"That Could Be Us," Joseph Sighed And Stared Longingly At Another Couple, As They Rested Their Heads

Eddie imagine:

Imagine Eddie writing into every D&D campaign, a character that falls in love with your character. Or npc couples that are exactly like the two of you. You ask him one day why he does this. He just answered so casually like it was common knowledge, “because I’ll love you in every universe, time, and everything in between.”

When you started dating Tobio, you quickly took notice on his meticulousness and diligence when it came to his sport. This included taking a jog every morning without fail, filing his nails, writing in his volleyball journal, and eating the right meal. But this… this takes the cake.

“Tobio… what do you need all these shoes for?” you ask dumbfounded while standing in front of his wall filled with shelves of identical volleyball shoes.

He blinks at you before he grabs a pair and fiddles with it, “I couldn’t throw them away.”

“Yes? But why do you need this many? And identical ones at that? Did you not think to purchase a different design?”

“The mid-sole gets worn out quickly if you play every day,” he explains, “and a different design might feel different…”

You nod and take one, noticing a tag inside that has numbers on it, “but why keep them?”

“It has some sentimental value,” he says blushing, “actually this one,” he takes the shoe from you, “I was using during the time I met you.”

You beam at this, “That’s cute, Tobio! I didn’t know you were the sentimental type.”

…..

A month later during one of your dates you gifted him a new pair of shoes.

“Don’t worry about the design! It’s the same model and brand, just a different colorway.”

He nods, his eyes sparkling as he inspects it.

“Do you like it?”

He looks at you and smiles, “I love it.”

He didn’t use the shoes during the regular season and the VNL games, claiming it was too precious to wear. So imagine your surprise to see your boyfriend on television during the Olympics wearing the shoes you bought him months ago.

You hold mr crawling’s face in your hands, caressing his cheeks as you watched him chirp and purr as he melted into your touch as he puts his hand atop of yours, keeping you where he needed you most.

‘I will kill for you I hope you know that.’ You said all of a sudden and mr crawling stopped to look at you with an adorable frown on his lips.

‘Kill for me?’ Crawling asked in his unique way.

‘Yes. You keep safe.’ You replied in an attempt to communicate in the only way he could understand. ‘Must have you safe.’ You add and mr crawling smiled widely as he patted your hands in excitement while letting out a laugh.

‘You keep safe.’ Mr crawling then said as he moved to cuddle himself up to your chest, listening to your heartbeat. ‘Keep this safe.’ He adds as he nuzzles his head against your chest and you couldn’t help but bundle him in your arms and kiss his head multiple times, breathing in your own shampoo and conditioner lingering in his hair.

‘We keep safe.’ You muttered to him as you run your hand up and down his back, feeling him tighten his grip on your waist as he made himself comfortable atop of you for a man of his tall stature. ‘Keep safe.’ Mr crawling murmurs softly against you as a calm befell you both as you enjoyed each others company, safe under some layers of soft blankets and soft kisses planted on the others skin in praise and appreciation for one another; Such simple pleasures are the ones you treasure the most.

Do you think he’s extra childish with Megumi to make him feel as safe to be a child as Geto did for him.

Precious angry squirrel 🐿️

✦ steddie munching gifsets ✦

thinking about kissing kakyoins scars. he's worried you didn't like his face before but now with those long scars across his eyes, covering up the focal point of his face, he's worried you'll never find him attractive. cup his slender face in your hands, kissing the start of kaks scar right to the end. tell him they add character and show how strong and capable he really is. instead of being a reason to hate himself because he was weak or foolish or anything else he thinks he was, it's a reminder he's survived, adapted, and overcame it all. he's your warrior and as you plant a gentle kiss to his eyelid you hope he can believe that

Ow

“Hey,” Eddie giggles as he watches you nuzzle the softness of his belly near his hip, rubbing your nose back and forth along the warm skin exposed from the band tee turned sleep shirt riding up his torso, faded scars on display.

You hum, peppering kisses to every inch of skin you can reach, breathing the comforting scent of Eddie in as you melt further into him.

Warm, woodsy, vanilla. Him.

Another nip to his hip sends him squirming with a breathy chuckle, every touch tickling him more.

Sweetheart

“Could eat you right up, baby,” you sigh, pressing one last kiss to his belly and wrapping your arms around him.

Your eyes close as you run your fingers along his side, listening to his gentle breaths as they begin to even out, signaling he’s already drifting off to sleep with such ease.

