#preferably Eddie standing up to his parents

[distractionpie]

i really want the 8b finale to be Eddie getting his ass in gear re: making moves to bring Christopher home, but barring that, I could also get behind Christopher to upgrading from uber to get his ass on a flight back to LA just to call his dad out for letting half a year pass without fighting for him to come back and yell misguided accusations that Eddie doesn't care and is glad to be rid of him. Of course Eddie said all that stuff about being able to come back at any time but since then he's been all forced supportive cheeriness on calls and not giving any sign that he wants Chris home.

We the audience know it's Eddie's self loathing but Chris is 14 and old enough to do the math on being an unplanned/unwanted pregnancy, and his dad left for the army and then his mom left completely (and then came back but then was gone again anyway). We've seen Chris verbalise the worry that he's part of what makes Eddie sad when Eddie was struggling with his trauma, and then when things semed like they were going good Eddie pulls moves like going after Kim which show that he's not happy with how his life turned out, and it would be easy for teenage Chris to see himself as the biggest part of Eddie's life that he didn't choose and can't get away from. Plus it would be so Helena to let slip a few comments about how Eddie never wanted to be father and ran from it until he couldn't anymore. how it was only his pride that meant he didn't just give Christopher to them like he should have in the first place.

It would be easy for Christopher to start dwelling on those pieces more than the fact Eddie said he could come back anytime, to build up this narrative in his head where maybe it is better for everyone if he's in Texas (even if he misses his dad all the time at the same time as being mad at him) but also he's so mad about it and mad about the percieved dishonesty that he just has to confront Eddie (and in doing so finally force some more mature conversations about their family trauma)

[dearhargrove]

Please pls pls write for Eddie Diaz🥺

Sleepover

Eddie Diaz x reader

summary You're on the way to pick up your son, Liam, but it's hard to get him to go home when he's begging to sleepover at his new friends house. Turns out you don't mind as much when you met said kid and his dad.

word count 995

tags fluff, reader simping over Eddie, kind of open ending

a/n I got this idea randomly so I hope you like this <3

part two

masterlist

“Liam!” You call out when you spot your eight year old son busy playing with another kid. Usually whenever he heard you he'd come running; with every year he turns older you expect his clinging to reduce but it never does. Not like you mind, he may be eight now but he's still your baby.

But today he just glances and waves before continuing to giggle and talk with his new friend.

You're surprised as he usually never stuck with one kid, most of the time he'd even stay by himself. It worried you, even when you figured he just preferred to be by himself and did it by choice and not because he was left out.

One of the teachers at the side shrugs with a smile after seeing Liam and his new friend.

You approach them and put a hand on Liams back before bending down and kissing the top of his head. “Hey, buddy. Did you make a new friend?”

He grins and nods eagerly, “Chris! We've been playing all day. He's my best friend!” You chuckle at the eager introduction and wave at Chris, who looked almost shy if not for the cute grin.

“Well in that case, it's nice to meet you, Chris.” He politely holds out his hand, “It's nice to meet you too, ma'am.” He says quietly and slowly. You melt on the spot and gently shake his hand.

Your son stands up quick enough to knock the top of his head into your chin, leaving you to grunt in pain as he excitedly bounces in his spot. “I have to sleepover at Chris' house!”

Your eyebrows raise as the two boys continue making plans about tonight. You don't want to be the killjoy but for one you had never met the other parents nor had they met you. Otherwise you would've easily agreed; you were just happy Liam had finally made a friend.

“Alright, boys, I'm afraid this won't work out… We don't even know if Chris parents are going to agree,” you say and pointedly look at your son who's about to pout (you couldn't resist him and you would not let him make you feel bad about making a reasonable decision).

“My dad will say yes. He always says yes.” Chris says seriously and pushes his glasses up with his index. You smile as both of them look at you with equally big, pleading eyes.

“I will say yes to what?”

You almost give yourself whiplash with how fast you turn around because whose voice is that sexy? You'd never heard anyone talking that attractive.

And surely when you look at him you basically faint. Brown hair that seemed to be a grown out buzz cut, brown eyes and white teeth with a grin that makes your heart actually stop for a second.

“Sleepover!” Liam yells and then turns shy when the man looks at him with a smile that should be illegal to look that good. “A sleepover? That sounds exciting.” He gets even more attractive in your eyes when he leans over and kisses Chris’ head in greeting. So he was great with kids too? Wow.

He then fixes his gaze on you and you do everything in your power not to fluster as he rakes his eyes over you and back up to look right into yours. “Hey, I'm Eddie. Chris is my son.” He extends his hand and you shake it before remembering to introduce yourself as well.

He smiles at you through it and if it wasn't for Liam gently clinging to your hand as he and Chris watch you and Eddie talk you'd have actually lost it.

“So these two want to have a sleepover?” The boys both yell in agreement and you laugh, shushing your son a bit. Eddie looks at you with a questioning look and you shrug your shoulders. He had something trustful about him and with the way he acted with both the kids he already checked a few boxes.

But still, this was your son and you wouldn't leave him overnight with - practically - a stranger.

“My dad is a firefighter, he will protect us.” Chris mentions and you look at Eddie in surprise. He chuckles a bit bashfully but nods, “I'm with the 118.” You hum in recognition, “I work at the dispatch center.” He looks surprised now and you chuckle as he comments, “That's a coincidence.”

After that conversation flows easy and after probably fifteen minutes is Liam who pulls your sleeve with an impatient pout. You coo and pick him up with ease, letting him wrap his arms around your neck as he sleepily rests against you.

“Chris is clingy too, I feel like I shouldn't be indulging him so much, but…” Eddie starts and you see him ruffling Chris’ hair with a fond look as the boy looks at his dad with pure adoration.

“It's hard to resist. Yeah, same here.” You hum and both of you laugh a bit.

The teacher takes note of both the kids being picked up and you start walking to the parking lot after getting the backpacks. Chris is on crutches you note and slow your steps for him to comfortably keep up.

“Sleepover?” Liam asks again after - you were quite sure - a nap. Eddie tilts his head and looks at you, giving you the chance to decide.

Wow. So far he's more than just a green flag.

“How about we do a few meet ups first?” You suggest and both boys groan but ultimately agree.

Eddie nods and after letting Chris into the car he turns back to you and holds out his phone with a small smile, “Just so we can, you know, organize their play dates.”

Your heart actually stops for a second before resuming twice as fast and you take his phone to put your contact in.

“I'll see you around.” You smile and wave, Eddie grinning too as he waves and gets in the car.

[urhoneycombwitch]

oh my god…… art teacher!eddie who works with 3rd graders. and he’s every bit as kooky as he was in high school but now all that energy has someplace to go- zipping after a classroom of young kids all day, joyfully instilling fine art skills such as melting down wax to make zombie-crayons into the young minds of Hawkins.

Mr. Eddie (though he’d prefer to drop the Mr altogether, since he’s still young enough to remember the annoyance of formalities) is known as the safe space teacher- anytime someone wanted to eat lunch in his classroom they were more than welcome. He might even tell you a cool story about his old D&D group.

one day there’s this new student in class, a real quiet kid that doesn’t come out of his shell easily- Eddie quickly finds out this kid has a natural talent for painting. he’s barely 8 and has an incredible sense of light and dark, depth perception, all that fancy crap Eddie learned words for in art school.

the kid- Jake- stays after class Tuesday to help clean palettes. Eddie tries to sound nonchalant, elbow deep in soap suds as he asks, “So where’d you learn to paint like that?”

Jake, on a step stool at the closest sink, turns off his tap and shrugs. “My mom’s a painter. She used to paint a lot when she was pregnant with me. I think I’m blessed.”

Eddie chuckles heartily. “That’s one way to put it, kid.”

On the first teacher-parent night of the school year, Eddie in smart slacks and his black-rimmed glasses stands up in front of the classroom to introduce himself to all the parents.

His eyes fall to Jake, near the back row of desks, and tracks up from the manicured hand on Jake’s shoulder to- you.

Eddie’s instantly transported back to his second year of art college, falling in love with the painter girl across the hall. He still has that portrait you did of him with oil pastels, the size of a postcard. It’s the only time he’s ever liked a recreation of himself, photographs included.

You still had the same soft smile, the same eyes that lit up in recognition at the same time as he did.

Mr. Munson stumbles through the rest of his speech, and releases everyone to explore the room much sooner than he planned.

With a nervousness that he hasn’t felt in years, Eddie (after confirming you’re a single mom now) asks you to dinner. You accept, with a smile that makes his heart thrum, and a few moments later he’s one spectacular phone number richer.

[xiaq]

Part 1 Here

Prompts combined for Pt. 2 are : Outsider POV, Steve Harrington is an idiot (affectionate), Wayne Finds Out, and Everyone is Queer Because I Said So.

Wayne Munson knows he’s not the best parental figure. He never liked kids. Never wanted kids. And he nearly said no when the social worker called asking if he wanted to take guardianship of his thirteen-year-old nephew. Because surely there was someone better suited. Except then the social worker told him why Eddie had been removed from his father’s care. About the magazines Eddie’s father had found in Eddie’s backpack that preceded him kicking Eddie out. About the fights Eddie had been getting into at school. About the song lyrics his temporary foster had found in his journal. And suddenly Wayne wasn’t so sure there was a better option. He knew there had to be people more equipped to raise a traumatized queer teenager, but there was no guarantee Eddie would end up with one of them. The opposite was far more likely. Wayne knew firsthand that much of the world was unkind to people like them.

In the years that follow, they don’t talk about it. He figured once he’d won the kid’s trust, Eddie would bring it up in his own time. Or maybe Eddie would ask why Wayne spends a weekend in Indy once a month or maybe ask who he’s spending the weekends with. But somehow those conversations never happen and Wayne doesn’t force them. 

It’s not until he finds Steve Fucking Harrington keeping vigil at Eddie’s hospital bedside that he thinks maybe he should have pushed the issue sooner. 

Because Harrington looks like he’s been through a war. He’s covered in blood and grime; only his arms, washed to his elbows where he’s holding Eddie’s hand, are clean. He’s looking at Eddie with naked emotion. And, perhaps most damning, he’s wearing Eddie’s battle jacket.

When Wayne enters the room, Harrington startles and says, “Hi. I’m Steve Harrington,” like Wayne and everyone else in Hawkins weren’t already aware of that.

“I know who you are. I know who your father is, too.”

“I’d uh, prefer you didn’t hold that against me.”

Wayne makes no promises. “How do you know Eddie?”

“We’re…friends,” Steve says. There’s a continent of things unsaid behind the word.

“And how are you in his room past visiting hours?”

“I bribed the nurse," he admits. “I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“Well. On that, we’re agreed. But I’m here now. And no offense, kid, but you look like you should be in one of these beds yourself.”

“Yeah. I told them once you got here I’d let them stitch me up. It’s not anything life-threatening.” He says this with the resigned intonation of someone who is familiar with the difference.

What the fuck has Eddie gotten himself involved in?

Harrington stands. It’s a slow, painful, movement, and he only lets go of Eddie’s hand at the last possible second. “Can I—I’d like to come back. After. If you don’t mind.”

Wayne considers him. He considers Eddie’s blood-smeared vest on the kid’s shoulders. He realizes, belatedly, that Eddie’s guitar pick necklace is hanging around Harrington’s bruised throat, the rings usually crammed onto Eddie’s fingers lined up on either side of the pick.

“Sure,” he says. “Be nice to have some company. And you can tell me what the hell happened.”

Harington sighs. “Not sure how much I’m allowed to tell. Or how much you’ll believe. But I can try.”

Wayne takes his place holding Eddie’s hand.

He tries to ignore the fact that Harrington stands in the doorway for more than a minute, just looking, before finally slipping into the hall.

He’s back a few hours later, clearly showered, wrapped in gauze, and wearing the preppiest goddamn outfit. Honestly, Wayne can’t fathom how Eddie and Harrington have anything in common. He’s also still wearing the necklace, though. And when he pulls up a chair to sit on the opposite side of Eddie’s bed, he removes the necklace and carefully, downright tenderly, returns the rings to Eddie’s fingers. Wayne notices, almost despite himself, that Harrington isn’t just guessing at the placement, either. He knows. So either he’s intimately familiar with Eddie’s fingers––something that, as impossible as it sounds, is starting to seem more and more likely––or he’s particularly observant. And that kind of observance speaks to its own sort of devotion. 

Wayne isn’t excited about either of these options.

He’s trying to figure out how to ask if Steve Fucking Harrington is Eddie’s boyfriend without scaring him away when Eddie shifts, which has Wayne and Steve both jumping to their feet.

“Wayne?” he murmurs. And Wayne isn’t one for emotional displays but he finds himself participating in one for the next few minutes nonetheless.

Once he gets ahold of himself, Eddie’s head turns, slow with painkillers, to see Harrington.

“Stevie,” he says, grinning. “Hey. I’m not dead.”

“Despite your best efforts,” Steve chokes out. His hands are fisted under his armpits and he looks about five seconds away from crying. Not that Wayne can judge since he’s more than five seconds into crying.

“What did I tell you, what did you promise?” Harrington snarls.

Eddie’s grin dims. “Not to be a hero. But Dustin––shit. Dustin. Is he...”

“Fine. Sprained ankle. Pissed as hell at you. Everyone else is fine too. Max is down the hall. She has some broken bones but she’ll be alright.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs. “How did I—“

“We went back for you.”

“We?”

“I,” Harrington grits out. “I went back for you. Thought you were dead. Carried you back anyway. Didn’t realize you were still breathing until we got you in the car. Drove like hell to the hospital.”

And that’s. Well, shit. Apparently, Wayne is going to need to temper his distrust of this particular Harrington. Because it sounds like he saved Eddie’s goddamn life.

“He also refused treatment and waited with you until I got here,” Wayne feels he has to add. “Despite the fact he was bleeding everywhere.”

Eddie glances between them, eyes huge. “Shit. I’m sorry. Hey, no, don’t––”

Steve is crying now, not even trying to hide it, and Eddie holds out a hand, wincing. “Come here, man, I’m fine. Or I’ll probably be fine, right?”

“So says the doctor,” Wayne agrees. 

Steve doesn’t need a second invitation.

He all but collapses, carefully, into Eddie’s outstretched arms, and Eddie’s hands bunch into the fabric of Steve’s sweatshirt and he crams his face into Steve’s neck and they’re so––their obvious, desperate, affection for each other is so unapologetic that Wayne has to look away.

 It’s not until later, when they’ve hashed out the basics of the insane upside-down phenomenon, that they finally convince Steve to go home and sleep.

He waits ten seconds after the door has closed to exhale, pressing his palms into his eyes.

“Jesus, kid. I knew you had expensive taste with cigarettes and guitars but this? He’s the closest thing to royalty this town has.”

Eddie lets out a hysterical little warble of a laugh. “No. No, no. That’s not—we’re not.”

“What the hell are you then?”

“Friends. Bonded through extreme trauma.”

“But you’d like to be more than friends.”

Eddie looks at him askance “I’ll take what I can get and I won’t ask for more,” he says quietly.

Unfortunately, Wayne is well familiar with that kind of love. He just can’t get Steve’s expression out of his head. The gentle way he’d replaced Eddie’s rings. He doesn’t think Eddie’s interest is as one-sided as Eddie does. But he doesn’t want to meddle. He’s certain they’ll figure themselves out.

Two months later, Wayne is starting to think they’re both idiots. Because half the time when he gets home from his evening bar shift––a new job after the plant disappeared into the fiery abyss––Steve’s BMW is parked down the street and when he cracks Eddie’s bedroom door he finds them cuddled up, asleep. Sometimes he’ll go to rent a movie and Steve will be wearing a shirt that Wayne knows is Eddie’s and half the time when he wakes Eddie up in the mornings he’s wearing a pastel sweater monogrammed with initials that don’t belong to Eddie. He’d think they’re together and keeping it quiet if not for the fact that Eddie is driving him absolutely insane with pining. He’s written three songs about longing and heartbreak in the last two weeks and if Wayne has to listen to one more wailing ballad he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

He’s walking back from the bar after closing, only a mile from the new fancy trailer the government had installed for them when he passes Harrington’s conspicuous vehicle a few houses down. He sighs. The boy really has no sense of subtly. 

He’s expecting to find them, as usual, asleep in a tangle of limbs, except when he reaches the porch stairs, he can hear the boys talking.

He pauses with his hand on the railing.

“What are you doing,” Eddie murmurs, voice just carrying from the open living room window.

“Well. I’d like to kiss you, if you’d let me.”

About damn time, Wayne thinks.

“Steve, wait,” Eddie says. And it’s so quiet, so uncertain, that Wayne is tempted to open the door right then if only to prevent Ed from sounding so broken.

“I can’t be a practice run for you,” Eddie says, “Please. I can’t. I wouldn’t survive that.”

“A––what the fuck, Eddie.”

“It’s just, I know this is new to you and I’m, obviously, all about exploration and, um, finding yourself. Congratulations. Yay. But I can’t be an experiment. Not with you. I can’t.”

“You’re not an experiment,” Harrington says, voice a little louder than Wayne would prefer, given the circumstances. The trailer park isn’t exactly spacious. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I want to kiss you because I’m in love with you, how could you think—besides. This isn’t that new. I’ve kissed other guys.”

“You’ve what? Who? When?”

“Just. You know. Friends messing around. I didn’t know that made me bisexual until I talked about it with Robin but apparently, I’ve been kinda gay this whole time.”

“I’m sorry. You thought making out with your basketball buddies was…a standard heterosexual pastime?”

“Well, when you say it like that.”

“What other way is there to say it?”

“Okay,” Steve says, “I already had this conversation with Robin this morning. I don’t need to rehash it again. So I’m a little bit of an idiot. Memo received.”

“Jesus, Harrington. You just found out bisexuality was a thing this morning and now you’re here, what, asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“I mean, yeah. Ideally.”

“You don’t do anything by halves, do you.” Eddie sounds disgustingly fond.

“Eddie. I just said I love you.”

“You did,” Eddie says, high and cracked. “You did say that.”

“So if we could refocus.”

“Right.”

“I don’t expect you to say it back, but––”

“God, you really are an idiot. Of course I fucking love you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then that’s––well, that’s probably his nephew getting his first kiss from Steve Fucking Harrington.

Wayne decides to give them to a count of thirty before interrupting, but just as he’s about to stomp his way up the stairs, Eddie says, “Sorry, sorry, I’ve never done this before.”

“Hey, no. It’s ok. Neither have I, really. But you’re crazy if you think I’m going to fuck you right now,” Steve says.

“I meant kissing. Hold on, does that mean you would be willing to fuck me later?”

Wayne winces. There are things he does not need to hear come out of his nephew’s mouth.

“Wait,” Steve interrupts, “You’ve never been kissed before? How is that possible?”

“Who would have kissed me?” Eddie hisses, “ I’m the town pariah. And until I met Robin I didn’t know any other queer people existed in Hawkins. Though apparently, I should have just joined the basketball team since you’re having orgies or whatever.”

“The first two were on the swim team,” Steve says. 

“First two. How many were there?”

Steve ignores him. “And that wasn’t––you’re so hot, though. And your band has played in bigger cities. Haven’t you ever gone up to Indy to any of the bars there?”

“I need you to understand,” Eddie says, “that I am 90% bravado and 100% anxiety.”

“That’s not how percentages work.”

“Steve.”

“Sorry. Okay. Well, if this is your first kiss then I better make it good, huh?”

“Yes. That is absolutely the burden placed upon your capable shoulders should you choose to––oh.”

Eddie stops talking and doesn’t start again, though he does make a breathy little noise that Wayne takes as his cue.

He stomps up the stairs as loudly as possible, fumbling longer than necessary with the door handle, and pushes his way inside.

The boys are both shirtless, clearly in the process of shoving themselves away from each other. Eddie’s face is pink and his lips are kiss-swollen and Harrington’s back has a set of welted scratches on it that Wayne imagines are a perfect match for Eddie’s fingers.

“Well, shit,” Wayne says. He definitely should have opened the door sooner.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Eddie says.

“What the fuck else what it be?” Steve says, only sounding a little hysterical.

Except then the kid is pushing Eddie behind him and squaring up to Wayne with his jaw clenched and his head high, the discolored ring around his neck, still not yet healed, the scars down his belly, on display. Wayne is well-acquainted with the nuance of a man posturing versus a man who would gladly throw himself into a fight, even one he’s not certain he’d win. Steve Harrington is indisputably the latter.

Wayne can’t decide if he’s offended or endeared.

“Stand down, kid, I’m not going to hurt him.”

“I wouldn’t let you.” 

“That is…extremely apparent.”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “It’s ok. He knows. Or. We’ve never really talked about it but.” He meets Wayne’s eyes. “He knows. It’s ok.”

Eddie pushes around him, stepping into Wayne’s open arms.

Steve watches distrustfully as Wayne wraps Eddie in a hug.

“You’re both safe here,” he says. Mostly to Steve, since he’s the one who needs to hear it. “And I’ll call up my boyfriend in Indy and have him vouch for me if you don’t believe me.”

Harrington’s expression is just as magnificent as Wayne hoped it would be.

“Your what?” Eddie shrieks.

Part 3 Here.

On AO3 Here.

Tempted to do one more from one of the kid's POVs when the kids find out. Thoughts?

[rainylana]

“Just say that one day you will.”

Dad!Eddie Munson x mom!reader

summary: a short fic about eddie and reader as parents to patty munson:)

warnings: allusions to eddie having a “past life”, mentions of having self doubts as a parent. i think that’s it?? let me know if i missed anything!

He’s covered in food, spit up. Probably pee, too. His head hurts from his hair being pulled. His stomach aches from not having time to eat. He’s exhausted. He never realized how much you had taken on being a mother until you went back to work at the newspaper office. He didn’t know how you did. How flawless you made it look. Motherhood suited you, and as much as he loved his baby, he wasn’t sure if he looked as graceful handling it all like you did.

“Come on, baby, eat something for daddy, huh?” His voice is soft, eyes wide and whimsical, hoping he can trick his daughter into taking her bottle. “If you’re cranky when mommy gets home that means mommy will be cranky. Mommy’s scary when she’s cranky, yes she is.” His using his baby voice, putting the top of the bottle to little Patty Munson’s lips.

It’s clear to him that she’s not hungry, even though it’s past her time to eat. She’s refused to go down for a nap, crying every time he’s put her down or left the room to use the bathroom. Eddie sighs, putting down the bottle on the table and leaning back into the couch. He holds her on his lap, the seventh month old staying upright by his arms. She smiles, making him laugh.

“Yeah, you think it’s funny watching me struggle, huh?” He wiggles his brows at her. “You just want held, don’t ya?”

Patty was going through another one of her phases where she couldn’t be alone, never wanting to be without mom or dad. She always needed to be in their arms, preferably mommy’s. “Well, I don’t have a problem with that.” He lifts her up and gives her a kiss on the nose.

She’s the carbon copy of him. Dark curls and brown eyes, pale skin and a birthmark on her right shoulder, same place as her dad’s. He worries one day she’ll be just like him. His older now, and when he looked back on his childhood, he felt guilty for worrying Wayne the way he did. He hoped he could raise his daughter to have more sense than he did growing up.

When five o’clock rolled around, Eddie had managed to get the house moderately straightened up. It was difficult with a baby attached to his hip. The dishes were done and the bed was made. Halfway through he had put her in the playpen, only to take her out when she had a meltdown. He nearly broke his neck running back to her.

“Oh, baby.” He nearly fell to his knees when you walked through the door.

“How’s my baby!” You smiled, running to lift your daughter from his arms. She was flailing her little limbs, squealing and laughing joyfully at the sight of you.

“I’m okay.” Eddie’s arm relaxes from the absent weight, the numbness running down his arm that he tries to shake out. “A little tired.”

You laugh at him, giving kiss after kiss to Patty’s cheeks. She’s giggling, drooling all over her red and white dress that was covered in food stains.

“Hi, baby.” You smile and turn toward him, kissing his cheek lovingly. “Rough day?”

“What makes you say that?” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “House is still standing, isn’t it?”

You sit on the couch, holding Patty on your lap. Eddie sits down beside you, relaxing into the couch cushions.

You smile affectionately, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. “Honey, are you sure you’re able to do this? I can take off work for a few more weeks if you need me to.”

“No, no, I’ve got it, babe.” He puts his other hand over yours. “I do. Promise. You did your part. Carried her for nine months and spent another six taking care of her. You need a social life to, y/n. It’s time I do my part.” He smiled at you lovingly, meaningfully.

“We’re finally at a place where money isn’t a problem,” He continues. “I want you to be happy and have a job you love. I don’t mind taking off work for awhile. Wayne and Gareth got the Job okay.”

Your emotions are flooding through you, causing you to get choked up inside. You sigh, laying your cheek on the dark curls of Patty’s head. “I am happy, Eddie. You have no idea how happy I am.”

He always chuckled when you said that, because he did. Eyes flickering between his now sleeping baby, cuddled into your chest, he rolls his eyes. “Now, she wants to sleep. I’ve been trying to get her to nap all day!”

You pat her back and smile happily, kissing the top of her head. “God, I love her so much.” You say quietly. “Isn’t it crazy? Loving her as much as you do? Sometimes I think my hearts going to explode.”

He never knew he could love someone as much as his daughter. When he met you, he never thought his love could go any further than that, but it was like his heart grew and made room for the both of you. It connected you, having Patty together. It made you closer than you could’ve ever imagined.

“I know what you mean.” His fingers squeeze her socked foot. “Sometimes I lay awake at night and just worry about all the things that could happen. I think that’s why I’m tired all the time.” He chuckles softly.

You understood that, too, nodding as you lean back into the couch pillow. He moved over to you, careful to not wake up Patty, and lays his head against your shoulder. “Thank you for giving me this life. I don’t deserve either of you.”

“Yes, you do.” You blink tiredly, looking down at his bushel of curls. “You deserve happiness, Eddie. I wish you believed me.”

He truly believed he didn’t. Though he was not the same man he once was, he had gone through his life a thief and cheating man, a liar and a conman. The things he had done haunted him at night, but you assured him he had done the things he needed to do to survive.

“One day,” He looks up at you, nose barely an inch apart. “I’ll make you my wife.”

You start to blush, eyes prickling at the sides. God, you were so happy. “Really?”

“Just say that one day you will be.” He whispers, glancing at your lips briefly. “Promise me you’ll be my wife.”

You sniffle and choke on a sob, smiling at him through your lashes. “I promise.”

[absurdthirst]

Right Hand Man {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.8k

Warnings: 1920s AU, mentions of arranged marriage, domestic abuse, masturbation, voyeurism, infidelity, cuckolding, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male receiving), pregnancy, childbirth, fighting, death

Comments: Positioned as your husband's right hand man, Dave watches. Knowing you are unhappy and you want him. Waiting until the time is right for him to make his move.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

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You sigh as you look across the dining room to your husband. The man you’ve been married to for three years. It feels like an eternity. The table is almost as long, positioning you on the opposite side so you have to practically shout to speak to him. He prefers that, you suppose, so he can have his peace and quiet. He’s a rich man, focused on business and not silly little things like books and art and poetry. None of your interests are his interests yet you married him because you were forced. Your parents arranged the marriage to him and you had to go along with it. In this day and age, a girl can’t afford to go it alone. You sip on your wine, expensive, of course. So expensive the dust needed to be wiped off of the bottle. Yet you barely notice the heady taste of it as your eyes flick over to the man sitting next to your husband at the other end of the dining table. David York. Dave, to your husband and those close to him. Your husband’s right hand man in business and the man you think about when your husband is inside of you.

Talking about business over dinner is never Dave’s favorite thing, but it keeps him occupied. Keeping him from glancing down to the end of the table to where you sit. He shouldn’t want you, shouldn’t know every time you lift the wine glass to your lips. Too many times, in his opinion. He shouldn’t hear the soft sigh that seems to reach only his own ears. You are a wife, the wife to, technically, his boss. He shouldn’t want you, but he does and he ignores it just like he has from the moment your husband brought you home to this elaborately overdone mansion to be a virtual prisoner.

You sigh again as Dave completely avoids looking at you. You know he’s loyal to your husband, Edward, but you can’t help imagining him losing control and taking you as his own. It’s what fuels you on lonely nights when dear Eddie is out fucking every whore within a ten mile radius. Any floozy who likes sparkly things. Like damn magpies. You were hurt when you were first married, now you’re just glad they do the job that is supposed to be yours. Outsourcing is what you affectionately call it when trying to preserve your dignity around the other wives when Edward takes you to the country club. Edward has fucked you, of course he has, in his desperate bid for an heir but you’ve been successful to avoid getting pregnant. Using every old wives tale to avoid it, you’ve been successful thus far. Although it’s a special occasion if Eddie does try to fuck you. Usually he’s too occupied with his work or his whores. You down the rest of your wine and stand up, bringing the eyes of the men at the other end of the table to you. “I’m going to bed.” You announce and Eddie doesn’t say anything as his eyes turn back to his papers.

Dark eyes fixed on you, noticing the pretty shade of lipstick you are wearing is wine smudged. Making it look like you’ve been thoroughly kissed. He clenches his jaw at how dismissively your husband treats you, but it’s not for nothing when Eddie murmurs his name. “Escort my wife to her room.” He suggests dismissively, even though it’s not a suggestion. For some strange reason, Eddie wanted you escorted through a home that was also supposed to be yours, but Dave doesn’t ignore the opportunity to spend a few moments with you. “Of course.” He nods and stands, buttoning his suit jacket before walking down to your end of the table.

Your heart pounds as Dave walks past you to open the house and you stumble slightly as you make your way past him and down the hall. Dave walks silently beside you, walking in front of you as you head upstairs to your quarters, and you admire his broad shoulders in his well tailored suit. Opening the door to your bedroom - Eddie has his own suite on the other side of the house - you walk in and turn to look at Dave, "thank you for escorting me back to my room." You say, biting your wine stained lips as the man stands there quietly. You wonder what's going through his mind and you desperately want to break him. To see if he feels the same way you do. The fact that you want to rip that suit off and make him moan your name. He's dangerous and that makes you want him even more, the capability he exudes. You decide to play with fire, reaching for the zipper of your dress as you pull it down, letting your dress slip from your body to pool at your feet, displaying the stockings, garter belt, and bra that are keeping you together beneath the expensive flapper dress that is all the style nowadays.

Every muscle in Dave’s body tightens and he wants nothing more than to jump on you. To devour you whole and make you scream his name while he pounds into you. Still, he shows no outward emotion. He can’t right now. He would lose his advantage and there were still pieces he was moving around the board. “Goodnight, Mrs. Holt.” He inclines his head respectfully and turns around to exit the room, thankful that his suit is cut in a way to hide the semi he’s sporting.

You stare at the door he closes behind him and you inhale sharply. You feel embarrassed and then the anger hits you. You offered yourself on a plate and he won’t touch you. You’ve only ever been with Edward, a deal made by your parents and his when you were a teenager. A deal you never had a say in. You were married off to Eddie as soon as you completed finishing school. Huffing, you decide to get ready for bed and form a plan to seduce David York.

Dave strides back into the dining room to find your husband moving towards his office. “I’m going to go to the club.” He tells Dave and he knows that your husband is actually going to his mistress’s townhouse. He doesn’t know if you are aware of it, but Eddie has taken to an actress and bought her a townhouse to keep her in town. It’s nothing that would probably surprise you, but it’s not Dave’s place to talk to him about his deplorable behavior. If Dave had a wife like you, he would never leave your bed. You would be in his room, it would be shared. Instead of telling him that he needs to stay home and pay you some attention, he nods. “Very well, I will forego my own plans this evening to keep an eye on things here.” He tells Eddie.

