#Ed being a little shit as usual

[scarymonsters-andsupercreeps]

Meow

Original:

[siscon-stsg]

hi, feral Satoru is jealous of his mom from his father and fucks her to remind her whom she belongs to <33

(CW: inc*st, toru is jellyyyyy. very jelly. a bit toxic actually. obsessed even!! nt* i guess? is it nt* or just cheating? idk. D*B/CON. mommy k*nk. whiney toru as always. is this ex*ibitio*ism? facef*ck*ng...literally; satoru mounts reader's face JKAJAK. ed*ing, tea*ing, overs*im, marking/hickeys, p*ssydrunk toru, creampie, implied br**ding k*nk, )

EDIT: SHIT I JUST REALIZED YOU SAID "FERAL" NAUURRR. Imma write one with feral Satoru for you baby, I'm sorry!! (this is why you don't write when you're tired bois)

ANON YOUR BRAIN ANON. YOU'RE SO----- are you a kenjaku kinnie? cuz all i see is one big brain i can make out with /jjk rizz/ ~BLOSSOM

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who loves you lots. probably way more than a son should love his mom but whatever, right? it's not like he's done anything weird yet! he's just be a tad more clingy than the usual man is to his mother but that's okay!

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who's always tried everything to get your attention on him him him, only him. he's your pretty boy, right? the only one you should look at and love cuz no one is going to be better than him anyway!

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who has the attention of all the clan, the girls and boys he could ask for. but none of them are you, his mama.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who hates when you have to attend clan matters that involve other men. he hates when you give attention to other men, period!

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who saw, one night, how is father was with you on the kitchen after dinner. his father rubbed your hip, mumbled something to you that made you chuckle bashfully, and gave you a cheeky little squeeze before leaving the room.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU whose temper flared and he realized this couldn't go on any longer, he wouldn't let him steal away his mama's attention anymore!

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who waits until you're asleep, then sneaks into your room at night.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who wakes you up with soft kissies and whispers. who caresses you with all the love and attention and praise he'd never give any other human being. he searches every soft spot, every place that gets you squirmy, hot and bothered before he's even slid his hands under your clothes.

“mamaaa, wake up,” he'd mumble, pressing slow kisses right under your ear that got you gasping. his hips made a faint rustling sound as he ground them against your clothed heat, already hard and staining his pjs. “i need youuu...!”

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who'd stroke his cock over your face, straddling your chest and cornering your head against the pillow. who'd rub the leaky tip all over your cheeks and lips, choking on his breath to not wake up his dad sleeping next to you.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who uses your face to get off. keeping a heavy but gentle hand on your scalp, rubbing his throbbing dick against you with slow sways of his hips.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who says: “m-mommy, isn't my cock the prettiest? much prettier than his?”

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who makes himself jealous just thinking about you and his dad being together, and gives you a few smack smack smack slaps on your cheek with his weeping cock that make him whimper more than you.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who makes you bury your moans in the pillow as he mounts you from behind.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who whimpers in your ear. his arms tremble as he holds you by the waist, snug and tight against his chest, hips moving in an excruciatingly slow pace.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who ends up edging and teasing himself, because he wants to fuck you so hard until you scream but his stupid dad is next to you. he steals glances now and then just to make sure he's still asleep, sometimes giving in and thrusting with enough force to make you jump on the bed a bit.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who growls from having to hold himself back, whose sweaty, toned chest presses against your arched back and makes you shiver.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who feels his ego rise to a thousand when you're melting like goo underneath him: drooling and eye-rolling on his cock that touches your sweet spots so good because it touches everything.

“y'r mine, mama, mine!” he mumbles, muffling his moans into the skin of your neck he sucks and nips on without a care in the world.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who doesn't think your relationship with his dad is even worth hiding the hickeys he's leaving on your skin. you'd be much better with him anyways!

“aww, mommy looks s'cute! you're drooling all over the pillow,” he'd tease into your ear. “y'won' wan' no one's cock 'ver again, right? right, mama? jus' me? me, me, me?”

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who quickens the pace just enough to where he can't stop moaning, and he has to bite your shoulder gently but consistently not to moan out loud.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who doesn't shut up as his orgasm approaches.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who's a babbling, incoherent mess, pussy-drunk so hard he doesn't even care if your squelching is too loud or if his pelvis makes too much noise when bashing against your ass.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU who cums so much it's a wet, creamy, liquid mess on the sheets. who stays glued to you, grinding his hips as he just keeps moaning into your ear, like his orgasm just wouldn't stop peaking.

“mommy so good... m-mommy's all mine... won't share, not my pussy...” he'd say, sneaking a hand underneath you to rub meaningfully at your tummy.

JEALOUS BABY!TORU whose breath hitches when he hears a faint, groggy grunt of your name from the other side of the bed.

[fiapple]

not to be mean, but if you've never had a restrictive ed or bdd then maybe just stop talking about body checking? 90% of the time you lot have no clue what you're talking about, and as someone who's struggled with those issues a majority of my life, the misinformation it spreads can be really damaging to people who are sick regardless of their recovery status.

(please read op tags before you decide to argue, thanks)

[steddieas-shegoes]

scared to want you

for @steddie-week prompt 'exes to lovers'

rated m | 1021 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: post breakup, getting back together, idiots in love, platonic stobin

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

“Are you gonna stop staring at him anytime soon?” Robin’s voice asked loudly in his ear.

“Probably not,” Steve admitted. “He’s wearing my sweater.”

He saw Robin’s head whip around to look back at Eddie. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

It’s surprising to see Eddie here at all, let alone in Steve’s sweater. Eddie had moved back in with Wayne three months ago after an argument with Steve that led whatever they were to destruction.

Steve wanted more, Eddie had been afraid. Steve said he loved him, Eddie said he needed to leave.

Steve spent the last three months hurting. Eddie was wearing his sweater in public.

Everything was a little confusing right now.

“We should go, Steve.” Robin sounded angry now, and Steve loved her for it. She’d been the one to show up at his door a few hours after Eddie was gone and held him while he cried. She’d been there for weeks while he avoided everyone’s questions, went through the motions of being an adult while barely getting by. She had blocked Eddie on all of his social media and her own out of spite. “It doesn’t do you any good to sit here and pine after someone who hurt you.”

She was right, of course, but he couldn’t leave.

Eddie was wearing his sweater.

Eddie looked good in his sweater.

“Steve.”

Steve turned to Robin, who was smiling sadly back at him.

“I don’t think I can go without talking to him.”

Robin nodded once, always so understanding of Steve, supportive even when he didn’t always deserve it. She was the best, and he was about to piss her off.

“I’ll text you when I leave,” he said as he gave her a quick hug. She wouldn’t want to stick around to see what happens with this. “I’ll be fine.”

He wouldn’t, and she knew that, but she squeezed his hand in hers and left anyway.

Eddie hadn’t noticed him yet, or at least wasn’t acting like he had. He was standing at the bar talking to the bartender and a woman who walked in only a few minutes ago. Whatever he was talking about seemed serious, none of them smiling.

Steve walked up to the bar slowly, but with the sole purpose of talking to Eddie.

The bartender turned to him and smiled. “Hey, hon. You need another Sunrise, Sunset?”

Steve shook his head, but smiled at her. “No thanks, Kim. Just here to say hi to someone.”

When he turned towards Eddie, he was already looking back at him, biting his lip nervously.

“Hey, Eds.”

“Hey, Stevie.”

“Been a bit,” Steve swallowed. He didn’t actually know what he was trying to accomplish here. All he knew was there had to be a reason he was wearing Steve’s sweater. It wasn’t exactly his usual style. “Doing alright?”

The other woman seemed to catch onto what was going on, turning away and talking to the bartender instead.

“Um, yeah I guess.” Eddie was lying. Steve could always tell when he was lying. “You?”

“Been better,” Steve replied. “A little surprised to see you here. In that.”

Eddie looked down at what he was wearing and then up at Steve, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Laundry day.”

“Sure.” Steve sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. He just had to say something. Maybe closure would be good. “Can we talk somewhere else?”

Eddie nodded and started to walk to the back of the bar where the office and bathrooms were. Steve followed, assuming they’d go into the bathroom and hope no one came in. When Eddie led him into the office, Steve frowned.

“I don’t think we have permission to be in here.”

“I work here part time. Kim lets me take my breaks in here,” Eddie explained, closing the door behind them. “I didn’t know you liked this bar.”

“We’ve only been a few times,” Steve explained.

“Oh, you’ve um. You and your date?” Eddie was leaning against the desk, eyes cast down to his feet.

“No. Me and Robin.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath. “Right, good, yeah.”

“Eddie, look at me.” Steve stepped closer, could almost feel the heat coming off of Eddie’s body. Eddie looked up at him, eyes watery and bottom lip bitten red. “Why are you wearing my sweater?”

“I needed you.” Eddie’s broken voice was all Steve needed to close what little distance remained between them, pulling Eddie against him and holding him as tightly as he possibly could.

“I didn’t think you needed me anymore,” Steve said against his neck, trying not to get his hopes up despite Eddie’s tears now soaking his shirt. “You didn’t want me anymore.”

Eddie’s hands tightened in Steve’s shirt and Steve felt him shake his head. “I wanted you too much. I was scared how much I wanted you.”

“Are you still scared now?”

“Only that I don’t have you.”

Steve’s lips found Eddie’s, hopeful and desperate.

Eddie took control within seconds, turning them around so Steve was sitting on the corner of the desk, legs spread so Eddie could fit between them. Where he belonged.

As Eddie’s hands pushed Steve’s shirt up and Steve’s legs pulled him in impossibly closer, the thought that they were still in a public place occurred to Steve.

He ignored it as Eddie’s thumb brushed against his nipple and his teeth bit his bottom lip.

“Want you now,” Eddie groaned against Steve’s neck. “Want you forever.”

“Lock the door.” Steve ordered.

Eddie locked the door.

****

When they left the office, hair disheveled and suspicious stains on their shirts, they were met with a knowing look from Kim.

Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed Steve out the door by the small of his back.

“Still living with Wayne?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Could we go to yours?” Eddie asked hesitantly.

“Only if it can be ours.”

Eddie stopped him on the sidewalk, eyes blinking furiously. “You would want that? After I left?”

Steve smiled. “Are you gonna leave again or are you gonna let me love you?”

“You can still love me?”

“I couldn’t not love you.”

“Then let’s go to ours.”

[sweetyyhippyy]

Anything for You. Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader. *FLUFF*

Summary: Eddie helps his girlfriend take care of a messy situation

Word Count: 1.2k

TW: Periods, blood.

A.N.: Guess who's back... back again! This is a bit self indulgent because I’m (still) on my period and all I want is for Eddie to hold me and take care of me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The house was pitch black as Eddie tried his hardest not to wake his sleeping girlfriend up.

He wishes he would have been smart enough to keep a flashlight near the door so he could at least see where he was going instead of feeling around the air, hoping not to bump into a piece of furniture or run into the wall like he’s done many times in the past… or 2 days ago.

Work was long today, somehow the past 3 Fridays Eddie has been stuck working 13 hour shifts, guys at the garage who come in after him being sent home before him. Sure his body was tired and worn out, but getting those checks had been nice.

Finally he reaches the bedroom, stripping his work clothes off and leaving them in a trail to the bathroom so he could shower the smell of the grease and sweat off his body before going to sleep next to his girlfriend.

He smiles at her as he passes by, only seeing the back of her head as the light from the bathroom illuminates her. There was nothing better than snuggling next to her after a long day and feeling her relax into his body in her sleep.

After rinsing the suds off his body and drying himself off, he tiptoes back into the bedroom, grabbing a pair of boxers from the laundry basket full of clean clothes that needed to be put away and slipping them on.

If he had to stand up for 2 seconds longer, his knees would surely buckle. The hot shower really emphasized how worn out his body was.

His eyes adjust to the little light from the street, coming through their makeshift curtains. As he grabs the untouched sheets on the bed and pulls them back so he can slide in, he notices a dark patch on the bedding next to his girlfriend.

The longer he tries to focus his eyes better, trying to decipher what he was looking at, he notices a dark patch on the back of her shorts too.

He turns the light back on in the bathroom, not wanting to startle her with the light from the side table near her. The extra light confirming what he had thought.

“Babe, you gotta wake up for a sec.” He gently shakes her shoulder.

She inhales deeply before stretching her body, her arms raising above her head as she only opens one of her eyes to look at him, confused as to what’s going on.

“Hey, I gotta get you out of bed. I think you’re bleeding.”

Both of her eyes fly open, sitting up quickly. “Shit. Oh my god. Shit.” She panics, grabbing the sheets that were in her lap to cover herself. Her head falls into her hands in embarrassment, wanting nothing more than to crawl into her own skin. “I’m sorry, Eds. God this is so embarrassing. I’m sorry!”

Her period had come at least 3 days early, usually she was a step ahead and had something on the night before so this never happened.

He could see the immediate panic in her face as she realized she had bled onto their bed sheets.

“Hey, no. It’s okay. Go clean yourself up and I’ll take care of the sheets, okay? You’re okay, sweetheart.” Eddie says softly, reaching out to rub her back softly. “You need me to get you some new underwear and shorts?”

“Please?” She clenches her thighs together as she goes to the bathroom, stripping her clothes off and opting to jump into the shower to clean herself up.

Part of her wanted to cry from embarrassment. Eddie had never seen her leak out onto her clothes, and now her boyfriend was washing the blood off their sheets.

Of course now she felt the sharp cramps in her uterus and the sensitivity from her nipples as the water hits them.

She groans to herself at the pain, resting her forehead on the tile next to her, knowing she had at least 3 or 4 days of cramps that hurt much worse than this.

“Baby, I brought you some clean clothes. I left them on the counter.” Eddie’s voice calls from the other side of the shower curtain. “You okay?”

“Yeah I’ll be okay, babe. I’ll be out in a second.”

She waits for the door to shut before she turns the water off, grabbing the towel off the hook and wrapping it around herself.

She couldn’t help but smile seeing a new outfit for her laying out on the counter and a pad sitting on top of the pile. He really was the best boyfriend she could ever ask for.

Once she’s dressed and settled, she nervously steps out to the bedroom only to find Eddie struggling to put the fitted sheet on the mattress.

“You need some help there?” She snorts a laugh.

Eddie’s tongue sticks out the corner of his mouth in concentration as he tucks the corner in, smiling in success that none of the other corners snapped back up like they had before. He laughs to himself in victory, hopping back onto his feet. “Got it finally. Lemme just throw the sheet on and you can lay back down. I couldn’t find the heating pad but I got you some water.”

Her whole heart swelled at his thoughtfulness and she felt a small lump in her throat build. There was no way to control the tears that pricked her eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Eddie asks, walking over to her and touching her arms in comfort.

“It’s nothing. You’re just really sweet to me.” She wraps her arms around him, nuzzling her face in his chest as she hugs him tightly.

Eddie kisses the top of her head, running his hands up and down her back slowly. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

She waits as he fixes the top sheet on the bed, helping him throw the pillows back on and placing the comforter back on the lower half of the bed.

Both of them snuggle into bed, finally together after a long day away from each other.

Eddie pats his chest, motioning her to come lay on his chest. She snuggles happily on his chest, letting her arm drape over his stomach in hopes she can fall back to sleep like before.

Of course as soon as she settles, she feels a tight cramp start, making her whine uncomfortably and scrunch her body up in a ball. “Sorry, it just hurts.”

Eddie shuffles down the bed, laying her on her back again while he rests his head on her tummy, letting his chest be her heating pad. He makes a mental note to drive to the drug store to go find her a heating pad tomorrow. His hands rests on her hips, his fingers gently dancing across the skin to help relax her.

She relaxes against his body, knowing his warmth would help the pain and his weight on her help her drift to sleep. Her own hands find their way to his hair, massaging his scalp.

Eddie moans happily, letting his eyes flutter closed.

This was all he thought about while at work, coming home to his beautiful girlfriend and laying down with her, holding her against his body while he slept.

The faster he fell asleep meant the sooner he would wake up and have all weekend to spend next to her.

“Thank you for taking care of me, baby. I know you were tired after working all day.” She whispers to him.

With the little bit of energy he had left, he turns his head and kisses her tummy, quickly nuzzling his head back against her body. “You know I got you, angel.”

[bbyleiah]

CARNAL - CHOSO KAMO ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ In which Choso is dating the reader’s best-friend but is secretly in love with the reader and blinded with an insatiable lust for her. What happens when he can no longer hold back his cravings for her? ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

cw: black fem sub!reader, switch!choso, cheating, dry humping (he humps the reader’s hand in a movie theater), drooling, oral sex (f!receiving), pleasure dom!choso, praise kink (choso loves praise), biting, lots of fluids, fingering, missionary position, choking, overstimulation, desperate choso, whiny choso, choso begs a lot, sexually frustrated choso, obsessed choso, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of dirty talk, marking, etc.

word count : no clue honestly 😭.

sn : I wrote this based on a movie I watched that inspired me 😭. I don’t condone cheating but it’s fun to write about sometimes 🫣.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑⊱••⭑

“What if he’s asexual?” Your bestfriend; Jayla wondered as she laid out on your bed while you got dressed. “He could be. Or maybe sex just isn’t on his mind.” You hummed as you put on a red Ed Hardy sweat set that was cute but simple. She tutted in disbelief, “Girl be serious. He’s a man. Of course sex is on his mind.” She said assuredly. “Well maybe he’s just shy then. You know how he is.” You laughed.

