.”
“No fucking way.” Eddie cursed, revealing a thick, brown book. “You did not.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “Y/n, this is-”
“Not as expensive as you think.” You finished for him, grabbing his calf. “Just look inside, it’s actually pretty cool!”
It was a collectors edition version of The Fellowship of the Ring, maps on the inside, facts of lore and inspiration from the author. Eddie had seen it once in a bookstore in Indianapolis. That was four months ago.
“Pretty cool?” Eddie’s voice rose an octave. “Babe, this is amazing.” He looked over at Wayne, holding up his book as the man smiled at him. “Look away, old man.” Eddie flung his hand toward Wayne as he leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. “Thank you so much.” Eddie allowed himself to smile. “Really, thanks a lot. This is epic.”
You blushed, your heart warming at his own happiness. “Okay last one.” You placed two other gifts in their lap as wrapping paper laid down at their feet.
“Something you wanted.” Eddie read this time, giving you a smile.
Wayne tore into his quickly, making you laugh as he revealed his present. “Now, just how and the hell did you know I wanted this?” Wayne chuckled, holding out his new leather wallet. It was expensive, but they didn’t need to know that.
“I specifically heard you say damn wallet one day when the zipper was stuck.” You smirked, patting his knee.
“New chains!” Eddie squealed that time, nearly jumping in his seat. “Holy shit, thank you!”
You smiled widely, then over to Wayne who looked very proud. “You’re welcome, Ed’s.”
“These will look perfect on my black jeans, don’t you think?” He asked, taking them out of the package.
“Without a doubt.” You tossed off your santa hat, getting hot. “Look right sexy.”
And then Eddie got quiet. Very quiet. Both you and Wayne noticed it, but he was the first to say something. “You okay, bud?”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything, keeping his head down. You tried to find his eyes but couldn’t, chewing on your lip nervously. He had seemed to like everything.
Wayne mentioned something about going out for a smoke, stepping over the wrapping paper and thanking you once more for the gifts.
“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his ankle. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”
Your heart sank when you saw he was crying. “Hey,” you said gently, moving to sit beside him on the couch. “Eddie, what’s wrong? I saved the receipts if you want to exchange them.”
“Exchange them?” Eddie looked at you, eyes tearful and red. “No, y/n, it isn’t that. It’s just…”
This wasn’t normal for him. Wayne and him would give each other something small sure, but someone coming into their home with gifts wasn’t normal. Someone thinking of them for a change wasn’t normal. You should of realized, but it wasn’t your fault. This was your first christmas with him.
“Hey,” You grabbed his red cheeks. “You deserve every little bit of this and more, you hear me?” You wiped his tears with your thumbs. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you. I wanted to do this.”
“I’m sorry,” He shook his head shamefully. “I just..well, I’m not very good at this stuff. I have something for you too, but it’s not near as good as all of this.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, baby.” You shook your head. “That’s not what this is about. I just want you to know how much I care about you, is all. That’s what this time of year is for. Both you and Wayne deserve it.”
Eddie allowed himself to shed one more tear before he buried his face under your chin, pressing his nose against your collar bone. “I love you so much. I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his ear. “Both of you deserve this.”
You could feel his tears slide down your skin, and you held him tightly close, knowing Wayne was outside probably close to freezing to death. When you heard his sniffled stop, you peaked down at him with a smile. “Should we go check on your uncle? He’s probably an ice block by now.”
Eddie chuckled and sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his tears. “Yeah, let’s go check on the old man.”
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jaebeomsbitch · 2 months
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Slow (E.M.)
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Summary: Only Eddie can cure the blues that cling to your skin like he’s balm made for your soul.
A/N: will publish the extended version later, just needed to get this out. Not edited!
Warnings: MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BURNED AT THE STAKE, eating pussy, depression, cursing, making out
You’d been feeling sad for a while, there’s this unexplainable ache in your chest pressing into your ribs until you feel like they’ll almost crack. Eddie sees the way your eyes have dimmed. How could he not? You’d been living together for over a year now but he’s never seen you like this. So quiet, so demure. Yes you were introverted, sometimes having bouts of energy where you won’t shut the fuck up and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The way your eyes light up, you hands moving wildly.
So when you lay in your bed sheets quietly, no book in your hand Eddie looks at you with this sadness in his eyes. It’s not pity, it’s concern. His girlfriend so quiet, so meek, not eating. Fuck his heart aches seeing you like this. He crawls into bed softly asking what’s wrong but you don’t have an answer. You don’t know what’s wrong but this black cloud looms over you like your own personal rain cloud.
Eddie makes the ache better, he takes some of the pressure of your chest especially when he pulls you into his arms. His nose in your hair breathing in your shampoo, pale arms holding you tight as he rubs your back. He brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear whispering “you’re so beautiful.”
You can’t help the way you automatically mewl under his big brown eyes, hiding in his neck like a safe haven. He holds you tighter against him, nuzzling into your hair again.
“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs softly, breath warm against your ear. “I want to see those gorgeous eyes of yours.”
You reluctantly relent, cheeks pink as you slowly look up at your boyfriend. There’s a certain vulnerability in your eyes. He gives you a small smile stroking your cheek with his thumb as he grabs your face.
“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, y’know? I’m here for you no matter what sweetheart.”
“You make me shy when you say stuff like that” you whisper, not trusting you full voice and afraid to break the quietness between you two.
He chuckles softly, the reverberation dancing into your chest straight to your heart. “Then I’ll just have to keep saying it then,” he replies teasingly.
His hands trace gentle patterns on your back, it’s soothing but electric at the same time. Like lightning striking the sea. He leans in close to you, nose ghosting over the bridge of yours as he whispers, “I love you so much, princess.”
“I love you too” you manage to murmur back. It’s like you’re stuck in a trance. Your eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes as he closes the gap. Your lips move against each other in a dance full of love and understanding. Tongues gliding against each other as Eddie strokes your cheek.
“You’re so pretty” you whisper as you pull away from his lips. His cheeks flushed, lips half swollen, big brown eyes boring into yours.
He grins preening at the compliment squeezing you just a little tighter. “So are you, baby” he replies. His thumb stroking your cheek tenderly “you take my breath away,” he whispers pressing a soft peck to your lips. You hum softly, feeling the blues cling to your skin like rainwater but Eddie makes everything better.
He notices the faint hint of sadness still swirling in your eyes despite you trying to hide it, his lips curve into a frown. “Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” He asked gently moving to stroke your hair tenderly. “You don’t have to pretend for me, y’know. I’m here for you, whatever you need”
“I just want to be here in your arms” you whisper
He nods understandingly, pulling you closer against his chest as he holds you tight. He plants a series of soft kisses along your temple and down your cheekbone, his lips lingering on your skin as he tries to convey his love and support through his touch.
"I'm right here," he whispers softly, his words echoing the sentiment of his actions. "You're safe with me, always."
You sniffle, small tears droplets falling into his tattooed skin as you nuzzle into his neck. He wipes away your tears gently with his thumbs, his heart aching at the sight of your distress. "Shh, it's okay," he soothes, rocking you back and forth slightly as he holds you close. "Just let it out, princess. I'm here for you."
“I don’t want to be sad anymore” you whisper, your voice broken. You sound so defeated, you feel like a burden on Eddie.
He kisses your forehead tenderly, his own heart heavy with sympathy for your pain. "I know, baby," he murmurs softly. "And we'll get through this together, okay? You're not alone in this."
He continues to hold you close, offering what comfort he can through his presence and touch. After a few moments, he speaks again, his voice gentle and reassuring.
