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#me: lets write single dad eddie feels
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"dad?"
eddie looks up from his book at where his daughter is standing in the doorway to his bedroom. it's late in the evening, a little past ten. she's already dressed for bed; one of eddie's old anthrax t-shirts and pajama pants.
the look on her face and the way she's using the door frame to hide herself tells eddie there's something wrong.
"you alright, sweetheart?" he asks, setting aside his book and patting the space beside him. she immediately goes, crawling in next to him like she's still seven years old and not almost seventeen. jesus, eddie thinks, his little girl is growing up right before his eyes and he can't do a damn thing to stop it. she curls into his side and rests her head on his shoulder.
she's quiet, which isn't out of the norm for her, but she's clutching onto the front of his shirt like a lifeline. eddie combs his fingers through her curly hair and smiles as he feels her slowly relax.
"you wanna talk about it?" he asks softly, kissing the top of her head.
more silence.
"when..." her voice is small as she speaks, nervous as she takes a shaky breath. "when did you realize you were different?"
the question surprises him. it doesn't take a genius to figure out what she means. when she was born, eddie vowed never to keep any secrets from her, including the ones that could be considered confusing for a four year old kid asking why she didn't have a mom like the other kids in her class.
still, he needs to be sure so he can quell the curiosity growing in his chest.
"different as in...?"
she huffs and rolls her eyes, not unkindly, and puffs out her cheeks, not meeting his gentle gaze. "when did you realize you were trans?"
oh.
eddie's eyes widen. he feels like a cold bucket of water was just dumped on him. his brain kind of shuts off for a few seconds because that definitely wasn't the question he was expecting. he clears his throat and shifts slightly.
"well..." he starts, thinking back. "i was around your age, i think. maybe a little older. why? is that something you're thinking about, maybe, exploring?"
he looks down at her and his heart breaks at the tears welling in her eyes. "hey, look at me." he cups her cheek and turns her face toward him. her bottom lip wobbles as she finally looks at him, her green meeting his brown.
he holds her face in both hands like she's the most precious thing in the world. "you know you can talk to me, right? about anything, especially about this." he waits for her nod. "and you know that there is nothing in this world, and i mean nothing, that will make me love you any less, you hear me?"
he thumbs away the tears that stain her cheeks and he's not far behind, himself.
she sniffles and takes a sharp inhale, her eyes still wet and her voice unsteady, "i think...i think i might be a boy."
a fierceness alights in eddie like he hasn't felt in a long time. he beams down at her proudly. "okay. what do you want to do about it?"
she frowns. "i...i don't know yet."
"that's alright," he tells her. "sometimes just putting a name to the feeling is enough for that moment. but when you're ready, i'll be here to help you figure it out."
that brings on a new wave of tears from the both of him and they laugh as they wipe away each other's tears. they settle down into bed, the unspoken agreement that she's bunking with him tonight like she used to when she was little.
just before he shuts off the light, she says quietly from where she's burrowed under the blankets, "i love you, dad."
eddie kisses the top of her head and lays down beside her. "i love you, too, baby."
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ashwhowrites · 7 months
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No cash, no problem
Summary- Y/N can't afford to pay Eddie for the night, but he has a different payment in mind
⚠️smut- oral sex and fingering ( age gap but it's all legal )
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Single milf!reader x babysitter!Eddie
~~~
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Eddie struggled to find a job, he did his dealing but he also wanted a job so Wayne could know where the money came from. But based on his appearance and reputation in the town, not many gave him the opportunity.
Then he met a stressed-out mom in a store. Way in over her head and struggling to keep her three kids in check. He helped that day and now months later, he found himself their babysitter.
Eddie adored Y/N and her kids. He met her ex, he was a total dick and a shitty dad. The kids loved him, he got along the best with the two boys. They talked about movies and video games. He got along with everyone and he had a good relationship with Y/N.
Eddie had all the kids down for bed by the time Y/N arrived. He sat on the couch as he watched the TV low. He watched as she bent over to take off her heels. She sighed deeply and ran her hand through her hair.
"Stressful night?" Eddie asked, his voice causing her to jump and turn around. A relieved smile as she noticed it was Eddie. He muted the TV as she walked over. He eyed her dress, the way her body looked amazing. Her curves are more at notice with the tightness of the material. Her perfume smelled amazing and she looked gorgeous.
"You have no idea," she groaned, she began to dig around in her purse. Eddie assumed for cash for the night.
"Tried a date, right? Complete asshole, who didn't even pay for dinner. Then doesn't drive me home so I had to take a cab," her voice got more stressed as she dug around in her purse faster. "Which now I realize I gave the last amount of my cash to the driver and now can't pay my fucking babysitter." She groaned, throwing her purse on the floor.
Eddie held back a small laugh at her mini meltdown. "It's alright, Y/N. Don't worry about it." He said.
"No! You do so much for us and deserve to be paid. I mean you got Ben an A on his project, and Kasey won't shut up about you. I think she's in love. And Jack adores you. I mean you do more than their father." She ranter, steering away from the topic. "Can I double it next time? Or I can write a check?" She struggled to find a solution and she was so frantic about it. Eddie couldn't help but watch her fall apart.
"Those are all fine. Or honestly, it can be on me. It sounds like a shitty night." Eddie offered, he stood up, his body up close next to hers. He felt his fingers inching towards her before his brain knew.
"I need a bath then I'll be fine. But I'm still paying you some way." She smiled gently at him as she touched his arm. A short way to show her affection and a promise. She went to move away but Eddie moved faster. His hand grabbed her arm, and he brought her hand up to his mouth. He watched as she froze and sucked in the air. Her mouth slightly opened.
"I think I know a way you can pay me. A slightly different method." He whispered, then he took her ring finger, one that used to have a band around, and slowly put it in his mouth. He was crossing a huge boundary and he prepared for the slap across his face. But instead, she moaned and zoned her eyes in on his mouth as he sucked her finger.
"What's that?" She whispered, her voice cracked and she coughed to try to fix it. Her eyes never left his mouth as he let her finger go with a pop.
"Let me eat," he started, yanking her arm to bring her body smack against his. She stumbled into him but he kept them in balance, "that pretty pussy, momma." He whispered against her lips.
She wasn't sure if she got drunk off her glass of wine or if Eddie was truly hitting on her. He was an attractive boy, but he was just in his twenties and she was ten years older than him. It was way too wrong to feel this turned on.
"The kids." She mumbled, turning her head to look up the stairs. Eddie grabbed her chin and brought her face against his again. His lips were right on top of hers.
"Then you'll have to be quiet then, huh?" He smirked, raising his eyebrows as he challenged her.
"But..." She trailed off. She tried to wrap her brain for an argument but she felt like her brain shut off.
"You say stop, and I'll stop. Let me make you feel good, take away your stress. Feast on you like you've never felt. Not by that loser ex-husband and not that loser from tonight." His dirty words made her submit. A little pleasure wouldn't kill her and he was of age. And based on the hardness she felt against her thigh, it was something he wanted.
She nodded and allowed his lips to smash on hers. She gasped as he slammed her against the wall and his hands immediately slipped under her dress. She moved her tongue into his mouth and her hands went in his hair. She was rough and tugged. Harder each time she heard the growling sound he made.
She moaned against his tongue as his fingers moved her underwear aside, and his fingers fucked into her. Her head fell back and his mouth latched on her neck. She cradled his head as she began to ride his fingers. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep quiet, not trying to scar her children for life.
She gripped his hair harder when his thumb rubbed her clit and his teeth sunk into her flesh.
She got her breath back when he pulled away, but her break didn't last long. He dropped to his knees and pulled her leg over his shoulder. He growled at the sight of her wet pussy, pulsing and asking for more. He didn't need the extra wetness, but he still spit right on her clit. A way to mark her as his.
She threw her hand over her mouth the second his tongue was on her clit. He knew just how to suck and flick. He made her knees shake. His fingers were back inside of her as he sucked on her clit.
Eddie loved the taste of her on his tongue. She was sweet and way better than he imagined. He couldn't deny the amount of times he thought of doing this. And the many nights he craved to taste her just like this.
He didn't care to be clean, he was messy and sloppy. His tongue moved between her folds to taste every inch, removing his fingers just to circle his tongue inside. Her body arched off the wall and he could feel her digging at his roots.
Eddie moved his tongue back up to her clit, and his fingers entered her again. He went fast and slipped in three fingers, and then slipped in a fourth one. He felt her snapping before she even made a sound. Four fingers deep as he fucked her and spelled his name with his tongue on her clit, sucking harshly at the very end as she came.
Her body slumped against the wall but he kept his mouth on her, shoving her against the wall and he held her up as he finished tasting her. She was sensitive and shaking but he made sure to lick up every single drop.
She tried to catch her breath when he gently placed her leg back on the ground, he moved her underwear back in place and pushed the underwear against her sensitive clit. She bit back the whine, the material soaked up her wetness. He pushed her dress back down and cleaned off his mouth.
He smirked as he took in her fucked off state. "no cash, no big deal."
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger
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joequiinn · 6 months
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1
[chap two] | [all chapters here]
summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers
a/n: Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.
(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)
wc: 3.9k
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Chapter One
The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.
Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.
Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.
Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.
To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.
So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?
That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.
Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.
You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.
Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.
It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.
So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.
Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).
Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.
Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.
So… What did you want? What did you actually like?
It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.
Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.
So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?
Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?
You settled on four key things to keep in mind:
You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.
You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested  in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.
You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.
And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.
How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.
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The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.
You were going to sit at a new lunch table.
You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.
But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?
You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.
Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.
“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”
So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.
“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.
“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”
You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.
Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.
And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.
You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.
As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.
As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.
Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.
Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.
Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.
Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.
As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.
That’s when an idea began to form.
You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.
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In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).
You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.
You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.
So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”
Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.
But then the idea gave you pause.
You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.
But… maybe?
Shit, what a stupid idea.
Or maybe it was a brilliant one.
You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.
You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.
Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?
It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.
So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:
Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436
You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.
You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.
He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”
Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”
The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.
“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.
You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.
So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.
When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.
So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.
It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.
You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:
Picnic table behind the football field, 4.
God, what were you getting yourself into.
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eddiernunson · 1 year
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Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+
Master List | Next Part
My best friend tells me that he's a keeper
I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad
I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)
Word Count: 7.5k
Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)
Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.
As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.
“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”
Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”
“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.
“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.
Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.
It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.
Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.
He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.
You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.
It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.
But the feeling just nagged at your skull.
For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.
The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.
“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.
You nod, gritting your teeth.
-
Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.
Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.
As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.
“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.
He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.
“What?”
“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.
You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.
(From what you’ve heard anyway)
Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.
“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”
Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.
“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”
“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”
This helps you very little.
Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.
Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.
“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.
You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.
You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.
“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.
Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.
He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.
“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.
“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.
“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.
“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.
“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.
He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”
You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”
“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.
He could spit on you, and you would thank him.
Oh. That’s…new.
That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.
“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.
“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”
Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.
“Yes.” You affirm.
“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.
“Oh, a mixer.”
“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.
You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.
Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now.  He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”
You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.
He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”
“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.
Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”
The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.
“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”
He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.
That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.
-
The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.
Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.
Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.
But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.
Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.
Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.  
Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.
Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.
You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.
You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”
The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.
“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”
The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.
This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.
Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like
If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.
-
“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.
You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.
When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.
“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.
“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”
“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”
You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.
Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.
You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.
You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”
He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.
“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”
Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.
You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.
“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.
“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.
Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.
Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”
“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”
“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”
His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”
-
Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.
The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.
A church mixer.
He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.
His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.
He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.
Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.
He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.
Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.
He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.
He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.
Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”
The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.
“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.
Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.
Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.
He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.
He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.
A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.
You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.
Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.
Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.
Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.
He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.
-
The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.
 To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.
As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.
Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.
You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.
He rejects it. “Not hungry.”
“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.
“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.
“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.
“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.
“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.
“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.
You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.
Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”
You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.
“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”
This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.
His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”
“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.
“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”
You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”
Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.
“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”
You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”
“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”
You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”
“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.
“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”
“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.
“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.
“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.
“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.
“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”
“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.
“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.
“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.
He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.
You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”
“I-I can’t—”
“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.
You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.
“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.
“Fuck—” you start to protest.
“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.
You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”
“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”
“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”
“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”
“All over your fingers.”
“You gonna lick em clean?”
“Can we share?”
Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”
The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”
Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”
Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.
Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.
As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”
You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.
Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.
“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.
“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.
“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.
Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.
It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.
“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”
“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.
“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”
“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.
“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”
“Gonna be a good slut for me?”
“Yes..I will I promise.”
He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.
Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.
“Move…please?”
“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.
“Fuck. Sorry.”
He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”
You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”
You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.
Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.
“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.
His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”
You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.
“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.
“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.
“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.
Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.
Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.
Eventually, a storm would hit.
But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.
-
As always i Love reading comments, replies, reblogs <3 remember reblogging is the best way to support on Tumblr
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you
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firewasabeast · 3 months
Text
(I made this little headcanon then had to write a fic for it. Here's 2k words of the 118 being obsessed with Tommy ft. Bobby being a dad, of course. Enjoy here or on ao3!)
The Problem
Buck has a problem.
He knows it shouldn't be a problem. Knows he should be grateful. He's never had anything like this before. Never felt so secure in his life. Work is good, home is good, friends are good, family's good, and his boyfriend... well, he's really good.
Buck is in love, like really and truly in love, for the first time ever. Yes, he's said it before, and maybe he meant it, but not like this. He's never had this much stability, and care, and comfort, and security. Buck doesn't just love Tommy, he feels loved by Tommy. Since the moment the words I love you slipped out of Tommy's mouth, there has never been a doubt in his mind that Tommy means it. And he knows that Tommy feels the same way about him too.
But none of that is the problem.
The problem is he's not the only one who loves Tommy.
All of his coworkers love Tommy.
A lot.
Apparently he is a very popular guy with the 118. Buck always knew Tommy was a cool guy, even when he first tried and failed to discredit the claim, but he didn't realize that every single one of his coworkers would also think Tommy was the coolest guy to ever walk the planet.
Okay, maybe they didn't actually think that, but it was obvious that they liked him and they wanted to be around him.
All. The. Time.
At first it was cute. Buck was thrilled that everyone liked the person he was dating. He was overjoyed that they always had something positive to say about Tommy, that they had him included in group chats, and invited him to hangout with the team after a shift.
Then it became... a lot to manage.
Chimney and Tommy had a long history, so it was to be expected that they would hang out on occasion. They both loved to watch classic movies and, while Buck didn't mind one every once in a while, he wasn't a huge fan of black and white so he let them have their time with that. He just didn't expect Chimney to add the Old Classics Movie Network to his cable subscription so there was always another movie being recorded that they needed to watch and analyze.
Tommy and Eddie were already friends, and Buck and Eddie were best friends, so it was easy for the three of them to hang out. Buck could get into wrestling, he liked karaoke trivia, and he was a big fan of learning Muay Thai. But that's where Eddie had a problem.
“Every time you come to Muay Thai,” Eddie whined, “you and Tommy end up going one round, get all horned up, and leave early.”
“All horned up?” Buck repeated with a glare. “What are we, fifteen?”
“You're banned from Muay Thai,” he declared, holding up a finger to silence Buck's incoming protests, “at least once a week.”
Then there was Hen, who Buck thought would care the least of them all.
He was wrong.
She became convinced that she was the reason he and Tommy ever got together, not Chimney.
“Chimney may have been the one to contact Tommy, but it was me who planted the seed in his head,” she'd say, “so I was actually the one who connected you two.”
It turns out Tommy and Karen also had a lot of similar interests, so one double date turned into regular double dates. Often, Karen was texting or calling Tommy to set up the next double date before Buck even knew a thing about it.
Hen also enjoyed Tommy's dry humor. They could battle back and forth for hours in sarcasm wars, and often enjoyed hating on the same things.
Even Ravi wedged his way into Tommy's life. He actually wanted flying lessons for other purposes than staring at Tommy for hours at a time while he rambled on about what each button did.
And Tommy was so kind, so insanely, annoyingly, kind that he always made time for everybody. Buck had no idea how he did it, but he did. He even always had time for Buck too, Buck just wanted more of it.
He knew it was selfish. He knew Tommy deserved to have all the friends and found family in the world, which is why he'd never say anything to him about it.
But, he could talk to Bobby. Ask Bobby to talk to the rest of the team, because he'd tried and they wouldn't listen to him. Or, maybe Bobby could just schedule him off a day where everyone else worked? Give Buck and Tommy a day where distractions weren't possible, because all of the distractions were busy at the station. Surely he could do something.
He should've known better.
The second he tapped on Bobby's office door, Bobby excitedly waved him in.
“It came in the mail today,” he declared, as if Buck was supposed to know what that meant.
“Wh- What came in the mail?” Buck asked cautiously as he sat down.
“The murder mystery game Tommy and I talked about last time you guys came over. I had no clue he was so into puzzles and mysteries. I already talked to Tommy, and you two are coming over for dinner tonight.”
“We are?” Buck asked. This was a lot of information to be thrown his way so quickly.
“Yes. Well, he actually said he'd ask you about it and then confirm, but you already said you didn't have plans earlier, so...”
