#and his middle name is wayne and i just get happy hearing the name wayne and now I wonder if I should go by that name

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Bruce Wayne, mentor to many- father to none.

I want the angst of B having to come to terms that he doesn't know ANY of his kids not anymore at least and maybe never and the fact his kids are just- used to it?

Visiting Dicks apartment, he finds a picture of him smiling while surrounded by a bunch of little kids in spandax uniforms. Turns out he'd been a gymnastics instructor for about four years now and his most recent team had everyone qualify for state. (Bruce didn't even know he still practiced)

Jason stopped accepting Wednesday night patrols, but when he looked into it he found out that was the night he went to DND nights with his roommates every week. The roommates he met last semester after he decided to go to college and get an english major. (Bruce didn't even know he had applied)

Checking the library he found a small pedastal plague put up by Alfred displaying just one book. It said Cass was the author. Apparently she had gotten super into writing and published a book talking about language deprivation and lack of accomidation for deaf/hoh children born to hearing families. She had a book signing last month, Alfred had gone and grabbed this copy now on display (Bruce didn't even know she liked to write)

Tim finished a case early and let it slip he needed to sign off early to "meet up with his boyfriends" and hung up before Bruce could process. It only took a small glance at his middle child's latest social media post to see him alongside Superboy (what was his name?) and a blonde boy he didn't recognize. Both were leaned in to kiss his cheek and the caption said "Happy 3rd anniversary!!" (Bruce didn't even know he was interested in boys)

Steph's birthday came around and Bruce got her a new account and shoved a couple thousand for her to buy whatever she wanted. But he quickly noticed a pattern of everyone getting her- cat supplies? Apparently She had adopted a cat about a month ago to celebrate her new apartment, Mister Mystery was his name, and she had asked everyone for supplies instead of other gifts. (Bruce didn't even know she had moved)

He decided on some impromptu father-son bonding and tries to track down his youngest. But Damian is nowhere to be found. He gets pretty close to calling an emergency meeting but the moment he messages Oracle she reminds him Damian is in Chicago. Damian had won an art competition at school and his piece qualified for a gallery spot. The entire family had gone days ago and he was due back the next day. (Bruce didn't even know he cared about art)

Then Duke- his youngest in terms of time spent. But one he had grown fond of just as fast as the others. Especially working the day shift the time they spent was limited. Bruce got them both lunch, but it wasn't until halfway through eating that Duke had turned to him with panicked eyes and asked if the stew had shellfish. Duke had a severe allergy, thankfully Jason had been just up the street and had an epi-pen ready before they took him to Leslies. (Bruce didnt even know he had any allergies, let alone one so severe)

The worst part? There was no blow up. His kids didn't take his idiocracy as a personal insult or even raise a fight. They just rolled their eyes and moved on. As everyone crowded in the room, surrounding Dukes bedside he could hear Barbras voice. "Its not your fault, Batman may be omnipotent, but Bruce doesn't know anything really"

He wasnt meant to overhear or maybe he was, Oracle had always been petty But he couldn't refute it.

"But you have us"

Well- thats just it wasnt it? Even when Bruce was absent- his kids had each other. But was that ever meant to be enough?

[ataliagold]

you're the only one who knows, you slow it down

For @astrangersummer week 13 prompts 'cat' and 'farmers market'. Title from Look After You by The Fray. And yes, I watched A Quiet Place Day One and was obsessed with Frodo...

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1791

Tags: Modern AU, No Upside Down, First Meeting, Steve has PTSD, Steve has a service cat, Steve wears glasses, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, panic attacks, Eddie takes care of Steve, referenced child abuse, autistic Steve (not overly relevant here but still)

Summary: Eddie's at a farmers market when he's approached by a very determined black and white cat. On a whim, he follows him to a young man having a panic attack in the woods.

___

Eddie’s browsing the little jewelry stand at the far end of the Farmer’s Market, glancing over hand-made leather bracelets and cheap silver rings while the old lady behind the table watches him hopefully. Over a blare of emergency sirens from the street in the distance he can hear Wayne behind him bartering with someone who’s wanting to buy one of his plants, the plants Eddie had been roped into carting there from the van in boxes that were too fucking heavy and he’d been drenched in sweat almost immediately under the summer sun.

He looks up briefly, regrets it immediately because the vendor’s eyes light up and fuck now he’s gotta buy something…

He’s interrupted by something soft brushing against his ankle.

Hanging up a black leather band, he looks down. Blinks a few times, confused.

There’s a black and white cat butting its little head against his leg. The cat stares back up at him with yellow eyes, wide and imploring.

“Uh….hi?” Eddie says, moving his leg away a bit because he doesn’t really do cats, has never interacted with them much before to be fair, other than the feral ones that hung around the trash in the trailer park and those weren’t exactly…friendly.

This guy is far cuter and cleaner than those cats ever were, though.

He’s got a maroon collar with a tag attached, and a red harness with a loose lead trailing behind him.

The cat steps closer to Eddie. Insistent now, shoving his face into his ankle again, then lets out an imploring meow.

“Where’s your owner?” Eddie asks to no one in particular, swiveling his head and surveying his surroundings. He sees fruit stands with enormous oranges, a honey stall, someone selling flowers off to his right, a small crowd browsing the wares but no one that looks like they’ve lost a black and white cat.

The cat meows again.

Eddie stoops down, gingerly reaches for its collar, reads the tiny writing on the tag in hope of some owners’ details.

Frodo - service cat

And Eddie had heard of service dogs, sure, but a cat?

A great name though, he admits.

He squints at the phone number etched below the name. Pulls out his phone, dials it. All the while Frodo meows at him, slams his head more forcefully into Eddie’s shin.

The call rings out to a voicemail, a guy called Steve in the message.

Eddie hangs up. Sighs, carefully pats the cat with a single finger on his head.

“You’re kinda cute, huh?” Eddie murmurs. “Someone’s missing you, for sure.”

He stands up again. Frodo moves several steps away, stops, stares back at him.

A lightbulb goes off in Eddie’s head.

He takes a step towards the cat. Frodo squeaks out a noise that seems happy to Eddie, and he steps even closer.

Frodo turns tail and trots off away from the market, and Eddie follows, Frodo glancing back every now and then to check Eddie’s still with him.

And so, the cat leads him towards a little copse of trees on the far side of the park. It’s pretty deserted out here, with most people busy browsing the market instead of taking their morning walks.

But as they get closer to the clearing in the middle of the trees, Eddie hears it.

Light gasps, panicked breathing, someone trying to suck in oxygen that just won’t come.

He quickens his step towards it. Frodo speeds up too, breaking away from Eddie now and bounding into the trees.

There’s a young man sitting in the dirt.

His knees are pulled to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them, and he’s rocking back and forth a little. His cheeks are wet, eyes clenched shut behind crooked glasses.

Eddie drops to his knees beside the man, hand hovering above his shoulder, not sure whether or not to touch because he knew a thing or two about panic attacks, knew this was what he was seeing, didn’t want to frighten the man and make it worse…

Frodo presses himself up against the man’s side, trills quietly. The man shifts, blindly reaches for the cat, unfolds himself a bit and hauls the animal into his lap, burying his face in warm fur.

“…hi,” Eddie says quietly, barely audible, clears his throat and tries again. “Hi. I’m…I’m Eddie.”

The man goes still. Freezes, noticing Eddie for the first time. He peeks out from behind Frodo’s head, blinking up at Eddie, eyes red and sore-looking but also honey-brown and soft. He’s got moles dotted across his cheeks, hair long and mussed and falling across his face.

He’s fucking gorgeous, Eddie’s brain supplies.

He forces that thought away – it’s not exactly helpful right now.

“Are you Steve?” Eddie guesses.

A small, singular nod.

“I found your cat,” Eddie supplies. “Or…he found me, I guess. Led me here. He’s pretty clever.”

“He’s the b-best,” Steve croaks, his voice raspy and rough and broken. “He’s a service cat. But you can…you can go, s’fine.”

Eddie frowns, shakes his head. “I’m thinking he came and got me for a reason, huh?”

Steve looks away, shrugs.

Eddie waits, gives him time to answer, but Steve doesn’t speak again. He hugs his cat to his chest, still lightly trembling all over.

“How about…I sit here for a few minutes, and you take some deep breaths, huh? I’m thinking you’ve had a panic attack, and those suck – trust me, I know – but you need to get your breath back, ok?” Eddie reaches for Steve, hand ghosting over his shoulder now.

Steve flinches lightly, but doesn’t pull away.

Frodo purrs away calmly in Steve’s lap, letting his owner squeeze him close.

And Eddie sits, and waits.

He remembers his own panic attacks as a kid, after he’d wake up from a nightmare about his dad – where he swore the stench of alcohol was in his room, when his dad was surely just outside his bedroom door, all tension wound tight and clenched fists and ready to unleash a barrage of abuse at him. His uncle Wayne would step quietly into his room, would gather him up and hold him tight, would talk to him quietly about everything and nothing all at once until Eddie drifted peacefully back to sleep.

As the minutes tick by, Eddie starts to talk.

“I don’t know much about cats, but yours is pretty clever,” he murmurs, rubbing circles across Steve’s broad back, over the soft yellow sweater he was wearing. “He came right up to me, no idea why he picked me out of a crowd of nice old ladies at the market, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer, he insisted on getting me to you. I guess that’s his job, right? Just like how some service dogs are trained to go and get someone if their owner is in trouble? I used to have this neighbour, this girl called Max, she had some disabilities after a car accident, and she had a dog who was trained to do that sort of stuff. But you’ve got Frodo.”

Steve’s breathing is evening out, his shoulders untensing slightly as Eddie speaks.

“Badass name, by the way,” Eddie continues, chuckling a little. “I’m guessing you’re a Lord of the Rings fan, then. So am I. In fact, it’s probably my favourite -”

“Not a fan,” Steve mumbles.

Eddie pauses mid-sentence. “…oh,” he finishes lamely.

Steve shifts a little, the tiniest smile twitching at his lips.

Eddie’s heart thumps in his chest at the sight of it.

“This kid I used to babysit, his name’s Dustin, he picked the name,” Steve clarifies, his voice a little clearer now, a little less forced. “It just kinda stuck.”

“It suits him,” Eddie assures him, reaching a hand out to the cat. He quickly snatches it back, remembers Max telling him over and over that you weren’t supposed to pat a service animal when they’re working. “Sorry,” he says quickly, “I didn’t mean to…well. He’s working.”

Steve smiles, wider now.

Eddie blinks slowly at him, feeling stupid and warm and weak for this man.

“You can pat him,” Steve says quietly, just above a whisper. He unfolds his legs, loosens his grip on Frodo just a little, giving Eddie room to reach across to the cat.

Eddie grins as his fingers find soft fur. He traces over Frodo’s head and the cat purrs louder, pressing back into his hand.

Steve watches, tears drying on his cheeks. He lifts his glasses, rubs at his eyes, then straightens them again.

“It was the sirens,” he says, a little choked up still.

Eddie nods slowly, continues to pat Frodo.

“Over on Main Street, I think, I was walking past and they were really loud, and then more and more started and then there was that fire engine too and all the flashing lights and…”

Eddie heard it earlier, too. Some crash near the park, the ladies at the market had gossiped amongst themselves.

“…and I tried to move away, but they were everywhere so I went into the trees and that was a little better but I could still hear them, and I know it’s fucking stupid but some stuff happened to me a few years back and now every time I hear them…” Steve trails off, snaps his mouth shut. Runs his hand rhythmically down Frodo’s back, almost meditatively now. “Sorry. S’dumb. But…I’m ok now, I think.”

Eddie splays his free hand across Steve’s back. Thinks about how much he’d like to pull Steve to his side, bundle him close, wrap himself around him…but they’ve only just fucking met.

He needs to calm down.

“It isn’t dumb,” Eddie insists gently, “I used to get them too. Panic attacks. I get it, ok? I’m just glad you’re ok now.”

Steve smiles at him, wobbly and weak but there.

“Thanks,” he says softly, “for following Frodo. And for…staying.”

Eddie returns his smile. Reaches for the man’s hand, clasps it, helps him to shaky feet.

Steve doesn’t let go of his hand.

They linger there, under the shade of the red maple trees, neither saying anything for a long moment.

Frodo sits at their feet. Blinks up at them, meows eventually.

Steve picks up Frodo’s lead, one hand still in Eddie’s, fiddles with the red canvas cord.

Eddie’s heart beats faster.

“Do you…wanna come and look around the stalls?” he asks quietly, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand not held securely in Steve’s, thinks he’d be happy if he could never use that hand again, so long as Steve kept a hold of it.

Steve smiles again, bright as the sun, and nods.

Slowly, he follows Eddie out of the clearing and back into the light of the day.

___

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Halloween prompts year 2 day 29

Dont get him wrong, Danny had some big feelings about finding out his mom had cheated on his dad. He had even bigger feeling about the divorce and the whole shipping him off to live with his bio dad.

He wasn't going to lie. The new school was actually really nice and he had made friends quickly, though at first it was tough to weed out the ones who just wanted to get close to the Wayne family name and not him as a person. He didn't get to chat with Tucker and Sam a whole lot due to thier schedules but he and Jazz always made time for eachother.

His life had surprisingly taken a massive upturn. Vlad had been arrested soon after Danny warned the Waynes about him, making Danny believe either his dad it felt wierd calling him that but da-Jack made it perfectly clear he should never call him that was Batmans sugar daddy or somthing or maybe the Waynes got kidnapped so much that the bats bugged the whole place. Danny hoped not, he had done a whole karaoke thing with Jazz during thier video call the other night and he really didn't want anyone to hear thier shared cat screeching.

Jazz was super happy to learn Danny had joined the Volleyball team and Astronomy club. He used to play Volleyball in middle school and played defense a lot. He was even the best on the team but he stopped playing after one too many times of his parents forgetting to show up or causing a ruckus whenever they thought a ghost was nearby.

But it was better now

The portals were shut down by the bats. The GIW where expertly obliterated from existence. His parents are getting court mandated mental help. There are no more ghosts. No more ghost hunters.

And no need for Phantom

Danny doesn't think he's ever felt this free. He could go out to eat with friends with his way too big allowance that his...dad gives him and he didn't have to worry about having to ditch them to go fight a bad guy. He could eat dinner with a family who was a little awkward but surprisingly open to him and the food was delicious and didn't attack him. He could actually sleep at night and feel safe doing it. His siblings liked spending time with him and getting to learn anout him and thier "bonus sister" Jazz.

He had no reason to use his powers.

