#i can't draw his tattoo for SHIT

[heavensofficialfloutist]

was supposed to be a simple drawing to make up for missing Leona's bday but noooo i had to make pretty lighting

[bleeding-hart]

some sketches

based on @theicarusconstellation's writing

I keep thinking of details I left out and stuff I need to fix but if I let myself do that I'm going to go insane so we're leaving it at this

Also some Sirius because they're a fucking king and we love them (I very strongly hc them as genderqueer and using any pronouns, but specifically he/they/she/it)

The dress was a bit of a failure but hey it looks like fabric at least I think maybe

[disaster-vampire]

ngl i'm getting real tired of male tattoo artists mansplaining tattooing to me the moment it comes up that i'd like to pursue it as a profession and trying to dissuade me with 30 minute rants filled with scary words. then proceeding to fuck up the simplest design i could draw for them.

[casekt]

So I can remind myself, I want to draw tomorrow, with pastels or charcoal or something

[carolmunson]

the cars that go boom | (daddydom!sadist!eddie)

this fic isn't related to the title song reference at all, it's just stuck in my head. needed to get this out of my drafts so here's some ddlg themed sadist eddie that's been sitting in my draft folder for fucking ever and i'm sick of looking at it. tw: 18+ mdni ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, eddie being all over a cocky shit bag hottie who likes control but it's consensual, use of a vibrating toy. lots of allusions to other sex.

You watch him get out of the bathroom after his shower, tattoos stretched taught over softly cut muscles. You almost drool. He tried something new with you this week, an orgasm ban -- nearly a sex ban -- in fact, he didn't even want you to see his dick. And much like he always does when he finds a new way to torture you; he was feeling really pleased with himself about it.

'That's more than you deserve,' he hissed at you Monday night while you knelt obediently between his legs. He pet your hair while you watched TV and he jerked himself off, you were not allowed to turn around until he was finished. You pouted all night, and when it happened the next day you started pouting all week. But, the week was over, which meant your punishment was done. You'd spent all day getting ready, a long shower, smooth skin, body butter, his favorite perfume, everything you could do to feel perfect for him. You cleaned the trailer and made dinner, you kissed him when he got in the door to which he blushed and smiled.

'Hi beautiful,' he greeted you so gently, 'I missed you today.'

You watch him dress now, hair dripping while he tugs on a pair of grey sweatpants and a ratty cut off Iron Maiden t-shirt. You sulk a little. Those aren't normally the clothes he'd put on if he wanted to take you to bed, but you don't say anything just yet.

He goes to the kitchen table with a composition notebook and a collection of pens and markers, opening the beat up pages to what you can only assume is a new campaign, a new drawing of a map. You walk over while he mulls over it, adding new territory, scribbling in new lore. You let your hands slide over his shoulders.

"Hi baby," you say sweetly.

"Hi," he responds, focused on his notebook. Your hands slide forward, onto his chest, your face leaning down to his, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whatcha doing?" you ask innocently.

"Workin' on a campaign," he responds, "We're gonna meet up on Wednesday night so I want it to be semi together."

"Okay," you nod, you run your fingers gently over his scalp, giving him a soft scratch. He keens into the touch, shoulders relaxing while he rolls his head back. You press your luck, letting your fingertip trace over the curve of his ear.

"Hey," he warns softly, "I'm tryin' to focus, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize, but he can't see your grin. Your fingers continue to wander, giving him a sweet shoulder massage while he reads over his story. A quiet 'thank you honey', falls from his full lips while you work out the knots. You press your luck again, trailing your finger down the line of his neck that's the most sensitive to your tongue and touch. Eddie's shoulders tense and he sits up straight, turning to you with a sour pull at his full lips.

"Do you need something?" he asks pointedly. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, "Do you need some attention?"

You nod and he grins, pulling the other kitchen chair over, "Come sit next to me then, you can help."

You roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he bites his tongue at the offense, happy to get to spend some time with you like this. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek while you watch him work.

You barely 'help', just sitting there while he crosses things out and re-writes them. While he flips back ten pages and then forward twenty, grabbing a red pencil and putting it down for a blue pencil then picking the red back up and so on. You get restless watching him work, so you get up and grab each of you a beer. Another sugar sweet, 'thaaank you baby,' pours from him, this time deep and focused, dark and syrupy. Molasses tongue. It goes right to your thighs.

You press your luck a third time, scooting close to him, letting your hand smooth over his covered thigh and further up, skimming over his cock that was perfectly outlined in his sweats. He let's out a frustrated sigh when he takes your hand away from his crotch, gently putting it on your lap when he looks at you sternly.

"Daddy's busy, baby," his eyes look down at you, his dominance brewing under angry brows, "Why don't you go play by yourself in another room, hm?"

He turns his attention back to the campaign notebook, while you throb from being scolded. The humilation pools through you when he chastises you, eyes lingering on you while you continue to sit there. After a beat, you get up to walk to the bedroom hearing his voice as you do.

"Good girl," he teases, "Are you being a good listener?"

You look back and see his grin while he leans back in the kitchen chair, crossing his arms. His legs are spread wide under the table, cool authority flowing off of him.

"Are you?" he asks again, a smirk cracking his face as if to ask, 'Does this embarrass you?' It does, it's humiliating.

"I'm a very good listener," you respond quietly, heart dropping in your chest.

His brows raise, waiting for you to add more to the sentence. You let out an aggravated huff through your nose, crossing your arms.

"I'm a very good listener, daddy," you repeat.

"There we go," he smiles cruelly, "Go have fun, sweetheart."

'Have fun? HAVE FUN?' you think to yourself while you go to the bedroom and shut the door with a firm click, 'Fine! I'll have fun without you then! See if I care!' It's not fair that you've been quite literally begging to be fucked for seven straight days, but to go straight into teasing you like this? The type of dominance that makes you feel the most -- god -- embarrassed? Degraded? You'd rather gag on fingers and have him wipe your spit on your face. You'd rather him make you lick someone's cum out of his ass, literally anything but this.

With a huff you open Eddie's top dresser drawer and grab the Hitatchi he bought you as an anniversary gift last year. Hastily, you plug it in behind the bedside table before climbing on to bed, shimmying your jeans off and tossing them to the floor.

Your legs spread, bent at the knees, turning the toy on low and slowly lowering it onto your covered core. The hum is quiet, barely a tremble in the head of the wand when it meets the lacy fabric of your panties. A soft gasp escapes you at the feeling, it had felt like years since you'd been touched there. You move the toy up and down slowly, teasing yourself, little puffs of breath escaping you as you do.

With a click, the buzz intensifies, sliding the head upward to settle softly on your clothed clit. You whimper while your hips start to move slowly against the vibrations, the whirr of the toy filling your ears while your eyes shut. You keep yourself like this for a little, enjoying the slow sensation, the mild tease. You feel it start, like the hook looping into the first car of a roller coaster train, the first tug when the attendant hits 'go'.

“Huh!” you gasp out breathy while your hips twitch. Your lower lips start to swell against the gusset of your bottoms, slick building between them. A slow start. You savor it, a small smile pulling at your lips.

“Look so pretty like that, baby,” you hear his voice and gasp, tossing the toy next to you and snapping your legs shut. He smirks, a devilish chuckle bubbles from his chest, “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt. I said you could go play by yourself, and look at you…”

His voice raises in a lilt, while he sits on the bed. He passes you the wand and smiles, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

“Go on,” he says with a nod, “Show daddy how you were playing.” You lean back on the pillows, opening up your legs again slowly. He glances between them, eyes flitting down to your mound briefly before meeting your eyes again, he subconciously licks his lips. You keep your legs up and bent up against your chest so he has a view, puffing out a soft sigh when you click the toy on again. He looks at you with a hazy gleam in his brown eyes, nodding slowly at you to remind you of his permission. You run it up your thigh before settling it back down on the center of your slit, letting the vibrations pulse over your entire core. "Hm," you hum out softly as your brows pinch together in a tilt. "Aw, yeah?" he coos out, "Does that feel good?"

"Mhm," you whine, lower lip tucked tight between your teeth. Yuo swallow when he reaches his hand out, smoothing over the soft plushness of your inner thigh. He squeezes, grinning when you let out a soft grunt with a twitch of your hips.

"You've been so patient this week," he purrs, "Such a good girl. Isn't that right?"

You nod hurriedly, watching his hand slide up your thigh, his index finger tracing up the hem of your underwear. It's a smooth hand off, watching his rings gleam in the bedside lamp when it wraps around the handle, both of your hands falling flat by your head. Your palms face the ceiling, matching your eyes when he turns up the vibrations. "Isn't that right, baby doll?" he asks, adding a gentle pressure up against you. Your pussy strains against the fabric the more excited you get, back already in a soft arch while you push into the mattress. "Y-yes, sir," you manage to mutter out. "No, no, that's not who I am tonight," he admonishes, still in a soft and steady voice, almost sweet -- like you don't understand anything. He takes the toy away; making you whimper, leaning up on your elbows behind you.

"You know how to address me," he says, a serpentine confidence flashing in his face, "You're a big girl, aren't you? Or do I have to teach you?"

You let out a shrill groan, head leaning back on it's hinge while your legs kick out in frustration in front of you.

"Hmm, of course," he says, getting up off the bed to pull off his shirt and slide off his sweats. His boxer briefs hug him in tight but it's there and it's missed you more than you've missed it this week, "You act like this and you don't think I should treat you like a little girl?"

You look up at him, bitten lower lip jutting out with a sheen of spit.

"So pouty, too," he coos, crawling onto the mattress between your parted thighs. He sits up on his knees, tall over your frame splayed out on the bed. He lifts one of your legs, pressing it flush against his chest so your foot rests by his ear.

"M'not pouty," you say back while his other hand reaches over your cheek with a light back before splaying over your jaw. His thumb brushes your lower lip before pressing on the dip at the center.

"Open," he instructs, you don't even think to stop yourself. You suck his thumb slow, letting your tongue lave over the length all the while. Spit fills your mouth, wet and eager, already inching at the corners of your mouth. You might as well drool. "Very good," he purrs again from the back of his throat, "Someone learned her lesson this week."

You nod, taking his wrist to steady his hand while you take more initiative with his thumb, implying what you really want.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," he says lowly, taking his thumb from your mouth. He wipes the spit on your cheek before reaching back over to the wand, keeping your legs spread and holding thight to your thigh against his front.

Your hips shimmy when he holds the toy back in place, thumb running over the power button but not pressing down.

"Hey," he says, commanding, "Look up at me."

Your gaze snaps to his in unadulterated obedience, his distaste for even having to ask evident on his face, "You know better."

"I know better," you nod while you say it, confirming his words. "You do not ever stop looking at me," he glowers down.

