#... the point is what eddie does with his pants button

[scoops-aboy86]

Everyone in the Party makes a cameo in this one, because it's the holidays and over the holidays you spend time with the found family that you defeated an unspeakable evil with. ❤️

🔞 Seven Christmases pt. 6

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The Byers-Hoppers (2569 words)

rated: T | cw: none | tags: chubby eddie, established relationship, weight gain, belly kink, stuffing, steve has a praise kink, fluff, they’re in love, robin/vickie, marijuana, chubby argyle, jargyle, argyle/jonathan/nancy, byler, button popping

When Eddie first came up with this Christmas plan, he’d thought it would feel good. All of his indulging ever since his near death and the recovery had suggested as much, and from the way Steve’s pupils had instantly blown wide at the initial suggestion… He’d been wrong, though. 

It feels fantastic. He’s so full, so fucking big that he’s aching with it, a dull throb that’s forged a direct connection between his tight, heavy belly and his dick. It’s an orgasm denied to him all fucking day, edging himself every time another meal comes to a close and he still has space for more. It’s a harness cinched tight around his middle and all down his legs, restraints that are leaving marks to trace over later in awe. Waiting for just the right thread or button to strain just enough that it finally gives, and it will fall away to reveal him in all his hedonistic glory, the luxury of excess spilling off his frame in every direction and stretch marks that he chose painted over the scars he didn’t. 

And he has to have more. He needs it. That’s his Christmas present to himself. 

Jonathan and Argyle are already loitering out front in the driveway when Steve pulls up, and Eddie rolls his window down with a chuckle. “You two wouldn’t happen to be lying in wait for us, would you?”

“Of course, bro,” Argyle says at the same time Jonathan shakes his head. “You dudes have the munchies express, what’s Christmas without that?”

Eddie fakes a swoon. “A man after my own heart. Look out, Stevie, you might have some competition for my affections here.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve throws the car in park and rests a hand on the keys in the ignition. “Roll up your window, snookums.”

Snookums, Eddie mouths exaggeratedly, but he fondly does as he’s told so Steve can cut the engine. When he opens his door, he doesn’t miss Jonathan’s glance and little nod at Steve—appreciation, or solidarity or whatever, as he stands in the driveway with an open bag of red and green tortilla chips angled Argyle’s way. 

Not that the Californian has Eddie beat in any category besides hair length, but he too has gotten heftier since settling in Hawkins. Which is nice, because… Eddie had, maybe, for about five seconds, gotten a little worried when he first heard through the Party grapevine that Jonathan came out as bi. It was one more thing the elder Byers boy and Steve had in common, and what if they bonded too much over that? But then Eddie met Argyle, clocked the way Jonathan always seemed to hover in his orbit, and just as quickly relaxed. He doesn’t pretend to understand whatever arrangement that still keeps Nancy in the equation too, but Jonathan and Steve really do have a lot in common. 

They smoke up quickly before heading inside, Eddie already munching on a handful of chips that Argyle graciously shared in return for the complimentary weed. He can feel Steve watching him—feels the way he crowds against him too on their way inside the house. 

It’s a good thing they’re at the back of the slight bottleneck at the front door, because Steve is practically grinding against his ass. God, if there’s one thing he never gets tired of in this life it’ll be the way he can drive his man wild just by following the whims of his appetite, indulging in the impulse for more. He’s not even hungry again yet, but the crunch is nice as he settles into his high. 

Because the turkey is still in the oven after a late start defrosting and the kids are practically vibrating, Eddie is able to relax into some light snacking while they do presents. The bowl of white chocolate-covered chex mix and M&Ms only needs to be refilled twice, and Steve sits close enough with an arm around him that he can provide some amount of subtle belly rubs, low at the curve of it where his hand is hidden from view by the arm of the couch. There’s a seemingly unending supply of hot apple cider that keeps turning up in his cup, refilled seemingly whenever he isn’t paying attention, which is amazing, but—

Eddie turns his head to rest his chin on Steve’s shoulder and murmurs “I gotta move” in Steve’s ear.

Steve glances at him. “Yeah?”

He nods and then gives a little pout. “Yeah. Bathroom… for real, this time. Just need a little help getting up.”

The molten flash in Steven’s hazel eyes and the answering grope at his side is compensation enough for the fact that getting up is the only help Eddie is going to get. He ends up on his feet after a few rocks back and forth and Steve helping support his weight for a second, and then he’s wading through the ocean of torn wrapping paper and discarded bows. 

Aside from Steve (whose heavy gaze seems to follow him out of the room), no one pays him much attention. The younger boys are crowded around the new d&d books they’ve received, deeply intent on devouring every scrap of information contained in the pages as soon as possible. El sits with a smiling Hopper in the center of a slowly rotating hurricane of colorful cardboard shapes, holding one as they both scan intently over the fitted-together edge pieces of a massive jigsaw puzzle. Max in her wheelchair is holding Erica’s new skateboard and giving rapidfire tips, tilting and twisting the board in demonstration while the younger Sinclair listens with complete and utter focus. Joyce, Murray, and Argyle are in the kitchen, Nancy curled up against Jonathan on the loveseat while she chats avidly with Robin and Vickie about college life. The entire scene is cozy and domestic… and Eddie has never had a big family, but that’s what it feels like. 

Maybe it’s the weed, but his Christmas spirit and goodwill towards his fellow humans is at an all-time high right now. 

As soon as the bathroom door closes behind him, he runs both hands experimentally down his front to feel the full extent of how swollen he currently is—very, and then some. His sweater is stretched as tight as it will go without pulling up. His fingers circle the dip of his belly button and slide lower, until they encounter a sliver of bare skin where his undershirt finally started coming untucked while he was struggling on from the couch. And his pants… Eddie bites his lip as he feels how the button is straining to hold on, gasps softly as he realizes that the zipper has already undone itself at some point when he wasn’t paying attention. His stomach sits heavy in his hands wherever he touches, not so much as a jiggle while it’s still so tightly constrained. 

For a moment, he lets himself fantasize about popping that button at the dinner table midway through his sixth meal of the day. 

Not gonna happen though, not after all the cider here and the nog at the Buckleys. He’s willing to risk ripping his pants with an audience, but he draws the line at wetting them in a room full of people. So, with a sigh of dreams deferred, he paws his waistband to pull it down over the swell of his underbelly and love handles, because the button is pulled way too tight too—

Ping!

“Oh god,” he moans under his breath, unprepared for the sudden release of his gut from its prison. His belly surges out, practically bouncing, the tender underside still caught in the V of the stretched out fly, air cool on the now exposed, reddened skin… Oh, Steve will be so sad he missed this. Eddie leans back against the bathroom door and loses himself in exploring for a moment, grabbing, jiggling, pressing his fingers in as deep as he can even with how stuffed he is, until his bladder reminds him why he’s here. 

When he’s finished relieving himself, it’s a whole new ordeal to get the pants back on over his well-padded ass. Even then, he realizes with rapidly reddening cheeks, he’s exposed. His belly drops over the front of the pants, disguising the fact that they’re hopelessly open, unable to contain the sheer size that he’s glutted himself to—an observation that makes him rub his thick thighs together where he’s taking a breather on the closed toilet seat, hands smoothing over his belly again, back arching slightly to give the illusion of more that he still wants, a desire he’s more unsure by the day if he’ll ever see the end of. Fuck, maybe he could get off like this and no one would ever know, his own body would cover up the evidence even standing, and without the added constriction he can eat so much more—

A knock on the door shakes him out of those vivid thoughts, though he’s still hopelessly turned on and unlikely to cool off any time soon without either getting off or being full enough to pop actual stitches. Both preferred, of course. 

“Hey, dude?” Argyle says through the door. “Dinner’s on, and Steve said you were in here so I brought you something that just might come in handy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie replies, and knows that he wasn’t quite successful in keeping the breathy strain out of his voice. It gets him a knowing chuckle through the door. 

“Yeah, it’s an apron, my dude. Don’t want to waste any tasty food dropping it on that nice sweater, right?”

Eddie’s head drops back in amazed relief. “Argyle, have I told you lately that you’re a literal angel?”

“Never a bad thing to say it again. I’ll hang it on the door handle out here, ‘kay? For when you’re ready.”

Steve had some idea of what he was in for. How could he not, at the end of a day like this? But it’s a damn good thing he’s already seated at the table by the time Eddie returns from the bathroom, because just the sight of him is enough to send all the blood in his body straight to his dick. 

For starters, Eddie is wearing an apron. A green one, decorated with slices of cake and pie and festive candies, all examples of things already eaten and being digested and slowly turning into more fat beneath it. It’s not even tied—maybe because the ties couldn’t reach far enough, Steve’s horny brain supplies as he blinks dazedly at the sight, mouth dropped open—and sways a little with every heavy step the man takes. It’s not in-your-face obvious that it’s to hide his bare belly where the sweater has crept up and the undershirt has completely given up the ghost, but Steve can tell that’s the case. 

Robin, seated on his left, takes one look at Eddie and one look at Steve’s face, and snorts. “Cool it, loverboy,” she mutters out of one side of her mouth, which at least gets Steve’s to snap shut. 

The chair to his right creaks as Eddie settles into it, huffing as he makes a vague effort to scoot it closer to the table. Which Steve leaps up to help with, of course, boner or not, because he is a good boyfriend and because the sight of Eddie’s stomach all bloated and spreading out as seen from above is a fucking sight to behold. 

“Thanks sweetheart,” Eddie says with a wink as Steve sits shakily back down, and he makes a subtle show of readjusting his belly in his lap. With all the activity, Steve can tell from the side, the hem of his sweater has ridden up almost to his belly button. 

“H-hi,” Steve replies dumbly, unable to stop staring. He distantly hears Robin snort at him again, but he’ll save his scathing comeback for the next time he catches her and Vickie making out in his and Eddie’s place during a movie night. 

Eddie leans a little closer, the chair giving another creak of protest as he shifts. He holds out a hand, gesturing for Steve to do the same, and then presses a circle of warm metal into his palm. At first Steve thinks it’s one of his rings, passing it off for safekeeping until it can be resized again, but when he checks surreptitiously under the table his breath catches in his throat. 

It’s the button from Eddie’s pants. 

His brain flatlines for a moment while the last of the food is brought in—a big enough spread for two Christmas dinners, almost. 

“I don’t know how this happens every time,” Joyce is saying as she sets the serving dish of mashed potatoes on the table with a sigh. “Every time! No matter what I do, they always end up runny somehow…”

“Mom, it’s fine,” Will insists. He sets a bowl of… something down next to it. 

Eddie leans forward curiously, trying to decipher the hot pocket-sized things that look like they’re wrapped in some sort of paper. “What’s that, burritos or something?”

“Tamales, my dude. Shredded chicken wrapped in cornmeal dough, wrapped in corn husks, and steamed to perfection,” Argyle explains from behind Will. “Beep beep little Byers, enchilada comin’ in hot!” He’s carrying a large flat dish with oven mitts. It’s probably a miracle that he doesn’t get his hair in it (or anything else) while setting it down. “Both made by yours truly, just like my abuela taught me.”

“Except it’s a casserole,” Jonathan says with a chuckle, setting bowls of green beans and guacamole on the table. 

“Nooo man, I had a brainwave while I was in the kitchen earlier today! It’s all the same flavors and cheesiness, but half the work… because instead of individually rolled tortillas, it’s flat.”

“Yeah… like a casserole.”

“Whatever you call it,” Eddie interrupts with a grin, “it smells great. Grandma food is always the best.” 

Steve’s brain clicks back on enough to offer a fond wave of appreciation for the little wooden box in his kitchen that’s crammed full of his nonna’s recipes, painstakingly translated from the original Italian with Robin’s help. Some of the early translations had produced truly inedible results, but the finished versions had made substantial contributions to Eddie’s waistline. 

There’s a beat of quiet while everyone else finishes settling into their seats and Steve soaks in the wonder of being surrounded by the smells of good food and people who care, and then—

“Mike,” Will says, making direct eye contact with his mom’s runny mashed potatoes, “I think we should worry for our future kids.”

The delivery is so deadpan, so perfectly timed, and so unexpected that the entire patchwork family gathered at the table cracks up, even Joyce. Just full on, tears-in-their-eyes, can’t-believe-we’re-all-still-alive-and-now-this laughter at something that shouldn’t be funny, yet somehow is. Eddie clutches at a stitch in his side and he can barely get a breath in from shaking so hard (Steve couldn’t look away from him if he tried, god he loves him so much), but it’s worth it because against all the odds little Will Byers is sixteen now and he just gave up on defending his mom’s questionable cooking abilities in the most ridiculous way possible. It’s another two minutes before anyone even realizes that’s how Will and Mike are coming out as together, and the cacophony only intensifies from there.

Part 7, part 8

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Sixteen

Eddie leans heavily on Steve as he walks. His whole body looks knobbly; he’s far too thin again, having clearly lost all of the weight he put on beforehand. His legs shake as he takes one tentative step after another, the blanket barely held together in Steve’s free hand, desperate to keep a little warmth for Eddie.

Steve is still favoring his injury a little when he walks, and that isn’t exactly helping things.

When they finally makes it to the stairs, Steve has to white knuckle the hand rail and take half of Eddie’s weight. Eddie struggles so much to pull himself up, one torturous step after another, and Steve’s foot really is a hindrance.

They really need to eat; especially Eddie, but he’s so crusted in filth he smells absolutely horrendous. His eyes look so sore too; Steve can’t ignore it, they have to get cleaned up. The last thing he needs is for Eddie to go through all of that only to die of a stupid fucking infection.

And thinking of that makes Steve remember that he’s just dipped his own injury in all that filth; he really needs to get cleaned up himself.

They finally make it, and Steve drops the blanket and helps Eddie over the edge of the tub and in, taking down the shower head so he can turn the water away while it warms up. Eddie just lies there, shivering with either cold or exertion or shock; or a mix of all three.

Steve uses his free hand to strip himself naked, his sweat pants are soaked to the knees in filth, the rest of him is pretty crusted from holding Eddie, he leaves all their dirty things in a heap, kicking it over into the corner of the bathroom with his uninjured foot.

Steve starts to rinse Eddie down, and he shifts under the feel of the warm water, eyes opening, “Stee.”

“Hey baby...lets get you cleaned up, okay?”

Eddie, with what looks like an extreme bit of effort, pulls himself up, making room. Steve gets in, kneeling between Eddie’s shaky calves.

Eddie doesn’t seem to have a single hair on his body anywhere; his head is completely bald, no eyebrows, nothing. It makes his ears look even more obviously pointed. His teeth haven’t changed either; just a tiny bit sharp. Steve grabs a flannel, resting the shower head for a second while he lathers it up.

Eddie’s head ridges are still there, but way less obvious than they were before. Steve finds them by touch, slightly raised lines on Eddie’s skull, but nothing else; like what would have once split has now healed over. Sealed.

Gone.

Steve works his way down, the water running down the drain a miserable black brown color that's leaving streaks on the bottom of the tub. Steve carefully cleans, but his eyes keep dipping; it’s kind of hard to miss the fact the Eddie doesn’t seem to have anything at all between his legs.

The filth comes off slowly, Steve using the flannel and shower head in tandem, scrubbing as gently as he can, “close your eyes baby,” Steve cleans around them carefully, wiping all the dried crud off the lids.

He cleans Eddie everywhere, the bumps of his ribs, between his toes, under his nails. Eddie still doesn’t have a belly button or nipples. His fingernails remain black almond shaped claws; his toenails though, look completely human, totally normal.

Steve finds he does have something between his legs, a narrow slit that was nearly invisible when Eddie was covered in crap. Steve cleans him there just as carefully, Eddie shifting his legs, lifting a thigh, to help, “Stee?”

“Nearly done baby,” Steve stands, putting the shower head back on the holder so he can quickly wash himself, taking a moment to carefully clean the area with the stitches, “you hungry? Food?”

“Food. Yes.”

Eddie leans forward, mouth open, letting the shower spray land on his tongue before closing and swallowing and doing it again, “thirsty?”

“Yes. Water.”

“Okay, we can do that next,” Steve finishes up, getting out of the tub carefully and toweling himself dry, before helping Eddie out on his incredibly shaky legs. Steve sits him on the lid of the toilet, ditching their toothbrushes into the sink so he can fill the cup with water.

Eddie, hand unsteady, drinks the whole thing in three long gulps. He does the same with the second. He sips the third more slowly while Steve dries himself off the rest of the way and leaves Eddie wrapped in a towel so he can find them some clothes. He also takes a minute to get out the first aid kit, propping his foot on the edge of the tub, he dabs disinfectant thoroughly over his stitches, “Stee ow?”

“No baby, it’s fine now. Promise.”

“Called promise?”

“Uhm...it means I tell many many many true? Like I promise it’s okay.”

Eddie cocks his head, and Steve’s heart feels tight in his chest with how much he missed him, how close they came to loosing him, “perfect true?”

Steve nods, “kinda’ yeah.” He packs the first aid kit away, “lets get you onto the bed, and I’ll go down and make-”

“No.”

