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#short sweet thing
beanghostprincess · 7 months
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nami tells usopp that sanji has a crush on him (only does so because she's tired of the two of them dancing around each other for weeks) but usopp doesn't believe her because: "pfft. first of all, not a girl. second of all, he doesn't like boys. and third, have you seen the way he behaves when he's crushing on somebody? like- the way he looks at you."
"first of all, i think he knows that very well. second of all, he obviously likes men. and third...
that's because he can act like himself around you, dumbass. doesn't need all that prince, gentleman act."
that does something to usopp. the smiles. the laughing. the fact that he doesn't bring food to usopp but he's always asking him to taste his new recipes first. the way sanji always protects him.
and it kind of makes sense, right?
sanji smiles at him from the stairs on the other side of the deck. he's sitting down, smoking, knees close to his chest. he almost looks shy after a few seconds of staring at usopp.
the sniper has to look away or else he feels he'll probably die.
nami nudges him in the arm, raising her eyebrows.
he hates that she's always right.
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sunsetsimon · 2 months
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more random simon headcanons <3
☼ his favorite colors are black, blue, and grey. his personal style is very plain, black hoodies, white tee's, and black sweatpants are his go to. simon doesn't want to stand out any more than he already does with his large frame, so he opts for comfort over style.
☼ simon is very helpful around the house, constantly tidying up and fixing anything with a problem. he has no issue doing the dishes or folding the laundry, but for some reason he hates sweeping and mopping? you don't get it, it's not an intense or demanding chore, but simon claims that "it's too boring" and he'd rather trade something else with you. it becomes an agreement for him to do most things in the room, and then you come in after to finish with a quick sweep and mop.
☼ he's extremely low maintenance. he always buys the cheapest products he sees, opting for a basic body wash and 2 in 1 shampoo/conditioner. when you first started dating, he didn't even own a proper face wash, using the bar of soap from his shower. simon isn't the type to have a whole routine, but he does pay more attention to the things he purchases so he can impress you with a new scented body wash or a moisturizer you'd mentioned.
one of his favorite gifts to ever receive from you is a bottle of cologne, loving the way you're drawn to him every time he gives himself a spritz. now every christmas he asks you to get him a new one that you'd like him to wear!
☼ cannot handle spice for the life of him. we all know that foods in the UK are usually seasoned with just salt and pepper, and not commonly spicy, so he's sensitive to it. something you may consider mild will have him breaking into a sweat and chugging down a bottle of water to ease some of the burn. his cheeks get flushed red and he just shakes his head in pain, reminding himself to never trust you when you say "oh it's not that spicy!" ever again.
☼ he has the lowest screen time, averaging about 20-30 minutes a day, and that time is spent either texting/calling you, taking photos of you, looking through photos of you, or making lists for you. the only extra app he has downloaded is goodreads, and even then you were the one that downloaded it and created his account. his passcode is set as your birthday too of course.
he's a little obsessed.
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grey-sides · 4 months
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On a Monday morning, Steve's dad frowns at his paper and throws Steve a sidelong glance. On the entertainment page is a black and white photo of Bruce Springsteen kissing Clarence Clemons.
Steve swallows his toast and shifts in his seat. But his father doesn't say a thing and Steve doesn't know where to begin. He's not asked to get rid of his Springsteen tapes. But he does find the paper later, tossed on the pile to go in the trash and clips out the picture.
It's not the first time he's seen this exact scenario with Bruce Springsteen. But it is the first time in a long time he's been interested in doing it himself.
He tucks the paper clipping away in a book under his bed. And he thinks about the cash he has saved up and how much longer Robin has to be in school for.
On a Friday evening, he fixes his hair and kisses his mom's cheek on his way out the door. The newspaper clipping under his bed is delicately frayed already, the thin paper worn thinner by his eager fingers.
He picks Robin up, waves to her mom and drives them just outside of town. Eddie's van is already there, quiet and dark because he and his band are already inside.
On a Friday night, Steve tucks into a beer and looks up at the stage. He smiles despite himself and thinks of Bruce and Clarence when Eddie and Jeff lean into the microphone together.
His palms sweat and he presses them to his bottle. The edges of the label are peeling like the newspaper clipping. He taps his toe to the music and smiles wider when a woman takes Robin by the hand to show her how to rock out.
On an early Saturday morning, so early Steve would call it late, he helps Eddie put the instruments away in the back of the van. He watches as Eddie stacks each piece carefully and curses when a cymbal crashes against an amp.
And he thinks about his newspaper and the judgement in his dad's eyes. He twirls his keyring around his finger and thinks of another life where he kept up with his piano lessons instead of baseball.
On an early Saturday morning, Steve closes the van doors just enough to block people from seeing them and he pulls Eddie close. And he wonders what it would be like to do on a stage.
And Eddie is not Clarence Clemons and he is not Bruce Springsteen. But his heart still races and his palms still sweat, and he knows he could bellow out of his lungs with joy if he was standing in front of a crowd.
And later still on that early Saturday morning, Steve feels the calluses of Eddie's guitar worn fingers on his cheek. And he listens to his halfway to hoarse voice tell a story. And he tastes cheap beer and song lyrics on his lips. And he thinks next Saturday, he might join Robin dancing in the dark of the bar.
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bleedingoptimism · 1 month
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"I dreamt we had sex" Steve says out of nowhere, making Eddie choke and cough up a cloud of smoke from the joint that had just been handed to him.
"Wh- Huh?" is all he manages to say.
"It's stupid," Steve laughs not looking at him. Eddie deflates a little, but Steve keeps going, "Just as I was about to cum, I woke up," he says and then looks up at Eddie.
Who is blushing, very confused, and very horny.
"Do you know what that means?" Steve asks with a crooked smile.
Eddie shakes his head and sits up straight, dying to know the answer.
Steve's smile grows, "It means you are attracted to me" he declares.
And Eddie feels his blush intensify, he feels like he's been caught. Like he's being made fun of. He looks at his knees, where his hands are twisting the fabric of his sweats, and then looks up at Steve.
