#Eddie: Uh…yeah. I absolutely am
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Eddie posts a Tiktok of him and Steve getting ready for bed and he’s like, “You’ve been laughing to yourself all day. What’s so funny?”
Steve: I just can’t stop thinking about your manager saying you need to be more relatable because like, you’re such weirdo.
Steve: Even before you got famous, you were a weirdo who walked on cafeteria tables and sold drugs in the woods. You used to hiss at people.
Eddie, amused: And what, you were Captain normal?
Steve: I was - am normal
Eddie; Baby, you were a teenage monster hunter. Who else was doing that other you, Byers, and Wheeler?
Steve: Buffy Summers
#Steve: Wait if I’m Buffy than you’re Spike#Eddie: Uh…yeah. I absolutely am#Steve like all bisexuals love BtVS#eddie munson tiktok saga#eddie munson#steve harrington
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I always found it slightly awkward how media makes siblings or people who see each other as siblings call each other brother/sister all the time as in real life you almost never see people do that with their own siblings (maybe someone out there like that)
In the case of Arkham Shadows I see why they did though because Bruce quite literally tells Harvey he loves him and Harvey says it back. Can't have the audience think Batman is in love with the DA.
They had Bruce pay for his college, pay for his campaign, pay for his surgery, pay for his therapy and had Harvey have him as his best man at his wedding. Wow..... Sugar baby Harvey is real.....
The calling sibling title thing is less common in English than in some other languages for sure- me and a couple of my siblings do it on occasion, but it's for a bit then. More common is when I call one of my close family friends "my sister" or "my nephew" when talking about them to someone else because it's faster and easier to say that than to say "my friend who I've known since she was born and lived with for a few years and consider a little sister" or "child of a close family friend who considers me an aunt" to someone who doesn't know them. Which is a lot of words to say that if they wanted to fully sell me on the brothers thing they should have either had a different bit or should have referred to the other as "my brother" when talking to an unrelated character instead.
But "oh no we have to make Bruce not look gay" has been a problem DC has struggled with more than once for many decades and it basically never works so I guess at least they didn't try to solve it this time by having Bruce pick a lady love over Harvey or cutting the holding hands thing
Because I saw that scrapbook! I know Harvey has been Bruce's sugar baby since he was ten years old! But we can't have Bruce take Harvey's hand and call him the love of his life because ok technically that's Gotham but also because gay. And we can't have Bruce take Harvey's hand and call him his best friend because they're not ten anymore and somehow that seems gay also. So brothers it is, I guess. Even if I think my brothers would bite my finger if I ever tried to pay for everything for them on that scale, guess it's different at billionaire levels
#I'm actually simultaneously a believer in grew up like brothers and absolutely down bad romantically#(and harvey as a representation of Gotham itself as a love)#like an election in two (three) positions at once#but the point remains- you can't really fully cover the care by slapping a brother label on it like dc tries to to avoid it being too gay ig#which is very funny because did you see all the bi Tim and Dick stuff in Gotham Knights- but Robin has always had more freedom than Batman#in the 'can we let anyone think he's anything other than totally straight' department#anyway now I'm thinking about how on earth-3 all the characters get a morality flip#but Two Face/Three Face is the only one i can think of who gets a gender flip as well#as if 'oh if we had just originally conceived of Dent as a woman it would have been better (morally) because then it wouldn't have ended up#looking so gay'#but no they did not explore that thread because apparently uh having love interests in the joker and riddler was more important#which you'd think should reflect back on standard issue harv eddy and clown but uh. not really no they don't want to admit it#and i suppose 'well no three face wouldn't have a thing for owlman because he's technically not a version of Bruce he's a version of b's#brother'#but like then again. if Harvey is his brother. then shouldn't something have been used there to connect it#in any way at all#but no#instead I'm left with many thoughts about Harvey as a brother as a lover as a personification of gotham and as a woman but#i am still very sleepy rn so i don't know how many of those thoughts are coherent#but all that to say#YEAH SUGAR BABY HARVEY#guess it wouldn't be comforting for Harvey to shakily ask what he is#and Bruce to answer 'you're my companion who i turn to for affection in and give you obscene amounts of money in turn'#but like. it also wouldn't have been incorrect.#... though 'sugar baby harv as part of the representation of Gotham itself' probably has something to it too#but i digress I'm sleepy#pocket talks to people#anon#* i meant 'electron' not 'election' in that earlier tag
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There's an incredibly pretty girl at the front desk in Family Video, and Steve—Eddie's boyfriend of eight months—is leaning over the counter with a sly smile and half-lidded eyes.
Eddie pauses in the doorway, struck dumb for a moment as he takes in the scene, and then gleefully ducks down behind the nearest shelf.
"So tell me," Steve says, all low and intimate. "What kind of movie were you looking for?"
"Um," the girl says. She doesn't sound very enthusiastic—barely indulgent at best. Eddie wishes he could see, but any sight of him will ruin Steve's chances right now. He's got a pretty good mental picture though. "I really like those old black and white movies, the really glamorous ones, you know?"
"Oh, totally," Steve sighs, like he's swooning. "Like Cary Grant, Clarke Gabel?" Eddie can practically hear his smirk. "Katharine Hepburn? Ginger Rogers?"
"Oh, I love Ginger Rogers!"
"Really?" Steve says matching her excitement. "Well, you're just in luck! Robin here knows all about those old black and white movies, don't you Robin?"
Eddie presses a hand to his mouth to hide his snickering. Robin had looked like a hooked fish when he'd walked in, she's gotta be gaping stupidly right now. "Uuuh," he hears her mumbling, and tries not to snort too loud. "Y-Yeah, uh, golden age of Hollywood stuff, absolutely. I could? Show you where they are?"
"Oh my gosh, that would be amazing!" the girl says, her interest in the conversation now warmed by several degrees. Eddie is still a little in awe of how well his boyfriend can sniff out gay girls.
"I got the front here, Robin," Steve cuts in smoothly. "You ladies take your time, make sure you pick out a good one!"
Eddie waits another beat, listening at their footsteps shuffle away, before he pops up from behind the shelf. Steve, lighting up like a Christmas tree, beams at him.
"Am I a genius or what?" he whispers, grinning ear to ear.
"Your lesbian powers know no equal," Eddie says just as quietly, taking the girl's spot at the counter, leaning into Steve's space. Steve happily mirrors him, until they're tucked together, the world narrowing down to the two of them. It's Eddie's favorite place to be. "All hail Steve Harrington, blessid he, lesbian whisper. Come to aid all useless queers in the fight against singledom."
"Thank you, thank you," Steve says with an air of novel benevolence. "I promise to only use my powers for good."
"Dingus. Doofus."
They jump away from each other as if shocked. Robin glowers at them both, but the pretty girl behind her is giggling and standing way too close for friendly, just at Robin's elbow.
"Move it, lovebirds," she hisses as she rounds the desk. "I need to check Claire out."
"I think you already have," Steve says. His smile this time is down right evil.
Robin actually hisses at him, and hip checks him away from the register. Eddie does a bow, sweeping his arm out to give Claire the prime spot in front of the desk, before he turns back to Steve.
"My dear, if you could please," he simpers, all posh and nasally. "Show me to your finest, grossest horror movie, thank you my good sir."
"Ugh," Steve groans already heading off into the shelves, not waiting for Eddie to follow. "You're lucky I love you, Ed. Shit gives me nightmares."
"I know," Eddie sings, chasing him. "I love you too."
#steddie#stobin#steve is the barney to robin's ted mosbey#what a horrifying sentence but the sentiment is there#oh no a himym steddie + buckingham au when???#ANYWAYS just imagine the store is totally empty and steve saw this chick at dyke night when robin dragged him along one time#so he felt super confident in the safety of being a lil more open#this was silly i actually wanted to write it about eddie being in love with steve's evil nasty face when he brutally roasts robin/everyone#instead it was this thank you for your time#my steddies
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a fic inspired by this, because i could not stop thinking about it.
“What’s your name?” The girl who’s name Eddie absolutely did not catch, yelled, while holding her microphone out to him.
“I’m, Eddie.” He yelled back at her, not quite sure if their yelling was necessary in their quiet corner of the room, but totally loving the chaos anyway.
“Are you single Eddie?”
“I am indeed.”
“Would you like to change that?”
That question was not hard to answer at all.
“Absolutely.”
“Great, because otherwise this would have been a very short video.” Eddie laughed much harder than he expected to–and oh shit he is much tipsier than he thought.
“So what’s your type then?”
“You’re gonna hate me,” Eddie sighed, knowing that what he was about to say was painfully contradictory, but hey, you can't blame a guy for having his taste in men be permanently altered by a guy he had a crush on when he was 20. “So I like jocks… but like pretty boy jocks.”