“How long can a person be shy for though? It’s been three months and he hasn’t even kissed me fully yet. I feel like we’re in some kind of kindergarten relationship.” She groaned in exaggerated despair. “That is a little questionable..but give him time. He could be waiting for the right moment, you know? Maybe he’s a traditional romantic.” You tried your best to ease her worries.

She sighed, “We’ll see. I don’t want to seem like I’m desperate though but I just hate feeling unwanted by my own boyfriend.” She pouted. “Awh, I get it. I’m sure Choso doesn’t want you to feel that way. Just talk to him about it, okay?” You comforted her with a hug. “I will. After the movie.” She huffed softly and as if on cue Choso pulled up. The three of you were going to see a movie together that Jayla had been raving about.

You were used to being their third wheel so you didn’t mind it. You met Choso through Jayla and the two of you naturally became acquainted. You considered him a good friend and he treated Jayla well mostly so you approved of him. “You two almost ready?” He asked as he walked in and stood at your bedroom door. Jayla immediately threw herself on him, peppering his face in kisses and telling him how much she missed him.

“Yuck. Don’t taint my room with that mushy shit.” You commented with faux distaste as you laughed. “Haterr. Go get you a man.” Jayla teased and you flipped her off. “I don’t need a man boo, I’m cool where I’m at.” You laughed honestly as you applied your usual brown lip liner and lip gloss combo. “Hey Cho~” you greeted him with a hug once you were ready to go. “Hey (✰)” he greeted back politely, as the two of you hugged.

Choso couldn’t help the way his eyes fluttered slightly as he inhaled your sweet scent. A sigh itching to release from his chest at the way you patted the back of his head the way you always did whenever the two of you hugged. He knew that he shouldn’t be this affected by you, especially over a hug that was less than a second long. But it seemed Choso always lost a bit of his composure whenever he was near you.

You were completely unaware of the impact your presence had on Choso. Simply viewing him as your bestfriend’s boyfriend and a decent guy that you were around often. You sat in the backseat, tuning out Jayla and Choso’s couple talk on the ride to the theater. “Sis, I was thinking that maybe me and Cho could sit separately from you?” Jayla suddenly suggested once you guy’s arrived at the theater.

It caught you off guard for a second until you saw the mischievous look in her eye and realized her plan. “Ohh, that’s cool with me. I don’t need you two ruining my movie experience anyways.” You shrugged with a laugh. “Wait, why would we sit separately?” Choso cut in, clearly oblivious. You and Jayla glanced at each other knowingly. “Because babe, don’t you want a little privacy?” She attempted to hint and convince him.

“That’s rude to (✰) though. Otherwise we shouldn’t have brought her along. She can sit with us.” He expressed, seemingly trying to stick up for you. “Oh, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be fine on my ow-“ you attempted to reassure him but Choso cut in again. “No. You’re sitting with us.” He stated, leaving no room for objections as he got out of the car. You were dumbfounded and Jayla was fuming.

“Well..sorry honey. But I mean you can still get your freak on..I’ll just act like I’m not there.” You told her, feeling awkward now. “Ugh, he’s so stupid.” was all Jayla grumbled as she got out of the car with you following after her. You tried to ignore the tension floating around now as you guys got seated in the theater. Choso sat in the middle while you and Jayla sat on each side of him. The movie started with no words exchanged between the three of you.

You just focused on the movie and munched on popcorn quietly while paying no mind to the tense couple next to you. About 40 or so minutes into the movie while you were intently watching the film, Jayla was busy trying to make her move once again. She was easing her hand up Choso’s thigh, trying to get him hard as her hand trailed over his crotch. Choso tensed, uncomfortable and far from turned on.

He didn’t want to hurt her feelings but he also didn’t want to be touched by her. “Stop babe.” He whispered as he physically moved her hand off him. Jayla was embarrassed now and fed up, tears filling her eyes. “Fuck you choso.” She muttered as she got up and stormed out of the theater. That’s when you finally pulled your attention away from the huge screen to gather what occurred next to you. “What happened? Is Jay okay?” You asked Choso, concerned about your bestfriend.

Choso couldn’t focus much on your question, too distracted by the way your breath tingled against his earlobe as you whispered to him. “She’s alright..just a little upset right now. I’ll check on her later.” He muttered once he gathered his thoughts, although you found it a little odd that he didn’t seem as concerned as you were. “Are you two good? It seems the two of you haven’t been on the same page lately..” you knew that bringing this up during a movie probably wasn’t the best choice but you had to know his perspective.

He sighed, “My mind’s just been a little off lately. I’m working on it though so I can be better for Jayla.” He half told the truth and half lied. “You know you can talk to me about whatever’s been on your mind..if you don’t feel comfortable talking with Jayla.” You offered, innocently and just out of kindness. Choso couldn’t possibly tell you that the thing that’s been harboring his mind was you. He thought about you way more than he should and it made him feel terrible but you were ingrained in his head. Everything about you.

“I don’t know if I can tell you either though…even if I wanted to.” He whispered as he looked into your eyes. The lights illuminating from the theater screen making him appear in flashes of bright lights and darkness. Even if you couldn’t see him clearly, you could feel the hardness of his stare and the way it left goosebumps on your skin because of the words and emotions hidden within his usually dead eyes.

“I’m a safe space Cho..you can trust me..” you said softly as your hand moved to grab his in a comforting manner. You didn’t know what was going on with Choso but you knew how much Jayla loved him so you wanted to be there for him for her sake. Choso felt something inside him awaken at the feel of your skin on his. He wanted so so badly to kiss your hand all the way up to those pretty glossed up lips of yours. Wanted to see the way the gloss would smear and make you look a mess with his spit coating your lips after he shoved his tongue down your throat.

He could just imagine the way you’d whine into his mouth and grow breathless with each kiss he gave you. If he could he would shove his fingers into your cunt right in the middle of this theater. Knowing how pretty you’d look squirming and trying to hold back those heavenly moans. Unable to quiet the faint squelching of your wet cunt squeezing his thick fingers. The lewd sound being drowned out by the booming speakers within the enclosed theater.

Choso snapped out of his perverted fantasy when you gave his hand a light squeeze. “Cho sweetie, are you okay?” You asked, now feeling concerned for him as well. Choso nodded, a blush creeping up his neck once realizing how hard he was in his black baggy jeans. His cock was throbbing over a simple hand hold and his own imagination. He was pathetic. “You look a little sick though honey..” you frowned as you placed your hand on his forehead and on the sides of his face and neck, checking his temperature.

Choso had to hold back a groan at the physical attention you were giving him. Biting down on his bottom lip as he soaked up the bare minimal touch you were providing him. He loved feeling your flesh against his. He craved it. To him, it was better than any drug. You started to pull your hand away but choso grabbed it with a startling bruising grip. “D-Don’t stop..your touch is nice..” he breathed out as he looked at you with lidded eyes.

“Choso..maybe I should take you to a hospital..” you muttered, worried but also slightly freaked out. You had never seen Choso like this before. He seemed so stirred up when he was usually composed and level headed. “I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine, I just..” he didn’t know how to explain himself he just knew he wanted you to touch him. “Touch me. Please.”

You were stunned at his words, eyes wide and feeling like your ears were playing tricks on you. You were too busy processing his begging to register him moving your hand onto his crotch. The gasp you let out was immediate as Choso began rutting up into your palm. “Fuck..” he groaned under his breath as he melted under your touch. He slumped into the theater seat, eyes fluttering closed as he humped your hand like an animal in heat.

He didn’t have a strong hold on your hand so you could’ve easily removed it and stopped him but it seemed your body and brain weren’t in sync at the moment. You just watched, enamored as choso pathetically used your hand to get off. You could feel the way his cock throbbed and jumped under your palm. He was so hard and turned on and you didn’t have a clue as to why. “Feels good..” he whined into your neck as he buried his face into it, his head resting on your shoulder.

Perspiration began to coat your skin as choso panted against your neck while his hips continuously rocked against your pliant hand. You felt the urge to squeeze his cock, wanting to feel just how heavy and swollen it was. But the rational side of you knew it was wrong. That this whole situation was bad and shouldn’t be happening at all. It was hard to think straight though with choso whining and grunting into your ear, drool starting to dribble from his mouth and down your neck.

“C-Choso..we’re in public..” you managed to finally speak in a breathy whisper. Although it was disconcerting that those were first words to leave your mouth instead of more pressing issues like how choso was fucking your hand while your bestfriend was away who happened to be his girlfriend. “I know..j-just let me finish, please.” He whined as he pressed your hand down harder to add more friction. “Jayla will be back soon..” you reminded him, worry filling you again as you did a quick glance around for her.

Choso did not give a shit about any of that at the moment though. His mind solely focused on the warmth and pressure of your hand against his clothed cock. He wished so badly that he could feel you skin to skin but even he knew that it would be crossing a line that he wouldn’t be able to come back from. You tensed up this time once feeling Choso’s tongue lick up the side of your neck all the way up to your ear. You hated the way your cunt pulsed at the feeling, your thighs rubbing together instinctively.

Despite your mostly calm composure, you were getting turned on by this whole situation. It was hard not to be when Choso was acting so erotic and feral. You could feel the way your panties began to stick to your folds as you grew wet while choso pleasured himself to the feel of you against him. You were barely even touching him but with how he was acting you’d think you were actually fucking him. “want you so fucking badly..need you ngh.” He muttered against you as he moaned.

Against your better judgement and earlier restraint, you began to help him chase his orgasm. Your hand moving to stroke and squeeze his cock. It was worth it just to hear the way he fell apart and moaned your name. “Oh fuck, just like that. ah- you’re so fucking perfect. You’re the only one that gets me like this uhn-“ he rambled in between moans and whines. You could tell he was close by the way his breath quickened and how he began to thrust harder into your palm.

“Choso..” you began to utter his name and as soon as you did he came. That was all it took for him to spill ropes of thick cum into his pants. He bit down on your neck as he came to hold back his loud moan. You couldn’t fight the whimper you let out at the quick painful sting. He pulled back after he calmed down, sighing in content as he slouched in his seat again. His teeth marks left imprinted in your skin.

You didn’t know if it was good luck or karma having a sense of humor because Jayla came back right after. “We’re leaving. I’m done with this shit.” She said to you and choso. Choso was still out of it, seemingly dazed. An outsider would think he was high off something. Not knowing that something was you. You instantly snapped back into reality once hearing Jayla’s voice and seeing the state she was in. It was obvious she’d been crying with how red and puffy her eyes were.

“Uh Cho, I’ll walk to the car with Jay..you should get yourself together..” you told him. He just nodded in response. Jayla glared at him, hating his nonchalant attitude even though she knew that he knew she was upset. Choso was unbothered by her glare, his attention still focused on you as he licked his lips. You ignored his stare and began to walk out with Jayla huffing angrily beside you.

“I hate him. I’m tired of being the only one trying in this relationship. Am I just not attractive to him?” She asked you with tears in her eyes again. This time you didn’t have much of an answer for her. Especially after what just happened between you and choso. It played on a loop in your mind like a broken record. You discreetly tried to use your jacket to hide the bite mark on your neck. “Sis..I don’t know. He could be abstinent..?” You attempted to give her answers.

“Look, just focus on the romance aspect of your relationship for now. I’m sure sex will come eventually.” You reassured her with more confidence behind your words this time. She sighed, “I guess..it’s still embarrassing though that I tried to touch him in the theater and he told me to stop.” She frowned as the two of you got into the car. You remained silent, not having much of a response to that.

But you convinced yourself that it all made sense, that maybe that’s why choso was so turned on — because of Jayla. Not because of you. Your denial was very short lived though because your phone buzzed with a message from choso.

Cho-Cho 🚂 : 1 attachment

The notification had your heart feeling like it stopped beating for a moment. You were holding your breath as you opened it. You were deeply unprepared for the image that awaited you. Choso had sent you a picture of the mess he made in his pants. The cum soaked through his briefs and ran down his pants leg. The globs of cum stuck to his cock that was somehow still half hard. You immediately closed the message, shutting off your phone screen.

Choso knew you weren’t going to respond to his text but he still couldn’t help the disappointment that filled him when he saw that you left him on read. He cleaned himself up in the restroom before he joined the two of you in the car and began to drive. The car suddenly felt impossibly more stuffy when Choso got in. The heavy silence and tension was almost suffocating. Your mind was scrambled with how to handle this newfound situation.

A part of you cursed Choso for putting you in this predicament that could cost you to lose your bestfriend. Another part of you couldn’t fight the lingering arousal that wouldn’t leave your body. Your mind consumed with the way Choso turned into putty under your touch. You also had so many questions as to why Choso couldn’t get off with Jayla when his dick clearly wasn’t broken. Your string of thoughts came to a halt when Jayla broke the deafening silence in the car.

“Take me to my house. I’m not staying with you tonight.” She told Choso. He only hummed in response to her and with you knowing Jayla well, you knew that only made her more upset. “You’re not even going to apologize? Ask if I’m okay? Nothing?” She called him out. “M’tired, can we talk about this tomorrow?” He finally spoke with a bored lazy tone. Jayla scoffed, “This is some bullshit.” she muttered while shaking her head in disbelief.

It wasn’t much longer until the car came to a stop in front of Jayla’s house, even though the tension made the drive feel longer. Jayla shot one last glare at Choso and turned to you uttering a ‘kill him for me.’ before she got out of the car. She slammed the door, the sound making you cringe a little. You frowned watching her walk angrily into her home, feeling sympathetic but also guilty. “Come sit in the front.” Choso’s voice had your attention instantly on him.

His stare was intense on you and he seemingly appeared more relaxed than he had been when Jayla was in the car. “Uhm..I don’t think that’s a good idea. Speaking of which Cho, what happened earlier shouldn’t have happened and you should really apologize to Jay..if you’re feeling sexually frustrated? Or something..you should figure that out with her..” you struggled to find the right words. It was too awkward and you were still processing everything.

“I’m not sexually frustrated. Even if I was, the cause would be you. Not Jayla.” He said honestly and shock filled you again. “Don’t say that..” you muttered. “It’s the truth. Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?. I can’t fuck Jayla because all I think about is you.” He admitted. You were at a loss for words and he took your silence as his cue to keep talking. “Just your presence alone drives me crazy. The things I’d do to you if gave me the chance..fuck it’s all I think about.”

“How fuckin’ pretty you are and how pretty I know your pussy is too, how wet you could get for me, how good you’d feel pressed against me, and how sweet your moans would sound. I wanna feel your skin against mine so fucking badly. Feel like I’d die without it. Do you ever think of me like that?” He rambled and you could see the hope shining in his eyes as he awaited your response. Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about him in that way. until today, and now you felt conflicted.

You let out a breath before you spoke, “Choso…I shouldn’t think about you like that and you shouldn’t think about me like that either. You’re not mine.” You replied. You were trying your best to remain level headed and maintain boundaries despite the flutters in your chest and the ache between your legs. “I could be yours if you wanted me to be.” He said it with no hesitation, like his relationship with Jayla was the last thing on his mind.

Honestly, it was. He couldn’t think about anything other than you, especially when he was in your presence. He’d risk it all for you and that was becoming clearer to you the more he confessed. “I’d be so good for you. I’d do anything you’d ask of me.” He was bordering on begging now and you didn’t know how to react. You never had a man this desperate for you. It was foreign to you and it was especially jarring because it was the ever so stoic choso turning pathetic and subservient all for you.

While you were trying to gather up a proper response, Choso moved to get out of the car and climb into the backseat with you. “Wait-..what are you doing?” You asked him in confusion and slight shock. “Want to make you feel about me the way I do about you. Want you to sit on my face.” You didn’t know if your heart could handle any more of Choso’s unpredictable words and actions.

Your breath caught in your throat at his blunt request. “Don’t think about it…just let me show you how good I am, please?” He was whining now, his hands moving up your thighs. You couldn’t help the way your legs instinctively parted for him. His hands stopped at the band of your sweat pants, his eyes staring at you expectantly as he anxiously awaited your approval.

You knew you were going to regret this later but it was hard to say no to choso, especially when he was looking at you like that. “Lie back.” You breathed out. He instantly obeyed, lying down on the two backseats while you adjusted yourself to climb on top of him. It was a tight space but Choso didn’t seem to have any complaints, just eager to please you. You slid off your sweatpants and panties in one motion, tossing them aside.

Choso watched you with hungry eyes, panting softly as he grew excited and more eager by the second. A sliver of shame filled you at how wet you were already. Choso’s needy rambles spurred you on and now you intended to put his mouth to good use. You got comfortable as you hovered over his waiting mouth, shivers racking through you as his breath fanned against your slick cunt. He groaned as he breathed in the scent of your cunt, his eyes rolling a bit.

This was like his dream coming true. He already felt like he was in heaven and he hadn’t even tasted you yet. You bit down on your bottom lip as you lowered yourself down onto Choso’s face, cautious to not put all your weight on him. He didn’t waste a single second before dragging his tongue through your sodden folds. The two of you moaned in unison. He was hooked after that first taste, his arms moving to wrap around your legs as he held you down and began to eat your pussy like his life depended on it.