"Why don't we watch that movie you wanted to see earlier?" he suggests. "Maybe it'll help take your mind off things for a while." You nod but make no effort to move out of his arms. You want nothing but your boyfriend’s warmth and affection.You lay on his chest, legs tangled with his. It’s like he naturally radiates this sense of comfort as he puts on whatever random movie he found.
He feels your body relax in his as you sink further into his embrace. His heartbeat pounding underneath your ear providing a sort of lullaby, lulling you into a peaceful state. He plays with your hair aimlessly just wanting to remind you that he’s right there with you.
“I wish I could sink into you” you whisper unsure if that sounds creepy or not. He smiles down at you, his expression full of love and tenderness. "Me too, baby," he whispers softly, planting a gentle kiss on top of your head. "I never want to let you go."
You trace patterns onto his chest as Eddie pulls the duvet over the two of you knowing how cold you get. The two of you sit like this for a long while until you finally whisper “you make everything better.” You shift your face so you can look at him wanting him to know just how much you appreciate him, that you don’t take him for granted.
He meets your gaze, his own eyes filled with love and something else. "I hope so," he replies softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face tenderly. "Because you mean everything to me, princess."
You lay your head on his chest, your eyelashes fluttering against his T-shirt with every blink. “Baby” you whisper.
“What’s wrong?” He asks softly
“I… I wanna feel connected to you” you whisper, cheeks flushing pink.
He feels a wave of tenderness wash over him at your admission, and he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your head. "We already are, princess," he murmurs softly, his voice thick with emotion. "But if you need something more...well, I'm yours for the taking,” he says with a grin on his lips.
“Please” you whisper.
“S’all I want” you murmur pressing a kiss to the underneath of his jaw. His fingers find your face, thumb slotting under your jaw to bring your lips to his. Your lips move against each other as you shift to make the angle less awkward. Humming softly as the warmth of his kiss spreads through your chest.
His arms wrap around your back as he licks at the seam of your mouth. It’s been a while since the two of you had just made out. He presses his weight on his right side making sure to hold you close as he gently lays you on your back successfully flipping your position.
You pull back panting faintly, Eddie swirls around you. His touch, taste, scent, clouding your vision as he crowds you, the soft sounds of his labored breath singing in your ears as he leans down to press wet open mouthed kisses to your neck. You croon pressing your head into the pillow to bare your neck to his mouth. Your fingers brush through the soft curls on his head, mussing the tight ringlets.
“I love you baby” he whispers, husky voice and all like Smokey whiskey injecting straight into your veins.
“Love you too” you say breathlessly as your head spins in a flurry of tenderness.
His fingers trace over your clothes, “can I take these off sweetheart?” He whispers. His index and thumb pinched on the thin fabric of your pajama bottoms.
“Yes” you nod looking down at your boyfriend. His hair sticking in every direction, veined hands pulling down the soft fabric off your hips, big brown eyes drinking in every single detail of your face. You lift your hips as he drags down your pajamas almost agonizingly slow but you’re not in a rush, not even when the tips of his pinkies hook into your panties bringing them down too.
He’s careful when he removes your clothing off your feet, successfully throwing them into the hamper before looking down. His pupils dilating, pink tongue licking his lips like a man starved seeing his meal for the first time in a while. He lays on his stomach, big hands grabbing the backs of your thighs.
“This okay?” He murmur, eyes flicking up towards yours. He needs your permission, wants desperately to give into your whims and quell the sadness that hangs over you. Not that he can see much of it right now. Not when you’re looking at him through half lidded eyes as your chest rises subtly. You nod letting out a breath trying to calm your racing heart down.
He crawls closer pulling your legs open and groaning as you’re exposed to his hungry gaze. He dips his face forward like he’s smelling freshly cut daises, nose pressed to your pussy. Your fingers curl around the sheets with a sharp gasp, eyes fluttering closed until Eddie asks you to open them. You swallow hard in embarrassment, Eddie always liked maintaining eye contact during intimacy but you’re still left very raw and vulnerable.
“I’m right here baby” he whispers, fingers finding yours in the crumpled sheets, intertwining his much larger hand with yours. Your eyes flutter open at his tenderness, dark pupils finding your matching ones as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. You squeeze his fingers back as a wordless ‘okay.’
His free hand glides through the fabric with a whooshing noise, thumb and index finger opening up your pussy to his gaze. This time he swallows hard, seeing your pussy wet and attentive for him. Your clit glistening in your arousal like a shiny pearl in an open clam.
He dips his face forward, the familiar feeling of his hair tickling your inner thighs already making your heart race but as soon as his tongue flatly traces up your slick entrance you swear you could die and go to heaven. You squeeze his hand tighter as you moan softly, a grin adorning Eddie’s face as soon as he hears it. He’s fucking elated that you’re letting him take care of you when you’ve been feeling this down.
The tip of his tongue swirls expertly around your clit teasingly, your eyebrows knitting together immediately. You sigh that is until, he applies more pressure to your clit. A small noise escapes your throat as you press your head into the pillow again.
“Taste so sweet, baby” his voice husky and low, cool like amber.
“So fucking perfect” he whispers as he lays his tongue flat against your clit, licking continuous stripes over it until he coaxed out those familiar whines from your lips. His tongue finds its way to your entrance, the tip of it working you open until he’s got his tongue inside the bumpy walls, nose brushing against your clit as he tongue fucks you making sure to go slow and gentle. He wants you to feel how much he fucking loves you.
It isn’t long until your thighs are trembling on either side of his head, more whimpers and moans mixed with broken curse words leave from deep in your lungs. They fill the gap, slowly inflating the ache in your chest until the cavity is smooth and your ribs are back in place. Of course you’re not healed for life but Eddie will be there to fill the gap.
You feel so loved, eyes burning with happy tears as your fingers squeeze his tighter. A final breathless moan leaves your parted lips as your back arches off the bed ever so slightly. It is not dramatic, there’s no screaming, no neighbors banging on the door for you to shut up. It’s your body trembling as your fingers tug on the bedsheets, it’s patient and kind and warm. It’s Eddie, it’s you, it’s your love. It’s everything you need.
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flowercrowngods · 5 months
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for prompt tag!
28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)
but also take your time 🫡🫂
in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours
When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 
But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 
Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 
The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.
God, where did Steve even unbury that? 
And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 
Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 
In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 
“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 
“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 
He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 
Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 
They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.
“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 
“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."
Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 
“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 
“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”
Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 
“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 
“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 
“Good?” 
Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 
“And you have a fever.” 
“Hmm. Still.” 
It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 
“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 
“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.
Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 
“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhmm.”
“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 
Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”
“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 
“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”
Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 
It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  
hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶
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peaches-go-rawr · 1 year
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DUSTIN: hey Steve?
STEVE: why are you calling me at work?
DUSTIN: I need someone to pick me up from school, I'm being sent home...
STEVE: what? Why?
DUSTIN: they said that I couldn't be at school if i was only going to pick fights... some asshole was talking trash about you and eddie so-
STEVE: say no more kid... look. Ill have eddie pick you up, I'll talk to the school okay?
DUSTIN: but, your not a parent?
STEVE: You think I care? I'm not your mom for nothing. Now sit tight, Eddie will be there soon.
----
EDDIE: did you at least win the fight
DUSTIN: hell yeah
EDDIE: thats my boy
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knottyk · 2 years
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Home
Pairing: Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader (addressed as mama and papa.)