You slide into your bed, the silk sheets are luxurious but what good is luxury when you are in a gilded prison? Many would ask why you wouldn't try to leave. You have. You have told Eddie many times that you want to divorce him, to let him be the playboy he is without you waiting on him, but all that got you was a slap around the face. He told you that the only way you'd be leaving him would be in a casket. You nursed your bruised skin and carried on, trying to conceal the pain both inside and outside. Dave has been your only solace, granting you a glimpse into what could be. What you'd want if you weren't trapped in this marriage. You sigh, tossing in your bed, until you decide to get a drink to calm yourself down. Sliding into your robe and slippers, you make your way downstairs to the kitchen. The staff have all retired for the night so you appreciate the quiet as you enter the ornate kitchen to get a glass of water.

Sitting at the kitchen table, used by the staff. Dave sits with a bottle of scotch and a crystal glass. Even though his boss is a piece of shit, his wealth afforded a lot of luxuries that Dave had never known existed. He didn’t have the luxury of being born into the class that you and Eddie lived in. Dave had been born in the slums, scrapping and fighting from a small age for survival. It has served him, while he still was on the darker side of morality, he has risen from his humble roots. Sitting in a wealthy man’s kitchen, drinking his expensive liquor before sleeping in silk sheets. He stares at the amber liquid in the glass, wondering when he had stopped enjoying these things.

Your eyes widen as you see Dave sitting there sipping on what looks like scotch. “I didn’t expect you to still be here. I’m guessing Eddie has gone to see one of his whores?” You ask as you grab a glass and pour yourself some water. Dave’s dark eyes meet yours and you see the answer there. “Well, at least I have some peace and quiet.” You sigh and lean against the kitchen counter as you take a gulp of the water. “You’re still here? To babysit me?” You snort, “or you don’t have a home to go to?”

Dave’s stare at you is narrow, his eyes dark before he looks away. Down at his drink again. “Why drink at home when I can drink this for free?” He asks sarcastically, draining the rest of the scotch and pouring another two fingers. “I’ve got a room here.” He reminds you.

You nod, “yes. You’re the one who can come and go. Me? I’m trapped here.” You down the rest of your water and set the glass on the counter. “I was thinking about throwing a party. We haven’t had one for a while. Get the champagne flowing and Eddie can invite his girls right under my nose.” You chuckle humorlessly, “and I can get drunk and wallow in my self pity.” You sigh dramatically, “unless someone decides to distract me from my turmoil.” You say, undoing your robe and you stare at Dave for a moment, wanting to offer him another chance now that Eddie is gone.

It’s tempting. Fuck, he just knows you would melt under his touch. You’re innocent and it’s very telling that Eddie doesn’t talk about you like he does his other women. He likes that you’re nearly pure. Dave can tell you want to explore and do filthy things. “Choose someone I don’t like.” Dave grunts, making you frown. “Why is that?” You huff. Dave holds his glass up to the light and examines the liquor inside. “Because I’ll have to break the fingers of whoever touches you.”

Your eyes widen and your stomach clenches with arousal at the dark look in his eyes. You know he’s saying it because Eddie would kill anyone that touched you and he discovered it. Especially since he’s growing desperate for an heir to his estate. “Eddie’s right hand man protecting what belongs to his boss.” You snort, “of course.” You scoff and shake your head, “goodnight, David.” You make your way out of the kitchen, tying your robe as you slink back to your bedroom, embarrassment swirling in your gut as you put yourself on a platter for the man again and he refused to touch you. You’ll plan a party. That will distract you from wanting a man that doesn’t want you back.

Dave hisses after you leave the kitchen. Reaching down and adjusting the way his now hard cock is pressing against his trousers. Your nightgown was silky and thin, giving him no illusions and paired with the image of you in your undergarments has him throbbing. “Damnit.” He murmurs, wishing that he was in a position to do what he wants, but he’s not there yet.

****

The party you planned is in full swing. Eddie greets the guests with a champagne toast before the band begins to play and the swinging jazz is loud enough to echo through the estate. You sip your champagne, the tassels of your dress swinging as you sway to the music. You feel happy for the first time in weeks since Dave’s rejection and you’ve kept to yourself since that night, avoiding the man and your husband with experienced precision. Eddie is already off with Jasmine Parker, a socialite who you know is already vying for your position as Mrs. Holt and you are tempted to make it easy for her to take your place but Eddie would never allow it. Your parents are one of the founding families and he wants your status as his crowning glory on his empire. You glance at the couples dancing and kissing or more and sigh, feeling immensely alone. Deciding to take a break, you make your way to your quarters and set your champagne glass down. Stripping out of your dress, you take off your bra and panties and remain in your garter and stockings. It’s chilly tonight so you grab your furs, leaving on your pearls as you lay down and grab your glass of champagne, taking a sip before resting your head on your pillow. The jazz music has faded as you slide your hand along your body, imagining someone that adores you is touching you. Imagining that Dave is the one touching you with those strong capable hands. You whimper as you squeeze your breast, pinching your nipple and sliding your hand lower until you spread your thighs, pressing a delicate finger against your clit.

He’s not working tonight, so where you’ve disappeared to is none of his concern, but Dave looks at his watch when you don’t return to the party quickly. Frowning, he sets his champagne glass down, aware that your husband has no idea that you’ve disappeared from your own party. He checks the power rooms and then quickly makes his way over to your wing of the house, determined to find where you’ve gone.

You whimper, spreading your legs a little wider and moaning as you rub your clit. This is the only kind of pleasure you’ve ever known. Eddie has never made you feel desired or made you see stars…unless it’s his hand hitting your head. You sigh, a soft whisper of Dave’s name leaving your lips as you imagine him touching you. You imagine he’d be rough but giving, wanting to control your pleasure for his own satisfactions.

Your words in his mind, Dave moves silently down the hall to your rooms. He never agreed with having you on the opposite side of the house, but now he understands it. The sounds from the party are non-existent. He hears a moan and clenches his teeth in fury. He had turned down your obvious overtures and now you’ve found some other poor sap to risk getting his spine snapped. Even if Eddie wouldn’t order it, Dave will beat the life out of whoever had touched you. Fist tight to his side, the other hand turns the handle to your room and he barges in, eager to interrupt your little tête à tête.

You gasp, spilling some champagne as Dave barges in the room, fists clenched, and the shock dissipates almost immediately when you see he’s alone. You smirk and tilt your head back against your pillow, continuing to rub your clit as you work yourself up to an orgasm in front of your husband’s right hand man.

He can’t even speak. Nude except for a fur stole and pearls, your hand is between your thigh and the other clutching a flute of champagne makes you look like the classiest of whores. But a whore, you are not. You’re a woman who has been denied pleasure and Dave feels his restraint snap. Flipping the latch to your door so no one else can enter, he strides over to your bed and grabs your hand that’s between your thighs and pulls it away.

Your eyes narrow and you practically growl at him as he stops you from pleasuring yourself. "Are you going to control the way I touch myself too?" You hiss at him but he silences you by sliding your fingers into his mouth. Those dark eyes on yours as he tastes your arousal from your digits and you heave a breath at the lust that slams into you. "I just wanted a taste." He explains after he releases your fingers and you nod, dumbstruck. "Continue touching yourself." He demands, stepping back and you whine, "David." He shakes his head, "I want to watch you make yourself cum." His voice is full of command that makes you gush again and how can you deny him? Your hand shakes slightly as you press your damp fingers to your folds, rubbing your clit as your eyes meet his and your mouth falls open while you work yourself towards your climax.

Your nipples are hard, making his palms itch to fill his hands with your skin. To squeeze them and pinch the sensitive buds. But between your thighs, that is where the real show is. His dark eyes fix on your hand, occasionally flicking to watch your expression again. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You feel powerful, having him watch you as you take your own pleasure. His hissed curse pushes you closer and you keep your eyes on him as you whimper, getting closer and closer until finally, you fall over the edge. His name is not unexpected to fall from your lips but you know you’ll fluster later thinking about this moment. The way he unraveled you without a touch. “Dave.” You gasp as your fingers furiously rub your clit to work yourself through your orgasm.

Dave’s entire body hurts with the desire to claim you. To make you cry out his name because of him. Because of what he does to you. He can’t. You aren’t his. You are Eddie’s, even if the bastard doesn’t appreciate you. Your eyes are closed and there’s a softness to you as you catch your breath. “Beautiful, princess.” He grunts. “Now go to sleep.” He orders, turning around and walking away before he fucks up and crosses a line he can’t go back from.

You stare at him as he opens the door and exits your bedroom. "You bastard!" You scream at him, throwing the champagne glass at the door as you choke on a sob. You feel used now. He watched you in a vulnerable moment and didn't make a move. He's messing with you. Maybe he's testing you on Edward's behalf. You sob as you stumble into your en-suite, feeling so alone despite the hundreds of people partying below. You hate David York.

When he closes the door, Dave sighs. It had been so tempting but he just can’t touch you. 

****

“I will be gone for a week.” Eddie adjusts his collar and straightens his tie. “Business.” The smirk on his face tells Dave the business is that budding little socialite actress that he had been fucking. He nods. “What do you want me to do?”

Edward grabs his briefcase, “you stay here. Make sure my darling wife doesn’t escape. I don’t want her leaving the estate. You understand?” He asks Dave, “she hasn’t given me an heir yet. It’s…getting tedious.” Edward huffs and shakes his head, “I will have to have a doctor see to her soon if she does not conceive when I decide to fuck her next.”

He wants to tell Eddie that it’s hard to impregnant someone if they never fuck them, but he just nods silently. “Knew I could count on you.” He smirks and then chuckles. “Drink the scotch, it will help you get through the week with my boring wife.”

You know that Eddie is going into the city to see the latest woman that has caught his fancy. You don’t care. It’s saving you a week of hoping he doesn’t come to your room to ask for sex. You expect to have the estate to yourself when you see Eddie’s car disappear down the driveway and you make your way downstairs. You’re surprised when you find Dave sitting in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee that the housekeeper prepared for him. “What are you doing here, David?” You ask petulantly. Annoyed that Eddie let Dave here to babysit you and make sure you won’t escape.

“Keeping an eye on things.” He knows you are annoyed with him, you’ve made that quite clear by giving him the cold shoulder since the party. As long as you or Eddie don’t know how often he jerks off thinking about you spread out and playing with your cunt. “Here for the week, so deal with it.”

You huff, grabbing a glass to pour yourself a glass of orange juice that the housekeeper squeezed fresh this morning. “Well, it’s going to be a boring week for you.” You hum and lick your lips.

“Don’t mind boring.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Better than a busy week.” He admits, happy for the downtime, especially since he’s almost got everything prepared to walk away.”

You cross your arms, "well, it's going to be boring for me. Hanging around this house. Nothing to do except drink and read." You sigh, picking up your glass and taking a sip. "Not like anyone here will entertain me."

Dave snorts, enjoying the obvious attempt you are making to goad him. “Poor little rich girl.” He sympathizes mockingly. “Maybe I should send the housekeeper, maids and cook away to give you something to do?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I did not - you misunderstood me. You always seem to do that.” You huff and shake your head, “you’re infuriating. Following Edward around like his lost puppy. What are you waiting for? Him to throw you a bone? Money? He’s just using you like he uses all of us.” You spit at him, “we are all pawns in his game and you’re doing his dirty work.”

Dave narrows his eyes at you for a moment, not liking your view of him, but then he chuckles. “You think he’s using me, Princess?” He snorts. “That’s rich. Very rich. Considering.”

“Considering what?” You narrow your eyes at him again and slam your glass down, walking over to the kitchen table to press your palms to the tabletop. Your eyes burn into his as you lean over him. “What do you mean?” You demand to know.

Even if you said something to Edward, he wouldn’t believe you but Dave doesn’t think that you would willingly tell your husband this. “Considering…..” Dave smirks at you. “I’m using him. Have been since I saved him from getting beat to death.” He chuckles. “I drink his booze, sleep under his roof….” His eyes drop down to your cleavage. “Watch his wife make herself cum.”

You inhale sharply, shifting to stand up straight. You remember the first time Edward brought Dave home. He said he’d met him at a work function and clicked with the younger man. “You- he said you met at a work function. Wow…he’s even lied to me about that. I don’t think the man is capable of telling his wife the truth. Maybe that’s why she lets other men watch her cum.” You snort and turn away from Dave to grab your drink. It’s refreshing to hear someone say they are using Edward when your husband thinks he has everyone figured out and under his control.

Dave chuckles, watching you pour your drink and take a sip. “I was entertained.” He hums, drinking the rest of his coffee and standing after he folds the newspaper. “But soon, I’ll be leaving your husband’s employment.”

You turn to look at him, trying to hide your disappointment. As much as you and Dave have this - this unspoken thing - between you, you know you’ll die of boredom without him bothering you. You will be left in your quarters without anyone to talk to or spar with. You’ll be utterly heartbroken without him. You hate the idea of him going but you hate the idea of telling him that more. “Where are you going?” You inquire, trying to act like you don’t really care.

“Work for myself.” What you aren’t aware of, is that Edward isn’t very well liked amongst his business partners. Too brash and easy to dismiss. Dave has been watching and acquiring contacts. Networking under his nose. Almost ready to pull the rug out from under him.

“You can’t leave.” You tell him and he snorts, “and why not, Princess?” He asks and you blurt out, “you can’t leave me here alone. I don’t want you to go.” The words are out before you can stop them and you immediately regret them, knowing he’s got the upper hand once again.

“I’m not leaving yet.” He promises, even though he doesn’t know why he is assuring you of that. “Soon you’ll be busy having Edward’s children and raising them.”

You scoff, “he’d actually have to fuck me to get that to happen and even if he did I would try everything to prevent it.” You say without thinking and your eyes widen. “I didn’t - oh God. Don’t tell him that I- Dave.” You plead and he shakes his head, “your secret is safe with me, Princess. Just be a good girl.” He urges and you frown as he leaves the kitchen. Every interaction with the man confuses you even more until you don’t know where you stand with him.

Dave spends the afternoon in Eddie’s office. Using the telephone in there to make several calls and once he sets the phone down in the cradle once last time, he smirks to himself. Tapping his hand on the desk that exudes the image of power and considers buying one for himself once he has his own mansion. Tilting his head when he hears a noise, he pushes back from the desk and stands. Wanting to make sure that you’ve not decided to throw another party last minute.

You sway to the music coming out of the radio and smile at the familiar song. Swaying your hips, you lift your hands over your head as you start to dance, letting your mind go blank as you enjoy the freedom without Eddie in the house. Even if it can get lonely with only the staff to keep you company.

You had made comments about being lonely, but Eddie had always waved it away as you being spoilt because you weren’t being doted on. Watching you dance to the music, no one else on the floor, Dave is struck by just how alone you are. Isolated and confined by the man you had been married off to. His heart pounds and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s quickly moving quietly across the floor to sweep you up into his arms. The staff has gone home, so it’s just you and him in the house.

You gasp as you feel someone grab you and your first instinct is to fight until you see it’s Dave. “Goodness, you scared me.” You confess and he chuckles as he starts to lead you, swaying you to the music. Your fingers flex against his bicep, his jacket discarded somewhere and you feel secure in his arms, you feel safe. This is what you have yearned for during your nights alone. “I didn’t know you could dance.” You murmur, looking into those beautiful dark brown eyes that hold secrets you’ll never be privy to.

“Never done it.” Dave admits with a small smirk. “Watched it plenty, practiced by myself.” He knows you won’t judge him for that, now when you have just been dancing by yourself as well. “If I’m going to be a wealthy man one day, I should be able to dance.”

You like his ambition, the sparkle in his eyes. “Just promise me one thing.” You request as his hand rests on the small of your back. “Tell me, Princess.” He orders and you look into his eyes for a second. “Don’t forget who you are. Be true to yourself.” You urge, knowing what money can do to men. It can corrupt, it destroys. You don’t want to see him change when he’s strong and charismatic and…and sexy.

Dave lifts a brow, surprised by your request and he nods. “Grew up dirt poor and fighting to survive.” He reveals quietly. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget that but when I finally have a wife, kids of my own, I want to give them the world.”

You hate the thought of him married to another woman, giving her the life she deserves and all of him. Having his children. Dave is a rare gem in your otherwise lackluster jewelry box of family, friends, and acquaintances. He’s authentic and you love that.

Your expression falls and Dave frowns, letting go of your waist when you look away and grabbing your chin gently to turn it back towards him. You flinch and that pisses him off, knowing that Eddie had slapped you around too often for Dave’s liking. He could beat on a woman, but too much of a coward to take on a man his own size. “What?”

You push his hand away from your chin. “You don’t care. You’re here to babysit me for Eddie. Even throwing myself at you…you reject me. Lord above, you’ve seen me - well, you’ve seen all of me and yet I’ve seen none of you. Not even your true thoughts and feelings. I feel exposed when you just look at me. It unnerves me and yet it makes me want to beg you to fuck me but God forbid I stoop so low to beg. You’d surely laugh at me and I couldn’t - that would be too much to bear for a woman who constantly lives as an ornament in her own home.” You choke and turn away from him, not wanting to stay and hear him reject you again.

Dave grabs your arm harshly and spins you around to face him again. Making you gasp out in surprise and the retort that he had died on his lips. Surging forward as he crushes you to him, Dave’s mouth falls over yours in a completely devouring kiss. Giving into the emotions and wants that he has been so careful to keep secret until now.

You gasp into his mouth, shocked for several seconds until you melt against him. He kisses you like a man starved of affection. You’ve never been kissed like this. Edward only kisses you in public to keep up pretenses. Your fingers find purchase in his slicked back hair and you press yourself against him as you let him devour you.

Dave licks into your mouth like you are the sweetest treat. Sampling you and groaning at the flavors that make you up. His hands tighten on your body and he starts striding back, guiding you towards the door and pressing you against it while he plunders your mouth greedily.

Your hands slide down to grip his shirt, pulling him even closer as he presses you into the ornate wooden door. “Dave.” You gasp when he pulls back to let you catch your breath and he trails his kisses along your jaw. “Please.” You beg, needing more from him.

You deserve more than a quick fuck against a door. You deserve to be taken apart and shown how desirable you are. “Where do you want me to fuck you, Princess?” He growls, sliding his hand down to cup your cunt through your dress. “Here? On your husband’s desk? Your bed?”

“Oh God.” You can’t deny the idea of him taking you on Eddie’s beloved desk makes you soak your panties but you want to be fucked by Dave in a bed. “Bed. My bed.” You manage to spit out as he bites down on your neck and rubs your pussy through the silk.

He chuckles darkly, happy you had chosen that option. He wants to spread you out. Pulling away, he decides he’s going to show you how much he wants you. Ducking down, Dave flips you over his shoulder and stands straight despite your shriek of surprise. Striding out of the ballroom and towards the stairs that will take him to your room.

Your hands scramble to grip him so he doesn’t drop you but he carries you up the stairs and practically kicks your door open, throwing you down on the bed. You don’t get a chance to move when he is dragging you down to the edge of the bed, pulling off your shoes. “Want you naked.” He demands and you nod, “undress me.”

He’s not gentle. Not when he’s going to see you naked again. The image is burned into his mind and he wants to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Fabric rips but he just pulls harder in his haste to have you bare. “He’s a fucking idiot.” Dave hisses when he has you out of your dress to work on your undergarments. “I’d be right here. Everyday. Devouring you instead of fucking off.”

His words make you moan. A sound that’s been foreign to you in your prior couplings with your husband. Dave brings out a side of you you’ve never known. His hands work fast to remove your underwear, ripping the stockings and untying the garter belt. When you’re fully bare in front of you, you realize he’s still dressed. “This isn’t fair. You’re still clothed.” You huff, shaking your head at him as he looms above you.

He rolls his eyes but his tie is already gone so he slips the suspenders off his shoulders and starts to unbutton his shirt. “You want me naked, Princess? Over you, inside you like I’ve imagined a thousand times?” He smirks when he moves to shrug out of the shirt. “Jerked my cock raw the night you played with your cunt in front of me. Hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

You are hypnotized by him as he removes his clothes. “I - I thought you were revolted by me that night. That you didn’t want me.” You confess breathlessly as he works in his trousers and you are so eager to see him.

“Princess, if you could hear the thoughts I was having…” Dave snorts. “The fucking arguement of why it was so stupid to touch you just then. I would have sold my fucking soul for an hour between those pretty thighs.”

You moan at his words and shift to kneel on the bed, reaching out to unbutton his pants, letting them fall to the floor and you reach into his briefs to pull out his hard cock. “Fuck me.” You choke at the sheer size of him, and you squeeze him. “I would’ve sold my soul if I knew you had this hiding in your pants.” You confess, looking up at him.

He chuckles, aware that for all his boasting, Dave has your husband beat in cock size. “You don’t even know if you can take me, Princess. I know that little cunt is tight.” He smirks. “Why don’t you get it nice and wet by sucking my cock like a good little whore?”

His words should insult you. You should slap him for being so crass but instead, it makes you moan. You moan and shuffle closer, your eyes fixed on his as you take him into your mouth. Jaw stretched as you wrap your lips around the head and taste the salt of his pre-cum that gathered.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses, looking down at where you are taking his cock into your mouth. It’s clear that you have no experience in it, Eddie had claimed you were disgusted by the idea, but it was just him you were refusing. “Relax your jaw.” He grunts, caressing your cheek and then sliding his hand down to cup your chin. Feeling your throat move. “Don’t gag.”

You follow his order, relaxing your jaw and you close your eyes to focus on not gagging as he rocks his hips. You want this to be good for him. You want him to enjoy every second of being with you. Your eyes open again just as he thrusts a little too hard and you gag as he pushes down your throat.

Pulling his hips back, Dave waits for you to catch your breath. “Is your cunt dripping? Throbbing from how turned on you are?” He coos, smirking down at your watery face. “You like it. You want me to use you, don’t you?”

You want him to use you, to make you feel things you’ve never felt before. “Yes. Please Dave. I need - I don’t even know what I need. No one - Edward never- please. Use me.” You beg and surge forward to take him into your mouth again.

Dave grunts, grabbing the back of your head and this time, he isn’t gentle. The way you eagerly open up for him has his hips snapping forward and he ignores the way you gag and gasp, enjoying the way your eyes water and your body heaves. Your cunt will be dripping wet by the time he touches you. Holding onto your head, he starts fucking your mouth, showing you how your husband should have been putting that smart little hole to use.

You choke around him, spit flying from your mouth and you moan when his cock twitches violently in your mouth. This is what you want. Passion. Need. Desire. Not just doing a duty. You moan his name, it's muffled around his length but you love when his dark eyes meet your watery ones and he lets out a dark chuckle.

“You love it.” He hums, rubbing his thumb through your spit. “Fuck, I bet you could cum from sucking my cock. Filthy.” He wants to spill down your throat, but he wants to fill you up more. Reluctantly pulling his hips back, he taps your cheek. “Flip over and push your ass up in the air. Legs spread. I want to see that cunt.”

You gasp, trying to catch your breath as a line of spit keeps you connected to him. “Fuck. Yes baby. I- I want you.” You promise and shift to kneel on the bed, settling down onto your elbows so he can see your dripping pussy on display for him.

Goddamn, your cunt is slick and shiny with arousal and Dave’s cock twitches. He reaches out and slaps your ass harshly, loving how you cry out in surprise. “Fuck.”

You cry out again when he smacks you and you love it. Sometimes Edward would smack your face if you displeased him but this - Dave smacking your ass- has you dripping for him. “Please baby. More.” You beg, wanting to feel more from him.

He chuckles, slapping your ass again and grabbing it with both hands. Squeezing it and pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look. He’s had plenty of women, but none that he’s wanted as much as he wants you. He slides a hand down to your cunt and groans at how wet you are. “Such a little whore, aren’t you? My whore.”

You should slap him for speaking to you like that but you can’t. You moan and nod, “yours, Dave. All yours. Your whore.” You promise as his fingers rub your hole to gather up all the arousal that has gathered there.

Dave groans at how wet you are, sliding two of his thick fingers inside you and hissing at how tight you are.

You pant as he pushes his digits deep and you know you’re going to enjoy this more than your own fingers inside of you. “Oh God, Dave.” You whine as he starts to pump his fingers inside of you. “Yessss.” You hiss when he curls them just right and your thighs shake slightly.

“Fuck, he’s been slacking.” He grunts. “I would have had this cunt worn out. Split open on my cock every night until you can't walk.” You aren’t his, but he would be so possessive of you if you were. Pushing him away, he would be so eager to bend you over and feed you his cock into all your holes.

You gasp at his words, gushing around his digits and his thumb presses against your clit. “Oh God. Oh shit. Da-Dave.” You cry as you clamp down on his fingers and moan his name, “I love - I love it.” You choke as he works you through your orgasm. The first you’ve ever had from another person.

Dave hisses at how tight you get, squeezing his fingers like a vice. “That’s it, Princess. You cum for me. Want you to be cock drunk when I’m done with you.” He’s got no intention of stopping now. Not when you have moaned his name because of him, he’s greedy for it.

You press your cheek against the cool sheets as his wet fingers caress your ass. “David.” You plead softly, “I need you to fuck me. Hard.” You beg, needing more from him. You’ve wanted him for so long. You need him now.

“I’m going to, Princess.” He doesn’t say anything else as he kneels behind you, ready to mount up. He knows that you are about to cheat, but you don’t care. He pumps his cock a few times and notches himself at your entrance, pushing deep with a grunt of your name.

You practically sob as he stretches you out. “Dave. Dave. Dave.” You chant as he stretches you more than Edward has ever. You feel like he’s splitting you in two but you fucking love it. You choke as he starts to move, thrusting hard and fast inside of you. You whimper as he thrusts deep, his fingers digging into your flesh and you swear you see stars.

He’s not gentle, you don’t want him to be. His hips slap against your ass while he ruthlessly buries his cock as deep as he can every thrust. Taking you, possessing you in the only way that he knows how and loving every single time you clamp down around him.

He pants as you push back against him, wanting him to take what he wants from you. “Yesss.” You hiss into the sheets, “that’s it baby. Oh God. Keep - keep going.” You plead as his fingers dig into your hips.

Dave groans, rubbing your hip and then slapping your ass right before he pushes deep again. “Good fucking god.” He hisses. “You are perfect. Fucking perfect.” So innocent, yet so fucking filthy. He twitches inside you. “You gonna cum on my cock for me?”

You nod, frantically trying to show him how good you can be for him. “Yes. Yes. I’m gonna - oh shit, Dave. You’re - it’s so good. I love - oh fuck.” You choke as he rocks into you, “I want you to- to show me what I’ve been missing.”

“This cunt is mine.” Dave growls, snapping his hips forward again. “Not his. Mine. Do you understand?” He rocks his hips and reaches around to grab your tit and squeezes. “Understand? You’re my whore now.

“Yes. Yes. Yours. All yours.” You promise as he squeezes your breast and you whimper his name, “I’m yours baby.” You vow as he fucks you into the mattress. Your wedding band glistens in the lamplight but you don’t pay it any mind, too focused on the man fucking you hard.

Dave grunts, knowing that he is getting close to cumming. Trying to hold back until you finish. Knowing that he needs to prove himself better than the piece of shit you’re married to. He slides his hand down to rub your clit as he pounds into you like it’s the last thing he will do.

Your nails dig into the bed sheets as he thrusts deep enough that you swear you feel him in your stomach and you are glad the staff have gone home so they don’t hear your cries of pleasure. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh! Ohhhh!” You squeal as you clamp down on his cock, thighs shaking and you collapse onto the sheets.

You soak him, making him groan. The squelching of his cock loud as he rocks through your orgasm and chases his own. “Fuck, fuck.” He spits out your name. “Gonna cum.”

You should tell him to pull out. To spill on your sheets or your skin. Yet the idea of him filling you up has you climaxing again, clamping down on his cock and he seems to be unable to hold back as he thrusts deep and spills inside of you, painting your walls. “Yessss.” You cry out, closing your eyes and tears push out of them as you moan into the sheets.

Dave growls as he fills you, bending over and covering your body with his while his cum paints your walls. “Fuck.” He pants, his forehead resting against your shoulder and he hisses in pleasure when your walls flutter around him. “You’re perfect.” He murmurs again.

You remain pressed into the mattress, his hot breaths against your skin make you shiver slightly and you revel in the bliss of being touched now you’ve always wanted. Especially by Dave. “God. You too. You too baby.” You murmur, not considering the consequences as you enjoy your betrayal of Edward, the birth of your freedom.

He doesn’t pull out immediately, staying buried inside you. His hand sliding back up to your breast and pinching your nipple. He chuckles when you squeal and nips your shoulder. “Shit.”

“I’ve waited a long time for you to do that.” You confess breathlessly and his chuckle vibrates against your skin. “Me too.” He admits and you turn your head to look at him. “I was convinced that Edward had you keeping me prisoner here for him.”

Dave snorts. “He might have thought that. But I was keeping an eye on you. If I was here, he was less likely to slap you around.” He murmurs softly.

You stiffen slightly at the reminder and Dave misreads and pulls out of you, not touching you as you shift to look at him. “He’s a bastard. I didn’t - my parents promised me to him when I was sixteen. We got married when I completed finishing school. He’s all I have ever known and - and he’s - I don’t think I can survive a lifetime being his wife.”

“I know.” Dave nods seriously. “He’s a bastard and his deeds are worse than you know.” He admits. “I know all his skeletons, and he’s never deserved you. Never deserved to touch you. I know I don’t deserve to touch you either, but I would never hit you.”

You sigh, reaching up to caress his cheek. “I shouldn’t trust you, but I do. You have done nothing but protect me. I know you’ve tried to talk to Eddie about him hitting me. You’ve fought my corner and I am so grateful to you for that, sweetheart.” You confess, sliding your hand down his neck until your palm rests over his heart. “Eddie can never know about this.” You say, “he will kill me.”

He’s a little insulted that you believe that he would let that happen, but he doesn’t push it. Knowing that sometimes seeing is believing. “Nothing will happen to you.” He promises vaguely, sure that you will think that means that Eddie won’t know. “You might be his wife, but you are mine.”

You can’t stop the smile on your face as he declares you as his. “Yours.” You promise, shifting onto your knees so you can lean in to kiss him. “I’m yours, baby.” You promise, “and we have at least a few days to enjoy ourselves.”

Dave smirks. “So you want me to send the staff home?” He asks, curious to see what you want. “Or just limit ourselves to the night when everyone has left?”

“Send them home. I don’t want them blabbing to Eddie about us and I definitely don’t want to miss a moment without touching you while I can.” You say, kissing his neck, “I want my fill of you.”

Chuckling, he reaches down and rubs your tit again. “So we’ll send them home and play house? The little woman gonna cook, clean and let me fuck her?” You snort but Dave knows you know how to cook. You’ve been taught to be a proper wife. “We’ll have a good week, Princess. I’ll take care of you.”

After you explain to the staff that you want a week to yourself to exercise the cooking and cleaning skills you were taught with a promise that they would still be paid, you and Dave are left alone to enjoy each other’s company. You decide to make dinner, getting the chicken from the icebox and you start chopping vegetables to show Dave what a good wife you could be if only Eddie hadn’t trapped you in this gilded cage.

