#that fucking exhale that ed does

[pumpkinspicepirates]

Is anyone else listening to Because The Night and just hung up on the way I feel under your command.

Ed with the cat collar, heavy breathing.

"What would you have me do, captain?" 😏🔥

[girlgenius1111]

throw it all away part 2

part 2 of 2 :) [putellas!reader] just because she knows, now, doesn't mean the path to recovery is straightforward. alexia struggles to help you the way you need. you struggle to even want help. tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.

—

The protein shake glass sat empty in front of you when Alexia walked into the kitchen. Olga was in the chair next to you, rubbing your back slowly. There were tears running down your face, but your expression was stony. 

Alexia took the seat next to you without a second thought, pulling you into her side. “I’m proud of you.”

“I hate myself.” You murmured, almost against your will. “This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s ridiculous.” 

“It’s not ridiculous,” Alexia objected. “It’s okay. This happens, it’s normal, pequeña.” 

You looked at her strangely, pulling away from her embrace and your sister winced at her own words, scrambling to fix her mistake. “I just mean this is how you’re supposed to feel. In recovery, this is normal. It’s going to be hard, but you just have to push through and-”

“Ale,” Olga interrupted, shaking her head gently. 

Alexia looked back at you, falling silent as she did so. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, or maybe anger, and you were staring at the plate in front of you like it had personally harmed you. The blonde couldn’t take the look on your face, wanted more than anything to just say the right thing and have all the answers for you, and she started blabbering again before she could stop herself. 

“You did a really good job finishing your protein shake-”

At this, you rolled your eyes, and Alexia started talking faster. 

“-maybe we can get your favorite takeout for dinner? The pasta place you like, with the– ow, Olga.” 

Again, Alexia fell silent, rubbing her arm where her girlfriend had elbowed her. Olga was shooting her a look and your sister sighed, rubbing at her forehead with her hand. Obviously discussing food was a no go, she should know better than that. She thought hard, trying to think of anything that would make you feel better, get rid of the horribly sad frown on your face. 

“Maybe you can come to training tomorrow and watch! So you don’t miss out on too much, and-”

“Alexia, for the love of god, shut up.” You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air and rising from your chair. 

“Pequeña, I’m just trying to-” 

“You don’t want me to miss out on too much training, I got it. Football is the most important thing. I know that, Alexia. I know. I know I’m fucking my season right now, I know I’m fucking the team, so please just, for once, stop talking about fucking football.” 

Alexia couldn’t help the hurt that panged in her chest, or the pained look she was sure flashed across her face. You felt guilt split your chest open at the sight, but you pushed that away, trying to hold onto your anger, which was quickly fading. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You turned to walk out of the room, but Olga’s voice behind you made you freeze in your tracks. 

“Nena? Can you leave the door open a crack please?” 

You felt everything inside of you seize up at her words, shame and frustration and embarrassment and hurt welling up, until a few tears fell down your cheeks. God, you hated that they knew. They didn’t even know but they knew, and that was awful. Incomparably, singularly awful. 

“Why does she have to– oh.” Alexia said. She hadn’t really considered that as a possibility. She thought you just weren’t eating. This seemed… worse, somehow. When you turned around to look at her, you could tell she thought it was worse. 

“Yeah.” You agreed, turning back around and practically stomping out of the room. 

As soon as you were gone, Alexia turned to her girlfriend. “How did you know she was… doing that?” 

Olga exhaled heavily, leaning back in her chair. The two of you were going to give her a migraine, but she didn’t really blame you. Alexia on the other hand…

“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but I asked her to leave the door open just in case. Her reaction, though… she is.” 

“Oh.” Alexia mumbled, unconsciously reaching for her girlfriend’s hand. Olga pulled away with a shake of her head, sitting up straighter in her chair. 

“Ale, you have to relax. Talking her ear off isn’t helping right now, she’s already overwhelmed.” 

“I’m just trying to help!”

“I know you are, amor, but you have to think about how she’s feeling right now,” 

“But I don’t know how she’s feeling! I want to, but I don’t understand! I can’t understand. Keeping your body healthy is the most important thing in football, and I don’t understand why she’s done this, because I would never do this. How am I supposed to help if I don’t understand? I can’t, Olga. I can’t fix this.” 

Both women were speaking too loudly to hear your footsteps returning to the kitchen, though you paused just outside the doorway, catching the end of your sister’s sentence. 

I can't fix this. she'd said. 

I can’t understand. 

I would never do this. 

How am I supposed to help?

It sounded like she’d already given up on you. She’d decided she couldn’t understand, couldn’t help, and it was all your fault. For pushing away her attempts to help earlier, snapping at her when you knew she was just trying to make you feel better. You felt like a lost cause, but now she felt that way about you too. 

You took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen before Olga could reply. You looked oddly pale and shaky, and though it was because you’d overheard your sister and misunderstood, Ale didn’t know that. She glanced over at you, doing a double take as her eyes widened. 

“Nena, did you…?” 

Next to the blonde, Olga suppressed a sigh. You blinked at her for a second, confused, before recoiling backwards, a scowl etched onto your face. “No. I left the door open like you told me to, and I didn’t do anything.” 

Alexia relaxed, just barely, clearly about to say something else that would be entirely wrong when Olga spoke first. 

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a little bit, pequeña? It’s been a long day, you must be exhausted and overwhelmed.” 

Your sister nodded her agreement, and you felt your heart sink even further if possible. Of course they didn’t want to deal with you anymore today. You didn’t say you’d rather be with them, because the loneliness would be almost too much to bear. You just nodded, eyes fixed on the hardwood floor under you as you turned and left the room once more.

—

Alexia felt slightly more prepared to talk to you when she knocked on your door a half hour later. She’d done some quick research, compiling another list in her head of what to say and what not to say. She’d tried to convince Olga to go up and check on you instead of her, because all the midfielder seemed to be able to do today was mess up, but Olga had insisted that it be Alexia. You needed your sister, and Alexia needed to make up for the absolute disaster she’d been earlier. 

All she got in response to her knock was a sharp huff. 

“Chiqui? Can I come in?” 

“I guess.” You called back. Alexia opened your door, slipping inside and finding you sprawled on your bed, staring hard at the ceiling. 

She hovered in the doorway uncertainly, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling?” You snapped, glaring at her harshly. 

“Hey,” Alexia tried, though she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to scold you for catching an attitude with her. She didn’t know what any of the rules were anymore. 

You shook your head with an annoyed huff. “What do you want, Ale? I thought I didn’t need to talk any more today.”  

And Olga had promised you that. Alexia was just hoping, perhaps naively, that you’d want to talk to her more. Instead, it seemed like you were barely holding yourself back from forcibly shoving your sister out of your room.

Any other time, any other situation, Alexia would have shouted at you to be respectful. Both of you knew that. It only made you feel worse that she felt that she had to tiptoe around you. She was treating you differently already and you hated that. 

Alexia studied you for a few moments, before walking over to your bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. She put her hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, and Alexia bit her lip.  You noticed she was wearing this absurd shirt you’d gotten her as a joke a few years ago, one that proclaimed her as the world’s best sister. Really, you’d given it to Ale to spite Alba after arguing with her, though you’d also gotten Alba one a few days later, just to make sure her feelings weren’t hurt. Alexia wearing it now could have been completely accidental, or it could have been some kind of weird confidence boost she was trying to give herself. Either way, you felt emotion try to claw out of the pit you’d shoved it into, but you pushed it down again. 

“I just want to help you.” The blonde said finally, her hands fiddling with a stray thread on your comforter. 

You scoffed, sitting up off your bed and turning to face your sister. “You don’t mean that.” 

Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, an absolutely crestfallen look on her face. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?” 

“You don’t. You said so earlier, you don’t understand, you can’t understand, you’d never do this. How are you supposed to help? You can’t, so don’t pretend that you want to.” You were fully crying now, pacing around your room but absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Alexia. 

The midfielder’s heart sank as you threw her words back at her. She hadn’t known you’d overheard her, hadn’t realized how that had sounded. She’d been begging Olga to give her some guidance, not expressing that she’d given up on you, that she didn't really want to help you. 

“Oh, mi pequeña,” Alexia whispered, standing and pulling you into a hug. You didn’t hug her back, even as her arms wrapped tight around you, and she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s not what I meant, not at all. I’ve never been through this, nena, and it’s hard for me to understand, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. I do, more than anything.” 

“You shouldn’t bother. It’s hopeless, I can’t do this.” You sobbed, finally hugging Alexia back, clinging on tightly to her shirt. 

“It’s not hopeless. It might feel like it is, but I am never going to give up on you, on trying to understand, on trying to help. Never, nena.” 

You pulled away for her, guilt once again replacing anger. Taking a few shuddering breaths, you tried to get your thoughts in order, or, you supposed, your feelings in order. You looked at your sister again, her arms at her sides as she looked at you helplessly. 

“You’re being too patient with me.” You whispered, sitting down heavily on the edge of your bed. 

Alexia took a seat next to you, feeling like maybe… maybe she did know what to say. “No. I don’t think I’m being patient enough.”

You shook your head, though still allowed your sister to grab your hand in hers. Whether it was for your comfort or for hers, you weren’t sure. Maybe both. “I’m not…I’m not sick. This problem, it’s all mental. I don’t deserve for everyone to be this kind and this patient. I chose this.”

There was a certain guilt that accompanied all of this. A real sickness, in your mind, wasn’t something that a person inflicted onto themselves. This was your fault. You had started it, you had continued it, and you’d let it get so bad that other people had to intervene. You didn’t deserve your sister’s patience. 

Alexia gripped your hand tighter. “You are sick. Your brain is sick. And while you get better, you deserve all the kindness and patience. You made choices that got you here, but you are sick, hermanita. Just a different type than you’re used to.” 

You looked at her tearfully, an almost pleading expression on your face. “I don’t know how to get better, Ale. I don’t know if I can.” 

Alexia understood, then, that you weren’t pushing her away because you didn’t want her help, necessarily. You just didn’t want to waste her time when the task ahead of you felt so entirely impossible. 

“I don’t know either. I don’t really know how to help you, but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to do it. Whatever it takes, nena. You are my baby sister, and you are worth the effort. I’m not going to give up on you. Not ever.” 

For a moment, you looked at Alexia like you used to look at her. When you were tiny and she was your perfect, safe older sister. Your Ale, who let you sleep in her bed after bad dreams, who double knotted your shoelaces in the morning, and carried your backpack to class. Who taught you how to kick a football, and that you could be anything you wanted. You looked at Alexia like she’d hung the stars and the moon, like she could do anything. 

That look used to make her feel like she could do anything, your belief in her something she could always count on. Now, the determination in Alexia’s eyes made you feel like you could do anything, just for a moment. You needed more than a moment, though.

—

If it wasn’t bad enough that you couldn’t play, couldn’t train, couldn’t even spend time in the gym without close supervision, you were seeing the specialist psychologist that the club had brought in every single day. The first few sessions didn’t heed much. It seemed she was trying to create a rapport with you, getting to know you before she tried to get you to bare your soul to her. 

It was after your fourth session with your therapist, Lucia, that she began to press you to talk about the issue at hand. And it was after your fourth session that you found yourself speed walking out of Lucia’s office, not watching where you were going, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

You were desperately hoping not to run into any of your teammates, as the facts of what was going on had been kept strictly between the captains and the coaching staff. Your teammates, however, would have had to be blind to not realize something was going on. All they’d been told was that you were out of training and matches for the time being. 

Maybe some of them would have asked more questions if not for the terrifying shadow that your sister had become. She walked you to Lucia’s office every day, tried her best to be waiting outside when you were done. Any time you spent with the team, normally just coming out to the pitch to say hello, Alexia hovered behind you, shooting anyone a death glare if they so much as looked like they were going to ask you something deeper than “how are you?” 

You half wondered if your Mami had put her up to this, because the last time you’d seen Alexia this protective was when you were 6, and you’d been getting teased at school. A few words from Eli to Alexia had your sister walking you to your classroom one morning, and making verbal threats to half the boys in the room. Alexia had been scary then, even as a teenager, and her actions had been more than effective. 

This behavior might just be all Alexia, although you knew she’d told Eli and Alba what’s been going on. You didn’t want them to know, and Alexia had hesitantly agreed not to tell them. Later, though, Olga had pulled you aside and said that it would probably be helpful to both you and Alexia to have other opinions involved, and for Alexia not to carry the stress of this all on her own. She had a point, there, and you’d given Ale the go ahead to inform your Mami and Alba. She’d done so, but aside from phone calls from each of them, they’d been respecting your space. 

Everyone, really, had been respecting your space. Aside from a new meal plan from the team’s nutritionists that you’d been trying your best to follow, no one had been forcing you to talk. 

Until today. 

Lucia had pushed you for the first time, and you’d tried your best to be open with her. It went against every instinct you had, though, and you could barely stick to a narrative with Lucia. For half the conversation, you’d admitted that there was a problem. For the other half, you’d denied it, until you were sure you’d contradicted yourself several times. 

She’d let you go 10 minutes early, probably because you were in tears and had gone pretty much silent on her; she must have decided she’d pushed you enough for the day. It was in this state, tears falling freely down your face, that you exited her office. You turned the corner towards the changing room, intending to grab your bag from your locker and see if Olga would come pick you up early, instead plowing directly into Mapi. 

“Woah! Where’s the fire?” She joked, grabbing your arms to steady you. Her smile fell, though, when she saw that you were crying. “Pequeña? You okay?” 

It was clear for anyone to see that you weren’t okay, but Mapi wasn’t quite sure how willing you’d be to talk to her, so she decided to give you an out in case you wanted to go find your sister instead. Mapi wasn’t expecting the broken sob that you let out, or the way that you shook your head, so easily admitting that something was wrong after so long of pretending the opposite to be true. 

“Do you want me to go get Ale?” The defender asked softly. 

Again, you shook your head. How could you explain that you were crying because of your sister to your sister. “N-no. She’s busy.” 

“She wouldn’t mind, nena, you know that.” 

That was entirely the problem. She was being too patient, too perfect, it was almost overwhelming. There was too much pressure on you to be perfect, too. A perfect recovery didn’t exist, but you felt like it had to. For Ale, for Lucia, for the club and the team. It felt like you were hurtling towards some unknown end, the pressure building everyday. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. 

“She’s dealing with enough of this. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself, but the wobbling of your voice gave you away. 

“Venga,” Mapi sighed, opening her arms for a hug. She half expected you to reject her, but was pleasantly surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped yourself tight around her. You were trembling, and she tightened her grip on you, wondering if she should ignore what you’d said and go get Alexia anyway. She didn’t want to betray your trust, though, and it seemed very obvious that you didn’t want to see your sister at the moment, so Mapi settled for some empty words she hoped were somewhat comforting.

“It’s all gonna be okay, pequeña. Whatever it is, you’re going to be okay.” 

“How do you know?” You mumbled, sniffling into the shoulder of her training top, half embarrassed and half too tired to even care.

Mapi rubbed your back slowly, thinking on her answer. She just… knew.

 “You don’t give up. You’re a determined person, and you can do anything you put your mind to. Whatever is going on isn’t any different. You’re strong enough for anything, nena.”

Pulling away, you wiped at your face, managing a weak smile for the defender. “Thanks María.” 

She smiled sadly back at you, as if she knew what she’d said hadn’t really helped. “Anything you need, I’m here, sí? We all are.” 

You nodded, thanking her again before you continued on your way to the locker room, hopefully where you’d be able to grab your stuff and get out of her before seeing anyone else. Especially Alexia. You got lost in your thoughts again rather quickly, barely able to focus when Olga answered her phone and told you to wait for her outside. You were too wrapped up in what Mapi had said. 

‘You’re a determined person.’ 

‘You’re strong enough.’

You didn’t feel strong. You didn’t even feel very determined. You felt weak, like it was only a matter of time before you cracked and let everyone down. And everyone would see just how weak you really were.

—

The house was too quiet when Alexia and Olga arrived home from dinner. No music playing, no mindless reality show on the TV. And you were nowhere to be seen. Alexia slid her shoes off, offering a hand out to steady Olga as the other woman removed her heels. 

“Something’s wrong.” Alexia murmured, looking up the stairs as if she could see through the walls into your room. She didn’t know what was wrong or what had happened, but she just knew something wasn’t okay. “I shouldn’t have left her.”

Olga shook her head, though, giving her girlfriend a sad smile. “You can’t always be with her, Ale. This is something she has to do herself sometimes.” 

The blonde frowned. “But what if…” 

“If she did, you tell her it’s okay. You tell her that relapsing is a part of getting better, and that you’re not upset with her.” Alexia nodded slowly, worrying her lip between her teeth. Olga grabbed her hand, squeezing once. “If she did, she probably just wants a hug, amor. She doesn’t want to hear that you feel guilt for leaving her to her own devices. She’s already going to feel like she broke your trust, and that would only make it worse.” 

For a second, Alexia just stared in wonder at her girlfriend. Because, of course, it all made sense when Olga explained it, but Alexia would never have considered things from that perspective. Before Olga even knew what was happening, Alexia was wrapping her in a tight hug, tucking the shorter woman’s head under her chin.

“Thank you. I would have messed this up so many times without you, and I’m so grateful that you’re here and you’re so willing to help.” 

Olga hugged her back with a matching ferocity, feeling a small smile grow on her face. Once, she’d expressed to Alexia that she felt the other woman wasn’t expressive enough. It was hard to know what the very tough captain was thinking, even harder to know what she was feeling. Since then, Alexia had made a concerted effort to speak her feelings aloud. It wouldn’t ever not make Olga smile to hear Alexia expressing her appreciation for her. “You don’t have to thank me.” 

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. I don’t want you to ever doubt how perfect you are.” Alexia replied sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to Olga’s cheek. 

It wasn’t the perfect date night that either of them had imagined, but it was still them, and that was enough. 

—

You really hadn’t meant to ruin Ale and Olga’s evening. When they’d left, you thought it would be nice to have some time to yourself. And it would have been, if you hadn’t tried to push yourself to eat dessert on top of an entire dinner. You’d managed a few bites before you began to spiral, and it had all gone downhill from there. 

Even still, you were hoping your sister and her girlfriend would slip into the house, say a brief goodnight, and not bother themselves with you. You certainly weren’t going to tell them what happened. Not today. It was your every intention to deal with your shame and embarrassment yourself in your room, which likely entailed crying into your pillow until you fell asleep. 

Alexia ruined your plans, though, with her magical ability to sense when something wasn’t right. It allowed her to sniff out one of Pina’s pranks before it happened, allowed her to turn around and squirt Mapi with water just as the defender was about to do the same to her. It was a gut feeling, and it was even stronger when it involved you. 

It wasn’t really magical. It was a lot of little things she picked up on. The little smirk Pina got before she pulled a prank. Mapi’s quiet giggling as she tried to sneak up on Ale. Now, it was the lack of noise in the house. The abandoned bowl of ice cream on the kitchen table, the light and fan left on in the downstairs bathroom. Your sister had known you all her life, and she knew what she’d find when she opened your bedroom door. Just like when you were little, and you’d sit at the foot of your bed when you’d gotten in trouble. Tears streaming down your little face, you’d turn away from Ale when she’d come after you, but she just had to wrap her arms around you, and you’d break. 

You’d never been able to deny yourself the comfort of an Alexia hug. 

Ale knocked softly before entering, finding you with your chin resting on your knees, wiping roughly at the tears falling down your face. 

“Hey, chiqui.” She said softly. 

“Hi.” You said, clearing your throat when your voice cracked. “How was your night?” 

Alexia ruffled your hair, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do, and took a seat next to you. “It was nice, dinner was good. We had fun.” 

“That’s good.” 

Alexia wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “You can tell me if something happened.” 

“Nothing happened.” You said firmly, though you leaned further into your sister, like she could protect you from something you’d done yourself. Something you’d done to yourself.  

“Pequeña,” 

“Nothing happened, Ale. Nothing.” 