"It doesn't" he whispers in vain because it's obvious and too late to lie about now.
"Yes, yes, it does mean that," Steve whispers back, scooting closer on the couch they are sharing. His smile looks less amused and more kind now, soft and careful.
"I'm attracted to you," he says and Eddie's eyes go wide. He feels the heat coming off his face as Steve moves a little closer, hand going up to touch Eddie's red and hot cheek but stops a breath away, "And you are attracted to me but since you don't want to tell me," he pauses to smile because Eddie moves his face closer to Steve's hands, finally making contact and nuzzling into it, "You come into my dreams to tell me anyways."
☕🥐💕 coffee? dream stories?
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alleiwentcrazy · 1 year
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Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.
It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.
Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.
There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.
Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?
There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)
When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.
It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.
Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.
He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.
Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.
Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.
“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”
“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”
“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”
“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”
Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”
“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.
“Okay, then walk me through it.”
“What?”
“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”
“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”
“Because you’re scared.”
Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”
“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.
“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”
Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.
“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”
“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”
Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.
Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.
*
Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.
Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.
Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.
Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.
Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.
He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.
Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.
He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.
Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.
“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”
“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.
“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”
In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.
“How did you—”
Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”
Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.
“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?
“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?
“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”
Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.
“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”
So, so much.
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m3talmunson · 1 year
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It started with babes. Babes is completely platonic right? Nothing out of the ordinary there. Eddie was known for being over dramatic, why would nicknames -or in this case, pet names- be any different?
Babes wasn't even that over the top, so why was Steve blushing like a school girl after it was said in passing?
Steve definitely knew why, although, he was going to pretend he didn't. But he knew, about himself, about Eddie. A couple months after spring break '86 Steve had a very enlightening talk with Robin about his feelings. Towards Munson. Those completely and totally platonic feelings.
And a couple weeks later, as though Eddie was so in tune with Steve's discovery, Eddie came out to Steve at a campfire with Robin and Nance. Those two had wandered off, Eddie made some comment about "Good for Robs," before realizing his mistake. That was, until Steve said "Yeah, good for Robs," and Eddie just had to ask.
"You know about her? Y'know..."
"What? Eddie? Of course! She's my best friend."
"And you're ok with it?" Eddie was kind of shocked. Great 'King' Steve wasn't going to sick the dogs on Hawkins Local Lesbian? And it seemed like he had known longer than Eddie?
"Yeah, when you survive hell and back enough it's pretty hard to hate anyone for being gay." Steve left off the part where he was also into guys. He knew Eddie was ok with that, clearly ok with Robin, but Eddie might not be ok with being the guy Steve was into.
"Oh. Well," Eddie didn't know if it was the couple beers he had downed, or his newfound safety with this big ol' group of misfits, but he was comfortable asking Steve, "What if I was like Robin too?"
"Are you?" Steve asked. He wasn't going to get his hopes up over hypotheticals, but he could admit he had feelings for the older boy. He wasn't sure what feelings to be honest,but he was figuring that out as he went. He just knew they were more than platonic.
"Well, technically I'm the opposite of Robin, y'know. Not attracted to women. But yeah, I am." Eddie stared into the camp fire, torn between hoping that it would eat him alive, or that it would simply stare back.
"Okay, thanks for trusting me." Steve responded, plain as day.
He had asked Robin, if someone were to come out to him (granted they were not just drugged by Russians), what would she have wanted to hear. And he finally got the chance to use it, seeing the way Eddie's shoulders dropped in relief.
"So you're like actually ok with it?"
"Like I said, been to hell and back with you, who you love doesn't mean a thing over that."
" Yeah," Eddie said,"But most straight guys don't like it when gay guys flirt relentlessly with them."
"We'll keep that one between us then, won't we?" Steve wasn't entirely ready to correct Eddie on the straight thing, so he just didn't acknowledge that part. He chose to ignore the blush rise on his face, blaming it internally on the heat of the fire.
He also tried to ignore that at that point, the nicknames picked up.
It started with babes. Then baby, which made Steve's brain flutter. Then sweetheart. Eddie only used that one when he wanted something, and yet Steve still loved it. Stevie was one of the fan favorites. Not really a pet name, but used just as lovingly as one. Sometimes Eddie held out the end, in a sing-song voice. Made Steve weak in the knees. Eddie knew what he was doing.
It was babe that made Steve do something about it. Eddie used sweetheart, baby, Stevie, around everyone. In front of the kids, on his various trips to Family Video (whether to buy or annoy, who knew). But babe. Babe was just for Steve and Steve alone.
So of course, the only logical order of events was for Steve to start using them back.
It started with babe, the obvious choice. Fight fire with fire, or whatever. The meaningless pet names ended with babes too.
Because after Eddie kissed Steve to shut him up, they suddenly had meaning.
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vynnyal · 5 months
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OK, fair warning to the few people I actually managed to convince to try the game??
Rain world does NOT play like hollow knight, and you'll get your butt kicked if you approach it like that.
It's really hard. Like, really hard. Instead of the game literally giving you abilities in the form of power-ups and damage buffs, the only abilities you gain is from what you learn and your own ingenuity. You're a rat from beginning to end. If you just beef your way through it, it's gonna suck and you're gonna be confused and frustrated all the time. But if you pay attention, take it slow, and learn how the ai works and how everything interacts with each other, you can consistently get through and dominate situations you thought were impossible to do so when you first began. Now get out there, kill some lizards, and bully some old computers!
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lovelylinnn · 3 months
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steve uses the non-verbal safeword.
CW: slight NSFW, panic/anxiety attack, harmful stims (scratching self)
“tap three times on me if you ever can’t speak and wanna stop, okay?”
yes, steve had remembered those words. all throughout the times they had sex, he remembered those words. but it didn’t make them any less scary.
the thought of ever needing to stop in the middle of a scene made his palms sweat. of course he and eddie trusted each other; knew that if the other was in trouble and needed to stop, they’d completely understand. no judging whatsoever.
but still… absolutely needing to stop and move on made him so anxious. deep down he didn’t want to be a disappointment. he didn’t want eddie upset.
