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#sob this part of the trailer!!!!
noxtivagus · 1 year
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HELP ME i just logged into ffxiv today n the trailer started playing yh n 😭😭
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cyncerity · 2 years
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Really short thing for the creature Tommy au that still needs a name!!
This is just a funny scenario that I couldn’t get out of my head, and it’s way shorter than what I usually write, but i really wanted to lol
This takes place way further in the au, where Tommy and Wilbur are basically family and Tommy actually cares what Wil thinks and doesn’t want to disappoint him.
anyway, tw: blood, violence, weapon use, mentioned gore and somewhat disturbing content (istg it’s all for shits and giggles it’s not as bad as it sounds)
The second that Wilbur had entered the alleyway, he knew. He had one thought, as he felt someone’s eyes on him, as he felt a hand on his shoulder that pushed him into a wall, as a man put a knife to his neck and pulled a napping Tommy out of his pocket;
This wasn’t going to end well.
“Look, we can talk about this, don’t do anything drastic-“ Wil tried to say.
“There’s nothin to talk about, bud. You made your own mistake bringin your little pet out here, you know how hard it is to catch one of these fuckers? ‘Sides, i know a couple of people who’d love to get their hands on one.” he said, jostling the sleeping “borrower” in his hand to prove some point of power in the situation.
Wil groaned in frustration. He knew the man was trying to intimidate him, but all he was doing was telling Wil stuff he already assumed. “I get it, you’re gonna sell him or some shit, you absolute asswipe of a man. But you don’t want that one, i swear to god, if you’d just give him back-“
“You wanna die pretty boy, cause that where this is goi-“ “Do you wanna die?!” Wilbur shouted, pushing the knife away from his throat. “Cause I genuinely cannot promise your safety if he wakes up, i’m not fucking kidding.”
“Oh yeah, what he gonna do, huh?” he said, closing a fist around Tommy as he shook him more violently and pressed the knife closer to Wil’s throat. Wil watched as Tommy’s eyes began to flutter awake and he raised his hands in surrender to the burglar. Tommy looked around to where he was, looking up at the burglar and then looking back to Wil. Wil, with his hands still up, nodded slowly to the boy, who smiled a sharp, toothy grin as large sideways canines began to form out from under upturned lips.
Wilbur made eye contact with the thief, who was now beginning to notice Tommy’s rapidly shifting form. “Don’t say i never warned you.”
…….
Wil pulled his hood higher above his head, further concealing the now inconspicuous “borrower” (well kinda inconspicuous; he was absolutely drenched in blood) on his shoulder as they made their way out of the now somewhat distant alley, listening to the screaming and sirens echoing from the background.
“Ok, I know I gave you the go ahead, but did you really need to take off all of his fingers??” “Did he really need to be such a bitch? And did you really need to call an ambulance for him?? Shoulda let the fucker get infected and rot there.” Tommy responded as he glared at Wilbur for a minute before going back to gleefully licking more blood off his fingers.
Wilbur tucked his head lower as the aforementioned ambulance sped past them. He felt a little bad for the guy, honestly. He’d heard somewhere that if a finger got cut off, you could reattach it quickly after the accident. This guy…wouldn’t be getting that option.
Well, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about feeding Tommy tonight.
Wil lifted a finger to mess up Tommy’s hair, the creature letting out an offended squeal as Wilbur laughed. “You’re like a feral cat, y’know that right?” Tommy gasped smack at whatever part of Wil’s face he could reach. “Fuck you! I’m so much more sophisticated than a cat! How dare you compare me to something so much less charismatic and charming and handsome than I am! And did you see what I did back there! No fuckin cat coulda done that! He was screaming like a little bitch before I even got to his fingers…“ Tommy ranted as Wilbur (admittedly half) listened to his rambles.
Tommy had probably corrupted some of his morals at this point, he’d be a fool not to realize that. What feels like a lifetime ago, before Tommy, he would never have just let some lab escaped creature rip a man up like that. But as it stood now, no one was gonna touch his family, and he’d be ok with a little bloodshed to keep his feral cat of a brother/son safe.
“and, c’mon, it wasn’t even that much blood loss-“ “I’m glad you’re ok, Toms.” Wil interrupted, glancing down at the boy to see he’d gone silent without a fight for once. He pretended not to see the way Tommy flustered as he turned away. Wil looked up, content to spend the rest of the walk on silence, until-
“…I’m glad you’re ok, too.” Tommy mumbled, still looking away from Wil. “I probably wouldn’t have gone as hard on him if he hadn’t been threatening you. I don’t know what if do without you, Wilby.” Wil ignored the tears forming in his eyes at the rare display of emotion, even if Tommy still wouldn’t look him in the eye. He was so, so proud of his progress. However, he didn’t want to embarrass him, so taunting it would be.
“Aw, did you just call me Wilby?” Wilbur cooed, causing Tommy to let out an offended squack as he yanked on Wil’s hair. “No! Fuck you, I take it all back, go to hell you fuckin wanker I hope you die!!” Tommy screamed as Wilbur laughed. “Don’t worry, Toms, it’s ok, it’s a cute nickname.” Wil responded through laughter as Tommy continued to shout obscenities at him.
Wilbur looked around and, after confirming that there were no other muggers nearby, took the screaming borrower from his shoulder and gently culled him to his chest. “Stop screaming for a minute and try and get some rest, Tom, it’s getting late. Plus I know how tired you get when you’re full. We’re still a ways away from home, but you can yell at me when we get there if you’re still up for it.” Tommy mumbled some excuse to not sleep but ended up dozing off soon anyway, which Wil wasn’t surprised about. He knew he was right about Tommy selling after eating, and he knew for a fact that Tommy slept better while listening to his heart beat, which is why the boy slept on his chest curled up like a cat every night.
Wil wondered when his life began to revolve so much around this strange little creature that he had found. When had he made his own life more difficult with this, when had he started prioritizing this monster over himself.
He looked down at the sleeping child in his hands and and smiled, feelings of joy and love that he hadn’t felt in a long time filling his chest.
Maybe he didn’t mind too much after all.
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Took one hell of an anime looking saga and somehow managed to make it look anime-er
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lo-cinno · 1 year
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I AM CONFLICTED
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cinewhore · 2 years
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MANDO IS BACK
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neonghostlights · 5 months
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Part Two Here
You couldn’t help the tears burning at your eyes, begging to be let loose and into the world.
Eddie stood before you, feet shifting awkwardly against the crunchy, dead grass infront of the trailer.
His wide eyes looked down at the ground, like he couldn’t stand to see the look on your face anymore.
“So you’re telling me,” you paused, taking a breath to keep yourself from sobbing, “we can’t be friends anymore because you got a girlfriend?”
The blinds in the trailer shifted out of the corner of your eye and you glanced up just in time to see her disappearing back into the house like she hadn’t been watching you get your heart ripped out of your chest by your best friend.
It was your mistake to stop by his trailer early this morning but in your defense it wasn’t like you had ever been told not to come to the trailer before. There was always an open door policy. Hell, you even had your own key just like he had one to your trailer and there were many times over the years that you would just find him in your space.
You did everything together.
You and Eddie had been best friends forever, ever since he moved into the trailer park just three trailers down from yours as a child. He was your other half in boy form. You were so close that you finished eachother’s sentences.
Eddie sighed and raised his eyebrows at you like he was grasping for straws on what to say. You knew how his brain worked, how flustered he got when he had to inevitably hurt your feelings.
You knew he had a girlfriend, you even met her once. She seemed shy and didn’t speak to you much but you didn’t think anything of it. He had been spending a lot of time with her but you didn’t even question anything was up until he screamed at you this morning when you walked into the trailer to see if he wanted to get breakfast with you.
She was there. In his bed.
You felt like a big idiot.
“It makes her uncomfortable when you’re around,” was all he said.
You nodded once, chewing on your bottom lip until you tasted blood. You couldn’t even blame her. You thought of yourself in her shoes, how it feel to see your boyfriend so close with someone that wasn’t you.
What no one else knew was that time was running out between you and Eddie, a little secret that you had been keeping and planned on telling him over breakfast this morning after a night of not being able to sleep because of the plaguing guilt.
You turned, slowly walking towards your own trailer, towards the college acceptance letter that sat secretly in your nightstand drawer. You waited to hear him call out, to yell that he would be by later and that he didn’t mean what he said but it never happened. It just made you pack your things faster.
————
Part two here
I’ll probably write more to this later on
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silent-stories · 1 year
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𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘
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Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Wayne didn't trust you, until one night.
Warnings: angst, fluff, nightmares
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Wayne Munson just wanted to protect his boy. And that's why he was so reluctant towards you.
It wasn't that he didn't like you, it was that he didn't trust you: after all the years Eddie had spent almost alone in school, you came in the picture. You, saying you cared about him, saying you were interested in the music he listened to and the books he read, saying you loved him.
It all seemed too perfect and Wayne just knew there was something wrong.
Not because he was a bad person, Wayne absolutely wasn't, but because he was afraid you were playing with Eddie's feelings. He was afraid that one day you'd laugh in his face and tell him there was no way a girl like you could ever love someone like him. An outcast. A cult-leader. A freak.
The worst part was that Eddie, on the other hand, was really in love with you. He could see it by the way he talked about you when you weren't around, by his loving gaze when you visited him at the trailer, by the smile that appeared on his lips whenever he mentioned you in a conversation.
Wayne was afraid Eddie would suffer when you left him.
Because he knew you would. It was just a matter of time.
After what had happened in the upside down, after Eddie had almost died (because yes, he knew the whole truth even if he had a hard time believing it at first) he often woke up due to nightmares.
Often he heard the bed creak as if Eddie was tossing and turning in pain, sometimes he heard him talking but never understood what exactly he was saying. He was probably calling your name, the name of girl he was in love with, poor naive boy.
Once, he opened the door to his room slightly, slowly and asked if everything was all right, watching the figure curled up on the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in a defensive position.
Even in the dark he could clearly see that Eddie was shaking.
It was pretty obvious that no, he wasn't all right. He was far from it.
Eddie told him to go away, that he was fine. Wayne pressed for a while but Eddie didn't seem to want to talk to him. Finally he closed the door and went back to his room, hoping that giving him the space he wanted would help.
He wasn't sure if it had really helped him when he started hearing muffled sobs coming from his room.
He really didn't know what to do. Eddie should have talked to someone about it, vented in some way but he didn't seem to want to do it with him.
He didn't seem to want to talk about it even with you, his "girlfriend". Wayne had expected this too: You wouldn't be there for his boy when he needed it.
After that night, Eddie had locked the door to his room, so even if Wayne wanted to go inside to check, he couldn't.
One night though, Wayne woke up to a noise coming from the room next to his, from Eddie's room.
He sighed running a hand over his face, tired, knowing he was going to have another sleepless night and that Eddie would too.
Thar time though, he heard the door to Eddie's bedroom open and the sound of bare feet making their way down the hallway where the phone was hanging on the wall.
What the hell was he doing?
Wayne got out of bed and headed for the door to his room but, when he was about to open it, he heard Eddie's voice on the other side of the door and stopped.
He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but that didn't stop him.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Wayne realized Eddie called you. At two in the morning.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Eddie whispered, almost as that was all the voice he could get out at the moment.
"Yeah, don't worry. I just... I think I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry, I'm sure I woke you up. Yeah, I told you I'm fine." Eddie muttered, if his words were to sound convincing, he was failing miserably.
He sounded like a kid scared by a thunderstorm, in moments like that Wayne wished Eddie's mom was still there with him, some things really would've been easier.
“No, that's stupid, I shouldn't even have called, you probably just want to sleep and not worry about my dumb problems. It's just…I'm tired, Y/N. I'm so tired and the nightmares won't stop and I… I don't know what to do. Every time, every night I'm there again and there are the bats and the lightning and- and It's hard to sleep without you. I'm scared Y/N. I'm scared they'll never stop, that I'll never be okay." Eddie sniffed.
Was he crying?
"But it's okay. I mean, yeah, I- don't worry and-" he probably stopped to hear what you were saying.
Were you telling him to go fuck himself for calling in the middle of the night? Were you trying to console him? Wayne couldn't know but either way, he didn't trust you. He had never done that.