He should've known that question was a trap. Bobby had asked what everyone's plans were while they were on the way to a call earlier in the day. Buck had answered that he and Tommy didn't have any, which was risky, but his mind went blank in the moment. His actual plans involved a lot of nudity, mind blowing sex, and hopefully some whipped cream, but he was trying to not be so blatant about his sex life anymore.
But now Bobby was looking at him with wide, excited eyes, and he did remember Tommy talking about that game, and Bobby's food was always so good, so it wasn't like he could say no.
“Yeah, of course it's fine.”
Which led them to now, having just enough time to shower and change before driving over to Bobby and Athena's place.
“I know we haven't had as much us time lately,” Tommy said as they reached the door. Of course he did. Of course he noticed everything. “So we'll stay for dinner, and do this game, and we'll go by nine.”
Buck tried to play it cool. “No rush.”
“Evan,” Tommy replied knowingly, dropping a kiss on his temple, “we'll go by nine.”
Who was Buck to argue? “Yeah... Yeah, okay.”
Dinner went smoothly, as if there was another option. Tommy was always great at keeping up conversation, and he and Bobby knew tons of people to reminisce about and catch up on. Tommy had a long history with Athena as well, and a lot of mutual respect between the two, so the conversation never stalled.
It wasn't like Buck was ever left out either. Bobby and Athena were his family; more of his parents than his actual parents. Bobby cared for him, loved him, watched over him in ways his father never did. Athena was a dose of reality when he needed it. She was stern, expected the best from him, and didn't whitewash anything. He felt more comfortable in their home than he ever did in the house he grew up in.
And Tommy always had a hand on his leg, or his back, including him in the conversation or bragging on whatever he did at work that week. When Buck talked, Tommy looked at him like nothing else existed in the world. He listened, hung on to every word.
He made Buck feel special.
Which is why Buck wanted to take him home, rip off all of his clothes, and adore every inch of his body.
He couldn't do that yet though, because it was only seven-thirty and they still had to play the murder mystery game.
It started innocently enough. It was a fun game with pictures, paperwork, some evidence, and background on all the suspects. Buck figured they'd read through the material, follow along, and they'd be led to the murderer in no time.
Then Bobby rolled out the cork board and began pinning suspect photographs and pictures from the “crime scene”.
Things devolved from there.
Athena gave up before nine. “I solve murders all day long, I don't want to do it all night too.”
Buck still held out hope they'd leave on time.
Another mistake.
“Hon, it's getting late,” Buck said a little after nine, gently patting Tommy's back. They were sitting beside one another at the dining room table. Buck had been half paying attention, half going through a Wikipedia rabbit hole that started with active US serial killers and had somehow ended up on the origins of duct tape. “Maybe we should let them get some rest.”
“Buck, we haven't solved the murder yet,” Bobby replied, lifting both of his hands to show all the paperwork. “Cassie's ex-boyfriend is a prime suspect, but I have no physical evidence to prove he did it.”
“I think we should look more into the circus clown,” Tommy replied, handing Bobby yet another piece of fictional paperwork. “I learned a long time ago that you never trust a clown.”
“We already cleared the clown. He had an alibi.”
“Did he though? His best friend, the balloon artist, was his alibi. The clown could've paid him off.”
That's when Buck decided he'd be better off slipping away and joining Athena in the living room.
“Would you like some leftover pie?” Athena asked, eyebrow raised knowingly, as she lifted up her own slice.
Buck nodded. “I got it.”
He returned a moment later, pie in hand, extra whipped cream. He sat down on the couch, across from where Athena was curled up on the loveseat.
“There's not much on right now,” Athena said, staring at the TV, “but these home improvement shows always find a way to reel me in.”
“As long as it's not a murder mystery, I'll enjoy it.”
Athena let out a laugh. “They're in it deep, aren't they?”
“I'm not sure an actual murder would take them away from that game.”
Athena shook her head, peering into the dining room. “Our boys are something else, aren't they?”
Buck smiled. He couldn't help the butterflies in his stomach. The night may not be going as planned, but there was something so sweet, so domestic, about it all.
Everything felt... right.
“Yeah,” he replied, “they're something.”
Two more shows started and ended, and Tommy and Bobby could still be heard in the other room, arguing about whether it was the clown or the ex.
“You know, I looked up that game a while ago,” Athena whispered into the darkness of the living room, the only light from flashes on the TV, “and it wasn't the clown or the ex.”
Buck sighed sleepily. “I think we'll be spending the night tonight,” he mumbled, his eyes slowly closing where he laid on the couch.
“Already made up the guest bedroom,” Athena replied, taking another sip of her drink. “New toothbrushes in the bathroom too.”
It'd be another two hours before Tommy would come and gently wake up Buck and lead him to the guest bedroom. They'd brush their teeth, and change into some of Bobby's pajama pants before snuggling in bed.
And then, before the sun rose, Tommy would be popping up from a dead sleep to exclaim, “It was the candlemaker!” before running out of the room, and apparently right into Bobby who- from the sounds of their mumbled laughter and high fives- had the same epiphany.
Yeah, Buck had a problem. And he hoped he had it for the rest of his life.
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queenimmadolla · 2 years
Text
𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃
(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)
*NOT Mature, SFW — incorrectly flagged
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.
Summary: . . . After almost losing you in a scare related to your preterm labor, Eddie is reluctant to meet his newborn son, whose life still remains on the line, until some convincing from you. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.
a/n: congrats on making it to part two! we still have quite a bit of angst to get through but we're almost through the storm! this part (even though i wrote Wayne's World as a whole) was my favorite to write, and i'm sure you'll be able to guess why. word count is 6k. good luck and happy reading! and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈
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Hours passed by, Penny had fallen asleep in his lap again and so had most of his friends with the exceptions of Jonathan who looked like he could really use the sleep, Eden and Wayne. Steve would snap awake every once and a while, careful not to jostle his sleeping girlfriend. Nancy was asleep on Jonathan’s shoulder while Argyle used Eden’s lap for a pillow. Barb and Robin were hanging off chairs in the most uncomfortable looking positions, Robin’s snores almost painful sounding. The ‘kids’ (teenagers) had been picked up by their parents, only agreeing to go home if they could come back to wait with him first thing in the morning. 
  Eddie didn’t rest for a single second, mind torturing him with horrible, horrible thoughts. One played in his mind on loop; he was holding Penny as he walked out of the hospital. They were on their own.
  It held him captive, he hadn’t even noticed your doctor approaching him until she gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
  “Mr. Munson?”
  Wayne and Eddie traded quick glances and he handed Penny over, trying not to disturb her too much in his rush but she just curled up to Wayne.
  Eddie stood up, already feeling lightheaded. That voice in his head that had been torturing him whispered something cruel to him, enough to make him want to cease existing: maybe you, somewhere in this hospital, already gone and he didn’t know it. Was she about to confirm his worst fears?
  “I apologize for the fright we gave you. Your wife started hemorrhaging and she lost a lot of blood.”
  Yeah. Eddie’s world was ending. It was over.
  “But we were able to stop the bleeding and get her a transfusion. She’s stable and she’s going to be just fine.”
  The relief was almost crippling, the heaviest weight he’d ever felt on him was lifted. Eddie wanted to cry, he squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to compose himself before he broke down in front of another doctor.
  “We have her in a room, probably hold her for a couple of nights, depending on her recovery. Would you like to go see her?”
  “Yeah, yes, please.” He nodded rapidly, wiping furiously at his eyes. 
  Dr. Eisenberg nodded and began walking down the hall, “If you’ll follow me.”
  Eddie turned, ready to ask Wayne to look after Penny when Wayne cut him off, “Go. I'll let ‘em all know she’s okay and send ‘em home. They probably won’t be able to see her tonight or in the mornin’, but I’ll stick around. Let me know when I can come on up.”
  Eddie wanted to hug him, but he really needed to see you. 
  “Thank you, Wayne. For everything.” Then he was scrambling after Dr. Eisenberg, who had stopped to wait for him.
  The walk to your hospital room had Eddie ready to tear his hair out, he’d wanted to just ask your doctor for your room number so he could sprint the rest of the way because her pace was much too slow. He was desperate to get to you, to make sure you were really still alive.
  “Here we are,” she stated, pushing your room door open. “Hello, again, Mrs. Munson. I brought someone who’s been waiting for you.”
  Eddie’s breath hitched as Dr. Eisenberg stepped to the side and he finally saw you, eyelids heavy from whatever sedation you were still trying to pull yourself from, and a smile on your face that only widened when you locked eyes. 
  “Hi, baby,” you slurred, sleepy little smile not going anywhere. And neither were you. 
  The rush of emotions he was experiencing was too much, he burst into tears where he stood as Dr. Eisenberg closed the door behind her on her way out. 
  “Eddie…” you mumbled out, reaching the hand lacking an IV out to him. 
  Of course you were trying to comfort him, you were the one confined to a hospital bed, having just barely survived a traumatic birth and you were still trying to comfort him because you were perfect. 
  He slowly approached your bed, hot tears—he was surprised his body could even still produce more tears given how much he’d cried in the last few hours alone—streaming down his cheek. Eddie really did collapse when he reached you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
  You wrapped your arms around him, holding him to your chest as best as you could, though you had no idea why he was crying, brain too hazy.
  Eddie didn’t sob, just silently shook as he wet your neck, inhaled your scent, felt your warm skin and pulse beating beneath his lips. He hadn’t lost you, you were still here.
  Ideally, he’d be holding you and squeezing you hard enough to ensure you’d never leave his arms again, but even in his emotional hysteria, he was mindful of your condition.
  Eddie pulled away, large hands framing your face as he pressed desperate kisses all over your face, making sure every inch was caressed with his love before he focused on your lips, mouth meshing messily against yours.
  You could taste the salt of his tears, feel a couple of stray ones catching where your lips met. While he may have been feeling a mixture of emotions, all you could feel right then was content and still a bit sleepy from the anesthesia.
  When Eddie felt he’d conveyed his love for you sufficiently, he pulled away, a wet and hoarse chuckle escaping him when he realized you could barely keep your eyes open.
  “You sleepy, baby?”
  “Mhmm.”
  “Get some rest, sweetheart,” Eddie’s thumb stroked over your bottom lip before resting over the center of it, “just, please wake up.”
  “Okay,” you mumbled, eyes already shut. Still, you managed to press a kiss to his thumb before you slipped into a blissful slumber.
  While you slept, Eddie had one of the nurses phone up the waiting room and sent Wayne. The poor man looked exhausted, but the relief on his face was evident when he saw you sleeping peacefully. 
   He looked like he wanted to cry, too. Instead, he just cleared his throat, blinked to keep the tears away and spoke low so as to not disturb you or the sleeping toddler in his arms.
  “Everythin’ alright?”
  “With her?” Eddie’s red rimmed gaze drifted back to you, focused on the rise and fall of your chest. Still breathing, “Yeah.”
  Wayne nodded once and they both stood there in silence for a few minutes as the world began to turn again. Something still wasn’t right, felt wrong. He could tell by the tension his boy still had, arms crossed as he crouched in the seat next to your bed. 
  “And the baby?”
  Eddie flinched as if Wayne had shot a gun off in the air rather than mention his son.
  “I don’t know.”
  Wayne watched him with a careful eye, Eddie looked almost like he was vibrating from the force at which his leg was shaking, even your hospital bed appeared to be affected by it, though not nearly enough to disturb you.
  As much as he wanted to comfort him, for once, Wayne didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say and he had an inkling that anything that came out of his mouth wouldn’t be heard by Eddie. He was lost in the dark crevices of his own mind. 
  The most he could do was offer to give him some alone time, he was sure his boy wasn’t keen on others sticking around right now, even him. 
  “I’ll take Penny home, me and Maude’ll watch her.” 
  Eddie shook his head, a look of panic flashing over his face, “No, that’s alright. She can stay with me.”
  Wayne was reluctant, mouth set in a frown. Penny was a good girl, usually, but he didn’t know if Eddie could really handle her along with processing everything going on around him.
  “Really, we wouldn’t mind─”
  “I need her.” 
  That shut Wayne right up, he and Eddie shuffled to exchange Penny from his arms to her dad’s without waking her. She stirred momentarily then shoved her face into Eddie’s neck, her little body falling slack once more.
  Wayne gave his shoulder a good squeeze, ran his hand gently over Penny’s back before he leaned down—and in a rare show of affection—pressed a brief kiss to your forehead.
  As he was walking out of the room, Eddie felt the panic crawling down his throat again. He croaked out a broken, “Wayne─”
  Wayne paused in the doorway, turning to acknowledge Eddie but his nephew didn’t continue, just looked scared. For a moment, Wayne was caught off guard, sucking in a breath as his boy looked young for the first time in a couple of years. 
  Now, he knew you and Eddie were young. He’d been aware of it when you got together, aware of it when you told him you were pregnant with Penny but sometime after that, he stopped seeing your age, stopped seeing Eddie’s as the two of you grew up for her. Now, right then, he remembered with startling clarity that Eddie wasn’t even twenty-five. He looked so young because he was.
  Eddie didn’t have to say anything else because Wayne knew exactly what he wanted him to say.
  Wayne nodded slowly, mouth pressing into a firm line of determination, “Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”
  Eddie choked up, held Penny a little tighter and Wayne went on his way.
  He found himself settling back into the seat he’d dragged near your bed, cradling Penny as she remained blissfully unaware and drooling on his scrub top.
  Wayne wasn’t wrong, she’d probably be a little too much for him but she was his kid, it wasn't like he could just hand her off to people when life came at him like this and he really did need her right now. Again.
  You were here and whole, but somewhere else in this hospital, a member of his little family was still slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t let the other one out of his sight, couldn��t lose her, too.
  Once more, Eddie remained restless as the hours passed. He sat in mostly silence. He’d turned on the tv near your bed, the volume high enough to drown out the sounds of the hospital outside of the room but much too low to wake you. Rain trilled against the windows, much more gentle than it had been earlier. The storm had also passed, and if there was even an ounce of humor in him, he would have been amused with how this storm seemed to fester like a black cloud looming over him. 
  It’d been a normal day up until he’d gone to Lucas’ birthday party, but he’d been skeptical about leaving you, worried something would happen. The metaphorical little black cloud formed over him, as a result, and so did the actual black clouds, quickly calling for wind and rain at high speeds. 
  And when Eddie had found out you were okay, you were alive, his black cloud disappeared, though it left behind damage and a cold atmosphere. The real storm had also run its course, leaving behind weather that reflected exactly how Eddie felt.
  Penny squirmed in his grasp, and he realized he’d tensed up so he quickly relaxed, shifting her into a more comfortable position in his hold. 
  “Why don’t you give her to me?”
  Eddie’s head snapped over to you, surprised to find you awake, somewhat lucid and watching him with a small smile on your face.
  “Because you just had your insides removed and put back in,” He smirked, another wave of relief washing over him. You’d woken up, you really were okay. You weren’t going to leave him.
  You rolled your eyes, making a vague hand gesture to brush the subject off, clearly the surgeons hadn’t removed your sass.
  “She’s tiny and there’s more than enough room on here for both of us.” You hissed as you slowly shimmied your way to the side of the bed and Eddie frowned.
  “Okay, how about you don’t move so we can limit the amount of heart attacks you give me today, yeah?” You knew Eddie must have been worried so you didn’t take the lack of humor behind his words and the tension on his face personally. 
  A quick glance at the clock confirmed your suspicions, “It’s three in the morning, Eddie. New day, but I’ll keep my antics to a minimum.”
  Insistently, you patted the spot next to you, perfectly Penny sized and high enough to guarantee she wouldn’t accidentally move against your incision.
  With a sigh, Eddie complied, gathering his daughter up. Tensing up disturbed her but full on moving her didn’t, most likely used to being carried into your home after she’d fallen asleep in her car seat or on the couch.
  She didn’t stir when he laid her down, either. You both had to rearrange her limbs into a more comfortable position, one that didn’t make it look like she was possessed. Once Eddie tucked her in, he let out another sigh and cast you an apologetic look, big brown eyes wide, glassy and full of sorrow.
  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” It was the last thing you deserved after what you’d gone through.
  The sincerity in his voice almost hurt you, it was heavy, as though it carried more weight than just a simple apology for his tone. 
  You held out your hand and Eddie immediately slipped his over it, locking his fingers with yours, squeezing as his breath hitched. 
  Your hand was so warm and soft. At one point in the last twenty-four hours, he’d thought he’d never get to feel it again, never get to hold your hand or see your pretty face. Never get to say…
  “I love you,” he blurted out, the panic he’d felt earlier when he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said those three words to you climbed right out of his belly, trying to claw its way out of his chest. Eddie took in a shuddering breath, head shaking as a hot tear escaped its confinement, trailing down his cheek. He moved to the other side of the hospital bed, so he wouldn’t crush Penny, and took your face in his hands, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips, hoping he was able to convey just how much he loved you.
  He needed you to know.
  “Eddie,” you mumbled as he pulled away, only to hide himself in the crook of your neck again. You could feel his tears against your skin and it alarmed you. “I love you, too, baby. What’s wrong?”
  “I thought I was going to lose you,” he confessed and you felt your heart seize up, “I thought I was gonna lose you twice in the same damn day. I was so fucking scared, sweetheart.” 
