#ed’s pocket watch

[bylrndgm]

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

↳ 1.09 Act of Mercy

[theflyingkipper]

he’s got somewhere to be !!

[binch-i-might-be]

ALRIGHT. everyone fucking BEHOLD: ONE OF MY MOST PRICED POSSESSIONS

HANDMADE LEATHER ED ELRIC COAT!!!!!!!

[autumnallunaphotos]

𝗗𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝟯.𝗢𝗰𝘁.𝟭𝟭 ❤️

[ibd-5e]

[ozymoron]

god i want to rewatch gotham again but i really dont want to sit through all the scenes with jim i legit dont care about what hes got going on im here for nygmobblepot and my favourite little guys and thats it

[pucksandpower]

Worlds Apart

Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader

Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you

Warnings: Jos Verstappen

Based on a request by @butterflyexe

The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.

“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”

You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.

You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”

“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”

“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”

“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”

The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”

“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”

“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.

Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”

Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”

The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”

“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”

A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.

Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”

Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”

“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.

Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”

“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”

You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”

His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”

You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”

He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”

“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”

A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”

“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”

Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”

You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”

“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”

You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.

“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”

“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.

It’s going to be okay.

He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.

Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.

Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.

***

Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.

“Max! A word, if you please.”

He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”

Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”

“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”

Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.

“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”

“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”

Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”

It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.

“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”

Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”

Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”

He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”

Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.

“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.

Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.

You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.

The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️

He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?

After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.

After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.

“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”

Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”

So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.

“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”

Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”

“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”

Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”

“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”

“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”

As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.

When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”

“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”

Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”

“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”

“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”

You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”

He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”

“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”

“Sweet dreams, liefje.”

Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.

Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.

So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.

As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.

Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.

***

You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.

For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.

Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.

Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.

Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.

That’s no ordinary car.

That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.

Just like-

“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...

“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.

His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.

He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.

“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.

Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.

“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”

“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.

“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.

A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.

“Who is that guy?”

“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”

“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”

The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.

“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”

Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.

“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”

He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.

“You’re impossible!”

“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.

This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.

But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.

Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.

“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”

There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.

“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.

“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.

“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”

“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.

“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”

You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.

“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”

You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.

“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.

“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”

There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.

But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.

“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”

Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.

“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”

A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.

“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.

Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.

“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”

And neither of you can wait.

[irishvampireboy]

"Do you think Eddie likes me?" The question leaves Steve's mouth absently, like an afterthought. Wayne watches his shoulders tense as he holds the cabnet door up. His eyes are on the floor. His cheeks going red. Wayne hums genlty, trying not to laugh in Steve's face. If he only knew.

Instead he sits with the question for a moment, keeps working, tightening the screws till they're snug. He nods at Steve, he lets go. Wayne swings the door back and forth a few times. No squeaks. And it doesn't fall off into his hands. He and Steve both nod at the same time, satisfied, Steve's hands dropping to his hips.

"Does he bite you?" Wayne asks, trying to sound as thoughtful as Steve had with his question. Steve stares at him. Wayne raises his eyebrows.

"Eddie. Does he ever bite you?" He repeats, giving Steve a pointed look.

"Oh! Um.. he... yeah? S-sometimes." Steve stammers a bit, his brow furrowing as he rubs at the back of his neck. And then his hand falls to his shoulder. And then drops by his side and clenches. Wayne smiles.

"You ever heard'a cuteness aggression?" Wayne asks, putting his tools back into their box and stashing it on top of the fridge. Steve shakes his head and frowns again. Wayne nods, motions for the small table and sits, Steve following him and sitting across from him.

"Well what I understand of it, and I'm getting this information from Eddie so... take it as you will." Steve smiles, a knowing look passing his face as he nods, and yeah, this kid has it bad for his boy.

"It's when someone thinks something is so cute it makes them violent. And Ed's got it bad. Took him ages to get it under control. What do you think happened to Gilberts ear?" Wayne nods toward the couch where their chunky brown tabby cat is napping. He looks up at the mention of his name and meows inquisitively.

"Oh my god what?!" Steve gasps, his hand jumping to cover his mouth. Wayne snorts.

"I'm just messin with ya kid. He was like that when Ed found him." Wayne smiles. Steve looks at him, straight faced, unimpressed. One of Eddie's favorite looks to wax poetic about.

"Very funny." He says dryly. Wayne chuckles, taps his hand on the table and says,

"I thought so. Anyway, point is. If that boy's teeth have sunk into you at some point. Odds are he likes ya just fine." Wayne smiles warmly, watches the gears turning in Steve's head, his brow furrowing and then relaxing as his mouth drops open in a little "O".

"So he'd say yes. If I- I mean if I wanted to-" he watches Steve swallow nervously.

"If you asked him out. Yes. I believe he would say yes." Wayne just watches Steve, takes a sip of his coffee. Steve nods to himself.

"Okay. Okay cool. I can do this. Awesome. Thank you!" He'd stood, hands wiping at his thighs, patting down his pockets, looking for his keys, before startling and turning back to Wayne to thank him.

"They're on the table by the door. And you're welcome son." He took another sip.

"And Steve?" He calls as Steve's hand hits the door, the boy turns to look at him, wide eyed.

"Yeah?"

"He can be a little... dense. When it comes to these things. Best to be forward. To the point." Wayne nods again, gives Steve a knowing look. Watches as his head tilts like a puppy as he processes.

"Forward. To the point. Okay. I got this." Steve said, nodding, to himself really, before darting out the door.

Wayne shakes his head, smiles as he cleans out his coffee cup and hopes that he'd done right by his boy. He couldn't take much more of Eddie's love sick puppy eyes. And Steve had been doing them for a few months now as well, and it was all too much. It had to be done.

~*~

Three hours later the trailer door slams open and Eddie rushes in. Steve hot on his heels, hand locked in Eddie's as he drags him down the hall.

"Evening boys." Wayne says, nonchalant, from his place near the stove, leaning against the counter.

"Hi Wayne!" Steve calls, happy and polite.

"No!" Eddie says, points at Steve aggressively and then to Wayne.

"No more talking! You two have talked enough today!" He half yells, and then drags Steve into his room, both of them laughing. His door slams shut. And then promptly opens again. Eddie bounds into the little kitchen, right into Wayne's space, and nearly tackles him in a tight hug.

Wayne squeezes him back, feels Eddie's lips press gently against his shoulder and then he's gone. Twirling away from his uncle's hold.

"Thanks Wayne." He says, his eyes bright and shining, his cheeks dimpled with happiness, and, right along his jaw, the imprint of teeth. A bitemark. Right on his face.

Wayne nods, and smiles as Eddie disappears into his room again. He can hear them talking and laughing through the wall as he makes dinner. Dinner for three now. As it has been for months.

He cooks. And he thinks. Three hours later and Steve still had to bite him to get his point across. Wayne shakes his head, smiling as he breaks the noodles and tosses them into the water, happy that his boys were finally happy.

[steddiewithachance]

"You Should Date My Nephew"

"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.

Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.

433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.

Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.

The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.

"H'llo? Eds?"

"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.

"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"

"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.

But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.

"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.

"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."

"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."

"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.

And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.

So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.

"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.

"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.

"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.

"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."

And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.

"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.

But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.

"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.

"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.

"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.

By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.

On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?

He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.

"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.

"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.

"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.

A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.

"You should date my nephew."

Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.

"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.

"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.

"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.

"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"

"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.

"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.

"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."

"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.

"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.

"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.

"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.

Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.

"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"

Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.

"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"

"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.

"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.

"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."

And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."