How could you tell her? How could you tell her that you’d failed, that you’d messed up, that you’d deviated from the plan? She was going to be upset, you knew it. She expected perfection. She always had. This would be no different. Alexia wanted you to have a perfect recovery. 

As you continued to pretend nothing was wrong, Alexia felt a flash of frustration run through her. You still weren’t very willing to talk to her. Was she doing something wrong? Was she not not being patient enough or kind enough? What more could she do for you? What would it take for her to be enough? 

She looked at you again, though, at the way your lower lip was wobbling, and the tears in your eyes that you refused to let fall. You were barely hanging on to your strength, and Alexia wasn’t sure why you were so resistant to being vulnerable with her, but she knew she couldn’t stop trying. 

“Let me in. Please, you’re hurting, I can tell. Just talk to me.” She tried. When you stayed silent, she reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I just want to help, nena. Let me help.”

You couldn’t take the pleading tone of your sister’s voice anymore, and the words streamed out of you before you could stop them. 

“I’m sorry. I– It was all just too much, I didn’t have a choice, I had to,” You choked out, eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of you, even as your voice cracked and you started to cry. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ale.” 

“Nena, why are you sorry?” Alexia asked, pulling you into her. You sobbed, unrestrained, into her sweater for a few moments, leaning back to take a few gasping breaths as you tried to answer her. 

“I– I messed up,” you cried. “I broke your trust and–”

“No, cariño, don’t think of it like that.” Alexia interrupted, wiping a few tears off your cheek, though more replaced them quickly. 

“But it is like that! The minute you left I made myself–” You cut yourself off with a sharp shake of your head. 

“Tell me. Tell me what happened, and we can talk through it, yeah?” 

“You don’t want to hear.” 

“Yes I do. That’s why I asked. Walk me through what happened and we can make a plan for next time.” 

It was always about plans with your sister, but you weren’t in much of a state to argue with her.

“I– I ate dinner. And it was okay. It was better. I think it got too confident or I wasn’t thinking hard enough but I got myself some ice cream but I only had a few bites before I was thinking about all the calories in it and how I’d have to skip breakfast tomorrow to make up for it, and then I remembered I have breakfast plans with Alba and I would have to eat and so I knew I had to–... I went to–,” 

You couldn’t go on, crying too hard to get another word out. You covered your face with your hand, more than humiliated at your tears and what you were trying to tell your sister. It felt horribly private, and you didn't want to see the disgust and judgment on your sister’s face. You’d never given her this much detail before, and you were sure she didn’t want to hear this. 

If you’d just opened your eyes, though, you would have seen the opposite of what you were expecting. Alexia was near tears herself, simply from seeing the pain that you were in. You were normally so good at hiding it; even when Alexia knew something was wrong, she couldn’t truly see how much it affected you. Now, though, something in you had broken, and you were falling to pieces in front of her. 

She hadn’t seen you cry like this since you’d broken your ankle training with her a few years ago. All she’d been able to think to do while she waited for Eli to come pick you both up was pull you into her lap, though you were too big for it. 

And it was all she could think to do now, allowing you to tuck yourself into her and cry as hard as you needed to. She held you tightly, as if she could stabilize the world as it crumbled around you, her own tears falling freely now. 

“Alright, alright. It’s okay. It’s all okay, hermanita.” 

“It’s not.” You sobbed, bordering on hysterical now. “I le-let you down.” 

“No,” Alexia disagreed.  “No. You didn’t let me down. This is part of it, chiqui. Part of recovery is relapsing, and I will never ever be disappointed in you for that. I know this isn’t easy.”

You simply didn’t believe her. She had to be disappointed, so you had to keep trying to justify it. 

“I-I hate feeling like this.  I just needed to control something. I just needed to be in control.” 

“I get that. It must be really scary to give up control over what’s going in your body. Listening to the meal plans and eating what we tell you has to be so difficult.” 

And though it was what you’d wanted all week, to hear Alexia acknowledge how hard this was, it didn’t feel right. You were convinced she was just saying whatever she needed to to get you to stop crying, that she was disappointed, even if she wasn’t showing it. She shouldn’t have to push down her justified anger because you were a disaster, she should be mad at you. 

“No, Ale, stop.” You said, though you didn’t have the strength to push away from where your face was buried in the fabric of her sweater. “You’re disappointed, you want to yell. Just yell, please. It’ll make you feel better, and you won’t be mad at me anymore, so please. Just yell. I messed up. I deserve it.” 

Alexia was quiet for almost a full minute. It felt like a stab to the chest that you thought she had to yell in order to work through her feelings. That you were so convinced she was angry with you, disappointed in you. That you were willing to sit through a lecture because you felt so guilty for what you’d done. She hated it all; you weren’t to blame. You were doing your best. She could see that, everyone could see that, so why couldn’t you?

It was as if you thought of yourself as a bad person for having an eating disorder. As if every relapse, every action you’d taken in the haze of your illness, made you a bad person. Being sick didn’t make you bad, and your sister ached to make you see that. 

“Tell me something. After you make yourself throw up, what do you feel? What goes through your head?” 

The question felt like it came from nowhere, the confusion you felt putting a stop to your tears. Instead, you breathed deeply for a minute, thinking. Hearing her say it made your stomach drop. You didn’t like to name it in your head. It was just… something you did, and if it remained unnamed, it wouldn’t matter. 

But it did matter, and even though she was supposed to be mad, Alexia was rubbing your back like you mattered, and it was all so confusing that you just found yourself answering. 

“Awful. Ashamed and embarrassed and disgusted. Guilty. I hate myself after I do it. It feels like the world is ending because I have to start over, like all the progress I’ve made was for nothing.”

“Does it make you feel like a bad person?” 

At this, you jolted away from Alexia, staring at her with wide eyes. What was the right answer? What did she want to hear?

“I guess. I… I know I’m doing something wrong, something I shouldn’t be doing. I know I’m hurting my body and I know I’m hurting the team and my career. I’m doing something wrong and that makes me feel like I’m bad.” You admitted. Completely unsure where that confession had come from, you stared at your sister as you waited for her reply, as if you were shocked by your statement. She didn’t seem to be. 

“It is wrong because it is unhealthy. It is wrong because you are hurting yourself. But… doing something ‘wrong’ doesn’t make you bad. You aren’t a bad person for being sick, you aren’t a bad person for relapsing. You’re doing your best, nena. You are trying. And even if you weren’t, that wouldn’t make you bad.” 

You didn’t fully believe her, and Alexia could tell. This wasn’t something she could fix with a few words, though, and she knew that. Tomorrow, she’d make sure you talked to Lucia about this, but for now, she was content knowing that you weren’t crying anymore, and you looked significantly less distressed. 

“You’re really not mad? Or disappointed?” 

Alexia swallowed the lump in her throat at your question. “I’m really not. I’ve done my research, I’ve talked to your doctor, I knew to expect this, nena. It’s okay, it’s part of getting better. It can’t all be perfect, it won’t all be perfect. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to try, and I’ll be proud of you. I am proud of you.” 

You wondered how Alexia had gone from a disaster that could barely put a sentence together without saying the wrong thing to this; saying exactly what you needed to hear from her and more. Likely, it was a combination of Olga, the research you know she’d stayed up late doing, and sheer determination to help you the best she could. 

“I know this is hard in a lot of ways,” Alexia continued. “But you can talk to me. Always. Without worrying that I’ll be mad or upset. I promise you, pequeña, you can tell me anything. I’m here to help you.” 

“I just hate talking about this.” You admitted. “I don’t like being vulnerable.” 

“I know you don’t. You never have.” Alexia chuckled, thinking about how Eli used to have a jar set on the kitchen counter called the feeling’s jar. If you were upset about something, you were supposed to tell your Mami or your sisters about it, but that almost never happened. Instead, Eli gave you the option to write the feeling down and put it in the jar for someone to read later, when you weren’t in the room. It was the best any of them could do to understand what was going through your head, even as a child. “Would it make it better if I was vulnerable too? If I talk about something hard with you?” 

You laughed, thinking she was joking, but when you glanced at her, she was completely serious, earnestly staring at you. 

“Maybe.” You said suspiciously, highly doubtful that Alexia was about to tell you anything that really mattered to her. If you were stubborn about your feelings, it was because Ale was too. 

Alexia just nodded, almost solemnly, fixing her attention on the ceiling above you both before she began speaking. “This season… this season has been harder. It’s always been hard switching off from football and taking a break when I need to, but it’s like… I have all this stuff outside of football that deserves my attention too. And it’s even harder now.” 

“Other stuff… being Olga?”

Your sister nodded, blushing just slightly. “I need to spend less time doing extra training and watching film and obsessing over strategies.  I just… I can’t. I can’t do it. I have to train every day. I have to do the most that I can.” 

“Or what?”

“Or… I don’t know. I’d feel bad. I’d fail the team. But if I don’t find a better balance…” Alexia paused, taking a deep breath. You could have cried, again, from how much you appreciated her in that moment. Telling you things you knew she struggled to share, so you’d feel less alone. “Olga is always on me about self care, and I’m worried I’ll lose her if I don’t figure out how to take breaks and leave football behind when I come home, at least a little. And I really, really don’t want to lose her.” 

You thought hard, knowing that Alexia deserved the absolute best advice you could give her, even if she wasn’t explicitly asking for it. 

“I don’t think you’re going to lose her, Ale. But I think she deserves better than being second best to your job until you retire. It’s like you said, you need a balance. Sometimes, football is going to come first. That’s just part of the job. But you also have to make sure she comes first too, sometimes. Even if you have to do something that makes you uncomfortable, like miss an extra training session or not watch all the available film you can get your hands on.” 

By the time you stopped talking and looked at your sister, she looked almost stunned, as though she wasn’t expecting you to have anything very helpful to say. 

“When did you get good at giving relationship advice?” She asked. “The last time I asked you for advice like this you told me to spray paint I love you on Jenni’s car as an apology.” 

You laughed. “That was like… 10 years ago, Ale. I’ve grown up.” 

“You really have.” Your sister got a rather pensive look on her face, as if she was just seeing for the first time that you were no longer a little kid. In effort to avoid any further sappiness, you voiced the idea that had popped into your head a few minutes ago. 

“Didn’t Olga say she doesn’t have much work to do tomorrow? You should take her to lunch.” 

“We have training.” Alexia said automatically.

You rolled your eyes. “I know. Skip. It’s a gym session and film that you’ve probably already watched. Skip it and take your girlfriend out. No one will care.” 

It was clear that the idea made Alexia uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. Her posture had become stiff and her hands were clenched almost as tightly as her jaw was. 

 But she thought about the last time she’d done something spontaneous for Olga, and the way the brunette's face had lit up. It had just been flowers picked up on the way home from training, but it had clearly meant a lot to her. Alexia wanted to see that look on Olga’s face again. Soon. 

“Okay.” She agreed hesitantly. “How do I skip? Is it like school? Should I lie and say I’m sick?” 

You laughed again, but Alexia joined in this time. “No, tonta. Just say you have a personal commitment. It’s not like anyone is going to ask questions.” 

“Mmm. Well, you’re coming with us.” 

You looked at her like she was stupid. “No I’m not. That would ruin the romantic date with your girlfriend.” 

Alexia frowned, trying to think of a way she could make you a part of this too. A way she could make you want to try because she was trying. “Fine, but I’m bringing you back lunch, okay?” 

Suddenly, you looked just as uncomfortable as your sister had, but you agreed nonetheless. You couldn’t not try if Alexia was trying. And you both knew that what you had to do was harder than what she had to do. It wasn’t really about that, though. It was about your sister understanding how difficult this process was, and telling you that you didn’t have to be perfect, just like she wasn’t. 

Recovery wasn’t perfect. Existing wasn’t perfect. It was about trying. It was about knowing there needed to be a change, and doing your best to make one. 

Trying your best didn’t have to be perfect, or without fault. Alexia almost threw herself into a panic attack the next day when she remembered she was missing a captains meeting, but Olga had calmed her down and Irene had promised to send her copious notes. 

The look on Olga’s face had made it all feel worth it when Alexia had asked her of the plan you’d come up with. 

“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?” Alexia had asked casually, as her and Olga stood side by side at the stove, cooking dinner. 

“After training?” Olga had wondered, confused. 

“No. No training tomorrow, I’m taking the day off.” 

It was very worth it when Olga practically dropped the wooden spoon she was holding and launched herself at Alexia, wrapping the taller woman in a tight hug. It was so, so worth it when Olga whispered a soft I’m proud of you in Alexia’s ear. 

It wasn’t easy when you tried to eat lunch the next day. It wasn’t easy when you were done, and when you cried into your sister’s shoulder, when all you wanted to do was get rid of it. 

But it was worth it later, when Alexia told you how proud she was of you, and you knew she meant it. You believed her. The next day, when Lucia told you she thought you were making good progress. Every step forward wasn’t without some faltering, but you moved forward anyway.

You moved through recovery. Forwards and backwards. Mostly forwards. Returning to training, to matches, to doing what you loved. To feeling like yourself again. 

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect, but change was worth it. Getting better was worth it. 

—

didn't plan on finishing this and getting it out tonight but it was flowing really well and i... think... i'm... happy... with.... it??? anyway! thanks for reading <3

[roanniom]

Sleepy grinding with Eddie. 🥺

It's either late at night or really early in the morning as he and you are fumbling around to find each other and embrace... only for you to wrap your legs against him and begin to grind on his crotch... and him following...

I find that really cute and hot agakalaldkd 🙈

Ok but hear me out.

Early Hours

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, dry humping, thigh fucking, previously discussed and therefore consensual somno. DO NOT READ if somno bothers you, I am not responsible for you disliking this kind of thing

You wake up in the wee hours of the morning to Eddie further on his side of the bed, leaving you cold and lonely. You won’t stand for that, of course, so you scootch over to where he lays on his back and curl yourself around his side, one leg thrown over his, leaving your pelvis flush with his hip.

Satisfied and snuggly, you try to fall back asleep, but a warmth settles in the pit of your stomach when Eddie grunts lightly in his sleep. Before you even realize you’re doing it, you begin grinding into him, feeling delicious friction on your clit through your panties. As the pleasure builds within you, your half asleep brain tries to tell you not to do this, but the rest of your mind is tuned out. Too focused on seeking the reward at the end of the rutting.

Eddie wakes up when your limbs tighten suddenly around him, your hips convulsing and grinding against the side of his till suddenly they still, a whimper escaping your throat. Your arms and legs go limp then, boneless in the wake of your orgasm, and tiny breaths pant from your lips to his ear.

Eddie’s sleep fogged mind can’t even fully comprehend what just happened, but his dick sure can. It becomes fully rigid in no time, tenting his boxers and the sheets as you turn away and nestle into your pillow, humming in sleepy contentment.

Just as you had, Eddie’s body rolls toward you, seeking your warmth like a magnet. He spoons you, erection pushing between the fat of your thighs to rest against the damp gusset of your panties, your hot folds spreading around him beyond the fabric. Your panties are wet, and if his mind was fully awake it would be more proof of what had just transpired.

Without any thought, Eddie’s hips begin rolling. Slow. Methodical. The friction is so sweet it aches, and your legs squeeze together as your body reacts to the stimulation.

After a particularly definitive grind forward, Eddie rouses himself and you with a deep throated moan.

“Mmmm Eds,” you slur on an inhale. As your brain orients, your tensed body melts back into him, a hum of contentment vibrating through you to him. His cock rocks against your clit with each forward motion and you can feel the fresh tension building up in you core. “Feels nice.”

“Morning,” Eddie mutters, kissing your shoulder lightly.

There’s way too many layers between you for any of this grinding to be efficient, but something about the stickiness seeping through the different fabrics, and the needy escalations of Eddie’s thrusts, magnifies the already pleasant friction. You grip at his forearms where he’s got you cages against him and begin rolling your hips to meet his.

What began as light, huffing exhales of exertion become grunts similar to the one that got you going in the first place. You remember it suddenly - the way you had humped his hip and cum against him, half asleep such a short time ago. Your pussy flutters, trying to hold onto the covered length that rubs perpendicular to where you need it most.

“Eddie,” you whine into the darkness. The sound does something primal to him, and something closer to a growl issues from his lips, making you whimper even more.

“Baby,” he says back into your skin.

"Wanna cum," you whisper pathetically. Eddie's teeth sink lightly into your shoulder at that his encircling grip tightening and his hips snapping faster. The acceleration of movement and pressure gets you exactly where you want to be and you grind down on his cock where it pushes between your legs.

There's little else to do but convulse in his arms, exactly as his hips stutter and a shuddering gasp erupts from his throat.

"Eddie..." you moan out his name, elongating the last syllable as the pleasure floods your body. A warm wetness floods the space between you, a sticky evidence of your successful humping.

"Mmmm fuck," Eddie hums against you, gathering you somehow even tighter in his arms. You hiss at the feeling of your combined, clothed slickness, finally coming down from the high. After a moment, your wriggle in his grasp.

"Gotta get up," you giggle as Eddie shushes you and tries to keep you against the mattress. Eddie shakes his head, eyes tightly closed.

"No, it's still too fucking early."

"Shoulda thought about that before you came all over me," you tease, finally succeeding in rolling over and a bit away from him. Eddie squints an eye open and smirks at you.

"Pretty sure you came all over me first, princess. Or does that not count since I was asleep?"

Your jaw drops and you feel embarrassment heat your whole body. Eddie rolls over to you and grabs your face before you can begin to feel too uncomfortable, pulling you to him for a deep kiss.

"Maybe I'll wake up first tomorrow morning, yeah?" he asks, giving you a wink when he pulls away.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed, please let me know!!

[jacesbeloved]

for the kingdom: part v

summary: being the youngest daughter of alicent, you hadn’t known what it was like to feel restraint until you had been betrothed to the eldest son of queen rhaenyra for a pact. for who? for the kingdom.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

warnings: explicit content, cunnilingus, dirty thoughts in a church, porn with (little) plot, dirty talk, slightly public sex, overstimulation | if you liked this, pls do leave a heart or comment, it’d be greatly appreciated ^w^

part: I, II, III, IV, V

ftk taglist: @kentarosbaby @lady-ashfade @simrah1012 @mfrnchsk @sexualityisajoke @elsyyie @instabul l @ephemeralninon @chrisevansgirlfriendsposts @mainstreambitchlife @alexandra-001 @writer-lee5 @nightly-polaris @m4nd0l0r @roroswitherose @how2besalty @eds-gryff f @icantpickausername @solacestyles @blue1006 @highexpectationsgurl @doe-inluv @kitkat-writes-stuff @alex4040 @cl-0-vr @frogoerson @neo-weareone @theamuz @illainebedeakin @littletargaryens-blog @ietss @ttae-yong @daevinvan333

Alyrie Florent.

Alerie Hightower.

Viserys Targaryen.

"Mother," Alicent jumps at the sudden call. Her eyebrows confusedly joining together as she stares at you, rugged and breathless.

Clearly, you had not remembered of your commitment to come with your mother to the Sept at early morrow.

She stares at you from top to bottom before you invite yourself to the place beside her, kneeling and clasping your hands together as she had always told you to do once you arrive at the Sept.

"My goodness, daughter, it is only early morrow... why do you look like that?"

You run a hand through your hair, your chest heaving up and down as you close your eyes. "Look like what?" You ask although you could not really care for an answer.

"Nothing. Pray for your father." Thank the gods you thought.

The run from the inn inside the Streets of Silk was far from the Sept. Not to mention, the hundreds of steps that you had to walk up both in the Red Keep to get dressed and to the Sept itself.

As you finally feel the silence around you, visions of last night cannot be stopped as it runs through your mind again.

"I expected more from you, princess," the teasing tone of Jacaerys' voice hits just the right buttons. His hips hitting your pelvis in slow, hard strokes that has you seeing stars by the minute. The moment his cock entered your cunt, you knew it was over for you.

"Just fuck me, Jace," you say in between moans. Your hands going up your head and into your hair as you desperately pull at it. You hear a deep chuckle come from him as his hands hook your legs around his waist, snaking his arm across your chest and to the back of your neck before his pace quickens.