“Eddie, you need to eat-”

Eddie grabs Steve’s hand, holding tight, “no.”

“Okay. Okay yeah, we go together.”

“To-gether.”

Eddie goes down the stairs on his ass, moving both feet together, dropping one step at a time, the same way he did when he had a tail. Steve doesn’t fight it, he just waits at the bottom. They can work on all of that shit another time. Stairs can be lesson three, after lifting with your knees, or something.

They hobble into the kitchen together, like the worlds shittest three legged race competitors, and Steve gets Eddie into a chair at the table in the breakfast nook. His heart sinks at the sight of the inside of the fridge; there’s fuck all food for Eddie, and what's in the crisper draw is either soft or fully gone off.

“I’ll get you some peas, be right back.”

Steve grabs a bag out of the freezer; Eddie looks so tired, slumped at the table in one of his sweaters and a pair of Steve’s sleep pants. Steve makes him a bowl of peas and sticks a spoon in it, putting it on the table.

Eddie takes a spoonful quite enthusiastically, then immediately pulls a face. He does chew, and he does swallow, but he’s clearly not impressed, “cold.”

“Yeah baby, they’re always cold.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, “bad.”

“Oh. Well...I’ll make them hot?”

Eddie nods, pushing the bowl back. Steve takes the bowl, swapping them into a pot with some water and putting them on to boil. He decides to make himself bacon and eggs in a second pan while he waits, since that’ll be fast and easy.

He keeps looking over at Eddie; he can’t help himself really. Steve’s half convinced that this is one of those horrible dreams, and that something fucking awful will happen any second now. He looks so ill; it’s amazing how much of a stark difference the lack of hair has made to his appearance; it's, somehow, more shocking than his legs.

Steve flips his bacon and shuffles his eggs, then looks over again at Eddie. He’s up. Steve waits, breath held, as Eddie takes a dozen, tentative and shuffling steps across the kitchen. Steve stands with his hands out, ready to dart forward. He can’t help but think of a toddler taking his first steps unaided. Eddie makes it to Steve, taking both hands for the last few steps, “that’s great baby. You have legs!”

Eddie smiles wanly, “legs good...food?”

He looks over Steve’s shoulder at the pan, “yeah, you want to try?”

Eddie nods eagerly, and Steve slides the bacon and eggs onto his plate, giving Eddie the fork. Eddie eats both rashers of bacon with his fingers, using his claw like nails to lift the hot food and blow on it before he shoves it in, then he eats the eggs with the fork.

Steve’s toast pops while Eddie’s eating, “food?” he asks with his mouth still full of egg.

“Yeah baby, here,” Steve spreads both pieces with jelly, and Eddie eats those too, leaning against the counter. He seems a little better suddenly, a little more alert maybe.

“Stee food now?”

“Yeah, yeah, I will.” Steve makes it all again, Eddie watching avidly where he’s propped up against the counter; on a hunch, Steve makes twice what he wants to eat, pleased when he’s right, and Eddie picks off his plate, eating more.

Eddie burps, then looks shocked that the noise just came out of him. Steve laughs so much his eyes water.

They both stand at the bottom of the stairs, and it feels like looking up at mount Everest.

“Okay, we can do this buddy.”

“Not budidy. Baby.”

Steve sighs, smiling, “you got it baby.”

After what feels to Steve like forty days and forty nights of toil, they make it to the top. Eddie is very unsteady on his feet, like his obvious exhaustion is making his coordination worse again.

“Clean teeth,” he tells Steve on their way to bed.

“In the morning. They’re not going to fall out if we miss it once,” and the bathroom feels about fifty million miles away at this point.

They climb into bed together, and Eddie is asleep pretty much instantly. He’s snoring softly, quiet, but enough for Steve to hear it clearly. It makes it feel real almost. A confirmation that Eddie is really here, that he’s different now. Eddie never used to make a sound when he was sleeping; and now he does. Eddie has a leg thrown over Steve’s, and that’s real too.

Part Eighteen

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

With the way Eddie moved, he's definitely accidentally kissed Steve a few times to the point where Steve thought they were dating, but Eddie hadn't noticed anything differently until Robin said something.

"So, what are you getting Steve for your six month anniversary?" Robin asked when it was just the two of them.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"You and Steve have been dating for six months. What. Are. You. Getting. Him?" Robin asked. "It better be something special."

Eddie's eyes widened as he thought back. All the things that Steve’s been doing for him, the fact that Steve hasn't been on a date, and the accidental kisses that make Steve giggle. . . They've been holding hands. . . Oh God, not only does Eddie like men, but he likes Steve, and he's been dating Steve for the past six months. While Eddie was stewing in his own sexuality crisis, Robin was rambling about how great Steve thought it was that they hadn't had sex yet, how they were taking things slow, and how serious they were.

"I am a little curious about why you guys haven't said I love you to each other yet," Robin said.

"Oh my God! I love him!" Eddie realized.

"You're just realizing you love him now? Jesus, you're slow," Robin said.

"You have no idea," Eddie muttered. "I have to go get ready."

"It's not until Saturday. . .and this is your house!" Robin exclaimed.

Saturday rolled around, and Eddie was scrambling about Steve’s house, trying to get everything ready. Queen was playing quietly in the background while Eddie finished preparing the meal before Steve got home from work. It was lucky timing that he finished dinner just as Steve walked into the house.

"Eddie?!" Steve called out and entered the kitchen. "This is a lovely surprise."

"Hi," Eddie said softly and moved to kiss him. . .this time on purpose.

"This is nice. You look. . .very nice," Steve said, eyes raking over him.

Eddie was wearing his tightest black pants with an equally tight white button-up with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, a few hairs framing his face. He silently thanked Nancy and Vickie for helping with his outfit.

"This old thing?" Eddie scoffed.

"Eddie, you still have the tag on this shirt," Steve said in amusement.

"Fuck!" Eddie exclaimed and ripped it off the back of his neck, tossing it in the trash. "You saw nothing. Anyway, dinner is ready."

"I'll go change," Steve said, smiling. "I want to look as nice as you do."

"I'll keep it warm for you," Eddie said.

Eddie was setting the table and lighting the candles when Steve came down wearing a red button-up with the sleeves rolled up and his nicest pair of jeans. He looked good enough to eat.

"You look really good in red," Eddie grinned. "You look good enough to eat, baby."

"Well, the demobats obviously thought so," Steve joked, a dorky grin on his face.

"Steve!" Eddie whined. "Don't remind me. Anyway, sit! Sit!"

Eddie pulled out a chair and nodded for Steve to sit down. Steve sat down, smiling when Eddie pushed in his chair for him. He gazed up at him, staring lovingly at him. Eddie sucked in a breath. Steve looked so beautiful in the firelight, especially when he looked at him like that. Eddie cupped his face and leaned down to kiss him. Steve reached up and grasped the back of his head, deepening the kiss. Eddie sighed into his mouth and broke away, kissing his forehead. He sat down in front of Steve and watched him as he took off the cover. Steve gasped.

"My favorite!" Steve exclaimed.

"Spaghetti with cut up hot dogs," Eddie said, flashing his dimples at him. "Man, you are so weird. I love it."

"Thanks!" he laughed.

Eddie watched him fondly as he stuffed his face with food. His cheeks filled up until they were fat, and he smiled at Eddie as he chewed. He looked like a chipmunk. A very cute chipmunk.

"Hey, Steve?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah?" Steve asked when he swallowed his food.

"I love you," Eddie said, smiling at him when his cheeks turned red.

"I love you, too," Steve said, beaming.

Eddie groaned and wiped his face with his hands.

"You have to know, though, your boyfriend is a complete idiot," Eddie said.

"You're not an idiot, Eddie," Steve said softly.

Eddie laughed and then told him everything. There was a long stretch of silence when he finished up. Steve blinked rapidly, and then he started laughing.

"You're not mad?" Eddie asked with wide eyes.

Steve got up and walked around the table to sit in Eddie's lap.

"I don't care when you realized it," Steve said. "You love me. Tonight will just be our first official date, and six months from now, we will celebrate it then, too."

Steve kissed him deeply and pulled away, pressing his forehead against his. Eddie sighed happily as he ran his hands across Steve’s back. Steve went to move back to his seat but was yanked back down by Eddie. He pulled Steve’s plate around to set it next to his.

"Let's eat together," he said. "I love watching you eat. You look like a chipmunk."

"Shut up," Steve blushed.

"You do! A cute little chipmunk. My chipmunk," Eddie cooed.

Steve kissed him to quiet him, and Eddie giggled against his mouth. He may move as slow as a sloth, but he always got to where he needed to be.

[corroded-hellfire]

Okay. I absolute love ASW serie. And i have a request about the boy’s holiday concert and knowing what Eddie thinking when she arrived. 🥰

I love see you in my notifications. You’re the best 🫶

Ooh I’ve been so excited for this one! Been chomping at the bit for it to be Christmas time so @munson-blurbs and I could write it lol. Eddie’s mentioned before how pivotal of a moment this was in regards to how he feels about reader, so I’m very glad and thankful you requested this. I hope you enjoy ❤️

Words: 4.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

4:56. In four minutes, Eddie is supposed to take Ryan to school. The concert doesn’t start until 6, but kids have to be there early to warm up. He’s not quite sure how much a vocal warm-up will help second graders harmonize, but he’s not about to be the parent whose kid shows up late. 

His wife apparently does not share that same concern. 

4:57. 

Brittany was supposed to be home to watch Luke; Eddie knows better than to drag him along any earlier than he has to. Ryan is nervous enough about his solo, and he certainly doesn’t need his little brother incessantly asking questions that will only fuel his anxiety. 

4:58. 

“Daddy?” Ryan comes down the hall with you following close behind. “Can you tie my tie?”

Eddie nods, tongue poking from between his lips as he kneels down and fixes his son’s tie. It’s still a bit crooked—there are minimal opportunities for him to wear one as a mechanic, and even fewer now that he and Brittany rarely go on dates—but it will have to suffice. 

Tears gather in your eyes as you look at Ryan’s outfit, the red tie completing his white button-down, black slacks, and shiny shoes. “You’re so grown up!”

4:59. 

You catch Eddie glancing worriedly at the clock. He’s changed out of his coveralls and wears a maroon button-down shirt, cuffed at the elbows, and pants that match Ryan’s. He’s absolutely delicious; the thought of being the one to unbutton him has sweat prickling under your arms. 

“Ry, why don’t you go and get your brother?” Eddie says as gently as he can. Vaguely aware of the tension growing within his father, Ryan nods and heads off to do as he’s told.

As soon as the boy is out of earshot, Eddie mumbles, “shit” under his breath, and rubs his hand across his forehead. 

“He has to be there by—” you start to ask but are cut off by Eddie’s exasperated sigh.

“Yes, we need to leave. Now.” Eddie takes a deep breath and his eyes trail over to you. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to jump down your throat like that.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” you assure him with a shake of your head. “I completely get it. Brittany’s late, you need to get going, it’s stressful.”

“Yeah, Brittany’s late,” he murmurs more to himself before addressing you. “There’s no reason for me to take anything out on you, you’ve been nothing but wonderful.” His words send a pleasant tingle down your spine. As he takes a step closer, you look up at him beneath your eyelashes. “I’m sorry I snapped, sweetheart.”

“Really, Eddie, it’s okay.” Your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, trying to emphasize your point. All it does though is leave both of you on pins and needles at the touch. “Why don’t you go ahead and take Ryan?” you offer, reluctantly bringing your hand down. “I’ll bring Luke by for the start of the show. This way you don’t have to try to wrangle the little monkey while you’re getting Ryan where he needs to be.”

Eddie’s brow furrows together and he eyes you warily. “A-Are you sure? Because I don’t have a problem taking on both of them. I’ll use a spare tie as a leash for Luke if I have to.”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image that conjures. Luke would manage to get a foot or so away and Eddie would reel him back in like a catfish. 

“I don’t mind. Really. Cross my heart and all.”

Eddie takes another moment to consider it and concedes as he nods his head. “That would be really helpful. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you say with a dismissive wave. “I enjoy the talks Luke and I have when we hang out. I always end up learning something new.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie agrees with a breathy chuckle. “Has he told you that one milliliter of ocean water can contain about 10 million viruses? I got that one at dinner the other night.”

“He has,” you say with a soft giggle. “And yet, he still says going to the beach is what he always wishes for when he throws a coin in the fountain at the mall.”

“Are we going?” Luke’s booming voice precedes both boys as they come into the room. The younger Munson brother looks more annoyed than anything. He probably knows he’ll have to stand around and do nothing before he is forced to sit in an uncomfortable seat and made to listen to his schoolmates unwittingly butcher Christmas Carols. 

“Nope, you’re coming with me,” you tell Luke, poking him on the top of his head as he walks by. “Daddy’s taking Ryan to school now and I’m gonna take you for the show.”

“Oh, good,” Luke says with a sigh of relief. Even Ryan looks a bit relieved; he knows it’s hard to corral his little brother. 

Eddie’s also noticeably calmer as he prepares himself to leave the house. He pats his pockets, and the jingling of keys lets him know he’s got them. Another pat to his back pocket confirms he’s got his wallet as well.

“All right,” he says, looking to Ryan. “You got everything? We ready to go?”

“Uh, I think so,” Ryan says. He looks down at the secured tie around his neck and can’t come up with anything else he might need. 

“Then let’s hit the road. We’ll see you guys later,” Eddie says, nodding at you and Luke.

“Bye, Daddy! Remember, don’t drive on black ice!”

Luke’s warning makes you giggle to yourself as you wave Eddie and Ryan out the door. Once the sound of Eddie’s truck has faded out of the driveway and down the road, Luke turns to you and places his hands on his little hips.

“What’re we gonna do?” he asks. 

“Hmm.” You pretend to ponder over his question as you walk to the other side of the room and pick up your purse. “What about, we go up and get your nice clothes for the concert and put them in your Scooby Doo backpack.”

“Why?” Luke asks, wrinkling up his nose. The small boy has a lot of adorable quirks, but you’re pretty sure that one’s your favorite.

“Well, I was thinking,” you say with a shrug. “Nothing goes better with a Christmas concert than some cookies and hot cocoa. I thought you and I could go grab some at the cafe near my apartment. And I know you, you’ll end up wearing half the snack, so it’s better we don’t get you into those nicer clothes until you have to.”

Luke’s big blue eyes light up at the idea of the sugary confections. His head nods so quickly that, with his small shoulders, he looks like a Munson Bobblehead. 

“Good idea!” he calls behind him as he races towards his room, nearly tripping over his own feet. “I’m okay!”

The auditorium buzzes with excitement as you and Luke make your way down the aisle. Eddie sits in the front row, easily spotted by the mess of curls tucked into a low ponytail. His brown eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when he sees you. 

“Oh, wow—I mean, you made it!” Eddie can’t help but gaze at the way your green velvet dress hugs you in all the right places. It’s flattering without even teetering on inappropriate for an elementary school concert. He recovers awkwardly but quickly, reflexively pulling at his collar to give himself more room to breathe. “Here, um, you guys take a seat…”

Luke bounds over to his dad, plopping into the chair between the two of you. Better off, Eddie thinks wryly, before I do something I really shouldn’t. He glances over at the handmade Naughty and Nice list propped up on the stage; if anyone could read his thoughts right now, he knows exactly where his name would be written. 

“Daddy, I had hot cocoa and cookies! And the cookies had chocolate chunks in them. Not chips—chunks,” Luke clarifies, underscoring the importance of differentiating between the two. 

You shrug guiltily. “Sorry, I needed a way to get him out of the house on time,” you explain. 

Eddie laughs, ruffling Luke’s hair before turning to you. “Didn’t anyone teach you not to negotiate with terrorists?” But above Luke’s line of vision, he mouths thank you, the inaudible movement of his lips sending sparks to your lower belly. 

Someone slides into the seat next to Eddie; you expect him to say that it’s taken, but he barely notices. Neither does Luke, and that’s what breaks your heart. Both he and Ryan are so accustomed to their mom missing important events that they no longer bat an eye. 

The lights in the auditorium dim and the audience breaks into polite applause as the spotlights click on and teachers usher their small students to where they’re supposed to stand. You have no doubt this is part of what they practiced with the children being here so early, but there’s a handful of kids who still don’t seem to have a clue of what they’re doing. 

Ryan is easy to pick out of the crowd. He’s one of the taller boys in his class so he stands up on the back rafter, a spotlight hitting his hair just so to make it look like a honey brown waterfall. Quickly, he catches sight of you as well and waves to you, his father, and brother as the rest of the kids are reaching their intended destinations on stage. Both you and Eddie acknowledge Ryan with small waves, but Luke whips his arm up in the air and waves it back and forth like he’s trying to signal a helicopter where to land. 

Feedback crackles over the microphone on center stage as a teacher steps up to it. She clears her throat and shields her bespectacled eyes from the bright lights aimed her way. She taps once, twice on the microphone before she leans in to speak, short blonde curls falling in her face.