His tongue lapping sloppily at your cunt as he swallowed up all of your juices. Your hands tangled into his hair as you moaned and whined out, your hips rocking as you grinded down onto his tongue. “feels s’good cho” you whined as you continued to ride his face to your heart’s content. He loved the praise, feeling more eager to please you as he greedily ate you out. You were so wet, soaking the lower half of Choso’s face and his neck.

He couldn’t get enough of it, wanting to drown in your essence. He felt like he’d die a happy man suffocated between your legs. Your back arched and your legs closed tighter around his head as he began to suckle on your clit like it was his favorite hard candy. Swallowing up the sticky sap that gathered on the swollen nub. He moaned nonstop into your cunt, obsessed with the taste of you on his tongue. The vibrations of his moans causing your legs to tremble as you let out little whines and mewls.

“s-shit! choso s’too much” you cried out as Choso began to push his tongue into your little hole, fucking his tongue into you while you jerked and wailed. He tightened his grip on you to keep you still as his tongue explored your gummy walls. Tears filled your eyes at the immense pleasure. You were sensitive since you hadn’t had anyone touch you in a while and choso was turning your mind and body into mush. It seemed he knew exactly what to do to get you falling apart.

The fog in your brain got cleared up for a second when your phone began to ring. You whined and choso groaned in annoyance, slapping your thigh once you began to look for your phone. “Leave it.” He muttered into your cunt, his voice having more rasp to it than it did minutes ago. “J-Just let me check who it is…” you stuttered out in between moans. Reality hit you once seeing the caller was Jayla. You guessed she probably assumed you were home now and ranted to rant to you more.

“oh shit..” you breathed out. Guilt washed over you again as you realized the two of you were still parked outside of Jayla’s house while you were busy riding her boyfriend’s face. Choso nipped lightly at your clit, making you flinch and focus your attention back on him. His dark eyes were already looking up at you. “Ignore it.” He mumbled as he pulled away from your cunt to press wet kisses on your inner thighs.

“B-But..this is wrong choso..” you bit down on your lip as you began to contemplate everything. “Just stop thinking for right now. Worry about it later. I’m not stopping until you cum on my face princess.” He finally had you and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste. You whined, conflicted but deciding that since you had already started then you might as well finish. “Never again after this, okay?” You said as your hips began to move again.

“Mhm.” was all he hummed in response. He was gonna make sure that this wasn’t the last time but he’d let you believe that it was. Choso slid one of his fingers into your cunt as he continued lapping up all your sweet fluids. The stimulation successfully making your brain shut off again as you got lost in the way Choso’s played with your body. He groaned at the way your pussy spurt out more fluids, adding another finger into your greedy cunt.

“You’re like a fucking fountain.” He moaned as he drank up your sweet essence that was now soaking his hand. His fingers curling inside you and making you squeal and cry out. “Cho! m’gonna-!” You whined out as you fucked yourself on Choso’s fingers and his tongue with vigor, chasing your approaching orgasm. “You better fucking cum for me. I want all of it. Make a mess out of me pretty girl.” He encouraged as he thrusted his fingers into you faster.

He sucked your clit into his mouth again, rolling his tongue around it and you felt as if your brain short-circuited. Mouth parting in a silent moan as you came hard, soaking Choso’s face and adding to the mess you already created. “That’s it. s’fucking good.” He moaned, mewling in delight as he slurped up as much of your release as he possibly could. His tongue licking between the crease of your thigh to your hip. He seemed as if he wanted to devour every inch of you.

You whined and climbed off of choso to get him to stop his incessant licking at your body. He had the stamina to keep going but you were getting overstimulated. Embarrassment filled you once seeing the state you left him in. His pretty signature ponytails all messed up and undone, his lips swollen and red, his face and neck soaked with your essence down to his shirt. He had the biggest grin on his face though, happy that he got what he wanted.

You were heavily relaxed now after having one of the best orgasms of your life. But even with the post orgasm haze over you, you still had some rationality left. “We’re gonna move on from this and act like it didn’t happen, okay?” You told him, still slightly breathless as you sat in his lap while he sat up. Choso pulled his shirt off since it was drenched now and your breath caught in your throat seeing his upper body.

He had various pretty intricate tattoos over his slightly chiseled form and a dark happy trail that had you practically drooling. “How can I move on and forget the best moment of my life?” He said as he grabbed your waist to pull you closer. “You’re being dramatic. You also have a girlfriend if you haven’t forgotten.” You reminded him but didn’t stop him as he began to leave kisses on your neck, his lips still slicked up with your cum.

“This is about us right now. shh.” He brushed off, purposefully ignoring the reminder of Jayla’s existence. “You’re a terrible -ah boyfriend, stop that!” You moaned when choso began to suck hickies onto your neck and you pulled at his hair to stop him. He whined at the sting of you pulling his hair. “Fine, I’ll stop. But can I get one kiss, please?” He pouted as he asked, looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

You were in disbelief at how shameless he was. “You’re unbelievable. Are you always this needy and persistent?” You kept your grip on his hair to keep him in place. “Only for you.” He grinned with a wink. “Just one kiss and then I’ll take you home. Hm?” He tried to persuade you. So far you hadn’t put up much resistance to him or his advances and you’d already crossed too many lines to go back now.

“Fine, we’ve already gotten this far anyways.” You accepted as you let his hair go. Choso was ecstatic to finally get the chance to kiss you. He didn’t waste any more time as his hands moved to cup your face and his lips pressed against yours. To your surprise, the kiss was slow and way more intimate than you expected. He was taking his time and you didn’t have any complaints about it.

Choso was savoring the moment because he didn’t know if he’d get the chance to kiss you again after this. To him the world felt right with your plush lips molded perfectly against his. Your arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss got progressively deeper, Choso pulling you flush against him and holding you tight as his tongue slid into your mouth.

His tongue tangled with yours and you let out soft moans into the kiss that made his head spin. Choso refused to break the kiss even though the two of you could barely breathe. Every time you even attempted to pull away he’d just kiss you harder, sucking on your tongue and licking into your mouth, hooked on the taste of you. All you could do was melt into the kiss, allowing Choso to kiss you as much as he wanted to.

He only pulled away once he was fully satisfied, leaving the two of you panting with a string of saliva connecting your lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He admitted softly into the comfortable silence within the car. “I can tell…it was nice..” you told him honestly and he smiled. He was content with knowing you enjoyed it as much as he did. “Let’s get going before Jay sees us and murders us both.” He joked but you didn’t laugh.

“Not funny. We both fucked up but let’s not talk about it right now.” You stated as you slid your sweatpants back on and handed choso his shirt. “Understandable.” He obliged and dropped the topic. “I’m never washing this shirt. I hope you know that.” He laughed but he was serious and your face scrunched up in disgust. “That’s nasty cho, ew. don’t do that.”

“It’s like a trophy to me now. I got you to cum on my face. My proudest moment, honestly.” He gloated with a smug smile. Embarrassment mixed in with your feelings of disgust as choso flaunted his tainted shirt. “J-Just shut up and drive.” You grumbled shyly. He cooed, “You’re adorable.” He chuckled and pecked your forehead before he climbed back into the driver’s seat. You moved to sit in the passenger seat as well and got settled as choso began to drive you home.

There was a comfortable silence on the drive there and you hugged him goodbye once he dropped you off. The events of the day hit you as you did your night routine. So many different emotions weighed on you but you decided to try and let the situation go and move on even with the heaviness that weighed on your heart.

The next few days it was hard to forget what happened though with Choso constantly texting you and calling you. You even considered blocking his number at one point because of how incessantly he contacted you. You never meant to intentionally avoid him but you felt like you had to when he constantly texted you about how much he wanted you, missed the taste of you, and missed feeling you pressed against him.

He even sent videos of him pleasuring himself while moaning your name, which you shamefully watched while also self indulging. But you knew Choso was ultimately off limits and you’d hoped that by ignoring him he’d eventually get over you. You learned that he was far from over you when he showed up while you were at Jayla’s house. According to Jayla the two of them made up and you were happy for them.

You hadn’t expected him to come over though. His eyes bore into you as he walked up to where you and Jayla sat on her couch. “Hi baby~” he said to Jayla as the two of them kissed and hugged. You suddenly felt really uncomfortable and awkward, especially since Choso didn’t look away from you for a second. “Hi choso.” You greeted him out of courtesy and to appear normal.

He raised a brow at you, surprised that you even spoke to him. He was also thrown off by the fact that you didn’t hug him like you usually did nor did you call him by his nickname you gave him. “Hi.” He replied bluntly, tone dry. Jayla glanced between the two of you, confused at the underlying tension. “Y’all good..?” She asked. You were quick to nod while Choso hummed a small ‘mhm.’

“I think I’m gonna give you two some privacy..I’ll go upstairs.” You announced as you stood up. “Oh sis you don’t have to-“ Jayla started but Choso cut her off. “Let her go.” He said and this was when you realized he was angry. His eyes holding a slight glare to them, shoulders stiff and posture straight, his tone of voice harsher than usual. Him being angry at you made you feel a pang in your heart but you ignored it.

You didn’t utter another word, quietly making your way upstairs to Jayla’s bedroom. You were regretting not actually leaving and going to your own house now, feeling uncomfortable with staying in Jayla’s house while Choso was there. You kept yourself entertained for a while though until someone came into the room. You perked up thinking it was Jayla, only to see Choso walking in.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” He cut right to the chase. “I had nothing to say to you. I told you to move on and forget about what happened.” You sighed. He scoffed, “You really thought I’d forget that night?. I haven’t been able to erase it from my mind. You don’t just fucking ride my face and then go ghost on me!” He snapped and you gasped, immediately rushing to slap your hand over his mouth.

“Are you fucking crazy?! Quiet down” you whisper yelled to him. “Also you’re the one that asked me to ride your face, lunatic. You knew that it wasn’t going to go further than that.” You huffed as you returned his glare. “So that’s it, huh?. It meant nothing to you?. It was that easy for you to forget it?” He questioned you and you hesitated to respond, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Forgetting is the right thing to do.” You answered after a moment of silence. “That’s not a good enough answer. I don’t give a shit about what’s right and you know that. I just want you, can’t you see that? Why won’t you give me a chance?” He pleaded and you frowned at the desperate look in his eyes. “Cho..I…” your words trailed off when Choso suddenly kissed you, making your eyes widen. “Wait-“ you said as you tried to push him away.

“No. You want me too, you just don’t want to admit it” he murmured against your lips as he kissed you again. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be letting me kiss you right now.” He pointed out as he looked into your eyes. You hated that he was right, no matter how much you tried to deny it. “Shut up.” You huffed softly before you kissed him this time. He let out a laugh into the kiss as he returned it.

The kiss escalated quickly as Choso slid his tongue into your mouth and as your fingers tangled into his hair. Choso sucked on your tongue and you let out a moan into the kiss, making him grip your hips tight and pull you closer. The kiss died just as quick as it began once you heard Jayla’s footsteps climbing up the stairs. “Shit.” You muttered as you pushed Choso away and hurriedly wiped your lipgloss residue off of his lips.

Choso was just staring at you smiling like an idiot. “Go! Before she comes in here.” You whisper yelled as you pushed at his chest. “Tell me I can come see you tonight. Then I’ll go.” He propositioned with a grin. You narrowed your eyes at him, “You just don’t quit, do you?” He shook his head in response. “Fine. You can come see me tonight.” You sighed and he silently cheered and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before he finally exited the room.

Jayla walked in afterwards. “You two solved whatever y’all got going on?” She asked you. Her question caught you off guard, “Uh yeah. We talked things out.” You hummed. “Great. I sent him up here because I’d rather not have my boyfriend and my bestfriend hating each other.” She laughed. “You got into it with him over how he treats me, didn’t you?” She questioned.

Guilt ate away at you at how oblivious Jayla was and at the reality of how much of a terrible friend you were. “Mhm! You told me to kill him for you so I ruined his night that day.” You lied with the best fake laugh you could muster. She seemed to believe you because she just grinned back at you, seemingly satisfied. “But sis, I do gotta admit something..” she suddenly lowered her voice and got serious as she moved closer to you.

You perked up, fully intrigued to know whatever secret she was going to confess to you. “What is it?” you whispered. “I cheated on Choso that night..” she revealed and you gasped in genuine shock, staring at her in disbelief. Despite the rifts in their relationship you never expected Jayla to go against her loyalty to Choso but it seemed that lately the unexpected kept coming.

“Really?!” You blurted out, unable to contain your shock. “Shh! yes really, I was too frustrated and craved to feel something. I was also angry as fuck so I was being reckless. I can’t say that I regret it but it won’t happen again. I think Choso is actually going to work to keep our relationship going.” She told you with a small sigh. You were silent, processing the newfound information. You felt the urge to tell her your own little secret but you knew your secret most likely wouldn’t go over so well.

“Does choso know?” You asked her. You doubted she told him but you were still curious. “Of course not. You think I’m crazy?. I’m not ruining my relationship. He’ll never know and I’m okay with that.” She shrugged. “Wow..well you know I won’t tell him. That’s between y’all two.” You reassured her and it was genuine. Even though you haven’t been the ideal bestfriend as of late, you still wouldn’t tell her secret.

She grinned and tackled you with a hug. “That’s why I love you bestie boo.” She mushed as she squeezed you and you laughed. For just this moment things felt as they did before you got entangled with Choso. It was nice and made your heart swell with nostalgia and happiness. But in the back of your mind you knew this feeling was temporary because Choso was still coming to see you later and that alone makes this moment feel bittersweet.

Once you were home all you could think about was Choso and everything that had happened in the past few days. As the hours ticked by you began to regret giving him permission to come see you. Even though part of you did want to see him, the other half felt it was best if you didn’t. The war in your mind got put on hold when you heard knocking at your door. You already knew who it was so you debated opening it for a brief moment.

“Come on baby, let me in.” Choso called out from the other side of the wooden door. The way he called you ‘baby’ affected you way more than it should’ve. The small pet name possessing you to walk over and open the door for him. “I’m not your baby.” You told him as you looked up at him. Your words contradicting to the beating of your heart and the way you actually felt.

“You can be though. Or would you prefer a different name?. There’s plenty of options. Honey, sweetie, love, babe, princess, sunshine, my pretty girl, my gorgeous girl, my girl. Mine. I could go on and on you know.” He rambled and even though it was a tad bit cheesy, it had you grinning. He smiled once seeing you smile. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that don’t you?” He stated and you felt like he was buttering you up now but it was working.

“Just shut up and come in.” You laughed and he didn’t hesitate to oblige. His hand instantly moving to grasp you as he entered your home. He was touching you like it was instinctive for him. His hands caressing your sides and your back as he held you close with his face buried in your neck, breathing in your scent. “You gonna let me have what I want this time?” He murmured against your neck.

“Hm, I don’t know. What is it that you want exactly?” You were teasing him now. You knew exactly what he wanted but it was fun to see how desperate he could get. “You. I want you. All of you. If you’ll let me.” He said as he pulled away to look into your eyes, waiting for you to give him any signal to have access to you. You let out a soft exhale of breath as you gave him a small nod of your head.

You decided to just ignore your guilty conscience for now and enjoy the moment. Choso’s face instantly lit up and he grinned before kissing you deeply and picking you up. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way Choso kissed you. Every single time he kissed you as if he was trying to savor every press of your lips against his. He carried you up to your room and broke the kiss as he laid you down onto your bed.

“Fuck…I can’t believe this is actually happening.” He muttered as he stared down at you adoringly. His gaze making you feel shy. “Don’t just stare at me. Do something before I change my mind.” You huffed softly and he laughed. “If you think I’m going to rush this, you’re crazy.” He uttered while shaking his head as he ran his hands up your thighs until he gripped the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He pulled them down along with your panties, letting out a breath once seeing your cunt on display. “She’s so pretty.” He whispered, almost as if he was talking directly to your pussy and it had you flustered. A shiver coasted your body as he placed a soft kiss on your mound, spreading your lips with his fingers as he placed another kiss on your clit.

You knew he was taking his sweet time but you felt like he was teasing you as you grew more needy by the second. You let out a small whine and tried to shift your hips closer to him, hoping he’d catch the hint. Thankfully he did, sliding a finger into your eager hole. He groaned under his breath as he watched your wet cunt suck his finger in. “You’re so tight. When’s the last time this pretty pussy got some attention?”

“The other night, when you ate my pussy out.” You answered honestly with a moan as you pushed back onto Choso’s thick finger. “Cute. But that’s not what I meant baby.” He chuckled softly as he looked up at you. “I meant, when’s the last time this cute cunt was stuffed full, hm?” He reiterated as he pressed another soft kiss to your clit while he inserted a second finger into you.

You shrugged, “I-I don’t know..it’s been awhile..” you muttered shyly in slight embarrassment as you looked away from him. Your answer surprised him. Yeah, he hadn’t seen you with any guys in the time period he’s known you, but he thought you were way too pretty to not have guys practically kissing your feet. “so that’s why this needy cunt is swallowing my fingers like this. Poor princess is just hungry for some dick.” He cooed and you whined.

He spit onto your pussy and added a third finger as he continued giving your pussy the attention it deserved. His fingers thrusting into you at a fast pace as you mewled and squirmed, growing wetter and drenching Choso’s fingers. Choso was enamored with the sight of your cunt clinging to his fingers and the way it gushed every time he pushed in and out. The squelching sound music to his ears.

