#We are SO close to the trailer I CAN SMELL IT.

[piko-power]

The more ya'll complain the further away the trailer is. /j

[flowersforbucky]

oil & water

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.8k

prompt - "If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so."

shout out to @ellemj for her encouragement with this ♡

warnings/tags: SMUT, vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receving), face sitting, mentions of violence, description of blood & wounds, no use of y/n, reader is afab, hurt/comfort trope, bickering & banter, friends to lovers, forced close proximity trope. 18 plus only!

“Roll your window up,” Bucky snaps at you as he turns down the music you had just put on moments ago. “The last thing we need is someone noticing the blood caked all over the entire right side of your body.” 

As if the lack of functioning AC in the twenty-something year old getaway car (an early 2000’s model Chevy Aveo is inconspicuous, according to Sam) wasn’t stifling enough in the south Georgia summer, the annoyance radiating from the brooding super soldier sitting next to you adds an extra ten degrees. 

Sure, Sam. Inconspicuous is the right word to describe a six foot, two hundred plus pound man with a metal arm cramped behind the driver’s seat of the equivalent to a clown car. Bright fucking cherry red and all. 

“It’s 103 degrees outside.” You glare at him from the passenger seat, where you’re using a tattered handkerchief found in the glove compartment to put pressure on the knife wound on your shoulder. “I’m going to have a heatstroke.” 

“You’re not going to have a heatstroke,” he rolls his eyes at you. “That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” you say under your breath, reluctantly rolling up the manual window with your still bleeding arm. “I got the fucking intel, did I not?” 

You remove the USB drive from its secure location in the cup of your bra and flash it at Bucky. “Though we’ll be lucky if this thing still works after being drowned in boob sweat, since you won’t let me keep the window rolled down.” 

“And nearly got yourself killed in the process.” He grabs the flashdrive from you and grimaces. “We’ll be at the safehouse in less than five minutes, if you can please just refrain from stroking out or bleeding out in the meantime.” 

You glance down at the once white handkerchief clutched in your hand. “I’m not making you any guarantees.” 

You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way, you resist adding. 

Jokes aside, the energy exerted in bringing down over a dozen HYDRA agents in combination with the July heat and the substantial blood loss from your shoulder wound has you feeling woozier by the minute. Factor in a few potentially fractured ribs and a dislocated knee and you're in pretty rough shape. 

As promised, just under five minutes later Bucky parks in front of a small trailer just outside the city limits of Valdosta. It's seen better days, but you don't mind as long as it has semi-functioning air conditioning. 

Bucky is opening your car door and offering you a hand up before you can take in your surroundings. You force yourself out of your seat, ignoring his outstretched hand and attempting to stand on your own, doing your best to ignore the borderline blinding pain radiating from your right knee. 

“Thanks, but I think I can–” 

Your vision goes fuzzy as you stumble forward, right into Bucky's chest. Your hand instinctively clutches the fabric of his shirt as you attempt to regain your balance.

“Let me guess. You're capable of stitching up your own shoulder, too?” 

He gently loops his arm around your waist, slowly walking the two of you to the front door of the trailer. You try to focus on keeping pressure on the gash on your shoulder and not the feeling of his toned body pressed against you. How does he smell so good after hand to hand combat and sitting in that sauna of a car? You're sure you probably smell like a wet diaper that's been left in the sun for–

Bucky opens the door and guides you inside. The interior of the safehouse is surprisingly homey and clean. It's still uncomfortably warm, but offers a nice reprieve from the violent mid-day sun. 

Bucky leads you into the small living space before maneuvering you out of his hold, where you all but collapse onto a suede sofa.

“I guess you do have some amount of good luck, after all,” you mumble, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky glances at you from over his shoulder as he flicks on the AC. 

“That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck,” you quote his sarcastic comment from the car ride. 

“Ha-ha-ha,” he fake laughs just as you did. He rummages through a few cabinets and drawers of the small kitchen before finding everything he’s searching for, then makes his way back to where you are on the couch. 

“Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of water that you hadn't even noticed him grab. For once you don't object to his instructions, uncapping the bottle and gulping down the contents as quickly as you can. 

“You're not having a heatstroke,” he assures you. “But you are going to have to let me stitch up this crater on your shoulder and pop your knee back into place.” 

You sit forward, removing the now fully soaked cloth that you've been holding to your shoulder for the last half hour. 

Bucky winces at the sight of it, handing you a dishrag before opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “You might want to bite down on–” 

“I know the drill.” You sigh before putting the rag between your teeth. 

He hesitates for a moment before pouring the clear liquid over the wound. You groan against the rag, your eyes squint shut in pain. You've had your fair share of broken bones and black eyes working in this field, but you don't think you'll ever get used to the pain of getting stitches without the comforts of saline solution and anesthesia.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dabbing the cut dry with a paper towel. 

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “It's part of the job. I've come out of missions worse than this before,” you shrug, squeezing the dish rag he gave you until your knuckles go white as he makes the first incision. 

“Never because of me.” 

You glance at him, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. His gaze doesn't leave the thread and needle that he's using to close up the gash on your arm - his normally plump pout set into a hard line. 

“You know this isn't your fault, right?” You keep your eyes locked on him. “I saw that guy coming at you out of nowhere and I panicked. I wasn't watching my own back. That's my fault, not yours,” you say earnestly. 

“If you say so.” He glances up for a split second, giving you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes. 

“Is that why you've been such a grouch? You're blaming yourself for me not being careful enough?” 

“Maybe,” he admits quietly. “Or maybe I just hate seeing you covered in blood for any reason.” 

You freeze at the bluntness of his words. You and Bucky have been partners on more missions than you could count at this point - you know that he would have done the same for you if the situation had been reversed; in fact, there had been times where he had taken the brunt of the fight in order to protect you. 

All of those instances suddenly flash through your mind. 

The time he used himself as a human shield when there was a bomb set off during a recon mission at a warehouse in Tokyo. Or when he football tackled you out of the direct line of an incoming dagger during an operation in Portland. Not to mention the time he left a job all the way in Prague unfinished because he merely suspected you had a concussion. 

You had always chalked it up to “that’s what partners do,” but the pained expression on his face as he refuses to meet your eyes has you questioning if there could possibly be more to it. 

No. You’re his partner. He’d do the same for anyone else. He wouldn’t want to see anyone on his team covered in blood if he could prevent it. 

The two of you sit in a thick silence while he finishes stitching you up. 

“There,” he says at last, clipping the excess suture thread with scissors. “Not quite as good as your stitch work, but I think it’ll hold you together.” His voice isn’t as strained as it was moments ago, though you can't help but notice it sounds forced. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed the tiniest bit at his compliment. “Now for the really fun part,” you add, staring at your throbbing knee. 

“You’re in luck,” he says, perking up a bit. “I’ve popped my own knees back into place an embarrassing amount of times, so this should be a breeze.” He repositions himself to have better access to your leg, moving off the couch to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You attempt to pull the tight fabric of your tactical pants up enough to give him unhindered access to your knee, but it’s too restrictive, immediately causing you to wince in pain. 

“Fuck,” you huff. “I’m going to have to take these off.” You pop the button at the top of your pants and begin to push them down your thighs before insecurity can get the better of you. You try not to think about the fact that Bucky's never seen you in such little clothing - pants now pushed down to your calves, only your underwear and the bra and thin tank top you wore underneath the tactical vest that you took off as soon as you were in the safety of the getaway car left to cover you. 

Hesitation flashes across Bucky’s face for a brief moment before he scoots over slightly, moving directly in front of you so that he can position his hands on either side of your kneecap. You’re painfully aware of the polar opposite feeling of his right and left hand - his flesh hand is warm and so much softer than you’d expect, his metal one icy and smooth. You aren’t sure which causes the visible goosebumps that now litter your skin.

Maybe it’s not his touch at all. Maybe it’s the way his eyes haven’t left your thighs since you exposed them.

Maybe it’s the fact that if you parted your legs just a few inches, he’d be nestled between them. 

Chill out, you berate yourself. He's just relocating your knee for Christ's sake. 

“On the count of three,” he starts and you brace yourself. “One, two–” 

“MOTHERFUCKER.” You yell out at the same moment your knee creates a loud cracking noise that echoes off the walls of the small trailer. “You said count of three!” 

“Would that really have made it less painful?” He shrugs, but doesn't move from where his knees brush against yours. “I think what you mean to say is “thank you, Bucky, you're a lifesaver and I'm now in your debt.” 

“In your fuckin’ dreams,” you scoff. “I'm going to wash all of this blood and sweat off of me.” You move to push yourself off of the couch, tugging your pants back up as you stand. You can feel his eyes trail up your body as you do, making you feel woozy all over again. You turn away from him, heading towards the hallway that the bathroom is likely located down. 

“I could have done that through your pants, by the way.” 

You freeze mid-step, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?” You snap at him. 

“Your knee,” he clarifies, a hint of undeniable mischief in his expression. “I could have popped your knee back into place through your pants. If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so.” 

Just when you thought the safehouse was starting to cool down, your entire body heats up a thousand degrees. You're racking your brain trying to think of a retort when Bucky's ringtone starts blaring from the kitchen countertop. He ignores it, his eyes not leaving yours for what feels like an eternity. 

You finally break the silence. “That's most likely Sam wanting to make sure we're not dead. Should probably answer it.” 

“Probably should,” he smirks, and at last gets up from the coffee table to answer the phone.

You scurry the rest of the way to the bathroom before he can look back at you again, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from your ribcage and the now dull ache that spreads from your knee. 

You turn the water to cold, and don't get out until you've started to shiver. 

— — — — — 

When you exit the bathroom and step back into the connected bedroom in only a towel, you see that Bucky has done you the kindness of bringing in the bags that had been stored in the backseat of the getaway car. 

You dig through your backpack, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and pair of leggings. From the next room, you can smell the aroma of whatever non-perishable food that Bucky has scrounged together. Despite your growing hunger pains, you take your sweet time combing through your freshly rinsed hair. The thought of looking Bucky in the eye after your last interaction nearly makes you lose your appetite. 

What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn't thinking at all, otherwise I wouldn't have just pushed my fucking pants down right in front of–

“Your five course dinner is getting cold.” Bucky raps his fingers against the bedroom door, startling you from your thoughts. 

“Be right there,” you call back to him, swiping some deodorant under your arms. You take a glance at yourself in the bedroom’s small vanity mirror and immediately wish that you hadn't – you're cleaner than you were by miles, at least no longer covered in your own blood as well as the blood of HYDRA agents – but your cheekbone is lightly bruised, there's a slit on your bottom lip, and the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a month. 

You take a deep breath and then walk back to the one room that makes up the kitchen, dining area and living room. 

“Beef or shrimp ramen?” Bucky asks as you climb onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter from where he's standing. 

“Hm,” you contemplate, not meeting his stare and instead occupying yourself with another bottle of water that he's placed where you now sit. 

Fucker probably wouldn't fluster me so bad if he wasn't being so damn thoughtful.

“I'll go with shrimp,” you answer, remembering that beef is his favorite.

He slides the bowl across the counter and then hands you a fork. You finally get the nerve to look up and meet his stare that feels as if it weighs two tons. 

“So, what did Sam say?” You try to go for light conversation, twisting the fork around your noodles. “Are we free to get out of here once it's dark out?” 

“Not…quite,” he hesitates, now seeming particularly interested in his own food. “The car battery kind of died.” 

“What do you mean the car battery kind of died?” 

“While you were in the shower, I tried to move the car behind the house so that anyone driving by wouldn't immediately know that someone's here. It started fine, but as I was driving it around back it just.. stopped. Had to push it the rest of the way.” 

You let out a dramatic groan as he continues. 

“I called Sam again and he said the earliest they can send someone to get us is in the morning.” 

“Well,” you exhale, blowing a raspberry with your lips. “We can flip a coin to see who gets the bed?” You ask lightheartedly. This isn’t the first time that you and Bucky have had an overnight mission together, but it is the first overnight mission where the two of you haven’t had your own motel rooms or at least a safehouse with two beds.

He looks at you quizzically, furrowing his eyebrows. “You really think there’s a chance of me making you sleep on the couch? In your condition?” 

“My condition?” you laugh. “I’ve got a few stitches, I’m not dying of cancer.” 

“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way it’s uncomfortable for you to inhale and exhale? You’ve probably got a couple fractured ribs with the way you landed on that cement. If not fractured, then at least heavily bruised. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” 

Between his tone and the look on his face, you know it isn’t up for debate. You throw your hands up in faux surrender. 

“Serving me instant ramen and letting me take the king sized bed?” you say teasingly. “Keep it up and I'm going to think that you're soft on me.” 

His gaze on you is heavy as he takes a long sip of water from his own bottle. “Wouldn't that be a shame?” 

— — — — — 

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you lounging in bed, resting your injuries and reading some cheesy western romance novel that you found in the drawer of the bedside table. 

Bucky keeps to the living room, where you hear a violent sounding movie playing from a TV that has to be as old as you are. 

You tell yourself that you're staying in the bedroom because you need to take it easy and relax, but truthfully you feel suffocated by the tension that has been escalating between you and Bucky since you arrived here. 

A certain level of tension had always been there, you knew deep down. From the first time the two of you met almost two years ago. 

Bucky had been formally introduced to the team just a few weeks prior, and it was his first official mission. An undercover mission - just the two of you. 

Posing as an engaged couple at a party thrown at the estate of a notorious crime boss in order to obtain intel. Pretty straight forward - it was far from your first undercover mission. And then it was sprung on you at the last minute that the man who you'd only met once, less than a month ago, was to be your fiancé for the evening. 

The bastard even went as far as to slip the fake engagement ring on your finger himself. 

“Natasha picked this out. She said it needed to be a princess cut, because that's what you like.” 

You chuckled as he went to slide the rock onto your ring finger. “What? You're not going to get down on one knee?” 

The mission went shockingly smooth, you and Bucky were in and out with the needed intel in just a few hours. But those few hours replayed in the back of your mind more often than you care to admit. 

The way his arm stayed wrapped securely around your shoulder or waist the entire hour that you mingled as guests. How he pulled you into a slow dance to discuss the plan for sneaking into the study on an off-limits floor. The musky smell of his aftershave and the spearmint on his breath. 

And especially the way he referred to you as his “bride” when introducing yourselves to people, on more than one occasion throughout the night. 

“And who is this absolutely beautiful young woman on your arm?” an elderly man with eye boogers and booze on his breath asks Bucky. 

“This is my bride,” Bucky introduces you, giving him your undercover name. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Most beautiful woman here, if I do say so myself.” 

Saying that Bucky played his part well that night would have been an understatement. Saying that he played his part scarily well would be a more accurate assertion. 

After grabbing the intel and fleeing the scene, neither of you ever mentioned that mission again. Not the lingering touches, smoldering stares - not even the way he shoved you up against the wall of a corridor, cupped your face in his large hands, and kissed you senseless for half a minute when you came close to getting caught sneaking into the private office by security at the very end of the evening. 

“Do you think that was believable?” he asks nervously, his hands still clutching your face as he looks around the hallway for any lingering guards. 

“Ye-yeah,” you stutter breathily. “As believable as it possibly could be.” 

There’s a light knock on the partially open bedroom door that draws you back to the reality of the safehouse. You realize that you’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your book for the last half hour. 

"Yeah?” you answer, bringing yourself to a sitting position. 

Bucky peaks his head around the door, opening it further so that you can see what he is carrying. 

“I’m tired of watching old James Bond movies,” he sighs, glancing between you and the stack of board games in his arms. “I found these in the TV stand.” 

“I kicked your ass in Battleship last time we played,” you remind him. “Do you really want a rematch of that?” 

“How about we make a bet?”

— — — — — 

Half an hour later, you've eaten your own words, now owing Bucky a large meat lovers pizza from his favorite parlor in Brooklyn and two weeks worth of laundry duty when you return to the compound. 

“How'd you get so good?” you demand as he makes the winning attack. “You were so lame at this last time.” 

“Maybe I just let you win last time,” he shrugs with a shit-eating grin. 

You just shake your head in defeat, wincing as you stand up from where you had been playing on the shag area rug in the living room. 

“No,” you declare firmly. “No, I don't believe that. There's no way you'd willingly let me win anything. I've learned that the hard way during hand to hand combat training way too many times.”  

Bucky belly laughs from where he still sits on the floor, his gaze trailing after you. 

You walk over to where he has piled the board games on the coffee table, trying to find something you were confident you could win. 

Monopoly isn't fun with only two players, Risk takes too long — 

Your eyes lock onto a card game peeking out from underneath the Sorry! box. 

You pick it up, turning back to face him with a growing smile on your face.

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “I'm over a hundred years old–” 

“What does age have to do with truth or dare?!” You exclaim, sitting back down on the floor once more. 

“I haven't been roped into a game of truth or dare since the 1930's,” he groans. 

“Scared of what you might have to do?” You tease, unboxing the cards. “Or what you might have to admit?” 

He stares at you for a long moment, pursing his lips. The disapproval doesn't quite reach his eyes - you can tell by the way they gleam that he's going to cave. 

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits. He tousles his fingers through his hair and moves to cross his legs at the ankles. “Fine,” he relents. “One game.” 

You squeal like a kid in a candy store as you shuffle the deck of cards and lay them in a stack between you. 

“Elders first,” you motion to the pile. 

He rolls his eyes, drawing one from the top – dare. 

“Smell another player's armpit,” he deadpans. You're instantly thankful that you remembered to cram a stick of deodorant into your backpack when packing for the mission. 

“Well?” You lift up your arm. “I'm the only other player here and it's not going to sniff itself.” 

Bucky sighs, leaning across the game to put his nose directly next to the opening of your t-shirt sleeve. “Lavender,” he observes after inhaling, giving you an approving nod. “As far as dares go, I got lucky.” 

“Lucky that I showered earlier,” you mumble as you draw your turn, your cheeks warming slightly. 

Truth. 

“Who was your last kiss with and what was it like?” 

Your heart plummets to your stomach as you read the words aloud. Bucky waits impatiently as you fiddle with the piece of paper in your hands. 

“Might I remind you, you are the one who wanted to play this game so desp–” 

You hold up a finger and make a shushing sound, silencing him as he grins menacingly. 

“My last kiss was almost two years ago,” you answer honestly, looking back down at the card to avoid his stare. He can always tell when you're lying, why even try? 

“With a man I barely knew,” you continue. “We had to pretend to be in love for the evening. It was a shockingly easy thing to do. When he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me as a distraction to security guards, I had to remind myself that it was an act. We never spoke about it again. But now two years later, I'm telling him that I think of that kiss often.” 

When you finally look up, you can't decipher the look on his face. Long gone is the mischievous grin from just moments ago, in its place is.. shock? Perplexity? 

“And why exactly have you not kissed anyone else since then?” He asks quietly. 

“Nope,” you say, popping your lips on the p. “That's not how the game works, you don't get to add sub-questions.” 

His eyes don't leave yours as he draws his next card.

His turn for truth. He glances down to read his question.

“Have you ever wanted to have sex with any of the players?” 

Forget your cheeks feeling warm - your entire body feels like it's on fire as you wait for him to answer. 

He chuckles, tossing the card on top of the other two that had already been picked. 

“Every goddamn day since I kissed her almost two years ago.” 

You aren't sure which one of you snaps first. You lunge forward at the same moment that he's leaning across the splay of cards to grasp your face in his hands just like he did in that corridor two years ago. The same hint of spearmint on his breath, a bit more stubble on his jaw, and a sense of desperation that wasn't there before. 