Until the grandfather clock he was walking past swung open like a door and he locked eyes with Nightwing coming out of it. They just stared at eachother before Danny just said, "I don't want to know which one your dating. Just know I have a bat and im willing to use it in the most ungodly of ways." And walked back to his room.

He wouldn't be a superhero, but he was willing to be a supervillian to protect his new family. Or in this case make sure Nightwing, a rumored playboy, knew better than to go breaking hearts in this household.

[lavendermunson]

bells - eddie munson

day 11 of leia's christmas tree farm

cw fluff. eddie is a BIG softie and a cat lady. allusions to sex. established relationship. no y/n or body descriptions you know the deal.

Eddie gets excited whenever he sees a stray cat around his trailer, one part of his pantry is designed to keep the cans of food for them. He has named all of them and it’s unusual for all the cats to reunite at the same time but he is grateful for it. 

If he could, he would give them a home to live in and a room for them to sleep all together. He would fill them with food, and spoil them with toys and cuddles. 

When you come to see him, he is standing on the steps of the trailer. His arms crossed in front of his chest as he looked at her neighbor feeding the cats, his cats

“What’s up with you? Baby, you are going to freeze out here!” 

Even with four layers of clothes on, you are shivering. And Eddie doesn’t make it any better, the sight of him standing with only a cardigan on, his plaid pajama pants with a Santa Claus hat on makes you shiver more. 

“Baby?” you call for him, waving your hand to catch his attention. His pouty lips and frown were dedicated to her neighbor. 

“She stole my babies!” Eddie whines.

“Eds, she is a kid” 

“She stole them! I fell asleep and I'm pretty sure they scratched the door but I didn't answer in time and they went with her!” He sees all of his furry children reunited in front of someone else’s door. You know how upset Eddie gets whenever she feeds him, he doesn’t care if she is ten years old. Those are his children. 

“I get it. But if you keep standing here you are going to freeze and they are going to lose their dad” 

He grunts when you push him inside the trailer, using all of your strength as he stands as a marble statue. 

“Traitors! I'm going to get the expensive cans and eat them myself!” he screams at them, watching as the little girl sticks her tongue out towards Eddie “She is evil, I'm telling you!”

“Eddie, she is a child!” you slap his arm. 

“An evil child, those exist!”

You roll your eyes at him, taking your jacket off and feeling the warmth of the trailer. He watches as you look at his trailer's door, then goes around the trailer to get Wayne’s measuring tape and a notebook. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, following every movement you make. 

“Shh…” you focus on doodling in the notebook, writing down the measurements you took and planning on something Eddie doesn’t know yet. 

He sees your focused face, brows knit in a frown and your tongue sticking out as you work through the paper. 

“You look so hot when you-“

“I have an idea, look” you interrupt, making your way to his side. He drops his gaze to the notebook, watching you explain your plan. One of his arms hugs your body, keeping you closer. “If we get a bell and train them to hit it when they get here, you’ll hear the bell in your room and get up to see them. That way they go to you first”

“I’ll get those little traitors. You are so smart, princess” he leans in to kiss your lips, brushing his tongue against your bottom lip to catch the taste of your chapstick. “Let’s go get our things”

After spending a few days building the kitty alarm as your boyfriend called it, he explained to his band of cats. It took more days to get them used to it, but as they came by Eddie made sure every one of them knew how to ring the bell. 

One day, the bell above his head rings four or five times, indicating his kids were there. He gets up so fast, opening the door of his trailer just to see everyone there. Eddie gets inside to prepare their little bowls of food to give to the cats, he smiles proudly as everyone eats happily. 

When he sees you arrive, you notice all of his cats lying around in front of his trailer. Some of them are still eating, a couple plays with one of Eddie’s old socks and one of them jumps around. You giggle as you watch him so happy, showing his middle finger to his little neighbor who happens to mirror him with a jealous look on her face.

“I did it, baby, all thanks to you” He wraps his arms around you, squeezing you and pushing you inside the trailer as he kisses the top of your head. “Your plan worked, all of them are here”

You can get enough of his smile, and the shine in his eyes. You step back and hold yourself with a tight grip on his wrists, feeling his pulse under your fingertips as he gets so excited. 

“I'm glad it did, you can finally pay attention to your girlfriend!” you kiss the top of his nose. 

“You saved our family”

“Our?”

“Yes, you are the mom! oh wait, I have a gift for you”

You see Eddie run to his room and back, his curls bouncing as he returns with a small box in his hands.

“I know Christmas is just around the corner but I want to give this one gift to you right now. My baby deserves a reward after helping me with this”

Eddie’s hands come to rest on your waist as you open the gift. When you discard the top of the box you see a pink bell. Your head leans to the side, confused. 

“A bell?”

“Not any kind of bell, read what it says”

You get the bell out, throwing the box at the couch. “Ring for sex?” you giggle, shaking your head as your boyfriend looks at you. 

“Sick, right?” he grins. 

“Baby, I'm not a stray cat who rings a bell for your attention!”

“Oh, sweetheart. I know you are not, I'm giving you all the power to decide when we should fuck!” 

“What if you are not in the mood?”

“Are you kidding, with a goddess as my girlfriend always in the mood baby”

You laugh, looking down at the bell. He tries to kiss your lips but you get away from his arms, walking towards his bed. He follows you until he sees you close to the mattress, leaning against the door frame. 

“What are you doing? Baby?” he asks, looking at you as you turn around on your heels. “Are you mad at me?”

You shake your head, biting your lip and shaking the bell above your head. The ringing is music to his ears, throwing himself at you and tackles you down to his bed. 

He sits on top of you, pressing soft kisses against your cheeks. His fingers graze against your face, getting the hair out of the way to kiss you even more.

“I rang the bell for you to fuck me, not to kiss me softly”

“Oh, got it boss. I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow!”

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event 🎄 requests will close tomorrow December 28th!

[steviewashere]

Leaving is Hard, But Loving You is Easy

Rating: General CW: None Apply Tags: Post-Canon, Post Season 4, Future Fic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Eddie Munson is Leaving Town, Saying Goodbye, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Kisses, Making Out, Love Confessions, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington

💕—————💕 He watches Eddie Munson leave in the middle of a Wednesday evening, 1991. It’s just turned 6:10PM and the sunlight is dipping low. There’s a chill in the air. Though he’s wearing a sweater, the breeze is felt more with the expected absence that will be left. Maybe he shouldn’t have befriended the guy over the last several years. If it meant he’d be standing and staring at the guy’s back. Watching him lug boxes into a van that’s probably older than the both of them. Toying with the collar of his sweater like the soothed over fabric will warrant him to not be so lonely. Maybe it doesn’t help that it smells like cigarettes. Steve doesn’t smoke anymore.

“That’s everything, I think. Well, I’m hoping,” Eddie’s saying, turning around. His voice is low and raspy tonight. Like it is when it’s been overused. Makes sense, considering he’d been talking through goodbyes and big plans and sincere farewells. Steve’s the last on his list. He’s not sure whether to feel heartbroken or…Who is he kidding? Of course he’s heartbroken.

One doesn’t become friends with somebody like Eddie Munson and then not be overcome with emotion when he leaves. But also. He doesn’t want to just be friends. Steve holds to himself, tight around the elbows, hunching inwards. Maybe if he’s small, the leaving will hurt less. He also doesn’t allow himself to look. Instead focused on a spot of rust on the van’s bumper. At the brand new DMV sticker on his license plate; it won’t expire for a while now. When he’s not even in Hawkins anymore. When he’s long gone elsewhere.

Eddie sits down right where Steve’s looking. Legs extended in front of him. A cigarette dangling between his chapped lips. Not even lit up. He doesn’t have a lighter right now anyway. Steve should know, Eddie’d been complaining about it for the last three days. He mumbles around the stick, “I’m not going to miss this place.”

“Really?” Steve finds himself asking. Though, he realizes it comes out more as a sigh. A breath. A certain type of mourning. He zeroes in on the knee hole of Eddie’s jeans. Large and manmade. Rippling on the edges and cinched oddly from strings of taut denim that Eddie has since plucked away. Probably from toying with the hole too much. From being restless on Steve’s couch during movie nights or birthed from slow lulls in Dungeons & Dragons campaigns or simply made from being shoved over in games of tag at Hopper’s barbecues.

“Well, yeah, Stevie,” Eddie says. As if it should be obvious. “People don’t like me ‘round here. I’ve felt that way for years. Now it’s my chance to leave.” He sighs through his nose. Like he’s actually smoking the cigarette in his mouth. Then, he continues quietly, “The only good thing to come out of…That hellhole and everything…Was the money to keep me silent. Put it away safely. Now, I’m gonna use it to find myself in a place where I’ll just be a speck. Nobody knows me, that kind of shit.”

Steve nods slowly. Agreeing minutely. If only because Eddie wants him to. “There’s not going to be anything you’ll miss about Hawkins?” Why does a part of him want to hear Eddie say his name?

He shrugs. “I mean I’ll miss having band practice with my buddies. And the Hellfire Club because I started it, y’know? I’ll always have an ache in my heart towards Wayne and the trailer, the first place that ever felt like home.” Eddie plucks the cigarette from his mouth and rolls it back and forth between his index finger and thumb. Both ends are practically dry. He’s staring at it. Contemplating. Then, he sighs mournfully. “I’ll miss the first day I came here. How everything was small yet meaningful. How after a week of walking around town, the folks at all the stores knew my name and my favorite things. Benny…Back at Benny’s Diner, you know the place, he had my favorite order down. I’ll miss the people nobody knows anymore.”

But then he looks dead on at Steve. And Steve burns with how intense everything has come to be. In the space of reconstruction after what such disaster he’s experienced, Eddie’s eyes and his bared soul are enough to nearly knock him down. Take the wind out of him for the moment.

“I will always miss the people here, Steve,” he rasps. “The ones that mattered.”

Steve swallows. “Makes sense,” he musters. Then, he does something he knows will destroy him, he sits down next to Eddie. Shoulder, hip, the outside of their opposite feet connecting in a warm line. His clothed elbow scratches roughly on Eddie’s bare one. He looks out at the space in front of him. The dirt road that gives the idea of a driveway to Forest Hills. At the dead grass that has since wilted from the winter weather. He notices the imprint of their shoes. Dangerously close together. He sighs.

Eddie’s quiet next to him. No longer fiddling with the cigarette. Still where he sits. Stoic in thought. “You’re the best of them,” he whispers.

Steve hums questioningly.

“You,” Eddie says, again like it should be obvious. “Steve, you’re one of my favorite people. Did you know that?”

“No,” he murmurs. “No, I didn’t know that.”

Gently, Eddie nudges his shoulder. Knocking them loose, but settling back warmly. Like he can’t get enough of them touching. Simply sitting there. Doing nothing. Saying goodbye. “Well, you are. You changed my whole worldview. Taught me how to be a better friend. To rid of a lot of my stupid high school bullshit. You’ve—“ He takes a moment to himself. A silence. Contemplating again. Searching. “—You’ve been there. For me. For everybody. A guiding hand. A voice in the darkness of a nightmare. A fixture. You’re wonderful. An experience that I don’t think I’ll ever—“ His next word is muffled.

Muted by Steve’s mouth on his. A hand to Eddie’s cheek, cupping him. Another to the back of his head, tangling hair around his fingers, pushing them together. He moves his lips slowly. Savoring. How Eddie’s lips are slightly cracked, yet plush soft. The breath that puffs onto the corner of his mouth from Eddie’s nose, apparent in the way their heads are angled to meet each other. He doesn’t explore with his tongue. Not at all. Leaving this to the simple movements of one another, the carnivorous way he tastes Eddie. Placating this goodbye with years worth of emotion and yearning, bottled up in his ribcage, and overflowing like a rolling boil.

Though when he takes a breath, he’s forced instead to gasp. To hiccup. To sob. Eddie carefully grasps him by the cheeks. Pulling him back enough to take a deep, swallowing, consuming breath. His thumbs tickle under Steve’s eyes. Patting at the warm skin. The edges of his fingernails gently press into the soft give of his bottom eyelids.

“Stevie?” He questions lowly. “Sweetheart, you’re…You’re crying.”

He sniffles noisily. His hand crumples in Eddie’s hair, probably tugging at the strands, but it’s not shown on Eddie’s face. Instead of answering, he dives back in. Pressing more firmly. Squishing the tip of his nose in Eddie’s left cheek. Slicking their chins with his spit. Stuttering through gasps, sobbing on his lips, squinting with every soft cry. He can’t even fully see Eddie’s face. Not his eyes, which he fell in love with first. Or the way his cheeks are lighting up red, given by the warmth radiating onto Steve’s own skin. He can’t see and he can’t breathe, but he’d be damned if he stopped right now. His other hand moves down to the side of Eddie’s neck, squeezing as if attempting to choke him out. The rapid thrum of Eddie’s pulse under his thumb. He thinks if he were to die in this kiss, he could be resuscitated by Eddie’s beating heart alone.

While Eddie is enthusiastic to respond, his eyes don’t close in bliss. And he doesn’t move further into Steve’s space. If anything, he’s inching away. Pulling again at Steve’s head. Forcing them apart. “Steve, you don’t want to—“

“You’re everything,” Steve is sobbing out. “Everything to me.” He swallows harshly. His tongue is heavy with saliva and emotion. “You stayed here with me after…After all the bullshit. When Robin left for school. And everybody graduated. When they moved on,” he’s rambling. He should stop. Get himself in line. Try to make sense of every word falling from between his lips. But he can’t grasp them. They flow. They spill. He’s boiling.

“Baby, I’m going, too,” Eddie cooed sadly. “I’m not staying here.”

“I know. I know, Eds, I know,” Steve mutters. He gasps through a hiccup, reigning in his tears, at least slightly. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Tell me what, Steve?”

He bounces his eyes back and forth between Eddie’s. Their roundness. And the dark encompassing color to them. How they pull him in like black holes. He could probably destroy Steve, especially with what is said next.

“I’m in love with you,” Steve confesses. “I’ve been in love with you,” he reiterates, voice cracking and wet and too thick. “For years, Eds.”

The hands on his cheeks slither down to his shoulders. For a moment, his head is heavy enough to careen him to the side. His head resting on the closed back door. He looks on with half-lidded eyes and a shiver against his spine. Eddie’s looking low at Steve’s chest, where his heart is. He squeezes the sweater material under his hands.

He swallows heavily in the stilled silence. Whispers, “I’m flattered, Steve—“ And Steve straightens back up, flailing a little to get out of this hold. To make his escape. To just leave when he isn’t wanted. But Eddie holds to him harshly. Keeping him still. “—I really am. But what you said doesn’t change my mind. I’m leaving.”