“Pretty boy jocks?”
“Yup.”
A smile grew on her face
“Oh easy, give me like 5 minutes.”
And she really wasn’t kidding when she said that.
Eddie had barely had enough time to get himself another drink when he heard his name being called behind him. He whipped his head around to see–
Holy shit
“Harrington?!”
Steve Harrington stared at him with a look on his face that Eddie assumed was equally as shocked as his. But then he’s the first to move, pulling Eddie into an enthusiastic hug.
“Eddie! Oh my god, it's been so long!”
When Eddie is finally released from the hug enough to breathe he responds, “what are you doing here?”
“A gay bar or Chicago?” Steve laughs.
And, oh yeah, Eddie’s stupid fucking crush. If the butterflies are anything to go by, that’s still around.
Before Eddie can respond the girl cuts in, “I’m sorry, what’s going on here?”
“We- uh-”
“We’re from the same town.” Steve fills in when Eddie cannot find the words to explain their fucked up found family situation.
The girl laughs, “what are the chances, jesus!”
“But hey,” Steve smiles in a way that Eddie is sure cannont mean anything good for him, “At least you got his type pretty dead on.”
“Oh my god, I forgot I told you that.” Eddie groans and full body cringes. And Steve just laughs. A frustratingly lovely laugh.
“I’m not surprised you were very high.”
Jesus fucking christ.
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When Eddie comes out to him, Steve makes a big mistake. His first reaction was to thank him for trusting him, which is what Robin told him to do in this situation.
But his second reaction was to say “I also like guys.”
Eddie blinked at him, clearly confused and defensive, like maybe Steve was making fun or not taking him seriously.
“Uh. You do?”
“Yeah man! I mean, no one else knows, but yeah.”
Eddie smiled and thanked him for trusting him with it, said they should hang out more, and recommended a queer bar in Indy if he needed a safe place to explore.
And Steve smiled and nodded like he couldn’t agree more.
As soon as Eddie was gone, he rushed to the phone in his kitchen and called Robin.
She called him an idiot, a dingus, a bisexual disaster —whatever that was—, and told him he absolutely wasn’t allowed to go to a queer bar without her.
She did at least agree to keep up the lie until he could find a way out of it without Eddie thinking he lied to hurt him or something.
But he started hanging out a lot more with Eddie and finding that they had more in common than he originally thought.
Eddie took Robin and Steve to the queer club and Steve…felt at home, felt welcomed, felt like he belonged. Robin kept giving him these looks all night, and Eddie kept dragging him to meet people who he cared about, and one of the guys on the dance floor kept pulling him out there to dance with him.
He felt free and alive and-
Queer.
It hit him as the guy, Paul maybe, was pulling him closer by his waist as his hips rocked to the beat of a song he didn’t recognize but felt like something he wanted on a mixtape. It hit him that he liked this because he liked dancing with Paul like this. He liked this because he saw himself visiting more, even without Eddie and Robin. He liked this because he could picture making out with Eddie in the bathroom.
He froze.
“You okay, sweet thing?” Paul asked him.
“I think I’m in love with my friend.”
Paul’s eyes widened momentarily before patting Steve’s hip. “Is he gay, honey?”
“Huh?” Steve was already trying to find Eddie in the crowd. “Oh, yeah. He’s here tonight.”
“Shouldn’t you be dancin’ with him then?”
Steve finally looked back at Paul, who had his hands on his own hips now, teasing smile on his face.
“Yeah. I should,” Steve thanked him, apologized for any misleading, which was immediately brushed off. Paul was here to dance, he didn’t much care for who he was dancing with.
“Send that beauty over here. She looks like she needs some lessons,” Paul pointed to Robin, who was still looking a little nervous despite the friendly bartender handing her sodas every time he passed by her.
“She’s gay, man.”
“So am I! Doesn’t mean we can’t dance!”
Steve laughed. “You’re right.”
He walked over to Robin quickly, avoided getting pulled back into the crowd.
“I’m in love with Eddie.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “I know, dingus. You literally risked your entire reputation to come to a queer bar to try to impress him.”
Steve balked. “That’s not what this was!”
“Uh huh. Well he’s sulking in the bathroom if you wanna go tell him.”
“Sulking? Why?”
“He saw you dancing with that guy. Think he assumed you were interested in him.”
“Not a chance. I prefer long hair and ripped jeans,” Steve winked. He turned to walk towards the hall with the bathrooms when Robin stopped him.
“Don’t do this if you’re not 100% sure,” she said seriously. “Eddie really likes you and it would destroy him if you were lying to make him feel better.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve started, but stopped when Robin gave him a look.
“You’ve literally been pretending to be queer for the last two months because he came out to you and you accidentally came out to him. You’re lucky it wasn’t a complete lie.”
“Yeah but I wouldn’t fuck with his feelings like that.” Steve knew what it was like to be led on. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie. “I’ll be careful with him.”
“And be careful with you.”
He saluted her as he walked away.
When he found Eddie sitting on the counter at the sink in the bathroom, he was swinging his legs back and forth and humming something distinctly less pop than what was playing on the dance floor. No one else was in here, but that didn’t mean no one would walk in.
He walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his knee.
Eddie immediately stopped kicking his feet and looked up.
“What’s with the face?” Steve asked, reaching up to touch the line between his brows that always appeared when he was pouting.
Eddie shrugged. “Just not feeling it tonight I guess.”
“The music isn’t really your thing. Kinda surprised you like this place,” Steve said as his hand drifted down to his wrist. “Seems closer to a small club than a bar.”
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
Eddie’s tone was sharp, laced with jealousy. Even if Steve hadn’t had his realization five minutes earlier, he would’ve seen what that was from a mile away.
“I was until I realized I’d rather be out there with you.”
Eddie snorted. “I don’t really dance.”
“But you’d dance with me if I asked, right?” Steve’s fingers circled his wrist and he tugged Eddie off the counter. “Even if I asked you to do it right here with no music?”
“Steve, what are you doing?”
“Dancing. Or trying to.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips and started swaying them in sync with his. “It is hard without music.”
“Why don’t you go back out there?” Eddie’s hands went around Steve’s neck.
“Because you’re not out there. I don’t wanna be where you aren’t.”
“Steve-“
“You know I didn’t actually know I liked guys until tonight?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, I really like this one guy. Not sure about others yet.”
Eddie was silent, but didn’t push Steve away.
“He was hiding in this bathroom though. I didn’t really think he’d join me out there, so I brought the dancing to him,” Steve winked.
“You like me? You? Like me?”
Steve nodded.
“And you just realized this?”
“Kinda.”
“In a queer bar?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s pretty gay, dude.”
Steve snorted and smacked Eddie’s chest. “That’s the point.”
Eddie moved in impossibly closer, no room for Jesus between their chests anymore. “So you lied when you came out to me?”
“I panicked! But it doesn’t actually count as a lie if I’ve seen the light.”
“Was it a rainbow light? Or the reflection of the disco ball in the glitter shorts Perry was wearing?” Eddie joked.
“Perry!” Steve smacked his own forehead. “He’s nice. Made me come tell you how I feel.”
“Oh. He did?” Eddie seemed shy for maybe the first time ever.
“Yeah. Said I should come dance with you if I’m in love with you.”
Steve hadn’t felt like this in a while, and hadn’t left his heart on his sleeve like this in even longer. As Eddie’s face went from shy to shocked to flustered, Steve thought about how long he’d been dancing around these feelings.
But no more dancing around them. Now it was time to dance with them.
“Can’t believe you just said you’re in love with me in the bathroom of a queer bar. Don’t even think they clean this place,” Eddie laughed, letting his forehead fall against Steve’s.
“I’ll tell you again outside.” Steve kissed his cheek. “And in the van.” His nose. “Your house, my house.” The corner of his mouth. “Everywhere.”
Eddie licked his lip, skipping over a soft kiss for a hungry one. It was hot, desperate, impatient. Everything Steve hadn’t known he needed.
Then again, he hadn’t even actually known he liked guys until tonight. Maybe he was just late to learn things about himself.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#headcanon#robin buckley#drabble#Steve Harrington is a bisexual disaster and in this essay I will#coming out that’s funny as hell#Steve coming out before he even realizes he’s queer is the epitome of cinematic masterpiece#alas I’m high and could only write this
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Eddie was having the best night of his life on stage, jumping and whirling with his guitar, fingers flying over the frets as he pulled off solo afyer solo. It was the absolute best he had ever played and he had never felt so free. Then, one miscalculated landing was all it took for him to end up sprawled on the stage, completely unconcious.
The EMTs rushed up from where they were stationed on the wings of the stage, the crowd falling silent as they checked Eddie out.