Words: 1.8k
Summary: You received a call from Eddie during the kids’ bath time, telling you he won’t make it home from tour. That afternoon, you discovered that he lied in the sweetest way.
tags: mom and dad life, silly eddie spawns, domestic life
more ava and hunter
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They said having two kids close in age would be easier. Mom can get things done around the house while the two babies play and accompany one another.
With Eddie constantly on tour, leaving you on your own most of the time, it seemed like a good idea. In theory.
“Ava, please don’t splash. You’ll get soap in your brother’s eyes.” You pleaded for the third time in five minutes. With a towel resting on your left shoulder, you lathered the shampoo on her dark, curly hair. 
Your words, once again, fell on deaf ears as your four-year-old daughter dunked a toy panda under the water and swished it around while squealing, “Whee! Mermaid!” 
Giggling beside her, two-year-old Hunter had his plastic giraffe toy in hand, mirroring his sister’s actions. The harsh splashing of water didn’t seem to faze him and squeals echoed the tiled walls of your bathroom. In the hallway, the sound of the phone ringing interrupted your bath session.
“Mama, phone!” Hunter pointed towards the door, hands dripping in soapy water and falling right on your clothed legs. 
You took his arm and lathered more soap on and you said, “It’s okay.” 
“It’s papa.” He looked longingly at the door, his brown eyes shining against the fluorescent light and the sunlight from the window. Most people said he looked like you but you disagree. 
“Papa will call later. Right now, we need to finish bathing. Okay?” You pinch his cheeks.
Way before having the kids, you and Eddie had already established scheduled phone calls depending on where he was and today’s call wasn’t until around supper. It’s probably some telemarketer looking to sweet talk an unsuspecting customer, you thought.
The ringing had stopped after sometime and the house fell in a deep silence, save for the sound of swashing water and giggles.
“Okay, rinsing time.” You say in a sing-song voice and pull out the plug, letting the water drain as the kids protested softly.
Carrying them out of the tub and into the shower, you rinse the bubbles off and scrub their skin clean until there was no trace of soap left.
Taking the towel off your shoulder, you dry Hunter first who had a finger in his mouth. Before you could get to Ava, the phone rang again.
Against better judgement, you left them standing on the mat to pick up the phone.
“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was raspy and tired on the other end.
“Eddie?” You glimpse at your wrist watch, covered in tiny drops of water. “It’s 9 in the morning, why are you calling so early. Did anything happen? Are you okay?”
He chuckled. “I’m okay. How are the little devils?” 
“Wreaking havoc, as usual.” You laughed and chewed on your lip. You listened to his breathing and you could almost hear him smile.
It took a while before he spoke again. “Listen, the tour’s been pushed til next week. Management thinks we can really pull on this one.”
“Oh.” 
“I’m sorry.” He whispered and you hear shuffling from his end. “I’ll make it up to you and the kids, alright?” 
“No, it’s okay. I understand.” 
With Corroded Coffin making it mainstream, it meant big things for you, Eddie and your little family. It meant having the financial stability his job offered and you having all the time in the world with your children under in a comfortable home.
Though it also meant that Eddie was away from you and the children. You felt bad for him missing the kids’ milestones but he insists it’s okay as long as they have their mother by their side.
“I love you. Kiss them for me, will you?” 
“I will. Love you too.”
With a sigh, you hung the phone back on the wall when the line cut off. You stood in silence for a minute before heading back to the bathroom. Your somber state was quick to vanish and be replaced with horror with the scene in front of you. 
Somehow, Ava had gotten to the bottle of lotion on the shelf by the mirror. Thick layers of cream covered Hunter’s body, some getting on his lips while Ava was still on the process of rubbing it on her skin.
The room reeked of the powdery scent as the bottle laid on the floor, remnants of the cream splattered on the floor as the bottle itself was almost squeezed empty.
“Oh my god, baby what did you do?” It took everything in you not to snap, gasping against the palm on your lips while keeping your voice calm. Between the two of you, Eddie had always been the gentler parent.
Hunter was rubbing circles on his tummy as Ava looked at you with wide, doe eyes. “I helped you, mama. Look, I can take care of Hunter now. I’m a big girl.”
You stepped in and kneeled in front of them, almost slipping in the thin layer of lotion on the floor. You have another thing added to your list of chores today, you thought.
“Thank you, baby.” You remained calm, breathing deep before you spoke. “But next time, you should wait for me, okay? Don’t get these things on your own.” 
She nodded and you started to wipe the excess lotion off their body. 
—————————————————
With tender and soft skin, Ava and Hunter sat on the couch while they watched the TV. 
When you first got the house, you and Eddie had debated about which couch to put in the living room. You’ve gone through so many catalogues and even coordinated it with the accent color of the walls. 
Today, it proved useless as the rich color and patterns were cover with piles of undone laundry. The carpet was littered with all sorts of toys and trailed into the open kitchen. 
With a broom in hand, you stood on the archway. “Ava, Hunter,” you called. “Could you please pick up your toys? Mama needs to clean the floor.”
“Okay!” Ava jumped out of the couch with her brother in tow. You dragged the toy basket in the middle of the floor as they skipped to gather all the toys while you started on the sweeping. 
Some days, having two children was like having ten. You thanked the gods for the cooperative nature they had today because much like their father, they were fond of theatrics and sneaky tactics. You were glad to not have to deal with crying, whining toddlers today. 
Most of the toys had been cleared out when the doorbell rang. Ava and Hunter dropped the toys at hand and raced to the door, footsteps heavy and fast.
You scolded them both not to run and walked behind them. The door knob shook as they grabbed it at the same time and tried to twist it open. You take their hands off the knob and swing the door open.
Behind two stuffed bunnies, Eddie stood with his bags beside him. He moved the bunnies’ heads as he spoke in a high voice. “Are Ava and Hunter home?”
“Papa!” The kids rushed past you and immediately clung to his legs. Ava wrapped her arms and legs around his waist as Hunter made grabby hands while swaying on his feet.
Eddie squatted down to level with them before they tackle him down and made him lose balance. Eddie tickled them with the stuffed bunnies and all three of them were a giggling mes; your heart hurt at the sight. 
The giggles died down and you stepped out with your arms crossed, head tilted slightly and eyes rolling. The kids got off Eddie and ran into the house with their new toys. He stood up and dusted himself off before grinning at you. 
“Sorry, I lied.” He whispered against your ear as he pulled you in by the waist. 
You lightly hit him on the chest and leaned into his touch. Resting your cheek on his ear, he peppered you with light kisses. You closed your eyes and engrave the feeling in your mind. 
“I hate you.” 
“Oh, but you love me.” He leaned back and looked at you, smile never leaving his face. “You told me earlier.” 
You hugged him for a while before ushering him in along with his bags. The kids already talking his ear off with all the activities they had done while he was away. He listened with great enthusiasm and adoration. 
“Did you eat yet?” You asked him as you put away the laundry on the couch. 
He shook his head, his focus never leaving the kids’ chatter. Avan sat on the arm of the couch as she brushed through the bunny’s ear while Hunter sat on Eddie’s lap, occasionally speaking to add to his sister’s stories.
“I haven’t prepared any lunch yet.” You hurriedly gathered all the clothes in one arm and dumped them onto the laundry basket. You were about to leave and put them in your bedroom when Eddie spoke.
“That’s alright, we can order in.” He faced the kids and shouted, “Who wants pizza?” 
They cheered on the couch, Ava giddily jumping on her seat and Hunter copying her. 
“Pizza for lunch, Eddie? That’s, like, against the parenting rulebook.” You joked. 
“Babe, who cares? If anything, that makes us the coolest parents ever.” 