You scream his name, the sound entering his ears like one of the greatest songs ever sung by poets. That pushes him further. His lips latching onto one of your perked nipples before his warm tongue lovingly laps circles around it. You put one hand on his head, messing up his hair as your sanity decreases by the⎯

"Daughter, did you hear what I said?" The images in your head disappear and you are faced with a furious look from Alicent. Sighing discreetly, you look back at her, giving back the same look. "I didn't catch you clearly."

She shakes her head disapprovingly, "Your uncle, Uncle Gwayne, might return. However, I do not know when exactly he'll come back."

For such a meaningless sentence, you hum and simply throw her a question as you exhale loudly. Feeling your body slowly heat up again. "Really? Why is he bothering to come back?"

Once you heard your mother's continuous flow of words in answer to your question, you peacefully close your eyes again. Hoping to all of the gods that it would keep your mother at bay. You gulp nothing but saliva down your dry throat, feeling all of the tingles and touches you felt last night.

"That's it... Keep your eyes on me, princess. You're doing so good," Jace's eyes lazily look up at you, a grin etched on his lips as you bounce up and down his length. This new position hitting places you never thought one could reach.

Your thighs were burning. You feel the pain in your hips going stronger but the pleasure overpowers it by a league. You wished the two of you could have stayed like earlier where he was the only one moving but after he makes you release in that position, he kisses you messily then pulls you off of the cushion.

His big hands hold the sides of your hips, helping you bounce, even thrusting up on his own every now and then to catch you off-guard. Your eyes close for your own sake as you feel another release close by. Jace watches you with amusement in his eyes as your hips begin grinding on his length, no longer bouncing like you used to, chasing after your release.

So close. Your eyes close shut even firmer. You can taste it⎯

A hand breaks your thoughts again. On the brink of sanity now as the hand belonged to your sister, Helaena, who shows you a caterpillar that she sets on the concrete ground before kneeling beside you.

Gods, you are cruel. You say in your mind. Letting your face do the talking while Helaena opens up about her insects.

"It looks nice." Alicent smiles. You have to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes as both your mother and your sister converse with each other while you kneel there in the middle. When you close your eyes, Alicent speaks again. "You two must bear the Hightower name."

What is this woman talking about? The thoughts in your head are all over the place. Helaena being too pre-occupied in watching her caterpillar to even bother reply to your mother.

"You married me off to a Targaryen, remember?" You say in a low voice. Clasping your hands together.

Alicent puts a hand on your shoulder and bicep, "It was for the better. Besides, it would have been Jacaerys, Queen Rhaenyra's eldest, or Lucerys. Would've you rather rule over the seas than the seven kingdoms?"

"I agree with you wholeheartedly, mother, now please let me pray in peace."

You peek at her by opening just a small portion of your eye, your mother shaking her head once more before she closes her own eyes. Pressing her hand to her forehead as she too, probably, prayed.

Jace's arms instinctively pull you closer. Wrapping his arm around your waist as he pounded inside of you from over edge of the bed. He's only came once while you couldn't even count how many times your legs shook at his expense.

"How does that feel?" Jace asks in your ear, feeling his hand snake through your stomach and down the apex of your thighs where his fingers skillfully rub against your cunt. The contact making you dive further into the mattress if not for the his arm holding you up by your waist. "Does it feel good? Are you pleased, princess?"

No words leave your mouth, only moans and whimpers as his thrusts got deeper. Each thrust into your delicious cunt making him feel delirious. After delaying his own release numerous times, his release was approaching him now just like a wave.

"Don't stop, Jace, fuck," you grit, gripping the sheets as another orgasm awaits.

Continuous groans and grunts leave his mouth. The veins in his neck just as angry as the ones that line his cock. His hands rush to pull your upper body up, placing his hand flat against your neck as your back is now flush against his chest. His other hand stimulating your clit. Every part of your body was on fire and he knows it.

His hand around your neck tightens ever so slightly and you feel your vision turn white. Everything becoming too much. "I'm close. Fuck, I'm coming again, Jace," you cry out.

"It's okay, princess," he grunts, feeling his own release come about as your legs shake, cunt tightening around his cock with a scream escaping your lips. His lips ghosting all across your ear and the side of your neck as rubs soothing circles on your belly. "I got you."

"Y/N, are you okay?" The question from Helaena makes you jolt. Sweat beading on your forehead as you rush to stand up. Both Alicent and Helaena looking at you with great concern. Your face was pale and your clothes had numerous wet spots because of the sweat.

You laugh uncomfortably, "I am. Are we going now?"

"You're the only one we're waiting on." Alicent tells you with a nod, turning around and walking away.

Brushing the feeling of last night off, you hurriedly follow your mother and sister out of the Sept and into a carriage back to the Red Keep.

Before the council meeting later in the day, you have a good amount of time to rest in your own shared chambers with your husband.

He hasn't arrived yet so you use the time to take back some strength after tiring yourself out last night. It may be the low-end cushion that you laid yourself on last night but your bed now has never been comfier. You were tossing and turning all around it while hugging your pillows.

Your handmaidens had their own affairs to deal with, thankfully, it meant no random hair braiding and no anything that would disrupt your peace in your haven.

That is if your brother only bothered to take the locked door as an answer.

"Does my door being locked mean nothing?" You ask at Aemond, having to walk back to your bed after opening your door for him. His return meant the others have just came back as well, it was only a matter of time now before Jace comes to both of your rooms and your peace is disrupted.

Aemond takes a seat near the fireplace. "You sneaked out last night, didn't you?"

Your brother knowing wasn't too surprising for you. He knew of all things, even things he shouldn't know in the first place. So when he asks, you answer with honesty.

"Are you telling Mother?"

Your brother hums, shrugging subtly as he inspects the things you had on the table. Random stacks of books and golden chalices filled with water. Jewelries of various design scattered all over.

"Alicent scolding you does give me some pleasure," Aemond says but you know he's just being an asshole. "It does not give me any use though."

You sigh. Dramatically falling on the soft cushion of your bed as you speak again. "Then tell me what I have done to warrant this astonishing visit from you, Aemond."

A thought hits and you jolt, "You're betrothed?" The scowl on his face says otherwise. "Found a girl?" "Aegon's dead?" You exclaim in a theatrical manner.

Aemond snickers, "Have you seen Otto?" The sudden question goes past your mind as you ask him about the mission last night.

"It was just me and Cole working. Our brother and Jace were as useful as a dragon without wings," Aemond shakes his head, standing up from his chair and exploring the room. The constant walking around bugged your senses.

You glare at your brother's remark. "Honestly, brother, shouldn't you be reporting to the Queen about what happened to the mission?"

"Shouldn't you be welcoming your husband with open arms outside?" Aemond retorts before he holds up a finger, "Oh, apologies, you already welcomed him with open legs last night."

"You should visit a brothel, brother. Or talk to Cole if you are truly irritated with the world," you throw him over an old mirror compact that you had on your nightstand, your brother catching it perfectly before settling it down on a random surface.

Your door opens and just in time, Jace enters. He looks surprised seeing Aemond first thing inside of your room.

Gazing at him, he had his usual clothes back on and not the cream-colored shirts and pants. His hair was in a different way disheveled, there were some strands that look naturally curled compared to how his hair used to look like the first night when you two married.

Aemond glances at him before he turns to you. With a nod, he leaves your room in silence.

"What's your brother doing here?" Jace asks as the door closes. Opening his closet and placing his clothes inside.

"I don't know either," you shrug indifferently. Lying back down on your bed as you watch him move around. The curls on his head bringing back a certain person that you met only once or twice before.

Jace notices you staring at his hair and so he speaks, "It is better not to comment unless you want to be deemed treasonous, my dear wife." The grin on your lips telling him everything he needs to know about what was in your head.

A meeting was called into the council room. Something about an update regarding the recent mission that finished last night⎯or so you thought.

"Where were you?" Your curious eyes go over Otto's figure. He definitely looks surprised when you stop him before he enters the council room. Your grandfather's presence giving you an unsettling feeling as he comes from one of the farther connecting hallways within the keep.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "If it pleases you, I came from Maegor's Holdfast." The way he says it has a condescending tone that you would rather not point out.

You nod quietly, going inside the small council that was now full of people.

Rhaenyra's way of ruling always boggled you. She is Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and yet her small council is crowded. Not only are the seven mandatory positions already here but, Rhaenyra's children were there, Baela and Rhaena Targaryen were there, you and Aemond were even there despite not having any official position in it.

"I want everyone to feel included," as Rhaenyra said on the week that she was able to compose her own small council.

As you walk through the room, your eyes immediately lock with Jace's. It was clear that he had just finished bathing, as evidenced by the wetness of his hair, curls bouncier and more evident than before. It would be a crime for you to say it was not refreshing seeing a new hairstyle on him.

"Dearest wife," Jace nods at you with a small smile.

Contrary to his greeting, you sneer lowly, "Husband."

You take a stone ball from the middle, occupying the vacant seat beside your husband as the council chamber quiets down. The queen nodding at her other council members before she starts.

The meeting at the council went smoothly. Majority of Rhaenyra's council members did their job exceptionally well. Food was not scarce, problems were given solutions, and houses were given adequate attention in terms of their worries.

Whilst the Queen went on about the operations within the city, an occasional share of ideas from you and your mother, you could feel your husband's stare boring into you every time you look away to stare at Her Grace.

He figured that was not enough. His fingers brushing past your hand like a sin. So discreet, so subtle underneath the table as if you two did not consummate your marriage the night before.

You feel his hand creeping on yours again, this time you feel the warmth of it stay a little long before he withdraws it fast. "Jace? Aemond? How did the task go?"

Jace clears his throat, gesturing at Aemond who seemed to already have an answer to the Queen's question.

Aemond starts, "The task cannot be said as a success, your grace. It is clear from last night that more men must be employed in the field, not just Prince Jacaerys...nor Prince Aegon," he raises an eyebrow at your direction. Giving him back the same look before he clicks his tongue and turns back to Rhaenyra.

"I believe the perpetrator has someone inside of the Red Keep, as well as outside, where they hide their other men. They cannot hide this long if not for said allies." Aemond pulls off of the stone table and rests on the chair.

"What do you propose we do?"

This time, it's Aemond that gestures at Jace. "We need to set out more guards on patrol. Not just guards wearing their uniform but guards that are civilians. If these perpetrators do have men inside of King's Landing, we can only know if we live within King's Landing and see its every day operations without raising any suspicions."

People around the table nod, some even proposing additional ideas to it but Rhaenyra seemed to be well pleased with what her son and your brother suggested earlier.

"Your Grace, I fear this has not reached you yet but the mercenary that Prince Jacaerys and my granddaughter bought here is allegedly from the North."

Your head turns, "He's not."

All of the attention zones on you at the sudden interjection. "The man is from Essos. He has burns on his wrist to his arm. There's a group of people within Essos that have those."

"And how would you know that? You have not travelled to Essos nor have you seen this prisoner face-to-face," Otto says with another rather condescending tone. It was clear from the look on his face that he was undermining the information you're giving.

Your jaw clenches. Scoffing in disbelief at your grandfather's statement. "I would know that because I was the one attacked, as you should have known," you put your elbow on the table. "You do know that, right? Jacaerys was not the only one attacked—Hells, it was me that was attacked not him. I killed him."

"That is not something to be proud of," Alicent whispers from beside you.

"Let her be," says Aemond with a bored tone.

Otto does not say any more as an uncomfortable silence settles around the small council. Rhaenyra, sensing this unsettling atmosphere, clarifies the situation before her orders are officially given out.

Jace glances at you as a check up after the cross between you and your grandfather. He was nibbling on his lips as you two lock eyes once more.

"Am I the one speaking?" You question him rhetorically, rolling your eyes at him as you lean on your chair and listen to the politics between them one more.

The thought that you would soon be in a higher place than you are now—clearly not in Rhaenyra's place as the ruler of the iron throne—but still in a high position as the queen consort, having to listen through all of this talk and plans and politics, then plan treaties and feasts together with the other houses, it suffocated you.

Your husband knows that too but, he says no more.

Years of your life was spent within the four wall of your own room. Now, you stand outside of it as numerous servants usher in and out of it while holding different furniture.

You did not want to dwell on the thought of your own space being changed now that your mother's going to occupy your previous room before the marriage but, it stood right across the door from the library—a reason on why you loved your room as well—you cannot just ignore it.

With a deep sigh, you turn around, going inside of the library only to find it empty.

The gods may have hated you enough to take you away from the room you call home, but they do have some conscience to let you have the library all on your own.

Studying was never your forte, reading was. Folklores, history, stories of the maesters, you loved reading about them all.

"I figured you would be here," a voice speaks from the reading area. You were in between the bookshelves, looking for another book to read along with the five that you already have stacked on your hand. "No one loves the library as you do."

"I'm occupied, fortunately, you can go back to our chambers, my beloved husband," you huff, pulling out another book from the shelves before you head out to the open area for reading only to see Jace holding a stack of books himself.

You fake a gasp as you point at him, "I didn't know you can read."

He ignores your attempt to ridicule him and instead places his stacks of books beside yours. You raise an eyebrow at him and he already feels another joke coming up. "I knew you couldn't read! Do you want me to read them then summarize 'em for you, my dear husband?"

"I had this delivered from the Citadel's Library. I figured my beloved wife could use more books to read to...broaden her horizons." Jace crosses his arms, hip leaning on your table.

"I din't take bribery, Jace. What do you need?"

The prince's forehead creases in disbelief, "Are we not allowed to give gifts now?"

"You're awfully suspicious," you reply back fast, standing up from your seat and going back to the stacks of bookshelves.

Jace doesn't reply, instead, he watches you look for books again. He swears he could feel his life span decreasing each time you act like that—like how? He doesn't know as well. The poor man massages his temples as he grabs the book at the uppermost stack from those he bought before walking over to you.

"Your servants have told me that you have almost finished all of the books in the library so I sent a raven to ask for more books. You are free to read them as they are yours and I will make sure the books in our chambers are sorted out as well, if that's okay."

You tap your fingers over the spines of the books, Jace slipping the one he held in his hands at the end so you go past it as well.

"And why would you do all that, husband?" You ask, staring into his eyes as you stand in front of him.

Jace keeps his cool, clasping his hands together, "You said it yourself. I am your husband. It is my duty to keep you entertained."

"Oh but there's a lot of different ways to keep me entertained," you say with a sly smile, the rising ends of your lips making his breath hitch. His mouth falls open but no words leave it, his eyes, however, darken.

The prince replies back, "I'm sure I know a way or two to keep you entertained."

You grin, thinking he's not getting the signal and so you run a hand through his curly hair. "That hair suits you... but I think I know how your hair could look better."

"And how's that?"

"In between my thighs."

Jace scoffs, looking through the cracks behind the bookshelves go check if anyone sneaked in. When he sees no one, he does the first contact as he backs you slowly into the other side of the wall.

The two of you no farther than an inch away from each other as he places his hands on your sides with much care. Pressing his lips on yours before you feel the sides of your dress be bunched up by him.

You willfully open your mouth to him, letting him explore it with his tongue as you did his. Sucking on the wet muscle while you tangle your arms around his neck like a second nature. You could feel his lips stretching into a smile when he starts to pull away.

The dashing smile on his lips seemed to have put you under a spell as you nod eagerly when he nods first. Jace keeping his eyes on yours as he went on his knees in a hurry. He bunches up your skirt, your urgent hands grabbing a hold of said skirt so his hands would be free to—

"Jace!" You hiss, getting caught off-guard when he pushes himself in between your legs. Gripping your thighs tightly as you start to feel his hot breath right where you need him the most. Praise all of the gods for letting you wear a kirtle because it made everything all the more easier. Your legs nearly give out when you feel him lick a stripe up your slit. Mouth falling open in pure ecstasy. It's only been a day since he last touched you but it felt like a year. His mouth laps at you like a starved man. Nose poking at your bud which made everything much more pleasureful. Your hands naturally find solace in his hair, pulling and tugging on it until groans vibrate through your core. He nips at your cunt, the contact of his teeth to the sensitive bud making you yelp.  It doesn't take long for him to have you screaming quivering in his grasp. His name spilling out of your mouth like a prayer. You tasted so good, the prince feeling addicted to your taste as he can't even stop himself from fucking his tongue in and out of your hole.  "Seven hells, it feels so fucking good, Jacaerys," you mewl, shamelessly grinding your hips on his mouth. His curls scattered all over your hands as you slowly feel that release coming up.  He abruptly inserts two fingers inside as he pulls away, chin glistening with your release. You nearly come at the erotic look on his face. His lips crashes with yours again, silencing your moans while you taste yourself on his tongue. His fingers thrusting in and out of you in a quick motion.  "I'll make you feel so much better later, I just need to fuck you now," his voice is strained. Desperately untying his trousers. You were so caught up in your own pleasure that you didn't notice his shaft poking against his trousers so when he finally undoes them, you pull it down in one swift motion. The sight of his erect cock making your mouth water. Jace puts one of your legs up to his hips, whispering, "Jump," as you do so enthusiastically. Your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as both of your legs hook around his waist. You pull him into another hungry kiss, Jace navigating the two of you until he finds a counter. He pushes everything off of it and places you gently on it, the sounds of books and metal hardware falling onto the carpeted floor. He didn't care, nor did you.  "I need it so bad, Jace," you whimper, pulling away to look down your middle. The sight of your husband holding his cock as he runs it up and down your slit making you roll your eyes way back as your head falls back. You were biting your lips to try and stop more of your sounds from coming out.  He thrusts in one swift motion, the blunt head of his cock hitting the sweet spot of yours that he seems to have memorized already. The two of you moaning loudly in unison.  Jace wastes no time in fucking you. His pelvis snapping aggressively into yours as your legs desperately try to pull him closer. "I'm so close, Y/N," he grunts, putting more force into his thrusts as he chases after his own orgasm.  Your cunt clenches greedily on his cock. The sensation making Jace bite his lips to stop himself from spilling before you do. He drops a hand to your clit, instantly getting a reaction from you. Your back arching off of the table as you scream about the pleasure. One, two⎯a few more strokes to your spot and you almost⎯ "Can I have a word with my sister once you two are done?" You thought it was only your mind making up scenarios but it wasn't. Another knock sounding, "Oh, and keep it down. Halaena is trying to put Jaehaerys to sleep." 

[taintedcigs]

✦ SHOTGUN | eddie munson x reader ✦

wc: 2.2k+

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

warnings: 18+ !!smut, smut smut!!, MINORS DNI!! dr*g use obv, reader and eddie are both high, so high s*x! kinda dom!eddie but mostly v soft!dom!eddie, praising!! nicknames (doll, sweets, peach, baby, etc.) just prn without plot literally all i can explain, p in v, creampie, kinda breeding kink, unprotected s*x, JUST OVERALL FILTH MINORS DNI OR I WILL BITE U!!!

summary: smoking with eddie leads into something more.

authors note: omg i feel like i haven't posted smut in forever so i wrote this when i was high bc i was horny and i felt like it... this is proofread but i only read it once and i was fried so pls ignore any mistakes !!

eddie loved the days like this when the two of you were just lazily laying around together.

just a joint in his mouth as you laid in his lap, telling him how your day was as eddie listened to your words intently.

your mind was wobbly which each hit you took, so you were mostly mumbling about nothing now.

eddie lazily places his lips on the joint, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth, 'c'mere.' his voice is timid but he catches your attention as you immediately look up at him.

and he is grinning like an idiot as he presses his lips to yours, opening his mouth so you can suck the smoke in, your mind fuzzy.

'moreee.' you whine again, and eddie blows another smoke, his lips pressed against yours as you inhale it, giggling.

'i love you.' he presses another kiss to your lips, 'love ya too, baby.' you murmur into his lips.

'you're s'handsome.' you say giggly, cooning your head on his shoulders, and you press slow kisses into his neck, 'and i need you, eds.' you murmur desperately into his neck and he's more than ready to take you as he groans at your words.

‘my needy lil baby.’ he hums, placing lazy needy kisses all over your face.