Eddie slowly came to, looking up at the strong angular features and perfectly coiffed hair of the paramedic above him. Wow, he’s hot, Eddie thought. Still out of it and not sure what happened or where he was, Eddie burst out with “Wow it’s not my birthday is it? Why did you guys get me a stripper?”
“Eddie, that’s an actual paramedic oh my god,” Gareth said from where he was hovering behind hot paramedic guy.
Eddie scoffed, “No one this hot becomes an actual paramedic, Garebear. Now just help me sit up, big boy, and I’ll give you all the lap you can handle dancing in.”
The paramedic laughed, blushing a little as he pushed Eddie back down. “I’m flattered but I am an actual paramedic. You hit your head pretty hard here, Eddie. I’m going to need you to stay down while my partner gets the backboard and everything. We’re going to have to take you to the hospital.”
The paramedic’s partner arrived, a tall woman he called “Robin” and Eddie remembered where he was and what had happened. To say he was mortified was an understatement. He answered their questions and said nothing more as they brought him to the hospital.
It was just a concussion but they wanted to observe him overnight so Eddie was sat up in his hospital room, running over the embarassment in his head. He heard a knock on the door before it opened a little. The hot paramedic from earlier poked his head in.
“Hey, my shift is done and I just uh…wanted to check on how you were doing?” The guy seemed a bit sheepish.
“Oh, yeah, uh hi, come on in,” Eddie said, beckoning the hot paramedic in. He came to stand at the end of Eddie’s bed, large hands gripping the footboard.
“I just really want to apologize for earlier,” Eddie started to say.
At the same time, the paramedic said, “My name’s Steve and do you wanna go for coffee when you’re not concussed?”
“Wait, what? Really?” Eddie asked, worried he was halluncinating.
“I’m not promising a lap dance, big boy, but I’d like to take you for coffee if you’re interested,” hot paramedic—Steve—smiled.
“Definitely interested,” Eddie said, smiling back.
Even with the concussion, it had still turned out to be the best night of his life.
#steddie#drabble#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#i thought this up in the middle of the night and then wrote it on my phone enjoy
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Merry Grinchmas - Eddie Munson x Reader
An As You Wish story
Summary: Your daughter Eliza has an affinity for How the Grinch Stole Christmas and plans on bringing her family into it as well
Note: Last year I had I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas constantly in my head, so Luke did too. This year, I am obsessed with the Grinch for some reason, so now Eliza is too lol. Also, I absolutely wouldn't have gotten this done without my wife @munson-blurbs 💚
Warnings: pregnant!reader, Eliza having everyone wrapped around her little finger
Words: 1.6k
[As You Wish masterlist]
“I got Grinch slippies!” Eliza flops back on the couch cushion and kicks her little legs in the air. The fuzzy green slippers move up and down with her rapid movements. “Luuuuuuke!”
Her older brother freezes mid-stride as he makes his way through the living room. He turns his head in her direction and raises his eyebrows at her questioningly.
“Look at my feets!” Eliza vibrates with excitement.
“They’re green,” Luke says, playfully wrinkling up his nose. “They must stink.”
Your four-year-old sits up and sticks her tongue out at her brother.
“Nuh uh!” she defends. “They are Grinch slippies!”
“And you know what they say about him,” Luke says, abandoning his pursuit for the kitchen and plopping down on the couch next to her. “Stink. Stank. Stunk.”
“Who stinks?” Eddie asks, walking into the room.
“Eliza.”
“Luke.”
Eddie chuckles at their simultaneous responses.
“Daddy, look!” Eliza once again rolls onto her back and wiggles her tiny feet from side to side.
“You like those, huh?” Eddie presses his palms against the soles of both slippers and curls his fingers around the sides of his daughter’s feet. “Why don’t you wear them to the holiday festival next week?”
“I don’t wanna get them dirty!” Eliza argues while trying to slip out of her dad’s grip.
“She’s more of a Cindy Lou Who anyway,” Luke says, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the coffee table.
The little girl gasps and Eddie lets the slippers out of his hold.
“Yeah!” Eliza cheers. “Cindy Lou Who! Can I?”
“You’ll have to ask your mama if she can doll you all up,” Eddie says.
“Daddy should be your Grinch,” Luke says, smirking up at his father.
Before Eddie can refute, Eliza does it for him.
“Daddy got too much hair!” she says with a shake of her head. “And Mama is too pretty.”
Eliza tucks her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. Her lips pucker as she rests the side of her head on her pale pink nightgown-covered kneecaps.
“I think Ryan and I should be Who’s,” Luke says, getting ahead of the curve in case Eliza decides one of her brothers should be the Grinch. “Patch can be Max.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Eddie smirks as he plops down next to his daughter on the couch. “What about Grandpa?”
The four-year-old slowly lifts her head up and turns it to look at Eddie with wide eyes. A grin spreads across her small face before she nods her head rapidly.
“Yes!”
Luke chuckles, amused by the idea as well.
“I think you should call him and ask him now, Liza,” he goads.
“Mmkay!” Eliza hops off the couch and strolls into the kitchen as if she can reach the phone on the wall without any help. Right on cue, her little voice shouts out, “Daddy!”
Both Munson men get up to join her in the kitchen, eager to hear the conversation that’s about to occur. Eddie punches the number onto the dial pad and hands the cordless phone to your daughter. She holds the receiver to her ear and makes herself comfortable on a kitchen chair. Being so short, she needs to hop up, then kicks her little legs back and forth, Grinch slippers popping in and out of view.
“Grandpa?”
“Hey, Liza!” Eddie and Luke hear Wayne on the other end of the phone.
“Hi! I gotta question.”
“What’s up, buttercup?”
“Are you comin’ to the Christmas thingy next week?”
“The festival?” Wayne is sure glad he’s learned how to speak fluent Eliza. “Sure thing, kid.”
Eliza grins and her legs begin to kick back and forth faster.
“Ummmm, do you think you could be the Grinch?”
“What?” “Pleeeeeeease?” Eliza pleads.
“What do you mean?” Wayne asks.
“I gon’ be Cindy Lou Who. Can you be Grinch?” Her voice is sickly sweet, having used this tone on her grandfather hundreds of times.
“You want me to be green?”
“Yes, please,” she says with a giggle.
“I don’t know, Lize…”
“Tell him I’ll paint his face!” Luke says.
“Tell your brother I heard that,” Wayne grunts.
“Please, Grandpa?” Eliza juts her lower lip out even though the older man can’t see her. “It will be so much fun!”
“Yeah, pleeeease Wayne?” Eddie adds from next to his daughter, doing his best to keep laughter from leaking into his voice.
“Patch is gonna be Max, Ryan and I—”
“Who the hell is Max?” Wayne interrupts his grandson.
“The dog,” Eliza answers with a heavy sigh.
“Duh, Grandpa,” Luke says, sharing a shit eating grin with his father.
Eliza waves off her big brother and his attitude. The last thing she needs is his sarcasm ruining her chances of having Grandpa Grinch.
“You would be the best Grinch ever, Grandpa!” Eliza gushes.
“Eliza…”
As if sensing she’s almost worn him down, the four-year-old goes in for the kill shot.
“Grandpa, don’t you wanna play with me? Who could ever be a better Grinch than you?”
Eddie and Luke once again share a look, this time a knowing one. Once again Eliza wiggles her way into getting what she wants. Her father and brother are sure of it before Wayne even gives his reply.
“Alright, alright,” the gruff voice agrees over the phone.
“Yay!” Eliza hops off the chair and dances in celebration, spinning around on the spot. “Thank you, thank you, Grandpa!”
“Uh huh,” Wayne huffs with a small chuckle. “I’ll see you then, Cindy Lou Who.”
The next Friday night, Eliza sits at your vanity in the new dark pink nightgown that you bought for her. Just like in the cartoon, the sleeves go down to the little girl’s wrist and it’s floor length. Your daughter already has a perfect circle of bubblegum pink blush on each of her cheeks, and you are now putting on the finishing touch: the pigtails. One little bunch of curls is already tied up on the top left of Eliza’s head, and you’re working on gathering the right with the bright red ribbon.
Behind her, you adjust the red t-shirt that your husband somehow managed to get you. While Ryan, Luke, and Eddie are all dressing up as citizens of Whoville (which they refuse to admit is just them wearing regular clothes), you have an outfit with a more direct connection to Dr. Seuss. The crimson fabric stretches over your baby bump, two fist-sized white circles displayed on front. The circle on your right-hand side says “Thing One” in black Seuss-inspired writing, while the circle on your left says “Thing Two” in the same design. This way even the twins growing in your womb aren’t missing out on the Munson family fun tonight.
