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corroded-hellfire · 1 month ago

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Hii!! I love your As You Wish series sm, and I was wondering if you could write about Eddie and reader's wedding because I feel like that would be so insanely cute (not that everything you write isn't insanely cute). Anyways, that's all I have to ask, have a great day!

omg hey!! I love your AYW series SO MUCH and all my friends and family can vouch for the fact that I am sat and ready every AYW Wednesday because I love your writing so much! Anyways, I was wondering if you could write about eddie and reader's wedding? we have the bachelor party and the honeymoon but i'm so curious about how you imagine the actual wedding would be? That’s all I have to say here, byeee<3

What about a sweet little callback to reader watching The Princess Bride and Eddie saying as you wish? Like in wedding vows or something 👀

thinking about AYW!Older!Eddie and reader’s first dance at their wedding being to Uptown Girl but it’s a slow dance version that Eddie sang and recorded just for the wedding 😿

I have been thinking about this story for so long! Thank you to everyone who requested and wanted to see this day too. I apologize if there are any errors in this because I I basically purged this onto paper lol. I hope you all enjoy ❤️

There are two covers of songs mentioned in this and here are links to hear how they sound! I’ve actually started making an AYW playlist! We’ll see how that goes lol

Nothing Else Matters / Uptown Girl

Words: 15.7k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Dude, your face is going to start hurting.”

Dustin watches Eddie from where he’s leaning next to the cracked window. The five men are in the small room that’s reserved for the groom and his groomsmen. The February breeze cools down the otherwise warm and small area. There’s one chair in the corner and Steve is currently perched on it, leaving the others to become wallflowers against the periwinkle paint. Lucas stands near the door, head cocked to the side as she watches Eddie excitedly pace on the opposite end of the space. Gareth is crouching near the mirror that the groom keeps checking his hair in from time to time.

“I’ve never seen him smile so much,” the former Corroded Coffin drummer says.

Eddie ignores his friends, even as all four pairs of eyes burn through his tux; their words mean nothing to him. All he can think about is you. How you’re somewhere in the same building as him, in your wedding dress, just minutes away from marrying him. He wonders if you’re as excited as he is–though he doesn’t think that’s physically possible. What kind of dress did you pick? It doesn’t matter, he knows you look perfect. He keeps picturing you walking down the aisle toward him and it’s impossible to keep the goofy smile off his face. At least there aren’t any cameras trained on him to capture this particular look.

“You two aren’t married, you don’t get it,” Steve says.

“Um.” Gareth looks at Steve and narrows his eyes. “I’ve been married for years.”

Both Lucas and Dustin snicker.

“Oh,” Steve says. “Well, I wasn’t at your wedding.”

The doorknob turns and Ryan and Luke stroll in. Ryan’s eyes are a little red, but his little brother has full-on tear tracks running down his cheeks.

“Hey.” Eddie’s at their sides in a heartbeat. “What is it?”

Luke shakes his head, a smile almost as big as his father’s on his face. Ryan also looks happy despite the evidence of past crying.

“She looks so pretty,” Luke says.

Eddie’s shoulders sag in relief and his heart thuds against his ribcage.

“So pretty that you cried?” Eddie asks, using his thumb to wipe off the nine-year-old’s cheek.

“Oh yeah,” Luke answers. “You’re going to cry, too.”

“We all knew that,” Dustin says, making the rest of the guys chuckle.

“Okay, you’re definitely not married,” Steve says, raising his eyebrows at his younger friend.

Ryan tilts his head as he inspects his father, and Eddie catches the look out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” he asks his oldest.

“You’re like…lighter.” Ryan shakes his head, not happy with the words he’s chosen. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“He’s so happy!” Luke provides.

“Yeah.” Ryan nods his head. “So happy you look different. But in a good way.”

“I look okay?” Eddie asks, reaching up to smooth out his hair for the hundredth time in the last hour.

“You look really good,” Luke says. Though no new tears form in his eyes, the little boy’s voice is thick with emotion. He had no idea this day would be so much–he was just expecting the fun from the party later.

Ryan tugs on the lapels of his dad’s coat before giving the man a thumbs up. Instinctively, Eddie goes to ruffle the eleven-year-old’s hair but at the last moment remembers it’s gelled down nicely already.

“You guys all ready to go?” Eddie asks.

“Just need our stuff,” Luke says, gesturing to the cardboard box in the corner.

Gareth is the closest one, so he slides it towards the boys. Luke opens it and pulls out Ryan’s prop first. It’s a small wooden box, hand-painted by both boys, you, and Eddie. You’d had a family craft night about a week ago where each of you got to paint one side of the box any way that you’d like. Luke painted a big sun and a blue sky on his side, and Ryan had painted stick figures of the four of you, each slightly altered to look more like yourselves. You had painted two large red hearts with one singular black arrow going through both of them, and Eddie painted two large golden rings intertwined with both of your initials in them.

Ryan takes the box from his brother and opens it. Two silver rings gleam up at him from the inside, as well as two pink carnations. Next, Luke pulls out a large Ziploc bag and shakes it enthusiastically.

“I’m ready to load up!” he says.

Eddie chuckles and kisses Luke’s head before there’s a knock on the door. The venue coordinator pops her head in and gives all the men a smile. She’s a small elderly lady that reminds Eddie of Queen Elizabeth for some reason. He has to keep reminding himself that her name is Janet and not to accidentally refer to her with the monarch’s name instead.

“Are we ready?” she asks.

“Very,” Eddie answers.

“Alright.” She smiles at the boys and smooths down the rosy skirt she’s wearing. “Time to come with me, boys.”

Luke throws his arms around his dad, which is almost enough to get Eddie choked up.

“See you in a few minutes!” Luke says, giving his father an extra tight squeeze.

“I can’t wait to see your little performance, pal.” Eddie grins and presses a kiss to the side of the nine-year-old’s head.

“Eh, I know I’m just the warmup act.” Luke steps back from Eddie and sketches an overdramatic bow. “I cannot compare to the beautiful princess!”

“Nah, you’re the troll under the bridge,” Ryan teases good-naturedly as he tugs his brother towards the door. “Bye, Dad.”

“I love you guys,” Eddie calls after them.

“Love you too!” Come twin replies as the door closes behind them.

The moment the boys left your dressing area to go find their dad, honest to goodness butterflies started spiraling around in your stomach. It’s impossible not to smile to yourself in the full-length mirror. The A-line gown conforms to your body perfectly; accentuating every curve and stretch of your body. The sweetheart neckline and short lace sleeves show off just enough decolletage for the silver necklace hanging around your neck to shine. The two intwined hearts with an emerald in the middle that Eddie had given you seemed the obvious choice to wear today. As a surprise, Nancy bought you emerald stud earrings to match it. They gleam in the light when you inspect them in the mirror.

“Max, can you hand me the veil?” Gin asks.

“Yeah, here you go. Alright, I’m going to head out to the holding space to meet the boys when they’re done with Eddie. Not that I don’t trust them not to get into mischief back there on their own, but…well, I don’t.”

You giggle and nod to Max as she opens the dressing room door and slips out. She crosses paths with your mom as she steps into the room. In the mirror you can see tears flooding her eyes as Gin situates your veil just right in your pristine hair.

“Aw, Mom,” you say with a chuckle.

“Are we surprised she’s crying?” Gin asks you with a snort.

“Not at all,” you reply.

“You look so beautiful, sweetheart,” your mom says.

“Thanks,” Gin replies before you can open your mouth.

Your mother tuts and you playfully swat at your older sister.

“Thank you, Mom.”

“Are we just about ready?” your mom asks. “I’m not trying to rush you, I promise, it’s just that I saw the two most adorable little boys out there and I’m ready to have them officially be my grandsons.”

Hearing those words from your mother adds another layer of emotion to your already giddy state. Your family is joining Eddie’s family. You and Eddie are joining. You are going to be a Munson now and for the rest of your life.

Giving yourself one more look over in the mirror, you nod to yourself, then turn to look at your bridesmaids. The deep purple gowns look stunning on them, despite the across the board differences in coloring and body shape. They flatter your friends and sister so well that it starts another round of tears pressing behind your eyes. Determined to push these ones away, you shake your head and take a step towards your mom.

“I think we’re ready.”

Your mother nods and reaches for the doorknob. As she pulls it open, it reveals you in all your bridal glory to your dad, who is standing on the other side. A softness grows on his face that you’ve never seen before.

“My baby girl,” he says, his right hand coming to smack down over his heart. “All grown up.”

“Daaad,” you whine, but beam at the praise, nonetheless.

“You look perfect, honey.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

You loop your arm through his and your mom walks on your other side. The three bridesmaids trail along behind you, the sound of several pairs of heels clicking along the hardwood floors with the absence of a rhythm.

“She’s here!”

Luke’s voice carries across the sparsely furnished holding space. You grin and wave at the boys once they’re in your line of sight.

“Ready to rock and roll, little Munsons?” you ask.

Ryan gestures to the box in his hand and nods, while Luke pats his bulging pants pockets with an almost maniacal smile on his face.

“Everything is all set in there.” Janet slips in from the main room and gently closes the large double doors behind her. “We’re ready to go whenever you are.”

Max scoops up the large brown wicker basket that is carrying the bouquets for you and each bridesmaid. She hands Nancy, Jess, and Gin their bouquets of white roses and violets. When she gets to you, Max hands you the red roses and baby’s breath, her face full of pure joy and pride.

“Ryan?” Janet smiles kindly at the older boy. “Are you ready to escort the mother of the bride to her seat?”

Your soon-to-be-son nods and adjusts his posture so he’s standing up taller. He hands the wooden box to Luke for the moment and walks over to your mother. Though he is much shorter than the older woman, he offers him her arm all the same.

Before she loops her arm through his, your mom pulls you in for a hug.

“Congratulations, my beautiful daughter. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” These goddamn emotions are driving you wild and you haven’t even laid eyes on Eddie yet. You know you’re screwed and it’s inevitable that you will cry—it’d just be nice to push it off for as long as possible because there’s a good chance it won’t stop once it starts.

Janet holds the door open, and you watch Ryan and your mom walk through. That’s my mom with my son. It’s not the first time the boys have seen your parents, but watching Ryan and your mom walk towards the aisle, arm in arm with one another? It’s an utterly serene feeling, all the puzzle pieces in your life slotting together perfectly. And so far, they’re creating a beautiful picture.

“Alright,” Janet says, coming back over towards you. “I believe that Max will be the first bridesmaid out, yes?”

“Yes,” you affirm just as the aforementioned woman steps up to take her spot at the front of the line. “Then Nancy.”

Nancy gives your shoulder a playful nudge as she passes by you to take her place behind Max. You smile and fight the urge to tug on one of her immaculately styled curls.

Next up is Gin, then Jess, the maid of honor, capping off the bridesmaids. Ryan pops through the door just in time to join his brother at the end of the line. Ryan will go first, then Luke. And after that? Every eye will be on you as your father walks you down the aisle. The thought is nerve wracking honestly, but you’ve been assured by many people that once you see Eddie, it’ll be like no one else is in the room. It’s not hard for you to believe either since that is something that happens on a daily basis when you see him anyway.

As you and your father move into position, you notice both Luke and Ryan watching you.

“What��s up, bubs?” you ask, looking up to meet their eyes as you settle into your place.

“Nothing,” Luke says with a smile and a shake of his head. “Just excited.”

“Me too.” You lower your bouquet and gently boop it against the tip of Luke’s nose.

Ryan doesn’t speak, but the look on his face says it all. He’s happy. He’s not afraid to be happy, either. Joy can run rampant now that this little family is becoming official.

Music begins playing, and though it’s soft through the solid oak double doors, you can still make out the instrumental cover of Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters that you and Eddie chose to begin the ceremony with. Eddie is very lucky he was able to find this particular rendition of the song because when he first mentioned having Nothing Else Matters played before the ceremony, you were ready to shove the spoon cradling milk and Cheerios in your hand down his throat. But this version is beautiful and now, hearing it play out there, you know it was absolutely the right call. It just adds another personal touch to your wedding. Neither you nor Eddie wanted some stiff, formal affair. This wedding is meant to reflect the two of you; both as individuals and as a couple. A simple, sweet, loving ceremony with friends and family.

“Ready, ladies?” Janet asks, not waiting for a response. “Max, you’re up.”

This is it. The wedding is officially starting. The groaning of the large double doors opening makes your stomach feel as if it’s about to make an escape from your body. Max steps forward and the sound of her heels as she walks down the aisle sets your body on fire. This is happening. It’s finally here.

“All good, pumpkin?” your dad asks softly.

“Yeah,” you breathe out with a rush of air. “I’m so excited.”

Luke turns around and gives you a mischievous smile.

“Don’t worry,” he says quietly, “if you get nervous just imagine everyone in their underwear!”

You giggle and gently bop the top of his head with your bouquet.

Next, you see Nancy disappear as she takes her turn down the aisle. Did she really wait the twenty seconds Janet instructed for between bridesmaids? Of course she did, you tell yourself. It just seems like time is trying to skip ahead, wanting to jump to the part where it’s your turn to walk down the aisle, your elegant shoes walking over the white runner. At the same time though, it feels like it will be an eternity until your turn finally arrives. How is time contradicting itself right before your very eyes?

It’s Gin’s turn now. Hold twenty seconds, now Jess. But the doors close before the boys can make their grand entrance. In true Munson fashion, they have to wait for the right musical cue.

Nothing Really Matters fades out, leaving silence for a few beats before Slash’s iconic opening guitar riff of Sweet Child O’ Mine plays overhead.

Your eyes fall on the boys and their excitement and eagerness to get going warms your heart. There is no way anyone could possibly ever have the coolest, funniest, most loving stepsons like you do.

“Ready?” you ask them.

“Yeah!” Luke cheers.

“Go ahead, my little Lord of the Rings.” You blow a kiss to the first boy up.

Ryan nods before giving a smile to Janet to let her know it’s okay to open the doors again.

A different vibe permeates the air now that the music has switched from instrumental to pure rock. It’s lighter, calmer, and more relaxed. All the things that those three Munson men make you feel on a daily basis.

Ryan takes a deep breath and takes his first step forward right as Axl Rose comes in with the lyrics. But to you, everything fades into the background except your boys. The back of Ryan’s head bobs down the aisle and you’re already looking forward to watching the video recording of the wedding so you can see how this looks from the front. Your oldest smiles at some people seated on either side of the aisle but mostly keeps a steady pace as he makes his way towards the altar. The eleven-year-old has never been much for the spotlight, so he’s probably relieved when he and the wooden box make it to the front of the room.

Now, on the flip side of that coin, Luke thrives as the center of attention.

“Have fun, Lord of the Petals!” You give him a wink.

He looks over his shoulder and throws a wink at you in return before he starts to walk—no, strut—down the aisle. Luke makes it about a quarter down the aisle before he stops and jumps up and down in time with the drum, his hands making little rock and roll signs as he does. When he lands, his legs are spread shoulder length apart. He whips his head to the right—where the groom’s side is seated—and his eyes find Mia Harrington in the crowd. Since both of her parents are part of the wedding party, Mia is seated with her siblings and her Aunt Holly and Uncle Mike. When the almost five-year-old sees that Luke’s attention is on her, her cheeks turn as pink as the tulle dress she’s wearing.

Luke smiles and points to her and juts his hip out in the same direction his arm is raised. The heel of his black Oxford taps along with the beat of the song as he slowly lets his arm fall back down to his side. A few people in the audience chuckle at Luke’s adorable performance. But you know they haven’t seen anything yet.

As the song winds up towards his cue, Luke slips his hands inside his pockets and takes one small step forward.

Sweet love of mine

Luke’s hands come flying out of his pockets, red rose petals flying into the air just as the guitar solo fills the room. They rain down like confetti on those guests closest to the aisle, the white runner beneath his feet, and on Luke himself.

The laughter grows as Luke steps forward, making his way up the aisle as he gathers more supplies from his pockets, and spins around on one foot, letting more petals ricochet into the air in a spiral. Luke looks up at Eddie standing at the altar and gives him a big grin. The grin grows even larger when he sees the happiness and laughter on his father’s face as well.

Where do we go?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go?

As the outro of the song rolls in, Luke fills up on petals once more and tosses them in indiscriminate directions at every “where do we go?” that Guns N’ Roses sing.

It turns out he proportioned the petals well, because when he comes to the end of the aisle, Luke has just enough left to sprinkle them up to the altar.

Before the song ends, Ryan opens the lid of the wooden box in his hands and Luke plucks out two whole pink carnations. With a smile, he smells each of them. Then, he proceeds a few steps back to the aisle to present one of the flowers to your mother. She kisses his cheek in thanks, then Luke skips across the aisle and hands the other flower to Wayne. His grandpa chuckles and happily accepts it from Luke before tucking it into the front pocket of his suit jacket. It gives the black material a pop of color.

As the final notes of the song play, Ryan and Luke stand together just in front of the altar and bow. The crowd gives them an enthusiastic round of applause, and there are even a few whistles and cheers. The two share a laugh before heading over to stand in their designated spots next to Lucas.

The doors at the back remain open this time but there is another music change. The opening notes of Here Comes the Bride begin to play and suddenly your skin feels like it’s vibrating. The time has come to play your part in this show. But what better of an opening act could you have asked for with those adorable boys?

“Ready?” your dad asks softly.

It’s one of the easiest questions you’ve ever answered.

“Yes.”

Together, you walk towards the main room and pause in the open doorway. Both sides of the guests rise from their seats and it’s surreal to think they’re all standing because you walked into the room. Every eye is on you as you begin walking again, and you take a quick chance to look around at the family and friends gathered here, because you know they’ll all become invisible to you the moment you see Eddie waiting up there for you.

You take a deep breath before you allow yourself to look up at the altar. And there he stands. Beautiful as ever but seeing him in a tux really takes your breath away. Thank God you took that deep one just a moment ago or you fear you’d be flat out on the runner. His hair is tucked into a bun at the base of his neck and shorter pieces frame his face in the way that you simply adore. And there are tears in his eyes.

Until you saw the water welling up in those dark brown eyes, you were overstimulated enough by the excitement of the moment to not think about crying yourself. But now the two of you match, tears building as you watch one another, then both chuckling softly as you realize you’re both crying.

As you and your father approach the altar, Eddie steps forward to receive you from him. Your dad kisses your cheek, then transfers your hand from his own into Eddie’s.

The moment your skin touches his everything feels right. The madness, the excitement, the hubbub of the whole day has led to this serene moment. Your hand is where it belongs forevermore: in Eddie’s.

“You look beautiful,” Eddie whispers loud enough for only you to hear as you take your spots at the altar, in front of the officiate. Jess takes your bouquet from you so you can properly hold your betrothed’s hands.

“Thank you.” You feel your face heat up regardless of how many times Eddie has told you that over the years. It’s different now that you’re in your wedding gown. Every item you put together for this look, every moment of time spent on it, was in the hopes that Eddie would think it looks good on you. Of course, deep down you know that you could have worn a garbage bag, and he would’ve thought you looked nice, but you happen to agree with him when it comes to your wedding look. You do look beautiful.

The officiant steps towards the two of you, and you mostly look at him and offer a smile out of politeness. All of your attention yearns to be on Eddie. How heart-stoppingly handsome he looks in his tuxedo. The bow tie around his collar somehow looks both out of place on your metalhead fiancé, and also utterly swoon worthy. Your already rapid heart rate speeds up when you take in the details of his hair up close. It’s tied back at the nape of his neck, not in a ponytail, but in a bun, the way he knows drives you crazy. It must be written plain as day on your face that you’re checking him out because Eddie gives you a wink and tries to keep his smile from contorting into a satisfied smirk. Who can blame you though? You know you’re the luckiest woman in the world to be standing up here with him.

“Welcome,” the officiant begins, “and welcome to the family, friends, and loved ones of our beautiful couple. We are here to witness and celebrate this joyous union. Marriage is a bond built on love, trust, and mutual respect, and today, these two stand before us to declare their commitment to one another. As they exchange their vows, they invite us to share in their joy and to support them in the journey ahead.”

You hear what the man is saying, but your brain is doing its damndest to train your focus on Eddie. He holds your hands in his and lets his thumbs gently brush over your knuckles. When his right thumb passes over where your engagement ring usually sits, both of you notice the lack thereof. It feels wrong not to be wearing it, but you know it’s only until Eddie slips another ring on your finger. Then the two will live together on your hand for the rest of time.

“If anyone here has just cause why these two should not be joined in marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Silence follows the officiant’s words. You knew it would, but something about watching any wedding movie ever has planted the dreaded “what if” in the back of your mind. But there’s no one in attendance who thinks you and Eddie are less than perfect for each other.

Just as he opens his mouth to continue, a small but audible whisper is heard from one small voice behind Eddie.

“Wow, they really do say that.”

A handful of adults close enough to hear Luke’s words—including both you and Eddie—chuckle softly. From what you can see past Eddie, it looks like Ryan tugs his little brother backwards a step or two to be closer to him. Big brother has no trouble keeping Luke in line right now.

“Let’s move on to the vows,” the officiant continues. “I believe these two have written their own that they’d like to share. Ladies first?”

You nod and glance over at the officiant who nods encouragingly at you. Talking in front of a lot of people who are all focused on you is a bit overwhelming if you’re not used to it. But Eddie gently squeezes your hands and when you look back at him, his eyes say everything. These vows aren’t for the people watching. They’re not for anyone else but each other.

A large inhale fills your lungs, and you let it out slowly. You give Eddie a nod in thanks. All that matters in this moment is Eddie and the words you promise to uphold in your marriage.

“Eddie, the first time I ever saw you is still so clear in my mind. You opened the front door, and I quite literally forgot how to breathe for a moment. I’ve never been someone who has believed in love at first sight. But when I saw you, I knew you held the future of my heart in your hands; you could break it or fill it with more joy than it’s ever known. And as time went on, there were ups and downs, bumps, and hurdles, but there was never a second when you didn’t still hold my heart. Every milestone, big or small, is etched not only in my brain, but in my soul. Little things that you may not have even noticed at the time, like the first time I made you laugh? I remember it so vividly because I felt euphoric. Our moments and memories together are part of who I am. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to spend the rest of my life with. And I will spend every single day of that life being there for you in whatever way you need me. For you and the boys. My family—my whole world. My heart is still in your hands. You’ve filled it with so much love and happiness that I don’t know how any more is going to fit inside. I know it will, though. Because we still have a lifetime ahead of us to add to it.”

Eddie’s chocolate eyes are swimming in unshed tears. A watery smile plays on his lips, and he swallows thickly. His hands squeeze yours just as a tear spills from his right eye. You have to sniffle yourself just to keep your tears at bay.

The warmth and love that Eddie gazes at you with on any given day will never cease to amaze you. But the absolute adoration in his eyes right now makes you feel more cherished than you thought possible.

“That was beautiful.” The officiant commends you. “Edward? Your vows?”

Your fiancé nods and clears his throat. So much emotion has washed over him in just the past few minutes that he feels the need to shake it off or there’s no way in hell he’ll be able to get through his own vows.

“My princess,” Eddie starts, the nickname causing you to beam, “you are very literally a dream come true. I could live to be older than all the elves in Middle-Earth and still not be able to figure out what I’ve done to deserve you. You’ve seen me at my worst, but you never balked or made me feel less than. If anything, you held my hand tighter in those moments. I promise to never let go of your hand either. I promise to spend every day trying to make you feel as loved and safe as you make me feel. Do you remember the first day we met? Well, you mentioned it in your vows, but I already had that line written in so we’re just gonna go with it.” You giggle as a few laughs ring out from the seats as well. “You played the board game Trouble with me and the boys. Luke started to get upset because he couldn’t move, and you calmed him down with a natural ease I’ve never seen in anyone else. And Ryan talked about school, and you hung on his every word, truly enthralled in what he had to say. Ryan won the game that day. He got all four of his little pieces into the home spots. Today, I won, because you are the fourth piece officially taking your spot in our home. You make all of us better. You make it your mission to show me and the boys how much you love us each and every day.” Eddie pauses, collecting himself for a moment before continuing. “There were so many things I lost hope for in my life. But you have proved me wrong at every turn. You are my proof that there is hope because you are my hope. Getting to call you my wife is the greatest honor. You deserve the world, and I promise to spend the rest of my life loving you exactly as you wish.”

When he finishes speaking, you go to remove your left hand from his to wipe away a tear falling down your cheek, but Eddie beats you to it. Gently, he brushes the tear away with his thumb and retakes your hand in his own.

