any little!eddie munson headcannons? you almost never post about him besides cameos ;(
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oooooh i love eddie so much you don’t even know— biggest sibby vibes from him!! i haven’t done headcannons in a bit, so here you go :3
the chaotic older kid of the party. eddie’s a flip (w/ no particular lean), and his headspace isn’t as mapped out as everyone else but he’s around 6-7
that being said, he acts different depending on who’s around— older, more ‘taking you under my wing’-way with stevie + the younger kids, but like a total baby when nancy and wayne come around
obsessed with dragons. you thought it was bad when he was big? now everything has to relate back to them, and every dragon he sees has to be immediately fawned over and discussed !
he chews his nails bad, and whenever someone catches him, he switches over to gnawing at the ends of his hair
suuuper into wayne’s old records when he’s little— they remind him of the past, and wayne’s always happy to turn them on to see his boy’s smile :)
always trying to sneak something he’s not supposed to !! everything just seems to be ten times better tucked in his pocket than sitting all alone
he’s a rock collector— toddling around the trailer park looking for the super-duper-coolest-ever rocks to show off to the party !!
a total troublemaker.
really, he never fails to wind up in the corner or having to write lines, or some other thing nancy’ll make up so ‘the lesson sticks’
he’s a clinger when he’s feeling fuzzier than usual, and whenever he goes down as far as that, eddie trails around his carers, hiding under shirts, and hanging off of them like a koala
he’s a sensory seeker already, but being small increases that by tenfold !! he’s rubbing up against his favorite textures, and spinning just for the heck of it :3
he’s always coloring or doodling, pages on pages of scribby dragons and other mythical creatures he tries to recreate from his figurines
just about everyone’s got a dragon or two tucked away with eddie’s name on it somewhere in their room. he gives them out like business cards
he’s nightmare prone obviously, and when things get particularly bad, he’s knocking on the door to the mayfield trailer so max can entertain him till he falls back asleep
and when susan’s in better shape, she silently leaves a few of those triscuts and cheese cubes eddie likes so much on max’s dresser
he’s all about being loud, loud, loud !! loud, stimmy stomps, loud outside voice inside the trailer’s thin walls, loud, dramatic reactions when he doesn’t get his way—
when he’s sick, he’s a monster, but god forbid he be little and sick at the same time. nothing but complaints and whining and a causing a scene. and all for a common cold.
just. a buzzing ball of energy !
eddie is sooooo fun to hc stuff for so super glad for this ask !! he’s a devious little curtain climber, and i love him for it :3
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intimately entwined
rating: e (but not how you think) ♥️ cw: the deepest intimacies in the most unexpected places knocking someone on their ass ♥️ tags: established relationship, care-taking, casual intimacy, fluff, relationship development, slice of life, idiots in love
for @steddielovemonth day three: Love is wanting to do everything with someone, even if its nothing special
and yes, again: these boys probably grow up to star in the rockstar-husbands-with-the-sex-toys fic je ne regrette rien which will have a sequel flavoured revival via @subeddieweek in April whaaaaaatttt
“Another.”
And the way it’s said: it’s almost fucking expectant too, Jesus Christ, this man.
“You’re sure this is okay?”
Because, like, Eddie needs to know it is. He needs to check, then double check, then triple check because…because this feels like a wholly different step, y’know? This feels like crossing a kind of line they haven’t even dared to tiptoe near just yet, wholly different from all the other lines they’ve navigated, both reckless and careless but together, always, and that helps, in theory. It helps to know that no matter how they’ve fumbled or triumphed in this, between them: it’s been hand in hand. Before, and during, and after.
Still, though. This is…this just feels very fucking different. The kind of boundary with implications that feel heavy and expansive under Eddie’s ribs. Maybe it should seem less monumental compared to other shit they’ve done, and most of that with far less deliberation and hesitation for them, at that. But this does, it…Eddie genuinely believes this pumps weird and novel through his veins, because it is different; and incredible for it, no question. Terrifying. Wholly beggars belief, honestly, and Eddie never really understood that phrase meant but.
He thinks this thing fits it, to a T.
“I said it was, didn’t I?”
Eddie blinks, recenters: was it okay?
And this, this…brilliant perfect little shit: Eddie can hear the smirk in his voice without even looking. He can hear the amusement as much as the loose-ends of frustration. Like Eddie is being absurd here.
Which: what the actual fuck; seriously.
Like, like: goddamn seriously.
“Yeah,” Eddie answers, a little hesitant, a lot fucking dazed; “yeah you did,” because…he did. From the beginning, from even before they settled int to start this: Steve had been…vocally enthusiastic. Not that Eddie hadn’t been! He’d mostly just, he’d just been—
“You think I’m fucking with you?”
Again: without having to see Eddie clocks the eye roll, the not-even-subtle challenge in it.
Alongside the nugget of genuine hurt held for if it turns out true and that: no.
No, Eddie will not fucking have that, so.
Okay, he won’t have that, but also first:
“I mean, yeah—“ because umm…their sex life is a little undeniable.
Steve snorts; how. How
“Here and now, jackass,” he snipes back and Eddie…Eddie really and truly doesn’t fucking know what to do with this. How cal, Steve is. How focused and dedicated to the task. How monumentally and profoundly, just…
How this is sitting in his chest as so much more than the rest of it somehow in a way Eddie cannot wrap his mind around to understand and it’s frightening. Not understanding something so clearly and intimately important; so clearly fucking intimate.