In the kids’ bathroom across the hall, Luke is putting the finishing touches on Wayne’s face paint. Both of your sons had far too much pleasure in putting together their grandfather’s ensemble this evening. You’re not sure where Ryan managed to find a Santa coat in Wayne’s size, but you’ve long since learned not to question these things when you’re unsure if you really want to hear the answer.
Luke was also able to fashion a fake horn out of foam to put on Patch’s head that he doesn’t hate. The puppy seems more curious than anything as he walks around in his own tiny costume.
Wayne and Eliza emerge from their respective dressing rooms at the same time and the little girl bursts into laughter when she sees the green man in front of her.
“What’s so funny, huh?” Wayne asks, perching his hands on his hips like he saw the Grinch do in the reference pictures the boys used while putting his look together.
“You’re green!” Eliza cackles.
“He’s a regular old Wicked Witch,” Eddie says, coming up behind his uncle and slapping him on the back.
“Oh, my goodness,” you say, stepping into the hallway behind Eliza. “It looks like I’m in Whoville.”
Patch trots in, as if knowing he was the missing piece of this scene.
“There’s my sidekick,” Wayne greets.
“Let's go!” Eliza takes her grandpa’s hand and starts to drag him down the hall towards the front door.
“Hold on, your brothers have to harness up the reindeer,” Eddie says, taking the opportunity of being left behind with you to take your hand in his.
“Patch!” Ryan calls from the living room. The small fur ball runs out of the hallway so quickly that he trips over his own paws—which he still hasn’t grown into.
Eddie steps into your shared bedroom and comes out with both of your coats. He helps you into your black pea coat before slipping his leather jacket on. Eliza cocks an eyebrow at him and settles her hands on her hips.
“Who’s don’t wear that,” she tells him.
“This Who does,” Eddie replies.
“Where’s your costume, Ed?” Wayne asks. “I’m sure we have time to throw something together while Patch gets all saddled up.”
“Uh, I think I’ll be this Who’s security detail,” Eddie says, slipping his arm around your waist.
“Boo!” Eliza jeers.
“Aw, come on, Ed,” Wayne says, giving his nephew a small smirk. “You can be some Who Hash or something.”
A bark of laughter escapes you, forcing you to cover your mouth with both hands.
“Who what?” Eliza asks, turning to look up at her grandfather.
“Uh, I think I hear Patch calling for me.” Eddie shoots his uncle a soft glare before maneuvering between all of you and out into the living room.
“Guess he didn’t like that,” Wayne snorts.
Eliza huffs and shakes her head.
“Maybe he will like to be the roast beast.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#older!eddie#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fan fic#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWS
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“You know me better than anyone. You always have.” for the prompts if it sparks!
(buddie) (788 words) i still have so many of these prompts left lmao, hope you like this one!
“I’m fine,” Buck says, and to his genuine surprise, he really means it.
Eddie raises an eyebrow. Rude, but fair. “You’re fine,” he echoes, flat and disbelieving.
Buck shrugs. “Yeah, man, I don’t know what to tell you.”
Eddie blinks a few times. “Is this what denial looks like? I think this might be what denial looks like.”
“Denial is a river in Egypt,” Buck replies cheerfully.
Eddie snorts. “I don’t think that’s how that saying goes.”
“Maybe not,” Buck allows. “Still fine, though.”
“Uh-huh,” Eddie says.
“I am!” Buck protests. “I’ll prove it. Ask me what happened.”
Eddie heaves a sigh and stands. “I’m getting a beer. Do you want a beer?”
“I mean, yeah, but not if it's a pity beer,” Buck calls after him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie tosses over his shoulder.
He comes back with a bottle of Buck’s favorite sour, which is ridiculous because the only place that sells it is a full thirty minutes farther than the closest grocery store. It’s absolutely a pity beer.
“Eddie!” Buck exclaims.
He feigns innocence. “I already had it!”
Buck narrows his eyes and takes the bottle from Eddie. “I’m choosing to believe you, but only because I really don’t want one of your godawful IPAs.”
Eddie rolls his eyes and settles back on the couch beside him. “If that’s what it takes,” he says.
“You’re supposed to be nice to me,” Buck says accusingly.
“I am nice to you,” Eddie says. He leans his head against the back of the couch and rolls it lazily to the side to look at Buck directly. “I’ll be nicer if you can find an adjective other that ‘fine’ to describe your current state of being.”
Buck blows a soft breath out through his nose. “I’m good, Eds, I promise.”
“I just—you were more broken up about Natalia,” Eddie says softly. “Why are you so okay with this?”
And that—that is the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn’t it? Because Buck is fine. He’s not emotionless, but nothing he’s feeling is particularly painful or consuming. Being with Tommy was good and fun and nice, but breaking up with him didn’t feel like some terrible ending. It felt like finishing a chapter in a book that you can’t put down and staying up late because you just can’t wait to start the next one. He’s never really felt like that before.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I just am. You know me better than anyone. You always have. Why don’t you tell me?”
Eddie huffs a soft laugh. “Contrary to the beliefs of our friends and coworkers, I can’t actually read your mind, Buck.”
“I don’t know,” Buck teases, “I think you probably could if you tried.”
“Sure,” Eddie says. “Think of a number between one and ten.”
Eleven, Buck thinks, just to be an asshole. He grins at Eddie, who stares at him in mock concentration.
Eddie narrows his eyes. “Stop cheating,” he says.
Buck bursts out laughing. “See? Knew you were a little bit psychic.”
“More like fluent in Buck,” Eddie snarks back.
He feels soft and loose, and it hits him that this is what he’d never quite had with Tommy. They were never as in sync as he is with Eddie. He’s never felt so comfortable, so known as he does when he’s here. It’s an impossibly high bar to hold a partner to, but—
Buck’s jaw drops.
Eddie’s expression shifts to vaguely concerned confusion. “What?”
“Nothing,” Buck says quickly.
Eddie fixes him with an unimpressed look.
“I just, uh—” Buck stalls, frantically searching for words that haven’t quite coalesced yet in his mind. “Um. I think I—”
Eddie sits up a little straighter. “Buck,” he says, soft and worried. “It’s just me.”
It’s just Eddie. Eddie who knows him. Eddie who sees him. Eddie who makes fun of him and trusts him and treasures the little pieces of him he’s handed over throughout the years. It’s just Eddie.
It’s Eddie, and all at once Buck is realizing that it’s never going to be anyone else.
“I, uh—” Buck tries again. “I have to—I forgot to feed my neighbor’s cat,” he lies, standing so quickly that he bumps the coffee table and nearly knocks over Eddie’s mostly full beer.
Eddie’s brow creases. “Okay,” he says quietly, and Buck doesn’t think for a second he believes him.
“I’m just gonna—I’ll see you tomorrow?” Buck asks desperately.
“Course,” Eddie says.
“Thanks for the—bye!” Buck squeaks.
He hightails it out the door and throws himself behind the wheel of his Jeep. Of course he isn’t upset about Tommy. How could he be?
He’s been in love with Eddie the whole fucking time.
#thank you for the prompt anon i hope you liked it!#911#911 abc#buddie#buddiefic#buddie fic#fic#abbie writes#abbie answers#anon
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Eddie reaches for Steve's fruity-scented shampoo - the stuff he swears he hasn't been using each and every time he stays over. He pops the cap and then the lights go out.
He screams bloody murder and drops the shampoo bottle. He kicks it and presses his palms against the nearest surfaces. One on the tiled wall, the other on the glass as he does everything to stop himself from moving his feet because, if he trips on that fucking fruity shampoo that makes Steve's hair oh-so-silky, he'll go slipping and sliding straight through the glass and into the goddamn toilet.
And he cannot die like that, buck-naked as the day he was born.
Though, if he absolutely had to die in the nude, he'd want it to be while he's railing someone six ways from Sunday...
Preferably the hunk who is bursting in through the bathroom door and waving a flashlight right in his eyes.
Steve opens the shower and reaches in to shut off the water. Eddie palms around and grips his boyfriend's wrist, impossibly warm despite now being wet.
"Are you... uh..." Steve drops the light enough from him to stop spluttering about. Eddie blinks hard, regaining enough focus to find a sly smile tugging at the corner of Steve's lips as he attempts to be serious, "Um, are you okay?"
Alright, maybe falling head-first into the toilet would have been a little less embarrassing than this: Steve staring back at him and snickering. He cups his junk and grumbles.
"Towel?" he spits, holding out one hand.
"Sorry," Steve says as he hands the brown (seriously, why do the Harrington's enjoy brown so much) towel over, "It's just you looked like you were in the middle of some naked jumping-jacks."
"Stevie, I was terrified," he retorts, drying off his arms and hands first so he can get a better grip on anything so he can safely get out of the damn shower before it becomes a fogged-up glass tomb.
