#(see also yesterday's trailer)

[ducktracy]

a short placing heavy emphasis on Hungarian Rhapsody No. II is a rite of passage for golden age cartoons. Bugs Bunny did it! Tom and Jerry did it! Daffy and Donald! but one thing Woody Woodpecker has above the competition is that he is held hostage by a group of gangsters and is forced to entertain, lest he get executed. amazing

[shalomniscient]

if mavuika turns out to be sad and soggy and horrendously willing to self sacrifice because she misses her family or something it’s going to be so over for me. sad and soggy characters who put up a relaxed and carefree front? brother say less

[ohdeargodwhy]

I got some clothes from the RSC costume sale 5-6 years ago that i don't wear that often and occasionally I get jumpscared by the actor's name on the label because I now recognise it

today it was OMG IT'S AMINA LADY PARTS !!

[fangirlshameblog]

[keeps-ache]

🔫 pew pew

[butchvamp]

so disconnected rn i had to actually google what the new mcu movie was cus i had no idea a new one even came out

[bad268]

I had a thought.... and I don't know if its a good or bad one, so let me know what you think

I was thinking Arvid or Ollie were reader is apart of the royal family (maybe Prince Edwards daughter) and they go to silverstone.

love your writing btw 🙈

Everybody's A Ferrari Fan (Ollie Bearman X Royal! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (it's not bad, i love royal readers <3)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 2027

Summary: Silverstone weekend gets a little more interesting when Ollie learns the reader is a royal.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Silverstone was a spectacle. It always has been, and it always will be. Being part of the royal family meant you were expected to attend. Your older sister wasn’t into the sport, your younger brother found it cool but didn’t care for it, and your parents were just there for appearances. You, however, would go to the race with your grandmother anytime you could, and you found it all fascinating. You were even there to meet Lewis Hamilton on multiple occasions. 

Since you were 18 now, you were hoping to convince your family to let you go alone. You promised to uphold all of the normal obligations they would do. It did not take nearly as much convincing since they had more pressing royal duties related to your grandfather to attend to. They let you, as long as you behaved. No problem there! 

When the day finally came, you walked down the pitlane with a few of your guards. Despite wanting to support your favorite teams, it was against your dress code. You could not have any logos, so you hid a few bracelets under your sleeves. You also had a few extras in case you met some new friends or drivers. 

Yesterday was Friday, so there was not much for you to do on track. You just visited with some of the British drivers. You met with Lewis again. He introduced you to George and Lando, and when you met Lando, he introduced you to Oscar. 

“Did you know I’m 1/16 British?” Oscar joked. It was something you had seen, and it was funny to see it play out in front of you.

“No way!” You joked back. “Maybe we’ll find out you're related to the royal family!”

“Oh don’t tell him that!” Lando groaned, immediately walking away. He walked over to Andrea, and you saw them having a discussion before looking over to you and Oscar.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave,” You sighed as you moved to head out of the garage. “Good luck in the sessions today, and if I don’t see you for the rest of the weekend, good luck in the race.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Oscar responded with a bow as you left. You had a few minutes before your guards were meant to take you up to the viewing box, but you were interested in meeting some of the Formula 2 and Formula 3 drivers. 

You sent a quick text to your head guard where you were going before sneaking off to a bathroom. You changed into some Ferrari merch you bought because everyone is a Ferrari fan and put on a mask, so no one would recognize you. You threw on a hat to cover up your hair and sunglasses to hide your face before taking off toward the support paddock. 

Given that free practice 1 was starting, there was not a lot of traffic in the support paddock, so you were able to walk freely between trailers. Since there weren’t a lot of people there, you pulled the mask down. You looked around in awe of everything. Maybe you were distracted by everything, but it did not take long for you to run into someone. A tall boy around your age immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you from falling down. Your hands grasped at his shoulders in shock as you looked up at him. 

“I am so sorry,” You said after a beat, still in too much shock to move, but he didn’t move either. 

“Don’t mention it,” He responds before helping you stand up straight. He glanced down and took note of your attire. “Ferrari fan?”

“Isn’t everyone?” You joked, gesturing to his shirt. “Where did you get that? It looks like one of the team kits! Either that or it’s a really good knockoff.”

“No, it’s official,” He chuckled as he blushed. Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped, realizing he was a driver. “I’m in the Ferrari Driver Academy, but I race in F2. My name is Ollie.”

“Y/n,” You responded in awe. “Wait, Ollie as in Ollie Bearman? You made your F1 debut this year and you swept Baku last year, right?”

“Yeah,” He said bashfully as he looked anywhere but at you. 

“Well, first off, congrats,” You praised, “Second, are you excited for qualifying? That’s happening later today right?”

“Yeah, it’s in a couple of hours, and I love Silverstone,” Ollie started. “I love racing in front of my home crowd and I think I have a good chance to win or podium at least. I topped practice, so I’m confident we’ll have the speed to be at the top.”

“I have full confidence you will do your country proud,” You smiled as you heard him rant. It was nice to hear someone so passionate about winning in front of their home country. Then you realized you were probably keeping him from something. “Oh, I should probably leave you to whatever you were going to do before. I’m sorry for holding you up and running into you.”

“I was just heading to my garage if you want to come with me,” Ollie offered, holding out his hand for you. “I can get you in a good spot to watch the race.”

“Only if I can sit in your car,” You giggled as you took his hand and followed him to the Prema trailer. That’s where you stayed on Friday. You sent update texts to your guards every 30 minutes, so they wouldn’t come looking for you. Even then, that didn’t stop them from trying to find you. They couldn’t.

You made sure to tell Ollie you would see him on Saturday, and that you would be supporting him.  You got his number, promising to text him when you got to the track. You left the Prema garage and changed back to your original outfit. You hid the clothes back in your bag along with the mask before finding your guards and leaving for the night.