'what d'you need, peach?' he asks, his eyes darken with your words, 'need you...' your tone is needy and filled with desire.

he tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to tell him exactly what you need, 'need you to fuck me, eddie.' your voice is so alluring and he's so hooked.

he doesn't waste time as his hands make their way down to your panties and he circles around them, causing you to whine.

and without hesitation, his hands dip down your panties and he groans at your warmness.

's'fuckin' warm for me, sweets.' his fingers are slow as they work their way in and out of you, and you whimper lowly, your head thrown back.

'inside a'me.' you murmur and eddie chuckles. 'please.' your thighs are shaking and you sound desperate, so desperate that eddie realizes how much you need him.

'f-fuck, already s'fucked out with just my touch, baby?' he teases, and you nod immediately, he grips your chin harshly as you look down at him doe-eyed.

he takes another inhale from your shared joint, and squishes your cheek, causing your mouth to open slightly as he presses his lips to yours and exhales the smoke inside of your mouth again, you suck it in pretty quickly and your mind is cloudy again, you need him, more than ever.

'p-please, eds.' you whimper, pleading. and eddie's cock is straining against his thin boxers, your slight movements causing him to twitch further.

'you're drivin' me crazy here, peach.' he groans into your neck, his hands still working their way to your clit, pinching it slightly.

without a care in the world, he stomps the almost finished joint on the ashtray with his other hand, his lips are quick as they smash into yours.

and his other hand reaches for the condom on the counter but you quickly stop him, shaking your head. 'p-please, i need to feel you.' you mumble and eddie's mind is fuzzy, this time with the thought of fucking you raw.

'jesus, shit- are you sure baby?' his eyes widen, his hand on your thigh is dangerously rough, and you are already dripping.

'yes, eds, need to feel you fully.' you hum, begging. 'need to feel you fillin' me to the brim.' you groan.

's-shit, fuck- baby you're gonna be the fuckin' death of me.' he moans into your mouth as his lips clash against yours again, he's biting your lip, and his tongue is exploring your mouth, harsh and rough, but still so sensual that you can't help the moans that leave your mouth.

'move a lil', doll.' he orders against your lips and you obey quickly, once you do, he takes his painful erection out of his boxers, hissing as his angry tip faces you.

you attempt to give his pink tip a few tugs, your fingers sliding over his slit, collecting the pre-cum, but eddie's hand is quick to stop you.

'don't fuckin' tease me right now.' he almost growls, and you hum sweetly, while he adjusts you properly and slides your underwear to the side, placing you on top of his lap.

he groans loudly when you slightly sit on his cock, his tip barely pushes into you and your head is thrown back, it feels so good, just alone with his tip prodding your clit.

'i know you can take more than that, doll.' he teases, and you whimper quietly, as you attempt to take more of him, your walls rub against his cock as you try to adjust more to his size, you can feel him stretching you fully and you mewl on top of him.

'just like that, fuckin' take it, baby.' he grunts. 'look at how well your tight cunt is squeezin' me, yea?' he groans, his cock pushing further into you, and your walls squeeze around him.

'fuckin' made for me, s'fuckin' tight and warm, all for me, isn't that right, doll?' he curses into your lips, and you hum, nodding, your head swirling with the thoughts of nothing but eddie, and he loves it, he loves seeing you so cock drunk on him.

'all for you, eds.' you look up at him all doe-eyed and eddie thinks he's about to shatter right then and there.

you squeal when eddie sheats himself with force inside of you, it's painful at first but when pleasure takes over you, your eyes roll to the back of your head, 'how does that feel baby?' he teases almost.

's'so good, eds.' you barely let out.

'you feelin' full?' he asks, and you nod quickly, tears prickling your eyes, 'so fuckin' full.' you gasp when he grips your waist, holding you down on him so you can feel him fully.

'roll your hips for me a lil, peach.' his voice is commanding and you are more than ready to obey, as you start rolling your hips slowly on top of him, groaning loudly when his cock is painfully stretching you, causing you to accommodate to his size as your pain is now fully pleasure.

eddie curses as he lets you bounce on him. you're slow and eddie doesn't mind it when those pretty little sounds escape your plump lips.

eddie is big, granted, you always knew he was big, but feeling him this much when he's filling your tight cunt to the brim, makes you realize how big he really is.

and now that he's fucking you raw, with every slow roll of your hips, you can fully feel him, and his huge cock is stretching your walls.

your eyes flutter shut each time you try to pick up your pace, and eddie is about to lose his mind, you look so pretty, so fucking gorgeous when you're taking him, your mind filled with nothing but his cock.

'pretty lil' baby, takin' my cock so well.' he praises and you mewl on top of him 'such a good fuckin' girl.' he growls again and thrusts his hips upwards into you, and you let out a loud groan.

the coil inside of you threatens to break and snap, but you know you can only get there if eddie picks up your pace and fucks into you roughly, your slow hip rolls are not enough to get you to your release.

your eyes are glossy as you look up at him, and your toes are curled in desperation. you need to release, you're so close, but you can't quite get there, and tears are prickling at your eyes. 'eds, eds...' you whine in a soft pitch, pleadingly, and eddie almost chuckles.

'oh, peach...' he fake pouts 'i know, baby...' he taunts you, his hands cupping your cheek, 'you want me to make ya cum, sweets?' he asks, and you nod so quickly that you feel dizzy.

'you wanna cream my cock, doll?' you nod.

'p-please, eds, please.' you beg, feeling frustrated, almost about to cry, and eddie is hooked on you, he's ready to ruin you, make you cum till you scream out his name.

your begging is like music to his ears, and he's ready to comply everything you say, despite him being in charge.

'your wish is my command, baby.' he smirks, as his hips thrust upwards again, you whimper at the painful thrust, and it feels good, so fucking good, that you are mumbling his name over and over again.

and eddie doesn't hesitate when he starts pounding his cock into your aching cunt roughly, his eyes glimmer with lust when you mumble his name, he wants to hear it over and over again, your lips are in a perfect 'o' shape, and the image is etched into his brain, forever.

you are perfect, so fucking perfect and he's captivated by you. he's captivated with the way your tight cunt takes him in, so warm and fits perfectly, he's convinced you were made for him.

his groans are getting louder now, his pace is picked up, and his lips harshly press kisses onto your neck, biting and nibbling as you scream out for more.

's’fuckin’ warm, jesus, baby you’re drivin’ me crazy over here.’ he gritted through his clenched teeth. and you hummed in return, your toes curling up again as you know you are getting closer and closer, your eyes are dazed and glossy as you shut them.

but eddie’s hand harshly grips your chin. ‘nuh-uh, baby… need to see those pretty eyes, need you to watch me while i fuck your brains out and you cum all over my cock.’ he husks into your ear causing you to nod quickly, your eyes lazily blinking.

'see that, peach? see how well you're takin' my cock?' he hums as he thrusts again, his fingers grazing over your tummy, 'see how my cock is fillin' you to the brim?' he says huskily.

'mhm..' you nod, mouth gaping as you know you are about to release soon, eddie cockily nods, 'i know, baby... let go for me, doll.' you mewl against him.

'tell me, who's making you feel this fuckin' good?' he grunts, 'you, eddie, you!' you scream out, your hand wrapping around his neck tightly as you curse out, your mind dizzy as with more of his praises the coil snaps, and you moan loudly, your thighs shaking as you cum around his cock.

'oh god! you're so good, so fucking good, eddie!' you cry out. he groans when he feels you drenching his balls, 's-so good, eds.' you murmur again and your head falls into the nook of his neck, tired.

"god, peach, you look s'fucking pretty when you cum." eddie murmurs as he sheats his cock inside of you relentlessly again, you're soaked and your clit is overstimulated but you can't help the soft whimpers that escape your mouth.

'shit- baby, fuck! s'fuckin' tight when you cum over my cock.' eddie groans fucking you through your orgasm. 'not gonna last long, sweetheart.' he chuckles, he's about to explode from how your walls tighten around him, you're so perfect and he can't help himself.

'cum inside me, eds.' your voice is timid as you bring your head up to meet his lustful ones, you have a mischievous smirk and his eyes darken at your request.

'you sure, baby?' he asks, you nod quickly, 'im on the pill.'

'want you to fill me deep with your cum.' you add innocently and eddie is about to melt as he curses.

'fuck- you're so fuckin' perfect.' he grunts, his movements are sloppy now and you know he's about to cum.

'gonna drown this tight cunt with my fucking cum.' you roll your hips to help him get there faster, his grip on your hips is bruising but you don't care.

'jesus- fuck- i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.' he hisses and you , 'cum for me, eds. wanna feel you inside.' you whined again, your hips rolling in a faster pace now.

'shit- fuck- jesus fucking christ!' he cried out, his hips stilling when he finished inside of you. your walls tightened around him and a delicious groan slipped out of his lips, and he muttered your name over and over again, coating your insides with his cum.

you nuzzled your head in eddie's neck, while eddie was mumbling about how perfect you were, you giggled, as you mumbled compliments back to him.

you could feel his cock soften and twitch inside of you, he attempted to get up but you whined. 'noooo...' you pouted your lips, 'let's just stay like this for a while, pleaseee.' you pleaded, all doe-eyed and eddie knew he could never resist you when you were so adorable.

he gave you a warm smile, 'whatever my pretty girl needs.' he hummed, as he wrapped his arms tightly around you.

the two of you ended up falling asleep like that until eddie got woken up by your little whines as you shifted on top of him, his cock twitching for more friction, and begging to release as you slowly attempted to roll your hips and pleaded for a round two.

[harmonictechnicality]

Steve trims his split-ends in the bathroom one day and Eddie finds the trimmings in the garbage.

“What the hell is this?” Eddie barks the question, holding the trash can in front of Steve’s face. The crime has turned Eddie into some sort of Hair Lawyer, showcasing the evidence to the defendant.

Steve peers over top the magazine that he’s skimming through, examines the inside of the garbage can, and then returns back to reading.

“Baby, don’t do this.”

Which - wow - what a fucking outrageous response. Like who responds to their prosecutor with pet names and zero justification? Who does that?

“I didn’t do shit - you did this!” Eddie stares into the garbage can. Wiping imaginary tears from the corners of his eyes and staring longingly at the stray brown hairs. No longer attached to Steve’s gorgeous, perfect head.

“This is a travesty.”

“It’s just dead hair.”

“No, it was very much alive.” Eddie drops to his knees, pointing directly to Steve as he speaks. “You murdered it, Steve Harrington.”

“Whatever, I’ll play along.” Steve tosses his magazine to the side of the couch, rolling his eyes.

“What do you mean play al-” Eddie gets cut off by Steve’s finger over his lips.

He strokes Eddie’s cheek with the pad of his thumb, and the block of anger in Eddie’s chest goes all melty at the contact.

“How can I make this bizarro grieving process better?” Steve asks sweetly. His words are cushions to soften this devastating blow.

Like seriously, Aphrodite fucking molded Steve Harrington from god-like love and leftover cosmic dust. Why would he cut his hair knowing how ethereal he is? Okay sure, this is just Eddie’s Theory, but he’s goddamn convinced there’s pieces of Steve that are otherworldly - his infamous hair being one of them for sure.

“Eddie?”

“Sorry. Distracted.”

Distracted by his pretty boyfriend is a common occurrence in Eddie’s life now, but whatever.

"How do we fix this so I can avoid a guilty verdict by the jury of one?" Steve boops his finger onto Eddie's nose as he says 'one.' It makes Eddie all giggly, the anger is practically a puddle at this point. But if Eddie Munson is anything, it's consistent. If he starts a comedy bit, you bet your ass he's gonna fully commit.

"We're gonna bury it." Eddie acts solemn, regaining his silly little charade.

"My hair?"

"Uh huh."

"Eds..."

"It deserves a proper place of rest."

Steve exhales loudly. For a moment, he just looks over Eddie's features. Probably thinking, what the hell have I gotten myself into with this walking freakshow?

And before Eddie can allow that toxic thought to take occupancy in his mind, Steve puffs out his shiny pink lips and kisses Eddie. Nothing too rough, nothing too gentle (cause Eddie despises feathery-lipped kisses). It's the Goldilocks Effect of Kisses: just the right amount of everything. Just enough pressure, movement, tongue, all of it. Steve Harrington's lips can sweep away negative mindsets and replace them with shimmering constellations of positivity.

"Okay, baby." Steve says, eyes still closed post-kissing his boyfriend thoughtless. "I'll get the shoebox, you call the rest of the gang."

"Why?"

"Cause if we're doing this your way, we've gotta go all out."

"Which means?"

Steve pecks Eddie's cheek and gives him a quick wink:

"We're gonna have a whole damn funeral for my hair."

And that's when it hits him: the only thing Eddie is more committed to than his comedy bits, is Steve Harrington.

[steddiehyperfixation]

don't you forget about me (part three)

(part one)(part two)

Everyone’s left to “let him get some rest,” but Eddie doesn’t rest, not really. Although he does drift off the second he closes his eyes, his sleep is not restful and his dreams are plagued: 

Chrissy Cunningham stood in his trailer, small blonde girl in her cheerleader uniform. If Eddie hadn’t only just come out of his room with an unopened baggie of ketamine, he might’ve thought she’d already overdosed. Her eyes were rolled back, body frozen stiff like she was having some sort of seizure. Eddie shouted at her, shook her shoulders, waved his hands and snapped his fingers in front of her face, but Chrissy didn’t respond. He feared she might collapse, but then she did something much, much worse: she began to levitate. 

Eddie immediately let go of her shoulders and scrambled back as some invisible force slammed the girl into the ceiling. Her bones snapped; one at a time, her arms and legs twisted in unnatural angles. Her jaw unhinged and cracked out of place, her mouth now stuck in a horrible, soundless scream. Her eyes bled, dripping red down her cheeks, and then they exploded, popped with a sickening squelching sound, and her eyelids caved in to empty, bloody sockets.

Eddie wakes up screaming. His heart pounds frantically, the monitor beeping like crazy, and all his muscles are tense like he’s ready to run. 

Someone is at his side immediately; a gentle hand slips into his own, a soothing voice asks if he’s alright and tells him it’s okay, he’s safe now, it was just a nightmare. Eddie recognizes that hand, that voice, that shape in the dark. When did Harrington come back?

Eddie’s gasping, struggling to inhale a proper breath into his fear-frozen lungs. His wild eyes dart over the figure sitting beside him before landing on the hand that’s curled around his. Harrington must misread something in his expression then, because he mutters, “Sorry,” and starts to pull his hand away.

“No,” Eddie manages, instantly grabbing the other’s hand again and gripping it tight. “Keep- keep holding onto me.” 

“Always,” Harrington whispers, the word an exhale under his breath, so soft Eddie thinks he may have imagined it. 

Harrington rubs his thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. His touch is calming, grounding. Eddie’s breath begins to even out and his heart returns to a normal pace as his residual panic slowly dissipates. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he sighs heavily once he’s recovered a bit. He presses his free hand to his chest. “That was the most terrifying dream I’ve ever had in my life.”

“It’s over now,” Harrington says, still soft, still tracing circles across Eddie’s skin. “Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you anymore.”

But it can, because Eddie can still see those horrible images behind his eyelids every time he blinks. He says so, shakily, “Think it's burned into my brain now, though. It was so real, man, I’m not sure I’ll ever get her disfigured face and mangled body out of my head.”

Harrington pauses. “Wait a second, did you dream about Chrissy?” 

“Yeah, how did you-?” Eddie starts to ask, then stops as he remembers what Harrington had said yesterday about Chrissy being murdered in his trailer. The realization sets in with a cold chill. He shakes his head in horror, tightening his hold on Harrington’s hand like it's a lifeline. “No. Oh no, please don't tell me that actually happened.” 

“It did. I’m sorry, it did.” Harrington clasps Eddie’s hand in both of his now. “That wasn’t just a nightmare, Ed, that was a memory. You’re starting to remember.” 

“Well, shit,” Eddie mutters. If that’s what his lost memories are like, he thinks he’d very much rather them stay forgotten. “I’m starting to see why my brain blocked it all out in the first place, then. Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too?” 

“No…” Harrington frowns and that kicked puppy look flashes across his face, darkening the spark of hope that had just flickered in it before. “Well, maybe, I don’t know. I hope not.” 

“Great,” Eddie sighs, tired and sarcastic. He stares up at the ceiling where the gnarled ghost of Chrissy’s corpse still haunts his vision. “Can’t wait to remember more.” 

“I’m sorry,” Harrington says quietly. A heavy sadness runs thick in his voice again, same way he’d spoken when he first learned of Eddie’s amnesia. He squeezes Eddie’s hand once and then lets go. 

So much for always, Eddie thinks dimly. His hand feels cold now, naked and untethered without the solid pressure of Steve’s fingers curled around it. 

“You should try to go back to sleep,” Harrington tells him. The mattress shifts, the springs creak, as he rises from where he’d been perched at the edge of the bed. In the empty space he leaves behind, Eddie only feels even more untethered. 

A sharp rush of panic grips him at the thought of being left here alone in the dark with the twisting shadows and afterimages of his nightmare. “Wait, Steve,” Eddie calls out immediately, before Harrington can even begin to turn away from him. “Will you stay?” 

“Yeah.” Harrington nods, murmurs, “I’ll stay.” 

~

So Steve stays. He stays and he sits in the stiff chair by Eddie’s bed, and he spirals. Of course he spirals, in the silence, in the dark. He can’t seem to do anything else in Eddie’s presence lately but let his mind spin around in circles ‘til it breaks. 

Was the whole rest of the last 11 months that awful too? Eddie’s previous question is the catalyst of his spiral this time, the words that are currently echoing in the whirlpool of Steve’s consciousness, because he hadn’t thought of that before. He has already wallowed in the idea that he was something so unimportant he was easy to erase, but Steve hadn’t yet considered the possibility that he was something so horrible he needed to be erased. It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? The nurse did say Eddie’s amnesia was in part due to psychological trauma, and his memories do end just before he and Steve properly met. Was being with Steve so awful Eddie’s mind lumped it in with all the other recent traumas and just had to wipe it away? 

An ugly guilt twists beneath his skin, like a deep rot running black in his veins. Steve curls his hand into a fist in his lap, digs his fingernails into his palm as if the sharp bites of pain will help release what is dark and decayed inside of him. As if it will choke the voice in the hollow behind his heart that now tells him he deserved to lose Eddie’s love, or that maybe he never truly had it in the first place.

And, see, Steve knows he’s spiraling. He knows his brain has just tripped down some bullshit rabbit hole of self-deprecation and that really his despairing conclusions are not in any way rooted in reality. He knows Eddie loved him. He knows Eddie’s amnesia is not his own fault nor is it a reflection on him. He knows it’s got nothing to fucking do with him. Yet nonetheless, his mind continues to tumble downwards on a quest to prove the opposite. The rot still festers; the hollow still whispers.

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie’s soft-spoken words eventually cut through the quiet and shake Steve from his lamenting thoughts. 

He sits forward. “Yeah?” 

“I can’t sleep,” Eddie says. “Do you, uh- sorry, could you…maybe hold my hand again?” His voice is small like he’s asking for something embarrassing, and his hesitancy kind of breaks Steve’s heart. “Just until I fall back asleep. It just- it makes me feel safer.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Steve scoots his chair closer to the bed and gently takes hold of Eddie’s hand again. 

Eddie sighs, a heavy exhale of relief, his body beginning to relax almost immediately. He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he mumbles. 

“Anytime,” Steve whispers in response. Always, forever, anything; because I love you, want you, need you, miss you. He swallows down the emotion that rises in his chest. Another spiral threatens to drown his mind again and he fights that off too, tries not to think about everything that fucking hurts. 

He focuses on the familiar feeling of Eddie’s hand in his (it’s bittersweet; he’s not thinking about it), on watching the steady rise and fall of Eddie’s chest as he slips back into a more peaceful sleep (he wants to kiss his forehead, tuck him in like a child; he’s not thinking about it).