But Steve places the flashlight tight under one arm and spots him, hovering one hand and placing the other on his dripping wet hip.
"I know," he soothes, now completely serious, "I was scared too."
Eddie doesn't care that he is mostly wet and that his hair is completely soaked, he goes right into Steve's strong arms, feeling his navy-blue sweater quickly dampen between them. Steve maneuvers around to stop their bodies from completely blocking their light source and hugs him tight.
"So stupid," Eddie can't help but mutter, "How am I more scared of the fucking dark than I was when I was six? Besides, how do you even lose power out here in Richie Richville?"
"Well, considering this house is surrounded by trees," Steve shrugs, "We lose power quite easily in bad weather," he pulls back enough to give a dangerously-teasing smirk considering Eddie's state of undress, "Thought you'd enjoy some candles and what-not, anyway. Doesn't Bilbo Baggins scurry around his cottage with a candlestick?"
Now it's Eddie's turn to move away as he hurriedly wraps the towel around himself - to protect his modesty. Yeah... that.
"Excuse me?" he exclaims, "He lives in a Hobbit hole, for one. And I'll have you know his home is well-lit."
"Come on!" Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes and taking his hand.
He leads them back into his bedroom, which at least has some moonlight peaking in from the windows. And yeah, now Eddie can really hear the source of the power outage. The wind outside and the trees that shroud Loch Nora sound like a goddamn tornado.
"Though I think Rivendell surely must have had some sort of electricity," he wonders aloud as he attempts to focus on something else.
"We can debate the infrastructure of Middle Earth later," Steve chuckles and promptly shoves a pair of sweatpants into his hands.
Eddie steps forward, smiling bashfully.
"You mean it?" he coos, biting the 't'.
Steve's eyes flick to his lips as he bites his own, "I can think of a few things we could do that don't involve the power being on."
Eddie opens his mouth, readying himself for a lame line about their palpable electricity that will probably make Steve laugh when the damn radio crackles.
If a physical object could be a boner-killer, it's the damn radio Steve currently has attached to his hip.
"Steeeve is the power out at your house, overrr!" Dustin screeches the moment Steve fishes it from his back pocket.
"Yes, over," Steve answers. He holds a finger up, silently asking Eddie to wait as they make no attempt to move an inch from each other's personal space, "I'mfine-okaygoodbye!"
He clicks the radio off completely and tosses it on his dresser, paying no mind to the fact it sends his Little League trophy toppling onto the carpet.
#ironically i drafted half of this last night when i thought the power was going to go off bc of the weather#but then ONLY the internet went off 💀💀💀#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#lilys ficlets
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i never wanted water once part 3
tommy is also breakup baking, prompted by my dear @sanguinarysanguinity
tw: mention of parent death, mention of child abuse
part 1
part 2
~
Gutierrez eyes him on his way out of the locker room. "Feel like no one ever sees you anymore. You coming back to the pickup game or what?"
"Oh." Tommy gives his damp hair one last rub from the towel. "I wasn't planning on it, to be honest. Too awkward."
Gutierrez frowns. "Why?"
"You know," Tommy says, wishing he didn't have to, "Eddie Diaz. I broke up with his best friend."
"Diaz hasn't shown in weeks. Probably got injured. You know how that crew is."
And that. Well. He and Eddie were friends. They became tight very quickly in a way Tommy hasn't experienced with many people. He shouldn't have thrown a connection like that away without at least trying to salvage it.
He sends a text, a polite, generic one asking about his welfare. Worst thing that can happen is Eddie tells him to fuck off and he's back where he started. He fully expects to be left on read.
He does not expect Eddie to tell him he's moving back to Texas because he's given up on his son deciding to come home. Eddie invites him to a pre-going away dinner at a bar and grill before he goes down South for a few days to scout out homes. And, no, absolutely not. But Tommy proposes getting a drink, just the two of them. Eddie very validly explains that he can't spare the time, since he's already started packing up his life and he's working overtime to save up for a down payment. Tommy gets it. He does.
The day after the dinner, Eddie calls him. "Hey, man. I know we're like two ships passing in the night, but I didn't want to leave without a proper goodbye. I still got some more shifts before I move for good, but the time will go by quick. We'll just stay on the line, okay? Keep me company while I go through my kitchen cabinets."
"It's good to hear from you," Tommy says honestly.
"So yeah." Eddie hums. "Why'd you do it?"
"Text you?" Tommy says. "I heard that-"
"Kinard," Eddie says, unamused.
"Yeah. Sorry."
"You just didn't seem the type to flee."
None of you know me as well as you thought you did, Tommy doesn't say. That's not fair to any of them. "I wasn't, in the past. Well, I tried not being that. A couple times. It didn't work out."
"Oh," Eddie says. "There it is."
"There what is?"
"You've got shit."
"Haven't we all?"
"Hey, I am not denying that." Eddie chuckles. "Do you plan on dealing with it, or letting it blow up every good thing you find until you die?"
"Jesus, Eddie."
"What's the point in mincing words? You did something dumb and destructive. What kinda friend would I be if I let that go without saying anything?"
"So what's the weather even like in El Paso? Does it ever get below 100?"
After a groan, Eddie lets Tommy talk about his shit, about Texas, parenthood, and chess clubs, for the rest of the call. Tommy can't say that he'll miss him. He missed him already and now he gets to continue doing so. All of this sucks.
Tommy tries his hand at gnocchi made with ricotta, lemon, and pepper that subsequently almost causes a fistfight during B shift.
Demetra favors him with a warm smile, taking in the large box in his hands. "Tom, right? Welcome! What's all this?"
"Tommy," he says easily, impressed she remembered his name at all. He hasn't been to this slightly dusty community center in five or six years. "Uh, this is garlic knots and mini calzones."
"Well, hey. You're even more welcome than before. Come take a seat."
December is a stupid time to rejoin group, many of the participants close to the edge from a cocktail of seasonal depression, missing dead loved ones, and generalized loneliness. Tommy knew it would be like this going in. He counted on it. Everyone will have so much to say that there likely won't be any time for him to open his mouth. He's not ready to spill. It will help to just soak in the atmosphere of unashamed honesty for a while.
At his third meeting, Cal, a slender guy in his mid twenties with a curly mohawk, keeps bringing up his mother. "She never wanted me to enlist," he says, "and now that I'm back home and struggling, she can't stop being all 'I told you so' morning, noon, and night. She never says it, but she is thinking it."
"Is she?" Tommy finds himself asking. "Or are you putting something on her that isn't there?"
"Maybe so." Cal pops one of Tommy's fried ravioli in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. "I don't know, I should probably give her a chance, think first about what she's actually saying before I react. But it's hard in the moment, you know?"
"Tommy?" Demetra says a minute later, making him feel like a kid being called on by the teacher. "How's your relationship with your mom?"
"Nonexistent. She died when I was fifteen." He crosses his ankles. "Fell asleep in the car on our way back from an away game and we couldn't wake her up. Heart attack."
Demetra frowns sympathetically. "That must've been hard for a kid to witness."
"I've seen so much worse since then. People shot in the head by machine guns, people covered in burns over most of their bodies..."
Demetra shakes her head slightly. "They weren't your mom."
He ducks his head, pressing his lips together. "True. It's just- That's not- It's not trauma. I don't fear falling asleep and not waking up."
"What do you fear?" Cal asks.
Being left, being hurt, being validated in his belief that no one will ever see him for all he is and choose to stick around. "Standard stuff, really. Clowns, taxes, drivers on the freeway."
He gets a pity laugh, a groan or two, and one outright glare. "Okay, okay." He exhales loudly. "Ending up alone by someone else's choice rather than mine."
"So you're cool with being on your own, as long as you're the one keeping everyone away," Cal says.
God, that sounds idiotic. "Yes?"
"You prefer it like this?" asks a woman about his own age wearing a green bomber jacket.
He shrugs. "It's not ideal, but as far as worst case scenarios go, it's okay. It's fine."
"It's spineless," says a gray-haired man with a Desert Storm hat.
Tommy doesn't flinch. "Yeah, that's kind of an inherent character trait. I keep thinking I got it licked, then it shows up wearing another face. Scared of my dad, so I joined the army and became someone he couldn't hurt anymore. Scared of people knowing I was gay, so I waited to come out until I was surrounded by brand new people. Scared of my boyfriend leaving, so." He pushes at the skin above his knees, kneading it. "So I left him first."
"You fall back," says Bomber Jacket. Her name is Annie or Angie. She has conflicted feelings about dating a man with kids. "It's easy to stop being scared when the thing that scared you is far away."
He hears Eddie. You just didn't seem the type to flee.
Demetra holds up a hand. Tommy's face must be doing something concerning. "No one here faults you for what you did to survive. Is it still serving you, is the question, or is that just what you're used to?"