  When he’d been driving to the hospital, there had been a moment when he wondered if you’d still be breathing when he got there. It made him want to throw up so he quickly squashed it and forced it to the back of his head. It hadn’t been ideal when he’d entered the operation room, he didn’t like seeing you get cut open but it was comforting to see he’d overreacted. You were getting a c-section, you weren’t on your deathbed.
  Until you had been. 
  And for the second time that day, he thought you were going to die, thought he’d somehow cruelly manifested this for you and himself.
  “I’m alright, Eddie.” You freed your hand, grabbing his to cradle your cheek with. 
  “See? I’m okay. You didn’t lose me, you’re not going to.” Eddie pulls away from his hiding spot to stare down at you, the wounded puppy look still firmly in place so you add a little humor, hoping to get a smile out of him, “There’s no way I’m checking out this early, I can’t risk you moving on when you look this good.”
  Eddie’s hand was so big his fingers were tucked into your hair, his palm alone took up most of your cheek. His fingertips lightly massaged the area of your scalp available to him as the hurt on his face morphed into an earnest look, somehow more vulnerable.
  “There’s no moving on from you, you’re taking my soul, my heart, all of it with you when you go. You’re the love of my life, my everything. And that—fuck, it terrifies me because I’d still have Penny to take care of and I wouldn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t know how to pull myself out of it, if it’d even be possible and quite frankly, I don’t ever want to fucking find out.”
  Eddie was more than happy to have those types of questions remain unanswered for the rest of his life.
  “You’d be able to do it, I know you would. You would be able to take care of Penny and the baby.” You knew he would, your husband would pull himself out of his depression to make sure your children were okay because of how much he loved them, despite his grief.
  Eddie flinched, something you were quick to clock. You didn’t need to ask, he could see the question reflecting in those beautiful eyes of yours. 
  He had to break the news. You were already in a frail condition and he had to tell you the baby you’d almost died to have, your son, might still die.
  “Honey, the baby—he—fuck, he’s uh…there’s something wrong with his heart.”
  The way your face plummeted shattered something inside of him. 
  “What?”
  “He’s got a hole in his heart, the doctor said it was pretty common amongst heart defects but since he was born so early, it’d be difficult to medicate him or perform an operation. All they can do is keep him under observation, he still might not make it because of how young he is.”
  You squeezed your eyes shut, head dropping back to meet your pillow as you tried, and failed, not to cry. Why was this happening? You blamed yourself, why hadn’t you been able to keep him in your belly? Why had your own body betrayed you? Why had you failed your baby?
  “This is all my fault,” you declared, eyes and cheeks growing wet with your tears.
  “No, no, sweetheart.” Eddie was not about to let you take the blame for something out of your control or even allow you to believe any of this was your fault. “You can’t possibly believe this is on you. These things happen, it obviously isn’t ideal, but it’s just circumstance. It’s not your fault and it’s not the baby’s fault. You did everything you could and more. Okay?”
  He leaned in, finger stroking gently across your cheekbone as he caught a tear. You sniffled, nodding once as he pulled you back together.
  “What does he look like?” You asked, snuggling back into the pillow as Eddie coddled you.
  He hesitated for a moment before he answered, “I—I don’t know.”
  That elicited a small frown from you, “You haven’t seen him yet?”
  Eddie swallowed hard, gaze moving away from you, “No.”
  You waited, watching a series of emotions pass over his features. Eddie often tried to keep his internal struggles to himself, a habit you noticed once you became friends with him (ironically, through some trauma bonding) and even into your relationship. You hadn’t expected him to confide everything in you right away, though you had let him know should he ever need someone to talk to, you’d be there.
  Now, it wasn’t a matter of if he would, it was when. It didn’t take him long. 
  “I don’t know—I guess,” he pursed his lips, eyes squeezing shut as he felt the all too familiar burn of fresh tears. How many times had he cried in the last twenty-four hours? He felt ridiculous to be so emotional, then again, he’d never thought he’d find himself in this tragic situation, so he was due for a couple of breakdowns, “I know if I go down there and I—I look at him, I’m gonna fall in love with him and then what? He dies. I can’t do that, not if I’m gonna lose him forever. I can’t.”
  Eddie was leaking tears, not yet sobbing but well on his way as he made his confession. He couldn’t stomach seeing his baby boy if he was going to be taken away from him, if the two of you would have to put a tiny little coffin—a size that should never have to exist—six feet into the ground. He’d been put through the fucking ringer but Eddie couldn’t do that. It would break him.
  Eddie’s confession had you crying as well, you shared his pain. You didn’t want to lose your baby, either. You couldn’t remember what he looked like through the haze of your fatigue when you’d given birth to him, but if you tried to think hard enough, you could remember how it felt to have him in your arms in the passenger seat of Wayne’s truck. The first time you’d held him and you hoped it wouldn’t be the last. 
  Even if it was, you were grateful you’d had the chance to and you knew Eddie would never forgive himself if he didn’t get to see him, didn’t get to meet him.
  “I know you’re terrified, Eds. It scares me, too.” You grabbed his hand just as it slipped away from your face, encouraging him to look at you. “I don’t want to lose him, either. I want to take him home. I want to cuddle with him, nurse him, take tons of pictures of him with Penny and with you, but most of all, I want to make sure he knows I love him.”
  It killed you to imagine your baby in an incubator, small, helpless and with no one but the nurses, who could make the time to check on him in between all their other patients, offering him comfort. Human contact. And if he did end up passing, he could do so alone in there, not knowing how loved he was. 
  “I know you love him, Eddie, and you don’t want to lose him. But you can’t lose him if you don’t have him, baby. I hate that this is even a possibility for us, but I’d rather have held him and lost him than to never have picked him up at all. I’ll be okay with whatever you decide, but do you really want him to die without having gotten to meet his dad?”
  Eddie let out a choked sob as he shook his head. He didn’t want his baby to die at all but you were right, if he did lose his kid, he’d spend the rest of his life agonizing over the same thing Eddie had been upset with himself for when he thought he’d lose you. He’d been unable to recall the last time he told you he loved you. Only, he’d know he never told his son. 
  “I’ll be right back,” he swore and you nodded just as he leaned down to give you a kiss. He wiped away his tears, inhaled a particularly violent sniffle and you watched as he left your room to finally meet his baby.
  Eddie felt almost disorientated as he navigated his way to the NICU. He’d been there once, briefly, to check on Penny when she’d been there for a few hours, but that was a couple of years ago and he’d needed the assistance of several nurses and staff to direct him, but he finally made it.
  The entrance room, where the viewing window was located, was nearly empty. There was a woman further down, gazing through the large window.
  Eddie approached it with caution and his heart racing a mile a minute. It wasn’t too difficult to find his baby. His son was in an incubator, close to the window and labeled ‘MUNSON’. For the first time, Eddie got to take his son in. He had been right, he fell in love with him at first sight.
  He was smaller than some of the other babies, bigger than others as well and surprisingly well developed. Kind of calmed Eddie’s nerves, just a little. He had a couple of monitor pads attached to his tummy with an additional one wrapped around his tiny foot. Other than the nasal cannula, baby Munson didn’t have a whole lot of tubes attached to him like Eddie had imagined and he could see a smattering of hair on his head, somewhat light in shade but he had a feeling it would darken soon to resemble his own. 
  It was hard to tell if Wayne and Penny were right in their description of him, Eddie couldn’t tell if he was still pale since the baby was cloaked in blue light, but he assumed his son had gained some color by then. Eddie also couldn’t make out his eyes, those were covered by some sort of eye cloth, most likely for protection. He looked a little odd, obviously resembled a baby and while his features were almost indistinguishable, appearing a little generic, as his face still needed to develop a little more, Eddie could see hints of familiar features. 
  He looked like newborn Penny, well, so far. Her features had obviously changed since then, and still were, but he was promising to look almost exactly like she had when she was born. And Eddie thought Penny looked a lot like you, so it got a smile out of him, regardless of the fact his son was bound to resemble his family.
  Eddie watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest with concern. Was he supposed to be breathing that fast? Was he okay? 
  “Which one is yours?”
  Eddie turned to peer over at the woman who’d asked him the question, “Munson.”
  Eddie watched as her gaze moved over all the incubators until they found the correct one.
  “Oh, he’s a cute one. And his breathing looks incredible.”
  “Really? It’s not too fast?” He asked, the worry in his voice obvious.
  “Considering it’s his first time pumping those lungs, I don’t think so, no. Looks like he’s breathing real good to me. Mine needs a little help.” She pointed through the glass to an incubator that housed a baby with a tube in its mouth as well as individual ones in each nostril unlike his son’s nasal cannula. Eddie felt horrible.
  “I’m sorry,” he tried to apologize but she waved him off, a smile still on her face. 
  “Don’t be, that’s all mine is here for. As soon as she figures out how to keep doing it on her own, she’ll be back with me and my wife.”
  Right on, Eddie thought. Before he could continue their conversation, a nurse knocked on the window.
  She gestured down to the baby, “Is he yours?”
  Wow, this glass must have been thin, he could hear her pretty good.
  For some reason, Eddie still assumed she couldn’t hear him and only nodded. She disappeared for a minute and emerged into the room through a large pair of doors. 
  “Would you like to hold him?”
  Eddie glanced at the other occupant and she gave him a nod of encouragement. 
  “Yeah,” he rasped out, turning to look at his son through the window once more, “Yeah, I would.”
  Eddie was nervous the entire time as she prepped him with instructions. While they were concerned about the hole in his son’s heart, he was well developed, had strong vitals, good reactions, even for thirty weeks. He was so good that had it not been for his heart, he probably would have been sent home at the same time as you, given your longer than average stay due to your c-section and preeclampsia.
  And when she placed him in his arms, the love he had for his son almost overwhelmed him. He couldn’t believe he almost denied himself this. 
  “Can I touch him?” He asked, after he’d stopped marveling at the small face—eyes still hidden—in his arms. 
  “Mhm, we’d encourage it. Babies, even born preterm, are still very much so human. He craves the contact, it might even encourage him.” 
  Eddie didn’t hesitate, fingers gently stroking over the soft fluff of hair on his son’s head. This close, he could see it all pushed towards the middle of his head, like a mohawk. His baby was already metal straight out of your womb, it made him chuckle. 
  The nurse stepped away to tend to another baby, giving him a little privacy. Eddie maneuvered his son so he was resting on his chest, little head pressed against the spot just over his heart.
  “Hi,” he whispered down to the baby in his arms, “I’m your dad.”
  Much to Eddie’s awe, the baby nuzzled his head against his chest, making him still. He didn’t know why, but he’d believed his son wouldn’t be able to move for some reason. It was nice to know he was wrong.
  “It’s nice to finally meet you, too,” he laughed, the sound soft, “I’ve been looking forward to it, you must have, too. You sure know how to make an entrance, huh? Couldn’t wait in your mom any longer?”
  Eddie ducked down to kiss his little head, lips remaining there as he moved to sit in one of the few chairs of the NICU. 
  “It’s okay, though. I’ve got you, daddy’s got you.” Even if the outcome wasn’t okay, right at that moment with his son in his arms, everything felt like it would be. And if his son needed encouragement, Eddie would give it to him. 
  “I’m sorry it took me so long to come find you, your mom had to talk some sense into me. She loves you a lot, you know? Probably jealous I’m down here and she isn’t, but only because she physically can’t just yet.”
  Eddie’s hand went to support the back of his head as he moved the baby down to hold in his hands, staring down at his little face. 
  “I’ll bring her down to see you again as soon as I can, though. So you gotta keep fighting, okay? I know things are hard for you right now, not as easy as the other babies in the hospital, but I know you can do it. I love you so much, your mom and I just want to take you home, so you gotta beat this, okay?”
  Eddie rocked his baby, gentle swaying motions as he pressed kiss after kiss to his head. 
  “I see you’ve made it down for a visit,”
  Eddie glanced up at the face of Dr. Houseman, she didn’t look as intimidating as she had when she’d first approached him in the waiting room.
  “Sorry to disturb you, but I’m very glad I caught you. I heard your wife is doing well.”
  “She is,” he confirmed, with a relieved grin. 
  “Good, I’m glad. Have you been given an update on your little guy?”
  Eddie recounted what the nurse had told him and Dr. Houseman looked pleased.
  “Well, I have more news for you. He’s proving to be much stronger than we’d initially anticipated, and while his vitals were already good on intake, they’ve improved tremendously in the last few hours and so have his responses. I think he’s figuring out what he’s capable of doing; how to breathe, how to move, how to eat—we introduced him to a rubber nipple to check his latch response and it’s good, not quite there yet, we’ll have to get creative with his feedings but I think he’ll be able to latch onto his mom soon.”
  She must have caught the way Eddie perked up at her use of the word soon. That meant his baby had a fighting chance.
  “These first few hours after a birth such as his and with his condition are crucial. While he’s still significantly weaker than an average full term newborn, your baby seems to be a fighter.  Should he survive this next night, I believe he’ll make it. He’d just need some time in here while the hole closes up, but it just might not be too much for him.”
  She left him with that news and a parting smile.
  Eddie held his son for a few more minutes before a nurse returned to put him back in his incubator. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, but he’d promised him he’d be back.
  When Eddie got back to the room, his heart was a little lighter and he was able to smile when he saw you giving Penny, who was now wide awake, kisses. He pressed his back up against the door and watched for a few moments as you leaned in and gave her a loud kiss. She’d go into a fit of giggles before demanding another with an again!
  “Daddy!” Penny beamed the moment she saw him and Eddie grinned as he made his way over, lifting her into his arms when she held hers up to him.
  “Hi, pretty one. You sleep good?” 
  “Uh-huh,” it was clear she was distracted and didn’t care about his questions, no, she had some of her own. “You see my baby?”
  Eddie raised an eyebrow, trading an amused look with you.
  “Oh, he’s your baby now?”
  “Ya, he’s—he’s my baby.” She nodded with a grin as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he leaned down to press his forehead to hers.
  “Well, then yes. I saw your baby,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her nose.
  “Wha’helooklike?” Penny blurted out, eyes wide as she waited for his reply. 
  “He looked a lot like you.” 
  “Nooooooo,” Penny laughed, shaking her head against her dad’s, “He is my potatoes, not anoda Penny.”
  “It’s true!” Eddie laughed with her as he put her back down by your side and leaned in to give you yet another—he’d never stop giving them to you—kiss.
  “He looks like her?” You asked, after you’d returned his kiss.
  “Mhm,” Eddie fell back into the seat he’d occupied hours earlier. “Looks like she did when she was a newborn. He’s not pale—like a potato,” he directed that part to Penny who just laughed into her little hands, “anymore, at least. I don’t know whose eyes he has, they were covered.”
  Eddie was right about you being jealous, you were practically green with it. 
  “I wish I could see him,” you stated sadly, frown on your lips. You knew, realistically, if he started to decline, they’d most likely let you out of bed to see him or bring him up to you, but still. You’d rather it not come to that.
  “Ran into his doctor while I was there, she said he’s got a better chance.”
  Your eyes lit up, “Really?”
  “I was just about ready to kiss her.” He nodded and you made a face, nose doing that adorable scrunch he loved so much.
  “Okay, well, don’t do that.”
  Eddie snickered, “It was a figure of speech, baby.”
  “I know, I’m just saying it on her behalf,”
  “On her behalf?” Eddie pouted, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
  “Yeah, I want to kiss her, too, but—uhm, Eds, you might need some sleep ‘cause—you’re hot, you really are, but you also look insane right now.”
  Eddie got up to make his way to the bathroom so he could see himself in the mirror, nearly jumping once he’d turned on the lights.
  His eyes were beyond bloodshot, his eye bags were dark and very apparent, his skin had an interesting almost gray like tinge to it and his hair was a wreck. Eddie looked like he belonged in a psych ward.
  “Jesus,” he shouted loud enough to be heard by you.
  “It’s okay, Eds. You’re still beautiful to me!”
  Eddie did end up sleeping. Turns out the chair he’d been sitting on was also a pull out bed. You insisted that he get some rest, and while he did, you changed Penny’s diaper and got some hospital room service for the two of you, you’d even picked something out on the menu for Eddie to eat once he woke up. 
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eddiesghxst · 11 months
Text
PRICE OF FAME (PART 7/12)
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AHHH HERE SHE IS, i hope you enjoyyy hehe <3
————
18+ — MINORS DNI
pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader
summary: you and eddie are back to square one...maybe
contains: enemies to lovers trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, some jealous!eddie, brotherhood, mentions of eddie's dad being shitty, mentions of a sick family member (reader's grandfather), flirting, and eddie being a sorry mf <3
word count: 4.2k
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Eddie very rarely finds the time to go to the studio by himself.
With the busy lifestyle he’s now adopted, he mostly gets his writing done on the road or when he can’t sleep. And Eddie can’t sleep tonight. He doesn’t want to sleep tonight. He can’t seem to find it in himself to give his body and mind the few hours of rest they plead for because Eddie— Eddie fucked up.
The studio is quiet— because nobody in their right mind comes to a recording studio at three in the morning— and Eddie begins to wonder why he even came here if he can’t write a single lyric. Every line that crosses his mind is too little, too much, too mundane— it’s all wrong. Everything is wrong, and Eddie wants to scream.