"No. You don't have to. No, Y/N, no please, really, I-" Eddie stammered before silence fell on the other side of the door.
You hung up the phone. You hung up the phone on Eddie's face when he needed someone to listen to him and when he trusted you enough to call you and talk about how he was feeling.
Wayne knew it would end like this. You never loved Eddie like you said you did, you didn't even care about him or you wouldn't have hung up the phone. Maybe it was a joke all along, "make the freak your boyfriend, make him fall in love and trust you and then leave him when he needs it most and break his heart."
He knew how mean teenagers could be, they always managed to hit where it hurt the most. And, of course that's what you did with Eddie, you played with his heart that had already been broken too many times for someone so young.
He heard Eddie pacing nervously down the short hallway a couple of times, and just as Wayne was about to walk out of the room despite having no idea what to say, he heard the trailer door open and close.
Eddie went out. And Wayne wasn't going to let him spend the night in the cold or whatever that boy was up to.
The older Munson finally came out of his room and made his way to the door Eddie had disappeared through.
He opened it slightly and looked out, finding himself faced with the most unexpected scene he had imagined.
There you were, your car parked in front of the trailer, the door still open, and you were striding towards Eddie.
The sky was dark and moonless, only a few stars were visible, a nearby street lamp allowed the man to see what was happening.
Wayne leaned against the door frame, watching the scene a few feet away from him.
As soon as you reached Eddie you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him towards you, he immediately wrapped his arms around your body in a hug Wayne wondered if it could actually break any bones.
Eddie held on to you as if his life depended on it, squeezing the fabric of your shirt with his hands and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as he hugged you, as if having you there in that moment solved all his problems, as if Eddie was okay again just because of your presence.
"I'm here. It's okay, I got you." You said holding him, your voice soft and sincere.
That was the moment Wayne realized he was completely wrong about you, all along.
"You didn't have to come." Eddie whispered, not letting you go.
"But I wanted to." You responded by stepping away from him slightly, cupping his face with your hands and running your thumbs on his cheeks.
"I swear, you are something else." Eddie said with a slight smile. "Thank you for coming, really."
And Wayne, seeing you looking at Eddie as if he was the most precious thing in the world, wondered what had been on his mind every time he doubted your sincerity, every time he thought you didn't really care about Eddie.
You went there in the middle of the night because you knew he needed it, and he didn't even ask you. That was all it took to know that you were a good person. That you were there for his boy.
"I love you." He murmured before bringing his lips to yours in a light but affectionate kiss. Wayne had to look down, feeling he was slipping into a too intimate a moment.
"I love you too." You responded leaning your forehead against his. "And I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, you know that."
"Do you- think you can stay the night? I understand if you can't- if you don't want to- I mean-"
"Eddie, I've come to stay. I wouldn't leave even if you begged me, right now." You reassured him.
He nodded, leaving a kiss on top of your head. "I love you so much."
You smiled grabbing his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers ready to reenter the trailer.
Your eyes met Wayne's still in the doorway.
Eddie's hand squeezed yours tighter as you reached for him.
"She's spending the night here whether you like it or not." Eddie announced to his uncle.
Wayne looked between you and Eddie, then back to you as you started to talk.
"I'm sorry I showed up here in the middle of the night but I can't leave now, I-"
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you." He finally admitted.
A surprised expression came onto your face.
"I was wrong about you, I was wrong from the start." He said leading you into the trailer.
Eddie smiled at his uncle's words.
"It's okay, I understand where all your resilience came from. Really, don't worry about it." You answered with conviction.
Wayne patted your shoulder. "You are a good kid, thank you for being here."
You smiled again. "You don't have to thank me. None of you have to."
Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, up against his Metallica shirt he used to sleep in.
"We're going to sleep, uncle Wayne." Eddie said before heading to his room, dragging you with him.
You turned one last time to Wayne before disappearing behind Eddie's bedroom door. "Good night."
The man's gaze softened even more. "Goodnight kids."
Eddie was in good hands now, he always had been even when Wayne didn't know it.
You were always there, even when Wayne didn't know it. You were family.
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Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7
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allyricas · 7 months
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there's just something so delicious about friends-to enemies-to lovers
barely teenage steve and eddie who have a devastating end to what they both thought would be a forever friendship. maybe it's a misunderstanding or maybe it's just teenage angst that felt impossible to fix in the moment.
but i am feral over the idea that the only reason steve ever became 'king steve' strutting around with tommy and carol with his aloof, semi-mean girl attitude was because of the falling out with eddie. that he did it so he didn't feel so much hurt over it. still has no idea what he did to make eddie suddenly hate him.
same with eddie. he definitely liked metal and nerdy shit all along, but maybe he only leaned into the whole 'forced conformity, it's what's killing the kids' freak persona to guard himself. as armor. because he fucking misses steve as much as he hates him. so he glares and makes snarky comments. finds his solace in DnD and his band.
they fight with words and shoulder shoves in the hallway. each of them too proud to ever talk it out and fix things. to the point that their peers don't remember that steve and eddie used to be inseparable. everyone but steve and eddie forget the obvious affection and closeness they once shared.
it takes a bunch of freshmen to put them back into each other's orbit.
it takes the upside down, a dead cheerleader and an evil wizard for them to actually get along again.
because steve is meant to hate eddie but the moment he sees the trailer and hears the word 'murder' he feels like he might throw up.
Please, god, not eddie.
only to find out he supposedly murdered chrissy cunningham. despite all the animosity between the two of them, steve knows in his soul that eddie would never kill anyone.
even when he's against a wall with sharp glass pressed to his neck, heart racing as he looks into the eyes he tries not to think about, steve knows that eddie won't actually hurt him.
steve has the urge to stay with eddie at the lake house and make sure nothing else happens to him. instead, he stops forcing himself to be an asshole towards eddie. it's exhausting and he's never truly meant it anyways. the upside-down shit is threatening the one person he hoped would never be a part of it.
it takes eddie watching steve get pulled under lover's lake and attacked by demon bats to realize that the biggest misunderstanding was of his own thirteen year old self's feelings. that he could've lost steve and he'd have never even told him the truth of why he let their friendship implode over such a ridiculous misunderstanding.
that he wanted more than friendship and that scared the hell out of him at thirteen.
he sees steve bleeding and throwing himself into danger over and over. realizes that yeah, steve harrington is a good guy. his own personal munson doctrine is fundamentally flawed and untrustworthy and he's in love with this stupidly brave man, maybe since forever.
make him pay means i'm sorry, i love you, please be safe, come back.
it takes eddie nearly dying and his steve carrying him out of hell for eddie to realize that steve never hated him either. that what eddie always views as aloofness and superiority was hurt and steve trying to deal. regardless of whatever lays in the past, steve holds him together with his hands and begs eddie to stay. whispers that he loves him, always has loved him, always will love him.
eddie thinks about all the years they lost due to teenage angst and fear. fights to keep his eyes open and stay, because steve his sobbing and begging him not to go.
and when eddie finally wakes up in the hospital, it's steve and uncle wayne next to him. steve won't leave his side, maybe ever again. neither of them with any desire to ever look at each other with anything but love.
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carolmunson · 8 months
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in the still of the night
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soft!gf!reader x depressed!eddie
became a woman posessed and decided i needed to write something about taking care of my baby cow eyes sad bf. tw: as always, minors dni. themes of depression/mess. mention of minor character death. reader wears eddie's clothes. some suggestive language. showering together.
Steve called for a check-in just to call you right after, said he'd offer to drive. You peek into the darkened trailer, hearing the scratch of the record player in the living room. Too tired and achey to make it to his bed last night and too defeated to leave the couch all day today -- not even to flip The Animals record to the B-side. Rain patters on the tin roof, curtains drawn but not thick enough to keep out the gray light from spilling in through the bare threads of years of use. He faces the back cushions, hugging a pillow, knees tucked under the bottom. A kid in his adult disguise, he always gets like this around the anniversary of his mom's passing. You ease in, lightly closing the storm door behind you. The soft gray glow in the kitchen leaves you a little sullen. Half done dishes on a rag on the counter -- two smashed glasses scattered across the tile. Evidence of his frustration part way through the task, you can practically hear his desperate 'I don't wanna do this,' while he threw them. You let out a breath through your nose silently, noting the piles of laundry on the table by the washing machine across from the living room. He hadn't let you come over in a couple weeks, it's clear why now. When you tip toe onto the brown shag carpeting by the record player you ease the needle off the disc. The steady rise and fall of his back and shoulders aids your next move. You clear off the McDonald's bags from nights of fast food off the coffee table like a mouse, making sure not to crinkle anything too much. You don't want to stir him. Once clear, you walk around it, taking a seat on the edge of the couch by his feet -- hand reaching out to run comfortingly over his back. "Hi baby," you say softly, "It's me." He stirs, looking down to see you there, confused. He looks down at himself, same pajamas he's had on for three days, unshowered, unshaven. He's embarrassed, he never let's you see him when he's like this. Eddie's face crumples when the realization sets in -- it's not a dream and you're there, seeing his filthy trailer, seeing what happens when he's not okay. You're not supposed to see this, even when you're so sweet on him every time you do.
"What's goin' on, bub?" you ask in just above a whisper, "What're you thinkin' about?" His brows pull in, jaw getting tight when his nose starts to tingle with the start of a cry. His eyes water, shining in the light of the overcast through the threadbare curtains. One hiccup turns to two, and then he starts. "S'just been hard," he sniffles, "I'm just havin' a h-hard time." "I know," you soothe, still rubbing his back, "It's that time of year." "You sh-shouldn't be here," he shakes his head, shoulders shaking while the sobs start to over take him, "You kn-know I'm not like th-this." "Shh, I know, I know," you coo, climbing into the space between him and the back of the couch, squishing over him slightly, "I can help. I wanna help." He welcomes your body along his, you manuever so he's partly atop you, replacing the pillow with your torso. His face finds home in the crook of your neck, while you scratch at the top of his scalp the way he likes it.
"You smell good," he says wetly into your skin. "Thank you," you whisper. You both lay there for a little bit, letting him cry, letting him listen to the rain while it picks up outside. The living room gets a darker while the storm rolls further through the park and evening sets in. He settles after some time, your neck and shouler damp with his tears.
"I'm sorry," he says when he sits up part way, "I'm sorry you're seeing me like this...again." "I will always rather see you like this than any worse alternative," you smile at him, "I get like this too, you never make me apologize." "I know but I -- " "No buts," you shake your head, sitting up right to lean down and kiss him on the forehead, "Why don't you put a movie on and I'll take care of that laundry?" "No, no, you're not -- you're not doing my laundry," he says with an annoyed huff, "I can do it -- it's fine." "I want to," you assure, wiping at his cheek with your thumb when frustrated desperate tears start to spill from the pool in his eyes again. "It's not -- fuck babe, it's not your job. You don't have to take care of me," he complains, "I'm okay. I'm fine." "I don't think you're fine," you shrug, tilting your head to looking at him. His cheeks redden, you can tell he's stressed -- embarrassed to be crying in front of you, embarrassed by the mess. The rise and fall of his shoulders quicken while he takes stock of what needs to be done around him. "Hey, hey, look at me," you encourage, your palm skating over his stubbled cheek, "How about I do some laundry and if it makes you feel better you can take out the trash. Does that work?" "Angel, I don't want you doin' my --" "Would you like it better if I did your laundry...naked?" you smirk. He huffs a soft breathy laugh, a smile pulling on his while he wipes his eyes. "There he is," you murmur, "There's that smile I like so much." He sniffles, collecting himself for a minute before looking back up at you with sleepy, puffy eyes, "You don't have to do my laundry naked." "I can if you want," you offer with a joking grin, "If it'll make you happy." "You being here makes me happy," he whispers, "But I know you're just as stubborn as me so I'll let you start the laundry, but you're not doing all of it." "Okay," you nod, "And after I start the laundry I'll get the kitchen together f--" "Don't push it," he warns, leaning forward to leave a loving kiss on your cheek. You ease up off the couch, offering your hand to help him up. He creaks the way old men do, men who have seen too much before they were supposed to. He's unsteady when he stands, stiff with dehydration and lack of movement beyond the shuffle to the bathroom from the couch. Eddie pulls you into him, your face nuzzling his uncle's army tee softened from so many years of washing. Your arms wrap tight around him, thinking if you squeeze him enough it'll remind him that he's here with you and not wherever his mind keeps taking him. "Let's take a shower," you mumble against him, "We'll go slow."