“Tell me, then,” Steve shoots. His voice flat. Lifeless.

“Tell you…”

“That you love me, too. Please tell me that.”

Eddie sighs again. His hands pressing harder on Steve’s shoulders. If it’s not his eyes, then Steve will gladly be ruined by Eddie’s hands. “Steve. That’s not a good idea.” He states it like it’s factual.

To hell with that.

“Then lie to me,” Steve pleads. “You don’t have to mean it. Just tell me—“

“I don’t want to lie to you, Steve. And besides, I’d only be lying to myself if I said it like that,” Eddie says. He moves his left palm up to Steve’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead. Tickling it down to where it touches the tops of his shoulders. Moves back up and dully scratches at his scalp. “I do love you, Steve. I do. I love you with every muscle in my body and every freckle on my skin. But…Sweetheart, you’re staying here. I’ll be elsewhere. And I know how you are in relationships. You like being near. You like being able to touch and cherish and hold. You like waking up next to them. You like having a person with you.”

Sometimes knowing Eddie Munson means being known back. And Steve should’ve realized that. He’s been privy to it thousands of times over the last five years. He’s been pulled from his darkest thoughts because of Eddie’s perceptive nature. He’s been taken care of in a lot of aspects. Distracted when he’s bored. Cherished when he’s lack luster.

He moves his own hands down to his lap. Folding them together so he doesn’t do something more stupid than what he’s already done. Something like hold on and never let go. Because Eddie isn’t his. And sure. Maybe they do love each other. Madly. Deeply. Infatuated practically. But Eddie’s right. He’s right and Steve hates that.

“You’re everything to me,” Steve murmurs. “I can’t just let you leave.”

Eddie sighs. A grievance. “Then we’re at a stalemate, baby. I can’t stay.”

“Then take me with you,” Steve says back. Quick as a bullet. Even his words surprise him. He startles back slightly. But his eyes remain on Eddie’s.

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Before Eddie blinks. Harshly. Tilting his head to the side. “Are you…You’re not just saying that, right? Do you actually want to leave? Because you didn’t want to before.”

Steve nods. “What’s left for me here anyway, right? I can just go to my house, pack my clothes, the few actual things I have, and we can go.”

This time, it’s Eddie who devours. Swooping in. Sucking on Steve’s lips. Nibbling. Holding onto him as to never let him go again. He barely moves to breathe. But when he does, it’s to whisper, “I would’ve loved you still anyway.”

“Hm?”

“If you didn’t want to come with. I still would’ve loved you. I would wait forever.”

“Well. I don’t want to keep you waiting. Help me pack?”

Eddie’s hands drift to his. He holds. Their fingers tangled. “As long as you won’t regret doing this.” His thumb is warm on the back of Steve’s left hand. It’s kind of funny. How big and moving Eddie seems to always be. Though, in this moment, every ounce of him is dedicated to devotion. To soft caresses and softer words.

Steve gives him a small smile. “The only thing I regret is not telling you that I love you sooner. Come on, Eds.” He tugs on their conjoined hands. “My life starts with you.”

💕—————💕 I thought about them not getting together. I thought about writing it so that Steve's love was unrequited. But I spared you. For today. Maybe not next time. We'll see.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiemas Day 18 -  Classic Christmas Songs (The First Nöel)

pairing: steddie | word count: 1,924 | rated: G

It didn’t take too long after the song started for Eddie to want out.

He debated staying, just to listen to Steve sing along to it under his breath while he meticulously weaved strips of dough over a pie with what Eddie thinks is way too huge a mound of blueberries, but even that didn’t help.

Steve’s ‘everyone over for Christmas dinner before Christmas’ idea made Eddie skeptical at first, having literally everyone (the Hendersons, Mrs. Wheeler along with Nancy, Mike, and Holly, The Sinclairs, the Hopper-Byers clan, Gareth and Freak along with Jeff and his mom, the Buckleys (of course), and even he and Wayne) together under one roof seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

But no.

Everyone got along great, the lot of them snacking on meats and cheeses, stolen candy and cookies that Steve had made over the last couple days, Wayne, Hop, and Claudia are fussing over two whole turkeys and a huge ham, and Joyce, Karen and Lucas are whipping up huge batches of side dishes.

And it doesn’t usually affect him this bad anymore, but that damned song paired with all of their huge chosen family together under one roof like this, warm, happy, healthy…he had to leave. 

He did not want to get emotional in front of them.

The sound of the door sliding on its track breaks Eddie’s reverie. It was longer than he thought it’d take for someone to come looking for him, but he suspects that it was done on purpose.

He doesn’t look back at who decided to grace him with their presence, but immediately knows who it is when a hat gets pushed down onto his head, just a bit too far down.

“You’re not catching a cold on my watch, Munson.”

Eddie pushes the fold of the knit cap off his eyes, “Wasn’t planning on it Steve-o.”

“Coulda fooled me. As if trying to withstand a whole winter in a leather jacket isn’t gonna give you a cold.”

A snort of a laugh escapes Eddie’s lips at Steve’s sarcastic tone. “I have, and no colds yet.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Steve says, sitting down beside him.  “That’s why you borrowed my old puffer coat last time you were here, right?”

The lone poolside chair not packed away for the season wasn’t his first choice of seating, but it was the only one. Though Steve’s dry heat beside him is already a welcome balance to the cold metal and plastic of the chair.

Eddie’s lips twitch up into a brief smile, “I didn’t want to get mine all wet.”

They fall silent after that, and Eddie fishes his lighter and pack of Marlboro’s out of his pocket, pulling one out of the carton and lighting it up.

He offers one to Steve, but he waves him off.

“So.” Steve says after about half the cigarette was gone.

“So?”

“Are you alright, Eddie?”

He stays silent, debating whether or not to actually tell Steve what was wrong or just brush it off again.

“Was it something I–we said? Or did?” Eddie caught the slip, and decided he was going to tell him, but Steve continued on, “I know you’re not the biggest fan of Christmas anyway..”

“No, it’s not—” Eddie heaves a sigh, and even he can hear the exasperated relenting in it. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Steve. None of you did.”

He takes a drag and blows out a long stream of steamy breath and smoke. It hits him then, before he even speaks, that he’s being dramatic. Has been being dramatic. What a stupid thing to get emotional about.

“My middle name is Nöel. Like, fully, exactly how it’s supposed to be spelled for the holidays. The two dots over the O and everything. So it’s just me being dramatic; it gets annoying to hear all season.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s gotten away with it, that Steve’s silence is just satisfied understanding, but just before he’s about to put himself back on the right way to go back inside, Steve speaks again.

“Where’d the name come from?”

Eddie finally looks over at him, taking in the comically mismatched pink My Little Pony scarf (Erica’s) and bright safety green beanie (Robin’s) he’d thrown on before coming out to the patio. “..Huh?”

Eloquent as ever, Munson.

“C’mon man.” Steve says, rolling his eyes fondly and nudging Eddie’s shoulder with his own. “You act like I don’t know you.”

Eddie’s “You don’t.” is automatic.

Steve just scoffs, “You disappeared without a word, man; normally you announce, with wildly different levels of dramatics each time, that you’re going to smoke, or you ‘gotta take a leak’. You didn’t do that this time so naturally that means this was more than just getting annoyed by a Christmas carol.”

Eddie blinks at him. Stunned by the proof that he, Eddie Munson, was one of the people Steve used his almost insane levels of observation on after all. Usually it’s wasted on the kids; Steve’s acute ability to hone in on exactly what each of the party needs at any given time—how Steve has encyclopedic knowledge on each of their favorite snacks, their preferred drinks, games, movies, which blankets they like to steal from the Harringtons’ nearly bottomless linen closet—almost always goes unappreciated. 

“I may not get a lot of things, but I do pay attention to the people I care about.” Steve continues on, voicing Eddie’s thoughts.

“You a mind reader now too, Harrington?”

Steve grins at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nah man, I’m just a damn good babysitter.”

Eddie huffs out another laugh, “Sorry to tell ya this, but I don’t need to be babied or sat.”

He doesn’t say anything more, just waits for Eddie to continue.

“It was my mom.” Eddie finally concedes, “She gave me the name Nöel. So you kinda hit it on the head, there is more to it than just the song.

“Wayne says she chose it because she loved the season, that it was when she felt most at peace no matter what else was going on in her life.”

Steve is quiet beside him, just existing in the space while Eddie finishes off his cigarette.

“And that’s why I get so salty about Christmas. It’s not because she died around this time of year, which doesn’t help of course, it’s because she loved the holiday so much. I mean,” he snorts, “She named me after it after all. So this time of year always felt so wrong without her.”

He stubs the flame under his boot, scrubbing it into the concrete and promising himself he’ll come back for the butt later (he’ll forget). 

The younger man is silent for two more breaths.

“Eddie, I am so sorry..”

All he can do is shrug, “It’s fine Steve, I’m used to that song by now–well, I was.”

“What changed?”

Eddie lets out another steadying breath. “When I was little, down in Tennessee, it was worse because I was little. All the crafts and games and things they did with first and middle names in elementary school y’know?” He sees Steve nod out of the corner of his eye. “The kids down there would sing the damn song at me to make fun of me. After I came up here to live with Wayne it got better…kinda.

“The kids here didn’t know what my middle name was, and Wayne would switch the radio station if that godforsaken song would come on come December, but even then, every time it did come up…it was like a pointed little finger poked into the bruise left behind after mom died.” Eddie says, jabbing the air in front of him with his own finger in a harsh movement before letting his hand drop back down to his lap. “It was starting to get better, hearing my name like that.”

“How so?” Steve’s voice lilts into something eager, but just barely.

Eddie sucks in a deep breath and the cold, dry air burns his nose as he does.

“You.” he states, using all the breath he’d taken in on the one word. 

“Me?” Steve asks in disbelief.

“Ever since I found out that you also think November 1st means Christmas decorations need to be up.” Eddie nods, he wasn’t about to tell him about the soupy gut feeling he’d gotten when he heard Steve singing along to that stupid fuckin’ song. “Annoying, but it was the same when I was little.

“You should see the pictures,” he grins, continuing on, “A little Batman helping mom put up the tree because I didn’t want to take off my costume–even slept in it a couple times, waking up the next morning to hot chocolate, candy canes, and popcorn garlands.”

“That’s adorable.” Steve laughs, and Eddie laughs with him, his chest feeling miles looser than when he first came out here.

They’re silent for a bit, listening to the muffed yells of the kids coming from inside about who knows what.

“I’ll follow Wayne’s example,” Steve says eventually. “I’ll make sure to change the station, won’t sing it any—”

“Nah, no way man. You don’t have to do that. Like I said, it was getting better.”

“Still, I don’t want to make you upset.”

“Don’t worry about it Stevie,” he sniffs, looking over the empty pool, “I like when you sing it.” he admits before he can stop himself. 

Aw fuck.

“You do?”

 “I do.” 

What the fuck are you doing?!

“You do.” Steve states as if he doesn’t believe him.

Eddie nods silently, gulps around the nerves in his throat. “It’s stupid, but it’s like you’re singing about me rather than at me. It’s…nice.”

Steve falls quiet, so he turns to face him again; Steve’s eyes are wide, cheeks red from the cold and otherwise pale.

Shocked. And not in a good way.

“Just don’t tell any of the other jerks, ‘kay?” Eddie laughs, it comes out strained. “They’d definitely be singing it at me if they found out.”

Steve’s face thaws into something softer at that, his lips twitch like they want to smile. 

“Also, I hardly doubt Henderson’s got nearly as good a voice as you do.”

That finally melts him completely, “Henderson’s actually got some pipes on him.” he laughs softly and knocks his shoulder into Eddie’s. “You should hear his Madonna.”

“Yeah no. No thank you.” Eddie says as he stands, “C’mon Stevie, let’s go back in and eat. It’s time to eat already, right?” He offers him a hand.

Steve takes it and pulls himself up, “After you, Edward Nöel.” he does a sarcastic half-bow, waving Eddie forward.

Eddie scoffs at him, but starts toward the door nevertheless. “That’s not even what Eddie’s short for.”

“Aw, what?! What’s it short for?”

“Nuh uh, I already bared one part of my soul tonight.” (“Aw come on!”) Maybe I’ll tell you after we’ve been friends for another nine months or so.”

Steve laughs as they reach the sliding door. “Lookin’ forward to it, Eds.” 

Eddie’s about to slide it open when Steve suddenly stops him, grabbing his wrist.

“Wait–Eddie, before we go back inside, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Shoot.” he turns to face him properly.

Eddie watches Steve’s eyes flicker over his face. They hover somewhere below his nose before coming back up to lock onto his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?’

“C–can you kiss– What?! Why? When—”

Steve stops Eddie's spluttering when he tilts his head back to look above them.

God. Damn. Mistletoe.

yes, my first name is noelle. why do you ask? no, no, of course i didn't give eddie that middle name just to vent about that damn song... 😳😅

other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) | Pt. 8 (Day 18) [YOU ARE HERE] | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) also on AO3! this year

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 21

Hello! We're back with more Royal Pain. For the person(s) that thought the kiss meant the nearing of the end of the story: NOPE! We still have a bit to get through plot wise. Plus I don't usually go through past them getting together, and wanted to explore that a little before the end.

Also, where have my commenters gone? I used to get 10 or so comments a post and the last part of "Well Met By Moonlight" only had one. My usual commenters just didn't. If I have suggested in anyway that I don't like comments or don't appreciate them, know that I really, really do! And I miss it when people who used comment don't anymore. I'm not going to name names because this isn't a callout post, just a concern, I guess.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Today we have a replay reaction to the kiss by the Royal Pain crew, Wayne being wise (and mention of a ring that has always been a thing in the story, I just forgot to put it in before this oops!) and Chrissy getting some advice.

***

To say that Steve was practically squealing from joy when he got to his car would be an understatement. He put his bluetooth earpiece in his right ear and immediately called Robin.

“Are you okay?” she asked as soon as she picked up.

“Eddie kissed me!” he giggled excitedly.

“No fucking way!” she gasped.

“Not yet anyway,” he said slyly, pulling into traffic.

“Steven Joseph Harrington!” Robin squeaked. “You don’t get to make dirty puns like that unless I’m in hitting distance.”

Steve laughed. “Joseph isn’t my middle name.”

He could hear her snap her fingers. “I’ll guess it eventually.”

“It’s been nearly a decade and you still haven’t guessed it,” he reminded her. “I can make it harder though...”

“Don’t you dare!” she hissed. There was silence for a moment. “You can’t make it harder, can you?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I can actually, but you told me not to.”