“feels s’good cho..” you whined and he reveled in the praise. He wanted to please you as much as possible just to keep hearing that. He began to suck on your clit as he curled his fingers inside you, making you gasp and grip your bedsheets. “you always taste so fucking good” he groaned and couldn’t help but to start lapping up the sweet tangy nectar that poured from your cunt incessantly. He was so messy as he slurped and drooled onto your wet cunt, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers.

You were obsessed with the way choso ate you out as if he couldn’t get enough of you. He was by far the best head you’d ever received and you were addicted to his mouth now. “I want you to cum and make a mess out of me, can you do that for me baby?” he asked as he looked up at you, pulling away from your cunt and licking his lips. You nodded quickly in response and moved to eagerly grab at his hair to pull his face back where you needed him most.

Choso chuckled at how needy you were being, pride filling him because he was the cause of it. Choso focused his attention on your throbbing clit as his fingers dug deep into you, caressing your slick walls that pulsed and creamed on his hand. “mmpfh- fuck..” you moaned, biting down on your bottom lip as you tugged at Choso’s hair and rocked against his face; getting lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Choso knew he found the spot he’d been looking for when your back arched and you let out a sob of his name. “Is that it baby?. this spot right here?” He spoke in a teasing manner as he began to drive his fingers precisely into that spot that had your eyes rolling back. “m’gonna..” you whimpered as you trembled and began to fall apart. Choso urged you on with sweet praises of ‘that’s it baby’ ‘so pretty for me’ ‘keep making a mess for me’ as he dragged out your orgasm.

He drank up your creamy release as he pulled his fingers out, groaning into your cunt at the taste of you as your essence coated his palate. He only pulled away once you began to push at his head in sensitivity. His mouth detaching from your soaked cunt with a wet smack sound. “always so sensitive and responsive. I love that about you so much.” He cooed as he trailed kisses up your stomach, pulling off your shirt as he did.

He took a moment to just admire the sight of you completely bare underneath him. He took notice of every mole, stretch mark, faint scars, and embellishments on your skin. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen..” he breathed out in complete awe. You felt like your heart skipped a beat at hearing such a big compliment and you grew shy under his intense stares. “Oh hush…you’re just saying that because you’re horny..” you brushed him off.

He was quick to shake his head. “No. I really mean it. I’ve always thought so. I just never had the opportunity to tell you. You’re like my dream girl.” He expressed wholeheartedly as he looked into your eyes. You were at a loss for words, the gravity of his words hitting you and making you see Choso in a new light. Suddenly all his recent actions made sense, as you thought back on all the times in the past that he went out of his way for you.

All those times he also bought you a Valentine’s Day gift along with Jayla’s with the excuse that he ‘didn’t want you to feel left out’. The times that he buy you snacks and give you massages when you were on your period. The moments when he’d randomly text you and ask how your day was and if you had eaten. The rare times when you’d talk about something you wanted for the longest and think no one paid attention only for him to get it for you on your birthday. You were now wondering how you missed all the signs.

Without thinking anymore about it you grabbed Choso’s face and kissed him, pouring all the words you couldn’t say into the deep intimate kiss. He was grinning when the two of you broke the kiss. “So are you gonna fuck me or what? I know you didn’t come over here just to stare at me.” You joked and he laughed. “Yes ma’am.” He didn’t need to be told twice. He lived to appease you. He stripped himself down until he was bare and could feel your skin soft against his.

It was your turn to admire him and all his beauty. Your hands gently roamed his body as you analyzed all his tattoos and adornments on his skin. Choso loved all the attention you were giving him, not interrupting it at all so that he could savor it longer. He felt shivers coast his body the moment you wrapped your hand around his dick. “s’fat…” you muttered as you squeezed his dick, watching as precum dripped from the tip.

Your hand couldn’t fully fit around his cock due to how fat and heavy it was. He wasn’t the biggest but his girth made up for it. Choso grabbed your ankles and lifted your legs up, spreading you to his liking. He placed kisses on the soles of your feet, causing you to giggle since it tickled a bit. You lined his tip up with your pulsing hole and watched as he rocked his hips forward, slowly pushing into you and stretching you open.

You whimpered at the burning stretch, your hands moving to grip at Choso’s forearms — your nails digging into his skin. “You’re doing so good baby.” He praised you with a grunt as he fed your greedy cunt every inch of his dick. He rolled his hips into yours and did slow careful thrusts as he waited for you to adjust to his size. Your whimpers and whines gradually turning into moans and choked cries of pleasure. “m-more” you encouraged him with a moan.

He didn’t waste another second. He put your legs over his shoulders and pressed his weight onto the back of your thighs as he increased his pace. He was relentless as he pounded your weepy cunt into oblivion. “fuck..you feel so fucking good.” He moaned as his eyes fluttered shut — getting lost in the feel of your walls squeezing his dick. Your pussy creamed and gushed around his dick, emphasizing the lewd wet sound of skin slapping that enveloped your bedroom space.

“uhn ngh- keep fucking me, don’t stop” you moaned out as you became putty underneath Choso. Your mouth agape and your eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy as choso drove his cock into you at a fervent pace. The swollen head of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust and making writhe in pleasure. “Yeah?. You like having my dick stuffing this pretty pussy?”

“Tell me how good it feels” He urged in between pants and moans. He was fishing for praises from you and you were happy to give them. “feels ah- so good baby, love ngh- feeling you so deep choso..” you cried and choso whined pathetically at your words. They fueled him to burrow his cock into you deeper and harder. “love fucking you..you were made for me..” he breathed out as he began placing open mouthed kisses to your breasts.

He sucked and nipped at your taut nipples as he continued feeding your cunt punishing strokes that had tears brimming your eyes. Your hands tangled into his messy sweaty hair as he marked your chest and neck in red purplish bruises — the possessiveness in him wanting to leave a visible claim on your skin. “You’re so damn perfect ugh ngh- I wanna be yours.” He whined into your neck.

“tell me I’m yours” he was begging now, drooling onto your skin as his dick slammed into your cervix - the pressure against your cervix making you scream out and wail. “y-you’re mine cho! oh my god- this dick is all mine.” You cried. “s’all yours princess. Just for you.” He mewled. “I broke up with Jayla.” he suddenly said, but your brain was not coherent enough at the moment to process the information.

“wha-what?” You managed to stutter out as your foggy brain caught up with his words. “I ended things with Jayla so that I can take my chance at being with you.” He further explained but it all sounded like gibberish to you when his dick was obliterating your insides. “J-Just ah mmhfp- shhh” you put your hand over his mouth to get him to stop talking. “Tell me later.” you told him and he let out a breathy laugh at your response.

“Are you gonna cum baby?” He hummed as he adjusted your position — moving your legs to rest comfortably around his waist. “m-mhm!” you nodded and tightly wrapped your legs around him to keep him nestled deep inside you. “Yeah?. Gonna make an even bigger mess for me?. You’re always so pretty when you cum.” He muttered against your lips as he gave your swollen sappy clit some attention — rubbing tight circles onto it as he fucked you senseless.

You couldn’t even think properly anymore let alone speak to even respond to him. The only sounds that left you were pathetic babbles and cries as your orgasm built up. You were already so wet — slick dripping down your ass crack and creating a puddle on your sheets. Choso’s dick was covered in a blanket of your frothy cream and his pre cum mixed together. The slippery essence making the slide of his dick into you near effortless as he adapted rhythm of pulling out all the way to the tip and slamming back into you hard.

The force behind his thrusts caused you to let out choked squeaks; your body jerking further up the bed with every thrust. Choso wrapped his free hand around your throat to keep you in place. “shit..you’re taking it s-so uhn fuck- well..” he moaned as he felt his own climax approaching. His tongue licked up the drool and tears that coated your cheeks. He was so captured by you and his cravings for you, he wanted you imbedded in his skin and in his soul.

Your orgasm came without warning — your mouth parted in a silent moan and your back bowed off the bed as you came hard. You drenched Choso’s lower abdomen and your inner thighs in your climax; adding to the already filthy mess the two of you created. Choso continued fucking you through your orgasm as he sloppily chased his own — his thrusts turning uncoordinated and desperate.

The way your cunt was pulsating and clenching around his sensitive cock was his undoing. He was a whiny whimpering mess as he came deep inside you, filling you up with ropes of thick milky cum. The two of you were breathing heavily in sync as you both let a moment of calm settle over the two of you. Choso slowly pulled out and moved to get up to clean you up, but you stopped him — wanting him to stay laid next to you.

It was very peaceful having him cuddled up to you and keeping you warm. There was a long moment of comfortable silence until you spoke. “Did you really break up with Jayla..?” you asked him softly. Your mind was finally in the right state to have this conversation. He nodded, “Right after you left her house. I know this is all pretty fucked up but it’s always been you for me. I think I thought my infatuation with you would pass but it only grew stronger over time.” He told you honestly.

“I should’ve broken up with her long before things reached this point and I acknowledge that. I also understand if you don’t want to pursue anything further with me.” He continued and you listened to him with an open mind and an open heart. “But I promise I won’t take it for granted if you give me a chance.”

“Will you go on a date with me?”

[lovebugism]

hi!! could I possibly request something with Eddie or Steve with their chronically ill gf? I have POTS and although I don't full on faint, I get super fainty often and can lose my vision a little sometimes from that, and I think it would be cute to see how either boys would be with a partner like that (IF NOT THAT'S TOTALLY OKAY, THIS IS A VERY SELF INDULGENT REQUEST)

i tried to make this more general since i don't personally have pots, but it ended up being very self-indulgent bc i do get fainting spells quite often so enjoy hahah :D — the one where eddie munson is a very panicky caregiver (established relationship, hurt/comfort | 1.2k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

The hottest day of the season weighs heavily upon you. The golden hour sunlight and sticky summer air seep into your bones, sucking all the energy from your already tired body. You feel a bit like a vampire now — a withering thing wasting away in the center of Eddie Munson’s bed, with nothing but a clicking fan beside you blowing hot air around the room.

Eddie seems largely unfazed by the summer weather despite his metalhead qualities, which should otherwise clash with the heat. 

He’s shed his leather jacket for the first time all year. The thrifted t-shirt he wears below it leaves his pale, tattoed arms on display. You can see the tendons in them pulsing every time he strums lazily at his acoustic guitar. His wild curls, more untamed than usual in such humidity, are pulled out of his face with one of your hair ties. A few stubborn strands stick to his face still — now a darker shade of brown, going damp from the sweat beading on his jaw and forehead.

You watch him tilt his head back to shake his bangs from his eyes, then smile to yourself when the attempt proves fruitless. His hair’s grown much too long now — enough to be perpetually frustrating. Not that Eddie cares to acknowledge it, anyway.

“I think it’s time for a haircut, Eds,” you try to tease, though the words come out strangely heavy on your tongue. They sound lightyears away as they spill from your mouth, and the thought alone makes you dizzy. Dizzier.

Eddie’s face, glimmering and softly flushed, screws in a boyish pout. “Don’t say that. You know I hate that word.”

“Look at your bangs, Eds! They’re way too long—”

The mattress squeaks softly under your weight when you go to reach for him. You’re barely able to sit upright without your head spinning. It’s like you blink once, and suddenly you’re underwater — vision blurry, ears ringing, the world swimming with various indistinct shapes. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and sit back again.

It takes Eddie a moment too long to notice.

“No, they’re not— See?” He pauses his strumming to muss at his curls. His ringed fingers tousle his already frizzy bangs to get them out of his eyes. He smiles all cheeky at you then, as he glances at you over his shoulder. His smile ebbs at the twisted look on your face. “Hey… You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer immediately, though the pinched look to your features never wavers. 

“Okay. Yeah,” Eddie nods. “But… Are you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut until it hurts — until blue and white stars start to twinkle in the nothingness. But even in the quote-unquote nothingness, you can still feel the world spinning around you. It’s like you’re on a sailboat in the middle of the ocean, swaying in time with the rocky tides even though you’re sitting still. The notion makes your swimmy head spin. 

“Yeah,” you repeat, pitched higher this time as you dig your palms into your eye sockets. A feeble attempt to ease the dizziness. “I just— I just got a little dizzy all of a sudden. But I’m fine.”

Eddie starts reeling immediately. “Shit. Are you… Are you gonna pass out?” he stammers and rises suddenly from the bed. He leaves his guitar at his feet as he rushes to you. The mattress bounces under you and makes you feel sicker. His panicking makes you feel sicker, too.

“I don’t think so,” you answer, voice quiet and faraway.

“You don’t think so?” Eddie echoes as he looms at your side. 

You can’t see him, but you know he’s there. You can feel his shadow and the heat radiating from his lanky form. His ringed hands sit awkwardly out in front of him, aching to comfort you but frightened of making it worse. 

“Do you— Do you want me to do something? Do you need me to get you anything? Like… Like a glass of water or—”

“Eds. I’m fine,” you interject a bit too firmly for your poorly state. “It’ll pass, just… Just sit down.”

“I can’t,” he squirms. “You’re makin’ me nervous, babe.”

“Standing on top of me isn’t helping, Eds.”

The boy sits gingerly at your side, then. He doesn’t move a muscle as he waits for you to tell him what to do. Obedient but hardly patient. He tries not to fidget too much, lest he add to your unease, but he buzzes with worry in the meantime. He watches with his heart in his throat as you finally take your hands from your face.

His wide, chocolate eyes dart over your pallid features. “You okay?” he whispers.

“Mhm,” you hum in the affirmative, though you haven’t yet tried to open your eyes. 

The mattress feels less like a wobbling water bed now, but you’re still scared of what the world will look like — if everything will be slightly askew or flipped upside down entirely.

“Can you try to look at me?” the boy presses gently.

You peek one eye open and turn your chin to look at him. The subtle movement ends up being an obvious mistake. “Fuck,” you curse in a quiet murmur, shutting your eyes when the world goes staticky again.

“Don’t move so fast, babe. You’ll pass out,” Eddie chuckles despite the panicked ache in his chest. 

He moves slowly so as not to jostle you too much — lifting his arm to rest over your shoulder and pulling you very carefully to his chest. His free hand covers your eyes and rests over your temple. He squishes his cheek against your hair.

The humidity doesn’t often allow for such contact, but the heat isn’t nearly as strong as Eddie Munson’s love for you. He holds you close in spite of the slightly agonizing way your skin sticks together, fully content to melt with you completely.

“‘M not gonna pass out,” you murmur, words sitting heavy in your mouth.

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs. “‘Cause slurring your words like you’re drunk all of a sudden is real convincing, sweetheart.”

“M fine,” you insist anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Well, the world’s not spinning anymore, at least.”

“Good,” Eddie hums, smacking a chaste kiss to your head. “Lay down for me, alright? I wanna get you some water. And maybe something salty. That shit’s supposed to help, isn’t it?”

You whine in protest when he starts to move. Less because of how faint you are, and more because of how little you want him to leave. 

“No. Later. Don’t move,” you grouse.

“I gotta make sure you’re alright, babe,” the boy laughs through the warmth blooming in his chest, a sparkling sort of pride perhaps, as you curl further into his side.

“I’m fine right now,” you mumble tiredly. “But if you stop holdin’ me like this, I won’t be.”

“Ah, right…” Eddie sighs in defeat. “Guess I’m stuck here then, huh?”

You nod slowly, cheek rubbing along the cotton fabric of his shirt. “Mhm.”

He smiles softly to himself, wider than he usually allows, ‘cause there’s nothing metal about being a lovesick puppy. But, in truth, he’s happy to be stuck here with you — even with your swimmy head and humid air and clicking desk fan that’s hardly working now. The circumstances a mildly inconvenient, sure, but he’d take a billion inconvenient circumstances if it meant getting to be with you.

Lovesick puppy, indeed.

[rottenaero]

Ao3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 3 of the roommate idea

Steve declines the hellfire invitation from Dustin, making up a pretend date, because otherwise he was not getting out of that one. He checked the time on the wall.

2:27

Yeah, alright.

He waited a few hours before getting ready and heading to the school.

The game starts in thirty minutes so they should be-

Steve grinned as he watched the back of Dustin move into the drama room.

Perfect.

He waited a minute, listening into their conversation before deciding that he didn't need to wait for them to stop because if they stopped that meant they were starting.

He slammed open the clubs door, making a couple people in the room jump.

“Steve! What are you doing here?" Eddie asked from his place on the throne. "DnDs over, pack up your shit.” He stated, leaving no room for argument.

Well, apparently a little room.

“What!! Why?! Last campaign of the semester, Mike leaves for Cali tomorrow!"

Steve furrowed his brows, and put his hands on his hips, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff weren't arguing, they knew he was serious, good.

“It can wait till he gets back, why would you even plan this a day before he leaves?”

“Why do we need to pack our shit?!”

Steve pinched his nose, "We're going to Luca’s basketball game.”

“What?!?”

“That traitor-"

“Stevie, darling, you can't be-”

“Why?!”

“You two know each other-”

Steve grimaced, a migraine starting at the fore-front of his mind.

“Please shut up, Christ.”

Eddie winced and immediately shushed everyone.

“We're going to this game, because even if Lucas doesn't get to play, we still gotta support him. Dustin, Mike, you guys have only gone to one of his games, his first one.”