“Thank you, everyone, for joining us this evening for Hawkins Elementary School’s Festive Fun Holiday Concert.” There’s a small smattering of applause before she continues. “I am Mrs. Pierce. My class, along with the classes of Mrs. Lopez and Mr. Abrams, have been practicing very hard to bring you all a Christmas treat this evening.”

Luke has already tuned out the talking, his head on a swivel to take in all aspects of the small auditorium. He looks from the speakers to the light fixtures adorned with green garland, back to the kids on stage, then down the rows of the audience to see who all is there. You gently take his littler hand in yours and give it a soft squeeze. Just to ground him back in this moment from wherever his mind wandered off to. He smiles when you shoot him a wink and, now that the teachers are done talking, finds it easier to zone back into the show. 

Tinny music begins to play over the speakers stationed around the space and it takes you a moment to place the song as Let it Snow. The initial singing by the children is jarring, but not nearly as off-key as you were expecting. Some of the songs are a bit rough, but some are surprisingly pleasant as well. 

As the music transitions to the next song, you see Ryan take a step down from his rafter and make his way towards the front of the stage. He goes to one of the two microphones low enough for the children to access and waits. Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer starts with all the children, but by the look of how nervous Ryan is, you’d wager that he has a solo coming up. His small fingers twist against one another as he does his best not to look out into the crowd. Though he’s naturally a shy boy, you can tell there’s some stage fright in there as well. It’s evident that his part is fast approaching when you see his little chest swell with breath, then release it slowly. Grinning from ear to ear, you watch as Ryan takes half a step closer to the microphone and opens his mouth.

“Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say,

‘Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?’”

A look of relief washes over Ryan’s face, but you can also see a bit of pride in the way that he smiles. And he should be proud! His small solo was excellent, and you can’t wait to dote on him over it later. 

You glance over at Eddie; his grin stretches across his face so widely that you wouldn’t be shocked if his cheeks hurt. He catches you looking and turns his head slightly, one eye winking as if to say, thanks for being here for my kid. Thanks for being here with me. 

And maybe it’s the way you giggle, or the way you make sure Luke is comfortable before easing back into your seat, or the way you cheer for Ryan like you’re at a stadium concert, but something shifts within Eddie. He’s always found you beautiful; tonight, you were downright stunning in that dress. It was the oldest cliché in the book: dad crushing on the hot, young babysitter. That’s how he’d managed to brush it off all this time. He was a man with needs, you were an attractive woman. Simple biology. 

What he’s feeling now is anything but straightforward. He doesn’t just want to sleep with you; no, he wants you by his side at every school function, every birthday party, every moment of his life, big or small. And not as the babysitter; as his girl. 

No, this is not a crush, and it’s not a cliché. It’s love. 

After the concert, both you and Eddie are excited to greet Ryan and gush over how well he did. The unspoken fear that you both have though, is that the seven-year-old will be heartbroken when he finds out that his mother didn’t attend the performance. While Luke fidgets where you wait outside of the auditorium for his brother, you and Eddie trade nervous glances as the kids start coming out.

“Where is he?” Luke bemoans after the third student comes out and it isn’t the one he wants. 

Ryan comes barreling out of the red double doors, laughing with a group of his friends. The moment he spots you and his family, he waves goodbye to the other kids and dashes over to you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Eddie holding his breath, waiting on pins and needles to hear what the first thing out of his oldest son’s mouth will be.

“I did it!” Ryan cheers.

Eddie sags in relief and even you feel unburdened of a weight you weren’t aware you were holding. The smile on Ryan’s face is pure glee and he’s practically jumping up and down on the spot.

“I’m so proud of you!” Eddie tells him, throwing one arm around the boy’s shoulders and ruffling his hair with the other. “You were the best one up there.”

Ryan’s cheeks turn pink at his father’s praise. Of course, you just pile on top of it, relishing in the way he gets embarrassed and overjoyed at the same time. 

“My little George Michael!” you say as you pull Ryan in for a hug. His nose wrinkles up at your comparison but the smile on his face only grows.

Luke looks up at his big brother. “Y’know, I always thought it was froggy Christmas Eve.”

Despite his better judgment, Eddie asks, “bud…why would Christmas Eve be froggy?”

“I dunno,” Luke shrugs, “maybe Santa was delivering a lot of frogs. Or the reindeer got tired, so he had frogs pull his sleigh. Or—”

Eddie puts his hands on Luke’s shoulders and laughs. “All right, Frog Boy. What do you say we get home and celebrate Ryan’s rockstar moment?”

Everyone agrees to that, the four of you walking through the double doors and into the parking lot. Ryan takes Eddie’s hand, and Luke takes yours. 

“Where’d you park?” Eddie asks you, and you realize he wants to escort you to your car. Heat creeps up your neck at his small act of chivalry. Part of you suspects that if you shivered, he’d offer his jacket. 

Maybe if you were more courageous, you’d test that theory. 

“Oh, um, over there.” You point towards your car, leading the way. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on you; protectiveness with a hint of possession. It’s lust with something you can’t quite put your finger on. 

You dig your keys out of your bag, smiling triumphantly when you find them quickly. “I’ll see you boys tomorrow?” You laugh kindly, ruffling Ryan’s hair. “I’m so proud of you, Ry. You’re brave and talented.”

A blush settles into Ryan’s cheeks. “Thanks. Um, I’m glad you got to hear me sing. You’re the best.”

“Me, too,” Eddie chimes in, clearing his throat. “I mean, I’m glad you got to hear him sing, too. Not that I think you’re the best. Not that you’re not the best, because the kids love you, and you, um—”

“Hey, look what I found!” 

Eddie has never been more grateful for one of Luke’s interruptions. “What is it?”

“Mistletoe!” The little boy holds something that is certainly not mistletoe above his head. “See?”

Ryan scoffs. “That’s a leaf.”

“And a very dead one at that,” Eddie muses, plucking the stem from Luke’s fingers. 

A pout puckers Luke’s lips. “You gotta use your imagination!” he insists, taking the pseudo-mistletoe and jumping up and down between you and Eddie. “Now…you…gotta…kiss!”

“No, we don’t,” you and Eddie blurt out in unison. 

“Yes, you do,” Luke indignantly sighs. “It’s the law.”

Before he can wimp out, Eddie swoops in and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. Your skin tingles where his lips brushed against it, and you’re left speechless. 

Luke, however, remains unimpressed. “That wasn’t a real kiss!”

“Yeah, well, that’s not real mistletoe,” Eddie retorts, trying to compose himself. “C’mon, let’s get home. It’s past your bedtime.”

Eddie was hoping that the ride home would help lull the boys to sleep like it used to when they were babies. Ryan still has adrenaline going through him from the concert though, and Luke is feeding off of that energy.

They’re both talking a mile a minute and neither one of them quiet, but Eddie doesn’t hear a word they say because his mind is so focused on you. You offering to bring Luke to the school later when he had to bring Ryan. You in that curve-hugging dress. You showing up for Ryan when his own mother didn’t. You, with the softest skin when his lips brushed your cheek. 

Realizing that he’s in love with you should make Eddie feel worse than it does. The guilt that’s gnawing at his stomach is somewhat abated by the fact that Brittany’s been screwing a litany of men for years. Does it make it worse or better that she probably had no feelings for any of those men? He’s not sure it’s possible for her to truly love anyone besides herself.

Eddie can’t help the smile on his face as he thinks about his feelings for you, though. The way you make him happy is something that he hasn’t experienced in years—if Brittany ever truly made him this happy at all. Everything about you brings joy to Eddie. Well, other than when he thinks of how much younger you are and how you’re surrounded by college age guys who must be tripping over themselves to go out with you. That provides him with a sickening feeling that leaves him dizzy. It’s much easier to focus on the fantasy of being with you, not the reality of where or who you might be headed home to tonight. 

When Eddie pulls into the driveway, the boys are decidedly less quiet, though they’re still chatting away. Brittany’s car is parked there as well, sitting idly next to where Eddie’s truck now is. Eddie wordlessly gets out of the car and lets the boys keep talking about whatever it is they’re talking about as he walks with them up to the front door, the light dusting of snow floating down kissing their cheeks and noses. 

“It’s late, I want you boys to head to your rooms and put your pajamas on, okay?” Eddie says as he unlocks the door. Both boys agree—begrudgingly, on Luke’s part. 

Brittany isn’t in sight when they first step into the house, which has Eddie breathing a sigh of relief. He really shouldn’t be feeling that way about seeing his own wife, should he? Oh well, that ship sailed a long time ago.

The boys head down the hall and as Ryan passes the kitchen, he skids to a halt and does a double take. 

“Hi, Mom!” he says with an enthusiastic wave. Eddie’s prepared for his oldest to launch into the story of how great the concert was and how much fun he had, but he just continues down the hall towards his room. Luke didn’t even stop to greet his mother. 

Eddie drops his keys in the bowl by the door and shrugs out of his leather jacket. It’s slightly wet to the touch from the flurries that landed on him between the truck and the house.

If Brittany had just missed an event of his, Eddie wouldn’t give two shits or make a big deal of it. But this was Ryan’s big night, something that she should have wanted to and made sure to attend. Now Eddie feels the need to make a stink about it.

He wanders into the kitchen and slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans. As soon as he steps inside, he sees Brittany leaning against the counter with a glass of water in her hand, absolutely glaring at him. The look takes him aback. Why in the hell is he getting that look? She’s the one who has to explain herself. 

“I can’t believe you,” Brittany says, further shocking her husband. 

“I…what?” Eddie asks. He almost feels too dumbfounded to speak. It quickly crosses his mind that maybe she somehow figured out the epiphany he had about his feelings for you tonight, but if Brittany could read minds things would have gone downhill a lot sooner in their marriage than this. 

“You left without me. You couldn’t even wait until I got home?” Brittany slams the glass of water down on the counter and takes a step towards him. 

Eddie quickly checks to make sure the boys haven’t stepped in behind him before he raises his eyebrows and lowers his voice.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I did wait, Britt. I waited until the last goddamn minute. But Ryan had to get to the school, and I wasn’t about to make him late just because you couldn’t be bothered to be home on time.”

The sneer Brittany gives him could curdle milk. 

“So now my son is going to think that I don’t care because I didn’t go tonight,” she seethes.

Eddie toys with the idea of telling her that he didn’t seem to care one iota that she wasn’t there, but he doesn’t want Ryan to catch even a smidgen of her wrath. 

“You have a car. You know where the damn school is. Why didn’t you get your ass over there when you got home?”

“That isn’t the point!” she snaps. Eddie now knows that this argument has moved from rational and logic, to whatever bullshit straws Brittany can grasp at. 

“Okay,” Eddie says, knowing full well he’s already fighting a losing battle. “What is the point?” He crosses his arms over his chest and Brittany mirrors the action, as if annoyed she didn’t think of taking up the offended posture first. 

“That you didn’t wait for me. Your wife. I had to come home probably five minutes after you left!”

“And I told you why we left when we did. I also provided you with what you could have alternatively done, but that would mean admitting that you’re wrong and God forbid you do that.” Brittany opens her mouth, but Eddie shakes his head and cuts her off before she can say anything. “Fucking forget it. It’s late, I’m tired, I’m going to bed.”

Eddie goes to turn down the hallway towards the master bedroom when he realizes he never took off his boots. He stalks back to the front door and kicks them off, using the wall for balance. When his eyes flit back up from his feet, they catch sight of his jacket—and Brittany’s next to it. He narrows his eyes as he looks at them side by side. His is still wet from the melted snow coating it, but Brittany’s is wet as well. It’s not just the side where his jacket is brushing up against it, either. Eddie reaches for the arm of the jacket on the opposite side and feels that it’s just as wet as his own. If Brittany had really come home just after they’d left, there’s no way it would still be wet.

Dropping the jacket sleeve and letting out a huff of unamused laughter, Eddie shakes his head in disbelief. He shouldn’t be surprised, really. Brittany is no stranger to lying. She probably got home about five minutes before they did, but in typical Brittany fashion, had to spin everything so she’s the victim even when she’s the one in the wrong. 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mumbles to himself. He rubs at his eyes as he walks back down the hallway. He’s way too tired to deal with any of this bullshit. 

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. I’ll just get ready for bed and then I can lay down and think about the woman who actually shows up for me and my boys—and try to imagine she doesn’t do it purely out of the goodness of her heart, and that she enjoys spending time with me as much as I do her.

He can hear Brittany talking on the kitchen phone, prattling on to her friend about how her awful husband cruelly abandoned her at their son’s holiday concert. Looking over at the empty half of the bed, he pictures you sleeping there. His arms would wrap around you as you whisper about how proud you are of Ryan or relay a funny tidbit from Luke. Eddie would kiss your forehead as you drift off to sleep, reveling in your beauty even as you slumber.  His own eyelids soon grow heavy with the day’s physical and emotional exhaustion. Before he falls asleep, he manages to eke out a wish to dream of you tonight. 

[ladykailitha]

New Year's Eve

Hi!! I hope you all had a great year this year and that the next one is even better.

This is a sequel to this so be sure to read that first.

It does get spicy and there is a trigger warning for homophobic language (Steve's mom is a bitch).

Summary: Eddie and Steve ring in the new year as lovers and inspire others to do the same. Steve's mom tries to make trouble, but trouble finds her instead. All and in all, it's been a good year.

***

“I can’t wear that!” Eddie protested. “I’m going to the Newfield! I’m pretty sure it’s black tie to even breathe in its direction!”

Chrissy raised her eyebrow. “Do you want to know what Steve told me when asked me to help find you something to wear?”

Eddie looked at the red silk button up, the tight leather pants, the chunky boots and grey vest and then back up at her.

He sighed heavily. “Something about being me?”

“Close,” she admitted. “He told me that he wanted to make sure you stood out as the artist. That you were on display as much as your artwork. That people would look at you and go ‘yes, that is the master’. His words, not mine. But you don’t have to wear this. We can find something else.”

Eddie reached out to rub the silk of the shirt between this finger and his thumb.

“I’ll try it on first.”

Chrissy nodded.

He got dressed slowly, taking the time to admire each piece that Chrissy had picked out for him. The pants first. He loved the way they hugged his body without being skin tight. He pulled on the boots, happily twisting in the mirror. They went easily over the pants and highlighted how long his legs were.

Next came the shirt. It was a lot looser than he expected, making it almost billowy in nature. The silk felt divine against his skin. Chrissy tucked it into his pants and rolled up the sleeves. It kinda bunched at the waist, but when he put on the vest, it covered that immediately.

The whole ensemble was set off with leather bangles and chain bracelets on his wrists, a few necklaces that would show off the skin of the first three buttons of the shirt undone.

No earrings, though.

“I wanted earrings and to put your hair up,” Chrissy lamented. “But Steve said he liked your hair down.”

Eddie blushed. He had told Steve that a lot people seemed to think that because he had it long, he had to pull it back. But unless he was painting, Eddie liked it loose.

The fact that Steve had argued on his behalf in favor of leaving it down sent butterflies dancing in his ribcage.

“I like it,” Eddie said, looking into Chrissy’s three way mirror. “It’s classy without taking away who I am.”

Chrissy nodded. “Then I did my job right. I can’t believe I get to be your plus one at this.”

“Steve wanted to be my plus one,” Eddie said. “But then he found out he got ten free tickets to this it made the point moot.”

“Which means all your friends and family get to come,” Chrissy said with a fond smile.

He laughed. “More like he gets to invite all the kids because I also got ten free tickets as the featured artist.”

Her eyes went wide. “Really? So this going to be a blast tonight, isn’t it?”

He turned around a couple more times in the mirror. “Oh hell yeah!”

She clapped excitedly.

“Now show me your dress, Cinderella!” he crowed pushing her in the direction of her closet.

Chrissy giggled and pulled out a garment bag. She unzipped it and pulled out a long silver sheath dress with long sleeves and plunging neckline.

“Try it on and give me a twirl, love!” Eddie cooed.

She got out the underwear she was going to wear with it and slipped behind the mirror. Once she was dressed she stepped out and slowly spun in a circle.

Eddie wolf whistled. “You are going to finally bag that lesbian you’ve had your eye on with the dress, girly. You look fantastic!”

She tugged at the sleeve a little. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

Eddie picked her up and spun her around. “I think it’s perfect for an art exhibition.”

She blushed. “Yeah, okay. Let’s finish getting ready. We have to be at the Newfield by three so you can get everything how you want it.”

Eddie didn’t have much more to do so he wandered the loft a bit. It was strange to see it so empty. But all his artwork was either hung up or displayed to be auctioned off.

When Chrissy joined him, she had another garment bag and black silk shirt and deep blue vest.

“What’s this for?” he asked as he took the hanger from her.

“The exhibition tonight,” she said. “You can’t wear the same thing you wore to the auction, babe.”

He blinked at her in confusion. “Why not?”

“People are snobs,” was her curt response.

Eddie frowned but a slow smile spread over his face. “Does that mean that Steve has change too?”

Chrissy smacked his arm. “No sex in the Newfield, you heathen!”

“Well, someone has to pin the art to the walls,” he replied with a smirk.