Saturday morning, you went to the track super early. You wanted to go to the Prema garage again, but everything was stacked against you. Well, not exactly.

You wanted to separate from your guards, but it seemed virtually impossible. Thankfully, they trusted Lewis, so when Lewis and Toto decided to watch the F2 sprint from the Prema garage in support of Kimi, you asked to join them. You were allowed to, but the guards would be outside of the garage the whole time. Once you three got into the garage, you pulled Lewis aside.

“If I change out of this, will you say anything?” You whispered, pulling Lewis down a hall. You were always close with Lewis, and you knew he would vouch for you. “I just want to enjoy the race as a spectator.”

“Yeah, I’ll even cover for you,” Lewis said as he pointed toward the bathroom. You ran over to change back into your Ferrari outfit and put the mask, hat, and sunglasses back on before returning to Lewis. “Ferrari merch? Really? What happened to Mercedes?”

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan,” You chuckled again, “And you’re going to be in Ferrari next year. I’m just ahead of the curve.”

“Are you sure it’s not because a certain Ferrari driver caught your eye?” Lewis teased as you walked toward the pitlane. Since there were no guards, you were free to let loose a little. 

“Oh Lewis, I see you’ve met my new friend!” A new voice joined as you two stepped outside of the garage. It was Ollie preparing for the sprint race.

“Oh, not who I thought,” Lewis said to himself as he turned and walked over to Toto and Kimi. Just before he got too far away, he turned around and shouted, “Good luck getting your parents’ approval!”

“What was that about?” Ollie asked as he walked up behind you.

“My parents are hard to please, and Lewis reads me better than I read myself,” You chuckled almost to yourself, but Ollie heard it.

“What do you mean about Lewis knowing you? How do you even know Lewis?” Ollie retorted as you both walked around his car. “Before you get into that, did you still want to sit in the car?”

“Yes, please!” You replied enthusiastically as you took his hand. He helped you get into the car before handing you the steering wheel, so you could have the full experience. You turned the wheel a few times, jokingly making car noises as you did so, causing both of you to laugh. “This is so cool and bigger than I imagined.”

“Could be because I’m taller than you,” Ollie answered offhandedly, leaning over the halo.

“Ollie, I loved hanging out with you yesterday. It was so fun to just be a normal person, doing normal people things for a day,” You started, looking up at him.

“Well, I don’t think this is considered ‘normal people things’, but okay,” Ollie chuckled, not understanding where you were going with this.

“It's more normal than I’m used to,” You chuckled as well. “Ollie, does my name ring any bells to you?”

“Not that I can think of,” Ollie trailed off, confused. “Should I?”

“Should you? Maybe. Do I want you to? No,” You admitted, looking back at the steering wheel. “Ollie, I like being with you, and I want to explore something with you. I’m just afraid when you find out who I am, you’ll leave. Everyone always does.”

“I won’t leave,” Ollie said immediately. “Anyone would be a fool to leave you because I’ve enjoyed being with you too. You’re fun to be around, and you make me feel like a normal teenager and not Ollie Bearman, the F2 driver.”

“And you make me feel like a normal teenager and not Lord/Lady Y/n Windsor, heir to the British throne,” You whispered back, shyly looking up at him. His jaw was dropped, but as soon as you made eye contact, he snapped his mouth closed. “Does that intimidate you?”

“Not really,” He tried to play off, but you saw straight through him as you gazed at him through your lashes. “Okay, a little, but so what? It’s only a little scary, but I’m willing to work for it.”

“Even if it means proving yourself to the Prince Edward and the Dutchess Sophie of Edinburgh?” You were afraid of the answer, but his response shocked you.

“I ready to work for it,” Ollie said immediately. “They’re Ferrari fans right?”

“They don’t really care about F1,” You chuckled. “They couldn’t care less, so you’ve got that going for you. They’ll probably appreciate that you’re British.”

“At least my nationality is benefiting me,” Ollie joked, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “At least I have that going for me.”

“And if you know any other languages, that might help,” You joked back. “They like multilingual people.”

“And luckily, I have to speak Italian to be in Ferrari and Prema,” Ollie quipped back quickly. “I also live in Italy, so it would be hard not to know the language.”

“Hate to break up a possible love story here, but Ollie needs to get in the car,” Lewis interrupted, and that’s when you noticed the mass amount of people staring at you. “He does still have a race to do.”

“I guess I can get out then,” You chuckled as Ollie helped you out of the car. He kept his arms around your waist as he steadied you on the ground. You pulled the mask down momentarily to place a short kiss on his cheek before whispering, “Good luck out there. I expect to see you on the top step.”

“I’ll try my best, but I’m starting 10th,” Ollie whispered back with a smile. “One of the cons of being on pole for the feature.”

“I’ll be manifesting for you to pull a Baku sweep again,” You said as you pulled away to stand by Lewis. You and Lewis walked over to the pit wall as the cars went out to the grid. Hopefully, Ollie could win this weekend.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

[myfictionaldreams]

Please Rest! // Steddie x f!Reader

Summary:You always wake up from date night feeling achy and exhausted and sometimes, you don't always prioritise your rest when you need it most. However, it seems great minds think alike where Steve and Eddie are concerned. 

A/N: Hello lovely readers, welcome to my new poly series that I have been absolutely obsessed with the idea of. I hope you love it just as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Of course, this doesn't mean my other series will be neglected, I'd just like to enjoy some time with my two favourite guys from Hawkins as well!