He turned the other group, "Grant, Gareth, Jeff, fuck Eddie. None of you have gone to a game, I know it's not your usual shit but you gotta come. Hell, Erica, you're his sister, I mean, you’ve done an amazing job at showing up at the rest, so I can’t really complain about you.”

Dustin winced, “ Sorry Steve, but why does this matter so much to you? It's not the end of the world.”

Steve rubbed his arm, “ He needs someone to be there for him, even if he doesn't win. You can just do the damn campaign at Eddie's when Mike comes back.”

Mike, in question, scoffs, “And since when do you make the rules.”

Steve ignores him, reaching forward and grabbing Eddie's arm, and Erica’s shoulder. "Suit yourselves, but kinda hard to play DnD without the Dungeon Master, and Eddie and Erica don't have a choice.”

They make their way to the gym, a reluctant group of Hellfire in tow, and sit across the top of the bleachers. Steve waves at Robin from where he sits and then turns to Hellfire. “ Thank you guys for being reasonable."

Gareth scrunches his nose, “You cannot just keep stealing Eddie randomly.” Steve purses his lips, and leans into the man in question.

"Not stealing if he's okay with it, right Eds?” Eddie looked between the two, “ I'm sensing I should say yes?"

Steve grinned and patted his cheek. “Good boy."

Dustin turned to them, "Was Eddie the date you were talking about earlier? You tell seem awfully friendly."

Eddie flushed, and let's out an awkward laugh. " Steve wishes he could date me."

[madelynraemunson]

Married au with Rockstar!Eddie where he's just a man STARVED when he goes home from tour. LIKEEEE, he's just a needy husband in need of reader's loving and he's been lacking just that for months now ☹️☹️☹️ (please the Eddie brainrot is consuming my every being.)

☆ The Crawl ☆

rockstar!eddie munson x housewife!afab!reader

CW: 18+ obvs, needy, pathetic sub eddie, dom-ish afab reader, dick riding, cum eating, dirty talkin’ nasty goodness, eddie literally crawling towards us 🫠🫠, facial, implied unprotected p in v sex, dribbler!eddie

author's note: this is my first time writing sub!dribbler!eddie hehehe eds is usually a dom!shooter in my universe. i hope you all enjoy!!! 💌

WC: 686 words

“Need you to have your way with me, sweetheart…need you to use me…Can’t take it anymore. Please."

You meet your husband's desperate gaze as he brushes his stiff cock against your thighs, prodding you for the sensual loving you had promised him when he was to come back from tour.

Craving every inch of your touch, the man is at your mercy. And that damn polaroid picture you sent him a few days ago? The damn polaroid of that pretty pussy of yours, your glistening folds spread apart by your perfectly manicured fingers, the white border holding space for the title, “all for you” signed by your rouge red lipstick? Eddie damn near kicked the tour bus driver out his seat to turn the vehicle back around himself.

But, of course, the show had to go on. And as stoked as Eddie was for Corroded Coffin's Rise of Kas Tour, nothing compares to being with you, wrapped up in your intimacy in the comfort of the home you two share.

And now 385 days later, you two are here.

“Need you to ride me dry…” he pleads. “Need both lips on my cock baby, he’s missed you so much…”

“Nuh uh,” you smirk, enjoying yourself just a little. “Not gonna do away with the flatteries just yet.”

“Fucking please, princess,” Eddie begs. “Been blue-balled all tour, you can’t do this to me.”

“Oh but I can.”

Hellbent and greedy, your smitten, pussy starved husband treads hopelessly towards you on all fours as you guide him to the bedroom.

Too many press photos and interviews. Too many groupies lining up outside the tour bus to claim their spots with Gareth, Grant, and Jeff. And far too many titties to sign, but Eddie knows he shouldn’t refuse, cuz since he built his brand off being a sex-crazed rockstar, rejecting the ladies would mark the end of his — very successful — career.

Too much of tour life on repeat. And never enough of you. And when he finally gets you, the whining only seems to intensify.

Your twinkling, cum-coated tits bounce in Eddie's face as you frantically taunt your clit with his wide, veiny cock. The sight of you tossing your head back, a mewling mess as he splits you open is enough to tug orgasms out of Eddie’s blissfully aching body. And as you clench around him, screams getting louder by the pump, his spewing tip begins to twitch with every jab into your guts.

“Oh baby…shit, mmfuck, ‘m so fucking sensitive baby, you have no idea.”

Your excitement pools at the base of his naval. Knowing he's not going to last all that long, Eddie whimpers at the sight, his photographic conscious saving the episodic eye-sore for a midday work flashback.

“I love you so much,” he moans. Your orgasm begins to splash around him with every bounce. "Missed your beautiful face. Missed your tight fucking pussy."

“I love you, sweet boy,” you hum. “Your dick makes me feel so good, Eddie, fuck. You’re not going anywhere.”

Eddie releases one strained groan before he loses control. Now completely shifting the roles, Eddie pins you into place as he probes for his finish, thrusting into you as the sweat rushes down his body, his full sack beating at your skin as you ride out your last together.

“Fuck baby, yes baby, yes baby,” he pants. “Gonna be the death of me baby, oh fuck…”

And before he completely empties himself in you, Eddie retreats and finishes on your face. He beams down at you in awe as he glazes the hollows of your cheeks, glosses your lips, and caters to the tip of your cum-quenched tongue. Eddie then swoops down to collect his own eager laps, before thanking you with a kiss.

And, to your surprise, when all is said and done, and you’re all wiped down with a nice warm washcloth from the dryer, your husband books it to his office as if there were something else waiting for him behind that door.

“Eds,” you wonder. “What are you doing?”

“I need to write a song.”

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Summary: A baby shower has you reuniting with Eddie (and Harris). Unbeknownst to Eddie, it's right when he'll need you most--but is he ready to forgive?

Warnings: mention of pregnancy, small allusion to sex, mentions of Grandma Sweetheart's death, mentions of learning disability

WC: 7.4k

Chapter 11/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Mid-January in Hawkins is cold, with temperatures in the mid-30s, but a bundled-up Harris Munson is unfazed. Eddie happily watches as his son practically flies across the empty playground and heads straight for the swingset. In the warmer weather, it’s a coveted spot amongst the kids and usually ends in a battle, but the chill in the air means that Harris doesn’t have to fight for a turn. 

“Daddy! Uncle Jeff!” he calls out, voice muffled by the blue scarf securely wrapped around the lower half of his face, “come push me!”

Jeff laughs with a shake of his head as he and Eddie trudge across the frost-covered grass. “You heard the man.”

“Ready to have a little gremlin of your own?” Eddie teases, hoisting Harris onto the swing, making sure his bottom is squared on the rubber surface. He catches a glimpse of the baby swing to his right, and his heart pangs at the memory of Harris being tiny enough to fit in there. “Lemme tell ya, it goes by quick. The days are long but the years are short.”

Jeff just gives a little nod, and Eddie can tell that he doesn’t quite believe him. “I’m serious, man. And all that stuff they say about not knowing what love is until you have kids? Man, I thought that was the biggest crock of shit. Like, of course I know what love is! I love my music, my uncle, even you guys,” he adds with a gleam in his eyes, referring to his former bandmates. “And then Harris was born, and I was like, ‘holy shit, this is what it means to love someone.’” He positions himself behind the swing, giving Harris another big push before stepping aside to let Jeff have a turn. 

Jeff looks at him incredulously. Eddie Munson is no stranger to a good rant, but never one this vulnerable. He’s speechless for a moment before clearing his throat. “Th-Thanks, Ed,” he manages, offering the white paper bag he’d picked up on the way to the playground. “Y’still like peanut butter creme donuts, right?”

“Hell yes!” Eddie cheers, pumping his fist in excitement. He reaches into the bag and pulls out the chocolate frosted confection, taking a huge bite triumphantly. “‘M tellin’ ya: Em and Abi’s Gourmet Donuts is the best thing about this town,” he exclaims with a mouthful of peanutty filling. 

“Really?” Jeff chuckles, taking a honeycomb donut from the bag. “Better than a certain preschool teacher you may or may not be infatuated with?”

A blush creeps into Eddie’s cheeks, and he hopes he can pass it off as a reaction to the winter winds. “Not in front of…” he trails off, jerking his head in the direction of his son. 

“Got it, got it,” Jeff smoothly agrees, but he still presses the topic in a roundabout way. “But, uh, any luck with that?”

“Nope,” Eddie cuts him off. “I’ve just been giving her space like you said, but she hasn’t reached out or asked about tutoring again.” He shrugs as though it doesn’t bother him, but both he and Jeff know that that can’t be further from the truth. 

Jeff gives Harris a big push, smiling when he hears the boy’s giggle. “You haven’t called or anything?” he asks. 

“Once, after I saw her during drop-off.” Eddie admits, twisting the ring on his pinky finger. “Left a message but she never called back.”

He plays it back in his head, a constant loop that he’d practically memorized before relaying it to your answering machine. As much as he wanted to resolve everything sooner rather than later, he was embarrassingly relieved when he’d heard your outgoing message. Still, the sweetness of your recorded voice was honeyed tea on a dreary day, and he didn’t anticipate his breath to hitch when it played. 

“H-Hey, Sweetheart. Shit, can I call you that? Um, anyway, give me a call when you can. I think we should talk.”

The two men take turns pushing Harris and chasing him around the playground. At one point, Harris makes his way to the pole, painted school bus yellow. He reaches out with two chubby hands, but his feet stay grounded on the platform. “‘M scared,” he whimpers, still clinging to the pole. 

“You got this, Mini Munson!” Jeff cheers, frowning when Harris remains in place. “Tell ya what: if you slide down the pole, I’ll make your dad do it, too.” He grins mischievously, and Eddie would discreetly flip him the bird if he didn’t have a better alternative. 

“Yeah, bud, and then Uncle Jeff will go after me.” He mouths a silent ha at his friend, but neither seem to mind. 

And after a few seconds of deliberation, Harris flings his body forward and slowly makes his way down, hands squeaking along the metal.

“I did it!” he announces triumphantly, turning to Eddie. “Your turn, Daddy!”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, but a smile dances on his lips. He darts up the jungle gym steps and hangs onto the pole. He could simply put his feet down and touch the ground, but where’s the fun in that? Instead, he lets out a high-pitched, “wheeeee!” as Harris cackles loudly. 

He claps Jeff on the back once his shoes touch the rubber turf. “You’re up, big boy.”

Jeff follows suit, mimicking Eddie and making Harris laugh even harder. 

“Uncle Jeff, you’re so silly!” he exclaims, using hands and feet to clamber back up to the top and slide down the pole; this time, there’s no hesitation. 

Harris repeats the routine again and again until Eddie catches a glimpse of the digital watch around his wrist. “We gotta leave in five minutes, Har Bear,” he reports matter-of-factly, hoping his lack of emotion will ward off any impending tantrums. 

Harris’s lower lip juts out as his pupils dart back and forth between Eddie and Jeff. “Aw, why?”

Eddie crouches down to match his son’s height, pressing palms to his knees for stability. “We’re gonna help Uncle Jeff pack up the presents from the baby shower, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He pauses, pursing his lips in concentration. “How did the baby get in Auntie Viv’s tummy?”

Jeff’s eyes widen at the question, and he glances at Eddie, silently willing him to say something. Eddie clears his throat, wracking his brain for a response that will placate his son’s curiosity without giving away too much information. “Um, well,” he begins, biting the inside of his cheek to buy himself more time before settling on: “when a man and a woman love each other, that love can make a baby.”

Fortunately, Harris seems satisfied with that answer, and Jeff hands him a chocolate donut to distract him from asking anything else. The boy plunks down in the grass a few paces ahead of them and takes a big bite.

“How is it?” Jeff calls to him, chuckling when Harris responds with a chocolate crumb-covered thumbs up and turns his attention back to the dessert. “Nice save,” he says to Eddie, clapping a hand on his shoulder and giving him a little shake. “But what are you gonna say when he asks about his mom?”

“Jesus H; he’s gonna have to give me a few years to come up with an answer for that one.”

Despite every cell in your body urging you to stay away, you’re back in Hawkins. More specifically, you’re in Viv and Jess’s parents’ house, cleaning up after an overall successful baby shower. You’re spooning the leftover food into Tupperware while Jess washes dishes and her girlfriend, Robin, dries and puts them in their respective cabinets.

You’d returned to Grandma’s apartment last night after Jess begged you to come to the shower, lamenting that the party was going to be all of her sister’s lame friends and she needed someone actually fun to hang out with her and Robin. Her insistence, coupled with your desire to finish out the remainder of the school year, is why you’d tossed your suitcases into your sedan and made the trek. Yup, those were the only reasons; certainly nothing to do with–

“Have you talked to Eddie since you got back?”

His name alone brings a surge of emotions, none of which you have the energy to identify. “No,” you mumble, a heat blooming in your cheeks, “he left a message a week ago saying ‘we should talk,’ but I didn’t return it.”

Jess snaps off the faucet, hands still dripping with soapy water as she places them on her hips with an exasperated sigh. “What? Why not?”

“Because.” You try to leave it at that, but her defiant glare obligates you to elaborate. “Because I’m embarrassed!” you admit to Jess and Robin–and to yourself. “The guy practically chased me down the night we met, and now that he got to know me, he doesn’t want to sleep with me? Is my personality that much of a turn-off?” You snap the lid on a plastic container, desperate to end the conversation with your rhetorical question, but your friend keeps going.

“Look, I don’t know him that well–only what I’ve heard from you and Jeff–but he seems to really care about you. Jeff says he hasn’t seen Eddie down this bad, like, ever.” She lowers her voice. “Apparently, some old hookup was coming onto him, and he turned her down because he's, quote, involved with someone.” She raises her eyebrows inquisitively, though you both know that the someone in question is you.

“Wait, hold on–Eddie Munson?” Robin breaks in, nearly dropping the serving spoon in her hand when she makes the connection. “Metalhead, senior year three-peat, alleged Satan-worshiper Eddie Munson?”

“Well, the jury’s out on whether I worship Satan or I actually am Satan, but, yep, that’s me.” The familiar voice from the kitchen doorway startles the three of you; this time, Robin does let the oversized utensil fall to the floor with a clang. 

Nerves send your heartbeat into a frenzy, and you have to rest your open palm on the countertop to steady yourself. Eddie stands before you, tip of his nose tinged red from the cold, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Wh-What are you doing here?” You whisper the words, but you might as well be shouting with the level of anxiety steadily rising in your chest.

Eddie rocks back and forth from the soles of his feet to his toes. “Jeff asked us to help him load the gifts into the car.”

“Us?”

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris flings himself into your embrace, and as soon as you stoop down to reciprocate his hug, he’s wrapping his arms and legs around your torso. “I miss you! When are we gonna do the alphabet and eat pizza again?”

Eddie looks over at Jeff; you hadn’t even noticed the other man behind him until Eddie’s gaze drifted over. You watch as the two men exchange a knowing glance, and Jeff quickly speaks up. “Hey, Har,” he motions the boy over to him, “why don’t you use your super strong arms to bring stuff out to the car? I bet you have bigger muscles than me.”

Harris begrudgingly lets go of you, sliding to the floor and dragging his feet to Jeff. He heaves a dramatic sigh and grumbles, “fiiiiiine,” and you and Eddie have to hold back your laughter at his theatrics.

“He is definitely my kid,” Eddie says once Harris has left the room and is out of earshot. He walks closer to you as you turn back to packing up the food. “You, um, never called me back,” he murmurs, placing one hand on either side of you, his chest almost touching your back. Robin and Jess creep out of the kitchen as quietly as possible, leaving you and Eddie alone.

You clear your throat and swallow your fear. “I didn’t have anything to say.” That’s a lie; there was so much you wanted to confide in him, but the thought of him rejecting you again, or getting another glimpse of the hurt you caused reflected in his deep brown eyes, kept you from returning his call.

“Well, I did.” His tone is calm but firm. “I just need to know one thing, and then I swear I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.” He pauses, gathering up his own courage before speaking again. “That day…why did you ask me to sleep with you?” 

“I told you,” you say, desperately trying to keep your voice from wobbling, “because I needed to feel something.”

Eddie shakes his head, stepping back and crossing his leather jacket-clad arms over his chest. “No, but why did you ask me? Why didn’t you go to the Hideout and pick up some random dude?” His volume starts to rise, and he clenches his fist and drags it back down as if reminding himself to be quieter. “Was it, like, a convenience thing, or did you really think I’d be okay having sex with you while you were so upset?”

Your heart pangs at his question. It had never even occurred to you that he’d perceive it that way. Were you being selfish? Taking what you felt you needed? Admittedly, yes. But were you asking Eddie specifically because he happened to be there? Absolutely not. “No, Eddie,” you say, forcing yourself to face him, “it’s because…because I knew you’d take care of me. If I wanted to stop or slow down, I knew you’d listen. I trust you.” Speaking the truth aloud is like letting the air out of an overfilled balloon on the cusp of popping. Both you and Eddie visibly relax, easing a tension you hadn’t realized he was also holding. 

The room is quiet for a moment. Eddie’s knee softly bumps against your thigh as he wills himself to close the gap he’d created. “You said something in your message about it never being meaningless. Not even the night we…we met.”

The reminder of your confession floods you with humiliation. You—unsuccessfully—threw yourself at him for sex and then left a message saying that you’ve been clinging to the hope of a relationship since your alcohol-laden first hook-up. How humiliating. 

