#sketti speaks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daddy-dins-girl · 6 days

Text

Playdate - Chapter Ten

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 7.4k

Chapter Summary: Of all the ways you managed to dream up in your head about seeing Dave again, this was never how you would have imagined it actually playing out.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. (SPOILERS IN THE TAGS!) Angst. Alcohol consumption. Brief violence and mentions of blood. Dave's feelings deserve their own warning 🫠. Dave's idiocy also deserves its own warning (we're working on him okay?). Dave gets a little pushy/forceful/needy with Reader but there's no actual threat or non-con, but figured I should mention it (you are held against a wall at one point but never physically hurt or threatened). Mentioned smut (including sex toys, anal play, light bondage, etc.).

HUGE thank you to @janaispunk for beta'ing and just being amazing in general 💜

Notes: This chapter starts off with Dave's POV and switches to Reader, I just figured we could use a little insight into Dave.

~ DAVE ~

Knelt down on one knee on the lawn of his ex-wife’s house, Dave could give a shit about the wet grass stain he could feel seeping into the denim of his jeans as he wrapped his arms a little tighter around both his girls, giving them one final goodbye hug. He pulls back slightly, frowning when he sees their wet faces staring back at him. He has to swallow the hard lump in his throat to hold back his own tears that want to fall so he can be strong for them so instead he plasters on the best smile he can manage and brings both hands up to ruffle the hair on both their heads.

“Don’t be sad Angels, I’ll see you again in two weeks okay?” he assures them and they both slowly nod their heads. He knew it would be hard dropping them off today after having them for the entire summer, not only for them but for him as well. It was going to be difficult to go from seeing them every day back to once every two weeks. Not to mention he was now saying goodbye to the only distraction in his life that was holding him together these past couple of months.

“I miss you already Daddy,” his youngest, Alice pouts before her chubby little arms wrap around his neck once more and squeeze. Dave lets out a little chuckle and hugs her back tightly before pressing a kiss into her hair.

“I miss you too, babies,” he sighs.

“Why don’t you girls go inside and wash up now,” his ex-wife Carol finally speaks up from up on the porch at the front door. “Dinner’s almost ready. Steve’s making your favorite,” she announces and both girls' faces light up like kids at Christmas as they finally pull away from their father.

“Sketti and meatballs!” Alice shouts excitedly.

“Bye Daddy,” his oldest, Molly, says one final time, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she takes her younger sister by the hand and leads her up the porch steps and they disappear into the house.

“Said the magic words huh?” Dave chuckles, standing up to his feet and dusting off his jeans.

“Sketti and meatballs” Carol shrugs, a fond smile on her lips. “You look good,” she says after a moment. “Better than the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, well…” Dave trails off, not wanting to get into why he came to her all but desperate a couple of months ago to let him take their children for an extended summer vacation. “Thanks again, I had a really great time with them.”

“Of course,” she nods. “Did you want to stay for dinner? I’m sure Steve made enough to feed an army. God knows I love him but that man can’t measure pasta to save his life,” she jokes of her new husband and Dave lets out a small chuckle but shakes his head.

“I should probably get going, let you guys have your family dinner.”

“Ok well… the usual time then? Two Saturdays from now?” she asks and Dave nods.

“I’ll be here.”

“Okay. And Dave?” she says just as he turns to head back to the driveway.

“Yeah?” he answers, turning back to face her.

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Sure,” he smiles, unconvincing even to himself before he heads down the driveway and gets into his car.

He hadn’t been very candid with her about why he suddenly needed to “get away” and wanted to take his kids on an impromptu summer vacation, but she read him like a book anyway. “What’s her name?” is all she’d asked when he’d shown up on her doorstep a couple of months ago looking tired and distracted. “Doesn’t matter” he’d carelessly shrugged back, not meeting her gaze. Carol had pursed her lips and hummed her agreement but otherwise didn’t push. She knew better. Dave wasn’t exactly one for expressing his feelings, even when they’d been married.

The weeks that follow since bringing his kids back to their mother seem to pass by in a blur as he throws himself full force back into his work, even working on the weekends that he’s not with his kids, mostly as a distraction rather than a necessity. He doesn’t want to be reminded of what his Saturday nights used to be, before. And despite his ex-wife’s wishes he knows he’s not taking proper care of himself. He’s working too much, drinking too much (apart from the days when he has his children of course) and certainly not eating enough. He feels pathetic. Like some lovesick puppy and it’s definitely not a feeling he’s used to. Hell, he didn’t even feel like this when he got divorced or when his now ex-wife got remarried. He bought them a damn wedding present and danced with his daughters standing on his feet at the reception hall. Not that he was thrilled to be a divorced Dad or anything, but he couldn’t argue with Carol when she told him he wasn’t giving her enough of himself. He did feel like shit for months after the separation but after a while it faded and he was able to carve out a new life for himself and he was fine. Happy might have been a stretch, but he was existing just fine.

He of course hadn’t expected you and your husband to turn up barely a year later and turn his whole life upside for several months. It had started out as just fun. Blowing off steam, getting his dick wet, he was far from complaining about any of it. He loved how obedient you both were to him immediately, filling a void in him that he hadn’t engaged in nearly as much as he wanted to. Sure he’d had some rough fucks in his day but that was different than what he had with you. Having a partner - partners - that you built a trust with just brought everything to a new, heightened level and that, well, he hadn’t quite experienced before. But along with trust, of course other feelings start to emerge, feelings Dave had long since given up on expecting to have at this point in his life. And having these feelings for a fucking already married couple did not help his situation any. It was a mistake, he realizes in hindsight, spending your birthday with you both. An entire weekend wrapped up with you, spending the night together, waking up together, having meals together, it was… well, for Dave, it was everything. Everything he never even knew he was looking for and of fucking course he had to find it with two people who already had each other.

And now? Now what the fuck was he doing? Drowning his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of overpriced bourbon at a bar, by himself, on a Friday night. Just like he’s found himself the past countless Friday nights, hoping he’d wake up the next morning and be able to forget about the two people who had apparently taken up permanent residence in the tight cavity of his chest, refusing to be let go.

He was fucking pathetic. And probably needed to get laid, too. That was one thing he could surely do something about easily enough. He’s been coming to this same bar every Friday night for a month now and one cute waitress in particular never seemed to stray very far from his table and he wasn’t that great of a tipper. He’d barely managed a second glance in her direction his past few visits but maybe tonight he should change that. The drinking wasn’t enough of a distraction anymore and this week was his off-week from seeing his kids so he didn’t have that to keep himself occupied either.