Steve leaves first thing in the morning. The second Wayne walks in and Eddie now has someone else there to watch over him, Steve tells the older man briefly about Eddie’s nightmare and then he’s out the door before Eddie even wakes up, and he doesn’t return that day. 

He can convince himself, illogically, that it’s better for Eddie if he stays away - that Steve’s spiral was right and he’d only make Eddie uncomfortable in the daylight; the less he’s around, the less the rot inside of him can poison Eddie too. But also it’s selfish. Mostly it’s selfish. Because as much as Steve craves to be near him, it hurts far more to be around him and not be seen, not be known, not be loved. The ache of missing him when they’re apart is so much easier to bear than the ache of missing him when he’s right in front of him.

Still, Steve does come back that night. He doesn’t want Eddie to be alone, and with Wayne working graveyard shifts and everyone else having parents to answer to, Steve is the only one left who’s both willing and able to sit with him through the night. He has a feeling, just a feeling, same as he’d had the night before, that Eddie might need him again. Well- maybe not him specifically, but just someone, anyone, to comfort him in the dark, and Steve can be that someone. And maybe that’s selfish too, because it feels good, eases the ache a bit, to be the one to help Eddie, to take care of him. If Steve cannot be loved then he will settle for being needed.

Good for them both, then, that Eddie does end up needing Steve that night. Eddie jolts awake from another nightmare memory - this one about being chased onto the lake by Jason Carver and watching another body float above the water and be crumpled and killed by Vecna - and Steve is there once more to hold his hand and soothe him back to sleep.

And then, again, Steve is gone the next morning, back the next night. Such is the pattern he’s fallen into, the selfish, stupid pattern: gone when he cannot feel loved, back when he can feel needed. 

Tonight is the worst nightmare yet. Steve can tell it’s bad even before Eddie wakes. The heart monitor begins to beep more rapidly, Eddie whimpers and twitches in his sleep. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand and tries to ease the nightmare before it worsens, though to no avail. 

Eddie doesn’t wake up screaming this time, but choking and crying, rasping through hyperventilating breaths fragmented nonsense about bats and pain and death. He doesn’t seem to be completely aware or lucid right now, still stuck in his nightmare where he’s dying and he’s scared, so scared. 

“Shh, Eddie, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Steve can’t stand to see him like this. Holding his hand isn’t enough. “C’mere,” he murmurs. “You’re alright.” He doesn’t even think, just climbs onto the bed with him and very very carefully, very very gently, sits them both up and pulls Eddie onto his chest, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. “You’re alright,” Steve continues to whisper softly, lips brushing against Eddie’s hair. “Just breathe, baby, it’s okay.” (The pet name just slips out; neither of them notice.)

Eddie clutches Steve’s arms, leans back against his chest and tucks his face into the curve of Steve’s neck. He’s trembling, breath still rapid and panicked, not yet free of the waking dream he’s trapped in. “I died- I’m dead- I was dead,” Eddie keeps babbling in shaky, sobbing gasps. “It hurts- and I died. I don’t- I don’t wanna die- I don’t-” 

“You’re not dying, Eddie, you’re not. You’re okay,” Steve reassures him. “You’re alive.” He gently pries one of Eddie’s hands off his arm and guides it to the boy’s chest, covering his hand with his own as he presses it over Eddie’s heart to give proof to his words. “Do you feel that? You’re alive, you’re so alive.” 

Eddie sucks in a deep breath, lets out a tremulous exhale. “I’m alive,” he repeats, his voice wavering like he’s trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t quite believe. 

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, still holding his hand over Eddie’s slowly steadying heartbeat. “You’re alive.” 

Eddie repeats it again, a little more solidly this time. “Okay,” he breathes out. “Okay, I’m okay.” His hyperventilating has finally begun to ease, his tremors gradually dissipating. He seems to wake up a bit more now, settles back into reality. He rolls his face out of the crook of Steve’s neck and tilts his head up to rest it against his shoulder instead as he looks at him. “Steve,” Eddie says, not like a question or the beginning of a sentence, but more like he’s only just now becoming aware of who’s holding him. 

Steve gives a small hum of confirmation in response. He doesn’t know if Eddie is going to want him to move now, if the way they’re situated is uncomfortable for him or if Eddie is even okay with this situation at all. Steve can’t tell. He should’ve thought of that first. Holding his hand is one thing, but pulling Eddie half on top of him and holding him there is another thing entirely. And Eddie doesn’t know him anymore. Steve wouldn’t blame the guy if he freaked out at coming out of a panic attack to find himself in some strange man’s arms. 

But Eddie just closes his eyes, goes quiet and still for a few long moments, and so Steve stays where he is, assumes Eddie’s trying to go back to sleep. Steve will keep holding him until then. 

“Why are you always here at night?” Eddie asks suddenly, opening his eyes again. So he’s not trying to go back to sleep. 

The question catches Steve off guard, and not just because he hadn’t expected Eddie to speak again. “I, uh, I don’t want you to be alone- you know, with your nightmares.” 

“No, yeah, I know, and I-I’m grateful for that, but,” Eddie clarifies, “I meant, why are you always only here at night? I know you’re around during the day, dropping off one of the kids or Robin or whatever, you just don’t come in. Like- you’ll hold me through a nightmare, but you won’t actually hang out with me and just, like, eat shitty hospital food and watch shitty hospital TV with me. What’s up with that?” Eddie looks up at him. His tone is light enough, but there’s a genuine curiosity in his eyes, and a confusion that borders on hurt. “Thought we were supposed to be friends, Harrington.”

“We are,” Steve says immediately. “We are friends. I just- I didn’t want to force that on you or-or make you uncomfortable or awkward or anything. I know you don’t know me anymore.” 

“Well, you haven’t given me much of a chance to get to know you again,” Eddie states plainly, and that catches Steve off guard too. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to.” 

“Of course I want to,” Eddie mutters. “You’re a decent guy, Stevie. Not how I thought you’d be. Maybe I want you to keep surprising me.” 

The way one corner of his mouth quirks up then, popping a dimple in his cheek, makes Steve’s heart stutter, chest warm with a rush of affection. He can’t help but smile a little too. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” Eddie echoes, smirk stretching into a proper grin now. He taps his fingers where they rest on Steve’s arm. “You better hang out with me tomorrow.” 

“I will,” Steve agrees, because how can he say no to a smile like that? “Promise.” 

~

Satisfied, Eddie closes his eyes and settles back to try and fall asleep again. A lingering fear still runs like an undercurrent beneath his veins though, scared of sleep and dreading the possibility of another nightmare, another memory. He shifts, pulls Steve’s arms a little tighter around him. Eddie never seems to have bad dreams once Steve is holding onto him.

(part four) taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (i have hit my limit on amount of people i can tag in one post; taglist will be continued in replies. please lmk if you'd like to be removed from this list. no longer accepting any more additions atm!! also, thank you guys so much for all the support on this so far omg??? this is insane for me and i'm so glad y'all are enjoying my writing <3)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

While we're all going insane again over them using a different take for Stede's memory of the fine things scene, the thing that always makes me so emotional is how perfectly it fits as Stede's recollection of it.

When we watch the scene in s1, Ed's really the focus. His little surprised exhales, the almost shy and cautious way he looks up at Stede through his lashes, the tender and intentional way Stede folds up his piece of silk. But in the s2 version, as Stede's remembering it, it's so different. There's something different in Stede's lines that gives them a sort of intentionality as opposed to how almost oblivious (still kind, still gentle, still loving, just not quite as aware of that love) he seems in the original version. Stede doesn't remember folding up the silk so delicately and carefully, he kinda just remembers fingering that thing in there. It's much less of a focus on the silk itself and more on Ed's reaction as he looks at him, which, again, feels more meaningful, less shy and cautious and more weighty.

It takes fucking guts to use a cut of such an iconic scene that's so different, and these filmmakers knew what they were doing because it fucking works. Of course Stede doesn't remember the silk like Ed does; he doesn't get why that's so important. Of course Stede, laying there on the deck and missing Ed, remembers it as a more intentionally romantic moment, because he's wishing it was! It's fucking brilliant and I'll never be over it.

[scoops-stevie-archive]

ftm steve, established steddie. contains detailed descriptions of periods.

Steve spends the first day of his period absolutely miserable. His emotions are all over the place. One minute he's this close to lashing out at the first minor inconvenience and the next he's ready to bawl his eyes out.

He knows Robin can tell that something's up. She keeps asking if he's alright and Steve tries to brush it off, tell her he's fine, it's just a little headache, he couldn't sleep last night. But then that sends her into another spiral that makes Steve want to scream and throw something just to get her to be quiet.

Those are mean thoughts, Steve knows, but his body's all out of whack, and his knees and lower back are killing him and he swears he can feel his fucking hips shifting. Add in the cramps that are steadily rolling through his uterus and he's so fucking close to committing homicide.

He's in the stacks, dead-eyed as he stocks the new animated releases, and shifting from foot to foot because now those also hurt and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine that'll have him calling off the next day, and he just wants to go home and lay on the couch with his heating pad and his boyfriend while some shitty TV show plays in the background.

"Steve?" Speak of the devil.

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgement and continues to shelve the tapes. He ignores the pang in his chest that makes him want to reach out and pull Eddie closer and burrow into him.

As if he can read his mind (or tell by the look on his face), Eddie steps closer. "You got Robbie real worried, sweetheart," he says gently, hands in his pockets. Steve can tell he wants to reach out for him the same way he does.

"I'm fine, Eds," Steve says. More like he tries not to snap at the only person who knows about his "condition." He can feel his agitation rising, though, with another wave of cramps that are accompanied by nausea and a sick feeling of something gushing from down there.

"Is that why you look like you wanna blow chunks all over the place right now?"

Steve maybe puts a tape on the shelf a little too hard. "It's been a shit day, Eddie, I really don't need sarcasm right now."

Eddie puts his hands up. "Sorry, sorry." He comes a little closer and lowers his voice. "Talk to me, baby. What's the matter?"

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's the first day," he mutters behind his hand.

"Hm? I couldn't hear you, Stevie."

"I said–" Steve sighs again, harsher this time, and his hand falls to his side, his gaze firmly locked on the tapes in front of him. "It's the first day, and the first day is always shit. It feels like a rock's sitting in my stomach or something and I can't take more than two steps without feeling like I'm gonna puke."

He doesn't mean to unload it all onto his boyfriend, but he asked for it. His perfect, wonderful boyfriend who takes it all in stride without a single hint of judgement or disgust.

"I'm hormonal as fuck, man, and it’s like customers chose today specifically to be even more annoying than they usually are, like they made it their personal mission or some shit."

Steve looks to the front of the store where Robin is still at the counter and then back at Eddie. "Robin keeps asking me if I'm alright, and I love her, Eds, I really do, but if she keeps it up, I'm gonna end up snapping at her and then she'll cry and that'll make me feel even worse."

Steve takes a deep breath, holds in it for ten seconds, and exhales. "I just need a break," he says, sounding defeated, and so so tired. "I just need to be alone for five minutes, and–"

Eddie, who has been quiet this whole time, like a saint, letting Steve rant until he runs out of steam, tilts his head and looks at him with those big Bambi eyes Steve loves so much.

"And what, Stevie?" he asks gently.

Something in Steve's chest snaps and his bottom lip wobbles before he can stop it. The back of his throat burns like it always does when he's about to cry, and– yep, here come the tears.

He takes a shaky breath and his voice breaks when he says, "I need you."

Eddie's expression falls into something Steve absolutely hates. "Baby–"

Steve clears his throat and the tears are gone as quick as they came, though his eyes are a little red rimmed and shiny.

He shakes his head and waves Eddie off, putting more tapes on the shelves like he didn't just have a mini breakdown in the middle of his shift. "It's fine, Eddie, really. I'll just, I don't know, take a painkiller and tough the next couple hours out."

The tape he's holding is gently taken from him and set on the shelf for him. Eddie levels him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that really what you want to do?"

Steve bites his lip. He doesn't. Work is the last place he wants to be at today, or this whole week for that matter.

He shakes his head with a soft, "No."

"Okay, then."

Eddie tells him to go grab his things from the break room. Steve is too exhausted to argue. He comes back to the front counter but before Robin can launch into a lengthy apology, Eddie interrupts her with a minute shake of his head.

Steve holds his arms out and pulls her in for a hug anyway.

"I'm sorry for being an ass all day," he says and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

Robin hugs him back and kisses his cheek. "I'm sorry for being pushy." She pulls back and takes Steve's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Hope you feel better soon, dingus."

Steve can't leave his car at work overnight so he follows Eddie's van to the trailer. He grabs one of Eddie's pullover hoodies out of his closet once they're inside and a pair of baggy sweatpants before making a beeline for the bathroom to pee and change his pad.

Soon enough, Steve comfortable and cozy on the couch, covered with at least two blankets and even more pillows, his hood pulled over his head and mussing his hair up even more. Eddie's got My Friend Is a Vampire playing on the TV, but Steve's saving grace is the heating pad that's covering his waist under the blankets.

Steve groans softly as he's hit with more cramps and shifts his hips against them.

"Here, sweetheart." Eddie comes back from the kitchen and hands him a cup of hot chocolate. He reclaims his spot next to Steve, boxing him between his body and the back of the couch. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Steve grumps, taking a sip and reaching back to set the mug on the side table. "I'd rather take being gnawed on by demobats than have to deal with these cramps. At least I can see the bats and try to stop them." He winds his arms around Eddie's waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

Eddie crinkles his nose in distaste. "Frankly, babe, I'd rather you not go through either." He rubs his thumb over the skin of Steve's hip. "What's stopping you from using all that government money to pay for your surgery?"

Steve hums and turns his nose into Eddie's neck, smiling against the skin. "I wanna get at least one kid out of you before I do that."

They've talked about this. In length. Eddie was there for the Winnebago conversation. Steve wasn't lying back then, but he's since realized he was wanting all those things with the wrong person.

"Yeah?" Eddie's voice is amused. "You want a couple Harrington spawn running around the trailer park?"

"Nah, was thinking more along the lines of a Munson brat."

Eddie stills against him.

Steve comes out from his hiding spot and grins at the look on his boyfriend's face. He leans up and kisses his cheek. "Did I break your brain on that one, honey?"

Eddie shakes himself out of his stupor and cups Steve's face, pressing him into the couch so he can kiss him silly.

"I'm gonna give you so many Munson brats, baby," he promises between leaving kisses all over Steve's face and Steve's giggles. "You won't even know what hit ya by the time I'm through with you."

Steve guffaws and lets Eddie cover him with kisses and love.

"I'll hold you to that, baby, don't worry."

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Heat on your skin

Written for the June pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: summer

Rated: E

Tags: Established relationship; Sunburn; Dom!Steve; Sub!Eddie; Dry humping; Thigh fucking; Lotion as lube; Anal sex; Orgasm denial

Notes: Mickala said "anything you might do in summer" and my brain went "lather your badly sunburnt beau in lotion, then fuck him until he goes cross-eyed". You're all welcome.

“Impressive. I didn't know skin could turn that color.” 

Eddie unburies his sweaty face from the pillow to glower at his boyfriend. Steve is standing beside the bed, topless and perfect. His hair, still damp and disheveled, is alight with golden highlights. His skin is bronzed, a delicate flush blooming on his chest and cheekbones. He's flipping a bottle of lotion in one hand, eyeing Eddie’s shoulders and back. His expression is teetering between horror and fascination. 

“Go ahead,��� Eddie grumbles. “Ogle me like I'm some circus freak. Sun-kissed bastard.” 

If the sun kissed Steve, it punched Eddie square in the teeth. Swept out his feet from under him as he went down, then kicked him in the ribs before stepping over his limp body and walking away, laughing at his misery. 

Steve chuckles. The bed dips as he straddles Eddie’s thighs. 

“To be fair, I told you to put on sunscreen. Which you not only refused to do-” 

“Because it's sticky, gross and smells horrible.” 

“But also,” Steve continues. The bottle plops as he uncaps it. “You fell asleep.” 

“And you didn't wake me,” Eddie gripes. “I think we're both to blame, at least a- fuck, what's that?” 

“Aloe,” Steve says. He sets the bottle down on the mattress, then starts spreading the cold gel between Eddie’s shoulders. “It might sting a little, but it'll help. Quit squirming.” 

It doesn't just sting a little, it burns like a bitch. Eddie fists his hands into the pillow and tries taking slow, measured breaths, but can't keep his shoulders from twitching. 

“I said,” Steve rumbles. “Hold still.” 

The touch of his hands stays featherlight, but his stance shifts, trapping Eddie a little more firmly against the mattress. Through the thin fabric of their swim shorts, Eddie can feel Steve’s cock pressing against his thigh. He exhales a long breath, forcing himself to go limp and pliant under those hands. 

“There you go,” Steve hums. “Good boy.” 

Eddie’s own cock twitches against the sheets. 

Steve takes his sweet time with him, working his way down his back. After a while, the burnt skin begins to feel cooler in the wake of his touch. Eddie sighs, letting himself drift on the sweet relief of it - and on the different, more urgent heat that’s building at the base of his spine. Steve notices, because of course he does, the sly little fucker. 

“Shhh, baby,” he soothes. His fingers are painting little circles over Eddie’s hip bones now, brushing the seams of his shorts almost as if by accident. Eddie lets out a shaky moan, and Steve rolls his hips, slow and languid, cock slotting between Eddie’s thighs. “Let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

“Shit,” Eddie breathes. And if it comes out more whimper than word? And if he sounds all desperate and pathetic, positively wrecked even though they’re both not even fully naked? So what? He’s red as a lobster, his skin will probably start coming off in flakes by tomorrow, and his perfect greek god of a boyfriend is slowly fucking his thighs through their shorts. He thinks he deserves to be cut some slack here. “Stevie, I’m not sure I can do that with my back. I can hardly even move, man.” 

“Told you, Eds,” Steve murmurs, and shifts his weight again. Eddie gasps as his shorts are yanked down, all the way to the hollows of his knees. “Don't want you to move.” 

Sun-warmed lips trace the base of his spine, only to be replaced by Steve’s fingers again, slick and wet with lotion. 

“And I'm not gonna touch your back,” Steve promises, voice tender and soothing as a caress. One of those large hands settles on Eddie’s hip. “I'm just gonna hold you in place like this and fuck you into this mattress, nice and slow. Would you like that?” 

“Yes,” Eddie sighs, as Steve starts to carefully open him up with one hand. “Oh God, Stevie, yes, please.” 

“Thought you'd say that,” Steve chuckles. “Always so greedy for me, aren't you?” 

How could he not be? How could he ever be anything but greedy for the care and attention that Steve showers him with? How could he ever be anything but desperate for the slow, delicious burn of being fucked open on those deft fingers. How could he ever do anything else but moan and shiver and beg for Steve’s cock as he finally lines himself up, grabbing Eddie’s hips on either side.

“Y’know,” he mutters as, after what feels like a beautiful eternity, Steve begins to move inside of him. He's starting to feel light-headed and tingly all over, and the words come out a bit slurred. “If this is what I get for forgetting my sunscreen, I might do it more often.” 

“Oh?” Steve laughs, all indulgent amusement. He snaps his hips sharply, once, before resuming his languid rhythm. Eddie moans as the motion squeezes at his hard, leaking dick, trapped between his own body weight and the mattress. “You sure about that?” 

“Huh?” Eddie wheezes. He's dizzy from the heat and drunk on Steve's touch, and he can’t fucking think straight. “What d’you mean?” 

“I mean,” Steve says, and picks up his pace. Eddie sucks in a sharp breath as the grip of those hands tightens, pulling him down a little deeper on Steve's cock with each thrust. “I said that I was gonna fuck you. I didn't say anything about letting you cum, did I?” 

“What the fuck?” Eddie squawks. “Oh no, Stevie, please, you're killing me here.” 

Steve tuts at him. 

“Don't be so dramatic, honey,” he scolds. The bed springs creak in time with his thrusts. “If you can take a little sunburn, blue balls won't kill you either, right?” 