TW: discussion of reminders to eat, not with regards to ED but the conversation is repeatedly discussed.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, light angst, domestic bliss, dom/sub undertones, lots of pet names (no use of Y/N), fingering, teasing, begging, Sex in Eddie’s van, rough sex, multiple orgasms, subspace, creampie, overstimulation praise kink, delayed aftercare, outdoor sex, passing out, discussion of remembering to eat

Words: 10.5 k (hahah oops)

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Every day typically started the same. Sneaking out of bed in an attempt to not wake your boyfriends; brushing back unmanageable bed hair on both of their heads as you whispered goodbyes in the early morning hours. Before even the sun had crept over the horizon as you rose to attend the hospital where you worked as a student nurse.

Today however was a rare day, simply because: it was your day off. And yet, due to your natural alarm clock, you were still rising at the unnatural hour of the early morning. Tossing and turning did nothing to drag you back into the sleeping realm, even trying to cuddle closer to both the overheated bodies who you were sharing a bed with, but nothing seemed to help.

So once more, you were sneaking out of bed, moving steadily and with enough stealth that it would make one of the sleeping men proud. Even with the streetlamp outside illuminating the bedroom in a comforting orange hue, you still had to fumble dramatically across the floor until your fingers grazed over soft material, lifting it to your nose and taking a sniff. Vanilla, cedar and hairspray: Steve’s jumper.

A moment later you were pulling on the discarded jumper and a pair of your underwear that had also been left in the pile of yesterday’s clothes. Now partially dressed, you were able to make a pot of coffee and sit out on the porch and watch the sunrise whilst assessing just how much you were aching from the night before.

If you had a day off from the hospital, it usually meant one thing, date night followed by a thoroughly rough fucking, just as you liked it and now, you were feeling the effects today. All your muscles were aching and tender areas were littered underneath the skin from the restraints, spanks, grabbing and fucking from both men who were still soundly asleep.

It was your favourite pastime. If you had a day off then you’d all release the pent-up emotions with a hard fuck and then rest the following day which is exactly your plans for today. Maybe watch a movie or if you’re feeling extra exuberant then catch up on the laundry that seemed to be neglected in the corner of the bedroom from the past few days.

Your coffee was long finished by the time your body was warmed by the morning sun, the birds beginning to chirp awake with the rest of Hawkins. Well… most of Hawkins as you observed the car arriving and parking to the trailer across the yard. Eddie’s Uncle Wayne exited his car after finishing his night shift at the plant, probably on his way to bed but not before he turned in the direction of your shared trailer, seeing you there, raising his hand and giving you a wave which you responded with enthusiastically with a smile. It was an easy decision for you all to decide on sharing a trailer, it was cheap which was what you needed during your studies and it wasn’t like Steve and Eddie were making lots of money with their jobs. The trailer was quiet, out of the way and you were able to make the area yours, it worked for you all.

Deciding now was the perfect time for your second cup of coffee and maybe time for breakfast, you traipsed back into your little home, listening intently into the bedroom and still hearing two sets of snores notifying you that they were both still asleep.

Searching through the refrigerator that desperately needed filling with groceries, you shrugged, “Bacon it is”, muttering under your breath as you began to prepare breakfast. As the bacon cooked and you decorated the table, the alarm clock began blaring in the bedroom, followed by two exaggerated groans, arguing then a bang as the alarm was slammed off.

“Breakfast is ready!”, you cheerfully shouted, happy they were both somewhat awake now as it meant you were able to turn on the radio, something you’d been itching to switch on since waking up, instantly swaying your hips to the music. Vaguely in the background, there was thudding as someone tiredly shuffled out of bed and into the bathroom. A couple of seconds later, much more subtle steps could be heard as you stood over the stove.

Two naked arms wrapped around your waist, enveloping you in warmth and safety as lips settled into the base of your neck, moving as Steve mumbled, “Have I ever told you how much I love having you home in the mornings”. You smiled and leaned back into the solid chest, letting him hold you and sway on the spot for a second before needing to return to cooking the bacon.

Steve didn’t remove himself from you, his arms still caged around your waist, as he waddled tiredly with you as you continued to finish the breakfast. Only when the food was prepared and plated on the table did you succumb to the man behind you, turning on the spot, arms lifting and slipping around Steve’s shoulders, kissing his neck as you hugged him back.

Steve hummed into the morning cuddle, clearly half asleep still as his eyes had yet to open and his comfort only increased as your fingers easily ran through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face. “How long have you been awake?” Steve asked, voice still muffled against your throat.

Pulling back a fraction so that you could cup his cheek, kissing the tip of his chin as you replied, “My usual time”.

“Rough”, he admitted, finally opening his eyes and smiling down as he took in your appearance. “Good morning”, his voice was still thick from just waking up but the pure look he was giving you with his warm honeyed eyes.

“Good Morning”, you responded with your smile, tilting up on your toes so that you could kiss his soft lips for a second before asking, “Could you get the coffee for me, please”.

“Sure thing, baby”.

As soon as Steve had untangled his limbs from around your body and began walking back to where you left the pot of coffee, you were lifting back onto the tips of your toes as Eddie had snuck in, shirtless and with a nest of curls swooping in to cover your face as he pulled you into his morning hug.

“You smell like coffee and sex”, he croaked whilst tasting the skin of your jaw with lazy kisses, a smile tugging at his lips as he felt the warmth blossom across your cheeks. In turn, you tried to kiss along his cheek that was covered in stubble, a look he had been experimenting with for a couple of months, and a look you very much enjoyed as you reached his lips but your face was still covered in Eddie’s hair.

Lifting your fingers from where they had settled on his toned shoulders, you tried to tame his wild morning curls, brushing them out of the way but your fingers got caught in tangles. “And you smell”, you paused for a moment, breathing him in, “surprisingly nice, is that coconut?” 