"I don't ever stop looking at you," you repeat back, needy for whatever he has for you next. Your hips shimmy again, you try to stifle the whine in your throat but it comes out just the same; desperate and childish. "Oh, baby, do you need help asking for what you want?" his voice lilts, "Does daddy have to guess?" "Turn it on, please," you whisper. "Please what, princess?" he asks, voice mocking with a knowing stare, leaning down so your knee hooks over his shoulder. His chest hovers at an angle over you, chain and guitar pick dangling over your lips. "Please what?" he asks again. "Please daddy," you whine, "Please turn the toy on." "Look at those manners," he grins wickedly, "My sweet girl."

He turns it on, speed setting high with the flick of his finger. It rumbles loud, thighs already twitching while runs it back and forth over your sensitive clit. "Fuck," you gasp out, eyes rolling, "Oh my god, right there." "That's not a very nice word, sweetheart," he chastises, "What do you say?"

"S-sorr-Oh! Oh my god! Oh! -- Sorry, d--shitshitshitshit-- sorrysorrysorrysorry," you nearly cry when the cord in your belly snaps, gushing into the fabric against your core. He greedily keeps your thighs apart, watching while you come undone under him. You gulp when he doesn't take the toy away, your sensitive nerves screaming at the buzz of the vibrator. Your hips writhe and jump, trying to pull away from it all the while he's shaking his head no.

"Gotta hear that apology, princess," he murmurs, "Say sorry."

"Sorry daddy, I'm sorry," you babble out, "M'sorry I'll be so good, I'll be good." He let's out a satisfied hum, clicking the wand off and placing it gingerly on the bedside table. His hand lingers for a moment to make sure it doesn't roll off and then finds it's footing back on the mattress.

"You'll be so good?"

"So good," you nod when he settles back between your thighs. He crawls forward like a cat, pressing his hips slowly up against yours. You sigh needily when you feel the drag of his erection against you, whimpering when you see it affect him the same way. "Shit, baby," he smirks, trying not to break character while he grinds against you a second time, "Fuck." "That's not a very nice word," you tease back, looking up at him through heavy lids. "Well I'm not a very nice guy, am I?" he muses, leaning in to kiss you deeply before one hand reaches down to tug at your panties. You giggle, a sound that sends him reeling when he's in this kind of mood. "You're very nice," you whisper against his lips. "Hmm, yeah?" he growls, noses brushing while he lingers above you. He offers another roll of his hips right before he gets to work on pulling your panties down slipping them off of each ankle with ease. Undressed completely below him, he admires you. He hadn't seen you like this all week, finally getting what you've been waiting for. So patient, so willing. He runs his hands from shoulders to hips, greedy fingers digging into you rough and tumble, grabbing and kneading with disregard to comfort. "Daddy," you start, getting his attention in a voice that makes him ready to serve accordingly, "Fuck me."

A smirk splits his face, it's cute when you ask so brazenly when you're busy looking at him with those sad puppy eyes. "Please, fuck me," you reiterate while he readies himself, boxer briefs peeling off to leave him bare. Your soft gasp at the release of his cock is more of an ego trip than he expected to have, never realizing how much you truly need him like this. How you can really only get off to him, how you've submitted in every way you could. "Daddy's gonna fuck you, sweetheart," he says steadily, climbing back ontop of you, pressing your thighs to your chest, "God, m'gonna fuck you real good."

He leans in for another hungry kiss, ownership laced in his lips. When he breaks away you catch his chin in your hand, an action that makes him bristle, jaw clenching at your attempt at control.

"Fuck me like I've been bad," you request in a timbre so low he nearly melts at the sound, "Fuck me how you fuck bad girls."

He's never flipped you over so fast in your life.

[sunnebeam]

"i was hoping i wouldn't have to resort to this."

A 'PERKS OF BEING A HOUSEHUSBAND' DRABBLE.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

plot: the (mis)adventures of retired gangster min yoongi as he leaves behind the life of the mafia and navigates the way of the househusband.

warnings: the way of the househusband au, marriage au, crack, domesticity, yoongi unintentionally scares people

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: go on tell me d-day!yoongi isn't tatsu I DARE YOU 😤 btw u don't need to watch the way of the househusband before reading this, but i swear u won't regret it if u do lol it's so funny (and it gives great visuals for this fic!). anyways, enjoy!! i'd love to hear ur thoughts so drop by my askbox and let's chat :)

Water drips down his neck as he washes his face. Droplets fall down his tattooed back, tracing the meticulous lines and bold colors that contrast his pale skin.

After rinsing and drying off, he dons on his outfit for the day – a fitted, white, short-sleeved shirt that shows off the intricate tattoos on both his arms and some black sweatpants – and puts on his signature apron – a beige, cotton apron with a drawing of his brown poodle on the front. Said poodle is staring at him from the bathroom door as he takes one last look at the mirror.

An old, bumpy scar runs down his right eye.

"Perfect," he says to himself before heading to the kitchen with his dog following right behind.

Min Yoongi never used to wake up this early. But these days, he wakes up bright and early at six o'clock because he has an important assignment.

"What do you think, Holly? Too big?"

The poodle barks in response, and taking its opinion into consideration, Yoongi adjusts his gimbap slices accordingly, making them a tad bit smaller and just the perfect size for your lunchbox.

"Shit!"

The door to your shared bedroom opens and you run out, already dressed in your corporate attire. You run to the kitchen where your husband is and get a huge glass of water.

"I'm late!" you screech, all while gulping down the whole glass.

"But you still have a few hours," he points out in confusion.

"I forgot I have an early meeting!" you explain in a hurry, putting on your heels before giving your husband a big smooch on the lips and blowing Holly a kiss. "Sorry, Yoonie! I'll see you later!"

And you're out the door.

Yoongi blinks for a few moments before shaking his head. He's chuckling in amusement at your mishap, but if any outsider hears his laughter, it just sounds a bit manic.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me, Holly."

Holly barks.

"Huh? What was that?"

Holly barks.

Yoongi stares at the poodle, then at your Hello Kitty lunchbox he meticulously prepared, then back at the poodle.

"She forgot her lunchbox?"

Holly barks.

"Fuck."

Yoongi snaps into action, securing the lunchbox and putting it inside a Hello Kitty cloth bag before running out the door with his cute apron still on. He mounts his bicycle and speeds towards your office – which, if he was driving a car, would have broken numerous traffic regulations but luckily he isn't a stranger to breaking a law or two.

He's almost to your office. He's halfway there.

But unfortunately, there's a bit of a situation.

"What's your occupation, sir?"

The two police officers stare at him hesitantly after flagging him down for pedalling too fast with his bicycle. They're debating on giving him a ticket but then Yoongi answers.

"Househusband."

They stare at him.

"What?"

Yoongi sighs. At this rate, he won't be able to catch you before you clock in.

"Wait a second," one of the officers says, eyeing the tattoos peeking out from Yoongi's shirt and the big scar on his eye. "Are you..."

They stare at the name on the ticket. Min Yoongi.

"...Agust D?"

No way, the other officer thinks. There's a rumor about an infamous gangster called Agust D who used to slaughter his enemies with his own two hands. This guy can't be him. Right? Right?!

They hold a breath when Yoongi reaches into his pocket.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," he murmurs.

"Wait, sir. There's no need for violence—"

"Here," Yoongi shuts them up by thrusting one of his most precious possessions.

A gift card for discounts at the local grocery store.

The police officers stare at the gift card, bewildered.

"As much as it pains me to let go of this," Yoongi continues, "take it. Now, I have to go."

And he pedals away, leaving behind one gift card and two very confused cops.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[steddiealltheway]

The Danger in Romanticizing (Ao3 Link)

"Steve, I'm serious, you might absolutely hate Eddie." 

Steve sighs and relaxes against their couch. This is the third time today that Robin has given him this warning. "I'm not going to terrorize him to the point that Chrissy breaks up with you." 

Robin raises her eyebrows at him as if he would seriously do it. "You don't know Eddie though. He's... he's someone you would've hated in high school. He's loud, nerdy, dramatic, and he was in a band." 

"Robin, he sounds just like you." 

Robin's jaw drops. "Take it back." 

Steve laughs, "Come on, he sounds great. I don't know why you and Chrissy think we'll hate each other." 

"He was bullied in high school by jocks just like you, but he threw it right back at them," Robin says while pacing. "And Eddie to Chrissy is the equivalent of you to me - her platonic soulmate. If you two don't like each other, then I don't know what we'll do." 

Steve stands up and grabs Robin by the shoulders, stopping her pacing. "It's going to be fine. If anything, we'll just make polite small talk any time we see each other. As far as I'm concerned, you like him and he's kind to you, so he's good on my list." 

Robin nods but she doesn't look convinced. 

"I just can't believe that you two waited a month to introduce us." 

Robin sighs and walks away from him, brushing off imaginary dust on their couch and chair. "It'll be easier to explain when you meet him." 

"When are they supposed to get here again?" 

Robin glances at the clock and goes pale. The doorbell rings and Steve feels a sudden rush of nerves. He doesn't know why he's so nervous to meet this man. He really likes Chrissy, and he can't imagine her being best friends with someone he wouldn't like. 

Robin takes a deep breath and looks Steve over for a second sighing as if disappointed in something. 

"What?" 

"Nothing," Robin says quickly and rushes to the front door. She pauses and looks over her shoulder. "Just please be nice." 

Steve gives her a thumbs-up and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans, waiting for this mystery man to appear. 

The door opens and Steve spots Chrissy first, sporting a very nervous smile, and then the door opens all the way to reveal Eddie. 

And holy shit. With all the warnings, it never crossed Steve's mind that the man could be so damn hot. He's wearing a black t-shirt with some band on it that Steve doesn't know but the short sleeves show off a few tattoos that make him curious about how many he may be hiding under the rest of his clothes. He tries not to let his eyes wander for too long, so he doesn't dare stare for any longer, glancing back up at Eddie's face in hopes that he hasn’t been caught. 

He feels his heart speed up a little bit as he finds Eddie looking him up and down quickly before shooting him a small smile. And god, he has dimples. 

Steve smiles back at him and walks to the front door. He bends down to pull Chrissy into a hug first before pulling away to hold a hand out to Eddie. He takes it, and Steve's eyes catch on his rings quickly. He wonders if the whole tough exterior was built to protect him while simultaneously drawing attention. "Hey, I'm Steve." 

"Eddie," he says back. And his damn voice goes straight through him. 

"Oh shoot, I forgot to grab something from the store before we got here," Chrissy says. "Robin, will you come with me to get it?" 

"I can-" Eddie starts to say, but Robin's already grabbing Chrissy's hand and pulling her out the front door. 

It closes loudly and Steve winces at the noise. 

Eddie turns to him and awkwardly smiles. "So..." 

"So," Steve says, noticing the hesitation coming from Eddie. He wonders... "Can I just come out and ask if you've been getting the same warning that we might hate each other?" 

"Yes!" Eddie says and lets out a deep breath. "And did they seriously just leave us alone thinking that?" 

"They're lucky if we don't kill each other." 

"If? Don't you mean 'when?'" Eddie asks with a teasing smile. 

Steve laughs loudly and asks, "Do you want a beer or something?" 

"God, I would love a beer." 