She stared at him wide-eyed. “Did you just call Steve a work of art?”

“Yup!”

“Oh god,” she sighed. “This is going to be a long night.”

Eddie kissed her cheek. “You love me though.”

Chrissy batted him away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

*

The auction was huge success and they ended up raising more than three million dollars for “Roll Initiative”.

And according to Steve there would probably be checks waiting for them at the end of the night, too.

Eddie was sad to see the blue jewel toned tux Steve had been in for the auction go, but the outfit he arrived in for the exhibition more than made up for it.

He was all in black with matching long tie and pocket square. From a distance you almost couldn’t see the tie at all. It made Eddie feel things. Uncomfortable things considering how tight these leather pants were.

Eddie was coming back with two glasses of champagne for him and Steve when he saw the most elegant woman he had ever laid eyes on in his life chatting with him.

He got a little closer and realized they weren’t chatting, it was far too heated for a chat.

“I don’t even know why you’re here, Mom,” Steve was saying.

Mrs. Harrington waved him off. “All board members get tickets to these sort of events and when I heard you had booked the night, I just had to see who my son would pick for his little pet artist.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I wasn’t expecting this.” She waved her hand at the artwork on the wall.

“And what’s wrong with it?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

She flicked his forehead. “Don’t scowl, Steven. You don’t have much good looks to ruin, but don’t ruin what you have.”

Eddie had bite the inside of his cheek to avoid throwing hands with this woman.

Steve leveled her with a glare. “You could have looked up who he was, Mom. You didn’t have to come.”

Mrs. Harrington sneered. “What if I wanted to see my son? To see what he had done with all the money his father had left him?

Steve straightened up. “Don’t act like you didn’t get the lion’s share of Dad’s money when he died.”

“It was the least he could do considering he died of a heartache in that woman’s bed!” she hissed.

Steve barely suppressed a giggle, Eddie did not. She turned to him and critically eyed his clothes, his hair, his tattoos.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Mrs. Harrington snarled.

Eddie walked up to Steve and handed him a glass. Then with his free hand, slid it around Steve’s waist.

Steve leaned into Eddie’s side, soaking up the warmth and support. “This is Eddie Munson, Mom. The artist being shown tonight and my boyfriend.”

Contempt darkened her face as she looked him over again. “Just like your father, throwing events for the whores that grace his bed as favors. I thought you better than this, Steven.”

Eddie bristled but Steve laughed outright. “Oh, Mom. You know nothing about me if you think that. When was this event put on the schedule?”

Mrs. Harrington wiggled her shoulders. “I wouldn’t know, dear.”

“Bullshit,” Steve snapped. “You know very well when it was.”

She glared at him. “Fine, back in August. I don’t know the exact date.”

“The seventeenth. For the silent auction,” Steve acknowledged. “When was it turned into the double event.”

She squirmed under his gaze until she folded. “After Thanksgiving.”

Eddie turned to Steve in shock. “What?”

“That was when I decided it would be my Christmas gift to you,” Steve murmured, nuzzling Eddie neck.

“But we didn’t get together until Christmas!” Eddie said.

Mrs. Harrington looked away.

Steve scoffed. “Which you probably also knew, considering how close you are to Dr. Martin Brenner, the head of the board. Because I called him on Boxing Day to let him know the change in plans regarding the speeches tonight.”

She turned to scowl at him.

“And I’m betting that’s when you decided you wanted to crash the party,” Steve continued. “You couldn’t let me enjoy tonight with all my low brow friends and my boyfriend.”

“It’s demeaning!” she hissed. “Your father would be very displeased if you saw you now.”

Steve laughed again. “That’s what you said when I bought out the stockholders. And again when I changed the way the company did business. And again when I hired Robin. And again when I had the Hendersons move in with me when they lost their house to a fire. And again when when I came out as bisexual last year. I’m glad he would be displeased with me, because that means I’m doing something right.”

Mrs. Harrington gasped, bringing her hand to her chest. “We didn’t raise you this way! To wallow in the depths of sin!”

“No, you didn’t and thank God that Steve didn’t listen to a god damn thing,” Eddie said, tightening his grip on Steve’s waist. “Because this is the best, most beautiful, bright, wonderful human being I’ve ever met and I’m happy I get to call him mine.”

“He’ll tire of you, you know,” she smirked. “Just like his father. Always hopping from one bed to the next. He was always like that. Even as a child, never being able to focus on one thing for long. The way he would just prattle on.”

Eddie could feel the blood boil up under his skin. He was sure that it was just his parents that made Steve feel like he was too much, but home should be safe.

“Sounds more to me like bad parenting,” he said nonchalant, “then it being a problem with Steve.” He kissed Steve’s cheek. “Come on, babe. Jeff and the boys wanted to meet you.”

And then they left her standing there sputtering and stomping her foot.

They went in search of Eddie’s friends, who were thankfully all grouped together.

“Finally we get meet the man, the legend,” the short, fluffy haired one that reminded Steve of Dustin.

“Steve, these the remaining members of the Hellfire Club,” Eddie said, steadfastly ignoring the comment. “Jeff Lawrence, his girlfriend, Miranda Steiner, Gareth Hughes and his twin Gethin, and Brian Martin. Gethin and Miranda aren’t participating members, but are important nonetheless.”

Steve waved. “Nice to meet you all.”

Miranda looked around. “When Eddie told us that you had organized all this for him, I didn’t believe it. But it’s so amazing for people to come see this, see his work.”

Eddie’s phone went off. Then again. And again. He pulled it out to look at it.

“Holy shit!” he cried.

“What’s up, Ed?” Gareth asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I’m getting notifications from my website of people buying prints and posters and mugs...” he whispered.

“Looks like you’re going to have to expand your marketplace, Eds,” Steve murmured before kissing his cheek.

“T-shirts,” Jeff suggested. “I always wanted one of the half-elf fighter.”

“Tumblers!” Gareth said excitedly. “Or those insulated coffee mugs.”

“Dice boxes!” was Miranda’s contribution. “You could even start getting dice made based on your work. Like a purple and green swirling one for the half-orc bard.”

Eddie’s eyes glittered. “And selling that stuff would give me time to work on my own passion projects plus being able to focus on the charity...” He turned to Steve. “And it’s all because of you, Stevie. I can’t thank you enough.”

He pulled Steve closed and kissed fiercely on the lips.

Steve was bright red when they finally pulled apart. “You did all the work, babe, I just forced people to look.”

Eddie kissed him again. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I might have a couple of ideas,” Steve growled low and seductive.

Eddie gulped and then turned to his friends. “Yup, bye. It’s nice to seeing you all, but I’ve really got to dash!”

He grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him toward the bathroom. He hit all the stall doors to make sure they were empty and locked the door behind them.

“I almost creamed my pants at your little suggestion,” his voice came out as a low rumble, deep and dark from his chest.

Steve’s eyelids drooped and he looked up at Eddie through his eyelashes. “Did you now? It must have been so painful in those pants, darling. Should I help you out?”

Eddie gulped. He had brought Steve in here for the express purpose of getting off with his boyfriend, but now faced with the actual prospect of seeing Steve on his knees had him shaking.

Steve ran his hands over Eddie’s torso as he slid to the floor. He looked at his watch and grinned. “We’ve got fifteen minutes before the countdown. Let’s see if I can get you off before then.”

Eddie staggered against the door for something to support him because he knew once Steve got his mouth on him, his knees were going to buckle.

Steve slowly unzipped Eddie’s pants and was pleased to see that no there was nothing between him and Eddie’s cock. He slid his hands up and down Eddie’s thighs as he took in the sight.

Eddie was about to tell him to hurry up when Steve licked a slow agonizing stripe up his length. His retort became a moan of pleasure.

“Fuck, Stevie,” he gasped. “You feel so good.”

And then Steve took him completely in his mouth and good wasn’t even close as a descriptor for how amazing it felt.

Steve was licking, sucking, and kissing in turns and all Eddie could do was grab the beautiful man before him and hold on for dear life.

It didn’t take long for Eddie to come down Steve’s throat with a breathy moan.

Steve tucked him away and then Eddie pulled him to his feet to kiss him deeply.

“Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart,” he muttered against Steve’s lips. “That is the hardest I’ve ever come.”

Steve smirked. “That’s just the appetizer. The main course will be tonight after the exhibition. I just didn’t want you feeling uncomfortable all night because I gave you a raging hard on.”

Eddie chuckled. “My hero.”

Steve checked his watch and nodded. “We’ve got five minutes to wash up and get back out there before the ball drop.”

Eddie leaned his head against the door and let out a shuddering sigh. “I think mine already did.”

Steve laughed.

“Chrissy is going to kill me, by the way,” Eddie said once he had caught his breath enough to stand on his own.

“Oh?” he asked, looking up from where he was washing in hands in the basin.

“Yeah, she told me no sex in the Newfield,” he said, cocking his head to the side with an easy smile. “And that just happened.” He waved between them lazily indicating what they just got up to.

Steve laughed. “Oh boy, is she going to be in for a shock.”

Eddie walked over and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “Yeah, how’s that, babe?”

“It’s a badly kept secret that the board brings their lovers in here all the time to fuck among the art.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, god. I can’t wait to tell her.”

Steve grinned back at him and they got cleaned up and made it back out to the main area before the countdown.

Mrs. Harrington glared at them when they emerged hand in hand.

The countdown began.

“10.”

“9.”

“8.”

“Happy New Year’s Eds.”

“5.”

“Happy New Year’s, baby.”

“2.”

“1.”

They pressed their lips together as fireworks ignited outside, bursting over top of the Newfield to ring in the new year.

When they broke apart, they looked around for all their friends and family. Dustin and Suzie were making out under Eddie’s painting of the Entwives. Lucas and Max had their heads pressed together as they held hands. Wayne and Claudia were happily chatting away near a statue of some Greek hero. All of the Hellfire club had clustered together and were toasting the New Year. Even Robin and Chrissy had finally sealed the deal, judging from the way Chrissy was laughing into Robin’s neck.

But no, the surprise of the evening was the way El was smiling and hopping up and down joyfully at Will and Mike slow dancing to the music in their heads. Mike’s hand gently pressed against Will’s side while his other hand was clasped in Will’s. Will’s hand kept stroking Mike’s face like if he stopped, Mike would vanish into thin air.

Eddie licked his lips. “Well that’s new.”

Steve laughed. “It most certainly is. But it’s also a long time coming. I think they had to grow up first.”

“Do you–you don’t think they got together because of us, do you?” Eddie asked shyly.

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

“I mean it might have got their heads of their ass,” he said after a moment. “But that a thought for another time. I’m practically vibrating to get you out of those clothes.”

“You’ve got it, baby,” Eddie murmured, kissing the side of his mouth. “Let’s go say goodbye and then we’ll leave.”

They said their goodbyes and had reached the door when Steve felt someone pull on his arm.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Steven?” Mrs. Harrington hissed. “There is still an hour left and having both the host and artist leave before the end? Scandalous!”

Steve shrugged her off. “I’m an adult, Mom. I have been for nearly a decade. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“Maureen!” someone called out.

All three of them turned to see a distinguished older gentleman with a neat beard and shining eyes.

“Oliver!” Mrs. Harrington greeted.

Oliver Jensen was one of the museums biggest donors and on the board with her.

Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand and held it tightly.

“Word tonight has reached me of your homophobic views,” Oliver said with a rich accent that practically oozed grace and dignity. “I was hoping you would refute the rumor.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand. He didn’t know who this man was but he would be stupid not realize that he was on their side.

“It’s a perversion in the sight of God!” Mrs. Harrington hissed. “This man has corrupted my son.”

Oliver tilted his head in confusion. “He came out as bisexual three years ago and only recently met Mr. Munson, how could he have corrupted your son?”

“Have you seen the filth this man puts on his website?!” she snarled.

Oliver blinked at her. “Yes, of course. Talented young man. I’m quite fond of the Drow BDSM scene with the spider web behind them. I was hoping that the original would have been up for auction earlier and was sadly disappointed it wasn’t.”

“Text Stevie your address,” Eddie said. “I’ll have it mailed right over.”

Oliver lit up. “Oh would you? It’s my husband’s favorite piece!”

Mrs. Harrington blanched. But then she turned red. “You Satan’s spawn! You’ll go to hell too!”

Oliver snapped his fingers and Mrs. Harrington was being pulled away, kicking and screaming.

He pulled out his checkbook. “Who do I make this out to?” he asked Eddie. “You or the charity?”

Eddie blinked. “You don’t have to! Think of it as a gift for throwing the old hag out.”

Oliver laughed. “So the charity then.” He wrote out the check and handed it over to Steve because Eddie was too stunned to take it.

“Sir,” Steve said. “This is too much.”

Oliver waved him off. “Nonsense. It’s great to see children being encouraged to participate in things outside the norm.” He patted them both on the cheek and walked away.

Eddie finally startled out of his daze to look over Steve’s shoulder. There in big, bold, black ink was a check made out to Roll for Initiative to the tune of one million dollars.

“Oh shit.”

Steve could only agree. He carefully put it in his wallet so he wouldn’t lose it and then took Eddie’s hand again.

“Here’s to the best year I’ve ever had,” Steve murmured.

“And here’s to the next one that will be even better!” Eddie agreed.

They kissed as the fireworks continued to burst in the night sky behind them.

Later they would go Eddie’s loft and strip each other bare. Then they would make love several times before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

And when Steve woke up the next morning he found Eddie in front of an easel.

He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. “What’s got you working at seven am on New Year’s day?”

Eddie relaxed against Steve’s broad chest. “A companion piece to your Christmas present.”

Steve nuzzled him right below his ear. “Oh?”

“Nothing about your painting said that it was a D&D yellow dragon,” Eddie murmured. “So after tea, the yellow dragon transforms and...” He shoved hair in front of his face, even though he knew Steve couldn’t see it at that angle.

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps you show me what the dragon does to ravish his knight.”

“It’s a long way off from being finished.”

Steve took Eddie’s earlobe between his teeth. “I meant in the bedroom, darling.”

Eddie got up so fast that the knocked over the stool in his haste to get them back to the bedroom.

Steve laughed as he followed behind. He thought back to that day when he called and spoke Chrissy on a whim.

He had been so sure she would tell him to get lost. Dismiss him as just another creepy fanboy just trying to get into Eddie’s pants. He left the business card in their mailbox and hoped.

He got way more than he bargained for. All he wanted when he set out on this quest was to get something for the Party that they would cherish forever. What he got was lifelong friends, an amazing boyfriend, and Robin a girlfriend.

Perhaps magic existed after all.

***

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

[babybluebex]

kiss kiss | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: you had seen it all over your pinterest and tiktok, the white buttoned shirts that girls kissed with their favorite lipstick to decorate the shirts with a unique and loving detail for their boyfriends. it looked good, every attempt you had seen looked different and cute, and you couldn’t help yourself when you saw the white buttoned shirt in the back of joe’s closet... pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader tags: fluff fluff fluff, memories of your relationship with joe, a brief mention of sex but no actual smut author’s note: yeah so i had a rough go of it for a while and i may not be BACK back yet, but. have this. mwah

“Hey, babe?” you called, carrying the wire hanger out to the living room. Joe had been working all day, and he had his feet up now, watching Succession all over again to relax from his own work, and he furrowed his eyebrows when he saw the shirt. “Does this fit you anymore?”

“Yeah,” Joe answered. “Why?”

You shrugged. “No reason,” you replied, thinking fast for an excuse. “Going through our closets to see what we can donate. I just haven’t seen you wear it in a while, so I was wondering.”

“Are you gonna donate that?” Joe asked. “What else have you decided to get rid of?”

“Not a lot,” you told him. “The itchy pink jumper my mum got me for Christmas, and those shoes that pinch your toes.”

Joe crossed his arms behind his head and nodded, and he said, “You can get rid of that shirt. The sleeves are weird and pull at my armpits.”

“Good to know,” you nodded, and you went back to the bedroom. You already had your favorite array of lipsticks laid out, pink and red and brown and even a daring purple added to the lineup, and you settled yourself on the carpet. All of the pictures you had seen had used red lipstick, and you debated which lipstick to use for the task.

Maybe the Dior one that Joe had bought you to wear to the premiere of Stranger Things? That night had been fun— it was the first time you had ever gone to an event with Joe, even though you had been together for years, and he had gone all out in order to make sure it was memorable for you. He had rented an expensive Dior dress for you, with chic makeup to match, and he had gifted you the tube of red lipstick with an engraved xx Eddie on the cap as a keepsake. You rarely used it, afraid to damage it or ruin it in any way, and the bullet of the lipstick was still firm and crisp, having been used maybe twice in its whole lifetime. That night, you had partied with the cast, gotten pictures taken with your lover, and lived the high life for the first time ever. It was so much fun, but you definitely could not do it more than once a year.