“I’m sorry if that was weird, but I told Jess that I’ve never been good at one-night stands. I always get too attached.” And it doesn’t help when I have to see the guy and his adorable son twice a day, you think wryly, but you store that anecdote inside. 

Eddie shakes his head, lacing his ringed fingers with your bare ones. The pad of his thumb brushes against the knuckle of yours, both comforting you and zapping electricity through your body. “No, ‘s not weird,” he reassures you, giving your hands a squeeze. “I felt the same way, even if I didn’t realize it. I think that’s why I asked you to stay, why I held you…I’ve never done that before.” He’s sheepish but not ashamed; if he’s being honest, he’s pretty damn proud of himself for admitting it aloud. 

You tilt your chin up knowingly. “Yeah, I heard you shut down a sure thing because of your involvement with someone.”

Your emphasis of that one word has Eddie dropping his head, letting go of one of your hands and covering his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Damn, word spreads around here like it’s the five o’clock news. But, uh, yeah, I did. Turn her down.” His tongue darts out to coat his dry lips. “Not that it’s any of my business, but did you, um, see anyone over the holidays?” 

“Nope.” You shake your head, bracing yourself for what you’re about to tell him. Even though he’s the one holding you, allowing your bodies to intertwine, it’s nerve-wracking to be so vulnerable. You forge ahead, allowing the words to tumble out of your mouth. “I…I only want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s breath gets caught in his throat. Want want want. Present tense, not past. “Want, like, present tense? Like you still feel that way?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t reek of desperation for a millisecond before realizing that he doesn’t care, as long as you still want him.

“Is that okay?” Your voice is small, an almost comic contrast from the bravado you used during your last in-person encounter. 

“It’s more than okay, Sweetheart.” Eddie’s whisper matches yours. His thumb ghosts over the plush of your lips as his hand slips to your cheek, bringing his remaining four fingers behind your ears and to the nape of your neck. He leans in, drawing you closer with his tantalizing smoky scent and raw desire. One step in, noses nudging together–

“Daddy, look at me!”

Eddie whips his head around at the sound of Harris’s voice, nearly crashing against yours, and you stumble backwards into the counter, wincing as you make contact with the linoleum. You bite back the string of swear words on your tongue, both at the pain and the missed kiss.

Jeff is panting as he chases after him, bending forward at the waist and resting his palms on his thighs. “I tried to keep him entertained, but I was not prepared for this level of energy,” he huffs, chest rising and falling with each heaving breath. His eyes dart between you and Eddie, easily picking up on the guilty looks on your faces. He mouths “sorry” and shrugs, but the moment is already over.

Harris, oblivious to the burgeoning tension in the room, tugs on his dad’s sleeve in a demand for attention. “Daddy, wanna see me lift stuff?” He jumps up and down as he asks, making his words vibrate. “Uncle Jeff says I’m the strongest kid in the world!” He opens his arms the entire length of his wingspan to emphasize his point.

“Uh, y-yeah; sure, bud.” Eddie stammers. He looks over at you and you follow his lead, watching as Harris lifts a box of diapers with a dramatic grunt. When Eddie is sure that his son has fully turned around, he grabs your hand once more and gives it a little squeeze. “We’ll pick up where we left off later,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, and it sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Ms. Sweetheart, you watch, too!” Harris insists; so you do, trailing after him all the way to Jeff’s car. Unable to see over the box, he walks it right into the back bumper, and Eddie has to step in and help him.

Once the diapers have been tetris'd into the trunk, Jeff closes the door and slaps it for good measure. “Well, I think that’s everything. Thanks again, Munson…Mini Munson.” He ruffles Harris’s mop of curls with a grin.

Eddie holds out his hand, pulling Jeff in for a hug when he takes it. “Congratulations again, man. I’m really happy for you guys.” And he genuinely is. He can’t wait to see one of his oldest and closest friends experience fatherhood.

He turns to you as Jeff heads back into the house to help Viv to the car. “Did you have anything to eat?” he asks. “I mean, we can go to Benny’s if you want. I was gonna take Harris.” The kid hasn’t had anything since breakfast except the donut, and he’s bound to get cranky sooner rather than later. 

You shake your head. “No, I wasn’t really hungry. But I’m down to split a stack of pancakes with you, if you want?”

“Like you used to do with Grandma?” He remembers you mentioning the tradition during her eulogy. The corners of his lips turn up slightly, though his smile quickly falters when he notices the misty film glazing your eyes. “Sorry, I—”

“I’m good,” you reassure him, dabbing at your lash line with the heel of your hand. “Someone really special once told me that it’s okay to be sad, so I’m kind of giving that a shot.”

This time, Eddie’s grin remains. “Is that a ‘yes’ to the pancakes?”

“Yeah. It’s a yes.” You giggle when Eddie makes a fist and pumps it in celebration. “We usually got blueberry, but I’m down for chocolate chip,” you say, remembering his food preference from your first date.

“Nah, I can get behind blueberry,” he says. What he doesn’t say is that he would eat anchovy pancakes if it meant making you happy. 

“But I want chicken fingers!” Harris scrunches up his nose, and both you and Eddie know that a hungry four-year-old is not to be challenged. 

Eddie scoops Harris up into his arms, smacking a wet kiss to his chubby cheek. One day, his son will wipe them off, but Eddie’s glad that today is not that day. “Then the boy shall have the finest chicken fingers in all of Hawkins!” He declares in a deep voice before winking at you. “More pancakes for me and the pretty lady.”

Harris’s eyes widen. “So you do think she’s pretty–”

“Okay, let’s get this show on the road!” Eddie cuts him off. You duck your head as though that will ward off further questioning from Harris, but not before catching a glimpse of Eddie mouthing, “like a princess.”

You can smell the aroma of the deep fryer as soon as you pull into Benny’s parking lot. Since you drove yourself to the shower, you and Eddie take separate cars and meet there. The small diner isn’t overly crowded, and the three of you squeeze into a booth in the back corner. Eddie sits on one side and you on the other; you assume Harris will slide in next to his dad, but he chooses you instead. 

Your waiter introduces himself as Ryan and places three sets of silverware on the table. He starts to hand you the menus, but Eddie politely shakes his head and tells him, “‘S all good, man. We know what we want.” He orders a plate of chicken fingers and fries for Harris and a short stack of blueberry pancakes for you and him. “Y’want anything to drink?” he asks you, and you contemplate for a moment before ordering a hot coffee, and Eddie gets the same.

“I want a coffee, too,” Harris pipes up, flashing his million-watt grin at Ryan, who holds back a laugh and promises that the food will be right out.

 “So, Harris,” you start, taking a small sip from the glass of ice water in front of you, “how was your Christmas? Get anything good?”

“Mhm!” he chirps, swiveling his body to face yours. “I got a bunch of new Hot Wheels and some cool markers for drawing. They smell like fruits!”

“Very different from when I used to sniff markers back in my day,” Eddie jokes, and you kick his foot lightly in an attempt to silently tell him to behave. His eyes twinkle mischievously when you playfully roll yours.

“That sounds awesome!” you exclaim, bringing your attention back to Harris and adding, “I bet Mr. Will would want to see your new markers if you want to swing by my classroom on Monday.”

Harris’s face lights up, and he claps his hands together in jubilance. “Maybe I can draw something for him!”

“He’d love that,” you tell him, and the little boy squeezes his hands into tiny fists and lets out an excited squeal.

Ryan returns a few moments later balancing a plate of chicken fingers in one hand and the pancakes in the other. Your stomach rumbles; you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you were presented with food. Eddie peels back the film of one of the small plastic syrup containers, positioning it over the pancakes and cocking his eyebrow to get your approval. You nod, and he tilts and swirls it as you watch it drip down the sugary stack. 

“How was your visit with your family?” He doesn’t refer to it as your visit home, because he hopes that you consider Hawkins your home now. He unfurls his napkin and pulls out the fork and knife, cutting into the stack, and you mirror his actions.

Harris stretches his arm out across you, and you realize he’s reaching for the glass ketchup bottle, so you twist off the cap and plop some onto his plate. He dips a fry into it happily. “About as good as it could be,” you answer Eddie. “Everyone kind of tried to act normal, but it was like they were trying too hard, y’know?”

“Was Grandma there?” Harris asks through a mouthful of fried potato.

You bite your lip, not quite sure what he knows and what Eddie wants him to know. Death is a tricky subject to broach with young kids, and you don’t want to say anything that will confuse or scare him. Luckily, Eddie jumps in and comes to your rescue. “Har Bear, remember I told you that Grandma went to Heaven?” He gently reminds his son. “That’s why you made that nice card for Ms. Sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah.” Harris’s expression morphs from inquisitive to concern, even as he chows down on a chicken finger. “Are you still sad?”

“Sometimes,” you admit, more to yourself than to him, “but it gets a little better every day. And being around my favorite guys helps put me in a good mood.”

Eddie presses a syrupy hand to his chest in mock astonishment. “Who, us?” He smiles and spears another cut of pancake with his fork. “How did you know flattery works with me?”

Before you can formulate a response–something teasing but not overly flirtatious–Harris poses a new question: “Ms. Sweetheart, do you have any babies?”

“Harris!” His son’s name comes out sharper than he intends, but Eddie’s too flustered to think twice. He looks at you apologetically, practically crimson from his cheeks to his ears. “Sorry, he hasn’t stopped talking about babies since I told him about the baby shower.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, giving his hand a small squeeze to show that you truly don’t mind Harris’s curiosity. You look at the boy and tell him, “I don’t have any babies, but I consider all of my students to be my babies.”

“Me, too?”

You chuckle and take a sip of coffee. “Of course, you, too!”

There’s a brief silence as you all eat–Eddie steals a fry from Harris’s plate and shoves it in his mouth before he can get caught. While hilarious, his timing couldn’t be worse, because he has no way of stopping Harris’s next statement:

“You and my daddy could have a baby. Because you’re a woman and he’s a man.” It’s matter-of-fact, said while dunking his food in the ketchup pile, as though this is something everyone drops into normal conversation. “That’s how you get a baby in your tummy like Aunt Viv.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle your laughter, not wanting to reinforce his inadvertently entertaining assertion.

Eddie is far less amused than you are, nearly choking on his swiped French fry. “Chrissakes…” he hisses, ducking and bringing his fist to his forehead, “Harris, eat your chicken fingers, quietly.” He breathes out with a puff of his cheeks as Harris obliges, completely oblivious to the meaning behind his suggestion. 

A beat of awkward silence ensues as you eat a hunk of pancake, warm blueberry juice seeping into your tongue. Grandma used to joke around and say that the blueberries made it a healthy food. “Practically a fruit salad,” she’d tease with a glint of happiness dancing in her eyes. 

Eddie, meanwhile, is desperate for a subject change. His palms are slick from what he’s like to think is merely embarrassment, but it’s multifaceted. The idea of the three of you sitting in Benny’s just as you are now, only you’re eating for two, has his stomach in knots. And if he even dares to dream about what getting you pregnant entails? He’s a goner.  

“Harris has a birthday coming up,” he blurts out a bit too loudly, unable to control his volume. “He’s turning the big, uh, five.” 

You can feel Harris eagerly kicking his legs next to you, so you match his enthusiasm. “Wow, Har! That’s a whole hand!” You hold up five fingers and Harris does the same, bringing his palm to yours.

“Are you gonna come to my birthday party?” He peers up at you with hopeful eyes, and you’re left scrambling for a response that doesn’t give away that you haven’t exactly been invited.

“Oh, I, um…”

“She’s going to check her calendar and see,” Eddie offers, and you exhale at his quick save. Turns his attention to you. “His birthday is February 6, but that’s a Thursday, so we’re gonna do his party that Saturday at the bowling alley. Just me, Wayne, and a couple of the kids from school. And you, if you can make it.” Shit, is he rambling? Was that too much information? You spend every day with kids; would you really want to spend a Saturday afternoon at a birthday party surrounded by them?

He���s not overanalyzing for long before you speak. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Do grown-ups get to bowl, too?” You perch your chin on your hand, blinking to emphasize your curiosity. Bowling has never been your forte, but you imagine you’ll fare quite well compared to a group of five-year-olds. 

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Eddie laughs kindly, letting his arm cross the table so that the back of his fingers can graze your forearm, “that’s a given.”

The three of you head out to your cars—not before you and Eddie argue over who’s going to pay the bill, with you eventually winning the battle. He takes Harris’s right hand as you step off of the sidewalk and into the parking lot, and Harris instinctively slips his left into yours. He walks between you and his dad naturally, as though it’s always been this way. Like you all were a little family that made regular outings for pancakes and chicken fingers.

“Har, go get in your car seat, and I’ll be there in a sec to buckle you in,” Eddie says gently, opening the door for him. 

Harris climbs in clumsily, calling back, “Bye, Ms. Sweetheart!” His farewell ends with a yawn, suggesting that there will be a nap in the near future. 

Eddie closes the door, shoving his hands in his pockets bashfully. It’s one of his nervous quirks, you’ve noticed, and you’re immediately inclined to reassure him about whatever’s on his mind. “Hey, um, could I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“I talked to the people at the school,” he starts, kicking at the gravel under his feet, “and Harris has that evaluation thing on Monday. Would you…”

You don’t even let him finish his request before confirming, “I’ll be there.”

Eddie’s body instantly relaxes, relief flooding through him at your words. “You’re amazing.” He looks around to make sure Harris can’t see before kissing you, lips quickly melding together. He has to pull back before he wants to, before either of you want to, to avoid getting caught. He tastes like coffee and syrup with a hint of berries, though the kiss is too brief to pick up on anything else. A stirring inside you informs you that he could kiss you for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough. “See you, Sweetheart.”

Mondays are characteristically exhausting; kids are home for two days on the weekends and return behaving like they’ve never seen a classroom before. Today is no exception, but the coffee Eddie left on your desk this morning certainly helps. He’d tried to sneak in, but you’d caught him, and it took everything in your power not to plant a kiss on his cheek right then and there. Scrawled on the side of the to-go cup in his messy handwriting were three simple words that made your heart soar: For my Sweetheart. 

What you didn’t know was that Eddie had thought about what he’d wanted to write for the entire car ride. Nothing too clingy, but nothing too distant. Not sappy but not brusque. Even the word my between “for” and “Sweetheart” was daunting; how would you feel about being his? 

By the time the afternoon rolls around, neither of you are too concerned with romantic gestures. You and Eddie sit in the hard plastic chairs outside the school psychiatrist’s office. He’s already answered all of her questions, so now it’s simply a matter of waiting for the observation to end. 

You can hear Harris giggling from the other side of the door, and you look over to smile at Eddie, but he either didn’t hear it or his nerves have built up an impenetrable barrier. 

He exhales slowly, puffing out his cheeks and leaning his head back against the brick wall. It’s a sigh of defeat, not relief, and you lean over and squeeze his hand without a second thought. The edges of his skull ring dig into your palm, but you couldn’t care less. Your only priority is keeping him calm. 

“Hey,” you murmur, crossing one leg over the other. He looks through you, not at you, and you  brush a stray lock of hair from his face to ground him. Once he’s settled, you continue talking. “Everything will be alright. Either he doesn’t have a disability, or we’ll be one step closer to getting him the accommodations he needs.”

Eddie nods. “I know. I just…” He pauses for a beat, struggling to find words that accurately convey his myriad emotions. Besides anxiety about the unknown path that lays before him and Harris, guilt gnaws at him for his past misgivings. The careless sex with Harris’s mom, the stupid fucking tour that he just had to go on while she was pregnant, the blissful ignorance that he could have his cake and eat it, too. “I hate that he can’t learn, like, normally. Like the other kids.”

Your instinct is to tell him that Harris doesn’t need to be like the other kids, that he’s perfectly and unequivocally himself, but that’s not what Eddie needs right now. 

“It’s tough,” you agree, “but Harris is a great kid with big dreams, and he’s not going to let anything stop him. All we have to do is support him along the way.”

Eddie ponders that for a moment, slightly amused at the accuracy of your statement, given what you don’t know. Beyond reading and math–both of which he’s shown improvements in since you’ve begun your tutoring sessions–Harris refuses to give up on his quest to get you and Eddie together. The hand-holding drawing was only the tip of the iceberg; Wayne’s since reported that the boy has asked multiple times about when “Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart will fall in love.” And, of course, he hasn’t stopped talking about your Saturday afternoon diner date, constantly badgering Eddie about whether or not you two were married yet.

Eddie rests his head on your shoulder, curly tendrils tickling your collarbones. All you want is to let him stay there as long as he needs, even if your legs fall asleep, but the nagging thoughts of passersby’s perceptions triumph over your desires. 

“Eddie, I…” you trail off, gently lifting your shoulder so he’ll get the hint without you having to say it aloud. Self-consciousness pinkens his cheeks as he sits up, adjusting his posture and mumbling a soft “sorry” under his breath.

“S’fine,” you rush to reassure him, praying that he doesn’t misconstrue your professionalism with shame of being seen with him. You would comfort any of your students’ parents in times of distress, but let’s face it–you would never snuggle up to Jason Carver or Carol Perkins. “Just don’t wanna be accused of canoodling on the job,” 

He lifts his eyebrows. “Canoodling?”

“It’s a word!”

“You’re the one with the fancy college degree, so I guess I gotta believe you.” 