Wrapped in the arms of a lover

widowed nanami who quits management job and opens a bakery after your name when you die. usually people try to forget their pain, and it is a human emotion to avoid things that bring them discomfort. but nanami kento defies that psychology.

people come every now and then pondering at the art on the walls. you always loved lilies so he drew them himself. he is not very artistic and the lines are a bit crooked, but it is still alluring.

he loves you to the point he dedicated a day in his bakery after you. cheesecake day. because it was the first thing he baked for you at the start of your relationship and you loved it so much. on this day, he prepares all kinds of cheesecake you adored. anything grabs attention of youngsters and social media quickly so they promote his shop and soon there is a big line outside waiting for the famous cheesecake. you'd be so happy if you were there.

he never wanted to forget you to be honest. what is the point in letting go of the one thing that keeps him alive? you are his every thought. every feeling. without you he is just a man with flesh and bones. no heart.

he has your engagement and vacation pictures mounted on the wall. when the customers ask how are you doing? he just smiles and goes "she's resting. i'll be next to her soon. i'll be home."

Eddie being clingy

“Jus’ let me love on you!” your boyfriend whines, voice muffled from his face buried in your chest.

You let out a small laugh, hand tangled in his hair as you gently scratch his scalp back and forth - not exactly trying your hardest to coax him off of you.

“I’ve gotta get up, Eds. Gotta get ready.”

“Just staaay. No point in going out in the rain when you could be snuggled up with your man - I’ll keep ya warm n’ safe, babe,” he briefly lifts his head to flash you a grin, hoping to convince you to remain in bed with him.

“I don’t know baby, I’d love to, but I have a lot to get done today.”

He only presses face into your chest harder.

You slightly lift your back and arms in an attempt to stretch out, which he takes as your way of moving him off of you - he immediately moves to cage his arms around you, holding you into place.

“What, I can’t stretch now?” You laugh.

He doesn’t respond, but slightly crawls himself up and rests his full weight on your body, causing an oomph to escape you.

He makes himself at home by nuzzling into your neck, arms latch around your shoulders as his soft hair presses against you.

You smell the spicy musk of his faded cologne, and let out a soft hum, content, as you return your hand to rub his scalp.

Good luck getting him off of you now.

He groans, and you feel the soft, bulbous tip of his nose drag and press into your neck on and off, his stubble gently scratching against you. Whatever he was doing had him a very happy man.

“Whatcha doin, handsome?” You giggle.

“‘M just, appreciating my girl. Smell so good baby, ‘n your skin’s so soft. What do you expect me to do?”

“You’re kinda precious, you know that?” You giggle.

A few minutes of gentle silence pass, when you feel his hand snake up your shirt and grab at your tummy. He taps his fingertips in random patterns and rubs the skin up and down, tracing your bellybutton, until he lays his warm palm flat against you. He surprises you when you suddenly feel his teeth on your shoulder, giving you a brief but firm chomp.

“Eddie!” You squeal.

“Sorry, you’re just so pretty,” he whispers, palm finding the side of your face and cradling it. He lifts up his head to kiss up your jaw, meeting your lips in a soft kiss, pleading for you stay in with him today.

“Will you stay home? I’ll cook for you and dote on ya, real nice. Make sure you know how perfect you are f’ me.”

You let out a soft sigh, “well, you’ve twisted my arm. Can’t say no to you, Eds.” You smile.

“That’s right,” he grins, knowing he’d get what he wanted, “love my pretty pretty girl.”

Blueberry Muffin (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Eddie notices you're good at sharing your food. A little too good.

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Established relationship, Food/Eating, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Brief mention of financial concerns, Discussion of trauma from previous relationships

Note: This is something entirely personal to me, it was something my ex did one-upon-a-time ago. But, like with everything else, Eddie Munson is a powerful tool to help you get over some of your issues. This fic might not be the best, but it helped me work through some old issues. And I'm pretty proud of that.

Shoutout to @undead-supernova who inspired me to write this while we were chatting about her excellent fic We Are Going To Be Friends, and @dr-aculaaa who is one of my lifetime mutual trauma ride-or-dies and told me my ex was actually trash (and they were trash).

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

If there was one thing that was the key to yours and Eddie's relationship, it was food.

Before there even had been a relationship, food had been one of the keystones of your friendship. You met at a friend's thanksgiving potluck, you always planned your outings around where you'd eat and the snacks you’d get, and during the group road trip up to Milwaukee for Mac and Cheese Fest, he'd finally gotten the courage to ask you out.

Food was life. You both agreed.

You were always good about sharing your food.

You, as in the two of you, sure. But specifically you.

It wasn't until the two of you were together and spent more time alone with each other that Eddie realized just how good you were at sharing.

Actually, good wasn't the right word.

Meticulous was more accurate.

If you took a bite of his burger when you went out for dinner, he had to have a bite of your pasta.