Or maybe you should use the ancient lipstick that you had bought at Primark the night of your first date with Joe. You had been getting ready to meet the cute guy that you had matched with on Hinge, and you had realized in a panic that you had no lipstick. You rarely wore makeup back then, but you wanted to make an impression on this guy for some reason, so you ran to the nearest store and bought the first lipstick you could find. You were late to dinner and apologized profusely to Joseph, age 25, from South London, but he had smiled and said he didn’t care. “M’just glad you showed up at all,” he said. His chocolate eyes had melted over dinner as he looked at you, and, towards the end of the meal, he said, “You look beautiful, by the way. Like, your pictures on Hinge are nice, but in person, you’re so… You’re stunning.” Of course, you had assumed he was just trying to get in your pants, but he had departed the night with a kiss to your cheek and a wish to see you again, and you knew that he was something special. You couldn’t ever bear to get rid of the, at this point, four year old lipstick, and you kept it buried in the depths of your makeup bag.

Or maybe, just maybe, you should use the Maybelline lipstick that you had been wearing the day that Joe landed his job as Eddie. You had had a job interview that day and had read somewhere that red lipstick conveyed confidence, and you had gone to the interview with little hopes of anything. You were somewhat glad that they didn’t immediately offer you the job, and you knew that waiting for a response was better, but you still felt glum as you slumped back to the flat. You felt unaccomplished and worthless, and you couldn’t even settle fully into the door before Joe had flung his arms around you and spun you around. “Oh, Jesus!” you had cried, and Joe giggled as he kissed you hard, smearing your lipstick all over his own lips. “Joe! What’s happened?”

“I got the job!” he told you, his eyes wild and bright as he held your face. “I just got off the phone with my agent, they want me to be Eddie!”

“They?” you asked. You vaguely remembered a few months ago, how you and Wes had helped Joe prepare for a self-tape for a character named Eddie, but you knew very little about the role or project past that.

“The Duffers,” Joe said. “Stranger Things, Netflix, they want me! They’re offering me a role!”

“Netflix?” you repeated incredulously. “Oh my God! You got it!”

The night had ended with Chinese takeaway, passionate sex, and an email that you had gotten your own job. It was the happiest day you had had in months, and, even though you had no reason to keep that lipstick, you saw it as a good-luck charm.

You couldn’t decide. You wanted to use all of them, because they all represented something different, and you finally uncapped the Dior lipstick. You carefully applied it to your lips, taking care not to make it messy with the lack of mirror, and you collected the white shirt in your hands. Then, you pressed your waxy lips to the white material of the collar, inking in the shape of your lips forever. It looked cute, and you smiled at your work. One kiss mark was downright adorable, but you wanted more, like the ones you had seen, and you kissed right under the lapel of the shirt, pushing hard against your lips to really make sure the lipstick stayed.

At the end, there were probably a dozen kiss marks littering the top of the dress shirt, and you couldn’t control your glee. You just hoped that Joe would like it as much as you did. You got up from the floor and retrieved a makeup wipe, and you wiped up your messy mouth as you padded out to the hallway. “Babe,” you said softly, capturing the wipe in your fist. “Can you come try something on real quick?”

Joe nodded and grunted as he sat up from the couch, and he swiped a quick kiss on your forehead as he passed you to the bedroom. You slipped by him to get there first, and you picked up the shirt and held it out to him. Confusion etched Joe’s face as he looked at the makeup-covered shirt, and he said, “What is this?”

“I saw a Maison Margiela shirt a lot like this,” you explained. “And I thought you’d like it, but I also wanted it to be personal, y’know? Like… I don’t know, I feel dumb now—“

“No, no, don’t do that,” Joe said quickly. “You made this? Is this the shirt you just asked me about a few minutes ago?” You nodded timidly, and Joe smiled softly. “I love it. Will you help me try it on?”

“I mean, you know how it fits,” you started, but Joe wrinkled up his forehead and shook his head.

“I wanna wear it to dinner tonight,” Joe said. “And maybe, like, every other day too. Definitely to an event, so everyone can see how cute and creative you are.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Of course,” Joe said. He shucked his t-shirt over his head, mussing up his messy curls, and you helped him into the buttoned shirt, being careful not to smudge or aggravate the lipstick marks. You dutifully did up the small buttons for him, and you smiled at your handiwork as it laid on Joe’s chest and collarbones.

“Here,” you said, steering him towards the mirror. “How do you like it?”

Joe examined his reflection, his fingers lightly ghosting over the red lips, and he grinned like a child in excitement. “I love it,” he said. “It looks so good.”

“But it fits weird,” you mumbled, tugging at his shirt sleeves. “Does it still pull at your armpits?”

“Yeah,” Joe said. “But I don’t care about that. This is my new favorite shirt.”

“Joe,” you cooed with watery eyes, and you pressed your cheek into his shoulder, kissing his neck gently. “You’re lovely.”

“You’re lovelier,” Joe said. “Making me this? You’re adorable. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said softly. “My sweet boy.”

Joe did, in fact, wear that shirt to dinner that night, and you couldn’t control your smile all night. Your baby was a chronic outfit-repeater anyway, but the shirt became a regular part of his wardrobe, especially when he was traveling and felt particularly homesick. He would call you with tears in his eyes, saying how much he missed you, and the camera always showed that he was wearing that shirt. Finally, it came time for premieres and things, and, even though you declined being on his arm for the Quiet Place premiere, he had a piece of you with him underneath his suit jacket all night, right over his heart.

[elvensorceress]

Tuesday Tease 😘

tagged by the amazing @hippolotamus @wildlife4life @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley 💕 tagging (if you are so inclined) @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @heartshapedvows @wh0re-behavi0r @wikiangela @ronordmann @monsterrae1 @spaceprincessem @lover-of-mine @disasterbuckdiaz @giddyupbuck @astronaut-karenwilson @eddiescowboy @hoodie-buck @gayedmundodiaz @911onabc @transboybuckley 💕 have some of the boys getting ready for their date yes I dressed them up like poker date night shhh

Buck emerges from the bathroom in a dark button down, slender trousers perfectly tailored to his muscular thighs and long legs, and a dark, deep red velvet blazer Eddie swears he’s never seen before even just hanging in their closet. It’s possible Buck ran out and bought it while he was out, but maybe Eddie just doesn’t remember it. 

God, he would have to remember it though. Buck is breathtaking. Warm colors always look so good on him. Anything looks good on him. He’s gorgeous and looks soft to touch and Eddie has half a mind to forget going out to dinner and just nestle down on top of Buck and never do anything else. 

Buck gestures to himself and does a spin in the middle of their bedroom so Eddie gets the full rotation affect of every bit of soft crimson velvet and form fitting pants covering generous muscles. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

Eddie thinks he’s never seen anyone more beautiful. He’s thinks he’s never felt so happy or so lucky. He also thinks all the clothes can go back in the closet so they can have each other right now and then Eddie doesn’t have to pick anything to wear because who needs that. “You look beautiful,” he answers and it sounds as breathless and full of awe as he feels. “Handsome. You’re— you’re so beautiful.” 

Buck smiles like no one's ever told him as much and Eddie just wants to kiss him everywhere and never stop. “Okay, well," Buck says and ducks his head in that cute way Eddie loves. "You have to stop looking at me like that because it will make all of this come right off.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat? Because—” Eddie undoes the buttons on his own gray dress shirt that he’d tried on and definitely doesn’t like anymore. He tosses the shirt to the side so he’s naked from the waist up and quirks an eyebrow in challenge.

Buck actually, literally brings a hand to his face and bites his fist before pointing accusingly at Eddie and backing up toward the door. “No! No, no, we are going on a date. I am taking you on a date first and there will be clothes on, there will be no— naked? Nothing naked? Nothing naked until we’ve at least had dinner. We have a date to go on. Okay? Okay. Now we’re clear. You get dressed and I will be waiting out front. All the way dressed. No sexy abs and perfect pecs, no pretty nipples. Always shirt and pants on. We are having dinner first. Dinner,” he says with one more stern pointing before he disappears around the corner, presumably out into the living room. 

Eddie snickers to himself because it’s a little too easy and a little too fun to mess with Buck like this. He's far too adorable. Especially when he's flustered.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi Cal ❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️ can you please write

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️✉️

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Please and THANK YOUUUUUUU❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

Hell yeah I can!

21 for ⚡️:

---

First, butter Buck up so he’s feeling good. Second, act just possessive enough of him - like a dog peeing on a bush - that his parents leave him the fuck alone. Third, meet any of their passive aggressive horseshit with the appropriately petty energy, so Buck doesn’t have to. Eddie thinks it’s brilliant. He could lead a nation.

Part one is very easy. It requires zero exaggeration, because he has genuinely somehow ended up with somebody mouthwateringly gorgeous and generally wonderful. 

“My god,” Eddie whistles as Buck is changing into a pair of slacks and his signature just-too-tight button up. “Why would you decide to wear something that makes me immediately want to undress you?”

Buck smirks, cheeks turning pink. “Not hard to do, considering how much you like undressing me.”

Eddie steps into him and runs a hand along the soft pinkish color of his shirt. 

“Yeah, but it’s like you’re taking it to new extremes,” Eddie says, voice low. “Your arms in this.”

“You have to behave,” Buck swats Eddie’s hand away. He’s acting like he’s on task, but Eddie knows the compliments are working. “Besides, you’re not any better in those pants.”

Eddie looks down at himself. “What’s wrong with my pants?”

“Nothing and that’s the point,” Buck says. “You just can’t see your own ass.”

---

18 for 🌊:

---

“Um,” Chris tries again. “I forgot my Switch.”

“Yep,” Eddie says, voice a few octaves too high. “Why don’t you go get it?”

Buck struggles to put his shirt back on, hands shaking a little. It gets stuck on his head for a minute. 

“Right…” Chris says. “Sorry to interrupt your, uh, making out.”

Shannon chokes on a peel of laughter behind her palm. 

Eddie wants to die.

Chris walks off towards his bedrooms, cheeks pink.

The moment he’s out of earshot, Shannon drops her hand and starts cackling. 

“Okay,” Eddie frowns, unimpressed. “We were supposed to have the house to ourselves.”

“No, no, I know,” Shannon tries to compose herself, wiping honest to god tears from the corners of her eyes. “Just every time I wondered if seeing you with a guy for the first time would be awkward for me, I never thought it would be so much more awkward for you.”

Eddie sighs. “Buck, this is Shannon. My ex. Shannon, Buck, my…”

---

15 for 🌌:

( @steadfastsaturnsrings )

---

Buck rolls his eyes. “Eddie, I’m so pissed off. Like so pissed off. I really… I thought I was going crazy.”

“Right, so I-”

Buck raises a finger.

“Shut up for a second.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut.

“I am so pissed off,” Buck says again. “But if I didn’t fucking love you so much, and love what we are, there would be nothing to be mad about. If I didn’t love you, I would’ve just kept on with the way things were. It wasn’t my life you erased, Eddie. It was yours. So how can I help you not do that in a way that can’t be undone?”

Eddie covers his mouth with his hand, feeling his jaw and lower lip begin to shake.

---

21 for 🚨:

---

He always thought it was silly when people, listing phobias, spouted off scenarios that seemed impossible. Like being buried alive. But, right now, Eddie thinks he may have been buried alive. 

Oh fuck. 

Eddie pants, terrified. He is going to die. He is going to fucking die. He’s not even thirty. He’s going to fucking die before he turns thirty, just like Shannon. 

Shannon…

Christopher.

What the hell will happen to Christopher if he dies? Two parents dead in under a year? God. Fuck. His poor baby boy. This will hurt him so badly. 

At least he’ll have Buck. Buck will take care of him. Love him like his own, like he already does. Buck will keep him safe.

---

27 for 🌿:

( @goldenbcnes )

---

“And Maddie respects that, too,” Chim agrees. “Really, she does. I think she’s just stressed about how she’s going to balance everything as Margaret gets sicker.”

Eddie thinks of Shannon, all those years ago, leaving to take care of her dying mother. Obviously this is a completely different situation, but that undercurrent of stress on a dwindling timer is still there. It’s hard enough to do it and balance your own kid and marriage, let alone someone else’s kid, too. Buck can’t quite see that, from his perspective. Then again, his perspective is pretty narrowed by an otherwise completely reasonable fear.

“They need to talk,” Eddie sighs. 

“They really do,” Chim agrees. 

“It won’t go well if he feels like Nico is at risk of feeling the way he felt as a kid,” Eddie warns. 

“I know,” Chim replies. “When Jee was born, I couldn’t imagine her ever feeling tossed aside by me the way I felt by my own dad. The thought makes me feel crazy.” 

“I hear that,” Eddie agrees emphatically. And he does, is the thing. He had tried so hard, with Christopher especially, not to be his parents. Did he make some of the same mistakes? Yes. Of course. Especially when Chris was little, and Shannon was in the picture. But overall, he raised a son who isn’t afraid to talk about his feelings and can come to Eddie and Buck for help without fear of reproach. 

Christopher didn’t grow up feeling so much pressure the core of himself got crushed. Jee-Yun, from what Eddie knows of his niece, knows she is adored beyond measure by both her parents. And Nico, his sweet little boy, is utterly surrounded by people who adore him unconditionally. That’s what matters most. Everything else, they can figure out.

---

15 for 🩸:

---

Does that mean… Buck is here, right now?

Eddie gapes at the house for a moment. He figured, if Buck was alive, he was probably in the hospital. Or resting at home with Maddie caring for him, fussing over him like she had after he was struck by lightning. Why is he here? 

Eddie takes a few steps closer to the front stoop and considers it. Walking up, throwing the door open, begging Buck for his forgiveness and his help. Explaining that he was out of his mind. That he would never choose to hurt him. So, please, help him call his son. Help him get through this. He thinks Buck would probably forgive him, if he understood. It’s not in Buck’s nature to be unforgiving.  But before he can make a decision, Eddie hears the telltale click of the front door unlocking from the inside. Spooked, he ducks behind the Jeep, hiding himself.

---

18 for ✉️:

---

The final postcard is just a plain Los Angeles tourism piece. You could find it anywhere. It’s dated August 16th. The day after the day Christopher told Eddie he was ready to come home. 

Dear Chris,

I heard the news today that you’re coming home soon. So this will be the last postcard I send you. I hope it reaches you before you fly out.

I don’t want to be too sappy or anything and cramp your style, but I am really, really happy to hear you’re coming back to Los Angeles. It’s really not the same without you, kiddo.

One of the reasons I liked the idea of moving out here, all those years ago, was because of just how many people are in the city. It sounded hard to feel lonely with millions of people around you. But that was kind of immature thinking, on my part. Doesn’t matter how many people are nearby if YOUR people are far away.

So I’m glad you’ll be back. Zoo trip soon?

Lots of love and have a safe flight,

Buck

Eddie doesn’t know why he’s crying by the time he finishes reading. His throat is thick with an emotion he can’t easily untangle.

---

30 for 📚:

---

When it kept getting worse, and it was clear something beyond asthma was wrong, Ravi was almost relieved. He remembers that feeling. Like a further explanation would make it something other than an inherent flaw in him. And he supposes that is true. Neuroblastomas are a random mutation, not caused by anything the patient does at all. But a ridiculous thing to be glad about, in hindsight. 

In the end, it took close to four years of treatment before Ravi was done. Three surgeries. Multiple courses of chemotherapy. He was held back a grade, even. 

And as Ravi grew sicker and sicker, then, slowly but steadily, better, Anil hated him more and more. He never understood it. He never understood what he did. They hardly even got to spend time together those days, for Ravi to have done anything at all to Anil. He remembers wishing Anil could understand how tired he was, how much pain he was always in, and cut him a break. But empathy has never been his strong suit. 

Ravi’s mother tried to make him understand. 

“Your brother has always liked being in the center of any room he walks into,” she said one day, when Ravi was eleven. “But your illness has required a lot of attention from your father and I over the past few years.”

“I didn’t want this,” Ravi had complained. “I’m the one who is sick.”

But yet again, that hardly seemed to matter. What was or wasn’t in Ravi’s control was never the point. The point was that Ravi had something Anil craved like a vice. Attention. And no matter how many perfect grades or winning soccer games or remarks from teachers about what a charming, polite young boy he was, Anil couldn’t take it from Ravi. Not until Ravi was healthy again, anyway.

Ravi remembers that the family had a party for him, when he was officially considered in remission. Everyone from both sides of the family came. It was huge.

[momotonescreaming]

NUDIE PATIOOTIE FOR WIP WEEKEND PLEASE

ABSOLUTELY JUST FOR YOU!!! real talk i've barely touched this wip in months lmao so thank you for an excuse to work on it again!!

He wants him to look. And so Eddie does. Listens to the slide of leather against denim, as Steve pulls it through the loops. Pulls it out completely, folds it up in his hands, flexes and creases it just to watch Eddie’s throat bob as he swallows. He likes the way Steve looks with a belt in his hand, sue him. His boyfriend tosses it aside with his now abandoned shirt, not looking where it lands. Undoes the button on his pants, eyes still locked with Eddie’s as he undoes his fly. And fucking hell, Eddie can tell Steve’s not wearing underwear. Folding the waistband of his jeans down as if he’s unwrapping a present, revealing not the familiar sight of cotton boxer briefs but a tidy dark thicket of his pubes. Steve’s gaze is still soft, sensual, not teasing and hungry. It’s light and easy and Steve looks like he’s having fun. Eddie’s glad, even if he’s the hungry one. It’s not the goal of today, not the point, so Eddie pushes it down, and lets himself enjoy it for what it is.