“It’s time for the rings,” the officiant says. He looks down towards the boys and smiles. “I believe we have a ring bearer—oh no, excuse me, we have a Lord of the Rings.”

A small murmur of laughter comes from the crowd.

Ryan walks around Lucas to stand before you and Eddie. He lifts the lid of the wooden box and gently lifts the rings from their small cushion inside. He first hands you Eddie’s wedding ring, then hands his father yours. You blow the eleven-year-old a kiss and Eddie throws him a wink before he goes back to take his spot next to his little brother.

“The wedding ring is a symbol of love, unity, and the promises you make today. As you place these rings on each other’s hands, may they remind you always of the commitment you share. Edward, let’s start with you. Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love, honor, and stand beside her for all your days?”

“I do.”

Eddie’s enthusiasm with the two words was the opposite of hesitation. He was chomping at the bit for the officiant to finish so he could proclaim his declaration of love.

“Now repeat after me,” the officiant says. “With this ring, I thee wed. I give you my love and my promise, now and forever.”

“With this ring,” Eddie repeats, slipping the white gold band past the manicured nail on your ring finger, “I thee wed. I give you my love and my promise, now and forever.” He settles the ring securely at the base of your finger.

Tears trickle from your eyes as you watch him slip the ring onto your hand. You’re so mesmerized by the tiny diamonds that litter the band and how they catch the light that you almost don’t realize it’s your turn to present Eddie with his own ring.

The officiant gives you a kind, understanding smile before continuing.

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love, honor, and stand beside him for all your days?”

“I do.”

Right next to saying “yes” to Eddie’s proposal, this was the easiest question you’ve ever answered.

“Repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed. I give you my love and my promise, now and forever.”

Your hand gently tremors with excitement as you lift Eddie’s matching band to his left ring finger.

“With this ring, I thee wed.” You look up at Eddie’s face and find him watching you with the most lovestruck expression on his face. It makes your pulse flutter. “I give you my love and my promise, now and forever.”

“By the power vested in me by the state of Indiana, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

The words have barely finished coming out of the officiant’s mouth when Eddie gently cups the sides of your face and presses his lips against yours. Your hands go forward and land on Eddie’s waist as you kiss him back with fervor. In your periphery you’re aware of the giddy applause surrounding you, but nothing is as important as your husband’s mouth on yours right now. Your husband’s. It has such a lovely ring to it.

It seems like seconds or hours later that the two of you finally pull apart. Time has stopped and you are the only two who exist. The bubble only pops when the officiant speaks again.

“It is my honor to present Mr. and Mrs. Edward Munson.”

“Mrs. Munson,” Eddie repeats, low enough for only you to hear.

“My husband,” you reply in kind.

The cheering around you only grows in ferocity and volume. Eddie laces the fingers of his left hand with the fingers of your right and together you turn to face the crowd. The first thing you notice as your eyes scan the people is that Wayne is crying. Thick tears roll down his cheeks, but he looks the happiest you have ever seen him. Your mother is also crying, though you expected that one. Little Tiffany Sinclair sits next to the four Harrington children, and they all clap their small hands together, Mia bouncing up and down in excitement. Friends, family, co-workers, all gathered here to share in this momentous occasion. It’s a bit overwhelming to look out and see all this support. All this love.

The Wedding March begins to play and that’s your and Eddie’s cue to head back down the aisle. Your feet feel like they’re gliding through clouds as you take your first steps off the altar. Eddie’s hand is snugly in yours and Jess hands you back your bouquet before you get too far down the aisle without it. You shoot her a grateful glance, then turn back to the filled seats, grinning at people as you pass them.

You don’t look behind you, but you remember from the rehearsal yesterday how the rest of the bridal party will exit behind you. First, Steve and Jess will walk out together, as the best man and maid of honor. Then, Ryan and Luke will make their way back up the aisle. After them, Gin and Dustin. Nancy and Gareth will follow them, and then Max and Lucas will bring up the rear.

Once you and Eddie reach the atrium and have a moment to yourselves, you turn to face each other and find you have matching expressions of giddiness and excitement radiating from you in waves.

“Oh my God,” you say.

“We’re married,” Eddie says.

The two of you share a euphoric laugh as you lean in to kiss each other again.

Steve and Jess walk in as your lips are still attached, but that doesn’t stop the respective best friends from whooping and hollering their congratulations at you. The moment your lips are no longer touching Eddie’s, you’re being pulled in for hugs by both of them.

“You did it!” Jess cheers.

“It was beautiful, guys,” Steve adds.

“Incoming, incoming!”

You’d know that little voice anywhere. As soon as they’re past the threshold into the atrium, both boys come running at you at full speed. Their dress shoes squeak against the floor as they hurry towards you with faces full of glee.

Luke makes it to you first and practically leaps into Eddie’s arms. Ryan’s there a heartbeat later, immediately throwing his arms around your middle and squeezing you tighter than any corset ever could.

“You’re married!” Ryan cheers.

“We’re married!” Eddie echoes.

Luke wriggles out of his father’s grip and jumps up and down in front of both of you, excitement more intense than any amount of sugar could cause. Ryan goes to hug his dad next, who gently cups the back of the boy’s head and leans down to press a few kisses against his gelled hair.

“You’re our stepmom!” Luke pumps his fists into the air as he starts to jump around in a circle.

“You’re my sons!” Saying those words aloud brings a fresh wave of tears. Unable to express your love and happiness any other way, you bend down and gather both boys into your arms. They cling to you as you wrap them up in the warmest of embraces.

“I love you,” Ryan says softly.

“Me too,” Luke adds. “I love you too.”

“I love you both so unbelievably much,” you tell them. “I promise I’m going to be the best stepmom I can.”

“You already have been,” Ryan says.

The rest of the bridal party crowds into the atrium and you and Eddie are pulled into countless more hugs. It’s a flash of violet dresses and black tuxes as everyone mingles to embrace one another.

Gin pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you ponder if she’s ever hugged you like this before.

“I am so proud of you,” your sister says. “And so, so happy for you.”

“Thank you.” You pull back and look at one another. Laughter bubbles up in the space between you and she pulls you in for another hug. Gin’s wedding to her husband Owen was much more low-key, only at a local courthouse. So, this is the first time you two sisters get to have this experience with each other.

Wayne bustles into the atrium, a grin splitting his face in half like you’ve never seen before. The older man goes to give you a hug first, which Eddie acts like is a capital offense.

“I’m so happy for you, kiddo,” Wayne says, gently resting his hands on your shoulder. “Both of you.”

Eddie steps in to hug his uncle and it’s enough to spill any remaining tears down your face.

“I’m so proud of you, boy,” Wayne says, smacking Eddie on the shoulder with one hand and wiping his face with the other. “You got yourself a good one. Ed. More than a good one. A great one.”

Heat rises to your cheeks. Eddie’s only response Is a smile that says he already knows that.

“Grandpa!” The two boys get their hands on Wayne, and he is brought into the fray of people, leaving you and your sister with one another.

“My baby!”

You turn to see your parents coming towards you and your mom immediately envelops both you and Gin into a hug. It’s almost impossible to breathe with the way your mom practically pressed your face against her shoulder.

“Darling, don’t kill the girls on such a special day,” your father says, coming up behind your mother.

“I think she’s trying to put us back in the womb,” Gin mumbles from wherever face is squished against the side of your mom’s neck.

“Are we ready for pictures?” The photographer slowly approaches the group, not wanting to interrupt or intrude.

“Yes,” you say, taking the excuse to pull out of your mother’s arms. “We were thinking of taking some back inside.”

It takes a little over an hour to get all the desired pictures taken. Some up by the altar, some in the middle of the aisle, and even some down by the pond tucked into the back corner of the property. There are so many combinations of friends and family members that it feels like you had a smile plastered on your face for ages. Luke decided he was a little model and kept coming up with poses for everyone to do. The most heartwarming, though, is that each boy wants a picture with you individually. Yeah, one with Ryan and you and Eddie, and then the same for Luke. But they both want a one-on-one photo with you. It’s almost enough to make you cry, but then Luke stubs his toe and says, “dang flabbit,” causing you to laugh instead. You’re also pretty sure the photographer got a shot of him just as he squeezed his eyes shut in pain. It’s going to be an interesting wedding album, that’s for sure.

Your favorite pictures to take are the ones of just you and Eddie, though. Pictures where you’re gazing into one another’s eyes, while holding hands, while you’re wrapped up in Eddie’s arms, while he kisses you so deeply that the world spins around you. A particular shot of his hands on your hips from behind and you turning your head to look at him, booming smiles on both your faces is one you already know you want blown up to hang in the living room.

Once all the photos are finished and most of the guests have cleared out to head to the reception, it’s time for you, your families, and wedding party to follow in kind.

Two long black stretch limos wait at the curb, a uniformed driver standing ready to open the back door for its passengers. Both your parents and Wayne insisted on driving over to the reception themselves, so these limos are just for you and the wedding party.

“Come on, you two.” You hold your bouquet in one hand and reach for Luke’s with the other. Eddie rests his hands on Ryan’s shoulders and gently ushers him along to the first limo.

“We’re riding with you guys?” Ryan asks.

“Of course,” Eddie says.

“We’re one big happy family now,” you add.

The driver opens the back door as your bridal party is ushered into the limo behind yours. Luke pops his head inside first and looks back at the rest of you with a slack jaw.

“There are lights on the ceiling in here!”

“What?” Ryan shoos his brother fully inside so he can take a look for himself. “Whoa!”

After the boys are exploring the interior, Eddie offers you his hand so he can assist you into the limo. Truth be told, it would probably have been easier to do it on your own but you’re not about to turn down your husband’s lovely gesture. Eddie makes sure that all of your dress comes in behind you before he slides in as well. The driver closes the door behind him, and you watch the boys look around in awe.

Luke reaches up and runs his fingers along the lights bordering the interior ceiling. Ryan looks over at the bar that Eddie is sitting across from. Small hands run down the bar as Ryan’s eyes take in every glass that sits in wait. When it gets to the end of the bar, he sees two bottles.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“Ah,” Eddie hums as he leans forward to pick up both bottles. “These are for our celebration.”

Ryan sits down next to his father as the limo begins to drive down the street. He carefully takes one of the bottles and inspects its label.

“Sparkling grape juice?”

“For you and your brother,” you say.

“And champagne for us adults,” Eddie adds.

“C’mere, Luke.” You pat the seat next to you and Luke crawls along the floor until he comes to the back bench that’s facing forward. He pulls himself up into the seat and Ryan takes the seat catty cornered from him on the bench that’s facing the bar.

Eddie grabs four glasses from the bar and hands them out to everyone. He then takes a seat next to Ryan and pops open the bottle of sparkling grape juice.

“Now don’t drink it until we have a toast,” Eddie tells the boys as he fills their glasses. He grabs the champagne bottle next and unwraps the foil around the top. “Alright, let’s see if I can get this cork out.”

The three of you watch Eddie as he takes the cage off of the cork and angles the bottle away from everyone. He gives the cork a little twist and it jumps out with a satisfying pop.

“Yay!” you cheer as you and the boys applaud.

Eddie grins as he pours the first glass and hands it to you. He pours his own before setting the champagne bottle down in an ice bucket on the bar across from him. He lifts his glass in the air and the rest of you follow.

“To the newly official Munson family!” Eddie toasts. “I love the three of you more than anything in the entire world. I can’t wait to see what kind of adventures and trouble we all get into together.”

“Hear, hear!” You echo as everyone clinks their glasses together.

The bubbles tickle Luke’s nose as he takes a sip, and he laughs into the glass.

“This is good,” Ryan says before taking a second sip.

“So is this.” Eddie raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise as he looks down into his glass.

“Only the best for us Munsons, right?” you ask.

“Yeah!” Luke cheers.

He holds his glass up again and everyone clinks together for a second time.

The limo approaches the reception hall and both boys flock to the window, hands leaving behind smudged fingerprints as the two stare in awe at the large building. Your reception is being held at an old barn that’s been renovated into a banquet hall on the far edge of Hawkins. It’s a tall, sturdy building, the outside painted white with beautiful strings of light hung up all around the perimeter. The parking lot is decently full, with familiar cars like the Wheeler’s already there.

“Whoa,” Luke says, eyes taking in every inch of the rustic location.

“It’s huge,” Ryan says.

“Wait until you see the chandelier inside,” Eddie tells them. “It’s gigantic because it has to light up such a big space.”

Instead of pulling up to the front of the building, the limo goes around to the side, the second one following behind, to allow you all to walk into a side entrance.

The boys hop out and Eddie helps you out of the limo, helping to straighten the skirts of your dress out. You can’t help but press a quick kiss to his lips before you head inside.

There’s a spacious room set into the side of the building that you four and the whole bridal party fall into. Your parents and Wayne join you there. Though you had your own champagne (and grape juice) toast in the limo, the staff at the banquet hall has provided another bottle of champagne for you to have a toast with the whole wedding party.

“To the Munsons!” Steve cheers.

There are hoots and hollers of agreement before everyone, sans the children, drains their glasses.

You all get to relax there for a little over twenty minutes while the rest of the guests filter inside and find their seats. The staff are on top of everything as well. They make sure you are all comfortable in your holding room while also getting any last-minute details finished out in the hall.

“How long are we gonna be here?” Luke whines. He stretches across the laps of Max and Lucas where they sit on a couch. Max tickles the little boy on the side of his ribs and he curls in on himself with a laugh.

“Not too much more, bud,” Eddie tells him. “Then they’re going to announce us all when we walk into the party area.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan asks.

Eddie crouches down next to his oldest son and straightens his adorable bow tie.

“The DJ out there has a microphone and he’s going to call two names at a time. Like, he’ll call Aunt Max and Uncle Lucas’s names and then they’ll walk in together.”

“Because we’re all special!” Luke declares. “We’re in the party!”

Dustin looks over at Lucas and one side of his mouth quirks up in a smile.

“Weren’t we, like, their age when we started our party?” he asks.

“Shi—uh, shoot. We’re old.” Lucas sighs and wipes his hand down his face.

“I know what you were gonna say,” Luke tells his uncle, giving him a devious smirk.

“Nuh uh,” Lucas playfully whines, taking his turn to tickle Luke. The boy squeals and unsuccessfully tries to roll off the adults’ laps.

The door opens and the event coordinator pops his head inside.

“We’re ready whenever you all are,” he says.

“I think we’re ready,” Eddie says, looking to you for confirmation.

You nod and step forward to take his hand.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

Those who were sitting stand up and Ryan gently tugs on Eddie’s hand.

“Do we line up again?” he asks.

“Yep,” his dad tells him. “You and Luke are going to be right before the beautiful bride again. And me.”

“The gorgeous groom,” you gush, slipping your arms around his waist. Eddie grins and leans in to press his mouth against yours.

“Ugh,” Luke groans, already over all the public displays of affection today. “Come on, come on.”

The speakers crackle to life in the banquet hall, catching the attention of the guests mingling with one another at their respective tables. The DJ taps the microphone, testing it before he speaks.

“Hello, everyone!” he says. “My name is Jake, and I will be your emcee for the evening. We are all here to celebrate a very happy day. How about we get the stars of the show in here, huh?”

The applause from the guests can be heard on the other side of the door leading into the hall, where you and the entire wedding party stand. There are loose lines leading up to the door, nothing strict like before the ceremony, since this is a much more relaxed atmosphere. Plus, everyone knows their name will be called when their turn is up.

The first announced into the reception are your parents, followed by Wayne. You and Eddie stand at the back of the group, hand in hand as you watch some of your favorite people be announced into the room.

“Now, please welcome Max Mayfield-Sinclair and Lucas Sinclair!”

Luke pretends to usher the couple through the door when their names are called. Lucas smiles and tugs on a curl that’s gone rogue on the nine-year-old’s head before he heads through the door with his wife.

“Nancy Harrington and Dustin Henderson!”

The boys become rambunctious, waiting their turns as Gin and Gareth are announced next.

“Us now?” Luke asks.

“After us, you little goblin,” Steve teases, gesturing to Jess, who loops her arm through Steve’s.

“Next we have the maid of honor, Jess Oldford, and the best man, Steve Harrington!”

Ryan and Luke take their spots right in front of the door, Ryan bouncing on the balls of his feet and Luke rubbing his hands together in anticipation. You and Eddie share a look of amusement as the four of you await hearing their names.

“I’ve been told these next two don’t want their names announced,” the DJ teases, as Eddie had secretly instructed him to.

“No! Yes, we do!” Luke shouts from behind the door.

You bury your face into Eddie’s neck to muffle your giggles while the laughter from the guests outside rings out loud and clear.

“Oh, okay, I must’ve had that mixed up,” Jake says, amusement leaking into his tone. “These are very special guests; that must be it!”

The two Munson brothers look at one another and nod their agreement.

“Please welcome the Lord of the Rings, Ryan Munson, and Lord of the Petals, Luke Munson!”

Ryan pushes the door open, and you lean forward to watch the boys bound into the banquet hall to loud applause. Luke is clearly basking in it while his older brother shyly takes it all in. The bridesmaids are lined up on the right side and the groomsmen across from them on the left. The boys make their way down the middle and Steve shows them where they should stand at the end of the line, one next to him and one next to Jess. There’s a small squabble about who gets to stand on the side with the men and who with the women, but eventually Ryan stands next to his Uncle Steve while Luke stands next to your best friend.

“And now…” Jake plays audio of a drum roll. “Please welcome, for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Munson!”

The grin on your face could not possibly be bigger as you walk out into your wedding reception on Eddie’s arm. The guests cheer as you walk down the aisle of your wedding party. You make sure to take in every moment of this, not wanting to forget a single detail once this day is over.

Once you and Eddie are in the middle of the floor, you take the time to admire the gorgeous space you find yourself in. A number of round tables with white satin tablecloths surround the area that is considered the dance floor, and there is a long head table straight ahead, where the entire wedding party will sit. The large crystal chandelier illuminates the open space in gentle but sufficient light. Beautiful bouquets of white, pink, and purple flowers linger by the walls, enhancing the already romantic setting. The cherry on top is the crowd full of elegantly dressed loved ones, all gathered to celebrate your and Eddie’s love.

“If we could please have the beautiful couple on the dance floor for their first dance,” Jake says.

The wedding party all step to the edges of the roomy area, surrendering the spotlight to solely you and your new husband.

Eddie’s right hand takes your left and brings it to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. You almost melt in front of everyone, a breath away from becoming a puddle of white chiffon and lace. Eddie keeps your hand securely in his and rests his other hand on the small of your back. Your free hand rests on Eddie’s shoulder as he delicately uses his hand on your back to bring your body closer to his. There’s hardly enough room for a piece of paper between the two of you when he stops—not that you’re complaining one bit.

The gentle strum of an acoustic guitar floods from the speakers, a few notes playing before the slowed down lyrics begin.

Uptown girl

She’s been living in her uptown world

I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy

I bet her momma never told her way

There was never a doubt that this song would be what your first dance is to. This acoustic cover brought you to tears the first time you discovered it, immediately telling Eddie that this is the one. There are also tears in your eyes now as you and Eddie slowly sway from side to side.

“I love you,” Eddie whispers.

“I love you more,” you say before sniffling in an attempt to keep the tears from falling.

“Oh, you want to start this now, huh?” Eddie teases, grinning at you as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours.

“I’m your wife now,” you remind him. “You have to let me win.”

His laugh makes you feel light-headed, the immense joy that surrounds the two of you intoxicating.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the winner,” he replies. “You know, because you’re my wife now.”

“Your wife,” you repeat.

“My wife.”

Eddie steps back, removing his hand from your back so he can spin you around. He watches you twirl, admiring every little detail of you. Not just the dress and jewelry that you have on for the wedding, but the natural details of you that he adores every single day. The sight of your smaller, delicate hand in his. How the light makes your hair shine brighter than any star in the night sky. The way your smile makes him desperate to keep you happy for the rest of your life.

When he takes you back into his arms, he leans in towards your left hand and presses his lips gently against your wedding band. You tilt your head as you gaze at his handsome face. It feels like he becomes more beautiful every single day.

“Will the wedding party please join?” the DJ asks.

You don’t even notice at first, everyone dancing around you. Your everything is consumed by the man in front of you and the thought that you are legally and officially joined for eternity. A cooing “aww” from some guests is what gets your attention and you look at the couples dancing around you.

Max and Lucas are the closest couple to you, but when you look just beyond them you see what everyone finds so adorable.

Ryan has his hands on Natalie Harrington’s waist, his face beet red. Natalie’s hands are on Ryan’s shoulders as they sway from side to side. Right next to them Luke dances with Mia Harrington. Well, you’re not sure if it can really be considered dancing. The five-year-old girl has her arms wrapped tightly against Luke’s middle and her head rests against his chest. Her eyes are closed there’s a beaming smile on her face. Luke looks slightly less enthused, but more uncomfortable with the dancing portion than Mia. The nine-year-old arguably has the best coordination out of the Munson men but his awkward steps from side to side surely aren’t proof of that.

“They’re so cute,” you say to Eddie.

“Here I thought Ryan was over his crush on Natalie,” he responds with a chuckle.

“I think he’d be red no matter who he was dancing with,” you say. “But he might have a little bit of that crush left. But look at Mia! She’s in heaven.”

The small redhead looks as happy as if this was her wedding.

“Oh, what is it with these Munson boys and Harrington girls?” Eddie jokes.

“Steve might have a red face for a different reason,” you say with a giggle.

“All the more reason to encourage it!”

You laugh and lean up to kiss your husband.

The song fades out and the guests clap as the couples finish their dancing.

“That was beautiful,” Jake says. “And we’re going to keep that love going. We have two more special dances in store. If Ryan Munson could join his new step-mom on the dance floor?”

The wedding party, Eddie included, make their way over to the head table as Ryan walks towards where you stand on the middle of the dance floor. He has a bashful grin on his face, and you open your arms to him. The tears that had previously been kept at bay spring back to your eyes as Ryan grips you around the waist and squeezes tightly.

You’d known right off the bat that you wanted to have a poignant dance with each of the boys after you and Eddie had your first dance. Both of them happily agreed to it and you’re so proud to share these dances with them.

Ryan’s hand holds yours and he rests his other hand on your waist, while yours sits on his shoulder. He looks up at you and you give into the urge to press a kiss to his forehead as the music starts.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder

You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger

May you never take one single breath for granted

God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed

Together, you sway back and forth, simply smiling at one another.

“I’m so happy,” Ryan says.

“Me too, sweetie. I love you so much.”

Ryan glances to his left and lets out a small giggle.

“I think Daddy’s crying.”

You look over, and sure enough, Eddie’s wiping at his eyes. He’s doing his best to hide it, but you know his every little tell by now.

“So mushy,” you tease to the little boy.

He leans in and rests his head against your body which fills your heart with warmth that could rival the sun. Neither of you talks for the rest of the song but it’s perfect. Just dancing with your oldest boy now that you can officially claim him as yours. Even if you’ve been doing it long before now, something about sharing the last name makes it seem so much more real.

After the song ends, Ryan stands up on his tippy toes and you lean down enough so he can press a kiss to your cheek. You give him a big hug before he heads over to the table Eddie is at.

“That was great, guys,” Jake says. “Last but not least, can Luke Munson come to the dance floor?”

Typical for his usual energetic self, Luke skips onto the dance floor and over to you. He puts one hand on his stomach and bows at the waist. You curtsy in return, enjoying the royal feel he’s adding.

“May I have this dance?” Luke asks, holding out his hand.

“Of course you may.”

You place your hand in his smaller one and he gives yours a squeeze. He steps in closer to you, back straight, and wraps his other arm around you as much as his short child limbs will let him. The music begins and instead of swaying from side to side like his brother did, Luke takes actual steps from right to left. You’re not sure if it’s supposed to be an approximation of the steps in a waltz, but it’s adorable regardless.

If you're lost you can look and you will find me

Time after time

If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting

Time after time

If you're lost, you can look and you will find me

Time after time

If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting

Time after time

Luke starts to hum along and his curls bob along in time with his steps.

“You look so handsome.”

He smiles so wide you can see the missing molar that fell out a few weeks ago.

“Not so much as you are pretty!”

The sentence might make his English teacher cringe, but the compliment warms your face.

“Do you know how much I love you?” you ask.

“Mhmm,” he hums in response. “Yes. Because you never forget to tell me. And that’s one of my favorite things about you. You wanna make sure I never forget it.”

Luke is the one to finally make a rogue tear fall down your cheek while you dance.