[atebyflowers]

puppy | E.W

first time writing full smut . . so be gracious pls. i don't rmb ib . . so tag if u do lol — cw: sub!ellie, loser!ellie, fem reader, both afab, sex (duh), slight dacryphilia, fingering, cunnilingus, mommy kink, scissoring, cum eating, dom!reader, lol lol okay . . think thats all 🐈‍⬛ UNEDITED so ignore errors ty

"I need her so bad.” you say as you drag a cigarette between your lips, digging through your pockets in search of a lighter. The evening was loud, you and Dina has stepped out of the house to break from the over crowded party — the whether damp and gloomy making it look like midnight already. You groaned as dina took the cigarette out of your mouth, lighting it as she grew impatient waiting for you to finish digging through your pockets. "Did you even hear me?" You scoffed standing up to grab the now lit cigarette from her hands. Dina rolled her eyes at you, slightly laughing at what she thought, was your stupidity. "Shes to innocent for you babe" she replied after blowing out the smoke. "Yea? I'm sure nobody's that innocent. ." You replied taking another inhale from the cigarette. “You remember when i had to tutor her on sex ed?!" Dina laughed louder though her words, you scoff “that means nothing, maybe she needed help finding-" Dina cut you off with an even louder laugh, you rolled your eyes once again and shoved past her — stomping on the cigarette as you walked back into the house.

It was your sophomore year of college, at first — you were dreading moving back into your dorm the moment you found out you would have to move into a double this semester. Lucky for you, that all changed the moment you realize who your roomate was. Ellie. . the girl you've been practically obsessed with for as long as you can remember. God was she a fucking loser—but you loved it. The way she subtly watched you in admiration thinking you never noticed, the way she'd follow you around like a lost puppy whenever you hanged out in large groups . . She was an addiction to you — and you needed more. With her bed right across from yours, your mind spiraled with the ideas of her every time the sun set. When you finally fell asleep, all you could dream about was the way she’d sound underneath your grip . . fuck it killed you. You knew ellie was inexperienced, definitely not innocent like dina described it . . but she had never been with a girl the way you had been with a girl — you hated it, but we're also obsessed with the idea of being her first full body.

standing in front of the door to your dorm, Dina scoffed before you turned around to face her. "Suddenly you're nervous?" She questioned looking at you with an attitude, "I'm not . . fuck off dina" you responded. It was midnight now, actually midnight, and the two of you finally made it back to campus. Clothes drenched by the sudden storm — you turned away from the black haired girl and pulled out your dorm key. "I'll be praying for you, but i still don't think you have a chance!" Dina said, walking off before you could respond. You sighed heavily leaning your head back before you fully unlocked the door walked inside shaking your head. You hang up your soaked jacket and lift off your T-shirt leaving a tank top underneath. Throwing the wet t-shirt into your laundry hamper, you're caught off gaurd by the sounds of groans.

"Els?" You question walking into kitchen, making her jump. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you . . But you're really loud" you laughed. Ellie sighs through a laugh and turns back to her papers placing her pencil down on the counter. You walked closer to her, studying her expressions in an attempt to read her feelings. Watching her for a few moments in silence, you view her furrowed eyebrows as she chews on the eraser of her pencil. Moving even closer to lean over her shoulder, your breathe against her skin catches her off gaurd. "Need any help?" You question, slightly dragging your fingers up and down her exposed arms. Ellie smiled to herself before responding, "like you could help me" she scoffed sarcastically and you frowned "what is that supposed to mean?" You questioned, and ellie turned around to face you, you — backing up slightly so your eyes could meet once she's adjusted in her chair. "I just mean . . you know, I'm smart. . It's okay" her words made you laugh, "oh I know you're smart baby, but you look so stressed" you said patting her head, nearly petting her as she blushed at your response. "so pathetic" you thought in your head, your

teasing was ever so slightly, yet just enough to make her a re mess. Standing just above her, Ellie's eyes uncontrollably meet your chest — staring for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. You giggle as you watch her, causing sudden embarrassment to flush over her. "My eyes are up here" you said lifting her chin to face you, "i wasn-" Ellie's voice was shaky as she met your eyes again — nearly trembling over how close you two were. "I'm sorry" she barely gets out through a voice crack. You bite your lips hiding a smile as you look down at her, caressing her cheeks with your thumb. You hummed, pulling your body on top of hers in a straddle position—ellie's body slightly shocked by the sudden contact. "Look at me" you said as she tried to look in any other direction, before obeying your words and looking up at you. "have you done this before?" you questioned her remaining eye contact, your softer now — somewhat soothing her firing anxiety. Ellie shook her head, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. You chuckled, still soothing her cheeks with free hand — the other one caressing her thigh. "Have you thought about it?" You asked her bluntly, your voice just barely above a whisper as your faces were now closer than ever — lips Barry just brushing over eachother as ellie did nothing but whine in response. "use ur words baby . ." You responded, using your free hand to grab her jaw, forcing eye contact. "Yes" she stuttered through her response and you smirked, her breathe heavily filling the room already. "Tell me then . . . have you thought about?" You whispered again, eyes now on her lips.

"you . . I've thought about you" she blurted out, your eyes dragging up from her lips and onto hers. those words was all it took for you to pull her up, making her stand with you as you dragged her over to the living room and onto the couch. obediently, she sits down on the cushions as you tower over her — watching her fidget in her seat before you move to straddle her again. holding her chin with your hand, you pull her lips into yours aggressively — guiding her hands onto your waist. Ellie grips your sides as you slightly grind yourself against her — the small friction sending her into a trance. struggling to focus on your lips, distracted by her desperate attempts to feel you — you pull away from the kiss giving her a moment to breathe. "What do you want me to do?” you whisper, your breathe brushing her lips. Ellie whines and you grip her chin harder, "use your words . ." You add onto your words, causing her to whine again and choke out a response. "please . . touch me" she says softly — you smiling at her words.

pushing her down onto the couch, your mouth is on her lips again — even more aggressive then before, and Ellie wines as you make your way down her body. Dragging down her bottoms, you gently brush your hand over her boxers — ellies breath growing heavier with every touch. slowly enough to make her whine, you pull down hee boxers and push your hand up her body before dragging it back down. "

“You’re so pretty” You whisper, ellies eyes fluttering as her face grew red. "has anyone else ever seen you like this?" you questioned with your hand caressing her thigh again, your eyes watching it before you move them to look at her. ellie shakes her head before letting out a quiet "no", her response making you smile as you dragged your hand from her thigh onto her cunt, a moan escaping her lips in response to the sudden pleasure. Her desperation has you over the edge. She's a mess as you continue to rub her clit before bring your mouth down. your tongue gently moving up and down causes desperate 'pleases' to escape her mouth. Looking up at her with your head still between her legs, you move your down to her entrance. Without warning, you push two fingers into her cunt slowly — the suddenness causing a loud "fuck" to come out of her mouth.

"so perfect" you whine out, leaning down to latch your mouth into her clot — sucking onto it as you speed up your pace. fingers pumping in and out of her, ellies moans filled your ears — causing your own pleasure to form below. "f-feels so good. ." She whines out, her voice breaking as she attempts to hide her moans. Her words spark something within your body, making you increase your pace — the wetness between your mouth still sucking on her clit, and the juices spilling from ber cunt, causing you to moan into her. "I'm gonna-" she attempts to speak but cuts herself off with another loud moan.

"Not yet baby . . wanna hear you" you breathe out louder than before, removing your mouth for a slight moment to speak before pushing yourself back into her. she was an addiction, her sweet taste making it nearly impossible for you to stop. Tears spilled from ellies eyes as she attempted to obey your commands, grinding her hips into your face and fingers — she was entirely overwhelmed. "p-please, please let me cum.” She cries, her new tone causing you to smile to yourself.