Eddie eased back from the hug, a grin spread broadly across his face, his dimples deepening in his cheeks that had your heart beating faster. “New shampoo, courtesy of Nancy. Gotta keep the curls up”, he dramatically shakes his hair back, his curls bouncing with the movement.

The three of you had a blissful breakfast, sat around the circular dinner table, Steve in the middle, Eddie to his right and you on his left. “I’ll bring you both lunch today, if you want. What time do you have it again?”

“12”, Eddie answered first, pausing his glugs of overly sweetened black coffee.

“12 30”, Steve then answered, as he placed his now empty glass of orange juice onto the table and squeezed your thigh that he was idly stroking circles on with the pad of his thumb.

“Perfect!” you say, cradling one of Eddie’s mugs that Wayne had given you upon moving in, the warmth soaking into your fingers from your second cup of coffee.

“You know”, Eddie pondered, lowering his cup onto the table, “I’m pretty sure driving all across Hawkins to deliver us lunch, is not classified as resting”.

Shrugging your shoulders, you tried to hide your smile by biting it at his voice of concern. “I’m not feeling too bad today”, this was only a half lie as you were definitely aching but you also knew your limit. Risking a glance towards both men beneath your eyelashes, teasing them and no longer hiding your smile, “Maybe you both didn’t go hard enough on me last night”.

“Oh, is that how we’re going to play today?” Steve’s eyebrows raised as his thumb brushed across his lower lip as he shuffled close to you in the circular booth, intention shining brightly in his eyes.

As he inched closer, you moved away, the fear of the chase about to occur but then a thought crossed your mind as you glanced at the clock. “Maybe another time because you both have to leave in three minutes”.

In sync, both of their heads snapped towards the clock and then rushed to clamber out of the booth, a string of curses leaving their lips as they scrambled to quickly get ready for work. As they did so, you slowly gathered the dirty plates and cups to place into the sink to begin washing up whilst chuckling to yourself listening to the grunts and bangs are Eddie and Steve rushed to get ready for work. 

“What do you want in your lunch?” you shouted over your shoulder, turning your face slightly as in turn, they rushed to your side now fully dressed, hands on your waist as they lean in to kiss your cheek with an audible ‘mwah’.

“Anything, love you!” Steve was the first to kiss and exit, tugging on his green vest as he ran out of the door and jumped into his car.

“Everything on mine please, love you more”, Eddie shouted, stumbling as he attempted to tug his shoes on as he followed Steve out of the door, leaning through his car door to kiss him goodbye before climbing into his van.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their antics, muttering “love you too”, under your breath as you continued washing up.

The next few hours passed by slowly and you made sure not to rush, not that you were able to with the ache remaining in your muscles. You weren’t able to relax either though, feeling as if you were on edge with how quiet it was being by yourself in the trailer, even with the radio extra loud, you still felt unsettled. Most of the time, being home alone was not an issue however after such an intense night, it was unnerving to be by yourself and without the comfort of one of them there, it was hard to keep distracted. Even with your attempts to clean the trailer, thoroughly wash the lingering scent of last night's escapades off of your skin and then decided on a pretty floral dress that put no restriction on your achy muscles.

By the time you were preparing the sandwiches, cheese for Steve and ‘everything’ for Eddie which was more whatever was left in the fridge, a simple of ham, cheese, tomato and pickle, and finally a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for you, you were ready to run from the trailer to your boys. 

Eddie was right, although you would never admit this to him for a lifetime of gloating that would come of it; you needed to rest and after fussing around the trailer all morning, now you were exhausted. However, whenever you stopped, that feeling of sombre loneliness crept back so you were on your feet until it was a reasonable time to get into your car.

Your first visit would be to Eddie’s work which was a guitar shop called PickPlex where he was able to play with guitars all day and on the odd occasion give kids lessons. It wasn’t too far from the trailer so it didn’t take you long to pull up to the parking lot.

The bell above the door chimed as you entered and before even stepping in, a deep voice welcomed you from the desk. “Hey there Missy, haven’t seen you in a while, how are you keeping?” Craig the shop owner greeted you, a man in his late 50s with tattoos covering his neck and arms but his real nickname was the gentle giant.

“Hey, Craig! Yeah, it’s been a while, I’ve been working and it’s finally my day off so-”, you held up the bag of Eddie and yours sandwiches, “Lunches need to be delivered”.

As you stopped talking, you were able to spot a head full of black curls perk up behind a display of guitars. Eddie’s boyish grin spread across his face, eyes lighting up as he spotted you and instantly jogged over, the chain on his belt jingling against his thigh as he approached. The closer he was, the more you had to stifle your laugh at his unkempt uniform. Clearly from his rush this morning to dress, he’d thrown on his discarded button-up black shirt that was heaped onto the floor which meant that it was creased today and you couldn’t help but feel more affection for him as you noticed he’d scribbled on his red name badge, changing his name from Edward to Eddie.

“Hey Angel”, he purred as he stepped up to you, leaning down to kiss your lips softly.

Smiling up at the man you teased, “Are you talking to me, or the guitars?”

Eddie’s head tilted as he bit the inside of his cheek, his dimples threatening to deepen in a smile that he was holding back at your sass. “The guitars are Sweetheart, you are my Angel”, even though it was a teasing and casual conversation, his words still managed to have your heart racing, especially as he dipped his face to kiss your cheek.

“It’s her day off and you’re making her bring you lunch, Munson? Thought you were better than that”, Craig joked as he leaned on the countertop.

Eddie turned on the spot to address his boss, “I’ll have you know that she insisted on it. Is the back room free?” he asked, nodding his head behind Craig who was shaking his head.

“No fraid not, Shan’s in there, kid”, referring to his wife having her lunch break already.