"Am I gross?" he asks with a frown, you can hear his heart beat quicken from under his ribcage.
"No, but you'll feel a little better. I think, at least," you arms fall, hands sliding down to his, "I'll wash your hair for you." He loves that. "Okay," he nods, big brown eyes rounding -- admitting defeat, letting you lead the way he prefers to. The heat soothes his skin, the sharp twang in his muscles, the tension in his neck. He breathes in the steam, taking handfuls of water and splashing his face with it despite the sting. It's a hurt that feels good. That feels earned. You let him get a head start, a few moments alone to let the water heal whatever you can't. In the mean time, while he's not looking, you sweep up the glass in the kitchen and start a load of laundry. He knows you, his face a poster of unsurprised annoyance when you finally make it into the shower with him. "I know you cleaned," he says softly. "You love me anyway," you shrug, stepping close to press yourself against him -- skin hot from the water. "I do love you anyway," he nods, voice gruff and sleep soaked, crying vocal chords begging for something more. You suds him up, letting the water hit you in a waterfall as you step ahead. His eyes shut, heavy breaths taking over from crying while he relaxes further into your touch. He hums when you wash his hair, letting you baby him in a way he never was as a kid. You comb out his curls when they're wet with conditioner, massaging his scalp when you let it set in. He's always a little disappointed when it's over -- he'd offer to pay you to keep going. His bedroom is not in dissaray the way other parts of the trailer are. He never leaves mess where his guitars stay, where the amps are, it's the only place there needs to be order. You both step in with towels on, it's chilly from the window being left open, goosebumps raising on both of you at the wind. He still has some clean pajamas in his dresser, enough for both of you to wrap yourselves up in. He loves you like this, hot skin and refreshed, water still clinging to your eyelashes. The washing machine buzzes and you both turn, his hand reaching out to your shoulder when you go to switch it out. "Hey," he pleads, "I said you could start it, that's it." "Then come switch it out with me," you say, "Let's do it together. That's what I'm here for." A heartfelt smile flickers over his features, eyes shining with tears again from the shake up in emotions from your arrival in general. "Okay," he nods. You both pad in socked feet to the main living space, dressed in PJs in the middle of the early evening. The glow of the overhead lamp catches his wet hair, the glint of his silver chain, the wet slick of his lips. You switch out the laundry while he puts in another load, shutting the top down door with a tinny thud. You hoist yourself on it, legs dangling above the tile, heels rumbling against the cream coated metal. It's not long before his hands reach your thighs, leaning forward to catch you in a gentle kiss. "Thank you," he mumbles against your lips, "Again." "Anytime," you whisper, kissing him back, "Always."
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steddielations · 8 months
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Dom Steve Fic Recs
Strange as Angels (soft dom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie hasn't been able to get himself off in months, and now he's high, sweaty, and horny, thinking about the very man sitting in his room in nothing but a wife beater and a pair of tiny athletic shorts, and he thinks he might die. Steve notices. Of course, Steve fucking notices, what, with all the squirming Eddie's doing. Steve offers to help get Eddie off. As friends do. (As long as those friends are completely in love with each other.)
Like The Hero Who Never Ran (dom awakening series) by callmejude
While Steve and Dustin are searching for survivors, they're surprised to find Eddie alive, hiding out in Rick's cabin. Steve takes up the task of caring for him while staying in his trailer.
Genius Loci (dom bottom, magic steve) by @sayesayes
It’s 1986, and Steve falls in love with a boy who is leaving. It’s 1990, and Eddie comes back home. The fic where Steve is a selectively mute, homesteading, truck-driving witch with head injuries and also somehow it's canonverse.
(Don't) cream your pants (soft dom steve awakening series) by @corrodedbisexual
“Don’t know how to cream your pants, huh?” Steve asks, unable to conceal a smirk. He hears a quiet whine as Eddie seems to try and make himself disappear inside the couch. “Want me to show you how?”
Gilded (dom steve, blindfolds, ice play) by @cheshiredogao3
Steve and Eddie are looking forward to a weekend all to themselves, but it doesn’t go as planned.
Trouble Looks Good On You (wip, spanking, kink discovery) by me indelicate
It happens like a fever dream. The first time Steve gives Eddie a swift smack on the ass, it’s obviously just an old jock habit that’s stuck with him. It wasn’t meant to have Eddie’s knees going weak, or turn his blood hot under his skin, or give him a brand in the shape of Steve Harrington’s hand, or— Nope, because Eddie’s not even into that. But then, it happens again. Or, Steve keeps accidentally awakening Eddie’s new kinks.
You Make Me Feel Like I Am Whole Again (wip, dom top and dom bottom steve) by @munsonkitten
Eddie has never felt like his body belongs to him. It gets worse after he's nearly mauled to death, left with scars and healing wounds, a lopsided chest, and more trauma stacked on top of everything already wrong with him. Steve Harrington finds out Eddie's trans by accident after the bats, and Eddie finds out Steve's surprisingly okay with it. More than okay with it.
Bite Through These Wires (soft dom steve's strap game series 🤭) by @steves-strapcollection
“Wouldn’t you be Ken, though?” Steve had hoped Eddie would ask a question like that and he had to refrain from punching the air and ruining his punchline. “I come with all the coolest accessories, so clearly I’m still Barbie,” Steve retorted, his voice going just a bit deeper as he leaned closer to Eddie.
Relax (Lay it Back) (soft dom yoga instructor steve) by @wynnyfryd
Five times yoga instructor Steve teaches Eddie how to chill the fuck out, and the one time he learns his lesson.
Melt Me On Your Tongue (soft dom, bathing) by me indelicate
“This okay?” “Yeah it’s— shit, it’s more than okay, Steve.” “… you’re crying, Eds.” Eddie can’t hold back a choked off noise then, somewhere between an overwhelmed laugh and a sob. “No one’s ever done this to me before.” He doesn’t know if he means no one’s ever given him a bath, or braided his hair, or just any of the things Steve does for him, really. Eddie's never had a Steve before.
Kiss Me (Beneath the Milky Twilight) (pleasure dom steve, virgin eddie) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Eddie has never been kissed. Steve apparently would very much like to volunteer to fix this.
Getting Lost in the Dark is My Favorite Part (wip, masochist virgin eddie, kink discovery) by queerontilmorning
After his near-death experience, Eddie decides it's time to get rid of his pesky virginity and heads to a gay bar. It leads to some... realizations... for both him and Steve.
You're a Sweet Shot of Kerosene (When I Threw it Back, it Poisoned Me) (wip, mob boss steve) by @gorgeousgreymatter-x
Whatever fucked up shit Eddie’s father had inadvertently roped him into simply by being what he was — a shit-stain excuse for a sperm donor who preferred sticking a needle in his arm to taking care of his family — well, Eddie’s pretty sure it’s about to be him that pays that price. And maybe Eddie’s delirious, because by the time it’s apparently his turn and they’re dragging him down some hallway (and yeah, it’s not like Eddie’s not trying to put up a fight, but it feels almost performative at this point considering he’s pretty much hogtied here), the only real thought he has when they deposit him on yet another cold, wet tile floor is this: Uncle Wayne is gonna be so pissed at me if I get shot in the head tonight.
closer to you (soft dom steve) by @natesfwl
“C’mon baby, where's my little rockstar?” Steve spanks him, groans when he feels Eddie tense up around him from the impact, “Perform for me.” “You let me penetrate you” Eddie stutters out the line as he lifts himself up with his knees. “There you go,” Steve whispers, watching as Eddie fights to keep his eyes locked onto Steve’s when he sinks back down. or the really self-indulgent fic of steddie fucking to the song closer by NIN.
Destroy The Silence (drummer steve) by @artaxlivs
Steve becomes the drummer for Corroded Coffin and Eddie can't handle his thirst
Trouble and Temptation (series wip, businessman dilf steve) by @heartharps
“Come on, Harrington. I’d lay you badly but I’d lay you gladly.” When Steve looked up, he was glaring, as stern and serious as ever. “Eddie, let me remind you that as far as I'm concerned, nothing has ever happened between us other than of a professional nature.”
Sting, and Other Brainworms (series with switching) by @riality-check
“Do you need to go down, baby?” Eddie gets like this, sometimes. Stuck between overwhelmed and incredibly bored. Steve watches until he remembers that they have a way to fix this. Eddie calls it a hard reset. Steve calls it fucking him until he can’t see straight.
Edification (sadist steve) by aristal
“Alright Munson.” She bares her teeth and grins like a wolf. “Tell the class: what’s your biggest sexual fantasy?” A slow smile creeps into his features, and his dark eyes flash. “Oh, you’re asking the good questions, Wheeler.” He takes another long pull of his joint, dragging the moment out for dramatic effect. Steve doesn’t care. He wants to know the answer. He needs to know. Eventually, Eddie blows out the smoke, eyes a little hazy as he grins at the ceiling. “I’ve always liked the idea of being slapped around and choked in someone’s car.”
In My Boxers, Half Stoned (dom bottom Steve) by eddywow
"You can," Eddie said, almost sounding like he was nodding along to his words. The image was too pure for Steve. "You could say anything you want to me and I'd- I think I'd be into it. Because I saw your pics and like, I know your face isn't in them but- but I really like them. Is it okay that I liked them?"
Insatiable (public, skirts, cages) by @cheshiredogao3
When their club ritual is rudely interrupted, Steve and Eddie make a point of proving their bond—rather publicly.
Done Deal (series with switching) by @morningberriesao3
Steve Harrington doesn't have any money with him, so he offers to pay Eddie Munson some other way.
Lovebite (sub vampire eddie) by hellcore
It shouldn’t feel so good, being tasted.
* The next few don't have the tag but in my opinion they have dom Steve vibes and I want to include them here (:
Cyclical (wip, time loop fic, rimming, switching, lots of smut with plot) by @cuips-not-cute
steve keeps finding himself back in the boathouse where everything started, wrapped up in the arms of a boy who can’t stop dying. he's desperate to rewrite the timeline, trying everything he can think of to fix it. including falling in love.
Dirty Words by @morningberriesao3
Steve gives Eddie a lesson on dirty talk, but things start to get carried away.
Memorize My Number, That's Why I Got A Phone (phone sex) by queerontilmorning
while on tour with Corroded Coffin, Eddie makes an important phone call to Steve.
My Right Hand Man (spanking, kink discovery) by @entanglednow
In which movie night takes an unexpected turn, and it's surprisingly easy to just let it happen.
Shot Right Through (pierced eddie) by @entanglednow
Steve overhears a conversation between Eddie and Robin, and then spends a few weeks trying to think of anything else.
Pleased To Meet You (demon steve) by midnightdrive
Eddie accidentally summons a demon who is bound to fulfill his every wish. He, somehow, gets more than he had bargained for.
1K notes · View notes
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Eddie lives.
Just barely.
Steve and Nancy carry him out of the upside down, with the help of a sobbing Robin and a screaming Dustin. They get him out. They get him safe. They get him to the hospital.
The government clears his name. They clean up Hawkins as best they can. All while Eddie is in a coma. The doctors don't know if he'll ever wake up. Steve sits next to Wayne everyday. Waiting. They talk. Get close.
And almost 3 months later. Eddie wakes up. He smiles at Wayne, reaches for his hand with tears in his eyes. And once they're done hugging, his eyes land on steve. Full of confusion, his hands gripping Wayne's shirt tightly, his head shaking.
He doesn't remember.
Anything.
He remembers meeting Chrissy after school, taking her back to the trailer. And then nothing. Steve feels his chest ache, feels tears coming. He excuses himself quickly, and then he runs.
~°~
He hears about Eddie, through Dustin. He helps Eddie around school now, helps with his classes too. Eddie is different now. Quieter. Dustin tells him this. Tells him he really only seems like old Eddie when they meet for hellfire.