Removing your mouth from her, your fingers still at a steady pace, you lean over her and use your free hand to grab her face harshly. "Say it again" you instructed her, her eyes still filled with tears as she practically yelled out her response. "Please- please mommy, please I need it.” Her words sending electricity throughout your body and you grow needy. With your own wet spot grown on your shorts, you remove your fingers from inside her causing her to whine loudly. Moving the fabric aside, you push your body onto hers. Careful not to waste time, you alone your clit with hers — holding her body down just enough for you to aggressively grind against her. The two of you moaning loud enough for whoever might be walking by the rooms to hear, shamelessly shes yelling your name as you fuck her ruthlessly. "it's . . Too much please, please y/n" she whimpered out, you aggressively pushing yourself down onto her harder, "take it baby . . you're doing so good. ." You responded, your tone sympathetic to her cries. ellie attempts to grind herself against you, desperate to put work in. "I need to cum, please let me cum, it- y-you f-feel so fucking good" she cries out louder than ever and you can feel your own release coming on with every grind against her soaking clit. "Cum with me baby . . . cum with mommy" you ordered in a husky tone, your voice alone being enough for her orgasm to come over her.

Before she could come down from her climax, you lifted yourself off of her — a string of your releases trailing off of your clit as you shifted your body down once again, pushing your mouth into her cum filled cunt. Ellie whimpered as you took her in, savouring her taste and sucking on her ever so slightly — being cautious of her sensitivity. Releasing your mouth from her body, you looked up at her — her hair a mess and her eyes still watery as she attempted to catch her breathe. You began kissing up her body until you reached her face, caressing her body up and down gently, she did the same with what strength she had left in her. "such a good girl" you whispered out, your eyes meeting her reddened face causing you to smile. "mmmm . ." You moaned into her lips as you pulled her in for a more gentle and passionate kiss.

"you did so good baby" you said barely moved away from her lips, "so so good" you added on, caressing her blushed face as her eyes — still dampened from her heavy tears, fluttered tiredly in response to your praises.

[strangersatellites]

frat steve has taken steddie twitter by storm so have this

eddie’s dragging his feet in his boots, humming under his breath while he unsuccessfully flicks the lighter under his cigarette.

every time he finds himself walking down fraternity row he also finds himself wondering how he got here.

not physically- he took a left on 4th and a right on morningside, he knows that.

but in a larger sense.

he’s a junior well on his way to a media and entertainment arts degree who, as a freshman and sophomore spent most of his friday nights at local dives either playing with his band or drinking and shooting the shit with the divorced dads at the pool table.

so when he wonders how he got here, he means how he’s found himself on the way to his third house party this month.

he finally gets his cigarette lit and he stops on the sidewalk to get in a few drags before he heads in. mentally prepares himself for the insufferable music he’ll have to endure for thirty minutes or so before he tunes it out.

he mock-bows at the group of girls that wanders past, giggles and waves sent his way making him laugh to himself.

he drops the butt and stubs it beneath the toe of his boot and takes a breath.

heads toward the house door.

when he gets there he’s met with two guys, freshman surely. letters emblazoned across their cutoff muscle tees and hats turned backwards and perched, very stupidly if eddie shares his piece, atop their heads.

they stop him with a hand up and friendly smiles and mock bravado “three actives,” bro number one states.

eddie barely holds back an incredulous laugh.

“you cannot be serious.”

the boys eye each other, confused and getting frustrated, eddie can tell.

the first bows up a bit.

“dead serious, bro. name three actives.”

and look, eddie may be a showman at the best of times but he really doesn’t want to pull his trump card here. not now.

that would just add insult to injury.

he’s wracking his brain for a way to let them down gently, to get them to step aside and let him through when there’s a loud commotion behind them and then steve is shouldering his way past and onto the front steps.

“eddie!!” he cheers and swings his strong arms up and around his neck. he, unlike tweedle dee and tweedle dum, is just wearing a white t-shirt and his hair, his beautiful, beautiful hair is left untarnished by the blasphemy that is the frat boy snapback.

he wraps an arm low around his waist and presses a kiss to his temple.

“hey, baby,” he smiles, watching the dropped jaws and disbelieving eyes over steve’s shoulder.

steve pulls back and shoves his chest back and he stumbles, laughing.

“dude you were supposed to be here ages ago!”

eddie tugs him back close by his wrists and puts on his best puppy eyes.

“sorry, sweetheart, got caught up at rehearsals. but i’m all yours now.”

steve grabs his hand and tangles their fingers together. spins around and point between eddie and the pledge-bouncers.

“guys, this is eddie! eddie this is jeremy and josh.”

eddie waves, small and a bit sarcastic but steve doesn’t pick up on that. just tugs him past and takes off to find eddie a drink.

eddie gets clapped on the shoulder and high-fived by a couple of steve’s friends as they pass and he yells across the room to eric to save him a seat.

he turns back to the door and still sees bewildered looks, slightly afraid.

he gets it, he does.

in a larger sense at least.

if he were these boys and had just tried to deny entry to the president’s boyfriend he might be a little afraid too.

he swings an arm around each of their shoulders and pulls them close.

“relax, gentlemen. your secret is safe with me.”

they stutter and go to argue but steve is back with two red plastic cups and a bright smile.

“c’mon ed, luke wants to hear about your show since he missed it last week.”

eddie pats both boys on their backs before he takes the drink from steve’s hand and tucks the other in steve’s back pocket.

“later guys. catch up next time, yeah?”

their stunned nods and quiet agreements follow as eddie and steve walk away.

they’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.

[appocalipse]

doomed plans : ̗̀➛ eddie munson

you and your ex, eddie, are trying to be "just friends". it's harder than you thought it would be. | exes to lovers, suggestive but no smut, 2.2k words

"Fancy seeing you here."

His tone is jocular, but the comment is more of an understated question than a simple greeting. There's no mistaking it—he's pleasantly surprised to see you here at this party.

He looks good.

Eddie Munson looks really good.

Or maybe it's just that being around him makes you feel good, after too many weeks of forcing yourself not to miss him. "Fancy seeing you, too," you respond. "Funny how Nance forgot to mention you'd be here."

A playful glint lights up his eyes as he sidles closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth—and the expression is so familiar that your heart leaps before you can think to tamp it down.

"Ah, well, I have a theory about that, actually."

"Do you?"

He gives an energetic nod. You're still trying to muster a casual air, despite the surge of...whatever the hell this is that's hitting you right now; a rush of emotion that's just different enough from mere nostalgia to be unsettling in its intensity.

"I do," he says with another nod, this one emphatic. His smile broadens as he peers down at you.

Oh, Jesus Christ. His grin. The warmth of it. The conspiratorial joy in it.

"Wheeler's too nice for her own good," he informs you. "She didn't want to mention me because she knew you'd bail."

"Why would I bail if you were coming?"

"Because of... you know." He reaches out and taps your hand—just a quick gesture, not lingering, but you feel the feather-light touch of his fingertip like an electric shock that ricochets up your arm. "The unresolved sexual tension and everything."

"What?"

"What what?" he echoes innocently, batting his eyelashes at you with exaggerated sweetness. Eddie loves this game, and he plays it well, even now. "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. You and me."

"You and me?"

"Me and you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets and bouncing on the balls of his feet like an eager child on Christmas morning. The taunting tone is still there, but so is something else that makes your breath catch in your throat. "Done with that yet?"

"With what?"

"Whatever it is that's keeping us apart," he says airily, and then frowns as he eyes you again. "Which, come to think of it, I don't actually know. So, hey, let's talk about that."

"Eds," you begin, then catch yourself as his face lights up at the nickname, "Don't look at me like that. We agreed."