“Not exactly,” Eddie ultimately settles on speaking rather than continuing to gape, continuing to stew in his terror as his heartbeat picks up but speed, it comes out more choked than he’d been hoping; less convincing by a mile as a result. “I don’t think you’re fucking with me like, like it’s something intentional,” and Eddie seeks out Steve’s gaze directly then because that’s it, that’s the hurt part he needs to root out and not crush to bits because he doesn’t crush any part of the man he loves, ever; no.
No, Eddie needs to root that out so he can draw it into the pounding in his chest warm and safe to be cradled and adored until it snuffs itself out in contented fucking joy, for being loved right. Like it deserves.
Which might be part of the problem in the present case just: this time it’s a problem for Eddie.
“Like not mean or anything,” he reiterates, to make absolute sure of this part too; “I just…”
Steve watches him as he struggles to put any part of it into words, can’t even move, or fidget like this: caught, and kinda giddily so underneath everything else, and maybe he needs to lean into that base sensation, see if he can chart his way out from the center versus stumbling around the sides:
“It can’t be, like, enjoyable,” is what he ultimately settles on saying as clear as he came because honestly, that sums up the bulk of it.
Plus he’s learned by now to trust Steve to reach around his rougher edges and find the heart of his meaning, or else, and probably more often: hold his hand as the send out a search party between them for the right words.
Because that’s still it, isn’t it: together.
And of everything else, Eddie doesn’t have to even pysch himself up to trust in that; it just it. It comes natural like breathing.
“Umm,” Steve draws out, a little incredulous; “why not?”
Why not? Why isn’t this exchange clearly one-sided?
“Because,” Eddie tries to find his words, or at least some of them: “I guess, what do you get out of it?”
Steve’s the one glancing to lock their gazes and Eddie…Eddie doesn’t feel ashamed where he might have early on. But he recognises the similar dive where it still lives in his stomach for the gentle warmth that Steve stares into him. Like he sees Eddie’s question, and loves Eddie enough that he won’t dismiss it.
“One more,” Steve instructs confidently, just-shy-of-demands.
“Steve—“
“If you hate it we never have to do it again,” Steve counters; a compromise; “promise.”
“That’s not—“ because fucking hell, as if Eddie could ever hate it.
“One more,” Steve reminds him with the patience of a saint and…Eddie’s moving almost without any thought for it at all, like his body runs the way of his heart and moves for Steve be rote, which.
Kinda, yeah.
“Blow,” Steve’s instructing and Eddie’s doing the moving-by-instinct-because-Steve-says thing again; knows he’s blinking owlishly as he purses his lips and does as he’s asked.
Blows. Ever-so-gentle.
“Okay,” Steve assesses and then grins: “okay, that’s it. Perfect.”
Eddie won’t fucking argue. Not least because it’s true.
Though he’s more invested in the perfection looking up at him like this.
“Verdict?”
And okay, Eddie thinks maybe he has words now, at least inside his head: intimacy wasn’t something he’d ever had before Steve, and frankly was never something he was hanging hopes on ever getting, again—before Steve.
But it wasn’t just because he didn’t have other options that Eddie banked on intimacy equalling sex, either. Because once he did have Steve, it just shifted to the idea of sex as a way of showing love. The more of himself he could give to Steve, the more intimate they’d become: the more of him that was Steve’s for the taking, the more of Steve he look reverent into himself, body to body: that was intimate. That was a relationship, how it looked as it grew. First time Steve came inside him. First time Eddie licked him open. First time he fucked Steve’s gorgeous goddamn thighs.
That kind of thing.
But Eddie’s not sure even the heaviest, headiest sex has ever left his heart as much of a thumping, fluttery mess as just this, which doesn’t feel like just anything: Steve. Sitting in front of him. With a bottle he drove out to Indy to get just for Eddie. Because Eddie wanted it. Because Eddie would like it. Because it might make Eddie happy and it did, it really really did, and—
Steve’s just painted his fucking nails the most gorgeous shiny black, only the slightest bit straying off on the skin, too, and it’s somehow hitting Eddie deeper than the first time they fucked, the first time they stretched each other open, the first time they 69’d in the sheets.
This is apparently what knocks Eddie on his ass for just how deep the love goddamn goes.
“That.”
“Hmm,” Eddie hums, blinking back to the moment where he was busy getting caught up in the new revelation of what intimacy looked like, not to mention caught up in admiring his nails: “what’s ‘that’?”
And Steve’s smiling beatific, incandescent, as he pokes Eddie’s cheek, no, more specifically: as he pokes Eddie’s dimple.
“What I get out of it.”
And Eddie flushes hot under Steve’s touch, then, as it all adds up and seeps in strong enough to shake his core before reshaping him from the inside out as Steve taps the little divot in his skin playfully:
“That.”
Which is how Eddie realizes full on and forever, probably something he already knew, just somewhere under the surface: the intimacy was the sharing of the joy. And in love, especially a love like this one: joy itself is the payoff.
Joy, like everything, is shared by default.
Eddie lifts his eyes, meets Steve’s smile so wide, and relishes the color on his nails as a sign of it for seeing; relishes the dizzy cadence pumping in his chest as proof for the rest of him, to feed and nurture this depth of loving for all the simple things, undimmed and forever until his heart stops doing anything at all. Because there is no pay off, even if there is always something to get out of it. Out of all of it.
Because love is them; together.
Intimately entwined to the goddamn cells.
tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland
♥️
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