Dave grunts and he walks into the kitchen, finding you in your bare feet and a house dress that he knows you aren’t wearing anything under. Even if it’s not traditionally lingerie, it’s sexy. To see you so relaxed. His cock twitches and he has found himself addicted to you. Fucking you all over the house, but he hasn’t taken you in the kitchen yet. He smirks to himself as he comes behind you and grabs your hips to press you against the cabinets. “Never figured a shapeless house dress would be so appealing.” He groans in your ear. “But I know all you have under it is your wet cunt, still slick from my spit.” He had taught you that a real man eats a cunt and you had begged him for it every morning so far.

You whimper as he kisses along your neck, “fuck. I- I love it. Wanted - wanted you to be able to touch me whenever you want.” You confess as you set the knife down on the counter and turn your head so you can press your lips to his.

Dave has touched you whenever he wanted. Done what he’s wanted with your body and you’ve loved it. Screamed his name every time when you’ve cum and confessed you’ve never cum so much in a week. His tongue slides into your mouth insistently and he presses his hard cock against your ass. Grinding against you as he kisses you and only when you’re breathless does he pull back. “Can you keep making dinner while I fuck you?” He asks, smirking as he slides the material up and sinks his hand between your thighs. “Keep cutting your vegetables while my cock is buried in your little cunt?”

You pant as he rubs your clit and you close your eyes for a second until he withdraws his hand and you whine. "Keep cutting." He demands and you pick up the knife with a shaky hand, moving extra slow to not cut yourself as he rubs your clit while his lips press against the nape of your neck.

“That’s it, Princess.” He praises roughly, loving how you will do anything and everything he asks of you. His fingers work your clit and he pulls his other hand back to work the belt of his trousers open. Foregoing suspenders today. “Gonna feel so good. Might want to eat with you on my cock.”

You pant as he touches you until he’s withdrawing his hand and you whine, annoyed until he lifts your dress higher and kicks your ankles apart, gripping his cock until he positions himself at your entrance. You gasp, nearly dropping the knife as he pushes into you. “Oh shit. Dave.” You moan at the sudden way he enters you.

“Oh shit is right.” Dave grits out. “You’re so tight, Princess. Your greedy little cunt just squeezes my cock tight.” He praises. “So fucking good. Keep chopping.” He orders, drawing his hips back and filling you again, just as quickly. Groaning your name as he sets a steady, even pace.

You cling to the knife, closing your eyes as he rocks into you, and you whimper, loving how it feels to have him inside of you like those. “Fuck Dave.” You whine and he growls, “keep cutting.” You obey, shifting to continue cutting the vegetables, and nearly chop off the tip of your finger as he hits something incredible inside of you.

Dave hisses, closing his eyes as he thrusts into you again and again. He’s already filled you up so many times, he’s sure you’re pregnant. You would have to be, but he doesn’t care. He wants you to be. Just to show the world you are his. “So fucking good, Princess. You gonna cum?”

You groan as he rocks into you, “fuck baby. I- Dave. Oh shit.” You choke, the knife clattering to the counter as he works you closer to your orgasm. “Yes - yea -yes. I’m gonna - oh God!” You squeal, lifting onto your tiptoes as he pushes you higher on the counter and he makes you cum hard.

He loves it. Loves how tight you get and how hard you cum. Soaking his length and squeezing it so damn tight he can barely move as you flutter around him. “Perfect.” He groans and rocks you through it before you relax and he can get his own.

You clench your fists as he tries to move inside of you. “Cum for me, Dave. Need - need to feel it. Please.” You beg, turning back to look at him over your shoulder. “Cum for me, my love.” You order, needing to feel him paint your walls for the umpteenth time.

Dave growls your name, feeling incredibly possessive as he fucks into your frantically. Needing to claim you, mark you as his own again and his hips bang you into the counter as he chases his orgasm. Thrusting deep and stiffening as he pumps you full of his seed with a groan of pleasure.

You moan as you watch him, panting as he thrusts slowly to ride out his orgasm and you love how good it feels to have him touch you like this. Your time is coming to an end. Eddie will be returning in the morning and you know you’ll be aching for Dave when he has to retreat from your bed.

Dave pants, dropping his head onto your shoulder as he catches his breath. “Fuck.” He moans softly, chuckling. “It keeps getting better.” He muses, pulling out of you gently to tuck himself away.

You nod, feeling his cum start to drip as he pulls out of you but you don’t care as you grab the knife and resume cutting up the vegetables. “Dinner won’t be too long.” You tell him as he adjusts his suspenders and lowers your house dress. You desperately wish Eddie wasn’t coming back. That you could stay in this domestic bliss with Dave forever. That’s not going to happen though. Especially when you don’t notice the front door being opened.

“I’m home!” Eddie calls out, making Dave stiffen slightly. “Where the fuck is everyone?”  He shouts. Dave doesn’t look at you, just disappears through the doorway to go greet your husband. “Your wife was bored so I sent the staff home.” He greets Eddie with a smirk that is completely for show. “Let her cook and clean.”

Your back stiffens as you hear Eddie shout out and you hiss as you catch your finger with the knife, blood starting to drip from your skin. You set the knife down just as Eddie walks into the kitchen, Dave’s cum slick on your inner thighs. “Hello darling.” He greets you and comes over to press a kiss to your lips. “Look at you, acting like a domestic goddess.” He mocks you as he grabs your wrist, “can’t even cut some vegetables up.” He scoffs, “I’ll call the staff back right away. I want things done properly around here.” He says as he lets go of your wrist, blood trickling down your finger.

Dave can tell you are upset and he catches Eddie’s attention. “Come let me tell you how everything’s been going.” He tells him. “Have a drink and you can relax. I know you are tired from work.”

You watch the men leave, your eyes burning into Dave’s back as he walks out of the kitchen and tears sting in your eyes. Was this all a game to him? To seduce you and leave you in this terrible marriage. Tears stream down your cheeks and mix with the water as you wash your hand and bandages your finger up, finishing up the vegetables and putting the chicken in to cook while you bathe to wash Dave’s cum from your thighs.

Dave forces a smile on his face while he listens to Eddie boast about the little whore he had been fucking all week. Lying about his prowess when he knows the other man does a shit job with fucking. “Decided I needed to come home and finally get my useless wife pregnant.” He huffs. “Although if she doesn’t give me a son soon, I’m going to leave her.” Dave pretends to look understanding but he wants to choke the man. “I don’t think that you’re gonna be able to right now.” He tells him. “She’s been complaining about womanly things.” He confides.

****

Dinner is served in the dining room, Eddie and Dave seated at one end of the table, you at the other. You had changed into an evening dress and laid out the dinner for you and the men. “Needs more seasoning. It’s a bit overcooked.” Eddie tells Dave who doesn’t glance over at you. You miss those dark brown eyes already. You reach for your glass of wine, downing it, and you don’t know how long you can suffer being prisoner in this house with Eddie.

Dave hums and cleans his plate, eating every bite of the delicious food. Everything was perfect, your husband just enjoys finding faults with you. Dave knows he’s never loved you, never really wanted more than your connections, your name attached to his. “I’m going to stay tonight.” Dave tells him. “My housekeeper has the week off since you were supposed to be back tomorrow.”

“Of course. Stay. You might want to take one of the rooms on the other side of the house.” Eddie whispers and you don’t hear as you stand up, “I’m going to clean up and retreat to my quarters. Dessert is on the counter if you wish to have it.” You tell the men after they stand up and Dave looks at you for the first time since Edward returned. “Goodnight Eddie. Goodnight David.” You say and take your plate to the kitchen to wash it up. You feel a little sick at the fact that the week with Dave will always be in your mind, a taste of what freedom could feel like.

Dave frowns slightly, unhappy that the idiot had ignored his lie that you were experiencing your monthly bleeding. Instead of pressing it, which would seem strange, he just grunts. He has no intention of sleeping anywhere but your bed.

****

You are in your nightgown, ready for bed, when there’s a knock at your door. You grin, thinking it’s Dave and you rush over to the door, flinging it open and your stomach drops when it’s Edward standing there, glass of whiskey in hand. “To what do I owe this honor?” You ask, unable to withhold an attitude - something you’ve picked up from Dave over the week. Eddie steps into your room, shutting the door behind him and you swallow harshly. “I want to fuck my wife after I’ve been gone all week.” He declares and you shake your head, “I am having my monthly bleed. You can’t - you don’t like it.” You remind him of his disgust for your natural cycle - a reminder of your failures as his wife, you suppose. “I don’t give a fuck about that. Need to get you pregnant.” He grunts and steps closer, “lay down. I won’t be long.” He promises, working on removing his suspenders. You know it would be suspicious to argue, to refuse him. You want to scream at him that no one is allowed inside of you except Dave. Only if you said that, you and Dave would be on the line. You could run away, you could push him back, but you won’t. You need to do this and you willingly do it to protect yourself. You shift to lay down on your sheets, staring up at the ceiling as Eddie shoves your nightgown up. There’s no arousal, there’s no pleasure. You wince as he pushes inside of you, closing your eyes as you imagine Dave, the way he looks when he first thrusts into your cunt. The awestruck look in those gorgeous eyes as he ensures you always climax before he does. The look of concentration as he adjusts his thrusts according to your moans. It makes you wet enough to accommodate your husband as he ruts into you. A tear escapes and rolls down your cheek but Edward doesn’t notice. His fingers dig into your flesh and you clench around him, trying to spur him on to finish faster. Eddie grunts several more times before he lets out a low moan, his hot seed coating your walls and you keep your eyes shut, trying to imagine it’s Dave filling you up. He lowers your legs and tucks his cock away. “Keep lying down. Need you to give a son, goddamn it, woman.” He growls and you nod, staring up at the ceiling as he exits your bedroom without another word. You quickly sit up, making your way into your en-suite to wash his cum out of you, scrubbing your skin clean until it burns and finally, you collapse back in your bed and curl into a ball, praying he didn’t get you pregnant, that you aren’t trapped here forever.

Dave scowls from the shadow of the alcove beyond your room as Eddie walks past him. Imagining dragging him back and beating him to death in front of you. Instead, he says nothing, waiting another few minutes to make sure the bastard doesn't decide to come back for another round before he moves from his spot. Silently approaching your door and slipping inside, locking it behind him to keep everyone out. The sight of you curled up on your bed breaks his head and Dave moves over to you quickly.

When Dave curls around you, his strong arms dragging you back into his chest, you break down. Turning, you sob into his chest at the fact that you could never be with him. Eddie won’t let you know. He’d rather kill you than let you divorce him, and now, he’s going to get you pregnant so you can’t leave him. Dave rubs your back, holding you close and kissing your hair until you fall asleep, tear stained face relaxing as you let the man you love hold you.

Dave holds you all night. He doesn’t move, doesn’t shift you away from him. Even if his clothes are not as comfortable as stripping down, he doesn’t let you go. Knowing you need the comfort he can bring you, and he enjoys that you find comfort in him. Never experiencing that until you. He doesn’t even sleep, just continues to rub your back when you shift and murmurs soft words to ease you back to sleep.

****

It’s been a month since the night Edward came into your room and you stare at the calendar on your vanity. Counting down the days until your next bleed and you’re overdue. “Shit.” You hiss, unsure of how to feel. If you are pregnant, you’re almost certain it’s Dave’s. Edward has fucked you in the past three years and your cycle has always been exactly on time. You bite your lip, unsure of what to tell your husband or Dave and when your housekeeper comes in, you request that she has the butler send for the doctor. You need to know for certain if you are with child. After that…you’ll figure it out. While you wait for the doctor, you feel ill and end up lying down on your bed, thinking of Dave. He has to return home more often than not to keep up appearances but when he stays in the house, he stays in your bed. His hand over your mouth to smother your moans as he takes you in the middle of the night while Eddie sleeps. In the daytime, he keeps his distance, barely speaking to you in front of Edward and you miss the days he’d sit and talk to you for hours about everything and nothing.

Dave has his ear to the ground in every corner of the house. Keeping an eye on what Eddie is doing and how you are being treated. There’s been no abuse since he’s been back, although he’s fucked you a few more times. Each time, Dave has come into your room when he leaves, comforting you and holding you while you cry. While he silently continues to get ready for his departure from Eddie’s employment. When the housekeeper rushes to call the doctor, Dave frowns slightly, wondering if you’ve caught something and makes his way to your room.

You wipe your eyes as the door to your room opens and you look in the mirror of your vanity to find Dave standing there. “Is everything okay?” He asks and you shake your head, lower lip trembling. “I- I - I am late. To bleed. I think I’m with child.” You confess, standing up on shaky legs to wrap your arms around Dave, needing his comfort.

Dave’s eyes widen and he immediately looks down to your stomach even as he folds you into his arms. “It is okay.” He promises you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “If you are pregnant, then you are pregnant. I knew it could happen. I will not be upset.”

You sniff, shaking your head, and you cup his cheek. “What if…what if it’s Edward’s? It’s - there’s a chance. I can’t - I’d be trapped here forever.” You choke, starting to panic.

“I doubt it’s Edward’s.” Dave comforts you quietly, holding you tightly and shaking his head. “If it is Edward’s child by some small chance, it makes no difference with my plans. You will not be stuck with him.”

You frown at his words, wondering what he has planned but before you can ask, there’s a knock at the door. You pull back from Dave just as your maid enters to announce the doctor’s arrival. You glance at Dave, anxious for your examination. The doctor orders for you to lay down on the bed, and you wish Dave could come over and hold your hand. “You are dismissed, Mr. York.” Your maid tells Dave, her eyes suspicious as she wonders why Dave was in your room. Dave nods, his eyes meeting yours for a second until he exits the room. You want to demand he stays but that would be strange to the staff. The doctor takes your blood and you wince as his hands push your dress up. Pressing his hand to your stomach, he hums and pushes two fingers into you, making you grimace. “We need a urine sample as well.” He declares and you get off of the bed after he shifts away from you. Peeing into the small cup, you pray that if you are pregnant, the baby is Dave’s. At least you’ll have some part of him when your affair has to end because of Edward. You come out to find the doctor examining the samples with the heavy equipment he had brought up and he’s there for a while until he says “you’re pregnant, Mrs. Holt.” You nod, absorbing the news, unsure of if you should be happy or not.

“Your husband will be most pleased.” He’s aware that Edward wants a son and he is pulling out some pills for you to take. “To help with the nausea to come and settle your nerves.” He explains. “You are not too far along so if you experience heavy spotting, please call.”

Your maid takes the pills and nods, “we will call if there is anything amiss.” She promises and you nod, a little dumbstruck by the news. You’ve done everything you could to avoid getting pregnant by Edward. You pray the baby is Dave’s. Even if you’re stuck with Edward, at least you’ll have a part of the man you love and the happy memories. Your hand slides down to your stomach and the doctor soon leaves. “Congratulations, ma’am.” She smiles at you. You offer her a weak smile back. “Shall I bring you something to eat?” She asks and you nod, “yes please.” She exits your bedroom, leaving you to absorb the news. Second after she leaves, your door opens and Dave slides into your bedroom. “What did he say?” He asks, anxious as you were, and you look at him, “he confirmed it. I’m pregnant.”

Dave nods seriously, trying to gauge your feelings as he steps closer to you. “Pregnant.” He murmurs softly. “So I guess I can’t fuck you?” He asks and you shake your head. “Sex is still allowed, but Dave…” he cuts you off and lunges forward to press his lips to yours harshly. Wanting to remind you that no matter what, you are his.

You moan into his mouth, your fingers gripping his suspenders to pull him closer so you can press your entire body against him. You belong to him, your heart belongs to him. His ring isn’t on your fingers and you’re not sure if it’s his child inside of you, but the rest of you is entirely his. “I love you.” You murmur breathlessly as he pulls back to work on removing your clothes, exposing the stomach that hasn’t just rounded with the baby inside of you. Potentially his baby.

Dave groans as he caresses your stomach and leans down. “You know how I feel.” He tells you before biting your nipple through the fabric of your bra. He doesn’t have too long before the maid returns but he wants to make you feel good. “Unzip my pants, Princess.”

You do know how he feels in the way he touches you, the nights he spends wrapped around you. It’s a tragic tale. A story of two people that love each other but can never be. All you have for now is his touch. You won’t waste a second. You fumble to unzip his pants and you reach in to pull his half hard cock out of his briefs. You hook your fingers in your panties, pushing them down your legs but keeping your stockings and garter belt on as you grab his tie and guide him back towards your bed. “Fuck me, David.” You order, wanting to lose yourself in his touch while you can.

He chuckles at your impatience, though he feels the same way. Following you onto the bed and he wishes he had time to lay you out, to feast on you. To make you limp from pleasure before he ever slides inside you. “We’re gonna have a baby.” He murmurs, reminding you that he’s with you, even if the baby is not his.

You watch him spit in his hand and pump his cock a few times to get harder and you shift to lay on the bed, your head against your pillows as he shifts to hover over you, his hand trailing along your inner thigh. He pushes you open to accommodate his body between your legs and he guides his cock to your cunt, slowly pushing in and you moan at the look on his face as he claims you as his.

Dave groans your name. Reaching down to pull you up to his lips as he starts to move. Loving how you are so sensitive to him. Clenching down his cock and whimpering his name.

Your hands slide along his arms, caressing the hair at the nape of his neck before you loop your arms around his neck, dragging him down on top of you, wanting to feel the weight of him. He shifts to his elbows, keeping his weight off of your stomach and you moan when he kisses along your neck. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart.” He reminds you and you nod, biting your lip as he moves inside of you.

Dave rocks into you again and again. Watching you as he does to make sure he doesn’t hurt you by accident. Even as rough as he has been on his harshest with you, he wants you to enjoy yourself. Doesn’t want to hurt the baby.

Your nails dig into the back of his neck as he pushes you closer to your orgasm, falling over the edge when his fingers find your clit, and you whimper his name, trying to keep quiet. 

“Dave!” You choke, clamping down on his cock.

****

“Oh God, Dave!” You moan, your hand finding his as he moves inside of you. It’s the middle of the night and Dave snuck into your room to see you. His body curls around yours as he rocks into you from behind, his fingers rubbing your clit to work you through your orgasm until his hand slides up to your bump. You’re due any day now. Secretly terrified that the baby is Edward’s. Your husband is over the moon, telling everyone his son will be here any day now, and you want to scream at him that it could be Dave’s child. It might not be a boy either. Edward has been strangely affectionate towards you, no longer hitting you or belittling you. He has been disappearing to his whores still but he hasn’t been cruel to you during your pregnancy. Dave has been here, decided to move in after Edward insisted he move in to protect you during his extended “business trips.” Obviously, you and Dave loved the idea and for the past nine months, you and Dave have continued your affair under the nose of your husband. “Cum for me.” You murmur, turning your head to nudge your nose against Dave’s jaw as it clenches with his imminent orgasm.

“I love you.” Dave groans out, knowing how much you love hearing that. You’ve grown more beautiful as the months have gone by and he has enjoyed seeing you swell with his child. He knows it’s his child, he feels it. The baby inside you responding to his voice, his presence. He takes such satisfaction from the fact that you have been safe here and Dave hasn’t wanted to move forward with his plans just yet because of your pregnancy. So he has been taking care of you this entire time while waiting for the perfect place

He pushes deep into you and groans into your neck as he cums, painting your walls with his seed and you sigh in bliss. The baby moves beneath Dave's hand as he caresses your bump. "I love you." You whisper, silently praying that the baby is Dave's. You turn your head to kiss the man you love, nudging your nose against his as he relaxes behind you. "Not long now." He murmurs and you nod, "baby is coming any day now." You feel apprehensive, scared for the pains of childbirth and terrified to find out who the father is once and for all.

Dave doesn’t pull out of you, staying buried inside you as you sigh again. “Don’t worry.” He murmurs, rubbing your stomach gently. “I just wish I could be with you.” Even if he was your husband, he wouldn’t be allowed to be in the room while you are giving birth, and he hates it.

You feel yourself tear up at the fact that he won't be in the room with you. You place your hand over his, "I wish you could too." You murmur, closing your eyes as he remains inside of you, surrounding you. 

****

Your scream echoes through the house, your forehead soaked with sweat as you bear down once again. "That's it, Mrs. Holt. Keep pushing." The midwife orders and you shake your head as you grip the sheets. "I- I can't." You choke, "so tired." You murmur and your maid slaps you awake. "You can." She demands and you start to sob, "please. I need Dave." You beg, lost in the haze of your pain. "You need to push." Daisy, your maid demands, and you scream through gritted teeth, pushing as hard as you can on the next contraction until finally, the pressure releases and you gasp in a breath as the pain immediately recedes. A cry fills the air seconds later and it's a blur as the midwife wraps the baby up and carries it to you to place it on your bare chest. "It's a boy." She declares and you look down at the baby in your arms. Your eyes scan his features as he wails in your arms, and you start to sob again.

Dave doesn’t even act like he wasn’t listening to every scream, every cry. Sitting by himself outside the door. Edward had disappeared to go be with his lover as soon as you had started moaning in pain. Telling Dave to send word once his son had been born. At least he hadn’t had to pretend that he didn’t care. He hadn’t demanded to be in the room, but he hadn’t left. Looking up from the drink in his hand every time the door opened. Now, with the cry of a baby, he leaps to his feet and pushes into the room as he calls out your name.

You look up with tears streaming down your cheeks as Dave barges into the room, ignoring the cries of protest from the other women, and he immediately comes to your side, kissing your forehead. "Are you okay?" He asks, wanting to make sure you aren't suffering from more than childbirth itself. "I-" You can't speak as you adjust the baby at your breast so Dave can see his face. He looks just like his father. Dave's signature nose and there's no denying who his father is. He doesn't look like Edward at all. "Your son." You mouth, eyes crinkling with happiness as you cradle the baby.

“My son.” Dave murmurs in awe, caressing your cheek and staring down at the babe in your arms. He doesn’t give a damn if they know now that you have been unfaithful to Edward. All that matters is that you and the baby are safe. “Our son, Princess. You have done such a good job.” He kisses your forehead and leans in to kiss the baby. “I love you.” He whispers softly as the baby quiets down when he hears his voice. He had talked to your stomach a lot during the late night hours when he couldn’t sleep.

Daisy isn't dumb. She knows about you and Dave but she has kept it to herself. Edward has treated you horribly during your marriage and she has never seen you so happy when David is around. Your secret is safe with her. You want to kiss him but the midwife is pushing down on your stomach for the afterbirth and you are exhausted. Once the placenta has been accounted for, the midwife carries the baby off to bathe him and weigh him, and Daisy helps you clean up and changes the sheets to let you rest in the bed. Dave remains in the room the entire time, and eventually, the midwife is letting you rest and placing the baby in the bassinet. No one says a word as they exit the room and leave Dave watching over his family. The silence only lasts a few minutes until the baby starts to cry and Dave walks over to the bassinet, quickly scooping his son into his arms. He walks over to the window, looking at his son before he looks up at the stars. "You are destined for incredible things, my boy. You will be the best of me and your mother." He promises, leaning in to kiss the baby's forehead as he settles down in his arms. Dave stands there for a while watching the baby sleep until the door flings open. "Dave, you did not send word! The butler sent a car for me. Let me see him." Edward rushes over to Dave and you are woken up by the noise and your sleepy eyes widen as Dave holds the baby.

“It’s a boy? The driver told me it was a boy.” In his excitement, he doesn’t question why Dave is holding his son and is shocked when your lover pulls back so Edward can’t touch him. “You will not touch my son.” Dave growls, finally allowing his hatred for Edward to shine through his eyes as he looks at the other man in disgust. “That’s right, he’s mine. Your wife is mine. I got her pregnant. I filled her with my seed and satisfied her in ways you could never imagine.” Dave chuckles at the shocked look on Eddie’s face as the maid rushes over to take his son from his arms. “You are through, Edward. I’ve managed to take all your business partners. They will be ending their dealings with you. While you were off fucking your whores, I was replacing you. In business and in your life.” He smirks. “Your wife is in love with me and I’m going to marry her. Give our son my last name and raise him.”

Edward’s eyes widen and he looks over at you, waiting for a denial but you don’t say a word. He knows it’s true. The man he’s trusted most in the world with everything has pulled the rug out from under him. “You motherfucker.” Eddie growls, advancing on Dave and Daisy holds the baby, backing up against the wall. Dave easily dodges the hit and raises his arm to punch your husband in the jaw. “I don’t want to fight you. Just want you to let us walk away.” Dave says as Eddie bows over in pain. “No. No. You can’t take her. She’s mine. She’s my fucking wife. Her family money. It’s mine.” He growls as surges forward to hit Dave again.

Dave blocks the clumsy attempt and his next punch knocks Edward down onto the carpeted floor. Making him groan in pain and Dave points at him. “I’ve killed men, Ed, don’t make me kill you.” He growls, not wanting you to be more upset than you already are. Daisy rushes towards the bed and gives you the baby after you start crying. “Stay down.” He warns, but Edward is too crazed by anger. “You bastard!” He hisses as he struggles to his feet. “You were nothing but a thug when I met you. I made you and you betrayed me?” He lunges forward again and Dave strikes first, punching him in the gut and then giving him another uppercut that damn near knocks the man out as he drops to the ground. “It’s done.” Dave spits.

You shake your head, “please Eddie. Just walk away.” You beg, cradling the baby who is crying at the noise, and Eddie sees you sitting there with a child that is not his and he sees red. “You fucking bitch. You’re a goddamn whore! I should kill you and that bastard in your arms.” He growls and surges forward towards you but Dave grabs him, swinging him around and Edward hisses, grabbing the knife from his belt. Dave spots it immediately and grabs Edward’s arm, twisting it and he doesn’t think. He just acts as he shoves Edward towards the window. The glass breaks as Edward flies out of the third floor window, glass shatters on the floor and Dave watches as the man he considered a friend many years ago plunges to his death. You scream, the baby crying in your arms and you watch Dave inhale deeply, chest heaving as Edward is flung out of the window.

Dave looks down at the broken and bloody body for a second before he looks back at Daisy, his eyes dark. “I- he attacked you.” Daisy stutters, terrified of what she’s just witnessed. “He went crazy and you couldn’t reason with him, Mr. York.” She knows that is the truth, but if the police know that you and Dave had cuckolded Edward, they would arrest him for murder.

You’re shaking as you try to calm the baby, trying to soothe him as your heart pounds. Edward is dead. “Da-Dave.” You stammer, needing reassurance from him, to know he’s okay. You saw the knife and you were terrified that Dave was going to be killed.

His gaze slides from Daisy to you and he softens immediately, rushing over to you and crushing you and the baby to his chest. “It’s okay, it’s over.” He promises you. “He’ll never hurt you again, he’ll never touch our son.” He kisses your forehead several times and then presses his lips to yours before kissing the baby. “It’s okay.” He croons gently. He’s a harsh man, but he would never hurt those he loves and you and his son are at the top of that list. “It’s okay, baby boy. You’re safe, you’re safe with mama and papa.”

You sob as he curls around you, protecting you from everything outside of this room, even your now deceased husband. “I love you.” You murmur, kissing him softly and you cradle the baby. “Please don’t leave me.” You beg, needing him here, needing him to be here with you and the baby. “We need to name our son.” You tell Dave, pulling back to look at him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Dave promises. “What do you want to name him, baby?” He asks softly. Soon the police will be here but he wants to pick out a name first. “We can wait until we are married.” He offers. “Give him my last name officially.”

You nod, “yes. I want him to have your last name. I want to call him Samuel. After your father.” You tell Dave softly. He had told you about his family and you reach up to caress his cheek. “No matter what happens. I love you. I am yours, David York.”

“I love you too.” He promises softly, pressing his lips against yours once more. He had fallen in love with you and tried to stay away. Unable to resist the temptation of you and now he has you, a beautiful son and you will never have to worry about him lifting a hand to you. He will kill for you and his son, he’s already proven that.

****

You remove your earrings, looking at Dave in the mirror of your vanity as he works on taking off his tie and cufflinks. “Last one married off.” He chuckles, setting down the cufflinks on the side. “Five children. Five weddings. Makes me think of ours. The little courthouse wedding we had after the police let you out of questioning and Edward was buried.” You haven’t thought of your ex husband for many years. You and Dave had to wait until Edward was buried before you could be married then your first son was officially a York and so were you. Edward’s estate became yours as his widow and you decided to sell the estate and find somewhere new with David. “I’ve been thinking about that.” Dave hums as he walks over to you and reaches into his pocket. He kneels down and your eyes widen, “baby?” You gasp when he opens a velvet box to display a beautiful diamond ring. “Marry me again. Renew our vows. I want us to have the wedding we should’ve had.” He declares and you sniff, tears gathering in your eyes. “Yes. Always yes.” You promise, leaning in to press your lips to his after you cup his cheeks. “I love you, Dave.” You murmur and he nudges his nose against yours, sliding the ring onto your finger next to the simple gold band he got you for your wedding. “I love you too, Princess.” He promises, “I’d do anything for you.” He murmurs softly and you smile, “even kill.” You remind him and he chuckles, “even kill.” He says and helps you stand up, wanting to remind you how much he loves you. You never imagined that you’d be rescued from a loveless, abusive marriage but Dave was your knight in shining armor.

[corroded-hellfire]

Thanks for the Help - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

A collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs, who I'm eternally thankful for 💛

Summary: The first Thanksgiving as Eddie's girl comes with some unexpected pressures, but also some unexpected kindness.

Note: Happy Thanksgiving!

Words: 5.9k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Did I already get all the ingredients for the green bean casserole out? Oh God, did I set the oven to the right temperature for the turkey? I’m missing a vegetable. What am I missing? Jesus, did the carrots just disappear?

Frantic is an understatement for how you’re scrambling about the kitchen, trying to do twenty things at once. Sure, you’ve cooked meals for people before—hell, you’ve cooked many meals for the Munson family before. But this is Thanksgiving. Arguably the most important meal of the year. You refuse to screw it up. 

What if the boys are disappointed in your cooking? Of course Eddie would say he enjoyed it no matter what, but you want the truth. The boys are good with the truth—for the most part, anyway. Luke can be brutally honest at times. Some days it’s refreshing, some days you wish the kid would keep his mouth shut when he says that the skirt you're wearing is an “old lady skirt.”

Eddie is useless in the kitchen—occasionally detrimental. The boys are too young to be of any great help to you, either. It’s all on you. You’re either going to sink or swim, you’re just having some issues getting into the water. 

This is the first Thanksgiving that the boys aren’t spending with both of their parents. Both you and Eddie were curious how they would react to this, but they don’t seem to be deviating from their usual, cheerful selves at all. Part of you is worried they’re going to compare your cooking to Brittany’s. Will they wish their mom was here cooking instead of you? No, you know with absolute certainty that isn’t the case. Even if they do prefer Brittany’s cooking to yours, there is no way they would want their mother here instead of you. Not to mention that Brittany had scampered off to California to visit her family. Eddie tried to have the conversation with her about where the boys would go, but she just rolled her eyes and told Eddie she already had plans. No Brittany already makes this Thanksgiving better than any he’s had in years. 

For you, this only added pressure—not only were you cooking an entire Thanksgiving dinner, but you also had to ensure that Luke and Ryan weren’t distraught over this abrupt change in family traditions. Eddie has told you many times not to be nervous, but since when did that work for anybody? “Don’t be nervous.” Oh great, thank you for the advice, I’m not nervous anymore!

Last night as you were getting into bed, Eddie could tell you were on edge and tugged you over to lay on his chest so he could hold you. 

“What’s going on?” he’d asked. 