Steve smiles and walks off to the fridge, grabbing two and gesturing Eddie over to the living room. They both sit on the couch a comfortable distance away from each other, and Steve ignores the itch to move closer. "So, I heard that you were in a band." 

"And I heard you were a former jock." 

Steve snorts and waggles his fingers at him. "Your worst nightmare." 

Eddie dramatically leans away from him with a hand over his heart. "Good heavens, you're absolutely repulsive." 

Steve finds himself laughing again. He has no idea why Robin thought he would ever hate this guy. 

"So," Eddie says with a small smile, "What are you doing now, former jock? Chrissy hasn’t mentioned you being in any of her classes or hanging around the college, so I’m assuming you don’t go there." 

Steve runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the couch. "No, college isn’t for me. I'm working in sales at my dad's company. Specifically, as a car salesman." Eddie immediately cringes and Steve sighs, "Trust me. I know. But I'm absolutely horrible at my job. I can never bullshit someone. If they tell me what they're looking for, I'm giving them exactly that and not some overpriced bullshit." 

Eddie raises his eyebrows. "But you're still selling cars, so it sounds like you're doing your job." 

"Not the way my dad wants me to," Steve complains. 

"So, why don't you do something else?" Eddie asks point blank. 

Steve's a little taken aback by the bluntness, but he appreciates it. He shrugs. "I got horrible grades in high school to the point that I couldn't get into even the easiest colleges. Working with my dad just seemed like the only option." 

"For a while I was thinking about working at the plant with my uncle because high school was terrible for me. I managed to fail my senior year twice before graduating." 

"So, what are you doing now?" Steve asks, curious about what other options there are. 

Eddie leans back against the couch and takes a long swig of his beer. Steve tries not to focus on the tendons in his neck as he swallows. "I had this moment after I graduated where I suddenly realized that my creative outlets suddenly vanished. My band had to take a break because everyone but Gareth graduated and Jeff and Grant were going to college, and I could no longer run Hellfire Club which got rid of my Dungeons and Dragons outlet. And for some reason, I was struck with this great idea to write a novel." 

He shifts, crossing his legs under himself and looking off in the distance with a sad smile. "I just sat down and wrote and wrote. It's like the words were pouring out of me, and I couldn't stop them. God, I barely slept." He pauses as if he's reliving the moment. "Then, I had this extremely rough draft of this book, and I started calling publishers and I went to the first one who would take me. But they read it and told me it would be better as a children's story." 

Steve can't help but interject, "That's just one person's opinion though." 

Eddie nods and drinks more of his beer. "Yes, but they offered to actually look at it and publish it once I simplified it." 

"Did you do it?" 

Eddie nods. "Yeah, and I mean, it brought in a decent amount of money that I've been cruising on, but I don't know. There were so many things I wanted to expand on. I was aiming for a whole book series." 

Steve turns to him and sits crisscrossed. "So, what's the children's book about?" 

Eddie sighs, "You're going to find it so dumb." 

"Try me." 

Eddie puts his beer down on the coffee table and leans in to Steve. "So, it takes inspiration from Dungeons and Dragons. And it's about this boy who has never felt like he's fit in. For some reason, he's always been disliked by people or shunned for being different. Then, he comes across this monster, one that he's heard terrifying stories about from all these different adventurers. But instead of attacking it, he tries a different approach and finds that he can befriend the monster, and he ends up naming him Dart and they travel together. And for once he doesn't feel alone." 

Steve's jaw drops as Eddie continues to describe the story, feeling frozen in place. 

"Then, they come across more creatures, and they find they're all evil because they're always under attack. And yes, some are just pure evil, but it doesn't define the whole species. Then, the story gets really cheesy..." Eddie trails off with a groan. "God, this is embarrassing." 

Steve finally finds his voice and continues for him, "Then, he's practically hunted by the town who assumes he's evil because he's with all these monsters which they think he must have some sort of dark control over. But then when an even bigger monster comes and threatens to destroy the whole town, they turn to him for help. The boy becomes a hero, but he goes back with the rest of the monsters who always accepted him for who he was." 

Eddie's eyes become considerably wider by the end of Steve's narration. "How do you...?" 

Steve grabs his hand and pulls him to his room, opens the door, and goes through the small stack of books on the bottom shelf of his nightstand. He pulls out Eddie's book and holds it up. "You're Eddie Munson?" 

Eddie nods, totally bewildered. 

"Holy shit," Steve says with a big smile, "Dustin loves this book!" 

"Dustin?" 

"One of the kids I used to babysit, he's in high school now, but he went on about this book for weeks. He loves Dungeons and Dragons, and as soon as I saw it, I bought it for him. He thought it was some kind of joke because it's a children's book, but he read it and developed so many theories about it. He made all his friends buy it because he thinks it could change the whole universe of Dungeons and Dragons. Shit, you’re like a legend to him." 

Eddie's mouth just opens and closes. "I- I don't know what to say." 

"Could you possibly meet him sometime? No pressure at all, but he'd love you." 

"Yeah! Definitely," Eddie says and excitedly bounces a bit. "God, I've never met a fan before." 

"I have to warn you that he may be a bit much, and I don't think he would ever leave you alone after this. But it would make his entire year, maybe even his whole life." 

Eddie just smiles widely and nods. "Yeah! Yeah, I mean, I can also be a lot, so I'm ready. Just let me know when." 

Steve smiles and shakes his head. "This is so cool. And thank you, really, this means the world to me." 

"Same here," Eddie says. 

The two let the excitement bubble down a bit, but the smiles don't leave their faces. Eddie glances around though and asks, "No offense, but why is your room so..." 

"Empty?" Steve fills in for him. Eddie nods. "Well, my parents didn't really let me decorate my room, and I've just never really known what I wanted to do with my own place. So, I've kind of put it on the back burner. Plus, I spend most of my time in Robin's room or in the living room." 

Eddie looks around and shakes his head. "My room is covered in shit. It's like I never have enough wall space or floor space for everything I want." 

"I can see why Robin and Chrissy thought we wouldn't like each other," Steve says, sitting on his bed covered in a plain blue comforter and patting the empty space next to him. 

Eddie follows the cue and sits down. "That all feels like surface-level bullshit." 

"I think they're so blinded by their love for each other that they couldn't think beyond it. I know Robin's scared shitless of messing things up." 

"God, so is Chrissy. I swore that even if you were the biggest asshole I was going to pretend to like you. Luckily, you're making it easy." 

Steve feels the tips of his ears turning red. "Same here." 

Eddie smiles at him, and Steve feels so enamored by him that he can't help but ask, "So, what about you?" 

"What about me?" 

"Are you seeing anyone?" Steve asks, hoping he doesn’t come off as too forward. 

Eddie shrugs and looks down at his hands. "Sort of," he says and looks back at Steve. "I'm bisexual, so it's a little harder for me sometimes." 

Bisexual. The label that Steve has personally struggled with for years. 

"Shit, don't tell me your biphobic." 

Steve snaps out of his mini panic and asks, "What?" 

"You practically grimaced when I said bisexual. Or are you someone who is only okay with girls being in relationships but not guys?" 

"No! No," Steve insists. He takes a deep breath. He's not sure what it is about Eddie that makes him feel so at ease, but he confesses, "It's just that... I think that I'm also bisexual. I don't know though. I know I've had feelings for guys and felt attraction, but I can't picture myself dating a guy. But I feel so horrible admitting that. Maybe I'm just a coward." 

Eddie's expression shifts from guarded to sympathetic quickly. "Who can blame you though? The world sometimes just... sucks. But here's something that kind of blew my mind when learning about bisexuality - you can still have preferences. Like, for me, I have a preference towards men, but I can't deny that some girls I've had feelings for. Even Chrissy once upon a time, but I quickly realized how much better things were platonically. You can always have a preference for women; it doesn't have to be half and half." 

It's like something finally clicks in Steve's head. He breathes a sigh of relief. "Where have you been all my life?" he asks somewhat dramatically. 

Eddie laughs, "Being kept away by Robin and Chrissy." 

Steve smiles and traces their conversation back a bit. He lands on a question and asks, "So, how are you sort of dating someone?" 

Eddie groans and runs his hands over his face. "There's this guy I've been somewhat hooking up with at this bar. And he's just perfect, you know?" 

"Oh no," Steve says, feeling the familiar phrase wash over him. 

"What?" 

Steve really looks at Eddie, accessing him fully before declaring, "You're a romanticizer." 

Eddie scoffs. "How did you arrive at that conclusion?" 

"'He's just perfect,'" Steve mimics him. "It's the dead giveaway. Plus, I am too. It gets me in trouble a lot. But I hate seeing it in other people. Like there's this asshole I work with that my dad loves but I absolutely despise. His name is Collin, and he's constantly bragging about all these women he has practically begging at his feet for his attention and shit. Then, at these work parties, Collin's wife will always just go on about how perfect her husband is. God, it kills me because she's so blind to it all. I would tell her, but my dad would kill me if I did anything that potentially would affect Collin working for him." 

Steve sighs and clutches Eddie's book closer to his chest, not noticing until now how he's been unconsciously using it as a source of comfort. "Anyways, I just hate seeing people love blindly." 

"I've done the same thing," Eddie admits, "But this time it feels different." 

"Ten bucks he sucks." 

This startles a laugh out of Eddie, but he sticks his hand out. "You're on." They shake on it quickly. "So, what about you? Are you currently romanticizing anyone?" 

Steve smiles sadly. "Not at the moment, but feel free to call me out on it when I do." 

"Looking forward to it," Eddie says with a smile. "Now tell me, do you have to wear those awful polos to do sales?" 

"I do, but I'll have you know that I actually like those awful polos." 

Eddie stands up and gasps, "I'm appalled. Please don't tell me you have more than five in your closet." 

"I have way more than five. I actually almost wore one today, but I went with my comfort sweater instead." 

Eddie walks slowly toward his closet door. "Is this where the source of disaster is?" 

Steve raises his eyebrows and nods. 

"May I?" Eddie asks with his hand on the knob. 

"Prepare yourself." 

Eddie takes a dramatic deep breath to gather himself before swinging the door open dramatically and yelling, "It's worse than I thought!" 

"You haven't even looked through it!" 

"I saw more than two collared shirts," Eddie says in horror. "Steve, I've decided that Robin and Chrissy are absolutely correct, and there's no way I could ever like you." 

Steve laughs, but is interrupted by Chrissy and Robin suddenly barging into the room yelling, "What happened?" 

Eddie and Steve look at them and laugh. 

"We didn't hear you come in," Eddie says. 

"We wanted to check the atmosphere as it was, but we heard you say the thing about not liking Steve and we thought..." Chrissy trails off. 

Steve finds Robin staring at him while looking worried. "Steve, are you okay?" 

Steve frowns. "Yeah, I'm fine, why?" 

"You're holding your comfort book." 

Steve flushes red and puts his head in his hands. 

"His what?" Chrissy and Eddie ask. 

"His comfort book. He reads it or makes me read it whenever he's sick, has a bad day, or misses Dustin." 

"Robin," Steve groans, embarrassed by his secret being revealed. 