And maybe the sun fried his head, and maybe Steve is slowly turning his brain into goo with each new thrust of his cock. The point is, Eddie can't really find the will to argue. 

[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 4 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Officer Steve harrington/ Gangster Eddie munson & Doctor fem submissive Y/N, SMUT, degrading, some spanking, LOTS of dirty talk, handcuffs, slight overstimulation, after care of course.

ANGST, Jason causing problems before the meeting with his dad. Mentions of explosions and shooting. Eddie being sexily intimidating <3, Steve's dad makes a cameo and undermines the readers profession like a dick. Slight cliffhanger ending...I guess. Idk lol

Word Count: 5993

Last Chapter Here

“Last chance, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your hold on Eddie’s arm tightens as you exhale out your nerves. This entire week had been rough not just on you but them as well. You were ready for it all to be over so you could just enjoy being with the new men in your life. If this is what you needed to do for that to be done so be it. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

As you smile up at him, he leans down to kiss your lips making you laugh as you quickly wipe away the lipstick that lingered on his mouth.

Both your demeanors hardened as the door to the venue was opened and Eddie led you inside. 

***

The gangster ran into the hospital room with you trailing behind, glancing at the chart that was attached to the wall as Steve stood by Chrissy’s bed side. 

“What happened?!”

“Witnesses say they don’t know. Just, suddenly, her store was fire.”, the officer relayed with a sigh. “It’s all gone, Ed.”

“It says here she should be fine…physically at least.”, you add as your sad eyes shift towards the unconsciously girl in front of them. 

“We-we can rebuild her store. That won’t be an issue—”

“EMS found a note pinned to her sweater.”

Steve handed him the slightly charred piece of paper that Eddie read aloud.

 “No, Kiddo, this moment…this is me at my most masochistic.

Three.”

“The fuck does that even mean?”

“It’s a quote from Kill Bill. Everything but the three. I don’t know what that means.”, you answered, trying to hide the fear and worry.

Placing his hands on his hips, Eddie begins to pace. 

“I really think you two should stay in my apartment until we get this resolved.”

“You and I both know I can’t do that.”, Steve murmurs as his face scrunches in thought. “And we both know she’s not because of her patients.”

A knowing smirk flashes along your features as you shrug. 

“I don’t like this. I still think—”

“I know what you think, Ed, and I’m telling you no.”, the officer cut him off. “You already went and attacked him once and look what’s happening.”

“I feel weak, Steve. Like I’m letting him get away with this bullshit.”

“You’re not weak. If anything, he’s weak for reacting this way.”, you respond as you wrap your arm around his waist and in response he kisses your forehead. 

“I just… I’m still going to have some of my guys watching over you two. Y/N, Gareth will be in the clinic with you and Steve, Jeff can linger out of the way so he isn’t seen.”

######### 

“Jesus, ALL of Hawkins High Society is here.”, you murmur as you two enter the garish ballroom style area where extremely well-dressed people had gathered. 

Eddie had taken you shopping and bought you a beautiful (expensive) red evening dress that flowed to your ankles but had a slit up to just below your hip. He had bought you some equally expensive jewelry to match except for the bracelet around your wrist. 

“I know it’s not as lavish as what Tony Montana here got you but I saw it in the store and it made me think of you.”, Steve blushed as he hooked the bracelet to you and spun it around. It was a simple silver chain but in the middle was what looked like a heartbeat reading you see on ECG machines at work. “Since you, ya know, stole the other half of my heart.”

“Wow, Steve Harrington. That was smooth.”, Eddie chuckled. “Um, here. Here’s MY other half as well.”, he grinned softly as he slides one of his rings onto your finger. 

“Yeah like you said before, ‘rich people trying to make themselves feel better.’.”

Eddie insisted you both should stand out so not only would people see you together and know you’re his but it would draw the eye of Mr. Carver so he’d hopefully come talk to you two. His suit matched your outfit with a red button up but every other piece on him was a crisp black that made him seem even more handsome. 

While your hair was down around your shoulders, his was up and pulled back so you could see his face a bit more. Occasionally during the car ride, you would lean over and kiss his cheek just because you could making him beam over at you as he squeezed your hand. 

Leading you to the bar, he ordered you both a glass of champagne making you giggle as you watch him chug it down and ask for another. 

“Nervous?”

“Uh a little but not for the reason you might think. I’ve never met Steve’s parents. I’ve heard stories and of course they don’t know about us but for some reason I still want them to kind of like me.”, he playfully winces making you laugh harder. 

“That’s normal, baby. You love him so you want them to like you; to approve.”

Grinning in your direction, Eddie leans down to kiss your cheek while you were taking a sip from your glass.

“What was that for?”

“I’m just so glad we met you. I wish it was under different circumstances but—”

“One bourbon, straight, please and thank you.”, Steve sighs heavily as he leans over the counter waiting for his drink. “My parents are on their bullshit tonight.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”, you whisper with a smile as he thanks the bartender again and knocks back his drink. 

“Steven, I thought you were bringing everyone back something.”, a man practically whined as he came up behind him. 

“I was. Dad, this is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N and—”

“Edward Munson, sir. Nice to meet you.”, Eddie greeted as he enthusiastically extended his hand for him to shake. 

As the officer turns to grab the drinks and hide his smirk, you subtly bumped him with your hip.

“Hm. I’ve heard your name around town. Very prominent young man. What do you do exactly?”

“Management you could say sir.”

“And you young lady? Are you a real doctor or just one of those professor types?”

“Um, I own my own clinic and treat patients.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“It’s Hawkins Virtue Clinic on the lower west side.”

“Ah on the crime riddled side of town where people can’t even afford napkins from a restaurant let alone healthcare.”

Your gaze shifts to Steve who tilts his glass towards you in a cheer gesture with a little smile as he knocks back its contents. 

“I guess you could say that. That’s why I don’t charge them more than they can afford.”

“How do you make money then?”

“It’s not always about money. For me, all that matters is people can live long healthy lives.”

“Not in Hawkins, honey, but it’s a cute dream. Come on, Steve, your mother is waiting.”

“I’ll see you peasants later.”, he teases as he winks and follows his father. 

“Well, that was a good test run.”, you joke as you turn to face Eddie. 

“Yeah, hopefully George isn’t that cynical.” 

#############

“Thank you for keeping an eye on me these past few days.”, you beam at Gareth as you both walk to your car. 

“Of course. It’s actually been oddly exciting. I learned that green is never really a good color especially on or IN your skin unless its vegetables, obviously.” He grins when you laugh. “I also learned that sick kids are VERY loud and nurses deal with way too much. 

“They really do. I try to give them raises as much as I can to show my appreciation but it’s hard with my lack of funds.”

“I’m sure Eddie could help if you asked.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t impose.”

Your guard paused, holding his arm out to stop you as well.

“Stay here.” Drawing his gun, he slowly walked forward towards your car, scanning the interior and around the side. Noticing a note tapped to the door handle, he carefully pulls it off and reads the contents before his wide eyes meet yours. 

“Y/N RUN!”

As he starts sprinting your way, you suddenly feel heat and a strong wind that knocks you off your feet as your car explodes.

***

Eddie’s tires skid as he slams on his breaks when he arrives at your clinic. Bypassing all the fire fighters and EMS, he entered the building hunting for you. 

“What happened?! Baby, are you alright?”

Silently, Steve grabbed his partner’s arm and dragged him off to the side. Digging into his pocket, he handed Eddie the note that was taped to your car.

“I'm not gonna kill you. Your job will be to tell the rest of them that death is coming for them, tonight. Two.”

“I looked it up, it’s a quote from another movie involving revenge. And I’m assuming—”

“He’s counting down.”, Eddie interrupts. “I’m going to fucking kill that son of a bitch.”

“No, hey. We have a plan, remember? Right now, she needs you.”

After coming back around the corner, Steve shoos the EMS people away as he sits beside you in your waiting area with his pencil and pad pretending to take your statement while the gangster takes a seat on your other side. 

“Princess, look at me. Are you ok? Did you get hurt?”

“Uh, no. Gareth, he, um, he did though.”, you respond as your tear-filled eyes meet his. “I tried to do what I could, Eddie. H-He was badly burned. I-I-I don’t have stuff here for those kinds of burns.”

Tilting you against him, he presses your head to his chest as you sob.

“EMS said that he will most likely be ok and if you hadn’t been there he would have died. Honey, you saved him.”

“H-He saved me, Steve.”

“You’re both staying with me. No arguments.”, Eddie announced as you nodded.

“I have to go in and fill out my report—”

“Steven…”

“I know, I know. I’m probably next but there’s nothing I can do, Eddie. I have to go in and do this. Plus, I have Jeff and a station full of cops. I’ll be ok.”

############

“I’m going to go smoke a cigarette, sweetheart, ok? Don’t go far.”

You nod as you watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his pack as he disappears out on the nearby patio. Glancing at all the people around you, you suddenly feel extremely isolated completely unsure of what you should be doing. 

“Don’t let them see you crumble.”, an older man chuckles as he steps closer to you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I know what it’s like to walk into this sea of rich people and feel completely out of place. When my father and I moved here, we had nothing but a few pennies in our pocket but he knew how to finagle. Networked his way to his first 100K and used that to start an empire.”

“That’s amazing. My, uh, my grandparents were the same. They said personality goes a long way in any business. My grandma opened a tutoring center on the east side and helped so many underprivileged kids go on to college. My dad thought she was ridiculous. ‘You’re barely making ends meet, ma!’”, you roll your eyes.

“Ah, one of those.”, the man smiles. “I inherited my father’s company and then gave it to my son. Did your grandmother do the same?”

“Oh, no. She got sick pretty early on in her life and I moved in with them to help take care of her. It’s what actually sparked my interest in medicine. I’m a doctor and I run my own clinic, Hawkins Virtue.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of that place. You help a lot of people who are struggling.”

“I try.”, you grin, happy to meet someone who seems to genuinely find interest. 

“Do you need funding? I’d love to come by and see what you do.”

Shifting your gaze, you notice Steve watching you intensely from beside his parents.

“I would like that very much. I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.”, you introduce as you offer him your hand that he takes and kisses the back off.

“George. George Carver.”

***

Steve sighs as he heads out of the police station to go home. Placing the ear bud in his ear, he taped his phone to immediately call Eddie. 

“What’s going on?? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, babe. I’m fine. I’m on my way now.”

“Ok, stay on the phone with me till you’re almost here.”

“Heh. I love when you get protective.”

Eddie listens to every footstep with anticipation as the officer heads towards his car.

“You’re my Paladin, babe, but I’m the Master. I can take care of you to.”

“You’re such a nerd.”, he chuckles, pausing at the sight of the note on his windshield.

Trying not to startle his boyfriend, he carefully removed it as he backed away from his car.

“Killing's got to be accepted. Murder was the only way that everybody stayed in line. You got out of line, you got whacked. Everybody knew the rules. One.”

Something suddenly whizzed passed him, shattering his driver’s side window.

“Fuck me.” As soon as he hit the ground, multiple rounds of gunfire went off around him. Steve could barely hear Eddie in his ear as he crawled behind a nearby vehicle and waited.

“STEVEN! ANSWER ME GODDAMN IT!”

“I’m ok! I’m ok!”

Pointing his gun towards the car, he fired a few rounds before it disappeared around the corner. 

***

Eddie paced as you cleaned the cuts on Steve’s hand he had received from all the glass on concrete. The gangster was on edge since he had to wait for police to scope the scene and take the officer’s statement. 

“Fucking asshole. Steve, I’m sorry but I can’t let this slide. Two of my friends are in the hospital and he almost killed you two.”

“No. He wants to kill us in front of you remember. This was just to toy with you and us.”

“I don’t like the casual way you said that.”, Steve teased as he pokes your nose with his free hand. 

“Excuse me. Not a joke here!”

“You’re right, baby. Talking with his father won’t be enough. He crossed a line but we need to focus on this first to keep Y/N safe. After we handle that, then we can handle him.”

“I may have an idea that won’t upset his father IF we get that approval and will get your message across.”, you announce as they give you their attention. 

############

“Mr. Carver.”

“Ah, Mr. Munson or should I saw Edward. We don’t want to confuse you with your father now do we?”, the man laughs light-heartedly as your gangster circles a protective arm around you. “Do you know Dr. Y/L/N here?”

“Oh, please, sir. You can call me Y/N.”, you beam trying to remain as calm as possible.

“Yes, sir. I met Y/N when she saved me from a nasty wound I got. I had heard of all the things she’s done for the community so, of course, I had to get to know her better.”, he grins as he pulls you closer.

“That ‘nasty wound’ wouldn’t have been inflicted by my son per chance?” Eddie stiffened a bit beside you as the man gave him a once over. “Yeah, I know you and Jason don’t get along but that doesn’t give you the right to invade his turf and kill his best friend.”

“If I may, Mr. Carver, is there a private place we can talk?”

“No, you may not. Whatever is going on between you and him doesn’t involve me. You two are in charge now. Handle it.”

As he starts to walk away, you reach out to grab the man’s bicep.

“Please, sir. So many innocent people have gotten hurt just in this week alone. Your son is throwing a tantrum over something he started and is upset because Eddie didn’t let it go like his father used to. Please, just listen to what he has to say. We don’t want anything in return or anything like that. Just…listen.”

Jason’s father sighs as he glances you over.

“You would even decline the generous donation I was thinking of giving to your clinic? That’s a lot of funds that could help a lot of people.”

“This will help more.”

At your sentence, he blinked and stood up straighter. 

“Ok. Ok, Mr. Munson. Let’s talk.”

***

Jason exhaled as he took off his tie and laid his gun on the kitchen counter with his keys as he headed towards his living room. 

“Long night?”

“Jesus Christ, dad!”, the man jumped as he clutched his chest. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were going to the fundraiser event tonight.”

“I was busy.”

“I hope you weren’t busy with anything involving the Munson crew.”

As his father rose to his feet, Jason stood up straighter.

“I told you. That asshole killed Andrew—”

“After you broke into his girlfriend’s house and pulled a gun on him?”

“He killed Patrick and my friends!”

“AFTER you kidnapped his friend WHO IS A COP and beat him up! You stupid idiot!”, his dad growls as his son flinches. “What’s this I hear about you starting fires, blowing up cars, and doing shootings outside of a police station?! And leaving these moronic notes like this is some gangster movie!”, George shouts as he grumbles the papers he was given and tossed them his way. “This is not how we run our business, Jason.”

“Edward Munson needs to be taken out.”, he seethes. 

“Edward Munson will be left alone and so will his crew. That includes Steve Harrington and Y/N Y/L/N. Do you understand me, son?”

“Are you kidding!? He just gets away with killing my friends?!”

“BE GLAD I DON’T KILL YOU! Sit down!” Jason cowers at his father’s anger as he sits on the couch. “If you weren’t my son, I’d have gotten rid of you for how sloppy you’ve been. That being said you still need to understand that there are consequences to your actions.” Looking past him, George addresses the darkness behind his son’s ear. “He’s all yours.”

Something sharp stings the gangster’s neck as his world begins to spin. 

“I trust whatever you come up with, Mr. Munson, the punishment will fit the crime.”

As you and Eddie come into view, Jason’s world goes dark.

#################

“Good morning, sunshine.”, Eddie jests as Jason’s eyes flutter open. “I wouldn’t wiggle too much if I were you. The view up here is pretty great but not when you’re falling down eight stories.”

The rival gangster’s eyes finally adjust to see the other man in front of him with you and Steve on either side. He tried to move but soon realized he was bound to a chair with duct tape over his mouth, completely at your mercy as he was perched near the edge of a tall building. 

“You know, I’m a fan of movies myself. The one thing my father and I could connect on was The Godfather trilogy. Did you ever see those, Jason?” The man’s only response is trying to tug at his restraints. “No? That’s ok. The third one is utter garbage but that second one. Oof…so good. There’s one line in there that always stood out to me. ‘Chiedi di me ai tuoi amici del quartiere. Ti diranno che so come ricambiare un favore.’”

Stepping forward with his hands in his pockets he continues. 

“It’s Italian. ‘Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me. They'll tell you I know how to return a favor.’”

The rival gangster’s eyes widen as Eddie kneels to his level, balancing on his heels as he speaks to him again is a soft tone laced subtle venom.

“You crossed a line, Carver. If it were up to me I would have killed you and your entire enterprise after hurting Steve and threatening Y/N. After the stunts you pulled this week, I almost did. You can thank this young lady here for talking me out of it.”

Jason’s eyes flick to your angry ones before looking at the other man again. 

“She also suggested we talk to your father which was a brilliant idea. He’s very levelheaded and kind of funny. Right, guys?”

“Hysterical. He thought what you did at the police station was so amusing he recommended I take you in and throw you in a cell with Allen since you miss him so much.”, Steve quipped with a smirk. 

“After blowing up my car and breaking into my apartment, he thought I should use some of things I learned at medical school as a punishment. Oddly enough, castration was the first thing to came to his mind. I told him I didn’t think you had any balls to remove since you were acting like a five-year-old.”, you add making Eddie’s smile widen. 

“He also suggested we make the punishment fit the crime thus you’re ours for the next week, buddy!” As the gangster lightly taps his face, Jason starts to cry. “But, Carver, I’m not going to do that. Do you know why? I’m not my father and I’m not like you. I don’t kill for pleasure and I don’t like hurting people. I want this to stop. But make no mistake…” Eddie reaches for Jason’s throat and squeezes it between his ringed fingers. “If you ever threaten or hurt these two again or even fucking think of coming on to my side of Hawkins, I will burn your side to the ground and make you regret ever being born let alone taking your father’s mantle. Am I being clear?”

Ripping away the tape his lips, the gangster squeaks as he continues to cry. 

“Yes! I understand. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Eddie.” After tapping his cheek again, Eddie turns taking your hand in his as you three head for the door to leave the roof of the building. “Hey! What about me?!”

“Oh, we’ll call the building super in the morning. Just…don’t lean back.”, Steve answers with a sarcastic thumbs up as the door closes behind him.

##################

You giggled in Eddie’s arms as he held you to him, kissing your lips with vigor as he carried you up the stairs with Steve trailing right behind. 

“You…are…amazing.”, he cooed between each breath as he fell with you onto the bed. 

“You really are.” Steve added as he threw himself beside you and began sucking on your neck. 

Ringed fingers glided hastily up the slit in your dress, moving the silk blocking your core, and effortlessly pushed into your entrance, pumping in and out so quickly the sound of your arousal filled the room. 

“Fuck, Eddie.”

“You got me so hard, sweetheart, watching the way you took control talking to George. Jesus and in that beautiful fucking dress.” Your hand floated down to cling to his as his digits inside of you moved at a relentless pace. “I had to keep telling myself to focus because all I wanted to do was push you against that wall and fuck you till you couldn’t walk straight.”

Steve gripped your chin turning you so your lips could meet his as the gangster’s head fell into the nook between your head and shoulder. 

“You’re a bad girl now, baby. OUR bad girl.”

“Tr-treat me like one.”

The officer chuckled at your needy tone as you panted into his mouth. 

“Yeah? You want us to show you how bad girls get treated?”

“P-Please…please. Fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“Ask nicely, Y/N.”

Leaning your head against the gangster’s, you murmured consistent pleas, begging for relief that he granted as the coil snapped and you practically screamed his name. Offering his fingers to his partner, Steve licked them clean before leaning over you so their lips could mingle together. 

After digging in one of his drawers, Eddie produced some handcuffs and passed them over to Steve who took hold of your wrists restraining you to the headboard. 

“These are my own set so they should feel more comfortable on your skin than his steel ones.”, Eddie grinned as he kissed your lips.

“Babe, you forgot to take off her dress.”

“Fuck, silly me.” Grabbing the slit in the fabric, he yanked it apart tearing it up the middle till it split in half and fell away. “There we go.”

“No bra, honey? Definitely bad girl behavior.”

“Eddie told me not to wear one.”, you whine as Steve’s gaze shifts his way. 

“What? I like her tits. Sue me.”