Make me write for WIP Weekend!

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

Hi Ryan 🖤 can I ask for “would you like to go on a date?” “i could do a date.” Pls and thank you ✨

Hello Rae 💖 I really like this one, hope you do too

Eddie fiddles nervously with the buttons on his uniform. He can’t stop his fingers from trembling as he unbuttons each one slowly, his gaze zeroed in on the locker he shares with Buck.

Buck is still in the showers. Their last call was long and had ended with most of them coming back to the station covered in mud and debris. Eddie had managed to walk away from the call with his boots and the bottom of his turnout pants wearing most of the damage.

He finally gets his shirt unbuttoned and off. He pulls on a soft, grey henley, trying to ignore how tight his chest feels.

He’s going to ask Buck out on a date.

Eddie isn’t entirely sure what it is about today that has made him feel brave enough to finally plunge over the exceedingly blurred line of friendship and more that he and Buck have been straddling for months–years, if he’s being honest.

Maybe it’s because there is nothing special about today. It has been like every other day. He woke up to the sounds of that wicked Hildy machine making coffee and the sound of Buck’s sock covered feet dancing around to the faint music playing in the kitchen. He could hear the faint sound of Buck humming along as he made breakfast, the sweet smell of chocolate chip pancakes wafting through Eddie’s cracked door and wrapping around his heart. He had smiled into his pillow, knowing that once he got up and went into the kitchen there would be a mug waiting for him, made just the way he likes it, and Buck would be there smiling and soft in his hoodie and fuzzy socks, his hair wild and curly. He knew with the most sacred and beautiful certainty that Buck would tease him and Chris for being so grumpy in the mornings, and he would run a hand through Chris’ curls (something only Buck is allowed to do nowadays, if Eddie wasn’t so in love he might be bitter), and the three of them would eat and laugh and plan out their upcoming trip to the aquarium. That certainty, that knowledge that Buck would be there making things better like he always does, made it easy to get out of bed.

They had driven to the station together, Buck driving and singing along obnoxiously to his Taylor Swift playlist, and Eddie smiling fondly at him, unwilling to admit he knows the words just as well as Buck.

They had worked together throughout the day like always. Perfectly in sync, trading jokes and teasing remarks, hands brushing across shoulders and chests, eyes lingering, and smiles lasting longer than they should.

Today has been steady, normal, reliable, comfortable, and Eddie wants the rest of his days to be just like this one. And they can be. He’s finally at a point in his life where he’s willing to accept that he deserves to reach out and grasp for what he wants, he deserves to ask Buck for more, he deserves to have a peaceful, happy life with the man he loves and their son.

So, he’s going to ask Buck on a date. He’s going to make the first move because he knows Buck won’t. Buck who’s still too afraid to take, so Eddie is just going to give and give.

All of that doesn’t stop the nerves though. There is a small chance that Buck will say no, that he doesn’t want anything more from Eddie, and he can be fine with that, he will be fine with that if it’s the case, but he really doesn’t think it is.

Buck comes out of the shower, dressed in the orange t-shirt that Eddie loves. It makes Buck glow, makes his eyes and smile and birthmark brighter. He smiles wide when he sees Eddie waiting for him on the bench in the locker room, ducking his head as a pleased flush paints his cheeks.

Eddie stands up, wiping his sweaty hands on his jean covered thighs and inhaling deeply.

Buck quirks an eyebrow, noticing Eddie’s nervousness immediately. “You okay?”

Eddie smiles, loving how much Buck knows him, loving that he asks, loving how he makes Eddie feel so cared for and safe with just two words.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “I just–I wanna ask you something. And, I want you to know that it’s okay if you say no. There were won’t be any hard feelings, and it won’t affect us, I promise, so don’t feel bad if it’s not something–”

“Woah woah, Eddie, slow down,” Buck says gently, crossing the distance between them. He gives Eddie a look, silently asking if he can touch him, and Eddie nods.

Buck puts his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, curling them around and rubbing slightly.

All of the tension and nerves immediately leave his body. Buck’s touch fills him with nothing but peace and relief.

Buck smiles at how visibly Eddie reacts to his touch and slowly drags his hands down Eddie’s arms until he reaches Eddie’s hands. He tangles their fingers together, and Eddie loves loves loves him.

“Ask me, Eddie,” he says softly. “Whatever it is, I can’t imagine I’d say no to you.”

Eddie’s breath hitches in his chest. He squeezes Buck’s hand, delighting in the dual softness and roughness of Buck’s skin. “Would you like to go on a date?”

Buck’s eyes go wide. His mouth drops open in a cute little “o” and Eddie is overwhelmed by the dueling need to drag Buck into a hug and bury his face in Buck’s neck and the desire to push Buck to his knees and find out what those plush lips look like around his cock.

“Uh, Buck?” Eddie asks nervously after Buck still hasn’t said anything.

Buck shakes his head and pulls Eddie in close with his hands. “Y-yeah. I, um, I could do a date.” His smile is sweet and soft and holy fuck Eddie did that. The thought of going on a date with him put that smile on Buck’s face and it makes Eddie’s knees weak.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, feeling giddy and so fucking happy he could melt into a puddle right here.

Buck nods eagerly. “Yeah,” he breathes and steps closer to Eddie.

“How–how do you feel about kissing before the first date?” He asks, looking at Eddie’s lips and licking his own.

Eddie is well aware that he has no self control when it comes to Buck, so while he has daydreamed about taking Buck out, wooing and seducing him over dinner and wine, and kissing him for the first time in the doorway of their home, he couldn’t possibly deny Buck this. Besides, kissing here, where they first met, where their bond was forged and strengthened over and over, well, that isn’t so bad.

“I’m very amenable,” Eddie murmurs and kisses him, groaning a little at how soft Buck’s mouth is. The tip of Buck’s tongue slips inside Eddie’s mouth, grabbing a quick taste, and all Eddie can think is, ‘I wonder how he feels about proposing before the first date?’

hesitant love prompts

[banannabethchase]

SethEddie "I know you meant that to be scary but it was actually really hot."

Such a Sucker for It - also on AO3

~

Seth is visiting with Eddie after the tag match on Collision, and Eddie is pissed off. All the better for Seth's intentions.

~

For Sarah's prompt: SethEddie "I know you meant that to be scary but it was actually really hot." Title from Martyr by King Mala, and I do not apologize for the mild blasphemy as I thought it was funny.

~

“Fucking pricks,” Eddie growls. Seth watches as he drops down onto the bench in the locker room and chucks his boots at the wall. “Hurting Ortiz like that. Gonna drop both of them on their goddamned heads, maybe rip Bryan’s hair out by the stupid ponytail.” His eyes gleam with rage. And, well.

Seth is only a man, after all.

“I know you meant that to be scary,” Seth begins. He unbuttons his shirt – a bit boring for his general mood, a tasteful deep teal over black jeans – and throws it off his shoulders. “But it was actually really hot.” He drops it on the floor in front of Eddie and steps away backward as he undoes his belt. “You wanna take some of that rage out on a willing, nubile body?” He drops his pants to the ground, kicking them toward Eddie. “Maybe you can pull my hair, too.”

Eddie sighs, licking his lips. Seth can see him fidgeting with something in his pocket. “You sure you know what you’re asking for, pretty boy?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Seth gets to the showers and turns it on. “Oh no,” he says, throwing a pout in Eddie’s direction. “Now I’m all wet. Look how vulnerable I am.” He turns around and can feel Eddie’s eyes on his ass. With a quick glance, he catches sight of a bottle of shampoo. He flails out his arm and knocks it over. “Oops!” He grins at Eddie. “Gotta pick that up.” He bends down. “It would be so terrible if somebody came and gave me the dicking down of my life right now.”

“You are fucking impossible.” Eddie’s voice is closer than Seth had expected, but father away than he’d hoped. “Stand up, you brat.”

Seth does what he’s told, seeing Eddie with his arms folded across his chest. “You coming?” He winks at the innuendo.

Eddie groans. “Jesus. You really know how to push a guy’s buttons, don’t you.”

“Something, something, pushing my button on your dick, something,” Seth says. He drops his head under the warm water and moans. “Just get in me already.”

“On my mother, I regret the day I met you.” With those words, Eddie crowds up behind Seth and shoves him against the wall. “Spread your legs, you fuckin’ menace,” he growls. “I’m gonna ruin you.”

“Fucking finally,” Seth chuckles. He arches his back so his ass is out and slides his feet. “Go for it, big man.”

He feels Eddie sigh against his neck before he bites down, hands gripping at Seth’s hips. “Who the fuck did I piss off to get you in my way all the time, huh?” He slides a hand between Seth’s cheeks. “What kind of punishment are you?”

“Best kind,” Seth says. “Are you gonna get in me now or not?”

“I hate Mox for introducing me to you,” Eddie says, biting at Seth’s shoulder. Seth hears a click and grins. Nobody can ever resist him for that long. “You know that?”

“I don’t,” Seth says, teeth on his lip so hard he’s worried he’s going to draw blood.

Eddie sighs and smacks Seth’s ass. “Petulant little shit.”

Seth grins. “Yeah? Punish me, why don’t you.”

“I thought you were my punishment?”

“Same difference,” Seth says. He groans as Eddie spreads his cheeks. But nothing happens. “You going to do something or stare?”

“You got a problem with me admiring you?” Eddie asks. “Getting an eyeful of the pretty little hole I’m going to destroy.”

Seth whines. “Can you just fuck me already? This is taking forever.”

“Of course it is,” and Seth can practically hear the smug smile. “That’s the point.”

Seth loves to be looked at. It’s kind of his thing, attention. Usually he bathes in it, would drop to his knees and beg for it if it got eyes on him.

But this? This felt cruel.

“Usually when people stare at me this much I’m about to win a belt or something.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “No belt here, baby. None of our four are water proof.”

“That’s an idea,” Seth says. “What if we – mother fucker.” Eddie decided that when Seth was mid-sentence was the time to slide a finger in him with no warning. It’s sudden and startling and fucking perfect. “Do that with your dick next time and I’m a happy man.”

“No, dumbass,” Eddie says. “I’m not hurting you for real.”

“Why not?” Seth whines. He has to wiggle his hips so Eddie’s finger starts to move. “Rough me up. Make me wrestle funny and walk like a fucked up duck. I’m okay with it.”

“You’re so,” Eddie says, and he pumps his fingers a few times before adding another roughly, exactly how Seth wants it, “goddamned stupid, you know that?”

“Insults!” Seth is giddy. Jubilant, even. “Now call me a dumb slut!”

“You can’t demand your degradation kink like that,” Eddie says, twisting his fingers. Seth rolls back against them, trying to demand with his body instead of his words. “That’s now how it works.”

“It should be,” Seth says, and he almost complains when Eddie takes out his fingers until he feels a much thicker something nudge against his entrance. “Oh. Oh, yes.”

“This gonna shut you up?” Eddie asks. And he doesn’t – it’s not fast enough, not as hard as Seth actually, really, wants it, but it’s faster than Eddie usually goes and it’s good.

Seth drops his forehead against the wall, feeling stretch and ache and full. He wants to shove backward onto Eddie’s dick, but Eddie’s hips hold him firm.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he draws out slowly, drawing a whine from Seth. “Don’t worry, baby, you don’t gotta say nothin’.” He gets his teeth on the back of Seth’s neck, just enough that it’ll bruise. Seth feels like he’s going to die, and it’ll be the best way to go out. He’ll have to make sure someone writes, “Here lies Seth Rollins, got railed to death and loved it” on his tombstone. “I’ll give it to you so good.”

Eddie keeps going slowly for a minute, like he wants Seth to adjust, but then he speeds up. Seth braces his arms against the wall and shoves his ass back. “Giving me a good angle like a good boy,” Eddie chuckles. “That’s all you wanted, isn’t it? You know your place is on my dick.”

Seth is literally panting at this point. If he were anyone else, he might be able to muster up some shame about how desperate he is for it. “Yeah,” Seth gasps. “Always. Come on. Give it to me.”

“Must not be doing it right if you’re still able to talk.”

And then Eddie goes. It’s what Seth’s wanted, exactly what he wanted.

“That’s my good fuck toy,” Eddie chuckles. “That’s where you wanted this to go, yeah?” He’s panting, grunting in between words. It’s all Seth can do not to slide down the wall. “Let me use you until I’m done. Yeah?” He reaches around and gets a hand around Seth’s cock. “Come on, Sethy. You know you wanna come.”

Seth whimpers. He does. He really does.

“So do it,” Eddie says. “Come all over my cock, pretty boy. Scream my name.”

Seth does. He comes and yells and gasps and dies a little bit, but resurrects in a whole new perspective of the world. He’s like a fleshlight Jesus, he muses.

He slumps against the wall.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Eddie says. “I ain’t done with you yet.” Aftershocks ripple through Seth as Eddie takes the last ounces of strength from his body, and Seth feels him come as much as he hears the groan into his ear. “Fucking hell, Seth,” Eddie exhales. “Fuck. I’m too old for this shit.”

Seth laughs, turning to him. He winces as Eddie slips out of him, already with an ache running through his whole body. He faces Eddie to see him smiling. “Didn’t feel like it,” Seth murmurs. “Goddamn, Eddie. You went rough on me.” He leans in to Eddie’s ear. “I fucking loved it.”

“I know you did,” Eddie says. He leans in and kisses Seth, quick. “Now let me wash your hair with that stupid purple shampoo.”

Seth nods and sighs, letting Eddie soap him up and rinse him all over. He doesn’t ask for more, and only partially because he can’t find the right joke to rile Eddie up again.

“I’m stealing this,” he says, when they step out of the shower. He picks up a black, cozy sweatshirt and pulls it on over his damp hair. He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him as he does it, and it’s almost as warm as the clothing.

“The funny thing is,” Eddie says, yawning. “I thought you were gonna grab the Ring of Honor belt. Not my hoodie.”

Seth shrugs it on, wrapping himself up. “I already got that belt once,” he says, shrugging. “This?” He breathes in. “This nobody else in the world will get.”

“Fuck – now you’re being sweet about it?” Eddie shakes his head, then walks up to Seth. “You’ll be the death of me, Rollins.”

Seth leans in to kiss him. “Put me on your life insurance policy then, Kingston.”

~

Mini Playlist: Martyr - King Mala Hit it From the Back - Kim Petras Talking Body - Tove Lo Treat Me Like a Slut - Kim Petras

[michinnyun]

Smile!

Pairing: Dano!Riddler x F!Reader

Summary: I basically was thinking "What if Reader and Edward were both bottoms and also both obsessively crazy about each other?" and this was the result. PLEASE enjoy this pure filth

Tags: Smut × kind of fluff? × idk - Freeform × maybe ooc tehe × Cameras × Polaroid × PIV × oral m receiving × Oral Sex × Rough Sex × bottom vs bottom who will win × Lingerie × Sweet Edward Nygma

Words: 1.9k

Ao3 link

You’ve never worn anything like this before. Pink and lacy. Virginal. But you’d do anything for your Eddie. So when the package arrives, you take it out of the box and admire your lingerie in the waning light of your apartment.

Eddie is busy that night, but you make sure to send him lots of pictures, your doe eyes and pretty tits front and center for the camera. In the middle of his stream, he sends you evidence of his own enjoyment, hard cock dribbling precum under his desk. Your own private show.

You put the lingerie on under your clothes the next morning and wear it all day. At work, at the library. So you aren’t surprised when you come home and feel the door slam shut behind you, Edward pinning you against the wall until your lipstick leaves a smudge on the plaster.

Fumbling hands reach for the button of your pants, pulling the fly down and revealing the bottoms of the set. Pink and transparent with bows and flowers everywhere. Almost sickeningly sweet. Edward whines.

“This for me?” he asks, cupping your sex.

You wriggle, trying to escape his grip on you. “Maybe.”

He laughs softly, pushing the underwear aside and dipping into you with gloved fingers. You choke. “Already so wet and you expect me to believe this is for someone else? No.”

He turns you around so you’re face to face with the Riddler, green eyes boring holes into your head through his clear frames. Your voice shakes. “Eddie-”

He presses a kiss to your mouth through the mask, almost comically gentle. Your eyes slip shut. “Angel,” he murmurs.

Without warning, he picks you up in his arms and carries you to your room, depositing you on the bed. You often forget how strong Edward can be. 

He takes his carpet tucker out of a jacket pocket, setting it down on the nightstand. Your breath hitches. “Oh no,” you simper, your eyes widening. “Please Mr. Riddler, I’ll do whatever you want. Please don’t hurt me.”

Eddie laughs again, a real laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

You smile back at him, taking off his glasses and setting them next to the carpet tucker.

“I want to see you,” he whines as you remove the mask, revealing his smiling, cherubic face.