But Dustin also tells him that he's pretty sure Eddie thinks maybe he did kill Chrissy. Because people talk. The town talks. And no amount of hush money can make people less vindictive and awful. Can't make the way they call him a freak with more venom now than they ever did before, go away.
But the thing is. Eddie still sees so much. About people. About how they're feeling. If they're upset, and sometimes why they are. He's observant in a way that Steve has never been able to get used too.
And Dustin drags Steve and Robin and Nancy back into Eddie's orbit. Willing their closeness to bring their Eddie back. He gets closer with Dustin and Lucas than before. Even apologizes to Lucas unprompted, about how harsh he was about hellfire that day. Asks for his sports schedule to make sure they don't overlap again.
And Steve's chest keeps aching. Because Eddie has learned from the things he can't even fucking remember.
Dustin drags Eddie around them all. And Steve can't help the way he looks at him. Can't help the way he watches him. But every now and then. He finds Eddie watching him back. Both of them startling and looking away.
But Steve always glances back at Eddie, has to keep his eyes on him. He'd spent so much time in that hospital room, watching Eddie sleep, and not move, and be still and silent. And he'd hated it.
So he watches him. Watches him move. Watches him smile. Watches him hold up a move case to Dustin, a funny voice floating from behind it. It makes Dustin laugh and Steve smile. And Eddie sees it. Looks up and locks eyes with Steve as he watches them goof around the store, and he doesn't look away.
But steve does. He has too. Because there's no recognition behind Eddie's eyes. Not the way Steve wants there to be.
~°~
Three months later Lucas and Dustin show up at his door, looking worried. It's late friday night. Steve had to work so he couldn't pick them up from hellfire, but they were both still clutching their dnd manuals to their chests.
Steve doesn't even have time to open his mouth before dustin says,
"He's remembering." And Steve's heart flutters but he stays as calm as possible, lets the boys in.
"What do you mean he's remembering?" Steve asks, all of them falling into chairs and couches in his living room.
"The new campaign. It's got.... things. The bats. The vines. It's even got a creepy house." Lucas says, slowly, like he's afraid to tell Steve. Steve frowns, nods.
"There's other stuff too. There's a few characters, npcs, they're a lot like you and Robin. There's one that could be Nancy, with a stretch. But your's is... playing a big part." Dustin grimaces when he says it, and Steve's cheeks burn, maybe Dustin sees more than he lets on.
"What? What kinda part? And does he know? That it's me? That it's...that it's real?" Steve asks, his hands rubbing over his jeans roughly, his palms damp as he presses them against his thigh.
"We don't think so. Not really. But he gets this look in his eyes sometimes. When certain things happen. He'll look at us, me and Dustin, and it's like..." Lucas shakes his head, like he doesn't know how to describe it.
"It's like he's challenging us. To say something. To like- confirm the things he's saying? Like he knows that we know something. That we know it's real." Dustin swallows, hard.
"And then it passes. And he's back to normal DM Eddie. Just, doing his normal shit. It's- it's weird. There's something there. And we thought... maybe..." Lucas trails off, glances at Steve. His stomach drops.
"You thought what?" He asks, but he knows.
"We thought maybe you could talk to him." Dustin says, a cringy smile on his face.
"Why me?" Steve asks, but he's already thinking about what he'll say to Eddie. How he's supposed to talk about this.
Lucas shrugs,
"Because he seems fixated on you. Not in a weird way. Just... you're in the campaign. A lot. And he asked Dustin about you last week." Lucas says, looking to Dustin so he can be out of Steve's attention.
"He what?" Steve asks, eyes locking on Dustin, who glares at Lucas.
"It was nothing bad!!!" Dustin screeches, holds his hands up.
"He just... asked if you and Nancy were still dating. Had this confused look on his face, like he was trying to peice something together." Dustin shrugs, like it's nothing. Like his words didn't just completely shift Steve's world.
"I'll do it."
~°~
He goes to Eddie's the next day. Knows he'll be home. Wayne's been taking weekends off to spend time with him.
Wayne opens the door, smiles softly when he sees it's steve.
"Hey kid. Was startin to wonder if I'd be seeing you again." He says, his voice soft, but happy. Not accusing like Steve had been worried he might be. Steve sighs, smiles back.
"Hey Wayne. I uh... I was wondering if I could talk to Eddie? If he's around?" He shrugs, pretends they both don't know that Eddie doesn't leave the house much anymore. Wayne looks at him for a moment, really looks at him, and then he's smiling again and motioning for Steve to come inside.
"He's in his room. I'm gonna go for a walk. I won't be far. Holler if you need me." Wayne says, and steps through the door. Leaving Steve standing alone. He takes a deep breath and walks down the hall.
Eddie's sitting in bed, scribbling in a notebook in his lap. Steve clears his throat and Eddie's head snaps up. He sees Steve and shuts the notebook quickly, rearranges himself, sits up a bit straighter. But there's no look of confusion this time. Steve raises his hand, wiggles his fingers, hovering in the doorway to the bedroom.
"Hey. Can I come in?" He asks, and he's nearly whispering, not sure why.
"Hey." Eddie says, nods and waves for Steve to come into his room. He does. And then he stands awkwardly in the middle of Eddie's room, not sure what to do or where to go from here. Eddie snorts, and Steve's eyes jump to his face, find him smirking, just a little, his eyes full of amusement.
"You can sit if you want." Eddie taps his foot against the bed twice before pulling his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them and watching Steve as he sits across from him after kicking his shoes off. He sits cross legged, looking at Eddie look at him.
"So Dustin wanted me to talk to you." He says, apropos of nothing. Good start Steve. Eddie's eyebrows jump on his head.
"Dustin..." Eddie trails off, watching Steve. Steve nods, slowly. Can't seem to gage whether Eddie is fucking with him, or waiting to see just how much Steve will divulge without being prompted.
"About the new campaign. And some of the... stuff. You've been putting in it." He frowns, but Eddie's eyes flash dark for a moment, and Steve's sure this is the look the boys had mentioned. And like they said, it's gone in a flash.
"What about it?" Eddie asks, his voice a touch higher. Steve sighs, rubs at his face. He really should have brought Robin, or Nancy. He shouldn't be the one doing this. He pushes his hands through his hair and then finds Eddie staring at him.
"Can I ask you a question?" Eddie asks, his voice quiet. Steve blinks at him.
"It's a weird question. And I don't" he pauses, his face scrunching, like he's in pain.
"You can ask me. Whatever it is. It's okay." Steve assures him, has to curl his fingers into his pants to keep from reaching out to Eddie, wanting to sooth him. Eddie frowns, is silent for a moment before he looks at Steve.
"Were we-" he stops, shakes his head, his fingers pressing into his comforter by his foot.
"Were we... something?" He's frowning again, his head shaking gently as his eyes jump around and then land on Steve, he looks like he might be about to cry.
"Uhh... what do you mean by something?" Steve asks slowly. Eddie wraps his arms around his knees again, tucks his feet closer, presses his lips to his knee before he takes a breath.
"I keep having these dreams." He says, eyes on the bed between them.
"And you're in them. And it just feels..." he shakes his head again, sniffs, and Steve can't help it. He moves forward, curls his fingers around Eddie's ankle. Eddie sucks in a shakey breath, his eyes snapping to Steve.
"Feels like what?" Steve asks, softly. Eddie stares, his eyes watery.
"It feels so real. And then I see you. Here. With Dustin. Or at family video. And it just..." he shakes his head again,
"It just feels like I'm missing something. Until I see you. And then it feels... like I've found it. But.... not? Because we aren't. I mean we weren't.... were we?" He's frowning now, tears falling, and he looks so confused, and hurt. Steve licks his lips, shakes his head, slowly, and almost crumbles when Eddie nods, quickly, and looks away, pulls his ankle away from Steve.
"Yeah. No I figured. Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Eddie looks so small, curls around himself, not looking at Steve.
"Eddie it's-" he doesn't know what to say, or how to say it. So he bites his lip, remembers the way Eddie smiled up at him in that fucking RV and decides to tell him the truth.
"We weren't. No. But I- I wanted to be. I just realized it too late." Steve watches as Eddie turns to him, slowly, his eyes wide. Steve shrugs, give him a sad smile.
"You- you wanted- with me?" Eddie's voice is high, disbelieving. Steve nods.
"Yeah. But I didn't make it back in time. And then you were dying. And then you didn't remember and I-" his voice breaks, tears blurring his vision, burning his throat, he clears it, tries again.
"I just thought it would be better to let you go. Get back to normal. I didn't wanna... push you. You needed to heal. So I just..." Steve moves his hand in front of him, gesturing to nothing, hoping Eddie understands.
"You stayed away." And of course Eddie does, get it. Steve smiles, huffs, shakes his head and wipes at his face. And then he sees Eddie's notebook pushed into view. Eddie holding it out to him.
"I didn't forget. Not really." Eddie says, nodding to the notebook, holding it until Steve takes it. He moves to open it, checks with Eddie first, looking at him, Eddie nods.
Steve flips the first page open and his breath catches. A tornado of demo bats fills the page. It's followed by pages of vines. Pages of Chrissy. Pages of Dustin, and Nancy, and Robin, Max and Erica.
All of them. Some of them in the RV. Some of them riding bikes. All of them littered with drawings of Steve. Steve in the boathouse, Steve being strangled by bats, Steve with blood in his mouth from killing said bats. Steve wrapped in bandages, and Steve wearing Eddie's vest. Pages and pages and pages of Steve.
He looks back, sees Eddie watching him.
"I've been dreaming about you. I dreamed about you in the hospital too. And as good as my imagination is, it's never been this good." He smiles a little.
"It just seemed so unreal. I mean... Steve Harrington? It didn't make sense." He almost laughs then, a breathy little sound as he shakes his head again. Steve snorts.
"Yeah. Trust me. I was just as surprised as you. Eddie Munson wasn't really something I was prepared for." Steve admits, smiles at Eddie.
"So you... what you like me?" Eddie asks, nose scrunching, rolling his eyes a bit.
"Yeah. Little bit. I just didn't get the chance to see if you liked me back." Steve shrugs. Eddie laughs then, and it sounds maniacal.
"What?" Steve huffs, his chest feeling lighter already, just the sound of Eddie's laugh after so long making him wanna smile.
"Dude. I've had an unfortunate crush on you since freshman year." Eddie sighs, rolls his eyes. Steve bites his lips, feeling himself going red.
"Really?" Steve asks, his hand inching back toward Eddie's ankle.
"Yeah. Never thought I'd get to even be on your radar. But then these dreams..." he picks up the notebook and drops it again. Steve laughs.
"You were on my radar. We had classes together." Steve mumbles, his ears feeling hot.
"Was I? Really? You seemed pretty wrapped around any girl who smiled at you." Eddie says, teasing, shoving his toes at Steve, pushing them under his thigh. Steve grabs his ankle again, squeezes.
"You were. I just... didn't know it... back then. Didn't know what I was feeling." He shakes his head, frowning. They sit in silence for awhile, and then Eddie taps the notebook again.
"All this stuff is real then? The bats, and the vines, and that creepy house? This all happened?" He sounds unsure again. Steve nods slowly, widens his eyes, stares at Eddie's comforter.
"All real." Steve confirms.
"Could you-" Eddie starts, his hand reaching out, fingers curling around Steve's wrist.  Steve blinks at him.
"Would you tell me? Tell me all the stuff I don't remember?" Eddie asks, his fingers squeezing.
"Like a story?" Steve asks, his free hand moving to cover Eddie's. Eddie nods.
"Yeah. I remember a lot I think, I just need... I need you to tell me what order? Or like... how they happened. So I can peice it together." His brow furrows, like he's not sure. Steve smiles, moves his hand up Eddie’s arm, cups his cheek and smiles when Eddie leans into the touch.
"I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything." Steve breathes between them, his thumb soothing over Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes flutter, he leans closer, Steve leans forward too, like he's being pulled by a magnet. But he feels like he should have been here months ago, like maybe he's been waiting for this moment his whole life.
"Steve?" Eddie whispers his name between them, Steve can feel his breath on his lips.
"Yeah?" Steve asks, his eyes darting between Eddie's lips and his eyes.
"Have we done this before?" He asks, his voice small. Steve smiles, bumps his nose into Eddie's, his head shaking slightly.