Eddie takes another hit of the burning cigarette, rubs his eyes in exhaustion, and places his used journal to the side in exchange for his guitar.
He sits on the couch, the quiet room filling out the whirlwind of unsaid words in Eddie’s mind. He strums a soft tune on the wooden instrument, eyes closed and legs propped up on the coffee table. It takes Eddie a few moments to open his eyes when he hears the door open, and he has to blink a few times to clear the fog of fatigue from his eyes. 
And Eddie doesn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes and scoff at the sight of Gareth.
He keeps the cigarette between his lips and goes back to plucking his guitar strings, ignoring the shuffling sound of Gareth walking over.
Gareth is quiet for a long time until he clears his throat, “This is good.”
Eddie opens his eyes again and glances over at the brown-haired boy. Eddie’s face pinches in confusion before Gareth raises the journal, and Eddie huffs out a laugh. “No, it’s not.”
Gareth shakes his head, “No, it really is. I like this line,” he points to Eddie’s messy handwriting. 
“It’s not going anywhere. I’ve been here for almost two hours.” Eddie brushes it off. 
Eddie resumes his peaceful strumming, and Gareth— Gareth just can’t let it go. Because he misses his best friend more than anything in the fucking world, and it hurts. This hurts. The quiet and the unsaid— it hurts.
“I’m sorry.”
And Eddie thinks, fuck, not now.
“Man—” “No, Eddie I… I fucked up.” And Eddie glances at Gareth because Gareth sounds… Gareth sounds like he’s on the verge of something, something that Eddie has rarely seen from his friend.
“I really fucked up, man. And you don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want you thinking I don’t regret it— because I do.” Gareth looks at Eddie. Clear eyes, so wide and full of what Eddie can only imagine to be sorrow. “I should’ve never done that to you, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have told her— especially because I hadn’t told you.”
And Eddie is so tired of being angry. He’s so tired of feeling the gaping and missing piece of his best friend— and sure, he wishes Gareth never went behind his back and fucked his ex, but he mostly just wishes things would return to normal.
Eddie is silent for a moment, and Gareth almost takes it as an answer, but Eddie finally says, “Did you really love her?”
If Gareth is shocked, he does an excellent job of not showing it. He only swallows and shifts in his seat, “I thought I did… I don’t know, maybe?”
He’s being careful, Eddie knows, and he can’t blame him for it.
“Do you still talk?” Eddie can’t help but ask because he needs to know. He needs to know so he can prepare himself for whatever bullshit he’ll go through later if he ever sees Chrissy again.
To Eddie’s relief, Gareth shakes his head, “No. Not since… no.”
Eddie nods and says nothing else while mindlessly playing his soft tune.
Gareth shifts beside him, glances down at the journal in his hands, and hums, “So… you gonna tell me who this is about?”
Eddie jokingly glares at Gareth and leans forward to set his guitar down. “S’nothing.”
“That’s a lie.” 
Eddie raises an eyebrow at his friend, and Gareth takes a deep breath. “Look, man,” he places the journal down, “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And Jeff said he saw you—” “That motherfucker.” Gareth softly laughs but shrugs either way.
Eddie drags a hand over his face and sighs, “I don’t know, it’s… complicated.”
Gareth hums, like he doesn’t believe Eddie, “All I’m saying is if you like her as much as I think you do,” he gestures to the journal, “Then you better act quick.”
And Eddie knows Gareth is right— which is annoying, but he thinks he needs to hear it now more than ever. 
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Eddie’s not sure when he closed his eyes and dozed off, but by the time he opened them, it was the next day, and Jeff was standing over him with a sly grin. Eddie’s face is twisted in morning confusion and annoyance at Jeff’s proximity, and something heavy is leaning on his side and— “I see you and Gare-bear have made up.” Jeff tips his head to the right of Eddie, and Eddie glances over to where he’s motioned to find Gareth fast asleep with his body leaned against Eddie’s side.
Eddie groans and grimaces as he turns his head, a painful pinch resting at the top of his spine as he shoves his hand against Gareth’s shoulder, voice dry and scratchy from sleep as he speaks, “Shut the fuck up.” 
Eddie’s arm tingles under the weight of Gareth, and he grunts, pushing harder at his shoulder, “Gareth, get off me, man; I can’t feel my fucking arm,” Eddie grumbles, shoving the boy off of him, grimacing when Gareth grunts in protest. 
Jeff snickers and looks around the room; sheets of paper are scattered across the coffee table, empty beer bottles are strewn on the floor, and a guitar with a busted string lies on the other couch. “Jesus, did I miss the party?” Jeff teases, kicking at an empty beer can as he walks over to the sheet of music on the soundboard, picking it up and glancing over the words.
“What’s this?” Jeff wonders aloud. Gareth opens an eye to see what Jeff is talking about and shifts in his seat as he answers, “Eddie’s apology to the journalist.”
Eddie wipes drool from his mouth as he sits up, leaning over to sift through the rubble for his pack of cigarettes, “Birdie.” He mumbles as he shoves a stick between his lips and lights the end. “Yeah, Birdie.” Gareth sleepily mumbles.
Jeff laughs as he reads over the half-assed written letter. “How drunk were you two shitheads?” He wonders, eyebrows raising at one particular sentence. “And what’d you do that made you finally realize you’re an asshole?” 
And Eddie thinks Jeff is asking a lot of questions right now, and Eddie doesn’t have the mental capacity to digest any of them. Gareth snickers beside Eddie, shaking his head with a shrug, moving through Eddie’s cloud of smoke to reach for a beer can, shaking it to see if there’s any drink left before sipping on whatever's there before speaking, “What didn’t he do?” He jokes.
Eddie kicks his heel into the brown-haired boy’s shin, ignoring the spew of curses Gareth sends his way. Jeff tosses the paper back onto the soundboard and turns to the two boys, “Does this have anything to do with her trying to drop the article?”
Gareth shrugs, uninterested in whatever Jeff is insinuating, but the question seems to wake Eddie up quicker than the slow-burning stick between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”
Jeff looks at Eddie as if he’s asked him what two plus two is, “You don’t know?”
Eddie tilts his head, a confused look on his face, irritation lingering on his tone, “Know what, Jeff?”
Jeff’s eyebrows raise, and he lifts his hands in surrender, “Look, Naomi and Birdie were talking at breakfast, and she told Naomi that she’s thinking of dropping the article.” “What do you mean dropping the article, Jeff?”
Jeff gazes at Eddie like he’s lost his mind, “Honestly, man, I don’t know why you’re freaking out when this is literally what you wanted ever since she came along.” He points out, calmly sitting in the desk chair by the soundboard. “I mean, yeah,” Eddie stresses, “But that was before— fuck,” Eddie rubs a hand over his face as he plops back into the plush couch with a heavy sigh. “Before?” Jeff wonders aloud.
“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie snaps.
Gareth snickers again, glancing at Eddie’s depleted state before glaring at Jeff, “Before Eddie fell in love.” He childishly giggles. Eddie glares at his friend, finally finding his shoes and hastily shoving them on, “I’m not in love with her, you fucking idiot,” He swats at Gareth, “I just…” Eddie glances between his two friends before sighing, rubbing his hands over his face again and resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s complicated, okay?”
“Didn’t seem that complicated when I walked in on you two.” Jeff points out, to which Gareth’s jaw drops as he turns to Eddie, “No fucking way. You boned the journalist?—” “Birdie.” “—And Jeff walked in on it? You didn’t tell me that last night!” He exclaims.
Eddie grimaces at Gareth’s words and the fact that he won’t just say your name because, for some weird and obnoxious reason, it pisses Eddie off. “Because it wasn’t like that.” Eddie shakes his head. Jeff makes a face, and Eddie rolls his eyes, “It wasn’t,” Eddie repeats, “Not that it’s any of you fucking losers' business.”
Eddie tries so hard not to seem distracted when they start working on their last song of the album. He tries to put his entire mind, body, and soul into the words and the chorus, but he can’t. Eddie’s mind is somewhere else, wasting away trying to find a way to say sorry and get you to change your mind about abandoning your project because, sure, Eddie’s an asshole when he wants to be, but he has some inkling of remorse and human feelings. He has the ability to feel sorry and know when he’s crossed a line, and clearly, Eddie is far beyond the line. 
Eddie’s stomach churns when he thinks about the last night: the look on your face and the tone of your voice, the unmistakable sniffle as you wiped away a stray tear. And Eddie really is a jackass, isn’t he?
Making a kind girl like you cry, telling her she’s ruined everything when all she’s done is stay true to her task. It’s Eddie who’s led you astray, who’s tempted you and poked and prodded until you cracked— and, god, Eddie feels sick to his stomach.
Eddie remembers how that feels. To be pushed and shoved to your breaking point, to where someone breaks you down to the point of giving up. Eddie knows that feeling so well; he dealt with it for so long as a kid before Wayne took him in. Eddie remembers how useless he would feel, how his father would tell him he was stupid and naive for thinking he could be something. And it’s difficult to ignore those harsh words when it’s repeated over and over in your ear, and Eddie can’t believe he let himself do that to you.
Eddie’s kind of frantic when he walks up to you at rehearsals.
He’s fidgety, and he’s aching for a cigarette, and his heart is racing in his chest because Eddie’s not the best at apologies, but he’s also not very fond of the idea of you not being here anymore. As much as Eddie hates to admit it, he likes you being here— because watching you, hearing you, and seeing how you move about a room is addicting. It’s a movie, a show that gets better with every episode, and Eddie has tried so hard to lie and say he can’t stand the show, but fuck, he’s hooked.
You look tired today, uncharacteristically quiet and reserved, making Eddie all the more nervous to break the slight trance you seem to be in. Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him when he approaches you in the backstage hallway, “Can we uh— can we talk?”
You don’t seem eager when he asks, and you don’t sound it either when your eyebrows furrow in distress, and you shake your head, “Honestly, Eddie, I’m not in the mood—” Eddie shakes his head, tone sincere and eyes holding no trace of mischief, “No, I promise it’s not…” Eddie trails off, and you raise your eyebrow, growing impatient with his hesitance.
“It’s about the magazine.” He rushes out. You look confused and unconvinced— and there’s so much going on in the background; staff calling out demands, crew members scrambling to get things done, and Eddie just can’t fucking think. “Well, it’s about you, but it’s also about the magazine— can we step outside?”
Eddie looks away in embarrassment because Eddie doesn’t get flustered very easily these days— there’s not much to get flustered over when you’ve seen it all— but again, Eddie doesn’t do this often— and his neck is heating up, and he knows his cheeks are turning an embarrassing shade of red because you’re looking at him like he’s the biggest idiot known to man.
Eddie drags in a steady breath, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and he grumbles lowly enough for you to hear, thumb brushing the tip of his nose once before speaking, “Come on, don’t make me beg.”
You scoff at that, arms crossing over your chest as you push past him and storm towards the exit, and Eddie follows with a shaky breath.
When Eddie steps out into the alleyway of the venue, you’re leaning against the wall with a deep frown etched across your lips, and Eddie’s fingers twitch for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. You glare at him, “What’s wrong with you?” You snap. Eddie looks at you silently for a moment, confusion written across his face as he speaks, “Huh?”
You glare as you speak, “You’re being weird.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and clears his throat, shifting on his feet before he starts, “Listen, I uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I know we don’t get along and shit but just…” Eddie ignores it when you roll your eyes, “Don’t drop the magazine because of me.”
You’re silent then, for much longer than Eddie would like you to be, and Eddie is thoroughly confused when you scoff, “Excuse me?”
Eddie stuffs his hands in his pockets and glances around the empty alleyway, “Look— believe it or not, we actually kind of need this, and the boys will fucking kill me if I screw it all up, so just… I’m sorry, okay?”
And technically, it’s the truth. It might not be the whole truth as to why Eddie has pulled you aside, but at least there’s some truth to it… right?
You don’t seem too appeased with Eddie’s half-assed apology, considering the way your face doesn't even flinch for what seems like decades. “Well, for starters, I’m not dropping out of the magazine,” and Eddie doesn’t want to unpack the reasoning behind why the tension in his shoulders eased, “And the only reason why I had even debated doing so is because my grandfather is sick, not because some douchebag artist pissed me off.” You snap.
Eddie feels like an ass.
No, he feels worse than an ass, whatever that may be. Eddie feels like he’ll maybe just go back to the hotel and sew his mouth shut because the one time that Eddie tries to fix things, his tongue flaps and spews out bullshit, and then he’s further in the ground than he was, to begin with.
Eddie’s not sure what to do or say because, honestly, he didn’t even think of the possibility that he’s not the reason for you dropping the magazine, and Eddie only then realizes how selfish of a mistake this was. “Can I be honest with you, Eddie?”
Even though you sound and look like you could stab him right now, Eddie thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. Your eyes are so alive beneath the light of day, and a gentle breeze carries your scent to wrap around Eddie in a dizzying manner. His heart races, and Eddie feels… small.
He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, like he’s damaged things to the point of no return, and it’s all his fault— and usually, it never actually was Eddie’s fault, but this… Eddie can wholeheartedly admit he’s at fault for the agitated look you’re giving him— and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. 
Still, Eddie nods— because what else can he do?
“I think we should keep the one-on-ones to a minimum. Better yet, let’s just stop it as a whole.”
“What?”
You take a deep breath, gaze dancing away, seemingly anxious to flee the scene as you speak, “I don’t think this is benefiting either of us— this back and forth. I have work to get done, and honestly, there’s nothing more that I need from you aside from when I interview the band as a group— and seeing as you hate me and I hate you, why don’t we just make our lives easier and stay out of each other's way?”
This isn’t how Eddie imagined things going.
Eddie imagined he would say sorry, and you would give him a pretty smile, and things would go back to… well, not normal, but perhaps something a little better than normal. This is worse than normal. This is so left field of what Eddie had imagined, and Eddie can’t bring himself to say anything.
So, instead, Eddie nods, mumbles a quick agreement, and says nothing more as you leave.
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Days pass slower than usual, and you find ways to get busy outside of drafting the magazine. You take frequent walks in Central Park to clear your mind and spend many nights talking to your family over the phone.
Your grandfather is old, and it’s no surprise to the family that he’ll soon see the end of his days, but your mom immediately told you no when you said you would be coming home after getting word of his current state. You weren’t particularly close to your grandfather; you really only saw him once a year around holidays, but you felt the need to be there for your mother, to offer her a shoulder to cry on. However, your mother, ever the sweet lady she is, insisted she would be more than okay with the support of your father and younger sister and demanded that you stay in New York to finish your project.
Still, even though you called home every night, you felt the distance with each goodbye. It ached to be so far from your family at such a time, but the world won’t stop just for you, and time is of the essence in your line of work.
Despite the somewhat gloomy past days you’ve had, each show has given you a moment to breathe and take your mind off the stresses of life. There are two shows of the residency left now, and the boys of Corroded Coffin seem more pumped than ever for the two big nights.
You usually spend time before the show loitering in the green room or waiting out in the crowd, but today, you’ve chosen to have front-row tickets to the chaos that is Corroded Coffin’s dressing room.
There’s a thick fog of smoke dancing through the room; tobacco, weed, and alcohol drenching the walls with their smell as the boys and crew members share drinks and blunts and jokes. You, Jeff, Gareth, and James are gathered in front of the vanity— away from most of the chaos to enjoy light conversation— with Jeff and James sitting in the tall vanity chairs while you and Gareth stand between them both.
“I think we should play something off the new record tonight,” Jeff suggests. Gareth, who’s busy messing with his hair in the mirror, finds the time to respond, “I kind of wanted to do something old. Maybe even a cover?”
James raises an eyebrow, reaching forward onto the vanity desk for a black eyeliner pencil, “You guys are on in like fifteen, man. The stage crew is not gonna be happy about that.” James points out, inspecting the small item before popping the cap off. Gareth snickers as James attempts to apply the eyeliner, “When are they ever happy? Poor guys have to put up with our bullshit every day.”
Naomi comes to stand behind Jeff, draping her arms around his shoulders and resting her chin atop his head. Jeff smirks at her through the mirror, and she smiles, “You agree, right? We should play something new tonight?” Jeff asks his girlfriend, to which she shrugs and glances at both band members, “I don’t see why not. It’s the second to last show, and I’m sure the fans would love it.”
You look over to James as he curses to himself when the pencil tip breaks off. You snicker, not thinking twice, when you step forward to place a hand on his shoulder, “You’re pressing too hard.” You mumble as you gently grab the pencil from him. James watches as you turn to grab the pencil sharpener, shaving off the empty end of the stick until you can see the soft pencil again, “Aw, you’re gonna help me out?” He presses a hand to his chest as you roll your eyes. Whatever conversation Jeff, Gareth, and Naomi are having, you pay no mind to it anymore. “Shut up, take a seat.” You nod to the vanity chair.
James takes a seat, and you shake your head as you step forward, tipping his head back for a good angle as you say, “Remind me again how you’re an artist and still don’t know how to apply eyeliner correctly?” You mumble as you begin softly applying the makeup to his bottom lashline. James smirks, “I can’t be good at everything.” He jokes. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Just look up at the ceiling, please.”