“Jesus, be patient,” you admonish, placing his frames back on his face. He looks down at you with clear eyes, pulling your shirt up so he could see the top half of your set. He practically drools as he cups your breasts in his palms.

“Very nice,” he says. “Whoever got that for you must have impeccable taste.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you groan, leaning up until he obeys, smiling all the while. You break away to take off your shirt, blushing as Edward sits back and admires you.

“You’re so pretty,” he says, gathering you up in his arms like a rag doll to kiss you again. “I love you.”

“You’re real sappy today, Nashton,” you say. “I guess you missed me?”

He groans, sucking a wet mark into your pulse. “You have no idea,” he says, rutting into you.

You gasp, arching into him. The thing about Edward is that he’s obsessed with you. He keeps an eye on you through local security cameras, buys you little gifts that are already waiting for you once you arrive at your destination. At this point, the receptionist at work isn’t even phased by the flower deliveries anymore.

It’s really good then, that you’re obsessed with him too. Each bouquet is dried and preserved, each trinket and card stowed in a special box for you to peruse when you’re missing him. Another box is dedicated entirely to polaroids of him; smiling, laughing, wearing the Riddler mask and just hanging out on your couch. There’s another genre of polaroids in there too, and you’re hoping to add to the collection today.

Your camera is in the drawer of your night stand, and Edward fumbles for it as you tug his jacket off, setting it under your head so you can be surrounded by his smell. He leans back again, making sure the camera has enough film as you pose for him.

You smile cheekily, gazing up at him from under your lashes as the flash goes off, temporarily blinding you. He kisses you, slipping his tongue in and making you gasp. 

The first time you’d kissed, he’d been so eager. A little too eager, actually.  It had taken you a while to show him how to kiss properly, how to make your legs go numb so that you’d wilt for him like a delicate flower.

He’s gotten the hang of it now, kissing you so expertly that your head spins and you don’t ever want another breath of oxygen again if it’s not provided by him.

“I like you so much, Eddie,” you whisper, staring up at him and his ruddy cheeks. “I love you.” You give him another peck. “Even if you’re a bastard.”

He pinches your side and you scream in delight, wriggling under him until he’s forced to pin you down. You sigh, arching into his hard length and then flopping back onto the bed.

“Now who’s impatient?” he tuts, sucking another mark into your collarbone and admiring his work as your writhe underneath him. You whine, growing wetter as he claims you, ensuring you’ll have to wear a scarf to work for the next two weeks.

He takes another picture, this time with your chest and collarbone wet and mottled with love bites and purple bruises. He lifts your bra, laving his cold tongue over your nipple until you grip his hair a little too tightly, making him buck into you.

“Hngh, I-” he cuts himself off, grinding deeply into you until there’s a noticeable wet spot on his crotch. You blush, out of breath, watching as he loses himself and succumbs to his baser instincts.

He pulls his pants down and you jump up at the opportunity to push him onto his back, climbing over him and taking his cock out of his underwear. Caressing him, cupping him in your hand until he’s whining and breathless, letting your saliva drip onto the head while your breasts are still exposed.

“Eddie,” you sigh, gathering your saliva and enveloping him in your mouth until he shouts. You suck and lick, taking as much of him as you can while still watching his face. His eyes are rolled into the back of his head, and you suddenly want him to come in your mouth so badly it hurts. You want him in the back of your throat, fucking your face. You’d do anything for him.

He grabs you by the hair, eyes wild as he pulls you into another kiss before laying back down again and shoving your panties aside. He enters you without preamble, making you both groan breathlessly.

His moans are whiny, high pitched, like a girl in a porn video. You love when he gets like this.

He fucks you hard and fast, revenge for the way you almost sucked the life out of him a minute ago. You bounce on his cock as he grips your thighs hard enough to bruise, the noises of your lovemaking echoing in the small room.

There’s no rhythm, no sense to his movements. He just needs to fuck you.

Edward pulls you down until he can put his tongue in your mouth, letting you suck on it while he moves your body on top of him.

“Eddie,” you whine, pulling away and sitting up, bringing his hands to your breasts. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you chant, pushing down onto his length as hard as you can. He lets out the cutest little scream, shoving his hips into yours as you fuck each other hard enough to bring down the building, bring down Gotham itself.

Your head falls back as you surrender to the sensations, Eddie using you and filling you so perfectly. Then he pulls out.

Your eyes whip down to him, betrayed and confused until he pushes you onto your back, urging you to flip over until your stomach is one the bed. He keeps your legs pressed together, knees on either side of your body and slipping his cock between your thighs until he breaches your entrance again. Your breath shakes, your fingers gripping the duvet as the tight slide becomes almost unbearable and the tip of his dick kisses your cervix.

You moan, a high pitched sound that gives him a run for his money. “Fuck,” he whimpers, rutting into you until you arch your back. He reaches for the polaroid again, taking a picture of you skewered on his cock with your underwear half on. He wants to come, so badly, but you look so blissed out as you turn your face to the side, hair curling with sweat as he fucks you.

“So good,” you murmur, and he leans down until he can press his lips to the corner of your mouth. “Eddie, I wanna come.”

His dick twitches at that. You can feel it as he stutters, gripping your neck with one hand and the camera in the other.

“Smile,” he says, lifting your head and placing the camera in front of your face. You can’t pose, you can’t think, you just let him snap the picture as the flash burns bright into your eyelids. 

“Nngh,” you groan, pushing back against him as hard as you can. The position doesn’t allow for much movement on your part, and your back feels like it’s about to snap in half with how much you’re curving towards him, but you can’t stop. He feels so good, thick, hard and pulsing in your cunt as he relishes the slick suction of your bodies. He’s bliss, heaven between your legs and you don’t want it to end.

“God, your pussy,” he mumbles against your ear, leaning down until he’s crushing your body against the mattress and you’re gasping for air as he mounts you. “So fucking tight. I love you, I love you.” He tries to kiss you again, but it’s hard with the angle.

“Unh, I love you, love you, Eddie-” you gasp, craning your neck until you connect in a messy slide of tongues that has you closer to the edge.

You grunt, pushing against him until he gets the message. His hand sneaks under your belly, and he rubs the cloth of your underwear into your clit until you’re crying, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you shove your face into the pillow to muffle your sounds.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he murmurs, fucking you harder through your orgasm until your cheeks are red with overexertion and you feel like you’re about to collapse. He pulls out again, flipping you onto your back.

“Where should I come,” he asks, frantic, jerking himself off above you. “Tell me where you want it.” You grab the camera from where he left it, snapping a picture of him seconds away from release. He moans, ropes of his seed covering your stomach as he finishes on top of you, his spend sticky and thick as it cools on your skin. He whimpers as you lean up and take his soft cock into your mouth, cleaning him up and forcing him into overstimulation. You grab the camera again, taking another picture of you with his limp dick in your mouth.

You wink before the flash goes off.

[who-knows73]

I have this like vision in my head of mike accidentally walking up on Steve and Eddie like fooling around in an alley or something and it's dark and as he's watching them in shock his eyes unfocus just slightly and black blurs with brown and suddenly he isn't looking at Steve and Eddie but Him and Will and he has to BOLT cause that thought hasn't crossed to the front of his brain just yet so he's like will????

Oh my god I love this idea, I saw it when I woke up but didn't have time to write and I've been mildly spiralling all day. Anyways, I hope this does your prompt justice :)

It was Mike's turn to rent a movie for the party and they were all coming over tomorrow. He was supposed to get it earlier but Will came over and he got distracted by his passionate rants, the way he looked so careless and content while drawing. Fuck, even the moles peppered on his skin looked so kissable, he really was too far gone for that beautiful boy. He trips over his shoelaces and it's enough to pull him out of his trance, looking around to catch his bearings he realises that he'd almost missed Family Video.

There's noise coming from the alley between stores it's getting dark and Mike can't decipher what it is from sound alone, call it morbid curiosity but he has to go see what it is. He peeks around the corner of Family Video, careful to keep his steps unheard but standing in the darkness is.. Oh god, he's not supposed to see that. Eddie is pushing Steve against the cold brick wall tearing a mostly silenced moan from Steve. He's rutting his hips into Eddie's thigh pushed roughly between his legs while Eddie kisses along his neck. He should really stop watching, it's probably far past creepy at this point but he can't. He's no longer seeing polo's and leather jackets, he's seeing plaid shirts and blue button ups. He sees bowl cuts and those hands that looked so delicate wrapped around pencil crayons ten minutes ago look far more inciting now, wrapped around body parts and pulling at Mike for more.

More, more, more. Fuck. This is perverted, he shouldn't be thinking about Will that way, he definitely shouldn't be doing it in the entrance to a dirty alley way, and he absolutely needs to leave right now because Eddie just his hands down Steve's pants. Forgetting about the tape he runs home, well, he runs about a block before he gets tired and starts walking again. He can't stop thinking about Will in scenarios, positions, and doing things he'd only even seen done in a dirty magazine Lucas showed him that he kept stashed under his bed.

By the time he gets home he's put the idea of Will kissing him in dirty places out of his mind so he can get to his room without a boner because having his mom notice that would be mortifying. He's done the pleasantries as quickly as he could and ran to his room.

The door was barely shut before the image of Will touching himself and having to cover his mouth to keep quiet came to mind. His knees quiver and his boner is back again. Locking his door he shucks his pants off and sits on his bed. He'd done this before but never to the thought of will, he'd always seemed too pure and childlike to think of in such a dirty way but he was too far gone now to care. He knew he wouldn't last long considering the frenzy he'd worked himself into on the way home, taking his dick out of his underwear he started slowly stroking himself. God, now he was the one who had to cover his mouth to keep quiet.

He'd barely been touching himself for a full minute when in his mind, Will was on his knees looking up at him through his lashes and giving mike that soft, pouty look he gets when he wants something. The reaction was instantaneous, he came harder than he probably ever had before and had to bite down on his hand to keep from moaning loudly. He laid there in his filth long enough to catch his breath and waited for the spots in his vision to go away. While he lied there, hand and shirt covered in cum, Will now back to the soft and pure boy he was before, Mike realised that he hadn't even gotten the tape.

"Fuck."

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

suspicious stains / eddie munson

masterlist

one shot

cw: fluff, cursing, female reader, reader is a cheerleader

your friend eddie asks for help on math, but you refuse until he tells you exactly what those stains on his bed are

--

after multiple days of begging, eddie was still trying to convince you to hang out and tutor him. he knew he was at risk of not graduating once again and he simply could not handle that. “please, please, please, y/n. i’ll do anything,” he begged, walking towards the bleachers with you. his hands were clasped in front of him, he was walking backwards and sort of crouched down to be more level with you. he had an overdramatized pout and the biggest puppy dog eyes you had ever seen. 

you raised your brows and sipped on your juice box. “anything?” you teased, liking messing with him even though you’d already decided you’d help him five minutes ago. 

he rolled his eyes slightly before responding. “anything i can afford, keep in mind i’m poor,” he points before harshly running into the fence surrounding the football field. “oh fuck,” he grunts as he loses his balance, causing him to flip over the fence backwards. he smacked the ground hard and laid there, moaning in pain.

“eddie!” you exclaimed, rushing around the fence and dropping to his side. 

eddie eyes were squeezed shut and his teeth were gritted. “m’okay,” he breathed, struggling since the impact caused all air to leave his lungs. 

you put your juice box down and moved your hands to pick his head up from the ground, making sure there was no blood. “you fucking dumbass,” you mumbled, feeling around underneath his thick mess of hair. he groaned as the pain coursed through him. “did you break something? where does it hurt?” you ask, hands holding his face.

his eyes flutter open, a smirk covering his face. “i quite like this position,” he says, ignoring your question. you give him a glare and he chuckles. “kidding, i think i’m fine though,” he says, feeling mainly just a dull ache in his lower back. you stare at him, examining his features to see if he was lying to you. “you gonna kiss me?” he asks, pushing your buttons. 

you move your hands from his head and stand up, seeing that he was in fact fine. you hold your hand out for him to take and he does, mainly hoisting himself up but using you for balance. “you’re so stupid sometimes,” you say, grabbing your juice and crossing your arms while eddie wipes dust off his pants. 

eddie gives you a sheepish smile. “which is why i need to be tutored,” he says, voice full of hope. 

the inside of your cheek is in between your teeth as you hold back a smile. “free weed and you come to my next game,” you offer, giving him a smile. 

he huffs, giving you a look that says ‘seriously?’ “you know basketball isn’t my scene,” he tries and you shrug, turning on your heel to head towards the bleachers and sipping your juice.

“if you can’t come watch your ‘favorite girl’ cheer, why should i help you pass?” you say sassily and eddie groans. 

he jogs to catch up, ignoring the sting in his tailbone. “fine, fine, i’ll go to a stupid basketball game,” he utters in defeat. 

you smile, climbing a few steps up the bleachers. “so, tonight?” you ask, setting yourself down and pulling your lunch box from your bag.

“tonight,” eddie confirms, sitting next to you. 

you hand him a bag of fruit, causing him to furrow his eyebrows. “you need to eat something,” you dismiss, grabbing your sandwich. “you gonna tell me how to get to your house or what?”

and that’s how you ended up walking into eddie’s bedroom while he rambled about going through the trouble to clean for you. “you sure, doesn’t look like you tried too hard?” you mumbled, looking around his very messy room. his floor was cleared for the most part, but there was a pile of dirty laundry in one corner. there was a chair next to his closet full of clothes which you prayed were clean. every surface was littered with cups, ashtrays, some drug paraphernalia, rings, or wrappers. he had a stack of magazines on his bedside table that you didn’t take more than one glance at. the only thing that was really clean was the area where his guitar hung. 

he looks at you nervously, bottom lip between his teeth as he scanned the room. he didn’t want to gross you out, but looking around his room was really not the cleanest. you looked so out of place in your perfectly pressed cheer uniform, pure white shoes, and hair that had not one strand out of place. his cheeks flushed in embarrassment at that fact that you, the girl he had a huge crush on, found his bedroom disgusting. what if you thought he was disgusting? “well, i only had a couple minutes before you got here,” he tries defending himself, feeling much smaller.

you look up to him and see his red cheek and the way he was picking at his shirt. you didn’t mean to make him feel bad. “it’s okay, eds. let’s do some math,” you give him a reassuring smile and he nods. he sits down on his bed and you go to do the same, but you can’t help the way your nose crinkles in disgust. “eddie… what are those stains?” you ask, scanning the dirty sheets that were exposed. only half his mattress showed, the other covered by blankets. 

eddie’s eyes widen as he looks down. “shit,” he mutters, standing up and grabbing his blanket to throw over the sheets.

“there’s more?!” you ask, horrified as he pulls the blanket off. eddie’s breathing increases and he throws the blanket on his mattress, scrambling to cover his sheet completely. 

he tucks the blanket between the mattress and wall before getting off and pulling it over the edges. “what? no, i-i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he chuckles nervously, avoiding looking at you because he knew your face would be covered in disgust. “let’s just, let’s study,” he mutters, sitting down and grabbing his backpack. 

you look from him to his bed, mind reeling. “eddie, i’m not trying to be mean, but i am not sitting on that bed until you tell me what those stains are,” you say seriously, staring at him as ideas of what they may be running through your mind.

eddie closes his eyes, putting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his temples. “i uh…” he starts, moving his fist in front of his mouth and leaning on it. “i don’t know what those stains are,” he says, eyes flicking up to you nervously. 

“bullshit,” you say immediately, causing him to close his eyes. why couldn’t you just believe him?

he lets out a breath before looking up to you again. “look, can’t you just sit? they’re covered you don’t have to worry about it,” he suggests, gesturing to his bed and his voice raising. 

you narrow your eyes. “if they’re on your sheets they’re on your blankets. i just can’t see them because it’s black,” you say pointedly. 

“and red!” he defends, even though it means nothing.

you stare at him, narrowing your eyes as he gulps nervously. “do you piss the bed?” you finally ask, looking at him accusingly.

he gasps, “y/n?!” your gaze doesn’t falter as your brows raise. “do i piss the- no. fucking hell, i’m not four!” he scoffs, looking away from him. 

a smile spreads across your face. he was so lying. “you do!” you cackle and eddie looks at you with wide eyes. “you’re twenty and you piss the bed,” you say, laughing. 

eddie frowns, how the hell did you know he was lying. “it was one time,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. this makes you snort and eddie looks at you with a sad and defensive expression. “i was drunk!” he tries defending and you give him a smile. 

“then what are the others, because you have like… a lot,” you push and eddie rolls his eyes and turns from you.

you tap your foot, waiting for him to answer. “well,” he starts, glancing up at you to see you still looking at him. “one of them is soup,” he whispers. 

your jaw drops and then more giggles are falling from your mouth. “soup? what the fuck?” you laugh, causing his cheeks to turn even redder. 

he mumbles something but you don’t hear it. you walk closer to him and place your hand on his shoulder. you cock your head to the side, giving him a confused look. he sighs, closing his eyes before talking. “i like soup, so i made it. but i forgot it was on my bed and…” he trails.

you look at him expectantly. “and?” you push.