So pizza for lunch it was and by the end, crusts were left on the greasy box and pieces of pepperoni were stuck on bibs and dresses. Ava’s marinara stained mouth and Hunter’s fists closed on the slice of pizza as Eddie snapped a photo with the film camera stored safely in your fond memories.
Once bellies were full and eyelids grew heavy, you set the kids on the couch for their afternoon nap and returned back tot he kitchen to clean up the mess you made. 
You started on the cups when an arm wrapped around your waist. Eddie kissed your hair and rested his chin on your shoulder, taking the dirty cups out of your hands. “I’ll take care of it. You go rest with them, okay? I got this.” 
Without protesting, you nodded and headed back to the living room as he continued what you had just started. 
It didn’t take him long to clear the table and wash what little dishes you had. In no time, he was done and was headed back to the living room where all three of his most loved people laid asleep. 
You were backed up the back rest with an arm extended outwards where Ava and Hunter rested their heads, the two kids embracing one another while they snore softly. 
Eddie took a mental picture of the scene in front of him. He sat by your foot and slowly placed it on his lap, caressing your legs as he laid back and closed his eyes, sighing with content as for once in so long, he was home.
masterlist
okay so this isn't how i envisioned it and it's not my fav that i've ever written but i had to write something or else i'm gonna burst from boredom. kinda rushed and kinda not proofread.
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krazykit · 9 months
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Imagine sitting on Eddie's bed, comfortably propped up and reading your book while rock music plays softly over his radio. He's practicing his guitar at the foot of his bed, gentle strums of the strings filling the air along with the soft music from the radio as you turn the page of your book, the pages making soft riffling sounds. Probably the best reading music ever.
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afewproblems · 1 year
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Give me older Steve and Eddie, in their mid-thirties, an established couple at this point, seeing Lord of the Rings the Fellowship of the Ring in theaters in 2001.
Steve never did get around to reading the books but he loves Eddie and its a movie, so what could go wrong? He liked Star Wars well enough didn't he?
And the intro narrations plays, a woman's voice explaining history and legend in soothing lilting tones as the story begins to play out on the screen. Steve barely touches his popcorn the entire time as he meets Frodo and Gandalf, as Bilbo disappears from his own birthday party and he gives the ring to his oldest friend, as Frodo and Sam make their way to Bree, as the Ring Wraiths chase Frodo and Arwen through the forrests.
Steve grips Eddie's hand tightly as Arwen tells Frodo not to give in, he misses the loving grin that Eddie shoots him before turning back to the screen.
Gandalf falls, Borromir sacrifices himself, Sam tells Frodo he doesn't mean to leave him. That he won't, he can't.
Steve struggles to wipe his face surreptitiously, he still has Eddie's hand gripped in his left while his right is clamped tightly over his mouth, he ends up letting the tears flow freely, it's fine, he's fine.
The last few hours have flown by and the lights come on slowly as Steve sniffles quietly, he swings his right arm across his face roughly and laughs softly as Eddie asks him how he liked it with a small grin.
"It was alright," Steve says with a watery voice, he smiles at the cackle Eddie throws his way. Eddie helps him up and draws him into a long hug, not caring of the people filing out of the rows of seats around them.
"You okay sweetheart?" Eddie murmurs as he pulls away.
Steve nods and sniffs once more before looking up to catch Eddie's eye, "there are two more after this huh?"
Eddie snorts and brings his arm around Steve's shoulders as they begin to follow the last of the stragglers, "Of this story, yeah why?"
Steve shakes his head with a small laugh, "might finally give those books you love so much a peek".
Eddie hums and leans in to press a soft kiss to Steve's temple, "I think we can arrange that".
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italiansteebie · 10 months
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Steve has gone to bed with a lot of people.
he's poured his heart into loving them, holding them close, cuddling in, and willing them not to leave, and maybe that's where he went wrong.
because steve has gone to bed with a lot of people, but he's never woken up with them.
every time, they always find a way to sneak out, slide their way out of his bed, and untangle their fingers from his grasp. and he thinks the ones who leave don't notice that he always wakes up when they leave.
so when he curls into bed with Eddie, he prepares himself for a heartbreak in the morning. only it never comes, because Eddie stayed.
and when he woke up, Eddie's hand was still wrapped around his own.
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tellme-astory · 2 months
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“And Never Let Me Go.” is the second part of the Steddie fic I wrote called “Say It Again For The First Time” which was intended to be a short microfic. I recently reread it and thought, “I gotta give these boys a love scene.” Please take a moment to check it out. Thanks for reading! 💜
The artwork here is again by the lovely @logiedraws . 🤍 ✨
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vvitchwords · 3 months
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Lover, You Should Have Come Over.
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Feat: rockstar!Eddie x ex girlfriend fem!reader
Summary: it's late in Downtown LA and you see your ex
Wordcount: 5k
Includes, but is not limited to: angst & anxiety, some bad habits & vices. Soft acts of care & awkward conversations. This isn't a smutty one, sorry bbs.
Authors note: When writing this I had in mind that one video of Vanessa Hudgens ignoring Austin Butler, the song 'Lover, You Should Have Come Over' by Jeff Buckley and the personal experience of someone walking out without any sort of resolution.
Maybe this was cathartic. I've written some much needed tenderness into it.
   It’s a quick flash of light that catches your attention and pulls your eyes like a magnet to a recognisable set of rings, grazing the small of someone’s back.  A skull, a cross, that fucking hog. In the past, all of them had chafed at your throat when his feverish grasp had been too harsh.
   Not this exact moment but something wildly similar in vibe and sensation has both livened up your dreams and plagued your nightmares for what feels like forever. Yet living it over and over in sleep has barely done anything to prepare you for facing it awake. Eyes open, there’s an ocean of difference.
   Flinching away from the sight of his familiar fingers you use your own to count the years.
One – two – three – four –it’s been five since they’d touched you just like that. You’ve had half a decade to forget their warmth and weight and pressure, but have you? Apparently the jury’s still out. 
   His name ripples towards you through the crowd at the kerbside and you brace yourself. The four syllables almost sound new and you realise just how long it’s been since you’ve said them together, out loud. You’d learnt them in the fall of ‘86 when he was the new boy in town. A born and raised Angelino, you’d shown him around.
   You were the first to take him to the Roxy, the Whisky and the Rainbow. Those places and spaces probably held different meaning for him now, but for you the Sunset Strip was a fucked up treasure map of where you’d fondled, kissed and screwed. Where you’d fallen in love. Where you’d burst into brilliant flames and crumbled into pathetic dust.
   Hands shaking you fumble in your purse with numb fingertips for your pack of smokes. A knee-jerk response you’ve crafted and clung to since fifteen, for whenever you’re feeling vulnerable and exposed.
A lipstick, a compact, a stray mint and a napkin with a phone number you know you’ll never call. No Marlboros. You’d left them in the booth or maybe the bathroom? you question, holding the bag up close to your face and peering desperately inside.
   There are cigarettes at home, you reason with a sigh. Cigarettes and no ex – sounds perfect. You’ll jump in a cab and head back to the Canyon. Push this whole fucking night aside.
Except no.
   In the time you’ve not been watching, you’ve been watched and clocked. Where you’d assumed he was locked into the animated conversation with the lithe and long blonde on his arm, he was not.
   His smile is wonky and hesitant to reach his eyes as he timidly waves with the hand you’d been fixated on.
   You choose between waving or breathing; in this moment you only have capacity for one. Childishly you squeeze your eyes closed with a wish that either you or he disappear. But you’re on a dirty sidewalk in Downtown LA and not inside of a fairy-tale, so neither one of you does.