"We did?" He tilts his head and gives you a quizzical stare. "I don't remember that."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

You just give him a pointed look.

"Come on, Y/N." His tone softens, turns low and quiet and more serious than you're expecting. "I miss you. Do you miss me?"

He's staring at you so intently that you can't bring yourself to lie. You grab your drink and take a quick sip, to stall for time, because the real answer to his question is complicated.

The beer goes down too fast. "Eddie."

"What?" He sounds innocent, but he isn't fooling you for one second.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"You know like what," you retort, trying to pretend that your pulse isn't pounding in your ears right now. "You're playing with me."

"Do you want to be played with?" he asks, dark eyes glinting again.

The playful remark makes your skin tingle with a heat that's all too familiar. It's not just the words, either. It's the way Eddie is watching you, the slight smirk curving his lips, the flirtatious shift in his posture as he leans into your personal space again, intentionally crowding you this time.

There's an answering heat in your face now, a flush spreading across your skin.

Fuck.

"You have no idea what I want," you retort, deciding that it's best to keep this exchange lighthearted.

"Bullshit," he replies. "I have a very good idea of what you want."

Eddie looks entirely too pleased with himself right now. You reach out and poke him in the chest. "And what is it that I want?"

He doesn't back away from the touch. Instead, he reaches out and pokes you back, touching your shoulder with gentle insistence as he inches even closer, until your face is just inches from his. "You want this," he says softly, gaze darting to your mouth and then back up again.

Oh.

"Don't," you say.

It's a halfhearted protest at best, though. And when Eddie raises an eyebrow, you shake your head with an exasperated sigh. You're well aware that you don't sound convincing at all. This conversation has spun wildly out of control in the space of seconds.

"Don't?" He parrots the word back to you in an incredulous tone, then pulls his lower lip between his teeth, watching you closely as he lets it slide back out from under his bite again, plump and pink and glistening in the low light. "I'm not doing anything."

Back up, you think. Move away. You shouldn't be standing so close.

You find yourself staring at Eddie's mouth for a beat too long before you look back up into his eyes. You smile. "You're going to get me all confused again."

"Good." He leans forward until your foreheads are nearly touching. "If I do it right, you'll start forgetting all those reasons you were using to convince yourself we should stay broken up."

You laugh as you shove him back a step, shaking your head. "See? There you go again."

He holds his hands up in front of himself, grinning widely as he speaks. "Look, all I'm saying is, sometimes you get all twisted up in your head about things. But, other times... well, you listen to your heart instead. You just need a little reminder that the heart is usually right."

"Oh, really?" You take another sip of beer. Tastes terrible. You wish it would at least do more to quell the butterflies suddenly fluttering in your stomach. "And who told you that?"

"Said so yourself, last summer." He stares at you with a wistful expression. "Remember? The lake. Sunset. I'd like to think you remember that day."

"Eds," you warn.

"And the night after that," he continues, his gaze turning molten now as he reaches out to smooth a stray lock of hair away from your face. "I remember every detail, I can refresh your memory if you want."

It's been too long since anyone has touched you like this, and your heart leaps as his fingertips brush your cheek. It's just an instant, gone in the blink of an eye. Still...

You really are touch-starved, though, if just the whisper of Eddie's hand against your face is enough to make you want to lean into his palm. "So, what are you suggesting?"

"Well..." His mouth twitches. "Are you going to kiss me, or should I kiss you?"

"Neither." You step back and take a sip of beer. Nope. Still terrible. "I, uh, gotta get some...air. Or something."

"Air, or something?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you mutter, setting the plastic cup down on the nearest available surface, which turns out to be a table stacked with pizza boxes. Your fingers find the wooden edge and you cling, leaning your weight into it. "Look, you need to stop doing that thing."

Eddie is watching you like a cat about to pounce on its prey. "What thing?"

"You know, the thing. The thing you do. It's very... persuasive. Very convincing." You fold your arms over your chest, because the safest course of action right now is clearly not letting him get close enough to touch you again. "And it's also not fair, because we agreed."

Eddie puts his hands on his hips and tips his head back, letting out an exasperated huff. "No, you agreed. I didn't agree to anything."

"Oh, c'mon. You did. And you know you did. We both did. It was mutual."

"Uh-huh." He makes a sound of amusement as he steps closer again. "Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"

"I just—"

He reaches up, grips your chin with gentle insistence, and tilts your face up until your eyes meet. The world narrows until there's nothing but Eddie, who's looking at you with the same sweetly teasing expression he used to wear when he would lean over and whisper stupid jokes in your ear during class, back when you were still tentatively learning how to navigate each other, still in the shy, testing stages of that first year.

Except now, he doesn't look away as soon as you glance at him.

Now, he holds your gaze.

Now, his thumb traces your jawline.

Now, he gives you a moment to consider, before he leans in closer and presses his lips against yours.

It's not a kiss, really. Not quite. Just the suggestion of a kiss, a faint brush of his mouth against yours, a fleeting warmth that lingers for the space of a breath or two, there and then gone again.

You blink up at him, startled by the rush of heat that sweeps through you as his fingers linger on your skin. "Eddie—"

The next kiss is softer, slower, firmer. The gentle, searching pressure of Eddie's mouth on yours, unhurried and deliberate and sure, tugs at a piece of your heart that you thought was already mended, but he coaxes it into breaking open all over again.

"We...we..." You gasp, trying to remember why this is a bad idea. But the rational part of your brain is gone, shut off entirely by the little hum of contentment Eddie makes as he shifts his lips against yours. 

"We what?" His words are murmured against your lips.

Your mouth still feels like it's tingling from his kiss. You lean forward, swaying into him without realizing it. "We shouldn't—"

Another kiss. You let your eyes flutter closed, and Eddie nudges you backward until your shoulders hit the wall. 

His hands slide into your hair, fingers brushing through the strands, tilting your head back. You know you should stop him, but instead, you pull him closer, chasing the kiss when he breaks away, and, oh... his mouth is back on yours again, still slow, still soft, still measured. Not enough.

He is chuckling when he pulls back, the sound so quiet that you feel it more than hear it.

You think, This isn't fair. You shouldn't be able to do this to me. Not anymore.

The whole point of breaking up was so you could get over each other. This, right here? It is not helpful.

"Why, uh..." He clears his throat and trails off. When you open your eyes, you see him smiling down at you, flushed and disheveled, with a smudge of your lipstick on his mouth. "You've gotten really good at that."

Your hand goes up to his lips, finger swiping over the mark left behind by your lipstick. "So...you're saying I wasn't any good at this before, huh?"

Eddie bites his lower lip, his gaze darting to your mouth before sliding back up to meet your eyes again. "I'm saying we could've been doing this the whole time."

"We should stop, before...before...you know."

His nose nudges yours, a touch so fleeting it makes you want to tilt your face up to chase after it, but you stop yourself, because if you keep kissing him, you won't be able to bring yourself to stop. And that would be...bad. Definitely bad. You just can't remember exactly why right now.

"Before what?" Eddie asks in a low voice.

Your mouth, lips still warm from his, curves into a reluctant smile. "Eddie."

He's a breath away. "What, sweetheart?"

Oh, oh. You're in trouble. 

"You gotta stop kissing me," you say, as your fingers trail down his chest. He's so solid, warm under your touch. Your hands settle on his waist, and you grip the worn denim of his jeans to tug him closer even as you keep talking, trying to remember why you even wanted this breakup in the first place. "I'm, uh, working on getting over you."

"How's that going, by the way?"

"Terrible."

Eddie just laughs. "It is, huh?"