Shrugging his shoulders, Eddie turned back towards you, taking your spare hand and dragging you back towards the door you just entered through, “No worries, we’ll just be in my van”.

Waving your fingers at Craig, you leave with Eddie, almost skipping with glee towards where he’d parked in the van in the corner of the parking lot, under a canopy of drooping tree branches. Reaching the sliding side door of his white and plum-coloured van, Eddie opened it up and held out his tattooed hand for you to take.

Grasping his large rough hand in your own, you savoured the feeling of his cold, chunky rings as Eddie uttered, “M’lady”.

“Why, thank you sir”, the word sort of just slipped out at his chivalrous actions and you noted the way his breath hitched at the word as he helped you into the back of his van. It was exactly as it had been when you’d first met him a year and a half ago, an old mattress on the floor space, covered in blankets, sheets and pillows as this used to be his favourite place to get high but since being with you and Steve, the place had become a lot more frequently used for other such doings.

Eddie clambered into the back of the van as you sat against some pillows, making yourself comfortable, and he swiftly slide the door close behind him, giving you both some privacy and also pushing you both into dimmer lighting as his back windows had long since been blacked out by sheets.

Holding up his wrapped sandwiches you began to list what was in them, “I hope you like this version of ‘everything’, so you’ve got ham, cheese and-”, your words instantly died in your throat as Eddie crawled on his knees towards you, hand gently grazing over your jaw before he was closing the gap between your mouths.

Your grip on the sandwich bags released instantly so that you could cling to the collar of his uniform, pulling him even closer. It became heated quickly as he settled between your thighs, a movement that had them aching from being in similar positions all night but you were very much ignoring that right now.

Eddies face tilted to deepen the kiss, his tongue pressing desperately against your sealed lips and you were more than happy to allow him entrance, moaning as you could taste the lingering cigarette and cola mixture from his earlier breaktime treats.

Just as your fingers slipped beneath his collar and began to scratch your nails against his scalp, a move that had him shivering and moving closer, he seemed to falter and regrettably pull back from the kiss. Both of your lips still hovered over one another as he stated, “Angel, you should eat”. The affectionate warmth returned to your chest as he continued to try and look after you after last night.

You did appreciate it and you were hungry but right now, you were also hungry for something else as you reached for his hands, linking your fingers together and once again savouring the contrasting temperatures between his fingers and jewellery. “I can eat with Steve”, you confidently state, moving your lips just past his to caress his cheek. It wasn’t your intention to come and fuck him in his van but you’d been so touch-starved these last few hours that you’d take anything he was willing to give you right now.

Eddie once again leans back so that he can bore his rich, chocolatey brown eyes into your own, his tone soft and yet demanding as he asks, “You promise me that you’ll eat with Pretty Boy?”

“I promise to eat with Steve”.

It took him a second to seem convinced of your promise before he was diving his face lower to your neck, stubble scratching and teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “I haven’t forgotten what you said this morning by the way”, he says, words muffled by his actions on your neck.

“What?” you ask breathlessly, all thoughts disappearing from your mind as your eyes closed and head tilting back to give him more room, your hands squeezing his hands in need to hold him close.

Eddie continued to explain as he explored up towards your jawline, “About not going hard enough last night, I think you need to be more careful with your wording, Sweetheart”.

You couldn’t help but grin at your words during breakfast and with the atmosphere thickening in Eddie’s van, a noticeable dampening between your legs as your pussy hummed in arousal. You knew you shouldn’t continue to taunt, especially after how rough it was the night before but your response was already dangling in front of you, teetering on the tip of your tongue. “Oh? So now I’m Sweetheart, am I?”

Eddie’s lips paused their exploration as he once again leaned back on his knees to look at your grin. You weren’t often a bratty person and hated any repercussions that came from it, especially from Eddie as he usually liked to be the meaner dominant between him and Steve so you were currently skating on thin ice. Instead of giving you an answer in return, he moved his body away slightly, hands letting go of yours but only so that they could grip your hips so that he was able to pull your body further down so you were now lying on the mattress, giving him better access to crowd over your body.

His curly hair cascaded around his face, shadowing his handsome features in the low light as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his crotch flush against yours, the material of your dress pushing up to naturally bunch around your waist. This touch was enough to distract you from the domineering response that was still pending to come from Eddie as he slowly rolled his hips, his jean-covered hardened cock pushing against your soaking panties.

Because you were watching his shadowed face, you didn’t notice one of his broad hands creeping towards the edge of your panties, where your thigh and pussy met, where you were most sensitive and the second his fingertip stroked the hem and skin, you were bucking your hips.

“I’ll call you, whatever I’d like to call you”, he seductively declares before his mouth opens, copying yours as you release a desperate gasp as his fingers dipped beneath your panties so that he could feel just how wet you were. “This all for me, Sweetheart?”, he emphasises the pet name as he lifts an eyebrow.

“Eds…Eddie, please”, you beg as he expertly takes his time to move up and down your folds, spreading your juices between your hole and up to your clit.

Your boyfriend gives you a condescending head tilt as his eyes seemed to darken to near pitch black as you keen into his hand, hips jerking to try and feel more. His face drops even lower so you can feel his warm breath teasing your cheek as he asks, “Please, what?”.

“Want to feel more of you, please fuck me, need to feel you there”. You were completely ignoring just how desperate you sounded at that moment, both Steve and Eddie always had to do the absolute bare minimum and you’d be melting in their palm and become a mess. With both of your hands with nothing to grip onto, you reached for his shoulders, feeling the muscles straining beneath as you hopelessly tried to pull him even closer but he was using his strength to remain in place and be in control.