You hadn’t said it out loud to him yet. You knew you could, it’s just embarrassing. Plus, Brittany was never a pleasant topic to discuss. But this is Eddie; you could bare your soul to him, and he’d still be there holding you. 

“I’m scared that I won’t be able to cook as good of a meal as Brittany and the boys will be disappointed,” you’d admitted.

Eddie let out a heavy sigh and softly rubbed up and down your back. 

“Sweetheart, half the time we were at one of her relative’s houses, anyway. Brittany only cooked Thanksgiving a handful of times. You cook far better than she does. The boys are so happy to have you with us this year. I’m so happy to have you. Plus, I’m the alternative here. Anything you make will be a masterpiece compared to whatever I’d come up with.” 

His words had soothed you a little, but when you woke up this morning, the dread still slithered throughout your chest. You feel a bit more relaxed when you see two sleepy-headed boys coming down the hall in their pajamas. Luke’s curls are a mess—more so than usual. And Ryan has a few sections of his hair that are standing straight up. What do these kids do in their sleep?

“Good morning,” you greet them.

“Mornin’,” Ryan mumbles. You only get a half-hearted wave from Luke in response. 

“You guys want some cereal?” you ask. It might be a nice break from searching for ingredients and running around in circles.

“S’the parade on yet?” Luke asks before letting out the longest yawn that you’ve ever heard. 

“About seven more minutes, bud,” you tell him. “Cereal?”

“Yes, please,” Ryan says. 

“Sure!” Luke adds. 

You turn to Eddie, who is leaning up against the counter and inspecting his fingernails like he has not a care in the world. “Um, babe?”

“Ya?”

“Can you get the boys their breakfast?” The request is terse, your anxiety amplifying your frustration that he’s taking up space in the kitchen without doing anything. 

Eddie throws Lucky Charms and milk in plastic bowls and brings them over to his sons, flipping through the channels until he gets to one showing the parade. Ryan and Luke buzz with excitement as the New York Fire Department kicks off the event, oversized balloons trailing not far behind. 

“I could be one of those balloon string people,” Luke says as a gigantic Garfield floats by. 

Ryan rolls his eyes. “It would carry you away,” he answers with a smirk. 

Luke’s eyes light up, excited by the prospect of this impromptu voyage. “Where?”

“Over the rainbow. In Munchkinland,” Ryan deadpans, crunching on his cereal. 

“Hey, Scarecrow, Tin Man, be nice,” Eddie says and picks up a couch pillow to bop each of them on the head with from behind, making his way back over to where you’re prepping veggies.

He comes up behind you, resting his hands on your hips. “Baby, did you even have breakfast yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar,” you say distractedly, trying to find the right page in a cookbook.

Eddie shakes his head and smiles. “Sweetheart, come on. Sit down with me. Eat something.”

“I have to get the turkey in the oven and get everything else prepped so I’m not scrambling for ingredients…” you explain, closing a drawer with your hip. 

He laughs kindly. “And you will, right after you eat an actual meal. You won’t be much of a chef if you faint.”

“Just let me make sure I have all the ingredients for the green bean casserole. I know it’s in this damn book somewhere.” You lick your forefinger as you flip through the pages on a mission to find the recipe. 

Eddie sighs and drops his forehead down to your shoulder. He knew you were going to put too much pressure on yourself today, even after he tried to explain to you last night that there’s no reason to stress about anything. At this point, any further reassurance would likely be a waste of breath, so he just grabs a slice of carrot and absentmindedly pops it in his mouth. 

You can no longer hide your frustration, even if you wanted to. “Eddie, what the hell?” Anger seeps through your gritted teeth when you chastise him. 

“Hmm?”

For fuck’s sake, you think, sighing in annoyance. “You’re eating the ingredients!”

“It was one carrot slice!”

When you glare at him, Eddie puts his hands up in surrender and starts to back away, nearly bumping right into Ryan. 

“Uh uh,” Eddie says, shaking his head when his oldest son drops his empty bowl in the sink. “Kitchen’s gonna have enough going on today. Wash your bowl and put it away, please.”

Ryan does as he’s told, though his mind wanders back to all the things he learned about Thanksgiving at school this week. He looks over at you while you prep the turkey, a huge grin on his face. 

“Did you know they don’t think there really was a turkey at the first Thanksgiving? Oh! And the first Thanksgiving lasted three days!”

You’re only half listening as you focus on basting the bird up with butter, careful not to miss a spot. 

“That’s pretty cool, Ry,” you say with half-hearted enthusiasm. 

“And they think there were only five women there. That’s crazy!” Ryan continues. 

Luke wanders into the kitchen and Ryan tells him what Eddie did—to wash and put away his bowl. He does, but not as willingly or thoroughly as his brother. 

Once the boys go back out to watch the rest of the parade, you breathe a sigh of relief. Now maybe you can chop the rest of the carrots without accidentally slicing a finger. 

The agitation that’s built up in you over the course of the morning starts to abate as you’re able to get a few tasks accomplished. You wash your hands in the sink, hoping the lemon scent of the soap will take some of the stench of onion off of them. As you turn around to grab a paper towel, Ryan strolls back into the kitchen. You hate the surge of irritation that floods through you. Ryan didn’t do anything wrong; he’s just walking around his own home.

“Can I help?” he asks, adorable smile on display. 

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you say as you look around at all the supplies spread out on the countertops. Anything that needs to be done next involves a knife, the oven, or stove. Nothing that Ryan is old enough to work with. “I’ll let you know when there’s something I need you for, okay?”

“Okay,” he says with a shrug.

Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. Maybe now he’ll go back out with Luke or go bug Eddie. But he stays in the kitchen, bouncing around on the balls of his feet as he looks at the different ingredients that are out. 

“President Lincoln is the one who made Thanksgiving a national holiday. In 1863!”

Two things you would never do are tell one of the boys to shut up or discourage them from learning. The little devil on your shoulder wants you to do exactly that, though. Before you can say anything, Luke skips into the kitchen and glides over the linoleum floor with his socked feet. He pushes past his older brother to be closer to you.

“We learned all ‘bout the Mayflower! And the Pur…purit…purg…uh…” he trails off.

“Puritans?” you say, tone harsher than you intended. Luckily, neither of the boys notice. 

Luke pipes up this time. “I made a pilgrim hat in school, but then it, um, it broke.”

Ryan cocks a curious eyebrow. “It broke? How?”

“I sat on it.”

Eddie sees the boys getting underfoot and swoops in. “Parade’s back on,” he reports, ushering them back over to the couch before spinning around to face you. “I can help chop, if that’ll help.”

You begrudgingly agree, handing him a knife and a butternut squash. 

He hasn’t even been at the task for two minutes when he yelps, “son of a bitch!”

You jump, startled by the sudden noise. “Wh-What?” you ask at the same time the boys call out, “swear jar!” in unison. 

“Cut my finger,” Eddie mumbles, shoving his forefinger in his mouth while you huff and grab a paper towel. “Jeez, it was an accident. What’s going on with you?”

You massage the bridge of your nose, feeling like you have three kids in the house instead of just two. “Nothing,” you reply, fist clenched, “just…go put a Band-Aid on.”

With his dad occupied in another room, Ryan wanders into the kitchen. 

“Did you know that female turkeys don’t gobble?”

Did you know that this female human is about to lose her patience? You keep the snark to yourself, though part of you thinks your tongue will fall off with how much you’ve been biting it today. 

You’re the first one to listen to what the boys did in school, what they learned, and help them with their homework. You read with them, quiz them, even hit them with your own trivia tidbits. On any other occasion you’d absolutely love this. But now? Now it’s grating on you like sandpaper against your skin. 

“It’s a commercial,” Luke announces as he joins the gang in the kitchen. He stays quiet for a moment, and with your back to him since you’re checking the potatoes on the stove, you think he may have left, but then you hear, “can we get McDonalds?”

Luckily, Ryan answers for you. “No, it’s Thanksgiving!”

“Oh. Right.”

When Eddie returns, one of the boys’ SpongeBob SquarePants Band-Aids wrapped around his finger, he presses a kiss to your cheek. You start to smile, feeling yourself relax until you watch him skim some of the fried onions for the green bean casserole. 

“Boys, do you wanna help?” Your palms tightly gripping the edge of the countertop is the only thing keeping you from imploding. 

“Yes!” Luke begins to jump up and down, flashing a gigantic smile. 

“What can we do?” Ryan asks, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder to prevent him from going airborne. 

You muster up all of the enthusiasm you can, which isn’t much. “It’s a very important job. Are you guys up for it?”

“Yeah!” they cheer in unison.

“Okay.” You lean in as though sharing a precious secret. “I need you to be my little security guards. Your dad,” you gesture to Eddie, “has sticky fingers and keeps stealing ingredients. Can you two keep an eye on everything to make sure he doesn’t take anything else?”

“Aye aye!” Luke salutes like he’s taking orders in the military.

“He’ll never get past us!” Ryan promises.

Eddie raises his fingers from behind them. “And, um, what can I do?” he asks.

“You wanna help? Uh…set the table?” you offer with a shrug.

You can vaguely hear him mumble under his breath about that being a kid’s job; the boys hear it, too, and they laugh. 

“It’s like you’re the kid and we’re the grown-ups!” Ryan giggles. Eddie ignores him and puts down placemats. 

Both Luke and Ryan take their job very seriously; every time Eddie even looks in your direction, they’re on high alert, shooing him away. This gives you a bit of peace and allows you to accomplish more tasks than when you had three Munsons trampling through the kitchen like wildebeests. 

The apartment buzzer rings, followed by a cheery, Southern accent-twanged, “it’s me!”

“GRANDPA!” Luke shouts, bolting for the door. He buzzes Wayne in while Eddie reaches over his head to unbolt the lock. 

Wayne walks through the door a few minutes later, carrying an apple pie just as he promised. His brows crease when he takes in the sight of you practically tripping over the boys in the kitchen, trying to do everything yourself. 

“You’re not helping her?” he asks his nephew, a slight accusation in his tone. 

Eddie holds up his bandaged finger. “I’ve been banished.”

Wayne pulls him aside, dropping his volume to a whisper. “I’ll work on dinner. You go cheer up your girl before she starts to cry.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Cheer her up, like…right now?”

Confusion contorts Wayne’s mouth for just a moment. “What…oh, Jesus. Not like that. Just give her a pep talk.” He shakes his head disapprovingly. “What are you, a goddamn animal?”

“Take a break, darlin’.” Wayne says, turning to you. “I can handle things in here.” This much you know from his countless stories as an army cook. 

With the eldest Munson controlling the kitchen, Eddie takes the opportunity to pull you aside, into the bedroom. He puts his hands on your shoulders. “Can you take a deep breath for me, babe?” He smiles when you inhale for three seconds and then exhale slowly. “Look, I know you want this to be perfect, but I’m gonna love you whether we have the fanciest dinner or PB&Js.”

You try your best to listen to him, but there’s still this nagging sensation in your brain. “But the boys—”

“Sweetheart, they think Kraft mac and cheese is the pinnacle of fine cuisine. They just want to spend time with you.”

You nod, logically knowing that Eddie is right, but your mind still not fully accepting it. 

“I want to make it the best it can be for them.”

Despite your stressed out and anxious state, Eddie can’t help but smile. It’s an adoring smile as he pulls you against his chest. He presses a few soft kisses to the side of your head before resting his own against it.

“I love how much you love them,” he says. “You know what would make this the best Thanksgiving for them? Including them, just like you did. I know they had to be driving you up the wall, but you didn’t tell them to quit it or get out. Instead, you gave them jobs and made them feel important. Princess, all they want—all we all want—is to sit around the table with the people we love and eat and laugh and just enjoy the time together.”

“That sounds lovely,” you admit with a dreamy sigh that makes Eddie chuckle.

“This is already my favorite Thanksgiving,” he tells you. ‘All my favorite people are under one roof. The delicious food you make is just going to be the icing on the cake.”

“We have pie, not cake,” you tease, poking a finger into Eddie’s chest. But your lips do quirk up in the approximation of a smile. Eddie takes this as a win and gives you a big smacking kiss on your forehead.

Wayne has a well-oiled machine going when you walk back into the kitchen. He hardly even looks tired; he completely has control over the situation. Since Eddie was busy in the other room talking with you, your small security guards are apparently taking a break from their shifts.

Ryan is still spouting out facts to his grandfather about the holiday. Now, it makes you chuckle as you listen to him giving a history lecture. Between Wayne swooping in to be your hero and Eddie trying to calm you down, there’s less pressure on you. You’re able to appreciate the enthusiasm of the boys and how they’re getting into the spirit of the holiday. With one more deep breath, you know you’re ready to get back in the kitchen and work alongside Wayne.

“Grandpa,” Ryan says as Wayne checks on the turkey. “I’ll tell you this because I know Daddy won’t care. Football on Thanksgiving didn’t become a tradition until 1876!” 

“Huh,” you muse as you open a can of green beans. “Do you know who it was between?”

“It was Yale and Princeton!”

Of course he knows that, too. Ryan never ceases to amaze you. You’re pretty sure he knows more now than you ever will. Maybe you could get him to help you with your statistics course that’s being a pain in the ass. You chuckle at the thought of Ryan attempting to explain the equations to you, getting frustrated every time you just stare at him in confusion.

Eddie walks into the kitchen and looks around, eyes landing on his eldest son.

“All I heard was, ‘Daddy won’t care.’ What exactly wouldn’t I care about?”

“Football,” Ryan says.

“You got that right,” Eddie says and musses up Ryan’s hair. “Could be worse though—at least it’s not basketball.”

Luke frowns. “Why don’t you like basketball?”

Wayne shakes his head like don’t get him started.

“All they do is shoot balls into laundry baskets! And they’re already, like, seven feet tall! It’s barely a challenge!” Eddie’s whiny protests are adorable, though it’s very clear that’s not his intention.

Luke shuffles over and whispers in Ryan’s ear, “I wonder if it’s ‘cause Uncle Steve and Uncle Lucas were on the team and were better than Daddy at it.”

The two children–or three really, with how Eddie’s been acting today–take their sports arguments into the living room while you and Wayne continue to cook.

“I gotta tell ya,” the older man says as he measures out the butter to put in the mashed potatoes, “I’ve never seen Eddie and the boys like this.”

“What, acting the same age?” you tease with a smirk.

Wayne chuckles and shakes his head. “Wasn’t gonna be what I said, but that don’t come as a shock to me neither. No, I ain’t ever seen them so happy before. Not ‘cause it’s a holiday and they’re all excited; in general. They’re happier overall. And that’s ‘cause of you.”

Emotion tightens your throat. To know that Wayne can see from an outside perspective that Eddie and the boys are happier having you around? It makes you feel light as air, but you could also burst into tears. Not of sadness, or even happiness really, just tears of so much emotion building up inside of you. Luckily, you don’t have to come up with anything to say because Wayne continues talking.

“I know the two of ya haven’t been together that long,” Wayne says with a shrug, “but I can tell by the way you two look at each other.”

“He’s my person,” you agree, managing to squeak the words out.

“I can’t wait to be at your wedding someday,” he says, emotion clear in his voice as well. “Think I might be almost as excited as those two knuckleheads out there. The small ones, that is. Darlin’, you fit right in with our family.”

In all the time you’ve known Wayne, you’ve never heard him open up like this. To anyone, let alone you. The two of you made friendly conversation when you were still the babysitter and have had some pretty long conversations with one another now that you’re Eddie’s girl. But nothing like this. It makes you take his words even more to heart; you do fit in with this family.

“That means a lot,” you say in a soft voice. Shyness suddenly creeps up in you. “I just want to make this extra special for all of them, especially now that they don’t live together full-time.”

A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, startling you. 

“Mine.” Eddie punctuates his declaration with a kiss to your cheek. You giggle and turn around in his arms, only to find he’s snagged a green bean from the bowl. 

“Eddie Munson, I swear to God!”

The nerves that had dissipated over the course of the day start to work their way back up as all the food is set on the table and everyone begins to take a seat. You have no doubt that some of the dishes will taste great, but those would certainly have been made by Wayne. If anything on the table is bad, you’re sure that will fall in your lap.

As if he can read your mind, Eddie slips an arm around you and presses a kiss to your temple.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers.

You follow his instructions and take your seat at the table, right next to Ryan. Eddie’s seat is at your other side, the head of the table–if it could even be called that with a table this small. 

Everyone but your boyfriend is seated, but Luke looks like he’s ready to dive headfirst into the sweet potato casserole. When the turkey had come out of the oven a little while ago, Eddie asked if Wayne wanted to have the honor of carving it. His uncle just shook his head and told Eddie that’s his job now. 

Now, Eddie stands in front of the turkey, and as you look up at him, you can see a smile quirking the corners of his lips. He clears his throat and looks out at his family sitting around him. Making a toast wasn’t something Eddie planned on doing today, but in the moment it feels right.

“So, uh, this Thanksgiving looks different for all of us this year. It’s been a bit of a weird year, but it led us to this. All of us being at this table right now with each other. Looking around at everyone’s faces I’m pretty sure everyone is smiling a little bigger, too.” Eddie lifts his glass. “My favorite people in the world are all right here with me. You all are what I’m most thankful for—not just today, but every day. So, cheers to a happy Thanksgiving.”

Everyone clinks their glasses together, and Luke makes sure that everyone has touched their own glass to everyone else’s. To no one’s surprise, Luke is also the first one to comment on the food once everyone has dug in.

“I wanna eat this food every day.” He shoves a forkful of green bean casserole in his mouth as if to prove his point.

“It really is great, sweetheart,” Eddie concurs. He reaches over and rubs his hand along your arm affectionately. Purely in a teasing manner, Wayne clears his throat, which leaves Eddie to add, “And you too, Uncle Chef Boyardee.”

Ryan’s too busy stuffing his face to speak, but it makes you chuckle at how focused he is on the food. Normally, Luke’s the one with that appetite intensity. He slows down quickly though, his eyes far bigger than his belly. His fork trails through some butter pooled in a small puddle on his plate when he gets an idea.

“Let's say what we’re thankful for! Grandpa first.”

“Easy,” Wayne says once he’s swallowed his mouthful of food. “Family.”

“New traditions,” Eddie says when Ryan points at him. Next, the finger is aimed in your direction.

“Love and acceptance.” 

Eddie’s leg purposefully brushes against yours, so you gently tap your foot against his.

“I’m thankful for you!” Ryan grins up at you, two missing baby teeth only adding to his adorableness. He wraps both of his arms around your one and gives it a hug. “I’m so happy I get to see you more.”

“It makes me happy too,” you say as you rest your head against his, emotions once again threatening to get the better of you. “I have so much fun with you guys.”

Luke takes it upon himself to announce what he’s thankful for since all attention is currently diverted away from him. 

“I’m thankful no one’s got scurvy, and for my dog,” the six-year-old announces.

“Luke, you don’t have a dog,” Eddie says.

The little boy shrugs before spearing a piece of turkey on his fork.

“That’s what you think.”

You, Eddie, and Wayne all share confused expressions that lead you to giggle, which in turn has everyone at the table laughing as well. 

Eddie and the boys do most of the clearing of the table when everyone’s finished, since they didn’t cook, but you and Wayne pitch in as well. Right after Luke puts a dirty bowl in the sink, he gasps and bolts out of the room. If it were anyone else, one of you might question it, but it’s Luke.

He runs back in and slides to a stop right in front of you. The way he starts jumping up and down makes you worry that he’ll puke, so you gently rest your hands on his shoulders to keep him grounded. 

“I made this for you!” He proudly brandishes a hand turkey he made at school. “I made it ‘specially for you!”

“For me?” you ask, your hand coming up to rest on your chest. 

“Yes! I knew as soon as we started making ‘em in class, I wanted to give mine to you.”

This is the one. This is the straw that broke the camel’s back today that has the tears finally emerging. You bend down to give Luke a big hug, trying to hide the tears while doing so–you’re not sure if he’d understand that you’re crying for a good reason. 

“Thank you,” you tell him. “I love it so much. Can I put it on the refrigerator?”

“Uh huh.”

You move a few scattered magnets out of the way to place the hand turkey front and center on the fridge. It gets held up with a magnet shaped like a heart–which Luke made at school for Valentine’s Day. While you’re busy admiring your new favorite art exhibit, Eddie and Ryan have left the kitchen and headed into the living room. You don’t even notice until there’s a crash in the room just a few feet away.

“We’re okay!” Eddie calls. “Just a VHS avalanche.”

Chuckling to yourself, you walk out of the kitchen and tilt your head in curiosity. 

“What’re we watching?”

Ryan holds a VHS up over his head in triumph, leaving Eddie to be the sole person to clean up the avalanche of fallen movies. 

“A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!”

Luke comes into the room behind you and taps your hip to get your attention. “Are you going to watch the movie with us?” 

“Of course I am,” you say, giving his curls a ruffle. “I love this movie. But I love you Munsons even more.” 

A grin so bright lights up Luke’s face that it leaves you a little surprised. He looks more excited than when you told him he had most of this week off from school the other day.

Eddie gets up now that the VHS tapes are fixed.

“Why don’t you two put the movie in?” he asks as he walks over towards you. “Babe, will you help me put the pie in the oven?”

“Sure,” you say, a little confused about what he’d need help with. Opening the oven, putting the pie in, and then closing it seems like a pretty simple task. 

Eddie takes your hand and leads you into the kitchen. He stops right in front of the oven and peeks over your shoulder to make sure the boys didn’t follow. When he sees the coast is clear, he rests his hands on your hips and gives you a small smile.

“You just looked a little confused about Luke’s reaction,” he says, before smirking and adding, “I may not be a competent cook, but I can put a pie in the oven by myself.” 

“I’ll still be here for supervision if you need it,” you tease. “But yeah, Luke looked like someone just told him he was getting that dog, not that I’m watching a movie.”

Your boyfriend sighs and rubs his hands up and down your sides, letting his thumbs dip under the hem of your shirt.

“We watch The Charlie Brown Thanksgiving every year; it’s a tradition. Brittany never watched it with us, though. She’d either be too tired, had to make a phone call, blah blah blah… So, not only the fact that you’re watching it with us, but you’re happy to watch it with us is something new to him.”

Tears flood your eyes, and you feel your heart double in size in your chest. You’re pretty sure this day is going to kill you before it’s out.

“I didn’t realize it meant that much to him.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says with an adoring smile. “You mean that much to him. To Ryan. To Wayne! God damn, I thought the old man was gonna stick me in the oven when he saw how stressed out you were.”

You let out a soft giggle and take both of his hands in your own. “I don’t think Roast Eddie would have been as good as the turkey.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “I have it on good authority that I taste delicious.”

“You’re a perv!”

As if to prove your point, Eddie grabs your ass.

“Only for you, babe.” He laughs and takes a deep breath. “But I really am sorry that I stressed you out today. I’m so used to you having everything under control; it didn’t occur to me that you could’ve used my support.”

You nod and give the one hand you’re still holding a small squeeze. “It’s okay. And now we know for next year.”

Next year. Because you’re going to be here next year, and every year after that. You’re his girl, part of his family, and he intends to make sure it stays that way. 

Eddie grabs the pre-made pie out of the freezer and pops it into the oven. He wipes his hands off on his jeans and takes full advantage of the two of you being alone to pull your body up against his. You think he’s leaning in for a kiss, but he leans in and licks the tip of your nose. The unexpectedness makes you giggle and wrinkle up your face.

“Are you sure you’re the older one in this relationship?” you question.

“Older, yeah. More mature? Never claimed that.” He gives your ass a playful swat before heading back out to the living room, you following along behind him.

Eddie plops down on the couch, Wayne already comfy in the La-Z-Boy recliner next to it. You sit down on the couch as well but leave space between you and Eddie in case either of the boys wants to sit there. Both manage to squeeze themselves between you, making both of you chuckle as you scoot toward the respective arms of the couch. Ryan is on the cushion with Eddie, while Luke sits by your side. 

As Eddie hits play on the remote, Luke shifts at your side. He keeps moving and squirming around, never seeming to get comfortable. It’s not unusual for him to be a hyperactive kid but he’s usually ensnared by movies the moment they come on. 

“You okay?” you ask him.

He nods twice and looks up at you, a hesitant expression on his face. 

“Can you, um… Can I, uh…” He trails off, looking at your arm closest to him. It takes a moment for your brain to figure out what he wants. Happily, you lift your arm and give Luke a smile. He immediately curls into your side, and you wrap your arm around him. You have to take deep breaths to keep yourself from crying for what feels like the millionth time today. You’ve run the gambit of emotions these past twelve hours, so it’s nice to sit here and relax.

You look over and see Eddie watching the two of you, also grinning. Ryan is leaning into Eddie’s side, but not curled up and close like Luke is with you. Needing to express your emotions in some way, you lean down and press a kiss into Luke’s messy curls. His head pops up and he looks at you. Slowly, a big smile spreads on his face, identical to his father’s. Luke leans up and presses a kiss to your cheek before resuming his previous position tucked into your side. This time, a few tears do leak out–you’re just careful not to let them fall on the small boy.

As the movie gets going, you take a second to look at the others in the room; Wayne, relaxing with a can of Diet Pepsi in his hand and watching the movie. Eddie, the television screen reflecting in his big brown eyes. He grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and lays it across his and Ryan’s laps. Then Ryan, who pulls the blanket up to his chin and snuggles back against the cushions to watch the movie. Last but not least, little Luke. The mini-Eddie. A ball of energy one moment, melting your heart with his sweet words the next. 

You smile to yourself and whisper, not loud enough for anyone else to hear, “God, I’m so thankful for you all.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 28

Part 1 Part 27

Steve drifts. Time slips. He’s hiding in his closet for the first time, five and small enough that he still fits beneath the hanging clothes without them brushing the top of his head. He’d crawled in after bedtime, the darkness of the small space preferable to the raised voices coming up the stairs.

“If you’re going to be whoring yourself out—” his Mom yells.

“Oh, that’s rich,” his Dad interrupts, words slurring a little like they sometimes do at night before he gets mean.

“—then all I ask is for a little fucking discretion!”

As the voices pass his closed bedroom door, Steve wonders if there really are monsters that hide in kid’s closets at night like Tommy said. He hopes his monster is nice, will maybe play with him until his Mom and Dad go to bed.

He’s thirteen, too old to still be such a baby. But his parents have been out of town for three days on a business trip.

He’s old enough to stay on his own. Can cook his own meals and get himself to school. But the thunder had started, and he’d been crawling into his closet without thinking.

It feels just as safe as it always does.

He’s fifteen, in his closet, pretending not to be home so he doesn’t have to go to another luncheon with his Dad’s business partners, being paraded around like he isn’t a disappointment.

He’s seventeen, pulling a boy in behind him, the world gone wrong around them. Red and empty and hostile. His body feels like one big bruise.

He’s not sure the closed doors will be enough this time.

He’s seventeen and dying alone.

“Three days,” he says aloud, like Eddie’s still beside him and Eddie’s telling him how long they can survive without water.

His pulse is thready, can feel it pulsing in his neck as he coughs. But it’s still there, heart pumping what blood he has left. So, it’s been less than three days.

He stays where he is, hoping he wakes up and he’s back home. Or even that he wakes up and it’s that first night again, Eddie crouching in the closet next to him so he doesn’t have to feel so fucking alone.

Doesn’t want to die, forgotten in a closet, body never recovered. Steve Harrington wants to live. For Eddie. For Will. For himself.

He doesn’t get up. There’s nowhere to go, even if he had the strength to stand.

He drifts.

There’s a girl there. Steve’s not sure when he is, but there’s a girl here. Her eyes look too big in her skull, made even larger by her shaved head. Her pink dress looks dirty, ragged and worn. Steve wonders if he knows her, can’t remember her face.

“You okay?” he asks.

She blinks her big eyes at him, looking sad and confused as she knees down next him in the small space by his side that he’d been saving for Eddie.

“Your friends,” she says, stilted but clear, “they’re coming.”

For the first time, Steve worries that this is now, and she’s here. “Eddie?”

She nods.

“Hurry,” he says, desperate to not be alone. Desperate for Eddie and Will to be here with him. But then he remembers that thing, the way his arms feels numb, his brain fuzzy. The shotgun he’d dropped in the forest.

“Just hold on a little longer, Steve.”

“Wait,” he says, remembering the price of his own desires. “Tell him not to come.”

“Steve?” she asks.

“Don’t come!” he demands, voice cracking. “Okay? Tell him not to come!”

“Steve!” she calls.

Steve blinks, and he’s alone.

Part 29

[idyllicwillowtree]

Smitten Kittens

Genre: Eddie Munson x fem!reader; fluff

Summary: Eddie helps out a very special cat who turns out to be yours. 

Word count: 3.3K

Warnings: light drug-use, swearing, illusions to bad parental relationships/toxic parents, reader is called ‘Ms. Y/L/N’ at one point, Eddie-centric, Eddie being a crazy cat lady

Author’s note: Loosely based off of me and my cat <3 ; pictures found on pinterest

Main Masterlist

_______________________________________________

4:37. Every morning Eddie’s body wakes him up at 4:37 and no matter how long he lays in bed or how late he stays up he can’t go back to sleep. He could have his eyes closed, unmoving for hours and still his mind would not allow him anymore rest. 

That’s where his little friend Mary-Jane comes in handy.

His uncle, Wayne, is usually still at work at this time so Eddie doesn’t bother being gentle as he swung the front door open, a joint dangling from his chapped lips and a couple cans of tuna in his hand. 

Stepping out of his muggy trailer, he took a deep breath of fresh morning air as goosebumps emerged on his skin. In preparation for the sun to rise, the night sky became a dark blue mixing with the yellow street lamps, light enough for Eddie not to use a flashlight. He plopped himself down on his front steps, his sock covered feet avoiding the dewy grass below by setting them on the last wooden step.

He lit up his joint, taking a deep inhale and enjoying a short moment alone before gently tapping the tuna can with his lighter.

“Purrrrow?”

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie clutched his chest before turning towards the noise, “Oh, there you are Ozzy.”

When Eddie started using weed to help him sleep in the middle of the night he slowly made some new furry friends. Once he set a precedent that the stray cats could come to him for a snack, he became the unofficial cat-guy of the trailer park. 

Something about taking care of the mangy little beasts of the neighborhood made him feel important. Knowing there were four starving cats out there that turned to him for comfort filled him with a sense of purpose. Something he doesn’t always get with the people in his life.

As he starts filling the large dog dish he leaves outside with the fishy treat, the rest of his cat gang arrives, greeting him with quiet chirps, excited purring, and vertical tails. 

Ozzy was the leader, a short-haired tabby that was pure muscle. He usually sported an intimidating glare as he watched over the other cats, keeping them protected and in line. His right-pawed man was a skinny gray cat Eddie named Dio. He was the only one who let Eddie hold him, never clawing to get away, but still preferring to keep all four paws on land. Then there was Dungeon and Dragon, two orange cats attached at the hip and always getting into trouble. Dungeon was very talkative while Dragon was the most affectionate. 

Eddie continued smoking his joint, blowing the smoke in the opposite direction of the eating cats. He listened as their loud smacking and happy purrs echoed in the dish.

Ozzy abruptly stopped eating, eyes zeroed in on something under Eddie’s trailer porch to his right. The cat’s back immediately puffed, fur standing up on its own. He let out an aggressive hiss followed by a yowl that sent a chill down Eddie’s spine. The rest of the cats perked up in curiosity. 

“Please don’t be a raccoon,” Eddie mumbled to himself as he leaned over to get a better look.