The mattress shifts beside him and Steve glances toward the source, finding Eddie amusedly smiling down at him. "So, you're also a fan." 

"Wait, what am I missing?" Robin asks. 

"Eddie wrote that book," Chrissy answers and crosses her arms, "But he also tells no one about it." 

Robin's jaw drops, but Steve ignores it to smile at Eddie. "Aw, so tell me, why me?" 

A small blush appears on Eddie's cheeks. "And why me about your..." he trails off, looking nervously toward Chrissy. 

Steve glances at Robin who looks at him, gesturing to explain. "I told him I was bisexual." 

Robin's jaw drops again. She and Chrissy exchange a look of bewilderment. 

Steve throws an arm around Eddie's shoulders and says, "Looks like you two were very wrong." 

"And we're very upset that you kept us away from this beautiful friendship for so long." 

"Very upset," Steve agrees. 

"Oh god, I think we've created a monster," Robin says. 

Chrissy just giggles. 

“I don’t know, I kind of like the monsters Eddie creates,” Steve comments. 

Eddie laughs and Steve looks at him fondly. He doesn’t think that Robin has ever been so wrong about something because there’s no way Steve could ever dislike Eddie.  

Part Two :)

Welcome to my new series! :))) I have so many shenanigans planned. And I’m doing a tag list! Just ask me and you’ll be tagged <3

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Eddie hated this and he'd just started.

See, he was so proud when he made it, when he got his first office job. He saw what decades of physical labor did to Wayne's back, his hands, and he wanted to make his uncle proud. So he kept applying and applying and getting ignored and rejected and finally, finally he got a job in a pretty large corporate. Not exactly something prestigious, but hey, it had potential. The experience counted and all that.

He thought maybe workplaces would be different, that the good ol' high school dynamic would fuck off, but no. He was sitting at his desk, trying to fill in paperwork after a taxing phone call, but all he could focus on was whispering from the neighboring cubicle that was ostentatiously loud. He didn't know who sat there yet, the guy had been on vacation for the two weeks Eddie was in the company. From the stuff he was hearing, he was getting introduced anyway and not exactly the way he'd have liked to be.

"Can you believe they actually let him work here?" It was Carol, of course it was, the office gossip and mean girl knockoff. "I mean, he doesn't even look decent! Did you see that hair?" Okay, that hurt. He actually pulled his hair into a neat bun every morning, but you can't please some people. "And he has tattoos, what would our customers think if they actually met him, plus you should have heard the rumors about his past-!"

But just as he was about to slam down the pile of paperwork and either take an extended smoke break or gently ask Carol to go fuck a polar bear, he heard another voice. Bored and wonderfully bitchy.

"That's absolutely fascinating, Carol. Please tell me more, what could this guy possibly have done? It must be something juicy. Did he perhaps fuck his boss during the Christmas party and then lie about it to his boyfriend of five years? Oh wait no. That was you. Silly me."

Eddie had to bite his pencil to stay quiet, but his whole chest hurt by trying to keep the snickering in. And then the offended gasp. "I- you promised you wouldn't-!"

"I didn't promise shit, Carol. You just came to me, cried your eyes out - bad move by the way, invest in some waterproof mascara for god's sake, mascara in wrinkles doesn't good on anyone, and yes, you do have wrinkles - and tried to play the victim. Except I heard your small proposition to the guy before so it didn't really work out. But it's fine, you know," and oooh, the tone was smug, so bored, Eddie loved this guy already, "Tommy saw you as well and had a good time with Nicole to get even. So there's nothing to worry about. Now tell me, what did this horrible Eddie Munson do to summon wrath of such a righteous woman such as yourself?"

Eddie heard a sharp sound as Carol got up from the desk. "Fuck you, Steve Harrington," she spat out and sped past Eddie's seat. He just gave her a small salute.

When the sound of high heels faded, Eddie leaned over the cubicle wall and knocked to draw the guy's attention. And yeah, maybe he was a little bit biased because he'd just obliterated a textbook definition of a shrew, but this Steve was fucking gorgeous, light brown eyes looking at him, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

"Oh hi," said Steve and offered his hand, shaking Eddie's. "Sorry for that. I'm Steve Harrington and whatever deepest, darkest secrets you're hiding, I don't care, I'm pretty sure I've heard them all. What did you do? Shave your head in school? Join a cult? Cut dolls apart and chant hail Satan?"

That had Eddie laughing again, but he still had an introduction to make. A proper one. "Nice to meet you, Steve. Eddie Munson, and I'm worse than your darkest nightmares. I sometimes wear socks in sandals."

Steve's eyebrow twitched. "Oh, Carol was right, you are a monster!" he muttered. "Speaking of monsters..." His head leaned to the side, towards Carol who was angrily carrying her coffee mug, her mascara running again.

Before he could catch himself, Eddie leaned over the wall and whispered as loudly as he could muster. "Can you believe some people wear dotted dresses with stripes on their stockings? We can't all be born with taste, I guess...tragic."

And again, maybe Eddie was just biased, but Steve's laughter was so pretty that it actually made dealing with Carol's bullshit worth it.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (ix) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : heated arguments and laundry days

warnings : ANGSTY!!!, mentions of alcohol and weed, sort of proofread

mickey speaks : thank you for bearing with me!!!! SHES BACK AND ILL HAVE PT 10 OUT TOMMORROW everyone cheered.

THIS IS PART NINE GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST SILLY!!!

THE music and crowd are just as rowdy as they were when the night began despite it being close to three in the morning, though the two of you only have heard muffles of it from behind matt's door.

he places a yellow card down while shaking his head in defeat, "go ahead."

you shyly smile as you place the colorful 'draw four' card on top of his, "uno out!"

you giggle when matt's head to falls into his elbow and his body collapses dramatically after losing for the third time now. "this game's fuckin' stupid, i didn't even wanna win anyway." he speaks through a roughness in his voice, smirk taking up his face as he moves his body away from the cards and towards the head of the bed.

you suck and nibble at your bottom lip as you shuffle the cards out of the way, mumbling, "mhm, of course you didn't."

he lays with an arm behind his head and slowly grows frustrated at your need to neatly place the uno cards back in the box (though your movements aren’t all that organized with the alcohol and weed in your system), “stop worrying about that and come here.” he blinks softly and childishly uses his foot to spill the open box of cards out of your hands, causing a good amount to scatter across his bed.

you finally look at him, with his silver chain proudly twinkling against his bare chest and his face that isn’t hiding his overwhelming high. “seriously?” you sigh, “now i’m gonna take longer, stupid.” you tease as you gather the cards again.

you can't help but notice his need for your attention is uncharacteristically high right now.

though matt abandoned you first- moving to the highest part of his bed without warning or inviting you -he’s starting to feel as if he was the one abandoned by you.

matt groans loudly in response, “come hereee. who cares about some fuckin’ cards?” he then lowers his voice to a grumble that he secretly hopes your perfect ears don’t catch, “‘s my birthday and i want you next to me.”

you smile to yourself and place the sleek closed package of cards off to the side of the bed, crawling towards matt. “oh really? i almost forgot?” you finally reach him and hover over his torso with your own.

your smile is relaxed and your teeth peek just the slightest bit from between your full lips in a way that drives matt a little crazy.

“yeah, i’m actually supposed to be hosting a party right now…” his hand absentmindedly finds the end of the shirt, he'd offered you after a second round of sex, and feels over the soft, familiar material.

your eyes widen as you let out a breath, “shit, am i distracting you?”

matt’s lips downturn as he shakes his head dismissively, “no…” his puffy eyes scan over you and he shrugs, “you’re perfect.” he whispers.

you dismiss him with a playful roll of your eyes and head shake- mostly to guard yourself, you wouldn’t want to cherish something matt only passively comments.

he notices you move away slightly and grips the bottom of the shirt to keep you close, “what’cha shakin’ your head for?” his face paints a look of true emotion- only you can’t quite place which.

“you’re funny,” you reply and take hold of his hand, tracing the outline of a deep vein that leads to his wrist- with thick curls of cursive tattooed across the skin reading: ‘seek divinity.’

“why am i funny?” he questions, watching as you move his hand to the highest part of your smooth neck.

he squeezes once and rubs the area, waiting for your response. “sorry- you just make me feel funny.” you correct, bringing your face closer to his.

matt wets his lips, “is that a bad thing?” his eyes squint as he stares at you in confusion.

you honestly just want to kiss him and make him forget you ever exposed any part of your feelings. “i don’t know,” you look at his lips and move closer to messily capture them between your own.

matt easily falls compliant when kissing you, frequently pulsing his hand around your throat to keep your attention.

when the two of you finally pull away his hands feel up your side and you wipe his mouth with your thumb before adjusting your body to lay against his chest.

matt rubs the plush of your hip hypnotically, “thanks for all of my gifts, by the way. you had me feelin’ so fuckin’ spoiled.” you can hear the uncontrollable smile in his tone. and you’re right, his drunken brain can’t help but smile in remembrance of your sweetness.

he hates himself a little for even wondering how much spoiling you’d do for a boyfriend, especially if you treated someone as one-note as matt this way.

you breathe in the remaining musk of matt's cologne and continue to draw swirls and never ending lines across his pale chest, “mm, you really liked it?" you know his answer but want to hear the validation nonetheless.

“of course i did, what the fuck? i got titty pics, my favorite cake made, and then some skimpy panties to fuck you in all for me? i’d say i liked every part of it.” you tilt your head up to face him as his smooth voice vulgarly shares his gratitude with you.

you smirk as much as you can with a face squished against his chest, and you want to hear him confirm it again when you probe, “really?”

he breathes before continuing, “yeah. even though i already knew you’d make us cakes.”

“are you calling me predictable?” you hum.

“no, but you’re not very slick. you fully asked me about my favorite cake flavor right after we came, like a week ago?”

“‘right after’ is exaggerating, matt.”

“i barely had my dick out of you and you went,” he adjusts your face to look at him as he holds your cheek and dramatically bats his eyes, “‘mmmm…matt that was soooo good. you’re amazing,’” you roll your eyes at his made-up fantasy. his thumb continues caressing your while pitching his voice up with a whine, “‘and what was your favorite flavor of cake again?’”

you deadpan, “okay, so now we’re just making shit up?”

“i was pretty damn close!” he has a faux look of shock on his face.

“shut up,” you laugh and remove your face from his hold to lay on him once more.

silence falls over the two of you as his hand inches further down your hip to palm at the curve of your ass. "i'll have to let danielle know you liked the embroidery."

matt's face screws up while he stares at the ceiling, "who the fuck is danielle?"

"she's a friend from school... i saw her a few weeks ago because she came into the bakery. we went out for my lunch break and-"

matt pauses from repeatedly saying "mhm" to tease you, "oh, so you were telling her all about me?"

"you wish. she was a fashion major and told me about all of the sewing and embroidery machines she uses to run her small business. so... i asked if i could pay for a commission."