Mind made up he signals the waitress over to his table - whatever her name was. She’d told him probably a dozen times but fuck if he could remember it. It didn’t matter, after tonight he doesn’t plan on seeing her again and he’ll make sure she understands that before he actually leaves with her. For now, what’s the harm in a little fun? A decent pair of tits and a tight pussy is all he needs to get his head back on straight he thinks. And judging by the way the waitress basically comes bouncing over to him the moment he waves her over, it isn’t going to be much of a challenge. The only challenge for Dave will be when he closes his eyes as he sinks inside her, hoping, praying that it’s no longer the image of you that’s emblazoned on the backs of his eyelids.

~ YOU ~

It’s been nearly four months since your birthday. Since you last saw him.

In the time since that first weekend after Dave had disappeared from your lives, you and Marcus had found your rhythm again. Your lives are back to normal and, realistically, maybe even better than they’ve ever been. You were communicating so much more now and your physical relationship (which, you’d never had much of an issue with to begin with) was definitely thriving. Due to the increased communication, the two of you were always not only willing, but eager to talk more while in bed about anything you were particularly craving and put in the effort together for each other. It had really started the night Marcus had taken charge (a week after your birthday) and fully blossomed from there. There was one Sunday morning back a few months ago where the two of you laid in bed together with your laptop in front of you and were online shopping for fun new sex toys you both might enjoy. You filled your cart without judgment or shame and Marcus hastily typed in his credit card information when you were done browsing. The moment you heard the ‘swish’ of the order confirmation being sent, Marcus snapped the laptop closed, tossed it to the far corner of the bed and then all but pounced on you.

Early on when the two of you were still navigating your post-Dave waters Marcus had even asked you if you still wanted someone else in your lives. The role Dave was meant to (and had initially) played, you assume he meant (before it had gone and gotten complicated). You could tell by the way he asked you, his voice unsure and hesitant sounding, that it wasn’t something he wanted. And in all honesty, you didn’t want it anymore either and you were quick to assure him of that. Not only was Marcus indulging and fulfilling anything you desired, but whoever it was, they’d never be Dave anyway. It didn’t have to be said out loud that he was the only extra piece you’d both ever want in your marriage, you both knew it already.

Sunday mornings seemed to be when you’d find yourself thinking of and missing Dave the most, when you’d look around your bedroom in the aftermath of what your Saturday night had been. Saturday nights had become your routinely scheduled evenings where you and Marcus would get extra adventurous in bed, typically breaking in more of your new toys you’d purchased and just letting loose and taking out all your stresses of the week on one another.

One particular Sunday morning you remember lying next to Marcus who had just opened his beautiful sleepy eyes and you brushed his hair back from his forehead and then let out a little giggle followed by a sad sigh when your gaze caught site of the black fuzzy handcuffs that were still looped around one of the spokes in the headboard.

“He would’ve loved to see you like that,” you murmur, eyebrow raised playfully and you actually see Marcus’ ears turn pink and he bashfully hides his face in the pillow for a quick moment and laughs.

“You think so?”

“I know so baby. God you were so hot, at my mercy like that.”

Your blood begins to run hot just thinking about it again now. How he’d submitted to you. He’d laid down on his stomach, arms stretched above his head where you’d cuffed him to the bed and then you sat back on his thighs, massaging his ass with one hand while the other prepared the lube and the plug that the two of you had picked out together on your impromptu online shopping adventure a couple of weeks earlier in the other. It was the first time he’d ever let you do anything like that to him, though you’d discussed it a few times beforehand, and you were both pleasantly surprised how hot you found it.

You’d slowly fed him the plug, all the while gently rubbing his back with your free hand, soothing him and telling him how well he was doing for you. You still can’t erase from memory the way your breath hitched when he replied in a low, quivering voice, “yeah, I’m being a good boy?” God, the way the arousal instantly flooded you it was a miracle you were able to continue what you were doing and not abandon it all together to take care of yourself.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy,” you assured him, hand leaving his back to smoothing across the globes of his ass instead

Once you’d gotten it all the way inside and ensured he was comfortable you’d began to slowly maneuver it partially out and then back in, over and over again until it got to feeling so good for him that you’d gotten off his legs and let him get up on his knees when he’d begged you to let him fuck you.

You slid underneath his body, never uncuffing him, wriggling up the bed until you were face to face and left the plug seated deep in his ass as you helped guide his leaking tip to your entrance and he pushed inside. His hands were able to grip the spokes in the headboard so he had some leverage while still held captive in his position and he railed into you deep and hard, moaning like you’d never heard him before for the entire time, like he was on an entirely different plane of pleasure he hadn’t yet experienced.

Afterwards when you both lay spent and chests heaving with exhaustion you’d uncuffed him, gently removed the plug and gathered him in your arms, letting him cling to you with his head resting on your chest. You kissed and played with his hair, murmuring into the top of his head what a good boy he was for you and he just held you tighter until you’d both fallen asleep.

You loved your playful, risque and experimental Saturday nights, but you also loved the quieter, more intimate times as well. You loved waking up on a Sunday morning and lazily making love for hours, refusing to leave the comfort of your marital bed for most of the day. You loved weeknights sprawled out on the sofa relaxing after dinner and watching TV when you’d start necking like teenagers until he’d shove your pants down and slip inside of you, fucking you slow and deep until you both came and then he’d carry you up the stairs to bed. You loved nights when you were both too exhausted from your work days to do much of anything but still wanted to be close so you’d make out a little until he got hard and he would push inside your warm heat and then just wrap his arms around you and hold you until you’d both fall asleep with him inside you.

At the end of the day, well and truly, this had been what you both had wanted, originally. Dave was meant to come in, spice up your love life a little bit, teach you both a couple of things and then leave you to your lives with your newfound sexual knowledge. He’d done that, and yet, there was no denying that you still felt like a piece was just missing now.

A Dave York shaped piece.

You didn’t like to bring him up often to each other anymore. All it did was cause sadness for you both. You’d talked a lot early on and had eventually both admitted out loud your feelings you had for Dave but now there was no use bringing up his name anymore. He was gone and you had to accept it. It didn’t mean you couldn’t miss him, because oh, you missed him. All the time. But there was no use dwelling on something you had no control over, you had to move on. And you had, for the most part.

Or so you thought, until one Friday evening when your work colleagues managed to drag you out with them to a bar and there in the flesh, across the room of the dimly lit tavern, sat the one and only Dave fucking York.

You’d nearly spilled your drink on yourself when your head had turned and you saw him in your peripheral. He looked handsome as ever, wearing dark jeans and a white button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, top couple of buttons undone showing a teasing amount of perfect sun-kissed skin. Wherever his “emergency sabbatical” took him, it was apparently somewhere spent mostly outdoors in the sun you presume. His face looked a little thinner as well, his features more sharp and refined and you have to wonder if he’s been hitting the gym a lot more recently.