And in the corner of your eye, you catch him— Eddie.
He’s watching you and James with the sharpest gaze you’ve ever seen— angry and daring, and it only falters when you turn to look at him. You don’t know why, but your heart seems to rise to your throat, and there is an annoying twist in your stomach when you see how his jaw ticks in anger. You don’t notice it until Eddie’s gaze flickers down, and you suddenly feel the warm heat of James' hand pressed against your waist. 
Your body heats at the attention, and you shy away from Eddie’s accusing gaze, returning to your task. Your eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as you apply the makeup, and you try desperately hard to ignore the way James is gazing up at you or the gentle squeezes he gives you when you shift. What’s even harder to ignore is the hole Eddie is burning through your head— and god, why do you feel like this?
Why do you, for some odd reason, wish it was Eddie beneath you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s hands touching you? Why do you wish Eddie’s brown eyes were gazing at you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s warm skin beneath your fingertips?
Your body and heart want Eddie for selfish reasons, but deep down, you and Eddie both know it’s best not to venture down the short path you’d started. But that doesn’t mean you don’t think about it. That doesn’t mean you don’t think about what it would be like to have Eddie in all the sinful ways you’d both tasted.
You don’t hear James the first time, but your attention snaps back to him when he gently squeezes your hip, “Huh?” You blink.
James chuckles as you pause your task and gaze down at him. His gaze dances all around your face for a moment, pearly white teeth digging into his smile before he speaks again, “What are you doing tonight after the show?”
And god, why the fuck is James looking at you like that?
You shrug, “Um, I— I don’t know why?” You ask, finishing the last few touches on his makeup. James shrugs, watching as you stand up straight and put the cap back onto the pencil, “I was thinking maybe I can take you out? Like a date?”
You almost choke at that. Your eyes are wide as you blink at James, heart racing and mind a whirlwind of thoughts— and Eddie is still watching you.
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, Richie bursts through the door with a grin and an exclamation of two words.
Show time.
————
part eight
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a/n: ANNNDDD HERE WE ARE, if you've made it to the end and see this, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate any for of feedback, i love to here ur funny, sweet, and smutty thots <3 ALSO A BIG THANK YOU TO @siennamagee FOR THE IDEA OF THE SCENE WITH JAMES, ILY STINK <3 LET THE GROVELING BEGIN !!
————
cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2
@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner
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munson-blurbs · 11 months
Note
Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart's honeymoon 🥹🥹🥹
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The way I ran to Google Docs to write this, not just because I love me some fluffy smut, but also because I love you.
Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Summary: Relaxing on the beach, giving your new husband a sexy surprise...what more can you ask for?
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), p in v, breeding kink (of course), Ms. Sweetheart/Reader wears lingerie
WC: 1.1k
A/N: Big thank you and smoochy kisses to @jo-harrington for helping me make this piece body-inclusive, and to @corroded-hellfire for ensuring the breeding kink was on point.
August 1998
“What a day.” Eddie flops onto the king-size bed face first, still in his wet swim trunks. Sand sticks to the bottom of his feet; you swear he’s traipsed in half the beach. “Who knew lounging in the sun could be so exhausting? I don’t know how we’re gonna go back to our normal lives.” He flips over onto his back so his words are no longer muffled. “Like, my body might be back in Hawkins, but my mind will be in Myrtle Beach.”
You laugh, arms crossed over your chest and pressed against the thin fabric of your cover-up. “Can you drag yourself into the shower and wash off?” When he doesn’t move, you let your fingertips dance along the sole of his foot. He giggles maniacally and reflexively, drawing inwards. 
“Dammit, okay, okay!” He shakes his head and pushes himself up to an upright position. “The things you do to get me naked…”
“Mhm.” You roll your eyes dismissively as though his suggestion is absurd—even though that’s exactly what you’re trying to do. 
As soon as you hear the squeak of the spigot and the ensuing stream of water, you unzip your suitcase and rifle through until you find what you’re looking for. You feel it before you see it, fingers grasping the lacy fabric triumphantly. 
You shed the flower-printed cover-up, catching a glimpse in the mirror of yourself in your swimsuit. Eddie had picked it out for you—a one-piece that hugged you in all the right places. Truthfully, you could wear this and it would turn him on, but this is your honeymoon, and you want it to be special. 
Peeling off the damp suit, you toss it aside; it lands on the floor with a comical thwack, and you make a mental note to pick it up later. 
The teddy you’d bought weeks ago suddenly looks daunting, purchased during a trip to the mall with Jess. She’d insisted that no honeymoon is complete without some lingerie, and you’d reluctantly given in after she’d assured you multiple times that Eddie would, quote, “lose his goddamn mind.”
Soft black cups perfectly hold your breasts in place, accentuating your decolletage. The sheer mesh covering your torso is embroidered with lace roses, leaving just enough to the imagination. 
All right, you can admit it—you look good. 
You lounge on the small sofa that faces the bathroom, adjusting the bodysuit’s thin straps as you wait for the steadily falling water to cease, punctuated by several rogue drops. Your heart leaps with excitement as you hear the door knob twist and you’re bathed in a plume of steamy air. 
“Surprised you didn’t try to join—holy hell.” Eddie exhales with a grin, taking in your scantily-clad body. A white towel is slung low on his hips, sopping up the water trickling from his curls. “Where did you get this little number, baby?”
Heat creeps into your cheeks as he saunters toward you, one hand finding the small of your back while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in and kisses you hungrily, his burgeoning erection pressing against your bare thigh.
“Got me all worked up just by looking at you, Mrs. Munson,” he murmurs into your lips. It sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine as he deepens his embrace, pulling you as close as he possibly can.
Your fingers dip beneath the towel, tugging it from where it’s tucked along his waist and letting it drop. He’s fully exposed, and it takes all of your willpower to keep up this game of seduction and refrain from kissing down his happy trail.
“Since you’re so tired tonight, baby,” you coo, nipping at his earlobe as you speak, “I figured I could take care of you.” Your palms journey the expanse of his chest, draping them over his shoulders and guiding him onto the bed. The fresh bed sheets are crisp underneath your knees as you straddle him, grinding your core against his. “‘S that okay?”
Eddie nods, letting out an incredulous breath. “Course, yeah, whatever you want…” He sits up slightly, mouth drawn to your breasts as though pulled by a magnet. 
“I want you,” you tell him, sucking bruises into his neck that you hope will last until you return home. “I want you inside me, filling me up, making me feel so, so good…”
The fabric between your thighs is already soaked with proof of your desire, and you shift it over so you can sink down onto his hardened length. You take him inch by inch, the tip breaching your hole and stretching you in its delicious, familiar way.
“Oh, my god,” you whimper, bringing his hands to the flesh of your ass and giving your movements more stability. Each rock of your hips draws a moan from your husband’s plush lips, his tongue darting out to wet them every so often. “Eddie, oh, my god!”
His grip on your ass tightens as you clench around him and continue to bounce. “‘M close,” he grunts, breath hitching as he begins slamming up into you to chase his release. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight…can’t hold back any more…” He speaks through gritted teeth, purely animalistic in nature. 
Your middle finger finds your clit, rubbing small circles into it. The small movements drive both you and Eddie absolutely wild. 
“Thassit…touch yourself for me,” he groans, barely audible above the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin and the way you’re drenching him right now. “You look so goddamn perfect like this, filled to the brim with my cock.”
“Wanna be filled with your cum, too,” you whine, feeling the beginnings of your own orgasm. “Wanna take all your cum, Eddie, like a good little wife.”
Eddie’s eyes practically roll back in his head. “My good little wife, all barefoot and pregnant…fuckfuckfuck…takeittakeittakeit.” With a final few thrusts, he spills into you with everything he has. His grasp loosens as he softly kisses your arms, desperate to remain close to you in any way possible. 
“So,” you start with a giggle, gently moving off of him so you can cuddle into his perspiration-slick chest, “looks like you got a second wind.”
He tilts your chin up, his eyes studying your face like a precious gemstone. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll get a third, okay, Sweetheart?” He winks, thumb gliding up and down your jawline. “Keep that sexy outfit on f’me, though. I’m not done with either of you.”
--
689 notes · View notes
luveline · 2 years
Note
could you maybe write struggling single dad!eddie? ily!!! 😘
love you! hope this is okay :D I did girl dad!eddie because ♡ fem!reader
Juggling car keys, a brown paper bag of groceries and a toddler that refuses to be put down today is not easy. And she's not always like this, Roan's usually a sweet (if quiet) girl who makes Eddie's life as easy as she can. A blessing, he thanks God or whoever for her everyday, but lately she's been clingy as climbing ivy.
"Babe," he says, stress seeping into the pet name and making it more chiding than he means, "could you relax?"
She glares at him. She's a mirror.
"You're being so mean to daddy today, you know that?"
She ignores him, small hands in the collar of his last nice work shirt and pulling. He can't stop her from stretching it out, doesn't have a hand free to pull her away and the shitty cruiser he swapped his beloved van for is still locked up tight.
"Baby, stop!" he scolds.
She looks like she might have a tantrum if she could. Roan pulls her hands away but starts to grizzle, a sniffle that turns loud that turns to full blown tears. He can't tell if they're crocodile tears or not. He feels awful anyhow.
Roan brings a hand up to slap his shoulder. Her fingers get caught in the fabric of his collar and she tugs to get free, jabbing herself in the eye with the back of her hand.
Her resulting cry is awful. Real, heart-hurting, Eddie forgets to be mad and starts shushing her gently. He presses his back sweaty with exertion against the cold window of the back seat door and pulls her in as close as he can.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he says softly.
She shrieks and hits the grocery bag. It topples. The groceries go everywhere. An orange rolls into the parking lot.
"Roan," he complains, defeated.
Patience, he thinks to himself desperately. Patience. She doesn't mean to.
He can't afford stuff like this. The time it takes to do simple things like get groceries feels expensive enough — he could be pressing Roan's clothes right now, or swapping out that cracked neck on the black Gibson so he can finally get paid for it, or fuck, he could be smoking a goddamn cigarette.
He sets her down. She screams bloody murder but he doesn't have a choice. He has to chase down the dispersed groceries desperately, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
Being a parent has made him hyper aware of other people's judgmental looks. He can feel eyes now on the top of his head and Eddie knows it's that cruel looking blonde woman from the cold cuts aisle who'd tried to lecture him on processed ham.
He picks his head up, words already rehearsed in his head. Lady, if you don't leave me alone I swear to fuck I'm gonna feed her nothing but TV dinners for the rest of her life. She's gonna be a junk food baby and you'll have no one to blame but yourself.
Only It's not the lady. It's a girl.
You wither under his fierce scowl and offer the two oranges in your hand to him unsurely.
"Sorry," you say, shifting forward a half step. "They rolled my way."
He accepts the oranges without talking, which is rude, so rude, but his heads already decided the order of things before his mouth can catch up. Shove the groceries in the bag. Put the bag on the floor. Pick up his kid. Help her calm down.
He hikes Roan onto his hip, rubs her back, and says, "God, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
You visibly relax. Eddie's surprised you didn't turn tail and run.
"Yeah? Do I have a doppelganger?" you ask. You smile in this way that's totally your own, Eddie's never seen someone grin like that before. Maybe a little shy and the shyness is making you awkward, teeth peeking out, you're pretty.
He's shocked at the thought. She's pretty.
Years of womanising (with varying success) kicks in.
"No, God no. She wasn't nearly as pretty as you are, sweetheart."
Roan seems to realise that she's not the object of his whole affection and pulls on his hair. Eddie let's his head yank to the side with a hiss and then a rueful smile. The world skews. You follow his head movement with your own.
"Is that so? I guess you'd know all about pretty," you say, head dipped to your shoulder.
Eddie gets super excited thinking he's actually managed to pull this one off (a fucking impossibility).
You hold your hand out hesitantly and wave. He realises you had not been talking about him.
"You- Oh, yeah. She's lovely, isn't she?"
You beam. "'Lovely,'" you quote. "That's a nice word." Your attention slides to Roan. She basks in it. "Hey, baby. You're just something else, aren't you? You know! You know how pretty you are, don't go shy on me."
Roan goes smiley. Chubby cheeks full of colour, she grins and pulls her dark curls in front of her face. Like father, like daughter.
"What's her name?" you ask.
"Roan. I'm Eddie."
You introduce yourself, bent just slightly to talk directly to Roan. You offer your hand.
When Roan takes it, you shake her tiny hand gently and then rub your thumb over her fingers. "Nice to meet you, princess."
"Hi," she says slowly.
You give her hand a small squeeze and then take a step back, arms moving behind you. "God, she's a pretty baby. And she looks so much like you."
"Yeah?" he asks warmly.
You realise what you've said with a look like you've been struck. After a second, you blink and laugh self-consciously. "Well. It's true."
He's out of the game. He's miles away from the game. But if he doesn't ask you for coffee that's gotta be self sabotage, right? Eddie's trying to find the words when you take a strange breath.
"Listen, I've seen you around and- I know this is weird. Sorry, but you really are- God. Sorry, but do you wanna get coffee? Sometime?" you ask, clunky and awkward.
Eddie's enamoured. He forgets to answer because he can't believe his luck and you take it for something different, adding, "Or not coffee? What does the little lady like?"
He must smile wide enough to split his lip. "Chocolate, mostly."
"Like cake and stuff?"
"Loves it."
You nibble at the inside of your lip as you pull your bag around to your thigh and search inside for a pen. You pull out a leaflet, a Save The Children Pamphlet they pass around outside of the mall and wince as you tear a corner.
He watches you write down your number on the hood of his car. You do it quick, pass it to him quicker.
"You can just call me, let me know when you're free."
"I'm free when you are," he says like a loser. It's not even remotely true. Eddie's never free, but for you he's gonna make it happen.
"How about Thursday?"
Eddie nods. Roan slips down his side and looks between you both like she's watching a tennis match.
"Yeah, Thursday is perfect."
You smile. Eddie takes it all in, everything, your smile and your hair and your clothes and the way your fingers pull at one another. He can't believe you're the nervous one right now. His heart spins like a top in his chest.
"I'm sorry to ask you out and jet, but there's somewhere I gotta be," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic.
"No, of course-"
"But I'll see you on Thrusday. Outside of, um, Morgan's Desserts?"
"Sure, but-"
"Yeah?" you ask.
"I can bring Roan?" he asks.
Your expression softens. "Please. If you don't I'm gonna stand you up."
He laughs abruptly, a shock of it like a firecracker in his chest.
You move like you might leave but then pick up his grocery bag and pass it back it to him. "Bye, princess," you pause to say, looking melted by his daughter's puppy dog eyes, if he does say so himself.
"Bye," she says sweetly.
You nod at him. He nods back.
"Thursday," he calls at your retreating figure. You know, to make sure.
You shoot him a smile over your shoulder.
Roan turns in his hold to stare at his face.
"What?" he asks her.
"Chocolate?" she questions.
"Heard that, did you?" he mutters.
-
more eddie and roan
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chronicowboy · 6 months
Text
but when i tried to love him i loved at the wrong time
this is a two for one spec inspired by this post and my long lost love trapped dads
any complaints about this fic can and should be directed to @evankinard who bullied me into writing this for her after i ruined her day with a single dm. love you bby <3
Eddie breaks apart a little the moment Buck disappears from view, lets himself feel the wound in his side as an excuse not to feel the big unwieldy thing unfolding in his chest like a colonising panic. He hadn't wanted to leave him, not after half an hour trapped in that smoky room clinging to each other to ground themselves in the reality they were trapped in, but Buck had made several stubborn and convincing arguments about Christopher before announcing he wouldn't move if Eddie didn't. Eddie had tried, had tried to get Buck out first, Buck who had just found happiness with—with Tommy, Buck who has always deserved to live. But Hen and Chim had come in with the clinical wisdom of paramedics and said a rebar through the abdomen was always going to take priority over a fractured leg.
Now, Eddie is rolled out of a collapsing building, leaving behind Buck—a bird with a broken wing, incapable of moving.
God, the noises Buck had made when he'd dragged himself over to Eddie's side. They'll be haunting him for years, for whatever lifetime he has left. Worse somehow than the first time with an entire engine on top of him. Except this time, Eddie couldn't hold his hand. Not now, but not before either because... Because that was someone else's job now. And like a laugh from the universe, Tommy appears just as Eddie reaches down to put the brakes on the gurney before Hen and Chim can get him into the ambulance.
"Kinard?" Bobby greets him with a grim-faced nod. "What are you doing here?"
"Heard you might need an assist from air support." He shrugs, but the breathlessness in the voice and the way his eyes keep jumping around the gathered 118 like he's only counting the one man not there reveals his nonchalance as the act it is. "Thought I'd swing by."
"Isn't that a conflict of interest?" Chimney asks.
"Fine, so I stole a helicopter again. Sue me for wanting to offer a hand." Tommy's face draws as soon as he stops speaking, and he glances back at the building waiting to swallow Eddie's heart whole. "How is he?"
"Holding in there," Eddie answers, voice tight enough to have Tommy really seeing him for the first time. "Think his bad leg is fractured."