   In fact, he’s crept closer with the deftness of a seasoned predator approaching his prey. The humour isn’t wasted and unfortunately neither are you - or at least enough to handle this, anyway.  
   “Permission to approach?” He asks, arms cast out to his sides, palms open and fingers fanned. His black button up is buttoned way down, skimming his slim waist and hugging his toned arms. He looks better than you can stand.
   He’s taking your not saying no as a yes and continuing to advance. Small steps but big fucking moves, Eddie Munson, you think. Goddamn.
You submit. “Permission granted.”
   And with this he’s momentarily frozen. He’d expected some push back or resistance, maybe even an expletive. But you’re open, at least a little, and he’s not sure what to do with it.
   “You look –“
   “You look –“
You parrot one another. You laugh and he looks proud, but his face crumples when you stop abruptly.
   “H-how have you been?” He asks stepping closer, peering shyly from beneath his now professionally styled bangs.
It feels reductive, not enough. It collapses the length of time and vastness of distance between you, let alone the intimacy you’d once had.
   “I’ve…been.” You choke out. All of a sudden your clothes are too tight and your heels too high. You feel restricted.
He nods and you both stand silently with the possibility that this might just be it. All you have and all you get before one of you understandably books it.
   The awkwardness feels devastating and destructive and not something to ruminate in for too long. You take a step to the side to peer around him, searching the crowd for the woman he’d been with. But she’s gone.
   “Do you still –“ He’s watching you closely, so catches the way your eyes light up at the Camels he’s waving. He notices the newly formed crinkles at their corners and an ache twists for all the smiles he’s missed.
   “I still.” You admit, giving him a nod as he offers you the packet. You can feel him tracking every movement you make. Those big brown doe eyes jumping from your hands and to your face. Before you can even ask, he’s holding a lighter to the cigarettes’ tip, staring at your lips. “Thank you.” You breathe.
   “Uhuh” He concludes. Taking one for himself and lighting it in a smooth motion you know to be pure muscle memory. You’d watched him do the exact same sequence while reading, while cooking – well, heating – while the two of you lay tangled and breathless in bed, pulsing and sweating.
   “I’ve seen you around.” He professes. The words only a little blurred by the cigarette pinched between his lips.
   “I see you everywhere.” You needle, with a cock of your head. “Americas fucking sweetheart.”
He laughs, a big belly chuckle that bubbles up from his gut and you’re disarmed by his dimples. For a long while it seemed like you couldn’t pick up a magazine without seeing his face, but the expressions photographers would have him pull rarely made use of what you’d always considered to be his Ace.  
 “I think most of America would say that’s Julia Roberts.” He smirks. “But I’ll take it.”
On the back foot, he knows he’d probably take whatever scraps you gave him.
   You’re laser focused on the smoke slowly spilling from the small O of his plump, pink lips and before you can check yourself he sees it, raising an eyebrow.  “Sorry.” You blurt out, unsure exactly what for but at the very least, confident in how it sounds.
   He’s blushing. The Rolling Stone cover star is blushing. “You don’t need to be, darling”
   His tone causes the drag to catch in the very back of your throat, a sting in your nose and you’re smarting.  “I guess people stare at you all the time.” You cough out.
   “I guess.” He shrugs. “But it’s different when you do it. You know me.”
   “I knew you, Eddie.”
   “I’m the same.”
   “I hope not.” You blurt out. Surprised more by the crystalline honesty than the fact you’d said it at all.
He sucks his teeth, his eyes dropping instantly to the ground. “Fair.” He gulps, with a kick of his boot. “I deserve that. Probably a lot more.”
   You literally bite your tongue; pinch it between your teeth, and hard. Your instinct had always been to protect him, but tonight you keep yourself from objecting. Afterall, he was right. He’d been wrong.
   Over his shoulder you catch the eye of a burly man in an expensive looking suit.
   “I think your minder is –“
He’s followed your gaze and when his face whips back around he looks agitated, maybe even a little panicked, by the figure striding towards the two of you with purpose.
   “Fuck.” He curses. Dragging a large hand across his face. He pinches his chin between his thumb and fingers before his dark eyes pop with an idea. “Do you wanna go somewhere?”
   You’ve been wanting to go home.
   “With me.” He stutters, leaping forwards to close the polite gap you’d been keeping. His open palm briefly grazes your bare shoulder. Snatched back when you flinch. “Please. Come with me.”
He watches the flick of your eyes and the jerk of your head as you desperately look around, hoping someone in the crowd will dive in with a perfect excuse. A reason to bolt in the opposite direction.
   “Eddie, I –“
   “Eddie!” Booms a voice over yours. “You need to –“
   “’s not a lot of tiiiiime, Princess.” He pushes from the taut corner of his lips. He looks desperate and you don’t hate it.
   “Okay.” You acquiesce.
   You don’t know who you’re madder at - yourself or him.
You didn’t exactly ask how high when he’d suggested you jump, but you’d said yes to a second location despite wanting to avoid him at all cost at the first one.
   And you don’t just feel mad, you feel dumb. You’ve done the work; you’ve spent time, energy and money that you haven’t always had to distance yourself from the man you’re now trailing behind, in the dark.
   He has his pointer finger raised to the sky and as he turns on his heel for what feels like the fiftieth time you want to snap it clean the fuck off.
   “This way.” He announces with the same confidence he has the last handful of times.
   “Usually when you invite someone somewhere you have a somewhere in mind.” You gripe.
   “Anywhere but there isn’t enough for you?”
You twist your lips, mulling it over. “I’ve had enough.” You offer.
   “You kill me.” He sighs. Dramatically holding his palms over his heart.
   “Don’t tempt me.” You bite. “I could.”
A look passes between you and while he understands you wouldn’t dream of inflicting pain on him now, there had undoubtedly been a period of time where you’d wanted him to hurt. And bad.
   “You wouldn’t dare kill America’s Sweetheart.” He chimes into the awkward silence. “Your words, not mine.”
You’re nodding your head. “I know what I said and I take it back. America’s Sweetheart would have a car service.”
   “Who say’s I don’t?”
   “This.” You throw your arms out wide into the empty streets around you. “This say’s you don’t”
His bravado balks for a second. A nervous twitch of his lip and his shoulders slump. “They’d know where I am.” He murmurs. “And right now, that’s the last thing I want.”
With a slight hunch in his spine and his eyes cast to the ground he looks small and disarmingly nervous. Eddie, without the Munson. He has the aura of an exhausted man not wanting to be found. And you’ve known enough people spat out by the town to understand the crooked dynamic between master and puppet.
   “What exactly did we run from, back there?” You pry, gently.
   “A big announcement.” He grunts. “Big for them, anyway. A solo album.”
His usually bouncy features have darkened and you can see a scowl barely kept at bay as he chomps down on his lower lip.
   “And that isn’t –“ His eyes meet yours and you drop your question. “It isn’t what you want.” You assert with a nod.
He’d always told you he thought best when he was moving and you watch as he spins a clumsy circle on the concrete. His eyebrows are pinched together and his lips quiver with all the words that don’t quite make it.
   “Obviously, I don’t mind being the centre of attention.” He hastily contemplates. “But alone, what am I even at the centre of?” You shrug, not sure if he’s actually looking for your input. “I’ll tell you what!”
   Obviously not.
 “I’ll be at the centre of this fucking circus. I’m the host to these fucking – these parasites that won’t leave me alone. That won’t be happy until I’m completely drained of life and too tired to say no to their bullshit. Be here, Eddie. Say this, Eddie. Do that, Eddie. Don’t do that, Eddie.”