The only thing, frankly, that didn’t look good on him right now was the tiny blonde currently seated in his lap holding up a tray of shots you assume were meant for another table before Dave had intervened when something pretty caught his eye. You could practically feel your blood boiling at the sight before you, those deft fingers that knew your body all too well pulling and teasing at the belt loops of the tiny denim shorts the waitress was wearing while she threw her head back in laughter at something he’d said, eating up whatever attention he was willing to give her and you can’t say you blamed the girl. When the sly, sexy grin crossed his lips and he buried his face in her hair to undoubtedly whisper something absolutely filthy next to her ear and you saw her bite her lip in response, it felt like a hard slap across the face and everything happening around you instantly turned to white noise as you focused all your attention on the man across the room who, far as you could tell, hadn’t noticed you yet.

Before you do anything you quickly dig into your purse hanging on your chair for your phone and send a text to Marcus letting him know that Dave is here. His reply of ‘holy shit’ comes back near instantly but before you have a chance to type anything further you hear a loud voice bellowing from behind you for service, waiting for their shots apparently, and the tiny blonde regretfully starts to peel herself off of Dave’s lap to attend to her duties. Unfortunately Dave’s eyeline drifts to where the voice comes from, which you happen to be right in the cross hairs of. You see the tiniest flicker of shock etch across his features before his carefully crafted mask slips perfectly back into place and he gives you a small shit-eating grin that you wish you had the courage to slap right off of him. Eyes not leaving yours he simply picks up his beer and pulls another sip from it before he reaches out, grabs the hand of the waitress about to walk away and tugs her back into his lap, wrapping a possessive arm around her. His gaze never leaves you, even as his head tilts down to press his lips to the girl's shoulder.

Asshole.

Tears well in your eyes before you can stop them. He’s being a prick on purpose and you simply hate him in this moment. Dave York was a lot of things, but you’d never known him to be mean. Until now.

Not able to look at him another second you hastily push back from the table, your chair screeching across the hardwood loud enough to stop the idle chit-chat amongst your table of coworkers as they all stop to stare at you, having no clue what’s going on.

“I’ll be right back, just… need some air,” you explain curtly, not offering anything further or waiting for anyone to offer to accompany you.

You vaguely hear one of them calling your name questioningly as you stand up from the table and storm off towards the exit, passing Dave who’s now downing the entire tray of shots like they’re water.

Good, drink yourself half to death, you fucking idiot.

When the cool evening air hits you the moment you step outside it's like a brief reprieve and you take a deep breath, tears freely spilling down your cheeks now that you hastily try wiping away with the back of your hand. There’s a small crowd standing outside the front doors smoking cigarettes and vape pens but the chatter amongst them halts to a dead silence when the door slams shut behind you in your haste to get outside. Not in the mood for any onlookers, you quickly head off in the opposite direction and take the left turn down the alley at the side of the building for some privacy until you can catch your breath and, god willing, get your body to stop trembling. You realize too that you’d left your purse and your phone inside and you can’t possibly go back in there right now, not like this.

“Fuck,” you sigh into the desolate alley, stopping to lean your back against the cool brick and hanging your head, burying your face in your hands. The emotions of it all, of seeing him again, hits you like a ton of bricks and you let out a loud sob, your legs practically buckling from underneath you causing you to slide down the wall and squat down, elbows resting on your knees and face still buried in your hands as the now quieter sobs continue to rack your body.

You’re feeling just about every emotion under the sun right now and they’re all pouring out of you at once. You’re angry, jealous, sad, irritated, but maybe worst of all you’re reminded of just how fucking badly you still miss him. How badly you weren’t over him. And you hate yourself for it.

“Gotta light?”

That voice… of course you recognize it the second you hear it, even with his words slightly slurred and your face practically buried between your knees, and of course he had to follow you out here. The moment your head raises to look at his smug smirk with the cigarette dangling between his perfect lips you scowl, quickly rising to your feet and taking the two short strides over to where he stands in the middle of the alley and you snatch white stick from his mouth and immediately snap it in two, tossing it carelessly to the ground between you.

“Hey!” Dave barks at you, his voice sharp and loud as it echoes off the walls of the tight alleyway.

As if he has any right to be the one pissed off right now.

“Oh you don’t even smoke,” you argue back immediately, not in any type of mood to be taking shit from this man.

“I’m a social smoker,” he shrugs and you doubt even that’s the truth, he just wanted a reason to follow after you.

“You’re an asshole,” you bite back, not missing a beat.

He scoffs. “Somebody’s in a mood. Maybe you need that cigarette more than I do.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He’s on you before the last syllable even leaves your lips, both his large hands on your shoulders shoving you backwards until your back hits the wall and he’s crowding your space, leaving barely an inch of space between your two bodies that are now breathing heavily with adrenaline. You can smell the alcohol on him and you know he’s had a lot to drink. If you weren’t half buzzed already you could probably get there just by the smell wafting off of him.

“Think you’d rather I fuck you, hmm? That where all this attitude is coming from Baby?”

His hips force yours further into the unforgiving brick behind you as his hands leave your shoulders to grip your waist instead and you can feel the hard outline of his obvious desire pressing against you. You bite your lip to suppress the moan that’s begging to escape your throat but it slips through anyway; barely registering but he hears it. Of course he does. You can see the way the corner of his lip turns upward into a sly grin.

“There’s my girl.”

“I’m not your anything! You fucking left Dave. You left!” You raise your hands up to shove hard at his chest but he’s like an immovable wall.

“I know.”

His voice is suddenly soft, dare you say, remorseful sounding. You hate how your resolve and anger instantly starts to wane the moment he lets his guard down even the slightest bit.

“I know,” he repeats it again, softer, quieter, his forehead coming down to rest against yours where he slightly shakes his head back and forth. One hand lets go of the grip on your waist and he gently rubs the back of his knuckles up and down the top of your arm, just a barely-there touch that’s already causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh.

“What do you want?” you ask, trying to sound stronger than what you know you’re actually capable of right now. “Why did you follow me out here?”

“I want what you want”. His voice is suddenly at your ear and an involuntary shiver runs through your entire body. “Come home with me,” he tries, his voice slurring just slightly and you roll your eyes and attempt to put space between the two of you again. This time he’s not expecting it and you do manage to push him back a few inches and he wobbles on his feet.

“A drunk fuck so you can disappear again the minute it’s over, you think that’s what I want?” You’re practically screaming at him now, but you don’t care, he deserves it.

“C’mon,” he huffs, sounding annoyed as he quickly crowds your space once more, this time he manages to grab your hands and hoist them above your head, pressing them into the wall so you can’t push him off you again. “One last time for old times sake, huh? Let me fuck this attitude right out of you”

“I’m married, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Hasn’t exactly stopped us before,” he smirks and then lowers his face down so he can nuzzle into you, his nose grazing your ear and his smooth cheek brushing against yours and for a moment you feel yourself melting into his soft touch.