“You’re right. I need you to know it.”

“I love how much you love us. Me and Ryan and Daddy.”

“And I love how much you all love me.”

The song ends and Luke bows to you again, which you answer with another curtsy.

Now that your solo dances are finished you assume you’ll get the chance to get off the dance floor. No one warned you beforehand though that almost everyone will want to dance with the bride. Eddie is also brought back onto the floor, your sister the first one who insists on dancing with him.

Flashes go off as the photographer snaps shot after shot of everyone enjoying themselves. You’re so glad you’ll get to relive this day over and over again with the photos and video.

Wayne catches you for a dance and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the older man so emotional. For another song, you dance with Steve while Eddie dances with Nancy. The thought that the three of them have a decades old friendship and now you’re included in that inner circle? It adds another layer of emotion to the heart of everything on this day.

More upbeat songs play one after the other and you watch on in amusement as the kids gather together to make their own form of a mosh pit. Eddie comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you.

“Think they’ll do this if I put Master of Puppets on?”

You chuckle and lean back against his sturdy frame.

Finally, it’s time for dinner to be served. The kids are having so much fun on the floor that it takes some convincing to get them all to sit for the meal. Unsurprisingly, most of them inhale their food—especially Luke.

As the waiter takes away your plate and you wipe your mouth off with a napkin, a knife tings against a glass from the other side of your husband. Steve sets his champagne down and clears his throat.

“I’m so excited to hear his toast,” you lean over to whisper to Eddie.

“I’m not sure if I should be scared or not,” he whispers back.

“Probably,” you reply with a shrug.

“Uh, good evening, everyone,” Steve begins. “My name is Steve and I’m the best man. I know a lot of times in these types of speeches there are mentions of cute or sweet things that the couple have done together that show that they’re made for one another. I started to think about some of those stories but then I realized there are just way too many instances of these two being all cute together. I mean, I thought I was a hopeless romantic deep down, but I think I was put to shame by Eddie here. I went to high school with Eddie, so we’ve known each other about twenty years now. And other than the four years my wife and I moved to Boston for her undergrad, we’ve lived within five miles of one another. Eddie and I have seen each other in our best moments and our worst moments. But throughout all of that, all of those years, I never saw the look in Eddie’s eye that he has when it comes to his beautiful new bride. It’s such a uniquely expressive look that I struggled to put a word to it. So, I started to think about words that can describe Eddie in general. Now, as he can tell you, I do often come up with some choice words to call him, but I was looking to be nice this time. I thought back to high school, and I was brought back to the days when he was in Hellfire club, which all the other groomsmen here were in as well. I could never understand the fascination of these fantasy creatures and the battles that are won with dice. There were many a conversation when things were dumbed down for me to grasp what these so called ‘campaigns’ were about. Eventually, I understood how much magic played a part of it. And then that word hit me. Magic. Enchanting. Bewitching. That’s the look in Eddie’s eye whenever it comes to his girl. It doesn’t matter if he’s talking about her, talking to her, or even just thinking about her. There’s this unmistakable glint of magic that lights up his whole face. All you have to do is look at him when she’s around. There is no story I could tell you that would convince you these two are meant to be more than the look in Eddie’s eyes will. It’s plain as day right there. And when she looks back at him? Well, if you didn’t believe in soulmates before, it’s enough to make a believer out of you.” Steve lifts his glass of champagne and turns towards you and Eddie. “I am so happy that you two found each other in this upside-down world. But there’s not a doubt in my mind that it was supposed to be this way. We were always meant to be here in this moment, at your beautiful wedding. I love you both. I look forward to seeing what the future has in store. Because with you guys? I know it��s going to be magical. Cheers.”

The guests clink their champagne flutes against one another’s, the twinkling sound echoing around the open space. As soon as you take a sip and set down your own glass, you push your seat back and stand up. You maneuver around Eddie's chair as he goes to stand as well and pull Steve into a hug.

“That was lovely, Steve,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“And every word was true,” he tells you.

You gently cup his face in your hands, much like you sometimes do to the boys, and give him one last grateful smile before stepping out of the way.

“That was a great speech, man.” Eddie pulls his best man in for a hug. “Thank you. I know you’ll be back to calling me those choice words tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I took the day off,” Steve says, waving a dismissive hand as if it’s nothing. “I figured I could give you one day. Since it’s your wedding and all.”

“How generous.” Eddie rolls his eyes and retakes his seat. You take yours as well and Jess takes a deep breath from the other side of you.

“Guess I’m up then,” she says softly.

With a smile, you grab her hand that’s closest to you and give it a small squeeze.

“You’ve got this.”

The smile she gives you in return isn’t as confident as you would’ve liked it to be, but you’ll take what you can get right now. She inhales one large breath through her mouth and slowly releases it through her nose. Her tight brown curls bobble as she nods to herself. She rises to her feet and grabs her champagne flute. Using the side of her fork, she gently taps the glass, just as Steve did to get everyone’s attention.

Once everyone is looking in her direction, she sets the items down and anxiously rubs her hands down the side of her purple gown. Her gaze is on the table in front of her but you hear her take one more deep breath, then she looks up and smiles back at the crowd.

“Um, hi. I’m Jess and I have the privilege of being this lovely bride’s maid of honor. I have also had the privilege of having a first row seat to see this love story play out. It’s been quite an amazing saga in many ways, but by far the best, is that not only did this lucky young lady find the man of her dreams, but she also found the family that was, let’s face it, tailor made for her. I heard story after story about the Munsons in the beginning and I always thought…she had to be exaggerating. I have a gaggle of nieces and nephews and there was no way I could reconcile that there were two little boys who were as well-behaved and as fun as they were made out to be. Oh, was I proven wrong when I met them! Not only are Ryan and Luke as well-mannered and amusing as I was told, but they are also so intelligent, so kind and caring, and love with their entire hearts. And it’s easy to understand why once you get to know Eddie. He carries all the same qualities that he’s imparted in his sons, and he treats my best friend like the queen that she is.” Jess pauses and lets out a small chuckle. “I actually remember the first time I met Eddie. It didn’t start off under the best of circumstances, but it only took me a matter of minutes to see what was so obvious between these two. In fact, after Eddie left, I said, ‘I don’t normally tell you what to do, but if you don’t marry this man, I will.’” Jess turns and gives you a wink. “You made the right choice, my friend. I hope that the future holds only the best for you two. Well, you four, actually. May your lives be filled with the happiness and joy that you so willingly give to others. Have fun today and don’t forget to stop and breathe. This is such a beautiful wedding, and I am so honored to be a part of it. I love you guys. To the Munsons.”

Jess raises her glass and the rest of the guests echo, “To the Munsons!”

Before you even swallow your sip of champagne, you stand up and pull your best friend into a crushing hug.

“I love you too,” you tell her. “Thank you. That was so sweet.”

“Anything for you,” Jess says as she hugs you back.

Eddie is next to pull her into a hug.

“Did you really say that the day we met?” he asks her, looking between the two of you.

“She did,” you tell him with a laugh.

“Well, then thank you,” Eddie says to her.

“You’re very welcome.”

Now that both the best man and the maid of honor have given their toasts, you expect that the speeches are done for the evening. But Jake, the DJ, grabs the microphone and makes an announcement that surprises you.

“Both great speeches, weren’t they?” he says. “We’ve got one more. Well…two? No, one speech, two speakers. Ryan? Luke? You guys wants a microphone?”

Your eyes widen as you whip your head around to look at the boys at the end of the table. Ryan nods in response to Jake’s question and walks over to the DJ booth to collect a mic. When you turn to look at Eddie, he looks just as shocked as you are.

“Did you know?” you ask him anyway.

“No idea.” He shakes his head, a grin blooming on his face.

Instead of coming back over to the table with the microphone, Ryan stands in front of the large sound system and nods for Luke to come over and join him. Your youngest runs over and skids to a halt at his brother’s side.

“Uh, hi,” Ryan starts. His cheeks are already cherry red, and he’s only said two words. He doesn’t even need to express any sweet sentiments—the fact that he’s willing to talk in front of people says it all already. “I’m Ryan.”

“And I’m Luke!” Luke leans over and speaks into the mic. Even the kid who is the life of the party looks nervous. You can hardly blame them; they know a lot of people who are here, but not all of them. This is scary territory for such young boys.

“We wanted to say something for our Daddy and new stepmom,” Ryan says.

Luke gently tugs Ryan’s hands so the microphone is closer to his mouth. “She only got the last name Munson today, but she has loved us like we’re hers since, like…ever.” The crowd lets out a small chuckle as Ryan moves the mic again.

“We weren’t really sure what people say at weddings cause the only ones we’ve been too we were too little to pay attention,” Ryan explains. “But our grandpa said that sometimes people tell stories and Luke and I thought of a story we could tell.” This time, he properly hands the microphone to his little brother.

“So, um,” Luke begins, “a long time ago, me and Ryan came up with an idea to try and make them fall in love. Them.” Luke points to the two of you sitting at the center of the head table. You already have tears leaking from your eyes and Eddie isn’t far behind. “They took us to Chuck E. Cheese, which is the best! It’s got games and prizes.”

Ryan takes the mic back, sensing his brother is about to go off topic.

“And so, we thought of a way to get them to hold hands. Luke is littler so he still had to hold hands in the parking lot then. Maybe I did too, I don’t remember. But we said Luke was gonna do this plan. He asked–”

“I asked both of them to hold my hands!” Luke says, hijacking the story. “And we got closer to the doors and Ryan went to open them. When he did that, I tugged on both their hands and put hers in his. Then I ran ahead so they were behind me holding hands!”

“They walked in that way while I held the door open for everyone,” Ryan says, taking back to mic. Luke leans in to speak again.

“I don’t know if that’s when they fell in love, but I do know they love each other now! Because of me and Ryan? Maybe!”

“So, yeah, that’s the story,” Ryan says, taking a deep breath. “And we’re so happy to have a stepmom. ‘Specially one that loves us so much and is so good at helping me with my homework.” “She’s so smart!” Luke adds, making you laugh through your tears.

“And our daddy is so happy with her. We never seen him this happy before. It makes us even happier.”

That’s when Eddie’s tears officially start. He sniffles and quickly wipes them away before wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“So, yeah,” Ryan says, clearly not knowing how to end this. Luke takes the microphone from him, having one more thing to add.

“Yeah! We love you two so much. And we’re really happy you got married today.”

Luke holds the mic down by his side and nods his head once, signaling he’s done. The guests and everyone at the head table start to cheer. You even see some of the banquet hall staff applauding their speech. Luke bends down in a bow and tugs Ryan down with him to do the same. You carefully wipe your face, being cautious not to smear any makeup, while Luke hands the microphone back to Jake.

“Thank you, Ryan and Luke!” Jake says.

Eddie takes your hand in his and rises from his seat and you follow his lead. You both walk around the table and open your arms as the boys come bounding back in your direction. Luke runs into Eddie’s arms and Ryan runs into yours.

“That was perfect, guys,” Eddie says as he squeezes Luke.

“Thank you so much. We love you so, so, so much.” You kiss Ryan’s head before you and Eddie swap boys to embrace.

“Can we dance again?” Luke asks.

“Sure,” Eddie tells him with a chuckle.

There’s a tap on Luke’s shoulder and he spins around to see Nancy smiling down at him.

“May I have this dance?” she asks, extending her hand.

“Yes!” Luke slaps his hand into hers and tugs her onto the dance floor.

Jake starts up with the music again and it brings a rush of kids back to the dance floor. In your peripheral vision you see Steve approaching Max and you turn to watch the interaction. He offers her his hand, and though she rolls her eyes and pretends to be annoyed, there’s a smile on her face as she puts her hand in his and they head to the floor.

“Oh my God, Max is dancing with Steve,” Eddie says, having seen it as well. “I gotta get her to dance with me now.”

“Will you two ever not be competing with one another?” you ask.

“Nope.” Eddie grins and presses a kiss to your cheek. “You married into this competition, babe.”

“Well, I see another redhead who doesn’t have a dance partner,” you say, gesturing to Mia in the middle of the dance floor, more spinning in a circle rather than dancing.

“Oh, no,” Eddie playfully gasps. “I can’t have my favorite five-year-old dancing by herself!”

Your husband quickly walks onto the floor and scoops Mia up from behind. She squeals in surprise and Eddie laughs as he spins her around in his arms. Once she realizes who has her, Mia’s face splits into a grin and she squeezes Eddie around the neck. You chuckle as you watch the two of them, your hands gently going to rest on your stomach as you tilt your head. Everyone on the dance floor is full of smiles and laughter and it warms your heart.

“M’lady,” you hear from behind you. You turn and see Dustin with one arm tucked behind his back and the other reaching towards you. “May I have the honor of dancing with you.”

“Absolutely, Lord Henderson,” you reply. The nickname makes him smile as the two of you join everyone else on the dance floor.

After Dustin, Lucas pulls you in for a dance, and then you’re hounded by the Corroded Coffin guys until Eddie shoos them away and tells them to kick rocks. You laugh as your husband pulls you into his arms. The song ends and out of the corner of your eye you see Max sitting down.

“Looks like someone is free,” you tell Eddie, nodding in her direction.

Eddie cradles your face in his hands and presses a slow, steamy kiss to your lips.

“You really are the best wife ever.”

The combination of the kiss and his words warms your cheeks.

“For setting you up to dance with someone else?” you joke, trying to dispel the heat from your face. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I would never,” he vows, putting a hand over his heart. He gives you a wink before darting off to even the score with his best friend.

After Eddie finishes his dance with Max, Dustin grabs her for one as well. You’ve never seen Max look so exasperated and content at the same time. But you decide enough is enough once the current song ends. You walk up to Max and slip your hand in hers.

“I’m tired of these men hogging you,” you tell her. “Dance with me?”

“Finally,” Max says, her free hand thrown out to the side with exaggeration. “A desirable dance partner!”

Jess, Nancy, El, and Robin join you and Max for the next song and it’s a thrill to be surrounded by girlfriends and get to act as wild and free as the children are.

After a few more songs, the music fades out and Jake’s voice reverberates out of the speakers.

“Alright! Looks like everyone is having a great time out there. How about we play a little game? How does that sound?”

There are cheers as you watch two of the staff members each grab a chair and situate them in the middle of the dance floor. They’re set back-to-back and you meet Eddie’s eye a few feet away as you realize what time it is.

“We’re going to play The Shoe Game!” Jake announces. “For those of you who don’t know, The Shoe Game is where the bride and groom sit back-to-back, having one of their own shoes in one hand, and their partner’s shoe in the other. Then I’ll ask a series of questions like, ‘who is more dramatic when they’re sick?’ and they’ll each raise the shoe of whoever it is. And since they’re back-to-back, they aren’t able to see one another’s answers. Although, it’s usually pretty easy to tell by how the crowd responds. Are we ready?”

Eddie comes to take your hand and lead you over to the chairs in the middle. He kneels down in front of you and unbuckles your white strappy heels. You breathe a sigh of relief as he pulls each piece of confining footwear off. He hands one of your shoes to you and keeps one in his own hand before he stands up and kicks his own black dress shoes off. He then hands you one of those while keeping the other for himself.

“Daddy is the more dramatic one when he’s sick,” you hear Luke say to Wayne as Eddie takes the seat at your back.

“I heard that,” Eddie quips.

“He’s right,” you say with a giggle. Eddie reaches back and playfully swats at you.

“Okay, let’s get started,” Jake says. “First one: who is the better cook?”

Instantly, both you and Eddie raise up the white strappy shoes.

“Oh, that’s so easy!” you hear Ryan say.

“Ah, seemed to be no hesitation there,” Jake says. “Next, who is more likely to grow old and continue playing pranks?”

Almost as quickly as you’d both lifted your shoe last time, you both lift Eddie’s. The guests chuckle as well as Jake.

“Yeah, kind of saw that one coming,” the DJ says.

“He’s already old!” Luke says from Wayne’s lap. You burst into laughter, bending in half in your seat. Wayne claps his hand over Luke’s mouth, but there’s no use now. The rest of the guests laugh as well, but Eddie just shakes his head while looking at his youngest son.

“Hush up,” he calls out. “No one asked you.”

Luke’s boisterous laugh echoes out as he pulls his grandfather’s hand off his face.

“Oh, okay, this one might be a little more controversial,” Jake says. “Who has the better taste in music?”

It’s the third time that neither you nor Eddie have any hesitation, except this time you both proudly raise your own shoes in the air.

“Put your shoe down,” Eddie says without looking behind him.

“No way,” you counter.

“Interesting!” Jake calls. “Huh, alright. Maybe we should get the boys to be the tie breakers here. Who might the bride and groom’s favorite artists be?”

“Metallica for me,” Eddie says. He wrinkles up his nose as he speaks your preference. “Billy Joel for her.”

“Okay, boys,” Jake says, looking over towards your sons. “Metallica or Billy Joel?”

“Metallica!” Luke shouts the same time that Ryan yells, “Billy Joel!”

“Ah,” Jake hums. “I guess we’re just going to have to call this one a tie. Moving on. Who is the most stubborn when arguing?”

Again, you and Eddie lift each other’s shoes in the air.

The crowd laughs and Jake shakes his head.

“You know,” he says, “I’m not even going to try to settle this one. The speed with which they put their hands up says it all. Alright, next one. Who said, ‘I love you’ first?”

Both of you raise Eddie’s shoe, matching dopey grins on your faces.

“Who made the first move?”

You lift each other’s shoes in the air, but Eddie looks behind him and scoffs.

“It was you!” he says.

“It was not,” you argue.

Eddie clears his throat and tilts his head to the side in impatience.

“Babe. You climbed into my lap.”

“Oh,” you say, remembering that moment with crystal clarity. “I did.” You shrug and switch from Eddie’s shoe to your own.

“Thank you.”

“Who is most likely to stay up too late either playing guitar or reading a book?”

Two of your shoes go up.

“Who is more likely to randomly start a deep conversation at midnight?”

Two of Eddie’s shoes go up.

“Who is most likely to cave when the kids ask for a pet?”

Eddie holds your shoe up straight away while you shyly lift yours into the air.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows at the boys.

“Okay, final question,” Jake says and clears his throat. “Who is more excited about having more kids?”

You both lift black dress shoes high into the air. That’s absolutely no secret between the two of you with Mr. Breeding Kink sitting behind you.

The guests clap, talking amongst themselves as the game ends. Eddie helps put your shoes back on and pulls you to your feet. Somewhere a glass clinks at a table and Eddie takes the cue, tugging your body against his and lowering his mouth to yours.

You’re unsure how long you’re lost in Eddie’s lips before you hear someone mention cake. Next thing you know, you and Eddie are standing in front of your three-tiered wedding cake, and he picks up the large knife. He settles the blade over the bottom level of dessert and waits for you to put your hand on top of his. Together, you slice the first piece of cake and serve it onto a plate.

“Smoosh it in his face!” Luke yells.

Eddie narrows his eyes at you, but you subtly shake your head to tell him that you’re not going to. Your husband goes first, pinching a piece of cake between his thumb and forefinger and feeds it to you. The decision to let your tongue flick against the tip of his fingers proves successful as a low groan rumbles out of him.

“Evil,” Eddie whispers as you pick up a small chunk of cake.

You shrug innocently before holding your fingers up to his lips. He opens them and you feed him the piece. Luke huffs somewhere behind you, disappointed this all went so calmly.

Cake is cut for the rest of the guests and Luke tries to pull his own face smooshing prank. He grabs a small bit of his cake in his hands and tip toes (what he thinks is) quietly up behind his dad. Your husband looks over at you and you share an amused glance before Eddie strikes, snatching Luke up by his waist and wrangling the cake out of his messy hands. Luke laughs as he lays like a ragdoll over Eddie’s lap and the older man happily pops the piece of Luke’s cake into his mouth.

“Darn it!” Luke says through his laughter.

“Better luck next time, sticky fingers,” Eddie says, shoving his son back up to his feet.

After the cake is thoroughly enjoyed, it’s time for you to throw the bouquet. You approach the middle of the dance floor, eyes scanning the single women who are coming to try and catch it. There’s a handful of them but Jess looks especially motivated. You turn your back to them and listen to Jake count backwards from three. Shouting erupts behind you as soon as the flowers soar above your head. There’s cheering as you turn around to see who caught it. Holly Wheeler stands in the middle of the group of ladies, a bright smile on her face as she lifts the white and red arrangement in the air. You catch the smile on Jess’s face and get the sneaking suspicion that your best friend let the pretty blonde win on purpose.

The only thing left for the rest of the time is more dancing. Even without a clock visible, it’s obvious that the night is coming to a close as the kids get more tired, and you even see Steve sitting at a table with a sleeping Mia’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Always the babysitter,” you hear him say.

“Excuse me?” You arch an eyebrow at him.

Steve laughs and shrugs his free shoulder. “Fair.”

As the reception comes to an end, you say goodbye to all your guests who have stayed this late into the evening. Finally, Wayne approaches the two of you with exhausted little Munsons in front of him. Their grandfather is taking them back to the house and staying with them tonight while you and Eddie have a nice bridal suite awaiting you at a local hotel. You’ll meet up with the three guys tomorrow for breakfast before you and Eddie catch your plane to begin your honeymoon.

“Alright,” Eddie says, pulling Ryan in for a hug. “Be good for Grandpa, okay?”

“Always am,” Ryan answers through a yawn.

“Maybe I should be telling you that, then.” Eddie hugs Luke next and the little boy doesn’t even have the energy to argue. He just grunts as he hugs his dad and then you. You press kisses to both of their heads before giving Wayne a hug.

“It was beautiful, guys,” he says. “I’m so happy for y’all.”

“Thank you.” You kiss his cheek. “We love you.”

“Love you, too. See ya in the morning.”

Now all that’s left to do is join your husband for a quick limo ride to your hotel where you’ll both summon a whole new surge of energy. Eddie loops your arm through his as the two of you walk out of the banquet hall. You’re contently quiet, taking in the cold night air before slipping inside the warm vehicle. As soon as the door is closed behind you, Eddie pulls you into his lap and cups your cheeks in his large hands. He presses kiss after kiss to your lips.

“Did you have fun, wife?” he asks once he’s satisfied.

“I had an amazing time, husband,” you reply.

He gazes adoringly at you and gently runs his thumb along your cheekbone. The limo starts to pull away from the renovated barn, two words painted onto the back window of the limo for anyone behind you to see.

Just Married.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #older!eddie #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #Eddie Munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #Eddie Munson fan fic #dad!eddie #AYW #AYWS #request

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the-winter-spider · 6 months ago

Text

Invisible | Part one

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: n/a, angst???

A/N: Been sitting in my docs for awhile! Based off Invisible by Taylor Swift - I have a couple parts ready to go not sure where i wanna take this but we'll see!

Part Two

-----

The city’s rhythm feels like a heartbeat, pulsing with the lives and stories of the people who live here. And for you, it’s not the towering buildings or bustling streets that make New York feel like home. It’s the people you share it with, the friends who’ve become your family, each with their own history and quirks, all somehow meshing together into this messy, beautiful dynamic you’d never trade for anything.

It started with Bucky. You met him on the playground when you were kids, both too stubborn to share the swing set. That was years ago, but you’ve been inseparable ever since. He’s been your constant, the friend who showed up at your house with snacks when you had a bad day, and the one who stayed up with you during endless nights of stargazing and silly conversations about what the future would hold.

When junior high rolled around, Steve joined your little duo. Steve, with his easy smile and that unwavering loyalty that made it impossible not to trust him. He fit right in, like he’d been meant to be part of your lives all along. Steve became the one to balance you and Bucky out — he was the one who kept the peace during your bickering, who had a shoulder to offer when one of you needed it. Steve quickly turned the two of you into an unbreakable trio.

Then came high school, and with it, Natasha. She was a transfer student, quiet and intimidating at first, with a sharp wit that kept everyone at arm’s length. But somehow, the three of you managed to break through that exterior. By senior year, she was as much a part of the group as you, Bucky, and Steve. Natasha’s the friend who knows everyone’s secrets, who has a knack for noticing things no one else does. She’s tough and unyielding, yet she’s also the one who brings you soup when you’re sick, who stays up late to talk through your problems — even when you don’t want to admit you have them.

