safe under you
rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar husbands, writing vows, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness
for @steddielovemonth day nineteen: Love is the comfort of quiet moments (@tboygareth)
the rockstar husbands are back on their soft-sleepy-romantic bullshit idk ♥️ maybe I'll get around to writing the ACTUAL VOWS next time
“You’re so quiet.”
Which meant Eddie should have heard his husband approaching but: as it stands he really, really didn’t, and he jumps hard when Steve whispers from behind his shoulder over the back of the couch.
Steve laughs at the glare Eddie shoots him—a half-hearted one at best but there—as he reaches to start rubbing at the crook of his neck, up and down on either side and the glaring goes away instantly because: Steve Harrington?
Has magical hands.
“Whatcha doing?” he murmurs close to Eddie’s ear and Eddie hums a little as he gathers himself from going immediately-boneless under Steve’s touch, the kneading of his palm against Eddie’s strained muscles because he’s been down here…not too long, he doesn’t think. They’d gone to bed together at normal time, and he’d fallen asleep, too; he’d just been restless when he woke up, and knew it was the kind of thing he wouldn’t get more rest out of unless he did something about it, so he’d kissed Steve’s head and rolled out of bed, regretful for it but hopeful, too, that if he gave in to the nagging at the back of his head, he’d quiet it enough to be able to slip back in next to his beloved, and lean against the mattress just so, so that Steve’s arms could curl around him as they always did: soft and sweet and waiting to hold him.
Eddie just hasn’t…managed to get there, yet.
“Writing,” Eddie sighs, and then whines a little as Steve’s hands leave their place on his shoulders, and he turns to look because where’s Steve going, Steve shouldn’t go anywhere, Steve should stay right—
Here.
And look at that: Steve’s plopping himself down on the sofa next to Eddie, a little too far but then he’s scooting further, and Eddie opens his mouth to protest but then Steve’s dropping down, draping his body over Eddie’s lap and laying against him, looking up at him with still-half-sleepy eyes and just…
He’s just so fucking beautiful, y’know?
“You’re never quiet when you’re writing,” Steve says, head tilted up, eyes closed as he leans back against the armrest where Eddie’s got his notebook, his face so soft. His mouth so soft—
“Campaign, you mumble to yourself,” Steve continues on, his voice syrupy, still only half-committed to waking; “lyrics, you hum if you don’t have a guitar,” and then he reaches down toward Eddie’s knee and taps rhythmic there:
“And you drum your fingers,” and Steve smiles as his fingers dance for a few languid moments before he eases his lashes open and meets Eddie’s gaze, because Eddie’s gaze has been on his since he settled in his lap.
Because: duh.
“Looks like it’s hard, too,” Steve sucks his lower lip between his teeth, face still soft but mouth quirked just a little downward, still a little dream-soaked and Eddie love that part, but: never the downturn of that mouth.
“Hmm?” Eddie rumbles low so Steve’ll maybe feel it a little where he’s pressed; the little hazy giggle Steve lets out as he nuzzles into Eddie’s middle just that tiny bit: he felt.
Eddie likes to think he’s never been so in love, but he doesn’t…he doesn’t believe he’s ever not loved Steve with all of his everything.
He’s just wholly convinced that his everything grows with ever moment beside this man, every heartbeat lived together: it stretches him wider, broader every day for the singular purpose of holding the all of his love ever-bigger.
“Whatever you’re working on,” Steve murmurs, just short of sleep-slurred; “you’ve got this,” and he reaches, bats a little around Eddie’s face before he lands between his eyebrows and smooths the skin there which, okay, fine, had been all wrinkled-up.
“Means you’re concentrating too hard,” Steve comments sagely, patting Eddie’s cheek a little blind as he settles wholly back in Eddie’s lap.
“This happens to be very important,” Eddie counters with a tiny flick to Steve’s ear, which is met with a little squeak that warms his insides so delicate, so thorough and full.
“Doubtful,” Steve manages to scoff, like he’s tipping closer to wakefulness but not there yet; “not important enough to make you,” and Steve’s the one flicking now, light at Eddie’s forearm in emphasis:
“Quiet and frowny.”
He’s so…he’s fucking edible he’s so adorable, that’s what he is—Jesus.
“Not frowny,” Eddie lets a little at Steve’s hair, all tousled from the bed; “invested.”
Steve purses his lips and tries—fails, but tries—to peek at the notebook on level with his temple.
“What’s got you so invested, then?” he finally gives up trying to turn and read where Eddie’s hasn’t even bothered trying to hide, not least because there is nothing there, and just asks. And Eddie could dodge it. Steve would respect it if he did.
But he…he doesn’t. Generally speaking he doesn’t hide anything from Steve. Big or small. Their life is a shared thing from top to bottom and Eddie loves that about them so fucking fierce, so. He just sighs and admit it.
“My vows.”