His circle has quickly turned into a spiral and his voice is getting higher and more ragged by the second. “Did you know there are Corroded Coffin air guitar strings? AIR guitar strings. It’s just an empty plastic bag with our fucking picture on it, and they’re selling these. They’re actually –“
   You loop a hand around his wrist and he stops dead.
   “Remember?” You test, opening his palm to face the sky and pressing the tip of his thumb to meet his index finger. “One.” You hum, before guiding him to switch to his middle. “Two.” And to his third. “Three”
   “Four.” He sighs, pressing the nail of his thumb hard into the pad of his little finger.
   “Other hand.”
He takes your command as gospel and you watch the tension release from his jaw with each movement. “Sync it with your breathing.” You instruct softly. “Inhale press, exhale release. Keep counting.”
   He’d called you magic the first time you’d whipped out this exact trick to calm him down before his meeting with Def American back in ’87 and you’d explained your Mom was a hippie, a regularly tripped out Californian one at that. It wasn’t magic, it was just breathing.
   “Thank you.” He whispers. His previously tortured expression turned tender. “What did I ever do without you?”
   “Everything.” You answer plainly. “You’ve done everything.”
His gaze drops once again to the floor.
   “Shit, Sweetheart.” You open your mouth to protest. “You’re bleeding.”
   He drops to a crouch and with a gentle tap of two fingers against your palm, directs you to grip his shoulder. You watch anxiously as he lifts your foot from the ground, one hand beneath the sole and the other on the strap at your ankle. “Why are you even wearing these fucking torture devices?” He asks, his tongue poking out in concentration as he orchestrates bringing your heel to rest on his bent knee.
   “Because to be a woman is to perform, Eddie.” You quip theatrically. Trying to distract yourself from the tingles that coarse through your body as his fingertips make quick work of the silver buckle just below your shin.
   “It looks painful.” He winces, squinting at the raw and ruddy sore spot marking your skin.
Staring down at the top of his head as his curls bob with his motions, you have to remind yourself of just how inappropriate and messy it would be to dig your hands all the way in.
He carefully slides your sandal from your foot and you let it drop to the ground with a soft thump. As he switches his position to study your other shoe you hear him quite literally gulp. The realignment has given him an eyeful that he wasn’t expecting, and he clearly doesn’t know how to cope.
   All of a sudden you’re acutely aware of how intimate a position you’re in. With his knee to the ground and your leg raised his eyes are perfectly in line with your skirts extremely short hem. 
   “Fuck.” You sputter. Pushing away from his shoulder and stumbling sideways in your recoil. “Shit, sorry!” You gasp as you hop on one foot, and the other, still sandal clad, collides heavily with his chin.
   “You fuckin’ kicked me!” He blazes, and your stomach sinks deep down to the sewer until he breaks into a shit-eating grin. “Anywhere but the face.” He howls. Jumping up, arms raised. “Anywhere but the money-maker, Princess. Please.”
You stand facing one another, chests heaving and mouths twitching. You realise that what you hate most about him is that you don’t. At least not anymore.  He takes a big stride forward and you only make the smallest step back.
   “Steady.” He warns, grabbing hold of your elbow as you wobble, wonky between left and right.
And you don’t pull away this time. “If you can find us a phone we can call my  -“
   “Boyfriend?”
   “Roommate.”
   “Roomate.” He repeats, with a nod.
It’s the closest he’ll get to an invite.
   You’d spent years banishing Eddie from your mind and now he’s in your space and he’s looking. You watch his eyes flick from frame to frame on the walls and linger upon the books on the shelves. You feel self-conscious and a little insecure. You’d meticulously made your home an extension of you and the you that you are now isn’t something you’d ever expected to share with him.
   That said, something about Eddie moving hesitantly between and amongst your things makes you smile, and he catches you before you can return your lips to a straight line.
   “What?” He probes, eyebrow cocked.
   “You can sit down, you know.” You reply.
He nods, but he continues to wander.
  “Can I fix you a drink?” You ask. Desperate to do something with your clammy hands besides wring them together.
  “Beer.”  He mumbles, making a beeline for your record player. “A beer would be fine.”
  “Care to share what the fuck is happening?” Your roommate, Maggie, is on you the second you enter the kitchen.   
   “I don’t know what you mean.”
   “I don’t know what you mean.” She mocks in a voice you’d prefer to think has zero in common with your own. She plants her hands dramatically on her hips as you dip to reach into the refrigerator and pull out a six pack of PBR.  “Eddie – fucking – Munson is in our living room is what I mean. What – the fuck – is happening?”
   “We used to…” You catch yourself with just enough time to backtrack. “He’s an old friend. We ran into each other and he needs a night off so please, don’t do this.” You gesture in her general direction.
The roll of her eyes is particularly antagonistic, but she eagerly takes the beer you press against her chest.
   “Clear your schedule for tomorrow night.” She grins, cracking it open and tossing back a clumsy sip. “We’re having dinner and you’re telling me everything.”
   “Mags, I don’t –“
   “Everything.” She repeats, slipping past and pausing in the doorway to throw you an impish grin. “About you and your old friend.”
  You take a second alone in the kitchen to shake out your shoulders, arms and wrists. Bouncing between the heels and balls of your feet you squeeze your eyes shut and count slowly to ten. You aren’t doing anything, you tell yourself. This isn’t anything but beers with an old friend.
   Walking back into the living room you find him boots off, languidly reclined, drumming his fingers against his thighs, and you almost believe it.    
   “This is a nice place.” He doesn’t lift his head from where it rests against the back of the couch but instead regards you from the corner of his eye. Watching carefully as you pad lightly across the shag carpet and flop down opposite, thrusting a PBR towards his hands. “And this, is a shitty beer.” He grins, swiping it.
   “Only the best for America’s Sweetheart.”
   “Quit it with that, would you?”
   “Make me.” It slips out and you think you could die, right here.
   He coughs a little against the ringpull as you recoil. His spare hand instinctively shoots out to grab at the closest part of you – your toes. But you shoo him away, wishing you’d changed into something comfier, more covered. You want nothing more than to pull your knees tight into your chest and hide.
   “I’m sorry.”
   “You don’t need to be.” He breezes, brushing his hand back and forth along his jawline. “Old dynamics.”
   “Old habits.” You add, trying to match his vibe but barely getting there. “Where uh – where are you living these days?”
   “You can ask me questions, you know. I don’t mind.”
   “You might want to – I don’t know – keep things private?”
   “Are you callin’ the tabloids on me?” He teases. “I’ll tell you whatever you like.”
You don’t think you have the balls to ask what you’d really want answering. “I’m in the Hills. An investment.” Making bunny ears with his fingers, he sighs.
   “You’re an investment guy now?”
   “I’m a guy with more money than sense.” He poses. “They hooked me up with a Financial Advisor. I do what he says.”
   “There’s always a they, hey?
You watch as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze falling to the can in his hands.
   “There’s a them, and they rely on me I guess.”
   “I hope you didn’t come here looking for sympathy.” You prickle.
For a split second he looks wounded, but an easy chuckle bubbles from his lips.
   “I came here to spend time with you, Sweetheart.”
It’s your turn to squirm and he catches you blushing as he fixes your eyes with his. “It’s good to see you.”
   “It’s good to see you.” You echo after a breath.
   “You don’t have to say that if it isn’t.”
   “It is.” You take a second to steel yourself, subtly you hope. “You said you’ve seen me around?”
   “Here and there.” He admits vaguely. “Kept my distance though because –“
   “Because?”