“baby, what’s your color?” eddie murmured to him, rubbing his shoulders and slowing his rhythm. steve did not reply, shakily breathing into the pillow and tearing up.
“steve, color?” he asked, louder, and more firm. yet he could not bring himself to talk. his mind went to the other times in previous relationships, where he felt like this exactly, and they didn’t even think to check in. and he couldn’t bring himself to stop them.
he could feel eddie shift, basically ready to pull out, before he asked again, “steven.”
oh. his full name. eddie only used it when he was deadly serious. this seemed to snap him out of his haze, and he shakily reached behind him and found somewhere on his body to tap.
one. two. three soft and hesitant taps, just like eddie told him to do months ago.
“red,” eddie mumbled to himself, worried, and pulling out immediately. he flipped steve over, pulling him close and cupping his tear-stained cheeks.
“what’s wrong? what can i do?” he asked softly, searching his eyes.
“i- i don’t know,” he choked out, a heavy sob leaving his lips before gulping down air he felt like was leaving his body too fast.
“that’s okay, just breathe. breathe, steve, okay? c’mere,” he pulled him into his lap, his head in his neck as he continued to cry. eddie ran his fingers through his hair, and steve clutched onto him tight.
“deep and slow breaths,” he told him, and steve was doing the opposite. breathing way too fast and inhaling far too much, to the point his chest and stomach hurt and he began to feel dizzy.
“steven, listen to me,” there it was again, the full name, which brought him somewhat back to his senses, “deep, slow breaths. do it with me.”
and he tried. he breathed with eddie, taking in some air and blowing it out too fast before inhaling sharply again; coughing and sobbing.
“there, that’s it. it’s okay baby, just try again.”
steve only wanted to cry more. of course eddie was congratulating him even after he didn’t even do it.
“again,” he told him, beginning to inhale slowly, holding it, and exhaling slowly. steve followed, better this time, but still failing.
“i- i can’t,” he choked out.
“yes you can, do it with me,” he said, inhaling and exhaling again. steve followed, his hand going to his forearm, clawing to try and ground himself more.
“no,” eddie caught his arm, pulling it away and bringing it up to his chest, “do you remember what your therapist said?”
“he said,” he paused, his breath catching in his throat as he cried, “to find a different way to ground myself.”
“correct. now, just feel my heart. i’m right here, steve. i’m not leaving. try and match your heartbeat to mine,”
steve kept his hand flat against eddie’s chest, then did the same for himself. he could feel how fast his heart was going versus eddie’s, and it made him uncomfortable.
the other rubbed his back, and kept one hand running through his hair, breathing slow and deep and watched as steve tried to do the same.
“good job,” he praised, kissing his cheek. the pair’s breathing pattern was now the same, and steve was no longer crying. steve nodded as thanks, crawling off eddie’s lap and under the blankets, curling up. eddie stood to put his underwear and sweats back on, only to sit back down on the bed and run his fingers through steve’s hair again.
“do you want to talk about it?”
steve sighed shakily and shrugged, wiping his red cheeks.
“just started thinking,” he mumbled.
“about?”
“things in previous relationships. and then i started feeling like i was crawling in my own skin, and i started to panic,”
“what about your previous relationships?” he questioned, only curiously, with no mean intent.
steve let out a quick exhale before sitting up, “how i could never really say no, i guess? i know it doesn’t matter now. i trust you. and i started feeling overwhelmed in the first place, so i started thinking about the safe word, and how you told me to say ‘red’ or tap you three times. but it just made me anxious. i knew i needed to stop but i didn’t want to upset you in the process,”
“you could never upset me over something like that, steve, okay? that’s the point of the taps and the system we have. you know your limits, and in case they’re ever pushed, you do or say so. i’m so proud of you for using it,”
eddie pulled steve in for a hug, rubbing his back softly. steve’s heart kind of broke. here he was, in his boyfriend’s arms starting to cry again because he said he was proud of him. proud of him for something as simple as saying no, and stop. something he never thought he could do; something he was taught was wrong, and his boyfriend was praising him for it.
“i’m proud of you,” he repeated, to which steve only cried harder, nodding in his shoulder as thanks and sniffling.
he pulled back, laying down and wiping his face again.
“i’m gonna go bring you some water and some easy food to eat, okay? just stay there,” he smiled, getting up and heading to the kitchen.
steve smiled softly, getting comfortable under the warm blankets and inhaling the familiar scent of gain and eddie’s cheap cologne.
and he thanked the universe for a boyfriend that was actually a decent human being.
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steddieasitgoes · 10 months
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Their dining room table has been taken over by thousands of tiny little beads and elastic in different colors. 
Steve sits opposite their sixteen-year-old daughter, a thin elastic band clutched in one hand and an assortment of approved beads laid out in front of him. He picks up a small purple crystal-like bead and tries to feed the elastic through the minuscule hole. 
“Christ, why isn’t this hole bigger,” he groans, squinting as he tries for the third time to thread the bead onto the elastic. 
“Aw, but I thought you liked tight holes, sweetheart,” Eddie teases, sauntering into the room. 
Their daughter pretends to retch before turning up the Taylor Swift song playing from her phone, hoping to drown them out. It doesn’t matter that they have a state-of-the-art stereo system in the other room that sounds a thousand times better than the shit speakers in her phone. She likes the convenience. 
Steve, on the other hand, glares playfully at Eddie. “Seriously, not in front of our daughter.” 
“Oh, please, don’t pretend she doesn’t know things.” 
“I mean, yeah, but she doesn’t need to know things about us.” 
“I really don’t,” their daughter agrees. 
Eddie laughs before collapsing onto the seat beside Steve. Assessing the beads in front of him, Eddie collects a few and gets to work. 
“Hey,” Steve whines, swatting Eddie’s hand away when he tries to steal one of his beads. “These are mine. You didn’t even get her approval.” 
Eddie scoffs. “I don’t need her approval. She trusts me, right bug?” 