Because that’s what’s been keeping him up, that’s what drove him out of the soft joy of their bed, that’s what amounted to scribbles and cross-outs alone on the page in front of him and it should be this hard, Eddie’s a decent enough lyricist, not to mention most of his songs all this time are for, or inspired by, or just about, generally, all-encompassingly: Steve. It’s always Steve.
Which makes it that much more unbearable that he can’t seem to fucking write his goddamn vows.
Then, though, just then; the most unexpected thing happens. Or starts.
Steve starts shaking against him and there a half-second he’s worried—does it hurt his sweetheart, that he can’t get the words down, does it make him sad, is he cryi—
No.
No: it only takes half-a-second for the anxiety to fade and the sound to register alongside the trembling: Beautiful. Radiant. Still wholly unexpected.
Steve’s laughing.
“That’s silly,” Steve finally tells him, looking up at him with genuine north in his eyes and yes, he’s still a little sleepy-drunk, but the feeling is wholly present and…
Eddie isn’t sure what to do with it—wants to just wrap himself inside it and savor but: his vows…laughable?
Silly?
“What?”
“You’ve already made your vows,” Steve grins up at him, all brightness; “like, three times,” and, okay.
Okay, that’s not exactly wrong, though he could probably try to argue that it was more three proposals’ worth of vows, and are those actually vows, if it’s just a proposal—
“Proposals fucking count,” Steve waves his wrist definitively and…Eddie isn’t sure if he said any of that out loud?
Then: probably wouldn’t make a difference either way. They know each other.
“The first one was legitimately with the twisty-tie from a loaf of Home Pride,” Eddie points out because: because that…that’s probably not as important—
“Mmhmm,” Steve hums, and lifts his left hand: there’s a simple ring on his left hand, pricey for their budget when they’d gathered their family and committed to always in front of them under a temperate Indiana summer’s sky, bonfire and barbecue lively in the background: but that ring wasn’t smooth; it had a long-worn-bare stick of metal wrapped around it and soldered, one that used to be covered in bright paper to stick out against a plastic bread bag:
“I remember well,” and Steve sounds so soft, so blissfully taken in by the memory of that first time Eddie had proposed and, fuck.
Fuck, the butterflies never go away, do they? That effervescent joy stays fresh and vivacious forever.
Thank fuck; he wants no less of this; for them. The love they have deserves no less.
“Still want to melt down the Ring Pop,” Steve says as he plays with his ring; “make it match,” and that’d been the second time: Steve had bought Eddie a ring at a ren faire, and Eddie’d been beside himself to reciprocate, immediately, because Steve deserved no less, and that was how the bum-end of a long-licked Ring Pop came to live eternally on Steve’s keys.
To be eyed for melting into a full-hoop shape for years, now, but Eddie kinda thinks it’s loved and treasured plenty, just as it already is.
“I love you so fucking much,” Steve tells him, apropos of nothing, and that’s…that’s kind of exactly how they work, yeah. They just love.
So fucking much.
Eddie’s pulse kinda skips with it, bounces like pigtails hopscotching along, all unbridled glee. He draws Steve hand to his lips, kisses his knuckles.
“Aren’t you,” Eddie swallows as he lifts his blank notebook and shakes it around a little: “aren’t you stressing over them?”
Because it doesn’t sound like he is, and that’s…sure, they’ve done this before, if not with a license in hand like they will this time. But Steve’s always been more prone to worry over stuff like this. So while Eddie doesn’t want the man he loves to be anxious, he is…kinda wondering, is all.
“Not writing any,” Steve shrugs and lets the motion turn him a little against Eddie’s lap, to look up more straight-on.
“You know I’m not great with words,” Steve tells him simply; “like, planning them out, I’ll fuck it up in the moment and then I’ll just be more flustered.”
And, yeah: okay. That’s a fair point.
Then there’s a hand slipping up his jaw, and crawling his cheek, and turning him down to look at Steve closer:
“Figured I can just look at you, and I’ll,” Steve’s pupils get bigger as he exhales, as he takes in Eddie’s face and beams at him, strokes his cheekbone with his thumb.
“The most important things are always right there,” Steve breathes warm: “so I’ll just say what’s already waiting.”
And shit. The man says he’s bad at words.
“You’re the light of life, Steve Harrington,” Eddie whispers, contorting himself to lean and Steve sees, arches up to press their lips as Eddie mouths against him: “the song in my soul,” and fuck: he means it so many times over he could never count it, could never pin a number to it. It’s too vast.
“See, look at you,” Steve taps his cheek playfully, but so soaked up with love; “you’ve already got all your words, so,” and then he lets his hand slide off Eddie’ face, and he sits up just to grab at Eddie’s legs, swing them up onto the couch and settles himself between them, tugging Eddie from the calves further down until he’s propping himself up by his palms.
“C’mon,” Steve coaxes, and uses his back to ease Eddie down and: oh. Oh, he wants them laid out on the cushions.
And well: Eddie could, would, will only ever oblige, if the question is do you want to lay down with your husband thrice-almost-four-times-over?
Because again: duh. If they were really in the market for silly ideas.