While Eddie removed his suit, the officer yanked down your panties and tossed them onto the floor while he kissed your lips. 

“I bet you want to suck my cock, don’t you dirty girl?”

“I do. Please.”

“I like that. Keep beginning me like that.”

Jumping back into bed, the gangster took hold of one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder before guiding his cock into your entrance.”

“Oh my god.”

Fingers circled tightly around your neck as your eyes met Steve’s anger filled ones. 

“I said beg me for my dick, little girl.”

“P-Please, Steve. I wanna—fuck, Eddie—I wanna choke on your cock. Please! I need it!”

Quickly, he unbuckled his belt and shimmied down his pants enough to free his length, allowing it to hover over your lips. 

“Tap three times loudly if you need to stop, ok?”

“Yes, yes sir.”

“Oh, look at that, Eds. Little girl found her manners.”

Eddie smirked as he continued to slam his hips into yours at a rough pace, his thick fingers digging into your thigh as he used it for leverage. 

Opening your mouth, you prepared for some the things they had been teaching you. Flattening your tongue you waited, mewling when he finally gave you what you were begging for. As his cock slid down your throat, his fingers tangled in your hair and you focused on the feeling as he slowly thrust his hips. 

“Good…good girl. That’s it. Shit, baby. That’s it. You’re almost taking all of me.” Feeling your body tremble, Steve holds you still, allowing you choke and gag around him as you cum. “Yes! You’re ok, baby. Just a couple more seconds.”

Tapping once, you signal you need air and he immediately pulls out to pet your head, murmuring praises as Eddie slows his rhythm to almost a complete stop as he caresses your leg comfortingly. 

“Good girl, honey. You did so fucking good. It took all my energy not to cum to but I want to cum inside your tight pussy, pretty girl. So beautiful. What color are we at, Y/N?”

“Green, baby. Green.”

At the word, the gangster lifts your other leg, pushing them together as he slowly thrusts his cock deep inside you. 

As your eyes roll back and you moan, Steve kisses away your tears before murmuring against your lips, “Do you still want my dick, baby girl? Do you want me to fuck your pretty little throat? Feel us both deep inside you. I wonder if I can feel myself here.”, he coos as he gently places his hand on your neck. “I know I can feel Eddie fucking you so good. Right, honey?”

His large palm trails down your skin till you feel him press on your lower belly making you whimper louder as your back arches and you tug on your restraints. 

“Yeah, he’s right here, nice and deep.”

Eddie grunts as his pace hastens, his partners words amping him up as Steve smiles. Lifting up on his knees once more, the officer holds his tip just above your lips, chuckling as your tongue needily reaches for him. 

“Don’t forget what we talked about. Tap if you need to breathe or stop, baby. I’m gonna fuck your throat hard, ok?”

“Y-Yes. Please—fuck—please.”

Sliding his dick into your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut as he did what he said, constantly hitting the back of your throat over and over as the obscene sound of you gagging and drooling filled their ears. Both men became almost feral at the noise, Eddie shaking the bed as he pounded into you and Steve tugging harshly on your hair while mumbling under his breath. 

“That’s it, little girl. Jesus. Your mouth feels so fucking good. Atta girl. Choke on my cock, you dirty little whore making a fucking mess. Mmm!”

Your legs abruptly hit the mattress as Eddie fell on top of you, wrapping his arms around your back as he rolled his hips into yours. The officer pulled back, stroking himself with his hand as he watched you both cum together. The gangster laid still trying to catch his breath as Steve reached down to play his hair.

“Fuck me. This pussy is too good.”, Eddie groaned as he sat up and lightly spanked your behind. “I’m glad it’s ours.” 

After pulling out of you, both men shared a passionate filled kiss as they switched places, Steve wiggling underneath you so your back was on his chest. While the officer ran his palms over your breasts and along your sides, Eddie took hold of his partners cock, spitting over the tip before running it between your folds, teasing you both as it grazed your clit. 

“Please.”, you whine.

Smirking, he did what you asked as the two of you groaned. Steve’s hands gripped your thighs, holding your legs open as he planted his feet into the mattress and thrust up into you. 

“Fuck.”

“God, sweetheart, I wish you could see you both from my angle.”, the gangster moaned as he watched his boyfriend’s cock disappear inside you as he stretched you open. “Fuck me. Stevie didn’t even have the patience to take off the rest of his clothes.”, he chuckles, faltering the man’s rhythm as Eddie tugs his pants that had been pooled at his ankles the rest of the way.

Dropping your legs, one of Steve’s hands pulled your hair back as his other roughly kneaded your breast. 

“Move your hips.”, he growled as you mewled, trying your best to bounce and roll your waist. “Harder, little girl. Make yourself cum again.” He continued to grumble with a rough tone in your ear, commanding you to move faster repeatedly while smacking your tits with his palm. Screaming his name, you stopped moving as your body shook against him and you pulled hard on the cuffs above you. “Atta girl. Fuck, I can feel your pussy quivering around me. You’re gonna give me one more and I’m gonna cum with you.”

“I…I can’t.”

“Color, princess?”, Eddie whispers as he presses his nose to your cheek. 

“Green.”, you mumble as the tears stream down your face. 

“Yeah? Fuck you look so beautiful like this with your make up running down like this. Fuck, baby. You can do it. You can give us one more.”

Steve starts moving again with purpose knowing he won’t last long and you most likely will spent after this. After licking his fingers, the long-haired man places them on your clit, rubbing circles into your nub as your sweaty head leans back while the other man clings to your waist.

“There you go, Y/N. Come on, baby! One more. You can do it!”, Eddie encourages, both men moving so fast you don’t even realize it’s coming till your orgasm hits you like a freight train. “Good girl! Good fucking girl.”

Circling his arms around you, Steve’s pace becomes sloppy till you feel him warm your insides as he grunts in your ear. 

“Please…please…no…no more. I can’t.”

“No, sweetheart. You did so good. I’m going to uncuff you ok?” You nod as the gangster releases you from your binds and you wince at your sore muscles as you slowly bring your arms down. Steve carefully turns you both onto your side before pulling out of you, mumbling soft apologies as he tries not to hurt you. “Whenever you’re ready, we’re going to take a bath, ok? It will feel good on your body.”

After a few minutes of them smiling tenderly at you as they caressed and kissed parts of your skin, you signaled you were ready and Eddie lifted you into his arms as Steve ran the water. Doing what had become the norm, the gangster lit a cigarette as he sat behind you on the edge of the tub with his feet in the water as he began to clean you. What was new was when the officer pulled a wet wipe from a bag and kneeled beside you to clean your face.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, um, makeup remover. I bought it a while ago before all the bullshit happened for when you spend the night with us. Chrissy said this was a good brand for girl’s skin but if you have another just let me know.” It took him a moment to realize you two were staring at him with small smiles on your lips. “What? Hey, I’m a nice guy!”

“Yes, you are, pretty boy.”, Eddie coos sassily as he leans over to give him a peck as the man rolls his eyes. 

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

His eyes remain downcast as he throws it away and places the bag on the counter. 

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. WE want to…want you to be comfortable…and happy. Are you? Happy I mean.”

Tilting his chin, you kiss his lips as well making his smile grow. 

“I am happy. Thank you for everything. It means a lot to me.”

Eddie’s already prepared when you lean your head back to kiss his lips as well making you giggle when he lingers making a loud mwah sound. 

“Just because we settled the stuff with Jason doesn’t mean I’m out of danger does it?”

Both men freeze in place as they blink before Steve climbs into the bath in front of you and Eddie slides in behind you.

“No, it doesn’t. There’s always going to be people that want to challenge me and just because we scared Carver doesn’t mean he won’t fuck up again.”

“And like I told you before, now that people know you’re with Eddie, it may cause some ears to perk up with the police which may put more eyes on you than you’re used to.”

“But, sweetheart, we promise you we will do everything we can to keep you safe. I’d hurt or kill to protect you just like with Steve.”

“And, honey, I would hide evidence or lie to anyone in the department to protect you. Not just from people but any kind of jail time.”

“You’re ours, Y/N, and we will take care of you no matter what.”

You can feel their eyes penetrate you as your own remain off to the side as you absorb what they are saying. 

Gently, fingers grip your chin, turning you to meet Steve’s soft honey hues.

“You can still leave if you want to. We can come up with a story to explain the party if you still want to have some…semblance of normalcy.”

“Whoa. Steve Harrington is breaking out the big words.”

You laughed at Eddie’s joke as the officer narrowed his eyes in playful annoyance.

“I don’t want to leave. I…”

You want to say it so bad. You want to tell them that you love them. But it’s only been a couple of months and they’ve been together for almost a year. No. You don’t want to scare them away after everything they just did to keep you safe. No…

“I…I trust you both.”

When you flash them a smile both men grin back as Eddie hugs you against his chest and Steve kisses your forehead.

##############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive @corrodedcoffincumslut @aactuaaltraash @nailbatanddungeon 

[galexystern]

all's fair in love and chicken

pairing; eddie munson/reader

rating; T

warnings; lots of fluff, a tiny bit of angst, love confessions, pining, getting together

word count; 2.1k

desc; robin and steve dare you and eddie to a game of girls vs. boys chicken. eddie has something up his sleeve that changes everything.

masterlist

The first thing you see after stepping inside the Harrington mansion is Robin looking guilty as sin. It makes you uneasy, and you immediately want to walk over and demand what the fuck that expression is for, but it’s the annual pool party bash and you’re carrying the first bottles of booze its seen and Steve is already ushering you to the backyard so you can set them down on the makeshift bar.

“Thank god you’re here,” he mutters under his breath. “People have been clamoring for drinks for half an hour.”

“Only like a fourth of them can legally drink,” you point out. When you reach the table, he helps you unload and set up so guests can pour their own concoction.

“And they’re bossy as fuck.”

You laugh, half-forgetting Robin’s mysterious guilt, and arrange the liquor just so. Steve excuses himself and runs into the house to get ice, and another boy almost instantly takes his place.

“Hey, princess,” Eddie says, surprising you and making you knock a bottle of vodka over. He deftly catches it and stands it upright.

You turn to him with a look. He’s grinning devilishly, loving that he spooked you. You’re notoriously easy to startle, and despite the fact that you’re secretly in love with him and have been for two years, the trick got old a long time ago. You hold back the smile threatening to bloom and narrow your eyes in annoyance. Eddie’s eyes get wider in response, doe-like, and his mouth turns down into the cutest pout. After a few seconds, you sigh and finally grin, forgiving him quickly. It’s a tried-and-true routine you two have done since you became friends.

“Hi, Eds,” you reply, hoping your lovesickness doesn’t ooze too obviously. You always think you sound so gooey, but he’s never picked up on it. This time is no different.

“Get you a drink?”

“Yes, please. Our usual.”

“One Munson Special coming up.”

You chuckle and take a few steps away to claim a free beach chair. You set your bag down and shuck off your clothes, stuffing them away. You test your bare feet on the concrete, but it’s too hot, so you keep your flip-flops on for now.

“Here you go–”

You spin around in concern as the end of Eddie’s sentence turns into a choked sound. You find him staring at you with huge eyes and a slightly open mouth. You move closer to him. “Are you okay?” You ask worriedly.

He blinks and then nods jerkily, practically throwing your cup at you. You avoid the liquid that splashes over the edge and take it carefully. You’re still looking at Eddie, unsure what could be wrong, but he just swallows and smiles reassuringly. “Something in my throat,” he explains, and you exhale in relief.

“Good. You can’t choke here otherwise Steve will be the one doing CPR.”

He barks out a laugh. “I’d sooner die.”

Your mouth twists, wanting to smile but holding back somewhat. “Be nice,” you chide half-heartedly. “He’s our friend now.”

He makes a disgruntled face. “I guess.” You look at him with petulant sternness and his expression softens. “I’ll try. Only for you, princess.”

Your heart flutters and you take a gulp of your drink to hide your quick breaths. He can’t just say things like that. He takes a sip as well, and you two settle into a comfortable silence. You take a look around the party, watching as the kids splash around and play Marco Polo in the pool, and eyeing as Steve and Robin bicker while she throws obvious longing glances at Vickie, who is sitting with her feet in the water and both pretending not to notice and trying not to blush. Nancy and Jonathan are sitting in the hot tub, having what seems to be a lively discussion with Jeff, Grant, and Gareth. Hopper, Joyce, and the rest of the adults are at the back, manning the grill and pointedly avoiding the shenanigans everyone else is getting into.

You turn back to Eddie to find him looking at you. Your head rears back a little, not expecting his gaze, and he quickly averts his eyes and takes a drink. A light blush spreads across his cheeks and towards his ears. You want to pull his hair away from his face to see if the tips are red as well, but keep your hands to yourself.

You’re admiring how tan he’s looking, the deep tone of his skin gleaming golden, when Robin shouts your name from across the patio. Both you and Eddie turn towards her; she’s speed-walking over with an annoyed Steve in tow. “Dingus here thinks we can’t beat him and Eddie in chicken,” she says when she arrives.

You blink. “What?”

“The game chicken, where two people fight while on the shoulders of other people?”

“Okay,” you reply slowly.

“Steve thinks boys would ‘obviously’ win over girls.” You raise your eyebrows at him and he shrugs, shy now that his and Robin’s argument has involved more than just them. Robin continues, “‘Obviously’ he’s wrong. But he won’t accept it until you and Eddie actually join us for a round.”

You glance at Eddie, who shoots you a grin. “I’m down if you are, princess,” he says cheekily.

At his smug tone, your competitive spirit comes alive. You look at Robin and nod. “Let’s wipe the floor with them.”

She whoops and drags you both to the pool. She and Steve slide in and stand at the edge so you and Eddie can sit on their shoulders. There’s a lump in your throat when you swallow; you didn’t think it’d be you two on top and fighting so close. But you can’t back out now, so you just focus on balancing as Robin walks further in.

She turns and there Eddie is, smiling mischievously, surprisingly stable atop Steve. His eyes sparkle in the sun and his tattoos stand out like they’re three-dimensional. You lock stares, and he runs a finger across his neck in a threat. Your eyes narrow as you mouth, You’re going down.

“Alright, are we ready?” Steve asks, sickly sweet. It’s purely for Robin’s sake, and she immediately replies, “Go!”

You lunge forward and grab Eddie’s biceps, his hands clamping onto yours. You grapple, pushing and pulling in any effort to destabilize the other, Robin and Steve compensating for your movements below. It’s a tough battle, but at some point, you’re leaning all the way into Eddie’s space and he’s precariously teetering backwards. You feel a triumphant smile start to form when he does the unexpected.

He kisses you.

It’s a soft, short peck, but it shocks you so much that you fall back, all the way off Robin’s shoulders and into the water. Once you’re submerged, it’s like time slows down, and you try to comprehend that Eddie just kissed you. 

Eddie kissed you.

All to win this stupid game.

“That was definitely cheating!” Robin is yelling when you surface, inhaling oxygen desperately and pushing your hair out of your face.

“It was not!” Steve shouts back. “All’s fair!”

The two continue to argue, and you look at Eddie. He’s mysteriously quiet but half-grinning, and your fury grows. You stalk away–as much as you can while underwater–and pull yourself out of the pool. You detour to your chair to grab your towel, and then you’re racing inside, up the stairs to Steve’s guest room, where you’ve stayed a couple times after late nights. You slam the door shut behind you and sit on the bed, not caring if you’re dripping on the duvet.

You’re shaken and upset, and you can’t believe Eddie would do something like that to win a game of chicken. If you didn’t like him romantically, it would be misleading and give the wrong idea, and Robin was right–it is cheating.

A knock comes on the door, and it slowly swings open to reveal the man himself. “Princess? Are you okay?” You just glare at him in response, and he steps inside and closes the door behind him. “What’s wrong? Did you inhale water?”

If you weren’t so upset, you’d be touched by his concern. “You’re a fucking asshole,” you seethe. “I can’t believe you would do that just to win. That’s such gross bro behavior.”

He’s wide-eyed. “What? No, I’d never do that.”

“You just did!”

“No!” He runs a hand over his face. “That’s not why I did it.”

“Then why?” You grit out.

“Well, Robin told me that you liked me–”

You suddenly remember Robin’s face from the beginning of the party and understand. She’d blabbed to Eddie that you were in love with him and felt guilty for doing so. Well, she fucking should.

“That’s worse!” Your face burns in embarrassment and anger. “You used my feelings against me to win instead. Real nice.”

“Will you listen to me?” Eddie pleads. “I didn’t believe her, you’re way out of my league, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And when we were playing, you were so close and you smelled so good and your lips looked so nice, I couldn’t help myself and kissed you.” His entire face is tomato red. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you lose. I wasn’t even thinking about the game, just you.”

“I don’t understand. Are you saying you like me now?”

“Now? I’ve been in love with you for two years, princess. I just didn’t think you’d like me back.”

You stare at him. “What?”

“Yeah.” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I can leave.”

But before he can turn away, you’re leaping forward and pulling him into a heated kiss. He’s surprised by it, stiff and still, and you think wildly that you’ve finally gotten him back for scaring you all those times. Eventually, his brain catches up and he melts, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. His lips are soft and warm, and it’s leagues better than the kiss in the pool, and you don’t want to stop but you’ve gotta breathe at some point. You two break apart panting, gazing at each other for a minute until you both burst into laughter. Your foreheads meet as you shake with it, and when the giggles fade away you’re still resting against each other.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell him fondly, and he chuckles. “I’ve been in love with you for two years too. I thought I was so obvious about it.”

“No, you’re right. I’m just an idiot,” he replies, making you snort. “But I could tell after Robin told me.”

“That doesn’t count! If she hadn’t, you still wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You’re about to argue some more when he captures your mouth again, and you sink into the kiss. You run your hands through his hair, pulling inadvertently, and he moans a little. You pull away with a smile, hands poised to do it again, but he holds them still.

“Don’t give me a boner at a pool party,” he begs. “I’d never live it down.”

You laugh. “Alright. Only for you, Eds.”

He smiles softly. “I love you, princess.”

“I love you too,” you reply with heart eyes at full power.

He steps back. “We really gotta go back now, or I will have a boner for the rest of the night.”

You shake your head with a grin and take his outstretched hand. You two walk downstairs and out to the backyard, where the festivities are in full swing. Steve and Robin are near the doors, still bickering. When she spots you, she gasps your name.

“Are you okay?” She asks worriedly.

You nod. “I’m fine. But we will be talking later.” She blushes and that guilty expression returns. But then she sees your hand intertwined with Eddie’s and it retreats somewhat. She smiles triumphantly, and you can already tell your stern talking-to will go in one ear and out the other. “And,” you continue, “I want a rematch.”

“Let’s do it!” Eddie shouts and pulls you towards the pool. He pushes you in, but you hold tight to his hand and drag him under with you. Once Steve and Robin have joined, you maneuver yourselves on their shoulders. You and Eddie make playful threatening motions, you wrestle heatedly, and then there’s cheering from you and Robin as the boys topple backwards into the water. They surface, spluttering from the impact, and Eddie immediately goes after you. You screech with laughter as you weakly attempt to run from him, and he catches you around the waist and lifts you above the water. You squeal with the movement, and after lowering you, he kisses you. You beam with love in the summer sun.

[keeksandgigz]

thinking of eddie begging you to let him try his new magic trick out on you. he’s been practicing it for weeks and he finally has perfected it. only he accidentally grabs his set of real handcuffs instead of the trick ones…

i took the sub eddie route because i love my whiny pathetic boy

based off of this post- this is for @strangerstilinski specifically cause <333

THIS IS 18+ MINORS DNI

“baby c’mon lemme show you! i’ve been practicing on it i can get myself outta these handcuffs in under 30 seconds” your boy whines as he follows you around his trailer, trick handcuffs in hand, clinking his other every step.

you groan, it’s been days he’s been pressuring you to look at his tricks. with an eye roll you mutter out a “fine” as you sit yourself down at the table.

he likes doing his tricks on the floor, and so he’s kneeled on the carpeted ground, hands behind his back as the clicks the handcuffs around his wrists.

you can’t help but notice the sight in front of you. he’s pretty as his tongue sticks out, working the handcuffs to try to get out of his confinements. biceps bulging through the short sleeves of his shirt, cheeks turning hot as panic stains his eyes.