"Yeah, it is," you say. "But, see, I have a plan, and your kissing is messing up my plan. And my plan is a good one. So, don't mess it up. Please."

Eddie watches you, that fond, slightly smug smile on his lips again. He takes one of your hands in his and presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, mouth lingering, his breath warm, eyes still on yours. "Tell me about this plan, then."

You make an indignant sound and try to tug your hand away. "It involves trying to spend less time with you, Eds. Like, you know, avoiding parties at friend's houses and all that. Gotta avoid those kinds of situations."

He presses his forehead against yours, and you sigh, leaning into the touch. "Why, exactly?"

"Because it's too... it's just too hard. It's really hard."

"I'll give you something hard, if you want," he says, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

You can't help but laugh. "You are the worst."

But maybe that's exactly what you need.

Well...that plan was doomed from the start anyway.

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𖥔

summary ; eddie finally admits that he can't get you, his best friend, out of his head.

notes ; potential cussing, mentions of weed and the reader having hair. let me know if i forgot anything !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

it was midnight on a friday, now turned saturday, and the low sound of rain hitting the roof of your trailer had been accompanying you as you watched your film. usually, eddie would be with you, curled up in your bed, watching whatever movie it was that you had picked out with his hands trailing through your hair because he knew you loved it. 

the sound of knuckles rapping on the trailer door drags your attention away from the movie, and it's not until then that you eventually pull yourself from the sheets. there was only ever one person that would come knocking so late at night, and the small "open up, my ass is freezing" that follows, only solidifies your thoughts. 

eddie was your best friend — he was also the best friend you could ever ask for — protective, compassionate, understanding. he saw the world in you, much like you did him, and it had been that way ever since you were kids. 

giggling to yourself, you straighten out the shirt you were wearing, an old one of eddie's that he no longer wore, and opened the door to see him leaning against the frame. a smirk is splayed across his lips, his unruly hair slightly damp and covered in tiny raindrops as it fell over his dewy brown eyes, and he pulls something from his back pocket. 

"wanna go for a drive?" he wriggles his brows, holding a joint between his pale fingers. 

"and by 'drive'... you mean?"

"getting high in the back of my van." he answers almost immediately. you don't respond, instead, you narrow your eyes at him for a second. the hint of a smile makes an appearance, and he takes the little roll of your eyes as a 'yes'.

you give him a light shove, though he adds to the theatrics and plays along as if it had actually hurt before inviting himself in and closing the door. "i would've come by earlier but hellfire ran a little later than i thought it would, and then i got carried away planning out next weeks part of the campaign." he plants himself on the sofa, kicking his feet up on the coffee table as you search through your basket of discarded laundry to find some pants. 

"have they worked out you're bringing vecna back, yet?" you ask, sifting to the bottom of the pile and plucking out a pair to slip on. 

"no, but dustin made a huge move tonight and i think they could be close to finding out." 

as eddie continues to relay the events that had unfolded at hellfire, you head to your room to grab a jacket, though upon your return, you notice he had suddenly gone quiet. there wasn't but a murmur or an utterance that fell from his lips. 

he remains on the sofa, his head lulled back against the cushions as he stares at the roof. something had shifted in his demeanour. his eyes no longer sparkled with passion like they had only moments ago, and his ever-so-lovable smirk had disappeared.

"you okay, eds?" you ask, adorning a now worrisome frown, and you sit on your side to face him. your knee hits his thigh, and the chain on his pants clangs together, but he doesn't answer, his mind a million miles away. "eds?" you poke him gently. 

"hmm, what?" he clicks back to reality, eyes wide when he sees you're beside him now. he blinks back whatever had been plaguing his mind, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, and looks to you once more. "what were you saying?"

"i wasn't saying anything, you were, and then you went quiet." you give a lopsided smile, leaning your arm against the back of the sofa to rest your head on. "what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours?"

he blushes, relishing in the way you call him pretty, and his head sinks with a sigh, "m’just thinking."

"you? eddie munson? thinking?" there's another tug at his lips, the ghost of a smile appearing before it's gone once again. he lets out another sigh, eyes avoiding you now, and that's when you know something is truly bothering him. "okay, sit. tell me what's wrong." you pat your thigh. 

obliging, eddie moves to rest his head on you, your fingers immediately finding his hair and entangling among the curly locks. ever since you were little eddie had always been an open book to you, constantly telling you what was on his mind, never keeping anything hidden. more times than not, you knew what was wrong with him before he did, but this... this seemed different. 

it takes him a moment, but eventually, he opens his mouth to speak, the gears turning in his head, "do you ever think about getting out of here?"

"out of hawkins?"

"yeah. like just packing a bag and leaving?" 

"like.. every day."

"where would you go?" he looks up at you through the shaggy mess of his bangs, a quirk in his smile as his dimples peak through now. 

you shrug, "anywhere is better than here. what about you?"

"oh, i'd pack up my van in a heartbeat. take my guitars, my tapes, my dnd stuff and just take off. don't know where, but as long as i'm on the road, i don't care." it was hard not to notice the way his eyes lit up as he spoke about hitting the road, though the pang in your chest that followed after him mentioning leaving, set a wave of fear over you. 

for so long eddie had been a part of your life, the one constant you had as you grew. it was hard to ever imagine a life without him because... you didn't want to. after spending so many years by each other's sides, running to one another in your times of need, being the only person the other fully trusted — a life without eddie would be an empty one. 

there's a flicker of fear in your eyes that eddie catches sight of before it's quickly gone. a tug between your brows as worry etches across your forehead because while the thought of leaving hawkins had crossed your mind many times, you never intended to leave eddie behind, nor would you want to. but with the roles reversed, you weren't entirely sure if you held the same amount of importance. 

this hurts even more when you take into consideration the flourishing feelings you had for him. it was bound to happen — practically inevitable — but you couldn't bare the thought of him ever finding out. 

a blanket of silence falls over the two of you, eddie's ringed fingers dancing across the material of the sofa until he reaches yours and pulls your hand towards his chest. he doesn't say anything, just fiddles with the ends of your fingers, before abruptly sitting up and turning to you. 

there was a shift in the way he was looking at you now, almost like he had something to tell you - something that was on the tip of his tongue. he prods at the sofa nervously, before planting his hands in his lap and shuffling closer to you. 

"there is one thing that i know i wouldn't be able to leave without though." he says in a way, that both confused and intrigues you. "well, i should say 'someone' rather."

"rick." you joke. 

a soft chuckle leaves him, "no. though, now that you mention it-" he stops short when you playfully hit his shoulder, an array of laughter falling from you both. "i'm kidding. i'm kidding. obviously… it’s you."

"you mean that?" there’s a coy smile on your lips, unsure if his words were sincere or if he was simply saying it to make you feel better.

his brows pinch together, "of course, i do." 

"what if… you get sick of me?"

"i could never get sick of you, you muppet." he ruffles your hair.

"what if i get sick of you?"

"I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that."

another silence falls over you both, smiling at one another, thinking of scenarios in your heads of the two of you on the road. iron maiden playing at an alarmingly loud volume as eddie sings along with the wind blowing through his hair, and he wears the biggest smile you had ever seen as you drive through the prettiest of landscapes.

"do you... do you ever think about... us?" he hums the question though there's a shakiness to it that you don't think he meant to let off.

"what? like hanging out? we already do that."

"no,” he exhales. "i mean... people say that you're likely to fall in love with your best friend. do you ever think like that about us?" the question takes you by surprise. did he somehow know of your feelings for him? your sudden silence seems to stir something in him. "uh, y'know what? just forget i said anything."