He moves his hands to your lower back, pulling you flush against him as you both sit on your knees. Your own hands find the hem of his shirt, your fingers dancing across the skin of his waistline. 

“I asked you why you haven't kissed anyone since we last kissed,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, both of you breathless. “You don't have to answer, but that..” his mouth moves to the side of your throat where he trails open-mouth kisses across the sensitive flesh of your pulse point. 

“That's why I haven't kissed anyone else, either.” 

A pathetic, small moan escapes past your lips at his admission. In a split second decision, you take control. You place your hands across his chest, pushing him down onto the shag rug that you'd been playing games on just moments ago. He lets himself fall back, pulling you with him. 

You straddle him, positioning yourself directly on his already evident erection. You drag yourself forwards, and then backwards, desperate for friction - he groans beneath you, jutting upwards. 

The fabric of your pants between you feels like a prison. 

You scoot back a few inches - just far enough to give yourself enough room to unbutton his jeans. 

“Wait, wait,” he stops you as you're about to begin pulling down his pants and underwear. You freeze, petrified that you've crossed a line– 

“I haven't stopped thinking about having your thighs wrapped around my head since I saw them earlier,” he says as he hooks his hands around them and hauls you up to his chest. “Take these off and sit on my face.” He tugs on the waistline of your leggings. 

“If you wanted me to take my pants off for you so badly, you could have just said so,” you echo his earlier teasing. 

“I'm asking you now, sweetheart,” his voice has a strained edge to it. “Don't make me beg.” 

Though the notion of him begging has wetness pooling down your thighs, you're too eager to entertain it. 

You stand up, directly above him as he keeps his position on the floor. You shimmy your leggings down your thighs, this time completely removing them and tossing them somewhere behind you. He tugs his t-shirt over his head and throws it in the general direction of your discarded pants. 

With you still standing above him, he leans forward so that his face brushes against the inside of your thighs. He brings his hands to the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers and slowly pulling them down until they're at your ankles. 

You slip them off as he lays back down on the floor. A bit apprehensively, you sit so that your bare pussy is against his hard chest. 

“Just stop me if it's too uncomfortable or if you can't breathe or any–” 

He cuts you off by all but picking you up and hauling you up to his face.

“I wouldn't worry about that,” his voice vibrates against the flesh of your innermost thighs. He tugs you down just one more inch so that his mouth makes contact with your center. 

You gasp out in pleasure as his tongue begins exploring your folds. There's no restraint about it - he sets a brutal pace, alternating between fucking his tongue into your cunt and sucking on your clit. 

You're writhing above him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. You go to squeeze your breasts, pulling your t-shirt off when you realize it's the one clothing article you've yet to shed. 

When he realizes that you're now completely naked above him, he lets out an animalistic groan as he laps a thick lick up your center. 

The vibration, in addition to him now squeezing your ass with enough pressure that he's bound to leave behind fingertip shaped bruises, is enough to send you spiraling to your climax. 

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs around his cheeks, riding out your orgasm as he continues to wrap his lips around your throbbing clitoris. 

You go still for a moment, aside from your heaving chest, as you come back down to earth. 

You climb off of him, your jellified legs nearly causing you to collapse onto the floor next to him. 

He props himself up with one arm, looking down at you. His face is thoroughly glistening with your juices. 

You can't help but think he's never looked hotter. 

A proud grin begins to form across his features as you pull him down to you by the back of his neck. 

You kiss him with as much feverency as you can muster in your post orgasm haze, tasting the semi-sweet tang of your come on his lips and tongue. 

“It's your turn to get these off,” you demand, drawing back from the kiss to pull at the waistband of his pants. 

“Can I at least take you to the comfy bed before this goes any further?” he bargains. “You are still recovering from multiple injuries, you know.” 

“I can assure you that I've never felt better.” But you let him have his way. He stands before picking you up, lifting you so that you can wrap your legs securely around his midsection. His large hands planted firmly on your ass, he walks the short distance to the bedroom. Your nipples pebble as they press against his bare chest. 

He gently places you on top of the comforter before standing back, at last removing his jeans and boxers. His cock springs forward, slapping against his lower belly. 

Your mouth goes dry at the sight. If it had been a long time since you had been kissed, it had been even longer since you had been fucked. 

He crawls onto the bed, hovering above where you lay. You automatically open your legs to allow him between them. 

His eyes rake up and down your body, pausing on your breasts. 

"You're goddamn stunning.” 

Before you can respond, he's leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth, the sensation has you arching your back into his touch. You can feel the tip of his cock jutting against your core - teasing but not yet entering. 

He starts to line himself up at your hole, his eyes locking onto yours as he pumps himself in his hand. He brings his lips down to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth at the same moment he nudges his tip past your entrance. 

There's a blissful burn as he cautiously buries himself inside you - you're simultaneously thankful that he's going slow and needing him balls deep. He pushes in, inch by inch, until you're filled to the hilt. When he can't get any deeper, he pulls back - and slams back into you all at once. 

You swear you can feel him in your stomach. You look down at where your bodies connect, the sight of him sliding in and out of you enough to have you on the edge of climaxing again already. 

He brings his metal hand to knead your breast. 

"Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured having you under me like this?” He coos. You gyrate your hips to meet his thrusts, causing his eyes to roll back into his head. 

“How many times I've thought about what your little moans would sound like?” 

Your only answer is a gutteral moan of his name as you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into the flesh of his back. 

“Your pussy feels even more like heaven than I imagined it would.” 

His praises send you over the edge - you're coming for a second time, clenching around him as his thrusts grow messy. He fucks you through your orgasm before he loses control himself, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he spills into you. 

With you still panting and limp beneath him,  his movements gradually come to a stop but he doesn't pull out - instead he flips you to your side and maneuvers himself into a spooning position behind you. 

He peppers soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder, being careful to avoid your stitches, and relaxes beside you. 

“Remind me to dislocate my knee more often,” you joke, processing everything that just happened. 

He snorts, then tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Remind me to play truth or dare with you more often.” He captures your lips in his, this kiss slower than any of the ones before. 

“I guess it would be weird to make you do my laundry for two weeks now, huh?” He teases, earning a laugh from you.

“You do still owe me a pizza, but I'll be happy to share it with you.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

[urhoneycombwitch]

mean mouth

foreword: and if I said Eddie liked when you talked a lil' mean to him. what then. n e ways. just a little exploration of his early-day sub tendencies. I generally write Eddie as older but since this takes place in some nebulous time before s4 u can think whatever u want +18. ‘unnamed freak’ is Jacob. punk band name was not thought of by me but isn’t it great <3

cw: gn!reader w/breasts + V, oral (R receiving), unprotected PiV, soft!dom(ish) R, Eddie subbing from the top 😎, gotta-be-quiet-when-we-fuck trope my beloved

wc: 3.7k

____

The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

Eddie’s a blur of motion in the little trailer kitchen, knocking against your knees where you’re propped up on the counter (not entirely helpful but, in his words, ‘much-needed eye candy for the chef’), closing cupboards with a bang and talking animatedly over the hiss of onions cooking.

Your boy is loud, always has been, and tonight is no different- he’s crowing and cackling, recounting a particularly genius foible that he’d orchestrated during last night’s campaign, wooden spoon dipping in and out of heated pots over the stove like some crazed frizzy-haired potions master. 

“And then.” He punctuates with a jab of the spoon towards you, a long drip of spaghetti sauce narrowly missing your leg- you flinch and squeak in alarm, but Eddie just grins wildly, eager to get to the punchline. “Red rolls a natural. Fucking. Twenty.” 

“Holy shit!” Your smile is wide, natural and easy for him- Eddie’s excitement is infectious. 

“I know!” Eddie spins back to the stove, plunking the wooden spoon back into the simmering sauce before opening the oven. Heat from the broiler rises in a mouth-watering cloud of herby smell, and Eddie reaches for the metal sheet of garlic bread, still talking. “Couldn’t fuckin’ believe it. And then I- shit!”

You don’t put the pieces together until Eddie’s spinning away from the open oven, whole body moving with the force of his hand being shaken in the air- he’d touched the roiling-hot metal with his bare hand.

“Oh, shit, babe-” Sliding from the counter, you nudge the oven door closed with a foot, reaching out to assess the damage- but Eddie’s a whirlwind, jumping up and down, swinging his injured hand around in jerky movements, howling in pain.

It’s kind of freaking you out, ‘cuz you can’t tell if he’s playing up or if he’s actually got a third-degree burn. The voice that comes out of you is commanding, one that you rarely use, firm and louder than his hollering. 

“Eddie, for fuck’s sake- stand up and let me see it.”

That seems to do the trick. Eddie’s eyes snap to you, pausing mid-hop, and you take advantage of his semi-stillness to snatch his wrist and drag him towards the sink. The water runs cool and you turn his palm over in both of yours, breathing a sigh of relief when the pink welt across the bridge of his hand doesn’t have any blisters.

“Under the water,” you instruct, pushing at his silver-link braceleted wrist until he gets the memo, letting the flow from the tap ease the burn.

Eddie hisses through his teeth, and then goes quiet for the first time in ages.

There’s a few moments of this strained silence as you watch his hand carefully, color leaching back into his palm until you notice Eddie’s looking at you sideways.

Your shoulders hunch in a bit, arms crossed over your chest as you take a step back, misinterpreting his look as wounded. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just-”

“Hey, whoa, no-” Eddie’s hand automatically reaches for you, dripping water on the floor until he remembers his injury with a wince and plunges it back under the tap. “You don’t have to apologize for that. At all. Um.”

His left hand, the uninjured one, braces against the linoleum, ringed knuckles creaking as he shifts his stance. He sounds uncomfortable, and you’re about to start apologizing again until he lifts his head, eyes twinkling- “You were so bossy. It was totally hot.”

A shocked laugh burbles out of you, unsure if he’s joking or not- when he shifts his weight again, your gaze flickers down to the zipper of his dark jeans- he’s fully hard. 

“Oh my god.” Split between amusement and mortification, adrenaline from seeing him get hurt fizzing through your veins, you laugh again- this time, sardonic, into your hands, shaking your head. “Jesus christ, Eddie.”

“Can’t help it.” He’s close to whining, hips pressing flush into the cabinet, partly to relieve the ache in his groin and partly to toy with you. “Goddamn. Sound so sexy when you tell me what to do-”

There’s a teatowel hanging from a nearby rack; you snatch it up and whip it at Eddie’s shoulder, playful and irritated as you snap, “Shut up.”

“Oh, yeah, just like that, baby-” Eddie’s fake sultry voice earns him another towel-whip, this time at his neck- he squawks, ducking to avoid another blow while still keeping his hand under the water.

“Ridiculous. You’re ridiculous,” you announce with finality, slinging the towel over your shoulder and turning on your heel. “I’m gonna get the burn cream. Try not to cum or die while I’m gone.”

His bright laughter follows you all the way down the hall.

___

The next time it happens, it’s sort-of on purpose.

Eddie’s glowing with a post-show rush- a local business convention meant Corroded Coffin got to play for a nearly-packed room. Nevermind the fact that their Bruce Springsteen cover was the one bringing in the most applause; Eddie’s always been able to feed off the energy of a crowd, and tonight was a riotous success.

The Hideout is loud but your boy is louder, as per usual. There’s sweat curling the baby hairs at his temples, bright spots of flushed pink in his cheeks from the round of whiskey you’d bought the band as a congrats. 

He’s making a toast to his laughing bandmates, to beautiful you, to any nearby drunk who will listen, proclaiming his lust for life with one boot on the well-worn table in noble pose.

“And to Bev, the best of us-” Eddie tips his half-empty glass towards the nearby bar, shouting over the din of the jukebox and lively chatter, “-may your sharp-tongued wit live on!”

Bev pauses service to flip him off, and Eddie collapses back into the comfort of your arm over the booth’s top, grinning when the band trio of Jeff, Gareth, and Jacob nearly fall out of their chairs with laughter.

It’s always hot to see Eddie in his element, and tonight’s not an exception. He turns to lean into you, looking down the slope of his pretty nose like he knows why you’re staring.

A charming wink precedes, “Come here often?” but his flirting is interrupted when Jeff gets up for another round and bumps the table- whiskey sloshes over the side of Eddie’s cup and coats his hand in stickiness. 

He swears viciously, yanking out his bandanna to wipe at the mess while you laugh over the rim of your own glass at him. “Real smooth, babe. Good thing you killed it on stage, otherwise I might not take you home.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, inhaling for another cheesy line to wow you with when his gaze flicks past you and his face falls. 

Across the table, Jacob mutters, “Oh, shit,” and Gareth glowers.

Following their eyelines, you look over your shoulder to see Nico Hawley, frontrunner of Hawkin’s own punk band (the Scumshots), enter through the front door in a cloud of cigarette smoke.

When you turn back to Eddie, he’s already twisting the damp bandanna around his rings. The usual softness of his doe-brown eyes are now flint-sharp, and with a rush of panic, you remember the last time Eddie and Nico ran into each other; the night had ended with you back at the trailer, holding a cold pack to Eddie’s split lip, which he’d received from engaging in what he referred to as “friendly fisticuffs”.

There was nothing friendly about the way Eddie stood, then, to his full height, dark and imposing with his big mane of hair and leather jacket. The other Corroded boys won’t start any shit themselves, but will absolutely back Eddie up (fearless leader, resident shit-starter, instigator extraordinaire). 

Time’s running out for you to get a handle on the situation, Eddie already moving to slide past you out of the booth when you snag his left jacket sleeve in a tight grip.

The first yank you give stops him in his tracks; the second, more intentional tug gets his face level with yours, Eddie’s hardened stare giving way to confusion as you pull him into your space. 

In that same authoritative tone, you pin Eddie in place with a fistful of leather and command, low, right in his ear to be heard above the bar noise, “Don’t. Sit down and be good.”

At first, you’re not sure it worked, because Eddie’s just staring at you- slightly slack-jawed, pretty pink o mouth as his gaze flickers to your lips, back up to lock in your gaze again.

And then, by some miracle, Eddie obeys. Like a well-trained, marvelously-behaved dog. He’s back in his seat with a jolt to the booth, hand curling around his whiskey again. 

Curls spill and shift around jacketed shoulders as he shoots the rest of the glass, adam’s apple bobbing, other hand slipping to cup your thigh hidden from view. “It’s not worth it,” he announces to the rest of the group, sounding strained, staring at the bottom of his empty glass, knuckles white with force.

Jake sighs, relieved, but Gareth scoffs, tipping the neck of his beer across the table to point, goading Eddie with  “Since when have you been the one to take orders?”

“Shut up,” Eddie shoots back, blood returning and redistributing enough from where it had all rushed south, enough to defend you and himself against his drunk bandmate. “We’re already on Hop’s shit list, asshole, can’t be catching any more charges for stupid fuckin’ bar fights.”

Nico had disappeared into the throng of people at the bar while your group has been arguing- probably for the best that he’s out of eyesight. Unperturbed by Gareth’s comment (he likes you fine, he’s just grumpy from the alcohol and itching for a fight), you sip your drink and give him a shameless wink. 

Underneath the tabletop, Eddie’s palm flattens over your jeans, fingers dipping to toy with the denim seam hugging the fatty plush part of your inner thigh. You shift your hips, subtly, feeling flush with heat and power. Just a couple of words and you have him eating out of your goddamn hand. 

Jeff returns, setting a handful of beers in the middle of the table. “Saw that shitstain Hawley at the bar. What’d I miss here?”

Gareth swoops in with accusatory explanation, seizing another bottle out of Jeff’s hands. “What you missed is Eddie’s balls on a leash-”

“Jealous you don’t have someone at home to tie you up, Emerson?” Eddie’s dig comes swiftly, lips quirked in a smile around the rim of his drink. 

There’s a raucous burst of laughter, Gareth’s curly mop of hair gets ruffled playfully, and everyone eases back into celebration, all while Eddie’s thumb edges closer and closer to the apex of your thighs.

___

The next time, though? Totally on purpose.

There’s a sliver of gold from the hallway light spilling under Eddie’s closed door, left on in case Jeff or Gareth needed to use the bathroom during the night. 

And despite the fact that two of his bandmates are passed out on the couch and floor just a short walk away, Eddie’s hands are exploring the length of your body under the sheets like he’s got plans to map you with his tongue. 

“We- ah- can’t.” Your whispering scold is interrupted with a sharp gasp when Eddie nips at your neck. “No fooling around. Not when we have guests.”

His left hand drips over the swell of your breast, squeezing and kneading, your nipples perking to attention (traitors) underneath the bra you haven’t yet had the chance to take off.

Eddie adopts your quiet tone as he speaks between kisses that trail further down your body, not outright ignoring your weak protests but not doing much to combat them, either. “Mmm. Got me so worked up. Been driving me crazy since the bar, y’know that? ‘S cruel, baby, can’t just talk mean and expect me not to act on it.”

“Wasn’t mean,” you counter, hands shifting automatically to wind through the soft locks of hair tickling at your stomach as Eddie continues his path downwards. “Didn’t wanna have to patch up a split lip. Had to make you behave somehow.”

The vibrating groan Eddie gives against the soft skin of your stomach tickles; when you squirm, shushing him again, his hands slide to your hips, pinning you in place. 

Nose to your navel, warm breath fanning across the strip of skin just above the band of your panties, Eddie sounds strung-out already, close to begging. “Please, baby. I’ll be good. Make it so good for you. I’ll be quiet-”

His head snaps up at your sudden gasping laugh, chin perched on your tummy as he scoffs. “What, you don’t think I can keep quiet?”

“Eddie Munson, you couldn’t be quiet to save your life.” Your hands migrate to his cheeks, squishing them together fondly as he grins around your touch, his thumbs working circles at your bare hips. 

“Ye of little faith.” In the dim light of the room, Eddie’s teeth are a flash of white before his mouth dips to press against the wet patch at your underwear.

“Fucking… shit-!” The expletives fly out harshly, only because you weren’t expecting the wet stripe of his tongue against your clothed folds. Head dropping back to the comfort of your pillow, you get one hand in Eddie’s hair again, the other finding its way to twist at the sheets.

You can feel his smile, equal parts smug and sympathetic as he coos saccharine to your inner thigh- “Now, now, angel. Gotta be quiet.”

Not willing to lose the fight, you focus on clamping your mouth shut, eyes closed in concentration- even as Eddie slides your underwear down and off, a quick flash of blue fabric before it’s swallowed by the floor’s darkness. Even as he seals his lips over your clit, sucking hard like he’s been deprived of your taste for too long.

When his tongue breaches your entrance, a soft gasp escapes, one that has your head turning sideways to grab some pillow with your teeth. 

Eddie brings the wetness from your entrance up again, spreading it over your pulsing clit, nerve endings fizzing bright and hot in your stomach from the attention.

On instinct, your right leg kicks out, jolting with the spasm of pleasure- Eddie’s quick, though, taking advantage of the movement to find a new hold at the back of your thigh; rings biting cold, he pushes until you bend for him, your knee now pressed towards your chest.

“Gonna make it so good for you.” Eddie’s mumbling pussy-drunk rambles into your cunt that’s now on display, dragging his nose through the slick that weeps out of you, all for him- “So wet for me, angel. Fuck’s sake. This all for me?”

As if he doesn’t know. The hand that isn’t busy holding you open trails up your thigh, middle finger teasing at your entrance before slipping inside, no resistance thanks to the river of slick that rushes to greet it.

There’s a soft squelching noise as Eddie adds a second, curling them up, stroking against that tender gummy spot that always skyrockets your pulse. 