College came, and your little circle expanded further. That’s when you met Sam. Sam was the life of the party, someone who could make anyone laugh and always knew the right thing to say. He was the friend you went to when you needed cheering up or a reality check, someone who wasn’t afraid to call you out when you needed it. With Sam came Wanda Maximoff, quiet but kind, with a gentle presence that somehow grounded everyone. She slipped into the group as if she’d always belonged there, the one who remembers little details and checks in on everyone. Wanda’s the friend who sits with you in silence when you’re upset, offering comfort without needing words.

You love them all — each one has carved out their own space in your life and heart. But then there’s Bucky.

Bucky is different. He’s been there the longest, woven into your memories and heart in a way that’s impossible to untangle. Somewhere along the line, he went from your best friend to something more, though he never seemed to notice. Bucky is everything you love and everything that frustrates you; he’s the guy who makes everyone around him feel like they’re the only person in the room, but he’s also the one who never stays attached to anyone for long.

He’s the smooth-talking charmer who flirts with every girl in sight, the perpetual bachelor who’s never been one for serious relationships. And while that should make it easier for you to keep your feelings hidden, it doesn’t. Because every time you see him with someone else, there’s a part of you that aches, wondering if he’ll ever look at you that way.

And yet, despite all the years and all the chances you’ve had to move on, you stay. Because Bucky is more than just a friend; he’s your home. You’re his confidant, the one who knows his secrets and his struggles, the one who’s always been there. It’s a role you wouldn’t give up for anything, even if it means watching him fall for everyone but you.

So, you keep your secret, tucked away behind the laughter and the years of memories. Because as much as it hurts sometimes, you’d rather have Bucky as your friend than risk losing him altogether.

The smell of pizza fills your tiny New York apartment as Steve brings in the last box from the kitchen, setting it down on the coffee table with a grin. “Alright, who’s ready to lose at Mario Kart?”

“You mean, who’s ready to lose to me,” Natasha chimes, grabbing a slice and settling on the couch, challenging smirk in place. “You all know I’m the reigning champion.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Sam teases, snatching the controller out of her hands with a wink. “I’m about to wipe the floor with all of you.”

You laugh, wedged into the corner of the couch beside Bucky, who’s flipping through channels like he’s in his own world. “You’ll be singing a different tune once I lap you three times,” he says, voice casual, eyes on the screen.

“Talk all you want, Barnes,” you reply, nudging his shoulder, “but you’re not gonna win tonight.”

His eyes meet yours, that lazy, amused smile you know so well. “Bring it on, doll.”

Natasha elbows you, muttering, “You two better save the banter for the race, or I’m taking both of you out first round.”

Your friends’ laughter fills the room, echoing off the narrow walls that have seen a hundred nights like this, crowded with the people you’ve come to think of as family. Wanda arrives a few minutes later, holding a tray of cupcakes she’s decorated herself. “Special edition, fall flavors,” she announces proudly, setting them down in the kitchen. “Pumpkin spice, because I know how basic you all are.”

Steve scoffs but grabs one immediately. “Did you just call me basic?”

“Take it as a compliment,” she teases, leaning into Sam, who gives her a quick side-hug. “Means you have taste.”

In the middle of this, Bucky slings his arm across the back of the couch, close enough that his hand almost brushes your shoulder. You can feel the warmth radiating off him, feel the way your pulse picks up—things he’d never notice.

“Why don’t we just skip the race and go straight to the part where we talk about how I’m a hero and you’re all my loyal sidekicks?” Bucky quips, popping open a beer and flashing a grin that could melt steel.

“Oh, please,” you scoff, trying to ignore the way your heart flutters. “In what world do you get to be the hero?”

“In my world,” he replies with a wink, leaning in closer. You catch Natasha’s look over the rim of her drink, one eyebrow raised as if to say, See what I mean?

The hours pass like they always do, a blur of laughter, arguments over who cheated and who didn’t, Wanda’s cupcakes disappearing one by one, and Steve trying to prove he can actually beat Nat, despite his track record saying otherwise. It’s only when the clock hits midnight that everyone starts to wind down.

As they get ready to leave, Natasha gives you a long look. “See you tomorrow?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes full of something else.

You nod, managing a smile as she heads out with the others, leaving just you and Bucky to pick up the empty cans and plates. He nudges you as he gathers them up. “Another night, another victory,” he says.

“You were lucky, Barnes,” you say, rolling your eyes.

And maybe he’ll notice one day—how much it means to you that he’s here, that you’re the one left cleaning up with him every time the night winds down. But for now, he just laughs, flashing that grin of his that you can never get out of your head.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous of my skills.”

“Skills?” you snort, tossing a pillow his way. “All I saw tonight was a lot of luck.”

He catches the pillow mid-air, grinning. “Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

There’s a lull as you both continue gathering up cups and plates, the quiet feeling comfortable, familiar. Every late night ends like this: just the two of you, unwinding after hours of laughter and chaos. You’re stacking plates by the sink when he leans back against the counter, crossing his arms with that easy, relaxed posture he gets when it’s just the two of you.

“So, what do you think of Kate?” he asks, out of nowhere.

You freeze, not quite sure how to answer. She’s… fine. In fact, she’s more than fine. She’s exactly the kind of person who should be with Bucky—smart, confident, and with a wit sharp enough to keep up with him.

“She seemed nice,” you manage, “I only met her the one time near the end of summer break” avoiding his gaze. “Why?”

He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I dunno. We’ve been talking a bit, and she’s… I don’t know, different.”

Different. The word sits heavy in your stomach, weighted with the implication. You force a smile, willing yourself not to overthink it. “Different’s good, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” He nods, looking thoughtful in a way that makes your heart sink, because this—this is new. You’ve watched him brush off a hundred girls, seen him roll his eyes at the idea of commitment more times than you can count. But he’s not brushing Kate off, and that terrifies you.

“Well,” you say, keeping your tone light, “if you’re planning to bring her around, at least let me so I can order extra pizza because 3 large pizza’s arent enought with Steve around”

Bucky chuckles, ruffling your hair in that infuriatingly casual way he’s always done. “You’re the best doll, you know that?”

The words are simple, playful, but they pierce all the same, a reminder of just how invisible you are to him in that way. “Yeah,” you say, a little quieter, “I know.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky banres #bucky fanfic #Spotify

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eddiesxangel · 11 months ago

Note

(legal age btw m not weird 😞)

dilf!eddie knowing he shouldnt be messing with a younger girl (18+ ofc) but he js needs relief after his wife left him

also may i please be 🎈 anon if not taken? ty <3

HIIIIII 🎈this got away from me

Omg ok he’s like late 40’s maybe 50. He’d be in the bar with Steve, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, you know the guys, having a celebritory/depressed drink bc the divorce had been finalized that day. Maybe you’re there for your friends 25th birthday and somehow you start flirting with Eddie and he would 100% think you’re pulling his leg bc that’s what he’s use to.

His ex was really the first relationship he had been in, they got married younger bc they were head over heels but then real life gotten in the way and they grew up and apart.

He cannot believe this hot younger girl is talking to him, he’s so out of his wheelhouse, but Steve is there to talk him up.

You “awe” when they tell you he’s newly single but that only makes you want him more. So when you suggest you take the party back to his place he’s fumbling for his keys at the opportunity. He hasn’t had sex in over two years, bc his ex wouldn’t let him touch her.

You rest your hand on his upper thigh on the short car ride back to his new home. He has a small bungalow, seriously a bachelor pad. He was not expecting company so the place is disorganized but you don’t care because your lips are attached to his neck the second he closed the door.

“Holy shit” he lets slip because is this really happening? Yes it is, he feels your hands slip up his thighs to where his hard on is starting to take form.

You run your hands all over his body, his thick arms, his small beer belly, his tense shoulders.

“You should relax, let me help you” you lead him to the couch after he takes off his leather jacket for the first time of the night and you can see more of his tattoos. You bite back a moan when he takes a seat, man spreading just inviting you to take a seat in his lap.

Your lips find his neck, you try to leave a mark but there are so many tattoos you can’t see the bruising.

Eddie still can’t believe he is with you in his house but he’s going to take advantage of every second of it. So unexpectedly he picks you up and walks you over to his bed.

With more confidence in himself he tosses you on the bed and you land with a giggle. He has you naked and on your need for him within minutes of entering the bedroom.

After he thinks you’re about to suck the soul out of his body he pushes you off and spreads you open needing to taste you. Your young tight wet pussy is like a drug. You feel his large lips sucking your clit into his mouth. He loves the feeling of your long nails gripping his hair taught. He lets out a growl into your pussy and your cumming on his tongue instantly.

He fumbles for the condoms he thankfully just bought, and when he finally penetrates you your holding him so tightly to your body you e become one.

His hips are rocking into you so good, he’s pounding into you, you can’t think. You’re so fucking. Happy you chose to come home with him, never have you had sex this good. How did his wife give this up? You don’t know but you’re sure glad because you get to experience him now.

“Eddie please!” He loved hearing his name fall from your lips. He wasn’t even sure you remembered it, he’s having trouble remembering yours if he’s being honest but he didn’t care. Your pussy was magic.

“Fuck babygirl, this pussy so tight so good” you feel his hand gently wrap around your throat, holding you in place as he watches your tits bounce with each thrust.

Your pussy is getting tighter and tighter as your orgasm creeps up on you. He needs you to cum before him, he be damned if he comes first.

The praises falling from his lips has you clenching down on his cock, and Eddie can finally let go. His cum fills the condom as he continues to fuck into you until he’s satisfied.

Once you’ve both caught your breath you get up to leave, Eddie feels sad when you start getting dressed but you insist he gives you his phone because maybe you can do it again sometime.

His stomach did a little summersault when he sees the text from the unsaved number with your name attached, and he doesn’t think he will ever forget your name again.

#Eddie Munson x you #older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #tj’s mailbox #🎈 anon

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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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Best bridesmaid ever

Summary: You always dreamed of letting your dirtiest fantasies become reality. Your bridesmaid makes it happen.

Prompt filled for: @anyfandomgoesbingo: Square 16: Bachelor (ette) party

Pairing: fem!Reader x Nick Fowler, Ari Levinson, Lloyd Hansen, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Warnings: consensual non-con/dub-con, 18+ only, fake attack, implied kidnapping, gangbang, multiple partners, taking turns, unprotected sex, smut, doggy style, pussy slapping, creampie, oral male rec, titty fuck, cum play, anal sex, voyeurism, mentions of sex tape, mentions of callboys/prostitution, masturbation, lies, dark!fic, plot twist, open ending

Words: 4,1 k

Please read the warnings before reading the story. The story contains triggering content.

The room is crowded with your best friends. Your bachelorette party is in full swing. Still, you’re not in a cheery mood. This should be one of your best days, but it isn’t.

You put on a fake smile and try to not ruin the night for your friends too.

“Naughty, naughty,” you giggle as you unpack your best friend’s gift. She gifted you a bunny vibrator. “I will marry to have a dick around, you know.”

“A boring dick fucking you all vanilla,” she winks at you. “This is for emergencies.”

You sigh, deeply. Penelope isn’t wrong. You can’t deny that you are bored most of the time you have sex with your fiancé. He doesn’t put much effort into satisfying your needs but is a nice guy.

“You need a good fuck before you marry that boring loser,” she smirks darkly, making the others chuckle. You roll your eyes at her comment. Yes, your fiancé is boring and all vanilla, but you love him.

“That is enough,” you get up and glare at Penelope. “I know you are jealous of my relationship but that’s no reason to talk like that about him. Especially not at my bachelorette party.”

“Bitch,” she gets up to push you toward the couch. “I should take my gift and leave.” You frown deeply. Pennie never talked like that to you before.

“Maybe it’s time to teach her some manners.” You gasp as five masked men storm into the living room. They get guns out and aim them at your friends. “Come over here, little bride.” One of them aims his gun at you. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

You whimper but slowly move toward the man. He smirks and grabs your arm to drag you out of the room. “Guys, we got the honey pot. Let’s start the party!”

More men stream into the room. They pounce on your friends, but four of them follow the one dragging you with him out of the room.

“Party time,” the man purrs in your ear. He tugs his gun away and rips your dress open. “Look at this, my friends.”

“Who are you?” You try to wiggle in his grip and slap against his shoulders. ”Get off me, bastard!”

You hear your friends; they scream and holler as the man guides you toward the bedroom at the house you rented for your bachelorette party.

“Oh, sunshine,” the man purrs and dips his head as you try to find a way to escape and save your friends. “We will get inside of you, all of us. You are fair game for our cocks.”

This must be a nightmare. The men slam the door shut, locking it as you tremble under their gazes.

“I want her cunt first,” the man throws your ruined dress over his shoulder. He smirks and cups his crotch when you try to cover yourself. “You can take the lingerie off on your own, or I’ll rip it down your ass.”

Your eyes round when the men unbuckle their belts in sync. You sniffle and shake your head.

“Last warning, sunshine,” the first guy taunts, and steps toward you to grasp for your bra and rip it open. “You’ll see, if you follow orders tonight, you’ll not get hurt. Now, panties off.”

You shake your head, and he sighs deeply.

“Fine, turn around then,” he grabs your neck, holding your throat in a tight grip. You slap him and try to scratch him, but you end up on the bed, face first. “Fuck me, that’s a naughty whore.”

The man grips your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a better look at your crotchless panties. “I guess she’ll get fucked with her panties on, guys.”

“Hurry the fuck up, Hansen,” one of the other guys finally speaks. “I got a raging hard-on and don’t want to go for the bridesmaids. I want to ruin the bride.”

“Please…don’t,” you choked out a whimper when Hansen moves his hands over your ass. His hand slip between your legs to part your pussy lips. He hums as your slick covers his fingers. “I’m going to marry.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Hansen slaps your pussy, once, twice, three times. “You will stay like this and wait for my cock to fill this needy hole. And after I’m done with your hole, my friends will have a go too.”

All you can do is bite the cushion and close your eyes. If this is a bad dream, you will wake soon and go back to your life.

“Shit, look at that perfect pussy,” one of the other men says. He slaps your ass, making it sting as it feels like it’s made of metal. “Thank me when I compliment you.”

“Barnes, relax,” a third guy grunts. “She will take your dick soon enough. I want to know if Hansen is all talk or if he can fuck like a stallion.”

“You hear the other three men step closer to the bed. They unzip their pants, and you sniffle again hearing the guy named Hansen unzip his pants too. His cock slaps against your pussy lips seconds later, making your body go stiff.

“Get away from me,” you scream and try to crawl away, but Hansen grabs your legs and drags you toward the edge of the bed. He grasps for your arms, holding them behind your back.

“Give me the handcuffs,” Hansen grunts. “I gotta tame that beast of a mare. She’ll feel me in her bones for days and maybe her ass too.”

He restraints your wrists behind your back, smirking as you sniffle silently.

“Relax that cunt,” he purrs and runs his erection up and down your slit. “It’s a nice little cunt, and I’d hate ruining it.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” you plea. “I’ll do anything you want to.”

He teases your entrance with the wide head, smirking as you try to wiggle away. Hansen slams home in one go, showing no mercy. You are soaked, and it helps to take his huge cock.

“Aw, there we go, sunshine. Can you feel your tight little cunt pulsing around my cock?” He grabs your restrained hands, and slowly starts rocking his hips.

The other men groan hearing tiny whimpers leave your lips. You hear one of them shuffle behind you. He steps next to Hansen to watch him ruin your cunt.

Hansen roughly fucks into you; he groans and drops his hands to slap your ass with both hands. His arms suddenly wrap around your body to bring you upright. He cups your tits, squeezing the plush flesh painfully hard.

You wiggle again and try to buck him off, but it’s no use. He ruts into you and taunts you with love confession. “I’m gonna marry this cunt, guys. It’s official, I’m in love.”

“Get off me,” you choke out a moan. He’s a bastard, but damn him, his cock hits that spot making you keen with deadly accuracy.

“No can do, sunshine,” he purrs and wraps one hand around your throat. You are helpless in his arms and can only watch one of the other men crawl onto the bed. He winks at you before kneeling on the bed to give your exposed cunt a few kitten licks.

“How does she taste, Rogers,” the man slapping your ass earlier asks. “I bet she tastes like a whore. Our whore.”

“Shut up, Barnes,” the man licking your cunt grunts. He kneels in front of you to grope your tit. “Yeah, I’m going to fuck you too, doll. Maybe missionary so you must watch me claim your body.”

“Mirror,” Hansen grunts. His thrusts become sloppy and you only hope he won’t cum inside of you. “Now!”

Two more men come into your vision. They rip the curtains hanging opposite the bed down, revealing an oversized wall mirror.

“Watch yourself get ruined, sunshine,” Hansen tightens his hold on your throat. He pushes into you, always hitting your G-spot now. You don’t recognize the woman in the mirror.

She looks like a whore getting railed by the masked man. Drool runs down your chin, and your eyes are glassy. “Fuck…no…nggh…” You try to hold the tidal wave back. The last thing you want is to gush all over the bastard’s cock.

“That’s you, sunshine,” he tilts your head to kiss you roughly. The mask scratches your face, but the worst is, that you tighten around his length, milking him dry. You sniffle, and whimper feeling his seed fill your abused cunt. “One done, Y/N. Four more to go. And after we all had our fill, we will start all over again.”

He laughs at your shocked face and pushes you off him. You land on the bed with a loud thud, fearing you won’t survive the night.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” the man named Rogers grabs you by your neck and forces you to kneel on the bed. “I want to fuck those tits first.”

“Kneel on the ground for your new husband,” Hansen grabs your arm and pushes you to the ground. You struggle to kneel with your hands still bound behind your back. “Good little cockslut.”

“Perfect,” Rogers smirks as you try to slowly move away from him. “None of this now.” He walks around you to slap his hands between your legs. He scoops a large amount of Hansen’s cum, humming as you whimper at the slightest touch.

Rogers hurriedly faces you again to smear the cum all over your tits. He hums a melody while playing with your nipples. “Rogers loves a good titty fuck,” Hansen kneels behind you to slap your ass. “Be good, and he will shoot his load before your tits are sore.”

“I—” You shake your head but have no choice but to let the man named Rogers roughly grip your chin. He smears Hansen’s cum all over your lips before greedily kissing you.

“Let me fuck those tits, doll,” he purrs and pushes his cock between your tits. He cups your plush flesh, pressing them together as he starts rocking his hips. You drop your head and watch his cock moving between your tits. Your mouth opens and you lick over his tip when he moves closer to your face. “That’s it. Be good for me.”

“Fuck those tits faster, I want her to suck me off, or her ass,” another man grabs the back of your neck. “Lick his dick, now.”

“Shit, Fowler,” the man fucking your tits grunts. “Yes, that’s so much hotter.”

“Fowler is a kinky bastard,” the last man laughs. “Wait for my cock, sweetness, Levinson will split all of your holes and ruin you forever.”

“Shut up,” Barnes grunts. He gets his dick out to run his gloved hand up and down his length.

Rogers moves his hips faster. “I want to fuck her pussy now.”

Your eyes widen at Rogers’ words. Before you can react his cock slips out from between your tits, and you get thrown onto the bed. He immediately crawls between your legs, spreading you with his hips. “Yeah, that’s how you will watch me fuck you, doll.”

Rogers impales you with one forceful thrust. He ignores that you try to wiggle your hips or that you call him a bastard. He silences your protests with his lips, almost smothering you as he starts rocking his hips. “You’re ours from now on. Not a bride but our whore.”

His lips move down to your neck, and lower to your tits. He bites your nipple, forcing a scream to tear from your throat. Rogers is a cruel lover. He bites and nips at your plush flesh, leaving marks as he fucks you deep and hard.

He speeds up with every squeak leaving your lips. Your eyes roll back as he suddenly grabs your hips to slightly lift your hips. Rogers holds you in a tight grip while violating your pulsing cunt.

“Shit, did you see that?” Barnes growls. “She gushed all over his cock like a whore.”

His load shoots into you right after you clenched around him like the whore they turned you into. “That’s it, doll. Now you know the drill.”

Rogers pulls out, leaving you tainted and panting for the next man to use you. “On your belly, ass up,” Fowler doesn’t give you the chance to take a breath. He flips you over, forces you on your hands and knees, and is on you before you can react.

Not that you’d be able to fight him.

“What do you say, Barnes?” Fowler runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs. “Ass and mouth? Let’s fill her from both ends.”

You moan but bite your tongue. Fowler slaps your ass, grunts, and calls you a slut as you dared to make a noise.

“Shut up, you don’t have a say in this,” he mocks you. “This body is ours to use. Now talking back.”

He opens the handcuffs. Fowler takes his time, gently kneading the pain out of your skin. “Barnes?”

“Mouth,” Barnes grunts. “I hope she’s good at sucking dick. I dreamed of having her lips wrapped around my dick.”

“More ass for me,” Fowler laughs as you hold your breath. “Relax, sweetness. This ass will love my cock. It’s made to take it.”

You nod and tap the bed twice. Fowler immediately grabs you by your hips to press his crotch into your ass. He grinds into you while Barnes takes off his clothes.

Barnes lies on his side, lazily stroking his cock. He watches Fowler push your face into Barnes’ crotch, smirking as you eagerly rub your face into his pubic hair. “Good little whore,” he praises. “Now open up for Bucky.”

“Barnes!” Fowler hisses. “We said no first names!”

“Fuck you! I want her to suck my dick, not for you to complain again. Get your dick inside her ass and let me and my pretty doll have some fun!” Barnes gently pats your head, encouraging you to relax and open your mouth for him.

You move a little closer to Barnes and press your knees and the palms of your hands into the mattress.

Barnes watches the man behind you open a bottle of lube. He grunts as you shyly glance at his erection. “All for you, doll.” He lazily strokes his cock, waiting for Fowler to make his move. “I bet you will look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

Heat creeps into your cheeks at his praise. You dart your tongue out to lick over the wide heat. He shudders feeling your tongue touch his sensitive tip.

“Stop playing around,” Fowler pushes against your shoulders to press your face into Barnes’ crotch. “Swallow his cock while I shove mine into your tight little arsehole.”

“Hey, she was so good to me,” Barnes complains loudly. “Right doll. You wanted to suck me good.”

“She’ll be even better with my cock up her ass.” You hear a commotion in the room. The fifth man, Levinson barks orders at Hansen and Rogers. You blend his voice out and only listen to Fowler who lubes one finger to play with your tightest hole. “Such a nice little hole for me to use.”

You whimper and bite your lower lip. It’s a new sensation feeling Fowler’s finger push into your tightest hole. He groans behind you. “Did you ever take it up your ass?” He taunts while moving his finger in and out. “I bet you didn’t.”

“Who’s toying with her now,” Barnes snaps at Fowler. “She’s a big girl and can take it. Right, doll?” He purrs the pet name. “You want him to fuck this naughty hole.”

For a moment, the room was silent. All eyes are on you, and the men watch you slowly nod.

They don’t need to know that you’re about to fulfill your darkest desires. The ones no one else could fulfill.

“I knew she was going to take all of me,” Fowler slaps your ass. You squeak and lean over Barnes’ crotch to lick over the head. He holds his cock in a tight grip, offering it to you like a present. “Now, open up for Barnes while I stretch that hole.”

Barnes cups the back of your neck and holds his cock with his free hand. He guides you down his cock, slow but his hold on your neck is tight enough to tell you he won’t accept refusal.

“Slow, doll,” Barnes moves his hand to the back of your neck. He pats you and purrs your name. “I’ll help you do it right.” He pushes your head into his crotch, forcing you to swallow him whole.

“Yeah, he’s good at guidance,” you choke around Barnes's cock. He smirks as you struggle to breathe right. “I’m better, though.”

You let Barnes guide your head up and down his length, ignoring the other men growling your name, along with profanities. You’re too far gone. Body and soul tainted by the men using you for their pleasure, you’re ruined and know it.

Fowler grips your waistline, fingertips digging into your flesh. He lubes his cock, groaning as his eyes drop to your well-fucked cunt. Rogers and Hansen’s cum runs out of your abused hole. “What a good whore you are for all of us.”

“Fuck her already, I’m still waiting for my turn,” it’s Levinson who raises his voice. “If not, I’ll take over and rip that tight little hole open.”

“Get fucked,” Fowler loses his patience. He grips your ass to spread your ass cheeks. Fowler spits onto the crack of your ass, huffing as Levinson steps toward the bed to watch you suck Barnes’ dick. You bob your head, desperate to feel his cum on your tongue.

The pressure you feel the moment Fowler pushes his cock into your tightest hole is something you’ve never felt before. He slowly moves back and forth, still, it’s a wide and uncomfortable stretch. You hear him groan and feel his hands grip your hips to push all the way in.