"mmm, wow. possibly your sexiest idea yet," he feels your face shift to glance up at him and returns the contact, "you'll definitely have to tell danielle i say thank you." his eyes drop to your lips then back to your eyes.

you take the opportunity to lean closer to his mouth, which he willingly welcomes with a deep kiss; the most addicting part about kissing matt is the sensualness he adds with his slowed movements. it's so attractive that you almost grow resentful- because how could you not develop feelings for someone who is so deceptively careful with you?

matt pulls you closer and brings your body to lay directly on top of him, without giving your lips a second apart. the kiss never dies- with the amount of heavy petting and tongue involved the two of you can't help but work each other up.

only matt's lips now curl and he pulls away to give out an entertained giggle. your eyes question him and your lips don't know whether to mimic his or lean into a pout, "what?"

matt breathes in deeply through his nose and chuckles through his words, "nothing," he shakes his head, "just, like, crazy to me how you were for real dancin' on those dudes and shit all while you had my initial right where they wanted to be..." he runs his tongue over his front teeth.

your immediate reaction is to roll your eyes, typical ego-centric matt. he only replies with a mocking roll of his eyes as he smirks into another kiss. only now his lips make you feel disturbed- not attracted or comfortable -just sick.

so you pull away from him, "but what's so crazy and hilarious about that, matt?"

he shrugs, "i don't know," he laughs, "just nice to know at the end of the day i'm the one gettin' you."

you would swoon, if he hadn't already pissed you off beforehand with his competitive "claim" over you. yet at the same time you feel small and belittled- just like you did sat next to the blazing firepit with matt stood over you solely to rely a pathetic message to lucas. to say you're insulted is less than.

he can read your stiff body language easily, "sunny, look- 's not serious i'm just sayin' it's ironic that you have all these guys droolin' over you all while you knew you'd be in bed with me by the looks of your underwear." he says it with a smile which only makes your stomach hurt.

you pinch your eyes shut, "feels like your slut shaming me or something and that's, like, really low and fucked up, matt. i wasn't grinding on anyone tonight and even if i was, why should it matter to you?"

matt's playfulness seems to never end as he slowly and sarcastically nods his head, "'kay... so that must've been some other small-dress-wearing girl rockin' hips with lucas earlier."

"oh, fuck you." you begin to move from your place on his lap, wanting to leave before your fogged brain makes you too emotional.

"come here, where are you going?"

"anywhere but here," you mumble while searching for your phone in the dim lighting.

he throws his head back to rest against his headboard, "oh my god, i wouldn’t have said anything if i knew you’d be so serious about it, sunny."

"how else was i supposed to react, dickhead?"

"i don’t know right now but can you just come back? i’m cold now," his hand rubs over his chest while he eyes you.

"no, you can freeze. i should probably get out of here," your voice wavers a little due to your frustration.

you scurrying around his room is making his head start to hurt, "what are you looking for, huh? and i thought you were staying the night?"

your reply is snipped, "my phone." you begin to move his comforter around.

"it's right here," he grabs it from underneath a pillow next to him. but before he places it in your open palm he spares a glance at the bright screen earning an amused grin from him that you'd understand when seeing the two messages from lucas displayed on your lock screen.

"don't even start," you warn and matt only laughs harder.

"wow, he wants you so fuckin' bad. guy can't take a hint." he tsks to himself.

your tongue pokes into your cheek in irritation, "you're ridiculous, matt. truly. at least lucas cares enough to listen to me and do fun things like dance with me."

matt's unseriousness actually begins to die and there's a sharpness in his voice that you haven't received before, "listen to you? sweetheart, i listen to you run your mouth anytime we're around each other and you know that. we just sat and talked for an hour and a half so please don't tell me someone else 'listens to you' more. it's pretty hard not to."

your lips slowly pull into your mouth and you grip your phone harder, "clearly i hit a nerve..." you back away and go to pick your dress off of the ground, "you need to go to sleep or something. you're getting really mean, matt."

he rubs his hands over his face harshly, "okay, i didn’t mean to come off that way."

"whatever," you dismiss, taking his shirt off of your figure and replacing it with your tight dress. you reluctantly come closer to him and when he looks up at your face you turn around, "can you zip this so i can get the fuck out of here, please?"

"sure," he sighs and runs the zipper up your spine easily.

you lick your lips and don't even bother to look back at him as you gather your shoes and head towards the door.

"y/n?"

you stop and glace behind you to see him lying in the same position with a hand combing through his tussled hair, "what, matt?"

"like, are we not doin' this anymore...? is this just a right now issue or-?"

you throw your head back. his head is stuck on whether you'd still fuck him after this? really?

"hold on, i'm sorry, let's clear things up..." you let out an annoyed breath and turn to face him. "we aren't and never were exclusively seeing each other, correct?"

he's utterly confused by what ever point you're trying to make now, "no, we're not exclusive."

"right. so," the way you talk with your hands makes the calmness of your voice scarily condescending, "back to our initial topic... why the fuck do you have something to say about me and what i do outside of my direct relation to you?"

"because it's with my friend, who i've made clear to be off limits. that's disrespect," matt's mouth is in a straight line and his face completely sobered.

"and erin?! what the fuck is that?" matt sighs loudly and goes to cut you off, only for you to jump in a little louder now, "but because i don't threaten her and bully her out of simply speaking with you, she's not off limits?!"

matt has lost any since of a high he was once having. he's left pissed- not only because you're pissed at him but also because he's remembering exactly why he avoided you in the first place. his voice grows loud as he finally gets up from his bed, "y/n, you fucked me after erin was already interested in me! so what does that say about you?! you're really erin's friend? you believe that? sure." he shakes his head in disbelief.

you want to rip his perfect face off, "and what does that say about you?! that you're a slut? you're trying out two berries from the same bush, so fuck you. i'm done, actually. erin can have your sorry ass, leftovers go bad after a few days anyway." you turn to truly leave this time, feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.

but before you make it far matt delivers his thoughts in a heated speech, "yeah, okay, fuck you, y/n! go fuck around with someone who wants to dance around with you, like lucas or one of my other friends! i know you like the ones closest to me."

he's gotten close enough that he can see your eyes are glossed over as you whisper, "i hate you, matt" through your quivering mouth. his expression is tight and he ignores your pitiful demeanor in favor of opening his door and slamming it shut as soon as you're out.

౨ৎ

"good morning, brothers!" chris hollers as he walks into the trashed home from the garage. he places his keys into a dish on top of a table near the door (that now has old lollipop sticks and lost earrings found after the party had ended), and greets the two zombified versions of his brothers once more, "i said 'good morning brothers!'"

"chris, we heard you, now i'm gonna need you to turn that down a million notches." nick glances at him from the side before pouring milk in his bowl of cereal.

chris takes a seat next to nick at the dining room table and begins to peel the last orange from the centered fruit bowl, "do you feel twenty three?"

"no, i feel hungover and like i want you to be quiet," nick's voice is croaky as he takes another bite of his cereal and wordlessly scrolls on his phone.

"so enthusiastic." he rolls his eyes and takes a slice of orange into his mouth, "matt get in here, i can hear you doin' laundry!"

there's a slam of the dryer door and tussled noise before matt appears in the kitchen, "kid, yell again. i dare you."

"'i dare you,'" chris mocks, "no way a hangover's got you actin' this bitchy. it's the day after our birthday guys!"

"uh huh," matt grabs a bottle of water from the bare fridge, "where'd you just come from?"

chris continues to stuff his mouth with orange slices, "had to take andrea and y/n home; drea has work today."

"oh my god, speaking of-" nick places his phone down to debrief his brothers, "tell me why y/n fucking comes up to me last night- like close to the end of the party. like, i'm ready to either fuck jack or go to sleep my damn self, and she's cryin' and her hair's a mess and she's just like 'can i go to your room?' and obviously i'm terrified-" he takes a break to slurp more cereal.

"and you took her to your room?" chris questions.

"well of course i did. but i'm terrified for her and she just keeps telling me 'don't worry, i'm just being dramatic.' and obviously this morning i didn't get to talk to her so i'm worried."

matt keeps to himself, biting on his lip and twisting the cap to his water bottle on and off.

"well, she seemed okay in the car. like, she was quiet but i assumed it was after-party-recovery, you know."

"weird," is all matt adds before walking out of the kitchen and to his bedroom to go back to sleep.

౨ৎ

you took a burning hot shower when you got home.

you let the water slap at your skin and leave it aching and numb. you felt embarrassed at the sight of your body and the deep hickeys you allowed matt to scatter wherever he wished the night before. you took out the contacts that you slept in and threw them in the trash. your eyes felt itchy and you wanted to cry.

you swaddled yourself in an old college crewneck and tiny bloomer shorts for comfort. you wore your chunky, oversized glasses as you poured orange juice into a mug. only to actually cry out of frustration when remembering you hadn't brushed your teeth yet.

your tears mixed with the toothpaste in the sink. you were grateful andrea wasn't there to pity you. and you whispered to figaro that he couldn't tell anyone that you were this shaken up over a man.

you poured the rest of the orange juice down the sink. you didn't want to wait for the mint in your breath to leave.

you texted your parents to feel something; a simple "hi."

and you eventually opened your laptop and began searching for jobs that align with your biology major. that got overwhelming quickly. so you took a break and started a season of love island.

you fell asleep two episodes in.

౨ৎ

"no way his ass is still asleep," nathan laughs and approaches matt's door, knocking a few times, "dude! it's nate, come out here!"

unexpectedly the door opens, revealing matt in nothing but his plaid pajama pants. "yeah? what's up, man?" he steps out and daps him up smoothly.

"it's alive!" chris cackles from the couch.

nate shakes his head, "we were gonna go out to eat somewhere. they wanted to leave you but you know i had to check with you first."

"uh... sure i'll come too. i'm actually starving." matt smirks.

"wait matt, do you know where that one shirt of mine is- it's white and has like red on it and those words on the back...?" chris approaches to ask.

"you're lucky i just washed it otherwise i'd lose my mind over that bland ass description. should be in the dryer." matt suggests before leaving to go change in his room.

"cool, i'll grab it when you're fully ready so it's fresh."

matt calmly adjusts his silver chain the correct way around his neck, standing in the kitchen, when chris comes around the corner with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"what...?" nick looks at him confused and wanting nothing more than to leave the house.

"ummm... just found out that matt actually pulls and i'm shocked at how i discovered." he giggles to himself incessantly.

"what are you talking about?" matt's face twists.

"you got some girl underwear with your initial on it? you're a real ass freak!" chris bursts out laughing.

"what?!" nick asks, horrified and nathan barks out a laugh.

"the fuck are you talking about chris? why're you goin' through shit that isn't yours?" matt runs a hand over his face.

"did not know erin got down like that," nate breathes through his laugh.

"guess what? it's not our business and i would prefer to not make it my business at all actually!" nick raises his hands defensively.

"great, thank you nick! let's go now, i need a fuckin' drink or something." matt redirects.

chris can't help himself, "i'm sure you do you dirty motherfucker!"