You giggle softly, brushing his Reeboks with your flats. “Seriously, it’s gonna be okay. Whatever happens, I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. The words replay like an enchanting melody. You’ve got him. You’ve got him, and you’ll have him as long as he vows to hold on.

“Mr. Munson?” 

Eddie’s attention snaps to Ms. Cassie, the school psychologist. Harris darts from her office, a giant smile on his face as he leaps into his father’s arms. “Daddy, we played games! It was lotsa fun!”

“That’s great, Har Bear,” Eddie murmurs into Harris’s scalp. He looks up at Ms. Cassie expectantly. “How did everything go?” Is my son okay? Is there something wrong with him? Is it my fault? He doesn’t dare pose those questions.

The psychologist offers a smile, lacing her fingers together in front of her stomach. “Like Harris said, we had a great time. I’d like to speak with you briefly…” her gaze flits over to the hallway. “Is there someone who could keep an eye on Harris while we talk?”

Eddie’s heart sinks; privately, perhaps naively, he’d been wishing that there wouldn’t be anything else to discuss. Maybe a chipper, everything’s fine; he’ll catch up to the other kids on his own! But nothing so serious that it required an additional meeting.

“My TA can,” you pipe up, remembering that Will had stayed back to prepare an art project for tomorrow morning. Eddie puts Harris down, watching as you take his chubby hand in yours and make your way to your classroom. 

Ms. Cassie starts to wave Eddie into his office, but he shakes his head. “Wanna wait for her to get back,” he tells her, and she nods understandingly. As soon as you return, the two of you take a seat in front of her desk. Paperwork is stacked neatly in piles across the top of it, and framed diplomas line the walls. Board games sit on the shelves, and Eddie can’t help but wonder which ones Harris played this afternoon.

“I want to start off by saying that Harris is one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with,” Ms. Cassie says. Her tone is even and patient, which makes Eddie more anxious. He wants to jump up and demand that she spill the bad news already, but he bites his thumbnail to calm his nerves. You notice the gesture immediately and inconspicuously grab the hand closest to yours, hiding your display of affection below the desk. Eddie grips so tightly that you have to actively suppress a grimace.

“The evaluation indicates that Harris meets the requirements to be classified as a ‘preschooler with a disability,’” she continues, “and as a result, he qualifies for special education services–”

“What the hell does that mean?” You wince at the vitriol in Eddie’s voice, and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand. It brings him back down enough for him to clear his throat and apologize, but you can sense that he’s still on-edge.

“That’s alright, Mr. Munson. You’re not the first parent to react that way, and I’m positive you won’t be the last.” She taps a small pile of papers on her desk to even them out before handing them to him. “The classification means that he will get an Individualized Education Program–IEP for short–that will help us target goals for Harris to make progress alongside his peers.”

Ms. Cassie drones on about short-term and long-term objectives, but Eddie can’t focus on what she’s saying. Preschooler with a disability. My son has a disability because I left, because I wasn’t there, because I trusted someone I shouldn’t have. It’s all my fault. My fault my fault my fault–

“Eddie,” you whisper, but it’s no use. You watch as his ribcage expands and contracts faster with manic breaths, on the verge of hyperventilation. You shoot the psychologist an apologetic glance and pull Eddie from the office before he can launch into a full-blown panic attack. His body is like a ragdoll, and he trails behind you mechanically; if you let go of his hand, he’d probably stop dead in his tracks.

“Baby,” you say, bringing him to an empty classroom. The nickname rolls off your tongue easily despite technically being in your place of work. “Baby, it’s just you and me right now. You’re okay–”

“Harris–disability–my fault.” His words are low and gravelly, but you hear them without having to strain. They’re similar to the sentiments he’d uttered that day at parent-teacher conferences when he’d unexpectedly showed up at your door.

There’s no use trying to convince him otherwise, not when he’s like this, so you try a different approach. “I can talk to Ms. Cassie about rescheduling the meeting. We don’t have to figure everything out right away.” He nods, just a miniscule bob of his head, but it tells you that he’s cognizant enough to comprehend what you’re telling him. “In the meantime, why don’t you go see Harris? I bet he’s drawing something for you.”

That gets a smile out of him. “Y-Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t move; instead, he brings you closer to him and holds you to his chest so close that you can hear his heart beating. His body shakes, but it’s not until you feel a warm teardrop fall from his face onto the top of your head that you realize he’s crying. You wrap your arms around his lithe waist until you feel him begin to steady, staggered breaths becoming fuller. 

Wiping the tear trails from his cheeks carefully, you press a tiny kiss to his nose. “Wash your face and go to my classroom. I’ll meet you there.”

“‘Kay,” he manages, wishing he had the means to express his gratitude for your words, your presence, you. 

When he gets to your classroom, Harris is furiously scribbling on a piece of construction paper with his new markers. Eddie smiles, leaning against the door until Will spots him.

“Harris, your dad’s here!” he announces, and Harris looks up excitedly.

“Daddy!” he exclaims. “I’m almost done with my picture, hold on!” He grabs a blue marker and uncaps it, marking the paper with concentrated dots. He replaces the cover and slides the marker back into the yellow-and-green box. 

He’s always so diligent with his art supplies, Eddie notes.

“Ta-da!” Harris spins the drawing so his dad can see. There’s three people–you, Eddie, and Harris. You’re standing around a large purple rectangle with a line coming out of each corner, which Eddie recognizes as a table. There’s a circle representing the plate of chicken fingers in front of Drawing Harris, and a circle between Drawing You and Drawing Eddie with blueberry pancakes. Just like on Halloween, he’s drawn a smile on everyone’s faces.

“He’s really good,” Will says, and Eddie looks at him in amusement. “Seriously, he is. He’s got great spatial awareness when he draws, which most kids don’t develop until later. And he’s got an eye for detail,” he adds, pointing to the blue dots on the pancakes. “Looks like you’ve got a little artist.”

An artist. Not a failure, not incapable, but an artist. A boy who could grow up and inspire the world with his creativity.

“I love it,” Eddie says finally, reaching out to take the drawing. He frowns when Harris snatches it back.

“This one is for Ms. Sweetheart,” he explains exasperatedly, as though this is something he’s had to repeat multiple times. “We already have one at home, Daddy. Renember?” His pout quickly becomes a grin when he sees you enter the room. “Ms. Sweetheart, I drawed this for you!”

“I love it!” You inadvertently echo Eddie’s statement as you hold the paper to your heart. “This is gonna go on the kitchen wall so you can see it when you come over for tutoring.” You turn to Eddie, eyes warm with understanding. “How are you feeling?”

“I dunno,” he answers honestly. “Kinda sad, kinda mad, kinda relieved that there’s an answer.” He scratches at the stubble on his cheeks. “‘M just…really glad I don’t have to go through it alone.”

“I’m always here for you, Eds. You and Harris.”

Eddie’s curls bob up and down as he slowly nods. “Speaking of which, um, you said something about tutoring him? Are you feeling up to it? I can bring pizza—o-or not, if it makes you sad. We could do Chinese or something—”

“Eddie?”

“Ya?”

You look down at the drawing of your little chosen family at Benny’s. It’s certainly different from the times you went with Grandma, but you’re filled with the same feeling of belonging that you’d felt then.

“Extra olives for me, please.”

--

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[sometimesanalice]

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.

His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.

Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.

Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.

He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.

How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.

And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.

Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.

And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.

At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.

Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.

You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.

The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.

From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.

And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites. 

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.  

The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.

Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.

However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.

He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.

Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.

“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”

He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.

Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.

He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him. 

“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”

There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.

“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”

You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.

“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.

You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.

“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.

“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

“Commander.”

You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.

Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.

The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.

 Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”

“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.

“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”

“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”

He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”

“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”

“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”

“You mean Bagman?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

He smirks to himself. 

“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”

He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.

And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.

You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.

“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”

You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.

Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.

He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.

“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 

It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.

He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.

You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”

“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”

“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”

“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.

He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.

Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.

You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them.  The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.

It’s easily his favorite tour of the day. 

He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.

Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.

Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.

So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.

Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.

And when you turn around he doesn’t step back. 

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”

His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.

“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”

He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.” 

It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.

“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.

You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”

This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now. 

Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer. 

The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins. 

It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head. 

He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.

The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.

“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.

So he tells you. 

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.

And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.

In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.

“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”

He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”

You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”

You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”

God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.

“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”

You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”

“Portland is the City of Roses.”

“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.

“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.

He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”

“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.

“I’m trying to,” you whine.

He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”

“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.

Your hand feels so good on him.

“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat. 

He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.

“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.

He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”

Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.

“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”

He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.

You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.

Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.

Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.

“Holy shit.”

You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.

The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.

That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.

You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.

“’s big,” you sigh shakily.

“Tell me how much you like this cock.”

He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.

“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”

He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.

The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.

How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.

“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”

“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Please, Bradley. Please.”

He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.” 

He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”

He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.

The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.

He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.

Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.

“Rooster, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.

Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.

You’re so perfect for him.

He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.

And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.

He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table. 

He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.

You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.

Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.

He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.

Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.

And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.

It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.

“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.

“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 

He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”

“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”

“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.

“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.

The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.

He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 

“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.

“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”

Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.

Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!

Thank you for reading!

Update! If you want to learn about the night they met, I wrote these two a little prequel series you can read here!

Hey, Sailor Moodboard

A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two

If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three

You can check out my other stories and series here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse​ @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes​

[oneforthemunny]

something new |rockstar!eddie munson x nepobaby!reader|

prompt: eddie takes you to your first drive-in movie during the fall.

still on my fall shit and not sorry about it lol. had to do one for my faves. timeline wise- established dating but not yet engaged, still secret. very fluffy and sweet and i'm so in love with them. mentions to reader's shitty parents but the sweetest fluff <3

“Should I get in the back?” You chewed on your manicured nail, ducking lower and lower into the seat of the old van, hoping the headlights from the car behind you wouldn’t give you away- reveal your little secret. 

“What?” Eddie’s brows pinched in confusion. 

“No, don’t do that. They’ll think we’re tryna sneak people in. They won’t let us in. Trust me.” He snorted lightly. “Used to do that all the time. If this old guy’s still workin’ up here, he’ll definitely remember me. Think I’m still up to no good.” 

“You are still up to no good.” You grinned. 

“Yeah? You think so?” Eddie’s lips curled in a half smirk, the vans breaks groaning as he let off them, rolling towards the ticket booth. “Thought I was being pretty good takin’ you here. Can’t believe you’ve never been to a drive-in, baby.” He cranked the window down, the cool autumn air filling the space quickly. 

“You really think Victor and Tana would take me to a drive-in?” You scoffed lightly, ignoring the bitter pang of hurt in your heart at the mention of your parents, the crueling reminder of a less than happy childhood. 

“C’mon, I didn’t have any parents around and I still went.” Eddie leaned his head back against the seat, looking over at you with lidded eyes. “Didn’t even go to South Bay Six? Even I’ve been there.” 

“Oh?” You scoffed, brows lifting in a snarl of disgust. “Yeah? What girl did you go there with, Ed? Claudia?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What makes you think I took a girl there? Used to come here by myself all the time.” Eddie threw a hand out towards the Hawkins drive-in, busier than usual for ‘Slasher Saturday’. 

Eddie had told you about it, pillow talking while you shared a cigarette, chatted about Halloween and swapped bittersweet childhood memories. He’d told you about the Hawkins’ drive-in, the Slasher Saturdays they always did in October. 

“I’ve always wanted to go to a drive-in.” You had hummed, stretching against the cool silk sheets with a content sigh. “Always thought it was so romantic.” 

Eddie blinked at you, the cigarette burning between his fingers. “You’ve never been before? Never? To a drive-in?” You had shook your head, that sheepish look took over your features, shy and sweet and always had Eddie’s heart soaring. He flew you out the next morning to Indiana. 

Your chest filled with warm heat at the thought, swelling with love that still felt surreal. 

The old man at the window definitely recognized Eddie, but not as the lead of Corroded Coffin. Oh no, as the same curly haired kid that had been there before, that had caused trouble there before. “You two enjoy the show,” The old man gruffed, glaring at Eddie with disdain. “And make sure you keep your clothes on. I’d hate to have to throw you out again.” He grunted, leaving Eddie barking out a laugh as he pulled away. 

“Thought you came here alone?” You scoffed, feigning annoyance. “So you have brought girls here?” 

“I didn’t say I came alone here all the time.” Eddie grinned, eyes lighting up in that mischievous way that had your stomach flipping with excitement. “But, don’t worry about it, alright? You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever brought here.” 

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you bit back a grin. His hand found your thigh, squeezing it lightly as he backed into a park easily. A secluded spot in the back, not the best for the showing, but away from the potential wandering eyes who might see the two of you. Who might tip off the paparazzi and ruin your secret oasis of a relationship with Eddie. 

An hour and six blankets later, Eddie had you pinned to the floor of the van, hips slotted over yours, lips hungrily pulling at yours. A wonderfully sloppy makeout that felt juvenile and thrilling all at once. 

“Part of the experience,” Eddie muttered, halfway through the opening scene, his hand sliding over your shoulders pulling you close to him. 

Your clothes were still on, a rarity for the both of you, your jean clad legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer and closer into you. Hips rockings against each other, the slightest bit of friction that had you groaning into this kiss, muffled by the final girl screams that echoed throughout the lot. 

“This what you wanted?” Eddie whispered, lips kiss bitten and bruised from yours, his nose sliding over yours. “Everything you thought it would be?” 

“Yeah,” You sighed airily, a giggle slipping from your lips. “Can see why you like them so much. It’s pretty fun.” Your hands balled and grabbed at the material of his shirt, pulling him back to you, lips back on yours. 

The rough knock on the window came twenty minutes later, the same man from the ticket box barking at the two of you to “knock it off” and “grow up”. You and Eddie held your giggles until he walked off, snickering into each other like school girls. 

“Guess we better knock it off.” Eddie muttered, craning his neck to look out the back window. “We can finish later. It’s about to get to the good part anyways.” 

You snorted lightly, settling against his shoulder under the blankets. “Is this what you did? Makeout until the good part came on?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie grinned, chin ducking down to look at you. “I mean, these kinda movies always start out slow anyways. Gotta do something until it’s the good part.” 

You giggled, rolling your eyes, leaning into his shoulder. Eddie reached into the console behind him, pulling out a bag of candy corn, tearing it open with his teeth. You cringed at the handful he ate, lips curled in disgust. 

“What? Best fuckin’ Halloween candy.” Eddie shrugged through a mouthful. “You ever had any?”

“No,” You shook your head. “It just… I don’t know about corn flavored candy, that sounds disgusting.” 

Eddie laughed, nearly choking on the colorful candy. “Baby, are you serious?” He grinned lightly at you. “It’s not corn flavored. It’s just… I don’t even know, I think it’s just sugar. It just looks like corn. Try some.” He tilted the bag towards you, snickering at your snarled lip. 

You hesitated, looking from the bag back to him. “Are you lying to me?” 

“No, promise.” Eddie squeezed your hip lightly, affectionately rubbing the bare skin above your jeans. “Just try one.” 

You reached in the plastic bag, plucking out the candy corn carefully, eyeing it skeptically before placing it in your mouth. Sugar was a good way to describe it, because you were sure it was pure sugar. You chewed it carefully, swallowing the chewy candy. 

“How was it?” Eddie grinned, eyes lit with excitement. 

“Very sweet.” You muttered. “Didn't taste like corn.” 

Eddie howled in laughter, head tipped back against the cracked seats, shaking the van with his laughs. You rolled your eyes, settling back into the blankets, pulling them around you to stop from the frigid chill of the night, the glow from the screen cast over your features. Eddie thought you looked positively angelic. Hollywood’s princess, here in Hawkins, embracing the culture, embracing a part of him. 

He could barely focus on the movie, his favorite part of the film, mind racing with words and feelings of affection that had his heart skipping. Eddie hoped you couldn’t feel it. He’d take you to a pumpkin patch, a real one tomorrow, to do a hayride and maze and all the cheesy activities people did in the fall- all the ones you had never got to do. 

Eddie called his assistant early the next morning, before you were awake, when the sun had just barely begun to rise over Lover’s Lake. Cigarette and coffee in hand, he sat in the quiet of the fall morning, speaking softly into the receiver. 

When you both returned to Los Angeles the following Thursday, Eddie left you early Friday morning, still jet lagged and exhausted from the week, and drove an hour and a half to the jewelers. He had no doubt in his mind, after that trip, that he wanted that forever. Wanted it forever, with you, and he decided right then and there- at the drive in, that he’d spend forever with you. 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Hello, hello! Congrats to the milestone! For the festivity may I wish for a fic with 1/A; 2/Canon- adjasond; 3/Hurt/Comfort and 4 is up to you. If it fits your jam, would be an outsider pov be possible? 👀

Thank you so much for the ask, I definitely gave myself some feels writing this one! I've never done a Wayne POV before, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out. 🥲

Your first warden

Words: 999

Rated: T

Tags: POV Wayne Munson; Good uncle Wayne Munson; Child neglect; Child abuse; Alcohol abuse; Drowning; Referenced parental death; Eddie had a shitty childhood; Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Hurt Eddie Munson; Recovery; Caretaker Steve Harrington; Hurt/comfort

The first time Eddie almost died, he was two years old. 