Their daughter rolls her eyes, but nods. Eddie hoots victoriously before going back to his own bracelet. Steve shares a look of amusement with their daughter. One that says it’s better to let Eddie think he won than try to give him a set of rules to play by. 
Many things have changed about Eddie over the years, but one thing that has remained the same is his disdain for other people’s rules — even if the rules are coming from his daughter. 
When Steve tries to take a peek at what Eddie is working on a moment later, he gets a swift elbow to the ribs. “No peaking!” 
Shaking his head, Steve gets back to his own bracelets. It’s a lot easier threading the beads when he grabs his glasses from the bedroom and he manages to finish two daughter-approved bracelets in the time it takes Eddie to finish whatever he’s been working on. 
“Are you ready to see the best bracelet ever?” he asks, standing up with all the dramatics he had when he was thirty years younger. 
Steve and their daughter nod, setting aside their own bracelets to look at Eddie’s creation. 
A rainbow of beads, all different shapes and sizes surround a group of block letter beads that reads: Fuck Ticketmaster. 
Steve laughs while their daughter smirks, shaking her head. 
“It’s not a Taylor lyric, but I appreciate the sentiment.” 
“Our bank account definitely agrees.” 
“So will the Swifties, you’ll see!” Eddie says, reaching for another random set of beads to start another bracelet.  
The three of them spend the rest of the afternoon making friendship bracelets. Well, Steve and their daughter do. Eddie continues making “Fuck Ticketmaster” and various other obscure and random bracelets. The highlights of which include a red beaded monstrosity with the word “scarf” on it and one that just says "Olive Garden."
Unfortunately for Steve and their daughter, Eddie’s unhinged bracelets are the biggest hit at the concert. He ends up trading all his bracelets before they even get into the stadium. 
He doesn’t let them live it down, proclaiming himself the King of Friendship bracelets. 
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caelanglang · 1 year
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itadakimasu . gochisousamadesu .
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eddiesghxst · 8 months
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PRICE OF FAME (PART 4/12)
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AHHH HERE WE GO, ENJOY!!!
————
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader
summary: wayne is in town and eddie thinks he kind of hates you... maybe
contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, scary and sticky feelings, king richie being king richie, and eddie thinks you taste sweet <3
word count: 3.8k
| previous part | next part |
| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |
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Eddie’s going insane, he thinks.
There’s something wrong with him. Something seriously wrong.
It’s been two days since Eddie slept in your room. Forty-eight hours have passed since you so graciously offered him the peace and solace of your extra hotel bed, and Eddie has yet to stop thinking about you.
The morning after sleeping in your room, Eddie snuck out as quietly as possible to avoid any awkward conversation, even if nothing was particularly awkward about the situation. He didn’t want to have to thank you for letting him stay with you, and he knew that if he’d waited until you woke up, he would have to thank you. So, he escaped first thing in the morning, as any avoidant and coward-like person would do.
He spent all day with fleeting thoughts of you— remembering the sight of you smiling under the light of the TV, the sound of you laughing, the visual of you swallowed beneath fluffy sheets and pillows, pouty lips parted to let out the cutest, most annoying, and fucking nerve-grating snores that gently lulled Eddie to sleep. 
He spent time wondering what you were doing, how you looked and sounded in the morning, and being annoyed with himself for depriving himself of the chance to witness that. He wondered if you looked for him when you realized he was no longer in the room— if you were annoyed that he left without saying anything, or if you didn’t care. God, why does he care? It’s not like you two fucked, he just crashed in your room.
That same morning, Eddie had the phantom of your scent all around him. Soft, inviting, and all things alluring, and Eddie wanted to sink his teeth into it and gnaw at it like some fucking teething dog. What the fuck?
There’s something wrong.
However, those weird and unwanted feelings have died down since Eddie hasn’t seen you in the past forty-eight hours. Granted, that’s probably because he’s been subconsciously avoiding you like the plague, which has been relatively easy, considering they’ve been on a short break.
Thankfully, Eddie had a solid reason as to why he fled your room so early that morning— to pick up Wayne from the airport. He took Wayne to a breakfast diner and treated him to a warm meal and coffee to ease the stress of traveling from his bones. 
And Wayne has never been to New York, so Eddie took the time to show him around. Eddie’s been to the city many times, and he likes to think he’s somewhat of a pro now that he knows his way around the subway. Eddie swears learning the subway was easier than passing senior year, and that says something.
After breakfast, Eddie took Wayne to the Brooklyn Bridge, where they could see the Statue of Liberty in the distance. From there, they took a cab to Times Square so Wayne could witness the absolute chaos that is New York City. They spent some time in Times Square, watching street performances and snacking on greasy foods, and they had a good time until a few people spotted Eddie.
Wayne always tells Eddie he doesn’t mind fans coming up to them and enjoys watching Eddie interact with his supporters. Still, Eddie gets weary of crowds becoming rowdy around anybody he loves, so he tries to keep the interactions to a minimum when he’s out with company.
And Wayne isn’t much of an expressive person, but Eddie’s been around him long enough to read his microexpressions easily and understand that Wayne seemed to like New York so far.
Eddie hasn’t told Wayne about Gareth, partly because he knows he’ll get a long talk about how violence solves nothing, but more importantly, because Eddie doesn’t want to admit that Wayne was right about Chrissy. 
Wayne never trusted Chrissy all that much. Chrissy was friendly, respectful, and all things socially acceptable, but she lacked in the caring department. Wayne didn’t like that Chrissy never supported Eddie’s dreams, never showed up to a single show, or didn’t even bother learning the lyrics to at least one song. She didn’t care to show up for Eddie, but Eddie was always there for her. Always.
Chrissy was greedy with love, and Wayne saw right through her innocent act.
And given that Wayne is quite the expert at seeing people for who they really are, Eddie doesn’t understand why he doesn’t see through your innocent act.
It’s Wayne’s third night in New York when you finally cross paths. You’d been passing by each other in the hotel lobby; Eddie, Wayne, and Richie leaving while you were on your way in— and Eddie was content with ignoring you, but god, you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?