The noise is almost enough to give you pause; feeling wild and flush with heat, your hand tightens in the crown of Eddie’s hair, eyes popping open as you prop yourself up on an elbow to give a strangled hiss of warning through your teeth.

Eddie senses your unease, pulls his fingers and mouth out and off (a travesty), softening the blow by giving a placating kiss to the top of your mound. “Shhh, sweetheart. S’okay. You hear that?”

Past the noise of nighttime crickets from the nearby cracked window, past the hum of the kitchen, you hear it as Eddie crawls back up- distant, tandem snores from the boys in the living room.

“They sleep like the dead. Like rocks,” Eddie promises, settling his weight into his hands planted on either side of your head, hair creating a curtain around your faces as he leans in. “So we can get our rocks off.”

“That was awful.” You kiss him anyways. He tastes like you, earthy and warm and wet, saliva mixed with your arousal as the kiss turns sloppy.

Eddie rocks his hips forwards, the friction from the fabric of his boxers making you both gasp into each other’s mouths. He’s achingly hard, cock leaking and smearing precum through the cotton; there’s a hurried, manic shift as you both work to strip the last pieces of clothing from yourselves, his boxers and your bra following your underwear from earlier into the dark of the room.

And then Eddie is sliding his cock through the folds of your pussy, slicking up the sizable length as much as he can before the tip nudges at your entrance; Eddie’s arms tremble with effort as yours wrap around his shoulders, soothing with a kiss to his cheek- “Lotta talk about keeping quiet, Munson. That’s all it was? Just talk?”

Now that his mouth isn’t intent on making you fall apart anymore, you’ve got some breathing room to tease. To be the one to work him up. Tucking a curly lock of hair behind his ear, your fingers trace adoringly over his temple before sliding to grip the back of his neck. “Gonna prove me wrong, hotshot?”

With this new proximity, you can see Eddie’s eyes- fixed intently on yours, black pupils nearly eclipsing the soft amber of his irises. He looks slightly feral, sweat sticking his bangs in place, lips parted, spots of pink staining his cheeks. 

As if he doesn’t trust himself to speak, Eddie’s near-silent as he slides himself in to the hilt, jaw dropping as the warmth from your walls encompasses him completely.

The chained guitar pick around his neck tickles between the valley of your breasts. He pants, chest heaving, not daring to move yet; your breath stutters. You can feel him in your throat.

“So big,” you murmur, an honest reaction but one that has Eddie’s brows drawing together, a little whine escaping as his hips jerk forward, reflexive to your words.

“Fuck. Oh, fuck.” 

Eddie’s voice, strained though it may be, is on its way to regular volume. At the back of his neck, your hand flexes, a warning as he begins to rock steadily into your tight heat. 

“Gotta be good.” Biting back your own groan, you sling your leg over his waist. At this angle, you can press your heel to the dip of his lower back. “Be good and quiet for me and I’ll let you come in my p-”

His hips snap forward, audibly, subsequent wet noise obscene, filling the room. Eddie moans into the curve of your neck before your sentence is even fully formed- “Jesus, baby. Oh my god. Can’t say stuff like that, gonna come too quick-”

His cock fits along the contours of your cunt like you were made for him, ridged tip dragging against that same sensitive spot of your front wall with each pull and thrust.

Eddie’s forehead thunks into yours as he rolls it back and forth, mindlessly. All the tease has melted out of his voice: it’s been replaced with a lust-filled rasp, rock-salt and deep. 

Your voice, however, is all tease, still hushed but laced with mischief despite your mounting pleasure. “Yeah? Gonna come in my pussy?”

It’s almost not fair and you almost feel bad, seeing the way Eddie fights to make his gasp silent as the channels of your cunt clench in answer to his fucked-out expression. With his next thrust, Eddie loses the battle- a hoarse, blissful moan much too loud spills over and out into the quiet room. 

Moving quick, your hand slips from the back of Eddie’s neck to his mouth, palm flat over the plush of his lips.. The commanding tone comes easy this time (with practice, you’ll surely be a natural).

“Eddie. Be. Quiet.”

Usually, Eddie’s got stamina enough to prioritize your pleasure, making sure you’re taken care of at least twice before he even thinks of himself. Tonight, though, he’s already been straining in his jeans for hours, unbearably turned on from your earlier sharp words, pushing the limits of desperation.

Your words, once again, do the trick. Eddie’s cock pulses, and he comes hard, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your hand, chorus of whimpers successfully dampened. His dark brows knit together, eyes pinched shut, nostrils flaring with each stilted breath.

He’s so fucking hot when he comes, hair a riot around stormcloud eyes that open to take you in. Even prettier when he’s coming down, leaning into your hand for support before you take it away, guiding and encouraging him to lay down.

Eddie collapses, carefully enough that it doesn’t jostle you, but still with his full weight. The crown of his head radiates heat against your chin. 

His arms wrap solidly around your middle as he whispers (he’s learning) in croaky fragments, “Jesus fucking H. I think you just broke my brain. Smashed it into a million little pieces. Never come so hard in my life. I’m in love with you.”

The laugh you give him is quiet but golden, the rise and fall of your chest causing his head to bounce a bit (but Eddie could die happy between your breasts so he doesn’t mind). “See? It’s worth it to listen to me, sometimes.”

“You’re so smart. Gonna do whatever you say, forever and ever. Cart-blank.” And then he’s pushing up onto his elbows, keeping his face level with your left breast so he can suck your nipple into his mouth, gently worrying his teeth over the peaked bud.

Previously tangled in the sheets, your hand flies up to grab his shoulder, nails digging in. “Fuck. Fuck, Eddie. That’s good. And- ah- it’s ‘carte blanche’.” 

He leaves the comfort of your breast with a sigh. “Whatever you say, princess. Gonna let me fuck you some more? Your turn to be the loud one.”

[jadedlavendergemini]

“Babe! I’m here!” Eddie’s voice call from the front door.

You were currently in the kitchen trying to remove the cookies you were baking from the oven while at balancing your almost 12 month old daughter on your hip. “Kitchen, Eds!” You call out.

“Something smells sweet in here,” he makes his way into the kitchen, bending to face level with Olivia who grins back and then proceeds to smother her chubby face in kisses. “Oh and you made cookies! They smell good too.”

You roll your eyes at his lame joke. He doesn’t see as he raises his head back to yours and presses his lips to yours. You kiss him back and pull back.

“So where is it?”

“Sweetheart, you should really trust me more with the shopping.” He says, placing the shopping bag onto the counter.

You carry Olivia to her highchair and gently buckle her in. “Well, last time I sent you to the store for pie filling, I specifically told you Apple pie filling and you grabbed cherry.”

Eddie paused at your retelling, slowly raising his hands in defense. “All I heard was pie filling. I just assumed that it didn’t matter.”

“Of course it mattered! My dad is allergic to cherries, Eddie. You know that.”

“Okay well, most of the time I don’t fuck these things up. So are you ready to see it?”

You placed a few cheerios and sliced up fruit onto the highchair plate for your daughter and looked up at your husband who removed the small Halloween costume out from the bag and held it out the for you to see.

“Eddie what is that?” Your hands dropped to your hips when you realized what you were looking at. It certainly didn’t look like the one you had described to him before.

“It’s Liv’s costume! Just look babe! She’s gonna be the cutest, heavy metal rocker ever! I even got a little inflatable guitar!”

You really tried to hide the frustration that was clear in your features as you stared at your husband.

Taking a deep breath, you move forward a few steps towards him, who still looks excited about the costume and ignoring your look.

“Eddie,” you say, irritation clear in your voice. “That’s not the right costume. You were suppose to get her the bumble bee costume, remember?”

Eddie goes still as he tries to remember the conversation you two had from earlier this week. “Well, I thought- wait, I’m sorry why did she have to be a bumble bee exactly?”

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose with your eyes shut. “Because Nancy told me she’s dressing Becca as a lady bug and we thought it would be cute for Liv to be a bumble bee.”

Eddie scoffed. “It’s No big deal, okay? Maybe she can be a little bumble bee next year?”

“Eddie, she won’t be able to fit that costume by next year.” You argued, turning away from him and tried focus on your daughter who was happily eating her fruits and cheerios.

“Well I guess we could-.” Eddie replies, checking the small digital watch on his wrist. The store would be closing in about twenty minutes. Now he knew he would be in deep shit. “Alright let’s not panic, I have an idea.”

You look at Eddie with a questioning gaze, but before you can even get an answer out of him, he’s flown back out through the door of the trailer. Leaving you and your daughter in the kitchen.

You let out a sigh as you move to place a few more cheerios on the highchair plate. “He better come up with a brilliant idea.” Olivia just giggles in return.

A few hours pass as you and Eddie are walking hand in hand, with little Olivia tucked into your hip. The streets were filled with children running around from house to house with the challenge of collecting the most candy.

You were just thankful that she wouldn’t have to worry about all the sweets that would later cause cavities and unaffordable visits to the dentist at such a young age. You and Eddie agreed that she could have one piece, but not too much. And that would be her first Halloween treat.

You can feel your husband’s hand lightly squeezing yours as your small family continues to walk. But before you could move your head to face him, you hear his voice.

“Listen, sweetheart, you were right.” His voice low. “I should have double checked with you before buying that costume. I’m an idiot, I know.”

You just roll your eyes. “You’re not an idiot, Eds. But I really would like for you to just make a list of what you need whether it’s for the grocery store or a costume store. That way we don’t have these issues.”

The metal head just nods, understandably. “So, you’re not mad mad, right?”

You shook your head. “Not as mad as I should to be, it’s partially my fault. I could have gone out to grab the costume myself and had you watch Liv.”

The two of you were interrupted by a familiar voice. “Is that our little Miss Munson?!”

Olivia is now squealing with excitement, trying to escape your tight embrace. Slowly, you set her down on her feet and watch as she wobbles with full speed into the arms of Joyce.

Joyce and Jim decided to spend Halloween at home, handing out candy and looking forward to see their granddaughter (yes Jim and Joyce finally tied the knot!) pass by.

Joyce gathers the little “Munson Munchkin” (Jim’s nickname for his granddaughter) into her arms for a tight little embrace and pulls her gently back at arms length to inspect her costume. “What do we have here?”

“It looks like, um,” Jim was also having a hard time figuring it out. “She’s, uh, Y/N what is your daughter suppose to be?”

“Well as you can see,” Eddie chimed in. “She is a rockstar with-“

“Bumblebee wings.” You finished off. The looks they gave you weren’t what you were expecting but hey, it wasn’t negative.

“Oh,” Joyce still looks confused but still manages a smile. “So she’s a heavy metal rockstar and bumblebee hybrid?”

“Yep, that’s right.” You replied, trying not to meet you father’s confused look.

“Well she’s just the cutest!” Joyce smothers more kisses onto the toddler’s cheeks.

You look to Eddie who beams that familiar smile of triumph. That same smile that always makes you forget any argument or reminds you of just why you love him.

———————————————————————————

I would like to thank @lovelythoughtfulcupcake for reminding me about this one shot I had saved in my drafts! Hope you all like dad!eddie!

[seat-safety-switch]

In a lot of foreign countries, they have this neat amusement park ride. It's called "train," and it consists of a bunch of boxes you sit in and it takes you up and down a track. I could ride train all day long, through the incredible views of places that aren't the suburban-bordering-on-industrial wasteland that I live in.

Unfortunately for me, visiting train often requires me to get on an airplane, which is a big cylinder that flies through the sky. Despite being arguably similar to a train, it costs a whole lot more and smells kind of funny the whole time. Just not worth it, which is why I have attempted to get train at home.

Now, my local politicians dislike train. Perhaps you live in a country where your politicians are accountable to you, which is a terrifying prospect if you are a useless child of privilege who wants to spend a couple years of your life making friends with billionaires instead of being asked frightening questions about basic arithmetic. That is not the case here, where politicians are born in some sort of special vat, receive their law degrees, and come up with ideas like "what if school is actually hurting children?" We do not have many points of agreement, mostly because they drive new cars. Sometimes, they make someone else drive their car for them, which is a concept demonstrating just how sick things have become in their pointy little Hapsburg heads.

To them, there is no room for the laugh-a-minute thrill ride that is train. There is nothing amusing about the business of laying down roads that they then poorly maintain, a hyperfixation that occupies approximately ninety-six percent of their emailing-and-yelling time. Personally, I think if they really actually liked driving so much, they would put a couple hairpin turns or at least a nice high-speed chicane on my nineteen-minute drive to the grocery store, but that's a rant for another time. The government was not going to give me a train, so I had to do it for myself.

The best part of a train is that you can put a bunch of cars together, but not all of those cars have to have running and driving engines! With just a handful of purloined U-Haul® trailer hitches and a very heavy right foot, I was soon escorting seven-car public transit through the middle of downtown. Sure, if you look closely, you might argue that a bunch of welded-together Oldsmobile Aleros are not exactly up to the comfort of futuristic European rail, but we're hoping to be able to upgrade to some kind of haggard Japanese minivans in the next couple quarters, once fare revenue increases from the current value of "zero dollars." In my defence, it's not as much fun to play train-driver-guy if you're constantly asking people for money.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #7

CH7. Spice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Eddie held the door open for you as you approached the trailer, hand waving you in as he smiled, shy. 

The trailer was tidier than you’d ever seen it before, a valiant effort made in anticipation for your arrival. The usual piles of washed laundry were moved from the dining booth bench, the ashtrays moved from the living room coffee tables. The trailer was unusually quiet, smelling like mountain cedar, if the can of air freshener on Wayne’s armchair was anything to go by. 

You did your usual, despite the way you felt like you were there for the first time. For a first date. But you toed off your shoes by the door and lingered in the kitchen, fingers twisting together as you wondered what came next. This? This part was new, this was different. 

Eddie smiled shyly as he followed behind, hands skimming your shoulders as he squeezed past you and the counter, opening the fridge. The white-yellow glow filled the room, clashing with the pink sunset that came in from the living room blinds. 

“Okay, what are you feelin’?” Eddie said into the refrigerator, his fingers tapping on the door. “We got stuff for omelettes, I could do pasta, oh, hey, I make a mean gnocchi.” Eddie emerged with a quart of pesto, wiggling one of the diners' plastic containers at you. 

You smiled, shrugging easily because you’d be happy with some toast if it meant Eddie kept looking at you like that. You leaned against the dining table edge, lips pressed together and trying your hardest to keep it together. Eddie looked too pretty in the sunlight, that peachy pink golden flow, the last rays turning his brown eyes the colour of caramel as he looked at you. 

“I don’t mind,” you told him softly, “anything you make will be good.”

Eddie grinned, bashful, cheeks pink and he held his hand out to you, coaxing you into holding onto his fingers so he could tug you forward. You were supposed to look in the fridge too, check out the mountains of fresh ingredients he liked to pack into it, the tubs of homemade sauces and pickled veg. But instead, you stumbled into the boy, socked feet touching his boots, knees bumping. 

It was awkward in an innocent way, your smile shy and matching Eddie’s, his faltering a little when he realised how close you were. His hand held yours a little tighter and when he realised you weren’t moving away, well shit, he didn’t bother to either. His fingers twisted in yours, thumb running over the backs of your knuckles and he swallowed hard as he looked down at you. 

“Uh, we could, uh, I could make some lasagna. Or, or a stir fry?” Eddie stumbled over his words, brows furrowed in concentration as he studied each part of your face. The line of your nose, the fan of your lashes, the curve of your lip. “If you want. I don’t, I don’t mind cookin’ whatever.”

You felt bolder than ever when you let your hand slip from Eddie’s and climb up his forearm, finger wrapping around the cords of muscle there, thumb rubbing at the sensitive skin on the inside crook of his elbow. It made the boy still, lips parting in surprise. It felt nice to be this close, chests almost touching, Eddie’s hand falling to hold your waist instead, fingertips pushed to the soft cotton of your sundress. 

“I’m not, I’m not really all that hungry, right now,” you told him softly. You were nervous, wondering if this was supposed to happen this way. If this was supposed to happen this soon. But you couldn’t bring yourself to step away. 

The refrigerator door was still open. 

Eddie nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, sure. No, same. We can eat later, if you want.” You watched his Adam’s apple bob, felt his fingers squeeze a little tighter at the plush of your hips. “How’s your head feelin’?”

You smiled at his concern and met his gaze. This much eye contact wasn’t all that surprising but the fact you hadn’t been interrupted yet by someone yelling about hot dog bugs or asking where the napkin refills were was. “It’s fine,” you promised him. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

A lie, it was a little tender. But definitely no concussion. You’d iced it when you’d gotten home but for a shorter time than you should’ve, too preoccupied with the idea of jumping into a warm shower and shaving every inch of your leg in preparation for your date. If anything, the idea of spending time alone with Eddie was what had your head spinning. 

“Good,” Eddie nodded and you could see him thinking, too much, before he sucked in a quiet breath and lifted a hand to cup the back of your neck. His hand was big enough that it curled all the way round, his thumb tucked into the space under your ear, right along your jaw. You wondered if he could feel your pulse - he probably could. You wondered if he could feel that way it was fucking racing. “Doesn’t hurt, if I do this?”

You were scared to move, worried if you shook your head it would break the spell, scared that Eddie would stop touching you. So you whispered instead, one word on a shaky breath that made Eddie’s eyes get a little wider. “No.”

Eddie pushed his thumb to your jaw a little firmer, suddenly not as worried about touching you, holding you now like you wouldn’t shatter underneath him. “So this is okay?” He whispered back and oh my god, it was more than okay, it was exactly what you wanted and you were still in the middle of his kitchen with the refrigerator light casting over your socks, your shins. 

You licked your lips and gave a small nod, eyes trained on his mouth and you heard the boy suck in a breath. “Yeah, it’s okay.” You swallowed, throat bobbing and Eddie felt it under his hand, the movement making him dizzy. “More than okay.”

His thumb moved up, skimming over the apple of your cheek, fingers fanning out over the side of your neck until they were pushing into your hairline and pulling goosebumps from your skin. You didn’t realise you were both walking you backwards until your hips hit the counter. It was a soft bump, everything Eddie did was gentle and his eyes were watching yours the entire time, searching for any hesitation. 

It’d been a while since he’d been in a situation like this, but he was pretty fucking positive there was none there. 

You confirmed his thoughts by clinging to the front of his shirt, fingertips tugging the material so he’d take the hint and move closer, meeting his chest with yours and it was as much of a first move as you could manage. Shyness still swallowed you, your heart beating embarrassingly fast and all you wanted to do was push up onto your toes and press your lips to Eddie’s but if he rejected you now - for whatever reason - you think you’d have to quit your job and move back to Chicago. 

Your back was against the worktop edge, softened only by the way Eddie let his other hand cup your hip and your chest was against his, chin tilted up to look at him, eyes half lidded and matching his own. You could see every freckle, the fan of his lashes, a tiny silver scar on the left corner of his bottom lip that you’d never noticed before. You wondered if he was close enough to feel the heat from your face, the way your bones must’ve been rattling from the thunder of your heartbeat. 

It was delicious, the way he crowded you, thumb pushing into your cheek so you’d tilt your head up for him, noses almost brushing now, just waiting for something to give. It had been two months of working alongside Eddie Munson, two months of being his friend, learning how he worked, what each of his smiles meant, how lucky you were to receive one. 

Two months of wondering how much longer it would take until he would kiss you. 