If you bought a pint of ice cream to share during movie night, you matched each bite spoon for spoon. However, if after a certain point of sharing he insisted that you could have the rest of the pint because it was your favorite flavor, the pint would inevitably make it back into the freezer without another spoonful taken.

On and on it went.

He tried to ignore it, but once he noticed it, it was hard not to.

At first, he thought that it was some relic of a less-than well-off childhood. Like Eddie, you'd grown up with a single parent and were occasionally foisted off on well-intentioned relatives to watch you while your mom worked. Thankfully, food was never scarce for either of you, but the fact that you'd been forced to grow up quicker than the others made you aware of generic-branded groceries and your mothers stretching their dollars and the pursing of lips when the bills came for special occasion meals out.

After a while, though, that reasoning disappeared. Yes, there were still habits that you formed from your mother's frugality but never to the point of anxiety.

This was something else.

And it all came to a head the day you brought home a bag of leftovers from work.

"Tom always orders too much when the execs visit the warehouse," you explained excitedly as you proudly showed off a plastic container of some gourmet salad and a few wax paper-wrapped sandwiches.

Then came the pastries.

A cherry danish you grabbed for Eddie specifically, and a pistachio-cream filled croissant that Eddie had heard you gush about a million times over. A few tiny cream puffs that both of you eagerly popped into your mouths.

And one blueberry muffin.

"Oh!" You faltered at the sight of it and then looked back into the obviously empty paper bag. "I thought there had been two."

"That's ok," Eddie shrugged. "We can just split it."

"No!" you snapped at him, your eyes wide. "You can have it."

"Sweetheart, I know you love muffins as much as I do," Eddie scoffed. "We'll just split it. No big deal. It's a pretty big muffin."

He watched as you worried at your lower lip for a long, drawn out moment before you nodded.

He kissed the side of your head and turned to grab plates and drinks. He carried as much as he could out to the living room so you could eat dinner in front of the TV. When he returned to your side to grab the food and start plating up your plunder, he stopped in his tracks at what he found.

Splitting a muffin was a no-brainer, typically. Or so Eddie thought. Just peel the paper lining and split that sucker in half. But there you stood, knife held in a shaky hand, shifting back and forth a few millimeters every so often, trying to find the exact equator of the confection before you so it could be cut in equal halves.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asked as gently as he could, but you still flinched, and when you looked up at him, your eyes looked glassy.

"Just cutting the muffin in half," you tried to laugh and play it off, but Eddie could see through the facade.

"It's just a muffin," he tried to offer, as though reminding you that it was, indeed, just a muffin would break you from this fit.

"It is," you looked down again, almost in shame. "Isn't it?"

He let you have a second, let you put the knife down and take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. When you nodded and held yourself a little more confidently, Eddie closed the distance and split the muffin in half by hand, right down the middle along the score line you had started.

And he pretended that he didn't notice the way you'd held your breath while he did it.

"Let's have dinner then," he suggested.

---

"You gonna tell me what all that was about?" Eddie asked once dinner was almost over, his mouth full of cherry danish, crumbs spewing from his lips as he spoke.

You ignored him for a second, picked at your own laminated pastry, until he continued.

"You know I always thought your mom really hammered the sharing is caring thing with you. But you went full King Solomon on that muffin and...I know that look in your eyes because I've seen it in the mirror a ton of times. That was fear. That was pain. So, are we gonna talk about it?"

You sighed and considered telling him no, you wouldn't be telling him jack shit, but...how many times had you pried into things that you really had no place asking about and he still told you anyway. That's how communication worked; that's how a relationship worked.

And that was how you got into this mess wasn't it?

"You remember my shitty ex?" you began tentatively, with a question.

"Shitty ex Number 1," Eddie scoffed. "Or shitty ex Number 2?"

"Number two."

"Should've known," he said under his breath but nodded for you to continue. "Alright, so what else did they do?"

Because the list had been...extensive already, you were loath to admit.

But you were with Eddie now, and things were infinitely better. You could work through these hurdles with him.

"It all started when we still worked at the mall together," you began. "Before we even started dating, actually. We'd meet on breaks and shoot the shit and one day, the little bakery only had one blueberry muffin."

You glared at the split muffin sitting on a plate on the coffee table, as though it was at fault, and not your ex.

"We decided to split it. Nothing wrong with that. We only had a fifteen, it was just a snack. But when they went to split the muffin...they took the muffin top, and left me with the stump."

"The...stump?" Eddie asked slowly, unable to comprehend.

"Yeah," you leaned forward and tapped on the base of the muffin that had previously been encased in paper. "The stump."

"That's...only assholes split a muffin that way." He paused and considered it. "But it's Shitty Ex Number Two. So I shouldn't expect anything less."