Suddenly, a tentative black paw emerged from the shadow of the porch. The most beautiful cat Eddie had ever seen revealed herself, delicately sniffing at the fishy morning air.

Ozzy was not about to share his food with this new cat, making it known through his loud yowling that Dio soon joined in on. Dungeon and Dragon’s ears were pulled back, hissing at the new arrival.

Eddie watched as the cat timidly backed up under the porch again, not wanting any trouble but still eyeing their leftover tuna. 

“Alright guys, that’s enough,” Eddie began gently shooing the clowder of cats away. They all snapped out of it and scampered off to do whatever it is they usually do when they’re done with their breakfast. Not before Ozzy could send one last hiss in the direction of the black cat.

 “Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re a big tough guy. Go on.” 

Pleased with himself, Ozzy trotted away in the direction of his pack. Once they were gone, Eddie finally got a good look at black cat who, once again, was making her way out of hiding.

In comparison to the rest of the cats, this one stuck out like a sore thumb. While the others were matted flea-covered strays, this cat had perfectly groomed long hair that looked particularly soft and fluffy. Her neon green eyes were clear and bright and her ears remained pointed and intact. 

After she made sure all the other cats were gone, she immediately perked up and began approaching Eddie with her fluffy tail pointing towards the sky.

“Meow?”

“Hi there,” Eddie said gently. “You’re new.”

Eddie slowly lifted his hand, pointer finger stretched out towards the feline. She sniffed at it attentively before dragging her cheek across his short nails repeatedly. Eddie got the hint and started scratching behind her ears and down her spine, watching happily as she leaned into his touch before getting distracted by the leftover fish. 

She was even softer than he imagined.

Eddie knew she didn’t belong out here, she’s too healthy and social to be an outdoor cat or a stray. His heart ached at the thought of someone out there looking for this sweet and loving companion. He knew he needed to help her find her home.

“In the meantime, I bestow upon you the title of ‘Sabbath’. Pretty metal, huh?”

“Purrrrow?”

“Exactly.”

Eddie cautiously scooped her up, pleasantly surprised by how easy this was for her. She immediately settled in his grip and turned to wrap her paws around his neck, nuzzling affectionately into his long hair. 

Eddie took a moment with her, enjoying the feeling of her vibrating purrs against his chest, before heading back inside and to bed. The purring heals his heart a bit, it’s nice having someone around who offers their love to him without needing anything in return.

As soon as Eddie sets her down on the comforter, she spins around a couple times before passing out, Eddie falling asleep not long after.

 _______________________________________________

Eddie was sitting in class hunched over his notebook, planning out the next Dungeons and Dragons campaign for Hellfire. He was so focused he didn’t even realize the rest of the class packed up their things and left already.

“Mr. Munson, class is dismissed,” the teacher pointed out tiredly.

“You sure you want me to go, Mr. K?” Eddie said slyly, knowing Mr. Kowcheski hates the nickname, “we could talk about our feelings? Who have you been crushing on these days?”

Mr. Kowcheski deadpanned at the delinquent for a long moment before looking past him.

“You too, Ms. Y/L/N. Class is over.”

Eddie turned around, noticing you were still there for the first time. You sat slumped in your chair with a slack expression and wet dull eyes as you stared at the linoleum floor. You jumped slightly and blushed from the attention, eyes jumping around the room.

“S-sorry Mr. Kowcheski,” your voice wavered as you shakily gathered your things and made a break for it, Eddie following close behind.

He’s not sure what possessed him to approach you, but he knew he needed to make sure you were okay. 

 You never gave Eddie a reason to hate you, always sending him shy smiles and letting him borrow a pencil whenever he asked. You were a breath of fresh air in a school full of stale and rotten posers who made his life a living nightmare.

Everytime Eddie’s eyes wandered to you in class, you were always paying close attention and absorbing the lecture through taking notes and asking questions. He always admired that about you. That’s why it was so strange seeing you so zoned out that you didn’t even realize the bell had already rung.

“Hey, you okay?” Eddie said, catching up to you in the hallway.

“Huh? O-oh hi Eddie. What’s up?”

Now that Eddie was closer, he could see your red-trimmed eyes and dark bags as you avoided his gaze. Your usual up-beat tone of voice was now scratchy and tired. Eddie felt sadness and worry flip through his stomach at the sight.

“Nothing, I just wanted to see if you were okay,” he tilted his head, trying to catch your eye, “You don’t seem like your normal self.”

Eddie could tell by the way your eyes widened and your breathing stuttered that he caught you off guard. Once you gather your bearings, you offer him a shy smile that comes as quickly as it goes.

“Thanks, Eddie. I’m fine,” you looked down at your shoes, shaking your head solemnly. “It’s…it’s stupid. But thanks anyway,” you said, voice breaking along with Eddie’s heart.

You walked away before he could press any further. 

_______________________________________________

Now that school was out, Eddie could finally head home and brainstorm ideas on how to return Sabbath to her rightful home.

 Eddie sauntered through the trailer door, shopping bags full of canned cat food in tow, as he shook the rain from his wet hair like a dog. He turned to Wayne, lounging in his usual spot on the armchair, only this time he wasn’t alone.

“Boy, if you don’t get this damn cat off of me…”

Sabbath looked perfectly happy, stretched out on Wayne’s jean covered legs. Blissfully unaware that he wanted her off of him. Or maybe she just didn’t care. She sent Eddie, what could only be described as a smile as he walked over and delicately scooped her up. She protested a little with a long closed mouth “mew”, then settled into his arms, hugging him around the neck once more.

Wayne looked up at Eddie, ocean eyes flooded with disapproval.

“I know, I know. It’s the last time I swear,” Eddie defended.

His Uncle stayed silent.

“I couldn’t just leave the poor thing, she wouldn’t have survived. She’s a lover, not a fighter!”

Wayne's face stayed the same, only lifting the corner of his brow at him.

“I’m looking for her owner, I swear. She definitely belongs to someone.”

At that, Wayne lifted himself from his armchair with an “old man grunt”, as Eddie liked to call it. His Uncle gave him a loving pat on the shoulder as he walked past him, heading to the bathroom to get ready for his night shift at the plant. 

Eddie spent the rest of the evening making posters out of cheap printer paper, writing on them with a giant black magic marker. 

“Found Cat

Black, long hair, green eyes”

Eddie added his phone number and called it good. It wasn’t much to go off of, but he figured there couldn’t be too many missing black cats out there in Hawkins.

Eddie flicked the pen cap towards Sabbath, watching as she swatted it off the edge of the table and chased it around. Soon she riled herself up so much that the zoomies overcame her, running from one end of the trailer all the way into Eddie’s room and back again. He found himself completely entertained just by watching this cat do cat things that a couple hours went by without him even noticing.

Eddie was hoping the rain would subside but this was Indiana, the weather never did what you wanted it to do. He wanted to get the word out sooner, but it’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Not that he was complaining. Fondness blossomed in his chest as Sabbath trotted over to him and rubbed the top of her soft head against his chin. Then she settled on his lap for the rest of the evening.

_______________________________________________

6:14. This morning, Eddie managed to sleep in. Although he would’ve much rather slept longer, he was pleasantly surprised to have a couple extra hours. 

That was until he realized why he had woken up. Sabbath was meowing continuously, barely stopping to breathe. Jumping back and forth from the pillow Eddie was resting his head on, to the top of his dresser that was set in front of his bedroom window. When she leaped up, sliding a bit on the smooth surface, she scratched at the window overlooking the front yard. Eddie sluggishly pulled himself up and out of bed to see what Sabbath was getting so worked up about.

You were riding your bike in the soft glow of the morning, tires crutching in protest as you slowly pedaled. You kept your eyes and head moving, scanning the area diligently. In one hand you gripped the handle bars, in the other you held a small bag of cat treats that you were shaking every few seconds. Hope lightens your eyes at the sound of Dungeon’s meows, but it dissolves instantly when he’s not the one you’re looking for.

Eddie watched as Sabbath propped herself up on her back legs and began scratching at the single paned glass window like she could dig her way through. When she looked back at Eddie, begging him to understand her pleas, he patted her head softly and moved towards the front door.

By the time Eddie stepped outside you had stopped your bike and were silently sobbing in the middle of the road. Your back was partially turned to him but he could tell by the quivering of your shoulders and the slouch of your neck that you were overwhelmed with emotion.

“Hey Y/N!” Eddie greeted, louder than he intended.

Eddie cringed slightly as you jumped three feet into the air, dropping the open bag of treats in the process. The clowder of strays devours the fallen snacks in seconds before running off into the woods. Not before Ozzy could send Eddie a look that portrayed his disappointment in him for not feeding them earlier in the morning.

“Ah, shit. Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, no it’s alright,” you sniffed hard and vigorously wiped your face before turning to Eddie, playing it off like you weren’t just weeping.

As Eddie got closer he noticed the plastic cat carrier zip tied to the back of your bike and the pile of clothes in the basket attached to your handlebars. You watched him scan your bike, his eyes sparkling with what you misinterpreted for judgment. 

“Sorry, I’m just looking for…for my cat,” you sent him a tightlipped smile and sniffed back your tears. 

“She must be some cat, huh?” Eddie couldn’t stand to leave you hanging for any longer, watching your face crumple as you nodded. He smiled softly, “she wouldn’t happen to be a fluffy black cat, would she?”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide and hopeful. The last remnants of your tears sliding down your cheeks as you blinked owlishly at him. Your mouth was agape in an attempt to respond, but all you could manage was a frantic nod.

Eddie walked backwards slowly and smiled playfully, dimples on full display as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. He swiftly spun around before jogging up his front steps to open his front door. You watched him curiously before you noticed what emerged from his trailer.

“KITTY!” a sob ripped through your throat as you lurched forward, bike clattering to the ground in the process.

“Kitty?” Eddie mumbled to himself incredulously.

He watched as the relief you were feeling had a physical effect on you. Your knees wobbled, feet crossing over each other as you ran forward. It would’ve taken you down had you not been so eager to reach the feline. Whimpers cracked through your chest when you finally met in the middle, ‘Kitty’ being just as excited to get to you. You expertly scooped her up and let her snuggle into your hair as you clung to each other. The way you held one another reminded Eddie of how a caring mother would hold her child.

Watching this reunion was something special. Seeing these two beings who were unconditionally in love, coming together after days apart sent a warmth through Eddie’s heart. He felt a bit selfish for being proud of himself for making this happen, but quickly shook it off. That cat definitely wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for him and you would still be heartbroken.

“I was s-so w-worried about you, Kitty,” you blubbered as you pressed kiss after kiss on her soft little head. Your happy tear-filled eyes blinked up at Eddie, “t-thank you so much, Eddie. You have no idea what this means to me, thank you-” before you could back out you gently held Eddie’s face and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. 

Eddie’s face tingled with heat as a blush crept up his neck. He was just standing there, dumbfounded, not expecting the affection but not hating it either. He moved to touch his burning cheek to savor the feeling, but it made you cringe seeing the moisture you left behind.

“S-sorry,” you said with a wet laugh.

“Don’t apologize. I should be thanking you,” Eddie said, still in a lovesick daze.

“What? You’re the one that saved my cat!”

“Yeah, but you’re the one that kissed me!” Eddie would like to say that his flirting was smooth and intentional, but really he was just flabbergasted that someone as sweet and pretty as you would give him any sort of attention. 

You barked out a surprised laugh as Kitty moved to nuzzle her face into the other side of your neck. You wiped at the tears and snot still caked on your face, suddenly feeling embarrassed by your emotional outburst.

“Sorry,” you apologized again, “I feel kinda stupid for crying so hard over a cat.”

“You keep saying that,” Eddie said with a smile and a soft head shake that made his curly hair float around his shoulders.

You sniffed, “saying what?”

“That your emotions are stupid. Like it’s some offense to be sad and worried about the greatest cat in the world.”

Eddie’s words surprised you. You scanned his face, looking for anything that would suggest he’s teasing or making fun of you. Luckily, it wasn’t there.

“You…you think she’s the great cat in the world?”

“Yeah! What’s not to like? She’s affectionate, entertaining, and really fucking cute. I’d probably lose my mind if I was the one to lose her. I mean, she’s a cat that hugs. What’s better than that?”

You gasped dramatically, turning to look at the cat still in your arms, “you hugged him? What a little traitor! She usually only hugs me,” you giggled.

Eddie was shocked, yet flattered. “She must be a good judge of character,” he said with a smug grin.

“Yeah, that explains why she hates my parents.”

Eddie erupted in laughter, catching you off guard. You didn’t mean to make a joke but it was kind of funny. Your chortles mixing together and echoing throughout the quiet trailer park. 

Your cat pulled back from your neck so she could look back at Eddie and send him a grateful “meow” and a slow blink. Eddie reached out to stroke behind her ears lovingly. It made you tense for a second, scared she’d take a swipe at the metal-head but instead she leaned into his touch.

“You like that, don’t you Sabbath?” he cooed, the pitch to his voice raising an octave.

“You named her Sabbath?”

“Oh, uhh y-yeah,” Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. “Yeah, it was just a placeholder name until I found her owner.”

You nodded slowly as a knowing smile slithered across your lips, “Black Sabbath. Very clever.”

Eddie could have proposed to you right then and there. Instead, he would have to settle for dinner and a movie.

_______________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

main masterlist

[spectrum-spectre]

oh man... I just experienced A Thought™ again

I'm never gonna write this, so if someone else wants to, go right ahead (preferably with credit, please):

Everyone thinks that Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson are alphas, but they're actually hiding their true designations--not because they're scared omegas, but because they're both secretly betas.

They're mimicking! You obviously can't choose what you present as (unless you go through bitching or studding, but this is rural Indiana in the 80's; nobody in that town has ever even heard of these things)--

BUT! Your designation can be partially influenced by your environment! That's why Steve's dad made him join three different sports teams; to encourage his body to develop into that of an alpha. Except, well... Steve doesn't really want that. He hates the culture surrounding alpha males, but he also sees how the world treats omegas of all genders, and he doesn't want to play a part in any of that bullshit. So his body decides to present as something else entirely.

Eddie's story was much the same, but he also went through a different kind of pressure from his family. His parents fought a lot, so he would play the mediator in a desperate attempt to keep them together (and so his dad would target his anger at him instead--just like he does with bullies at school).

Steve sees alphas as assholes, and Eddie sees alphas as abusive, but they both recognize they would be granted a certain level of safety and social standing if everyone thought that they were alphas instead.

That's not even getting into the fact that betas aren't exactly a hot commodity; Steve is terrified that people will find him boring--or worse, undesirable.

They came up with the plan together. Steve was a sophomore, and Tommy had dared him to try buying weed from the weird junior who still hadn't presented *yet. Eddie had just seen his last client for the day, but as soon as Steve approached the picnic table, both their presentations hit at the same time. There's no beta equivalent of a heat/rut, they just... suddenly Know™ that's what their designation is.

It was actually Steve's idea, at first. He remembered reading a book about mimicry in elementary school, and when he mentioned Monarch Butterflies, Eddie came up with the nickname King Steve (it only stuck because other students overheard Eddie refer to him as that while snarkily muttering under his breath). He helped Steve flesh out the details of the plan, and the two came to an agreement: they'd try to prevent targeted harassment from their respective cliques, under the threat of mutually assured destruction.

*in my mind, they go through their initial puberty around ages 11-13, and then their presentation/second puberty hits around ages 14-16. I imagine Steve was freshly 16, with Eddie just a few weeks shy of turning 17, so he was a bit of a late bloomer.

[estrellami-1]

Keep You Company

So this happened because 1) I was babysitting and the little girl wouldn’t sleep until I laid in bed with her and my heart has NEVER been more full and 2) my dad’s an audio engineer with a home studio and my mom will just???? Sit in there with him????? He’s got a couch for when clients come over but 90% of the time if I can’t find either of my parents they’re both in there. I love my mom but I swear she’s tone deaf. Not to mention if any of you have heard someone else work on pitch correction you KNOW how annoying it can get after roughly .3 seconds. But she sits in there completely content because they just???? Want to be near each other????? After close to 30 years of marriage????? Where can I find someone who loves me the way my parents love each other. And the way Steve and Eddie love each other. Please.

Also side note if any of yall read Little Love I’m tempted to make this a future excerpt 👀 different name bc who knows if anything’s gonna come of this. and Joanie’s name comes from Joan Jett anyone who got that gets a gold star ⭐️ also Joanie is either 4 or 6. Idk which. But she’s one of those ages. Which if you know anything about kids you know there’s somehow no difference and yet every difference in the world between those two ages.

“Night, Daddy,” Joanie says, moving into Eddie’s studio to drop a kiss onto his cheek. “Love you.”

Eddie startles away from the computer screen, blinking as he realizes just how late it already is. The clock on his desk blinks 9:08 in red, incriminating flashes.

He smiles at his daughter and throws his arms around her as he stands, hugging her to himself and whirling them around the space, careful around the low coffee table. “Goodnight, my little rockstar!” He crows, peppering kisses to her cheeks and forehead, feeling laughter bubble up inside him in response to Joanie’s giggles.

“Daddy!” She shrieks, but doesn’t try to pull away. He laughs and finally puts her down, pressing one last kiss to the crown of her head as he kneels in front of her.

“Night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Sorry I’ve been stuck in here all day. I wish I could just play with you all day instead.”

He boops her nose and she giggles. “What are you doing?”

Eddie hums and picks her up, moving closer to the computer to save his project. “Well, y’know how Daddy’s in a band?”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Well sometimes, Uncle Gareth gets a note wrong.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Uncle Gareth?”

“Only Uncle Gareth,” Eddie agrees in a super-serious way that they both know he doesn’t mean.

“And sometimes Daddy forgets how not to be a perfectionist,” Steve adds from the doorway with a smile.

“Also very true,” Eddie nods, putting his computer to sleep. “But I did a lot of work today, so hopefully I should be done soon. How about for now, I do bedtime clean-up routine, and Papa can read you your book?”

“M’kay,” Joanie says happily, because she’s a heathen and prefers Steve’s storytelling skills over Eddie’s. Eddie wants to bite her cheeks, she’s so cute, so he does, takes a big chomp and makes a dinosaur noise that has Joanie shrieking and laughing.

“Okay, munchkin,” he says, swinging her around onto his back and trotting through the house, purposely jostling her. “Beddy-bye time, which means it’s time for teeth brushing!”

“Can you sing the song?”

Eddie fights back a groan. Somehow, he’d forgotten this was coming. “Sure thing, Joanie. Let’s get some toothpaste on that brush, alright?”

They do, and Joanie looks at him expectantly. “Sing it, Daddy! Sing it!”

“Brush your teeth, up and down. Brush your teeth, ‘round and ‘round. Brush your teeth from left to right, brush your teeth in the morning and night.”

He goes through the entire song, helpless to the smile that grows as Joanie bops happily along to his singing. “Okay, baby bug,” he says finally, standing behind her with a brush. “How d’you want your hair tonight?”

Regardless of the rat’s nest it will be in the morning, Joanie refuses to sleep if her hair is at all in her face. Steve and Eddie started with simple braids until she discovered the magic of YouTube tutorials, which makes the bedtime routine both longer and less mundane.

“Two Elsa braids,” she says, resolutely not learning the proper name and instead using the one Eddie had jokingly said once.

“Two Elsa braids, coming up,” he says, because it’s cute and he’s not going to dissuade her.

“Can we do beads?”

“Beads are a daytime hairstyle, ‘member, munchkin?”

Joanie pouts at him in the mirror. “But they’re pretty!”

“They are pretty, but they won’t stay while you sleep. They’ll fall out, and then you’ll wake up in the middle of the night ‘cause you’re laying on beads, and you’ll wake us up, and then we’ll all be cranky.” Not that that exact thing had happened.

She narrows her eyes at him, trying to find a way around it, then finally huffs and agrees. “Okay.”

“You’ll look pretty even without the beads,” Eddie promises her. “And Elsa doesn’t have beads, remember?”

“Yeah, but Daddy, Elsa’s got magic powers!”

“That she does.”

Joanie pretends to shoot Eddie with her Elsa powers, and Eddie freezes in the middle of the first braid. “I can’t move,” he says, not moving his lips. “You froze me!”

Joanie giggles. “Unfreeze, Daddy!”

He dramatically relaxes and sighs. “Oh, good! Thank you!”

He finishes doing her hair and chases her into her room, where she picks out her pajamas: a pink shirt with ballet-dancing kittens, and a neon-green pair of leggings. “Bold choice,” Eddie comments. “You wanna do it yourself? Or do you want me to help you?”

“I wanna do it,” Joanie says, just like Eddie knew she would.

A few minutes later, she huffs, frustrated. “Daddy, help,” she asks, just like Eddie knew she would.

He helps rescue her from her shirt that had somehow become sentient long enough to wrap around her head, then gets her pants on and tucks her into bed before pressing a long, loud kiss to her forehead. “Nighty-night, Joanie-bug,” he murmurs. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

Joanie giggles. “Only Joanie-bugs allowed in my bed!” She declares, and Eddie chuckles. “That’s right.”

He moves toward the door where Steve’s waiting to press a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Sorry I was so busy.”

“You were working,” Steve murmurs. “It’s fine. I’ll come join you when I’m done, m’kay?”

“I’m gonna be in the studio for at least another hour tonight, babe,” Eddie says apologetically.

“Then I guess I’ll come keep you company.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before shoving him out the door. “Go work, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“Sir yes sir,” Eddie salutes, marching back to his studio.

The next time he surfaces, it’s to a tugging at his sleeve. He blinks, glances at the clock—10:37—and turns, ready to apologize to Steve, only to see Joanie.

A quick look reveals no Steve anywhere in the studio, so Eddie thinks he’s probably in bed. “Hey, munchkin,” he murmurs, picking her up and setting her in his lap. “We put you to bed an hour ago, what’s going on? Bad dream?”

Joanie shakes her head before resting it on Eddie’s shoulder. “Papa’s snoring.”

Eddie blinks. Steve does snore, but not loud enough she should be able to hear it from her room. “Oh,” he says quietly. “Did he fall asleep before finishing the story?”

Joanie nods against his shoulder, and he sighs as he cuddles her closer, once again saving his project before completely shutting the computer down for the night. “M’kay, Joanie-bug, let’s go get Papa into his own bed.”

“Daddy?” She asks on the way to her room.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why’s Papa so tired?”

Eddie sighs. “He’s a teacher, sweet pea. He does a lot all day. And he loves his job, but it is very tiring. Then he comes home and cooks, ‘cause he’s better at it than I am. And there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be done around the house.”

Joanie’s quiet for a second. “And me?” She finally asks.

Eddie’s heart stutters painfully. “No, baby,” he murmurs. “Your Papa and I love you, so much, okay?”

“Okay,” Joanie agrees, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Daddy.” After a few seconds of thought, she says, “Are there cooking videos on YouTube? Like for hair?”

Eddie blinks. “To learn how to do it? Yeah, I think so.”

Joanie nods. “You should watch those. And cook for Papa.”

Eddie chuckles. “Maybe I will,” he agrees, stopping short in the doorway to smile at the sight in front of him.

The bedside lamp is on and Steve, glasses askew, is halfway on the bed, on top of the covers. The book is open in his lap, hands still holding on to the sides. He is, as Joanie had said, snoring.

Eddie kisses Joanie’s forehead and puts her into bed beside Steve before taking the book from Steve’s lax hands, shutting it and putting it on her bedside table before kissing Steve’s forehead. “Stevie, baby,” he murmurs. “Wake up.”

Steve’s eyebrows scrunch and his eyes flutter beneath his closed lids before he takes an extra-deep breath and his eyes open. “Eds?” He murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve gotta get up,” Eddie murmurs. “This isn’t your bed.”

He watches as Steve processes his words then looks around. He sees the confusion morph into understanding when he sees Joan. “Oh,” Steve murmurs. “Sorry, Joanie.”

“‘S okay, Papa,” Joanie answers. “You should go to bed.”

Steve chuckles tiredly and kisses her forehead. “I am, right now,” he promises. “Night, Joanie.”

“Night, Papa. Night, Daddy!”

“Night, Joanie-bug,” Eddie answers, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist, half as a hug and half to help his husband stay steady.

“Sorry, Eds,” Steve murmurs. “Meant to join you.”

“It’s alright,” Eddie promises. “How about tomorrow I take Joanie out early for breakfast and let you sleep in?”

Steve frowns. “But you have work.”

“I’ve done the majority of it already,” Eddie answers. “You could take her out tomorrow afternoon if you want. Or just have a movie marathon here. I’ll finish up what I have to do. Tomorrow’s Saturday, right? So I’ll finish tomorrow, then Sunday I can make waffles for all of us. How’s that sound?”

Steve hums. “Good, ‘sides the you cooking part of it.”

“Oh, you little shit,” Eddie says delightedly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Just you wait, you’ll understand the power of YouTube tutorials.”

Steve chuckles, quiet, tired, but no less full of love. “I can’t wait.”

Permanent Taglist (which I’ve been COMPLETELY terrible at I’m so sorry I promise I’ll try to do better): @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[acewritesfics]

Preferably Naked | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Request: No

Warnings: Slightly cringy, a little suggestive.

Word Count: 1,273

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Where are you going?” Mumbling is heard behind Y/N as she ties the laces of her rundown pair of white sneakers. She turns her head to glance back at the young man who is moving to sit up, sleepily staring at her. 

She gives him a sweet smile. “I have work, and you have school.” 

“Do I have to go?” He moans and lays back on the mattress. 

“Would you like to graduate this year?” She stands up, spins around, and kneels next to him on the bed. She leans forward to brush her lips against his in a kiss. 

Two years ago, Eddie Munson was supposed to graduate from high school. That same year, Y/N had graduated. This year he’d been most committed to finally graduating. All his hard work and efforts were about to pay off. With just one more class to pass, he will be able to walk across the stage, flip off the principal, and exit the building for good. 

“Do you wish to discover my true desires?” He asks, yanking her down onto him, and gives her another kiss. He was using his dungeons and dragons talk. That was something he found himself doing often when trying to seduce her. Both of them were fantasy nerds, so Y/N has to admit it works for her. “For us both to call in sick and stay in bed the remainder of the day, preferably naked.” He adds taking in the horrible yellow uniform she was wearing. 

Y/N presses her lips to his once more before pulling away. She stands up and begins looking for the van’s keys so she can get something out of it before she leaves for work. “Even though I would really love to do that, the diner is currently short-staffed, and we need the cash if we want to get our own trailer after you graduate. "Where are your keys?” 

She hears him mutter something about the kitchen counter as he moves to get out of bed himself. She spots his keys lying there on the counter, in plain view, as she leaves their shared bedroom and enters the little kitchen area. She snatches them up, goes outside to the van, unlocks the door, and slides it open. She climbs inside the back and searches through one of the boxes that filled up one-third of the back area. 

Y/N and her parents had a heated confrontation a month ago. They disapprove of her relationship with the town “freak.” They also disagreed with her decision to not attend college immediately after she graduated from high school. Her parents expected her to go to medical school and pursue a profession in medicine, just like themselves. Her father is a neurologist and her mother is a paediatrician. Y/N accepted to go along with their plans for her up until her senior year, when everything changed for her. She realised that being a doctor wasn’t what she wanted to become. 

Of course, her parents accused Eddie of influencing her to change her mind. Her parents referred to him as “the man with no future” and believed he had manipulated her with his “fake” love and false promises to keep her where he wanted her. According to Y/N, if it wasn’t for him, his love, encouragement, and support, she would be still stuck in a life she was not happy in. She was able to realise she wasn’t being herself thanks to Eddie. She concealed the fact that she wasn’t just a smart nerd who received A+ grades on the majority of her assignments. She enjoys reading fantasy books, creating dragon and warrior princess stories of her own, along with drawing scenes to go along with the words she’s written. She also enjoys watching sci-fi and horror films and TV shows and listening to heavy metal music with Eddie. Eddie sometimes uses her creative skills for his D&D campaigns. 

Her greatest passion is art. Despite the disapproval of her parents, she continues to draw and paint. Her biggest supporter, her ever-loving boyfriend, constantly inspires and encourages her to pursue her passion for her creative outlet. She feels like she can accomplish anything she sets her mind to when her favourite metal head and Dungeon Master is by her side. She would be content if her future included residing in a trailer park with Eddie and spending her days doing art and writing.  

Eddie’s uncle Wayne didn’t think twice about welcoming her to live with them after her parents kicked her out of their home. Eddie is overjoyed at how well his girl and his only parental figure get along. Wayne acknowledges how valuable Y/N is to his nephew and was happy for and supportive of the young couple. Unfortunately, the trailer lacked the space to put everything she was allowed to bring from her parents’ house, so the less essential items remained in Eddie’s van until they found a place of their own. 

When she manages to find what she was looking for, she exits the van and waves to Max, the teenage girl who lives across from them. With a forced smile on her face, the young teen waves back. Y/N felt bad for the girl. She was aware that the previous year wasn’t easy for her. She made a mental note that she needed to visit Max later. 

She enters the trailer again and finds Eddie dressed and cooking breakfast. She sets her belongings down before approaching him and encircling his waist with her arms from behind him. “Can you take me to work today?” She asks him. 

“Of course.” He turns around in her arms, her hands moving over his hips. “Would you like me to pick you up as well?” 

“You have the Hellfire Club tonight. "I’ll get a ride home with Sally,” she replied, mentioning her favourite coworker, who lives close to the trailer park. 

He nods his head, letting her know he heard what she said, and he drops a kiss on her nose before kissing her lips. “I love you, my queen.” 

Returning the kiss with a grin, she responds, “I love you too, my king.” 

As their kiss intensifies, Eddie pulls her closer to him and digs his fingers into her hips, holding her tightly but not enough to hurt her. As he moves them back up against the wall and scoops her up, wrapping her legs around his hips, she grabs hold of his shirt, clinging tightly to him. The smell of burning food reaches her nose, interrupting their passionate make-out session before it could go any further. She pulls her face away from his, only for him to move his kisses to her neck. She struggles to contain a pleasure-filled moan. 

When she notices smoke pouring from the pan on the stovetop, she sighs, “Eddie.” She grabs his hair and gently pulls his head back when he doesn’t stop, causing him to look at her in bewilderment. “As much as I would love to continue this, the food is burning,” she alerts him. 

“Shit!” He curses while he gently releases her, before he rushes to the stove, takes the pan from the burner, and dumps it into the sink. He turns on the cold water faucet, causing the water to sizzle when it reaches the sizzling hot pan. 

“How about we leave in five and grab breakfast at the diner?” Y/N suggests from her spot, leaning against the wall. 

“Let me get my lunchbox and jacket, and then we can go.” He gives her one last kiss as he moves past her and back into their room to grab his things. 

[ladykailitha]

Well By Moonlight Part 15

Sorry for this being so late, I thought I set it up last night but hasn't been kind to me the last couple of days with the move.

This week we get all our old favorites back as I work through my backlog. The final chapter of Sweet Surrender will be out on Saturday.

This is another Nancy centric chapter as she tries to track down the wisp of her memories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

~

Nancy’s first stop was the library. Because as much as Steve’s comments galled her, she knew in his goofy, big-hearted way was right. She needed to find out about what happened fifteen years ago. Maybe even further than that. But fifteen years was a good place to start.

She drove into town. As strange as that was to think of, most of the pack had cars of some sort. Steve just preferred to travel in wolf form when he could and now she knew why.

She had met a couple of conspiracy nut jobs in her time as a reporter for their school newspaper, but there was something about this that felt bigger than it looked on the outside.