He licked his bottom lip, tongue peeking out just slightly, eyes studying every move you made, so hesitate, so unsure, as if the way you were pressing yourself against him wasn’t enough of a clue. “We could, uh,” Eddie cleared his throat, nervous. His hand was squeezing the dough of your hip over your dress, the soft material bunching in his palm. “We could watch a movie, if you wanted.”

He said it so distractedly that you were sure the boy didn’t actually know what he was asking. Eddie’s pupils were blown wide, eyes dark, a familiar sight except there wasn’t the haze of smoke between you both now. You smiled, nervous and shy and giddy and brave all at once. 

“I don’t wanna watch a movie, Eddie,” you breathed and out and the boy folded, the boy melted like butter under the hot sun and you saw his brows draw together, his tense shoulders fall in relief and then he was nodding, eyes on your mouth and moving closer and closer—

“Oh, thank fuck,” he sighed in return, pushing into you in a rush, his lips crashing to yours before he even finished talking. 

 It felt like kismet, that first kiss. It felt like it was supposed to happen, because after your heart soared and your stomach somersaulted, Eddie moved his head one way and tilted yours the other, drawing him closer still with your fingers hooked into the collar of his T-shirt. He made the softest noise, nose pushed to your cheek, his thumb dragging over the corner of your mouth and when you gasped for him, his tongue touched your bottom lip, a silent question. 

More?

You parted your lips for him, kiss deepening, Eddie’s hand on your waist gripping you tighter as your tongue licked over his and you couldn’t remember when kissing someone felt like this. It felt like a summer heatwave, like someone taking care of you, it felt like a bowl of the most perfect food pushed in front of you, like cracking your fucking head off a table and watching the world spin. 

There wasn’t any noise in the trailer except for the hum of the still open fridge door and the soft, breathy sounds from both of you. A sigh, a gasp, a muted groan. It was easy to get caught up in it, no one to interrupt, a whole evening, just for you two. It was a long time coming, a simmering pot, finally bubbling over and when you let out a little moan when Eddie’s hand trailed from your jaw down to your neck, fingers splayed over your throat, the boy pulled back to pant heavily and swear. 

Any shyness you’d ever felt was gone with the way he was looking at you, curls falling across flushed cheeks, lips swollen and probably a matching yours. You reached for him, desperate, your hands tangling into his hair as you tried not to pout. “Don’t stop. Please, Eddie,” you whispered and your voice cracked with need and god, it made Eddie’s eyes stutter shut, jaw dropping before tensing. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he was whispering, moving back to you with an eagerness that was almost overwhelming. 

You thought he was going to kiss you again, but he ducked just slightly and you squeaked when you felt his palms, warm and calloused and so fucking big, wrap around the backs of your thighs. He hauled you up, setting you on the edge of the kitchen counter so you were at his height and both of you ignored the angry squeal of the coffee container, the bread bin and mug stand as your body pushed them out of the way. A new pace was set now and Eddie’s mouth was back on yours before you could ask. 

A desperate, messy kind of kiss, deep and longing and all tongues and teeth. The boy nipped at your bottom lip, groaned when you whined and you didn’t even think twice about bringing your legs up to his hips, caging him in and pulling him against you until you felt the scratch of denim again the cotton of your underwear. 

It should’ve been too much too fast, it should’ve. 

But it wasn’t. 

“This okay?” Eddie asked you breathlessly, words gasped between kisses. He pulled back just slightly, hands cupping your hot cheeks, thumbs soothing over the apples of them. His forehead pressed against yours, a grounding touch. “We don’t have to— just tell me if you wanna stop, yeah?”

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut because you were already pulling him back to you and Eddie followed willingly, one hand dropping to your knee, coasting upupup until he was squeezing at the dough of your thigh and groaning into your open mouth. You felt like a couple of teenagers, making out somewhere you weren’t supposed to, getting felt up by your crush in his parents kitchen. It made you dizzy, it made you wet, embarrassingly so. A dirty, hot throb that wrecked your body and lit up, electric, every time Eddie touched you somewhere new. 

He didn’t go any higher, his hand stayed there, respectful as he could be when you were kissing him like you didn’t ever want to stop. A few inches below the hem of your dress, practically a gentleman, but his tongue was doing wonderful things against yours and when you rocked yourself a little, using your arms around his neck to press yourself against him, Eddie’s own hips canted forward and he moaned.  

It made it easier to drop his other hand from your neck, fingertips skimming just along the curve of your breast before he was dripping your waist and pulling you into him. It wasn’t the best place to be grinding against each other, not when the sofa and his bed were both so close by. But the height of the counter made for the perfect kind of friction and it was dizzying being so close, to be so wrapped up in Eddie. He smelled the same, like lemongrass and smoke and a little bit of cologne. 

And when you gripped his curls a little tighter than before and tugged, Eddie fucking whined into your open mouth, barely kissing, just panting into each other's lips and his gentlemanly touch on you wavered. His hand skirted up, fingers sliding under the hem of your red dress and when they skimmed over the elastic edge of your underwear, he was swearing, eyes squeezing shut tighter and raking his blunt nails back down your thigh.

You shuddered, ripping away from Eddie’s lips to suck in a breath but the boy only moved to your neck and you keened at the touch, opened mouth kisses along the line of your throat, his tongue peeking out to lick across your skin, teeth grazing and fiu let him, head thrown back until the already tender spot hir against the kitchen cabinets. 

It didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. 

Not when Eddie was dragging his fingers across the neckline of your dress, pushing your sleeve out of the way to expose your shoulders, kissing and sucking at the crook of your neck, mouthing his way down your chest, no bra straps to get in his way. You sighed, the sound coming out with the letters of his name, a noise that made him groan aloud and fuse his lips back to yours, your fingers splayed out over his jaw so you could keep him there. 

You were on fire. It was hotter than being in the kitchen. The simmering pot was spilling over now, the flames were licking higher and the lid of it was crashing to the floor, jolting you back to reality. 

You pulled back, sucking in air, eyes unfocused and the world was spinning too fast and god you just needed to—   

“We should slow down,” Eddie gasped, sounding as wrecked as you felt. His hands were still on you, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, two hands smoothing up and down your thighs. “Fuck, you’re— that was—”

“Yeah,” you agreed and god you sounded drunk. “I know.”

You tried to diffuse the heat, tried to turn down the flame so everything went back down to a simmer, smiling softly as if the kitchen was on metaphorical fire and Eddie wasn’t harder than he’d ever been in his life. “Umm, do you, d’you wanna eat now?”

Eddie laughed into your neck, cheeks flushed rosy pink and he was hot all over, breathless and the happiest he’d been in a long time. He hummed, nodding before he pulled back, dotting a kiss to your lips, much more chaste than before. He couldn’t help himself, placed another on your cheek, your jaw, the slope of you nose too. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he grinned. “How does a grilled cheese sound?”

You laughed too, nodding, because you didn’t think you’d be able to focus on chopping up ingredients or kneading out a dough right now either. “You gonna make it real fancy for me?” 

Eddie beamed, brows scrunched together in disbelief, like he was shocked you had to even ask. “What? Sweetheart, please,” he pushed one last kiss to your lips, grimaced at the open fridge door and kicked it shut witn his foot. “S’gonna be the fanciest grilled cheese you’ve ever had.”

—————

“You have a hickey,” Robin poked at your neck, stating the news very matter of factly as she leaned in between the drivers seat and yours. 

You batted at her hand, eyes wide, cheeks hot as you leaned back to glare at her. “What? No I don’t.”

Steve snorted and pulled into the diner parking lot, joining Eddie’s van and the other few cars that were waiting for a late breakfast. “Wow, that sounded so believable,” he deadpanned. “Enjoy your hot date with the chef last night?”

The day after your dinner with Eddie only egged on your good mood. A bright day, with blue skies and warm air, the kind of Sunday morning that was straight out of a photograph, big white clouds, sunflower fields in the distance, the smell of coffee and waffles coming from the diner doors. 

Eddie had dropped you back at your apartment late, later then he should’ve when he was starting work at six am the next day but you’d stayed to eat grilled cheeses on the sofa with him, pretending to watch some B-roll horror movie as you talked about everything and nothing, legs draped over his lap. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to say but your words got tangled in a grin and they came out too happy, making Steve’s eyes roll as he climbed out of the car. 

“You’re a fuckin’ awful liar,” he told you over the roof and Robin snorted in agreement, bending down to peer at her reflection in Steve’s window. She snapped her gum, baby pink against rose coloured lip balm and flipped Steve off when he popped her bubble. “And we’re all late, ‘cause someone couldn’t find their keys, c’mon.”

It felt like a proper friendship, the way you walked around the side of the diner with Steve and Robin, jostling each other and laughing when they took it too far, the girl shrieking when Steve pulled her into a headlock, encouraging you with a grin to give her a noogie. And the laughter bled into the kitchen when you all stumbled into the fire exit door reserved for staff, smoke breaks and crying sessions in the alleyway. But the laughter stopped when you caught sight of Eddie at his station, whisking a bowl of egg yolks and butter, exactly like you expected him to be at eleven am on a sunday. 

You didn’t expect the girl, though. Or recognise her.

Strawberry blonde and petite, her uniform shorter than yours, her elbows leaning on Eddie’s station as she beamed up at him. She was pretty. Really pretty.

She turned at the noise of the three of you coming into the kitchen, laughter still on Steve’s lips, a faux argument brewing between him and Robin as they tailed off towards the lockers. You stayed standing, a little shocked. You weren’t sure why, you knew there was staff you hadn’t met before, seasonal members of the diner who split their time between Jim’s and other jobs. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. 

She was just— standing too close to the boy you spent the night making out with. 

Eddie had put down the bowl and whisk, cleaned his hands on the front of his apron and smiled at you,  his face lighting up at the sight, a genuine slice of joy in what was about to be an awkward moment. He said your name, almost shy, looking like he didn’t know how to greet you. 

“This is, uh, this is—” he gestured to the girl, trailing off when she bounced over to you, hand extended. 

“I’m Chrissy, it’s so nice to meet you,” she gushed. “You’re new, right?”

“Uh, kinda,” you laughed a little weakly. You didn’t feel new anymore. You felt like you belonged. You told her your name, even though she’d already heard Eddie say it. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

No one else really knew what to say then and your plans to greet Eddie with a kiss seemed ruined. The boy looked at you as if he were thinking the same, his smile lopsided and sweet. But he dished the eggs into a pot and started scrambling them, brushing away a stray curl with the back of his hand and he asked you, “have you had breakfast?”

You rolled your eyes, affection lingering there and you relaxed a little, knowing this routine, loving this routine. You grabbed your apron from the hook, tying it round your waist as you brushed past him, a hand skimming his lower back, the closest thing you could do to a greeting. 

Chrissy tracked the movement with curious eyes. 

“Not yet,” you told him softly and you ached to perch yourself on the stool by his station - your stool - but Chrissy had already walked back over and claimed it. “You gonna tell me off?”

You said it shyly, a hint of flirt there, cheeks warm and smile soft as you gazed up at the boy. Eddie responded in kind, the tips of his ears turning pink and he tried to scowl at you, brows pinching together but he grinned like he couldn’t help it. “I would, if I knew it would work,” he smiled down at you, head tilted to the side all lazy. “You want some eggs? Or I could make you some pancakes?”

And before you could tell him that eggs were perfectly fine, Chrissy’s voice interrupted, she was pushing herself onto the table, leaning on her hands, cheeks coloured with a pretty pink blush and squished together. “Don’t tell me I leave for the summer and you’ve got another favourite waitress already,” she pouted, lips shiny and glassy and pink. “I thought I was your number one, Ed.”

Her words made you feel too warm. That rolling heat that creeped across your chest, your neck, your face. An awfully uncomfortable sensation, anxious, unsettled. You tried to laugh when she did, but the sound came out weak, stilted. Chrissy was looking at Eddie, confident, playful, so sure of herself. 

She looked at him like she really knew him, like there was an inside joke that you didn’t know about. 

You backed away, ignoring how Eddie’s hand tried to catch yours. “Uh, I’m actually not that hungry,” you smiled but it wavered. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. “Thanks though. I’ll, um, I’ll catch up with you later. It was nice meeting you, Chrissy,” you nodded at her, hoping she didn’t see your glassy eyes before you turned and left them in the kitchen. 

[caxde]

bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, you meet his friends, and go on a date to figure this out, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (4.4k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n: thank you guys for the support, i think that for a while i'll just do drabbles of this story if requested so enjoy! part1 part2. part4 (they can be read seperatly)

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Both the phrase and your customer service voice came as second nature by now. Practice makes perfect you once heard. 

“Hi, yeah… Um, do we know what they want?” The tall boy with floppy hair asked the girl following him, she agreed with a smile and he looked back at you. His face looked familiar, though you had never seen him come here before. “I’d like milk coffee, and uh.. what do you want?” He asked back at the girl, who had been grinning with a smirk that you weren’t quite sure if it was dedicated to you, or it was just a nervous reflex from her. 

“I’ll have an iced tea, and a cinnamon bun.” She waited for you to write it down, before she continued, which you’d never admit out loud how frustrating it was, if they knew they were going to order more. “And uh, a large black coffee, with no sweetener and a chocolate milkshake with a… did she like scones or blueberry muffins?” She turned around to the wild haired boy, who had its eyes lost in the horizon. Something in you told you he was trying not to stare, and if you were being honest, you didn't know if that was a compliment or not. 

“Muffin.” He muttered, as he scratched his closed eyes. 

“Muffin.” She affirmed with a cheery tone. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” 

You placed the order under your waitress number. Lucky number 17, even if there only were two of you. You prepped the coffees with your usual care, enjoying both the process and the smell that filled the air. Two small plates with a paper napkin under each pastry. You wrote down where they were seated while you waited for the milkshake and the iced tea. You still didn’t dare to make them. You had tried, you just never managed the right balance between ice cream, milk and cocoa powder. You did have fun however with the whipped cream and the chocolate shavings. Mainly because it was an excuse for you to eat the chocolate that you didn’t grate. 

The bell above the door rang and your attention turned to it. A wide smile appeared on your previously concentrated face. 

It wasn’t strange considering Lua was running down the small entrance corridor so she could meet you, your body already kneeling down at the floor so she could greet you however she decided to. 

“Hi dude! I didn’t know you were coming” Your voice got high in unexpected excitement as she hugged you in her particular way. “How are you doing?” 

“Happy.” She beamed, her hand hiding her face in her usual shy manner she always had when she was someplace that wasn’t as familiar to her. 

“I hope you are, you’re getting a milkshake.” Eddie followed her closely behind, offering his hand for her to take it, she did as soon as she heard the word milkshake. Jumping a bit, knowing that that was an unusual treat. 

It clicked in that moment, where you knew that boy from. He was in a lot of the photos Eddie had laying around, some were in frames, some were laying around his coffee table. 

Though you knew him as uncle Stevie, you doubted that was his name. And if that really was uncle Stevie, then the girl had to be auntie Rob. It would explain the weird energy they had while ordering, and the grins that they tried to hide. 

“Chocolate?” She asked back, her head moved around the both of you, she had to look up now, both of you doing what you didn’t realise you always did. While your feet stayed separated, your bodies always found a way to get closer, your waist pushed forward, his arms did too. 

“And a blueberry muffin.” You added, with glee. The contrast between the excitement coming from Lua and the exhausting anticipation coming off from Eddie was comical. He grabbed the skin between his eyes, knowing that this sugar rush was going to tire him out. 

“She’s not gonna eat dinner.” He adds, in a somehow frustrated mumble, as he looks back up at you. “And Wayne made Spaghetti with tomato sauce… And garlic bread…” He was making that exaggerated whining voice he knew made you laugh. 

“I can have the leftovers.” He smiled, even if he knew that that was what he originally wanted. Another quiet night with you, Wayne out at work and an exhausted Lua, the promise of some alone time with you. 

“Deal.” He tried to mask his excitement, with his usual grin, the upside down smile that curved to the right, where his dimple was, and you just giggled back at him, with a scoff and a playful roll of your eyes. 

“Your friends are over there, I’ll bring your stuff in a minute.” He winked as a form to say thank you, he swung his arms so his and Lua’s hands moved in a way that made her smile, as she squirmed as soon as she saw his friends. 

“Stevie!” She screamed in midst of laughter, she waved him hi, as she walked to Robin’s feet. 

“Hey Lua.” Robin’s enthusiastic way of calling her name won her a high five, which she used to tease Steve. “I got a high five.” She sang her works in a mocking manner, knowing that Stevie would push her shoulder with his, she ducked a bit, the playful manner making Eddie smile. 

“Hello to you too.” Eddie teased back, sitting down on a chair, helping Lua get up to the one next to him. He had forgotten to ask you for a booster, but nodded in an attempt to say thank you as he saw you approaching the table, milkshake in one hand, booster in the other. 

“I’ll be right back with the rest of your order.” Your customer service voice becomes a bit more informal everytime you lock eyes with him, the stupid pink flush coming to your cheeks as he just smiled, his friends looking at him with a cheeky grin. 

“Is that her?” Robin wasted no time, her hands on the table, and body pushed a bit too forward. 

“Jesus! We said we were gonna be subtle.” Steve pushed her back into the chair, the softness of his gesture contradicted his harsh inane tone. 

“What? She can be the rude one…” 

“C’mon Eddie wouldn’t fall for the rude waiter.” 

You heard that, and you weren’t sure what to believe. Were you the rude waiter? Did Eddie actually fall for you? And what does that even mean? You decide to act as if you hadn’t noticed, as if it didn’t really matter. You placed everything in front of who asked for it, but that comment was still on the front of your mind. You didn’t think you had been that rude, it was your eight hour of work, and you were leaving soon so you were exhausted, and maybe that had come out as rude, but still, it kind of hurts knowing that someone might think you are. Even worse if that someone is the best friend of the guy you had a stupid crush on. 

Then there was the whole fall issue. Had that been just a poor choice of words? Probably. It had to be, because there was no way that Eddie had fallen, not really. Not in the scary four letter feelings. It was soon, way too soon. You hadn't even had an opportunity to go on that date that he had asked you on three weeks ago. 

You were decidedly panicking, fidgeting with the blue pen you used to take orders. Your shift came to an end, and even if Eddie kept looking at you, waiting for you to come so he could actually introduce you to his friends, or alternatively he was trying to find a moment where he could stand up and go ask you if you wanted to meet them, he looked back and you weren’t there this time. 

You were having a stress relief smoke that you’ll never admit to once he inevitably asks you about. You can’t think about it, you want to go home, have a shower and stop thinking. 

So you did. 

-

Eddie was worried about you, but he was a little too preoccupied with the little tornado in front of him. The sugar rush had hit as soon as he stepped into the trailer. She had been playing “the floor is lava”, placing everything and anything on her way so she wouldn’t actually fall. Once she got tired of it, she started playing house with dolls and teddys she had, now scattered around everywhere. She eventually got tired of that and just danced around to music that for once he could choose, until she passed out, the sugar crush came as fast as the rush had. 

Quiet for once, Eddie let out a long exhausted breath, before picking her up. He enjoyed picking her up, knowing that the day would come when he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. She was already with her stolen sleepshirt that she begged to put on as soon as they had arrived. So he put her hair up in a small ponytail, and left her to rest on her small bed, in the same room as he slept. 

Someday, when he has more money,  more security in himself, he would get a nice place. A house with an extra room so someone can come and sleepover. A house that had their own garden, so she can run around without Eddie having to watch over her anxiously, worried that she somehow stumbled over into the woods, or found trash that didn’t belong in a play area for such a small girl. 

That was the goal. 