•

[littlelioncub43]

Wake Up Call

Summary: Mornings were absolutely divine, especially in the company of one sweetheart of a metalhead— Eddie Munson. Even if he wasnt much of a morning person. You show him just how good a morning can be when you're together.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), fluff, blowjobs, oral sex (m receiving), morning sex, reader loves giving Eddie head, Eddie being a screamer, Eddie's morning voice, established relationship, face fucking, deep throating, crying during sex (not the reader), Eddie being a sweetheart, and a partidge in a pear tree.

Word count: I have no clue, babes, I wrote this on my phone 🥰

A/N: Holy shit. I am so self-conscious about this fic, you guys! I haven't posted a full length one-shot in so unbelievably long. I feel rusty. But! I'm posting it anyways! I still feel really good about this one. Anyway. Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment, send an ask, a carrier pigeon, a fax, a telegram, a kindly worded email— I would really love the feedback 🥰 it's nice to be back to writing, and I hope you love it as much as I do. Ok, I'll let you go now. I love you 💖

Kisses 💋

—K

The morning was still, a simple, peaceful hush hanging over the town of Hawkins, Indiana. Birds whistled their songs in a gentle voice, the trees barely rustling in the breeze as the world dreamt a little while longer. With the sun peeking over the horizon and Wayne already en route to work, the little trailer was serenity embodied.

You'd been up for a while doing nothing in particular as you waited for dawn to break. You loved watching the sun rise from Eddie's bed, the sunlight always seemed to pure shining through his curtains. With the new light slowly filling the room, you were finally able to properly see your boyfriend. Eddie lies beside you on his back, hands tossed across his chest haphazardly, his hair tossled carelessly around his face in a halo of chocolate curls and locks. The blanket that covers you both hung low on his hips, showing off the tattoos scattered across his alabaster skin, he ran a little hot at night and the summer heat was enough for him to toss the blankets aside. Your eyes trace the lovebites you left all along his exposed throat and the scratches along his meaty shoulder, a pleasant result of last night's vigorous activities.

The familiar surge of desire floods your body at the memory of last night, it sends a shiver up your bare spine. You bring one hand to his warm chest, drawing lazy lines as you scoot closer and closer to him. A smile tugs at your lips when Eddie twitches slightly, goosebumps pricking his skin like yours. Your hand glides lower and lower, you weren't in a hurry, no. There was more than enough time in the world for you two, right now.

As your fingers brush along the light dusting of hair on his tummy, Eddie can't help but shiver. Even in his sleep, Eddie was always so responsive; aching for your touch, your kisses, your love. He rolled his head to the side, breathing peacefully as he sleeps still. You watch his face for any signs of consciousness, when you find none, you chuckle softly. Your hand teases the edge of the blanket the covers his lower half. A prominent tent rests between his legs, the sight of it has you moaning softly. Your mouth watered with a hunger you knew well, you needed to taste him.

"G'morning, Princess," a raspy voice slurs. You heard the smile in his words well before you saw it. His face was soft from his slumber, eyes puffy but warm with love, his annoyingly charming smile lazily strung across his pink lips.

"Good morning," you whisper, bringing your hand back up to cup his cheek, leaning in so your lips brush against his ever so slightly. Eddie wastes no time closing the distance between you two. Eddie hums happily into the kiss when he feels your body melting into his, your legs tangling with his, his nornally bright voice was always unbearably deep and husky in the morning. The movement of his lips on yours distracts you enough from his arms slowly capturing your waist, holding you to him. He needed his morning kiss to function.

Finally, when breathing became a priority, Eddie relaxed his head back down on the pillow with a satisfied grin. Two rough hands slid across the bareness of your back soothingly as he looked up at you, he noticed the gleam in your eyes, even in the low light of early morning. The realization of your desire made his grin grow twice as big, his cock twitching excitedly with his heart.

"Whatcha lookin' at me like that for, pretty girl?" He teases, he knows exactly what you want. He just loves hearing you say it. You bite your plump lip to suppress a smirk, your hand leaving his cheek to float down his throat and chest.

"I wanna taste you, Eddie," you purr to him, not missing the way his pupils dilate at your confession, a shiver racking his body as your fingers tease the skin at the edge of the blanket once more. Your lips descend to his collarbones, sucking at the pale skin in the way you know drives him wild. "Please?"

"F-Fuck, yes. You can taste me, Princess," he whispers as if the air was knocked from his lungs. The devious pleased giggle you make against the curve of his neck is absolutely sinful, but Eddie can't help but grin wickedly with you. He feels your kisses deepen as you dip lower and lower, your hand finally cupping his morning wood gently— you always were a little tease.

The deep groan that rumbles in Eddie's chest when your warm fist surrounds his base echoes in the brightening room. Streaks of sunshine finally cutting through the blinds to illuminate your actions perfectly. Eddie lifts his head to watch your hand stroke him beneath the blanket, the duvet shrouding your movements, making it that much more erotic.

"Oh fucking hell, that's good," he groans, his hips pushing into your hand eagerly.

"Yeah?" You taunt softly, speeding your hand up ever so slightly. A surprised yelp breaks his deep moans when your teeth nip at the black widow spider inked into his chest, you give the demon head just below it a tender kiss with a pleased giggle before dropping lower and lower. The wet kisses you leave along his body has Eddie fisting the pillow beneath his head.

He fucking loved when you sucked him off, especially since you fucking loved doing it. The way you'd drop to your knees and take him into your mouth so happily, so eagerly— Eddie was wrapped around your little finger from now until the end of time.

"Jesus Christ," he sighs when you toss the blanket down and settle between his legs. You drag your free hand down his side, still steadily jerking him off with the other. You hum at the sight of his hard, throbbing dick, your hand slowing down to appreciate the way his shaft pulses. Your mouth waters to taste the beads of salty precum that ooze from him, but instead you latch on to his twitching thigh, biting the flesh there as you continue to teasingly stroke him.

"Mmmm," you moan, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you taste his skin, the heady scent of his manhood filling your senses. The strong yet lean muscle of Eddie's thigh tenses as you inch higher and higher. As much as he wants to believe you'll finally take him into your mouth, he knows better. His guess is proved right when you switched to his neglected thigh, opting to decorate it with hickeys and bites as you did the first one.

"Fuck— Princess, please, have mercy," he groans with a smile, his hands gripping the pillow a little harder. You chuckle and answer him with a kiss to the most recent hickey you were working on. Eddie watches as you finally bring your tongue to his head, he watches the pink muscles greedily clear away the drops of precum.

"O-Oh, fuck, yes," he moans as your lips encase his tip, his eyes fluttering. Yours stay on his face, enjoying the way his eyebrows furrow and crease with pleasure. With a slack jaw, Eddie lets out the pretties sounds you've ever heard; deep, throaty moans that bubbled from the pit of his chest and echoed throughout the unclean bedroom. His words slur together as you take more of his length into you, finding a slow and steady pace to bob your head.

This happened every single time, he couldn't believe how fucking good your mouth felt. How hot, how soft, how fucking wet you were. You moan as he fills your mouth, your hand not holding his base strokes his hip and inner thigh, knowing how sensitive he was there. The shivers you get in return tell you that he loves it. The vibrations of your moan has Eddie's hips twitching, stuffing more of himself into your throat.

"F-Fuck! Fucking hell!" He curses through his teeth, his eyes shut tight as he tries to calm down.

"Mmmmm," you moan again, watching as his face contorts once more.

"Jesus!" He shouts a little louder than intended, his eyes opening only to roll as you speed up ever so slightly. The sloppy sounds of his cock slowly fucking your mouth was going to drive him crazy. "Baby, ple— a-ah!— faster! Faster, God, please, faster!"

The rawness of his voice and his begging was more than enough to convince you. With a deep breath through your nose, you speed up. Your tongue flat against the underside of his shaft to guard him from your bottom teeth, and your hand moving from his base to cup his balls. The moment your soft hand comes into contact with his aching balls, Eddie does all he can do to keep from screaming; his balled up fist shoved into his mouth.

"Ohhhhmygod!" He cries from behind his hand as you play with his balls, his body writhes uncontrollably at the onslaught of indescribable pleasure. One, two, three more bobs of your head and you've swallowed him completely, your nose brushing against the patch of dark curls at his groin and his tip nestled deep in the heat of your throat. Unable to fight it anymore, Eddie's hand leaves the pillow to grip the back on your head fiercely, an unintelligible scream pitifully muffled by his fist.

The sounds erupting from your lover above you has arousal practically spilling from your untouched cunt. Your thighs rub together with need as Eddie's thighs tremble and spread for you. The grip he has on your head limits your movements, unable to pull off more than an inch or two, at best. In quick, jerking motions, he fucks your face eagerly as he listens to you gag around him. Your eyes, clouded with tears, flutter shut, allowing yourself to lose yourself in his pleasure.

Soon, you both find a rhythm. It's fast and dirty, primal, frenzied, lustful. Perfect. Eddie's deep moans raise in pitch, now sounding like a pitiful whimpering mess. Your own moans grow in frequency, knowing he's close to blowing his load down your throat, just like you want. The twitching of his cock signals his impending high.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—!" Water gathers at his lower lashes. He couldn't help himself.

Eddie's head slowly begins to lift off the bed, his abs contracting as the pleasure mounts higher and higher, his voice suddenly gone. His hand leaves his mouth to join the other on your head, his fingers going rigid, his eyes stare up at the ceiling in an unfocused gaze, chin tilted towards the heavens as his pretty brown orbs roll and flutter uncontrollably. The smart mouth that is quick with a joke or a witty comment is left hung open in a silent scream, he holds his breath, his entire body drawing painfully taught when the pleasure is suddenly too much for him to take.

The first rope of his hot seed shoots into your throat as Eddie goes still, tears spilling over. He swears on everything holy that he's ascended to heaven, his vision is white and blinded with bursts of light as you milk him dry. You pet his hip as he cums, swallowing his seed with eager gulps, his lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. Each time your throat contracts around his length, his muscles pull tighter.

Finally, the last bit of his cum is cast out from his body. The strength quickly drains from Eddie, his grip loosens from your hair as he falls back on to the mattress, his eyes drooping shut on their own accord. You release him with a pop, gasping to catch your own breath. Through the water in your eyes, you see Eddie's relaxed face, his body limp above you.

"Eddie?" You call softly, your voice gravelly from your throat being wrecked. When you get no response, you crawl up his body, taking note of his breathing and erratic heartbeat. He's out cold.

You can't help but laugh a little before gently petting his sweaty head, brushing his bangs off his sticky forehead. Eddie comes back to you softly tapping his cheek, his ears ring like a bitch but he can hear your melodious voice over the din.

"Eddie, baby, wake up, come on, open your eyes for me, honey," you sound far away, but your words get clearer and clearer. The first thing he sees is your relieved smile, and he just can't help but tiredly smile back. "Hi, there, handsome. You ok?"

"Huh-huh," he grumbles from deep in his chest, speaking was far too complicated for him right now. You had well and truly sucked him stupid. Sleepily, he nuzzles into your hand that now cradles his cheek.