He doesn't bake when he gets home. He drinks half the beers in his fridge and does a shockingly efficient job of cleaning his house, while drafting and deleting twenty-seven different texts. He then wakes up the next day, and goes to the pickup game.
Gutierrez scores four rebounds on him and doesn't shut up about it for the rest of their next shift. Tommy grumbles, and talks shit, and promises he won't have much to brag about next time.
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"Uh, excuse me, I have a job for you."
*Eddie gestures to The Goods*
😏
God why do I have a full blown mental image. Oh and of course, smut ensues. 😅
Warnings: oral male receiving, allusions to fem oral, established relationship.
"Oh, and what am I supposed to do with that?" You ask, curling an eyebrow, but there's a hint of mischief behind your eyes.
"Well, you're not feeling great and you always say you feel better when you entertain for Eddie Jr and the Goblins-"
"The Goblins??" You giggle, hand forming over your mouth to hide your amusement.
"Yeah, the Goblins. Ugly, wrinkly, live in the underdark?" He shrugs with wide eyes, as if this is stated fact.
The laugh that expels from your chest can no longer be hidden, ringing out long and loud. To Eddie's absolute amazement and joy, you fall to your knees.
"So, Eddie Jr's been missing me? And his little Goblins need some attention too, huh?" Small fingers run up Eddie's fly, locating the zip to pull it down with exaggerated slowness.
Eddie's next words are stuttered at best.
"Y-yeah, I-I mean, o-of course, fuck... but th-they ain't little."
Chuckling as you shuffle his jeans and boxers midway down his toned thighs, your firm palms drag up his exposed skin, relishing in the shake that takes over his legs.
"Of course not. Big, manly goblins."
As if to accentuate your point, you roll one of his heavy balls inbetween your lips, tongue circling it wetly.
"O-oh holy- fuck, sweetheart!"
"I thought they were-"
"OK, OK, just- please-"
Smiling and palming his length, you lick his tip, gathering the small pearl of pre cum, the taste exploding on your tongue.
"Aah, yeah, take it princess."
Happy to oblige, you envelop the whole of him into your warm wet mouth, gagging slightly when it hits the back of your throat. Working the moistened shaft with one hand, you swallow around him, revelling in the feel of his throbbing length in your mouth. Its oddly conforting; a distraction to keep you mindful and grounded in the here and now. He feels warm and solid, pulsating with need so violently that it cries for you. A salty, coagulation of a tear; hitting your throat with the tang of requirement.
"Fuck, sweetheart, th-thats, oh fuck, you're so warm-"
Humming in response, you take him deep; as deep as you can go. Swallowing around him again and again, you roll his balls in your soft hands to coax him to completion.
You don't have long to wait.
"Sweetheart, oh holy hell I'm gonna- shiiit-"
Chuckling with him stuffed inside your mouth proves too much for Eddie. With a final shudder he explodes onto your waiting tongue, flooding each sense with his release.
You suck, and suck, until he blindly yanks you off of him with tears springing to the corners of his eyes.
"Job well done?" You ask cockily, the smug grin smeared all over. Until, he speaks.
"Yes. Now, its your turn. Lie back."
Oh shit.
#ms gexy writes#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x you#eddie x female reader#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x female!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader
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Second Part to Sleepwalking Eddie
Eddie still had his doubts when it came to him sleepwalking. So, Steve did what anyone else would do in his situation. He bought a video camera. Of course, it was right after he bought it that the sleepwalking seemed to stop for a while. Was Eddie fucking with him or was it his kind of luck that this had happened?
Because of the whole sleepwalking naked incident, Steve made sure word got around for everyone to call first before coming over. Eddie had a tendency to take naps after he ate lunch, and it was one of those days. It was also the day when Dustin decided that Steve was just bullshitting them and popped in unannounced. Steve had groaned when he opened his front door to find a grinning Dustin.
"No! You can't come in," Steve hissed. "Eddie is napping."
"So? I promise not to wake him," Dustin said and made his way through the door. "Unless. . .is he really napping, or did you get so annoyed by his presence that you finally killed him? After everything we did to save him. Damn, Steve."
"No, you shithead. I did not kill your precious dungeon master," Steve said, rolling his eyes and closing the door. "I'm gonna call Hop and tell him you broke into my house, though . . . And I actually like having Eddie around, for your information."
"See, I told you that you two would be great friends," Dustin said with his back to him.
Steve rolled his eyes as he mouthed the words with Dustin. He knew he would say something like that. He followed Dustin into the living room and watched him as he flopped onto the couch, propping up his feet onto the coffee table.
"Hey! Feet off the table! God. Were you born in a barn?" Steve asked.
"Boy, wouldn't that just embarrass the hell out of you if that were true?" Dustin asked.
Suddenly, Eddie walked into the room, his eyes closed slightly as he wore nothing but his boxers and one sock.
"Shit," Steve cursed and grabbed Dustin before he went to greet him. "Don't wake him."
"Why?" Dustin asked with wide eyes. "Oh my God! He's cursed, isn't he?"
"What? No. No! Wayne told me you're not supposed to wake a sleepwalker," Steve said.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Eddie grabbed the blanket and wrapped it completely around Dustin. He pulled him to the couch and sat down. He laid Dustin down in his his arms and began to rock him.
"Steve? Steve?! What is he doing?" Dustin asked.
"I think he's rocking you to sleep, man," Steve replied.
"Baby sleepy, shh," Eddie mumbled.
"No, baby is NOT sleepy," Dustin said and then muttered, "Baby just had a nap. . . Steve! Don't just stand there! Do something!"
"Hold on!" Steve exclaimed and ran off.
When he came back, he had something black and rectangular in his arms.
"What is - Steve, is that - is that a GODDAMN camera?" Dustin asked.
"Eddie doesn't believe that he sleepwalks. I need proof," Steve said. "Can you just give it a few more minutes?"
"Fine," Dustin grumbled. "But you should know this is absolutely humiliating."
"You owe me. One, for showing up without calling and two, for walking in here like you own the place. All without an apology," Steve said.
"Don't use logic against me, Steve," Dustin replied. "Why does he have a country accent? Maybe this is his real accent, and he hides it."
"Maybe," Steve said as he adjusted the camera on his shoulder.
"Baby hungry?!" Eddie asked.
"Steve? STEVE?!"
"Shit!"
Steve stopped him before he could press Dustin against his chest.
"Baby's been fed, remember?" Steve asked Eddie.
"By bats?!" Eddie asked.
"Uh, yeah, he's been fed by bats," Steve replied. "He's also had a nap. Can I hold him?"
Eddie grumbled before pushing Dustin away from him and walking out of the room. Dustin unwrapped himself from the swaddle.
"Well, that was strange," Dustin said.
"Dustin, if you tell anyone about his sleepwalking or joke about us being your parents ever again, I'll show the tape to Max," Steve said.
"You wouldn't!"
"I would."
"Fine."
"Steve?! Why the fuck am I in the kitchen and why do I have partially eaten block of cheese in my hands? I'm lactose!" Eddie called. "And don't say I was sleepwalking again!"
"Magic! It was magic, okay?!" Steve yelled back, rolling his eyes.
"I fucking knew it!"
#stranger things#eddie munson#stranger things s4#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#dustin henderson#dustin being a little shit#henderdads
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You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six
Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.
Part One .... Part Four - Part Five
---
“Rob, no.”
“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”
“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”
“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”
“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.”
“I’ll figure it out on the way!”
She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too.
It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened.
That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened.
She touched his arm.
And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot.
Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop.
“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”
“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”
“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now.
“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”
“It’s not his fault.”
“He said it was his fault!”
Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.
“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”
“No! And why are you working?”
Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”
“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”
“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan.
“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box.
Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going.
“Steve.”
“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.”
“Why does he get special treatment?”
Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever.
“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”
Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded.
“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”
Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”
“And that doesn’t make you friends?”
“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?”
The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too.
He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part.
“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”
“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”
She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her.
“New record, champ, that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”
“Ugh, I hate you.”
“Love you too, Robs.”
He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check.
The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces.
If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what.
Like those safety videos in school about seat belts.
Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.
Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself.
“Did, uh, did you say something?”
Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now..
“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”
“Birdie, you don’t--”
“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”
“Got it,” he smiled.
And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while.
***
Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.
Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates.
“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling.
Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.
“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”
He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut.
Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.
Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head.
Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity.
Eddie was still standing there.
“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.
Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”
It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question.
“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”
Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking.
“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated.
“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up.
Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag.
***
Steve didn’t open it.
He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night.
If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days.
“Do you have…?”
“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.”
Eddie nodded.
Eddie left.
***
Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat.
Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it.
She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible.
When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him.
***
Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.
“No.”
“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap.
“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”
Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that.