“Shit, she’s stuffed to the brim,” Hansen comments. He watches Barnes and Fowler use you to their liking, griping his cock to jerk off. “I could go for another round when you are done, guys. Her ass looks inviting.”

“I bet,” Fowler pants as he gives you shallow thrusts, “she stretched that perfect hole with a plug. Right, babycakes. You knew I’m into fucking ass.”

You moan around Barnes’ cock, unable to answer Fowler’s question. You’re their sex toy to use, and nothing else. You can’t move your head, because Barnes guides you up and down his length while Fowler thrusts into your ass.

They work in unison as if they had done this a hundred times before. Their cocks fill your holes, pushing as deep as possible and you get lost in your darkest fantasy. You close your eyes and let yourself fall.

“She’s there, in her little headspace, fuck,” Rogers’ says. “Slow down, make her feel all of it.” He dips his head to watch Fowler stretch your arsehole. “Make her hole gape. I want to go for a ride later too.”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Levinson barks. He stares at your naked form trapped between the others. Levinson is ready to drag them off you to get his turn, but he will wait and have the grand finale. “It’s my turn first!”

“Shit…I’m gonna cum,” you groan around Barnes. He cups the back of your neck again, holding you still when his cum shoots down your throat. “She’s perfect…” He slips out of your mouth, letting you breathe.

You don’t have time to think about his cum on your tongue. Fowler pushes against your shoulders, holding you down to rut into you. His cock slams into your tight hole. You whimper and beg him to slow down, but he won’t. Fowler is determined to fill you up.

“Butterfly?” Levinson asks, and you shake your head. “You’re such a good girl. We never had someone taking it like you did.”

“Please.”

Fowler grabs your hips. He shoves himself as deep as possible inside your ass and stills his hips. He comes with a shout of your name and slaps your ass with both hands.

It’s over as fast as it began. Fowler slips out of you and pushes your broken body onto the bed. You whimper but believe they will give you a break.

“Aw, butterfly, it’s my turn now,” you groan feeling another pair of hands grab your body. The man drags you off the bed and places you on the ground. “Hansen, help me.”

“I’m not your fucking sidekick,” Hansen grunts.

“I told you,” Levinson growls and points at you on the ground, “help me. I want to give her the best. My cum!”

“Fine, fine…” Hansen pushes a pillow under your head. He spreads your legs and presents your cum-leaking pussy to Levinson. “Satisfied?”

“Not yet,” Levinson steps toward your trembling body. He looks down at your naked form, smirking darkly as you stare up at him. The man is just like you, stark naked. “I hope you are ready for me, butterfly.”

You lick your lips, still tasting Barnes’ cum on your tongue. “Yeah…” you whimper and wait for his move.

“Good girl.”

Levinson grips his massive cock. He looks you in the eyes and starts stroking his cock. Moans leave this beautiful man’s lips as he stares at you. His grip tightens around his cock, and he fists himself faster.

Levinson has been on the edge since the moment his eyes landed on you. He wildly jerks his hips and imagines how your cunt will feel around his cock.

“Y/N,” he shouts your name and paints your body with his cum.

The moment his cream ends up on your skin, your body sizes up, and you cum untouched, whimpering as you don’t know what just happened.

“Guys, that was awesome,” Penelope coos. She smirks as the men she hired to spice the party up get dressed. “We all enjoyed your service.”

“Anytime, ma’am,” one of the callboys she paid to give your bridesmaids a good time says.

“I hope the bride got her money’s worth too,” Penelope giggles. “Five men giving her all she ever wanted. Phew…”

“Five men?” The callboy asks. “Ma’am. Every man you hired is within this room. We don’t know the others. We thought you hired someone else for the bride.”

“What?” Penelope stutters. “No. I only called you. I—I didn’t hire anyone else…”

You wake on a soft mattress. A silky nightgown covers your sore body. “Morning, sunshine,” Hansen greets you with a wink. He took the mask off, revealing the mustache you felt more than once against your clit last night. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Penelope outdid herself hiring you,” you grin. “You followed the script. I really enjoyed all of you and your service.”

You roll to your side to watch Barnes sip on his coffee. “You too, Barnes.”

“Bucky, doll,” he winks at you. “I think after I fucked all of your holes you can call me Bucky.”

“I hope Penelope paid you well. This was…phew…” you sit up to look around the room. You frown, as you are not at the bedroom of the house you rented for your bachelorette party. “Where are we?”

“Oh, that,” Nick Fowler laughs. “You see, we are not the callboys your little friend hired. We kind of hijacked your party to get back at your fiancé.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry, we got the script and the guys your friend hired to fuck you gave us all the information we needed.”

“I don’t understand,” you gape at Steve who steps inside the room. He holds the script you handed to Penelope before she hired the callboys in his hands.

“Your fiancé fucked with the wrong person, so we wanted to fuck him over but,” Ari laughs at your shocked expression. “Imagine our surprise when we found out that you wanted to fuck some callboys and send your fiancé the video.”

“He cheated on me,” you snap at Ari. “He never made me cum and dared to cheat on me. I wanted to fulfill my fantasies and get back at him at the same time!”

“I knew I liked her!” Lloyd exclaims. “See, we should do her a favor and send the tape to her now ex-fiancé. He’ll freak out, but she’s safe with us.”

“What?” You huff as the men start chatting about your fiancé, how you came on their cocks, and anything in between. “Guys, where are we?”

“We brought you somewhere safe,” Ari says and turns his attention back toward his coffee. “Don’t worry, butterfly. We like you, and will always make you cum. Just relax, lean back, and enjoy how we dismantle your ex…”

Read more: Their bride (Snippet 1)

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #anyfandomgoesbingo #nick fowler #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ari levinson #smut #tw: consensual non-con #Best bridesmaid ever #dark!fic #tw: cnc

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thefreakandthehair · 2 years ago

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a little fluff for @starrystevie's birthday! hope it's the absolute best day! ✨

Eddie misses Steve.

It's equal parts cute, and maybe a little pitiful because it's only three days in Chicago for his friend's Bachelor Party, but it's already been two days and he misses Steve. Bandit digs his claws into Eddie's thigh as he makes biscuits and begs for pets, curling up comfortably next to Eddie's lap and leaving Steve's side of the couch overwhelmingly cold and empty.

"I know, kid. I know," Eddie coos, scratching their cat behind the left ear as he purrs.

He's glad that Steve had been able to get the time off from work to go, and he's glad that Steve's made friends on his recreational basketball league, and he's not jealous. At all. Not even a little bit.

... Okay, maybe he is a little bit jealous that Brandon gets to see him sweaty and gross in the June heat, running around doing whatever jock-activity they've planned in the backyard of their rented house all weekend, but who can blame him? Steve never gives him a reason to feel insecure so he knows this isn't about Steve. It's not rooted in anything even remotely related to him or their relationship— it's all about Eddie and the nasty voice in the back of his head that pulls out a bullhorn and screams not good enough on a loop.

Condensation from the beer in his free hand drips down his wrist as he rests his elbow on the arm of the couch. It's not the first time he's felt this way, and Steve himself has admitted to feeling the same way from time to time, so he knows that it'll pass. He just needs to focus on something else: DND campaign planning, sketching, writing, cracking out the ol' guitar. He could rewatch Howard the Duck for the hundredth time, or maybe even Labyrinth—

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Eddie's phone buzzes on the coffee table and he fully expects it to be Gareth or Jeff, or maybe Robin. They have plans later that night, both of them missing Steve and all. What he doesn't expect is a series of text messages and 19 photos from Steve.

How funny. It's been five years since they'd become EddieandSteve but seeing Steve's name and smiling photo on his phone sets his little hummingbird heart aflutter even still.

steve 👑: it's so goddamn hot here steve 👑: we're playing cornhole now and just threw a football around steve 👑: sweating all the beer and vodka out as a I go, that's healthy, right? don't worry, I'm drinking a shit ton of water.

Steve includes a selfie of himself, smiling closed-lipped with a baseball cap on backwards and the neck of his tee-shirt drenched in sweat. Eddie wants to lick him dry and that's a thought he'll never tell a living soul, probably not even Steve. No, no definitely not Steve. He'll never live that one down.

steve 👑: oh, and fishing was good! we made some bets on who could catch the most and then who could catch the biggest. I tied for first place for the biggest and I caught 17. brandon got 20 so he won that bet. I'm only letting it go because it's his bachelor party lmao

Eddie swipes to the next photo, one of Steve and Brandon holding their two biggest catches. Steve's sunglasses are sliding down his nose, no doubt from the sun warming his glistening skin, and he's smiling wide against the railing of a boat. As much as he misses him, Eddie can't help but mirror his smile. Call him lovesick or 'down bad', as Robin says, but seeing Steve happy makes him happy.

He continues swiping and reading the little blurb attached to each photo, some of which don't even include Steve but Eddie appreciates them all the same. They don't include Steve, but it feels a lot like Steve trying include Eddie in the weekend. The last picture is one of the entire group, all dozen or so guys lined up on the ship. Brandon stands in the center surrounded by the rest of the group with Steve shuffled in no meaningful spot but to Eddie, Steve is the center of every photo, every moment, everything.

Eddie starts to type a response when his phone dings again. This time, Steve sends a voice message and Eddie presses play so quickly, he nearly knocks poor Bandit off his lap.

Hey, takin' a break from cornhole. I won, by the way, had to make up for losing to Brandon in the fishing bet.

Steve laughs and Eddie's stomach flips. Robin's right. He's down very, very bad for this man.

But I just uh, I miss you, and I know maybe that's sorta lame but I do. The party's great and all, but I can't wait to get back home tomorrow. Tell the kid I said hi. I love you, Ed.

He replays it a few times and shamelessly taps Keep so it doesn't disappear before sending his own voice message.

It's no more lame than me sitting here with Bandit sharing how much we miss you, so you get a pass. I mean, you get a pass on everything all the time, but don't let that go to your pretty head, okay? I'm so fucking glad you're having fun and sowing your jocky oats, but selfishly, I can't wait for you to get home. I'll make it worth your while.

He huffs air through his nose and laughs low in his throat.

Oh, and Robin's coming by in a little bit so I'm gonna grab a bottle of wine. Don't be surprised if you get a FaceTime call later. I love you too, Stevie. So goddamn much.

Eddie sure does miss Steve, but it stings a little less knowing that Steve misses him, too.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steddie ficlets #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things ficlets #st fic #st ficlet #myblurbs #myfic #alcohol cw #eddie and robin do indeed facetime steve later a little wine drunk and steve obviously answers immediately #he misses his boyfriend and his best friend so fucking much #he gets to pass the phone around a little bit and introduce everyone #proudly (and a little drunkenly) proclaiming how much he loves his two favorite people #they play two truths and a lie over facetime with the rest of the bachelor party #when steve gets home the next day eddie and robin get standing invites to everything forever <3333 #no one look at me this idea came from nowhere and i know it's not any of my wips BUT the worms drive the bus

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childlikegoblinqueen · 2 years ago

Text

Results!

I present to you … tipsy (drunk) Hunter.

Steve whistled low and long. “Well? That's …classified information.”

“ You’re classi'fied N'formation.” Hunter snort laughed.

#hunter gets tipsy #steve and hunter bond #bachelor party for steve #willow toh #spotify #camila noceda #toh gus #gus porter #lumity #toh vee

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sebbybailey · 4 months ago

Text

Find You - Oneshot Bucky

Summary: You were at a random club that your friends wanted you to try out and of course, you didn't say no to them because it was your best friend's last party because she was getting married in a week. You were the only girl who was single too and that was fine for you, but your friends insisted that you find a man tonight.

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Hard dancing, you mention that you used to be a stripper and swearing

"Girls, I'm fine being single." you shrugged.

They immediately all scoffed and rolled their eyes at you, clearly not believing you. One of the girls, Jessica, spoke up once more, hoping to change your mind. "C'mon, just for tonight. We aren't even asking you to find anyone serious, just to find someone to have some fun with."

"But I don't want to!" you protested. "I'm still dealing with that breakup with Tyler."

Jessica let out a dramatic sigh, obviously not believing you. "Oh c'mon, it's been like 4 months since that. You need to get back out there and stop moping around, especially at my bachelorette party."

"I'm not moping!" you huffed defensively. "And this just isn't the place. I don't feel like hooking up with some random stranger from a club."

"That's where you're wrong." Jessica smirked, a mischievous look appearing in her eye. She and your other friends exchanged knowing glances, a plan clearly forming in their heads. "You just haven't found the right guy yet." Jessica then glanced at a guy with a left vibranium arm. "You see that guy right there?"

Your eyes followed Jessica's gaze, finally seeing who she was gesturing to. You were a bit taken aback - the man was undeniably attractive, with a sharp jawline and intense gaze. You instantly knew what the girls were trying to do and you turned back to them, shaking your head stubbornly. "Absolutely not. I'm not going over there to hit on an Avenger I don't even know."

Jessica rolled her eyes at your resistance. "Please. Your ex was like, a total loser. I'm pretty sure he cheated on you too." Your other friends nodded in agreement, clearly siding with Jessica on the matter. "And this guy," Jessica gestured back to the dark-haired man again. "He's single, and super hot. He's a total upgrade from Tyler."

You couldn't help but feel a bit insecure as they brought up your ex. They were right - he had been a loser, and there was a good chance he had cheated on you. But that didn't mean you wanted to just hook up with some random guy. "But he's a fucking Avenger!" you said, glancing back over at the man with the metal arm again.

"Exactly, he's an Avenger. They're practically the biggest bachelor's in the world." One of your friends pointed out with a sly grin. Jessica nodded in agreement. "And besides, you've been going on about how hot Steve Rogers was for the last few years. Here's your chance to see if the hype around Barnes is true."

You bit your lip, conflicted. On one hand, you were still dealing with the pain from your previous relationship. On the other hand…you did find Bucky Barnes ridiculously attractive, and it was an open secret that he was single.

The girls could see that you were weakening, and they knew they had you right where they wanted you. They all gave you a cheeky smile, knowing they were about to push you to your limit. "Just give it a shot," Jessica encouraged, gesturing to Bucky again. "Just go talk to him for a few minutes. You don't have to do anything else."

Your heart raced as you looked over at Bucky again. He was standing at the bar, nursing a glass of what looked like whiskey. He seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed on something across the room. You felt a mix of nerves and excitement as you began to consider the idea. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to just talk to him…" you admitted timidly.

The girls exchanged triumphant glances, clearly thrilled that their persuasion was working. "That's the spirit!" Jessica nodded, giving you an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "You've got this, girl. Just go over there and chat with him for a bit. Who knows, maybe you'll hit it off and find out if he's as much of a hottie in person as he is in the tabloids."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Okay, okay. I can do this. I can just go over there and talk to him. It doesn't have to lead to anything more." With a final nod from the girls, you turned and began to make your way over to Bucky's spot at the bar.

As you approached him, you couldn't help but notice that he was even more attractive up close. He was casually dressed, a dark t-shirt clinging to his muscular physique. He had a rugged and dangerous aura about him, and you felt yourself getting a bit flustered already.

Bucky glanced up from his drink as you approached, his intense gaze meeting your own. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his eyes raked over you, taking in your appearance. "Great, another fan girl." he sounded annoyed.

You felt your heart clench at his icy reaction. Ouch, that stung. "Wow, you're rude." you replied, trying to mask the hurt in your voice. "But no, I'm not like some obsessive fan girl. I'm just here with some friends."

Bucky raised an eyebrow skeptically, still regarding you with a cool gaze. "Sure, and you just happen to be randomly approaching me?" he grunted. "No offense sweetheart, but I've met plenty of fans and I know a star-struck look when I see one."

You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest in annoyance. "Look, I'm not some star-struck fan girl and I didn't come over here just to gush over you." you retorted, trying to maintain your composure. "I swear, my friends just dared me to come over and talk to you because they think I need to get back out there."

Bucky's expression shifted from skeptical to somewhat incredulous. He studied you more closely, taking in the defiant look on your face. "Your friends dared you to approach an Avenger?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Interesting group you got there."

You bristled at his sarcastic tone, feeling the irritation rise within you. "Hey, they're just being supportive friends," you retorted, a note of defensiveness in your voice. "They think I need to start dating again because I've been moping around after a break up, but I'm handling it just fine on my own, thank you very much."

Bucky leaned against the bar, his gaze still fixed on you. "So they think you need to find some random guy to hook up with to get over your ex?" he asked, a hint of mocking in his tone. "I'm sorry, but I don't hook up with girls for one night. Not anymore." he went to leave.

You panicked, not wanting to end the conversation there. "Wait, no, that's not what I'm looking for either." you quickly blurted out, reaching out to touch his arm to stop him from leaving. The unexpected touch made him pause, his gaze shifting back to you. "I don't want a hook up either." you continued, your voice softer now. "I just…I'm tired of being alone, you know?"

Bucky's expression softened slightly at your admission, his gaze lingering on where your hand was still resting on his arm. He seemed to consider you for a moment, his intense eyes searching your face. "You're tired of feeling alone, huh?" he asked, his voice gentler now. "Prove it to me."

You felt a flicker of surprise at his sudden demand. "Prove it to you?" you repeated, a little taken aback. "How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

Bucky's gaze grew more intense. "Show me that you're not just another fangirl who wants a quick fling with me because I'm the famous Bucky Barnes." he replied, a hint of challenge in his voice. He looked down and sighed. "I never ask a girl to do this when I meet them…" he muttered. "Hard dance with me on the dance floor to a song of your choosing. I'll tell the DJ to play it."

You felt a mixture of surprise and intrigue at his unexpected request. "You want me to dance with you to prove that I'm not a fangirl?" You repeated, just to make sure you were hearing him correctly. "And I get to pick the song?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, pick any song you want. But if I don't think you mean what you say, I'm walking away." he replied firmly. "And it has to be a full song. I want to see if you can handle it with me."

You couldn't believe you were agreeing to this. But despite your better judgement, you were too intrigued to say no. "Alright," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "I'll dance with you to the song I choose, and you'll see that I'm not just a star-struck fan girl."

Bucky's gaze darkened at your acceptance. "Good," he said gruffly, gesturing for you to follow him towards the dance floor. "Let's see if you can keep up. Pick the song."

You followed him towards the dance floor, feeling butterflies in your stomach. You scanned the crowd and quickly spotted Jessica, who was watching you intently. You made eye contact with her and she gave you an encouraging nod, clearly excited about your bold move.

Looking back at Bucky, you gave a confident nod. "Alright, I have the perfect song in mind. Find You by Zedd feat Matthew Koma and Miriam Bryant."

Bucky relayed your song choice to the DJ, who nodded and began preparing the track. As the opening notes of the song filled the room, Bucky gestured for you to step into his space. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, while his metal arm came to rest on your lower back.

"Now let's see if you can really dance." he said with a hint of a smirk.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as Bucky pulled you close. You could feel the heat radiating off his muscularbody and the firm pressure of his arm around your waist. You placed your trembling hands on his broad chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your palms.

You looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze. "Don't underestimate me," you retorted, trying to project confidence. "I know how to dance. I used to be a stripper."

Bucky's eyebrows rose slightly at your admission. He stared down at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "A stripper, huh?" he asked, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards into a smirk. "Interesting." He pulled you even closer, his hand on your lower back pressing you against his body. "I guess that means you can move your hips pretty well, then." he turned you around, his chest being against your back and he grabbed your hips.

Your pulse quickened at his words, and even more so as he turned you around, his chest pressing against your back and his hands grasping your hips. You could feel his breath gently brush against your ear, making you shiver.

"Yeah, I can move my hips quite well," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of huskiness. You pushed your hips back against him in time with the music, feeling his strong body against yours.

Bucky made a low sound in his throat as you pushed your hips back against him, clearly appreciating the way you moved to the music. His fingers dug slightly into your hips, holding you firmly against him. "You weren't kidding. Not bad." he murmured, his voice a deep rumble near your ear.

Both you and him would start bouncing up and down with the crowd as beat started to go faster.

You felt a mix of pride and exhilaration as Bucky's voice murmured his approval in your ear. The feel of his strong fingers gripping your hips and the hard contours of his body against yours sent a rush of heat through your body.

As the beat sped up, you let the music take over, moving more freely against him, your hips rolling and grinding in time with the rhythm. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt this alive on a dance floor, the chemistry between you and Bucky electrifying the space around you.

You both laughed when the song ended and you turned around, your arms wrapping around his neck. That's when Golden Hour by JVKE started to play.

Bucky's intense gaze met yours as the new song started playing, the softer and more romantic melody of "Golden Hour" filling the room. He slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

He leaned in closer to you with his face right in front of your, his breath warm against your skin. "So, you think you've proven yourself?" he asked, his voice low and sultry.

You instinctively melted against him as he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together seamlessly with the more intimate tempo of the song. You could feel the rapid beating of your own heart in your chest as Bucky's face hovered so close to yours.

"I hope so," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you met his intense gaze. "Did I pass the test, Barnes?"

Bucky's gaze lingered on your face, his eyes flickering to your lips before returning to your own. He could feel the heat radiating off your body and the soft scent of your perfume filling his senses.

"I'd say you did," he murmured, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. "You've got moves, I'll give you that. And you've proven that you're not just some fangirl who wants a quick fling."

You felt a sense of relief mixed with excitement at his words, knowing that you had managed to break through his initial skepticism. As you continued to dance to the soothing rhythm of the song, your body felt like it was on fire. Every press and rub against him felt electric, the connection between you growing stronger with each beat.

"Well, I guess I managed to impress an Avenger," you joked lightly, trying to downplay the mounting tension between you two. "You made this night the best night of my life."

Bucky chuckled at your joke, a small smile curving his lips. He could feel the heat and tension between you two as you continued to dance, the slow, intimate movements of the song making the moment feel even more intense.

"You're definitely not like any other girl I've met," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your face. "You're bold, you've got fire in you, and you know how to dance." He shifted a bit, pulling you even closer until your bodies were molded together, your face only inches apart.

Bucky noticed the look you gave over your shoulder and followed your gaze, spotting Jessica giving you a thumbs up from across the room. He let out a low chuckle, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

He shifted his attention back to you, his hands on your hips firm and possessive. "Looks like your girl's giving us her stamp of approval," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You laughed, your breath catching as Bucky's hands gripped tighter on your hips. "Yeah, she's rooting for me," you replied, a small smile on your lips.

You realized that you were completely flush against him. The heat from his body and his intense gaze was making it hard to focus on anything but him. "I wanna get to know you after this."

Bucky's gaze darkened as you spoke, the hint of a growl in his voice. "I'd like to get to know you too. Even your stripper name." he chuckled.

You felt a blush wash over your cheeks at his words, the heat of his body against yours and the huskiness in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Who said that was my stripper name?" you retorted, a hint of sass in your tone.

Time Jump (6 years later)

You were sitting on the couch with your 4-year-old daughter in your lap and your 3-year-old daughter on Bucky's lap. "That's how me and your father met," you said to your two girls.

"Wait wait, there's more to this story," Bucky interjected, a playful grin on his face. "We're getting to the best part. Your mother's stripper name."

Your face flushed at his words, knowing full well where this was going. "Bucky, you really don't have to-" you protested, but he cut you off.

"Yeah, yeah, I do have to," he said, mischief in his eyes. "Because if they're old enough to ask how we met, they're old enough to know your stripper name."

Your daughters looked between the two of you, their expressions a mix of confused curiosity. "What's your stripper name, Mommy?" your four-year-old asked, her innocent gaze wide.

You let out a sigh of resignation, knowing there was no way to avoid this conversation anymore. You glance at Bucky, who was trying to suppress a smirk, clearly enjoying this moment.

"Alright, fine," you relented, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. "My stripper name was your name Becca... well your full name, but that's not what me and your Dad named you after. You already know who you're named after, anyways."

Your daughters eyes widened at the revelation, their little minds trying to wrap around the concept of their mom being a stripper. "You were a stripper, Mommy?" your three-year-old asked, her voice filled with awe.

You let out a small laugh, feeling a mixture of amusement and slight embarrassment. "Well, yeah, I used to be," you replied, trying to downplay it a bit for your young children. "But that was a long, long time ago. Before I met your dad."

Bucky chuckled, his hand rubbing your back in a comforting gesture. "And your mom was quite a sight as a stripper," he added, shooting you a playful wink. "She performed for me on our one year anniversary of dating and that was the night we conceived you, Becca."

You punched Bucky's shoulder. "Bucky, she's only four years old!"