 “You must be the infamous Wayne,” You smile as you shake the older man’s hand. Eddie stands between Wayne and Richie as he stuffs his hands in his pockets while Wayne greets you, pursing his lips and rocking on the heels of his feet as you and Wayne share a short introduction— Richie snickers beside him.
“You three look fancy; what’s the occasion?” You wonder aloud. Wayne smiles, and Eddie doesn’t know when Wayne became so kind to strangers, especially annoying strangers. “Eddie here is treating us to dinner,” Wayne explains, reaching over to pat Eddie’s stiff shoulder. Eddie thinks that may be your indication to leave, but he’s sadly mistaken when Richie adds, “Have you eaten yet? Would you like to tag along?”
Eddie thinks the age is getting to Richie’s head because Richie must be out of his fucking mind. 
His head snaps to glare at Richie, about to cut in until you speak up, “Oh! I couldn’t; I don’t want to impose.” You shake your head with a kind smile. Good, Eddie thinks. Don’t impose, stay far a-fucking-way.
But Richie— god, Eddie can’t believe Richie, “Ah, the more, the merrier,” he waves you off, “And the rockstar will pay for us. Who turns down a free meal?” Wayne jumps in, causing you to erupt in soft laughter.
Eddie has to end this, obviously.
“The reservation is for three,” Eddie chips in, and finally, the three of you acknowledge his presence, turning to him as he shifts on his feet. “And we don’t have time to wait for you to get ready.” He adds, pursing his lips and shrugging in an ‘oh well’ gesture.
If Eddie weren’t watching you so intently, he wouldn’t have noticed the tiny shift of you caving into yourself, but he does, and he kind of feels bad for a quick second. He doesn’t know why he feels bad because he wasn’t even lying. The reservation was for three, and with New York traffic, they should’ve been on their way roughly fifteen minutes ago.
You open your mouth to respond, probably throw in the flag and let the three men be on their way, but Richie opens his fucking mouth again, “Well, we can wait, and I’m sure you can pull some strings for a third chair, son.”
And Eddie could. He can definitely get a fourth seat because he’s friends with the restaurant owner, but Eddie doesn’t want to. And he sure as hell doesn’t want to pay for your goddamn meal, but, as always, despite Eddie’s wishes, Richie insists you tag along. 
He, Wayne, and Richie end up sitting in the lobby waiting for you to get dressed in your room. Wayne and Richie are sitting on opposite sides of the couch, Wayne quietly flipping through a magazine and Richie mindlessly people-watching as Eddie impatiently bounces his leg and pouts in the seat across them. Wayne doesn’t bother looking at Eddie when he says, “You’re gonna leave a dent in the floor, son.”
Eddie glares at Wayne and Richie, “Why did you invite her?” He snaps.
Wayne flips the page of the flimsy book, heavily sighing and shifting in his seat, “This is the girl you mentioned at breakfast, right?”
Richie snickers and raises an eyebrow at Eddie, “You mentioned Birdie at breakfast? That’s interesting.” He jokes, to which Eddie grumbles a short and snippy, “Shut up.”
And yeah, maybe Eddie did mention you to Wayne, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t like that, okay? You just piss Eddie off, and now that he’s not on good terms with Gareth, and Jeff is too busy with his head stuck up his girlfriend's ass, Eddie has nobody to turn to for a good rant, and Wayne— well, Wayne was just there. 
“Yes. But did you also hear me mention that I can’t stand her, or did you just stop listening after I said her name?” Eddie grumbles. Wayne smiles behind the magazine, and Eddie can hear it in his voice when he responds, “No, I heard it all… sounded like a load of bullshit.” 
Richie laughs, but Eddie ignores it as his face twists in confusion at Wayne’s words, “Excuse me?”
Wayne closes the magazine and looks at Eddie, “Boy, did fame take away what little common sense you had? You don’t hate the girl.”
Before Eddie can respond to Wayne’s encrypted comment, you appear, pulling their attention, “Thank you for waiting; I hope I wasn’t too long,” you huff while hastily adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder.
For a moment, Eddie doesn’t remember what he was groveling about or that he kind of hates you.
And you’ve always been pretty. Eddie never thought you were ugly, and quite honestly, if you’d met under different circumstances and you weren’t a pain in the ass, Eddie might’ve fucked you. But Eddie’s hatred for you outshined your beauty… most of the time. However, that film of dusty and grey disdain has been clearing recently, and Eddie’s not sure if he should turn away or keep looking because you’re breathtaking.
He doesn’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the dress you’ve chosen and how perfectly crafted it is for you, how the colors compliment your skin in an achingly perfect way. Maybe it’s the way your eyeliner is slightly smudged and smoky from your rushed movements to avoid being late for the reservation. Or maybe Eddie’s just lost his mind right along with Wayne and Richie. For now, he’ll stick with the latter.
Eddie stands up with a loud huff, “Let's go. Before they give someone else our table.” He grumbles, brushing past you and walking off without another word.
Eddie misses the slight and amused smirk on Wayne’s lips.
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Wayne, you come to learn, is funny.
You’d thought the ride to the restaurant would be awkward, given that Eddie clearly doesn’t want you here, but Wayne and Richie left no room for the tension to rise. They both told stories and jokes the entire drive, and by the time you arrived at the restaurant, your stomach was sore from laughter. Honestly, you’re not sure how Wayne raised Eddie only for Eddie to end up like… Eddie. Wayne is kind and inviting and all things opposite of Eddie. You almost believe they’re tricking you.
“Since when did you become a stand-up comedian, Wayne?” Eddie sarcastically asks as he opens the door to the restaurant. Wayne had just made a joke about how Eddie was a troublemaker in high school, which Eddie clearly didn’t think was funny, given the scowl on his face.
“I’ve always been a comedian, son.” Wayne pats Eddie on the back as he steps into the fancy establishment. You glance at Eddie and thank him for holding the door as you follow behind Wayne, Richie stepping in behind you.
Eddie was able to get a change of tables, so you were able to join, and you thanked him on your way to the table as the waiter walked you all to your new designated seats. Eddie either didn’t hear you, or he didn’t care to respond; either way, you don’t take it to heart.