Nancy walked into the library and flashed her pack ID to the librarian. She was going to a specific part of the library, one only available to Domini, alphas, and Wayne Munson. The records of supernatural entities.

She strolled to a secure door that librarian unlocked from a button under her desk, and waited until the door swung open. It revealed a dark and winding stairway that with her enhanced vision she was able to traverse without issue.

She reached the bottom of the stair and smiled at the sight before her. Perched on a table like a gargoyle was Eddie, who was watching his uncle read. She cleared her throat.

Both men looked up at her in surprise.

“Nancy!” Eddie cried. “What brings you to the coolest place in the library?”

She raised her eyebrow at Wayne. “Is he supposed to be here?”

“Family. It’s allowed,” he smiled.

She neared the table to peer over Wayne’s shoulder. “What are you guys looking up?”

Eddie and Wayne shared a look.

“Steve told me everything,” Nancy said primly. “About Tommy, the attack on Patrick. His past. His fears about where all this is coming from.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked at her a moment. “Wayne and I are trying to find which supe is scentless or as near to as a supe can get. Why are you here?”

Nancy thought about it for a moment and had to concede that if Steve trusted them, she had no reason to not to as well.

“I’m looking into the circumstances of Steve’s fostering and the events leading up to that,” she said, coming over to sit down across from Wayne. “There is something that I only vaguely remember about that time that sticks in my mind and I’m hoping that by going through the records I can find something that sparks that memory.”

Wayne scratched his chin. “I’m working on the angle that whatever it was that attacked Patrick was the same one that killed Steve’s parents.”

Nancy blinked at him a moment and then pulled the book over to her so she could see what they were looking at more clearly.

“I could smell it,” she murmured. “So it’s something that werewolves can scent, but harder for vampires to do the same.”

She turned the book around as Eddie and Wayne shared a glance. She went flipping through the pages.

“There are a few supernatural beings that it could be,” she continued. “We tend to forget about the ones that don’t transform in someway. We think of werewolves, sirens, gwyllgi, selkie and the like. Even vampires have a higher form that they transform into. But there are creatures like the cat sìth and djinn that don’t transform. What you see is what you get.”

“You’re thinking that whatever this beastie is, is a cryptid?” Wayne asked, watching her flip the through the pages faster than his slow, methodic research.

Nancy spun the book around. On the page there were three such creatures. The sphinx, the chimera, and the manticore.

“My bet is on one of these,” she said curtly, standing up. “Now that you know what you’re looking for, if you’ll excuse me, I have my own research to do.”

Eddie and Wayne just exchanged eye rolls before Eddie got up and pulled out books on the beasts, splitting the pile in half and handing a stack to Wayne.

Nancy pulled out this huge portfolio and it landed on the table with a horrid thud, sending up a cloud of dust.

Eddie waved the air in front of his face, not that it would make him cough or irritate his eyes since becoming a vampire, but it was annoyance nonetheless.

“Don’t they have those things on microfiche?” he asked with a glare. They were there first and she was acting like they were bothering her.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I want to see the originals.”

It took everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes back at her and just buried his head into the research he was doing. He began jotting down things about the chimera that might fit the beast they were looking for.

Wayne had only gotten through two chapters of the sphinx when he shook his head.

“Not a sphinx,” he said gruffly. “They have far too many rules to want to ally with at cat sìth for anything short of an all out war between the fae.”

Eddie nodded, he had ruled them out based on DND rules, but didn’t want to say anything in front of Miss Snooty. He handed Wayne all the books he had on the manticore, his mind on the task in front of him.

Tat, tat, tat...

His pen flicked back and forth in his fingers as read about chimeras. There were different kinds but always a serpent tail, a feline body, and a capra head. The freaky thing breathed honest to god fire.

He thought about the beast that attacked Patrick, the one that Steve had apparently fought off by himself.

Neither of the two men had any indication that they had burn marks on them. Granted it was harder to tell with Steve. The transformation healed most wounds, going either direction. From wolf to human and vice versa.

Tat, tat, tat...

He looked up to see an exchange between Nancy and Wayne. She looked murderous, but Wayne’s steely glare kept her mouth shut. His glance darted back and forth between the two of them in confusion.

“His tapping is driving me crazy,” she finally hissed.

Wayne licked his lips nice and slow and leveled her with a look that could have curdled three generations cows’ of milk.

“And we were here first,” he said coldly. “You are here on a hunch. And probably a damn good one, but if we don’t find out what is stalking the streets of Hawkins, one of the pups could be next, so you will show him the respect you would give me.”

Her jaw that had been hanging open slammed shut.

Eddie snorted and tapped again just to annoy her. Nancy glared at him.

“She doesn’t respect you is the problem, Uncle Wayne. It’s why she wouldn’t let you watch their moon night. Something that if had been allowed wouldn’t have resulted in a brand new werewolf, the ire of the coven, and rampaging beast on the loose, because you would have been there to help Steve take it out.”

Wayne’s glare turned to ice. “Is that so?”

Nancy gulped. Hard. For all Wayne Munson’s down to earth looks and speech she had forgotten that he was a centuries old being with more experience in his left pinkie than she did in all her days on this earth.

She knew she didn’t have a real leg to stand on when she threatened Steve about either of these two vampires watching over her pack, but knew that he would go along with her because he didn’t understand pack pecking order.

But she held her chin high. “I have no reason to trust any vampire, but especially not a Bitten.”

“Do you know what happens when a vampire is turned?” Wayne asked her darkly.

“I know the technical aspects of it,” she replied haughtily. “But as I am not a vampire, I can only speak metaphorically.”

Again Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re not bitten anything. You’ve got werewolf blood in you going back generations on both sides. Your privilege is showing, princess.”

“It’s not like werewolf biting either,” Wayne said ignoring them both. “Steve asked Patrick permission to bite him. It didn’t always used to be that way, but it’s so ingrained in werewolf society that they aren’t aware that they can turn a person into a wolf, provided that person is an alpha. But it’s a soft process. A healing one.”

Nancy frowned, chewing on her lip. “And vampire turning isn’t? I thought Steve asked Billy why he didn’t heal Patrick.”

Wayne nodded. “Because vampire turning requires blood to be exchanged. To just heal Patrick all it would have taken is for Billy to drink his blood. The venom in their saliva has healing properties so that their victims don’t go tattling to everyone and anyone they’d been bit.”

“So even if Billy had merely tried to heal Patrick and get his allegiance in exchange for his life, he still would have sprang the trap set for him?” she asked.

Eddie nodded. “Whoever is pulling the strings on this whole thing knows a lot about vampires, just not enough about Billy.”

Wayne hummed his agreement. “This person is wily and cunning, but their plans keep getting foiled by Steve, so unless you want your alpha dead, you’ll let us work in peace.”

Nancy looked down at the folio in front of her a moment before speaking. “What’s so different about a vampire turning over a werewolf one?”

Wayne turned to Eddie. “You’ve gone through it more recently than I have. You can tell her if you want, but I won’t make you.”

Eddie set his jaw. “It’s like a fire consuming you. Burning out your very blood, your very breath. It literally kills you. That’s why born vampires look down on us, because we’re not living. We will never live again. But unlike Wayne, I chose this willingly. Not because I was going to die anyway. Which is how it usually goes. They turn you and then turn you loose.”

She blanched and her eyes went wide. “Why would they do that?”

“Because, Miss Wheeler,” Wayne said fiercely, “because they got too careless and needed to make a quick getaway. Turn a person into a vampire, send the poor crazed bastard out on the populous, and watch the destruction from afar.”

“‘Cause, if the town’s folk are chasing a rampaging beast,” Eddie sneered, “then they won’t look too closely at the lord who left in the middle of the night.”

Nancy could barely breathe. “That’s awful. Why would anyone willing chose to go through all that pain and torment?”

“Because I would rather die,” Eddie said solemnly, “and going through the agonies of undeath than lose the one person in my life who gave a damn for longer than my use to them.”

She looked between them both and then nodded. She went back to her work without further comment or complaint.

Eddie waited a few more moments to make sure she wasn’t going to say anything else. Then he turned to Wayne. “It’s not a chimera, either. It’s got to be a manticore.”

Wayne looked down at his pile of books, his expression ashen.

“May god save us all.”

~

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

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7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts

[lovemesomeeddiemunson]

The Proposal - Part 3

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Modern Au, Part 3 of 7. 5166 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack. Minor spoilers for Flight of Icarus.

Authors Note:  It should be noted that this is a fully completed fic, I've just broken it up for ease of posting. I can AND WILL be motivated to post faster, if readers find themselves engaged lol 😂

They had reached some semblance of normalcy by the time they landed. Slipping into their roles.

Wayne is waiting for them when they get off the plane, smiling huge when he and Eddie spot each other in the crowd, the latter immediately bolting for his uncle, leaving a bewildered Steve a few paces behind.

“Uncle Wayne,” he says happily as the old man receives him in a tight hug, and damn. It’s been too long.

“Hey Ed,” he greets with a chuckle, pulling back to get a good look at him. Clicking his tongue. “Don’t they have food in New York? You’re all skin and bones.”

Eddie laughs. “I’m eating good Wayne, promise.”

Wayne gives a shake of his head. “We’ll get you a Big Mac or something on the way.”

Steve, who's gotten close enough to hear now, is baffled by what he hears. In the Harrington home, Steve was often critiqued for how much he ate. Even in peak sports season - food was a means for fuel only, and carefully regulated.

Steve carried the guilt of it around with him even now - years later, and while he indulges himself in his morning lattes, he never let it go so far as to eat fast food.

But here Wayne offered it up to Eddie unthinkingly, the offer laced with kindness.

Steve finds it hard to wrap his head around.

Noticing him standing there in silence, Wayne glances his way, and Eddie whirls around then too. “Oh!” He blurts.

“Steve, honey, this is my uncle Wayne.” Eddie introduces.

Steve sticks a hand out to shake automatically, his smile plastered on as he tells him, “Pleasure.”

Wayne smiles back. “Well hello there…Now do you prefer to be called Steve or uh, Harbinger of Souls? I’ve heard it both ways…Actually I’ve heard it a lot of ways.”

Steve’s eyes widen as Eddie elbows his uncle, no malice to it. “Hey, come on now.” He complains.

Even despite this, the older man’s smile doesn’t falter, and he laughs good-naturedly. “I’m kidding. Mostly. It’s good to have you, Steve. I was surprised when Eddie said you’d be coming along.”

“Right, uh. I’m sure…Thank you for allowing me to be part of your birthday this weekend.” Steve manages.

Wayne waves his niceties off, wrapping his arms around his boy once again and ushering him along as they head to baggage claim.

Once there, Eddie rescues Steve’s things and piles them up neatly, muttering on the last bag for only him to hear, “You’re gonna wanna use your legs to lift that one,” Before turning and slapping his hands together.

“Where did you park?” He asks his uncle as he abandons Steve to his luggage.

Wayne looks miffed at seeing it, “Eddie! Help him with those!” He huffs, having thought he’d brought up a respectable gentleman.

Eddie pouts. “I’d love to, but he won’t let me do anything, uncle Wayne. He insists on doing it all by himself…So big and strong.” He sighs.

Wayne looks at Steve, unconvinced. Steve fakes a smile at him and gets his bags in hand.

Eddie chooses then to launch into a rapid-fire round of catching up with his uncle, telling him “Gareth and Jeff send their love, and presents, by the way.”

Wayne looks fond, “Ah, how are they? I ran into Gareth’s mom at Melvald’s the other day - she says since he left he never calls. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I know how well he’s doing since my kid keeps in touch.” He chuckled softly, the two of them talking more while the three of them head out.

Once they reach Wayne’s truck, Steve piles his things into the truck bed as Wayne offers for Eddie to get behind the wheel.

He takes him up on it, Wayne riding shotgun and Steve sitting in the back seat of the cab, melding silently into the seats. Answering when spoken to, in a friendlier manner than Eddie expected.

So far so good.

They do hit a fast food place on the way, and when it becomes apparent that Steve is completely out of his element, Wayne insists on getting a bunch of different stuff for him to try. Refusing to let Steve pay.

The three men sit in a booth with cracked red leather, Steve sipping a milkshake and downing so many fries that he’s sure he’ll die, but Eddie is feeding them to him, being all cute and domestic and Steve would rather perish than give Eddie a reason to stop.

Finally, Wayne clears his throat to interrupt the pair of them. “So uh, I was thinking…and uh, you boys don’t have to indulge an old man in his wishes, but-” And his voice is soft and humble, and Steve’s heart goes out to him.

“What is it?” He asks, at near the same time Eddie questions, “What is it, uncle Wayne?”

Wayne scratches his head. “Well now, I know you’re only in town for the weekend, but I was just thinking…that nice hotel you booked is a bit of a ways outside of Hawkins…and I see so little of you as it is…Well, I was wondering if you two wouldn’t mind staying in your old room. So we can spend the extra time together.”

Wayne gives Steve a look - like a kicked puppy, all sweet and innocent and Steve is helpless to turn him down. He looks to Eddie and finds that the other man is already looking at him - with a very similar kicked puppy look that makes his heart thud traitorously.

Not wanting to dwell on that, he dwells instead on a decision that was presented to him.

Considering that being in Wayne’s home means being under his scrutiny, he knows that the pair of them will have to be continually convincing. Something that Eddie doesn’t seem put off by, and so he chooses not to be either.

“Well, I don’t see why not.” Steve says finally before Eddie’s wobbly lip really does finish him off.

At his words Eddie whoops, and the sound, particularly when paired with Wayne’s crinkly-eyed smile, fuels a wildly unfamiliar fuzzy feeling in Steve’s gut. Something homey.

He could get used to it.

Later, Wayne uses the bathroom and Steve and Eddie toss their trash, meandering back to the truck as Eddie sighs. “I feel like I should warn you before we get home.”

Uh oh. “Yeah?” Steve asks him.

Eddie purses his lips. “When uncle Wayne said we would stay in my bedroom…it’s the only bedroom. We live in a single bedroom trailer. In a trailer park.”

Steve stares at Eddie - confused, baffled even, but not for the reason Eddie might think. “And…you’re telling me this…why?”

“I don’t want you to react poorly when we get there.” Eddie snaps back. And Steve feels that earlier feeling in his gut - the warmth - shrivel up and die. He clenches his jaw, back ramrod straight.

“I won’t.” He says quietly. Yanking the door to the back of the truck open and sliding in, shutting it aggressively behind him but not quite slamming it.

Eddie gets into the passenger seat and fiddles with his metal chain, Wayne hopping in the truck shortly after, oblivious to the mood between the two men as they get back on the road.

They arrive at the trailer park in the early afternoon, and Eddie’s spirits are lifted to see that everything is exactly the same, down to the ratty old couch he and Wayne used to share cigarettes on.

Steve, for his part, doesn’t bat an eye. Once they’re parked in the driveway he announces “I’ll get the bags,” going to grab them and taking too many in hand, his muscles flexing under his dress shirt that’s now got a dollop of ketchup on it.

Eddie isn’t too proud to admit how fucking sexy it is.

As Steve moves, Wayne heads around to the back of the trailer with a quick comment about watering his plants, but Eddie knows he’s really giving them both a moment alone to settle in.

Once they have, their things - or rather, mostly Steve’s things - piled into his room, they take it all in.

Even with all they brought, there’s space to spare, the room still mostly bare but for the bed. All cleaned out as Eddie had left it years ago, his posters lingering that Wayne must have kept up. Clearly never having resumed ownership of the room, something that stirs Eddie’s heart a bit.

Running from the thought of anyone loving him enough to save a place for him, Eddie clears his throat, taking advantage of the fact that they’re alone for now. Tells Steve, “I owe you an apology.”

Steve looks surprised. “What for?”

“When I assumed - about the trailer, it’s just…” he starts.

“Oh. That.” Steve waves a hand, dismissing Eddie as he often does. “You don’t have to apologize, I get it.”

Eddie’s eyebrow raises. “You do?”

Steve nods, “Yeah. I can be pretty…”

“Pretentious? Snobby?” Eddie volunteers.

“Particular.” Steve glares.

Eddie winces. “Right.”

“All in all, I can see why you said what you said. And now that the heat of the moment has passed, I’m not upset.” He swears.

“You’re not?” Eddie confirms.

Steve nods again, hums softly. “The trailer is fine. Really. And I mean, I’m not thrilled about the cancellation fee for the hotel-” he quips, but Eddie shakes his head in answer.

“Don’t worry about that. I canceled in plenty of time.” He promises.

Steve is confused at that, “You- but you only knew we would be staying with your uncle today.”

Eddie just smiled sheepishly, and understanding washed over Steve. “No you didn’t.” He says.

Eddie shrugs. “No, I didn’t.”

“How long-“ Steve starts.

“Wayne asked me about it before we left. But I knew you’d be all whiny about it if I asked you, so, I asked him to whip out some of the old ‘Munson-charm.’” Eddie chuckles. “I knew even you couldn’t say no to him. He’s like, stupidly endearing. Old bastard.”

Eddie sounds so fond, Steve can’t even find it in him to be mad. Or to correct him on how it was his puppy dog eyes that he’d found stupidly endearing. Even so. “That’s a rotten trick.”

Eddie gave a mocking curtsy. “I know that you are used to finer comforts, my lord, but I pray that my humble abode might please thee, until we might return to your luxurious castle.”

Steve is unamused, glancing around with a neutral expression. Changing the subject. “How long has it been…since you’ve been home?” He asks.

“Too long.” Eddie sighs.

He’s taking that in. Examining his surroundings. Eddie tries to soothe his worry, tells himself that this is fine, definitely not comparing himself to a bug beneath a magnifying glass, no sir…

Steve moves closer to the wall then, taking in the handmade Corroded Coffin banner proudly displayed. “This is your band. The one from the demo. You’ve been together this long?”

“Since high school. In some form or another.” He kicks his shoes off then, getting comfortable, slides them into the closet where a few hangers linger, and his old acoustic.

“Oh!” He pulls it out, the body adorned with ‘This Machine Slays Dragons’ in a crooked scrawl. “Forgot about this.”

He sits on the bed with it, tuning it to give himself something to do with his hands as his boss turns and leans against the wall of the bedroom he occupied in adolescence, arms crossed, scrutinizing him.

“This is good.” Eddie rambles at his piercing gaze, taking his guitar pick off his necklace to use. “That’s something you should know. You should ask me more stuff like that.”

When Eddie plays a chord, the sound that emerges is pure and clear and perfectly in tune. Walking his fingers up the fretboard, he picks out a bare-bones acoustic take on the intro to "Number of the Beast."

Steve stares at his hands. “Okay. So, why music?"

It's such an oblique question that Eddie has to give up on Iron Maiden for a full 30 seconds as he tries to figure out what he means. "Everyone likes music."

"Not everyone likes it the way you do." He cocks his head thoughtfully. "But I’ll rephrase. Why this music?"

Eddie laughs a little, strums some more. "Because it's badass,"

"Sure.” Steve dismisses, once the sound has died away. "But that's not the only reason, right?"

Eddie glances up at him, inquisitive.

He huffs a sigh. "Help me out here, Eddie. If I'm gonna sell this package, I need you to give me something to work with. Something real."

Ah. Leave it to Steve to be all business. Even now.

Fine.

Eddie could give him real. So he thinks…Why music? Why this music? He flips his pick around in his fingers as he tries to put his thoughts in some kind of order.

He'd never thought hard about it before Steve asked him. For 26 years of his life, music has just kind of... been. Like eating, breathing, taking a piss...music. Listening to it, playing it, talking about it. Grinding away for a chance to get it out there someday…It's a fact of life. But why?

"My mom." He murmurs. He’s not actually sure he means to say it. It just kind of comes out. He presses on anyway. "My dad was the one who taught me how to play guitar, but my mom, uh." He clears his throat. "She was living in Memphis when she met my dad. She'd grown up there, 19 years surrounded by music, everywhere she went. Country, bluegrass, rock...but her favorite was blues. Like, Chicago blues, the hard kind that gets into your bones, you know?"

Steve had relaxed a bit as he answered. "Yeah."

"So - when she left, when she moved up to Indiana, she took the music with her. It's like a nine-hour drive from Memphis to Hawkins, and she and my dad spent all of that time squeezed into a tiny car with 20 boxes of records. And then when I was born, she started sharing those records with me."

He’s still plucking out a tune, but it's not Iron Maiden anymore. It's a Muddy Waters riff, and as it fills the small space, Eddie can hear the static from his Mom's record player buzzing underneath, as familiar and comfortable as an old sweater.

His voice turns bitter as he recalls not having those records to listen to anymore. “She called them her plane tickets. Even when she was stuck in Hawkins," Waiting on her husband to come home from some dumbass scheme, Eddie thinks. "That music told stories. It helped her see the world."

He looks at the roof, water stained, and much safer than the man here with him.

"I didn't get it when I was a kid," he goes on. "All I heard on those records were people singing about sadness, about how shitty life was. And then, uh. She got sick and died. When I was like 6. I got it then."

Eddie pauses. Typically there's a chorus of sympathetic crooning following that reveal, one that sets his teeth on edge. But Steve is still and silent, watching him. Listening.

So Eddie gives him something to listen to. The guitar line for Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" trips off his fingers, half blues and half metal, and it might be his imagination, but Eddie thinks he can see the ghost of approval, of a smile, on the corners of Steve’s mouth.

"I like this music because it's about sadness and how shitty life is. And things are sad, life is shitty. It's real. But also, it tells stories. This music takes you on an adventure, to another world where you're, like, facing down demons. Traveling into the depths of hell. My mom's music was plane tickets. I guess that makes my music a portal to another dimension."

"You like it because it's badass," Steve fills in the blanks.

"I like it because it's really fucking badass." He finishes the riff and lets his hand fall away. "Is that real enough for you?"

Steve isn’t smiling, not really, but there’s a glow in his eyes, radiance that has nothing to do with the light. He says, “I think I can work with that.”

Wayne opens the front door more loudly than he needs to then, and a few beats later he’s standing in the doorway to Eddie’s old room, his expression soft.

“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes.” He says, seeing Eddie, in his room, with his guitar.

Eddie plays him an exaggerated song with full body movement, that Steve quickly makes out to be ‘Hot Cross Buns.’

Wayne laughs. “Feel free to get settled in kids, the party’s not for a few hours.”

Eddie and Steve offer him passable enthusiasm, and then Wayne is retreating to the living room. Eddie sets the guitar to the side. “You can hang in here if you want, we’ll probably just kick it on the couch. Watch some TV or something. I can tell him your jet lagged.”

“From a less than 3 hour flight?” Steve snorts. “No, but, thank you.” It sounds genuine.

Steve strides out of the room, beating Eddie to the couch, and taking a seat on it. At seeing where he’d chosen to sit, Eddie groans and Wayne winces.

Steve blinks in surprise. “What’d I do?” He asks.

Wayne’s expression becomes playful, “That there’s Ed’s seat.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, looking at Eddie with an almost smile, but not quite. Just enough to take the bite out of his words when he tells him, “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s optimal seating, Stevie.” Eddie whines. At his graveness, Steve moves to adjust himself, really wiggling into the cushion. “Huh. Now that you mention it, I see what you mean. Great choice on my part, really.”

Eddie gawks at him, spluttering. “You’re - you’re still sitting there?”

“So I am.” Steve is cocky. So cocky. Eddie loves to hate it.

“You’re not moving.” Eddie clarifies. Wayne is looking between the two of them with amusement.

A shake of Steve’s head. Eddie gives a faux gasp. “Not even for the love of your life?” He squawks.

Steve just raises an eyebrow, looking around. “Is the love of my life in the room with us?”

“Sacrilege!” Eddie shouts, before launching himself onto the couch beside Steve, gracelessly trying to manhandle the younger man out of his seat.

Steve is stronger than he looks though, and within minutes what should have ended with Eddie depositing him on the floor, makes way instead for Steve to maintain his ground, his powerful thighs locked around Eddie’s waist, keeping him from getting Steve off of the couch without taking himself out too.

Wayne is laughing nearly hysterically at watching them both wrestle, Steve spitting Eddie’s hair out of his mouth while Eddie wishes a plague on Steve and all his houses, tickling his sides, Steve fucking licking his neck to get him to stop.

And even then, it’s only when both men are on the floor, pushing and shoving to reclaim the lost territory, that Eddie knows he’s beaten.

Steve, powerhouse that he is, is fucking laughing. Actually truly laughing.

And damn it if Eddie doesn’t fall flat on his face, catching his breath yes but also - just fucking taking that fact in for a second.

“Victory!” Steve shouts as he sits once again in Eddie’s seat.

Eddie pops up, resting his head on his elbows, nearly panting like a dog. “You have bested me. I concede.”

Steve laughs again, face flushed and his once perfect hair all in disarray, and Eddie wonders if this is what he looks like after - Okay, nope. Nope. Between the wrestling and the neck licking - Eddie needs to think of gross, unsexy things, immediately. Lest he become visibly riled up in front of his surrogate father and his fake fiancé.

In that spirit, Eddie claims another part of the couch, groaning and oh yeah he’s in terrible shape.

Wayne chortles and flips through channels on the TV now that the commotion has died down, settling on an NBA game when Steve’s interest is piqued. “Oh, basketball, nice.”

“You’ like sports?” Wayne is surprised. Eddie is decidedly…not a sports guy.

Steve has the decency to look bashful. “I’m not like a super-fan or anything. We moved to the States when I was in high school and I got recruited for the basketball team. Coach would play us tapes. I only know the teams I like.”

“Who’s your favorite?” Wayne asks him.

“Probably the Knicks.” Steve answers.

“Get out of my house.” Wayne is not at all serious.

Steve laughs again. “Is that the wrong answer?”

“This here, is a Pacer’s family, kid. Ed, what are you doing? You dating your boss who’s run you ragged the last few years I can excuse - but I can’t tolerate a man who likes the Knicks.” He holds his hand to his heart.

Steve is starting to see where Eddie gets his…dramatic flair. He can’t wipe the smile from his face.

Eddie sighs, just as playful. “Well it’s a bit too late to kick him to the curb now, uncle Wayne.”

At that Steve glances at Eddie. Tries to communicate with his eyes. Is he going to…?

“Why?” Wayne chuckles. “You get’ him pregnant?”

Steve flushes. Eddie laughs. “Nah, nothing like that. But uh…we are getting married.”

Wayne freezes. Steve doesn’t miss it - for a solid few seconds the man has gone stiff, unmoving. Not even a dropped jaw or raised eyebrow. Totally and completely offline.

Steve can’t breathe. He vaguely feels Eddie take his hand. Squeeze. He inhales.

And then…Wayne smiles. Nice and slow, and fucking big. His eyes are twinkling. “Really?” He asks.

Eddie nods. “Really.”

Wayne jumps to his feet, smacking his knee. “Hah!” He’s absolutely fucking giddy. “Well how about that! We have double reasons to celebrate tonight it seems! My boy’s getting married!”

He wraps them both in a hug, and Steve is still fucking, just - paralyzed. No longer in fear, but something entirely different. Something that wants to creep up from behind his eyelids, wrapping its way around his throat.

Wayne pulls back from them, and he sniffles. Wayne clocks it immediately, “You alright there, son?”

Son.

“My uh,” he wheezes out. “My parents, they never…they wouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” He tilts his head back, unblinking and pinching his thigh, until he gets himself under control.

Then he smiles at Wayne with watery eyes, having missed the look the older man had given his nephew. “Sorry.” Steve laughs shakily.

Wayne hugs him again. “Don’t you worry about it, Steve. We aren’t worried about displays of emotion in this house. You should have heard Ed wailing when they freed Willy.”

A laugh bursts out of Steve, and Eddie gives Wayne a look of complete and utter betrayal, whining. “Wayne…”

To which his uncle merely offers him a shit-eating grin, Steve halfheartedly defending, “That scene got me as a kid too.”

“He was 19.” Wayne clarifies.

“Wayne!” Eddie is full on shouting now. “Oh my god stop talking or I swear when you get old I’m putting you in a home!”

Offended, Wayne barks back. “My new son-in-law Steve would never let that happen!” Shaking his head, he mutters in Steve’s general direction. “Unbelievable. Threatening to commit me, and on my birthday no less. Where is the respect?”

Eddie groans, but he apologizes, he and Wayne bickering quite happily, all while Steve’s gut feeling grows into an even more confusing tangle.

Thinking to himself that it was certainly going to be an interesting weekend here in Indiana.

That night as the trio arrives at a VFW that had been rented out by some of the gentlemen at the plant Wayne works for, Steve is mildly surprised to see the parking lot packed with cars.

Eddie glances at Steve’s expression with a little chuckle. “Small town.” He explains. “Everyone knows everyone.”

Add to that the fact that his uncle was also very well loved, and it makes for quite an uproarious slew of greetings when the three of them enter, the fake couple quickly losing Wayne to a swarm of hugs and well wishes.

By the time he’s passed back around, he’s got lipstick marks on both cheeks, in varying shades, and Eddie laughs and shoves at him playfully. “You dog!”

He rolls his eyes, “Come with me boys, there’s some people who want to say hi.”

Wayne leads them over to a table where Steve witnesses a gaggle of no less than half a dozen teenagers gathered. Most of them make no effort to hide how they lose their collective minds when they see Eddie.

The tallest of them, a teen with long black hair, is the most aggressive in his attempts to get to him, nearly elbowing a curly haired kid with a row of endearingly imperfect teeth, who complains extra hard at that because of something that he calls his cleidocranial dysplasia.

Whatever that means, it gains him the lead of the queue, the others groaning at his words and holding their hands up, letting him pass.

Behind them, a wide eyed girl looks on in amusement while her two companions - a redhead toying with a skateboard that probably shouldn’t be on the table, and another girl wearing an American flag like a cape, appear uninterested.

Eddie hugs the curly haired kid enthusiastically, greeting, “Henderson! You haven’t changed man.”

He scoffs. “Of course I haven’t, you specifically, asked me not to.” Eddie laughs at whatever that calls to mind, patting him on the back, and Steve decides that he likes this kid.

Eddie takes a half a step back then, and the kid squawks at Eddie’s shirt as he ignores it in favor of beckoning Steve closer. “Children, gather.” Never mind that they’re already encroaching on the men’s space as it is.

Eddie addresses Steve, “Allow me to introduce you to my…flock of little lost sheep.” He snickers, pointing as he introduces them. “This is Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas - the one who looks innocent but could probably crush your head through sheer force of will is Will’s twin sister Jane - that’s Max next to her, and then there’s my undisputed favorite, Lucas’s sister, Erica.”

The kids all groan at his declaration, all apart from Erica who smirks in a familiar, bitchy way at them. And Steve likes her too. A fine choice in favorite, he thinks.

“Kids, this is Steve.” Eddie introduces.

“Steve.” Max repeats his name with a raised eyebrow, looking him up and down.

“Steve.” Eddie parrots as he nods, while Wayne adds proudly from behind them, “Eddie’s fiancé.”

The kids all stifle in shock - Mike blurting, “Wait. Evil-boss-Steve? Evil-boss-Steve is his fiancé?”

Steve wants to groan. His reputation precedes him.

“Hah!” Dustin, who is also the ‘Henderson’ kid, laughs. “Boom!” The exclamation echoes as he points at his friends. “Bada…bada…boom. I told you he had a crush on him. You guys totally owe me $20.”

“No one made that bet with you, man.” Lucas rolls his eyes.

“I’m happy for you, Eddie,” Jane smiles before looking hopefully at Steve. “Does this make you our new mom?”