"No. This is new." Steve breathes, his fingers moving into the hair at the nape of Eddie neck.
"Oh. Good. I like it." Eddie laughs, a small thing, he sounds giddy. Steve huffs a laugh too, pulls Eddie just a fraction closer.
"I like it too Ed's." He breathes the words against Eddie's lips and closes the space. Smiling into the kiss when Eddie hums happily, his hands grabbing at Steve's shirt.
~°~
They lay in Eddie's bed for the rest of the day, Steve telling him everything. All about Chrissy, and the upside down, and El and Max, all about Vecna. He tells him everything. All of it. And tries not to make it too much about how Eddie got under his skin. Won him over. Made him fall, hard, for this weird nerdy metal head.
And mostly it works, or Steve thinks so, until the moment he's finished talking. Done answering Eddie's questions, there are several. And Eddie pokes him in the ribs and  teases.
"You've got it bad for me huh?" Wiggling his fingers and making Steve squirm. Steve grabs his hands, rolls them over and presses Eddie into the matress. His hands move up Eddie’s wrists, lace their fingers together as Eddie blinks up at him, owlish eyes locked on him.
"Yeah. I've got it bad Munson. That okay with you?" Eddie's mouth opens and Steve dives in, doesn't wait for his answer.
But he doesn't need too. Eddie's dreams had been full of Steve, just like Steve's had been full of him.
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berzahoes · 4 months
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my love is mine all mine | tom blyth
summary: in which tom was the supprt y/n monroe needed
an: i normally don’t have a faceclaim for any of my works but i wanted to make samara weaving the faceclaim for this fic because i love her and she just fits the role 🤍 ofc you can always imagine someone else!! ALSO i know there’s already a film called my week with marilyn lets just pretend it doesn’t exist 😍
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y/nmonroe back in production 🤍
rachelzegler PROUD OF YOUUU❤️
monroearchive thank you for this!!
tomblyth i love you
y/nmonroe love you more 💋
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marilymonroeproductions our lovely president getting ready for our big announcement!
oldhollywoodglam ANNOUNCEMENT?!?? ALREADY
iconicmonroe i hope they sue netflix for making blonde
y/nmonroe 💋❤️
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MY WEEK WITH MARILYN LA SCREENING
y/n and tom were attending a screening of my week with marilyn in secret. she really wanted to see the reactions of a certain part of the film. she was told by the staff that the theater was full which made her nervous and happy.
from the side, she and tom watched as the audience payed close attention to the last few minutes. a picture of marilyn faded out as lana del rey’s say yes to heaven played.
a clip of y/n in holding a newborn baby was shown then it showed tom carrying the baby. “during summer last year, i became a mom. that’s when i got the idea for this film. i want my daughter to know what an amazing woman marilyn was.”
y/n could hear several gasps and even some sobs coming from the audience.
“i named her daisy lorelai blyth.” some people clapped, others gasped when they realized where the name lorelai came from.
y/n turned her attention to tom and kissed him. “thank you for being with me and daisy.”
“you’re my girls.”
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y/nmonroe thank you to everyone who has seen my week with marilyn! it warms my heart to see how many of you loved our film. daisy also wanted to thank you all for loving her movie debut 🤍and a big thank you to tomblyth for helping me make this film. daisy and i love you forever!!!🫶🏼
rachelzegler I MISS DAISY CAN I COME VISIT??
y/nmonroe OF COURSE SHE MISSES HER AUNT RACHEL
monroearchive it was such a beautiful film!
directedbycoppola it’s not out yet in the uk 😭
maximoffxromanoff what is it about?
directedbycoppola so basically when y/n was a child, she was given a camera and for her middle school project she tried to make a documentary about marilyn but she never finished it because she changed schools so this is her finishing it. the trailer looks great and i read articles that it has interviews with jane russell before she passed with a young y/n.
tomblyth i’m so incredibly proud of you! thanks for giving me the greatest gift of being a dad to our daisy ❤️
blythupdates OUR DAISY 😭 DO YOU HEAR ME CRYING??
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moonlightsolo · 2 years
Text
eddie the bloody-handed
summary: your boyfriend, eddie, sacrifices himself in the upside down to keep you and dustin safe- but when you finally go back for him, something else has taken his place.
pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader
warnings: graphic depictions of blood, death, angst, mourning of a character, major spoilers for vol. 2, kinda villain!eddie at the end but with good morals
note: said i was gonna take a long break, but i couldn't help myself when this idea came up. also thinkin about a part 2???
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all you feel is pain. pain as your heart wrings in your chest, as if it will burst at any moment. pain from your lungs not allowing you to take a full breath. pain as your bones ache with grief while you scream out for your dying boyfriend, watching him choke out his last breath.
eddie's body sits limp and heavy in your arms, erratic pleas tumbling from your lips. your hands cup his bloodied face as sobs roll out one after another, searching his still face for any sign of life.
“no, eddie! please! wake up!” your voice echoes in the alternate dimension, coughing hoarsely from the phlegm building in your throat. 
“we have to go. right now. nancy's plan didn't work." steve’s worried eyes come into view in front of you, wide and full of fear. 
"why didn't you just run?" you cry out to eddie, fists desperately grasping at his leather jacket.
harrington stands up after you ignore him, taking a step behind you. his arms swoop under your arms to pull you up to your feet unwillingly, “what?! no!” your voice shrieks in protest. your legs kicking as you fight against his efforts, “steve, please!” you suck in a wheezy breath, your chest shaking and bottom lip quivering. with a grunt, you press a kiss against eddie’s still warm forehead. 
before you’re overtaken by steve’s strength, you yank an arm away from his hold to run your fingers through eddie’s unruly hair you’ve grown to love, “i love you, my sweet eds.” your watery eyes blink out numerous tears above him. the liquid slides off your face and onto eddie’s cheeks, carving tracks through the blood and dirt dormant on his skin. your body goes slack, succumbing to the battle. 
“i’m so sorry.” his voice cracks, the thunder rumbles above you two as your feet drag against the pavement. steve sniffles as he helps you up the stairs of the munson’s trailer, towards the gate in the living room. steve's emotions are getting the best of him. he would never want to do this to one of his best friends, if it wasn't a life or death situation.
the rest of the group has already climbed through with a new rope they found. the discarded one sits beneath the gate, causing the memory of eddie slicing it to save you and dustin to flash in your mind. 
another hiccup tumbles from your lips. a wet sniffle honks from your nose in attempt to suck up the mucus leaking from your nostrils. 
steve aids in helping you climb, his hands sitting respectfully on your waist. “steve… i can’t leave him.” you whimper quietly under your breath, pausing your climbing to glance down.
“i know, honey. i know, just- get through this part and we’ll come back for him. it’s not safe for us to be down here right now.” his thumb rubs your sides in attempt to comfort you, urging you to keep moving. 
your head nods, taking a deep shuttering breath before continuing your climb. small puffs of strained breath fall past your lips until you’re flipped right side up, back hitting the mattress that’s laid out on the ground.
robin’s hand reaches out for you, helping you up to your feet to allow steve to fall through. the floor rumbles beneath your feet, making you second guess if you’re still in the upside down. 
the things around eddie’s trailer begin to tremble, glass clatters and the objects on the wall swing. your eyes dart around at the people around you, their face mimicking your panic-stricken one. 
“steve! hurry up!” nancy shouts at him through the portal, making him quicken in pace, “i’ll be right back!” you announce as you turn on your heel.
��no! y/n! shit- what is she doing? there’s an actual natural disaster happening right now!” robin rants, loud voice slightly cracking as she follows. your legs quickly carry you back to eddie’s room, but not without tumbling into the walls from the force of the ground shaking beneath you. 
the modular home whines and cracks around you as your body frantically pushes through his door. 
the smell of his familiar cologne, weed and tobacco instantly smacks you in the face. tears instantaneously fall down your face, you stumble up to his electric guitar sitting pretty on the wall. 
“come on! we need to go!” dustin screams at you and robin from the other room. the urgency makes you reach out for the instrument, slipping the strap over your head. 
the dresser falls forward, drawers clattering as they fall out onto the floor of his room. you lunge forward to catch it before it could hit the ground, robin runs up to your side to help you keep it steady. 
“i think we really, really need to go. like right now, right now!” her voice is strained with panic. 
“i can’t leave without some of his stuff.” you huff out, dropping to your knees to vigorously search through his pile of clothes on the floor. 
you find two of your favorite band tees before standing up swiftly, snatching his cologne that has fallen to the ground on the way up. robin stands back to let the wardrobe fall, stumbling backwards to clutch your upper arm. 
she starts to lead you down the hallway, but a fallen polaroid catches your eye. you reach down as you run out of the room, snatching the flimsy photo. your eyes glance over it, a teary smile coming to your face when you realized what it is. 
eddie is laying down in his bed with you, arm around your shoulders as you hide your face in his chest. he’s playfully sticking his tongue out at the camera, his hand on your shoulder in a rocker gesture. your poor boy, oh how you wish he would have just ran. 
“holy shit! holy shit!” robin screams, her hectic pace quickens even faster. her scared voice makes you follow her eyes to peer at the ceiling, seeing that the gate has spread down the hallway. 
“come. on! come on!” harrington waves you down from the front doorway, screaming at you both to hurry up. robin practically flies past steve, hopping past the steps instead of using them. 
your arm is tugged along with her, so you have no choice but to follow her movements. you slide into the middle seat of nancy’s car. eyes watching as the gate burns a hole right through the top of the beloved trailer. 
once steve hops into the passenger seat, wheeler screeches out of the grass, punching the gas as she speeds out of the trailer park. 
all three of you in the back turn around to watch the gate crack the home in half, spreading to the ground outside. your heart aches as all the memories you shared with eddie are destroyed- just like that. you sorrowfully turn back around, sinking in your seat as tears silently run down your warm cheeks. 
“everything… is just gone…” you whisper out, fingernails digging into your knees caps through your jeans. dustin tackles your side with a hug, holding onto you desperately as he cries against your shoulder.
he didn’t even have to talk for you to wrap your arms around the boy, the silence in the car is deafening as you comfort each other. 
the ride home is dreadful. the rest of the party was informed that max was taken to the hospital, and the town is completely destroyed from all the gates merging. 
the next few days are even worse. half of hawkins population has been relocated to the high school. where you were involuntarily volunteered to help out, since it’ll be ‘good for you’ to get out.
you’re busy slumming out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the people of hawkins, working in a machine-like routine. robin is occupied with vicki, and steve is somewhere folding clean donated clothes. 
how is this supposed to help? it’s making you feel worse. you’d rather be absentmindedly strumming chords on the guitar instead of-
your running thoughts pause when you notice a crowd forming around the large windows. 
the knife in your hand clatters to the table below you before you run past robin to push through the crowd. your heartbeat pounds against your ears, ignoring the clamor of the people you’re pushing out of the way. 
you come to a clearing, noticing steve staring out the window in the front. you reach out to grip his shoulder to pull yourself to him, stumbling forward out of the packed crowd. his hand instinctively grabs yours to bring you closer to him, holding onto you protectively. 
when you’re close enough, you finally realize why everyone has gathered. to other people, it seems like it’s snowing, but to you and your friends, the familiar upside down dust is floating freely in the air. 
“steve…” you breathe out, hand gripping his just as harshly, “what’s going on?”
he turns his head, giving you a look that makes fear travel down your spine, “i think.. it’s merging with our world. another gate must’ve opened.” 
the sound of another gate opening makes you perk up, mind cranking with millions of thoughts. steve realizes what just clicked in your mind, but he’s too slow to react. you’ve already pulled your hand away from him, and started pushing back through the crowd. 
you need to find this gate in hawkins, you need to find eddie. 
steve calls out your name repeatedly, not having the best luck weaving and bobbing through the crowds as he chases after you. 
your feet take off in a sprint, dodging numerous children and people as you make your way through the maze of corridors in the high school. the area is heavily guarded by military personnel; which means you need to find a way past them. 
you burst through the front doors of the school, trotting quickly down the steps. the door behind you bangs open, a panting steve emerging as he weakly screams your name. 
you stop in your tracks, turning around to look at him with a stern glare.