Your voice lacks the conviction you know it should when you rasp out a quiet "Dave, stop”. You won’t go home with him, you know you won’t. You’d never hurt Marcus like that (again), but the smell of his familiar cologne on his shirt collar, the way his warm skin feels pressed against yours and how your body seemingly just fits into the contours of his own you can’t find it in you to immediately try and push him away again either. It’s been so long, you want to just feel him. Just for a moment.

“Kiss me,” he tries, voice suddenly at your ear before he moves just slightly until his lips hover on yours. He doesn’t force it on you, waiting for you to make that final move and close the distance between you. It takes everything in you, but you manage to turn your face away and you hear his desolate sigh in response, hot breath fanning your cheek.

“Take a hint buddy,” a deep voice suddenly interrupts and both your heads snap to the side where you see an enormous man standing at the opening of the alley, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He must be a good six inches shorter than Dave but easily has over 100lbs on him. He’s a very wide, stocky man with a long ponytail and a studded leather vest over top of a faded t-shirt and covered in tattoos, looking like he belongs in some type of biker gang. You immediately recognize him as the man from earlier who tried to summon the waitress from Dave.

He fishes a lighter from his pocket and brings the flame up to light the cigarette and takes a long drag before breathing a large cloud of smoke out.

“She’s not interested,” he repeats when Dave doesn’t loosen his hold on you. “And you’re paying for those six shots by the way, prick.”

“What, you think she’s saving herself for you?” Dave laughs, incredulous. His hands suddenly leave yours, allowing your arms to drop down to your sides and he takes a step back from you, fully turning towards the man who’s now taken a few tentative steps into the alley. Dave reaches a hand into his back pocket fishing out his wallet. He pulls what looks to be a fifty from the bill fold, scrunches it up to a ball and throws it in the direction of the man standing in front of him before closing his wallet and returning it to his pants.

“There, now fuck off.”

“What’s your problem man?” The bystander asks, flicking his cigarette away and taking two long strides forward, the fifty note left crumpled and forgotten on the ground.

“My problem? My problem is fucking assholes who can’t mind their own business. Go fuck off and get your micro dick sucked somewhere else.”

Your brow furrows as you listen to Dave seemingly intentionally picking a fight with this complete stranger. This was not the calm, cool, collected Dave that you’re used to.

You didn’t like whoever this Dave was.

“Wanna try saying that to my face, shithead?” The shorter man challenges, taking another step towards Dave.

“Dave, just leave it,” you try but he waves a flippant hand at you, not even bothering to look in your direction.

“How bout I get you a stepstool and you say it to mine, small fry.”

“Don’t need a stool to lay you out right here on the pavement,” he challenges right back, taking yet another step closer until they’re just inches apart, the shorter man apparently not intimidated whatsoever and likely rather comfortable in a fight, you assume. What he doesn’t know, however, and what you do, is Dave’s extensive military training. Even drunk you have no doubt he could easily kill this man and barely break a sweat, if he wanted to.

“Leave it alone Dave, c’mon, I mean it!” You try again but you might as well be talking to the wall behind you, as neither of the men are paying you any attention any longer. Ironic, since you’re half the reason the fight started in the first place. Men.

“Tell you what,” Dave begins, voice smug. “First one’s free,” he finishes, raising his arms up in the air, defenseless.

Before you even have a chance to plead with them once more the other man swings, clocking Dave right in the gut that has him doubling over for a few brief seconds before he quickly rights himself again, and, to your astonishment, starts laughing.

“That it?” Dave laughs, back to his full height again. “C’mon, again,” he goads.

This time the stranger's fist connects with Dave’s face, causing his head to swing left with the impact he puts behind it. You quickly scramble over to Dave who lets out another chuckle as he wipes the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and turns back to face his foe.

“Pussy,” Dave taunts before spitting blood to the ground at the man's feet. “Why don’t we call the waitress out from inside, she probably hits harder than you do.”

“Dave!”

You watch it happening like it’s in slow motion, how the man grabs Dave’s head with both hands and smashes it into the brick wall and Dave, for whatever reason, doesn’t even fight it. It makes you think of those videos you had to watch in Drivers Ed as a teenager, how the drunk driver in the scenario is typically the one to survive a collision because their response time is so slow their body just lets go and goes with the flow rather than bracing for impact. The part that really tears you up inside though is you don’t even think it’s the alcohol, you think he’s doing it on purpose, wanting to get hurt. You hear the loud smack as his forehead hits the brick and you instantly surge forward, taking the brunt of his weight as he collapses into you and you both slowly slide down to the ground with him in your arms because you can’t hold his weight.

“Get up, you piece of shit!” the stranger yells, furious, and you scream, covering Dave’s body with your own where he lays in your lap as the man winds up to kick Dave while he’s down.

“Enough!” A third man’s voice shouts and relief floods your whole system as you recognize it’s Marcus. In a flash he’s crossing the alley, grabbing the stranger by his shirt and shoving him into the brick and holding him there. Marcus was definitely ‘a lover not a fighter’, but he could certainly hold his own when it came down to it if need be. You’re not scared any longer.

“You alright Honey?” he asks, quickly chancing a glance over to where you’re kneeled on the ground with Dave’s head in your lap, surveying the laceration above his eyebrow.

The man in Marcus’ grasp looks at the two of you confused, then when he notices Marcus’ wedding ring where his fists are cuffed in his shirt, his eyes widen in disbelief.

“Holy shit, is this your wife? I just did you a favour pal,” he scoffs, lightly shoving at Marcus and Marcus backs off just slightly, letting go but staying close in case the man wants to go at Dave again who’s practically unconscious at this point.

“Look it's fine just… go back inside please,” Marcus huffs before he turns back to you and frowns. “Think we can get him up?”

Between the two of you and Dave’s slight cooperation (as much as he can manage with not only how intoxicated he is but how he surely just got few screws knocked loose thanks to that brick wall) you manage to get him up and he looks around a little disoriented, shaking his head while you and Marcus flank either side of him and hold him up.

“Marcus? You’re here,” Dave slurs and then turns his entire body into him and practically collapses into his arms in what you think was meant to be a hug. Marcus manages to hold Dave upright, both his arms holding under Dave’s armpits to keep him on his feet.

“I’m here,” Marcus croaks out. “I’ve got you.”

“The fuck?” the stranger mutters, shaking his head as he watches what must surely be a very strange reaction to a husband finding another man hitting on his wife in a dark alley. “Good luck with… well, all of that pal,” he says with a wave of his hand in the direction of the three of you before he turns on his heel, bends down to pick up the discarded fifty and heads back out of the alley and presumably back toward the bar.

“I’m drunk,” Dave suddenly breaks the silence, pushing back slightly from Marcus and wavering on his feet. His brows furrow in confusion and he wipes at his forehead. When his hand comes into his eyeline and he sees blood smeared on it, his features scrunch up again. “And I think I hit my head?”