   “I’m a fucking coward.” He laughs, but it’s short and weak. “And you hate me.”
   “I don’t hate you, Eddie.”
   “You don’t like me.”
   You shrug before you answer. “I didn’t think I did.”
He traces a triangle with his stare. Your right eye, your lips and then your left. And you flutter deep inside, in a place that’s long been abandoned. It’s a feeling you’d forgotten.
   “Do you remember when we met?”
   “Of course. Leather on the beach.” You tip your can towards him. “You’ve always been different.”
   “No.” He puffs. “I’ve always been stupid.”
You laugh. It’s soft and it creases his dimples deep into his cheeks. “I grew up land locked. I’d never seen anything like it. The ocean, I mean.”
   “I remember how much persuasion it took to make my Dad give you a ride back to Sunset.”
   “Jerry.” He sighs, stretching his name out into a full sentence.
   “He’s more of a fan now than back then, if you can imagine it.”
   “He’s forgiven me?”
   “He doesn’t know what he’d have to forgive.”
He mulls this over and he hangs somewhere between confusion and relief. “It was nobodies business.”
He gestures to the space between the two of you and when you nod he inches closer and then closer again. Instead of collapsing back he twists at the waist, stays rigid, face on. One hand gripping his beer tightly, while the other rubs up and down the coarse fabric of his faded and fraying jeans.
   “I shouldn’t have left.” He spills.
   “You don’t have to do this.”
   “That’s not your decision to make.”
   “We’ve both –“
   “No.” He insists immediately.  A sharp shake of his head and his eyes are back on yours. “Don’t do that. I know what you’re doing and you don’t believe it. Please, just listen.”
You make a point of pursing your lips together, silently urging him to go on.
   “When we first made top ten it felt like overnight I’d gone from fighting for scraps my entire life to being offered everything I’d ever dreamed of. Someone finally believed in the fuckin’ freak from Hawkins and –“
You’re shaking your head in frustration and his hand hovers for a couple of seconds over your knee before bearing down. “No. I know.” He vows quickly, with a squeeze. “Fuck. I know you believed in me; I’m not saying that you didn’t. I just – it was different.”
   He gulps loudly as you brush his hand away from you.
   “I won’t let you do this if you’re just gonna give me a list of excuses.”
   “Baby, I –“
   “I am not your Baby, Eddie.” You whine. Forcing yourself to your feet and retreating to the opposite side of the room. You can’t look at him and so you set your eyes firmly on the view from the window. The dark outline of Maggie’s car in the driveway, the orange flicker of streetlights in the distance. This was a mistake. A huge fucking mistake.
There’s a rustle and a creak of floorboards, heavy footsteps across the floor. His cold fingers tickle at your elbow.
   “I didn’t mean to overstep.” He whispers. Angling for a sturdier grip but you roll your shoulder, lifting your arm from his reach.
   “You’re doing it now!”
   “Okay. Fuck! I’m sorry.”
Standing stock still and silent you notice the tears puddling in the corners of your eyes and you pray to god they just stay that way. Suspended, not falling.
   “I should never have left.”
  “Stop saying that, would you?” You huff in exasperation. “You didn’t leave, Eddie! Not really. You only left me, left our home. You were still everywhere and it made me furious, made me sick. Don’t you get it? Do you still not get it?”
You place your beer down on the sideboard and turn to face him. All of his features are scrunched into a knot in the centre of his face, but his eyes are moving rapidly from side to side as he searches for the words.
“I don’t care about why you left or even that you left anymore. I only care how you did it!”
He freezes.
“I care that after three years you didn’t even give me the grace of a fucking conversation. I didn’t realise that going on tour meant you were never coming home. But it did, and you ran. You turned heel and you ran because apparently that’s what you do.” You’re panting, your chest is heaving and you feel dizzy from gasping for breath between words. “Shit, that’s what we did tonight. You pulled me right back in. I was your accomplice, your enabler, your…You left someone, probably just as confused as I was when you disappeared without a single fucking word as to why.”
   “Robin knows who you are.” His voice is as low as where his eyes have dropped, somewhere between your collar and jaw. And as he speaks his head bobs a little left to right, right to left, back and forth. “And I said goodbye.”
   “Well great for Robin.” You exclaim, mouth before brain. “She got a goodbye, that’s brilliant, that’s… Robin?”
   “Robin.” He nods.
Robin from school. Robin from Hawkins. Robin from home, you list off as he reaches for your wrist and twists, palm open and up to the sky. It takes a moment for you to submit, this is your trick and not his. But you do and he’s whispering, tenderly pressing each of your fingers to thumb.  “One – two – three – four – other hand, Sweetheart.”
   “Five.”
   It’s not cold out but the breeze has a bite that’s bringing you back to your senses. You close your eyes and the chirp of crickets becomes crisp in your ears, steadily drowning out the thrum of your heartbeat. A gentle nudge of his elbow against your side causes you to jump and the ice in the glass to clink.
   “Figured we needed something a little stiffer to drink.”
   “Thanks.” You murmur. For both the whisky he’s pressing into your hand and the blanket he’s wrapping around your shoulders. “Did you –“
He waves his pack of smokes in your direction, answering before you can finish.
    “Here.” He pushes a stick out and you pinch it between your lips. He ignites the tip and you take a long and deep breath in.
   “I think…” You rasp through the sharp smoke. “I think, we should leave the past where it is.”
He’s heavy with the way he collapses down onto the step next to you. He’s nodding but you sense hesitance. You can see a touch of disappointment in the way his mouth twists.
   “I’m saying I forgive you, Eddie. That’s all it is.”
He doesn’t answer immediately, visibly taking a moment to think which is a bit out of sorts for him.
   “That’s very gracious of you. But I’ve found myself a lot harder to forgive.” He admits.
Both of you catch the flap of bat wings above your heads and look up to see two dark blurs dash and disappear amongst the sycamore trees at the yards edge.
   “What’s it they say…” He muses, his adams apple bobbing in the trunk of his neck. “We’re doomed to repeat the history we forget.”
   “Doomed is a little dramatic, Eds.” His smile is small and slight, but it’s there. “I don’t need you to punish yourself for something you can’t change.”
You watch him take a big slug of whisky. His eyes close and his head drops heavy on his neck. He looks exhausted. There are lines etched into his face that you’re only now noticing from the shadows cast by the porch lights.
   “You don’t have to run from the things you don’t want, you know. You just have to figure out what you do and ask.”
He shifts and lifts his gaze to yours.
   “I couldn’t have asked you to –“
   “Not then.” You interrupt. “Now.”
   “I want to kiss you.” He rushes. Throwing his words out there before his inhibitions can force them back down. “I want to kiss you on that kind, clever, compassionate fucking mouth.”
You’re nodding in time with the alarm bells. Edge closer into him as your inner voices scream.
   “Can I kiss you?” He asks, plucking the cigarette from your hand and flicking it into the distance.
His eyes on yours and your lips aligned it barely makes it past your teeth, “Please.”
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80sgothicslut · 3 months
Text
Just imagine, you and Eddie little summer sleepover in the back of the van parked somewhere near lovers lake. Watching the stars, listening to the chirps of the crickets. Eddie’s boom box playing music when finally planet caravan by black sabbath comes on. He pulls you closer under the soft flannel blanket you both are cuddled under. Tucks a strand of hair behind your ear
“I love you sweetheart” he murmurs softly and presses a soft kiss to your forehead as your eyes flutter shut falling asleep in his arms.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 5 months
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Eddie helps when you get sick.