Even with his fingers teasing your pussy, he still wanted to clarify just what you could handle as he voiced his concern, “Do you think you can handle me after yesterday? We did go pretty hard on you last night”. His hard exterior was chipping away as he contemplated whether to even continue this little lunchtime fuck.

He was waiting for your response and you’d already made up your mind; reaching between your bodies, you grasped his hand that was teasing the outside of your cunt and whilst moving that and your hips at the same time, you were able to coax his middle finger into your hole. Your back arched instantly, eyes closing and moaning deep within your chest at finally feeling some relief at being touched where you were needing.

“Fuck!”, Eddie curses under his breath, taking your actions as an answer enough as he began to regain composure and control by pushing your underwear further to the side, giving him better access to add another finger. In and out, he gently stroked your walls, finally leaning back down to kiss you feverishly once more, his tongue entering your mouth and dancing with your own.

Your fingers returned to gripping at his hair as your hips moved in sync with his coaxing fingers. The pleasure was blooming and tightening throughout your core as he used his guitar-playing, skilful fingers to touch all of the right spots, including his thumb circling your throbbing clit.

You were becoming overwhelmed, not just by his fingers but by also trying to kiss him and beg at the same time, your brain was confused about where to put your energy and in the end as your legs began to tremble and your mewls increased in pitch, all you could do was tip your head back and moan.

Eddie watched your every move with his own arousal going on the back burner as he made sure to spend the time looking after you, especially as you were so good for him last night. “Good girl, you’re taking my fingers so well, don’t hold back Angel”, he praised from above.

You couldn’t contain yourself even if you tried as your whole body trembled as your orgasm pulsed through your cunt, your fingers ached with how hard they were holding onto him, your thighs burning with the attempt to keep them wrapped around him. Eddie’s tried to swallow your moans up as he rushed to kiss you, lips lazily moving across one another before resting his forehead against yours as he slowly removed his fingers.

Greedily he brought them up to his lips, releasing his groans and eyes rolling back as he licked his fingers clean, “always taste so good. Now let’s get these off of you”. His hands moved to either side of your underwear and gently eased them down your legs and dropping them just behind him.

You watched his every move just as intently as he’d been watching yours as you tried to catch your breath, the van already feeling humid so a light dusting of sweat stuck to your skin. Eddie didn’t seem phased by the rising temperatures as he swiftly unbuckled his belt, pushing his jeans and boxers down only to mid-thigh, not wanting to waste time by fully removing clothes, only the essentials as he once again moved to hover over you.

“Let me see it”, he asked gently, dropping lower so that his chest brushed yours and all you could do was look into his handsome face. You knew instantly what he was referring to as you reached into your dress, tugging on the lengthy silver necklace and removing it from between your breasts where it naturally stayed, close to your heart. Eddie smiled softly, kissing your lips and then kissing the items attached to the necklace: two rings. One was the thick ring that he used to wear that had a black stone in the centre, and the other was a slim golden band from Steve, a present that had been given to him by his grandpa and now to you. It was nothing marital or even a promise ring for the reasoning that they gave it to you, just one day you were trying on Eddie’s rings and he offhandedly mentioned that you could keep it and Steve, never to be outdone removed the ring on his thumb and gave it to you. However, both rings were too large for your fingers so therefore you kept them on your necklace and now Eddie had the habit of holding onto them tightly whenever Steve wasn’t there to join your fun.

You couldn’t see his cock as he got comfortable above you, but you suddenly felt it as his tip stroked over your clit as he rocked his hips against yours. A desperate moan echoed around the van and Eddie had to quickly put his hand over your mouth as you became too loud. “Need to be quiet for me, yeah? This van isn’t soundproof, Angel”.

His lips were by your ear crowded into you, nice and close, making you feel small and trapped which is exactly how you liked it when feeling this needy and submissive. Your trembling fingers gripped onto the back of his shirt as he once again thrust forward, but this time finding its home as he began to slip into your hole. You tried to arch your back with the pleasure sparking across your body with the position you were simply held down.

“Fuck!”, Eddie cursed as his own eyes closed in ecstasy, savouring your warmth and tightness as he delved deeper into your hole. “Always so good for me, aren’t you Sweetheart? Always take my cock so well”, he praised again, followed by more curses as you squeezed around him to show how much you enjoyed his dirty talk.

Luckily Eddie wasn’t in a slow, teasing mood anymore as he began to fuck you fast and deeply, the van even began to rock from the momentum of your bodies. Anyone else who saw in the car park would evidently know what was going on which made it counterintuitive for him to cover your mouth but neither of you seemed to actually care in that moment.

Needing to feel more of him, your hands lowered to the edge of his shirt, and as it was already creased, he didn’t mind as you pushed it up and over his hips so you could touch his bare skin. The soft, unmarked areas of him were warm, just like the rest of him. However, your fingers found the deep, angry scars from the bite marks that he suffered during the attack on Hawkins a year and a half ago, which was conveniently how you met him and Steve as you were working the night they both turned up to receive treatment, Eddie more so then Steve. However now, both men had lasting scars from whatever creature had attacked them and the scars, they were like nothing you’d ever seen before. Visually they were like anything trying to heal, the redness fading with each month but when touching them, the scars were ice cold, as in, freezing cold, like they weren’t attached to his body. Steve always brushed it off as probably from a rabid animal, as they never told you what had bitten them but it was still unnerving to feel such contrasting temperatures on his midsection.

Eddie’s moans deep into your ear snap you out of your contemplative thoughts as he nuzzled into your neck, still holding the rings on your necklace and the other hand over your mouth. The sweat was causing his fringe to stick to his forehead but he didn’t care, his cock still throbbing and fucking into your cunt.