“fuck- shit” he huffs, at the realization that his trick has gone wrong.

“what’s wrong, Houdini?” you tease, blood running hot at his reddened face.

“baby- i uhhh- do you remember where i put the keys to the handcuffs? the other ones” he huffs “i- shit- i got them confused, please lemme out” he whines, wiggling on his knees.

“stop struggling, ed. it’s gonna hurt your wrists” voice laced in sugar as you reach for him, gather his hair to the back of his head and pull.

A loud whine escapes the boy’s throat, low and rumbled in the depth of his chest as he feels himself stir in the tightness of his pants.

“y’know what? i think i like you like this, ed. so, so pretty” you croon, hooking the curve of your ankle on his shoulder, behind his neck. brown eyes, as a doe looking up at you, shadowed by the bangs on his beaded forehead.

you let your foot guide him, closer and closer to your parted legs. his mouth gaped in silent stupor, his breath quietly hitching in his own throat with the desire to smell you, feel you, taste you.

the bite of the metal cuffs isn’t bothering him anymore, as he looks at the wet patch on your panties from under your skirt. lips parted and swollen and awaiting, as he inhales, then exhales, a stirring deep in his tummy.

it pushes and pulls, the desire to let himself be used, his bewildered face coming closer and closer, smelling you so strongly it’s making him confused.

a strangled plea falls out of his mouth, throwing all caution out of the window as he finally presses his nose to your clothed mound and inhales. all he ever needed is right in front of him.

“why don’t you do a magic trick on me, baby?”

and he looks at you like you just hung the moon for him. big brown eyes, sparkling in the dim fluorescents of his trailer, your smell intoxicating him as he hums and nods.

"please baby let me- let me taste you, i'll make you feel so good" he exhales, glassy eyes as he tries to teeth and lip his way past your panties to no avail. without his hands to aid him, his tongue of gold is nothing but a useless muscle.

he does whatever he can to feel you, though, sucking purple bruises across the flushed skin of your thighs, quivering with the anticipation that you don't let yourself fall victim to just yet, slightly bucking your hips into the air, looking for friction in the thin fabric of your cotton panties rather than the plush softness of his lips.

you play the waiting game for as long as you can, until you dare the boy to take your panties off with his teeth. clumsily he does, maybe tearing the cotton from the lacy lining as he spits them out on the carpet floor and dives himself on you like a man starved.

eyes rolled to the back of his head as he revels in the taste of you, so cruelly denied to him as soft moans and whimpers escape him, rumbling against you with such overwhelming power that you can't help but grind yourself on him, coating eddie's chin, cheeks and nose with slick.

wondering where the hell he got so lucky to get a woman so angelic and yet so devil like that will fuck him after a failed attempt at a magic trick. what he doesn't know is that his magic tricks only turn you on further.

[mammalsofaction]

SIKE! GET LOVED IDIOT

Rating: G

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz & Perry the Platypus, Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: fix it fic, rewrite the unmentionable chibiverse episode, the destiel-fication of Perryshmirtz, this is an excuse for me showeing Heinz with love and aftercare.

AN: Many thanks to my lovely, sleepy beta @agentlizardofowca, who sent me the video through discord so it could be the first thing i would see upon waking up so we could both yell at each other about it. They fucking destiel-ed him.

---

"Perry the Platypus!"

There is a brief, but meaningful applause as he descends in appropriately melodramatic way. The stage is well built, and the mic doesn't screech. Perry keeps an eye on the prize, even as he swallows the given pill.

Heinz looks…wary. He did not, at least, have his arms crossed, but over the course of the last few hours Perry notices how he's grown to hunch further into himself, curling into his seat. His brows were deeply furrowed, like he was waiting to be physically hit at any moment, which still might be likely.

The pill goes down smooth as butter. There is a discernible electrical buzz, from his insides. As he coughs, he expects himself to belch smoke. Instead, as he approaches the mic, he speaks with a voice that was his-and-not-his-own.

"Well, hello there!"

Heinz yells in disbelief. Perry blinks.

"Oh, that is weird, hearing you speak,"

It's an even weirder sensation, Perry thinks, to be able have Heinz firmly understand him speak. He grips the edges of the podium tightly, then forcibly relaxes.

"Heinz," he laughs nervously. It still sounds like it came from someone else. "What can I say, about my greatest frenemy? I'd take my hat off to you, but then you'd have no idea who I am,"

A chorus of laughter follows . Heinz harrumphed, briefly looking away to stubbornly insist that he "Doesn't get it." But Perry does not miss the distrustful twitch of his lips.

God he can't do this. Perry takes in a deep breath.

"There are many things you continue to surprise me about, my friend," Perry continues, and he watches in real time as Heinz both blooms and flinches in anticipation of his next words. "But most astonishingly is how you…can twist your mind into such horrible directions."

A confused silence ensues. Someone yells out a demanding "What?" that breaks the man's confused daze.

"Yeah, what?" Asked the man of the hour. "Are you saying I think in a really evil way, or are you just calling me dumb?"

The former, Perry knows, would be a compliment the man sorely needs, but it would not be an accurate one.

Perry isn't interested in playing this stupid game. "Neither. Heinz, look around you. Don't you see?" Perry's mouth pursed tightly. "You are surrounded by friends."

There is a perceptible change in the air, punctuated by muttering and distressed whispering. Perry exhales loudly. "Do you really think all of us genuinely think so lowly of you?"

Heinz scowls, confused. His eyes dart to and fro, but they eventually land back to him. They always do.

"Some friends. I don't have any friends.That's half the point we've been making all day."

"I'm your friend." Perry says, a little desperately, but it isn't about him. "Heinz, you insist that the people you surround yourself with think of you in ways you already think of yourself in that too big brain of yours, that you don't see the affection and respect of the people who like having you around. This event is your idea. Do you think people would have thought about anything cruel we've said if you hadn't said you wanted to hear it? "

" There were plenty of volunteers."

"We're an outgoing group who like to help one another! Heinz, look," Perry scowls back. "I don't agree with everything Darcy said, but she was right about one thing. Your biggest enemy is, and always has been, yourself. You tend to think of yourself as a being a failure, as being hated. But that isn't true."

"Yeah!" Marcy yells helpfully from the crowd, followed by some pointed hushing. She doesn't seem to notice. "I do actually think you're talented, Dr. D!"

"I think you're really fun!" Someone adds.

"You always know when to stop when we ask."

"You really rock a labcoat, too, Dr. D!"

"I actually like your shoulders!"

The auditorium grows loud, as more and more chibis cheerfully add their kind, honest opinions of the man in the throne. It seems to throw him off, and he looks panicked, shocked, and heartbreakingly, astoundingly confused.

"Wait, WAIT! Everybody STOP. You guys were supposed to make fun of me!"

"We can keep making fun of you if you like, Dr. Doof." Star answers happily. " If you want, but it's all in good fun, right?"

"That doesn't mean we don't think you're also really cool, Dr D. " Mabel adds cheerfully. She has her little piglet in her arms, rocking him affectionately back and forth. " I do it with my brother all the time! I still love him to bits and bits."

From behind one camera, Dipper makes an embarrassed sound. He's still smiling, and Mabel comes around to tug him into a hug, sandwiching Waddles in the middle.

"But that-," Heinz began to sputter indignantly. Somewhere far below, there is a grinding, whining noise. Perry frowns. "But you-! But what about-what about-what about my, hey, what about my doctorate, huh? I bought it off the internet for 15 bucks! My teachers hated me! Im not actually a Doctor."

"We both know you never needed one to prove yourself more than capable of breaking the laws of physics on the daily." Perry chirps drily. There is another chorus of laughter for the not-quite-insult. "And I'm the last person to make fun of you for enjoying a spot of alliteration. Hello, Perry the Platypus?"

"Hey!" Heinz shouts, as the crowd continues to giggle. "This is my roast! Get in line!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Perry coughs into his fist, hiding a smile. " Where were we? Ah, yes, embarrassing you."

Heinz harrumphed, slouching back down into his seat in the assumption that the self loathing party was about to continue apace. Perry clears his throat. "Let's talk about how much you love your daughter."

Heinz shoots straight up, hands clenched into the sides of his seat. He looks, for a second, genuinely hurt, and angry. But Perry meets his gaze dead on, and the man eventually unclenches himself enough to speak, taking a deep breath as he looks away. "Fine. Fine. Whatever. There's nothing you're about to say that will make me feel even a little bit ashamed of how much I love my Vanessa."

"Yes, that is quite the pickle, isn't it? You, Heinz Doofenshmirtz," his voice turns soft despite his best efforts, feeling his cheeks burn fondly in reminiscence. "Are one of the strongest, kindest, sweetest parents I have ever had the pleasure to meet in my life."

Heinz blinks, caught off guard once again as the crowd goes "Awww,"

"You are embarassingly loving, you never let yourself forget the things she tells you she enjoys, even if they're gifts she asked for when she was barely a child. You are protective and vindictive of anything that could possibly come to hurt her, and you have never, ever, ever once forgotten to throw her a birthday, even when you've never had a decent one yourself in all your life,"

And finally, finally, Heinz blushes. A tint of red for being pleasantly flustered instead of the ashamed flush from before. The chibis laugh, coo and yell in playful disgust. Perry smiles smugly, pleased for having turned the tide of the event on its head.

From beneath their feet, the rumble grows, and the whining increases in fever pitch. Chibis begin to jump in surprise, the sounds of joy and celebration turning into ones of distress. Quite tellingly, Heinz looks perfectly unbothered, arms crossed petulantly. Perry raises an eyebrow.

There is a distant boom, muffled by a safe wall of dirt. One part of the stands collapses in on itself, and the chibis get off of it hurriedly. There is an ensuing silence.

Perry and Heinz had not, even once, looked away from one another. Perry leans on his elbow on the podium, raising his second eyebrow. Heinz slumps down his seat.

"Fine. I had an inator that was being charged by the negative energy of insults to take over the chibiverse, yada yada yada. It was supposed to be Platypus proof, because I didn't have time to put a self-destruct button. You jammed the energy input and made it explode by calling me nice things, happy?"

"Delirious." Perry answers, as the crowd cheers in celebration, another scheme thwarted, and another day saved.

The crowd climbs the stage in droves, chanting his name. Perry lets them have their fun, though he's not particularly enjoying being thrown into the air and carried over their heads, off the stage, to the backstage buffet.

He slinks off the second he was able to get away with it, to where Heinz was still curled on the throne in the auditorium hall, scribbling into his inventions book. He's not noticed Perry approaching, peeking over his shoulder to see he was already brainstorming his next scheme for molecular chibiverse domination, muttering angrily to himself.

"-tupid to think he actually meant what he was saying, I should've kept my lid on the plan better, hide my blueprints-,"

"I did, you know." Perry interrupts, and Heinz jumped, clutching the notebook close to his chest. "Meant them, I mean."

Heinz sighs gustily, posing like he's meant to retort something clever, but he's not sure what it is, yet. To render Heinz Doofenshmirtz speechless was no easy feat, adding another tally to Perry's accomplishments this day.

Not that he was ever unappreciative of Heinz's chatty nature.

After opening his mouth and closing it a couple more times, the doctor blurts; "I don't think I'll ever get used to that. You, talking, I mean."

Perry shrugs, self-conscious. Heinz adds, hurriedly, "I didn't say I didn't like it."

Perry tilts his head in question.

"I'll get used to it," Heinz assures, a bit shyly. It's making Perry blush too.

The agent shakes his head. " I don't think…, "

Heinz frowns. "You don't like it? "

Perry shrugs. "I don't need it. " He looks down. "I have you. "

He's not looking, so he isn't able to tell what expression Heinz might be wearing in the following silence.

Heinz breaks it eventually. "You keep doing this, you know?"

When Perry looks up, Heinz had donned a poorly executed scowl. It makes him smile. "Reminding me about the good things. Call me nice, I mean. That's not right. It's ruining my street cred."

The idea of Heinz having a street cred makes him laugh, and even if he does not enjoy most of the actual talking for now, this was nice. Laughing together, and being able to communicate, thoroughly and well, what exactly he adored of his best friend, uninhibited of Heinz's own self-esteem issues.

I love you, Perry wants to say, desperately. He wants to say it more than anything in the world, but even with all the communicative technology at his disposal, he is still hesitant, still scared, of putting his vulnerability into words.

Later, he keeps telling himself. Soon. Eventually. He reaches out to hold Heinz's hand in his own, leadened with all the words he can't bring himself to say.

Heinz smiles, and squeezes like he understands him anyway. Like Perry would have all the time in the world.

It can wait.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 26th:  Corroded Coffin | I Wanna Be Somebody - W.A.S.P. | Hopeful a/n: descriptions of anxiety & grounding, rockstar!eddie, supportive!uncle wayne, established steddie. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

Corroded Coffin gets its first gig outside of Gareth’s garage on a random Tuesday in October 1985. 

It’s a small place, a true hole in the wall, the exact kind of place Eddie Munson imagines James Hetfield might’ve seen back in Metallica’s earliest days. There are maybe five people in the crowd outside of the bartender and servers, but those are five more people than have ever heard them play before. 

Jeff, Freak, and Gareth are goofing around backstage, tuning instruments, pushing and shoving playfully, the excitement palpable. Eddie wants to join in but his heart and his stomach seem to have swapped places. Nauseous, shaky, and terrified, he can’t bring himself to shake it off with his friends and finds himself sitting in the corner, back to the wall. 

An apt metaphor, really. 

He feels caged, stuck, panicked– a lion trapped in too small of a space if the lion was also secretly afraid of its one and only concrete talent being judged as not good enough by strangers. 

“Alright, Ed, take a breath with me, okay?” Wayne appears out of nowhere, grunting as he sits on the grody floor next to Eddie. 

A familiar, calloused hand gently pulls Eddie’s fingers out of his hair, a position he doesn’t realize he’s in until Wayne pulls him out of it. He turns to face his Uncle and breathes with him the same way he had as an anxious little kid before the talent show, as the new kid in school, as the now fledgling adult who still needs comfort, reputation and appearance be damned. 

Eddie closes his eyes and lets Wayne squeeze his hand to cute inhalation and exhalation. One day, he’ll think to ask him where the fuck he got that from, but not today. Today, he needs to calm down enough to perform with his friends. 

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

“Feelin’ better?” Wayne asks, patting Eddie’s knee with his free hand. 

Eddie nods and lets his eyes flutter open. It feels like waking up as he adjusts back to the noise and light he’d managed to tune out. “I think so, yeah. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so scared as shit but yeah. Not okay.” 

Wayne scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s your first show, Ed. ‘S alright to be a little keyed up. You’re gonna be fine though, just go out there and have fun with it.” 

“You’ll stay for the show?” Eddie asks, a little more hopeful. Seeing Wayne in the audience during the talent show all those years ago set his nerves at ease. Seeing Wayne in the audience at The Hideout might do the same. 

“Nah, figured I’d just stop by to talk you off the ledge and head on home. Of course I’m stayin’, what kinda Uncle do you think I am?” 

Eddie and Corroded Coffin play their first gig to a crowd of about five drunks and one Uncle Wayne. It’s not perfect– Eddie trips over a microphone wire at least once and they each miss a cue here and there– but they finish to applause. The loudest of which comes from Uncle Wayne. 

—

Over the years, Corroded Coffin ebbs and flows. When Eddie nearly dies, the band does too for a bit but, like Eddie, reanimates after some left dormant. The members stay the same, the name stays the same, the sound stays the same. What changes is the audience. 

Apparently, the metal community is very interested in Eddie’s Lazarus-adjacent story coupled with wrongful accusations and a suburban witch hunt. Interested enough for the band to start getting noticed. The Hideout turns into The Vogue, and then the Old National Centre, and then the TCU Amphitheater. At each one, Eddie feels the same nerves he had at their first gig, and maybe even a bit more so now with his Upside Down injuries always at the back of his mind. 

What if I pull something?

What if my leg gives out?

What if– 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, leaning against the wall next to Eddie. “It’s gonna be okay, you know that, right?” 

Eddie nods and chews on the piece of hair he’s pulled in front of his face. 

He doesn’t know that, actually, but it’s not something he wants to rehash right now. Besides, Steve more than anyone can understand his running monologue more than most. He’d been there, been the one to carry him out, and since they started dating, has been the one to lull him back to sleep when the memories jar him awake. 

But Wayne’s not here yet, probably stuck in traffic after leaving the factory early for the show, and Eddie doesn’t know how to prepare for a show without his guided breathing. 

Every rockstar has a ritual, and that’s his. 

“I know I’m no Wayne but, wanna try breathing with me?” Steve offers with a sheepish smile. 

He nods again, still silent, and breathes. This time, softer hands holding his and cueing his inhalations and exhalations. It’s not the same, but it’s something. Enough to calm his racing heart to the point of words and with a shout from Jeff and a kiss from Steve, he takes the biggest stage he’s played yet. 

Halfway through their set, Eddie sees movement in the corner of his eye and when he dares a glance, he sees Uncle Wayne standing next to Steve in his dusty flannel with a beaming smile. 

The nerves disappear. 

[flowercrowngods]

who did this to you for wip weekend, please?

thank you for asking for my whumpy boys 🫶

who did this to you | part 1 here preceding snippets: 1st • 2nd • 3rd • 4th

He lets him ramble, lets him repeat the number until the words slur together and he can’t separate a four from a nine anymore. Each time Harrington hesitates, each time he stumbles over the words or forgets a digit, Eddie wants to punch the wheel. 

He doesn’t. He only grips it tighter and counts down the turns he takes, the streets he passes, the fucking trees that are familiar, before, finally, the trailer park comes into view. 

The sob Eddie lets out when, with shaking, trembling hands he pulls up to his trailer to find his uncle having a smoke on their porch is deafening to his ears after the quiet weakness of Harrington’s voice. 

It startles him, makes him sit up straighter when Eddie finally kills the engine. For a moment, without the steady, rolling hum, the car is filled with the small, tiny whines Steve makes on each exhale. 

“Wh’s wrong?” He asks, but Eddie can’t really hear him. Can’t turn to him, can’t— “Eddie?” 

He’s out of the car before he can take hold of another thought, stumbling out of his open door on legs that feel numb and heavy. The urge to cry is back again, the burning in his eyes only getting worse when Wayne takes in the dried blood on his clothes and hands. 

“Ed?” 

“I didn’t know what— where— I’m… Wayne, I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, kid, slow down,” Wayne says, raising his hands as if to calm a spooked deer. Like Eddie is the one who needs his help. 

Wayne grabs him by the shoulders to keep him still, grounding, and only now does Eddie realise he’s shaking again, restlessly moving his weight from one leg to the other. About to vibrate out of his skin.

“You in trouble?” 

“No,” Eddie scrambles to say, becoming aware of what this looks like. “‘S not my blood, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I swear. It’s, uh. I just found him. In the boathouse, I found him, and he was… God, he looked so bad, okay, but he didn’t want the hospital, and he was, like, so scared of something, and I didn’t know what to do, and you know something about concussions and people who were beat to shit and, again, I’m—“ 

“Eddie,” Wayne says, his voice so calm but so assertive that Eddie shuts up immediately, gladly handing over to controls to his uncle now. “Who’s the kid?” 

He nods towards Eddie’s van, where Harrington looks to be halfway unbuckled, but his eyes are closed and his face smushed against the door again. 

“Shit,” Eddie says, adrenaline and panic slowly falling from him with Wayne’s hand on his shoulder. “It’s Steve. Uh, Harrington, I mean.” 

“Okay,” Wayne says, and he’s so calm. So calm. Eddie feels like he’s about to fall apart, and Wayne is the only one keeping him together, with that steady, warm hand on his shoulder. “Okay. You did good, kid, okay? You did good. Now help me get him out of that car.” 

🤍🌷 wip weekend | make me write (please)