Steve has to laugh, bewildered and also pleased to see Eddie flustered by not only Henderson selling him out - but by the question as well.

“Oh he’s such a mom.” Erica supplies. “Look at him. He has the hips for it.”

Steve’s laughter becomes a knowing smirk. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Erica.”

She smiles - more of a show of teeth than anything. And Eddie has to skip over that interaction while the kids hit him with a million questions a minute. He waves them off. “Another time, kids. I’d much rather hear what you all have been up to.”

That starts another round of talking over each other, and Wayne gently grabs Steve by his elbow in order to lead him away from the commotion.

“Best give them a minute.” He chuckles. Steve tries to decide if he can ask - if he should know-

“Ed didn't mention his old club, huh?” Wayne asks him. He doesn’t sound surprised. Steve is mildly relieved, shaking his head.

Wayne sounds fond, “Yeah, used to run it in high school. They’d spend hours wrapped up in that tabletop roleplaying game - Dungeons and Dragons? Ed was the leader. The kids were devastated when he finally graduated and moved away. He left Dustin in charge, but it's not the same, you know? They missed him.”

Steve glances back - sees them animatedly talking and laughing with Eddie, and his heart. Oh his poor heart.

He would never admit it but…He’d always wanted six kids. Six little nuggets and a Winnebago to house them all and drive across the country, all crammed together, making memories…And here Eddie had fucking…seven children, who clearly adored him, calling Steve mom. It messed him up a little bit.

“Bob! Joyce!” Wayne calls, snapping him out of it. “Meet Steve, he’s Eddie’s fiancé.” Steve kinda likes how Wayne keeps saying it - proud, but factual. Like ‘he’s Eddie’s fiancé’ is his last name now.

He embraces it - out to charm the room. Working his way through it with Wayne, the whole place positively buzzed at the engagement news.

Besides the children, it seems that no one else was aware of his prior relationship with Eddie, and Steve is met with open arms and drinks bought for him just as readily as they do Wayne, who, unlike Steve, never declines, having the time of his life.

By the time Steve leaves him in a chair with a cup of water and makes it back to Eddie, he’s a little flushed at the effort he exerted to get Wayne settled there. That, and at all the well wishes being freely and genuinely offered. Those actually had left him feeling pretty good.

Eddie looks amused by it. “Having a good time?” He asks.

“Hawkins loves me, what can I say?” Steve shrugs in reply.

Eddie grins at him, voice spilling out sweetly as he says. “As do I.”

Steve does a double-take before he realizes that there’s an older woman lingering at a desert table within earshot, and replies automatically. “Love you too.”

That makes Eddie roll his eyes, where no one can see, moving in and leading Steve away from the woman with a hand on his lower back. “You’ll have to be more convincing than that, Harrington.” He purrs in his ear.

Steve is…affected. He clears his throat, asking. “And what would you have me do?”

Eddie has led them through the entranceway to a small hallway that clearly leads to the bathrooms, where they stop, Eddie leaning against the wall.

He’s looking at Steve, who can’t get a read on him, until he suddenly hits him with, “You should kiss me.”

Steve gapes at him. “What?”

Series Masterlist

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[luveline]

If you still want roan ideas maybe another Drabble with roan having a tantrum but this time both Eddie and reader are there <33

thank you for your request! eddie and roan ♡ fem!reader 1k

You squeeze toothpaste onto Eddie's toothbrush for him because you love him, and it's kind of nice to watch his eyes, swollen with sleep, soften at the gesture. It's a good start to the morning. 

"Thank you," he says, though it comes out with a lisp as he starts to brush his teeth. 

You're done washing up for the morning and you're both running a little late, so you tap the back of his hand with your index finger and set off to wake up Roan. 

She mumbles when you pull back her blanket. Smiles at you through bleary eyes when you rub her shoulder to wake her up properly. "Come on, babe, I'll help you brush your teeth." 

"I don't want to," she moans. 

She follows you down the hall to the bathroom anyways. You help her up onto the counter and Eddie puts strawberry toothpaste on her little brush between strokes of his shaving razor. 

"Hair down?" you ask her. 

She spits pink dribble into the sink. "I want braids, please." 

"She's so polite," you praise gently, bubbly. "Alright, princess. Let me get some detangler in these lovely curls and that's what we'll do." 

"I can do it," Eddie says, patting his neck clean with a towel. 

"I don't mind." 

Nobody minds. Eddie does her braids while you try to tame your own hair. You leave the bathroom to change into work clothes and things disintegrate from there. 

"No!" Roan says tightly. "I want the purple ones." 

"Baby, you lost one at school and I don't have another set." 

Eddie has Roan's cherry hair ties in hand. They clink when they touch one another, plastic shiny balls that Roan insists on wearing. You and Eddie are happy she's developing her own sense of style and let her wear anything within reason, but you both prefer that her hair ties match. One purple one isn't gonna cut it. 

"I want purple," she says, glaring. 

You stand in the doorway of the bathroom and let Eddie handle it. He doesn't need your help, but if he tries to tag you in you'll happily attempt some soothing. Roan kicks one of her legs out which earns her an eyebrow raise, and throws her toothbrush, which makes Eddie quiet.

He helps her down off of the counter. "Pick it up, Ro." 

"No! I want the purple bunches!" 

"You don't have to pick it up now, but you will at some point. Throwing stuff won't bring you another purple hair tie." 

Roan's eyes fill with tears. You're honestly not sure if they're crocodile ones or not, but her temper starts to build. She and Eddie go back and forth. She demands, he attempts to explain, though his patience does wane when she sits down and starts shouting. 

You hold out your hand, as if to say, I can try. He takes a step back. 

"You wanna tell me why you're yelling?" you ask, crouching down beside her, worried you'll get your work clothes dirty if you sit. 

"Because! I want the purple cherry hair ties!" she says, each word a baby sob. 

"Do you know where they are?" you ask her.

"I lost one at school," she cries. 

"Yeah, baby, you did. And daddy already told you he doesn't have another one. We know you want the purple ones, but we don't have any to give you, and we can't stay here all day. You have art class, I have work, and your dad has to go pick up Uncle Wayne." 

She sobs a little harder when she realises she's not going to get her way. You think these are more genuine than the ones before, but at the end of the day they're tears because she doesn't know how to process upset and anger, and crying is the tool she's been given. You know this, Eddie knows this, but parents also know that there isn't always time to explain. 

There is always time to be empathetic, even if you can't be as gentle as you'd like. 

You grab one of her hands, rubbing her fingers with your thumb. "How about we pick up our mess together and have some breakfast? You'll feel better, I promise." 

She nods. Her cheeks are bright red and wet with tears, and she's a little embarrassed when she picks up her toothbrush and sets it on the counter. 

"Dad?" she asks. 

He steps forward again and he's a softie, he can't stay mad. He takes her cheeks into his big hands and wipes them clean. 

"I'm not trying to be mean, Roanie. We really don't have any more purple ones. You'll have to pick a different colour and let me finish your hair, okay?"

She pouts. "Okay," she says, with an impressive amount of attitude, like Eddie still talking about it is irksome. 

Eddie puts her back on the counter and covers the rubber bands at the ends of her braids with orange hair ties. He wets a wash cloth and wipes her tacky face and eyes, and then he bends down to kiss her nose. 

She stares at him. 

"Can I have one back?" he asks. 

She kisses his nose. 

"Thanks, baby. Do you want a hug, too, or should we go eat breakfast?" 

Roan wants a hug and breakfast. She sits in Eddie's lap and eats toast one sluggish bite at a time. He really is going to be late picking Wayne up if he doesn't get a move on, he still isn't dressed, but he doesn't seem too worried. He brushes the little baby curls from her mouth so they don't get butter in them with his pinky, his own slice of toast held between his index and thumb. 

You sigh. It's draining for all of you when Roan has a meltdown —a headache brews behind your eyes from her screaming— but you wouldn't change anything. 

"Sweetheart," you say, wiping your buttery fingers on a paper towel. "You should go get changed." 

"Okay," Eddie and Roan say at the same time. 

You smile. "I meant you, Eds. I got Roan's clothes right here." 

"Right." He hoists Roan onto the floor, takes a step, and then thinks better of it and leans down to give her another cuddle. "I'll get you new purple hair ties, okay? But we can't start shouting at each other when stuff goes missing, Ro, it's not very nice," he murmurs near her ear. 

She sniffles. "Sorry." 

"No, it's okay. It's okay. I'm just explaining, baby. If you can be a little more patient, me and Y/N will get you new ones. Does that sound like something you can do?"

She nods hurriedly. "Yes."

He kisses the top of her head. He looks more tired than he did when he woke up but he looks pleased, too. He squeezes your arm as he passes and jogs up the stairs. 

Roan hesitates in the middle of the kitchen. 

"I'm not mad, princess," you say. "How about we get you dressed, yeah?" 

She throws herself at your legs and rubs her cheek against your skirt. You smile softly and bend at the waist, covering her back with your hands, her jersey pyjamas soft under your palms. 

"Thanks, mommy," she mumbles.

You pull on one of her braids gently.

"You're welcome." 

[corroded-hellfire]

I don’t have a great idea or prompt but your As You Wish Older!Eddie absolutely stopped me in my tracks and I think about him daily 😩 idk if you’d prefer a totally different universe to write older!eddie but I got thinking about As You Wish Eddie and just wondering what like a different night with him and reader maybe Pre-AYW where they’re a lil cuddly but shouldn’t be or post-AYW date night where things actually go well and it’s happy for them both and Eddie’s efforts are appreciated (looking at u Brittany 😒)

I swear, I didn't intend for this to be so long. Yet here we are. This is Pre-As You Wish. Thank you so much for this request! I love writing this little gang so much.

Words: 11.8k

“But I want one,” Luke says with an overdramatic sigh. He flops back on the couch, arm dropping above his head, reminding you of a swooning Southern Belle. 

“You’re being silly,” you tell him, reaching down to ruffle his brown curls. “It’s not that I just said no, you can’t have one. There are literally no cupcakes in the whole house, kiddo.”

The five-year-old acts as if your words have wounded him, curling up himself and holding his chest with both hands as if he’s been stabbed. Where did he get this stuff?

“Will die without frosting!” Luke says weakly. You can’t help but laugh at his adorable antics as you kneel down near his head. There’s no doubt that he’s the most entertaining part of your job. 

“Oh no,” you say, copying his dramatics. “We’re going to lose Luke!”

Without opening his eyes, Luke gives his head a nod, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. The front door opens and your heart soars, though there’s a brief flash of panic that it’s not the parent of the children that you want to see. When the sound of heavy boots being kicked off reaches your ears, you relax, but stay in character for your game with Luke. 

“Eddie, come quickly!” Your tone is teasing, and you throw him a smile over your shoulder to let him know that you’re only fooling around. Eddie’s smirk says he’s game to play along.

“What’s wrong with my boy?” Eddie says, faking a gasp and coming to kneel next to you at Luke’s side. 

“He says he’s dying from lack of cupcakes,” you say, placing your hand on your heart. 

“Frosting,” Luke grits out, making both you and Eddie hide snorts of laughter. 

“Right. From lack of frosting,” you amend. 

“It’s such a shame,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “If only he could hold on for two more days until his brother’s birthday.”

Luke pops open a bright blue eye, peeking at his father. “Oh yeah.”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie mimics his son’s voice, wrinkling up his nose. 

“What kind of cake?” Luke asks, abandoning his theatrical game and sitting up on the couch.

“I’ll tell you if you give me a hug,” Eddie offers, and Luke launches himself at his dad. Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to his temple. “Vanilla cake. Vanilla icing.”

“Strawberry’s better,” Luke says. 

“Then we’ll have that on your birthday,” Eddie says, mussing up the little boy’s hair before standing. “Where’s Ryan?”

“Taking a bath,” you say, standing up after him. “We finished his homework, and he said if he takes a bath now, he can read before bed instead.”

Eddie grins and shakes his head as he unzips the navy coveralls he’s wearing. Your eyes can’t help but trail his hands, rough and calloused from manual labor, pulling down the zipper so he can shrug his top half out of the garment. 

Luke gets bored now that none of the attention is on him, so he scurries to his room to find something to keep him occupied. 

“That kid,” Eddie says, his tone full of adoration for his oldest son. “I have no idea where he gets it. The brains, the books. Certainly not my genes.”

“Hey, you’re smart,” you argue with a pout. Eddie lets out a chuckle and walks to the kitchen, you hot on his heels. “I’m serious!”

“Sweetheart, I barely got out of high school. Can’t tell you the last time I read a book.”

“There are different types of intelligence, Eddie. I mean, last week! All I said to you was that my car was making a growling noise and within two minutes you knew what was wrong with it. Without even having to go outside and look at it. Jesus, I don’t even know the names for half the crap under the hood. And I guess I’ll just have to lend you a book, huh?”

Eddie smiles at you. A real, open face, full of teeth smile. You take a seat at the kitchen table, unsure if your wobbling knees would be able to hold you up after seeing that grin aimed at you. 

“You’re the best,” he says. A warmth tingles all over your body at his praise. “You wanna stay for dinner?”

The answer to that question depends on what time it is. When your eyes scan over to the clock hanging on the wall and see Brittany is due home in five minutes, that makes the decision for you. 

“Can’t,” you say, eyes sliding back to Eddie where he’s digging through the freezer. Probably in search of something to make. But you notice that he had been watching you, seeing you look over at the clock before answering. 

“Probably have a paper you need to finish,” Eddie says, giving you an out as he resumes his search. 

“Uh, yeah,” you say. But you still have those precious five minutes to be alone with Eddie and you don’t want to waste them. Your mind scrambles for something to talk to him about. “Should I bring Ryan’s present over tomorrow? Or do you want me to wait until Monday?”

Eddie’s brow pinches in a frown and he closes the freezer. “Why don’t you just bring it to the party?”

“His birthday party? Oh, I didn’t realize I was invited.”

Eddie stares at you incredulously. His jaw drops open and he lets out a laugh. “Of course you are. Britt never told you that?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his hair. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks again. “I know she told me she invited you. Because I said I’d do it, then she said she’d handle it.”

“Maybe she forgot?” You try to give her the benefit of the doubt, but Eddie knows better. He doesn’t want to get into it with you, though. Lord knows you don’t need to hear about his marriage issues.

“Well, you are invited. And don’t worry, it’s not going to just be a bunch of little kids. We’re having a barbecue out back, around the pool. Some old friends of mine, my uncle, Britt’s sister and her family, and then a handful of Ryan’s friends. You can bring someone if you want. Your sister, friend, boyfriend, whatever.” Yeah, he was fishing for information that shouldn’t affect him either way, but here he was. Is he proud of it? No. Is he going to stop? Probably not. He knows he’s too attached to you but he’s convinced it can all be a fantasy in his head and everything will be fine. At least that’s what he tells himself. 

“Yeah, I’m free Saturday,” you say. “Um, not sure if I’ll bring anyone. Probably not.” Your best friend, and roommate, knew about your feelings for Eddie, so that would just make you nervous she would accidentally spill the beans and ruin everything. There’s no way you were telling your sister about how you feel because she’d just tell you that you’re being stupid; that you’re a kid with a dumb crush. And maybe that’s true, but you didn’t need to hear it from her. 

Pushing yourself up from the table, you grab your bag from the counter and slip it on your shoulder. 

“See you tomorrow?” you ask.

“I’ll be here,” Eddie says, half of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

You shoot him one last smile over your shoulder before heading down the hallway to say goodbye to the kids.

Fridays are the days you only have one class, which means you get to sleep in a little longer than usual. Except for today, when the phone on your bedside table jars you out of your slumber, the piercing shrill going right through you.

“Who the hell,” you grumble to yourself as you push yourself up onto your elbows. Reaching over, your fingers graze the receiver and tug it to your ear. The anger at being awoken dissipates when you hear the telltale sign of machinery and tools clanging. Even before your favorite voice in the world answers your greeting. “Hello?”

“Hey! Oh shit, did I wake you up?” Eddie asks. You debate lying, but the hoarseness in your voice would call your bluff. 

“Yeah, but it’s fine. My alarm was about to go off anyway.” That was a lie, but one he couldn’t catch you in. “What’s up? Boys okay? You okay?”

Both of you notice the lack of checking in on the last member of the family, but neither of you cares either. On his end of the phone, Eddie can’t help but grin to himself, trying to hide it from the other guys in the shop. First, your early morning voice was just about the cutest thing he’s ever heard, now your worry for him and the boys has his heart kicking up its pace. 

“Yeah, everyone’s fine,” Eddie says. “Just wanted to ask a favor of you, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything.” You could slap yourself for how eagerly you said it. For all you know he’s going to ask you to spend the day with Brittany, which might actually kill you. But who are you kidding? You’d do it if he asked. 

“Well,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Britt kind of dropped the ball. Again.”

It’s not a shock by any means. Squeezing your lips together, you internalize the sigh you so desperately want to let out and pinch the bridge of your nose. 

“She, uh, was supposed to pick up Ryan’s cake from the bakery after work today, but apparently,” Eddie pauses here to huff a humorless chuckle, “she forgot to ever order it. Do you think you can swing by the grocery store and get some vanilla cake mix and vanilla frosting? Ryan didn’t know, thank God, so he won’t be disappointed that it’ll have to be homemade. The kids will want to help with it but by the time I get home there won't be enough time to bake it, let it cool, and frost it before they have to go to bed.”

“Oh, Eddie, of course,” you say. The boys loved baking; you know that from experience. Together you’d made countless cookies and brownies. “Do you need me to grab anything else from the store?”

“No, no, that’s all. And I’ll give you the money for it when I get home, I swear.”

“Eddie,” you say with a chuckle. “It’s fine, I can buy birthday cake ingredients for one of my two favorite little dudes.” 

“Nope, you’re getting that money back,” Eddie says, and you just know there’s a smile on his face as he says it. You can practically hear it. 

“I see why Luke is so stubborn,” you say as you lay back on your pillow. Maybe if you close your eyes and tug your soft purple blanket up to your chin, you can pretend you’re being a normal girl having a conversation with the guy she’s head over heels for. Not a conversation about your job with your boss, who has a wife, and is over ten years older than you. Just Eddie. 

Eddie scoffs on the other end of the line, bringing a dopey grin to your face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “That kid is nothing like me.”

“Ha!” you bark out, making Eddie laugh, the sound like a shot of whiskey hitting your bloodstream. “Pretty sure Luke isn’t your son, he’s your clone.” Literally, the fact that the five-year-old has blue eyes is the only noticeable difference.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie concedes. “I guess I better get back to work before my boss charges me for half the phone bill.”

“Bosses, right? Such a pain in the ass.”

“Listen, you little smartass,” Eddie says through a laugh, a blushing smile making your own cheeks hurt. “I’ll quit my job right now and take yours.”

“Trade you,” you say, knowing he has to get back to work but not wanting to let him go. “I’ll fix the cars.”

“All right,” Eddie says. “Just tell me where the carburetor is located.” Wrinkling up your nose, you stay silent, only proving Eddie’s point. “Uh huh,” he says, voice sounding smug. “So, I’ll go replace the brakes on this Honda and you’ll go to class, hit the grocery store, and take care of two little monsters for a few hours, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m clearly the winner here.”

“You are,” Eddie agrees. “Okay sweetheart, I’ll see you later.”

The term of endearment isn’t new. He’s called you that countless times, along with a variety of other nicknames. He’s probably even said it over the phone to you before, you’re not sure. But the part that’s currently giving you the feeling of pop rocks exploding in your stomach is that anyone who can hear him on the phone at work right now probably thinks he’s talking to his wife. Or girlfriend if they don’t know he’s married. But he said it to you. Something about it makes you feel giddy. 

“Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye,” Eddie drags out the word before the line goes dead. 

After starting your day off by talking to Eddie, you don’t feel the need for your usual cup of coffee. You’re already wide awake. The day seems to be better than a usual Friday, an extra pep in your step that you can only think of one explanation for. Class seemed more interesting, traffic didn’t seem as bad, even finding a parking spot at the notoriously crowded grocery store was easier. 

Strolling down the baking aisle to find the supplies you need, you hum along to the cheery pop tune playing over the store’s speakers. Your eyes scan over the shelves and snag on a box of vanilla cake mix. Dropping that into your basket, you search for the matching frosting. As you look at all the baking supplies in front of you, the sprinkles catch your eye. Which leads you to looking at the tubes of food gel that you can write on cakes with. Pursing your lips as you look it over, you shrug and think, what the hell? The sprinkles and food gel get added to the shopping basket. Now all you’re missing is the vanilla frosting. Which you discover was right in front of your face the whole time, making you roll your eyes at yourself as you snatch it off the shelf. Purposefully keeping the grocery bag in the backseat, and not in the trunk, your next stop is to pick up the munchkins from school. 

The pickup line at the elementary school is long, but you don’t mind. It usually moves pretty quickly, and the radio station is currently playing Billy Joel. Eddie teases you all the time about your love for the singer of Piano Man, but he does at least admit that the man is talented. 

Two bright faces come up to the windows of your gold car, Ryan grinning and waving, and Luke hooking his pointer fingers into his mouth and pulling them wide while sticking his tongue at you. Leaning across the center console as much as you can with your seatbelt still on, squishing up your face and sticking your tongue out in turn. Luke giggles and opens the backseat, climbing in and over the bag to sit behind you. 

“What’s this?” Luke asks as Ryan climbs in behind him. 

“For Ryan’s birthday,” you say, smiling at him over your shoulder. “We’re making a cake when we get home.”

They both cheer as you pull away from the curb and towards the exit off of school property.

Having baked with them before, you knew it could get crazy. Flour usually ends up all over the three of you and the floor. Eggshells seem to get in the batter no matter how much you try to avoid that. But making Ryan’s cake has them amped up to a whole new level.

“Luke, not yet!” You hold the bowl above his head so he can’t pour in the oil that’s not supposed to be added until after the eggs. Mixing a bowl that’s at eye level with you is a difficult task, you find. 

“I got the pans!” Ryan holds up the two round pans that will bake the layers of his cake.

“Perfect. Can you spray them?”

“With this?” Ryan asks, holding up the non-stick spray can.

“Yes, sir,” you tell him as you set the bowl down on the counter. “Okay, Luke. Now you can add the oil.”

Once the cake is in the oven, you clean up as best you can while the boys work on their homework at the kitchen table. You’re sweeping the powdery substance off the floor when Luke asks how you spell your name. Going slowly so he can focus and write it down, you tell him.

“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”

“Homework,” Luke states simply.

“What’s your homework about?” you ask.

“Gotta draw and write the names of my family.”

The broom stalls in your hands at his words. Quickly, you sweep up the debris and walk to look at Luke’s paper over his shoulder. There you are. All the way to the left of the paper, right next to Eddie. It goes, you, Eddie, Luke, Ryan, and Brittany. At the bottom there’s a brown blob. You’re not sure what it is, but your mind is a little occupied with the idea that Luke considers you part of the family. The pressure of warm tears presses behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them come any further. Not sure if he’d understand your affection through words, you bend down and press a few kisses to the top of his dark brown curls.

“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the spot at the bottom of his paper. 

“My dog,” Luke says with a sigh.

“Is it invisible?” you ask, making a show of looking around the kitchen. 

“No,” Luke says with his boyish giggle. His little legs swing underneath the table since they’re too short to touch the ground. “The dog I want.”

“He needs a name too, you know,” you say, tapping at the blank space where the name should go. 

“She!” Luke looks up at you, frown pinching his adorable features. “I want a girl dog.”

“My apologies,” you say, bowing your head to the miniature Eddie. “She needs a name, then.” 

“Nala!”

“Like The Lion King?” you ask.

“Yes!”

Once you help Luke sound out the name so he can add it to his paper, you take a look and see how Ryan’s homework is coming along. 

“Look at you, whizzing through these math problems,” you say, ruffling his honey brown hair. “Little genius over here.”

He gives you a bashful smile and goes back to his work. The boys finish up just as the timer tells you that the cakes are done. Carefully removing them with the ugliest blue and brown checkered oven mitts you’ve ever seen, you place both round pans on top of the stove and turn off the oven. 

“Now the icing?” Luke asks.

“Not yet,” you say, slipping off the mitts. “They have to cool first. But do you wanna see what I bought to decorate them?”

Both little boys kneel on the chairs, laying the top half of their bodies on the table so they can watch you unpack the grocery bag. Luke’s eyes widen when he sees the can of frosting and you’re pretty sure there’s some drool forming in the corner of his mouth. The sprinkles make Ryan happy, his face lighting up and grabbing the jar. 

“So many colors,” he says as he turns the jar around, tilting the sprinkles so he can watch them slide from side to side. The last thing you unpack is the writing gel and neither kid seems to care.

“What is it?” Luke asks.

“You use it to write on the cake,” you say, flipping the box over and showing them the picture on the back. “We can write ‘Happy Birthday, Ryan!’ on it.”

“We can write anything?” There’s a mischievous glint in Luke’s eye that has you raising an eyebrow on him.

“What is it that you want to write?” you ask. 

“Butt,” Luke says, a throaty and immature laugh coming out of him. 

“No,” you say. “Maybe you can convince Daddy to let you write than when it’s your birthday cake.”

“That’s so far away!” Luke says, flopping back in his chair dramatically. 

“Are you coming to my party?” Ryan asks as he slides out of his seat.

“Sure am, buddy.” You pat the top of your head as he walks by you to get a drink from the fridge. “You excited?”

“Eh,” Ryan says with a shrug of his small shoulders.

“Eh? Why eh?” you ask, frowning at him.

“My cousins are gonna be there,” Ryan answers before taking a sip of water. “They’re mean.” 

“Just Sasha,” Luke says to his brother. “Nat and Dmitri are nice.”

“I guess,” Ryan says. 

“Are these Mom’s sister’s kids?” you ask, taking a seat at the table.

“Yeah,” Ryan says. He walks over and leans against you, so you wrap your arm around him and press a kiss to his forehead.

“But there’s gonna be lots of other people there,” you tell him. “It’s going to be so much fun!”

A small smile comes to Ryan’s face, and he nods his head. You’d personally keep this Sasha away from Ryan if you had to. He deserves to have fun at his birthday party, not worry about what some mean kid might say. 

“Okay,” you say, patting Ryan’s arm. “Who wants to play Hungry Hungry Hippos while we wait for the cake to cool?”

Of course they did, so that’s what you spend the next hour doing. The first time, you let them win. But after that, they were beating you just on their own pure speed. It looked like Luke was going to crack the back of the orange hippo.

Standing up once another round has finished, you walk over to the cake to see if it’s still too warm. It’s down to room temperature so you help the boys clean up the game before setting the decorating items on the kitchen table. 

There’s a stereo just on the other side of the wall of the kitchen, in the living room. Decorating calls for some music, you decide, so you open your purse and find the mixed tape that your friend made for you. Usually, mixed tapes are just that: a mixture. But this one was made up of only Billy Joel songs; your favorites all on one convenient tape. First making sure that the thin glossy material of the tape is all on the left side, showing it’s been rewound, you click the tape into place and press play. The opening notes play as you make your way back into the kitchen. 

What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?

Can't you tell that your tie's too wide?

Maybe I should buy some old tab collars?

Welcome back to the age of jive

Luke starts to dance in the middle of the kitchen, mostly consisting of head bobs and moving his shoulders back and forth, but it’s still cute. Keeping one eye on his theatrics, you bring the cakes over to the kitchen table and set each on a plate. The pop topped from the frosting, the gel tubes out of their box, and sprinkle jar ready to rock and roll, you put two plastic knives on the table for the boys to use. 

You're just scooping a large dollop on the top of each cake when the front doorknob jingles and all three of your heads turn in that direction. Eddie steps inside and tosses his keys down. He takes a step towards your direction but halts mid step as he sees the three of you looking at him.

“Hi?”

Luke slides down from his seat and runs to his dad, Eddie scooping him up effortlessly under his armpits and holding the little boy against his chest. 

“Daddyyyy!” he roars.

“Luuuuuke,” Eddie answers, deepening his voice to match the one Luke tried to use. Eddie’s head turns towards the stereo and then he looks at you, eyes narrowed and a smirk on his lips. “You’re subjecting my children to Billy Joel now?”

“They deserve to hear what good music sounds like,” you answer with your own smirk. Truthfully, you love the music that Eddie listens to, it’s just fun to mess with him. 

“Daddy, do you wanna help decorate?” Ryan asks, eyes wide with hope. Eddie could never say no to that face.

“Sure thing, buddy,” Eddie says as he sets Luke down. “Just let me get cleaned up and changed.”

As he heads down the hall, Luke climbs back onto his chair and starts to smooth the white icing around on the yellow cake. 

“More,” Luke says.

“I don’t think so,” you say, eyeing the cake in front of him. “That’s plenty. Just move it around more.”

He lets out a huff, sounding just like his father. 

“This good?” Ryan asks. His cake is completely covered on the top, now just the sides need to be done. 

“Good job,” you tell him. 

Eddie comes back into the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips and a gray t-shirt, arm tattoos on full display for you to enjoy. There’s nothing inherently sexy about the clothes but seeing them on Eddie is making you feel hot all over. He takes a seat at the table, next to Ryan, and looks over the sprinkles and colored gel.

“You didn’t have to get all this,” Eddie says to you, but you just wave him off.

“I knew he’d like it and I was right.”

“Okay, seriously, how much do I owe you?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing,” you say with a laugh. “Keep your money and ice your son’s birthday cake.”

Eddie smirks and gives you a mocking salute before picking up a knife to help Ryan cover the sides. Once both cakes are sufficiently coated, Eddie stacks them, and you touch up any frosting that got messed up. 

The song on the stereo changes to Just the Way You Are and the slow melody has Luke closing his eyes and swaying in his seat, making you chuckle. Ryan picks up the sprinkles and makes them rain down, colored speckles brightening up the plain white dessert. 

Don't go trying some new fashion

Don't change the color of your hair, mmm

You always have my unspoken passion

Although I might not seem to care

Little fingers grab your hand and pull. Turning towards Luke, you see him trying to pull you over to the middle of the kitchen. 

“What?” you ask as you get up and go where he leads you. Once he gets you where he wants you, he keeps a hold of your hand in his and wraps his other arm around the back of your thighs, since it’s the only part of you he can really reach. He starts to sway back and forth, and it dawns on you that he’s trying to slow dance with you. The adoring grin on your face as you look down at the little boy has your cheeks hurting for the second time today. His big blue eyes return your gaze, his own smile just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Luke quickly tires of the slowness, letting go of you and drifting back to the table to try his own hand at the sprinkles. 

“Hey!” you say, jutting your lower lip out at Luke for abandoning you on the dance floor. 

Ryan’s pouting next to him, where he’s still trying to get sprinkles to stick to the side of the cake.

“You can’t just leave her there!” Ryan says to his little brother. He looks down at his sticky little hands and then back to you. His mind must deduce that he can’t dance with you like this. Plus, he’s still working. “Daddy, you dance with her.”

Eddie’s eyes widen for a second as he looks at Ryan, but the look is quickly gone, replaced by that damn smile that drives you crazy. The man rises from his seat and takes a few steps over to you and you feel like your heart might actually explode. Is he really going to dance with you? This has to be a dream. 