Once you reach your table, Wayne and Richie take the seats on the other side of the table, leaving you no other option but to take the seat next to Eddie. Eddie scoffs upon this realization, and you subconsciously chew the inside of your cheek as you settle in the chair.
For the most part, dinner goes by smoothly. You suppose Eddie’s distasteful attitude diffused once the food satiated his hunger— and you think Eddie has the character of a toddler that’s missed their nap time, and a part of you thinks it’s cute, watching him huff and fuss until he’s happily eating. You try your best to focus on the plate of food in front of you and the conversations between the four of you, but you often find yourself glancing over at Eddie. 
Because the way Eddie moves is like a movie.
Animated and smooth and all things annoyingly beautiful. The way he speaks with his hands, the way his hair brushes and sways back and forth over his shoulders when he shifts, the sound his rings make when clinking against the silverware. The way his cheeks carve lines when his lips stretch in a smile-soaked laugh, and his eyes widen when he gets excited while telling a story.
It’s captivating.
And a few days ago, you’d thought the wine was the cause for your unwanted attraction, but alas.
You blink away the haze of your short-lived trance and resume eating. Better to leave that road untouched.
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Despite Eddie’s low expectations, dinner was good.
He had a nice plate full of food he couldn’t be bothered to learn how to pronounce and a glass of whiskey to wash it down. Wayne and Richie held a good conversation, though those two have always gotten along well since Richie entered Eddie’s life. Richie and Eddie tell Wayne all about life on the road, updating him on the craziest shows and sights, and Wayne informs Eddie about everybody back home.
The kids are soaking up their last weeks of freedom before college, and Max even got a nose piercing, “Somehow, that made her even more of a firecracker, that kid.” Wayne joked.
Wayne says he doesn’t know much about the older half of them, but he runs into one of them every now and then at the grocery store and such, and Eddie makes a mental note to call and check in before the holidays.
And then there’s you.
Eddie wanted to believe you were ruining the vibe of dinner, but you annoyingly made it… better. 
You eased into the atmosphere as if you weren’t a complete stranger, asking questions about Hawkins and adding stories of your childhood in Michigan. Eddie had expected you to shy away for most of the dinner since they were mostly discussing things you weren’t there for, but you were as involved as the three of them, if not more.
And Wayne and Richie adore you.
Richie has always made it known that he has no problem with you, and some might even think the two of you have a relationship akin to a father and daughter. But Richie has always been that way. He’s always quick to accept people into their circle and give them a chance. 
But Eddie didn’t expect Wayne to warm up to you as quickly as he did.
Wayne is usually wary of strangers, and just like Eddie, Wayne hates the media. Wayne witnessed the hell Eddie initially went through with the press— messy rumors and misconstrued words— and when Eddie almost threw in the towel for good, Wayne was there to wrap it back around Eddie’s knuckles and shove him back into the game. So, you can imagine the confusion reeling through Eddie’s mind when Wayne immediately becomes fond of you.
It’s annoying and stupid, and Eddie thinks you might be a witch because you have everybody under this weird spell that makes them like you. 
After dinner, everyone decided to enjoy the nice weather on a walk back to the hotel. Even though Eddie would’ve much rather liked to call a car and make it back to the hotel in less than ten minutes, he can admit that it feels nice to just walk around in light conversation. He doesn’t get much of this anymore. Most days, Eddie is busy doing shows, writing songs, talking to the press, and rolling through each day, so he doesn’t have the time to have simple and lighthearted moments like these.
He’s walking beside Richie, blowing through a cigarette and listening to Richie ramble on about… well, Eddie’s not sure what Richie is talking about because he’s so focused on you.
A few paces ahead of Richie and Eddie, you and Wayne walk together, wrapped up in an intriguing conversation, considering how intently you seem to be listening. You’re watching where you’re stepping, but you routinely turn to Wayne and nod to let him know you’re listening, and every now and then, you even glance back at Eddie and Richie with a soft smile.
And you’re so fucking cute for that.
Eddie thinks he might admire you for that— for being so kind and attentive to Wayne. And you’re like that with everyone: kind and perceptive in a way that makes people feel like they matter, like every word they speak matters. But this… this is different, Eddie thinks.
He’s unsure what it is, but seeing how you interact with Wayne makes his chest warm— like he’s drinking tea on a cold autumn day. Like he’s spent the day shivering in a cold building only to step out into a sunny sky and thaw the cold from his ribs.
It’s endearing, watching you.
Chrissy was never close with Wayne in any way, shape, or form. And although Eddie would’ve loved to see Chrissy interact and get along with Wayne, it just never happened. Not because Wayne was adamant about hating Chrissy or because Chrissy hated Wayne but because they just… never clicked. (And yeah, maybe Wayne disliking Chrissy had something to do with that, but that’s neither here nor there.)
And Wayne is a big part of Eddie’s life. He’s the main reason why Eddie is where he is today and not following in his deadbeat father's footsteps. 
Wayne is Eddie’s family.
And the fact that you can acknowledge that and treat their relationship with such respect and care— it makes Eddie feel things that he’s not very keen on feeling.
But the moment of admiration for you is quickly shattered when he catches a snippet of your and Wayne’s conversation.
“You’re a good journalist, I take it. Will I be getting interviewed for this article, too?” Wayne jokes, and you laugh, “If you’d like to, I'm sure I can make the time before you leave.” You respond.
And Eddie doesn’t like that. He hates that actually.
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It’s nearly one in the morning when Eddie knocks on your door. They returned from dinner hours ago and called it a night, but Eddie is standing at your hotel room door, knocking at one in the morning. It’s a heavy and loud knock, enough to wake you out of the deep slumber you’d been in, given the way you grimace when you open the door.
You rub your eyes, blinking a few times before settling into a visible state of confusion once you realize the person in front of you is Eddie. You clear the sleep from your throat before sleepily blinking at Eddie and asking if everything is okay. 
Eddie doesn’t waste time cutting to the chase, “Are you trying to get my uncle in your piece?”