“It’s ok, do you think you can help us get you to the car? It’s close,” Marcus tries to explain to Dave who manages a small nod. You get behind Dave and lift one of his arms up and turn him slightly, draping his arm over your shoulders as you move with him to stand at his side, Marcus now holding up the other. Thankfully Marcus had hastily just parked the car in a loading zone directly in front of the bar after you failed to answer any of his texts or calls so the walk was quick and you managed to get Dave shoved into the front passenger seat. You quickly run back inside to grab your purse and phone and say a quick goodnight to your coworkers and then hurry back out to the car. Dave mumbles off his address once Marcus slides into the driver’s seat and Marcus gives a non-commital grunt of acknowledgement before he pulls away from the curb and drives away. Barely two minutes later Dave’s head is tilted all the way back into the headrest and he’s passed out. You lean forward from the backseat to address Marcus.

“We can’t take him home like that. What if he has a concussion or something?”

“I’m not taking him home” Marcus quickly responds, shaking his head.

With a satisfied sigh you lean back into your seat.

What a fucking disaster.

Barely ten minutes later Marcus pulls into your driveway, hitting the button clipped to the sun visor to open the garage. The last thing he needs is for his neighbors to see the two of you dragging a bloodied half unconscious man into your home in the middle of the night.

You only manage to get him as far as the couch on the main floor, an upstairs bedroom too harrowing of a feat to attempt you presume with Dave’s inability to offer much of his own assistance. With a loud grunt you manage to drop him down to a seated position on the sofa and he immediately falls back into the soft cushions.

“Stay with him, I’ll get some water and something for his head,” Marcus says and you nod your head.

He’s only gone a minute or so, taking a little longer because he couldn’t find the Aspirin bottle right away, but when he returns with two extra strength tablets and a full glass of water he stops in his tracks just inside the living room.

Dave is flopped on his side, face resting on your lap facing where Marcus stands while your hands delicately card through his hair.

He’s murmuring quiet little ramblings with his eyes closed, something about “fucked up” and “so sorry” and you just gently hush him, running your fingers through his sweat damp hair.

“We need to clean him up” you tell Marcus when you notice him standing there. There’s blood still smeared across his forehead but thankfully not very much, he hadn’t been actively bleeding for very long. At least you know he doesn’t require any stitches.

Marcus sighs and crosses the room, getting down on his haunches in front of the couch in Dave’s direct eye line.

“Hey Buddy,” he tries softly. “Need you to sit up for me, have some water and take these.”

Dave grunts, noncommittally, but ultimately does try and push himself up. You both help until he’s back into a seated position and Marcus hands him the two white tablets. Dave stares at them for several seconds before tossing them back into his throat and swallowing without water. You tisk at him and shove the water glass into his hand.

“Drink,” you order. He does. He finishes near the entire glass in one go and your eyes widen in surprise.

“There,” he sighs, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Can I go now?”

You’re so frustrated you could smack him. One second he’s being a total asshole, the next he’s trying to kiss you, then he’s purposely getting the shit beat out of him, then practically crying in your lap, and now he’s back to being obstinate again.

He was right about one thing. He is fucked up. And you don’t think it’s just the booze.

“I’m sorry, no,” you shake your head, trying to sound less angry than you feel. The last thing you need is to pick another fight with this unpredictable man right now. “Baby, you’re bleeding”

The endearment slips out completely by accident. You don’t even notice you’ve said it but both Dave and Marcus do, their widened gazes turning to you at the exact same moment.

“Dave,” you quickly try to correct, shaking your head.

He lets out a little snort and nods his head, like he’s willing to let you get away with your little slip up.

“You hit your head really hard, you can’t be alone tonight. If you can make it upstairs you can have the guest room, if not, we can make up the couch. In the morning you’re free to go, I promise.”

“Fine,” he relents, shoulders dropping.

“Think you can help us get you upstairs?” you ask and he nods his head. Both you and Marcus throw one of his arms around your shoulders and help him up, taking each of the steps up the staircase slowly. Dave seems to be somewhat coming out of his fog and much more helpful this time, thankfully. You’re pretty sure it’s just the alcohol working against him now, his brain mostly cleared from the fog of the head trauma. Once you reach the top of the stairs you go to turn towards the guest room but Dave plants his feet and attempts to twist his body away from it, toward the direction he knows your and Marcus’ master bedroom is instead. You and Marcus both share a look behind Dave’s back where you’re holding him and after a moment Marcus gives you one solitary nod, acquiescing to Dave's wishes.

Once inside the room you unravel yourself from Dave as Marcus sits down on the edge of the mattress, bringing Dave with him to sit next to him. You head off to the bathroom to wet a washcloth and come back into the room to gently wipe away the blood and dirt at Dave’s forehead.

“What the fuck were you thinking,” you mutter as you clean him up best you can, shaking your head slightly. He doesn’t answer and you don’t expect him to, nor do you really even want him to in his condition. He needs to sleep it off, maybe you’ll get some clarity in the morning.

Once he’s cleaned up Marcus lifts Dave’s arm off of him and puts it into his lap. He isn’t sure what to do next so he leaves Dave there and wanders off to the bathroom to find you where you’re rinsing off the washcloth in the sink.

“What do we do with him?” he asks quietly.

“Well… honestly it’s probably better we’re in the same room anyway, that way if something happens in the middle of the night we’re there,” you reason and Marcus nods.

“Ok…” he sighs, following after you as you exit the bathroom and flick off its light.

You stop just outside the bathroom when you see Dave passed out in the middle of your bed, all his clothes - including his shoes - still on and you sigh.

“I got it,” Marcus says, going to the end of the bed and untying the laces of Dave’s shoes before placing them on the ground. That’s all you undress of him though, he’ll be fine sleeping in the rest of his clothes. Marcus was already in sweats and a t-shirt but you were still in work clothes so go over to your dresser and fish out a pair of pajamas and quickly change. Once you’re ready for bed you turn out the lights and both you and Marcus crawl in on either side of Dave. You can’t help but reach a hand out and brush it through his hair as his light snores fill the quiet, darkened room.

Fuck, you really missed him.

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

#dave york #marcus pike #ppcu fanfiction #dave york x marcus pike x reader #dave york x reader #dave york fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #dave york x you #dave york smut #marcus p #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal character fanfiction

60 notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Grocery Store Blues - Chapter 5

Eddie Munson x f!reader/f!oc

series masterlist

He falls for the pretty girl with the pretty daughter in the cereal aisle.