The long term one anyway. Right now he focused on cleaning the mess her little sunshine had made. His hair out of the way, he quietly got into it. The cushions, blankets and -previously- folded laundry was out of the way, the toys were sorted, and the remains of her laughter could still be felt on the walls. 

Something was missing. And  that was you. And the promise that you had made to come over and have dinner. 

So the worrying came back. 

Doubt invaded his mind. He didn’t want to bother you, maybe you just forgot. Maybe you had fallen asleep. Maybe you had had enough of him. 

But for once, he decided to trust his intuition, and if something deep in his gut told him that it wasn’t okay, he trusted it. He had to. 

So he checked that Lua was still sleeping soundly, and he rushed to your door. The frown between his eyebrows appeared once again when he realised that your light wasn’t on. He knocked, slowly, not even realising that he was biting his lower lip, or that he was playing with his rings. 

The light didn’t come on, but you did. 

The faintest trace of runned down mascara was under your eyes. If that didn’t give away the fact you had been crying a bit, your red runny nose did. 

A wave of guilt filled him, though he wasn’t sure why or what to do.

Truth be told, it wasn’t his fault, not really. You just had a tendency to overthink it all. And a weakness for words of people you didn’t know. 

the mean one had followed you since you had gotten home. It was stupid, and definitely not that big of a deal, but it had bugged you enough that you had a breakdown nonetheless. 

Maybe it was just one more thing that had sent you over the edge, that coupled with the fact that you had your insecurities over not feeling enough for him, or his little girl. 

“What happened?” His voice came out softer, lower, imploring for an answer. 

“Nothing, long day.” Eddie could tell that you were lying through your teeth. And you knew that he knew by the way his body reacted. Arms crossed through his chest in a self-defense movement he still conserved. 

“I’m gonna heat up dinner. If you want some you can come.” You couldn’t decode if his tone was regretful or resentful, but his eyes shined with hope that’d you’d come, so you nodded. 

“Give me a second?” He mouthed a muted yeah, as he turned around, his feet skipping the ground in a nervous manner. 

Maybe they didn’t mean for you to hear it. Maybe it had been a joke that you had the misfortune to hear. But it still stings, so you switch your uniform for something comfier. 

Those jean were barely hanging on by a threat, the seam on the inside of your thighs had started to open in some points, and they didn’t fit you as snuggly as they once did, but they were the comfiest they have ever been, and the most comforting ones -oddly enough- so was the black shirt that had been previously splattered with bleach. It didn’t really matter to Eddie, he still thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. 

He was trying not to show his worry, but he wasn’t that good at it. He was  quiet, which he never was, and he couldn’t stop playing with his rings. 

He sat down on the stool, right in front of you, the kitchen aisle separating you both. 

“Okay look...” You broke the silence. His fork clinging on the cold surface makes your attention shift into it. “I had a little cry over some stupid shit, but I’m fine.” You take a sip out of your water, looking back into his questioning eyes. 

“You want to talk about it?” Eddie tries to get more information out of you. His expression softer, caring deeply for you. 

“It’s stupid. Honestly.” You try to brush it off, playing with your food in a lazy manner with your fork, avoiding his stare. Because you know that if you do look at him, you’d crumble. 

“I don’t care, I like listening to you.” His voice was deeper when he was mid bite, but his world made you fold, and you give in. 

“I overheard your friends…” You think he might say something, but he just stays quiet, an embarrassed expression on his face. “They said that you fell for ‘the mean one’” You add, drawing air quotes with your fork still in your hand. 

“Jesus…” He added in disbelief. His head was buried in the palm of his hands. 

“I know it’s dumb I just… I told you I don’t know how to go around this whole thing and your friends saying that it's just-” He cut you off, even if he didn’t mean to, he knew you were rumbling when it was all a misunderstanding. 

“It’s not dumb it’s just… They weren’t talking about you.” Your eyes widened in embarrassed shame. “They were saying that they were glad I didn’t fall for the mean one. They’re happy I have a thing for you, and not Brittany.” 

“oh” 

“Yeah, they like you. I think. And we met up in the café because they wouldn’t agree to babysit Lua so I can go on a date with you if they didn’t meet you first but I didn’t wanna make it a big deal so…” 

“oh” 

“Yeah…” 

The type of silence had changed. He had that dumbfounded, love-sick smile on his face. Your eyes were shining and your cheeks had become red. His hand was caressing yours, the soft touch invading you with a sense of calmness and warmness. Your lips curled upwards, some of your teeth showing. 

“So we’re going on a date?” 

“Next Friday, if that works for you.” 

“It does.” 

“Good.” Amusement clear on his tone, his dimples showing as he went back to eating. His hand not letting go of yours. “Now, finish eating.” 

“I will, but I need my hand.” He chuckled with you as he slowly pulled away. 

“Okay, sorry.” 

“Idiot…” You sentenced before going back to eating. His amusement makes you smile deeper. 

“Suddup, you like it.” 

-

For once, Eddie let you help clean up in the kitchen. 

After the conversation and the quiet dinner it was hard trying to keep away from him. It felt like magnetism. 

And he couldn’t keep resisting you for that long. You were cleaning the dishes, whilst he dried them. His waist bumped into yours every so often with the excuse of dancing to the low music, not wanting to wake Lua up. 

“This has to be Led’s best song” He mumbled, watching as you silently mouthed the lyrics. 

“Their most popular, maybe… Best one? No way.” You shook your head in disbelief that he would say such a thing, hearing him chuckle at your reaction. 

“What do you mean? It’s literally rock history! Jimmy Page’s solo has become one of the most famous ones” He tried to fight back with you, as you continued to smile in disagreement. You stopped the water, looking him dead in the eyes, seeing the way his smile only grew fonder, his usual grin present in his face. 

“Sure, Stairway to Heaven had like a huge cultural impact and blablabla but c’mon… Dazed and Confused? Immigrant Song? Black Dog? Tangerine? You Shook Me? You want to talk about guitar solos… Achilles Last Stand has some of the most incredible ones” You argued back, he was impressed, but he was not used to losing, even less so when it came to music. 

“Achilles Last Stand is a ten minute song, that’s too long…” You chuckled at that, his eyebrows raising as he looked deep into your half closed eyes from your laughter. “What?” 

“If you think ten minutes is too much… We’re gonna have a problem.” 

He laughed in deep shock from your words, making you giggle a bit more as a reaction. He didn’t think about what he was doing, he just had an impulse and followed through. His arms wrapped around you, pushing you in for a deep hug, your head hitting his chest, as your arms find a way in his waist. 

Eddie gave the best hugs, you thought. This being your first one, you were over observant. His fingers were buried deep in your hair, playing with it. His chest was softer than you had expected. And even if his house smelt of sandalwood and the faint smell of the food you had just eaten, he smelt of aftershave, shampoo and a trace of car grease. You closed your eyes, enjoying it all. 

Eddie couldn’t resist the urge to kiss the top of your head. Or let his forehead rest on yours, enjoying the closeness he got to experience. He hadn’t been this close to anyone since before Lua came around. And he wasn’t used to this nervousness or excitement, this electricity with the way your breath mixed with his. 

You pulled away a bit, close enough to still count his eyelashes if you wanted to, far away enough that nothing else could happen. You had to be careful, you had agreed to be careful until you could figure it out. 

“Moon I…” 

“I know.” He whispered back, his left hand cupping your cheek, his thumb caressing it slowly. 

You heard the small steps coming from Eddie’s room, Lua had woken up and was looking for him. 

“Dada?” She sounded half asleep, with a small panic in her voice. 

“Coming.” He added, a frustrated look on his face, his tone remaining calm. He kissed your hand before stepping back. “Duty calls. See you friday?” 

“Yes, tell Lua I said goodnight? You asked back, finding your way to the front door. 

“Definitely. Sweet dreams princes.” 

“Night, moon.” 

You closed his trailer door as you saw him walking the corridor where his room was, the little night light giving you a little inside to what his room and his usual  nights looked like. 

You went to bed that night with a lovesick smile on your lips and hoping that Friday came soon enough. 

-

Friday came faster than both of you had anticipated. You got the whole day to yourself, the morning was slow, and Eddie let you sleep for once, they didn’t come over for breakfast. You wouldn’t admit it, but you had missed them, and Lua’s happy mumbling as she ate whatever you had made. Since it was only you, the bowl of cereal had lasted you until lunch, you just picked at it every time you felt hungry, amidst various house chores. 

Clothes were cleaned. 

Floors were mopped. 

Bathroom was shining. 

With a clean bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror. It had been two months since you met him, and your smile lines had come back. Your hair had become lighter from the sun, and your eyes shone again. You felt pretty, and you couldn’t wipe the lovesick smile out of your lips if you thought of him. 

The water was hot, and it helped your body relax. You were starting to get that nervous excitement, before a date. A date with someone you actually (really) like. 

When the time came, you crossed the road, knocking gently on his door, your hands playing with the hem of your dress. 

Eddie got choked up as soon as he saw you. The black dress hugged you in a way he wished he could, your legs looked longer and he could get lost in them, even if they were hidden under black tights. But he really got lost in your lips, and the red that you layered over them. 

“Hi.” Your voice came out shyer that you intended to. But your smile remained the same. 

“Hi…” He couldn’t really form a sentence, his words seemed to be stucked in his throat. “You look amazing, jesus…”

“I could say the same.” He shook his head in disbelief, not really believing you. 

He stood there in his usual white shirt and leather jacket, though this time his washed out jeans switched for black jeans that hugged his thighs in a way that made your head swing. 

“I uh… I’m going to say bye to Lua, then we can leave.” You nodded, and peered inside for a moment. 

Lua was playing on his living room floor, Robin and Steve by her side. He kissed her daughter’s cheek and whispered something that you didn’t catch, his friends waved at you, Robin mouthed a silent wow as she gave you a thumbs up that made you giggle on the inside. 

-

The dinner was finished, and you had downed a couple bottles of wine. You ended up walking for a bit, before deciding to put an end to the night, the stars shining bright. 

Eddie had done everything right. He had paid the bill, he opened the doors for you and made an effort to get to know you better. His eyes shining with every word that came out of your lips. He was definitely enamored by you, and the same could be said by you. His hand had not let go of yours since you had left the small restaurant. 

His thumb played with the back of your hand, sending sparks through your whole body. You played with his rings, which only made him smile more. He told you that it was the only thing he ever bought for himself. Every year when his age changed, he’d get a new one. “Maybe you’ll get me one” You had teased back, which made him chuckle as he nodded. 

His van parked behind his house, his fingers still intertwined with yours. You sat on the back of it for a while, looking at the sky in comfortable silence for a bit. 

Eddie’s heart was racing, he couldn’t look at anything but you. You and the way your skin looked under the moonlight, you and the way your eyes looked at the moon. You and your red lips that he really wanted to taste. 

You noticed. 

Your head left his shoulder, so you could look at him. His breathing mixes with yours, your chest moving faster as your breathing quickened. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his trembling hand came up to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing your lower lip, asking for permission. 

You were the one to break the distance. 

In a swift movement, your lips pressed against his. Your heart felt at peace once you did. As if something had finally clicked, something was finally right. He smiled through the kiss as it grew deeper. He kissed you as if you were air and he was drowning. He had been dreaming of this since the moment he first saw you. And he finally got to kiss you, as much as he desired to. 

Before pulling away, his teeth caught your lower lip. He was smiling like an idiot, his nose touching yours. 

“We should…” You tried to be the voice of reason, knowing that you both had work tomorrow and he had someone to take care of on top of that. 

“I know I just… I’ve been waiting for this for a while.” He admitted with glee before kissing you again, giggling in between kisses. His hand getting lost in your hair. 

“I know.” It didn’t help that your tone came out in a more intimate matter that you intended to, the wine working its magic for the both of you. 

“Do you wanna talk about it tomorrow?” He offered, thinking that you would need time to think things over. 

“There’s nothing to think.” You admitted, determination in your voice. “This makes sense. If you’re okay with it I… We could try it? Maybe?” 

Eddie couldn’t contain his happiness, kissing you senseless until his breath ran out. 

“You’re sure?” 

“Positive.”

“I can call you my girlfriend and everything?” He teased, a stupid grin on his face that drove you crazy, your head shaking as your smile gre big enough that your teeth showed. 

“Girlfriend and everything.” You confirmed. 

This time you were the one kissing him, your hands lost in his hair, pulling him in a bit more than he had dared to. 

He walked you to your door even if nothing could happen to you, and kissed you goodnight for the first time. And his friends teased him and celebrated with him when he walked in with red lipstick on his lips. 

He went to bed that night, knowing that things could only get better from now on.

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

-

requests! are open

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part 3 is up, thank for the support dudes <3

[authorred]

Frostbitten | Li Shen/Zayne x reader | Love and Deepspace

➺ Preface: Taking a trip with Zayne up to the snowy mountains was something you were looking forward to. Spending time with him and taking a break from your busy schedules are what you both need. But halfway through your trip, the aether core in your heart acts up, and your weakened heart begins to give.

➺ I was inspired by the one scene in Zayne's branched route trailer where he runs up to MC and carries her when she collapses TEEHEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE IT'S SO HOT SEEING MEN WORRY LIKE THAT HOOOYYY MMMMYYYYY GAAAWWWOOUUURRRDDDDDD

Warning(s): As angsty as I can make it. You almost die, good luck

As you step off of the train and onto the slightly snowy platform, you stretch your limbs and take in a deep breath. “Ah, finally,” you sigh in relief. “It’s no fun being cramped in a booth seat for three hours with nothing to do.”

Zayne comes up behind you wordlessly, carrying the few bags you brought with you on the trip. “Impatient as always,” he says. “Like a child.”

“I should’ve brought my laptop but I decided not to in the moment,” you sigh again. “I should’ve brought it for the actual travel time. Now I feel restless.”

“There’s plenty of things to do while we’re here,” Zayne assures. “It’s a small village, but I’m confident that you’ll find something that piques your interest. It’s rather easy to do.”

You roll your eyes and grab a bag from Zayne’s arm to help him. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it. I have the attention span of a goldfish.”

“Not quite a goldfish. Perhaps a small dog or a bird.”

You playfully shove him and his body follows through, stumbling a step or two away. You know he could’ve resisted a bit more, easily, but where’s the fun in that? “Shut up and let’s go already. We got a cabin waiting for us.” With that, you begin to stalk off in the direction of the station exit. Zayne doesn’t say anything and trails behind you like a shadow.

~

The cabin is much nicer than you originally thought. A cozy lounge, a small kitchen and dining area, and a loft upstairs with only one bed ;). There’s a nice fireplace in front of the small sofa with firewood already sat inside of it. It smells slightly of the outside trees, wood, and some hints of smoke.

“Oh, this is nice,” you say, placing your bags on the floor in the foyer. “Cozy and warm. I wonder if the kitchen is filled.”

“Just like you to be thinking of food.”

“It’s getting close to lunch—can you blame me?” You throw him a look over your shoulder before bouncing into the small, but homey kitchen. After inspecting all the cabinets and the small refrigerator you can see some left over nonperishables, bottles of water, pots and pans, and other miscellaneous items. “Mm, seems we’ll have to go into town if we want to actually eat food,” you say. “I’m glad it’s not that far from here.”

Zayne joins you in the kitchen and glances around. “It certainly is quaint,” he says. “Not bad.”

~

After an hour you and Zayne manage to make a small lunch just enough to tide you over. Afterwards you were planning to walk to the town store to buy more groceries for a proper dinner.

Halfway through your small lunch, you pause your eating. You take a moment, shifting and adjusting your body, rolling your shoulders out. You feel an uncomfortable feeling in your chest—as if the muscles are contracting. It’s a small point of discomfort but one you can’t ignore.

Zayne eyes you curiously, giving you a moment to assess whatever it is that’s wrong. After a few seconds of slight discomfort on your face he asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Just a weird feeling is all. Maybe I haven’t stretched enough. It feels like a cramp.”

“Where?”

“My chest.” You subconsciously rub where there’s pain, your fingers gently massaging into the skin above your heart. Immediately, Zayne’s face drops in concern.

“Do you have pain in your jaw or left arm? Do you feel tired? Nauseous?”

“What?” You blink at him. “No. It feels like a cramp. I probably didn’t stretch enough after my shift yesterday.”

Zayne doesn’t relax, though he takes your word for it. “I see,” he replies quietly. “Stretching after strenuous exercise is important in keeping muscles from straining or tearing. And to reduce soreness. Please make sure to do it whenever you can.”

You nod, the pain fading, but never disappearing. “I know. I will. After this I’ll do a few stretches and see if it helps.”

~

Despite your earlier complaint of having chest pain, you still insisted on taking a walk to the town store. Zayne was hesitant, preferring to do it himself or to make sure you’re okay. But your insistence won out, and now you two are traipsing down a beautiful snowy trail to the town.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you say. “Cold, but beautiful. Snowy mountains and terrain are always so picturesque.”

Zayne hums in agreement and looks around at the surrounding area before turning his head to look at you, who’s admiring the distant mountains. His gaze is uncharacteristically soft. “Some things truly are beautiful no matter what.”

You let out a chuckle and nod, still unaware of his eyes on you. “Yeah, it is.”

Halfway through your walk, you start to slow. You pause, taking a moment to breathe. It’s hard to breathe. Like you can’t catch your breath. Every time you attempt to take a deep inhale it’s like your body is stopping you. Dread wells up inside of you but youl try to calm yourself down. The pain in your chest that never fully stopped blooms again, and your face scrunches up in slight discomfort. You take a step back, attemping to collect yourself from the sudden slap of lightheadedness that just hit you.

Zayne stops a few feet away from you and turns, his face scrunching up in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Zayne, I don’t feel good. . .” You start to stumble, and Zayne immediately strides over to you. You reach your hand out to which he grasps tightly. He cradles your cheek in his other hand and looks down at you. His eyes flit over your face, taking in your expression and current physical condition. Your complexion is completely off, and you’re on the verge of losing consciousness. Your vision is blurry and you can make out his face through the lightheaded haze. Your chest hurts a lot.

Without a word, Zayne picks you up bridal style and begins to march back to the cabin. His brows are furrowed in determination and worry, lips pressed in a thin line. He’s not dumb. He knows what it is—it’s your heart. Most likely cardiac arrest from all the issues you have regarding it. He needs to get you medical attention—immediately. If he doesn’t, then—

Zayne shakes his head, clearing it of any unnecessary thought. His focus is making sure you’re okay. His steps are driven forward with the single thought of keeping you alive; heavy and steady. The nearest hospital to the cabin is close to 40 minutes away. He prays to whatever god there is to keep you from death in that time.

“Zayne,” you rasp out, your vision beginning to grow bright and contrasting. “My heart hurts.”

“I know,” Zayne replies softly, walking up the wooden porch of the cabin. “Hang on. Everything will be okay.”

You don’t realize you fall unconscious until the sense of impending doom vanishes.

~

Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. The aether core in your heart destabilized and that caused your heart to give. Fluctuations of your evol forced your body to become unstable, and therefore unpredictable. Zayne managed to contact help but by the time it arrived your body was under so much stress from your heart growing weak, that it became borderline dangerous to perform any intervention on you.

Zayne is but a cardiologist. As brilliant as he is, this is not something within his realm. He knows about Protocore Syndrome and how it can affect the body and the cardiovascular system, but never before has it evolved in turning you into an unstable core yourself.