Bucky winced at your punch, but he continued to laugh, unphased. "Just getting all the facts out there, sweetheart," he teased, his hand still rubbing your back.

"Momma, who am I named after?" your youngest asked.

You smiled at your youngest, running a hand through her hair. "You are named after your dad's best friend," you explained. "But we couldn't name you Steve since that was a male name so we chose Stevie. Your sister however was named after your father's sister, Rebecca."

Both of your daughters seemed satisfied with your explanation, their little minds processing the information. After a moment, your eldest daughter spoke up, a sparkle in her eye.

"Can you teach me how to dance like you, Mommy?" she asked, a pleading look on her face.

You let out a laugh, surprised by your daughter's request. "Sweetheart, you're a little young for that," you replied, feeling a mixture of amusement and trepidation.

Bucky, meanwhile, looked like he was trying hard to suppress a smirk. He glanced at you, a glint of humor in his eyes. "We really made a family, huh?"

You looked at Bucky, feeling a wave of affection and contentment wash over you. He was right. You had come a long way since the night you met. You had gotten past his initial skepticism and made him fall in love with you, despite your different beginnings.

You reached out a hand, lacing your fingers with his. "Yeah," you said softly. "We really did."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fandom #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction

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amethystarachnid · 3 days ago

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Hey this is my first ever request. I hope you'll write it. Can i ask for tony stark & y/n's wedding with natasha, bruce, steve, thor and happy (no other characters plz) as their friends and help them with the arrangements and its just so chaotic and fun since planning, shopping and to the actual ceremony. Y/n is nice, friendly and grateful for their help and tony keeps sassing around and sneaks in between just to kiss y/n and the avengers see it and tease him about it 😙 and fluffy and funny things like that

please 🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️

CHAOS & CONFETTI

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: fluff, romance, some action

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing I think?

ᯓ★ Love is in the air - Valentine's Day special game

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The ring on your finger still feels surreal. Even after a week of wearing it, you catch yourself staring at it when you think no one's looking. The moment Tony got down on one knee, there was no hesitation in your answer. You said yes before he even finished the question. He grinned like he’d just hacked the Pentagon and pulled off the ultimate prank, and now, somehow, you’re planning a Stark-level wedding with… well, the Avengers.

That’s probably your first mistake.

Tony, of course, insists on making it a “team effort,” because as he says it, “What’s the point of having a super squad if you can’t weaponize them for cake tastings and table arrangements?” You tell him that sounds like a terrible idea. He kisses your forehead and says, “Exactly. It'll be memorable.”

You should’ve known then.

It starts on a Tuesday morning. You’re sitting on the couch in the common room of the tower, scrolling through Pinterest and wondering if it's physically possible to have too many fairy lights at a wedding. Tony walks in, grabs a handful of almonds from a bowl like it’s popcorn, and announces, “All right, my brilliant, beautiful fiancée. I have assembled the wedding planning task force.”

You lower your phone. “You did what?”

He gestures dramatically toward the door.

One by one, they enter.

Natasha, looking vaguely amused but sipping black coffee like she’s preparing for a long day. Bruce, already carrying a clipboard, wearing a kind expression that says, I’m going to pretend this is going to go smoothly. Steve follows, nodding politely, trying very hard not to look panicked. Thor enters last, in full Asgardian armor because he "wasn't informed this was a casual event." Happy peeks in from the hallway, clearly trying to sneak away, but Tony pulls him in like he's the final piece of some ridiculous Avengers puzzle.

You blink.

“This is your task force?”

Tony beams. “Dream team, baby.”

Happy raises a hand. “I’m only here because he promised me donuts.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

The first meeting is held in the main conference room — the same one used for life-or-death mission briefings and SHIELD-level security threats. Now it's got swatches of fabric and floral samples spread across the table like war plans. You watch as Natasha neatly organizes everything while Steve attempts to color-coordinate swatches with a look of deep confusion. Bruce starts sketching layout options on his tablet. Thor is poking a bouquet of peonies, asking, “Are these the Midgardian ones that smell like roasted goat, or am I thinking of another?”

Tony stands at the head of the table, arms folded like he’s directing a military operation. “All right, let’s break it down. We’ve got catering, decor, venue, music, guest list, cake, bachelor party, bachelorette party—”

“You’re not planning the bachelorette party,” you cut in.

Tony winks. “Only a few ideas. Flamethrowers. Helicopters. Flamethrowers on helicopters.”

Natasha hums. “I volunteer as tribute to veto everything he just said.”

Bruce raises his hand like a concerned science teacher. “Should we maybe start with something simple? Like... theme?”

Steve nods quickly. “Themes are good. I like themes. Patriotic ones, maybe. Red, white, and—”

“No,” you and Tony say at the same time.

Thor slams a fist onto the table, nearly toppling a centerpiece. “There should be fireworks! Endless fireworks!”

Happy sighs. “If this turns into another interdimensional incident, I’m not putting it on the insurance report.”

You stand slowly, trying not to laugh. “Guys. One thing at a time.”

The next few hours are a blur of chaos.

Natasha is shockingly good at organizing people, and quickly takes the reins on logistics. She starts grilling you for decisions like she's interrogating a HYDRA agent. “Color palette. Pick three. No more.” You sputter and try to point to a mood board. She slaps it out of the way. “Those are four colors. Cut one.”

Bruce is quietly mapping out seating charts, but keeps asking you if anyone has a “history” with anyone else. “I just don’t want to seat Thor next to someone who might cause an incident.” He glances at Thor, who is now drinking coffee straight from the pot. “Again.”

Steve is surprisingly passionate about tuxedo fittings and insists on a classic, timeless look. You think he’s just relieved to be dealing with suits and not high-tech weaponry. He draws some concept sketches that actually look like Vogue covers.

Meanwhile, Happy is trying to figure out how to get food trucks onto the tower’s helipad, and Tony is now suggesting that the cake should be a life-size ice sculpture of the two of you, filled with champagne.

You look over at Bruce, who looks like he aged ten years in an hour.

By day three of planning, things have escalated.

Natasha is now your maid of honor by default because she scares everyone else into submission. She's made a spreadsheet so color-coded it could qualify as modern art. You love her.

Thor has taken over flower selection and is sending crates of Asgardian flora to Earth. You walk into the living room to find a bouquet that’s pulsating with blue light. It might be sentient.

Steve is still holding out hope for a marching band.

Happy has started asking you both if you’d rather elope.

Bruce is designing a stress-free “meditation zone” for the reception, complete with bean bags and aromatherapy diffusers. It smells like lavender and impending doom.

You and Tony, of course, are having the time of your lives.

Every evening, you collapse onto the couch with him, both of you exhausted and grinning. He pulls you into his lap, your legs draped over his, and kisses your cheek. “Best decision I ever made,” he murmurs.

“You mean proposing?”

“No, bringing in Thor. Did you see the flowers? That bouquet tried to bite Steve.”

You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. “This is insane.”

He looks at you like you hung the stars. “Yeah. But it’s our kind of insane.”

The next big challenge? The tasting.

You arrive at the test kitchen where Natasha has scheduled three catering options. Bruce brings a whiteboard with notes on allergies, dietary restrictions, and approximate quantities based on caloric intake. Thor eats an entire tray of appetizers before anyone can stop him.

“Are we allowed to bring mead?” he asks.

“Only if you don’t set the table on fire again,” Steve mutters, reaching for a napkin.

Tony's contribution is hiring a celebrity chef just to impress you. The guy barely makes it through the first course before Natasha pulls him aside and quietly tells him that if he adds foam to anything again, she'll relocate his kneecaps.

By the end of the tasting, you’re so full you can barely move, and Happy is asleep at the table. Bruce is analyzing your reactions with the seriousness of a nuclear scientist. “You smiled more with Option B. It could be the truffle oil.”

Tony grabs your hand and kisses the back of it. “Whichever you pick, we’ll serve it in floating platters. I already have prototypes.”

“I don’t need floating food, babe.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You say that now.”

As the weeks go by, the chaos only deepens. You find Thor stringing up lights with Steve, both of them arguing over voltage. Natasha and Happy somehow become co-DJs when you veto Tony’s playlist filled entirely with AC/DC. Bruce builds a drone-based photography system, and Tony insists it wear a tiny tux.

But in the middle of all the madness, you find the sweet parts.

Steve brings you tea one afternoon, gently telling you to take a break. Natasha helps you pick out your dress — no nonsense, no drama, just her calm voice telling you that you look powerful. Bruce lets you cry on his shoulder when you get overwhelmed. Thor, for all his dramatics, leaves little hand-written notes with weird Asgardian blessings around the tower. Happy gives you a thumbs-up every time you pass him, like he’s reminding you that you got this.

And Tony?

He’s always there.

When you’re too tired to think, he carries you to bed. When you’re stressed about table settings, he makes you laugh until you can’t breathe. He doesn’t care about the flowers or the suits or the menu. He just wants to marry you.

“Even if the cake explodes and Thor sets the band on fire,” he says one night, tangled up in bed with you. “As long as you say I do, it’ll be perfect.”

You smile, heart full.

“Deal.”

---

The planning doesn’t slow down. If anything, it ramps up to levels you didn’t even think were possible. Every day feels like some kind of mission briefing gone horribly off-track, and yet, somehow, you’re still moving forward. You try your best to keep things under control, to be nice and grateful because, honestly, they’re all putting in a ridiculous amount of effort. Even Happy, who is definitely pretending he wants nothing to do with it but still shows up every day with a new logistical solution.

Tony, however, is a menace.

He loves the chaos. Feeds off it. While you’re trying to go over the finalized guest list with Bruce and Natasha, Tony is in the corner trying to convince Thor that it would be hilarious to have fireworks shoot out of the cake when you cut it. Thor is all in. Steve is not.

“I’m not stopping you,” Steve says, flipping through his list of responsibilities. “But I will say, if you set fire to the cake, I’m not going to be the one explaining it to Y/N.”

Tony leans back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. “She loves me. She’ll forgive me.”

You glance up from your notes. “You sure about that?”

Tony smirks. “Eighty percent.”

Happy sighs heavily. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

Dress shopping gets scheduled for the following week, and Natasha is fully in charge. You don’t argue. She’s efficient, has good taste, and knows how to make a decision. She also immediately bans all men from the process.

Tony hates it.

The moment he hears about it, he whirls around from his latest wedding-related disaster (arguing with Bruce over whether AI-controlled serving trays are really necessary) and looks betrayed. “Wait. I’m not invited?”

Natasha doesn’t even look up from her tablet. “No.”

Tony gestures to himself. “But I’m the groom.”

“That’s exactly why.”

He turns to you, desperate. “Babe.”

You try to keep a straight face, but the pout he’s giving you is so ridiculous that you have to look away. “You’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be fine. I’ll be suffering.” He groans and leans dramatically against the counter. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me with these guys.”

“You’ll survive.”

He watches as Natasha gives you a rundown of the appointments. “Fine. But I will be sneaking in at some point.”

Natasha doesn’t even blink. “I will have you thrown out.”

On the day of, you make sure to kiss Tony before you leave, which is the only reason he lets you go without more whining. Natasha, to no one’s surprise, is the best possible person to take dress shopping. She’s brutally honest, efficient, and knows how to keep the process from feeling overwhelming. She even lets you pause for snacks in between appointments, which automatically makes her your favorite person for the day.

Some dresses are immediate no’s. Some are contenders. Some are almost perfect. But then, after a few hours, you put one on, and the moment you step out of the dressing room, you know. The fabric is soft, the fit is perfect, and when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, your heart stumbles in your chest.

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “That’s the one.”

You turn, studying yourself. “You think?”

She nods. “You look dangerous in that dress.”

You laugh. “That’s not exactly the goal.”

“No, but it’s a bonus.”

You let out a slow breath. It’s real now. The ring on your finger, the wedding planning, the future you’re about to have with Tony. The idea of marrying him never scared you, but seeing yourself in a wedding dress makes it all feel even more real. You grin. “Yeah. This is the one.”

Back at the tower, Tony is pacing like an impatient child waiting for a present. Every time someone walks into the common room, he turns, hopeful. When it’s not you, he groans.

Steve is on his third cup of coffee, watching with mild amusement. “You could do something productive.”

Tony scoffs. “I am being productive. I’m preparing to be emotionally supportive.”

Happy flips through a magazine. “You’ve done nothing but sigh dramatically for the last twenty minutes.”

“I’m really good at sighing dramatically.”

When you finally get back, arms full of shopping bags, Tony practically launches off the couch. The moment you step through the door, he’s there, kissing you before you can even say hi. He cups your face, tilting his head as he presses soft, lingering kisses against your lips.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “She was gone for five hours, Stark.”

Tony ignores her. “Did you miss me?”

You laugh, arms winding around his neck. “A little.”

He grins. “What’d you get? Show me.”

“Absolutely not.”

His grin fades into something comically devastated. “Why are you so mean to me?”

Thor, who has just walked in, claps a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Do not despair, friend Stark. The element of surprise is a most sacred Midgardian wedding tradition.”

Tony groans. “You’re all conspiring against me.”

Steve smirks. “And?”

Tony glares at him.

In the following weeks, things only escalate. The wedding planning moves forward at full speed, with each Avenger handling their own responsibilities. Natasha keeps everything running smoothly. Bruce finalizes logistics. Thor continues to be overly enthusiastic about everything. Steve tries to be the responsible one but ends up getting dragged into nonsense anyway. Happy threatens to quit at least once a day, but never actually does.

And Tony?

Tony sneaks kisses every chance he gets.

You could be reviewing seating charts, and suddenly he’s there, pressing a kiss to your temple. You could be talking to the florist, and he’ll dip in, dropping a quick peck on your cheek before disappearing. You could be mid-conversation with Natasha about final headcounts, and suddenly his arms are around your waist, lips grazing the side of your neck.

It doesn’t go unnoticed.

Steve groans every time it happens. “Do you have to do that?”

Tony smirks. “Yes.”

Natasha just raises an eyebrow. “At least try to be subtle.”

Thor, who clearly finds the entire thing entertaining, simply nods in approval. “Affection is a most glorious thing.”

Bruce sighs. “Can we get through one meeting without this?”

Tony grins. “Doubt it.”

You’re not exactly helping. Every time he sneaks a kiss, you let him. Maybe even encourage it. He makes you laugh, makes you feel loved, makes even the most ridiculous parts of planning fun. The stress never lasts long when he’s around.

One night, after a particularly long day of decisions, you find yourself curled up with him on the couch. The tower is quiet. Everyone else has gone to bed. It’s just the two of you, warm and comfortable.

Tony presses a kiss to your forehead. “You still having fun?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s a lot, but… it’s good.”

He smiles, fingers trailing down your arm. “I’m proud of you.”

You blink. “For what?”

“For handling all this. For putting up with me. For making this whole thing feel like an adventure instead of a chore.”

You tilt your head, studying him. “You do realize I’m marrying you, right? The chaos is part of the package.”

He grins. “Damn right it is.”

You curl closer, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I can’t wait.”

His arms tighten around you. “Me neither.”

The wedding is getting closer. The chaos is getting bigger. But in the middle of it all, it’s just you and Tony, making something beautiful out of the madness.

---

The wedding is a few days away, and everything is supposed to be settling into place. Most of the big decisions have been made. The dress is hanging safely in a protected, no-Tony-allowed section of the tower. The guest list is finalized, the seating chart approved by both Bruce and Natasha, the menu confirmed, the flowers—despite Thor’s best efforts—mostly Earth-based and non-sentient.

Tony has started counting down the days with a marker on the fridge like a child waiting for Christmas. Every morning he puts a red X over the date with the flair of a man who’s waiting for his reward at the finish line.

You’re excited. You’re happy. You’re also exhausted.

Between fitting appointments, final walkthroughs of the venue, constant emails, and all the little decisions that never seem to end, your brain feels like it’s been stuffed with confetti. Pretty, yes. Useful, no.

But you manage. You stay kind, patient, grateful, because these people—this mismatched, chaotic, wildly dramatic little team—have thrown themselves into your wedding planning like it’s a top-priority mission. You love them for it. You love Tony for dragging them into it. You love everything about how personal and messy and strange this whole experience has been.

Until it breaks.

It starts with a phone call. You’re halfway through checking the RSVP confirmations when your phone rings. Natasha’s name flashes on the screen. You answer without hesitation, still scribbling notes with your other hand.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She’s quiet for a second. Then, “The venue’s flooded.”

You stop writing. “What?”

“There was a pipe burst. Something about a pressure valve and a broken sprinkler system. Water damage everywhere. They’re saying it’s unusable for at least two weeks.”

Your stomach drops. You feel the blood drain from your face.

“But—we’re getting married in four days.”

“I know. I’m already calling around for backups.”

You try to stay calm. Try to be rational. It’s just a place. A building. There are other buildings. But this wasn’t just avenue. It was the venue. The one that made your eyes light up when you walked in for the first time. The one that made Tony say, “Yup, this is it,” before you’d even gotten past the lobby. The one where you’d imagined everything—your walk down the aisle, your first dance, the way the light would hit the stained-glass windows as you said your vows.

Gone.

You thank Natasha. You hang up. You sit there for a few minutes, just breathing.

When you go to tell Tony, he’s mid-conversation with Happy and Bruce about generator backups and emergency lighting in case of a power outage. He looks up when he sees your face.

“Hey,” he says, all warmth and confidence. “What’s wrong?”

You open your mouth. You try to speak. Nothing comes out.

Happy excuses himself quietly. Bruce gives you a concerned look, then leaves too. Tony walks over, brows furrowing.

“Talk to me.”

“The venue,” you say, voice shaking. “It’s ruined. A flood. Natasha’s trying to find something else but… there’s no way it’ll be the same.”

Tony is quiet for a second. Then, “Okay. We’ll fix it.”

You nod, but it doesn’t help. Not really. You stay composed until later, when everything’s done for the day and you’re back in your room. The moment the door closes behind you and it’s just you and Tony, your knees buckle.

He’s there before you hit the floor.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you’re in his arms, shaking and breathless and broken in a way you didn’t expect to be. It’s not just about the venue. It’s the stress and the exhaustion and the feeling of watching something you’d planned and dreamed about slip through your fingers days before it was supposed to become real.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, burying your face in his chest. “I’m sorry, I just—I held it together all day and I didn’t want to ruin it for anyone and now I—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” His voice is soft, grounding. He pulls you into his lap on the bed, arms around you like steel. “You don’t have to apologize. Not to me. Not ever.”

You clutch at his shirt, your tears soaking into the fabric. “I just wanted it to be perfect.”

Tony kisses your forehead, your temple, the top of your head. “It will be perfect. Not because of the venue. Not because of the cake or the flowers or anything else. Because I’m marrying you. And that’s the part that matters.”

You try to breathe. Try to calm down. It takes a while.

He doesn’t rush you.

He just holds you, letting you cry it out. When you’re finally able to sit up and look at him, your eyes are puffy and your nose is stuffy and you feel like a mess.

He brushes your hair out of your face and smiles. “Still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You laugh wetly. “Liar.”

He grins. “Only a little.”

He helps you into bed, wraps you in blankets, orders your favorite food without asking. You eat in bed, curled against him, your hand in his, your heart aching but not quite as broken as it was before.

You fall asleep in his arms, exhausted.

The next morning, he’s gone when you wake up.

You blink blearily, expecting to find a note or maybe a text. Instead, you get Bruce knocking gently on the door with a mug of coffee and a nervous smile.

“Tony wants you on the roof.”

“The roof?”

He nods. “Just go. Trust me.”

You throw on some clothes and make your way up, still rubbing sleep from your eyes. The elevator opens, and you step out into—

Magic.

The roof has been transformed.

There’s a platform built on the far end, draped in soft white fabric, like a makeshift altar. Rows of sleek chairs line the area, facing the skyline. Twinkle lights hang overhead, and flowers—real, Earth-approved ones—spill from every corner. There’s a soft breeze, the scent of roses and something faintly citrusy in the air. The city stretches out behind it all, breathtaking.

And standing in the middle of it, wearing a suit and a grin and holding a cup of coffee in each hand, is Tony.

You just stare.

“What is this?”

“Your new venue,” he says, walking over to hand you a cup. “It’s got a hell of a view.”

“You—how?”

He shrugs. “Told Friday to run a logistics sweep. Got some contractors up here overnight. Bruce handled power. Natasha blackmailed the city into expediting a permit. Thor brought a truck full of flowers. Happy made sure nobody fell off the roof.”

You’re speechless.

He looks proud. A little smug. Mostly just happy. “It’s not the original plan. But I figured... why not get married right where we fell in love?”

You blink. “We fell in love on the roof?”

“Kind of. First time I realized you were the one? You were yelling at me up here after I blew up the north wall during that party. You looked incredible, even covered in plaster dust. Told me I was reckless and stupid. Then kissed me before storming off.”

You laugh. “I remember that.”

“I never forgot it.”

You look around again. It’s beautiful. It’s not what you planned. It’s better.

Tony takes your hand. “Say yes.”

You smile through the tears starting to form again. “I already did.”

“Say it again.”

“Yes.”

He kisses you, right there in the morning light, on the roof of the tower, surrounded by the strange, beautiful life you built together. And you know—no matter what else goes wrong, no matter what chaos the next few days bring—this is the part that matters. This is the part that will last.

And somehow, it’s perfect.

---

Tony starts complaining the moment the bachelor and bachelorette parties are mentioned.

“Why do we have to split up?” he whines, slumped dramatically across the couch like it’s the worst news he’s ever received. “We’re getting married. This is the opposite of the point.”

You’re sitting beside him, casually going through a list of last-minute tasks. “Because that’s how it works, babe.”

He lifts his head. “That’s how it used to work. Back when people thought it was cool to black out in Vegas and wake up with a hangover and a questionable tattoo.”

“You’re not getting a tattoo.”

“I might,” he says, then quickly backpedals when you raise your eyebrows. “Okay, I won’t. But still—what if I just... come to yours? I could wear a wig. No one would know.”

You laugh, leaning over to kiss his temple. “You’ll survive one night without me.”

“Bold of you to assume.”

But despite all his theatrics, he agrees. Mainly because Natasha tells him she’ll tase him if he ruins the plan, and Steve says something about “tradition” in that annoyingly calm voice of his. Bruce promises it won’t be wild, just a chance to relax, unwind, and have fun before the big day. Happy says nothing, just sighs in quiet resignation because he knows he’ll be dealing with the fallout either way.

You and Natasha plan your night first. You’re not interested in strippers or weird party games. You want good food, good drinks, and your friends. She books a private space at your favorite rooftop bar, the one with the soft lighting and the killer mocktails, because she knows you’ve been trying to cut back a little during wedding prep. She invites only the closest people—Bruce is obviously excluded, and Tony’s already been banned—but she manages to wrangle in a few of your girlfriends from outside the tower. It’s the kind of night you’ve been too busy to even consider having lately.

Tony sees you before you leave. He doesn’t say much. Just stands in the doorway of your shared closet, arms folded, watching you get ready with a pout on his face.

“You’re going to be gone for hours.”

You give him a look in the mirror. “You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Steve’s literally picking you up in fifteen minutes.”

“That’s not comforting.”

You walk over and smooth your hands over his chest. “We’ll both have fun. Then we’ll meet back here and tell each other everything. Deal?”

Tony leans down to kiss you slow, sweet, and just a little smug. “You’ll miss me.”

“I always do.”

He lets you go with another kiss and a dramatic farewell. “If I die of boredom, tell my AI children I loved them.”

Natasha is already waiting by the elevator when you step out. She gives you an approving look. “Looking good, bride-to-be.”

“You too,” you say with a grin. “Ready to party?”

“Let’s cause minimal but memorable chaos.”

Your night is perfect. It’s everything you need it to be. Laughter, drinks, a killer view of the city. Your friends are loud and affectionate, spilling stories about your past, sharing toasts that are equal parts hilarious and heartfelt. Natasha orders food like you’re feeding an army and refuses to let anyone lift a finger, even the servers.

You catch up with people you haven’t seen in months, soak in their excitement and support, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like a human being again instead of just a stressed-out checklist machine. Natasha gets you to dance—badly—on the patio, hair blowing in the wind, drink in one hand, the other raised to the sky like you're invincible.

The night flies.

Meanwhile, Tony’s version of a bachelor party is exactly what you'd expect.

Steve insists on something classy. “A night of celebration, not debauchery,” he says with conviction.

Thor brings the opposite energy. “There must be mead! And feasting! And perhaps a minor battle!”

Bruce sighs. “Please no battles.”