"Shit," Tommy hisses, clenching his fists at his side.
"Yeah," Eddie breathes out. "Can't get himself out because of it. I wouldn't have left him, but—"
"He insisted," Tommy says, something entirely too knowing in his voice and his eyes. Eddie swallows thickly.
"And, well..." He gestures weakly to the rebar in his side, Buck's undershirt, now soaked through with Eddie's blood, wrapped around it as a makeshift bandage.
"Shit, Diaz." Tommy grimaces. "Shouldn't you be getting to the hospital?"
"He's refusing care until Buck is out too," Hen deadpans, pressing a new pad of gauze to his wound a little too firmly for it not to be intentional. Eddie just grits his teeth.
"Of course he is," Tommy murmurs. Eddie is too much of a coward to face up to whatever expression is on Tommy's face when he says it, so instead he focuses on the Incident Commander approaching Bobby.
"Site's been deemed too unstable," he announces. "No more personnel are to enter until we've found a way to stabilise it."
"My..." Bobby calms himself when his voice comes out in a growl. "My man is in there."
"And sending another man in there would be a suicide mission." The Incident Commander grimaces apologetically. "Sorry, Captain. That's an order."
Bobby turns his gaze back to the building, something so tightly drawn in him that it makes Eddie hurt all the worse. He knows without a shadow of a doubt what Bobby's thinking. He can't lose another son to a burning building.
And here, maybe this would be where Eddie runs back into the building and drags Buck out all on his own, maybe this would be where he finally gets to repay the favour for the gravel burn on his back, maybe this is where he'd get to redeem himself from the helplessness he'd felt just lowering Buck down to the ground. Except. There's a rebar in his side. Even with the adrenaline, even with the love... Eddie doesn't think he'd make it three steps before falling to his knees—a prayer in and of itself.
Instead, Eddie turns to look at Tommy. Tommy who is already looking at him, something determined and understanding and loving trapped behind the wildness of his eyes. A beat passes between them, silence saying more than they ever could.
"Bring him back to—" Me. But. Not to me.
Because that's not Eddie's place anymore. Eddie doesn't get to ask that of Buck's boyfriend. Eddie doesn't get to ask that at all. He's no longer the person that will be shaking Buck's pain pills into his hand and fetching him a bottle of water. He's no longer the person that will be wrapping Buck's cast in a bin bag for a shower and listening to him lament about the indignity of it. He's no longer the person that will be pulling Buck out of bed on his worst days to remind him that he's real and valued and loved. No, that's not his job anymore. But, fuck, Tommy's the only better man for the job.
"Bring him back to us," Eddie tells him then, and it feels like he's finally let go of the baton in the relay race, sure Tommy's got a hold of it now. And Tommy looks as wrongfooted by this as Eddie feels, but he nods anyway and grabs Eddie's discarded helmet from his lap, strapping it on.
"Kinard, no one goes in," Bobby warns him. "That's an order."
"You're not my captain anymore." Tommy only smiles and shrugs before sprinting towards the doors.
Bobby curses, but there's relief in it. Hen and Chim just watch him go with something hopeful on their faces. And Eddie. Eddie's eyes start to droop.
"Hey, hey, Eddie." Chim snaps his fingers in front of his face, jolting Eddie back into semi-consciousness.
"Eddie, we need to get you to a hospital," Hen says calmly, reaching for the brakes.
"Move me an inch and I rip this rebar out of my side," he says lowly.
"Jesus, anyone ever tell you you're a drama queen?" Chim huffs.
"Yeah." Eddie chokes on his next breath a little. "The man trapped in that building."
A solemn silence settles over them then. They redirect their attention to the doors Tommy had disappeared into, and Hen lays a grounding hand on his shoulder as they wait.
It's not long before Tommy comes stumbling out of the building, looking every bit the action hero Eddie has never gotten to be for Buck what with his soot-stained face and Buck himself slung over his shoulder, splinted leg bouncing against his sternum. Hen and Bobby spring into action immediately, racing to meet them. Chim just unlocks Eddie's gurney and loads him into the ambulance, raising him up just enough to catch a perfect view of Tommy lowering Buck onto his own stretcher with a kiss to his forehead. The ambulance doors close, Chim knocks twice, the sirens begin to whine, and they lurch into motion.
"Did you draw the drama queen straw?" Eddie asks to distract himself from the tenderness of Tommy's kiss.
"Higher ups are a little more serious about conflicts of interest now Buck is officially my brother-in-law," Chim mumbles as he works on getting Eddie's IV in. "But also I'm better acquainted with rebars than Hen, so..."
Eddie huffs a weak laugh as his eyes drift to the ceiling, the clean white of it stinging his eyes.
"Chim?"
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone, right?" he chokes out. He doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling, but the sudden silence in the ambulance is as deafening as the siren overhead.
"No," Chim says eventually. "No, it's not."
"But what happens if the person you love..." Here, his voice breaks. An almighty crack right through the middle. It sounds like the building behind them just came crumbling down in his throat. "What happens if someone told them first?" He turns to face Chim's wide eyes. "Should you still tell them?"
"I-I don't know..." Chim opens his mouth a few times, a fish out of water, before he makes a decision. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. "But what I do know is." He clears his throat. "If you let a wound like that fester... It'll kill you, Eddie."
"Yeah." Eddie lets his eyes fall shut.
I can feel it already.
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wheneverfeasible · 24 days
Text
🧠 🪱 WIGGLY WEDNESDAY 🪱 🧠
Thanks for the tag @stervrucht ! Ended up writing this on my lunch and hiding in the back at work lmaoooo
Because today I’m thinking about…children’s entertainer Eddie Munson and single parent Steve Harrington…
-
This is definitely a modern au. Eddie did the whole band thing in high school, and they still get together and play in bars and occasionally at events and things, but now Eddie’s music is…different.
Like…think Johnny Karate different.
Except he’s still Eddie. He still dresses in darker clothing, still keeps the metal influence in his music, it’s just all kid appropriate nowadays. He sings songs that are inspired by DnD and fantasy novels he loved growing up, like The Hobbit and The Last Unicorn. He even has a couple children’s books out based on his songs and stories. (His buddy Jeff illustrates them.)
Now, Eddie’s biggest fan happens to be Dustin Henderson, the young friend of single parent Steve Harrington. Dustin is actually a fan of Corroded Coffin as well, which is how he learned of Eddie’s children entertainment persona, The Freak (so named to show kids it’s good to be different), who sometimes dresses up like a court jester, especially when working a kid’s birthday party, crowning the kid as king or queen or anything else their little heart desires.
Steve has two little kids, twins, a boy and a girl. Their fifth birthday is coming up and Dustin convinces Steve to hire Eddie. After much heeing and hawing, Steve finally agrees, if only because Dustin gets the kids to whine about it too, and Steve honestly can’t say no to any of kids, even the ones that are only fiveish years younger than him.
Eddie comes, dressed in his understated jester costume, and the kids absolutely adore him. He all but beams when the boy staunchly proclaims he wants to be a princess, not a prince, and the little girl decides she wants to be a goblin. But a good one. Eddie grins and tells her to watch out for enchanted crystals.
The kids then decide that if the boy is a princess, then that makes their dad the king, and Eddie grins even wider and flourishes an adult size crown for just this sort of occasion. After a lot of complaining about his hair, Steve finally agrees to wear the crown, feeling oddly flushed when Eddie gets close enough to set it on top his head.
“Don’t worry, darling, I won’t mess your hair up too badly. Not until you ask me too,” he whispers just for Steve to hear and winks, even as he quickly jumps away because rule number one is never flirt with a parent when he’s on a job. Something about the single dad is just a little too much for Eddie’s self-restraint, however. Both are blushing.
The rest of the party goes on well, he even gets most of the adults to join in on the ridiculous and repetitive titles, and maybe he showboats a little with his guitar riffs, but Steve’s eyes have barely left him the entire time, and only then when he needed to keep his eyes on the kids.
Eddie is paid and leaves, like he’s supposed to, though not without giving out his business card to some of the other attending parents who want to hire him as well for their own kids’ birthday parties. All in all, a successful night. He gives one last glance at Steve and then he’s gone.
Time passes, yeah? Steve can’t stop thinking about Eddie. Eddie can’t stop thinking about Steve. They both think that’s the end of it.
And then Dustin, matchmaker extraordinaire who clocked that shit immediately because Steve hasn’t looked at anyone since the kids, convinces Steve to go to a bar with him where a live band is playing.
The band?
Why, what else but Corroded Coffin.
And the lead guitarist? Well he just happens to look beautifully familiar.
-
rip fartbuckle
-
Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus
No pressure tags: @scoops-aboy86 @endlessmusings1801 @steddieassheg0es @steddiecameraroll @fkinkindagauche (if you’ve already been tagged and posted before, let me know so I can read your stuff!)
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ashwhowrites · 15 days
Note
Just found all your wonderful angst fics and honestly I feel like there is a distinct lack of HURTS SO GOOD angst out there. So I am DE-LIGH-TED to have found you. Thank you for your words and your writing. ❤️
But I have a request because of course I do! Eddie Munson!
So: angst: 30, 32 and then fluff: 16 and angry confessions 9 (except if I may be extra needy and request that we change the her in 30 to a them? Twins. One boy and the other authors choice.)
The idea: Eddie and reader started dating at Hawkins High and about a year or two after graduating someone from a label hears the band and wants an EP recorded in an actual studio! The band travels to the nearest studio.
When Eddie returns he tells reader that his dream is coming true the label is ready to sign them and they want them to start touring this year and opening for bigger bands to get their name out.
Reader overhears Eddie talking with the label guy. Eddie wants to bring reader on the tour and label guy shuts it down and says ‘end the relationship so you can actually enjoy the fame.’ He asks if Eddie is gonna marry reader and Eddie gets nervous and says idk, reader is hurt by that. Label guy asks if they have kids and Eddie is a little too enthusiastic in saying no and he doesn’t know if he wants kids. (Insecure about what kind of dad he’d be) and label guy tells Eddie this tour will make or beak his future and he needs no distractions. And a girl back home? Distracting.
Reader is then horrified that she’ll ruin Eddie’s dream. She breaks up with him before the tour, hiding the real reason. She wants him to have his dream even if it kills hers. Eddie leaves on tour mad and heartbroken.
Reader finds out she is pregnant after Eddie leaves. The band is supposed to come back to Hawkins after a few months on tour. Eddie promised he and reader would talk more about their relationship and reader will tell him then.
The band is insanely successful on tour. Eddie doesn’t come back. Doesn’t answer calls, letters. Reader stops trying after a year.
The twins are around five when Eddie, now a known rockstar, returns to his hometown. Meet-cute of adorable twins and Eddie occurs.
You ARE the father!
Eddie and reader talk/fight. But happy ending when all is said and done, back together and a family.
Sorry this is so long but ily and your writing❤️❤️❤️
I hope this is what you wanted and thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻 I did only pick the two you resent, thank you for that! I feel like this fic is a bit all over the place but I think I included everything you asked 🤞🏻
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I just sent that long request and I’m so sorry I didn’t see the no more than two limit on the prompt list link. Please feel free to shorten those to angst 30 and fluff 16 Thank you.
"There's not a single reason I can't think of for me to let you see her. You may be her father, but I'm her everything"
"I never thought I could miss someone this much"
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"Baby you will not believe what just happened!" Eddie said as he came rushing out from the backroom. He was drenched in sweat, as he finished his set with the band.
"What?" Y/N asked, she pushed back his sweaty bangs and his hands landed on her hips
"This dude from some label liked our set! He wants us to visit his studio and perform a few songs. Then if he likes it, he'll sign us!" Y/N smiled as her boyfriend's eyes were bright with happiness. His smile was so huge and his voice was loud.
"That's amazing, oh my god!" She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a hug. She didn't mind the sweat, she had been with Eddie for years and grew used to it.
The next day Y/N waited in their small apartment as Eddie attended the studio. She paced through their carpet as she stared at the door. She was so nervous for him, this could be his big break. And if he didn't get it, she wasn't sure how he would handle it.
She ran to the door as she heard the lock turn, giving him no time to walk into the house when she raced out all her questions. He smiled as her mouth ran until she almost lost breath, he leaned in and pecked her lips.
"Good?" he asked, a small chuckle leaving his lips
"Yeah, sorry," she said as she took in as much air as she could. She let him through the door and waited for him to speak. He closed the door and turned to her with a smirk.
"Well?" she asked, smacking his arm as she bounced on her feet
"Want to have sex with a newly signed rockstar?" he asked, opening his arms as he knew his girlfriend too well.
"OH MY GOD!" she screamed with excitement, throwing herself in his arms. She was practically jumping in his arms. He was damn excited too, and his heart felt full of how happy she was for him. He never would have made it without her.
"And! He wants us to tour next month, open for some other bands of his to get our name out there!"
Y/N pulled back to see his face but stayed in his arms.
"Next month? For how long?" she asked. She was happy this was going to happen for him, but she was sad at how fast he would be yanked from her.
"Just a few months, less than a year. But I promise I'm not leaving you behind, okay?" she smiled at his words, nodding as she softly placed her lips on his.
"Shall we celebrate Mr. Rockstar?" she whispered against his lips, teasing him as she bit his lower lip. "In the bedroom."
"I think I wanna celebrate right here," Eddie growled, wasting no time as he smashed his lips on hers and tasted her mouth with his tongue. He pressed her body against the door and was fast to unbuckle his jeans.
~~~
A few days passed when Nick, the label guy, showed up at their apartment. Y/N left Eddie with a kiss and headed to their bedroom as the band talked. The walls were thin so she could hear the conversation, but still wanted to feel as she gave them privacy.
They talked about the basics of everything and Y/N tried not to listen in too much. But once she heard the band leave and her name was brought up, she couldn't help but listen in.
"I want to do this tour, and I know the band wants it. But my girl is here, she and I haven't been separated in years. She is in full support and I want her to come with," Eddie explained. Y/N smiled at his words, her heart beaming with love.
"Does she have a ring on her finger?" Nick asked, Y/N couldn't see his face but he sounded annoyed.
"Well no but-"
"Are you going to put a ring on her finger anytime soon?"
Y/N held her breath as she waited for Eddie's response
Eddie stuttered as his throat felt dry, "Well..I..I don't know." he chuckled uncomfortably
Well that hurt, Y/N thought. They had been together for over three years and he had no time frame of when he wanted to get engaged? Was he even thinking of a ring?
"Got any kids with her?" Nick asked
"Hell no," Eddie laughed, "Pretty sure I don't even want any."
Y/N felt her heart snap into two. This whole time she thought they were dreaming of the same future. She wanted a ring and kids with Eddie, and it hurt like hell that he was on a different page.
"Son, you are about to go on a world tour. You are going to be in a different state every night. Let the girl go and enjoy the fame. This is your first and only chance to make something of yourself. You don't want distractions. She's a chick, and chicks bring drama. You pick Eddie."
Y/N blinked away tears as the front door slammed shut. She was quick to jump in bed when she heard Eddie begin walking to the room.
~
Y/N was up all night as she repeated Nick's words in her head. She couldn't make Eddie choose between his dream and her. She could feel how tense his body was as he slept, Nick's words weighing him down too.
She knew Eddie loved her too much to break up with her, and he wouldn't break his promise of not leaving her behind. But he needed to go, he needed this for his career. She loved him strong enough to let him go without her.
~~~
"Eddie? Can we talk?"
Eddie looked up from his guitar, brown eyes worried. "What's wrong?" He was quick to grab her hand and pull her between his legs. He sat on the bed and she stood before him, tears in her eyes.
"You know how we talked about me staying here while you go on tour?"
"Yeah, but only because of Nick. If I could have it my way, you'd be right there," he said with a smile as he softly rubbed her hand.
She hated how sweet he was, it was making this all much harder.
"I'm a little worried about us being separated that long," she said
"Trust me, I'm coming home to you and none of my feelings are going to change just because of the distance" he tried to reassure her. He knew Y/N was the love of his life and he'd never ruin what they had.
"What if things on the road change your beliefs? You know, what if..." She slowly trailed off.
"What if, what?" He asked, confused as he looked in her eyes for answers.
"What if you meet someone else? There's going to be a lot of girls throwing themselves at you"
"They can throw themselves at me as much as they want, they'd never make me forget about you. I love you and I'd never ruin what we have for a random girl on the road," he explained
"I don't know if I can believe you," she lied, "what if you get in trouble with drugs? And you can't stop and fall addicted? You have many addicts in your family and one weak moment, you might find a girl to make it feel better," she could see her words were starting to take effect on him. His eyes gloss over with anger, but that's what she needed. He didn't need her holding him back and being a distraction.
"Wow," he scoffed, standing up. "I haven't touched any other drug except weed my whole life. And you think I'm that stupid that I'd dive right into hard core shit just because I'm on tour? I can get the same shit down the block!" He argued.
"Have you ever been tempted?" She asked
"Fuck no, but you probably wouldn't believe that either," he said as he rolled his eyes. "I mean we've been together for years, I understand this is a big change for us, but why do you suddenly think I won't have any self control?"
Because I'm making all of this up so you'll leave pissed off and I won't be a distraction, she thought.