They had no choice but to intubate and isolate you. Specialists who had an idea of what’s going on said you very well could be a ticking time bomb (you can imagine how that went over with Zayne). Your body pulses and glows, following the veins in your flesh and circling around your heart like koi fish. It would be beautiful, if not for the fact you could possibly explode in a flux of evol so strong you could level the area.

Zayne watches from the observation mezzanine, his brows tightly knit together. He can feel his ice begin to spread across his neck and shoulders, the feeling a burning cold that forces him to look away from you. Taking a few deep breaths, he forces the ice to recede. It hurts. It always does. But he can’t help it. He can’t stop.

His eyes slowly slide back over to you. He knew he should’ve pushed you to take care of yourself more—or done it himself. Why didn’t he do it? Why do you never listen? He knew your heart wasn’t strong to begin with and yet you became a Hunter, go on dangerous missions, ignore instructions. . . something has to be wrong. There has to be a disconnect.

Is it him? Is he too cold? Too detached? If you die—

If you die. . . what then?

Zayne stands there for a moment before turning his head and walking from the observation window. He has a meeting to attend to; one that will decide on how to proceed with this issue. On how to care for you.

His Hunter will not die. Not under his care. Not while he’s alive.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four Five

What the fuck are you even so happy about? You fucked it up. Jesus you both fucked it up. I didn’t even know something like that could happen.

Eddie smiles at his bedroom ceiling in the dim light, “it was amazing.”

You hugged. Congratulations, you hugged a boy. Eddie can feel Billy roll his eyes.

“You don’t get it.”

There’s nothing to get, because nothing actually happened. Because somehow you both fucked up something as simple as kissing.

Eddie laughs, “you mad Billy? Mad you didn’t get to make out with Harrington?”

Fuck off. I don’t give a shit.

“Uh hu,” Billy is finally quiet. He leaves Eddie alone, lets him grin up at the clean ceiling from his clean new bed, in the room Steve set up for him. Filled with the things Steve went out of his way to save from the old trailer. There’s no beeping here, no hospital smells, he’s warm and comfortable and he’s full of Steve’s casserole and mashed potatoes.

The scent of Steve’s aftershave lingering in his nose, on his cheek.

They were going to kiss, Eddie’s pretty sure they were. They were both so close, heads tilted and eyes wide, but someone twitched wrong, something happened, both of them simultaneously sublimating whatever it was they were doing into a hug instead. Steve’s arms wrapped carefully around Eddie’s middle, conscious of the still healing wounds, his face tucked carefully against Eddie’s neck, ‘never done anything with a guy before.’ The whispered confession from Steve Harrington, the soft lips and sharp stubble against Eddie’s neck.

A confession that means he was going to do something with a guy. Or at least was interested in doing something with a guy, and that guy was, presumably, Eddie.

An incredible turn of events, really.

‘Never done anything with anyone,’ Eddie had whispered back, earning himself a snort of a laugh. God natured though. Happy.

‘We can go slow.’

And Steve had left with a big sappy smile and a dorky little finger tip wave and a promise they would hang out tomorrow.

Eddie sighs. Then grabs a pillow so he can scream into it. And then he’s kind of just grinning, laughing a little, he’s just so fucking happy.

Jesus christ, you fuck ups are actually made for each other.

“I hope so.”

What is this we’re doing now.

Eddie ignores him, sets up his DM shield, his books, his dice. Unpacks his pencils, his notes. Eddie always plays it fast and loose, he’s got a vague plan sure. As long as he knows the plan and the motivations of the bad guys, everything else falls into place pretty easily.

So this is the nerd thing you’ve been planning for.

He wants this one to be good; first game with Will the Wise present, after all. Steve’s in the kitchen, left Eddie to set up the finishing touches. They’re going to hang out and watch a movie once all the kids have gone, and Eddie’s pretty sure he couldn’t have planned a more perfect day if he tried. Steve’s even making them snacks. He’s done something to the dining room table to make it even bigger, unfolding some extra hidden bit of wood to make it longer; wild rich people shit.

The bell tolls; the kids are at the door, and Eddie can’t suppress his joy at having all the kids here together, everyone alive and well. Well, except for Max, which is shitty, but all the kids are going to go and visit her after this, so that’ll be nice for her.

He wants to prance to the front door, leap and skip and play he’s so buzzing with excitement for this, but one single hop is enough for his body to remind him, pretty sharply, that he is absolutely not ready for that sort of nonsense just yet, so he walks instead.

Jesus christ, this kid is a straight up savage.

Lady Applejack stares Eddie down over his DM shield.

Could have done with her against the Mindflayer.

“I’m going to attack.”

Of course she is.

Eddie claps joyously, “everyone roll for initiative.”

Eddie’s standing now, can’t possibly just sit with all this going on, “and that is a hit, his mighty war hammer crashing into your armor with a resounding smack, for one D10 of damage…”

“Dustin,” Mike hisses, “how much health do you even have?”

Dustin shakes his head, worried, but doesn’t answer. Lucas is hanging onto Dustin's shoulder, looking down at Dustin’s character sheet. Eddie’s dice clatters on the table behind the DM shield, Lucas signals ‘five’ to will with his fingers.

The whole table collectively holds it’s breath as Eddie watches his die roll and settle on a nine. “It’s a glancing blow! Your armor must absorb some of the hit as you take four points of damage!”

Eddie, no, don’t lie. Kill the little shit-you're too soft on them.

Will immediately starts on his turn, so excited, “I cast Cure Light Wounds!”

Of course he does.

Why is this taking them so long?

The most simplistic puzzles are the best.

Literally all the have to do is match the colors. I can’t believe how dumb they are.

Eddie does his best to hold in the snort. Doesn’t quite succeed and earns a scathing look from Erica. Yep. They are over thinking it a little.

This is so frustrating, how can you even sit through this.

Watching them struggle is the fun. They’ll get it in a minute.

We’re going to grow old and die here.

They sit and listen to the kids argue a little longer, coming up with wilder and wilder theories on how to solve what is the simplest color match game Eddie could come up with.

Baldie is staring at us.

Don’t call her that, Eddie’s reply is reflexive, but Billy is right. El is watching them.

Eddie isn’t surprised when she lingers. Deliberately makes it so that she’s the last standing on the porch. The boys shot off on their bikes, but El, Mike and the ferocious Lady Applejack are hitching a ride with Nancy.

She waves to him through the wind shield, then turns, talking to Mike.

“Do you talk to him?”

No preamble. Just those big fucking eyes looking up at Eddie. Knowing. A little kid should not look like that.

“Yeah, all the time.” In his mind, Billy is still and quiet. Watching warily.

“Is he alright?”

“He’s still a massive dick, so, I guess so, yeah.”

“Does Max know?”

She cuts right to the heart of it, this kid, “she’s the only one who knows.”

She nods, “for now,” and then leaves, running to get in the car without a care in the world.

She’s terrifying.

I know, fucking great isn’t it?

Part seven

[wroteclassicaly]

Warnings: Just some cute and domestic fluff.

Hearing the beeping smoke alarm just regulating. The quiet of the trailer. Even the occasional chirp of the bird Wayne got as a gift from you. He loves birds and bird watching, nowadays. When you wake up, Eddie is asleep, his scarred, bare back at your disposal, sheets pulled around his trim waistline, barely covering his unclothed ass. He’s not the lightest sleeper, so you simply slide out of bed, working your panties back on from last night, a discarded baggy shirt with holes you’d left here, and grab your bath robe off his corner chair. One last look at the messy haired boy in your shared bed, you can’t believe that you’re in this moment with him - so lucky, so happy.

The realization that you’re still a little unsteady on your feet from previous activities, it has you gripping the panel walls. The soft hum of the set has you smiling as you approach the kitchen, Wayne bent over the couch trying to pack a few things in his camp duffel. There’s freshly brewed coffee that you inhale, and Shiner (the bird) makes note of your presence. Your tap a finger at his cage.

“Good mornin’, kiddo. Did I wake you guys?” Wayne manages a smile, and you shake your head.

“Good morning. And no, you didn’t.” You motion towards his bag. “You leaving for a bit?”

It’s so cute how bashful he is. He motions towards the weather report through a haze of colors on the little set. You nod. “Gonna be a stormy day, so thought I’d take my lady fishin’ for a bit. Stay at hers, get some rest before the drive out. She’s makin’ us a picnic.”

You really wanna bottle this man up and keep him safe, because he’s practically glowing right now.

“Did you get breakfast? I can have an omelet and some bacon for in a few minutes.” You place your mug down after several passing moments.

He zips up his bag and shakes his head at you fondly. “Actually, I did. Picked up some McDonald’s after my shift. Left your’s and Ed’s shares in the oven to keep warm. Should be all right still.”

You marvel, thanking him, moving to swiftly kiss his cheek as he zips his bag closed, patting his pockets for a double check. You’re retrieving the food by the time he’s stepping out the door.

“Love ya, sweetheart. Tell my boy I said love him too. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

“Love you, Wayne. Be safe, okay? Tell Ms. Henderson we say hello. Let Dustin know Eds will call him a little later for tonight’s match, if you don’t mind?”

~*~

He has woken up, scratching his belly and rubbing his massive, curly bed head, clad in his sweats and a shirt by the time you have the food plated. You pretend you don’t hear him, distracted by task. His soft, spicy scent and the smell of you clings to his skin as he approaches your backside, sliding his arms around you, chin pressing into your shoulder. “You left me in a mountain of sheets. I was lost without you, empress.”

“I think you faired well on your corridor travels, my King.” You turn in his arms to see that cheeky grin.

Both of you automatically lean in to meet mouths, that fresh desperation and desire never failing to excel its presence. “Hey, baby.” You greet in between kisses, his hands squeezing your waist through the fluffy fabric.

On the noisy breakaway, he leaves a few more clicks to your lips, accepting the plate you offer him and the coffee, making a move towards the couch as you join. “Did Wayne have an over?” He tucks a sweat clad length beneath him, one of your borrowed shirts hanging from his slender form.

“Overnight date with Dustin’s momma.”

Eddie just grins, but then he does that face (the one where he knows he’s forgotten something, and attempts to tackle the misplaced thought). You catch on quickly. “Told him to tell Dustin to call later for your meeting details. It’s supposed to storm all day.”

He takes a bit of his sausage breakfast roll, wiggling his brows. “Good. Mother Nature providing the master with her sound effects.”

“And…” he starts with another add on. “Gives us a lot of time to ourselves, sweetheart.”

You simply bury yourself into his neck, listening to his raspy chuckle, and finish your breakfast after Eddie has changed the weather to an old movie channel. You shower first whilst Eddie tidies up the place and puts on clean bedclothes, and he showers after, giving you time to put away the rest of the laundry. He doesn’t waste a second after coming out, not even a towel on. He finds you, already waiting, that sensed, shared energy — encouraged by a summer storm. He lays you down in his bed and you don’t leave until evening… reluctantly.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Hard at Work

Label Mature 18+

Summary You and Austin have been away from each other for 3 weeks as he films the Bikeriders. It’s agonizing for you both unable to physically be together. After pulling some strings Austin is able to have you stay for the weekend and even visit him on set. You finally reunite in his trailer and he immediately uses you to relieve his sexual urges.

Established relationship girlfriend

Fingering•restraint•orgasm•oral sex male•cum eating

Inspo: Anon request 💝 “Austin missing you and not being able to see you or have sex with you but you get to visit him on set one day and he wont have sex at work because he’s professional but he’s so stressed he makes you give him oral instead lots of oral description on Austin and how he uses you for stress relief”

Hard at Work

It’s been 3 weeks since Austin left to Ohio to film the Bikeriders. After being apart from him so long all you can do is fantasize about him. His giant house is empty the staff cleans while you run errands and work out. You comfort yourself in the evening after your shower going through the walk in closet pulling one of his white tees and smelling his scent, vanilla orange blossoms with musk you wear one to bed.

Every night you have facetime sex with him, he has a full goatee now and his voice sounds incredible as he tells you how to pleasure yourself for him as you watch him mastrubate on camera. Every time you close the laptop you feel a twinge of pain you crave his company his touch his everything.

You lay back on his empty king size bed and hug a pillow until you doze off.

You over sleep the next morning the maid knocks on the master bedroom door and you sit up in bed eyes squinting as you wake up . “Just a minute“ you say picking your phone up from the night stand to check the time. It’s blown up with texts and missed calls from Austin.

Austin 8:16 - Baby pack a bag I’m having you flown out

Austin 8:49- Baby where are you? I got approval to have you stay at my apartment ! Please answer

9:09 Missed Call

9:15 Missed Call

9:29 Missed Call

You immediately press call back

You: “Austin oh my gosh baby I overslept I’m so sorry we were on face time so late last night and l I was just missing you so much”

Austin: “Not for long your staying with me this weekend I’m kidnapping you and holding you hostage ”

You smile

You:“Austin I will be the most willing hostage for you “

You both laugh

Austin: “I need you, I’m missing you so badly baby. When I’m alone in the apartment at night after we face time I’m just gutted I want you to sleep here with me . I begged the coordinator to have you stay and they said they’ll allow two days at first to see how it affects my work and if all goes well you can come back longer for the weeks when I’m needed in less scenes. Now that it’s happening I’m just so grateful I’ll get to have you here..”

His voice trails off he misses you so much

You: “Aww Austin I’ll be there soon, I'm so excited you have no idea. I always assume you’ll be away the entire time you work this must’ve been a really big ask”

Austin:“Yea I think it was, I requested 3 weeks ago before I even arrived here and they just granted this morning. Oh! and its freezing here I’m wearing my hoodie and socks right now in the apartment, pack everything warm!”

You: “Okay I will, do you need me bring you anything? Do you need more hoodies?

You giggle

Austin:“Yes! More hoodies and more you!”

You both smile on each end of the call.

You: “Okay let me know all the details. I’m already mentally packing a bag to be there with you ”

You put him on speaker and open your notes app and he explains the dynamics of the trip what time you are arriving who will pick you up. He sends you his door code plane tickets and NDA paperwork to email back signed. Once everything is complete you say your I love yous and hang up.

You let out a shriek of excitement as you run to the walk in closet packing your weekend bag full of sexy lingerie and skimpy outfits to go see Austin. Then you smartly pack your jeans and jackets with his hoodies.

Ohio

It’s just before noon the sun is trying to peek through the overcast clouds covering the city of Ohio. Austin booked you an early flight to maximize his time with you. As you leave the airport after the 5 hour trip you rest your hand on your chin and close your eyes a little tired.

You are wearing black leggings and one of Austin’s black hoodies. His driver adjusts the rear view mirror as he speaks to you. “Austin would like me to make a quick stop at his apartment to drop off your things then promptly bring you to the filming location for the day, I have your passes. “Thank you” you say kindly then remember to text Austin. You snap a a selfie and attach it to the message.

You: “I’m here”

You look out the window and yawn trying to be more alert .

Your phone buzzes

Austin: “Fuck you look so good,I’m so excited you’ll be with me soon. I get a break in my trailer in a few hours I want you there.” He sends a picture of he and Jody comer in their costumes throwing up peace signs making you laugh.

“I’ll be there baby” you type.

You put your phone away and rest you eyes a moment more.

The driver pulls up to a condominium community the camera scans his car sticker in the window the gate opens. He pulls to a stop at the side entrance of the building popping the trunk the sound waking you up.

He opens your door and you exit the car following him as he takes your luggage. He wheels it in as he scans his key fob entering the building. He takes the elevator with you to the second floor exiting into the hall and stopping in front of door B17. You enter the code the lock wizzes open.

“Here is my card if you need anything I’ll be waiting for you downstairs” the drives instructs.

“Thank you” you say again and you giddily enter Austin’s place.

It’s dark inside all his shades are drawn. You click on a light stepping into the living room area and he was right it’s freezing. You check the thermostat its on but clearly not heating the place.

The apartment is a one bedroom Airbnb style set up, amenities with contemporary decor. There is a beige couch and beige curtains on dark hard wood floors. A shelf full of fake decorative vases a television and a desk set up against the window with a computer and a laptop.

You walk over to the desk. Austin has a pod cast mic set up next to his laptop a stack of books and a script. He also a framed photo he snapped of you laying on his bed.

You look back recognizing the chandelier and the bookshelf of vases in the living room realizing this is where he has the face time sex calls you have together making you blush.

You head to the master bedroom, there is a queen sized bed with two night stands, ornate lamps and a bookshelf, his outfit is already laid out on the duvet covers a black hoodie, gray sweat pants white socks. You enter the bathroom he has his skin care products neatly arranged on the counter it’s so cute you can’t stand how organized he is.

You bring your suitcase to the bedroom and undress, adding your plane outfit to his laundry basket and rinsing off. You exit the shower and dry off trembling the air is frigid in the apartment.

You pull your white mini skirt and stretchy black long sleeve v neck top from your suitcase adding boots a scarf with a black trench coat. You know how much he loves you in mini skirts.

Underneath you have a delicate lacy bra and panty set that he loves to feel the texture of on your body, the bra also makes your tits look amazing. You smile looking in the mirror peeking at your outfit thighs and breasts on full display then you tie the trench coat tight covering it all back up. He’s going to devour you.

You make sure to bring the gifts you picked up for him. Dark chocolate, ‘Essential Oils: Stress Relief Kit’ and one hoodie for on set.

As you exit the building the driver opens your door and you climb in with your gift bag feeling refreshed and excited to finally see him.

It takes 25 minutes to drive from the apartment to the filming location for the day.

The driver rolls down his window showing his ID badge at the first security check . You look out the and see the signage for ‘Edge Water Motorsports Park’. As you roll in the grounds are littered with tons of people dressed as bikers, there is a camera crane, camera crew, dozens of set coordiators standing around, extras makeup artists stunt men and personel with clip boards making sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. There is one person in charge with a megaphone progressing the production.

Your stomach is in knots this is such a big ordeal. It always impresses and intimidates you how Austin can just turn on and be in character with all of this chaos going on around him and that all of these people are here for the movie he is the star of. You’ve never been invited on set before and now you are feeling the apprehension as to why.

You drive through the final check point of security the leading cast trailer area. You look in awe seeing the doors with the names Hardy and Comer stopping at Butler .

Two security approach the car one speaks to the driver the other opens your door as you exit withyour gift bag. He hands you your lanyard with a VIP marking

“You keep this on you at all times on set, Austin is expecting you, he’s in his trailer” he says gruffly and you thank him.

The Trailer

You approach the long air bus that reads Butler and smile. You walk up two steps and knock

“Come in” you hear his familiar voice say.

You are so happy your heart begins pounding in your chest. You pull the handle opening the door to his trailer. Austin stops reading and places his script on the table eyes lighting up immediately as he sees you he watches you step in and close the door behind you.

He picks you up so quickly in his strong arms lifting you into a hug. He looks handsome in a different grungy sort of way with his goatee and his biker outfit on

“I’ve missed you so much baby” he says eyes shining with excitement

“I’ve missed you too Austin“ you admit lovingly. Your arms are draped over his shoulders gift bag swinging behind him in your hands as he holds you to him squeezing his arms around your torso.

He lowers you back down and plants a kiss on your lips you tiptoe up wanting more. His eyes light up as he plants another softer longer one but it isn’t enough for you, he smells like diesel and motor oil driving you crazy.

“Austin have you been riding a motorcycle today?” Your voice almost a hush from arousal.

“Yea I did film a riding scene how did you know?” he smiles curiously.

You lean in to him just at the place under his jaw at his neck inhaling his scent again

“Mmm because you smell just like fresh motor oil” you admit and it sparks your passion for him. You trace your finger over one of his biker patches peeking up at him through your lashes

“Austin I need you” you whisper running your hand down the leather vest of his Benny costume.