They settle on something in the middle: a private lounge downtown, secure and quiet but with excellent food, a vintage liquor selection that Tony personally curated, and enough space for Thor to swing his arms dramatically without hitting anything fragile.

Tony pretends to sulk for the first hour. “She’s probably having more fun than me,” he mutters into his drink.

Steve rolls his eyes. “She’s with Natasha. That means at least three emergency escape routes and zero felonies.”

Tony lifts his glass. “To functional chaos.”

Despite himself, he ends up enjoying the night. Thor tells dramatic stories that may or may not be true. Steve manages to get a little tipsy, which is both rare and hilarious. Bruce brings out a toast so heartfelt that Tony actually gets quiet for a minute after it. Happy mostly drinks and keeps a watchful eye on the rest of them like a chaperone who gave up on enforcing the rules but still doesn’t want anyone to die.

There are gifts, mostly joke ones. Thor gives him a ceremonial Asgardian dagger and declares it a wedding token. Steve presents him with a framed photo of the team, signed like it’s a yearbook. Bruce gives him a box labeled “for emergencies only,” filled with calming teas and a card that says don’t blow anything up in neat handwriting.

At one point, Tony slips away to the balcony and checks his phone. He doesn’t message you—he promised not to—but he stares at your contact photo for a while, smiling like an idiot.

Back at your party, you’re sitting with Natasha on a velvet bench, sipping water and watching the skyline.

“You doing okay?” she asks.

“Better than okay,” you say. “This was perfect. I didn’t think I needed it, but I did.”

She nods, eyes flicking to your face. “You love him.”

You look at her. “Of course I do.”

“Good. Because if you hurt him, I’ll end you.”

You laugh. “He said the same thing about you.”

She smirks. “Smart man.”

Eventually, the party winds down. People hug you goodbye, kiss your cheek, tell you they can’t wait for the big day. Natasha rides back with you, quiet and content, until the elevator doors open and you both step into the penthouse.

Tony is already waiting.

You don’t even say anything. You just walk straight into his arms. He smells like whiskey and something expensive, and he wraps around you like he’s been waiting all night for this.

“Miss me?” he mumbles into your neck.

“Always.”

He pulls back to look at you. “Did you have fun?”

“So much.”

He grins. “Me too. Don’t tell Steve.”

You press your forehead to his. “We’re getting married tomorrow.”

He exhales slowly, like he still can’t quite believe it. “Yeah. We are.”

And for a moment, in the quiet, it’s just the two of you again—no planners, no checklists, no chaos. Just love. Raw, overwhelming, and real.

You fall asleep wrapped around each other, wedding on the horizon, the city quiet outside the windows. Whatever comes next, you’re ready.

Together.

The morning of the wedding is clear and warm. Not too hot, not too cold, and not a cloud in sight. It’s like the universe knew you needed one day to go exactly as planned. The whole tower is buzzing with activity—hairdryers, zippers, camera clicks, and Bruce muttering to himself as he tries to figure out how to tie a bowtie.

You’re tucked away in a private suite upstairs, surrounded by soft music and the quiet murmur of Natasha and a few close friends. Your dress is hanging from a rack, safe and perfect. You’d kept it hidden for so long that just seeing it now makes your heart jump.

Natasha walks up behind you with a coffee. “You nervous?”

You take a sip and nod. “Yeah. But also no. It’s weird.”

“Good weird?”

“The best kind.”

She grins. “He’s been pacing downstairs since dawn.”

You smile. That sounds right.

Downstairs, Tony is pacing. In a tux. With the sleeves already half-rolled because “this is a wedding, not a hostage situation.” Steve is trying to get him to calm down. Happy gave up and is just watching from the corner like a man who’s seen some things.

“I just don’t want anything to explode,” Tony mutters, adjusting his cufflinks again. “That’s not unreasonable, right?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “No. But I think you’re more likely to explode than anything else.”

“I’m holding it together.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m emotionally stable,” Tony says. Then he turns and yells, “WHERE’S THE FLOWER GUY?”

Bruce appears in the doorway with a box of tissues. “Thought you might need these.”

“I’m not crying.”

“Yet.”

The rooftop looks stunning. Twinkle lights, soft flowers, sunlight hitting the city skyline just right. Thor is waiting in the front row, wearing something that might be armor but also might be a tux. No one’s sure. Natasha is in her seat, legs crossed, sunglasses on, looking like she runs the world.

Then the music starts.

Tony’s heart skips a beat.

And then you’re there.

Walking toward him, dress flowing, eyes locked on his. Everything else fades. The noise, the nerves, the people. It’s just you. Every step is one closer to forever, and Tony’s face—usually smug, snarky, or smugly snarky—softens completely. His eyes shine.

“You’re late,” he whispers when you reach him.

“You’d wait,” you whisper back.

“Forever.”

The ceremony is simple. Funny. Sweet. Bruce officiates because he’s the only one calm enough to speak without breaking into tears. He keeps it short. He says, “I’m not going to make a speech, because let’s be real, this is already the most emotionally overwhelming moment in this tower’s history.”

Everyone laughs. Even Natasha.

Vows come next. Yours are heartfelt. You talk about love in chaos, about finding peace in Tony, about the way he made you believe in things again.

Tony’s are half promises and half jokes. He swears to never leave a project unfinished. He vows to keep kissing you every morning, even if you’re grumpy. He says he’ll always let you have the last slice of pizza, even if it hurts.

“And I promise,” he says, voice catching a little, “to love you when things are good, when they’re bad, and even when I’ve accidentally set something on fire.”

“Again?” you murmur.

He grins. “Probably.”

You kiss. The team cheers. Thor yells something in Asgardian that no one translates. You think it’s something like “long may they party.”

The reception is chaos in the best way.

Food everywhere. Laughter. A playlist that bounces from soft romantic to complete dance-floor anarchy. Tony spins you around on the dance floor like he’s waited his whole life to do it. He steps on your dress. You step on his foot. You both laugh so hard you forget the choreography you didn’t practice.

Steve gives a speech that’s so sincere you almost cry. Then Thor follows with a toast involving a large mug, the phrase “battle love,” and a story about two trolls who fell in love during war.

Bruce tries to restore balance with a nerdy but touching tribute. Happy just nods from his seat and raises his glass, the most heartfelt gesture from him yet.

Natasha hands you a shot and says, “To surviving the planning. May the marriage be easier.”

At one point, you catch Tony sneaking extra slices of cake behind the display. He holds one out to you with a wink. “Marriage is about sharing.”

You take the bite. “It’s also about not stealing the desserts before the official cutting.”

“Same thing.”

You laugh, leaning against him as the music swells.

By the end of the night, your feet hurt, your face aches from smiling, and you’re more in love than you’ve ever been.

The next morning, you wake up next to your husband.

It’s weird and wonderful to think of him that way. He’s already awake, lying on his side, head propped on his hand.

“Morning, Mrs. Stark.”

You roll over and smile. “Hey, husband.”

“You want coffee, or do we open gifts first?”

You blink. “You want to open presents before caffeine?”

Tony shrugs. “Some of them are suspiciously shaped. I have questions.”

You end up dragging a giant pile of gifts into the living room and dumping them on the floor. It’s like Christmas, except the tags say things like “To the newlyweds” and “Open in private, for legal reasons.”

The first few are sweet. A framed painting of your wedding venue, pre-flood, from Bruce. A handmade quilt from one of your old college friends. A gorgeous bottle of rare wine from Happy with a note that says “Don’t drink this unless it’s been a really long day.”

Then it gets... less sweet.

From Thor: A polished Asgardian fertility idol. It’s very detailed. You both stare at it for a while.

Tony nods. “So we’re having a conversation with HR later.”

From Natasha: A small black box. Inside, several tasteful but unmistakable... accessories. She’s labeled each with helpful instructions. One is labeled “for stress relief.”

You laugh so hard you fall over. Tony takes one look and says, “I have questions, but also, respect.”

From Steve: A thick book titled Marriage: A Field Manual. Inside, he’s made notes in the margins. Actual notes. With diagrams.

Tony flips through it. “Did he annotate a marriage guide?”

You lean over. “Is this a strategy section?”

“Oh my god, he included tactical retreat advice.”

From Bruce: A gift certificate for couple’s therapy. You blink at it. Then open the card. Prevention is better than reaction, he wrote. Also, it comes with a free massage session.

Tony nods. “Okay, not mad.”

The best one might be from Happy. It’s a plain envelope. Inside is a photo of Tony, asleep at his workbench, drooling on a half-built gadget. The caption reads You’ve come a long way, kid.

Tony goes quiet after that. Just holds the picture and smiles.

Later, you find a small box hidden behind the others. There’s no name, just a tiny tag that says for when you remember why you did this.

Inside is a tiny hourglass. The sand flows so slowly it takes a full hour to drop. There’s no note. But you don’t need one.

Tony wraps an arm around you, holding you close on the floor.

“You know,” he says, “for all my griping... this was kind of perfect.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. “Because you married me?”

“Exactly. And because Thor didn’t accidentally blow something up.”

“Yet.”

He kisses your forehead. “I like being your husband.”

“You’re good at it so far.”

“I plan to get even better.”

You close your eyes, content and warm and more loved than you ever thought possible.

And as the sunlight pours through the windows, filling the room with soft golden light, you realize this is only the beginning.

And it's already everything.

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ladykailitha · 7 months ago

Text

Icarus Part 19

Hey guys! See? I can be consistent some of the time and I promise this one will be out once a week until it's done.

In this one we get the fallout from the last chapter, Vickie takes charge, and Steve and Eddie talk about the cracks appearing in their bands.

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

And of course the incident went viral, because there had been someone filming a bachelor party and caught the exchange in the background.

Fans rallied around the band especially when the two dudes could be heard saying the band was making shit up.

And despite Vickie keeping a deft hand on the situation, charges had to be filed. She called the band into the bus, having flown out the night before.

“Right,” she said, clasping her hands and leaning her elbows on her knees. “This was a scary incident and I was able to steer it in the right direction. But if you had told me right after it happened I could have gotten ahead of it.”

The members of the band just looked at her in shock.

“It’s just a problem we’ve always had,” Spence said. “It happens so often it’s just a part of being The Fallen, you know?”

Vickie cocked her head to the side. “You do understand that you’ve come normalize to assault, right?”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “We knew it was bad. Of course we did. But we thought it came with the price of fame.”

“Famous people have to put up with a lot of bullshit,” she said shaking her head, “but assault is not one of them. They’re people too, they aren’t objects to be used and consumed by their audience and then spat out.”

They all shifted in their seats uncomfortably and avoided looking her in the eye.

“I think we all learned from this experience,” Robin said. “We learned the new hoods work, we learned to tell Vickie when something goes down, no matter how small we think it is or if we think it was handled. Because that’s why I didn’t say anything. Hopper had the guy delete it from his phone so I thought that was the end of the matter, only for it to appear online anyway.”

“And I learned,” Vickie finished, “that as unique as you guys are, you still experience the common problems most famous people have.”

They talked a little bit longer and everyone came away from the meeting feeling better about the incident going viral.

It did have the unfortunate side effect of Eddie being aggressively protective whenever the two bands would go out. Which would be fine, if it was just ‘Abbadon’ he was fiercely protective of, Steve being his boyfriend and all.

But nope.

Because Eddie didn’t want questions about why he was only protecting Abbadon, he went full mama bear. Barking at some chick that got too close to Azrael’s hood when she was flirting with him. Slapping away some guy’s hand that looked like it was going for Astraeus’s mask. He even got between a guy with a phone and Asmodeus. Who looked like the one guy in the band you wouldn’t want to fuck with.

That was when Steve decided to talk to Eddie about. Because they both had security and no one had gotten past Hopper since that first time.

“Hey, baby,” Steve said softly, slipping into the hotel room.

Eddie jumped and almost fell off the bed. “Stevie! Are you supposed to be here?” He scrambled to get back on the bed.

Steve joined him on the bed and slid as close to him as possible. “If anyone asks, I’ll just say you thought you were having a medical emergency but it was a false alarm.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I think that would cause a bigger stir than me sleeping with an EMT, sweetheart.”

Steve laughed and crawled up onto his lap to kiss him senseless. Eddie let Steve slowly lower him on the pillows as they made out.

“How much time have you got before you’re missed?” Eddie breathed, grinding their bodies together. “I really need you.”

Steve knew they would be taking a huge fucking risk, but he needed his boyfriend, too. He needed be filled up and worshiped. “A while,” he panted into Eddie’s mouth. “I want you to fuck me, please?”

Eddie groaned because that sounded like heaven to him. “Anything for you.”

Steve’s shirt was off and Eddie’s hands instantly came up to his belt to start unbuckling it. Steve sighed at the release of pressure against his zipper as Eddie pulled it down.

“Look at you, honey,” he panted, “you aching for me?”

Steve nodded, pressing his lips together to stop the moan from escaping his lips. Then he stood up and scrambled to get out of his clothes and Eddie took the opportunity to do the same. Soon they were lying together with Steve on top, kissing.

The sex was slow and tender and everything Steve needed in that moment and he felt Eddie did too. Once everything had been cleaned up and they were lying next to each other did Steve speak up.

“I think we have a couple of things to talk about,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s neck. “About Brian and Gareth, and you biting that fan’s head off tonight.”

Eddie sighed and held Steve closer. “I’m sorry about tonight. It’s just after that incident with the assholes and Astraeus, I guess my protective instincts that drove me to pick up lost sheep in high school went into overdrive.”

Steve nuzzled Eddie’s neck. “Which I do get, but let me tell you of the four of us, in character Asmodeus really is the last one you need to defend. He uses his mask as a way to be braver then he is normally and will absolutely knock a guy out and then freak out about it later.”

Eddie chuckled. “I already have a good idea of who’s who, but thank you for cinching for me that Simon is Asmodeus.”

Steve huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, that one was a gimme, I’ll admit. But who do you think are the other two. You have a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right.”

He thought for a moment, really trying to put all the clues together. “Spence is Azrael and Shane is Astraeus. For the sheer fact that they make the least amount of sense and thus throw people off.”

“Right in one,” Steve confirmed with a kiss. “And yes, that’s why. Our personas are deliberately not like who we are in real life. I play more to my feminine side more as Abbadon because I’m your stereotypical boy next door.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “You’re way more than that, sweetheart. But I get what you mean.”

Steve sat up and pulled his knees up to drape his arms around them. “Did you want to talk about what happened with Brian and Gareth about the tour. I kept meaning to bring it up because there would be odd little moments where the tension would suddenly ramp up between you guys and it would be days before it went away. It seems like it’s only gotten worse since we’ve gone on tour.”

Eddie sat up too, and moved away from Steve, crossing his arms sullenly. Steve let him. He knew this was a prickly subject and if Eddie didn’t want to talk he wasn’t going to make him. So he waited him out.

Sure enough a few minutes later, Eddie let out a put upon sigh. “Yeah, okay. It’s gotten so bad Chrissy is talking to the label about what would happen if we broke up on this tour.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve breathed. “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and nodded.

“I remember Brian saying he thought not letting Gareth on this tour was wrong,” Steve said, “but that everyone including Gareth disagreed.”

“He made a promise,” Eddie said softly, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face between his knees. “No drinking, in therapy, and having actual fucking progress on both the alcohol dependence and the abandonment issues and he’d get to tour with you guys.”

Steve raised a eyebrow. Eddie had said things like this before. That even though Gareth wasn’t a fan of Steve he had posters of Abbadon in his house and especially his studio. As he hadn’t seen it, he had to take Eddie’s word for it.

“And then he went on that bender when no one could find him...” he murmured, remembering that night.

“Yeah,” Eddie let out a shuddering breath, “thank god both Dustin and Gareth are the same flavor of nerd.”

Steve cracked a small smile.

“So he shouldn’t have been able to come,” he reasoned.

“Yeah.”

Eddie gripped his hair as he continued. “It’s in our contract. Everything has to be agreed on by all four members otherwise it doesn’t happen. We’ve lost out on some major opportunities because one of us held out. Did you know that the latest Batman movie wanted to use ‘Jaded Hearts’ for their soundtrack?”

‘Jaded Hearts’ was about a bad break up Jeff had. He thought things were going well, even bought a ring talked to her dad about proposing. And then suddenly she turned around and said things weren’t working out between them and just moved out of state. No rhyme or reason to it, just left.

“I didn’t,” Steve admitted.

“Yeah...” Eddie’s voice cracked on the bitterness of it. “Gareth didn’t want to because he thought it would cheapen its meanihng. While Jeff, the guy that wrote the damn thing was freaking out that they wanted his song in a movie about his favorite super hero.” He grimaced. “Jeff’s still salty about that one.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised. Yeah, he would be too.

“So what was Brian’s reasoning for waiting until Gareth was out of rehab?”

Eddie let go of his hair and let his feet slide off the edge of the couch they were on. “Addiction is a mental illness and we wouldn’t punish any of us for needing physical therapy if we broke a limb or whatever.”

Steve let his eyelids flutter shut. He felt that. He did. Both Simon and he had parents that were alcoholics. Hell, his own mother did cocaine. Addiction was a disease, but not one that should be catered to like that. He opened his eyes and saw that Eddie was curling in on himself slowly but surely.

He grabbed Eddie by the wrist and pulled him into his arms.

“What’s going on with Gareth scares me,” Eddie murmured as he soaked up his boyfriend’s comfort.

Steve let out a deep breath and said gingerly, “I think Shane is a sex addict.”

Because while Shane hadn’t been late since their little intervention, he just got better at hiding his hookups. He figured he was the only one who knew because Hopper and Robin hadn’t said anything about it.

Eddie looked up at Steve, his big brown eyes wide in confusion. “I thought he was getting better at showing up on time.”

“Oh he shows up on time,” Steve muttered darkly. “But sometimes he shows up smelling of cheap cologne and expensive wine, like he hasn’t been to bed yet. And like with you and Gareth, what’s going on with Shane terrifies me, too.”

Eddie snuggled in closer. “Fame is a cruel mistress and she is giving our friends the beating of their lives.”

“I think after this both bands should take some time off,” Steve murmured, “and just be people for a minute or three. Three records in three years is insane for even the most seasoned bands and I think Corroded Coffin could really benefit not being in each others’ pockets for a bit.”

Eddie sighed and really thought about it. He nodded. Even if the other members said no, Eddie was willing to just walk away from it all. Go solo maybe. Because after twelve years of nonstop running he was starting to fall apart.

The only thing that was keeping him sane right now was the fact Steve was by his side and he understood what he was going through.

“Yeah, baby,” he said, “let’s do that. Maybe you and me will travel the world a bit, really see it, instead of a blur through the windows of a tour bus.”

Fuck did that sound perfect. No band, no obligations, just him and Eddie and an adventure of a lifetime.

“Sure thing, rockstar,” he whispered. “Let’s do that. Plan a trip of Europe or whatever and just see the sights for a change. And not just the sites that would be good publicity either. The wacky museums, the weird curio shops, five hundred year old bars.”

Eddie sat up and looked him in the eye. “Wait, what? You’d really be interested in doing that? I mean, I’d love that. But none the guys like that shit. Not like I do and you’d want to do that kind of stuff with me?”

“Of course I would,” Steve said and then kissed him deeply. “I love that kind of shit too. And yeah maybe I didn’t always, but Robin has been a very good influence on me.”

Eddie laughed. It was so free and happy, Steve wanted to bottle it up and keep it for shit days.

“Maybe we should bring her with us,” he said with a grin. “That way people will be less suspicious about you and me going on a trip and reading too much into it.”

Steve let out a sigh, his mood a little dampened by the fact this couldn’t just be a romantic getaway. But then again, he really didn’t want to leave Robin home for that long, either. He kissed Eddie.

“Yeah, Eds,” he said sweetly. “Let’s do that. She’ll love it.”

Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar au #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson

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apomaro-mellow · 1 year ago

Text

I wanted to write church fucking again but it turned more into church love-making

Steve was long past caring if anyone heard them. The only thing on his mind was taking Eddie deeper and deeper. This place was built with Eddie's money anyway. And it wasn't really a building to practice any religion known to man. As Eddie had put it, the first and only thing being worshipped here was them and their love.

And to Steve there was honestly nothing more sacred.

-------------------

"Do we really need to do the separation thing?", Eddie asked. He didn't whine. He definitely wasn't whining as Steve packed his bag.

"We're only doing like 5 traditional things for our wedding and this is one of them", Steve said, zipping up a duffel bag.

He gave Eddie a kiss on the lips, one that was too short considering he wouldn't even be seeing him for another twenty-four hours, let alone kiss him again. He chased after Steve's lips only to have his beloved pull back.

"You're going to make me late. Robin's already honked once", Steve said.

"Mmm, she can come up and rip you from my arms if she wants you so bad", Eddie said, pulling Steve into his hold and falling back against the bed.

"You know she will. And she'll have the spray bottle and everything", Steve warned, but doing nothing to stop Eddie from groping his behind.

Steve was able to break away before Robin got pushed to that point and leave to stay at her place until the wedding. Eddie let out a sigh that was equal parts dreamy and forlorn. He did his best to keep his mind off of not being around Steve and his friends had the ultimate bachelor party planned. But he couldn't help but think at times how much nicer it would be with his Stevie there.

"Technically we're both bachelors, so we could've had the same party", Eddie reasoned.

The others wouldn't hear it and kept him sufficiently busy until they all passed out around 3 am. At 5 am, Eddie woke up walked over to the church. He took out his key and unlocked the door. Inside was completely empty. But Eddie had saw to the renovations himself to make sure it was up to par.

He sat in the first pew and let out a sigh. In just a few hours, he and Steve would be standing in front of this altar, vowing themselves to each other. Eddie would have done it anywhere, the courthouse, a friend's backyard, their sacred bedroom. But Steve's upbringing wouldn't allow him anything less than a church. Thankfully, Eddie had enough 'fuck-you' money to find an abandoned one and have it built back up just for the two of them. And perhaps any other queer that wanted an unofficial ceremony.

Eddie himself rarely looked to Jesus for answers and was just about to ask what he was even doing here when the doors opened again. And who should walk through it but the answers to any question he ever had.

"Eddie? What are you doing here?"

"Awaiting salvation. And here you are", Eddie smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"Searching for...well, for you, I guess", Steve said as he walked down the aisle and took a seat in the same pew as Eddie. But at a distance for polite friends and not two men who were getting married in a few hours and already knew each others bodies.

"Why are you all the way over there?", Eddie smirked. "You think we need a chaperone or something."

"I came to get a moment of peace and quiet before the storm today is going to be", Steve said. "And you are anything but peaceful and quiet."

"You just said you were searching for me?"

"I meant that sometimes searching for one thing can bring you another." Steve smiled as he shook his head a little, a memory coming back to him. "My mom always said 'when you ask God for patience, he doesn't give you patience. He gives you a situation where you need to be patient'."

"You sure your mom wasn't praying to a genie? Or a monkey's paw?"

"I'm just saying that I came to a church for peace and instead, I see my fiance."

Eddie scooted closer to Steve. "Sounds to me like His Mighty Heavenliness is throwing down a challenge. Can you be quiet around me Steve?"

Steve knew he couldn't. And Eddie knew he couldn't. Nor would his fiance's big ego even allow Steve to even attempt to be quiet. Eddie wouldn't stop until this place was filled with his echoes. But he held steady.

"There's not even a comfortable place to do it", he said.

To which, Eddie jumped up and went over to the altar, normally it would have a cloth draped over it, but when Eddie pressed down, there was a bit of give, like it was cushioned. Steve didn't even have the presence of mind to ask why because Eddie was already palming himself through his pants, beckoning Steve over with a finger.

Let it be known that marriage didn't stop Steve from being a slut. It was just reserved for his groom-to-be.

So he loved on Eddie and let Eddie love on him, in an embrace that felt more rapturous than any praise he'd given in a church. This was what ecstasy was. Steve knew deep in his soul that he was born for this, to share this with Eddie.

Hours later, dressed to the nines and promising themselves to each other in front of an audience, Steve couldn't stop thinking about his body draped over the altar. Eddie had said more than once that he worshipped Steve's body but the same was true for him. When Eddie slipped the ring onto his finger and kissed him, Steve felt like he was being smiled on by Heaven.

A man like this loving and promising eternity, how could be anything less than a blessing?

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #believe it or not #this started out as just smut like the last time #but then it turned sweet

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morganbritton132 · 2 years ago

Note

Can just picture Eddie posting videos from back in the 80’s and everyone going so wild thirsting for Steve that Eddie starts feeling some type of way even though that’s his husband lol

Eddie has never been insecure about his relationship.