Al had insisted on bringing him along for that fishing trip. A proper men's day out, he'd said. Of course Al’s idea of a proper men's day out was hitting the booze the second they arrived. By the time Wayne heard him snore, little Ed had already wandered off. 

He found him floating face down between the reeds a few yards away. The water lillies and the pretty lights rippling on the surface must've drawn him in. Wayne thinks he lost five years of his life in the seconds between pulling him out and the kid's first coughs filling the air.

“‘s okay, kiddo,” Wayne murmured as he rocked the both of them, tears and lake water drenching his flannel. “‘s okay. I gotcha.”

The ruckus drew Al, of course. He took one look at them and yanked Eddie away by the arm, slapping him hard across the face. 

“Quit howling, it's your own damn fault for going in the water. And you,” his eyes found Wayne's and his face twisted into something ugly. “Who d'ya think you are, his fucking guard dog? Keep your nose outta things that don't concern ya.” 

And maybe it was because Wayne never liked being told what to do, least of all by his drunk, deadbeat brother - but he promised himself something on that day. 

For as long as Eddie would need him, he'd watch over him. 

He'd often think back on that promise over the years. Teaching Eddie to ride a bike. Letting him sob into his shoulder at his mom's funeral, daring Al to say something about being a man one glare at a time. Taking him in when he showed up on his doorstep, bruised and beaten, hair shorn so short his scalp was bleeding in places. 

Wayne never regretted his decision, and he never broke that promise. 

Until the day Eddie almost died the second time. 

*

The beemer parked by the new trailer is a sight he should be used to by now. Still, Wayne can't help but grumble as he makes his way up the porch steps. 

Don't get him wrong, he'll be forever grateful to the Harrington boy for carrying Eddie out of literal hell, but he isn't sure if this new friendship between the two will ever be anything but bizarre to him. 

Maybe it's because the Harringtons don't mingle with the likes of them, or maybe it's because the lad is the exact type of kid Eddie hates with a passion, usually. 

Maybe it's because Wayne has noticed the way Eddie looks at the boy. He's always had a way of getting in too deep, Eddie has. Drawn to pretty flowers and rippling lights that'll slip through his fingers when grasps at them, luring him in until it's too late. 

The first thing he hears when he steps inside is a thud, followed by a wince. He's just taken the first step when Harrington barrels out of the kitchen and into Eddie’s room, completely unaware of Wayne standing in the door. 

“Eddie? What are you doing?” 

“Nothing,” comes Eddie’s reply, and Wayne knows that tone. The just-got-caught-doing-forbidden-shit one. “Just trying to put up this fucking thing.” 

Toeing off his boots, Wayne hovers closer to the half-open door. A look inside reveals Eddie, sitting on the bed with a sheepish grin on his face and that giant banner he made for his band beside him. Harrington, back turned to the door, huffs and picks up the hammer lying on the ground. 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he scolds, climbing onto the bed and gesturing for Eddie to hand him the banner. A few swift movements and knocks of the hammer later, it’s hanging. “You could’ve opened a wound. Again. What do I need to do to make you stay in bed, tie you up?” 

Eddie grins toothily. “Okay, one: I am in bed, technically. And two: oooh, kinky.” 

Wayne groans soundlessly. Harrington rakes a hand down his face, plopping down cross-legged on the mattress. 

“Eddie.” 

Their knees bump together. Now that he has turned and he can see him in half-profile, Wayne recognizes the concern on Harrington’s face. Eddie’s grin shifts into something softer. 

“I know,” he says, watching his hand fiddle with a loose thread on his pajama pants. “It’s just … It’s annoying, not being able to do anything on my own. Being such a goddamn burden all the time. To Wayne, to the kids. To you.” 

“Hey.” Harrington’s hand settles on top of Eddie’s. “You're not a burden. We're all glad you're here. I'm glad. You know that, right? 

Eddie flips his hand, tangling their fingers together, and Harrington doesn't pull away. 

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs. “I know.” 

Harrington smiles, reaching up to cup Eddie’s face with his free hand. 

“You just wait,” he winks. “You'll be back to walking on tables in no time. And in the meantime …” 

Eddie melts into the touch, lashes brushing the other boy's palm as his eyes flutter shut. 

“In the meantime, you got me.” 

“I gotcha,” Harrington confirms, and leans in. 

Wayne is just about to sneak away when the kettle whistles in the kitchen. The boys turn … and then they all just sort of freeze.

“Hiya, boys,” Wayne rumbles when they're still silently gaping at him a few seconds later. 

“Mr. Munson,” Harrington croaks. “I mean … sir. I mean … hi?” 

“Wayne?” Eddie blurts. “H-how long have you been standing there?” 

Wayne considers that question while both boys continue to stare at him with matching scarlet blushes coloring their cheeks. Their hands are still lying entwined on the mattress between them. 

“Long enough, I reckon,” is what he finally says. “I'll take care of the kettle, Steve. You lads stay put.” 

And with that, he closes the door on their confused faces and makes his way into the kitchen. It's been a long day, and he's looking forward to resting his feet. 

More celebration ficlets

[nu1lst4rs]

doodled human designs for nightmares gang!

click for better quality

ggrahhb. i love them. will draw individual refs soon. promise. cross has jumped between nightmares gang and star sanses, and therefore is considered a neutral outcode in our au. so ill draw him later.

horror fws the trans community

Star sanses, neutral aus (p1), neutral aus (p2), extras

some headcanons under cut 3_^

warning there is alot of text

> nightmare (they/it)

DESI NIGHTMARE!!!! (this is blatant self projection.)

short. but they always manipulate their height when they're outside of their gang because they hate being short.

chubby because its ass is not used to actual food, and they have a really slow metabolism when it isnt negativity. and now that horrors "forcing" it to eat, they gain weight. fast.

intersex. not sure why i think this but they don't really have a sex, so. erm.

^ adding onto that their fluid in their expression. sometimes masc, sometimes fem, sometimes andro.

has those stupid ass hair curlers and uses leftovers for their tentacles

MATCHING NECKLACES WITH MY OTP AT THE CURRENT MOMENT. usually errormare or bsp. sometimes fluffynight. killermare if nihira is fronting.

also sugar daddy nightmare. its either rich as fuck or have no money at all. (this is kindve a crack hc)

> Dust (he/they)

leaning korean and thai mix for him. because i need to see more mixed characters.

wears pjs whenever he can. gets the most fucking stupid pj pants too. like hello kitty. comfort > style.

always dusty. mostly because he doesn't shower and smells like ASS, but also because they gotta live up to their name somehow.

TRANS MASC. dont care if you say its wrong. EVERYONE IS TRANS. (excluding horror and blue. allies!)

aroace spec 100%. most sanses are, but him in particular. would rather die than do any of the sappy bs. but wouldd love to have a partner. or maybe 3. wink wink.

"2 shorter than killer but gaslights killer into thinking he's taller

doesn't wear papyrus' scarf, but keeps it in his sleeve.

> Horror (he/him)

wanna hc him as native american. but i haven't exactly thought much about what in particular.

tall and bulky. after a lonnggg famine, horror developed an ED. where they stress eat until he's physically ill, or feeling less stressed.

doesn't need the bandages on his face, bur keeps them there because he hates the scar

little big bottom teeth. its something he developed due to the food conditions in HT snowdin.

as much as it happens, horror HATES having blood on him, so he wears an apron underneath his clothes and does the laundry often.

PROSTHETIC LEG!!!! it got stuck in a bear trap when he was in his old au, and alphys didnt really know what else to do. its not the best thing, but its reliable. killer likes to put stickers on it.

has a cleaver named maxine, and an axe called rex.

ace because i dont really think. yeah. gross. ew. intimacy.

> killer (he/they/it)

arabic. its almost canon at this point.

has a selection of knifes in his thigh thing if his magic backfires on them. favourite is its butterfly knife.

is legally blind. his ass CANNOT see. refuses to admit this.

acespec because like look at me. he can barely feel. i just think he'd love the idea of being in a relationship, and desperately want one. but know he cant be in one.

scars galore holy shit. is always somehow simultaneously sloppy and precise with his knifework. him and nightmare have a small rivalry to see who can get the most.

needs to have textures on his clothes. something to ground themself. like "oh shit we're dissociating." rubs pants aggressively. works for us.

transb... transverse...

also DID but this is hinted at in canon

HUh. okay wow that was alot. cres shut up about utmv for 5 seconds (IMPOSSIBLE) (I DIED AFTER 1 SECOND). anyways THANK YOU!!! i will post and draw stars and neutrals tomorrow maybe. just after some sleep because it is 2am. bye everyone 3.<

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

I was wondering if you could do a really sweet "reunion" between Eddie and his gf in the cafeteria. Like, maybe she had to go to the dentist in the morning so they haven't seen each other all day, and Eddie is all grumpy and snappy with the Hellfire guys and Dustin is like "what's the matter with him? Wake up in the wrong side?" and Jeff replies "woke up with no Y/N is more like it" and then she comes into the cafeteria and they behave like they haven't seen each other for months 😊

Request by @somethingvicked

Warnings: Grumpy Eddie, Fluff.

❤️

Eddie was in one hell of a bad mood. You had to leave early this morning for the dentist, which meant he woke up without you.

Not only had he woken up without you this morning, there was no sleepy morning kisses and cuddles.

You weren't cuddled up on his chest when he woke up, the two of you exchanging sleepy, kisses and whispers of love. Your morning ritual.

He hated going without his morning kisses from you. It was the best start to the day, his highlight of the day.

Everyone around Hawkins thought he was mean and scary as shit but you knew the soft side to him, with you he was as soft as a marshmallow.

Wayne takes one look at his pissed off face and hides his smile behind his coffee mug as Eddie heads into the kitchen for breakfast.

"In a mood this morning son?" Wayne asks amused.

Eddie grumbles and pours some coffee into his Garfield mug.

"What gave it away? " he replies sarcastically and Wayne chuckles.

"Saw your girl leave early this morning for her appointment, I figure that's why you're like a storm cloud just now?" Eddie nods and finishes his coffee wincing at the taste.

This is why he prefers a YooHoo but this morning was already shit so extra strong, black coffee it was.

His mood didn't improve in school, it got worse, Carver said some dumb shit to him, Eddie usually ignored the asshole but today he wound him up, just to cheer himself up.

As usual the douchebag went running to the safety of his friends. He knew Jason was secretly terrified of him, he backed down fast.

Being a freak had has its advantages.

By noon, he was grumpy as fuck, the constant chatter between the boys was getting on his last nerve.

"Jesus h christ. Would you shut the fuck up" he huffs at them as they chat.

Gareth snorts. "What's up with you man?"

"Nothing" he snaps and continues to eat his pretzels, he's impatient to see you. Being around you helps the chaos of his mind, calms down his restless energy.

He loves being with you-loves you so much.

Dustin turns to him, eyes wide and he chuckles nervously.

"What is up with you dude? Wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning or something?" Jeff snorts at this and Eddie glares at him.

"Woke up with no yn more like" Jeff supplies and Eddie huffs, a pout on his face and his annoyance growing. It's true but its not helping his mood.

"Dude, you're so whipped" Mike makes a face and Eddie is barely listening as you come into the cafeteria, his heart skips a beat and he grins.

"Princess" he gets up and rushes to you, he's like an overexcited puppy as he is all over you. Peppering kisses to your hair and his pout is replaced with a huge beaming grin.

"I missed you so so much sweetheart. I don't like waking up without you beside me" he murmurs and you cuddle into him.

"I missed you too Ed's. Ugh, I hate the dentist" you say this with a pout on your face, the pout that pretty much has Eddie wrapped around your little finger.

If you give him that sad eyed look too, he's a goner.

"At least it's over with now sweetheart, Are you sore?" he asks worried as you wince, touching your mouth.

"A little, at least my very sexy boyfriend can help me feel better" he hears Gareth and Mike teasing him about this, turns and gives them a fierce glare, that stops them in their tracks.

"Anything for you princess" he kisses your forehead and leads you to the Hellfire table, he's much much happier now his girl is by his side.

He'll happily dote on you all night when you go home.

💞💞

[lovebugism]

hi bug! could i have ditsy!reader with eddie with the prompt “we can put up the christmas lights tonight!”

she’s just the clumsiest bean ever and almost falling off the ladder as she leans across to hang up the lights. and eddie is just gripping onto her waist so incredibly tightly as he doesn’t want his girl to get hurt :((

just something incredibly fluffy!!

ah this is so so cute! i hope you like it :D — you, the clumsiest girl on earth, decorate the munson trailer and make a worrier out of your otherwise carefree boyfriend (ditzy!fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, 1k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The trailer smells entirely of the holiday season — of vanilla and cinnamon and something somehow sweeter. It’s because Eddie’s burning a batch of sugar cookies in the oven. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters as he sits the smoking snowflake pastries on the stove. 

They’re not totally black, so that’s a plus. They may be only slightly inedible, though.

He shakes his pale hand from the oven mitt and figures he’ll have to throw them out before you get to them. He knows you’ll pretend to like them just so you don’t hurt his feelings — too sweet for your own good. 

Eddie’s contemplating this when he notices how quiet the living room has gone. The television plays a muted static, but the lack of your voice is palpable. You’re rarely ever so silent. It’s like every room you’re in glows with the sound of your voice. You only get this quiet when you’re super concentrated.

His head snaps towards the living room — not totally surprised to find you hanging up Christmas lights by yourself but still a little terrified, anyway. His chocolate eyes widen in time with his heart plummeting to his chest.

“I thought we agreed to take a break?” he shouts, rounding the kitchen counter and rushing over to you.

He plants himself in front of the couch you stand on, slightly unstable on the peeling pleather cushion. His ringed fingers are warm on either side of your hips. They clutch you tight with a worry you don’t seem to have.

You string rainbow-colored lights over Wayne’s collection of mugs, leaning over the arm of the couch to fuss with the dangling bits.

Excitement and clumsiness is a dangerous concotion when it comes to you.

“We did, but these were the last things left in the box, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them,” you explain in a tiny, faraway voice — obviously distracted. Your tongue pokes gently from your lips as you try to string lights over the last mug on the left.

“Babe, c’mon,” Eddie urges, voice wavering as his hands grip you tighter.

He doesn’t know if he’s helping as much as he thought he would, or if you feel more comfortable being less careful because you know he’d never let you fall.

Either way, he breathes out a sigh of relief when you stand upright again.

“They were looking at me funny, Eds, I swear!” you say with all your usual dramatics as you turn away from the wall to face him. You’re still standing upright on the old, rickety couch, and he’s still holding tightly onto you.

Your brows are furrowed, your doe eyes wide and twinkling with innocence, and your petaled mouth softly pouted. He couldn’t be angry with you if he tried. You’re too pretty to do anything but love on.

“I believe you, baby,” Eddie assures you with a soft, pink smile. A small chuckle spills from it as he helps you to the ground again, pale palms clutching the outsides of your elbows. 

He keeps holding you like that when you stand in front of him. He gives you a gentle squeeze there and rubs his thumbs over your skin. “Just let me know next time, alright? Before you give me a damn heart attack.”

“But I wasn’t even doing anything,” you insist, still pouting softly but only so he’ll wanna kiss you more.

He pulls you closer by your arms and makes you stumble into his chest. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, sweet thing,” he murmurs lowly to you and with his lips curled into a pretty, lopsided thing.

“It’s just Christmas decorations,” you shrug in a measly voice.

Eddie gives you a hardened look made entirely of melted chocolate.

You cave immediately. 

“I’ll be careful,” you promise.

His big, stupid grin returns to him. “Good,” he hums, right before bending softly down and smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth.

It’s a fleeting peck — a slotting of your lips and a leaving. You can taste the sugary icing on him, anyway. It leaves you buzzing for more when he pulls away.

“I’m gonna put some more cookies in the oven, ‘kay? Give me ten minutes, and we’ll finish decorating, alright? Together.”

He walks backward towards the kitchen. You beam in response. “I’ll go get the ladder so we can do the rest of the lights!” you offer, voice coated with excitement and sunshine.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie exclaims with a chuckle. Your smile ebbs instantly. “Wayne's ladder is older than I am, babe— you’ll definitely break your neck on that thing!”

You roll your sparkling eyes at him. “You’re being dramatic,” you say with a smile and shake of your head.

“I’m serious, babe,” he tells you, gentle but still stern. He tilts his chin to his chest and gives you a deep brown and serious glare. “Don’t make me fight you over this,” he cautions, still playful in his way.

Your cheek falls to your shoulder. You shoot him a teasing smile and cross your arms over your chest. “I’d still win,” you insist in a pretty little voice.

Eddie scoffs and walks the short distance back to you. “Obviously. But with the power of distraction, I’d keep you from climbing your pretty ass on that ladder, so… Who’s the real winner?”

“Still me,” you joke, smiling when he plants another kiss to your mouth.

“How about you come in the kitchen with me then, huh?” he suggests, if only to soothe his anxious heart. “You can sit on the counter and look pretty while I destroy another batch of cookies. I won’t even feel bad if you make fun of me for burning them.”

Your lips purse softly to the side as you think on his offer.

“I’ll give you a kiss for it,” Eddie blurts in attempts to persuade you.

He blinks, and your arms are wrapped around his neck — an embrace most pleasantly suffocating. He laughs softly, with his nose smushed against yours, and wraps his arms around your waist. He lets you kiss him like your life depends on it a second later.