She was silent and Eddie felt himself growing angier by it.
"Because I won't be there!"
"Oh now the truth comes out. You don't think I can say no. You think a slutty girl will jump on my lap and you think I'll just love it and fuck her. Then she'll bring me to a party with hard drugs and before I know it I'm snorting drugs off her body." He laughed, but it had no humor behind it. She knew she was hurting him but that meant everything was working.
"If you really think that I would cheat on you, then maybe we weren't as strong as I thought" he added, his voice a little sad as he sat back down.
"I think it's best if we take a break while you're on tour. And you can do whatever you want on it, and we'll talk when you come back."
Eddie nodded at her words. He didn't agree with anything but he wasn't going to try to change her mind. She had this view of him and he couldn't fix it.
~~~
The first few weeks with Eddie gone was hell. Y/N cried every morning and every night. She was in so much pain and hated she couldn't reach for him. She wanted to call and tell him the truth, that everything was a lie and she did it so he could be happy. But the suffering was becoming too much and she just wanted to be with him again, in his arms and in his heart. She couldn't forget the broken look in his eye when he left, the loudness of the door as it slammed.
She found out she was pregnant, adding more guilt to her life. He was supposed to come home at the end of the month, and he promised before he left that they would talk about their relationship. He didn't want to give up on them and she believed that.
But then the end of the month came and she hadn't heard a word. Her calls went unanswered and his body never walked through the front door. She wanted to tell him she was pregnant when she saw him in person again but she wasn't sure went that would be. She didn't know if he was in town or where he ended up, all she knew was that he wasn't coming back to her right now. She kept calling and wrote letters to his management, but no response.
She waited and waited, maybe the tour added more dates. They were broken up so she didn't expect him to update her on everything but she wished he'd answer at least one call.
She called every day for a year, and never once did her phone ring back.
~~~
Five years passed and she gave up on Eddie, she gave up years ago when he refused to come back to her. She figured she caused too much pain and broke his heart so he moved on. The thought killed her but him being happy was all she wanted in life.
It turned out she was pregnant with twins, a boy and a girl. They reminded her of Eddie, some days it made her happy, and other days it killed her. They didn't know a life with a dad so she never spoke to them about it, and they never asked. To them just having mom was normal and she didn't want to disturb that. Because she honestly didn't think she'd ever see Eddie again.
"Christopher, you need to stop running!" Y/N scolded as she pushed Beverly on the swing set. The boy laughed as he ran faster, his curls bouncing with every step.
She groaned as she gave Beverly another push and then ran after him.
Once she caught him, she got them ready in the car. She loved her kids but damn they were so energetic, and she knew who they got it from.
They looked alike in ways, the same brown curly hair, Beverly's was longer. Same eyes and the same sass.
She sighed in relief when she pulled up to the house, ready to put them in a room and have time to herself. But her stomach turned when a black SUV was parked in the driveway.
"Momma, who's that?" Christopher asked, his curious eyes settled on the car. The windows were dark and they couldn't see in it.
"I don't know. I'll go check, stay here." She said, she got out of the car and walked over to the car. Before she could walk up to knock on the driver's window, the back door opened. She froze in her spot.
Eddie exited out of the car, hair tied up in a bun but a few curls loose on his forehead. He had many more tattoos, his arms covered in ink until it disappeared under his short sleeve. He wore sunglasses, which she was thankful for. She feared if she could see his eyes she'd melt in a puddle.
"Hi stranger, can we talk?"
His voice sent shivers down her spine. She's only heard it on the radio, either his songs or an interview. She never had the heart to turn it, always wondering if he was happy. If chasing him away was the right decision.
"I...I... Eddie...I" she stuttered, completely in shock as he stood in front of her. He was real, and he was here, after five long years. "I can't right now, but tonight? I can meet you somewhere." She said, her eyes looking back to her car and then to him.
He looked at her car and looked back, he couldn't see inside but he knew there was someone she didn't want him to see. He figured it was a new boyfriend or something, he couldn't help but look down at her hand. Relief in his stomach when he didn't see a ring. She must have not lived alone, he suspected since she didn't want him inside.
"Sure, had to get a new number so here," he said as he handed her a piece of paper. "Text me when and where and I'll be there."
She smiled as she took the piece of paper, hoping she was covering how much anxiety she had.
"You look incredible, by the way." He said as he got in the car. She watched as the door slammed and the car backed out of the driveway.
~
"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Steve asked. Steve was one of her best friends from high school and he knew the truth about everything. He was the godfather to her kids and he spoiled the crap out of them. But he was also her rock, she couldn't imagine doing everything on her own.
"It's just dinner, Steve," she said as she tore apart her closet.
"Just dinner?" He chuckled, "Then why did you take half an hour in the shower, and now tearing apart your closet for something sexy to wear?" He asked, a smirk on his face as she froze.
She coughed and yanked the dress off the hanger. "I don't know what you're talking about"
Steve laughed as her bathroom door closed. "I suppose I'll take the kids and leave!"
"I'll call you when I'm on my way to pick them up!" She said through the door
~
Y/N felt like she was going on a first date all over again. Her stomach was filled with butterflies, but all the fluttering made her feel like she was going to be sick.
She knew Eddie, but she didn't know this new version of him. She didn't know the Rockstar and the man with all the fame.
She wasn't sure why he wanted to talk. It has been five years and she accepted he'd never come back to her. But now he was but for what? Did he want to get back together? Even though they haven't talked in five years. Did he want to rub it in her face that he made it big without her? Thank her for being the reason he left in the first place?
She swallowed nervously as she walked into the small restaurant, the lights were dim creating a romantic atmosphere. Eddie was already at a table, sipping on a beer.
"Sorry, hope you weren't waiting long," she said as she took a seat.
He perked up in his seat, "No I just got here, you're fine." He said with a smile. She forgot how calm she felt near him, seeing his smile and eyes made all her anxiety melt away.
"I told you she would show up!" The young waiter said as he patted Eddie on the back. Eddie gave the waiter a side eye as his face blushed. "At least you only had to wait half an hour, a guy last night waited two full hours before he gave up." The waiter laughed.
Y/N and Eddie were quick to order another drink and send him on his way. Eddie wanted to smack his head against the table once he left.
"Thirty minutes? Thought you just got here," she teased, laughing softly.
"Little white lie," he chuckled
They laughed until it died in silence. They stared silently at each other, memorizing each other's faces.
"That's a beautiful dress," Eddie said. A nervous cough followed and he took a swig of his beer. She made him nervous, he felt like he was meeting her for the first time all over again. Everything he said or did tonight had to impress her. Almost like he had to win her over.
"Oh thank you," she said as she pushed down the material on her thighs. "You look good, and the new tattoos are incredible." She complimented, itching to push up his sleeve and see how far up the tattoos went. She wondered if he had any more in other places, and how many different women got to see them, feel them, and trace them. She used to trace his ink after sex all the time, and her stomach felt unsettled thinking about all the other women who touched his new ink before she had the chance. She never thought she'd share his body with anyone new, it was hers for life, at least it used to be.
"Thank you," he said. He was guilty of thinking the same thing she was. He wanted to reach over the table and run her fingers up and down his arm. He craved to feel her soft touch on his skin, tracing the shapes and planting wet kisses on his neck. He shivered at the memories that played through his head.
"How was, uh tour?" She asked. She knew bringing it up would make them uncomfortable, and she was right. The second tour left her lips, and both of their bodies went stiff.
"It was great," he said, unable to look in her eyes as he traced the top of his glass. "Touring for five years seems crazy now, but once I started I didn't want to stop."
She felt his words hit her like a blow, but he got his dream.
"I'm really glad it worked out and you guys got to tour for many more years." She meant it. Even though the space between them killed her, she couldn't have been more proud of him.
"Yeah, but I'm back in town for good. And I know when I left things weren't right between us. I don't know if you are seeing someone or anything, but I came back to you for a reason," he explained. He played with his rings, showing her he was just as nervous about this conversation as she was.
"What's the reason, Eddie?" She asked, but she had a good feeling about what he was going to say. And if he did say it, she was going to get pissed.
"I miss you and I miss us. I thought if I kept the tour going, I'd never have to face how shitty everything was without you."
"Do you remember when you promised me we'd talk about it when you came back? As in years ago? I was waiting for you. I was waiting like a god damn idiot. You miss me? Well, screw you." She spat, already planning to stand up but he was quick to grab her hand and pull her back down.
"I know! Okay, I know. I was pissed off when I left and hurt that you believed I would ever cheat on you. I was angry and each time I performed I got more angry. I was singing about a girl that didn't trust me to not fuck up without her there. It fucked with my head and I started to wish I hated you, and that broke my heart." He explained, "Then you'd call and all I wanted to do was answer and tell you how bad you fucked with my head. That this tour was supposed to be everything to me and I hated every second of it because all I could think about was if you were trusting me or not." Eddie ranted, trying his best to stay calm.
"If you were so mad at me that you wanted to hate me, why didn't you at least try to talk to me?"
"You broke up with me, I didn't want to talk to you. Is that so wrong of me?" Eddie asked
"I mean no, but at least one phone call would have been nice. Even if you told me to fuck off and never talk to you again, at least it would have told me where we stood. I waited for you to come home and you didn't bother to tell me you changed your mind. You talked about not changing, but you did change. You broke a promise, and you never break those." She argued, taking deep breaths as she felt the need to cry.
"I'm sorry that I never communicated. I was at these parties and girls were throwing themselves at me, just like you said. I didn't want any of them, never even blinked in their direction. I wanted to prove that I could be someone you could trust. And then I thought I shouldn't have to prove that to you because I've been loyal since the day we got together. What you said wasn't fair. I'm being as honest as I can. You broke my heart and I wanted to hurt you." He felt bad for saying it but he never told her how much pain she caused him.
"Everything you felt was valid. I did ask for a break and I put us in that situation. I'm really sorry for hurting you. But I can explain why," she sighed
"I didn't want to break up or anything. I wanted to stay together, no matter how long you would be gone. I love you, Eddie and that never changed. But I was scared that if you stayed with me, you'd regret it."
"Baby, why would I ever regret you?" His voice sounded sad. She sniffled back tears and continued.
"I overheard you and Nick talking. I was fine with staying back and letting you go alone. Nick didn't want distractions and that was fine. But Eddie asked about marriage and kids. He asked you what future you planned to have with me, and you didn't have an answer. You laughed at the idea and that hurt. I couldn't put myself through long distance, waiting for you to come home, when you weren't even sure if I was the one for life. I lied and made all of that shit up so you would want to leave me. And so you could go on the tour without our distance dragging you down. And I think I also did it to protect myself. Because if I waited for you and you came back with a change of heart, I wouldn't ever recover."
"I do want to marry you, I've always wanted that. He wanted a time frame and I panicked. I knew I'd marry you, but I had no idea how soon it would be. I know I waited long and you're completely valid to protect yourself. Putting a date on it scared me and I'm sorry that I didn't handle it well. And for the kids," Y/N felt her body stiffen. She felt like she was holding her breath, terrified of what he'd say. "I'm scared too. I don't know if I have what it takes to be a dad. You are perfect and always perfect at everything. I think I could be a good husband to you, but I don't think I'd keep up to be a good dad like you would be as a mom. I'm scared to fail you." He confessed, his eyes turning red as tears slipped down his cheek. The tip of his nose was red as more tears fell.
"What about now? It's been five years. Was all that time away enough for you to commit to me like that?" She asked
"I thought about you the whole time and once I got my head out of my ass I went straight to you. I haven't seen anyone, family or friends. I got off the plane and headed to you. I've been mad at you but realized that never took away any of my love for you. There was never a girl that could make me forget about you. I want you and I'd marry you right now at the courthouse if you asked me to." And he meant it.
"We both hurt each other, and both said things we didn't mean. We've matured and grown up a little more. I think we can start on a clean slate?" Y/N asked, reaching over to offer her hand
Eddie smiled and shook it, a clean slate.
~~~
A few weeks passed since Eddie and Y/N talked. They agreed to just start as friends, and not jump into anything. Y/N wanted to get back together but she knew it would get complicated once her kids were involved.
She didn't have a plan to introduce them, and that backfired.
Eddie showed up unannounced at the house, he still had his key and he walked right in.
Y/N was giving Beverly a bath, music playing from the small speaker on the counter. Y/N laughed as Beverly blew bubbles around the room. Christopher was in his room, loudly banging trucks together. Everyone was unaware of Eddie walking through the house.
Eddie couldn't help but look at how much their home changed. It was clear children lived here, from the small plates, cups, and toys on the floor. The pictures on the wall caught his attention, his eyes glued to the photographs.
She had a family, she had two small kids. The beauty of all three of them took Eddie's breath away. She had a boy and girl on each side of her, and both kids had dark curly hair. He gulped, the kids looked identical to him.
Eddie heard laughing coming from the bathroom, and he followed the sound. He walked down that hallway a thousand times and never pictured he'd hear a little girl's laugh coming from it. He softly pushed the cracked door open.
His heart warmed at the sight, he knew Y/N would be a good mother but seeing it was something else. The way she smiled so big and the pure joy on her face, it killed Eddie to know how much he missed out.
Eddie coughed to get her attention
"Eddie?" she gasped in shock
"Can we talk?" He asked, his eyes looking to the small girl in the tub
~
"A clean slate and you didn't bother to tell me I had two fucking kids?" Eddie hissed, keeping his voice low as both kids were settled in the bedroom.
"A clean slate for us, my kids have nothing to do with you," Y/N fought back
"Nothing to do with me? I'm their father!"
"No, you're not! You helped me make them, sure. But your name is not on the birth certificate, they don't know you, and they don't have your last name. I'm sorry but there's not a single reason I can't think of for me to let you see them. You may be their father, but I'm their everything" Y/N said, trying to keep her emotions in check.
"That's not fair, I never got a chance," he argued
"You did! Do you think I called you for a whole year just because I was clingy? All you had to do was answer the fucking phone or better yet, showed up when you said you would." She spat, her voice filled with anger as she shoved past him.
He followed her into the bedroom, closing the door.
"You could have left a message!"
He stepped back when she pushed a finger against his chest and went head to head-with him.
"Listen, you don't get to make this my fault. I called, I tried, and I sure as hell did my fucking part" she hissed through her clenched teeth.
Eddie knew he was in the wrong so he backed down, he gently grabbed the finger on his chest and brought it down to her side. He held her hand and spoke softly,
"You're right. You tried and It's all on me that I never picked up. I understand why I don't have a place. But I'm here now, and I want to be here. I want to be a family."
Y/N turned her head away as she blinked away tears, she could feel her walls breaking down. He touched her cheek and turned her head to face him.
"I know you are their everything, but I want to help you. Let me be their dad, please," he begged, he slowly leaned in, "You've always been everything to me, and I want them to be everything to me too. We can be a family, I'm not going anywhere."
She cried as she leaned in as well, "I want to be a family too"
"Can I kiss you?" he whispered
She nodded and leaned in, she moaned as she felt his lips on hers again. His soft touch on her skin and the desperation of his kiss made her stomach flutter.
He pulled away slowly, his eyes locked on hers
"I never thought I could miss someone this much" he whispered before he leaned in again.
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theotherbuckley · 22 days
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Fuck it Friday 📝
The beans have not been beaning lately but I managed to write a little bit of the dad!Buck teacher!Tommy fic so here’s a little of that :)
Buck has not been dreading parent-teacher interviews. He has not.
Maddie would disagree. She’s been on the receiving end of far too many rants about a specific teacher who’s “so strong, like why is a teacher that built?” Maddie does not understand how that's relevant to a conversation about her 5 year-old niece’s education.
Regardless of what his sister would say, Buck actually feels completely indifferent towards seeing Bella’s teacher. He only changes his shirt thrice, and does up his hair to make a good impression because he wants to show that he’s a competent single-dad. No ulterior motive.
Eddie gives him a funny look when he gets into the Jeep, giving him a quick once over and raising an eyebrow. Buck chooses to ignore him.
Getting to the school, Buck keeps telling himself that it’s all okay, he’s going to be perfectly normal, why wouldn’t he? It’s just her teacher. That everyone seems to love for perfectly valid reasons no reason at all.
He says goodbye to Eddie at the gate, finding his way through the school until he finds the familiar door with the massive number 5 painted on the outside. He sits on one of the little chairs outside, making small talk with one of the other parents. Everything is okay. And Buck is so perfectly normal about it all. He’s just going to go in, listen to this man talk about how great his daughter is (how could he not?) and that will be all, Buck is not going to be weird at all.
That all goes straight out the window as soon as Mr. K opens the door and says “Mr. Buckley, come right on through.”
First, Buck almost trips over his own feet as he stands up from the all too small chairs, blushing as Mr. K watches but says nothing. And then, and then he gets into the room, shakes his hand and stumbles over his own damn name.
“Buck— err— Ev-Evan Buckley?” He coughs. “Um, you can call me Evan.” Call me Evan?? Who calls him Evan? What is going on with him? So much for being normal.
Mr. K gives him an amused smile, still shaking his hand that Buck no realises has been going on for far too long. “Tommy,” the man replies.