Don’t get him wrong though.

It is annoying when you’re closeted in your hometown and have to watch girl after girl shoot their shot with your boyfriend. It is irritating when you take your boyfriend to his first gay club and every five minutes someone tries to interrupt you dancing with him to try to grind on your boyfriend. It is borderline rude when you’re married and on a date, and your waiter tries to slip your husband her phone number.

Eddie gets it – Steve is too hot for his own good – but he isn’t insecure.

He bagged Hawkins’ most eligible bachelor right after the worst week of his entire goddamn existence. Steve had a front row seat to a lot of his lowest of lows and still made out with him. Eddie had been happy to just fool around with his old high school crush but then Steve had to go pull the rug out front under him and get disowned for telling his parents that he was in love with him.

So, yeah.

There are always people thirsting after Steve but Steve Harrington wears his love so completely and openly in every ounce of his being that Eddie has never had any doubt who it’s directed towards. He is not insecure.

However.

Some of these people need to calm the fuck down.

Eddie posts a clip of Steve and Dustin bickering at each other from an old home video that he must’ve borrowed from Jonathan and forgot to give back. It from before Eddie’s time with the party.

The greater context of the video is that someone was throwing a going away party for Dustin before he left for summer camp, but it’s very clear that Steve did not know this when he walks into the house. He very clearly showed up post-workout.

In the clip, Steve is complaining about Dustin not telling him about the party and Dustin is telling him that he did tell him (“That’s not true. I told you to come here at six and bring me my flashlight. What else would I have meant?”). Eddie captioned it something like, “Some things never change.”

It’s a pretty innocuous video about two brothers giving each other a hard time but then if you read the comments, you will feel the need to go to church and repent. All the comments are about Steve’s spandex-y workout shorts. All the stitches are people trying to enhance screenshots of the video to see the outline of Steve’s dick, and really it’s – “Jesus H. Christ.”

Eddie ends up deleting the video because, “He’s seventeen in it, sickos.”

#most of the time someone will say something particularly thirsty about Steve and Eddie will be like: mood #someone in the comments of a live stream said they wanted to get dicked down by Steve and Eddie’s like ‘me too’ and ends the stream #eddie munson tiktok saga #eddie munson #steve harrington

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virginburial · 2 months ago

Text

Paradiso Chapter One: DECAMERON

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Warning: not a ton of smut, just tension! steve being a smug asshole n all. there's slight mentions of self unalivings that did not actually take place within the reality of this story. there's also a lot of swearing and adult topics being shared. I haven't written y/n fics in a hot second i felt so dumb writing this but i'll never know if it sticks or not unless i try!

word count: 4.5k

song: Clover Paradise by La Femme

masterlist for fic ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Within the rolling hills of Northridge, hidden behind ivory gates and golf courses, and underneath the dimmed stars that faded with the city lights; You lay on shingles, music blasting from under you and shifting your body with each thump of the bass. The sound of people chattering overwhelmed you, so you went out for a smoke on the roof, which felt like an everyday occurrence. Today was different, everything about this solar return felt different. Or at least, that’s what your boss on Eternal would tell you; each season of Eternal was one solar return, and just like the sun, you always came back.

Eternal was just the Bachelor. Eternal was just the Real World. Eternal was cheap slapstick trashy television with no real desire to point at something and say “hey, I’ll say something no one else has, ever.” It also has two Emmys, all of them accredited to the showrunner, your boss, and nothing to you. You could produce circles around narcissistic contestants and hedonistic darlings that sleep around, hell, even one of your coworkers got caught for sleeping with one of the contestants. He got fired.

And then his roommate followed suit.

And then you.

Because you were bored. Eternal bored you.

There was nothing Eternal could’ve done to make you stay anyways; no amount of baby daddy’s and cheating reveals made you want to stick around anymore. So at the wrapped party, instead of saying your goodbyes, you go to the roof to smoke. Classic y/n.

“Hey! Dumbass!” you hear a voice from below, eyes nearly rolling from the sound of Steve’s voice. You were surprised that he was even allowed back into the Eternal mansion; especially with all the contestants still hanging around. You sit up and peer over the lining of the roof, your eyes meeting with Steve’s leather brown eyes, his smile getting softer and softer as he waved to you.

You scoff. “Back for your sloppy seconds?”

“How did you know?” Steve projected back, smirking. Your eyes fall on Jonathan, his roommate and the PA for Eternal, who also decided to walk off set earlier before the engagement ceremony. The truth was, you knew Steve and Jonathan way before working on Eternal; in fact, you all moved out of Hawkins and to LA together just to work on this show right after graduation. Five years of working on Eternal went down the drain because Steve can’t keep his dick in his pants. “Come down here!” Steve beamed. “I have a surprise.”

“Is it you sleeping with another contestant?” you bark back.

“God I wish.” Steve hummed, earning a slap from Johnathan. Steve flinched and glanced back at you, hoping that a surprise was enough to get you down. “Cmon, y/n. Please? We heard about what happened.” Steve expressed. That was enough to pique your interest, considering how messy production gossip was. Everyone on the set of Eternal knew that you and Steve were a package deal; one of the best producers in reality tv, if they gave awards out for it, you’d have just as many awards as Madonna. It was easy to toy around with other people’s emotions for the sake of good TV. Steve knew that pretty well, in fact, he was going to win the bet that you and the other producers always engage in every season. That was, until he got fired, and all his contestants went to another producer, who ended up winning.

You climb down the roof, your hands grappling with the ledge of the shingles and slowly climbing down and jumping just a few feet to the balcony; though, you felt a sharp sting in your ankles. Your face, cascaded with the outside lights, stared annoyingly at Steve and almost ignored Johnathan entirely. You saunter around the empty part of the balcony, seeing the party just yards away from you. “What have they been saying?”

“Oh nothing.” Steve shrugged. “Just that you quit because Fiona was busting your balls, and since we’re best friends, and I got fired, you left.” pretty straightforward, and true. You had just about enough of the showrunner’s bullshit and Steve was your rock. “But they’re also saying you slept with the light director-” Steve chimed.

You gagged. “Roddy? Yeah-fucking-right.” you spat. “So what are you doing here? It’s not like you’re coming here to collect your prize for the bet.” You hummed.

The bet was simple; you have a group of contestants, each one of them wanting to end up with this season's darling, whoever’s girl actually wins the darling's heart, wins the bet. Last year, you won, and the year before, Steve won. Steve shook his head. “Fuck the bet, I have something better for us to gamble on.” Then he pats Jonathan's back. Poor jonathan. He was never that into the show and never rose to the ranks you and Steve did. So when Steve got fired, he didn’t mind leaving either.

Where Steve was a bit brash, and you were…well, you. Jonathan always stayed Johnathan. Quiet, shy, but always on the verge of something; just nobody could guess what. Your eyes darted to Jonathan, who gulped nervously. “y/n…has anyone ever told you that you’re really intimidating?” Jonathan mumbled.

“Seriously, Harrington?” you glanced back at Steve.

Steve gets frustrated, reaching into Johnathan’s jacket and pulling out a thick stack of papers; bound together by staples and twine. He tosses it over to you, and having you catch it without it hitting your face. It took a second for you to realize that this was a script. How did Steve get his hands on one of these? He couldn’t have written it, motherfucker can barely spell restaurant. Your fingers grazed over the title page, and flipped through its sturdy pages, your eyes followed each word as your stomach fluttered with opportunity. The simple act of skimming through the script made you forget about the day you were having, but you had to remain calm about it, because the truth was that you had no idea what this was or what it could be about. All you could remember after flipping the pages back to the title page were the names; Imogen, Mac, Jesse. Imogen, Mac, Jesse. Imogen, Mac, Jesse.

You stared back up at the boys, who were looking at you with eager eyes. Almost hoping you’d catch on to the plot or anything regarding the project they wanted to unload onto you; or include you in. The jury was still out on their motivations. “What’s this?” you questioned.

“A script.” Steve hummed.

“No shit, but what is it, really?”

Steve sighs. “Okay…it's a movie-I know what you’re going to say, we have no experience making films, but have you ever considered that maybe us getting fired could lead to us doing other things out here?” Steve chirped. “Cus if anything’s for certain, I’m not moving back to Hawkins.” he expressed. You listen, of course you did, if your best friend was eager about something then it must be important. You knew he didn’t want to move back to work for his dad’s company, anything but that.

The idea of making a movie intrigued you, because that’s why you came out here, you shot for television because it was easier, but really? Why come to Los Angeles if it wasn’t for the art of filmmaking? It’s what you wanted, even if you were used to producing trash television. You admired Steve’s ambition, always have, so you crossed your arms and expected more out of him besides some low level explanation of a pipe dream. “Okay, what’s the movie about?”

Steve bit his lip. “It’s these two porn producers that let an actor stay with them-”

You scoffed, leading into a laugh. “Alright, so you wanna film a porno.”

“No, no. Listen to me. It’s not a porno…not exactly.” you tilt your head to the side. “Imogen and Jesse are married, and they produce pornos together, and their marriage sucks. They’re always fighting about when they should have a kid or something. Jesse is filming something avant garde and meets Mac, who needs a place to stay. Mac moves in. Chaos ensues. Next thing you know; Imogen is fucking Mac and Mac is fucking Jesse and Jesse is fucking Imogen but its all wrapped up into a pretty bow, until it isn't. Someone gets hurt.” Steve nonchalantly explains. “Someone always gets hurt. One person can’t express love the way they want and fall deeper in love with someone else, another realizes they shouldn’t be with someone, someone's way in over their head.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay…okay.” you stop him from continuing. “So Eyes Wide Shut meets Cruel Intentions-” “-no, it’s its own thing!” Steve explains. “It’s the obscure movie that you find close to the adult section at Blockbuster; but is it really there? If it’s next to the horror section?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “It’s a movie with shots that pay off in the end and filmed on a vintage film camera. It’s the movie that, if enough eyes are on it, could get awards-”

“-Great, I’m glad you learned what Oscar bait is.” you laughed softly. “All I’m hearing is porn porn porn sex sex sex. What’s the point of this movie?” you challenged. “Is it just what we do at Eternal?” you questioned. “Because I don’t see the point if it’s just reality tv on the big screen.” a sigh left you. “And between the three of us, I don’t see the point of even being in LA anymore. I mean, rent is through the roof. Fuckin-I had no job lined up after Eternal and with all of this fucking bullshit flying around about me quitting over you is gonna get me blacklisted off some sets. I’m ready to hang it up.”

“No.” Jonathan finally spoke up.

Your eyes flew to him, almost appalled he even spoke in the first place. “No?”

“No.” he repeated, stepping forward between you and Steve. “Maybe this movie isn’t the one that wins us some big award. Maybe it’ll be your average run of the mill indie flick with a small cult following. But it's the kind of movie you watch on a date, and the entire time you’re watching it, you hope your date sticks their hands down your pants. It makes your skin hot. It’s the kind of movie where the woman takes the lead. It’s buying lingerie for no one but yourself. It’s the feeling you get when you’re alone at the bar, and some handsome stranger buys you a drink and you look at him and you hope it goes somewhere. It’s hiking up to the Hollywood sign at night with a case of beer and a quilt with a girl you like. It’s carnal, it’s liberating, It’s taboo. It’s…it’s fucking french!”

“Yeah! Fuck it, it’s French.” Steve chimes in as Jonathan continues. “Picture a California girl. Sun-Glossed, bikini-clad, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind that cuts down from the rocks along the Malibu coast. She turns, from the towel on which she kneels, salt and sand still clinging to her skin, and looks over her shoulder at you. Her gleaming eyes say: Welcome to paradise. They say we’re free here. It’s undoubtedly, shamelessly, beautifully Los Angeles. Straight out of the Decameron! An erotic thriller between a desperate porn producer and his bored housewife, and how their life gets flipped upside down by some vagrant from Van Nuys who fucks! He fucks them all but who really wears the pants? Who’s in control? Don’t you want to evoke that feeling without putting real people at risk for once?” Jonathan vocalizes. “Don’t you want to be free?”

You stop at your tracks, your tongue going dry at the idea of it; fair, sexy, nasty. Maybe not everything needs to be so gray, maybe things can be black and white. Your heart beats out of your chest from Jonathan’s vigorous explanation. Steve’s eyes fall to your lips, his eyes scanning your expression for your next move; you weren’t sure you had one. He knew that. Steve tugs at his bottom lip. “What’s your craziest fantasy, y/n?”

Your what?

Your stomach rumbles with anxiety, you hoped that question had a point, and you hoped that whatever that point was, it’d pay off. Yet, the mere idea of Steve Harrington knowing what made you tick made you nervous. Your skin flushed a deep crimson as your mouth slowly opened to speak, but nothing came out. A smirk appeared on Steve’s face. “Cmon, first thing that comes to your mind.” he presses slightly.

“I…I’m dressed up as whatever someone wants me to be.” you keep it short, and sweet.

“I knew you like being told what to do.” Steve snickers, he turns to Jonathan. “Add that to the script.”

You roll your eyes and huff, your eyes shifting over to Jonathan. “Who wrote it?”

“Nancy.”

You scoff, then find yourself laughing a little louder than expected; a little longer than expected, and seeing Johnathan’s face fall from your revelation made it all the better. “Nancy? Your girlfriend, Nancy? The one that was a huge prude in high school and followed you here just to end up teaching at some school? That Nancy?” your arms fold themselves in front of you. “What does she know about sex?” well, you haven't had sex in over a year, too worried about your job. Maybe she does know a thing or two more than you.

Steve shakes his head. “Hey, believe it or not, it’s actually pretty good. Give the priss a chance. Give Jonathan a chance. Hell, give me a chance, y/n-” “-and what exactly do you want me to do if we decide to move forward with it? Huh?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Steve leans against the stone railing of the balcony. “You and I are gonna produce it, I’ll even give you the executive producer title if it makes you jump on board. Nancy wrote it, and Jonathan wants to direct, film, and edit it.” oh how confident he is that you’ll say yes, even with the big, fancy title of executive producer. “Also, Robin from the sound department is willing to run sound and lights as long as word doesn’t get to Fiona that she’s helping us out with our film during Eternal’s off season. All we need are actors. Some coquette-ish bombshell to play Imogen, and two guys who are down to do anything to play Mac and Jesse. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Steve said with a relaxed tone. “Besides, you can produce circles around people, remember last season of Eternal? Where you had to literally talk someone down from a ledge? Now here I am getting you off the roof.”

“I just went up there to get away from the party and smoke.” you jabbed.

“So you go on top of it? Noted.” Steve jeers. “Like I said, it shouldn't be too hard.”

Shouldn’t be too hard? God she hated how confident he could be at times. “Why do you want to make this movie?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “I want an Oscar.” his head turned to the side, looking out to the city behind him, yet the answer did not satisfy you. You knew it was all jokes. Steve Harrington and you were not going to win an Oscar over a script Nancy Wheeler wrote, directed by Jonathan Byers. “No.” you hummed. “Look me in my eyes. Why do you want to make this movie?” we could be making anything else; maybe even a show to compete with Eternal. But no, he wants to make a movie about Nancy’s wet dreams.

Steve’s eyes met yours. “I…don’t want to pay rent anymore.” he answered honestly. You could tell in his tone that he was telling the truth. He was desperate to not go back to Hawkins, and deep down, you knew why. So, reluctantly, you looked down at the script in your hands, which had to be around a hundred or so pages; more than that rather than less, and sighed. “Let me read it, and I’ll get back to you.”

Steve clapped his hands once and smiled. “See? Read it tonight. Pour yourself some wine and read it, you won’t regret it. y/n.”

Yeah yeah yeah, sure.

“What’s it called? The film?”

And Steve flashes the same fucking smirk he’s been sporting his whole life. It melts you to your core, he’s too charming for his own good. It’s why Jonathan’s a good roommate for him; they balance each other out so well. Steve stares over at Jonathan as he motions him to tell you.

“Paradiso.”

Later that night, early into the morning, you drove home and parked on the side of the street, hoping some asshole won't side sweep your car this time. Your keys fall into a ceramic bowl as your eyes wander over to your roommate crashing out on the couch, mouth open and snoring loudly. You didn’t even bother to turn the tv off, which was conveniently on some episode of Seinfeld. Life kind of felt that way, like a fucked up sitcom. You hated that you couldn’t lounge on the couch with a glass of wine like Steve suggested. So you slightly stomped over to your room and closed the door behind you.

You kicked off your shoes, and didn’t bother to take off your jeans but took off your bra, because you had to pick a struggle. You tossed the script over to the bed, but your eyes couldn’t stop staring at it. It had to be something great if it got both Steve and Jonathan excited, especially since Steve renders the Fast and Furious movies as masterpieces, and Jonathan loves anything directed by David Lynch. Two sides of the same unbearable coin, you were always a fan of Coppola; Sofia, not Francis Ford.

You flicked on the light by your desk and grabbed the script, flipping to a random page as your eyes scanned the words. Where did Nancy learn how to write a screenplay? It’s not like her to know more about a script or screenwriting than you do. But maybe that’s where you were mistaken, because once your eyes hit the dialogue, you knew you had a hit.

You knew you had a hit.

And everything Steve was saying was starting to make sense. Not total sense, but just enough for you to be grabbing your blackberry and giving him a quick call. It had to be one am, but you knew Steve was still awake, it’s not like him to be asleep so early. Your fingers hit the number pads and your thumb hovered over the call button, and after a few short rings, Steve’s cherry laced voice could be heard on the other line; clearly in his car.

“Hey.”

“Hey, what the fuck.”

“Hey what the fuck what?” he chuckled.

You flipped a few pages, knowing that Steve could hear you on the other line as you bit your lip and started reading. “Imogen: I hate that you can do this to me so easily, it’s almost like you got a kill switch for me.”

“Go on?”

“Mac: you make it too easy, Gene. all I do is flatter you. You don’t love me anymore than you love yourself. So instead of hating me, why don’t you show me how much you love yourself.” then you shut the script. “And then, she masterbates? And drags his hand over and he does nothing until she begs?!”

“Genius, right?”

“Corny! It’s corny!”

“So corny it’s genius.”

“Look I’m not saying it’s bad, this could very much turn into something. But I’ll help Nancy write better dialogue or something ‘cus this-?”

“-This what? This isn’t sexy enough for you?”

“Wouldn’t it be hotter if he forced her?”

“Consensually? Yeah, but actually, that wouldn’t make it hotter at all; because then the dialogue of her loving herself wouldn’t make sense. It’s a whole arc for her. It’s her having control over when and how she cums and instead of taking that control, she eagerly gives it to him. That’s the thing. That’s the entire thing.”

“Yeah but does that make anyone’s panties wet?”

“Maybe not all at once…why?”

“Because mine aren’t. Look, I flipped to a random page and-”

“-and that’s where you messed up-”

“-would you stop interrupting me?” you snapped.

“All I’m saying is, Paradiso is not a movie where you cum over and over and over again. It’s quality over quantity. What’s more enjoyable? One giant orgasm or 5 tiny ones?”

“Would it be selfish of me to say five tiny ones?”

“Well now you’re just being bratty.”

“Steve, I think we should do this movie. But not because I believe in it, but because I need money.”

“You and everyone else y/n.” Steve scoffed. “You don’t have to believe in it. But please just help me and Jonathan out? Especially with what happened with-”

“-Mhm?”

“...nothing.”

“What happened with who?”

“Me and one of the contestants.”

“Mhm…see, I already know you’re not ashamed of that because this isn’t even your first time fucking someone from Eternal. So spill.”

“...Nancy and Jonathan got into a huge fight a couple of weeks ago, Jonathan said he’d do anything to make it up to her, she gave him this script, and yeah.”

“You don't even believe in this either, Steve!”

“Fake it till you make it.”

“We could make anything else, literally anything else! I could do Fiona’s job with my eyes closed! We could be showrunners, pitch a few ideas to the network and get our own slice of the Eternal pie. Instead we’re doing softcore porn-”

“Well, in case you forgot, sex sells! It’s why Eternal is such a gold mine!” Steve barks. “You think people only tune in for the faux pa drama you and I create amongst the contestants and the darlings? No! They watch because some hunky rich bastard is gonna be in a speedo for an episode for two while 20 ladies in bikinis all flaunt to him like a pack of vultures. That’s why it does well! And we know how to curate a social orgy because of Eternal, I kind of see this as a downgrade if anything.”

“...you’re really desperate to not go back home.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it didn’t mean something.”

“...okay, okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

“I’ll settle for executive producer.”

“You’ll...settle?”

“Take it or leave it, Steve.”

“Okay! Okay, this is good.” you could hear him smiling through the phone, almost radiating back to you. “Thanks y/n. I just knew we make a good team because of Eternal. There’s so much we can do with this now that we have more creative freedom, y’know?”

You knew. “Yeah…yeah. We need to hold auditions. Because the last thing I want is to see Nancy and Jonathan try their hands at being Imogen and Jesse.” you gag slightly.

“Please, Jonathan is too camera shy. Remember when he was almost caught on camera last season of Eternal? The season with-”

“-That guy who owned his own vineyard? And kept trying to sell wine on the show? Yeah, Jonathan jumped in the pool to avoid getting in the frame. Even though he totally could, we weren't even filming.” you laugh to yourself. Then you sigh. “...I'm gonna miss doing the show.”

Steve stays quiet for a moment, then responds. “At least you left knowing that ratings are gonna plummet next season ‘cus you won’t be around. It’ll all be Fiona's fault.”

“Seriously? Fuck her, I caught her with a gentleman caller last season and it was Vineyard guy! She was fucking last season’s darling! And she wants to fire you for being with a girl who got voted off anyways?”

“I’m over it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’ll get in contact with robin about casting, maybe some disgruntled contestant wants to join us. She won’t be legally obligated to stay loyal to Eternal if she gets voted off of anything.”

“Robin or a contestant?”

“Does it matter? Robin hates working there too. Though, I totally mean a contestant.”

“Mhm…okay. Just don’t cast the girl you were hooking up with. It’s a conflict of interest. We’ll find our cast. But maybe not tonight.”

“Fair…hey! Before you hang up, I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“The question I asked you, about your biggest fantasy…” Steve drifts off slightly. “Were you telling the truth?” he asked.

“Yes and no. would never give that precious info away to Jonathan Byers.”

“Cmon, now you have to tell me.”

“Mhm…why would I do that?”

“For the cause.”

“What cause? The so-called erotic thriller we’re filming?”

“No, the reality tv show.” Steve sarcastically hummed. “Yes, the movie.”

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.”

Steve hesitates. “I…”

“Exactly, that’s what I thought-”

“-No no! I’ll tell you.” he sighs. “I…I’ve always wanted to wrap a belt around a girl's thighs, like really tight, kinda just hog-tie her, you know? Then spank her until she’s begging me to fuck her, but I’m a little conniving bastard so I don’t right away. Just rub and finger her until she’s a drooling, mumbling mess. Then fuck her until she goes limp from cumming so much.”

Oh fuck. Your mouth gets dry. You weren’t expecting him to actually say anything, in fact, you were expecting him to joke around or even lie like you did; a white lie is still a lie. Instead, he decided to be transparent, which sent you over the edge both with the tension and how awkward it is to know about Steve Harrington’s fantasy. And how silly yours was in contrast.

“Earth to y/n.”

“Yeah yeah, that’s one hell of a thought process. You should add that to the script instead of whatever mine is-”

“-you’re embarrassed by yours?”

“Well I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to.” Steve hums.

“Fine, it’s…it’s dressing up as an angel and someone dressing up as a priest.”

The other line goes quiet.

You continue on anyway. “And he worships me but also…spanks me with a bible-”

“HOLY SHIT.” Steve starts cackling, between heavy breaths and laughter, you try to explain yourself, but you too found it silly. “Hey! Some of us think priests can be hot-” “-you’re lying! You have to be lying-i know just about half of Hawkins will hate you if they find out you have a priest kink!” Steve giggles.

“You’re one to talk, Dexter! Wanting to tie girls up ‘n shit-”

“-someone has a boatload of religious trauma.” he finally calms down, however, he continues to laugh slightly. “Is there something less disrespectful that you like?”

“...I can do a James Bond/James Bond Girl thing.”

“Okay, at least we’re getting somewhere.”

“Yeah, at least. I’m gonna head to bed. Wake me up when Robin’s figured out casting?”

“Sure, have a nice night, Angel-”

“-Oh shut the fuck-”

Call Ended!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

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