He could feel her narrow her eyes from across town as she weighed her options.

“Go ahead,” she said haughtily. “I don’t think you can.”

Steve grinned. “I have two middle names and you’ve never guessed either one.”

“You do not!” Robin hissed. “There is no way!”

“My parents were super traditional,” he told her. “My middle names come from each of my grandfathers.”

“Oh my god,” she said, “that makes so much sense.”

Steve licked his lips and waited. Five, four, three, two–

“Don’t you change the subject, Steven!” Robin came back. “Eddie kissed you.”

“He did indeed,” Steve said, “and I will tell you all about it when I get back to the shop. I’m like three minutes away.”

“I want to know everything!”

“I promise.”

*

Steve got to the shop and everyone was standing around the front counter, chins propped up on their hands, blinking at him expectantly.

He shook his head. “Menaces, the lot of you.”

Erica batted her eyelashes. “Yeah, but you like menaces.”

Steve tilted his head to the side and then nodded. “Yeah, yeah. But first I have to tell about my lunch with Wayne.”

Erica and Chrissy groaned, pushing off the counter and rolling their eyes. Robin and Argyle stayed in position though.

“Trust me,” Steve said holding his hands up, “it’s relevant to the story.”

“This better be good, Harrington,” Chrissy snarked.

“Oh it will be,” he said with a smile, “I promise.”

He started telling them everything. Wayne’s approval, the confrontation with Quinn, Eddie coming to the rescue, the kiss.

“Lunch was definitely relevant, dude,” Argyle said. “Getting parental approval is super important in a relationship. Especially if they’re close.”

Steve nodded. “So does the story live up the hype?” he asked the girls.

Robin rolled her eyes. “I suppose.”

Chrissy giggled. “It was so cute, Stevie. I’m happy for you!”

Steve waited for Erica, who sat there tapping her lips for a moment. She cocked her head. “Ehhh...it was all right.”

Everyone protested, talking over each other.

She burst out laughing. “God, you guys so easy. Of course it was awesome. Super sweet, too.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something when the bell over the door sounded, announcing the arrival of his next client.

He turned to greet them as everyone but Robin scattered. As much as he would love to gossip about his newly minted love life, he had clients that wanted tattoos.

*

Eddie kept licking his lips the whole way to his apartment.

“What made you change your mind?” Wayne asked. “About dating Steve? Him saying ‘I love you’?”

Eddie bit his lip and shook his head. “I had made the decision before that. It was just with Seth stalking me, I didn’t want to get Steve hurt if Seth thought we were together.”

Wayne nodded. “If Seth would threaten Steve over being your friend and tattoo artist, I shudder to think what he would have done if your relationship was more serious.”

“In fact I was going to tell him before Seth threatened him,” Eddie said with a sigh. “We had plans to have dinner at his place and I was going to tell him then.”

“But then Seth showed up?” Wayne asked.

Eddie nodded. “And then that night, I was going to at least let him know that after the whole thing with Seth got resolved, I was going to kiss the hell out him, but that didn’t work out either.”

Wayne tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“That was the night he ran into an ex,” Eddie explained. “The ex. The one that broke his heart. Found out a whole bunch of other shit that night, too. I spent most of the night trying to console him.”

“So the stars finally aligned today, then?” Wayne asked.

“About god damned time, too,” Eddie agreed fiercely.

Wayne hummed. “He’s good for ya, Ed. I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a long time. Even when Seth was breathing down your neck, you were more solid. You had your friends, but with Steve standing beside you, you looked like you could handle whatever the world threw at you as long as you had him.”

Eddie blushed, annoyed that driving kept him from ducking his head or shoving hair in his mouth to cover the flush on his cheeks. “He makes me feel brave, because he’s been through shit too and he’s still standing. Still moving forward each day. I love that about him.”

“Good.”

They drove the rest of the trip in silence. When they got back to the apartment they chatted as Eddie helped Wayne pack for his journey back to Hawkins.

“I want to see you both come Labor Day,” Wayne growled. “No excuses, you hear?”

Eddie nodded. “Yes, sir.” He gave him a jaunty salute.

It looked absolutely ridiculous coming from a long haired metalhead and Wayne’s snort cinched it.

Eddie grinned but gave him a gentle shove. “Steve wasn’t lying when he said that was the plan, by the way. We had been talking about taking him down to meet you since the first week of us becoming friends.”

Wayne nodded sagely. “I understand that he’s not close with his parents.”

“It was big ole mess,” Eddie said softly. “His parents are very recently divorced, like it was finalized last month, recent.”

Wayne hummed. “I remember you saying something about that,” he said. “At least you had an uncle who cared when your parents decided to be shit, it doesn’t seem like Steve had that option.”

“He was close to his grandpa though,” Eddie murmured. “On his mom’s side. He was really broken up when the man died.”

Wayne zipped up his suitcase. “How old was Steve?”

Eddie shrugged. “Young. Eight or nine. His grandfather got cancer before his mom met his dad. His grandpa had struggled with the disease before it finally took him. Steve said that it had ravaged so much of his body that his death certificate was like a laundry list of possible causes of death. Heart failure, kidney failure, cancer...you name it, it was probably on the damn thing.”

“That ring he wears all the time,” Wayne asked, “that his grandfather’s?”

Eddie nodded. “His dad tried to take it for years, saying it inappropriate to leave to a little boy.”

“Only he wasn’t going to stay a little boy forever,” Wayne said. “I guessing that since he still has it, his mom interfered?”

“Maureen Harrington wasn’t going to be winning any best mom awards at any point in Steve’s life,” Eddie scoffed, “but she did do some shit and hiding that ring was one of them.”

“I’m glad he had someone looking out for him,” Wayne said. “I’m sorry it wasn’t all the time. But he at least had something some of the time.”

“He’s not jealous of me or Robin,” Eddie said, “Or anyone of his friends that have a good home life. He’s happy with his found family. He loves them as though they are blood.”

Wayne smiled. “I’m happy for you, Ed. You’ve got something real special with Steve.”

Eddie blushed. “I love him.”

“I think the whole world knows it’s mutual at this point,” Wayne said with a small shake of his head.

Eddie just grinned.

*

Steve grinned as Chrissy wandered out of her room for the third time today. The first time was that she forgot her purse in her car. The second time it was because she had a question for Robin (completely made up and not something that was essential at all to her job). The third time it was because she wanted to ask Robin if she wanted anything from the deli on the corner for lunch.

Could you tell that Vickie was being trained by Robin today?

Vickie put her hand on Robin’s arm to get her to slow down in her nervous and very rapid fire explanation of the phone system and Steve thought Chrissy was going to explode.

Chrissy was wearing a pink blouse with spaghetti straps and white lacy cardigan over the tightest jeans Steve had ever seen and he’s been to a lot of Corroded Coffin shows. Her hair was up in an artfully messy ponytail and her makeup was tasteful and very pink.

Steve was just grateful she hadn’t paired the outfit with anything high heeled and instead chose white ballet flats. He was always worried someone was going to sprain their ankles in high heels walking on their hardwood floors.

He winced as Chrissy’s poor attempt at flirting fell flat.

“Oh,” Robin said, “Steve already ordered him and me Chinese, sorry.”

“I’d love something though,” Vickie said brightly. “Do they have a turkey club?”

Chrissy sputtered for a moment before she nodded meekly. “Yeah.”

“Great!” Vickie continued. “Just let me know how much and I’ll wire you the funds.”

Chrissy nodded again and with a squeak, dashed back into her room. Steve watched as Vickie’s smile turned knowing.

He shook his head and went to go talk to his apprentice.

“Someone’s got a crush,” he said, leaning against the door frame, with his arms folded.

Chrissy threw her arms in the air. “At least you noticed. I don’t think she has.”

Steve chuckled and made his way over to her, swinging the door shut behind him.

“I love her,” he said sitting down on her client lounger, “but she absolutely loses her head when a pretty girl is around. Gay, straight, bi. Doesn’t matter she becomes an absolute mess.”

“I’ve noticed,” Chrissy said bitterly. She thought about Vickie and Mandy and how Robin was just goo around them.

He hummed, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “Here’s the thing though, you are one hundred percent ahead of the game compared to the other two girls.”

Chrissy scoffed. “What makes you think that?”

Steve grinned. “Mandy has a boyfriend, soon to be fiance and Vickie could be bisexual. But she could also be straight. Robin knows you’re a lesbian. You have the advantage of her knowing where she stands with you.”

Chrissy blinked. “Oh.”

“You want to get the girl?” Steve asked. She nodded. “Then you’ve got to step up your game. Time to woo her and not just flirt with her.”

Chrissy chewed on her lip. “But how do I do that?”

Steve shook his head. “Well for starters, paying attention. Robin and I always get Chinese on Fridays.”

She blinked for a moment, pulled out her phone and then the light bulb went off above her head. “Oops.”

“Yeah...”

She took a deep breath. “Do you think I have a chance?”

“She thinks the cheerleading thing is scary hot, so...”

Chrissy grinned. “It’s short skirt, isn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “And the cute little socks.”

Chrissy laughed. “Can’t forget those.”

He turned to walk away, but she stopped him. “Thanks for this, Steve. I know you didn’t have to.”

Steve just smiled softly and then walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Thoughts on how to get the girl of her dreams.

***

Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

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[hellfiretropical]

This entire excerpt is taken from The Flight of Icarus.

Happy #Hellcheerday, Freaks!

Chrissy Cunningham. The name comes to me in a rush, now that there’s a spark of something beyond cowed compliance in her face. Chrissy Cunningham. She’s just a sophomore, but everyone with a working brain cell knows she’s the rising queen of Hawkins High. I’m used to seeing her as just some cutout of a cheerleader, all perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect everything. It’s such a fundamentally uninteresting package that my brain just kind of skips over her, yawning at her existence. But there’s another Chrissy Cunningham. I just hadn’t thought she’d survived the jump to high school. I hadn’t thought she’d even existed outside the boundaries of the Hawkins Middle auditorium.

I’d almost shrieked in surprise. I’d been so focused on the brief glimpses I could catch of the audience that I hadn’t even noticed someone coming up behind me. And now there was this girl perched there, her spindly arms wrapped around her spindly legs and her huge eyes shadowed by the murky catwalk lighting.

“Are you looking for someone?” she’d whispered. Below, five seventh graders clattered clumsily through a baton-twirling routine. I hadn’t been quite sure what to do. By all accounts, this was not the type of girl who should be talking to me. She wasn’t Ronnie Ecker, not wearing hand-me-down overalls and a battered cap. This girl was polished. Her hair was blond. It curled. She looked like she’d skipped off the cover of some Nancy Drew novel. But after an excruciating silence, it became clear that this girl hadn’t made some hideous mistake talking to me, or at least not one she’d figured out yet.

So I cleared my throat and whispered, “My dad.” “Where is he?” she’d asked, leaning around me like she’d somehow be able to pick Al Munson out of a sea of equally unfamiliar adults. I’d just shrugged. Because I’d been up on this catwalk for almost an hour now, and the closest thing I’d found to Dad had been my uncle Wayne, planted way on the left side of the auditorium, watching every act with the same stoic expression on his bearded face. “He didn’t come?” I’d expected pity in the girl’s eyes, and was surprised when I found hungry jealousy instead. “He’s just running late,” I’d said, and it had sounded hollow even to me. But she’d just nodded like she’d believed me. “I came up here to look for my mom.” “Is she running late too?” She’d wrinkled her nose. “I wish. She’s right there.” I followed the direction of her finger, and instantly locked in on the immaculate, poised woman seated front-row-center. “I’m sorry,” I said, and that made the girl smile. “Me too,” she’d whispered, like it was a secret, like it was something she’d never told anyone ever before.

One of the girls on the stage below dropped her baton for the fiftieth time, and I realized the act was drawing to a close. I’d shoved up onto my knees, flinching at the dig of the catwalk grill into my skin. “My band’s up next,” I’d said. “Uh.” “Break a leg,” she’d told me, filling in the blank. “And—” “Eddie.” “Eddie. If your dad gets held up, I’ll cheer for you.” She’d flailed her arms, and I’d noticed her pom-poms for the first time.

(and it was here that he remembered)

“Right back atcha.” I’d winced as soon as it had come out of my mouth. But the embarrassment had almost been worth it for the grin it had gotten out of her.

Later, when the last chords of “Exciter” had thumped unwillingly into the offended ears of Hawkins’s parents and we’d all straggled through the final curtain call, I’d spotted the girl in the lobby, with her mom on one side and a blank-faced, suited man (her dad?) on the other. The mom had been in the middle of some lecture I couldn’t hear, but from her gestures I’d been pretty sure she’d been detailing where in the girl’s routine she’d screwed up. I’d met the girl’s eyes through the crowd, just long enough to mouth I’m sorry, one more time. I’d caught the edge of the girl’s answering smile before her mom, noticing the girl’s split attention, had grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her toward the door.

I’d thought the last four years had stamped out any trace of the unsettled, imperfect, approachable Chrissy Cunningham. But maybe I was wrong.

[munsonhoneybaby]

my love!!! That final part 🥹 you are a STAR! so good. the way you write dialogue, your Eddie especially... he's so so so lovely to read. somehow you keep his edge but all the while he's the nicest fucking guy to ever walk the earth!!!

if one day you're feeling a blurb about them or something, I'd love to read the first meeting with Wayne - I think it could be so funny and sweet. and honestly I just need an endless stream of that version of Eddie and his sweet nothings and his fondness 🥺 obsessed with everything u do WOW

you’re so sweet !! i'm so happy you enjoyed, thank you so much for reading and sending in this ask !!

series masterlist

“Are you sure about this? I feel terrible taking up his day off with this, he should be enjoying his free time.” Frowning nervously, you picked at a string on your jeans. Though you’d been to their trailer three more times since the first, you’d yet to run into his uncle Wayne. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, but you didn’t particularly want to meet him the morning after sleeping at his home unannounced. So, after making a few passive comments to Eddie about wanting to meet him, you were pleased when Eddie told you Wayne wanted to have lunch with both of you. But now, the nerves were starting to settle in.

“He will enjoy this. He’s been dyin’ to meet you, baby, believe me. I already told you, he’s gonna love you.” Taking your hand over the console, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Besides, we’re just goin’ to lunch at the diner. It’s not a big deal.” Pulling into the open spot next to Wayne’s truck, he put the van in park and looked over at you. “Ready?”

You blew out a breath, “Yeah, I think so.”

As he always did, Eddie got out first and opened your door for you. When you went inside, he instantly spotted Wayne, standing from the booth to greet the two of you. “Hey, Wayne.”