Eddie extends his hand to you, which you don’t hesitate to take. He pulls you to him, causing you to giggle and a flush to move up your cheeks. One strong arm wraps around your waist and you think that this just might be the best moment of your life. His other hand, rough and calloused from years of manual labor, holds your smaller, softer hand. When you drape your other arm over his shoulder, hand so close yet so far from the curls at the base of his neck that you always want to play with, Eddie starts to sway back and forth with you. Feeling his body pressed against yours, arm wrapped around your body, hand holding yours, you begin to feel lightheaded. It’s because your breathing has sped up, you realize, and you have to manually take control of your lungs, telling them to inhale longer and exhale fully. 

A surprised giggle leaves your lips as Eddie lets go of your waist and twirls you around by your hand. He’s smiling when you turn back around to face him, his eyes bright and shining. 

I said I love you, that's forever

And this I promise from the heart, mmm

I couldn't love you any better

I love you just the way you are, right

The emotion of the lyrics as Eddie pulls your body back against his has you feeling like you’re underwater. Everything is in slow motion and sounds are garbled, but it’s perfect. You’re sure your skin is on fire and you’re not sure how Eddie isn’t scalding his hands on you. 

Eddie looks down at you as you dance, his dark brown eyes locked on yours, never looking away. Normally, you’d shrink from anyone looking at you this intently, but it’s Eddie. It feels flattering and warm and intimate in a way that you don’t know how to describe. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. First you danced with Luke, then his dad, at Ryan’s insistence. It’s completely innocent. 

As the song comes to a close, Eddie dips you, grip tightening on you as you squeal at the surprise. He chuckles and pulls you back up to your feet. When he takes his hands off you, you feel suddenly cold. Like something is missing. Eddie bends at the waist, bowing to you, so you give him a curtsy in return.

“That’s how you dance with a lady,” Eddie says, giving a playful, barely-there smack on the back of Luke’s head. “Gonna have to teach you to be a gentleman, I see.”

Luke ignores him, finishing up his sprinkle job, but you think there are more sprinkles on Luke than the cake. Ryan hands you a red tube of writing gel, and Eddie a yellow. He has the green one gripped in his small hand.

“Okay, I want you to write ‘Happy,’” Ryan tells his dad before turning to you. “And I want you to write ‘Birthday.’ I’m gonna write my name.” 

Following his instructions, Eddie goes first. He takes his time, tongue poking out in concentration as the yellow gel slips out, curling into the letters weaved by Eddie’s hands in the air. When it’s your turn, you realize you have the longest word to write. As you’re halfway through, the song changes to Uptown Girl and a smile ticks onto your face.

“My favorite,” you say as you curl the H in birthday. It comes out looking pretty good if you do say so yourself. Ryan takes his time with his name as well. Glancing over to Eddie, you see he’s staring off into space, zoned out, mind far away. 

Uptown girl

You know I can't afford to buy her pearls

But maybe someday when my ship comes in

She'll understand what kind of guy I've been

And then I'll win

The beginnings of a smile twitch at one corner of Eddie’s mouth and you’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about so intently. 

“Done!” Ryan announces, breaking Eddie from his trance.

“It looks great, buddy,” Eddie says, patting his oldest son on the back. “Let’s put it in the fridge now.”

Ryan nods and Eddie’s careful in carrying the plate. You open the refrigerator door for him, and he slides it on the top shelf.

“There we go,” Eddie says as you close the fridge. He looks over and sees Luke covered in frosting, sprinkles, and somehow the gel, even though he didn’t touch it. “Luke, you need to go take a bath.”

The boy pouts but slides off the chair and walks down the hallway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke!” you call before he can get into the bathroom.

“Okay! Bye!” he calls back. 

“Come on, Ry,” Eddie says. “Help me clean up.” Eddie grabs the sponge and groans, shooting you a playful glance. “Can't believe you made a mixtape of just Billy Joel.”

“I didn’t make it,” you say, grabbing the kitchen towel and swatting Eddie with it. “My friend Paul made it for me.”

“Oh?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. Ryan takes the can of icing off the table along with the gel tubes, and Eddie runs the sponge over the green tiled table. “Paul, huh? You know, guys usually make mixtapes for girls they like.”

“Mm,” you hum, cheeks warming. “Love songs, I believe. And Paul’s majoring in music so he makes tapes for everyone.” 

Eddie’s tempted to tell you that you should have Paul introduce you to new music, but he can’t bring himself to suggest you spend time with another guy. A college guy, especially, your own age and who you probably hang out with. His grip tightens on the sponge, the water and suds squishing between his fingers. 

“Making a mess, Dad,” Ryan says with a giggle, poking at a bubble one of the suds produces. 

“Go wash up with your brother, okay?” Eddie says. Ryan stops in front of you and holds his arms out for a hug, which you eagerly return.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I can't wait.”

Ryan grins up at you when you release him from your arms. “Me neither! Bye.”

“Bye, sweetie,” you say, giving him a wave as he heads down the hallway. Towel still in your hands, you wipe down the table with it as Eddie puts the sponge back in the sink. The next Billy Joel tune is on and you’re humming it to yourself before you start to sing along.

Who knows how much further we'll go on

Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone

I'll take my chances

I forgot how nice romance is

I haven't been there for the longest time

There’s a smile on your face as you sing the words, the lyrics bringing Eddie to mind. Not that he isn’t always on your mind. 

“Sing those lyrics to Paul?” Eddie asks.

With a frown, you turn to face him. “No. Paul and I aren’t anything. Why?”

“You had a lovesick expression on your face,” Eddie says, his voice a little harder than usual. Did you really have your emotions playing across your face like that? 

“Oh, Eddie,” you say with an over dramatic sigh. “It’s just because I love Billy Joel so much.”

Eddie flicks a few water droplets at you, and you giggle when they hit your face. 

“God, I’m gonna puke,” Eddie says, trying, and failing, to conceal a playful smile. 

“What?” you ask, giving him wide innocent eyes. “You don’t like Billy Joel? Huh, well that’s okay, Eddie.” You walk over to your purse and start to rifle through it, Eddie’s eyes tracking your every movement. “Here, maybe this will be better.” New cassette clutched in your hand, you go over to the stereo and stop the Billy Joel tape. 

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he waits for you to switch to whatever God awful – he can only assume – music you’re going to put on. The new tape snaps back into the stereo and you’re strolling back in the kitchen to drop the Billy Joel tape back in your bag as the opening notes on this particular tape start. 

“No,” Eddie says, eyes narrowing at you when he starts to recognize the song. You pay no mind to him as you zip your purse back up, singing along with the lyrics as they start.

Life is a mystery

Everyone must stand alone

I hear you call my name

And it feels like home

“You’re honestly subjecting me to Madonna?” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his skull. Ignoring his words this time, you keep singing along and twirl until you’re standing right in front of Eddie. Looking up at him with a mischievous smile, you grab his hands in yours and try to get him to dance along. He refuses, but you just keep standing there in front of him, moving your hips back and forth as you keep singing.

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer

I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there

Eddie’s breath catches in his chest. The image the lyrics evoke in his mind is not something he should be thinking about – let alone with you right in front of him. 

I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there

The line keeps repeating in his head on a loop accompanied by the image of you on your knees in front of him. Looking up from below him, your beautiful eyes wide and your lips pouted. Fuck. Why did he decide to put sweatpants on? Shit, he needs to get out of the kitchen before you can see his boner. 

“Uh, those two have been in the bathroom a dangerously long time,” Eddie says. Mercifully, you stop moving your perfectly sculpted hips when he speaks, giving Eddie a moment to compose himself a bit more. “Better go make sure they’re all washed up before I start dinner.”

“Okay,” you say, taking a few steps back from him to go collect your tape from the stereo. You pop it back in your purse and slide the bag onto your shoulders.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asks, turning his body towards the hall to better hide himself. “Party’s at one.”

“I can come by early and help set up?”

Even when desperately trying to usher you out of the house, he’s anxious to get you to come back as soon as possible. “Sure. Twelve? Little after?”

“I’ll be here,” you tell him, giving him a smile that’s not doing any favors for the hard on in his pants. 

He gives you a smile in return, along with a wave before he heads down the hall to the bathroom where the critters are probably making a mess. 

As if picking out a bathing suit to wear for any other occasion wasn’t frustrating enough, now you have to pick one that Eddie would see you in. Impossible as it was, you managed to pick one. It’s a one-piece dark green suit with cut outs along the sides, exposing the sides of your ribs. It became the winning suit mostly because of how well it holds your boobs up, though. The girls are on display, but not about to fall out of your suit. A pair of denim shorts and a faded white t-shirt are your choices to throw on top of it. You scoop up Ryan’s gift and head out the door.

When you park your car in front of the Munson residence you can tell the backyard is being set up. Luke’s loud voice sounds from around the house, chattering away to who you can only assume is Eddie. The sound of patio chairs scraping against the pool deck drowns out the little boy’s voice, but you hear Eddie hum in agreement with something he said. Just that little sound from Eddie has an involuntary smile spreading on your face and you head to the side of the house where the gate to the backyard is located. 

“Luke, can you move that chair over? The one by the grill.” 

Eddie catches sight of you as you come around the corner of the house. His face lights up and it almost causes you to trip over your own sandals. When he goes to open his mouth to say hello, you hold your finger up to your lips, eyes darting towards Luke and back again. Eddie nods, a smirk playing over his lips. Slowly so as not to make a sound, you put Ryan’s gift down on the table closest to you and kick off your shoes. Luke’s back is still turned as you tiptoe closer to him. Striking, you reach out and snatch the small boy in your arms, hugging him to your chest. Squeals escape his tiny frame as he wriggles in your arms, and you press kisses to his cheek.

“Got you!” you call over his laughter. 

Eddie’s chuckling as he watches the two of you, untangling a string at the end of a “Happy Birthday” banner. 

“You scared me!” Luke says. 

“That was the point,” you say as you tickle his sides. He wiggles his way out of your grip and gives you a playful push. You pretend to stumble back, as if his strength was just too much for you. The triumphant look on his face melts your heart and you just want to snatch him up again. But before you can, Eddie’s voice calls for you.

“What’s up?” you ask, strolling over to the man.

“This ladder is kind of wobbly, can you hold it for me while I hang up the sign?” he asks.

“I can do it,” you say, holding your hand out for the banner.

“You sure?” Eddie asks, arching an eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I trust you holding the ladder more than I do me.”

“If you insist.” He hands over the sign and you climb a few rungs up the ladder. Eddie’s hands hold the ladder on either side of your body, and he feels his cheeks flush when your ass is right at his eye level. Giving himself just a moment to enjoy the view, he decides not to be a perv and look up to where you’re securing the banner above the back door. 

“How’s it look?” you ask.

Your ass? Perfect, he thinks to himself. 

“Uh, looks good,” Eddie says. You climb down and are boxed in by the older man’s arms as he still holds on to the ladder. His lips quirk to the side as your eyes meet his. “Looks, um, really good.” 

Eddie bites his bottom lip, only breaking his trance when the back door opens, and he instinctively wraps his arm around you to tug you out of its way. The door bangs against the ladder and Ryan winces as he steps outside. He’s about to apologize when his eyes take in you standing there. The fear in Eddie screams that Ryan’s eyes went wide because his arm is around you, so he quickly drops it. But really, Ryan is just excited to see you. He runs over and throws his arms around your middle, burying his face in your stomach.

“Hey, you! Happy birthday, Ryan.”

“Thank you!” Ryan pulls back, giving you a grin. 

Eddie folds the ladder in and picks it up, your eyes immediately drawn to his muscles flexing in his Iron Maiden tee that he probably cut the sleeves off of himself. 

“Luke!” Brittany shouts from inside and it seems like all four of you in the backyard tense at the sound. Her footsteps are quickly approaching the back door and Luke groans, shuffling himself closer to you and Ryan. The door hinges squeak and Ryan’s grip tightens around you. 

“There you are,” Brittany says, eyes locking on her youngest son. Her eyes glance briefly over to you, then back to Luke. “Hi.” 

It takes a moment before you realize she was talking to you. “Uh, hi, Brittany.”

“Luke, come inside and help me. Eddie, you need to get the towels out of the linen closet.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. He ruffles Luke’s hair and prods him along to follow his mom inside.

“Need me to do anything out here?” you ask. 

“Uh…” Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and looks around the patio. “Not gonna light the grill til people start getting here. Chairs and tables are all set up. Oh!” He snaps his fingers and walks over to pull a box off of one of the deck chairs. “Can you put the birthday tablecloths on the tables?”

“Of course.” Bending down, you press a kiss to the top of Ryan’s head. “I put your present right over there. Wanna take it inside?”

“Yes!” 

For the next forty-five minutes you help the Munson’s around the house, setting up decorations, putting the snacks into bowls, and trying to keep Luke from shaking Ryan’s gifts around to try and figure out what’s inside. You're pulling the burgers and hotdogs out of the fridge in preparation for Eddie to grill when the man in question walks into the kitchen, Iron Maiden shirt still on, but his jeans exchanged for a pair of silver swim trunks. 

“Where are the boys?” he asks.

“Getting changed into their bathing suits,” you say as you knock the fridge closed with your hip.

The doorbell rings and Eddie heaves a sigh. “And so it begins.” He heads out to answer it and comes back in with an older man whom you recognize from photographs. Still, Eddie introduces the two of you.

“This old geezer is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, playful smirk set on his pretty lips. 

“Ah, you must be the young lady the boys are always talking about.”

Wayne offers his hand which you shake with a polite smile on your face. Eddie hopes neither of you notice the pink tinge over his cheekbones because he knows he’s guilty of talking about you more than he probably should. 

“I guess that’s me,” you say. 

“Grandpa!” Luke runs in and launches himself at the older man. Wayne laughs and catches the young boy, swinging him up into his arms.

“There’s my troublemaker,” Wayne says.

“Fitting nickname,” you say with a giggle and Luke sticks his tongue out at you.

“Tongue to yourself,” Eddie says, tugging on one of Luke’s curls.

Over the next hour you’re introduced to so many people that you sincerely hope no one expects you to remember them all. There’s Brittany’s sister Sandy and her three children (that you can already tell are a handful), Eddie’s friend Dustin that you’ve heard so much about, and you definitely remember Steve Harrington—because he’s so handsome.

“Hi,” you say, offering Steve your hand to shake. His wife Nancy and their four kids have already come in and gone out to the backyard, but Steve was lagging behind since he was getting the presents out of the car. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Steve says, shooting you a smile. Maybe it’s his old high school insecurities kicking in, but Eddie quickly claps Steve on the back and sends him out by the pool. 

But your favorite people you think you’ve today are also old friends of Eddie’s from high school. They came into the house bickering, but somehow it was in an adoring way that let you know it was them showing affection for one another. The man was tall, taller than both Eddie and Steve, and had an infectious smile. His wife had her fiery red hair up in a high ponytail and their baby in her arms.

“This is Lucas, Max, and little baby Tiffany,” Eddie tells you. Tiffany looks up at you with wide dark eyes, a gleeful expression on her chubby little face. 

“Oh, she’s precious,” you coo, smiling at the happy little girl. “How old is she?”

“Eight months,” Lucas says, looking adoringly at his daughter.

You end up sitting with the little family outside by the pool, on a deck chair next to Max while she holds the giggling baby in her lap. Ryan is happy, splashing away in the pool with his friends. It warms your heart to see the normally quiet boy laughing so loudly and having the time of his life. Eddie’s at the grill, flipping hamburgers and surrounded by Dustin, Steve, and Lucas. You’ve never seen Eddie with his friends before. He’s relaxed, spatula in his hand, and an easy smile on his face. They’re all laughing at something Dustin said and it brings joy to your face.

“Oh, shit,” Max says from next to you, drawing your attention away from Eddie.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, turning to face her. 

“I left her favorite pacifier in the car,” she answers with a sigh.

“Do you want me to go get it?” you offer.

“I’m not sure where it is in there.” Max stands, holding Tiffany on her hip. “Would you mind holding her while I go check?”

“Not at all,” you say, a smile on your face as the little girl beams at you. Max hands her over and her tiny fingers go right up to your mouth, making you giggle.

“I should be back in five minutes. But Lucas is over there if you need him.”

“Oh, we’ll be fine,” you assure her, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s my job.”

Max gives you a smile before heading back into the house.

“Well, hello, Miss Tiffany,” you say, holding her on your hip. She babbles in the language of babies, and you tilt your head. “I know. I agree.”

Eddie looks up from the grill to say something to Steve, but over his friend’s shoulder he catches sight of you holding Tiffany. It feels like his heart is going to liquify and melt right out of his chest. He’s always wanted a baby girl. But he also did not want to have any more children with Brittany. But seeing you, the girl he has a completely inappropriate crush on, holding a baby girl? Smoke is going to start coming out of his ears, joining that from the grill. 

“Uh, Steve, watch the grill for me? Just gotta ask what some people want to eat.” Eddie’s not even really looking at Steve as he shoves the spatula in his hand, moving past his group of friends and walking over to you. As he gets closer, he can hear you talking to Tiffany in that squeaky voice all adults seem to talk to young children in. The baby is giggling and waving her little hands around and it makes Eddie smile.

“Well, seems like you made a new friend,” Eddie says, coming to stand beside you so he can admire the girl as well. 

“And she’s just the sweetest little thing,” you say, still in the baby talk voice. Tiffany starts to fuss a little in your arms, but you’re quick to readjust her position and hike her up a little higher on your hip. It seems to have done the trick because she rests her head on your chest and looks up at Eddie with her large dark eyes. 

“Hey there, Tiffany,” Eddie says. She blinks at him, dark eyelashes kissing her cheek. 

“Isn’t she beautiful?” you ask.

“Absolutely,” Eddie says, eyes glancing at you. 

“I want one,” you say, only half joking. As if Eddie couldn’t want you any more than he already did, you had to go and say that. He can’t help it, he leans in and brushes a soft touch over Tiffany’s thin brown hair on the top of her head, Eddie’s head practically resting on your shoulder as he does it. He wants this so bad it hurts. His heart is in a vice grip and every day the handle seems to turn it even tighter. 

It’s affecting you as well. You’ve always wanted kids and loved being around them. It’s why you became a babysitter to begin with. But holding this sweet little girl with Eddie standing so close to you? You can’t help it, you close your eyes and let the fantasy take hold that this is your and Eddie’s baby in your arms. The warmth of his body is radiating over to you and the baby lays gently against your breast. The boys are having fun in the pool, and this is your little family. 

“Got it.” Max’s voice breaks you out of your illusion. She’s brandishing a green pacifier in the air as if it’s a trophy, the prize she’s been searching for. As soon as Tiffany catches sight of the pacifier, it gains all of her attention. She makes grabby hands for it and Max is quick to pop it into her mouth.

“Thank you so much,” Max says as she takes the baby from your arms.

“Not a problem. She was a little angel,” you tell her.

“She gets that from me.” Max smirks at Eddie, as if she’s expecting his bark of laughter even before he does it. 

“Uh huh,” Eddie says. “Check that red hair again, I’m sure you’ll find some horns growing beneath it.”

“I’d flip you off if my child wasn’t in my arms,” Max says.

“Then thank you, Tiffany,” Eddie says, leaning in towards the baby. She reaches out and tugs on one of Eddie’s curls.

“See? She said that’s what you get for talking like that about her mom,” Max says. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says. “What do you want to eat?” He then asks you and pats your shoulder before walking back over to the grill.

The kids aren’t thrilled when they have to come out of the water to eat, because they know they’ll have to wait for a half hour afterwards before they can go back in. But Eddie had been prepared for that level of boredom from these rambunctious rugrats and had a few games set up for them on the back lawn. It wasn’t much, but the kids seemed to enjoy playing with the bean bag toss and the horseshoes. 

Once the half hour is up, you’re ambushed by Ryan who insists you come in the pool. Trying to tell him that you don’t want to seems futile since he has the double advantage of having those adorable puppy dog eyes and the fact that it’s his birthday on his side. He cheers when you agree, and the sound draws the attention of his father who had been talking with Wayne. But his gaze has been captured elsewhere when he sees you strip your white shirt over your head, revealing the green swimsuit beneath. When you bend over to take off your denim shorts, Eddie loses all coherent thought in his head. You turn to face Ryan fully, which also has you facing Eddie head on. His eyes take in every inch of you. From the way the bathing suit lifts your already impressive breasts, how the cutouts on the side of the suit tease him with glimpses of your soft, smooth skin, to the way the material hugs your hips just right and your long legs are left bare. They look so inviting and the only thought that goes through Eddie’s mind is that he wants to mark them up. Make that soft skin turn purple and red under his adoring mouth. 

You follow Ryan into the pool, taking one step at a time. The deeper you get, the colder it gets, so your muscles tense as you wade into your waist. Eddie chuckles as he sees you gritting your teeth, your shoulders pulled up to your ears, and your arms held just above the water, but not touching. 

Luke swims over and throws himself at you, making you squeal as the water from his body and the splash send goosebumps down your skin. 

“S’cold,” you say to Luke who only giggles in return. You wrap your arms around his small waist as he clings to you, arms coming up to encircle your neck. 

“Throw me?” Luke asks. 

“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods his head wildly, wet curls bouncing and shaking water everywhere. 

Moving your hands to the sides of his tummy, you bend your knees to coil your energy up before tossing the five-year-old into the deep end of the pool. He makes a splash, showering some of the other kids in the pool–who you were careful to avoid when throwing him. Luke pops back up, laughing as he shakes the water from his head like a dog coming out of the bath. 

“Not far enough!” he shouts as he swims back over to you. 

“Well, sor-ry,” you say, wrinkling up your nose at him. 

“Daddy throws me farther,” Luke says. 

“Well, your daddy is stronger than I am.”

“Daaaaaaddy!”

You wince at Luke’s volume, him taking full advantage of not having to use his inside voice.

“Luuuuke,” Eddie replies, strolling over to the edge of the pool, hands on his hips.

“Can you come throw me?” Luke asks, treading water. He has to squint his blue eyes in the sunlight to see his father semi clearly.

“Didn’t I just see you flying in the air?” Eddie asks, gesturing towards the deep end of the pool. 

“Apparently, I’m not strong enough to throw him as far as he wants to go,” you say, tilting your head as you look up at Eddie, attempting not to ogle him. 

“This kid and his high standards,” Eddie says with a sigh. He reaches down, whips his shirt off, and all attempts not to blatantly stare become futile. The muscles rippling in his lithe frame as he tosses the shirt back onto an empty chair have you biting your lip to keep in an inappropriate noise. 

Eddie steps forward, letting himself just drop into the pool with an effortless grace. It causes a large splash that smacks both you and Luke in the face but judging by the smirk on his face when he resurfaces, Eddie did it on purpose. “All right, come here you little hobbit.”

You watch Eddie grab his son and place his hands under Luke’s armpits. The excitement is clear on Luke’s face and it’s contagious, bringing an adoring smile to your lips as you watch the father and son. Eddie double checks to make sure there’s a clear path to throw Luke, then tosses him towards the deep end, the little boy grinning the whole time he’s in the air. Luke was right–his dad throws him farther. Ryan swims over, wanting a turn as well, which leads to most of the kids in the pool wanting to be thrown in the air. Eddie obliges, but you can tell that his muscles are getting tired as the children start to fly less and less farther into the deep end. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie eventually says, his breath labored from all the activity. “That’s enough for now.” He dips under the water to cool down and when he comes back up, you swear he moves in slow motion like some cheesy movie moment; the beads of water dropping down his skin, his hair shaking out around him, curls weighed down from the water. It’s enough to make you go feral. 

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. There’s a mischievous look on his face and it makes you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Yes?” you ask.

“I think I have enough strength to throw one more person,” he says, sly smirk painting his features. 

“No,” you say with a laugh, shaking your head as you try to swim away from him. But he’s too fast. Too fast and too strong as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body back against his. The bare back of your shoulders is pressed up against his naked chest and the goosebumps that dot your skin are certainly from that and not the cool temperature of the air now that you’ve been in the water so long. Eddie spins you around so you’re face to face with him, and the ferocity of the turn has you reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You’re practically nose to nose with him, so you decide to take advantage of the moment and take him in. The darkness of his beautiful eyes. The smattering of freckles that dust the bridge of his hose and up his cheekbones. How plush and pink his lips are, even if they’re slightly chapped. Your eyes follow a droplet of water as it runs over his pretty mouth, down his strong chin, then plops back into the pool.  

“Ready?” he asks, voice low. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you silently thank God you’re in a pool that will keep anyone from seeing how your thighs clench together. If he kept talking to you like that, you’d do anything he asked of you. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, as if it’s the only answer you could give him. His grip around your waist tightens, fingers against your bare skin showing through the suit’s cutouts, and you can feel his muscles flexing under your hands that still rest on his shoulders. There’s a small twitch of Eddie’s lips before he’s throwing you, sending you backwards into the water. Holding your breath as you go under, your skin still tingling where his hands had been on you. Body floating back up to the surface, you let out a huff of air once you break the surface. Laughter bubbles out of you as you wipe your eyes, whipping your hair out of your face. 

Ryan’s cake is next, and the expression of pure joy on his face has you feeling the pressure of tears behind your eyes. All of the little dancing flames extinguish with just one breath from the newly crowned seven-year-old. Luke is eager for a slice of the cake, not only because he was dying from lack of frosting earlier in the week, but because he was part of the labor that put this confection together. 

As the party winds to an end, you’re thoroughly tired, but it’s only fair that you help clean up since you helped set up. In your mind, anyway. Eddie disagrees, practically trying to take empty plates and dirty forks out of your hands when you try to clear the tables. Most of the guests are gone when Sandy, Brittany’s sister, grabs her keys and rounds up her three kids.

“Oh,” Brittany says, coming into the kitchen where you and Eddie are. She grabs her purse off the counter and slides it onto her shoulder. You’re not sure when she changed from the small string bikini she had on before, but she’s now wearing jeans and a nice blouse. “Sandy and I are heading to the store. I’ll be back.” Then she’s out the door. No further explanation. No asking if he needed her to pick up anything. Just leaving him with the remnants of a child’s birthday party, all the burdens falling on him. Or they would have, had you not been there. You would never leave him on his own like this. Your nails dig into your palms, and you drop your hands behind your back so Eddie can’t see. He doesn’t seem all that surprised, though. His eyes stay on the door for a few moments before he sighs and brings his attention back to wrapping up the leftover burgers. 

“You okay?” you ask in a small voice. Anger and empathy battle each other in your head, one for the bitch who walked out the door, one for the beautiful man standing in front of you. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, putting the burgers in the fridge. “Surprised she didn’t dip out earlier, to be honest.”

Unsure of what to say, your hands twitch by your sides for a moment before you’re striding forward and wrapping your arms around his middle, laying your head against his shoulder. Eddie hesitates for half a second before his arms come up to encircle your waist, his head resting on top of yours. Neither of you says anything, just stand there in the quiet kitchen, holding onto one another. In both of your heads there’s a little voice telling you that this hug has gone on for too long for it to be considered appropriate between boss and employee, but neither of you care. You’re only jostled apart as you hear the backdoor open on its squeaky hinges. Reluctantly, you let go of one another and don’t meet each other’s eyes as Wayne comes into the kitchen with Luke, both of them bringing in trash from the backyard. As Luke steps towards the sink with the half-filled cup of fruit punch he’s holding, he trips over his own feet and the red liquid goes flying, landing right on the front of your white shirt. The cold drink makes you gasp as it soaks through the chest and stomach. Luke’s eyes immediately widen, tears welling up in them and you forget all about the bite of the wetness. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you say, crouching down and rubbing up and down his arms. “Aw, don’t cry, sweetie. It was an accident.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke says, a few tears spilling over the brim. You wipe them away and shake your head.

“It’s okay,” you say. “I promise.” Luke nods and you help him throw away the rest of the garbage he brought in. 

“Luke, why don’t you clean up the floor while I get her a shirt to change into?” Eddie asks. Luke nods his head, letting out one more sniffle before he stands on his tiptoes to get the paper towels off of the counter. 

Wayne pats your shoulder, and you give him a smile. “You’re real good with them.”

“Thanks,” you say. “They’re the best.”

“I have to agree,” he says with a gruff chuckle before ushering Luke back outside so they can bring in anything that was left out there.

“Here,” Eddie says as he comes back into the kitchen. He offers you a white raglan shirt with black sleeves. You hold it up in front of you and see the emblem of a red devil’s head, fire and other accessories surrounding the face. 

“What’s Hellfire?” you ask. 

“Name of the D&D club in high school.”

“Oh right,” you say. “I remember you telling me about that. It’s where you met Dustin, right?”

“Yeah, he was–.” Eddie trips over his own words as you slip your soiled shirt over your head. Yes, you’re wearing your bathing suit underneath still, so you thought nothing of it. But Eddie wasn’t expecting it and all activity moves from his brain down to his crotch. How is supposed to keep composed when you just whipped your shirt off like it was nothing right in front of him, the support of your bathing suit basically forcing your breasts into his view? He feels himself twitch in his swim shorts and clears his throat before continuing. “Dustin, uh, was a freshman, yeah.” He originally had more to say, but nothing else comes out. 

As hot as it was when you took your shirt off, Eddie seeing you in a Hellfire shirt, his Hellfire shirt, it makes his brain short-circuit even further. He’s saved from embarrassing himself by stuttering in front of you by Wayne coming back in, throwing out another handful of trash. 

“I’m gonna go see if the boys need help,” you say, shooting both men a smile before heading out to the backyard.

As soon as they hear the door close behind you, Wayne rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. His uncle sighs and Eddie turns his head to look at him.

“She’s a real sweetheart, that babysitter of yours,” Wayne says.

“She is,” Eddie agrees. 

“Pretty, too.” 

There’s the slightest arch of Wayne’s eyebrow and Eddie opens his mouth, no sound coming out. He stumbles under the knowing gaze of the man who knows him better than anyone else in the world. Eddie finally manages to nod his head. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks. 

“Yeah, she is.” 

Once the house is back in order and the boys are tucked into their beds, both you and Eddie crash on the couch. Brittany still hasn’t come back yet to the surprise of neither of you. But if Eddie was completely honest with himself, he’d rather his wife stay out and have you stay here with him. 

“Today was fun,” you say, letting your head drop to the back of the couch.

“It was,” he agrees. “More than I thought it would be. But also, way more exhausting.”

“You should get some sleep,” you murmur, shifting yourself so you can head out. But Eddie has other plans, nodding and resting his head on your shoulder. There’s a spike in your heartrate as his hair tickles the side of your neck. Your stomach is full of butterflies and they’re bumping into one another as they fly around. Eddie stays that way until you hear Brittany’s car in the driveway and jostle him awake. 

“Eddie,” you say softly, not wanting to scare him.

“Hmm?”

“Brittany’s home.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he probably wouldn’t have let out the irritated groan like he did, but it’s too late now. Not like you don’t know the two of them are having issues, anyway.

“I’m gonna head out. “I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

“See you on Monday. Oh.” He catches your wrist as you stand up from the couch. “Thank you for helping today. Setting up and cleaning. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you tell him with a smile. “Anything for my favorite boys.”

On Monday, Eddie’s bent under the hood of a car, trying like hell to unscrew a stubborn cap. The voice of his friend startles him and he almost bangs his head on the hood as he jumps.

“Hey,” Steve says.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, wiping grease on the rag hanging over his shoulder. “It acting up again?”

“Yep,” Steve says, sliding his hands in his pocket. Eddie lets out a sigh and nods his head.

“Okay, I’ll try and work it in today.” He makes to go back under the hood, but Steve’s question has him freezing his movements.

“So, uh, question for you. Are you fucking the babysitter? Because between you and me? You should be.”