"Ready for a nap, big boy?" You coo and pull the blanket over you both. He hums an affirmative and weakly slings an arm around your waist, holding you close to him. On instinct, you bury your face into his neck as you settle in beside him.

A nap couldn't hurt.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

I no longer have a taglist! If you wish to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library 💖🫂🥰

Dividers by the amazing @firefly-graphics

[strawberryspence]

Okay yeah this is going to be corny whatever. They deserve the corniness. Eddie calls Steve sweetheart and yeah, Steve loves every bit of it. But the first time Steve calls Eddie a petname, Eddie freezes and he tears up.

Steve has been calling him Eds since they became friends and Eddie loves it. Only Steve calls him that and it's a nickname for his nickname.

Eddie also knows that Steve wants to call him something. They once talked about it when they start dating. Eddie explaining to him why he calls Steve sweetheart. Steve said nothing was good enough for Eddie, baby or babe is sweet but it's just not Eddie. He wants it to be good because Eddie calls him sweetheart and means it.

The thing is Steve doesn't know this kind of love. He grew up alone, with parents who showed him that love was sleeping in two separate rooms and still going together out of town, with parents who forgot holidays and birthdays. He's only starting to learn what love is after Nancy, the real one, without bullshit, with the help of the kids, and Robin and Eddie.

Eddie's kind, has the kindest heart Steve's seen on anyone. He's been given the toughest shit from a young age with his family situation, struggling to be gay and being bullied. The whole Vecna debacle proves this, like what town goes after one guy without zero evidence? Despite all that Eddie is still kind. He forgives Steve, without a moment of hesitation, when Steve apologizes for all the shit he did in high school. He helps the old lady at the grocery store even if she lectures him about satanism. He helps swing the random kid on the swing even if their mom glares at him. He can't adopt random pets, but he has about 6 cats he has to feed everyday. Steve sees it everyday.

Eddie's gentle. Yeah, laugh it up. But he is, Steve says. He hides it well, Steve will give that to him. Eddie's gentle in his black shirt, ripped jeans, dark eyeliner, rings that could make your nose bleed and a tough exterior that could scare you away. But he is gentle. Gentle with the way he holds Steve when the nightmares catch up on him, the way he paints miniature figurines, the way he draws on El's tattoo with a marker, no matter how many times it has been, the way he wakes up Wayne, always with a cup of coffee. Steve sees it everyday.

Eddie's brave. He still doesn't believe Steve that he is, some days he believes it, but there are days that he still doesn't. Still regrets running away from Chrissy and not helping Fred. Steve reassures him that he is brave. He is brave in the way he loves so loudly and so openly. He is brave with the way he expresses his true self so freely without fear. He was brave, when he followed them to the Upside Down, was brave with Chrissy and Fred, was brave in his almost last moment. He is brave for continuing to fight every day. Steve sees it everyday.

Eddie's a lot of good things, and Steve can list it all in one sitting if he wants to.

Steve's watching the latest episode of Golden Girls when the timer beeps. Eddie's in the kitchen, sitting on the breakfast bar, writing like a maniac for the next campaign.

"Eds! Can you please get the cookies? I don't want to get up! The guy Rose slept with died on her bed!" He can hear Eddie laughing from the kitchen as he shouts an Okay.

Steve's immersed on the episode's story, just as Eddie comes waltzing into the room, gloved hand holding the tray full of cookies.

"Sweetheart, the cookies came out good!"

Steve nods, he doesn't even look at the tray, not wanting to miss a piece of this episode, "I know."

Eddie cackles, setting the tray at the coffee table, "Can I have one? Or is it only for annoying, invasive 16 year olds?"

Steve snickers, still not paying attention, "Of course you can have one, love."

Eddie freezes, just standing there, one hand reaching for a cookie, one hand still wearing the mittens. Steve immediately clocks this, is it Vecna again? That can't be they killed him.

"What? What's wrong? Are you okay?" Eddie nods, but something is wrong, Steve knows because Eddie's tearing up. He hits mute on the tv, focusing his full attention to Eddie. He'll just watch it on a rerun.

"What happened? You're scaring me, love." Eddie makes another chocked out sound, collapsing beside Steve as Steve scoops him into his arms.

"You... You called me love."

And yeah, Steve did. He didn't plan it, it wasn't even on the list of petnames when Steve was deliberating what to call Eddie. It just slipped out.

But it made so much sense. Love is... love is the warmth of a cup that says "worlds best uncle" full of coffee in the morning. It's the soft, worn out yellow sweater you wear on bad days. It's the beat you tap your hands to, a song that saved your lives. It's fresh baked cookies. It's in kind gestures, gentle hugs and brave actions.

Love is kind and gentle and brave. Love is who Eddie Munson is.

"Yeah... I guess I did."

Eddie smiles at him, tears still brimming in his eyes as they look at each other.

He looks soft. Maybe Steve will add that to the list of what love means for him. Soft.

"You still want that cookie, love?"

Eddie nods, "Please, sweetheart."

Steve sees it everyday. He sees love. He wakes up with it everyday, cooks with it, sleeps with it, reads with it.

Yeah, love really is the perfect petname for Eddie.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Hi there! Could I please request some hcs with Tenjiku? Where reader has like this yk2 grunge/alt OR the goth style of clothing if ykwim? And, because of this style reader has, they draw a lot of attention to themselves and because they are pretty too ofc, hehe😈

It's like the exact opposite to the hyper feminine, pink coquette style!reader you did recently on another hcs. I hope you understood what I meant because english is not my first language... 🤧🫶🫶

Tenjiku x Y2K Grunge!Reader

♡ SFW, suggestive, fem reader, fluff, jealousy, flirting, reader gets hit on a lot, reader attracts attention ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon and don't worry I understood ya perfectly 🩷

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Izana

🎴 Gets you a pair of earrings that match his, he needs everyone to know you're together

🎴 Super possessive over you and will absolutely roundhouse kick the shit out of someone if they flirt with you

🎴 Does your makeup for you, probably steals your boots too because they make him look taller

Kakucho

🩷 A fan of all of your outfits, thinks your style is very chill and fits you well

🩷 Especially loves when you wear baggy clothes because he thinks you're prettiest when you're comfy

🩷 Won't threaten anybody if they look at you, but definitely gives them a polite warning look (he deadass gives them death stares but he swears he didn't)

Ran

💜 Always threatening people in public for looking at you (he can't blame them though because he be looking too)

💜 Makes jokes about bondage when he sees you decked out in more than one belt

💜 Matches jewelry with you and really wants to get matching tattoos

Rindou

🩵 Doesn't understand why you drown yourself in accessories but he can't deny it's cute

🩵 Loves when you wear skirts, especially denim ones with intricate stitching

🩵 Gives people side eyes when they look at you, he knows you're beautiful but he also knows that they see his damn arm around your waist

Mucho

🔷 Loves when you wear oversized t-shirts, it reminds him of how cute and tiny you are, he'll even offer up his own shirts for you to wear

🔷 Won't hesitate to rock someone in their jaw for looking at you for too long

🔷 Buys you a bunch of jewelry and chains for you to hook on your pants, he got you dripped tf out for real

Mochi

🍡 Obsessed with the fishnets that you wear, whether it be stockings or a shirt, he's here for it

🍡 Puts people in headlocks for hitting on you and only lets go when you tell him to

🍡 Loves how you look in a crop top, he thinks your tummy looks cute (he pinches you nonstop too)

Shion

🖤 Y'all are that one hot grunge couple honestly, he's in love with the way you dress and wants to match constantly

🖤 Makes you walk ahead of him when you're out so you don't see him beating the shit out of somebody for looking at you

🖤 He especially loves the big boots you wear, just a normal amount though he totally doesn't want you to step on him or anything weird like that

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana

You guys are getting an absolute feast this week. Two chapters on regular posting days, the twenty snippets you got on WIP Wednesday, this, and of course more Across a Crowded Room tomorrow.

Enjoy!

Based off a post I saw on here (and didn't save for some reason) about the legal tangles gay people had to go through when gay marriage was federally legalized because a lot of them married different people in different states because their marriage in California wasn't legal in the other states and just never bother to get a divorce.

And my brain let's Steddify this shit Sweet Home Alabama style!

So here we go:

Eddie and Steve got married in Boston when Massachusetts made gay marriage legal. But they broke up when Eddie went to California with his band.

Cue Eddie going around and having a couple of really short marriages in different states. Tommy in New York for three months when the band was in New York recording an album. Billy in Hawaii for two weeks while Eddie was there on vacation.

Neither of them really mattered or were serious. Because they were only legal in the state they were performed in so Eddie didn't think anything about it.

Fast forward to a decade later, gay marriage is legalized across the country. Corroded Coffin has broken up and Eddie has a job as a tattoo artist.

Eddie goes to get a marriage license in Seattle where he's been living for the past five years. And is denied on the account he's a polygamist. He's still married to three different men in three different states.

Fuck.

His fiancee Chrissy is a legal assistant at a law firm so she has her bosses draw up annulments for Eddie's three marriages and has them sent out to all three of Eddie's exes.

Including Steve.

When Steve gets his papers, he's pissed. He hunts down Eddie's number and calls. Tells him that he can do the proper thing and tell him to his face he wants a divorce. None of this annulment bullshit like their relationship didn't matter. But until then he can fuck off.

Now Eddie's frantic. Because the reason why he and Chrissy were getting married in the first place is that her student visa ended in May and her work visa has been delayed three times. They have to get married otherwise she'll be deported. And no just a little across the border to Canada either, she's from Barbados.

He tells her the truth about Steve and how they were actually married for almost two years before Eddie left. They had been living in their home town of Hawkins where their marriage wasn't legal any way, but meant something to them.

Chrissy is upset he didn't tell her this sooner, because yeah, that's whole other kettle of fish. So she has her bosses draft a divorce decree and words it a whole lot nicer than the legalese of the annulment.

Eddie packs his bags heads to back to Hawkins and back to Steve. He has one week to convince Steve to sign the divorce papers.

He gets into to town and finds that Steve is the proud owner of the best bakery in town. And the best selling item is the chunky mint brownies Steve made just for Eddie when they first got together. Eddie gets a little sentimental about it, and Steve stubbornly refuses to sign the papers.

They go back and forth for a few days. They tumble into bed and Eddie wakes up, he finds Steve gone and the papers signed.

Only now that Steve has signed them, he doesn't want that anymore. So he breaks down crying and sobbing. He calls Chrissy and now Chrissy is as distraught as he is.

After they hang up Chrissy calls the bakery and Robin answers. Chrissy really needs to speak to Steve.

Robin tells her Steve can't come to the phone because he is covered in flour and can't because he'll get it messy. Chrissy asks if she calls his cell phone if Robin could hold it up to his ear, because she really needs to talk to him. But Robin refuses to budge. She banned Steve from having a cell phone around their giant stand mixer because he has lost three of them to the beast.

Robin offers to pass long the message, though. And Chrissy has to be content with that. She explains who she is and why Eddie needed the divorce. She tells Robin about Eddie's breakdown that morning and how he really didn't want to divorce Steve.