Two tired hearts share a few bowls of Lucky Charms.

warnings | 18+ gossipy women being bitches :/ but otherwise the finest fluff, we're talking down comforter level stuff here folks

It’s the week before Christmas, and she’s finally catching a break. On Monday, Helen told her that one of her friends who teaches at the high school said they’d be looking for a new English teacher for the next school year. Helen had passed her name along, an early christmas gift. With the week off work, she had used the time to search for new jobs and had found out the library was looking for someone to work the front desk in the afternoons. Her bookworm heart had swelled at the idea, and she was already scheduling an interview with the head librarian for the new year. She had received her exam grades back on Tuesday, and they were practically gold in her hands. Things seem to be looking up for her and her girl. And for her and Eddie.

Since their date last weekend, they had resumed their nightly phone calls. She felt like she was a teenager again, twirling the phone cord in the kitchen and whispering into the receiver late into the night. The forecast was calling for snow Wednesday night, and Eddie had offered to take her and Poppy sledding the next day. While she couldn’t help the anxiety that rose at the prospect of her girl sledding for the first time, Eddie’s sweet invitation had convinced her. That’s why she’s currently wrapping her girl up like the cutest pink marshmallow in the snow suit Helen had given her (an early christmas present) as they wait for Eddie to pick them up. She finishes her off with matching knit gloves and hat (again, early present) before kneeling down to take in her cozy girl. She can’t help but grin at her soft cheeks peeking over the top of the scarf, landing two smacking kisses there. Poppy huffs under her mom’s ministrations.

“When’s Skettie coming?”

“He’ll be here soon, babe. That’s why we’re getting you all bundled up. Can you move your arms ok?” Due to her very puffy coat, Poppy’s arms are sort of stuck out away from her sides. Poppy gives them an experimental wiggle. She smiles at her girl, figuring that warmth is more important than range of motion in this case. Just then, the doorbell rings and Poppy really puts her snowsuit to the test, shuffling over to the door, looking not unlike a penguin in her swishing waddle. She steps behind her girl and opens the door, and Poppy’s immediately shrieking out “Skettie!” in delight at his appearance. He grins, getting down on one knee to get at her eye level.

“Pop, pop, Poppy! That’s gotta be the coolest jacket I’ve ever seen.” Her heart melts as she watches her girl lay her little palm on his cheek, turning a bit bashful under his grin. She speaks in a little murmur.

“Thanks, Skettie.” His smile gets impossibly brighter.

“You’re very welcome, miss dragon.” He takes her hand in his, giving her a little squeeze before standing with a dramatic groan. He tilts his head to look at her.

“Hey you.” Now it’s her turn to feel shy under his gaze.

“Hi, Eds.”

“Are you two ladies ready for some world-class sledding?”

…

Eddie had kept her pretty well-distracted the whole ride over to the park. Why had watching him secure Poppy’s carseat in the backseats of his van made her head go fuzzy? But the minute they trudged out through the snow and to the infamous Hawkins hill, her mom senses were on high alert. Eddie’s got two toboggan-style sleds under each arm and as they reach the top of the hill, she’s eyeing both wearily, holding Poppy’s gloved hand a little tighter. There are several other families out today, whipping by in the snow. Her stomach lurches at the sounds of kids shrieking on the way down. Eddie unceremoniously drops the two sleds down in the snow, effectively startling her out of her anxious thoughts.

“Well, miss dragon, whaddaya say? You up for a little down? Hill, that is.” She can’t help but snort at his terrible joke, even though it goes right over Poppy’s head. A warmth starts to settle over the frigid anxiety in her chest. Poppy meanwhile is bouncing in excitement.

“Wanna go fast, Skettie.” He grins at that, squatting down in front of her.

“Is that so? You wouldn’t be up for a little race then, would ya?” Her girl’s eyes go wide and wild at that as she whips around to look at her mom.

“Mama, can we race Skettie?” She can’t help but smile at Poppy’s excitement, giving her girl a small nod. Her fear has all but ebbed away at this point, just a slight tinge in her mind that she figures is always there, always trying to protect her girl.

“Yeah, Pops. Skettie’s gonna eat our dust.” Eddie shoots her a wicked grin at that, standing and sidling up next to her. His hand comes down to squeeze her hip as he hands her one of the sleds.

“We’ll just see about that, babe.” She sits down in the back of the worryingly flimsy sled, scrunching her knees up and beckoning her girl to sit down between them. She wraps one arm tight around Poppy’s puffy torso, using the other to press them towards the edge of the hill. Eddie’s lined up right next to them, kneeling in his sled and making ridiculous sounds like an engine revving that are making Poppy giggle.

“Alright ladies, I want a nice clean race. On your mark– get set–” before he can get the last word out, she’s already pushing off, sending her and her girl slipping down the hill because if there’s one thing Eddie has yet to learn about her, it’s that she’s always had a nasty competitive streak. Poppy is a tangle of shrieks and giggles as they skid to a stop at the bottom of the hill, Eddie not far behind.

“How could two people so pretty be such cheaters, I am shocked, sweetheart.” She can’t help but giggle, drawing Poppy closer into her lap and sending him a wicked grin.

“Sorry, Eds. All’s fair in love and sledding. Right, Pops?”

“Again, mama, again!”

…

They “race” a few more times and she reckons she’s having so much fun with her girl and Eddie, she doesn’t even care that the seat of her jeans are totally soaked through with snow. When they get to the top of the hill after their last spin (Eddie won that round), Poppy tugs on her arm. She squats down so her girl can talk directly into her ear.

“Wanna ride with Skettie, mama.” She glances up at him over Poppy’s head and he’s just grinning at her words.

“Yeah, babe? Why don’t you ask him if you can sled with him this time?” She loves it when her girl gets all shy, her lovely pink cheeks getting impossibly rosier as she shuffles over to Eddie, bringing a small hand to clutch at his belt loop. He kneels down as well to get on her level.

“Yes, miss dragon?” She’s rocking a little side to side, her hand now resting on his knee.

“Wanna ride with you, Skettie.” Her mom brain kicks in for a minute.

“Hey, Pops? Can we ask a little more nicely?” Her girl glances back at her, her little brow all scrunched up, but she nods, taking a deep inhale as she turns back to Eddie.

“Skettie, can I ride with you, please?” He gives her one of his melty smiles.

“Well, of course, princess. It would be my honor.”

Eddie sits down in the back of one of the sleds, scrunching his knees up and beckoning for Poppy to sit down in front of him. Poppy, however, has different plans. She practically crawls over the poor man, sitting down in his lap in a way that makes him let out a soft “oof.” He recovers quickly though, wrapping his arm around her girl and pressing his cheek up against hers. He turns back to look at her where she’s still standing.

“You coming, mama?” The little name makes her heart ache. She scrunches her nose and shakes her head.

“I think I’m all sledded out, you guys go on. I’ll cheer you on from up here.”

“Alright, Popster. We better make this a good run now that we got an audience and all. You ready?” Poppy nods her head so hard she can’t help but laugh.