“No?” he asked instead.
Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’
“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.
“Steve?”
“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”
“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”
Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada.
Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke.
Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale.
“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.
“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess.
“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”
The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six.
---------------
We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.
Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.
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Since I can't draw tonight, here's a steddie prompt for you:
Steve runs away from home once he becomes eighteen because his home environment is absolutely toxic. It's all yelling, and spitting insults, and constantly hearing that he is such a disappointment, so he decides to hit the road and go some city away from everyone he knows and just start over. His trauma response to loud, aggressive spaces leads him to accept a job managing a school library.
And he finds out it is his dream job.
He sees all these teens studying, sharing glances, romances beginning, stress increasing as midterms come closer, annoyed faces, giggling girls gossiping, kids vandalizing his tables... And he feels an observant. A watcher.
And he imagines. He imagines their lives, the tall jock with the widest smile going soft for the sarcastic redhead. The quiet thing blossoming between tose two boys who give longing glances when the other is not looking. The oddest friendship between the meanest eleven year old he's ever met and the most cynical kid to ever set foot in that school. He sees and he imagines, but he's silent.
Because silence is a precious shield that protects his imagination. Silence will never hurt him.
His first real friendship begins in silence. This girl, Robin, passes him a note with a poor drawing of him falling asleep on his desk. It made him laugh. She laughed too. That was enough.
They play this game together in which they both exchanged the craziest theories they could think of about other people's lives.
That one is a Russian spy.
That one runs a secret lab.
That one has mind powers (okay, that was maybe too crazy).
That one is an former cop.
"That one is a rockstar," Robin said pointing an absurdly good looking guy that was checking out a couple of books.
"He does looks like one, though..."
Robin was going to reply when she noticed Steve's rosy cheeks. She just smiled. She noticed the guy looking briefly at them, and then he grinned.
"Metal is more my scene, but close enough," he said.
Shit.
The guy approached them and Robin, the traitor, bolted away. The guy, all dimples and soft hair lent Steve two books and his library card (Munson, Eddie), that he registered and gave back to him.
Steve tried hard not to be an awkward mess, he barely managed to.
"I do actually play in a band, uh, on Tuesdays," Eddie said. Steve looked at him with a twist in his stomach. "And today is Tuesday. So if you want to come, I would gladly buy you a drink."
Steve felt a lump in his throat, and looked down.
"Uh, I—I don't—"
"Oh, sorry, I just—"
"I don't do well with loud noises," Steve said quickly. "I'm sorry."
Eddie nodded.
"Good luck tonight," Steve said, not wanting to leave the conversation in a rejection. He pointed the book. "This one is really good."
"Have you read The Lord of the Rings?"
"Yeah," Steve smiled. "I've got time and silence here."
Eddie looked at him with something hidden in his pupils meant to be discovered by Steve.
Eddie left the library.
There were a few days and a lot of conversations with Robin about that Eddie guy. Steve let himself imagine again, about him. About Eddie. He fantasized a lot, ignoring deliberately the sting in his guts knowing that he blew up his chance.
Two weeks passed and Eddie was there to return the books again, with a small guitar case hanging in his back, and Steve tried his best not to look like a kicked puppy.
"I can do soft noises," Eddie said, out of the blue. It earned him a look from both Robin and Steve. "When do you, uh, have a break?"
"Right now," Robin chimed in, quickly. "He's having a break right now."
A few minutes later they were in the rooftop. They found a comfortable spot with the best views and Eddie took out an old and battered ukulele. Then he looked at Steve.
"I am not a silent person. I exist in noise, and busy environments, and awful high pitched laughs," he said with a smile. "I can't change that, but I can change the noise."
Eddie caressed the tiny guitar strings, and the sound sent goosebumps through all Steve's skin.
"I can change the noise for you," Eddie said, low and soft, and he started playing a song. "If you let me."
His first real love began with music.
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Slow and Steady
Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Notes: This was requested twice, once with Buck and once with Eddie and imma do both lmao
P. S: YEAH SORRY I DIED BEFORE FINISHING THIS
“Oh my god Eddie!” You toss your book down, get up from the couch, and run over to the door where Buck is helping him walk in
“What happened??”
“Trust me! It’s way better than it looks!” Buck tries to reassure you as he guides Eddie to the bedroom, you rush ahead of them and push the covers back and he dumps Eddie on the bed, Eddie rolls over with his face planted in the blankets and giggles
He actually giggles
“Buck?!” You gesture to your boyfriend on the bed and he sighs
“Okay. Don’t freak out”
“It’s a bit late for that!” You cross your arms and Eddie reaches out for you
“You’re so pretty when you’re mad” he sighs dreamily and you nod your head
“Thank you, baby, Evan?”
“Damn she said your name” he rolls back over and Buck rolls his eyes
“He uh- well he kinda fell off the ladder at work and-“
“He what?!”
“That lady was not very nice” Eddie pouts and you pinch the bridge of your nose
“It wasn’t that bad of a fall I swear!! Just you know uh twobruisedribsandapossiblefractureinhisarm. Anyway I have to go back now so-“
“Evan Buckley!”
He literally runs from the room as you’re left spluttering, Eddie is currently trying to yank his shirt off his head but he just knocks himself over
“I left his discharge papers on the table I love you guys I’ll be back after my shift bye!!” You hear the front door slam and you stomp your foot
“Buck!!”
“I don’t think he’s coming back”
You turn to Eddie who’s got his shirt wrapped around his face and his pants halfway off
“Yeah I don’t think so either”
After getting Eddie to just sit still you manage to go back to the dining room for the discharge papers. He’s got two bruised ribs and a fracture in his arm that they’ve put a cast on. He’s been given enough meds to knock out an elephant and after a round of being absolutely fruit loops, he should pass out. He’s also got a bottle of more painkillers to be administered every 6 to 8 hours depending on the pain
“Well, at least he’s not dead”
“Who’s not dead” Eddie is standing in the doorway or rather slumped against the wall about to fall over
“Eddie!! You promised you’d stay in bed!” You gently put your arm around his waist and guide him back to bed and he whines
“I tried!! I promise I tried, but I just- I missed you”
“You missed me huh?” You kiss his nose and he nuzzles against your hand stroking his hair
“Come take a nap with me?”
You sigh as he shuffles over and pats the spot next to him. You crawl into bed and pull the covers over you both and he lays his head on your chest, wrapping his arm carefully around you
“Man I see why you like this” He purrs and you giggle, running your fingers through his hair
“Shut up and go to sleep”
“Mmm yes ma’am”
“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly as you come into the bedroom and Eddie looks over at you, grimacing a little
“Okay I spose… fuck this hurts” He holds his side and you come over and put your hand on his forehead, smoothing his hair back slowly
After he’d fallen asleep you waited for a bit before getting out of bed and getting things cleaned up a bit. You made yourself lunch and got dinner prepped because you weren’t sure what dealing with medicated Eddie was going to be like but you were absolutely sure dinner wasn’t going to be easy without some help
“I know… Do you want more meds? It’s about time to take them”
“Maybe” he takes your hand and kisses your fingers, holding them to his chest
“I’m sorry I scared you. I can’t remember coming in but I know it scared you”
You smile a little “ I accept your apology… you were pretty freaking cute… kinda clingy”
He chuckles and shakes his head “I’m sorry for who I am on pain medication”
“It’s okay, I really like silly Eddie. He should come out more often” you tease and he squeezes your hand a little
“Shut it”
You lean forward and kiss him softly “I really was worried”
“I know… it wasn’t too bad of a fall though”
“You have two bruised ribs and a fractured arm. You’re not Superman”
“Okay, But they could be broken. Besides, I’m your hero baby. I’m definitely Superman”
You narrow your eyes at him and he grins widely, pulling you into him more
“Okay okay I’m kidding, sheesh” He manages to maneuver you onto his hips and you cross your arms
“Where is this going?”
“Oh honey, I know you can feel where this is going” He slides his hand down to your hip and you giggle and bat at his hand
“Eddie you’re hurt. We’re not-“
“Please? I… I need you” He says it quietly and you look at him, he seems so serious right now.
“Eddie?”