And yeah, maybe the question could have waited until tomorrow, and maybe the question is dumb and not all that serious considering it was clearly a joke, but Eddie smoked a blunt and couldn’t stop thinking about you— and looking at you now, god, Eddie believes if he hadn’t smoked too much to teeter on the edge of paranoid, he’d kiss you. You’re so cute; painted toes digging into the plush carpet (he thinks he should ask if you’ve iced your ankle tonight), oversized shirt hanging over your body like a blanket, messy imprinted lines of sheets on your cheek from your slumber, and a cute little frown gracing your lips. Eddie’s chest tightens.
“…Huh?”
Eddie almost forgot you were stupid.
“Wayne. Are you interviewing him for the article?” Eddie repeats.
You blink a few times, glancing around the empty hallway and shaking your head, “Eddie, this— this couldn’t have waited?” Your voice teeters on the edge of whiney as you speak.
Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, rubbing your eyes again before shrugging, “No, I— I don’t think so. I mean… he’s the one who offered to talk. I’m down to do it if he’d like—” “That’s not happening.”
Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion, “Excuse me?”
Eddie shakes his head, “Leave Wayne out of your stupid piece, okay? I don’t want you interviewing him, asking him stupid questions, and twisting his words. He doesn’t need any of that shit.”
And you blink up at him like you’re having trouble processing what he’s saying, and Eddie really wants to fucking kiss you. 
Too much weed, he thinks. He should’ve never smoked that much after such a long T-break.
“Um,” you hum, taking a moment to register Eddie’s words before speaking, “Okay… I didn’t realize I had overstepped. I won’t interview Wayne.” You respond. Kind, polite, sweet, and all things that make Eddie’s brain waves spike.
You yawn into the back of your hand, “Can I— can I go back to sleep now?”
And you’re standing there, blinking up at Eddie with these soft and pretty eyes, and Eddie thinks… Eddie thinks, fuck it.
Now, Eddie hadn’t exactly planned to come here and kiss you. Or maybe he had; he’s not exactly sure at this point, but he can’t find it in himself to care because kissing you feels better than any drug Eddie could ever get his hands on.
Your lips are soft and sweet and taste like the lip balm you’d applied before bed. And here, this close to you, Eddie can smell the shampoo in your hair, the clean, scented body wash you use, and the fresh linen lingering scent of the hotel sheets, and it’s intoxicating. 
You’re shocked at first; Eddie can tell from how still your lips are, but when you realize that Eddie is kissing you, god, Eddie nearly melts.
You kiss like nobody Eddie has ever kissed before. Like you’ve spent years perfecting every single move, calculated and precise and all things electrifying. And if this is how you kiss when you’re grumpy and sleepy, Eddie can’t imagine how you kiss regularly.
But he shouldn’t be imagining that, and he shouldn’t be kissing you, and he shouldn’t even be here, for fucks sake! 
It takes nearly everything in Eddie's body and soul to pull away from you, and it pains him when he loses the feeling of your lips against his, but Jesus Christ, Eddie doesn’t know what came over him.
You look at him in shock, almost like you’ve seen a ghost, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do or say.
All he can do is turn around and go back to his room without another word, leaving you speechless and confused, with only the echo of his door slamming to aid both of your whirling thoughts.
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part five
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a/n: GASSSPPP A KISS ?? LMAOO NEXT PART WILL BE A BIT MORE DRAMA FILLED SO LOCK IN BESTIES! AS ALWAYS, I LOVE ALL AND ANY FEEDBACK SO PLS LMK HOW U FEEL <3
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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2 @mvnsonslvt @s-u-t @hereforshmut @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92
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I'm thinking of leaving town.
The words bounce around Steve's head endlessly. Eddie had said them so casually. Like it wasn't going to be a big deal to anyone that he leaves.
And logically, it's not. It shouldn't be. Eddie's a high school graduate and no longer a wanted criminal, thanks to the shady government that fucked everything up to begin with. The logical next step is getting out of the town that still hates him, even if they're no longer actively hostile, and make something of himself.
And he's not even the first to go. Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan are all off to their chosen colleges and
And Steve doesn't want to stop him from going. He thinks it'll be great for Eddie. He plans to leave town, too, once the kids graduate.
He just thought he'd have more time. To figure out himself. And Eddie. And if they could be SteveandEddie someday.
So, the words continue to bounce around Steve's head for the next three days, until Robin calls him for their weekly catch-up. He asks about college, and her new crush, a girl named Michelle, and if she's still planning to come back for Christmas break. She asks after him, too, what's going on in his life, how he's liking working at hardware store and is it better or worse than Family Video (it's better), and of course asks after everyone left in town.
"Eddie's thinking of leaving," Steve says.
"Oh. Really?" She sounds confused more than surprised.
"Just thinking. He didn't say for sure, but it's on his mind."
"And how are you taking that?"
"I thought we'd have more time."
"How much more time do you need?" Robin's voice is filled with laughter and he can just imagine the playful eyeroll. "It's been eight months. It took you like five seconds to ask out any girl that flirted with you at Family Video."
"Eddie's different."
"I'm just... it's not like you, to not go after what you want."
"Eddie's important."
There's silence on the other line before, "Important enough to love out loud?"
Oh. Oh.
Robin always knows what to say to get Steve to see the obvious thing in front of him in a way that doesn't make him feel like an idiot. "Yeah. Important enough to love out loud. I'm telling him tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Quick turn around, Steve."
"Yeah, well, you're right. I always go after what I want, and I have to tell him before he goes. Even if he decides to still go, at least he'll know."
"Brave."
"No. Brave would have been doing this six months ago when I first looked at him and thought he looked kissable."
"No, that would have been stupid. You had a gay panic to get through and it was better that Eddie wasn't involved. Trust me."
And he does. Vickie was going through the same panic and had Robin and that... well, there's a reason he asks after Michelle and not Vickie.
"Right. Of course. Five months ago, then."
Robin laughs through the line and Steve feels resolve settle in his stomach.