“Hey, kid,” He replied, pulling him into a solid hug. With a subtle yet warm smile, Wayne said your name. You held out a hand to shake but instead were given a fatherly embrace much more careful than the one he’d given his nephew. “I’m glad I could finally meet the young lady makin’ this troublemaker so happy.”

“It’s great to meet you, too. I hope you didn’t have to cancel any big plans to make time for me today,” You jested politely.

He gave a quiet laugh in response and said, “Of course not. Sleepin’ on the couch in the living room ain’t more important than this.” The waitress came to take orders, service coming quick due to the few customers in the diner. “I hear you listen to the same kind’a music as Eddie,” Wayne chimed amiably. “You like his music, too?”

“Of course,” You smile, “I think he’s incredibly talented. I love seeing him perform.” The rockstar in question was embarrassedly hiding his flushed face in his hands.

“I’d come to his shows if I could, but I’m always at work,” Wayne expressed regretfully. “I hear him in his room all the time, but I’ve only seen ‘im on stage once or twice since that middle school talent show. I’m glad he’s got someone he cares about there to support him all the time now.”

The food came, saving Eddie from any further spotlight, and you did your best to continue making conversation between bites. “So, did Eddie get any of his music taste from you?”

“Oh, he’d never admit it, but he tolerates some old country music thanks to me. All that metal and rock stuff is good ‘n I like that he likes it, but it’s not really my speed.”

“I’ve gotta say, it’s a little hard picturing Eds listening to country music,” You chuckle.

“Just when I’m with him,” Eddie specified.

“I’m keeping him open-minded.” The waitress placed a single check on the table and Wayne was quick to open his wallet.

“No, please– let me,” You tried to stop him.

“I would never let a lady pay for a meal. This is my treat, darlin’.” It was becoming clearer and clearer how much of an influence your boyfriend’s uncle had had on his upbringing. Handing the cash and the bill to Eddie, he nodded toward the register. “Go take care’a this.” Eddie looked over at you, but you just smiled reassuringly, so he headed for the counter. Before you could start into another line of polite conversation, Wayne spoke. His voice was gruff, quiet. There was sentiment in his tone, though he tried to hide it. “I really am glad you and Eddie found each other. I’m sure you know by now that not many people in this town give ‘im a chance. I would never wanna embarrass the boy, but he hasn’t exactly introduced me to many girls in his life. I’m glad he’s found one that’s a little more like him– that understands him.”

After glancing back at Eddie, handing over the money for your meal with a kind smile, you gave Wayne a fond look. “He cares a lot about you too, you know. It means the world to him that you took over when his Dad went to jail. And I don’t know if it means anything coming from me, but I think you did an amazing job with him.”

You could’ve sworn you saw a tear well in his eye, but he looked away briefly before you could see for sure. It didn’t seem like people acknowledged his parenting effort often.“You’re a sweet young woman. You’re real good for him.”

“I appreciate that,” You responded honestly.

You both started to box up the leftover food and– just before Eddie came back to the table– Wayne added, “I’ll have to show you the few baby pictures I’ve still got around of ‘im,” making you chuckle.

Eyes narrowing slightly as he gave Wayne his change, Eddie asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” You answered playfully as you stood from the booth. His uncle did the same after leaving a generous tip for the kind pregnant woman who’d waited on you. The three of you headed for the parking lot, stopping briefly to say your goodbyes before you split up. “You’ll have to let me cook for you sometime,” You insisted. 

With another one of those barely-there smiles, Wayne clasped a hand over Eddie’s shoulder paternally. “You’ve got a good one here, boy, you’d better take good care’a her.”

Before he could respond, you assured him, “He does, Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, please, never call me that. It’s Wayne. It was nice meeting you. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Of course, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Once you were back in the van with Eddie, he put the key in the ignition before pausing and looking over at you. “So, what did you two talk about while I was gone?”

“None of your business, nosy.”

Dramatically starting the van, he backed out of the parking spot as he replied, “Y’know what? Fine. Now I’m not gonna tell you about Jeff’s date with that chick from his calc class.”

“Hey, wait, c’mon–”

<3

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[sidekick-hero]

When I open my eyes to the future I can hear you say my name

(steddie | explicit | wc: 5151 | cw: none | written for @steddiemas prompt smutty sunday kink discovery | tags: modern au, PWP, Porn with Feelings, established relationship, mirror sex, fluff, this is very soft)

Summary: "Beautiful," he whispers again, and Eddie grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing every fingertip before taking two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them gently while holding Steve's gaze.

The light of the setting sun has almost disappeared, leaving a dim twilight that barely illuminates their bodies. Steve doesn't think he needs any light for this, he knows Eddie's body by heart, all his senses so attuned to him that the absence of one of them wouldn't make much of a difference. But then he happens to look past Eddie to the ceiling, and what he finds there makes his heart stutter in his chest.

A full-length mirror adorns their ceiling, reflecting their image perfectly.

He can't believe he hadn't seen it before, too caught up in his husband it seems. But now that he's seen it, he can't look away, can't stop drinking in the way they look in the faint light that still filters in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Getting away for a weekend of wellness at a spa has been the only thing that has kept Steve going for the past couple of weeks. He loves his job, he really does. But teaching a bunch of middle schoolers only to come home to his own little tornado of a four-year-old has taken its toll. Eddie isn't much better off, as he's been working extra shifts at his uncle's garage on the weekends since Wayne sprained his hand, and that, on top of his tattooing job, has left his husband exhausted as well.

The spa had been Robin and Chrissy's wedding anniversary gift, and Wayne's gift had been to take care of April while they were gone. Everyone thought it would be Steve who would have separation anxiety, that he’d be the one unable to relax knowing he was away from his daughter for three whole days.

But it's Eddie who is on the phone with Wayne once again, asking how their little love bug is doing. It's the third call since they got here two hours ago and Steve would be annoyed that his husband spends all his time on the phone instead of on him, but it's incredibly cute to see this overprotective side of Eddie. As Steve mellowed over the years, Eddie became more anxious at times. Steve had once asked him where the devil-may-care guy had gone, and Eddie had looked at the sleeping bundle in his arms and then at Steve with so much naked love that Steve had felt tears well up in his eyes. Eddie had told him: "This guy has something to lose now, and that scares the hell out of him."

"I trust you, Uncle Wayne. It's just..." He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "I'm being silly, aren't I?" Eddie laughs at himself, obviously embarrassed. "Yeah, you're right, I should. Give April a kiss for us. Hear you tomorrow, okay? And call us if - fine, jeez, okay, I'll -" Eddie stops, pulls the phone from his ear and stares at it in disbelief before looking at Steve with the most offended expression on his face. "He just hung up on me! Can you believe that?"

Steve chuckles before clicking his tongue in mock offense. "He did now? Wow, so rude."

"Somehow I get the feeling you don't take me seriously, oh love of my life."

"What gives you that impression, oh light of my days and nights?"

They smile at each other, their faces glowing, and Steve wonders if you could die of happiness. Then Eddie grins, mischief in his eyes, and before Steve knows what's happening, he's running to the bed where Steve is lying and pouncing on him. The impact pushes the air out of him in a loud huff.

"Get off me, you barbarian."

Eddie cackles maniacally on top of him. "Barbarian, really? Is this some secret fantasy of yours, Stevie? Me ravaging you like a barbarian?"

Shaking with laughter beneath him, Steve shakes his head. "Not really. I saw you cry when you watched Babe with our daughter, who, I might mention, didn't shed a single tear. I don't think I'm buying the barbarian."

Eddie's hips settle between Steve's legs and he leans on his elbows next to Steve's head. He looks down at him and gives him a gentle kiss on the nose before snarking back at him. "Oh, excuse me for teaching our daughter that it's okay to have feelings and show them freely, Mr. Macho Man."

Instead of answering with words, Steve shows Eddie freely how much he feels by capturing his lips in a soft kiss. He takes his time, just pressing their mouths together in a silent sign of affection.

It's been a while since they've had time to indulge each other since they adopted April two years ago. Steve wouldn't trade their little girl for anything, but sometimes he misses the days when he and Eddie would spend all day in bed, fucking for hours and then falling asleep on top of each other, sticky and gross, only to wake up and do it all over again. Nowadays it's mostly quick fumblings in the dark, like teenagers still living under their parents' roof.

As usual, Eddie is on the same page as he is, his hands cupping Steve's face as he begins to move his lips languidly over Steve's, adding just a hint of tongue to ease the glide of their mouths against each other. It's Steve whose patience finally runs out, too eager and hungry to taste the man he's been with for almost a decade.

They kiss like this for what feels like hours, licking into each other's mouths, spit-slick lips coming together again and again, only parting for much needed air before finding each other again like magnets. At some point Steve's hands find their way under Eddie's shirt, gently tracing the muscles of his back, enjoying the feel of his soft skin under his fingertips. It makes Eddie sigh contentedly into his mouth and relax further into Steve's body. Everything around them has become soft and hazy, the sun just setting outside, bathing the hotel room in a warm orange glow.

Steve's eyes have been closed until now, just surrendering to Eddie and their kiss, but the changing light makes him open them. The sight that greets him takes his breath away.

"You're so beautiful," he tells Eddie, their lips just inches apart as he gets lost in the warm amber of his husband's eyes in the low light of the dying day. The smile he receives in return wrinkles the skin around those beloved eyes, and he drowns in the love he finds in them.

Holding Steve's face gently in the palm of his hand, Eddie traces the arc of his cheekbone with his thumb and brushes his nose against the other before capturing Steve's lips in another kiss.

"I love you, Steve Harrington-Munson."

"I love you more."

"I had to fall for a competitive ex-jock who always has to have the last word, huh?"

"Sounds like a you problem, dear."

By now they're both smiling so big it hurts, and finally the laughter bubbles up from their chests, mingling between them, filling the room with the sound of their happiness.

As it slowly fades, silence falls around them again as they look into each other's eyes, understanding passing between them without the need for words. The energy shifts from joyful and light to something heavier, thicker, as Eddie sits up and pulls off his shirt, revealing miles of pale skin adorned with tantalizing black ink. Steve reaches up to trace it reverently, as if he hasn't seen it a million times before.

"Beautiful," he whispers again, and Eddie grabs his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing every fingertip before taking two of his fingers in his mouth, sucking them gently while holding Steve's gaze.

The light of the setting sun has almost disappeared, leaving a dim twilight that barely illuminates their bodies. Steve doesn't think he needs any light for this, he knows Eddie's body by heart, all his senses so attuned to him that the absence of one of them wouldn't make much of a difference. But then he happens to look past Eddie to the ceiling, and what he finds there makes his heart stutter in his chest.

A full-length mirror adorns their ceiling, reflecting their image perfectly.

He can't believe he hadn't seen it before, too caught up in his husband it seems. But now that he's seen it, he can't look away, can't stop drinking in the way they look in the faint light that still filters in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Noticing the shift in Steve's attention, Eddie follows his gaze and turns to see whatever it is that has Steve so enraptured. His gasp is loud in the silent room as their eyes lock in the mirror, both their face taking on similar expressions of wonder and hunger at the picture before them. The picture they make.

"Fuck, Stevie, look at you. All laid out for me," Eddie breathes, his voice full of wonder. He sounds like he's never seen Steve disheveled and wanting before. In fact, he sounds just like the first time they made love so many years ago.

Without tearing his eyes away from where they are locked with Steve's in the mirror, Eddie's hand finds the bulge in his pants and begins to slowly massage it. It draws a needy moan from Steve, his hips bucking against the hand on him, and Eddie moans in sympathy as he feels the hot, hard flesh twitch. "You don't even know what you're doing to me, do you? Fuck, Stevie, baby, I got an idea. Trust me?"

Steve knows the tone, has heard those words more than a few times and it always ended with both of them worn out and deeply satisfied. Leaning up on his elbows, he gently bites Eddie's nipple to show him he's in, and his cock twitches again under Eddie's hand in eager anticipation. "Always. What do you want me to do?"

When Eddie tugs at the hem of his shirt, Steve instinctively lifts his arms, the dance of getting each other naked a familiar one. After quickly turning on the bedside lamp next to them, Eddie's mouth finds his again and this time their kiss tastes of excitement and hunger.

Whatever Eddie is planning, Steve can't wait.

He wants to watch them kiss in the mirror, strangely drawn to the image of them together, but the angle is all wrong and it's not worth breaking their kiss. But when their mouths part and Eddie begins to lick and suck and bite his way down Steve's body, Steve can't help but follow his movements in the mirror above them. It’s strangely mesmerizing to watch bruises bloom on his skin wherever Eddie worships his body with a single-minded determination he usually reserves to playing his sweetheart.

When he reaches the waistband of Steve's jeans, Eddie stops, his chin digging into the soft flesh of his stomach as he follows Steve’s gaze to where they are watching them in the mirror. “You like watching yourself while I get you off, don’t you, sweetheart.” It's not a question.

It's silly, but Steve feels called out by it, like he's been caught doing something naughty. It’s even worse that the feeling makes his cock twitch. It seems that being with Eddie, who's a kinky son of a bitch, has rubbed off on him. In more ways than the literal one.

It sounds defensive when he replies. "Who says I don't like watching you?"

Instead of answering right away, Eddie starts sucking another bruise in the supple flesh above his waistband, and Steve can't take his eyes off his own face in the mirror. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes dark and shining in the lamplight, his mouth slightly open and panting, his lips swollen and wet from their shared spit. His hips keep shifting under the attention and the heat pooling in his stomach is quickly spreading.

The smug smile on Eddie's face as he catches Steve's eyes in the mirror tells him that Eddie knows exactly how turned on Steve's right now. "You can look at me anytime you want. But the look on your face right now, so needy and wanting. You don't usually get to see that, isn’t that right?” Eddie teases him further by biting his hipbone and another moan falls from Steve's mouth.

The smirk on Eddie’s face looks even better in the mirror. “It's hot, I know it is. That look on your face haunts my dreams since I first saw it, love. I get it.” And then, as he unbuttons Steve's jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper, his voice takes on a deeper tone as he commands, "Keep watching.”

So Steve does. He watches as Eddie pulls down his pants and underwear in one swift motion, watches as his own heavy cock slaps against his stomach, already so hard and leaking even though it has barely been touched. He marvels at the sight of his tanned skin flushed with arousal, the shifting of the muscles beneath, the fine hair dusting his creamy thighs, the thick bush of coarse dark hair around the base of his cock. It's mesmerizing, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his body shifts under Eddie's eager hands and a thick drop of pre-cum forms at the tip of his cock, catching the light before dripping down onto his stomach, adding to the small pool already gathering there.