"no, eds," you reach for his hand but he moves it before you can. "do you think about us... like that?"

he peels himself off the sofa now, pacing a little on the other side of the coffee table, "no — i mean, sometimes. i just — mike said something that got me thinking and, i know that i shouldn't let that little shit get inside my head. but, i don't know, lately, i just can't seem to keep you… out of it."

you were unsure as to what eddie was implying — saying he couldn’t get you out of his head — did he mean it the same way you did? or did he just mean he had been thinking about you like he always did? "what did mike say?" your voice is low, almost too afraid to ask. 

"oh, he was just being a smartass as per usual,” his brows raise as he rolls his eyes. “when i said i had to check-in with you first about whether or not we could fit in an extra hellfire session this week because we had already made plans, he said ‘why is she your girlfriend now?’ of course, i denied it, but then jeff started saying that i act like we’re a married couple, or that we’re domesticated, or some shit. and then, of course, dustin just had to chime in saying that he sees the way we look at each other — what does that even mean? — and then gareth and jeff started saying all this bullshit and-“

“-eds,” the sound of his name falling off your tongue hits him like sweet honey, stopping him mid-ramble as his head whips back to you. you stand to join him around the other side of the table, his eyes watching you with wonderment as you slowly approach him. “… i do too.”

“you do too, what?” he asks, bemused, and it’s not until you tilt your head and raise a brow that he catches on. “wait… you do?” you nod, tracing his features as he does the same to you. his eyes illuminated by the moonlight as his bangs fall in disarray, and you reach up to gently brush them back into place. “what are you doing?”

"i wanted to see your face." you say, lowly, your hands now falling to land on his shoulders. 

"why?" he asks. 

"i wanted to see your face..." you pause briefly, a shiver of anticipation rolling down your spine. "... when i do this." you lean forward now, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. he's quick to catch on to what you meant, and he meets you halfway, pressing your lips together with pent-up urgency. 

"y/n," he mumbles your name against your lips before slightly pulling away, leaving you breathless as your chest rises and falls dramatically. "are you sure? i don't — i don't want this to ruin anything between us." he smiles through his eyes, though there's a sadness deep within him begging for reassurance. 

"what did you say to me before? about the someone you wouldn't be able to leave without?" you ask, leaving him with more questions than the ones he already had. 

he exhales, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip as his hands rest on your hips. "i said... it's you." 

"exactly." 

[madelynraemunson]

NEED…MORE…EX-HUSBAND!EDDIE…I AM FERAL AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH PLEASE BLESS US MORE I’M BEGGING

IT’S ANGST O’CLOCK!!!

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ex husband! eddie x fem!reader

“all that still matters is ‘love ever after’ — after the life we’ve been through” — life after you // daughtry

WC: ~950 words

3AM. The witching hour.

The air smells of twilight musk and marinating dew. It's pitch black all around you, the nearest gas station being an agonizing 1.3 miles away. You're also 10 miles from Hawkins, pulled over in nothing but platform heels, a black mini dress, and expired pepper spray in your purse. To make matters worse, the only friends up who seem to be up at this hour are hungry bears and obnoxious, chirping crickets. And skinwalkers if you're where you think you are.

A horrible ending to a girls night out. Just what you needed.

Alone and afraid, you decide to call the number one person on speed dial, whose gradual distaste towards you renders itself very evident from the moment he answers the phone.

"What?! I'm trying to sleep."

"Eds." you whimper into the phone. "I need you."

There's a long pause in response to your petrified sobs, followed by the clicking noise of a phone keyboard before you hear cursing and the frantic ruffling of sheets.

"I’ll be there."

"Well?"

You watch as Eddie crinkles his forehead in concentration, examining your car while his soot-tainted hands explore every crevice of your hood. Routine maintenance has never been as issue because you've always had a personal mechanic at your feet. But since the divorce, you've gotten pretty bad about it. Otherwise, the you and Eddie wouldn't be stuck in this situation. Obviously.

"Weeelp." Eddie sighs, stretching out every bit of the syllable. He slams the hood shut. "She's just about blown out. You're lucky that thing didn't overheat too much with you in it."

You've prided yourself in not needing a man to change your tires, wiper fluid, OR oil nowadays. But in the midst of your journey towards self love and independence, you somehow forgot that your car could also overheat.

"Oh..”

You try not to watch intently as Eddie cleans his hands off with his hanky, the one he keeps neatly tucked into the back pocket of his flattering dark, denim jeans. Your eyes then trail towards his leather jacket, which housed his broad shoulders and delicious waist so nicely, you would've thought it had been tailored just for him. And you could just about fall right into him when he angles his torso towards you, his sculpted jawline glistening in the moonlight — but nearly not as glistening as those gorgeous chocolate eyes, the ones he used to his advantage during your marriage to get you to forgive him for whatever mistake he seemed to make that week. Before you could fawn any further, Eddie snaps you back to reality.

"When was the last time you put some coolant in this thing?"

"Some what?"

"You keep Prestone at the house?" Eddie pesters. "Antifreeze? Peak?"

Cheeks reddening, you shake your head. "No.”

"You get this thing examined often?"

“Not unless you do it," is what you shamefully admit. “For the most part…”

Eddie's face scrunches out of frustration. He knew this would happen.

"God, I hate when you do shit like this," he snaps. "For all I know your engine light could've been on for weeks."

"But it wasn't." you mutter softly. You're already scared. This is the last thing you need.

"You know your car in particular needs to be serviced every half year?" Eddie mutters. "Oil changes, tire rotations. Your break pads have also seen better days. Which is concerning."

"Ok.”

"And how many times do I have to say you gotta pay attention to this fucking radiator?!" Eddie hisses, slapping at the hood again with his open palm. You shudder at the loud *THUNK* noise that echoes across the woods. "We wouldn't be out here in 3AM if you had just taken proactive measures.”

"Stop YELLING at me!" you whine, a piece of your inner child spewing outwards to combat Eddie's belligerent word vomit.

"I'm not yelling." Eddie firmly insists.

He turns his back to you and starts towards your car again.

"Yes, you are, you always do." you croak miserably, balling your fists up in frustration. “You always do Eddie, and I'm sick of it! You always want to be right, and you always kick me when I'm already down to-"

“Okay, okay, okay." Eddie hushes you. He runs a frantic hand through his hair. "Agh, fuck, okay — I’m sorry.”

He looks at you with guilty, glimmering eyes as you shift your body away from him. Guarded, tense. Closing up all access of you towards him because he lost those rights a long time ago. Muttering to himself now, Eddie scrapes at the pebbles beneath his feet, fiddling with the chain of his wallet before he dares to speak to you again.

"I just worry about you a lot."

You peer back over at him. "Deadass?"

He snorts. "Well yeah."

With your permission Eddie stalks closer to you.

"I don't want to wake up to a phone call talking about my wife's car bursting into flames — with her inside." He rolls his eyes. “All because she hasn't been maintaining her shit.”

"I have been," you fib just a bit, though most of it rings true. just forgot to iron out some little details."

Eddie relaxes his shoulders.

"I know," he surrenders. “I guess there's a part of me that secretly hopes you'll still need me somehow. Some way, or another."

"I'll always need your presence," you reassure him.

Your ex husband softens up. He always thought that during your separation you had found another Superman to save the day. Some other handsome devil to fix your car and maintain all the leaky faucets inside your once shared home. But as you've always insisted, nobody has your back like Eddie. Your very own George Reeves. At your disposal for you and you only.

He suddenly wraps his arms around you, and as you predicted you ease right into him, the comfort and familiarity of Eddie melting away any ounce of hostility you guys have ever harbored against each other. You both have your days, but the love you two have for each other has always remained the same. Just changed form, is all.

"I'm glad you're okay," is all he says.