Eddie counts them down and then they’re off down the hill, his laughs and Poppy’s shrieks mixing up in the frigid air. She whoops and claps from the top of the hill as they slow to a stop. What she’s not expecting, however, is the heady feeling that starts to swim in her chest at the sight of Eddie hoisting Poppy onto his hip and tucking the sled under his other arm, seeming to effortlessly trudge up the hill. She’s suddenly not so cold anymore.

When they meet her at the top of the hill, Eddie drops the sled and wraps both arms now under Poppy to hoist her a little higher on his hip. She has buried her face into his neck.

“You wanna go again, miss dragon? Or do you wanna get warmed up?” She just grumbles, burrowing closer into him. Eddie laughs, looking at her over the top of her girl’s head.

“Think Popster might be done, babe. Whaddaya say to dinner? On me.”

“Oh, Eds. We couldn’t–”

“Say no to my offer? Good deal, sweetheart, let’s get this show on the road then.” “You’re impossible.” “You like it.”

He’s got her there.

…

They wind up at the same pizza shop that she and Eddie had gone to on their date. Tucking into a little booth as Poppy takes to the very serious task of drawing with the paper and crayons the restaurant gives to kids. She’s talking Eddie through her latest dragon creation. While the pair are enrapt in their discussion of mythical creatures, she sweeps her eyes across the room, landing on Dianne, her co-worker from the pediatrician’s office. She’s sitting at a table with a bunch of other women that she recognizes as other Hawkins moms. However, when Diane notices her she doesn’t offer her a wave or a smile, instead narrowing her eyes at her and glancing at Eddie and Poppy before turning to whisper to the woman sitting next to her. Immediately, the whole table of women are peering at her booth, whispering and shaking their heads at each other. She feels sick to her stomach, quickly tearing her gaze away from the twittering women and clearing her throat.

“Hey, Poppy. Why don’t we go get you cleaned up before the food comes, babe?” Poppy grumbles, but acquiesces to being picked up by her. She murmurs to Eddie that they’ll be right back, and if he notices the new tension in her voice, he doesn’t show it, smiling and nodding at them as they head to the bathroom.

She helps her girl wash her hands, meanwhile trying to stymie whatever this ugly feeling is– anger, fear, anxiety? She’s not even sure, but her swimming thoughts are quickly interrupted when Dianne walks into the bathroom. She clears her throat, trying to sound normal when she speaks.

“Hi, Dianne, how are you?” Dianne offers her a tight-lipped smile, tilting her head.

“Hi, hon, funny seeing you here. Hi, Poppy!” Poppy buries her face in the side of her thigh. Smart girl. She takes Poppy’s hand, guiding them towards the door.

“Well, it’s nice to see you, Dianne. We better head back out though.” Dianne stops her, placing a manicured hand on her arm.

“Dear, I just have to ask whatever on earth are you doing with that Munson boy? Haven’t you heard all the talk about him around town.” She puffs up her chest, getting ready to say something she’ll probably regret later, but her girl beats her to the punch.

“We went sledding with Skettie and he let me ride with him! He’s the best!” She feels her heart fit to burst looking down at her girl’s proud smile. She glances back at Dianne, who looks a bit stunned by Poppy’s exclamation. Nothing else needs to be said.

“Have a nice night, Dianne.”

When they slide back into the booth, she plants a kiss on Eddie’s cheek that leaves him looking rather shocked.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” She just shrugs.

“Thank you for the best day, Eds.” When she glances over at Dianne’s table, the women are all watching in a similar state of shock before erupting in hushed whispers.

Let them talk.

…

Even though their stomachs are stuffed, Eddie is adamant that they stop for hot cocoa mix before he takes them home. She agrees, so long as he joins them for a mug afterwards. When they get to the store, Poppy all but demands that Eddie carry her and before she can even remind her girl to be polite, he’s already picking her up and setting her on his hip as she buries her face into his curls. He looks to her over Poppy’s head, silently asking if it’s ok, and all she can do is smile and lightly nod, her brain going a bit hazy again at how natural it looks for him to be carrying her girl.

She has to catch herself again as they look at a display of hot chocolate mixes when she places her hand on his forearm, showing him the box she picked up. She glances briefly across the way and catches their reflection in the door of the cold case. They look like a family. It makes her heart seize for a moment, but Eddie quickly brings her back to reality as he shuffles her over to get a bottle of whipped cream (“we gotta pull out all the stops, babe, I want the works in my mug.”) He somehow manages to keep her from paying, again, despite her furrowed brow.

And then they’re back in her apartment, Eddie helping Poppy come up with even more impossible creatures as they sit at the coffee table while she stirs the hot cocoa in a pan on the stove, glancing at them over her shoulder from the kitchen. Somehow, Eddie had managed to not only sneak whipped cream into their shopping basket, but candy canes and marshmallows as well which she kept looking at on the counter and dumbly smiling at. He really is impossible and she really does like it. She calls them over to get their drinks, setting out a mismatched trio of mugs and carefully pouring the hot drink in each. Poppy grabs at her jeans, the universal sign for “up, please” and she hoists her girl up onto her hip to give her a better look at her treat. She watches in horror as Eddie squirts a dangerously tall amount of whipped cream into his mug before promptly licking up most of it. Poppy giggles at his performance, seeing that he’s got a dollop of whipped cream on the tip of his nose. He makes a face at her.

“What are you laughing at, Popster? Is there something on my face?” He dramatically sticks out his tongue, trying to catch the whipped cream off his nose and Poppy shrieks in delight at his antics. She acts before she can even think about it, shifting Poppy a little snugger on her hip as she leans into him and lays a kiss right to the tip of his nose, effectively swiping off the lingering whipped cream. His cheeks are stupidly pink when she pulls away. She has to speak around her wide grin.

“All clean, handsome.” She loves how flustered he looks, hiding his blush behind a swig of his drink. Poppy meanwhile, is making grabby hands at the marshmallows.

“Alright, babe, what do you want in your hot cocoa?”

It takes a bit of bargaining, one candy cane instead of three, a few marshmallows instead of the whole rest of the bag, but Poppy is finally satisfied with her mug. She goes to grab her own, but Eddie calls over that he already brought it to the couch. She sits Poppy down at the coffee table, reminding her to hold her mug with both hands before plopping down beside her. Her eyes go wide at the mug Eddie hands her. It’s a mountain of whipped cream and way too many marshmallows, two candy canes sticking out of the monstrosity, she shoots him a look.

“Eddie.”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Just got a little carried away, here, lemme just–” he reaches over and takes one of the candy canes out of her drink, crunching down on it around a wicked grin. She shakes her head at him from behind a sip. Eddie slides down to sit next her, their backs resting against the couch. With her girl resting into her one side and Eddie tucking her under his arm on the other, she thinks that it’s not just the hot chocolate that’s dizzyingly sweet.