"Beautiful." Eddie's voice is reverent as he says this and his broad hands slide up Steve's bare thighs to his hipbones, almost worshipful. Then he leans down, nuzzling the hot flesh of Steve's cock and sticking out his tongue to lap up some of the wetness gathered under the head before taking him into his mouth. It draws a moan from Steve, his hips bucking involuntarily at the sensation of wet heat around the sensitive flesh.

Eddie chokes around him, obviously not expecting the way Steve shoves himself down his throat with the motion. But instead of pulling away it only spurs Eddie on and he slides down further, taking Steve deeper and deeper until his nose is buried in the thick patch of dark hair at the base of his cock.

Overwhelmed by the sensation of Eddie's mouth on him, Steve moans brokenly. It's not the first time, hell, it's not even the hundredth, but seeing it in the mirror above and feeling it at the same time has him shaking with need. Eddie swallows around him and Steve feels his throat tighten with the movement, a long fuck followed by Eddie's name the only reaction he allows himself. Part of him wants to move, to slide in and out of Eddie's throat, to fuck his mouth like he would his ass. But a bigger part of him wants to let Eddie take control and just watch, like a voyeur of his own pleasure.

He never thought that watching them fuck in a mirror would be like this. To be honest, he never even contemplated it before, and if he had, he would have thought that he would be into it a normal amount. But normal is the last thing he feels about the whole thing.

Then Eddie finally starts to move, slowly bobbing his head on Steve's length, his tongue sliding up and down the underside of his cock. Eddie is on his stomach between Steve's legs, his hands on Steve's thighs for balance, and Steve marvels at the broad expanse of his back. It's mesmerizing, the way his shoulder blades move as he goes up and down, making the dragon tattooed on them look like it's moving, ready to take flight. Or the way his hips keep shifting, the muscles in his ass clenching subtly as he humps the bed to take some of the pressure off his own cock. It's watching himself that's new and exciting, but he'd be lying if he said that watching Eddie pleasure himself from this angle didn't add fuel to the fire in his veins.

Every time only the head of Steve's cock is in his mouth, Eddie looks up at the mirror and his eyes find Steve's. The dark brown of them is almost completely swallowed by his pupils, like the inky black eyes of a demon, and the lock in them is wicked. He knows exactly what this is doing to Steve, can feel it in the way Steve's cock twitches and his balls are pulled tight against his body, already as close to coming as a virgin getting his first blow job.

And that's when Eddie suddenly pulls away from him.

Steve is not proud of the whimper that falls from his throat, but he was so fucking close, his pleasure about to peak with surprising speed. But now, as the air of the room hits the wet skin of his spit slicked cock, his climax is already out of reach.

With gentle hands rubbing up and down his thighs, Eddie soothes him. "I know, baby, I know. But as much as I love you coming down my throat, I want you to see how beautiful you look when you're coming on my cock."

"Oh God."

"Thought so," Eddie chuckles. "I'll be right back."

True to his word, Eddie only gets up from the bed to shed his remaining clothes, presenting Steve with even more pale, inked skin and the mouthwatering sight of his hard and heavy cock before he walks over to their unpacked bags to rifle through them. As he squats down to do so, Steve gives him a low and teasing whistle and Eddie looks at him over his shoulder with a lascivious wink before turning back to the task at hand. Steve still clocked his goofy grin which matches the one on his own face. He never had a lover he could laugh with as much as with Eddie, no matter how kinky or filthy they fucked.

Seconds later, Eddie finds what he's looking for: a bottle of lube. Before Steve can blink, Eddie is back between his spread legs, but instead of resuming his earlier position, he shuffles forward on his knees and hooks his arms under Steve's thighs to lift them onto his own, Steve's ankles crossed behind his back. The heat in Eddie's eyes as he sees Steve splayed out in front of him sends goosebumps up and down Steve's body.

Even after almost a decade, Eddie has this intense way of looking at him, like he would devour him whole if he could. Like he's never wanted anything more in his life than Steve, and Steve has no idea how to live without that feeling. He hopes he never has to find out, and that even when they're old and having geriatric sex, Eddie will still look at him like that.

Steve is so lost in the look on Eddie's face that he doesn't even notice his husband opening the bottle of lube and coating his fingers with it. It's only the slightly cold sensation of the lube-slicked fingers as they tease his rim that alerts him to the next phase of Eddie's plan.

"As much as I love to have your eyes on me, I need you to look up in the mirror. I want you to see what I see every time I get to have you like this."

As always, Steve can only comply when Eddie's voice gets like this, his voice soft and deep, but also firm. Knowing exactly what they both need. It's not that he's always in charge, quite the opposite. Often it's Steve who takes him apart, who uses his voice as well as his hands on Eddie until he's a needy mess writhing on the sheets. But God, he loves it when Eddie takes over and allows Steve to give up the tight grip on his self-control and just let Eddie take care of him.

In the mirror he sees himself spread out on the sheets, his thighs hugging Eddie's sides and his own hands on either side of his head. His hair is a mess and he sees his face slacken with pleasure as the first two fingers enter him at once. The angle of his hips doesn't allow him to see where Eddie's fingers disappear into him, but he watches in rapture as they slide in and out. It's the same heavy feeling as when he watched Eddie swallow his cock and he felt the wet heat engulf him at the same time.

"I never told you this, but this is my favorite part. Don't get me wrong, I love everything we do, baby, even just kissing you makes me feel so happy and alive every time. But I could play with you like this for hours, making you come on my fingers over and over again and never get tired of it."

Eddie does that sometimes, just lets his mouth run wild, saying the dirtiest and sweetest things, often in the same breath. Steve lives for these moments, feels himself clench around the fingers inside him in a mindless search for more sensation, more pleasure. He knew it when they went on their first date, and he never changed his mind: Eddie Munson would be the death of him one day.

"Do you know that the first time I fingered you, I realized that I loved you and that I wanted us to be forever? Don't look at me like that, I know it's not the most romantic thing to say, but it's true," Eddie tells him, kissing the inside of his thigh tenderly before pushing another finger inside him. "It was when I felt your pulse beating against my finger inside you. It felt like your heart was beating only for me, and I never wanted it to beat for anyone else, never wanted to go another day without being allowed to feel its rhythm against my fingers inside of you, or my hand wrapped around your wrist, or my head against your chest. That's when I knew I felt forever about you."

It's strange to watch his own face as he takes in those words, the way his eyes grow even wider, his expression softening. He watches as his hand reaches for Eddie's, the one not three fingers deep inside him, and Eddie takes it, lacing their fingers together.

"I feel forever about you too, you know that, right? Fuck, Eddie, if we weren't already married, I'd ask you again right now."

Eddie pulls their intertwined hands to his mouth and kisses the simple platinum band on Steve's finger. "And I'd say yes and do it all over again, right down to our first song being an Ed Sheeran song, you musical heathen."

He finally tears his eyes away from the mirror to look directly at Eddie so his husband knows he means it when he says, "Then let's do it. Eddie Munson, will you marry me? Again?"

Eddie laughs, the sound bright and full of joy. "Only you would ask me to marry you while I'm three fingers deep in you, Stevie."

"That's not an answer."

"Yes, you crazy, wonderful man. Of course it is." Eddie laughs again, delirious with happiness, his whole body shaking with it. Steve feels it everywhere they touch, especially deep inside him, and it rekindles the hungry flame of desire.

"Then show me you mean it."

Pulling his fingers free, Eddie wipes them on the sheets before placing his hand right next to Steve's head. Then he moves their still joined hands to the other side and leans down to capture Steve's lips in a deep, searching kiss. It's as if he's pouring all his love, all that he's just said to Steve, into the way he kisses him. The new position puts Eddie almost completely on top of Steve and he can feel how hard Eddie is, leaking all over himself and Steve as their cocks slide against each other.

Steve thinks they're going to fuck just like that, Eddie making love to him while holding his gaze, sharing their breath and feeling each other's hearts beating against their chests.

They don't.

Instead, Eddie slides off him and settles down on his back next to Steve. He reaches for the lube again and coats his hard cock with it, obviously trying not to get too carried away with it. Steve wants to replace Eddie's hand with his own, but this is Eddie's show and he'll let him run it.

When Eddie is done, he slides his arm between Steve's back and the bed, his hand curled around Steve's waist, pulling him closer.n"Lie on top of me, Stevie. Your back to my chest so you can watch yourself fall apart on my cock."

Eddie Munson will be the death of him.

Steve does as he's told and gets into position, his back against Eddie's chest and his head resting on Eddie's shoulder. Eddie places his feet on the bed, his bent legs spreading Steve's on either side. They've never done it like this before, and as Eddie slides into him in one smooth motion, Steve wonders why. It's so good, the way Eddie stretches him from that angle, the slight sting of too much soon replaced by white-hot pleasure as he's filled so deeply.

He feels Eddie's hands on his body, one cupping his aching cock, the other gently pressing down on his throat. Steve moans softly, overwhelmed by all these sensations hitting him at once and he doesn't know what to do with himself. The way he's spread out on Eddie's lap, he has no leverage to move his hips, to take more than Eddie is willing to give, and he whines under his breath when Eddie doesn't move.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart."

Steve hadn't even noticed that he had closed them, too lost in his own pleasure. So he does as Eddie tells him and opens his eyes, his gaze finding the reflection in the mirror in an instant.

The sight takes his breath away and the moan that falls from his throat sounds choked.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Steve," Eddie marvels as he finally begins to move, slowly beginning to fuck into him, his eyes drinking in the sight as hungrily as Steve's. "You had to see this to believe me. Every love song is about you, every poem, every love story. The great masters couldn't dream of painting something as breathtaking as you, every marble statue pales in comparison to your beauty."

"Eddie," Steve gasps. He wants to say so much more, but he feels that nothing is as important as that single word.

After that, no more words are needed between them. Instead, Eddie kisses his temple as his hand on Steve's cock begins to pump his shaft at the same languid pace as his hips continue to move. It's the sweetest torture.

Steve's face is contorted with pleasure, his mouth open and panting. His skin is flushed, glistening with a thin layer of sweat that reflects the lamplight in a way that makes his skin look almost golden. The muscles in Eddie's forearm keep flexing, moving under the inked skin as one hand presses against his throat and the other slides up and down his cock.

It almost feels like there are two people fucking him, two people stroking him, two people choking him. The one he feels doing all these things and the one he watches doing them.

It’s overwhelming in it’s intensity, the single hottest thing he’s ever felt.

Eddie's hot breath fans across his face and as much as he tries to take it slow so he can make Steve fall apart first, the gasps and grunts that come from him tell Steve that he won't be able to hold back much longer. Which is good, because Steve doesn't know how much longer he can do this before he loses his goddamn mind.

"I'm so close, baby, fucking me so good. Looking so good. Want you to fill me up." Steve doesn't even recognize his own voice when he adds, "Please."

It's the please that pulls a deep moan out of Eddie, and Steve knows he's playing dirty, because Eddie can never deny him anything when he begs like that. He's only using this power for good though, because Eddie is just as desperate to come as Steve is. He can feel it in the way his hips immediately pick up speed at his words, his hand on Steve matching the new rhythm.

"I can't wait to marry you again," Eddie croaks after a few more thrusts, his voice choked with emotion. Those words and the way Eddie says them, combined with the way he's so full and the hand on him feels so good, is enough to throw Steve over the cliff and he comes in thick spurts all over his own chest.

It seems to go on forever and Steve forces himself to look, to keep his eyes from closing from the pleasure. He's never seen himself come like this before and it's probably a sign of how vain he is, but the sight is so fucking hot. More cum keeps dripping from his cock, helped by Eddie's hand milking him almost dry until it all becomes too much.

Beneath him, Eddie is now chasing his own climax, his hips losing all rhythm as they slam into him as deep as they can. The hand on his cock has let go as soon as Steve's moans of pleasure have become painful from how sensitive the flesh has become, but the one on his throat remains, pressing down harder. He keeps grinding inside Steve, small movements matching the breathy grunts in his ear, until Steve can feel Eddie tense and the warmth of his cum filling him.

Then Eddie sinks into the mattress like a marionette whose strings have been cut. His body is limp and his face contented as he tries to catch his breath. When his legs give out, he stretches them with a groan and it causes him to slide out of Steve, a small trickle of cum dripping out and onto him.

Steve is just as content and exhausted, every muscle in his body relaxed and he's probably getting heavy where his body is trying to sink into Eddie. He looks a mess, his face red, his hair as wild as Eddie's unruly curls and his chest smeared with his own cum.

Steve has never felt more covetable. Never felt more loved, and all thanks to Eddie and his uncanny ability to know exactly what Steve needs even before he himself does.

Squirming on top of Eddie until he manages to get off of him and curl into his body with an arm and a leg thrown over him, Steve nuzzles into Eddie's neck. He gets a lingering kiss on the top of his head for his trouble and they both sigh happily in unison.

After a few more minutes of shared silence and bliss, Steve can't help but ask in a quiet voice, "You meant it, didn't you? About marrying me again?"

He can hear the smile in Eddie's voice as he answers. "Oh baby, I'm actually one step ahead of you. There's a ring in my pocket waiting to be put on your hand if you want it. You just beat me to the proposal, you competitive ass."

He feels like he's glowing with happiness as he laughs in delightful surprise at Eddie's words. "You love my competitive ass so much you're marrying it again."

"That I do. Happy anniversary, Steve."

"Happy anniversary, Eddie."

[oneforthemunny]

Can I please request teacher reader buying Eddie flowers, or something that is low-key but ends up bringing him to tears because he feels so loved?

(He’s also totally the guy who saves every piece of the kids art from finger paintings to their little projects from school)

I hope you're ready for pain bitches (and by pain I mean such tender sweetness it will bring tears to your eyes)

It was a small promotion. Eddie had brushed it off like it was nothing, focusing more on the pay raise and diminishing the rest, but you wouldn't hear it. Squealing and wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tight to you as you rocked him back and forth with pure glee.

The superintendent had wanted to meet with Eddie, a fact that only a few hours earlier had him wracked with anxiety. Instead of the impending doom of being "let go" like he'd worried himself sick about, it was the opposite. A promotion.

The school needed to hire a maintenance worker for the middle school too, but the budget was tight. Not enough to pay an entire other salary, but enough to promote Eddie to janitor of the elementary school kids, and do some oddball maintenance work for them too. He supposed the time in the shop with Wayne had helped, the pay increase showed him that. The superintendent boasting on him about what a great job he did, they just needed more of him.