“steven, you can either you help me, or you can ignore what i’m doing and go back to folding clothes.” you breathe out heavily, giving him an ultimatum. 
he marches up to you, face twisted with frustration, “i don’t think you realize how dangerous it’s going to be to go back! i mean- seriously? there’s militia everywhere, they will shoot-!” 
“you can lecture me all you want, harrington, but you will not change my goddamn mind.” 
steve groans in annoyance, looking up at the darkened sky, “you obviously know i’m not going to let you do this by yourself, right?” he mutters, stressfully running his hand through his hair as he drops his head to stare at his feet. 
a small grin curls up on one side of your mouth, your hands rest proudly on your hips, “i seriously love you, steve. now let’s go.” you slap your hand into his to pull him to your car but he doesn’t budge. 
“we can’t do this alone.” 
steve corrals robin and dustin from inside the school, gives nancy a call, but she refuses to help anyone go back into that hell. (that’s her exact words)
dustin knows exactly where eleven’s hideout is, so steve drives there with the help of dustin’s directions. the car rolls up to a very old, almost destroyed cabin. 
the inter-dimensional dust seems to be thicker around this part, and there’s nobody to be found. “come on.” you usher, hopping out of the backseat to run towards the house. you knuckles rap against the wooden door, but to no avail. 
you hop down the steps, ignoring the rest of them to run around back. you notice a trail that leads through the forest, so you opt to follow it; even with steve’s fatherly protests. 
it seems like you’re going the right way since the dust is growing thicker, almost as if a gate is nearby. you come across a clearing, a grassy hill scattered with wildflowers. the scene behind it catches your eye, dark smoke billows into the sky from the cracked open earth. 
it resembles a scene out of a fantasy book, like lava is spewing from the depths of the planet. the group is standing farther down the hill, surrounding something on the ground. 
you run up to them, chest constricting with anxiety as you grow closer. there it is- the gate.
the people around you call your name in surprise from your arrival, but it falls upon deaf ears. every form of self-preservation is screaming at you to not jump through, but your heart aches for eddie; to find him and put his body to rest.
as you’re about to step through the gate, your body is held captive by someone gripping the back of your metallica t-shirt, “what do you think you’re doing?” 
your head spins around to the person holding you back, seeing hopper, alive and well. “oh my god!” you shriek, throwing yourself at the man who quickly hugs you back with a hearty laugh. 
“hey kid. how you doing?” his deep voice rumbles. this doesn’t seem real. 
the floodgates let loose, tears soaking into his shirt. “i’m terrible.” you sniffle, wiping your nose with your hand, “my boyfriend… he- he died in there.” you point back at the gate with your lip quivering. 
“i want to get him. bring him back to give him a proper burial. i just- i left him in there.” you sob, digging your face into his chest. 
“hey, hey. i don’t think going back there is the best idea right now. we need a plan.”
you pull away from him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “i do have a plan. i’ve been thinking about it for days. i know what i need to do.” you pull away from him, turning on your heel to stare down directly into the gate. 
it seems as if everything slows down around you. before you could decide if you want to jump into it, a tentacle from the gate whips out at your foot. the slimy extremity spirals up your leg to grip your body, pulling you harshly to the ground. 
a scream leaves your mouth as you’re tugged towards the mouth of it, “no!” you yelp, scratching at the ground, dirt building up under your nails. you wanted to make this decision yourself, not to be forcefully taken in.
flashes of your friends running after your helpless body are seen between your head being hit repeatedly against the ground. your body is lashed around by the violent force of the creature as you fight against its efforts. 
your strength is nothing compared to it, unable to keep yourself in your own world. the tentacle tightens it’s grip on your ankle as it pulls your body into the alternate dimension. 
the thing detaches from you, throwing your body into the air as you scream into the oblivion. gravity takes over and you’re sent hurling towards the ground. your side slams into the solid terrain, your lungs left unable to work. 
all the air is punched out of your body, instantly struggling to breathe as you army crawl away from the insistent tentacle. “augh- fuck.” you wheeze, unable to take a fully deep breath from the air being knocked out of you.
you roll onto your back, looking over at the gate that’s sealing up in the ground. the once colorful flowers around you seem to have molded and withered away, the sky is dark and menacing, lightning flashing red. 
your consciousness seems to fade in and out, head twirling dizzily. you blink in attempt to clear your fuzzy eyesight, lungs finally regaining some strength. 
your hand rests on your chest as you breathe in all the upside down grime. you close your eyes for a moment to try and relax, taking in deep and slow yet painful breaths. 
something above you blasts air in your face, making you gasp and whip your eyes open. the dark silhouette of a large bat-like creature in the sky is shown by the flashing lightning. 
adrenaline kicks in your nervous system, activating your fight or flight response. your legs scramble beneath you as the bat nose dives, and barrels down right towards you. 
“shit shit shit shit!” you screech when you notice it growing closer, hands coming up to hide your face. it’s cold grasp embraces your body, trapping your arms by your sides and lifting you up into the sky.
the freezing air whips through your hair, your eyes hesitantly squint open to look around you. red flashes in the clouds you’re flying through, making your body tremble with fear. even with the cold temperature of the sky, sweat pools on the back of your neck.
the monster soars through the air, it’s fur slightly tickling your nose. since you’re pressed into it’s chest, you didn’t dare to look up at its face. you’re not dead… yet, so you decide to glance at your attacker. 
it seems almost human like- it’s skin is soft, yet deathly pale, almost grey. it’s wearing a bloodied white shirt, it’s scarred sides in full view from the torn holes. you realize that it’s not fur, it’s curly hair that adorns it’s head. 
oh my god. 
the jawline, the hair, the ripped up hellfire club shirt… 
“eddie?” you scream out over the loud wind in your ears. instantly, tears spring to your eyes as you wiggle in his grasp to bring one of your hands out. his tight grasp doesn’t budge, not letting you move as he traps you against his chest. 
eddie drops beneath the clouds, making you squeal from the feeling in your abdomen. his arms tighten protectively around you before his wings widen, stopping the airflow to gently lower you both to the ground. 
once your feet touch the grass, you stumble backwards to fully look at him. it’s eddie, but he doesn’t look like your eddie. his skin is much paler, clothes torn where he was bitten by the demo-bats, wings folded fingertips black with long dark nails, and leather jacket scuffed and ripped from his protruding wings. 
“eds?” you call out his name again, stepping forward with your hand out. his head hangs, frizzy hair covering his face as he shakes and grips the roots at the top of his head.
“baby, please. look at me.” your voice whimpers out desperately, tears running down your cheeks. 
“stay away!” he raises his voice, making you stop in your tracks. his shoulders quiver as he silently cries into his hands, “i’m a monster. i don’t want you to see me like this. why did you come back?”
you take another careful step towards him, waiting for him to tell you no before you take another one, “my love. you’re not a monster.” you mutter with a breathy laugh. 
his head lifts up, looking at you with bright glossy red eyes instead of the dark brown ones you’ve grown so fond of. you stop to stare at him, looking over his slightly sunken cheeks. his perfect lips are still plump, and slightly pink. 
“but i am.” he talks, flashing his pearly fangs in his mouth. the sight makes your blood run cold, but you refuse to let him know that it terrifies you. 
“no, eds. you’re not.” you shake your head with a watery smile, reaching both your hands out for him. his bright eyes dart towards you, then to your hands then back down to his.
shakily, he lifts his arms so his hands were hovering above yours, fingertips grazing against each other’s. you slightly raise your hands, fingers wrapping around his slender wrists. the temperature of his skin is a great contrast to yours. it feels as if he’s been outside in the snow all day.
“i don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.” his voice is timid, quiet and scared. 
“you won’t. i know you won’t.” you let your hands travel up his familiar arms, feeling the muscles and once full veins under his skin. you let your hands travel to his waist, pulling yourself towards him to embrace his rigid body. 
at first, he’s tense when your body presses into his, but he soon softens against your touch. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, letting out a relieved shaky breath. “god, i missed you so much.” 
“eds, you died in my arms. i thought i was never going to see you again.” you mumble into his dirty shirt, voice muffled. 
“i did, but i woke up once you left. i turned into... whatever this is,” he motions to his body, “think i’m part demo-bat, or somethin’.” he chuckles, fluttering his wings behind him. 
“like kas the bloody-handed, from d and d.” 
“kas?” he tilts his head back to look at you with a sly smirk, “hearing you say that was so sexy.” 
“only learned from the best.” you bring your pointer finger up to poke his nose, making his face scrunch up. 
“can i kiss you or will you bite me?” 
“maybe i will… maybe i won’t.” he shrugs playfully, gripping your hips to pull you closer. his infamous smirk makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. 
you stand slightly on the tips of your toes, craning your neck up to peck a wary kiss against his cool lips. he chuckles against you, dipping down to catch his lips with yours again.  
the temperature sends a shock down your spine, goosebumps rising on the surface of your skin. his nails slowly drag up the back of your arm, making another shiver wrack through your body. 
the sharpness of his fangs press into your bottom lip as he deepens the kiss, wiggling his tongue past your lips to press against yours. 
eddie’s hands glide down your sides to rest on the swell of your ass, squeezing the plushy flesh there. his wings flap happily behind him, curling in around your bodies to shield you both from the surroundings. 
you pull back from the kiss, eyes fluttering open to look around, noticing the fleshy wings circled around you. “eds, you’re so beautiful.” you stare up into his crimson irises, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. 
the boy nuzzles his cheek into your palm like a puppy, happy to be here with you in this moment. touching you, feeling your warm skin under his icy fingertips. 
the crunch of footsteps behind you makes him tug you against his chest possessively, wings tightening around your body to hide you as he whips around towards the sound. 
eddie lets out a loud hiss, showing his fangs at the aggressors in front of him. his eyes are intimidating, baring his teeth as he tries to ward off the intruders. 
“hey, hey, hey!” someone attempts to calm him down, their voice deep and muffled by something. “we don't want to hurt you. we’re looking for someone! a girl. she came in here, did you see her?” 
his eyes flicker between the people, muscles softening against you. his wings slowly unravel, letting you in view. when you turn on your heel, you don’t exactly recognize them at first. 
two men are standing in front of you, clothed in protective gear, flashlights and weapons in hand and bandanas over their nose and mouth. “steve? hopper?” you breathe out, squinting to get a better look. 
“hey, yeah- it’s us.” steve’s eyes flicker to eddie, looking fearful of the winged man. “harrington?” eddie calls out with a shocked tone, hands on his hips as he leans forward to stare at him for a moment.
“should’ve known by the hair.” he gestures with a twirl on top of his own head, “sorry, buddy.” he chuckles, “didn’t mean to scare ya.” 
“what happened?” harrington asks, eyes raking over munson’s silhouette with a frightened look. 
“long story short… those uh bats? turned me into a vampire, kind of thing.” he nods his head once he thinks he explained it good enough, pursing his lips awkwardly. 
“y/n. we have to go. you can’t stay here, come on.” hopper waves his hand as he moves toward you. 
your eyebrows furrow, taking a step towards eddie. “i’m not leaving him. i just got him back.” you wrap your arms around his side. 
eddie pulls you in protectively as hopper sighs and takes another slow step towards you both, “i don’t want to fight with you, let’s just go. it’s not safe.” 
“excuse me. i don’t know who you are, but she says she doesn’t want to go, and frankly, i don’t want her to either.” eddie grows more and more protective by the moment, upper lip slightly twitching as he yearns to snarl. 
the man completely disregards eddie, “did you not hear me correctly? it’s. not. safe. you can’t be breathing in all this shit for a long period of time.” hopper grows impatient, his broad shoulders huffing. 
steve is behind him, eyes darting nervously between everyone as he stays quiet. “you gonna help me, or what, kid?” hopper shouts back at steve who clears his throat and steps forward. 
“yeah, uh. you should probably listen to him.” 
“or what?” you snap back, chest rising and falling quicker as anger brews deeply inside of you. 
“or i’m going to drag your ass out of here.” jim states, obviously loosing his cool. 
“over my dead body.” eddie steps forward, almost chest to chest with the taller man. his fangs slightly show as he finally snarls at him. 
hopper let’s out a chuckle, but not one that’s sounds like you just told him a joke. “huh, okay.” his hand rests on the weapon in the holster of his waist. 