“I just need you okay? I don’t- I’m not ready to talk about it”
“Okay”
You pull your shirt over your head and toss it to the other side of the bed, he watches you intently as you move off of him for a second and pull off your lounge shorts. He sighs softly at the sight of your bare cunt and reaches out for you. His hand strokes down your thigh slowly in anticipation and he grins
“Kiss me”
You get back onto him and lean forward, putting your hands on the sides of him instead of on his chest, and kiss him slowly, his tongue finds yours battling for dominance but not having his usual desperation behind it, no it’s all slow and sensual and loving
He wants to make love to you
He holds your hips with one hand, sighing when his cast gets in the way of holding you like he wants to. You smirk and lay it across his chest carefully
“You have to be careful”
“I really don’t want to be”
“Too bad” You reach down and pull his cock from his boxers, stroking slowly before you lean down to kiss him again. He traces the shape of you with his fingers, starting from the curve of your cheek down to your hips, His fingers trace lightly over your jawline and over your collarbone, he pulls away to breathe and instead kisses the tip of your ear, whispering how deeply his body craves yours
“Te Quiero”
His hand glides down your body, exploring your plush curves and teasing your nipples, you feel a shiver trail down your spine as he rolls the little nubs between his fingers, watching them harden
“Te necesito”
His fingers flow down to your thighs, so soft and beautiful to him. He follows the shape of them, teasingly drawing little shapes on the inside of them until he reaches the warm apex of your thighs
“Te Amo”
He slips a single finger inside you, touching you slowly and coating it in your slick. You’re so gentle with the way you lay your head on his chest, moaning softly into his skin.
You squirm with anticipation as he slips another finger in, working you open at a leisurely pace. He’s in absolutely no hurry right now, no quickies in the corner of the station, no eagerly devouring your wet pussy in his backseat. He raises an eyebrow at the frustrated little huff you let out against his shoulder
“Something the matter?”
“Y-you’re tea-teasing” Your body is trembling against his and he loves it. Loves feeling how you’re shaking with need
“Oh I’d have slammed you through this mattress by now if I could have” he reassures you, dipping a third finger into your soaked heat “But for now? I just want to enjoy the love of my life. Is that okay with you?”
He does pick up the pace a bit now that he’s got three fingers inside you, your body rocks on his fingers and you nod, feeling higher than he is right now
“Uh huh, t-that’s okay”
“Gonna ride me, baby? Gonna try and fit me all in that tight little snatch?”
Your cheeks flush and he pulls his hand away, offering it up to you. You eagerly clean it up, staring at him the entire time. A chill runs down his spine as he stares into those pretty eyes, dark and cloudy with lust, and he knows they match his. He can feel your clit practically throbbing on his cock
You get on your knees, your body hovering above his for a second before you line up his cock with your entrance. His eyes roll over your body and he bites his lip, admiring the way your folds glisten in the dim lighting before you sink down onto him. It takes everything in him to let you take your time, he holds your hand, squeezing lightly as you fully seat yourself back on him
“H-holy shit” he sounds as delirious as you feel.
“You’re tellin me” you agree, your thighs trembling as you let your head fall back gently
“Oh my god” You’re a little hesitant at first, you’re not really sure just how much he can take. But he stares up at you like you’re his moon, and he’s seeing stars (literally in his case) and you can’t help yourself, immediately finding a smooth, sensual rhythm that doesn’t hurt him and drives both of you wild
“Fuck just like that” Eddie’s eyes roll back as you ride him, your hips swirling in slow, deliberate circles to hit your spot over and over again because he can’t drive his hips into you like he’s so desperate to do
He pants raggedly as he grabs your ass in his hand, squeezing your soft flesh and bouncing it in his hand
“Goddamn baby girl” he groans in frustration, dreaming about how you look with your ass in the air and face buried in the pillows. You take his hand, putting it on your breast and he squeezes it gentler and teases your nipple
“Wanna suck on em so badly” He mumbles and you look at him, your face is flushed and hot, your mouth open in a little “o” shape as he hits deeper and deeper with every roll of your hips, he trails his hand down your torso, grinning like the Cheshire Cat when he feels the bulge of him in you
“Jesus I never get used to that” He strokes your soft skin, mesmerized by the slow roll of your hips, the way your body moves on top of him. How your cunt squeezes him, struggling with each bounce to take all of him in you
“So tight for me aren’t you? Soaked like a little slut and I’m not even doing anything”
He looks so drunk in love right now as he rubs your clit, blinking slowly up at you. He reaches out with his other arm, wincing a little before pulling you down to him and connecting your lips
“Edd-“
“Shut up” he mumbles, his lips moving in sync with yours as his body shudders as you start to ride him faster, he can tell you’re getting just as close as he is. He cups the back of your neck as your legs spread more, sinking you down further into his cock
“You gonna cum for me baby? My good girl gonna cum all over this cock?”
He’s always had such a way with words. You finish on him, gasping as you try your best not to jolt him too much, your body quakes as you arch your back bouncing on him just a little. He hisses in a painful pleasure kind of way as his hips meet yours anyway, cumming deep inside you. He holds you down, forcing every last drop in.
He lets go and you fall to the side, your body jerking a little as you come down from your high. Eddie has his hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently and you pant together.
“I love you, Corazón”
“I love you too, Superman”
True to his word, Buck lets himself in after his shift. Exhausted he hangs up his jacket and slips off his shoes, padding over to the fridge and grabbing the Tupperware with his name on it
“God I love that girl” He fake sniffles as he tosses it in the microwave and waits for it to heat up. He grabs a tray from the cabinet, putting a fork and napkin on it and a cold beer. He’s definitely eating dinner in bed (the guest room, aka his room) and passing the fuck out.
“Shit shit hot” he drops the bowl on the tray and picks it all up, going back to the guest room. He stops in front of Eddie’s room, the door partially open and bumps it with his side
“Hey, Y/N I’m-“
You look up at him, your mouth wrapped around Eddie’s cock, his hand on your head. You pull away from him and Eddie throws a blanket over you
“Jesus Buck-“
“MY EYESSSS”
#words by rhys#911 x reader#eddie diaz#rhys writes#911 fox#eddie diaz x reader#911 show#Rhys Requests#evan buckley#911 abc#911 fanfic#911 fandom
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casual , part 6
“ someone you couldn’t lose ”
series m. list previous chapter next chapter
( socialmedia!au )
yourusername
liked by rutgermcgroarty, mackie.samo, and 75,188 others
yourusername guess what hoe (affectionate) ruined my day this time 🥰
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→ adamfantilli i will drive back there just to fight you
→ yourusername jokes on you cuz rut n i are already heading to springfield for a mini road trip
→ rutgermcgroarty shhhh you weren’t supposed to tell anyone 🙁
username60 oh look it’s my sanity slowly leaving me
username49 am i the only one still supporting rosie x ethan 😟😟
username18 PLEASE i’ve been begging for more content for forever i’m so happy
yourusername
liked by _quinnhughes, luca.fantilli, and 83,826 others
yourusername what are we?
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vivianliu damn babe when’d you get all philosphical and shit with your little quotes??
→ yourusername when i cried over him for 3 hours straight ‼️
→ rutgermcgroarty i’m sorry you WHAT
→ jackhughes this is unacceptable
_quinnhughes you’re really testing my nerves rosie
→ yourusername how so 🤨
→ _quinnhughes you gotta stop letting him treat you like that kid
→ yourusername i’ll be fine quinn don’t worry about me
username13 SO PRETTYYY
username52 the quotes hit different though
adamfantilli this is literally a direct call out????
→ yourusername it is?? i never woulda guessed 😱
→ adamfantilli yknow maybe you should just end it here
→ yourusername it’s okay i know how to fix things i’m like bob the builder
username67 i’m sensing a cry for help
→ yourusername 🙏
username3 that third quote really hit a lil too close to home
username11 oh babe…
markestapa r u ok
→ yourusername don’t sound like you’re being held at gunpoint 😭
→ markestapa Are you okay?
→ yourusername yes crayola marker i’m just dandy
→ markestapa i’m sorry
→ yourusername for what??
→ markestapa him
mackie.samo he’s just being a pussy rosie don’t worry about it
→ yourusername i’m a chronic worrier 😰😰
→ mackie.samo he’s trying, he promises
→ yourusername wish he could tell me that himself
jackhughes it physically pains me to see you like this
→ yourusername i’m ok!
→ jackhughes you never say “ok” 😭
username25 man this even hurts me
username49 this is why i hate men
→ vivianliu REAL SHIT
rutgermcgroarty this is really affecting you isn’t it..
→ yourusername take a wild gander
→ rutgermcgroarty i’ll take you to the lakes after morning practice tomorrow
→ yourusername you don’t have to
→ rutgermcgroarty best friend duties call 🫡
username74 shitttt this the story of my life
edwards.73 fr
next chapter notes ) so unfortunately i’ve decided that imma make the chapters shorter so it’s easier for me to post and i won’t get burnt out as quickly.. please forgive me!!
tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat
#ethan edwards#ethan edwards x y/n#ethan edwards fic#ethan edwards fanfic#ethan edwards x reader#quinn hughes#jack hughes#trevor zegras#cole caufield#alex turcotte#luca fantilli#rutger mcgroarty#adam fantilli#mark estapa#mackie samoskevich#dylan duke#luke hughes
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