Eddie was thrilled, grinning when he told you, still a little shy and bashful about bragging on himself, promising that he'd finally get to take you and Oliver and Olivia on the vacation you deserved. You ignored his negative tone, cupping his cheeks and peppering his face in kisses. You were proud, so fucking proud. Beaming in adoration at him and he basked in it.

"Babe," Eddie called, plastic bags full of detergent and milk you'd sent him out for, kicking the door shut gently. "I got the stuff."

Eddie's ears perked, hearing the quiet shushing tones and tiny giggled from the kitchen. His brow raised, living room lacking tiny children watching cartoons or playing with toys.

Eddie called your name, fishing out his keys to sling them in the bowl, brows furrowed when he turned the corner. "Baby, are you-"

"Congratulations!"

Eddie startled, stepping back at the sudden sound, eyes rounding in surprise. The three of you, his tiny, perfect family, all stood in front of the kitchen table. Oliver on a chair, your hand on his back protectively, Olivia on your hip, clapping and gargling excitedly in her little baby blabber that always had Eddie's heart turning to mush. In the middle, a small pan cake. Strawberry frosting that read 'Congratulations Dad!' in sloppy frosting writing- no doubt Ollie's, judging by the sticky residue on his shirt.

"Look, Dad!" Oliver grinned. "We made you a cake!"

Eddie felt it coming, the burn of tears, throat constricting and strangling his words in his throat. "You did?" He lilted as best he could, clearing his throat lightly, too overcome with emotion.

"Uh-huh!" Oliver bobbed his head, too caught up in his own excitement to see how emotional Eddie was getting. "Mom let me break the eggs in, and-and stir it, and we both decorated it! Olivia tried to help, but she kept hitting it with her hands and it got everywhere." Oliver giggled, looking at his baby sister.

"We just wanted to say congratulations." You beamed, rubbing Olivia's back gently. "To show you how proud we are of you, and how happy we are for you."

Eddie pressed his lips together. He refused to cry. He couldn't. Not in front of the kids. "Wow." Eddie choked out, swiping at his nose as casually as he could. "I-I... I don't know what to say."

"Do you like it?" Oliver's voice was softer now, shoulders drooping in defeat.

"No, no!" Eddie said frantically, shaking his head. "I mean, yes. I just... I was really surprised." Eddie said genuinely, setting the bags down slowly. "And I am really thankful you guys did this all for me. So thank you." He nodded, jaw flexing to keep his tears from spilling.

"Congratulations, honey." You muttered, leaning up to press your lips to his in a short, sweet kiss over Olivia's head.

Eddie's hand found your cheek, stroking it lovingly, eyes swimming with emotion. Olivia squealed, squirming and reaching for her father, grabby hands at him that made Eddie smirk, hoisting her onto his own hip.

"Thank you, you guys." Eddie ran a hand over Oliver's head, pulling him closer to his chest. You beamed when you looked at them, Eddie's arm raising to let you in, so you were snuggled to his side, arm over Olivia's back, scratching Oliver's head gently. Eddie's lips pressed to your head, nose lingering over your scalp, breathing in the familiar scent of you to calm his emotions, heart swelling and bursting with love and pride. His little family.

[love-toxin]

Opinion on this idea: Instead of an engagement ring, Bully!Eddie makes reader get a tattoo of his name somewhere where he can only see 😼 (But maybe will give her a nice engagement ring down the line once he's able to save up).

OKAY......SO.......

(cws: bully!Eddie, tattooing, needles, f!angelface.)

for one: homemade tattoo. Eddie designs it and tells you he's gonna apply it himself, don't be a baby he's done it before, but he refuses to let you see the tattoo beforehand. you're terrified but you did agree to it, and you agreed to marry him, so.....all you can really do is just trust him. he wants to put it on your chest, right in the middle and just below your tits, so it'll be covered by your clothes and only occasionally seen if you wear a bikini or something. when he dips that scary-looking needle into his little pot of ink you're shaking, already close to tears and expecting him to just jab it right in--but he's so gentle, does the tiniest line and looks up at you to ask "s' the pain okay?" and when you process what he's saying and finally nod, he goes back to it, focused hard on what he's doing and slinking one of his hands up to hold yours when it gets really painful.

when it's done, somehow you're even more scared to see it, even though he doesn't have that smug smirk on his face that would tell you he's done something awful. but once Eddie's deemed that you've been laying down enough and he's gotten a little water in you, he helps you up and shows you what it looks like in the mirror, uncharacteristically quiet all the while. what you see staring back at you is a little black bat just like his, but its wings are outstretched and written across them are a line of little letters in a gothic-esque script; an E followed by a plus and the initial of your first name, with Munson carefully scrawled even smaller underneath it so the whole name fits. it's.....it's nicer than you were expecting, and you have no idea how relieved Eddie is when you tell him you love it. he can't even boast, he just smiles to himself, grateful that those long weeks of planning out the design and redrawing it a million times paid off.

aside from that, I also like the idea of bully!Eddie having no real concept of what's appropriate for an engagement ring. he knows what you like, but he doesn't know how much he should spend--and when he's saved up enough, he's stricken with fear when he shows what he picked out to his uncle, and Wayne just goes white as a sheet.

"fuck, what is it? is the colour off? does it look cheap? goddamn it, that lying fucking prick of a salesman-" Eddie nearly goes into a full, flustered rant as he pulls his hand back, looking over the ring like he hadn't done so a million times before he bought it and after--until Wayne stops him, and laughs.

"son, she's going to have a heart attack when she sees that, it's gorgeous. what on god's earth did you pay for a ring like that?"

let's just say Wayne is rendered speechless for a second time when Eddie tells him the price, completely blown away by how nonchalant his nephew is as he asks "what? i saved up my bonuses, and it's the kind she likes. you don't give a woman like that some cheap piece of shit." needless to say, Eddie's surprised to hear that he's probably spent about two or three times the amount any normal person would, but there's no way he's returning it for something more reasonable, cause it's the one ring he's found that's exactly what you would look for. of course, he's not gonna be totally certain until he gives it to you, but he's definitely gonna have quite the puddle of happy and shocked tears to mop up when he pulls it out on your anniversary.

[gayphob1a]

STWG Daily Drabble 12/16/23

Prompt: looking back

100 days.

100 days they were together. Just over three months of secrecy. They’d gone from friends to so much more in such a small time frame, but it felt so much longer, like eons of finding safety in Eddie’s smaller frame.

And now Steve’s alone. Again. He kept his emotions locked up tight like the padlock on Eddie’s decrepit trailer. He can’t stand to see the kids right now, not when they’ll ask him what happened, why Eddie left in such a rush.

The tour was sudden. Just a small trial route around the midwest to see if Corroded Coffin really could pull a crowd of more than five drunks, and the kids helped him pack his and Wayne’s life up into the back of his squeaky old van, but they could also see something else behind both Steve and Eddie’s eyes when they hugged goodbye for the last time. They knew there was more to it than just a month-long tour, and explaining it to them would be the last crack Steve’s heart needed to shatter once and for all. Even Robin couldn’t slip past the walls he’d put up to find that final piece of the puzzle.

Because Steve was the only one who knew: Eddie would not be coming back.

And that was as much his fault as it was the music’s.

“Eddie, please. You can’t go.” Steve begged, ready to drop down on his knees and plead, ready to drop the three little words that had been on the tip of his tongue since they survived the upside down. But he also knew he could never say them, not like this. Not when it felt more like a manipulation than the truth.

“How can you even ask that of me? Steve, you know this is everything I've ever wanted! I’ll be like 12 hours away, max, and it’s only a month.”

“A month away from me, you mean. A month with your ‘everything’ apparently. Who knows who you’ll meet out there. I mean, i’ve seen you on stage, people will be throwing themselves at you.”

Eddie got quiet then, sullen and close to tears. “Do you really think I would do that to you? Do you honestly believe I would cheat on you?”

“I don’t want you to have to decide if you will or not,” Steve whispered, far too honest for his own good.

“That isn’t a decision for me because i already know what i would choose. It’s you, Steve. It’ll always be you. Why don’t you just come with us? I already talked to the guys. you know they’re more than happy to have you come along too.”

“You already know my answer to that, Ed’s. I can’t leave the kids and if you’re gonna go, you deserve to get to experience this on your own.”

“So… what are you saying?”

“you know what i’m saying.”

“No, Steve, I don’t. I want to hear you say it or I won’t believe it.”

Steve sighed, the breath escaping with a single tear he’d been engaged in a losing battle with. “I’m saying maybe it’s better if we go our separate ways. If we find our way back to each other, so be it, but I can’t leave and you can’t stay, so really what else is left for us?”

“Please don’t do this. Steve, I lo—“

“Don’t finish that sentence or it changes everything,” Steve pleaded, tears streaming down his face in droves.

“Everything’s changing anyway, isn’t it? Shouldn’t i get to say it at least once?”

Steve shook his head, burying his face in Eddie’s shoulder. He couldn’t stand to look at him when the words finally hit his ears.

“I love you, Steven Anita Harrington.”

“that’s not my middle name,” Steve said, and kissed Eddie for the last time.

He didn’t say it back.

Looking back, he should have said it.

[takabinaryy]

Rainy days

Originally posted on April 15th 2023 Idea by me , inspired by @cutiecorner Parent/Caregiver- Alfred Pennyworth Son/Little- Bruce Wayne Bruce has a toddler headspace

Also "Tommy" is a nickname that both Martha & Alfred would call him since Bruce's middle name is Thomas, of course Tommy is the nickname for Thomas. Their Tumblr is mostly about dc agere stuff and the adorable Dadfred & BabyBat art & fanfics )

It was a rainy day in Gotham City which meant no playing outside. Even if Bruce really wanted to play in the mud puddles, he's just sitting on the floor with a couple of pillows, blankets, and stuffies. The regressed master in question was looking out the window pouting watching the rain fall against the window sill.

" Sweetheart, I'm aware you wish to play out there. However if I were to let you do that , you'll catch a cold. And we wouldn't want that"

He whips his head around to look at his adoptive father/ caregiver, with a even more pouty look then before. Bruce doesn't want to get sick , he hates being icky like that. Alfred tsks and bends slightly to his son's sitting height, and pops a frog themed paci in his mouth.

" Now little love let's go make star cookies , and later you may help me make dinner. How does that sound? Helping Papa?"

The little sucks on his paci thinking it over , he loves helping papa cook and baking. And the star cookies? Those are the best oatmeal raisin chocolate chip cookies ever! And in his favorite shape? He guesses he can play outside other day , when it's not raining out. Bruce nods his head , he made up his mind on wanting to help papa. Alfred smiles and gets up taking the toddle's hand , bringing them to the kitchen.

" Now what are we supposed to do first?"

" wash hands papa!"

" That's right Tommy baby"

Bruce smiles hearing his nickname for his middle name. For some reason he just loved being called that by his papa and by his mommy when she was alive. Bruce gives his paci to papa so it doesn't get dirty  , washes his hands. His papa puts it on the counter planning to wash it after they are done baking. After awhile Alfred puts the star shaped cookies in the oven, setting a timer for 20 minutes on the little norpro chicken timer, he turns to Bruce. Who has flour on his sweater , hands , and face, honestly he doesn't know how the little could possibly get flour all over himself, a bath is definitely in order then.

" Alright Tommy dear , I do believe it's bath time" " wit bubbles?"

Alfred nods his head with a smile on his face, already knowing his boy would want bubbles, specifically with the soft lavender soap the baby loves oh so much. The father picks up his regressed child easily(he's old but he's not weak) heading up the stairs to the boy's bathroom that's connected to the bedroom. He sets Bruce down on the floor as he gets the bath water going. He even adds a few bath toys , such as a few colorful plastic boats and a water based toy octopus. Once the tub starts filling up , Alfred helps Bruce out of his clothes including the semi-wet pull-up. Now undressed he gets his boy in the tub adding the bubbles, watching the little's eyes light up seeing said bubbles form and flow around him in the water. His papa lets him play around a bit as the older man gets his son's clothes together before he washes the baby.

Now all clean up , Alfred pulls the pug to drain the water , he gets Bruce out wrapping him up in a yellow duck towel with a hood on it. Said little giggles from the forehead kisses he's given , as he's guided back in his room and layed down on the bed.

Alfred gets him dressed in a diaper and a long sleeve space themed snapped crotch onesie, and cute grey's jocks with ruffles around the ankle. Bruce gets handed his beloved stuffed animal Mr. Haru the stuffed Whale shark , he happily holds him to his chest making happy noises behind his star themed paci. The baby gets picked up again and brought to the living room down stairs, and gently set down on the pillows and blankets he had been sitting on a few hours ago.

" What would you like to watch ? Or do you maybe want to color?"

"Oh? Please papa"

" You may do both Tommy , is there something specific you would like to watch while papa gets your arts and crafts stuff out?"

" Hmm munsters please"

" Such good manners little love"

Alfred gets the show on for the baby , then takes the cookies out setting them on the counter to cool down. He fills a sippy cup up with half mango juice and water then gets a few coloring books and crayons. Walking back to his regressed son , setting the items down in front of them , the sits down on the couch watching Bruce get lost in his own little word.

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

I really wanted to have a WIP ready for Hellcheer anniversary week, but all I’ve got is a half finished outline that taunts me from my notes folder every time I open it up (to feverishly succumb to another bout of Eleverson brainrot). As an apology offering I present a piece I wrote last September called Right Side Up, which takes place about three days after Eddie escaped the Upside Down (because of course he did) and Vecna was defeated (because of course he was).

Chrissy wakes up.

For a moment, she doesn’t know where she is; she’s curled in an unfamiliar chair, covered in a slightly scratchy blanket, and somebody nearby is quietly crying like a child, soft little brokenhearted whimpers they’re clearly trying to suppress but which will not be held back.

Then she hears Wayne Munson’s quiet, disbelieving voice gasping “Eddie?” and everything comes flooding back. They’re in Eddie’s hospital room, Wayne sleeping on a little cot the nurses rolled in for him, Chrissy in a squeaky vinyl recliner tucked into the corner. They hadn’t left him alone for a second, though it had been almost two and a half days since his surgery and he’d been unconscious the entire time. Now it’s the middle of the night and her neck aches from sleeping in the chair but none of that matters one bit, because Eddie finally, finally woke up.

“Eddie, my boy.” Enough dim light spills in from the hallway that Chrissy can see Wayne get up from the cot and hurry over to sit on the bed next to Eddie, carefully gathering his weeping nephew into his arms. “Thank the lord. Oh, my boy.”

“W-Wayne?” Eddie buries his face in his uncle’s chest, his next words coming out muffled, but in the quiet of the room Chrissy can still make them out. “I m-missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, son. I was so worried about you.”