He smiles bringing his hand to hold your face

“I know I need you too, but we’ll fix that later right now I was only able to request a one hour visit” he winks at you and you smile you tell yourself to be good with him in this setting.

You hand him his gift bag and he looks delighted that you thought of him and immediately digs through it taking out his favorite brand of dark chocolate first “Yes!” he says confirming the choice smiling up at you.

Then he sees the stress relief essential oils and chuckles to himself

“I hope this work”he says making you giggle. He sees his hoodie at the bottom and thanks you with a kiss. He sets the bag down on his table and unseals the dark chocolate taking a bite.

“Come in and get comfortable “ he says as he motions you in and locks the door behind you. He guides you to sit down on his brown leather couch.

You open your coat revealing your outfit as you sit, breasts on display legs crossed showing your upper thighs in the mini skirt, he pauses dumbfounded until he regains his thoughts putting his chocolate bar in the fridge and pulling out a glass jar of filtered water. He continues staring at your body as he pours you a glass and sets it on the low table in front of you.

He pulls his chair from the high table to sit across from you his legs wide apart resting in his chair wondering how he's going to stop thinking about fucking you in his trailer and just enjoy your company while he's on break.

"You look so good" he says already faltering eyes lingering on your exposed thighs in the mini skirt. You intentionally uncross your legs spreading them wide apart showing him your panties. He sits up in his chair full attention on you. He hasn't had you in so long he's craving you now.

You see his unfaltering gaze between your legs and leave the couch climbing onto his lap straddling him as you kiss him. He accepts you hugging his arms around your waist kissing you back slowly.

Your taste your smell your sounds his cock begins to swell being reminded.

"Austin I missed you so much I couldn't think straight" you say taking your lips from his.

“It was the same for me" he breaths as he caresses the nape of your neck.

He pushes his cock against you and pulls your neck to his lips kissing along your throat his tongue sliding out to taste your skin getting more aroused by your neediness for him as you grind your clothed heat back on to him.

"Just show it to me” he whispers. You stand immediately and lift your skirt pulling your panties down they cling to your wetness before you pull them all the way off placing them on the table.

You go to lay on on the couch and let him fuck you but he quickly grabs ahold of your wrist quietly laughing.

"no no I can't take you here" he says whispering "I'm at work....but l'll give you something else" his eyes stare at you daringly.

He pulls you back on to his lap with your legs spread apart pussy completely exposed to him. He pulls your skirt up to the hips looking in your eyes watching your reaction as he reaches his hand between your legs and slides his fingers back and forth on your wet pussy folds.

"Mmmmm Austin!" you cry out finally feeling his touch. He loves watching you get off, but he cups his hand on your mouth reminding you to be quiet as he continues.

"You're already so wet" he whispers. You get wet so easily for him it makes his cock start to get hard when he feels it seeping out of you. "Fuck" he whispers again and slips his long fingers all the way inside of you making you moan loudly . Even though his hand is muffling the sound against your mouth he stills his fingers inside of you.

"I want to make you cum...but if you can't be quiet I will stop ....and I don't want to stop" he says a glint of sexual deprivation in his eyes. "Are you going to be good for me and stay quiet so I can watch you cum"

You nod frantically with his hand covering your mouth wanting him to finish and fight yourself to remain quiet for him.

He begins again gently sliding his fingers in and out of you as your walls grip them tightly. Not having him in so long intensifying your pleasure making you fight the urge to moan so badly it's transcending you to another consciousness. Your face flushes pink and your body writhes against his palm beneath you as you make tiny muffled noises against his other hand cupped over your mouth.

He just stares at your beauty loving his large hand covering your mouth holding back your moans as his fingers derive pleasure out of you pushing you over the edge making you fall apart. He's feeling drunk from your arousal for him, speeding up his movements loving the feel of his fingers squeezing inside of you as his knuckles wetly smack against your entrance. He wants to enjoy his favorite sight of watching you cum for him.

You can't believe you're doing this in his trailer on set with security and staff right outside the door. It makes you want to rush and and try to cum faster your body begins tensing from anxiety as your heart races faster and he can already tell something is wrong.

"Just relax for me" he whispers, slowly removing his hand from your mouth placing it on the back of your neck holding you closer. With the hand that is fingering you he places his thumb on your clit so that with each push of his fingers inside of you his thumb glides on your clit too. It’s such a skilled move you stare at him in awe feeling the pleasure amplifying in your core as your eyes fill with worship for what hes doing to you. He just smiles at you and pulls your neck to his mouth kissing and sucking his favorite place just below your jaw

You give into him completely exhaling small whimpers as he kisses your neck and expertly fingers you into an orgasm, your panting heavily in his ear, rocking and clenching on him. As you start to climax he whispers his praises

"You've been so good for me being quiet, I want to make you cum for me now" you nod profusely feeling the tightness in your core ready to snap at any second.

He pushes his fingers up toward your naval and curls them down pulling in a “come here” motion that has you lose all resolve he fingers your gspot faster and harder until he’s rocking your entire body in his lap. You grip onto his shoulders for dear life as an extreme rush of pleasure floods your core and it snaps as you orgasm for him holding back every loud moan that tries to escape your throat.

When he removes his fingers you whimper, and spread your legs wider wanting more. It gets him so hot knowing you need a second orgasm being without him for so long. He rewards you immediately slipping his fingers back in and pressing his other hand down across your naval plunging his fingers deeper, it feels like he's squeezing the life out of you as you gasp overwhelmed with so much euphoria your vision goes blurry.

He pulls his fingers out and waits until you whimper

“Austin please” you beg, his fingers teasing just near your entrance.

“ You want more?” He whispers

“ Yes Austin Please!” you beg almost raising your voice from how much you need it. He then slips his fingers back inside of you doubling his pace watching your facial expression change as your about to cum again. He's getting off being able to finger fuck you and see you orgasm a second time for him.

When he curls his finger against your gspot while pressing his hand on your naval it makes your body constrict so tightly you can’t breathe you clench on him so hard until you feel overwhelmed and a burst of pleasure erupts in your core releasing liquid all over his fingers as he wetly pounds them between your legs. He stills his fingers when you shudder and collapse against his chest trembling, the double orgasm wrecking you.

"You came so beautifully for me " he whispers in your ear as he pets down your hair, he loved watching how he made you cum twice so much. He carefully pulls his fingers out of you fully covered in your slick. He planned to suck them but the taste of you always turns him on too much and he has to get through more scenes at work.

He decides to make you do it for him.

“Open your mouth for me I want you to taste what I cant have until later” he whispers and you suck him clean from his knuckles to his finger tips.

His lips part and pupils dilate wide watching you, it arouses him so much you feel his cock getting brick hard beneath you .

“I have to get up” he whisper's slightly panicked and you giggle leaving his lap quickly and letting him stand. “Get dressed “ he says eyeing your painties on the table.

You pull them back on as he tries to straighten himself out. The outline of his erect cock is prevalent in his jeans there’s nothing he can do to hide it.

You drop down on your knees in-front of him already undoing his belt freeing access to pull down his zipper. His body is tensing not wanting to cum at work, especially not on set, especially not in his character costume, but he doesn’t stop you hes already consumed with the thought of cumming in your mouth.

His brain starts trying to take over

“Baby I can’t do this at w…” he starts but you finally release his hard veiny cock in your hand making his body jump

“You can’t do what baby?” You ask looking up to him poised to suck his cock. He can’t resist the urge his eyes faltering looking down your top and seeing your breasts in a lace bra and your thighs exposed in the miniskirt riding up to be more like a belt. He wants in your mouth so badly he gives in

“Baby suck my cock ” he begs.

You look at his length pulsing in your hand, bigger and redder than the last time you’ve seen it. He’s been waiting to have sex with you this entire time. You feel a surge of arousal making you wetter rubbing your thighs together wanting to fuck his brains out.

You hold the base and slowly guide him in your mouth a desperate moan escapes his throat when his tip hits the back of your throat filling your mouth all the way up.

You twirl your tongue around the tip and he grips the edge of the table to keep himself steady. You love the sound of him gasping and making small whimpers above as you hollow your cheeks and begin to suck. His eyes are shut tight and he’s panting he needed you so badly

"It’s so good baby” he breaths.

You reach your hand up guiding it underneath his shirt trailing your fingers tips on his rock hard abs. He wants his release down your throat and begins gently thrusting his length in your mouth letting you know he’s ready to cum. You hold firm to his hips tracing your thumbs on the bones there knowing he’s going to go so hard when he orgasms.

He holds your hair in a makeshift pony tail ready to use your face

“You gonna swallow for me baby?” he asks through ragged breaths fucking your mouth faster. You lock eyes with him and you nod with his heavy cock in your mouth making slurping sounds as he’s ramming it in, he presses deeper and your throat clenches around his tip. “ UGHH” he cries loudly from the intense feeling.

He grips your hair harder holding your head steady to milk his cock

“Here it comes ..suck it out of me” he says making you moan on his length twirling your tongue over the head sucking hard on his tip until you hear him grunting loudly as his silky cum squirts across your palette, you relax your throat and swallow it right out of the tip of his cock

“OH FUCK” he yells loudly doubling over. He loses all his strength as you drain him completely dry and he struggles to recover. You are sure everyone outside the trailer heard him.

You release his empty cock from your mouth and catch your breath. Both of your thoughts interrupted by a harsh knock on the trailer door.

You quickly get up and adjust your clothing as Austin zips and buckles his belt checking that you are decent. He opens the door with a causal innocence

“Everything alright Mr. Butler? “ the staffer asks. Austin smiles running his hand through his hair knowing he was too loud.

“Yes just rehearsing lines” He says with a cool cadence gained from his profession as an actor.

“I’m sorry to bother you but you have 10 minutes until take. The golf cart will be here soon do you need anything else before you head back on set?” The staffer asks.

Austin looks over at you and you shake your head no “Were all good “ Austin says nodding to him as he closes the door.

He wraps you in his arms as soon as it shuts nuzzling his nose against your neck planting sweet kisses up to your ear

“You are such a naughty girl making me cum in my trailer” he whispers and you giggle “But man do I feel great now” he smiles.

“I can tell” you say affectionately.

“Yea my stress level has been through the roof … I was so distracted all the time, now I’m so clear headed I probably won’t even need as many takes today” He confesses as he holds you tighter and presses his pelvis into yours

“The fact that you’re going to watch on set today is going distract the fuck out of me, but I’ll probably get my best takes ever thinking about how I get to strip you out of this outfit when I get to the apartment later” He says tracing his fingertip along the lace of your bra peeking out of your top, he takes a hold your jaw tilting your face up and gently kisses your lips in appreciation. He’s so much sexier after you make him cum.

He takes your hand and pushes the trailer door open leading you outside just as the golf cart arrives you both hop in and take a seat behind the driver. He peeks over at you once you’re both settled and smirks watching you smiling dreamily staring off in to space without a care in the world from the orgasms he gave you. He puts. his arm around you pulling you closer enjoying having you back with him again.

You are just lost in bliss daydreaming about the ways he made you cum in his trailer and how he’s going to have his way with you so many more times over the weekend in the apartment . You place your hand on his thigh and squeeze it in anticipation, ready to go see him professionally work hard on set this time.

END

Masterlist

[corroded-hellfire]

Time For Toys and Time For Cheer - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with the El to my Max, @munson-blurbs

Summary: When Brittany’s Christmas presents for the boys come in, it’s evident that “it’s the thought that counts” doesn’t apply.

Note: Jingle bells, Brittany smells, please enjoy this fic today!

Warnings: mild violence, Eddie being a perv, Brittany being Brittany

Words: 2.3k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me.”

Eddie lets the scissors drop down onto his mattress as you peer into the box he just opened. Seeing Brittany’s name on a box when you picked up the mail for your boyfriend was enough to irk you for the rest of the day—especially since Eddie wouldn’t open it until after the kids were in bed because it’s probably their Christmas gifts. The silver lining though, was that you saw Brittany is going by her maiden name again. You hope to God she changed it legally; she doesn’t deserve to be a Munson. 

The box did contain gifts for the boys but as you look inside you see what pissed your boyfriend off. You reach in and pick up a box of Legos that were made for a kid half Ryan’s age. The Blue’s Clues coloring book that Eddie takes out is just as insulting. Should she get credit for knowing Ryan likes Legos and Luke likes coloring books? Not in your opinion. Not when she lived with them for most of their lives. Not when she gave birth to them and should know how old they are and that these presents are not age appropriate. 

“Is this really a bunch of Lego kids on a bus? Oh look, they’re soccer players on a bus.” You scoff and roll your eyes as you set the gift back in the box it was shipped in. “Yeah, ‘cause Ryan loves sports so much.” Eddie’s eldest was in agreement with his father that sports are stupid. You think his mother would’ve known that. Then again, his mother is Brittany. 

“He’d put that together in less than five minutes,” Eddie says, nodding towards the Lego set. He sets the coloring books back inside as well and pulls out a small white paper that got stuck to the bottom of the box. “Looks like they’re from Wal-Mart. Nice of her to send a gift receipt. Almost as if she knew her presents were shit.” 

Any irritation you feel for Brittany doesn’t come close to the love you have for Luke and Ryan, and you’d do everything in your power to make sure they have a wonderful Christmas. 

“Think Wayne will watch them for a few hours after dinner one night?” you ask, eyes scanning over the gift receipt before meeting Eddie’s deep brown ones. 

“If we buy him a mug, he might watch them for the whole weekend.” Eddie puts the gift receipt back in the box and closes it. He looks over at you and an adoring grin grows on his face. “I fucking love you, babe.” He takes your face in his hands and presses a wet, smacking kiss to your forehead. 

Eddie falls a little bit deeper in love with you every time you do something for the boys without any hesitation. And since it’s a frequent occurrence, it’s safe to say that he’s head-over-heels for you. 

A few nights later, Eddie brings the car to a stop in front of his uncle’s trailer. He puts it in park and looks over his shoulder at his sons in the backseat. Ryan doesn’t seem bothered one bit that he’s being dropped off at his grandfather’s. Luke, on the other hand, looks like you and Eddie just told him he’ll never be able to eat another cookie again in his life. 

When Eddie’s eyes meet Luke’s blue ones, the little boy groans and drops his head back against his seat, curls smooshing around his head like a halo. 

“Why can’t we go with you?” he whines. 

“Luke,” Eddie says with a chuckle. “You hate clothes shopping for yourself. Let alone anyone else.”

“Yeah,” you say as you turn to face him as well. “And I can take forever in dressing rooms. I can never decide what I like better.”

“Plus,” Eddie adds with a smirk, knowing a foolproof way to get the boys out of the car, “you really wanna come with us and watch us kiss the whole night?” 

The moment Eddie leans in towards you, both boys groan and Ryan slaps his hand over his eyes. Checkmate. 

Luke is quick to scramble out of the car, his older brother right behind him. 

“Go!” Luke practically shouts. “Take your time! Make sure you get a nice dress.”

“Yeah,” Ryan adds. “Has to look nice for your work party.”

It’s hard for both you and Eddie to keep a lid on your laughter while the boys are all but pushing your car down the road to get you away from them. 

“Be good,” Eddie calls out the open window. 

“Yeah, yeah…” Luke mumbles as he trudges up the front steps of the trailer. Ryan follows behind him and gives you and Eddie a wave before they head inside the house. 

The moment they’re inside, Eddie turns to you and raises his eyebrows. 

“Can we buy you a new dress?” he asks. 

“Why?” you ask with a laugh. “You’ll want me to buy a sexy one, then not want me to wear it out anywhere and let people see me in it.”

“Ah, fuck,” he mumbles as he puts the car in drive. 

“Maybe after we return the baby-fied toys that are in the trunk and get the new ones, we can look at some lingerie, though?” you tease.

“Deal.”

The Wal-Mart parking lot is a madhouse; Eddie circles it three times before finally snagging a spot all the way at the back. He scoops the presents from the trunk and the two of you make a beeline for the return counter, with you holding onto his jacket sleeve to avoid losing him in the crowd. 

“Okay,” Eddie says, once you’ve secured the gift card that contains the store credit. He looks at you with sheer determination. “We gotta divide and conquer. You shop for Ryan, and I’ll shop for Luke.”

You make your way to the Lego aisle; Brittany had the right idea, but the wrong execution. After perusing the shelves for something more age-appropriate, your gaze lands on a kit to build a Statue of Liberty replica. 

Just as you grab it, you feel someone tugging on the other side. “Um, sorry, I’m taking this one,” you try to explain, willing your voice not to waver as it often does during confrontation. 

The man who’d reached for it as well scowls at you. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He yanks it from your grasp triumphantly. There’s a nasty sneer on his face as he looks down his nose at you. He’s around Eddie’s height, bald as a cue ball, and has a beer belly that’s larger than most pregnant women’s bumps.

“Hey! What the hell’s your problem?” The words slip from your mouth before you can stop them. 

The man smirks menacingly. “What’re you even doing in this aisle? The Easy Bake Ovens are down that way.”

When he points to his left and lets his guard down, you seize the opportunity to pull the Lego set from him. 

“What d’you think you’re doing, bitch?” He reaches out a meaty hand to snatch it back, but he’s jerked back by his collar. 

“You calling my wife a ‘bitch’?” Eddie growls, eyes blazing with fury. You can’t remember the last time you saw him this angry. He shoves the man, now wide-eyed and fearful, into a display of Tonka trucks, which catches the attention of a security guard. 

He marches over to the men, waving his hands and shouting. “Hey, break it up!” The guard pulls Eddie away from the man. “You two,” he looks between Eddie and the guy, “get outta here!”

Eddie sputters. “Wha—no, he called my wife a bitch!” he tries to protest, but the guard just pushes him toward the exit. “This is bullshit!”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but feel butterflies at the way he said, “my wife.” It has a much better ring to it than just, “my girlfriend” or even “my fiancée.”

Your awestruck demeanor vanishes as you stare at the back of Eddie’s head in disbelief while the security guard leads him away. You’re left hanging in limbo, unsure if you should follow him out or buy the toy—he is going through a lot of trouble for it, and you’d hate for his efforts to be for naught. 

As if he can read your mind, Eddie looks over his shoulder and gives you a wink. “You know what Luke likes, baby,” he calls out. 

You can only nod as you hold onto the Lego box for Ryan. 

“Meet you in the car,” Eddie says before turning back around, wincing when the guard shoves him out the door. 

It’s hard to shake off the fact that Eddie just got kicked out of the store and proceed to shop as though nothing has happened, but you know you need to find something for Luke. Something that isn’t made for a preschool demographic. 

“Okay, Legos for Ryan. Luke still likes coloring books. Just not Winnie the Pooh ones.” Brittany was at least on the right track with her gifts for the boys—just a good number of years behind.

The coloring books are a few aisles over and you chew on your bottom lip as you check out the collection. There are lots of Disney ones full of princesses and mice, but Luke only really enjoys the movies made by The Mouse, not any toys or games.

Scooby Doo catches your eye and as soon as you pick that one up, you see a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles book.

“Hmm…” you hum, but then chuckle to yourself. Of course he gets more than one.

You cradle those two books in your arm with the Lego set and also grab Pokémon and a monster truck one.

You’re welcome, Brittany, you think. You sent three but now he’s going to think you sent him four. None of this is for Brittany’s sake—both you and Eddie know that. The boys would be the ones disappointed, not their mother. There will come a day when they recognize her absence and carelessness, but you don’t want to help point it out; you just want to show them love and support.