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Tagged for FIF by: @diazheartsbuckley @inell @lonelychicago @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @actuallyitsellie
Tagging people who might want to share something! @bidisasterevankinard @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @thewolvesof1998 @wikiangela @underwaterninja13 @daffi-990 @aspecbuddie @bucks-daddy-issues @tizniz @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @actualalligator @pirrusstuff @babybibuck @perfectlysunny02 @rogerzsteven @bucksbignaturals @smallandalmosthonest @spotsandsocks @evanbi-ckley @ronordmann @snarkythewoecrow @lavenderleahy @911varietyposts @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @cliophilyra @typicalopposite @30somethingautisticteacher @talktonytome @buffaluff let me know if you want to be added or removed!
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ladykailitha · 9 months
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The Magic of Christmas Part 1/8
Here it is, guys! My first Christmas steddie story. It was a blast to write even though sometimes it was struggle to get words down being so close to the holidays.
Summary: Steve doesn't play D&D, not really. But he's been a fan of Eddie Munson's artwork for Wizards of the Coast for years. So after he inherits the business from his dad, he decides the best use of all his dad's money is spend it on a five piece painting for the Party of their characters fighting a purple dragon. So he hires Eddie to do the work, but because it's so labor intensive, Steve offers to pay all of Eddie's bills plus any expenses he has for the paintings. How is Eddie to say no to that, so he doesn't try. He also doesn't try not falling in love with Steve. Will Steve reject him or will Eddie get a little magic for Christmas?
Words: 17012 CW: none Rating: Teen for swearing mostly Relationships: Steddie, background Buckingham, Jancy, Eden/Argyle, Dustin/Suzie, Lumax, and a surprise later in the story. Mike and El aren't dating in this, but neither is Mike and Will. They're single.
Also, Steve comes off as mildly autistic in this. He's based on a lot of my own experiences, so I hope this doesn't scare you off.
Essentially this is Eddie falls first, Steve falls harder over the course of six months. June and July aren't strictly mentioned, but you know it's happening during those two months.
***
Eddie walked into the high rise office building feeling a little out of place. All right, maybe a lot of place, if he was being honest with himself.
Here he was in a faded leather jacket and ripped black jeans in an actual fucking glass elevator to the top floor.
The doors opened up to warm outer office. It was dark woods and deep reds and golds. He had been expecting it to look like the rest of the building. He skipped forward to the woman at the desk a little unsure if he was in the right place.
“Hey, um...” he began, tilting his head. “I think I might be in the wrong place. But I’m Eddie Munson and I have a two o’clock appointment with Steve Harrington?”
She blinked up at him in shock. “This is Steve Harrington’s office, let me look at the schedule. I vaguely remember him making sure I didn’t schedule anything for this time.”
Eddie handed her the card that had Steve’s name on the front and the date and time on the back. She took it from him and nodded. He bit his lip nervously as she fiddled with something on her computer.
“All right,” she said, “I do see that he has an hour of time blocked off, but let me call him.”
Eddie nodded.
“Steve,” she said into the receiver. “I have an Eddie Munson here for you.”
“He’s here?” Eddie could hear the excitement in the person’s voice. “Send him in!”
She smiled. “Will do.” She hung up the phone. “Looks you’re good to go.”
Eddie smiled back. “Thanks.” He leaned over the desk for a moment. “I’m guessing you don’t know what this is about anymore than I do.”
She shook his head. “Nope. But he sounds excited to see you so you should really do that.”
He nodded back and skipped over to the door where it swung open as he reached it. He turned back to her. “Neat trick.”
She grinned back.
Eddie walked through the door and found that the inner office was very much the same as the outer one. All warm and cozy. And...well. Friendly.
Behind the desk leaping to his feet to greet him was the most gorgeous human Eddie had ever laid eyes on. He had floppy dark golden hair with hazel eyes behind neat glasses. His smile was easy and infectious.
“Eddie!” the Greek Adonis in a smartly tailored suit said brightly, sticking his hand out to him. “I’m so glad you came. When I spoke to your agent I got the impression you don’t usually do commissions.”
He half shrugged taking the outstretched hand and shaking it. “It’s been a slow year and I don’t taking the odd commission when it intrigues me.”
Steve blushed. “I intrigued the great Eddie Munson, I’m flattered.”
Eddie raised both eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you were a fan of my work.”
Steve nodded eagerly. “Oh hell yeah. I managed to get a picture of that lovely mural you did to cover the gang signs in the neighborhood before the cops destroyed it.”
Eddie blinked. Well fuck. He didn’t realize anyone had known that was him.
“You didn’t tell the cops it was me, did you?”
Steve laughed, clear and bright. He sat down and gestured for Eddie to do the same. “Rule number one. Don’t tell cops shit.”
Eddie sat down with a thud. “That’s good to know.”
Steve grinned wickedly at him and pulled out a picture of the mural from his desk drawer. He handed it to Eddie for him to look at.
“Usually it’s on my desk,” Steve said. “But I didn’t want to come across as too much of a fan boy right away.”
Eddie ran his fingers over the glass. It was of a pack of wolves howling at the moon rising over a tall mountain range.
“It’s nice to see that it’ll be remembered in some small way,” he murmured.
“I’ve got an photographer friend who can make a copy for you if you’d like,” Steve said softly.
Eddie’s head shot up. “You’d do that?”
This time it was Steve that gave a little half shrug. “I mean I can tell it was important to you so...”
He grinned. “Thanks, man. So what’s this commission you’re wanting me to do?”
Steve blushed again. “Do you still do illustrations for Wizard of the Coast?”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. That’s where Steve knew his art from, fucking D&D? This day couldn’t get any weirder.
He cleared his throat. “Like, sometimes. Right now I’m not happy with them for trying to take the game away from little homebrew gamers like me and my friends. But yeah, beggars can’t be choosers.”
Steve nodded. “God, I wish we could go back to the days were stupid rich people would hire poor artists to paint for them for a year or whatever. Free paint, free room and board.”
“Lack of freedom of expression though,” Eddie laughed.
Steve laughed with him. “Not if you’re sleeping with the mistress of the house.”
Eddie laughed harder. “Sorry, I’d be more likely to be sleeping with the master than the mistress.”
Steve smiled with a little shrug. “I’d probably end up doing both if they were hot enough.”
Eddie’s eyebrows went up. All right, noted. “Though I suppose in the scenario you’d be the master, so you’d be sleeping with the artist and the mistress.”
Steve grinned. “Well that’s certainly true.”
Eddie needed to get this meeting to move on before he leapt over the desk to fuck this gorgeous man senseless. “You want to be paint something in my D&D style?”
Steve lit up and Eddie had bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying something stupid like how hot he found that look on Steve’s face.
“Yeah, I have these...” he said, “well they aren’t kids anymore. But they were when I first met them. They’re really big into D&D. In fact Dustin, the one I’m closest to is the one that got me into your art. They were so well done in the books and then found out you had a website and well...” he blushed. “I really liked the fantasy stuff.”
Eddie smirked. He knew exactly what Steve was talking about. There was a section on his website where you had to put in your credit card information to even view it. Did he know that kids stole their parents’ credit cards to view that part of his site? Sure. But at least it made sure most of the time that the viewer was over the age of eighteen.
There was more to fantasy then elves or dragons. Eddie smiled.
“Did you now?”
Steve blushed deeper. “Not that I want you to do that for this!” he said waving his hands. “They maybe adults now, I’m not that insane! But they have these characters that they’ve had since they were twelve and I was hoping you could paint them fighting a dragon. Especially a purple dragon. Because they are so cool.”
Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “What were you thinking in terms of size?”
Steve pulled out another picture and slid it over to Eddie. Eddie picked it up and looked at it. It was one of those wall paintings that were split into separate pieces but if put together it would form a cohesive picture.
“I was thinking 10x18 for the side pieces and 18x24 for the middle piece which would have the dragon,” Steve explained.
“And each of the side pieces would have a different character?”
Steve nodded. “I was wanting it by Christmas, would that give you enough time to do it?”
Eddie sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m mean, I guess. A month for each of the smaller ones and two months for the larger piece. It’s doable. If it’s the only thing I work on for the next six months. So I would require at least half the payment up front.”
Steve nodded and pulled out a piece of paper from a leather folio on his desk and handed it over to him.
Eddie started reading and was about half way down when he realized it was a contract. He usually had his own contract to give clients, especially for projects this big. But looking over Steve’s contract, not only was it better worded, it was a lot better offer for Eddie.
“Do you mind if I take this and show my agent before sign?” he asked.
Steve smiled. “No, of course not. Be my guest. In fact, I insist.”
Eddie relaxed. “Thanks!”
Steve ducked his head bashfully. “I really hope you’ll do it. You’re my favorite artist. Dusty’s too.”
Hoo-boy did Eddie know that look. It was the look of someone who was used to being shut down for their interests because they got too excited talking about it.
It was starting to look like regardless of what Chrissy thought about contract, he was going to do it. Because fuck, no one should have to feel like they were too much.
He stood up and shook his hand. “Is the end of the week okay?”
Steve’s head jerked up in shock. “What?”
“For the contract?” Eddie said, holding up the piece of paper.
“Oh!” Steve murmured. “Yeah. That’ll be a fine.”
Eddie got up and shook Steve’s hand. He walked to the door, but paused at the doorway. He turned back and tilted his head down and around. “You don’t have to limit yourself with me, okay? You can be yourself with me.”
Steve’s jaw dropped. “What? I don’t know what you mean...”
“The look on your face when you were talking about me being your favorite artist,” Eddie explained. “It’s something I see all the time with my friends and even myself. You close yourself off because you think you’re going to be shut down and told to shut up or at the very least dial it back. And I’m saying you don’t have to. Not with me.”
Steve blushed and ducked his head again. “You just want to me flatter the hell out of you.”
Eddie laughed. “I won’t deny that flattering works on me. But I mean it, okay? Don’t limit yourself. The people that mind don’t matter and those that matter won’t mind.”
Steve smiled. “Dr. Seuss. I’ll try to remember that.”
“See that you do,” Eddie said with a laugh. He tapped his hand on the door frame and then walked away.
He was almost to the elevator when the secretary said, “I heard what you said just now. About him not needing to hold back with you. Thank you.”
Eddie paused in his step. He whirled around and then skipped up to the desk. “You don’t need to thank me for that. He deserves to gush about the things he loves.”
“His parents would shut him up every time he would gush about anything,” she said. “Even sports. Which you would think would be the one thing that a boy should gush about, but nope.”
Eddie nodded. “Bastards.” He cocked his head to the side. “You are more than just his secretary aren’t you?”
She laughed. “Best friend and soulmate, Robin Buckley.” She stuck out her hand.
Eddie shook it with a wide smile. “Please to meet you. I’m guessing you’re president of the Steve Harrington Appreciation Society. Where can one sign up?”
Robin laughed. “Signing that contract will do the job I think.” She jutted her chin up at the paper in his hand.
He shrugged. “I got have my agent look at it before I sign anything. She’d murder me otherwise.”
“Fair.”
“See you around, Birdie,” Eddie said with a salute.
She frowned. “Birdie?”
He made a bird with his hands or at least tried with the contract in his hand. “Robin. Bird. Birdie.”
“Oh god,” she sighed. “You’re one of those.”
Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yup!” He skipped into elevator and pressed the button to the ground floor. He waved as the elevator lowered him down.
***
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
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titanlord231 · 3 months
Text
I know that everyone likes Buddie and whatnot, but the idea of Buck and Eddie being disaster bi and disaster Gay best friends together is so funny to me. Eddie and Buck are obviously gonna be in each others lives no matter what, they are too important to each other not to be but imagine all the funny scenarios of Buck using his handful of months of being out as experience to help Eddie with his gay experiences and being really bad at it.
Buck trying to wingman a guy for Eddie at a gay bar and making the guy think Eddie and Buck are a couple who wants a three way
Buck accidentally taking Eddie to a kink bar and being very confused when it’s not like a regular bar
Buck and Eddie going to their first pride parade together and falling off the float they are on or something and the rest of the 118 getting the call and having to come and rescue them
Eventually Tommy hears about these misadventures and forces Buck to let him tag along so he can keep them both out of trouble (possibly including a double date of bar guy from the earlier prompt and BuckTommy)
Point is if you want me to post these prompts as fic drabbles leave a like and let me know
(Also the idea of Eddie finding a nice guy who is also a single dad feels like a beautiful story that I kinda wanna write)
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queenimmadolla · 6 months
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Do you think some of Eddie peers are jealous that he’s got wife and 3 kids at home, sure Eddie feel into the rock and roll lifestyle but he didn’t let partying, groupies or drugs consume him, he’s got a loving wife and adorable kids waiting for him and they see that all of eddies love and devotion is for his family and music. Eddies just like “I do my job, rock out and go home”
Say he got invited to a big after party where he’ll party with Ozzy or Metallica but he declines because he just found out his kids are having their own Wrestler Mania back at the hotel room and he can’t miss that again
Or Eddie takes you to the party and y’all are getting approach and people like your relationship vibe and yall are getting hit on that you get both get a invitation to go to a “different party” in a hotel room and it goes over your head like “oh actually we aren’t staying long we gotta get back before the new Simpsons episode start”
Or when the band gets interviewed we see the kids in the background and the world gets to see Eddie being the best dad and loving husband. Every 80/90’s musician in the rock/metal scene are single, loves to party, and is reckless so Eddie was a change they weren’t expecting.
Sooo….You’re not gonna be very happy with me. Let’s go through this together and hopefully you wont hate me too much because it does get better.
Yes, Eddie’s peers do experience a little jealousy at the family he has, the constant love surrounding him—but he does succumb to the partying, drugs….and almost a groupie (THIS WILL BE TOUCHED ON MORE IN THE FIC IM PERFECTING, DONT THROW THE TOMATOES). He does his job, rocks out, and sometimes he craves reaping the rewards (drugs and parting and soaking it all in—not the groupies, that’s a related situation but not a part of what he craves) of his success. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, he gets caught up in it. And it eats at him because he also knows his wife and his beautiful kids are also a once in a lifetime opportunity. That’s what kicks his ass back into gear.
It’s a life that you enjoy sometimes, love being on his arm, at his side, watching him glow underneath all those flashing lights. That confident smirk on his face, he belongs. It’s completely his element, what you knew he was always meant to do. And for the most part, you love being his wife, the wife of a Rockstar. How he’s always ravenous for you, the way he handles you when he’s fresh off the stage—be stadium stage or a some big fancy hall stage for an award ceremony—the parties he takes you to, the material things, not having to work your ass off to survive anymore, not having to work at all. You hate how women literally throw themselves at him, constantly expose themselves to him (the amount of flashing is INSANE, you see more titties than you ever did in the girls’ locker room back in high l when you’re tucked under his arm) but he only ever has eyes for you (shhh, we’re not talking about the groupie rn, that will be explained and you will understand).
And sometimes, being the wife of a Rockstar is hard. The tabloids are relentless, he tours the world and you stay with the kids, he’s doing coke with his pals and their gals while you’re washing the dishes halfway across the world. He’s partying after tour nights, you’re reading bedtime stories. You’re the wife of a Rockstar alright, and while he doesn’t have a mistress, sometimes the world acts as one. Sometimes the world gets him more than you do and he forgets that. Sometimes you don’t want to be the wife of a rockstar. You just want to be Eddie’s wife.
He gets there though, he gets to the points you’re talking about. Maybe not all of them, but he doesn’t become that messy playboy the world wants him to be. Still looks like a bad boy, but interviewers always note in articles they write, about the toys lingering around the house. Empty spaces on the walls, tables and shelves that had no doubt held picture frames prior to the journalists’ arrival, he was intent on keeping every precious moment and memory with his family private and away from the vicious prying eyes of the public. It’s interesting for you to read, because the first thought of an outsider’s mind is maybe something along the lines of Eddie not being sentimental or ashamed of the family, when it’s the entire opposite.
He starts ditching parties early to go back home and party with his favorite people before their bedtime (and then party with you all night long), starts having you and the kids closer during his shows again (you used to come to a few when Corroded Coffin made it bring, would bring the kids, until the shows got even bigger somehow, rowdier and fans get invasive). its difficult, especially with having to wrangle Maple—but Eddie doesn’t mind it when she runs onto the stage. if he’s feeling particularly nice, he’ll share her with the crowd for a song—but not much longer than that. He’s stingy with his family, protective, doesn’t need people thinking they can throw their unwanted opinions about his own damn kids out there—he’s assaulted people over it. And that’s not to say he hasn’t flaunted all of you, either. Fame is such a bittersweet accomplishment, he wants to show you all off to the world and sometimes he does, but the world is not kind, so he’s gotta keep you close and away from the cameras. He struggles with the back and forth a lot.
Again, the media is not kind to him, even while watching him be a father. But a couple of years from then, when his kids are older, the media/internet/etc. will pull up the photos/videos of him from the past with his kids, being so tender and playful with them. Loving. And he’ll be properly appreciated by them then. The two of you will have risen to be one of Hollywood’s golden couples, by then too. Heavily romanticized—and they’re not wrong.
It gets messy, gets cleaned up, gets messy, gets cleaned up, stays relatively clean. That’s the late 90s and Y2K, baby 😎
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