“Am I… am I…” Eddie falters. He sounds so weak. Breathless. “Arrested?”

“No. Don’t you worry about that,” Wayne soothes, his hand stroking through Eddie’s hair. “Some fella named Owens took care of all that, you don’t have to worry ‘bout police anymore.”

“I didn’t…” Chrissy can see Eddie’s eyes, huge and luminous with tears, pleading, fixed on his uncle’s face. “Didn’t k-k… I didn’t k-k-kill…”

Wayne flings his arms around Eddie again, nearly crushing the boy in his embrace. “I know that, baby, dontcha think I know that? I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone. Never thought for one second that any of that shit was true about you. I know you ain’t never hurt anyone.”

Eddie makes a sound, halfway between a sigh and a sob, of pure relief. “Didn’t k-k-kidnap… she needed… she needed…”

“Easy now, darlin’, take it easy, now. Everythin’s alright, we know you ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

For a moment, the silence is only broken by Eddie’s quiet sniffling and the starchy scritch of Wayne’s hand rubbing his back through his thin blue gown. Then Wayne speaks again, and Chrissy is surprised to hear a hint of laughter in his voice.

“As if I’d believe you’d do anything to hurt Chrissy Cunningham.”

Eddie groans. “Don’ make fun o’ me.”

“How many songs you write about that girl? Reckon you’re up to twenty, now?”

Chrissy just barely manages to stop herself from sitting bolt upright. Songs? Eddie’s written songs about her?! When could he possibly have done that?

“Stop it.” A pained grunt, as if it hurt when he shifted in the bed. “You heard… if… if she’s okay?”

Wayne laughs outright now, softly, but undeniable. “You’n ask her yourself in the mornin’, son, she’s sleepin’ right over yonder.”

“Wayne.” Eddie’s voice trembles. “Please stop.” A pained moan escapes him. “‘S’not funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“Don’t… don’t make fun…” A sob catches in his throat. “Please.”

“Ed, I swear, I ain’t makin’ fun of you. Chrissy is fine, and I swear to you she ain’t left this room since you got here. Damn near sick over you. She’ll be so happy to see you awake. I promise I ain’t lyin’.”

“No,” Eddie moans. “No. Not for me. M-mother won’t… let… let her…” His breath hitches. “Wayne?”

“Yeah?”

“Hurts.”

“What hurts, baby?”

“Here.”

“Lemme get the nurse. You had surgery, son, patchin’ up holes in your guts. They’n give you somethin’ for the pain.” He presses the call button, then resumes gently rubbing his nephew’s back. Chrissy can hear Eddie’s uneven breaths, too fast and too shallow, even with his face pressed into Wayne’s shoulder.

Neither of them speak again until a nurse has come in, injected the pain medicine and flushed it through with saline, and checked Eddie’s temperature and vital signs. She wishes them both a good night and reminds them not to hesitate to ring again if there’s anything they need. Chrissy smiles to herself, thankful for the nurse’s kindness.

“Was she…” Eddie’s voice is hesitant. “Chrissy… she’s really okay?”

“She’s fine, son. She’s just worried about you,” Wayne replies, but to Chrissy’s surprise, Eddie starts to cry again. “I was scared,” he sobs. “She needed… me to b-be brave… and I, and I w-w-wasn’t.”

“That ain’t how she tells it.” Wayne’s voice is so loving, so comfortingly warm. “She tol’ me you saved her life. Says you’re her hero. How d’you like that?”

“Sh-she did?”

“Now why’s that so hard to believe?”

Eddie sniffles. “You know why.”

Chrissy doesn’t know why, and she wants to. After how close they’ve grown over the last week, after everything they’ve been through together, why would Eddie think she’d have anything but wonderful things to say about him?

“Well, I can’t make you believe me.” Wayne gently eases Eddie back against the pillows as he speaks. “But that’s what she said. An’ she sat here holdin’ your hand n’lookin’ at you like you done hung the moon just for her.” He pulls the blanket up to Eddie’s chin. “An’ if I thought you’d be awake for more’n five more minutes I’d go get her up so’s she could tell you herself.”

“‘S’a nice story,” Eddie murmurs. “I like her.”

“I know you do, son.”

“She’s… en… enchanting.”

Chrissy feels her cheeks flush warm, her eyes fill with tears. Enchanting? None of her cheerleader friends ever called her anything besides ‘nice’ or ‘pretty’, empty clichés they all tossed meaninglessly at each other, and her ex hadn’t even bothered with that for longer than she cared to remember. It was so like Eddie to give her the best compliment she’d ever heard, when he didn’t even realize she’d heard it.

Wayne is chuckling again. “You be sure to tell her that in the morning.”

“Don’ laugh. She… Chrissy.” Eddie’s words are definitely slurred now; the pain medicine is rapidly making him drowsy. “Chrissy. She’s ‘mazing. Think I… love her.”

“I know you do, son,” Wayne repeats, barely louder than a whisper. He leans forward to smooth Eddie’s hair back from his face and gently kiss his forehead.

“You too,” Eddie murmurs. “Wayne. Love… Wayne.”

“I know, darlin’. I love you, too. Go to sleep, now.”

“You… stay?”

“Course I’ll stay. Got a bed for me right there. I won’t leave you.”

“‘Kay.” Eddie sighs deeply, then his breathing slows and Chrissy can tell he’s asleep.

Wayne stays seated at the side of his bed for a few more minutes before getting up. He stretches a little, his back cracking, then stoops to kiss his nephew’s forehead again before climbing back into his cot. In less than two minutes he’s softly snoring.

She slides from the recliner, slowly so it doesn’t squeak, and tiptoes across the room to Eddie’s bed. She slips in carefully next to him, making sure to avoid the iv line, and snuggles close, resting her head against his shoulder and one hand on his chest, right over his heart. His eyes don’t open, but his breath hitches and she can see his eyelashes flutter a bit. A moment later, his hand slides slowly up to cover hers.

Chrissy smiles, turning her hand to lace their fingers together. Eddie hums a small, contented sounding sigh from the back of his throat. His breathing deepens, slowing into the rhythm of sleep again, and moments later she follows him down.

[mirkwoodmunson]

mid-west monster #1

werewolf!eddie munson x reader

you’ve been with eddie munson for a few months now, and while you knew the boy harbored some secrets — you weren’t aware just how hairy things were about to get

tw: cursing, body horror(? i think?)

a/n: for writeober i’ll be attempting to do (hopefully) daily drabbles, each one a progression of this fic and based around a generated prompt! feel free to send any in as well if you’d like to inspire future installments! happy halloween! LMAO anyway.... i abandoned this wip in early oct. when i realized i should maybe focus on my big move instead of writing, kept getting sad looking at it sitting in my drafts so i decided to slap on a quick sort-of-ending and just post it cause... i love werewolf!eddie so fucking much y'all ;; he'd be the scruffiest stankiest doggo bf and i'm HERE FOR IT. not sure if this'll be continued as past me suggested but if it gets some traction i'd look into progressing the story! hope you enjoy!

Your knuckles are a ghostly white, latched to the steering wheel where your thumb rubs hard into the frayed edge of the wheel cover, anxious and tense. Eddie had been radio silent for the third day now, Hellfire had gathered in the hopes that maybe he’d make some dramatic entrance after working on the materials for this session — but no Dungeon Master had shown his mischievous grin. You’d called and called, stopped by but Wayne had solemnly sent you off each time, assuring you his boy was fine — just going through a rough illness. Maybe it was selfish to think but it made you angry, if he was sick he could still pick up a phone, right? It was the honeymoon stage yet, you’d only started dating a few months back and you could admit you had a tendency to cling to him, but to be fair he seemed to be clinging to you, too. Till now, at least. Had something changed so suddenly?

You let out a heavy breath you just now realize you’d been holding and scold yourself. ‘Your thoughts aren’t always true. Wayne said he was sick so he’s sick. I can at least bring him a treat.’ Looking over at the tote bag of tupperware’d food you encourage yourself to smile and hold it as you pull into the Munson’s drive.

Wayne wasn’t home, but Eddie’s van was here, and so you collect your things and exit your car, hopping up the steps and rapping the door.

No answer.

“Eddie?”

A neighbor’s dog starts barking a few doors down. You could swear you hear something from inside, rustling and a door slamming shut.

“Eds? You in there? It’s me! I brought you some stuff.”

Nothing.

“W-Wayne said you were super sick, so…” you trail off softly, lowering your arms and heaving a sigh.

“Eddie? I know you’re home I— … I’m worried about you, I just—“ you groan softly and just set everything down on the steps, worried the more you call to him the more annoyed he’s getting.

“I’ll just… I’m setting your stuff down out here for you, okay? Don’t forget about it.” A few more moments leaned against the door, waiting for anything, but nothing comes and you can’t help a slight pang, heading back down the steps.

“…Feel better, Eds.” Glancing back you cant even look inside, the curtains all shut tight. ‘He must really be sick.’

You head home but for the rest of the night your thoughts and worries start to take over a little, unable to sit still as you pace your room and question every last interaction you’d had with him, wonder about every possible illness you knew the name of. If he’d just call, pick up when you rang, just say one word to let you know you didn’t need to worry so much.

As you’re in the middle of that thought the phone does indeed ring, and you nearly trip over yourself to get to it, ripping the receiver from the cradle and holding it tight against your ear.

“Hello??”

“…”

“… Hello? Someone there?”

“Y/N?” His voice is low, weak, obscured slightly but it’s Eddie. Oh, your heart nearly beats from your chest.

“Eddie?? Babe what the f— I’ve been so worried! Are you okay?”

“… … I- … I’m- I’m fine, promise. I’m fine.” He sounds strained.

“Are you sure? Do you need anything? I-I left you some stuff—“

“Sweetheart I— I can’t… Can’t really talk much, now… Just… Wanted to tell you, I’m okay…” There’s some rustling as though he’s covering the receiver on his end; you swear you hear him whimper.

“Eds?? Eddie please I-“ *click*

You hang onto the phone long enough for the signal to start bleeping at you as if in irritation that you’re still on the line, reminding you to set it back down in its cradle.

The clock tells you it’s close to midnight. Your brain tells you something’s very wrong.

Fifteen minutes later you’re rocking to a sudden halt in your car, once again sat in Eddie’s driveway. Same as before, Wayne isn’t home yet, and Eddie’s van is parked just beside you. The tote bag you’d left still sat on the steps.

You step out, striding up to his door with purpose and this time just trying the knob — locked. Glancing down the length of the trailer, the curtains still seemed to be drawn and there’s no discernible light peeking through, save for Eddie’s bedroom, a soft orange glow from a covered lamp indicating some presence.

Hoping to high heaven that neither Munson would hold trespassing against you, you bend down and lift the mat as you’d seen Eddie do a few times — the hidden spare key glinting at you in the moonlight. Using it on the lock, you turn the knob again and suck in a deep breath as you push the door open into an eerily silent, pitch-black living room.

“…Eddie?” Your voice is soft and hitched, trembling a little, too quiet to get anyone’s attention. Why were you kind of freaking out right now? There’s a rustle down the hall, a gruff, muffled noise and you gasp, jumping in your step. Looking down the hallway, it’s that same lightless black, until your eyes reach Eddie’s bedroom door — that orange light bleeding through the space between the door and the floor.

“E-Eddie?” You find yourself taking slow steps towards his room, eyes locked onto that strip of light. When a shadow runs across it you feel a cold sweat break over you. “Eds, seriously, seriously I’m kind of freaked out right n—“

There’s no time to react as the door slams open and crashes into the wall, a large, shivering figure in the doorway wearing Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt, but it’s ripped and stained. You can’t make it out exactly, but the light from behind it illuminates its shape — and it’s much bigger than Eddie. Rugged; shoulders heaving. But its breathing is… unnatural. Almost like there’s a growl laced in it. You stumble backwards and to the floor from the initial shock of the door flying open, hastily lifting yourself onto your elbows, and when you behold this figure you gasp a sharp, shuddering breath, trying to croak out a scream but it catches and you find you can only stutter and whimper, struggling to scurry backwards but your movements are shaky and your limbs feel frozen.

It heaves a growl, snarls but it’s eerily soft, and takes a heavy step forward, vibrating through you. Your mind screams at you to move but you’re still just scrambling, arms heavy, trying to inch yourself away as you emit low whimpers, eyes wide and unable to leave the beast before you. Its eyes glow an unnatural yellow and it’s how you know it’s staring right back into yours. You can make it out a little better now, but your mind struggles to comprehend exactly what you’re looking at.

The creature is at least seven feet tall, almost entirely covered in dark, wavy fur. Its limbs don’t fit, however, they’re too human as its fingers reach up to pull at a mane of wild, shaggy hair, and that’s when you really notice the ears. They’re tall, pointed, set back like a dog ready to lunge. Its muzzle just the same, canine and lined with sharp teeth as it snarls. Eddie’s Hellfire tee… why was it wearing that??

“E-E— Ed—die…“ The tears fall freely and you cry. ‘So this is how I’m gonna die,’ you think. ‘This monster must have eaten Eddie and now it’s gonna eat me too.’

At the sound of your voice, however, something changes quickly. The beast spasms as if struck, crouching and curling into itself as it whines. As you watch in horror, you witness the final stage of this creature's transformation. The same dark fur breaks out over rippling arm and leg muscles, as the creature whines again and groans; you gasp, watching fingers lengthen and sharpen into claws. Arms and legs swell with muscle beneath the sheath of fur, and a howl of pain twins with a sob that wracks you. Terror and fear and also... sympathy. How do you know this creature?? Why are you suddenly so sad that it's hurting.

The beast's head snaps up, yellow eyes aglow, and it... calms. It sighs, almost, relieved the worst of it is over and now its attention is locked onto you. But the menace is gone -- if anything, this creature seems worried. Upset. Sad that it's frightened you.

You're still trembling, however, still weeping silently on the floor as you just lock eyes with this hulking being in front of you. The Hellfire tee... You keep scanning, gaze wandering over the wavy fur, and something dangling from this beast's neck makes your heart drop. The shirt should have given it away, but how could you think straight when a literal werewolf was snarling and staring you down. But now, Eddie's pick hanging from it's thick, furry neck...

You take in a shuddering breath, shaking your head in disbelief. The wolf begins to whine, lowering its head, ears lowered and pulled back again but now like a dog ashamed of what it's done. You cant help a bark of a laugh, the tears continuing to spill.

"EDDIE??! WHAT THE HELL!!"

Your werewolf boyfriend barks. You swear you see his tail wag.