On the way to the register, you do a double take when you see a mostly empty shelf of wrapping paper. Brittany didn’t bother to wrap the presents before she sent them, but that’s something else the kids don’t need to know. 

Making sure to get a paper that’s very different from any of the ones back at the apartment, you add a Frosty the Snowman roll to the pile in your arms. This way, they’ll differentiate these from the presents left by Santa. 

Most of the registers are crowded, which makes you huff, but you’ve had your share of fighting for the evening. Instead, you wait silently until the woman behind you in line starts speaking to you. “Last minute shopping for your kids, too?” she says with a laugh. 

You nod. “Yeah, it’s been quite the adventure,” you offer, not wanting to relay the near-WWE match that occurred in the toy section. 

“I’ll bet,” she chuckles, hoisting a toy Batmobile. “Boys or girls?”

The question catches you off-guard for a moment. “Boys. Two of them.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t imagine having two sons. I have one, and he’s a menace.”

You smile. “Yeah, but they’re my menaces.”

On Christmas morning you’re not entirely sure what’s up first: the sun or the boys. Eddie looks like a zombie as the two of you initially follow the boys out to the living room. Once they see the tree and the mountain of presents scattered about, their joy and excitement are almost as good as a cup of coffee in waking you and your boyfriend up. 

Heaps of wrapping paper pile up as they tear open their gifts: action figures and Hot Wheels for Luke, books and science kits for Ryan, and a handful of VHS tapes for them to share. 

Once the heap of presents begins to dwindle down to the last handful, Eddie stands up.

“Don’t wanna forget the gifts from Mom.”

The boys instinctively glance at you before they realize that their dad is referring to Brittany. 

Eddie hands them the carefully wrapped packages, assessing their expressions to gauge their excitement. 

“No way, this is the Lego set I wanted!” Ryan cheers, beaming at the toy. 

Luke is equally impressed with his gift. “Yes! New coloring books!” He stands up and does a little happy dance that looks very reminiscent of something you’d see one of The Peanuts characters doing. 

Eddie smiles, knowing all the bullshit of dealing with Brittany, in the past, present, or future, is worth it to keep his boys happy. 

“You guys wanna call Mom and thank her?” Eddie asks.

They nod, racing each other to the phone so they can get back to playing as soon as possible. There’s a part of you—a petty part—that hopes their phone call wakes Brittany up from a peaceful sleep. Just because you play nice for the kids doesn’t mean you can’t have small moments of joy at the thought of that woman being inconvenienced. 

“Your kids are crazy,” Eddie says to you, plopping back onto the couch and flinging his arm over your shoulder. “You should really rein them in.”

You give an exaggerated sigh and shake your head. “I’ve tried, but their father is even worse. Just enables the insanity.”

Eddie laughs, kissing your cheek before tilting your chin towards him so he can press his lips to yours. 

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

[thesassypadawan]

Repair Kit (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: You’re the on-set medic for the new Obi-Wan series. A verily simple, straight forward job…except when it comes to a pair of dumbasses. Who have no problem texting you in the middle of the night when they overdo it practicing…or when your new boyfriend accidentally gets out drunk. And tells you some things.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s a slight hint of smuttiness. Some drunk dumbasses and a booty grabbing Hayden.

Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

A little something for @ittybitty-rt ! It was truly a pleasure to write this! I had a lot of fun with it!  Hope you like it! ❤️

- It was 2am when your phone goes off. You only know this because it was glaring at you from the lock screen. Along with an interesting message from a certain ‘hello there’ saying gentleman… ‘Vader Repair Kit’. Bring. Hayden’s trailer. Now.’

- “Oh, what the hell now,” you grumble. Begrudgingly rolling out of your nice, cozy bed; you hurriedly throw on the first thing you can find. Grabbing the requested ‘kit’ on your way out.

- This was your job; well, to a certain degree. You’re the on-set medic for the new Obi-Wan series. Normally, during the DAY, you can be found fixing up beaten knuckles…soothing minor burns…maybe even stitching up a wound or two. Pretty much you just keep everyone happy and healthy.

- Simple enough. Except when it comes to a particular pair of grown ass men who act like stupid teens the moment they’re together. Who see absolutely no problem with texting you in the middle of the night. About the most moronic things…aka usually practicing after hours and completely overdoing it.

- However though, that wasn’t the case tonight…

- Before you can even knock, the door flies open. Revealing ‘Dumbass #1’ in all his grinning glory. “D-Darling, you look stunning.”

- Stunning…they must have fucked up good. “Shove the sweet talk, Ewan. Who did what this time?”

- Rubbing the back of his neck, the ‘jedi master’ laughs nervously. The smell of alcohol VERY noticeable on his breath. “Well, y-you see-”

- “Meee, I did!” A familiar voice calls out drunkenly.

- Shooting Ewan a look, you push your way inside. To find…

- ‘Dumbass #2’ sitting on the bed; big, goofy smile on his face. Arms flung wide open. “There’s my angel!”

- Staring blankly, you let out a heavy sigh. “Seriously? Don’t make me regret agreeing to date you.”

- Not paying any mind to the whines of ‘how mean’…or the ungodly adorable pout…you immediately get to work. Pulling out various rehydration items and whatever can possibly lessen the inevitable hangover from your ‘kit’. “All right, dark lord, you know the drill. Just like when you overheat in the Vader suit. Drink and take what I give you. And you’ll be sort of good as new.”

- Right as you’re about to hand him a bottle of what you both so affectionately call ‘blue milk’ and some aspirin. Those arms you’ve been avoiding wind around your hips and… “Heh-heh, booty.” …unceremoniously pull you down onto their owner’s lap.

- “Hay, what the…stop!” You squeak, face all flushed while trying to wiggle out of his hold.

- “No!” He giggles excitedly, squeezing your plush posterior like crazy. “Booty!”

- You hear the sound of Ewan clearing his throat behind you, a slight smirk in his voice. “You h-have this under control. I’ll l-leave you two love birds b-be.” Followed by the trailer door closing. Bastard…so much for being your only hope.

- Barely a second afterwards, Hayden has his face buried in the side of your neck. Nipping and sucking your sensitive skin. Hands still kneading greedily. “He right, ya know. We that…because I loves you.”

- Did he really just say that? You haven’t…he hasn’t… “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying,” you mutter. Scratching the back of his head, doing your best to ignore the awakening beast pressing into your stomach.

- Pulling away, not before giving your collarbone a gentle bite, Hay looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. Whining a bit while not so subtly grinding. “Maaaybe, but don’t mean it not true. I loves my angel. Wanna shows her.”

- Forcing back a soft moan, it takes everything you have to not cave. Sure, you’d love nothing more than to do so; to just tear it up like nobody’s business. But right now…right now he needed you in a whole different way.

- Despite his protests, you untangle yourself and slide out of his lap. “How about this?” You coo, sitting besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. “You drink your ‘blue milk’ and get some rest. And…you can show me as much as you want in the morning. Okay?”

- “Fine,” he huffs, resting his head on your shoulder. “You numb me?”

- Although this isn’t exactly how you pictured the two of you saying it, you can’t help but smile. “Yeah,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head. “I love you too.”

- “Good, because I no give up booty,” Hayden mumbles. Giving aforementioned booty one last good pinch before dozing off.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

[thefreakandthehair]

a project for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang with art by @janie-bean, beginning March 16th on ao3!

“Hey Ed?” Steve murmurs, laying on his back with his ankles crossed and his hands resting on his chest. It’s been hours since he’d last plunged his fingers into dough, but the scent of butter and flour remains. 

“Yeah?” Eddie whispers, turning from his right side to his left.

“What are those birds out there? The ones that keep like, chirping? Or singing?”

“Northern mockingbirds, supposedly. We didn’t really have a lot of them in the trailer park, mostly owls out there by the woods.”

“Mmm,” Steve hums. “How come they chirp at night? Isn’t that supposed to be a morning thing?”

Eddie draws the blankets over his shoulder, tucking it under his chin with his hair framing both cheeks. All that Steve can see in the dark is the soft arch of his lips and the curve of his nose, close enough that Steve can feel his breath and smell the leftover mint from his toothpaste. 

“Wayne said something once about them only singing at night when they’re lonely and trying to attract a mate. I guess they mate for life, so they sing to harken their beloved.” 

One side of Eddie’s mouth pulls up into a tight grin and Steve sees him shrug beneath the blanket. “Not to make it sad as shit, but the poor guy chirping away out there is desperate. I’ve heard him singing for months.” 

The lonely mockingbird sings through the night, long after Steve and Eddie fall asleep, long after the gap closes between them. Unconsciously, Eddie scoots closer and Steve makes room under his arm for him to settle into, cheek to chest. 

Steve sleeps soundly to the song of the mockingbird and the steady cadence of Eddie’s breath.  

[withacapitalp]

Bathtubs, Closets, and Coming Home

For the servers daily prompt today "closet"

Eddie was giggling. 

Steve’s metalhead rockstar badass boyfriend was straight up fucking giggling. 

“Look at this, Sunshine,” He crowed, practically skipping into the ensuite bathroom, “There’s a clawfoot tub. Clawfoot!” 

Steve slowly made his way over to the bathroom, and by the time he was at the doorway, Eddie was lying fully clothed in said clawfoot bathtub. His legs were crossed and his arms were spread wide in front of him, a dragon with a weird porcelain horde. 

“Can you imagine the wicked wild sex we can have in this thing?” Eddie asked in a hushed whisper, his eyebrows waggling up and down. 

“Eddie!” Steve hissed, quickly glancing around to make sure that their realtor wasn’t standing nearby. 

Luckily Sophie seemed to be occupied elsewhere, so Steve felt brave enough to creep closer, linking his fingers with Eddie’s and giving their joined hands a single soft squeeze. From the moment they had set foot in the house, Eddie had been acting like a kid at Christmas, and the last thing Steve wanted to do was ruin his mood by being a sourpuss. 

“You’re not funny,” Steve teased, throwing on a mock pout just because he knew Eddie loved to kiss that look off his face. Sure enough, Eddie immediately sat up, turning to Steve so they were nose to nose, so close that Steve could smell his shampoo. 

“That’s because I’m hilarious,” Eddie declared, quickly smacking a kiss onto Steve’s lips before hauling himself out of the tub and striding back into the master bedroom, “And this place is perfect!”

Perfect. 

Steve’s heart seized up, and he leaned against the tub, trying to force himself to breathe steadily. 

On paper, Eddie was right, the house was perfect. With eight bedrooms, seven bathrooms, an absolutely ginormous kitchen, a gorgeous backyard, and a guest house on property for when any parents come to visit, it was a dream come true. The house had everything that had been on their list, and with Corroded Coffin’s newest single staying at the number one spot for the sixth week in a row, it was well within their price range. 

On paper, this was everything they were looking for. It was perfect. 

And yet here Steve was, standing in a bathroom trying not to have a complete meltdown. 

“I mean, come on!” Eddie shouted, his voice carrying through to the bathroom. Steve forced his body to walk, barely feeling every step he took as he basically frog marched back into the bedroom. 

Eddie was standing with his arms directly out to his sides, trying and failing to touch each side of the doorway to the walk in closet. There was a big fat grin on his face, and in any other moment, Steve would be dying of happiness instead of despair. 

“This closet is bigger than the entire trailer,” Eddie stated, giddy with the exhilaration of someone who had finally found everything they were looking for. Somehow that one single statement was the thing that pushed him over the edge. 

If Steve was a good partner, he would be happy too. He would rush over to Eddie’s side and pull him in close, show him how much he loved the house, and they would be living happily ever after. 

But Steve wasn’t a good partner. Steve was a selfish goddamn brat, and he couldn’t hide how utterly miserable the house was making him. He couldn’t fake a smile and he couldn't make the tears in his eyes go away, no matter how hard he blinked. 

And the worst part was, Eddie- who was the world’s best partner- instantly caught Steve’s shining eyes and wobbling lip. 

“Steve?”

Fuck. 

It was just his name, but it was the way Eddie said it. That soft tone, the gentle voice that was reserved just for Steve and maybe the kids on a particularly bad day. Compassion and love and understanding all wrapped in a sweet Eddie ribbon, an arrow that sailed right over all of his walls and pierced directly into Steve’s heart. 

“Come here,” Eddie commanded, trusting his hand out. Steve was like a puppet on a string, everything he did tied to whatever Eddie wanted. He swayed into the closet, letting his boyfriend pull him into his arms, setting them both down on the floor with care. They ended up sitting side by side on the ground, their backs against the wall, Steve’s head on Eddie’s shoulder with a comforting hand curled in his hair. 

“It’s great,” Steve tried, hating how thin the lie was. He wanted to be able to put on an act, play along for Eddie’s sake, but there was no way it was going to work. 

“You hate it,” Eddie whispered, and there it was. Steve wasn’t able to lie, but neither was Eddie, and the disappointment in his voice was crushing Steve’s lungs. 

“No,” Steve replied immediately. Eddie scoffed, and Steve pulled away, just enough so they could look at each other. He wanted Eddie to know he was honest when he said he didn’t hate the place, because he was being honest. Steve didn’t hate the house, he loved it, but he hated the way it made him feel. 

“It’s not the house, Eddie. The house is great,” Steve trailed off trying to find the words to explain but coming up empty. He sighed shortly, frustrated with himself as the explanation for the strange rolling feeling in his stomach didn’t come. ”I mean it’s exactly what you want. This is the kind of place you’ve been dreaming about since you were a kid.”

“What I want,” Eddie emphasized, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he looked at Steve, “But not what you want?” 

“I’m being stupid,” Steve shot back. When Eddie made a sound and tried to reach out, Steve stopped him, knowing this was important. “No, seriously, Eds. I know I’m being super fucking irrational,”

“What do you think you’re being irrational about, baby?” Eddie asked softly, linking their pinkies and looking at Steve with those big brown eyes. 

“You grew up wanting a house like this. I grew up in a house just like this,” Steve explained, closing his eyes as he did. He wouldn’t be able to look at Eddie as he said it, wouldn’t be able to get through without losing it as he finally got to the heart of why this house scared him so badly, “It wasn’t all it was cracked up to be,”

It was irrational. Eddie wasn’t going to stop loving him the second they bought the house. He wasn’t going to leave Steve alone in a tomb of their own making. They weren’t his parents. 

Steve’s brain understood that, now he just needed to get his heart on board. 

“Oh honey,” Eddie murmured. If it was anyone else, there would be pity there, and Steve wouldn’t be able to help being angry. But it was Eddie, who understood him more than almost anyone, and there was nothing to be upset about. 

“Listen to me Steve Buckley, and listen well” Eddie began, his voice firm and filled to bursting with love. A shiver rolled down Steve’s spine, and a small spark of joy burst in his chest as he heard his full name. Even just that reminder was enough to tell him he was never going to be alone again. No matter what happened, he had Robin. 

“I would be happy if we were living in a shoebox under an underpass. We can stop all this right now and live in the trailer for the rest of our lives. I don’t care where we are, or what we’re doing. I just want to come home to you."

And that was all he needed to hear. Steve already knew that, but now he understood it. Eddie might have to go on tour, or to record, or just need his own space, but this would be their home, and he would always come back to it.

To Steve.

“I love you so much,” Steve whispered, leaning forward for a kiss. It was a chaste thing, small and sweet but carrying the promise of everything that was to come. 

“Well boys?” Their realtor said from the doorway. They instantly broke away, both turning to face her with fear. Sophie was watching them with a knowing smirk, holding her pad and pencil like she already was aware of what they were going to say. 

“We'll take it,” Steve declared. 

[luveline]

Hey, love your work. Sooo, I was thinking, if it's ok, more actress reader and rockstar Sirius. Please, please, please. I'm obsess.

ty for ur request!! rockstar!sirius x actress!reader

You're listening to Sirius' new song —it's all you listen to, at this point— and don't hear the knock at your trailer door. 

There's nothing to do but wait until you're needed again at costuming for more measurements, so you've sequestered yourself away to miss your boyfriend in private. Nails in front of you, you're humming the right words to the wrong verse, pushing your cuticles back with your thumb nail and wishing Sirius were here to tell you off.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?" he asks over your shoulder, the smell of his perfume sudden and heavy in your nose. He sounds pleased despite his scolding. "You'll be in so much trouble with makeup." 

You bolt to your feet. One moment you're looking at him, the next you're throwing your arms around his shoulders, the silly foldout chair you'd been lounging in collapsing to the trailer floor with a thump. 

"When did you get here?" you ask, practically shouting in his ear, your enthusiasm jolting him one side to another. 

"You know I'm around," he says, which means, I came straight here. 

"I missed you so much," you say, still happy, but with that desperate loneliness that pervades whenever he's gone. 

You pull away to check he's real, and he is, and he's handsome, skin tanned by the eastern European sunshine, a golden nose ring glinting in the light. Stubble scratches your hands as you stroke his cheeks, your top lip as you lean up for a loving peck.

"You're really here," you say, stroking his hair behind his ears. 

Sirius laughs and pulls your hands off of him, holding them tight in his, "Alright, don't smother me," he says, not without love. "You have very cold hands." 

"You're meant to be holding them," you croon. 

Sirius takes you in. You preen like a bird having combed all her feathers, knowing the genre of what he might say before he so much as parts his pretty lips. "You look beautiful, my love." 

Cheesy from any other mouth, you flush at his praise and pull him closer to you, your stomachs touching, your chests angled apart. 

He's been touring and you've been working; it's been a good long while since you got to hold his hand. He tries to come home to you as often as he can while you fly out city to city chasing him whenever you aren't contracted, but nothing feels as good as this —he's home. At least for a few months.

"I missed you," he says gently. "I know you already know that, but I really missed you." Sirius steals his hands away to wrap arms around your shoulders, face pressed to the top of your head. "I missed you. Missed you so much." 

Your face fits nicely under his. Sirius might not believe in fate —it wasn't luck that sent you what must have amounted to thousands upon thousands of flowers, a bouquet every day for weeks, nor was it luck that had your thank you notes turning to love letters, the best of which he keeps in his jacket pocket— but you do, you have to, because you fit together perfectly. 

"I missed you, too," you murmur. 

"Can we run away, yet?" he asks. 

"Maybe after reshoots, handsome." 

Sirius takes your face into his hand and lays a heavy kiss on your lips. You squeeze your eyes closed, giggling as his kiss grows heated, insistent at the seam of your lips. You let him deepen the kiss but lean back in the circle of his arms at the pressure, pushed by his enthusiasm into the vanity behind you. 

Bottles and brushes and things collapse. You laugh and break away from his kissing, peering over your shoulder at the mess you've made. 

"It always looks like after an earthquake when you come to see me," you say, so in love that it sounds like a good thing. 

Sirius kisses under your jaw firmly, the pendant hanging from his neck ghosting against your chest with his movement. "Won't matter if I make some more mess then, will it?" he asks between soft kisses. 

"Just don't give me any bruises," you say as he mouths downward, weaving your fingers into his hair. 

"Your makeup girls can cover it." 

"But it's embarrassing," you laugh, tickled by his hand as it slides up the inside of your thigh. He squeezes the softness there greedily. 

Sirius peels away, looking down at you like you've just spun silver in your bare hands. He wrote about it once, a song they never made, how the sound of you laughing from two rooms over made him feel homesick. How having you in arms reach was the only thing he really needed. 

He looks reverential. You relent. "They can probably cover it," you say softly. 

Sirius grins as he dives for your neck, another round of giddy laughter dying on your lips as he promises to show you how much he missed you.