You wish you could beg, unsure of what exactly but you could feel yourself drifting closer to that peak once more. However, you didn’t need to verbalise this anyway as Eddie could already tell how close you were by how you were fluttering around his cock and how your fingers were gripping his back tighter. Eddie Munson seemed to know just about everything about you, there was no need to use words with him anymore.

“Sweetheart, you feel so fucking good, you wanna cum? Then cum for me, that’s a good girl, just like that”. You’re shaking once more with the intensity of the orgasm and it’s enough to have Eddie following you through with his own. Hips stuttered with its thrusts as he came deep into your pussy, filling you up with thick streams.

Eddie pants for a moment whilst trying to catch his breath before he seems to remember that he’s still covering your mouth and quickly slips his hand off but then replaces it with a searing kiss, which then moved along your cheek and tickles your jaw. You let out a delicate giggle which causes his softening cock to slip out as he groans deeply and collapses next to you on the mattress.

After a couple of seconds, he decided he couldn’t cope with the temperature anymore. Tucking his cock back into his boxers and buckling his jeans once more, he then crawled over to the back of the van, opening it up and allowing the cool whisps of wind to shiver along his skin. Luckily he had parked the van in such a way that the back of it faced a thickly wooded area so no one could see in to witness your half-dressed, thoroughly fucked state.

Eddie sat at the door, breathing in the fresh hair for a moment, fingers itching to reach into his back pocket for a smoke but he refrains as he knows your distaste for it. Instead, he sits back and admires you from where you lay, legs still spread and pussy dripping with his cum. “So pretty, such a shame that I have to ruin it”, he comments as he begins to awkwardly climb back through the van and reach over the bench behind you.

Even though you couldn’t necessarily see him, you knew he was searching for his hidden box of tissues that you had insisted be kept in the cars for impromptu moments like this. Returning to your side, you let him carefully clear you up and surprisingly his touches were soft enough that you weren’t wincing at the contact on your sensitive centre. After, he also helped you back into your underwear which was another shock as he usually liked to keep it in his pocket and tucked your necklace back into your dress.

You continue to lie there, feeling fuzzing and euphoric and he grins down at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief, “You should bring me lunch more often”.

Giggling at his comment, your hand reached across the mattress to hold his hand, “I agree, I love you”, you say in a whisper.

“I love you, too”, Eddie links your fingers together once more with one hand and idly checks the time on his wristwatch with the other. “Shit!”, he swears as his eyes widen checking the time. “You need to get going if you’re going to make it in time for Stevie boy’s lunch”.

Even though in the back of your mind, you were still aware of today's plans, it continued to feel like a momentous task to be snapped out of the fun buzz of the after-sex glow as you two began swearing and sitting up, ignoring the slight gush that seeped out of your pussy from the cum that was deeper inside of you as you tried to shuffle close to the sliding door. However, Eddie didn’t immediately open it as he took a second to assess your face.

“Are you going to be ok to drive? And we… we didn’t get time to cuddle or anything and I know after last night you might be feeling a little more needy and I-”, you lifted your fingers and pressed them to his lips to stop his stumbling words.

You appreciated his concern and even though you did feel slightly more floaty than you’d like, you didn’t want him to have to worry. So you plastered a fake smile on as you reached out to grab the two sandwiches, holding out Eddie’s for him to take as you explained, “I’ll be ok Eds, we’ll just have a quiet night tonight or something as we said. I’m sure I’ll manage. Now please can you help me out”.

Eddie took the sandwiches and jumped out of the van, holding out his arms for you to grasp and unsteadily stepped back onto the pavement. Your knees were trembling from the fucking so you had to cling to Eddie more than you would have liked to as he walked you back tur own car whilst stuffing his face quickly with his lunch. There, he held open the door and helped you get in, closing the door behind you and waiting for you to roll the windows down so he could lean into the open space.

Strapping your seatbelt across your body, you then held onto the steering wheel tightly, trying to steady your pounding heart as the tremble that had been in your knees now seemed to move throughout your body.

“Remember your promise to eat with Steve”, Eddie mentioned as he leaned in to kiss your temple and then your cheek. Nodding your head, you continued to smile up at him as you turned the ignition on. “Don’t have too much fun without me”, he jokes, finally leaning away from the car and giving you some room.

“I wouldn’t dream of it”, you laughed, waving out of the window as you drove off towards Family Video.

Since the attack on Hawkins, Steve had been promoted to manager of Family Videos with Robin as assistant manager, typically running the place by themselves. As you approached closer, you briefly checked into the rearview mirror, checking that you piously look as if you’d just been fucked, even though you could still feel the sticky feeling between your legs.

Parking directly outside of Family Videos, you tried to see through the glass to determine if it was busy but you couldn’t see a single customer and Steve was looking bored out of his mind behind the desk, his head resting heavily on his fist. Taking one last steadying breath and trying to regain composure, you grabbed the remaining two sandwiches and exited your car, eng into the video store.

With only one foot in the door, you were greeted by a shout of enthusiasm from your boyfriend. “Baby! Thank god! Robin, I’m going for lunch, don’t destroy the place!” You watched as Steve hopped over the desk, being careful not to knock the displays over. It was obvious that he had been desperately waiting for you to arrive so that he had an excuse to leave the madhouse.

“Wait, is my bestie here?”, Robin shouted from behind a rack of videos but Steve didn’t give you time to say hey as he grasped your hand and tugged out of the door you’d only just entered through.

“Hey Robin!” you shouted over your shoulder before being whisked away by Steve. You had to jog slightly to keep up with his long legs as he seemed to be taking you somewhere preplanned. “Where are we going?” you asked with a giggle as Steve seemed to snap out of his determined march and slowed his pace with an apologetic glance.

“I’ve got a little surprise for you”, he admitted, leaning down to kiss your temple as you squeezed his hand, hugging his arm to your front as he took you around the back of the store, through a small gap in the trees and into a little green area.