They settle into a comfortable silence, sipping their drinks. She and Eddie keep sharing rather gooey glances at each other. Her drink long slurped up, Poppy is dozing into her mom’s side, a chocolate mustache around her parted lips. She sets her mug down on the coffee table, gently gathering her girl up in her arms and sitting her in her lap. Poppy half-heartedly wraps her arms around her neck, resting her cheek on her sternum.

“Pops? Is it bedtime, babe?” Her girl lets out a nonsense hum that she chooses to interpret as a yes. She glances at Eddie, just catching the tail end of a rather adoring look in his eyes.

“I’m just gonna clean her up but I think she’s gonna conk right out for me, do you wanna–”

“I’ll wait right here, sweetheart.” She smiles softly at him, slowly and awkwardly standing with Poppy still wrapped around her torso.

Her girl is putty in her hands when she gets her to the bathroom, totally sedated by cheese and sugar. She cleans up her sticky, pink cheeks and all but brushes her teeth for her. Nightgown on and eyes just barely open, Poppy dozes off as soon as she’s tucked in. She can’t help herself, stealing a few kisses on her forehead and cheeks before turning off her lamp and flipping on her nightlight, leaving the door just barely cracked as she slips down the hall towards the living area.

She finds Eddie sitting on the couch, seeing that he had taken their mugs into the kitchen and cleaned them up, leaving them to dry on the counter. His legs are spread wide, one arm slung across the back of the couch. He’s giving her the loveliest smile that she can’t help the streak of boldness that jolts through her as, instead of sitting next to him, she throws one leg over his hip, effectively straddling him on the couch as she slings her arms around his neck. His lips part and his eyes widen. She really enjoys leaving Eddie Munson speechless. Her voice is a whisper when she speaks.

“Hey you.” He smiles, letting his palms rub up and down the meat of her thighs.

“Howdy.” She scrunches her face at his very weird choice of greeting but he just puffs out a laugh.

“That sounded cooler in my head. Someone is making me nervous.” She grins, tilting her head onto her shoulder.

“Who, me?” He surges forward, stealing a kiss that she wasn’t totally expecting. She can feel the blush creeping across her face as he pulls back to look at her.

“There, now we’re even, sweetheart.” She leans in this time and it’s a longer, deeper kiss that’s encouraging both pairs of their wandering hands. She gasps into his mouth when his hands settle on the swell of her ass, giving a rather bold squeeze. Their kiss is quick to grow heated, but she just as fast pulls back, resting her forehead against his in dismay.

“I’m sorry, it’s just–” He shakes his head against hers.

“Don’t have to apologize, sweetheart.” They’re swallowing each other’s whispered words, practically going cross-eyed to look at each other.

“I just– I really want to, Eds– really. But, Poppy–”

“I get it, baby. Really, s’already been a perfect day. You don’t have to say sorry to me, not ever.” She sighs.

“It really was a perfect day, Eds. Thank you.” He smiles brightly before stealing one more kiss.

They both pull back in each other’s arms to take each other in.

“Can I ask you something, sweetheart?” She nods, tracing her fingers along his jaw.

“Where did Poppy’s name come from? I mean, don’t think I’ve ever known a Poppy before.” Her fingers still and she sighs, peering at him through her lashes.

“You really want to know?” He smiles, giving her hips a squeeze.

“Well, I told you that when I found out I was pregnant the first thing my parents did was schedule that clinic appointment. It was the day before I was supposed to go to Indianapolis. Obviously I was freaking out. So, I went to a quiet place to try to clear my mind, the library.” Eddie is intently listening to her story, his lips slightly parted.

“I was wandering in the stacks, happened to come across the section all about parenting. Found this, like, manual for pregnancy, and it had a section just on development. It said that at about the point I was at with the pregnancy, the fetus was only the size of a poppy seed. I mean, imagine that. I don’t know, something about it just shook me to my core. I knew then and there I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t go to Indianapolis. So when it was a girl, it was the first name I could think of, my little poppy seed.” She hasn’t told this story to anyone before, no one has ever asked. She’s a bit startled when Eddie gently swipes his knuckles under her eyes to catch tears she didn’t even realize were starting to fall.

“Well, that just confirms my suspicions. Poppy is the coolest name ever.” She lets out a wet laugh at that before dipping down into Eddie’s neck and wrapping him in a hug. He rubs his broad palms up and down her back.

“Thank you for telling me that, sweetheart.” It’s a whisper into the top of her head, but she still hums in response.

“Thank you for asking.”

They sit like that for a while, just holding each other, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness in the lull of each other’s heartbeats. It’s Eddie who stirs first, squeezing her hip as she pulls away to look at him. His voice is barely a whisper.

“I oughta let you get some sleep, mama.” She lets out a sigh, but nods, reluctantly standing from his lap and offering her hands to help him up. She walks him over to the front door, leaning against the wall as she watches him shrug on his jacket.

“What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Same thing Wayne and I do every year. Kraft mac and a slap on the back.” He lets out a quiet laugh but she furrows her brow at his words. He shakes his head at her dismayed reaction, pressing a kiss to her forehead to smooth the lines there.

“Sweetheart, it’s all good. It’s tradition, you know?” She huffs.

“Well, would you and Wayne wanna do something different this year?” She knows it’s bold, but he’s done so much for her, and currently it’s all she can think to offer in return. He scrunches his nose at her.

“Are you inviting me to your Christmas?” She shrugs.

“Well, it’s just me, my aunt, and Pops. Helen would be happy to have you both, I think. You know she told me she went to highschool with your uncle?” Eddie chuckles at that, lightly shaking his head.

“That’s really kind, baby. But I don’t wanna intrude on your Christmas.” She brings her hand to his arm, squeezing his bicep.

“Eds, it’s not intruding when I want you there. You and Wayne. I understand if you don’t wanna come, but please know that the door is open.” He offers her a small smile, bringing his hand to cup her cheek and land a sweet kiss to her lips.

“I’ll talk to Wayne about it, alright? It’s a sweet thing to offer, baby, thank you.” She steals one more kiss from him before finally saying goodnight, gently shutting the door behind him.

She shuffles over to the coffee table to clean up Poppy’s markers and drawings that are still strewn there, but she hesitates when she looks at one of the pictures. It shows three stick figures on the back of a purple dragon, flying through the clouds. The one stick figure is a little smaller than the other two, dressed in a round, pink circle of a coat and she supposes that it must be Poppy. The stick figure holding Poppy’s stick figure’s hand on the left must be her, it has a crude notion of her hair as well as her dark blue coat that she had worn today. The stick figure holding Poppy’s hand on the right has long, brown curly-qs for hair, and is dressed in all black crayon. She knows exactly who it is that’s holding her girl’s hand atop that dragon and she briefly thinks that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things

20 notes · View notes