-
Steve goes to the Munson house directly after his shift. Eddie's van is gone but Wayne's pickup is there, so Steve lets himself in, calling a greeting to Wayne.
"In the kitchen," Wayne calls back.
Steve wanders into the kitchen to see him with a rolling pin in hand and an empty pie plate nearby. "Baking?"
"Sometimes you just want a homemade apple pie," Wayne shrugs, "and there are two ways to do that. Woo somebody who will make it for you, or do it yourself. I'm picking the easier option."
Steve laughs, "alright. Need any help?"
"Recipes over there. Apples need peelin'."
Steve washes his hands and gets to work.
The pie is cooked and cooling, and Wayne has migrated to the couch with a beer since Steve offered to whip up supper. Wayne was going to make lasagna, so Steve starts pulling things from cupboards and the fridge and gets to work.
Eddie returns home as Steve is layering the lasagna in the dish.
"Wayne, I see you hired a chef!" Eddie shouts in the general direction of the living room before hopping up to sit on the counter opposite Steve.
Wayne laughs but doesn't say anything in response.
"Hey Eds," Steve flashes him a smile before getting back to dinner. He tops it off with more cheese and then shoves it into the oven. He grabs the dial timer from its spot in the cupboard and sets it before turning to give his full attention to Eddie.
"What brings you over tonight?" Eddie asks.
"I wanted to talk to you. Ask you something, really."
"Moi?" Eddie places a hand on his own chest, fingers spread and voice filled with fake surprise.
"Mmm, the one and only," Steve says, stepping into Eddie's space. Not close enough to touch him, but enough that he doesn't have room to hop back off the counter.
"And what could be so important that you had to make me dinner about it?"
"Would you go on a date with me?"
Eddie's eyes go wide and his mouth opens and closes a few times before snapping closed. He blinks down at Steve, but Steve's patient. He can wait for Eddie to process. "I- what, you're serious?"
"As a bat bite," Steve says, reaching a hand to rest it on Eddie's side, atop where he knows Eddie is scarred in the same way he is. "I thought I'd have all the time in the world to get there. To the asking. We'd get to know each other better. Deeper, I guess. But then. Well, you said you were thinking of leaving. And I realized I don't have all the time in the world."
Eddie's eyes roam Steve's face. Whatever he's looking for he must find because his legs fall open and he reaches for Steve even as he's already stepping into the space Eddie's created for him. "We can have all the time you want, Stevie."
Steve grins. "I don't want to stop you leaving, if that's what you really want. But, maybe we can postpone that? I want to stay close, until the kids graduate, but after that I'd follow you anywhere."
Eddie brings a hand up to Steve's face and before he's even made contact, Steve's shoving his cheek into Eddie's palm, nuzzling at him like a cat. "No need to be following. I'd rather you walk beside me."
"I can do that, too."
"Jesus, Stevie, I can't believe- I mean, I'd hoped, when you came out, but like," Eddie giggles and it's the sweetest sound Steve's ever heard, "like, it's hard to believe you want me back."
"Take it to the bedroom!" Wayne's shout from the living room startles both of them and they burst out laughing when they make eye contact again.
Eddie's other hand joins his first on Steve's face, and he pulls him into a kiss before they're even finished laughing.
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supernovafics · 10 months
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you and boyfriend!steve are (the worst) babysitters
wc: 515
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
"c’mere, c’mere, c’mere.” steve’s voice surprised you. 
and when his hand grabbed yours and began dragging you away from where you were standing by a random game, that was also a surprise to you. 
you laughed a bit as he led you out the door of the arcade. it was an arcade that was two towns over that the kids convinced you and steve to take them to because it just opened and it apparently had much better games than the one in town. 
you laughed a bit as steve led you toward his car. “you know we’re supposed to be watching them, right?”
“they’re fine. playing games and using all of our money,” steve told you. your back was pressed against the side of his car as he leaned in close to you. “just wanna kiss you a bit.”
you couldn’t help but smile at his pouty face. “you’re adorable.” 
before he could say anything in response, you wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the small hint of distance between you both, slotting your lips against his. 
steve didn’t waste a second to deepen the kiss and you inwardly smiled at his eagerness. he pulled you impossibly closer to him and let one of his hands start to travel underneath the shirt you were wearing. you were glad that it was dark and steve parked on the far end of the parking lot, so no one could see what you two were doing right then. 
“steve!” it was dustin’s voice that made you pull away from the kiss and nudge steve away a bit. everyone knew that you two were together, and had been for so many months at this point, but you still didn’t want any of the kids to see you and steve in any sort of compromising positions.
you readjusted your shirt as dustin walked over to the car. 
“oh nice, there you both are. i don’t even wanna know what you two were just doing,” he said. “anyway, can we get ten more dollars? there’s this game that we’re getting really close to beating and max thinks she’ll be able to do it, but we ran out of coins.”
steve almost began protesting because, between the two of you, a lot of money had been given to the kids over the past two hours. but, you still pulled a twenty dollar bill out of your back pocket and handed it to the boy. “here. but i do want my change back.”
“also, we’re still leaving in an hour,” steve added. 
“got it, mom and dad,” dustin said as he walked away, the teasing tone in his voice very evident. 
steve looked at you, hands finding your waist again as he leaned in to kiss you again. 
you pulled away after only a brief moment. “how about we go back inside and actually be good babysitters? also, so i can get my change and we use the rest of it so i can demolish you in skee-ball.”
steve smiled at that and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “it’s cute that you think you’d beat me.”
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potatobugz · 1 year
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shout out to barbarian tweek how has he not gotten like hypothermia
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woosansang · 1 year
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a collection of incredible, life changing, discord dm spam worthy seonghwas ♡ happy birthday to one of my favourite people, fio @hwanswerland ♡
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probablyhuntersmom · 7 months
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"It's been a year, I feel so heavy... Mama, will this feeling ever stop?"
“Mijo. It hurts. But you have so many people who love you. We can help you carry that feeling and one day it might not feel as heavy.”
(Dialogue by @childlikegoblinqueen, with some smol additions by me)
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