Warnings: Kinda mean Eddie at the start, then Soft Eddie, fluff, comfort. ♥️
♥️
Today had been awful, not only had you gotten into an argument with your boyfriend Eddie, he was planning for Hellfire and putting every bit of his attention into his campaign.
Knowing how passionate he was about it was one of the things you loved about him, however this particular campaign was his first since all the shit occurred in the Upside Down.
With Vecna dead and The Mindflayer and Upside Down gone, the boys were all looking forward to just having some time to have fun and Eddie's campaign was one of the things they were looking forward to.
Due to the fact Autumn was in full swing and the nights were getting chillier, some of the town was coming down with the flu.
The flu which you were now sure you were catching as well and that's how the argument between you and Eddie started.
You wanted to go home and asked Eddie to drive you as you hadn't gotten your own car yet.
"Jesus h christ. This is my big return as DM you know that princess! How can I leave when I'm almost finished planning for it. It's in four hours"
You grow annoyed but try not to show it and attempt to still be civil.
"Eddie, I told you I think I'm getting sick. It will only take a few moments" he scowls and he actually rolls his eyes.
"Sweetheart, I'm sure you're fine" you sigh and tug his arm. You were feeling very off, a slight temperature, the sniffles and a headache that was growing more annoying by the minute, not to mention the achy bones and sick feeling.
"But Eddie..." he spins around to look at you, his forehead creasing in anger and brown eyes flashing in frustration.
"Princess, will you stop for a fucking second" he snaps and you rear back from his pissed off stance feeling heat creep up your cheeks.
Determined not to cry you turn away and gather you jacket and bag. "Fine. I'll just walk home"
When you leave and Eddie doesn't follow you it makes your heart ache and you walk quickly away from his trailer.
♥️
By six you were feeling even worse, fever rising and chills racking your body. Hellfire was starting and yet you couldnt move your body to get up for some water, let alone go to Hellfire.
What would Eddie think? He hated anyone missing Hellfire and you had that argument, the sick feeling in your stomach intensifies and you take deep breaths to calm down.
The fever increases even more and you wish Eddie was here. The ache in your heart doesn't fade even when you fall into an uneasy sleep.
♥️
At first Eddie was too annoyed to follow you out, then as the day went on and Hellfire began his mood worsened.
His big campaign was incredible but you weren't there to see it. After a while anxiety replaced his annoyance.
Not seeing you at Hellfire filled Eddie with worry, you never missed a meeting or a campaign and he was already feeling shitty from your argument.
He was a dickhead and should have just drove you home. What if you weren't speaking to him for good and wanted to break up?
Dread fills his stomach and the first thing he does after Hellfire ends is rush to his van so he can see you.
♥️
He knocks on your door and grows panicked when you don't answer, he tries to remember where the spare key is and finds it in one of the hanging baskets you loved filling with pretty flowers.
Letting himself in to the house he expects to find you on the sofa watching tv, anxiety gnaws at his insides when he doesn't see you and he rushes to your bedroom.
You're cuddled up under your blankets and he rests on the bed beside you. Shit you were burning up. How long had you been this sick.
Eddie strokes your hair. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead. He was kicking himself for being so snappish with you and not listening when you told him that you were feeling shitty.
The kiss wakes you up and your throat is all crackly, he can barely hear you.
"Eddie?"
"Hey princess. Fuck have you felt like this all day?" you nod weakly and he feels even more of an asshole.
"I'm sorry for snapping princess. Fuck, I should have realised that you were really sick" you cuddle up to him and he holds you close.
"Hellfire" is all you say and he rubs your back soothingly.
"Yeah, you're more important sweetheart. I'm so fucking sorry I didn't act like it. Don't worry, I'm here now and I'll look after you princess"
The only person he's looked after while sick is himself and Uncle Wayne but he knows to make soup, he helps you get into a hot bath to help your achy muscles.
You're all pouty and it tugs at his heartstrings, your pout was his weakness...though in all honesty you were his weakness.
You complain that he'll get sick too but he doesn't give a fuck and continues to help you.
He gets you flu meds and lays with you as you doze off. By the time night falls and he's getting ready to snuggle down with you and sleep, your fever breaks and you seem a lot better.
"If I get sick babe then maybe you can reuse that sexy nurse outfit from Halloween and look after me huh?" he waggles his eyebrows teasing you and you giggle a little.
When he came out of hospital after surviving the demobat attack you were with him every night, through the nightmares, the pain, everything. He wanted to do this for you.
"Thank you for looking after me Eddie" you murmur and press a kiss to his cheek. He responds by kissing your forehead.
"I'll aways look after you princess, always"
♥️
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peaches-go-rawr · 1 year
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MIKE: why do you hug Dustin?
STEVE: cuz, he's my kid?
MIKE: dudes don't hug other dudes steve, that's weird
STEVE: oh... erm-
DUSTIN: *hugs Steve tightly* If you stop hugging me I will rain mayhem upon you
STEVE: Jesus kid, fine I won't stop you nerd!
MIKE: but-
EDDIE: shut up Mike.
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sideblogofthcentury · 8 months
Text
Consider:
The very next day after Steve and Eddie get their own place, Eddie brings home a dog.
Eddie says she’s 7 and she only had three days left and she’s so gentle and he’d always wanted a dog but Wayne was allergic and look at her little grey snoot and-
And so they had a dog.
They agreed on Zeppelin after a week and a half.
And one day, the dog was nibbling at Steve’s plants again, and he rolled up the newspaper in his hand and started shooing Zeppelin away, and from behind him he hears a very dramatic gasp.
“Steven? Did you just hit my daughter????”
“No, Eds, I just waved it towards her to-“
“STEVEN. are you a PUPPY HITTER???”
“Wh- No, Eddie, Absolutely not! She was eating my Pothos and I shooed her away, I didn’t even touch her!”
Eddie turns to where Zeppelin is watching the altercation.
“My Zippy baby,, come here, come here child.”
Eddie cradles Zeppelin on the floor, wrapping his arms around her gently, like she’s wounded.
“My dear Zippiest of the Epplins, Queen of these lands. Did your papá strike thee with the scroll of this day?”
Steve still swears to this day that his eyes have never rolled so far back in his life.
“Ah yes my poor child I see. His cruelty has wounded your precious soul. He shall be burnt at the stake on the morrow.”
“Eds, c’mon. I’m no puppy hitter.”
Eddie looked deep into Zeppelin’s eyes, nodding his head.
“Mmhm. Mmm, mhm. Okay. Steve, she’s willing to settle without trial.”
Steve sighed, but played along, getting down to eye level with little Zeppelin.
“Zeppelina, princess of the sky, light of my heart. I am terribly sorry for my horrible crime of waving the newspaper within a foot and a half of your body. Will you forgive me?”
Zeppelin kissed Steve’s nose.
Eddie cheered.
_______________________
Also consider:
-Steve cross-stitches a pillow that says “no puppy hitters allowed”
-Eddie brings home a cat a few months later, who swatted at Zeppelin once and got put in air jail for her crimes. They had to teach her the house rule, and her and Zeppelin have been pals ever since.
-One of Eddie’s sound guy friends pops Zeppelin on the nose during a party and they ask him to leave.
-Robin is Zeppelin and Luci (the cat)’s godparent. She has been sworn to uphold the “no puppy hitter” commandment. She has added a clause granting her the legal right to strike anyone who striketh the puppy (or kitty) using the same amount of force, or greater. Steve said it would not hold up in court. Robin doesn’t care.
-Dustin pulls the “she’s not a puppy she’s technically a senior dog” bullshit and everyone in the room boos and throws paper balls at him
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