Robin and her get to talking about their best friends, missed connections and themselves.

While the girls are talking Eddie is having another freak out because he put the envelope containing the divorce papers in the mail box but realized he forgot to sign them himself. He needs to get them back so he can sign them, but he's afraid of getting arrested for tampering a federal post box trying to get the papers back.

He's near hysterics when Nancy finds him. She's in town visiting her family. And she helps him get the papers back by talking to the post office and they open the box and he gets them back.

She takes him to lunch to calm his clearly frazzled nerves. He tells her everything. And she tells him that while Eddie was in New York, Steve had gone to see him and when he saw how much bigger and better the big city was, Steve decided if he was going to win Eddie back, he had to make something of himself. And thus began the bakery. He almost had enough to fly to Seattle and woo Eddie. But then this happened.

Now Eddie is really stricken. He wants Steve so bad, but Chrissy is out of options.

Nancy gives his arm a squeeze and Eddie heads back to the hotel he'd been staying at.

He finally looks at his phone and sees a lot of messages and texts from Chrissy begging him not mail the divorce papers yet, she has a plan. Cue Eddie having a final breakdown in his hotel room, sobbing and wrung out.

There is a knock on his door and Eddie is confused the only person who knew his hotel and room number was Chrissy and she's in Seattle. But he gets up to answer and suddenly has an armful of Steve Harrington. Who is also a sobbing wreck.

After both of them calm down, Steve tells him he only signed the papers because he wanted Eddie to be happy. And if that meant being divorced from him, he'd do it.

But Eddie's isn't happy. He's sad and hurt and lonely. Steve is too.

They fall asleep in each other's arms, placing their trust in their best friends.

The next morning they are woken up by Robin and surprise surprise, Chrissy.

They explained that since gay marriage is legal everywhere now, Robin is going to marry Chrissy. And she'll swap places with Eddie. She'll go back to Seattle with Chrissy and Eddie can stay here with Steve.

It's perfect.

They get a marriage license and walked down the courthouse where Eddie and Steve are their witnesses. While the judge is talking, Steve pulls out Eddie's old ring. The one he returned to Steve when he moved out to be with his band.

He slips it back on Eddie's ring finger where it belongs. They kiss at the same time Chrissy and Robin do.

A couple years later Chrissy becomes a lawyer and her and Robin move back to Hawkins where Eddie has opened his own tattoo parlor, right next to Steve's bakery.

And they all live happily ever after.

Permanent Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars

[keeksandgigz]

it's you and me (that's my whole world)- day 1 of keeks's lover house series♡

Day 1 of my Lover House Series♡

♡rockstar!eddie munson x famous!fem!reader♡

allusion of smut, r and eddie are in a secret relationship, disgustingly fluffy, kinda sad and angsty<3

"the whole school is rolling fake dice/ you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes"

You don't know how much longer you can go on with this lie.

"A PR Relationship for the ages" it was called on every single tabloid, everyone knew it was fake. Yet, you deluded yourself nobody did.

You deluded yourself that nobody knew it was to cover up the disastrous encounter with the paparazzi, catching you stumbling out of a dingy club hand in hand with Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson- your secret boyfriend. In those pictures he sported various lipstick marks on his face and neck. Your management team was furious.

To keep up the "American Sweetheart" image, you'd been persuaded to date some airhead quarterback, up and coming NFL star. And you'd tried, tried to hard to be able to establish something with this guy, but there wasn't much there there to begin with.

But you catch yourself running back to him. Every Wednesday night, he meets you at his New York apartment, adrenaline and fear thrumming within you as you enter through the back alley of his building.

Feeling safe in the comfort of his home, it's like a fortress where no one can reach you, a place where you can forget about the rest of the world and their demands and lay in his arms.

It's a swirl of lips, hands, tongues and limbs once you step foot in his door. The desperation to feel him as close as possible, starved for his touch, needing to feel him close. You seem to crave him with every fiber of your being as you often waste no time getting each other's clothes off.

Feeling the warmth of his skin, tracing the ink of his tattooed chest. He handles you with such gentleness and care that you can't fathom how a man like him could easily tarnish your image.

"Beautiful girl, missed you so much this week" he mumbles against the soft skin of your abdomen as he kisses down your body "Wednesday never comes fast enough, does it?" he chuckles, caressing the sides of your thighs, peppering kisses from the arch of your foot to your knee.

A slow tease, as it may seem, but in reality, it's just a way to make time go by more slowly, an illusion to grant yourself a longer night with him. A prayer to make your Wednesday nights never ending.

That's why you're tangled in sheets at 3 AM, while Eddie draws circles on your arm. "Y'know I don't mind having to hide, right?"

You sigh "I know, I just wish we could come clean, so I don't have to fake date that piece of shit" a gentle kiss is placed on your forehead.

"Soon, angel, I promise. M'fixing my image for you, so we can show up to your fancy events hand in hand. Everyone's gonna wish they didn't make shit up about us" he smiles, cradling your face in his hands. He is fighting sleep tooth and nail to be able to steal a glimpse, one more look, see how beautiful you look in the glowing yellow light of his side lamp.

"It's always gonna be you and me, baby" that's what he'd often say. A promise that things will eventually go your way.

It's too late to turn on the big light. So he allows himself one more touch, one more look, a caress.

Damning himself for falling victim to sleep, he looks at you one last time, already in the arms of Morpheus, as he lets himself sleep.

He doesn't hear you stir at 6 am, like clockwork. You grab your clothes and make your journey down the back stairs of the building, where your driver is waiting for you.

You look up. One day you'll get to wake up with him.

Day 2 is Reputation! Find the form here!

[moonshinemusings]

Random TF 141 + friends headcanons (Pt.2)

Warnings: none

• Soap makes amazing pancakes. There are many videos of him trying to flip them over and failing, but that's not the point-

• Speaking of, Farah has so many vids that can be used as blackmail. She can never catch Price or Ghost doing something dumb enough for it, but the others are unfortunate victims

• König loves butterflies. Most bugs freak him out, but he finds them beautiful and peaceful. At the same time he loves bees, he really does, but he's really scared of being stung (even though it has never happened before)

• Roach, being true to his name, finds bugs really fascinating. He owns at least one metal pin of a roach that's for sure. The others also often gift him little things resembling insects

• Alejandro and Rodolfo used to sit on the roof and watch the stars together a lot as kids

• Gaz really likes swimming, especially when he can do it in the sea

• The team has UNO nights where the table ends up flipped over regularly (usually by Alejandro)

• Soap shouldn't be taken to the cinema because he talks through the movies. All. The. Time.

• Farah is really clumsy in heels since she never needed to learn how to walk in them. She'd rather die than try though. Meanwhile, Valeria could run and kill a man without ever worrying about falling or breaking her ankles

• And honestly? I think Gaz would rock the heels too, if only after a little practice

• Ghost finds sharks fascinating, especially the aspect of how many people are scared of them when they are mostly harmless

• Soap, Gaz and Alex really enjoy the Deadpool movies, they often quote lines at each other

• Graves is a Backstreet Boys enjoyer (honestly can't blame him)

• Rodolfo adores those little, fluffy white dogs that look like rats whenever they are bathed

• Put Soap in a dance circle and he's going to make a fool out of himself, but somehow slay at the same time

• Alex likes drawing tattoo ideas that he wants to get later, or simply just feel like making. Doodling calms him

• Farah takes zero shit (like Gaz), so when there is a banter with someone it can quickly turn into a heated argument or some firm words from her

• Price is a certified McDonald's hater. Calls it fake food and complains about the quality and taste constantly

• Ghost likes horror movies and laughs at them, but only when they don't have some specific scenes (I don't think I have to elaborate)

• Soap has random shit on him all the time. Once he pulled out a lollipop from his vest and started eating it on the heli towards a mission

• Most of the team plays Hay Day. They are on each other's friend lists, but Rodolfo is the only one who actually helps the others

• Alejandro builds his farm like he would in real life and tries to make it realistic, while Rudy does the same. He cares more about the cute animals though, he probably has like 10 dogs and cats

• Gaz tried to get Price to play, but he cut his whole career short because the Captain started to get obsessed and wouldn't put the phone down

• Soap always brags about how good his farm is, meanwhile Ghost quietly sits in the background with like +30 levels on him. He often plays when he can't sleep so he's ahead of everyone

• Alex and Farah kind of bond over the game, they have one shared account because neither of them spend too much time playing. They often have childish arguments over things like where they should put certain decorations, but always end up finding a compromise (Alex lets her get away with a lot in this sense)

[the-fluff-piece]

How they first say "I love you" - sweet fluffy headcanon

You've been growing closer and they realize: they love you. But how will they tell you?

Sfw fem!reader in mind headcanons for Zoro, Luffy, Sanji and Law

Like this one? Check out my headcanon masterlist or even my story masterlist

Zoro

As soon as he realizes what he's been feeling all along, he drops whatever he's doing (meaning his training weights fall through the floor) and goes straight to you

He stands before you, arms crossed, not caring that you're currently enjoying a drink with the others on deck. In fact, everyone should know right away, especially the cook

"Y/n, I fucking love you!" He states. When you don't answer right away he adds "that's all".

You look around into your friends faces, feeling flustered. "Love you, too" you answer. He scoops you up into his arms and carries you away explore this new level of your relationship

Luffy

He charges, wraps all his limbs around you and endlessly repeats "I love you" while rubbing his cheek against yours

That's it, that's what he does. His approach is simple and effective.

Sanji

He loved you from the second he first saw you. But he fell even more for you when you spent time together. When he sees that there will be no other for him ever again, he invites you to a romantic and delicious candle light dinner.

He's still insecure and it scares the shit out of him. What if you refuse? What if you love him, too? What if...? But he knows that he needs to fight for his happily ever after. He pours all his love into the dinner he will serve you.

There's wine and multiple courses he's serving. He's fawning over you the whole time. At sunset he kneels in front of you, saying "Y/n, I love you!"

Too bad he tells that to a lot of women, including you, on a regular basis. "Thank you!" Is your answer.

When he realizes that his previous behaviour made his confession somewhat meaningless, he is trying really hard to get his point across. Eventually, he gets an expensive ring and waits for the best moment to propose - but with life on the sunny, the moment doesn't come. After a particularly gruesome fight he was in you tend to his wounds as usual and he thinks: now or never. His bruised fingers can hardly fumble the ring out of his pocket, his hurt legs can't kneel, so he holds up the ring, lying in bed, asking you to marry him. He passes out from blood loss and general exhaustion before he hears your answer

Law

He tries multiple times, but the words don't come out. So he stands in front of you, mumbles "I...I.. uhm..." than seems to swallow hard and goes silent.

He needs a new plan. He needs to write it down for you. And he has a great idea.

When he catches you alone, he blocks your way, clears his throat - and takes his shirt off. He points to a new heart tattoo on his chest, it bears your name. He can hardly look you in the eye and his face turns crimson. You lay your hand on his chest and kiss him as an answer. He draws you close and doesn't care who may be looking.