“eddie. get us out of here.” you whisper up to your boyfriend, in fear for both of your safety. “hold on tight.” his arms wrap around your waist as he launches himself from the ground and into the air. 
“hey?! hey!” hopper and steve yell at you both, watching from the ground as eddie disappears into the clouds. 
your body shivers from the below freezing temperatures of the high altitude, gripping his body for some sort of solace. 
“hold on, baby. tryna find your house.” he dips beneath the clouds, eyes looking over the area until he finds your home. he drops to the ground, leading you up to your doorstep. 
eddie pushes open the front door, letting you walk inside first before following behind. he locks the door behind you both, letting you look around at your home. 
“it’s like mine… but different.” you breathe out, walking up the steps to find your room. eddie folds his wings behind his back as he follows you up the staircase. 
the door to your bedroom is already cracked open, letting you slip inside easily. the bed is messy and thankfully not covered in vines, “i’ve been staying here. since mine got destroyed by the giant gate.” he clears his throat awkwardly, watching you as you peer at all your familiar things. 
“can you sleep?” you ask, turning to look at him leaning against the doorway. 
“nope, i tried.” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “doesn’t mean i can’t cuddle with you while you do.” his eyes perk up, awaiting for your answer with a little smile. 
“of course, darling. you can always cuddle me.” you plop on the bed, patting the empty space beside you. 
eddie sulks up to you, sinking into the soft mattress. “you know, i tried to leave through a gate and it burned me. i mean, i healed quickly, but it hurt like a mother-fucker.” 
your worried eyes flash to him, “wait- you can’t leave?”
he shrugs in response, gulping when he notices your emotions growing stronger, “don’t worry ‘bout it right now, babe. we’ll get henderson down here and that nerd will figure something out.” he wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down into the bed. 
“but for now, get some rest, okay? i can tell you’re tired.” he tucks you in under the blankets along with himself beside you. 
he stares down into your eyes as he slightly hovers above you, “everything will be okay.” he pecks your lips with a reassuring smile. 
“you’re right, we’ll figure something out.” you give him one last kiss before succumbing into his side, nuzzling against him to get comfortable enough to be able to fall asleep. 
one of his wings sneaks underneath you, wrapping around the side of your body like a canopy. he absentmindedly presses soft kisses to your face, enjoying watching you sleep.
“i love you.” he whispers to your sleeping self, before he begins to press kisses down to your jaw, making his way to your neck. 
eddie let’s his cold tongue poke over your jugular vein, feeling the heartbeat pumping blood through your body. his mouth salivates at the feeling, knowing you’ll be so tasty. you’re his girl, everything about you is tasty. 
he’s careful not to wake you up while he drags his fangs across your soft skin. every bone in his body aches to feed, to sink his teeth into you.
the animalistic urges take over, eyes tearing up from being unable to control himself. a hoarse hiss emits from his mouth, making you jolt awake. he presses his nose into your skin as you wake up, “eddie?” your pretty voice whispers out to him, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge. 
he trembles in your arms, lips opening to mouth at your skin, “eddie, you’re scaring me, baby. get off.” you whimper, pushing more aggressively against him. 
“i’m so sorry. i just- i can’t be without you... please forgive me. i love you.” he weeps softly in your ear. 
his words makes you go still, eyes going wide when you realize his fangs are pressing into your skin. “eddie!” you yelp once the pain grows hot on your neck, pushing your hands roughly at his chest. 
a cry tumbles past your lips, his wings curl around you to hold you steady. his strength is no match against you as he slurps at your delicious blood. 
the thick warm liquid hits his tongue, an almost orgasmic moan gurgles out against your neck, “eddie, please!“ your cries grow softer as more blood is drained from you. 
the hits against his chest slowly fade to nothing as you go limp in his arms. he pulls back instinctively with a gasp, wiping his wet mouth on the back of his hand. 
he cups your face once he realizes what he’s done, “i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so sorry.” he wails above you, wiping at the seeping blood on your neck with his hand. his thumbs swipe under your eyes to dry up your tears.
“you’ll wake up soon, sweetheart. everything will be okay.” 
-
tags: @authorlovers @powerfultenderness
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Pt VIII good omens a spoiler-free trailer
*walks into church, ignoring the gasps of the congregation* *holds mic to a terrified gentleman's face*
Have you ever wondered, what if the flaming sword at the Garden of Eden was insufferably in love with the Serpent?
*doesn't wait for response, shoves mic in shaking lady's face*
What if I told you, your bible studies are incomplete, because they are missing the most important story of all?
*cut to me in front of a white screen, walking seductively toward camera in a suit*
Worry not, for your prayers have been answered. Presenting, Good Omens, a kind-of biblically accurate story by Sir Terry Pratchett and Tumblr's own @neil-gaiman, now a TV show and queerer than ever. All you AO3 slow-burn hoes, we see you. You asked for it, you got it. Childhood friends is so last millennium, we give you instead, six thousand years of mutual pining.
*hard cut to David Tennant, whom I have stuck to a chair with Elmer's glitter glue* *he struggles, in vain*
Starring David Tennant and his signature slutty walk as Crowley, now in a ginger Barbie edition that comes with demonic eyes, every hairstyle and gender you could ever dream of, and instant outfit changes. It really is a miracle!
*camera swivels to focus on Michael Sheen, who is bound in blankets and looking deeply concerned*
Starring Michael Sheen the fae shapeshifter as Aziraphale, the sweetest, most cherubic murderous bitchy angel you've ever seen. Special features include automatic heart-eyes the moment he is faced with Crowley, a charming disregard for casual massacre in the name of God, and the instant outfit changes. Watch him melt your heart before breaking it! Bonus tip: try giving him sushi!
*cut back to the white screen, I am now sitting uncomfortably close to the camera*
Follow Aziraphale and Crowley as they alternatively try to follow and thwart God's ineffable plan, managing to spectacularly fail at both tasks with a consistency that amazes as it befuddles. Featuring alcohol, a bookstore, and metaphorical and literal fire as things get a little... heated in the Bible fandom.
*crossfade to Soho, I walk along the street as the camera follows me*
If that isn't enough to convince you, presenting also, idiot lesbians giving an ancient demon love advice, sexy horsepersons of the apocalypse, an unofficial wedding combined with burning Nazis alive where the most important part is the handing over of a suitcase, and the sexiest MILF witch Agnes Nutter, a literal bombshell.
*cut to disturbing close up of Neil Gaiman's face* *he tries to step away, and is met with my camerapersons*
Watch Neil Gaiman give you hope and shatter it again repeatedly, in a show where the literal apocalypse is only the background to a forbidden idiots who are lovers-to-lovers who are idiots story that is older than Time itself. Armageddon takes a backseat as Crowley serves gender, and if you thought the Antichrist was adorable, wait till you see him in Good Omens, where his evil powers are directed towards being the cutest kid he can possibly be.
*cut back to white screen, I smile ominously while twirling a human bone*
Good Omens, at your nearest Amazon Prime, with free UST, fluff, Queen, and plenty of tears. Don't miss it!
*text rapidly rolls across screen*
[Imagery has been used for representative purposes. No David Tennant, Michael Sheen or Neil Gaiman was harmed in the process of creating this advertisement. Good Omens will have expected side-effects, including unprompted sobbing, a Pavlovian reaction to bandstands, nightingales, holy water and 'the final fifteen', heartache for the foreseeable future, and intense lust for Crowley's elusive gender. Asmi is not responsible for any consequences resulting from the advertised product. Some features have been excluded from the advertisement due to space and time constraints.]
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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 19
Part 1 Part 18
Eddie comes back to himself with Will Byers slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He’s standing in front of his trailer, panting like he’d run all the way here.
He probably had. His thighs have their own heartbeats, pulsing off-beat with the thrumming of his heart where it’s up in his throat.
He puts Will down. The kid’s crying. Eddie is, too.
He wants to run back, find Steve. Even with his legs shaking so hard they barely hold him. Even without a weapon. Even if Steve’s probably already dead. But Steve said to keep the kid safe, so that’s what he’s going to do.
He pushes the door open, leading Will in by the shoulder. His fingertips are numb – static running through them until he can’t feel Will’s body hitching with sobs. The sound of them is muffled, too.
“It’ll be okay,” he says, feeling very far away. His throat feels like mincemeat. Has he been screaming? He can’t have been. There’s no monster on his door.
“My Mom—” Will says. He’s curled into a ball in Wayne’s chair. When did he get there?
“Steve’ll keep her safe.”
Eddie knows it’s true as he says it. Remarkably, Steve Harrington is a good dude, and isn’t that the worst fucking thing in the world to realize right now? Steve Harrington had risked his life for a little kid he barely knows, a lady he’s probably only met in the grocery store check-out line, and a high schooler who’s guts he hated a few days before.
And now he’s dead.
Eddie keeps thinking about his last words. They keep running through his mind, steady enough to keep time with, even as his heartbeat speeds up enough to make his blood vessels feel tight. “I’ll see you at home.” Home being the Munson’s trailer. Home being where there’s a little boy and Eddie fucking Munson waiting for him to make it out alive.
Who says that?
Steve fucking Harrington promised to come home when there was no chance of making it out alive.
Will is still crying in Wayne’s recliner, and Eddie wishes, desperately that his Uncle were here now. He’d know how to comfort Will, how to get out of here. How to keep Steve safe.
But he’s not here, so Eddie kneels by the chair and hold Will’s hand while he cries. It could last hours or minutes. Eddie doesn’t know. He’s not really here.
Not when Will asks, “will Steve be okay?”
Not when he replies, “Steve’s like an action hero, Byers. He’ll be walking through that door at any moment.”
Not when Will’s answering silence echoes through the room like condemnation.  
His tears have dried on his face, sticky with salt. He doesn’t notice when Will reaches over and wipes them away.
Eddie Munson isn’t in the living room waiting for Steve Harrington to come through the door.
He’s still in the Byers’ hallway, watching King Steve raise his gun. There’s no fear on his face, just a heartbreaking mix of wistfulness and resolve.
Eddie wants to know what he was thinking in that moment, with that expression. Was he standing there with a monster in front of him, wishing more than anything that he was hiding back in Eddie’s bedroom all the while, knowing his rightful place was right there saving lives?
Was he back further still, both in that hallway, and in the cafeteria trading pudding cups with Carol Perkins, standing at the threshold of a realistic fantasy and an unending nightmare?
Maybe he wasn’t thinking anything at all.
Eddie will never know. Steve Harrington is dead. And Eddie wasn’t there.
“Eddie?” Will asks. He sounds scared. Eddie comes back. Steve said to keep Will safe, and he will. “You need water.”
Eddie laughs. It sounds more like he’s choking. “You’re the one crying, baby Byers.”
Neither of them comment on the dried tracks running down Eddie’s own cheeks.
Eddie’s knees feel like concrete as he gets up to go retrieve his backpack. It’s not by the door, not along the path from the entrance to the living room. He checks his bathroom and bedroom, can’t quite remember where he’s been. It’s not there.
“I think I left my backpack at your house,” Eddie says, then laughs, struck hysterical at the way it comes out. Like he’d just gone to Will’s house after school to hang out, and not to contact his Mom from the wrong side of the beyond.
“I still have mine,” Will says.
He slithers forward in the chair, giving himself enough room to slide it down his shoulders from where it’s still strapped to his back.
They only put two bottles in the kid’s pack, not wanting to bog him down, but it should be enough for today, at least.
As they drink from separate bottles, grimacing at the taste of silt, Eddie’s thinking about how he’ll have to get more water tomorrow. Without Steve. Should he go alone? Should he bring the kid? Should he curl up in a ball and die?
Steve took the only viable weapon and fucked off to die. It hits him suddenly; how goddamn angry he is. How dare he? Couldn’t he have pulled this shit a few days ago when his only attachment to Harrington was that he was another living person, that Eddie wouldn’t have to be alone? How could he do this, after they’d played D&D, and played truth and dare, and survived together.
Steve Harrington had carved out a little spot for himself in Eddie’s sternum and then went off to die.
He doesn’t notice his hands shaking until Will crouches in front of him, grabs the open water bottle, and caps it.