“and then i jumped on it pretending to crowd surf,” he spoke quickly, his eyes still closed. 

you giggle and grab the sides of his face. that causes his eyes to pop open. “now that, that one is cute,” you say and eddie smiles shyly, his neck burning with embarrassment. 

he knows you’ll keep pushing, because so far he’s only accounted for two of the many stains. he grunts and tries to look away from you. but that’s kind of hard when you’re still cradling his face like a new born child. “okay um, when i sleep, or all the time i guess…” he recalls, looking up to the ceiling as he talks. “i get really sweaty… but i can’t sleep without a blanket… therefore, sweat stains,” he explains bashfully. 

“ick, munson,” you say, pushing his face to the side before dropping it. “you should get that checked out, or i don’t know, wash your sheets,” you say, thumping him on the head. 

he rolls his eyes before leaning back on his arms. and woah… he looked hot. “let’s be real, y/n, who actually washes their sheets?” he asks with raised brows causing your face to cover with disgust. 

“everyone, eddie. everyone,” you say and he just scoffs, not believing you. but maybe he should really start washing his sheets. the silence between you causes a smirk to cover your face. eddie looks at you apprehensively. “are the small ones cu-,”

eddie launches forward, grabbing you by the waist and flinging you on his bed all while screaming. literally screaming. “no, no, absolutely not, shut the fuck up,” he yells, pining you down and covering your mouth as you burst out laughing. his entire face is on fire as you uncontrollably laugh against his mouth, his body hovering over you. you grab his wrist, trying to pull it away but he shakes his head. 

you lick his palm, causing him to bring his hand back and wipe it against his shirt. “oh my god,” you giggle and eddie glares at you. 

“bitch,” he mutters, studying you as you calm down from your laughing fit. 

your eyes snap wide and you shove him. “ew, ew, i’m on your fucking sweaty ass bed,” you yelp, jumping into his lap. eddie grunts, his tailbone hurting once again but out of instinct he wraps his arms tightly around you. 

the two of you freeze as you realize what position you’re in. eddie smirks, pushing away his nerves. “that’s okay, i think i like you here better anyway,” he flirts and you roll your eyes fondly. you smack him upside the head causing him to groan in pain.

“dumbass,” you mutter, watching as he rubs at the back of his head for the second time that day. 

[knucklehoagie]

hideout after the hideout (18+)

18+ MINORS DNI;literal porn tw for alcohol, unprotected sex (you can imagine there were condoms if you want though its not explicitly stated)

summary: met eddie after a show at the hideout and you guys get it on

----------------------------------------------------------------

at this point you have no idea what time it is. what started out as flirting with a cute guitarist you saw at the bar turned into stealing some beers while the gas station attendant wasn't looking, to both of you stumbling back to his place. you wouldn't lie and say it wasn't your intention to follow eddie home, watching his lips move along to the lead singer's voice as his fingers slid across guitar strings hypnotized you and you had already had one or two drinks while they played, just enough liquid courage to approach him backstage.

now, with an empty six-pack scattered around the floor of his room, the pair of you sat on his bed with his arm behind your back and the other slowly tracing the top ridge of your pants with his fingers, back and forth. eddie's lips gingerly press against yours, the small teasing kisses you had started with grew more intense as your bodies managed to creep ever closer to each other. he hesitates as his fingers find your zipper, and you look at his eyes. they appeared even darker with an almost primal desire. you feel your face get hot, realizing his intentions. your heart pounds in your chest but your head feels light with lust, adrenaline, and alcohol, and he unfastens the button to your jeans.

he leans in gently for another kiss, but this one presses you back into the pillows behind you, unable to mask his excitement. he pulls the zipper down until it stops moving, dragging his fingertips slowly back up to the edge of your underwear. eddie suddenly seems to hesitate and you look at him, eyelids heavy, and those beautiful dark eyes gaze back down into yours. he eagerly searches your expression for consent and you glance down at his mouth, slightly parted, breathless, you cant help but push your lips against him again. he immediately moves his hand down the front of your panties. his rings take their turn snagging on the elastic band of your underwear but he manages to slide his way into you, slipping into your velvety pussy. as he feels how wet you are his kisses become even deeper. he moans softly as he kisses you, and the sound makes your head spin. his fingers move up and begin to gently massage your clit. a sound escapes your lips, you open your eyes enough to see him smiling, biting his lip as he moves his fingertips ever so slightly faster. "does that feel good?" he says, hardly louder than a whisper, his voice shakes slightly with excitement and you feel your head spin again. you can't manage an answer but the way your breathing quickens seems to be an answer in itself. his expression suddenly gets more serious. he examines your eyes, soft and determined, and you feel yourself slipping into ecstasy. the repetitive motions of his fingers on you is maddening and your hips gently thrust against his hand without you realizing. "oh, my god," you breathe, "eddie...." he watches your mouth as you say his name, his expression drenched with desire, he watches your face contort with pleasure but doesn't stop his hands. you can feel how fucking hard he is against your thigh, he can't help push himself against you...you slide your hand along the inside of his thigh and press your palm against his jeans. you know how much he wants to be inside you. the idea of turning him on so much he can barely contain himself brings another moan up from your chest between quick and gentle breaths. his fingers slow slightly as he brings his lips to your neck, gently kissing up to your ear, the ends of his tousled hair tickling the perimeter of your features. you can see a smile sneak onto his face from the corner of your eye, his lips reach your ear you begin to feel that familiar warm sensation begin to pull from the tips of your toes. you can't help but whine as the heat of his body pulls you closer to orgasm and he watches you fight it, not wanting the euphoric sensation to stop so soon. "you are so beautiful," he whispers against your skin, but your body no longer keeps its composure. his low, soothing voice, almost a growl, pulled you over the edge all at once. "oh shit--" you almost snap, the ecstasy builds to an unbearable level, and you feel your body start to numb from the inside out, "eddie, oh fuck.." his fingers continue working as the orgasm spreads itself through each muscle, each layer of tissue, every single neuron, and you can only moan and whine through the waves as his dark eyes study your body beneath him. all at once he lifts his fingers and every sensation ceases like a plug was pulled from a socket. you are left absolutely breathless in his arms and he grins smugly, sighing into your hair.

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

Spilt Sodas and Motels: Part 2

Ship: Eddie Munson/Reader Warning: drug use (weed) Rating: teen Tags: touch-starved Eddie, cuddling in your underwear, pre-canon Word Count: 2,435 Summary:

This is just the day after the first fic.

Morning came too soon for your taste. Apparently, Eddie shared your opinion as he was curled around you, leg slung over your waist and head pressed against your chest. There’s a dopey smile on his face as he faces the wall away from the window that you’d forgotten to close the curtains to. 

A loud bang at your door breaks your drowsy state as Bako’s voice rings through the motel room: “Come on! We gotta get back!”

“We’ll be out in five!��� you shout back as Eddie stirs. 

Eddie grumbles, forcing himself up and rubbing his eyes. His hair is an absolute mess, frizzy and knotted. The sheets pool around his hips and despite the absolutely disgusting environment, he looks like an angel, yawning only to tip back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. You poke his stomach with a big smile and he squeaks in protest, grabbing your wrist. In a split second, he’s pulled you down over top of him, pressing your lips together with his hand tangled in your hair. He tastes like morning breath and stale mint. Despite the taste, you melt into the kiss, smiling against his lips until you pull away.

“We have to get up,” you remind him.

“Just wanted to kiss you. Is that a crime?” he challenges with a playful smile. 

“When the guys are waiting for us? Yes. Get dressed, we’ve got Hellfire, remember?” you point out, chucking his pants at him as you go to grab your clothes from the bathroom.

He continues to steal kisses from you as the two of you get dressed, insisting on you wearing his shirt to get home rather than your sticky one. You try and argue what he’ll wear, but he simply does up the buttons on his vest and grins at you. You roll your eyes, heading for the door only for him to grab your hand again and pull you back, a hasty kiss pressed against your lips.

“What was that for?” you chuckle, staring up at him.

“Just can’t believe you’re okay with that. Okay with me,” he admits, beaming down at you.

“I’m more than okay with it, Eddie. I’ve waited so long for you to do that,” you whisper, brushing a strand of hair from his face. 

“Good, ‘cause I’m going to do it every chance I get. I’m going to make all the teachers hate us, and every last one of our friends fake gag,” he states with a wild grin, pressing his lips against yours quickly.

“Is that a promise?” you ask, knowing you have to get going. 

“More than a promise. It’s a warning that you’re going to be known as the person who's dating Eddie the freak Munson,” he snickers, kissing the tip of your nose. 

“Dating?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re okay with that,” he stammers, nervously avoiding your gaze.

You pull him closer, pressing your lips against his and revelling in how he melts into you.

“I’m more than okay with it.”

The guys give the two of you weird looks when you stumble out of the motel room. You know they know the moment Eddie leans over and kisses you when the two of you get in the van. Bako gives you a congratulatory nod before turning the music up while Eddie speeds off.

He drops the rest of the band off at their houses, reminding them that Hellfire was in two hours. Then he takes you back to yours, making a point of getting out of the van with you. He slings his arm around your waist, leaning on you with a broad grin as he walks you to your front door, heading inside with you. Thankfully your parents are both at work so you let him follow you upstairs to get a change of clothes. 

“Are you just going to stand there, Munson?” you laugh as he stares at your record player. 

“Giving you privacy. Or should I turn around and watch you change? Would you prefer that?” he laughs, looking through your record collection. 

“You can if you want, I’m almost done so you missed the show,” you say as you tug on your shirt and pull the belt from your dirty pants. 

“Even better, ‘cause we got a game to get to and I don’t want to be distracted the whole time. Afterwards, maybe we can swing by my place instead of coming back here… if you want?” he suggests, finally turning back around. 

“That sounds good to me. Just let me leave a note for my parents before we go,” you agree, handing him his dirty shirt.

He nods his head, following you out of the room and waiting by the door for you to write a note to your parents. You tell them that Hellfire was going to run late and you were going to stay over at Eddie’s house rather than making him drive extra when exhausted. They knew how awful his driving was, to begin with, and would at least understand until you got back. You may be old enough to go off and not need to leave a note for them, but you knew they still worried. 

“All good?” he asks as you emerge from the kitchen.

“Should be. Come on, let’s go kick some cultist ass!” you cheer, snatching his hand before he can do it first. 

He beams at you the whole drive back to his trailer to grab his DnD books and prep notes, and then all the way back to school. Thankfully you still had an hour before the session truly started so the two of you had peace and quiet to set up the table until Dustin got there thirty minutes early per usual. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, or maybe he does as his ankle stays hooked around yours until he starts the session. 

There’s nothing that compares to the demon that possesses Eddie when he runs a game. He’s standing from his seat barely fifteen minutes in, detailing the adventures of the last session and setting the dramatic scene for the current one. He’s grinning from ear to ear as the group of you delve through the depths of the dungeons, looting rooms and battling small encounters, all while asking the current NPC guiding the party (Lady Drew) various questions to uncover the mysteries hidden in the walls. 

The session takes six hours with two washroom breaks, both of which have Eddie mysteriously appearing in the hallway when you’re walking back and end with your back pressed against the cold brick of the school, his lips on yours. During the session, he’s calm and loose with a buzzing smile. However, out of session, it’s as if someone yanked the energy from his chest and he needs reassurance that you’re truly having fun. Something you’re more than happy to provide for him, running your hands through his hair and brushing your thumb against his cheek. He pulls you closer, one hand tangled in your hair and the other wrapped around your back. 

The session ends with a bang; leaving the party in suspense as Eddie revealed that Lady Drew had been cursed by the mysterious BBEG. While everyone leaves together, ranting and raving about the cliffhanger, you help Eddie pack up the session, hands brushing against each other every once and a while. Each time it felt as if the world stood still to let you lean forwards and kiss his cheek. He smiles all the way to his trailer, stuffing his equipment away under his bed.

You watch him stand up and stare at the space he’d just filled, freezing for a moment. With a tentative “Eddy?” you place a hand on his back and step to his side. He chuckles lightly, still staring down at the box under his bed.

“Sorry, get like this after session no matter how good it was. Not sure what to call it but I never quite feel like I did a good job like you guys didn’t have fun,” he admits, refusing to look you in the eyes. 

“You did wonderfully. Everything was perfect, even the things you thought weren’t. I wouldn’t have changed anything except the fact that I wanted to play longer. Every time. We always want more, Eddie,” you assure him, stepping in front of him. You offer your arms to him and he accepts the offer, pulling you close. 

“Thanks. Sorry, my brains kinda shit sometimes,” he mumbles, refusing to let you go. 

“That’s okay,” you shrug, running your fingers through his hair. They get stuck easily, hitting against knots. “Do you have a comb?”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to -”

You lean back in his arms to look him in the eyes, fixing him with a stern look.

“No. We’re not doing that. I know I don’t have to but I want to. Consider it my way of rewarding you after such an awesome session,” you insist.

“Second drawer in the bathroom,” he admits, letting you go.

“I’ll be right back,” you promise, kissing his cheek. You can feel his smile form under your lips.

The comb is easy enough to find. Eddie, on the other hand, isn’t. He’s left his room and he’s not in the rest of the trailer so you follow the clicking of a lighter outside until you spot him on the roof. Climbing up the ladder you find him lighting his bong, staring out across the night sky.

“Hey, any particular reason you’re up here? Do you not want me to comb your hair?” you question, sitting down next to him.

“What? No, no I do, it’s just… I usually sit up here after games when I need to calm my nerves. Your reassurance helps, but sometimes I just need a little more. Especially since…” he waves his hand, shaking his head as he sets his bong down.

“About what?” you press, arching an eyebrow. 

He takes a deep breath, glancing at you before quickly returning his gaze to the stars. 

“I don’t really let people touch my hair. Ever.”

“I don’t have to do this if you aren’t comfortable with it.” “I really want you to. Badly. It’s just… go slow. Please.”

“Of course,” you whisper, reaching for his hand. He takes yours, squeezing it before letting it go. 

You’re very careful as you sit behind him and run the comb through his hair, catching the first knot. He flinches as if he’s been shot, so you pause and give him time to adjust. The next time you catch the knot he doesn’t jump as badly, yet you still go slow, working each knot out with the patience of a saint. 

He’s taken several more hits of his bong and offered you a few by the time you’ve worked out all the knots. 

“There, all done,” you declare when you can run the comb through his hair without catching on anything. 

He sighs, leaning back until his head’s in your lap. You catch the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he reaches up, cupping your face in his hand awkwardly just to stare at you. Even if it’s your most unflattering angle he’s smiling and studying each detail with a reverent gaze.

“What?” you laugh nervously.

“You’re like an embodiment of the stars. Sorta like a few of ‘em just crashed into each other and became you. A bright light in the middle of nowhere… what did I do to deserve you?”

“You simply existed, Eddie. You’ve been real, authentic; yourself. That’s all you needed to do,” you hum, kissing his palm. 

He beams up at you, letting his hand fall to his chest as he watches the stars. You lean back on your hands and watch them with him.

You have no idea how much time passes before either of you speaks. It’s simply the two of you and the stars. You’re content in just that. Nothing more. You could stay up here for eons if it meant Eddie would stay up here with you.

“This is not how I thought the night was going to go,” Eddie admits with a light chuckle. 

“Oh? How did you think it was going to go?” you question, looking down at him.

“I don’t know, just thought it would be a whirlwind of sweat and sex. This is… I kinda prefer this. It’s gentle. I don’t think I’ve ever had gentle,” he says as you drag your fingers through his bangs.

“We have all the time in the world to become a whirlwind. I like this too, though I think I’d prefer it without cold metal under my ass.”

“You know… I just so happen to have a bed nearby. It doesn’t come with stars but it does come with cuddles,” he proposes, grinning. “If you want to, that is.”

“Cuddles sound wonderful,” you agree.

You miss his head in your lap the moment he sits up, but it's an acceptable loss in exchange for his bed. He shucks off his clothes until he’s in Star Wars-themed boxers, and you can’t help but laugh.

“What do you mean we don’t have the stars down here? We’ve got them right here,” you point out, snapping the band of his underwear. 

He shakes his head with a dramatic smile. 

“I’m full of surprises.”

“Clearly,” you laugh as you toss the last of your clothes into the corner of the room. 

He leans forwards and slots his lips with yours as he reaches over you to shut the door. You push him back to encourage him to sit down on the bed, and he pulls you down with him. Landing on top of him, the two of you laugh as the kiss is broken apart unintentionally. He wraps his arms around you, pulling the covers over your back, content to let you lay partially on his chest with your leg over his waist. 

“I don’t know how I possibly lived before I could pull you into bed with me,” he says, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Neither do I. This makes me feel… strangely safe,” you decide, snuggling closer to him.

“Glad I can help,” he laughs. “But, yeah, I know what you mean. The whole safe part. I think it’s ‘cause you’re here with me and I know you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Mhm, I’m not going nowhere. I’ll be here tomorrow for the rest of time,” you promise, resting your face in the crook of his neck.

“I hope so,” he murmurs, kissing the top of your head.