'I'm glad you're here," you sniff. "Always playing hero, per usual..."

"Well for you, always."

He plants a gentle kiss on top of your forehead as you two sway around in unison. You hum to showcase your endearment.

And he'd do it again.

———

🏷️ tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe 🫶🏼✨ thank you guys for reading :)

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths

[blingblong55]

Ruined -Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW

Photo credits: @ave661 (left and right)

Based on a request: just thinking about simon making us wear vibrating panties in public … on my knees begging . ---- F!Reader, 18+, MDNI, smut, established!relationship, toys, ruined!orgasm ----

It started as a simple question. Your loving boyfriend wanted to take you out to a restaurant just because he wanted to. "With one condition," he adds as you excitedly apply your lipgloss. "You must wear this for me, darling," he says as a lush toy appears in his hand. The remote on his pocket and a smirk on his lips.

Your cheeks flushed as you knew his real intentions.

He was always into public play and more so when you cried as you tried to keep quiet.

A shy nod from you and his smirk widens, "Good girl," he says as he picks you up and carries you to the sofa. Once you sat down, he knelt in front of you. His thick and calloused fingers playing with your clothed cunt. Your wetness already making the soft fabric show the eagerness you felt within. He chuckles knowing your slick would be more than enough to let the toy slide inside of you. As his fingers push the pink fabric to the side, he looks up at you. It's always good to taste test, no?

His tongue licks at your folds, a hum of satisfaction as he comes in contact with your sweet flavour.

"Oh darling~" he lets out a soft moan. Your sweetness making him want to skip dinner and just fuck you now. But he must edge you so by the time he fucks you over and over, that sweet orgasm makes you cry in pleasure. It's what good men do for their pretties.

His fingers fucking themselves into your cunt, the slick coating them as he kisses and licks at your clit. The pink toy waiting to be used finally gets pushed inside. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sudden entrance of it and the coldness of it. His tongue clicks as he shakes his head, "No more noises, darling. Be a good girl for me, okay?" he nods at you and pulls your panties back to their place.

You can tell he enjoys this, enjoys you and that precious cunt of yours. It's heaven.

Simon pulls your dress back down and stands up. In his free hand, he plays with the remote for the toy. Enjoy how you're already biting your lip to prevent any moans from escaping.

As he takes your hand and guides you out of the warmth of the flat you both shared, he turns to you. "No silly little games, you behave for me and that's it," he says in a demanding tone.

The elevator ride to the lobby almost ruined your chances of being fucked by him later. He knows this too, after all, he was the one playing with the intensity of the toy.

When you both reach the restaurant, he makes sure to sit towards the back. A private booth for just you both. A smirk on his as he watches you attempt to walk normally all as he pleasures your clit and cunt. "What's wrong, darling?" he says as he chuckles. Your grip on his hand tightens.

You can never last long when he's mean to you like this.

It became harder when ordering food, you stuttered, your mind blank as you tried to order. "And…drink…a..yeah–" you stutter, forgetting what you even want. "What drink, darling?" he taunts. "Just… ah…lemonade, just…a lemonade, please" you struggle but manage to contain any moans. The waiter nods and leaves.

"aww, is my darling forgetting her words? Is she that stupid, so early?" Simon laughs and lets his hand wander to your thigh. Those fingers of his lift the dress, letting his fingers dig inside so he can press the toy closer to your clit.

You shake your head and try to push his hand away, "be a good fucking girl," he demands and you nod.

during the dinner, the intensity of the toy would rise and just as it began to send waves of pleasure, he would turn the intensity down. With each passing moment, he found yourself pressing your thighs together to get more of the friction inside of you but he kept spreading your legs apart and promising to punish you.

Climaxing was so close at times. Your body feels closer to the edge. Nipples are hard as arousal gets better. Simon, being the man he is, presses his thumb over your panties, letting the slick of your cunt wet his finger. He chuckles, "eager, darling?" he says in a teasing tone. What a cruel man he was when it came to your orgasms. Not like you would complain, right? After all, good girls just allow it.

Your hips bucking to his touch and all he does is push you back down. Your lips pouty as you wish he would just take you to the restroom and fuck you senseless.

Your eyes close, legs begin to tremble, a knot forming inside of your stomach as you are about to release all that pent-up neediness from today. God, it feels good. The toy is deep enough to stimulate your pretty cunt. Your clit is pleased as well.

Just as you were about to let go, he stopped and pulled the toy out. You whine like a little kid Your hands roaming his chest and all he does is shake his head.

You were a good girl, weren't you? You didn't moan, didn't cause a scene, so why must he punish you now?

"Simon, please~" you whisper in his ear but all he does is shake his head. "Too bad, huh," he says and eats as if you weren't just about to climax.

"It sucks that when you're about to have the best orgasm it's taken from you. It's what happens when you stop giving me head to go and fucking talk to your friends, it's payback darling," he kisses the soft spot between your jaw and ear.

Being edged was perfect but not day, not when you needed to be fucked and played with. Not when you needed your pretty cunt ruined.

----

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[starhvney]

𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑: 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: blaze, garroth, gene, laurance

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your friend group has a certain game they like to play at your co-ed sleepovers–one that was exhilarating and full of tension. naturally, what’s a girl to do but use her wits and charm to win over the heart of the boy she’s playing with? and what if he’s the one pulling the strings all along?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: teens being teens, fluff and flirtyness, kissing and cooties! it’s implied that they’re dating the reader or at least have mutual crushes

𝐂𝐖: use of fake knives and nerf guns lol

𝐀/𝐍: erm..umm…hehe? bites lip

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“hey blaze, wanna go see something cool?” you ask suddenly, tilting your head and batting your eyelashes up at the tall werewolf.

he purses his lips, black ears twitching against his dark red curls. a suspicious hum leaves his lips for a moment as the rest of the group warily watches on.

“okay!” he goofily smiles, shrugging and following after you towards the house’s basement door.

“blaze… don’t fall for it.”

“but she’s such a trustworthy person!” he protests against the group’s warnings, beginning to follow you down the dim staircase.

you hold back a snort at his enthusiastic voice, wondering if he was playing up on his usual airheaded tendencies or if he really thought you weren’t going to kill him off from the game down here.

“the basement, definitely super romantic and cool and not suspicious at all!”

he definitely knew. you giggle as you make it to the end of the staircase, standing at the bottom as you awkwardly try to think of what you want to “show him” besides the plastic knife in your pocket.

“your laugh is usually cute, but when it’s so mischievous and in a dark basement it’s kind of creepy,” he shivers, backing up towards the stairs again. “actually… i just remembered i need to do something!”

“wait! you said i’m cute, right?” you snatch onto his flannel, dragging him back towards you—or rather dragging yourself towards his much heavier and unmoving body.

“yeah…”

“um… wanna… make out?”

“yeah!” he switches back to his himbo cheerfulness, very eagerly leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

you indulge him for a moment, before your puckered lips spread into an evil smile and you’re pressing the plastic knife into his abs. a disappointed sigh leaves his lips as he dramatically sinks down to the floor to play dead.

“not cool, you’re gonna leave me in the spooky basement?” he pouts, his fluffy tail laying flat on the ground.

“you’ll be fine,” you giggle, pressing one last kiss to his forehead and happily skipping up the stairs to finish the round. “see you later!”

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞!

“where is everyone…?” you trail, feeling uneasy as you look for all of the friends you were separated from. 

your search is interrupted when you hear footsteps rapidly approaching you across the grass of the backyard. 

despite knowing this was a silly game with friends, turning to see a six foot three beast of a werewolf sprinting at you with a plastic knife in hand was still a terrifying visual. you couldn’t help the terrified yelp that left your lips as you sprinted away from him, knowing your efforts were futile.

you’re caught up to within barely a few seconds, strong arms nearly crushing you as he scoops you up. a squeal leaves your lips as you cling onto his shirt, feeling your feet leave the ground.