“Shit,” Eddie says. “Sorry, kid.”
“Steve will be okay,” Will says, like he believes it and not like he’s just repeating Eddie’s own bullshit back at him.
Eddie nods. The anger is sucked out of him as quick as it arrived. His chin is trembling, and it feels like a lozenge is stuck in his throat. He swallows it, coughs out a “yeah.”
Will pushes Eddie’s bangs back and almost petting him in a move he definitely learned from Mama Byers. At the edges of his eyesight, he can see his bangs spring back down at wonky angles. He doesn’t bother fixing it.
“He beat Xanathar, he can definitely kick a Demogorgon’s butt,” Will says, smiling with his lips, but not his eyes.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, trying for his usual pep, moving forward anyway when it falls flat. “He’s going to come bursting through the door at any moment on his noble stead and tell us tales of his vanquishment of the great evil.”
They smile at each other vacantly. Will folds himself into Eddie’s side. The warmth is comforting. Nice. Eddie slides his arm around the kid, pulling him closer.
They wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Will’s asleep, face pressed into his ribs, by the time Eddie’s eyes start drooping. The stressful day is catching up to him. The days of hunger and fear stacking on top of his eyelids, pulling them down. But he can’t sleep.
If he falls asleep, the day will be over, and Steve Harrington won’t have come back.
He fights it. He loses. He sleeps.
The door creaks when it’s opened – a rusty hinge Uncle Wayne’s meant to oil for years.
It’s not Sir Steven on his noble steed, with his sword held high in victory. No. It’s even better. Steve Harrington stands at the threshold, a little worse for wear. There’s a bloody scratch cutting across his forehead, heading alarmingly up and into his signature hair. His shirts muddy, and there’s a bruise blooming alone his cheekbone. But he’s breathing. He’s alive.
Eddie loses time again, but it’s okay now because he’s in front of Steve, and he’s looking into his pretty, brown, living eyes. He slaps his face, once, too hard. Doesn’t even notice his hand moved until the sound echoes through the room.
Eddie darts forward, kissing the spot, three times quickly. He’s smearing snot and tears across King Steve’s face, and he couldn’t care less.
He feels out of control, untethered and wild, until Steve wraps his arms around Eddie tight. Eddie hugs back, harder than he should when Steve’s injuries remain largely a mystery.
But if he doesn’t keep his hold on the other boy, he thinks he might shake apart.
“You’re alive,” he says, wet and shaking, voice muffled into Steve’s neck.
Steve laughs. It vibrates through Eddie’s cheek, shakes something loose in his chest. “Yeah.” It’s barely a breath, but he hears it. “I said I’d come home.”
Steve Harrington is alive. And he came home.
Part 20
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goldustwomun · 7 days
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bite the hand (e.m.)
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pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader
summary: things come crashing down around you when you watch eddie from the sidelines of the stage. you know you shouldn't leave but you beg eddie for forgiveness anyway.
warnings: (unedited) more angst folks i think i'm going through something, established relationship, swearing, tears crying sobbing (for eddie but you too babes x), i use face and features too many times but we move
wc: 2.0k+
note: short and (not so?) sweet :) :( i'm really struggling to sustain my writing for very long but oh well xoxo
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Here’s the best part distilled for you But you want what I can’t give to you Your hands are gravity while my hands are tied
He should’ve known it’d get to you eventually. The screams and cries of thousands for him and only him, because as much as he stood, awestruck, by the talent of the others, it was always his name the crowd went hysterical for: Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. They’d chant and sway and go all but rabid when his black mop of hair would peak from around the stage, teasing in that very ‘Eddie’ way that you were all too familiar with when he’d feel a little more playful in bed. His mischievous eyes and quirked lips, tattooed skin and leather-clad thighs. He was the embodiment of a devilish smile, dripping, oozing, even, with sex appeal and charisma.
But it wasn’t just you, now, who noticed those things about him. The two of you weren’t perched on a bench outside of Wayne’s trailer anymore, smirking into the other’s mouth after a particularly strong joint he had rolled from his stash, legs resting on top of him as you were all but sat in his lap. Neither were you the sole body in the crowd of the Hideout, the only one out of the tens of patrons to be hanging onto every rasp of Eddie’s voice, every strum of his long fingers against the guitar.
It wasn’t just you, now, who noticed those things about him, and you knew because of the hundreds of letters he got, every other week on mail day, from adoring fans and sycophants and a few stalkers. You knew because of the way the crowd stretched so far into the distance that you couldn’t see where it ended, the countless bodies moving like a singular mass of pure, unaltered adoration for the man who assured you it’s you, it’s only ever going to be you.
“Penny for your thoughts?” And his voice broke you from the road you were beginning to travel down. You tried your best to force the smile on your lips, and really, you think he knew you were faking it but the giddy energy from the show he was soon going to be playing had already begun to fizzle through his bones and so he ignored it. He took it, instead, for something genuine despite the way it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Only a penny, Munson?” you scoffed at an attempt of playfulness. “I know for a fact you could offer me a lot more than a penny.” He laughed and your belly dipped, even all these years later, when he pressed his lips to your cheek. Eddie Munson might have been a kind of lust personified but he was also the sweetest human being you’d ever known.
“Ah, you’re right. My girl deserves much, much more,” and his lips began their slow descent from your face to the crook of your neck, fixated on that one spot that would have you shivering in mere seconds. He stopped for a moment; face still buried into your flushed skin— “Two pennies then?”
You groaned – “Eddie” -- at his pitiful attempts of humour (but really you loved it), shoving him away even if you didn’t really mean it.
“I’m only kidding, sweets, I’m only kidding!” he cooed at you, soothing your pout until it melted into that smile of yours that he loved to be the cause of as his fingers traced meaningless patterns into the exposed skin at your hip. “Forgive me?” he begged, his turn to pout now.
And it was comical, really, the way you gave into him, whatever doubts you had crumbling at the very feel of him against you, his words forcing whatever walls you were beginning to build-up only moments before to crumble into nothing at your interlaced feet.
“Always, Eddie,” you promised, voice leaving you at barely a whisper. And when you continued, heart thrumming as you waited for his answer, your words wavered: “Do you forgive me, too?”
He watched, confused, as the question left your lips, head tilted like a puppy unsure of his surroundings. “What would I ever need to forgive you for?” he asked, soft.
“Just—do you? Would you? Forgive me?”
He stared into your eyes, a penetrating gaze, begging you for an answer and explanation for your behaviour, but when you remained quiet he acquiesced. “Like you said, sweetheart: always.”
You nodded, that same, tight smile appearing on your features. The sound of a knock on his dressing room door pulled the both of you out of whatever daze hung, limp, in the air, and Eddie moved past you to answer.
“Five minutes to go, Eddie. Need to get you mic-ed up.” You couldn’t hear his answer (probably something along the lines of ‘Be right there’) over the roaring in your ears. The door clicked close again as a warm hand traveled to your waist, turning you in-place. Eddie’s hand moved to cradle your face in his palms, touch cautious like he always was when it was just the two of you. Like you were splintered glass, on the verge of breaking.
“Going to come watch outside, yeah?” And how could you say no to him and his big, brown eyes. So you nodded, followed him through the corridor leading towards stage left. People rushed around, gathering wires, plugging amps and checking cables with the kind of frenzy you’d never get used to despite having been there for almost all his shows.
Gareth, Jeff and Doug were already huddled in a corner, cheeks split into nervous grins. They waved Eddie over who gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before joining them, face dipping as someone came in to swipe some powder over his face.
You don’t remember what happened after that because the next thing you knew, the band was rushing onto the stage, the arena blacked-out, and the moments the light switched on, a deafening roar erupted from the crowd, bright lights carving out their bodies from the darkness. You edged closer to the stage, only just visible from behind a curtain, when the crowd came into view.
And you hated it, the way your gut twisted, mind reeled. You know if you had just said something, anything, to Eddie when it had begun, weeks ago on the first night of the tour. Someone had slipped a note into your back pocket as you and Eddie pushed through a crowd, security walling you in. But you had felt it, and you just knew what it was going to say.
It wasn’t the first and it wasn’t the last, but you had to applaud its author for the precision with which their words sliced at your very core, holding a mirror up to every insecurity you had ever had (and more you hadn’t even considered) until your hands were shaking, fierce.
When you stared out into the crowd, when your gaze connected with someone right in the front, and a look of disgust overtook them, you felt that lest tether inside of you snap free. The air knocked from your lungs, that same cold feeling of fear dripping down your back.
Eddie must have seen it, he was watching you the entire time, having tuned into your every move since the two of you had left his dressing room. He knew you were acting odd, skittish, like a petrified cat getting ready to flee. So when you retreated, he motioned to Jeff to keep the crowd busy before running off on in search of you.
He called after you, having bulked up enough since high school to catch up with you with ease. When you moved faster at the sound of his voice, he did too, finding you pacing in the haven of his dressing room. He shut the door, locking it, before approaching you, slow, cautious, like the floor was uneven and you on a precipice.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked, unsure.
You weren’t facing him so when your shoulders began to shake, he wasn’t sure if you were crying or laughing. But when you turned, face splotchy and chest heaving, he rushed forward, gathering you in his arms.
“What is it, my sweet girl. What’s wrong?” he murmured into the top of your head, holding you tight so that the pressure of his embrace might calm you down enough to talk, to explain or clarify or at least quell the rapid thrum of his worried heartbeat.
“I can’t Eddie, I just—” you hiccupped, voice muffled by the sound of his t-shirt— “I can’t do it.”
“It’s alright, love, just try, yeah? Just—whatever comes to mind—”
“No—You don’t get it—” and you pulled away, the distance between the two of you growing with every moment in more ways than one. “I can’t do this. This thing—” you motioned between you, and he froze.
“You can’t do what?” his voice hardening, on the offensive, and his face contorted to prepare him for the worst.
“Eddie. It’s too much. It’s been too much for so long and I know I should’ve—” a sob ripped from your chest and all he wanted to do was reach for you, his body yearned for it, but he knew better. “—I should’ve said something ages ago. Not let it go so far but it’s too late and you can blame me for—”
“—for what! Us? This? Is that all we are? Some vague abstract of now? Just come out and say it.” he was exploding, erupting, Vesuvius and Pompeii. “Go on. Say it.”
And it was your turn to yell and shout and hurl until your lungs seized. “It’s killing me, Eddie! I feel like I’m fucking dying here. I can’t compete with them, not anymore. I’m exhausted and I feel—I feel fucking heavy.” You were panting from the force of your words, the weight they carried, and you had been carrying.
“There’s no competition, sweetheart. There will never be a competition,” he pleaded, stumbling a step closer but you pushed back.
“I know you feel that way, Eds. I know you do—” his heart squeezed at the nickname. “—I know this is irrational in so many ways. It shouldn’t matter that your fans fucking despise me,” and he flinched at the crudeness of your words. “But there’s one of me and millions—holy shit, there’s millions of them, Eddie. They’re suffocating me and I just—I want to breathe, again. I need to breathe.”
The walls were crashing and crumbling and nothing he said would help to rebuild them, not this time. And he must have sensed it because it was like the air was knocked out of his lungs, too, and he fell to his knees in front of you, clinging to you like maybe if he held on tight enough, he could stop you from leaving.
“Please. My love. My sweet girl. You’re it. You’re always it,” and it must have hit him, what you had meant earlier, because he couldn’t stop rambling, stop repeating: “I forgive you. I forgive you, always, my love. It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re mine and I forgive you.”
Your heart cracked open then, your hand cradling his tear-soaked face to where he was burrowing himself into the pillow of your stomach. You couldn’t bear it anymore, to hear him, see him, touch him, whilst you cut away the pieces of your love. You brushed the hair from his forehead, your own tears falling on him and he cursed himself for making you cry.
You still don’t know if what you did was from a place of strength or weakness, if the way you went about it, with thousands still waiting for him mere feet away, was cruel or kind. But you needed to do it, or at least, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself in your head.
That and Eddie, Eddie, Eddie -- your mind chanted.
You were the only audience he ever needed. If only you knew.
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As always, reblog + comment if you enjoyed this or want more! Requests are opennnnn :D
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