Steve sighs so happily, so airy and bright even as Eddie reaches to flick the light off, and wraps his arms to rest around Steve, sure and close where he holds him to his chest, folds him in where he already nuzzles deeper and:
It’s how safe my heart feels under the weight of your head.
Well, fuck him.
Maybe he does know his vows already.
tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson
♥️
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Stsg anon back at it again with a new idea for you to eat!!! poly, teen!stsg where they both develop a crush on reader who’s quiet, who’s timid, who keeps to themselves. Not as strong as either of them and not as popular. They two are best friends and they certainly won’t fall apart over a crush, so they talk it out and decide they’re both perfectly fine with arranging some sort of polyamory (if you return their feelings, of course. That was something suguru pointed out btw 😭)
(…which they both convince themselves is totally just for the sake of maintaining their friendship, just for the sake of both of them getting to date you, totally not also because there’s some romantic tension between them that they aren’t ready to face yet.)
But they have such different ideas on how to go about courting you and they bicker (lightheartedly) about it all the time. Suguru who thinks that they should go about it gently, kindly, who thinks they should take it slow. Who’s so thoughtful, who recognises that being flirted with by two very attractive and popular guys could be overwhelming, especially for someone shy and introverted. Who’s charming because he’s gentle, because he brings you food when you mentioned you were in a rush and forgot to make your own, who’s just so kind and always seems to offer you a spot with him and satoru when he spots you alone in your classroom at lunch. Who gives the softest smiles and gently taps your shoulder to get your attention, who’s big hands gently brush against your own when he hands you a worksheet.
But Satoru is eager. Confident, exceedingly so. Who, when he wants something, he gets it. He’s the Satoru Gojo for the love of god, he knows he’s everybody’s dream man, so he sees no reason in waiting or being slow- who, not for the first time in his life, needs suguru to calm him down and force him to be rational and not freak you out. He’s the embodiment of a lovesick puppy. Who showers you in gifts even if you aren’t dating yet, because he just can’t resist ! Who brings you flowers he remembers you said you liked, who writes witty and flirty notes and chucks them at your head (gently) in class when the teacher isn’t looking, who’s always slinging an arm around your shoulder, flicking your forehead, ruffling your hair. Who grins and winks at you in such a satoru way, who excitedly grabs your hand and interlinks your fingers when he wants to bring you somewhere, who has to physically hold himself back from squealing and giggling like a schoolgirl when he catches you glancing or blushing at either of them.
Both of them who make sure nobody gives you shit, who are with you constantly, always making sure you’re okay and not upset about anything, who help you to become a little more self confident and extroverted (around them at least), and who don’t mind it when it’s one of those days where you’d prefer to just be your normal self, to read and be alone (alone from everyone but them of course, god forbid the clingy bfs go a second without you..)
Giggles so hard…. They’re such cutie pies <3333 this might be a little bit too long but I just needed to share this thought augh I’m such a sucker for them and how they respond and think about things differently yet are still each others ride or dies :3 !!
HELP MEEEEEEE THIS IS THE CUTEST THING EVER I COLLAPSED 😭😭😭 stsg anon u need to write a fic this concept makes me so weak
i know i already said it but u r just FEEDING me atp….. i lovelovelove reading these SO much pls never worry about them being too long!!! u could drop a whole essay into my askbox n i wouldnt mind at all <333 i adoreee poly stsg and ur thoughts on them !!
AND THIS CONCEPT …. hhhh :( so sweet. it gives me insane shoujo manga vibes anon !! just all heart fluttering n giddy. theyre cutiepies its true <33
and ofc i agree so much!!! sugu being the more gentle one, patient, considerate… (he’s soooo <33) while gojo is just so eager to see u smile and laugh and blush he LIVES off ur reactions……. him being his lil lovesick puppydog self and sugu trying to keep him in check LMAO thats so so cute!! squealing n giggling while sugu rolls his eyes (fondly) (lovingly) (in adoration) (i just feel like he’s so whipped for both of u… he thrives off ur joy </3)
(ALSOOOOO ANON….. the romantic tension between stsg…… i agree so so much. i think they just dont really have a word for what they feel for each other yet, but once they do… maybe there would be an adjustment period where they’re just figuring themselves/each other out but !! i think it’d be short. they just care for each other so much yknow??)
AND AND them being so protective <///3 u know the way to my heart. and understanding too!! we’ve talked abt this before anon but they really ARE such a great duo bc gojo is always there if u feel more extroverted and outgoing but on days when u just want to be silent and cozy sugu is waiting on the couch w blankets and tea <333 and them being so clingy LMAOO it’s so true…. on days when u want to be ALONE alone sugu has to literally pry gojo away from u w his bare hands 😭😭😭 n then he just waits outside the door like a dog. and sugu starts getting headaches bc he has this itch to tend to ur needs but he knows he shouldn’t disturb u PHDHDHS codependent losers <333
i loovveeee imagining them in more fluffy scenarios like this it makes me so happy wahhh… its what they deserve!!! i LIVE for ur thoughts anon tysm for the meal as always <333
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