“wait! wait!” you screech, heart racing as you catch your breath.

“nuh-uh,” he laughs.

you groan when you feel the knife firmly placed against your back, limply dangling in blaze’s arms.

“caught you.”

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

your arms boldly slink around garroth’s shoulders as you lean onto him from behind where he sat, your face snuggling up to the side of his cheek.

automatically he tenses up, eyelids narrowing as his vision darts over to you from the side of his eye. he mutters your name suspiciously, but one of his hands comes up to softly grab onto one of your arms.

“hey, garroth,” you whisper into his ear, holding back the amused giggle that fights to escape your lips. “i was just wishing a tall, hot blonde guy would go into the closet to make out with me…”

garroth sighs, his ears turning a bright red where your breath ghosted along the skin.

“you said that last time, and i died.”

you can tell he’s trying to make his voice monotonous and unimpressed, but the amused intonation at the end of his sentence tells another story. your chest presses against his back, and the breathy, mischievous laughter that exhales from your lungs shakes the both of you.

“no, i’m for real this time!”

“oh yeah, that sounds perfect,” he sarcastically quips back. “i’ll go with the girl trying to seduce me into the closet with no witnesses.”

“garroth… would i ever betray you in such a way?”

“you just did a couple rounds ago.”

“yeahhh,” you drawl out, placing a kiss on his cheek as you quickly place the knife over his heart and press down. “sorry.”

he sighs, slumping forward on the table to play dead.

“so cruel and heartless,” he jokingly pouts, and you have to restrain yourself from placing another kiss on his jutted lower lip.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞!

“garroth, i’m sorry. why don’t we hug it out?” you suggest, arms spread wide as you look up at the blonde expectantly.

he rolls his eyes, leaning down and tightly wrapping his arms around you. after a moment you pay his back, expecting to be let go, but realization hits you as it’s his turn to giggle at you. 

the light rumbling of his laughter vibrates against you, before you feel the plastic knife pressing right up against the small of your back.

you groan, going limp in his arms and leaning your head back as you sigh in light hearted annoyance.

“wowwww, okay.”

he continues to laugh, leaning over and letting you slink down to the floor before gently letting you rest on the ground.

“sorry,” he smiles, looking the least bit sorry before leaning down and placing a kiss against your lips.

“i’m so gonna haunt you.”

“i wouldn’t mind a pretty ghost following me around,” he smiles back, before getting back up and running off to finish his job.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“gene, wanna go make out?” you casually ask, smiling at the older boy cheekily and attempting to ignore the attractive look he stares back at you with.

his head falls back and he rolls his eyes, smirk plastered on his lips as he sighs in contemplation from where he sat.

“see, how am i supposed to refuse when you ask like that, though?”

“like what?” you tilt your head innocently, lacing your hands behind your back.

he pointedly stares at you through hooded eyes, before stretching up from his seat and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“alright, where are we going to make out?”

you shrug and guide him out of the house, passing a few people as you go.

“where are you two going?”

“to make out, apparently.”

“don’t tell me you’re falling for that.”

“it’ll be fine,” gene drawls, waving his hand as the two of you exit the house. “i have a feeling on how this is gonna end, but i’ll take my chances.”

“well, whoever’s the cop—be ready when she comes back alone,” you hear someone say as the door shuts behind you. 

you only take a few steps before turning around, pointing the knife at him with a small innocent smile on your face.

“damn, not even gonna give me a small chance at a kiss before you kill me?”

“so sorry,” you apologize emptily, the cheeky smile on your lips leaving when he leans forward into the knife, grabbing your face and devouring your lips for a moment with his own.

you blink at him in shock as he pretends to cough in pain, keeping forward into the ground and rolling onto his back to play dead.

“it’s alright, you will be later,” he smirks back, laying flat on the ground and staring up at the stars.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐩. 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!

finally! you found where your friends had been all round… only to see that they were all sprawled out on the floor, motionless. you take a cautious step into the room, slowly turning your head to the tall form standing in your peripheral.

you hear a few snickers from the ground as you and gene stare at each other, with your hands on your hips.

“well, it’s just us, huh?”

“yep.”

you don’t have enough time or a chance to pull out the gun, instead having to run away down the hall and through the back doors as he suddenly sprints after you.

“nooo! nonono, gene!” you call out, fumbling for the gun in your pocket as you run through the grass.

“why are you running?” he asks, the amused smile on his lips heard through his voice without even having to glance back. “don’t run from me.”

you point the gun back, shooting and missing the boy entirely, wasting your last bullet. one more stride and he catches up to you, knocking the gun out of your hand and restraining you against him with one arm in a single swoop. 

“wait! don’t!” you frantically scramble as he presses the knife up against your chest. “i will… um!”

“mhmmm…” he tauntingly hums, letting you continue.

“…go out? …with you?”

you whine as he presses the knife down against your chest, slumping over as he hunches over and slowly lets you down to the ground. deep laughter leaves his lips as he looks down at your pout, hands on his knees in amusement. 

“sorry, that’s not a good deal if you already do that, doll.”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐫. 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞.

“laurance, follow me,” you tug on his shirt, backing up as you try to lure him out of the room.

“i’m not falling for that, silly girl,” he leans down towards you, smirk plastered on his face. “where’s everyone else you walked off with, then. hm?”

“falling for what?” you follow him as he starts backing away from you and towards the door. “i just love you so much. i wanna show you!”

“uh-huh, right,” he nods, before turning and taking off outside into the cool night air.

“laurance! wait, let me show you!” you laugh hysterically. “i wanna show you how much i love you!”

“get away!” he laughs, using his soccer skills to dodge and run away from you in the grass.

you manage to catch him, jumping onto his back and using the momentum to tackle the both of you down to the soft grass. your legs straddle his torso as you both catch your breath, chests panting for air.

“now it’s just us…” you trail, dragging your index finger across his lower lip. 

you pull on it before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his lips, simultaneously plunging the fake knife against his chest.

“that was both terrifying and hot at the same time,” he breathes with a smug grin.

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐩. 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞!

“come on, you don’t trust me?” laurance tilts his head, pouting as you indecisively point your gun back and forth between him and katelyn—the rest of your friends laid out on the ground. “ouch, that hurts.”

katelyn stares at you with a deadpan expression. her and laurance have their arms raised in the air in surrender, leaving you as the one to make the game-settling decision.

“um…”

“don’t let him woo you, you’re better than this—“

“she went off with aphmau alone and now aphmau is dead!” laurance insists, leaning forward towards you. “it’s obviously her, be smart. you’re smart.”

“um… i’m sorry katelyn!” you apologize, sending a bullet out toward katelyn’s stomach.

she laughs with a groan as she sinks to the ground. you come to the realization that you, in fact, made the wrong decision when nobody else gets up, leaving you and laurance at a standstill.

“…i’m out of bullets.”

“you better run…” someone mutters with a snort on the ground.

strings of shouts and scared curses leave your lips as you take off down the hallway, searching for any bullets to use now that you’ve cornered yourself at one end of the house.

“oh no!” you yelp, socks sliding as you land against a wall, laurance’s hands trapping you in before you can scramble anywhere else.

“hey,” he jokingly bites his lip, staring at you with faux seduction.

you sigh dramatically. “just kill me.”

he giggles, stabbing you with the knife before placing a kiss against your cheek.

“hey, it’s not your fault my charm works so well—“

“shut up.”

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.