"I didn't think anything of it then," you continued. "Or the next hundred times we split a blueberry muffin on breaks, even when we started dating. They would always get the delicious, crispy, sugary muffin top, and I would always get the stump. Half-clinging to the wrapper, maybe a blueberry burned on the bottom. Never an equal half, always less-than!

"Until one day, there was this especially delicious looking muffin. It wasn't even at the mall, we were on a real date! At a real, nice bakery. With blueberry muffins, because that was our thing, and I made the mistake of asking if I could have the muffin top. Just once. And they looked at me like...like I just asked them to sacrifice their mother or something."

You felt your lip tremble, and the familiar sting of tears in your eyes.

That sense of loathing that you always felt when you thought of that moment, or really any time you got a blueberry muffin.

You took a breath and said, "they just told me that if I really loved them, I would let them have the damn muffin top. Because it was their favorite."

"That's bullshit!" Eddie got to his feet, arms thrown up in the air. "Sorry sweetheart, that's bullshit and, I'm sorry but, you deserved so much better. You deserve to have half a muffin. Half of the whole muffin, not just the stump. Fuck, you deserve the whole damn muffin yourself! It’s just a muffin!"

"I know!" You shouted back at him, causing him to stop his ranting and raving. "Don't you think I know that? It’s just a muffin and I shouldn’t have had to make myself accept less than what I deserved but it was the first in a long line of things where they made me feel like I wasn’t worth half. I wasn’t worth anything. And if I tried to prove that I was, to them and to myself, I would look crazy. Because it’s just a muffin.

“That's why I started...that's why I started taking what I deserved. I started taking half, instead of giving everything Eddie. If you get a bite, I get a bite. With everything. Because I deserve it!"

You thought of the way you had to meticulously tried to split the blueberry muffin earlier.

"Maybe...maybe I take it a little too far sometimes," you muttered, letting the tears finally fall. "Because I don't want to be selfish like they were, and take more from you than you deserve."

"Baby," Eddie dropped back onto the couch and corralled you into his embrace, pecking kisses to the side of your head. "Who fucking cares? Don't worry about me. Shit, I'll give you anything you want. I'll take anything you leave behind. I'll give you my whole cheeseburger at Benny's, if only you asked for it. And if you left me one singular pickle chip, I'd take it without complaint."

"I would never ask you," you laughed wetly.

“No, but you could ask, that’s the point. And I would give it to you.”

"I know I could. And I know you would...I just...I can't break myself from the habit. Not yet, at least."

"I get it," Eddie said into your hair as he continued dropping kisses. "The shitty exes leave their scars and you do your best to keep from opening the wounds up again. I get it."

You knew. You both had your fair share of scars.

---

It took a few minutes, as you basked in one another's comforting presence, before you inevitably shared the damn muffin you brought home. Eddie insisted on letting you take an extra bit off his muffin top, even when you rolled your eyes and told him to stop.

Neither of you brought it up again for a few days, but you both were a little more conscientious when you shared food.

You made nachos for his Friday night DnD session with the guys and he left you the core nacho that held everything together; it was extra gooey with cheese, and loaded with jalapeños. You made sure to take an extra big bite of his pint of rocky road when he offered, even if he didn't want a single bite of your rum raisin. And when it was his turn to take bites of your food, you didn't pay attention to how much or how little he took.

It still felt a little wrong, but it was insanely healing. You didn't need to worry about keeping things fair and equal with Eddie; your relationship was already fair and you were equals.

And of course, Eddie kept your revelation at the forefront of his mind to hold you accountable to your own bullshit. He noticed when you fell into old habits before you could and even came up with a form of punishment if you subconsciously made sure to take the same number of bites off a shared plate as he did:

He would give you a vegetable off his plate.

"I'm not a fan of broccoli anyway," he grinned cheekily, waving his fork with the aforementioned green in front of your face one night at dinner.

"You're an idiot," you shook your head, but took the bite regardless.

It was slow and steady, but you were getting over the hurdle together.

Then one day, the unexpected happened.

You were at work, doing your little mindless computer work as you did, when your coworker called your name from the front of the office.

"Is it your birthday or something?" Jill laughed as she hauled something through the sea of cubicles.

"No, did someone get me flowers or something?" you asked and stood from your desk to meet her halfway.

"You can't eat flowers," she said as she turned the corner, holding a massive basket.

Full of blueberry muffins.

You didn't need to read the card tied to the cellophane-wrapped basket full of baked goods to know who it was from, but you did anyway to satisfy your coworkers' curiosity.

And they didn't quite understand it, but it made your heart melt.

I didn't ask if they sold a basket of only the tops, because I didn't want them to think either of us were sociopaths. It’s just a blueberry muffin. But you're worth every muffin in this damn basket, sweetheart. Never forget that. Love, Eddie