Your steps paused with shock as you finally saw his surprise. “Steve… is that?” your words trailed off as your eyes widen.

“It’s not much, just thought we could have a little picnic, it’s not often we get to have lunch together”. You had to bite your lip to keep the tears from welling in your eyes, already feeling a little sensitive emotionally, it didn’t take much of a soft move from Steve to have your emotions brimming. “Baby, what’s wrong? If you don’t like it, we can do something else”, Steve looked worriedly down at you as you quickly shook your head, smiling genuinely up at him.

“I love it! You didn’t have to do all of this for me”. The closer the two of you approached, the faster your heart pounded in your chest. It truly wasn’t anything exaggerated, especially as this seemed to have been a spontaneous surprise but he’d found a small checkered blanket, one that you recognised from Eddie’s van that he must have stolen this morning, there was a medley of coke cola cans and chocolate bars that you also recognised but this time from the vending machine from the arcade that was next to the video store and lastly was a wireless radio that was playing the latest Madonna song. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Steve blushed at your gushing compliments, accepting a kiss on the cheek before helping you to sit in the centre of the blanket. “How was Eddie?”, he asked casually as he sat beside you, his hair bouncing and moving in the wind, despite the copious amounts of hairspray that he’d hastily put in this morning in his rush to get ready.

You were glad to already be hiding your face behind the can of pop as you tried to hide your embarrassed expression. “Yeah, it was good!”, you tried to sound as casual as possible, not sure why you weren’t admitting to the fucking but you didn’t want to burst the little date bubble by detailing how Eddie had been pounding you in the back of his van not that long ago. “Missed you though”, you added for good measure, placing the can down and beginning to crawl over to Steve as the overwhelming need to be touched returned, just wanting to be close to him, his hands on you, even if was just to hold your own.

“Oh yeah? What did you miss about me?” he teasingly asked as he extended his legs, hands already reaching for you as you straddled his lap. Your fingers played with the softer hair at the nape of his neck, leaning close to lay butterfly kisses along his cheek whilst his hands settled over your hips, holding you as close as possible.

“I’ve missed everything; your lemon shampoo, your perfectly shaped jeans…your sass”, his hands tightened on your waist as you spoke, a smile spreading on both of your faces at you poking fun at him. But then your tone lowered as you hovered over his lips, “I’ve missed you looking at me, your hands touching my skin… among other parts”, you ground your hips down for emphasis, once again ignoring the ache in your muscles and recently used pussy.

Steve groaned as his hands moved lower and beneath your dress to gently stroke over and tickle the backs of your thighs. “Careful Princess, don’t you think we had enough fun last night, we don’t want to take things too far”. Even though he was enjoying your burst of need with the tightening of his jeans, you could see and hear the hint of concern. 

“We had lots of fun last night but it just makes me crave you more”.

Maybe you should have listened to the little voice at the back of your conscious telling you to relax and rest but like any time you are with Steve and Eddie, you were consumed with lust and desire.

Your lips moved against Steve’s, softly at first, like you were both holding back from taking the plunge but as you once again rubbed your pantie-covered core against his tented cock, the reserved nature that Steve was holding onto snapped.

His moaned, deep in his throat and vibrated up his chest as he carefully led you down on the blanket, his hand cradling the back of your head as he began his exploration with his mouth, over your cheeks and to your ear, nibbling your lobe with his teeth, causing your back to arch for more stimulation.

“So beautiful”, he muttered against the shell of your ear as his hand skimmed over your chest and squeezed your breast through the material of your dress and bra. It was your turn to moan as your fingers danced over his shoulders, gripping the edges of his emerald family videos vest, unsure whether to continue taking it off as you were both relatively close to the public.

“Will.. will anyone find us here?”, the question lay thick in the air, the deciding factor as to just how far this lunchtime play could continue.

Leaning his weight on his arm next to your head, he contemplated for a moment, his handsome features twisting as he determined how safe it was from people. “How about this, clothes on and we have to keep our voices down, how does that sound?”

Instantly there were flashbacks to not that long ago with Eddie in similar circumstances and going against your better judgment, you sealed the deal with a searing kiss. Steve had his hands back on you a second later, still keeping your clothes on as he continued to squeeze your breasts and you knew he was desperate to get them out, he always had an obsession with your tits, sucking and playing with them whenever he had the opportunity.

The two of you made out for a while until breathless and your lips were swollen from the friction. He always tasted just as good as Eddie, whereas he was cola and cigarettes, Steve today tasted like chocolate from an earlier bar that he must have eaten whilst using the vending machine. His taste, his touch, his smells, everything drew you to him, almost the opposite of Eddie and yet they were so similar in others.

Needing to feel more of him, you shift your lower half down so that your hips were rolling against each other. Steve could sense your urgency to be touched as he promised against your throat, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll look after you”.

His hands gathered yours, linking both of your hands in one of his, lifting them over your head and then holding them there so you were pinned beneath him. With his spare hand, he began to undo his belt and zip, easing his throbbing cock from out of its restraints and then to your clothed centre, pulling your ruined underwear to the side.

His precum-covered tip brushed against your hole and Steve cursed, leaning up to look down at your aroused expression. “Fuck, you’re so wet Princess, really are needy aren’t you?”

Once again that was a perfect opportunity to tell him that mixed in with your juices was Eddie’s cum but all words disappeared from your thoughts as he began to fuck into your hole. Slowly as he could, he made sure to watch your reaction to assure that you were feeling comfortable which you were as you had to bite your lip to keep your moans to a reasonable volume. 

“You look so good like this, all desperate and ready for my cock, Baby”, Steve observed, his brown eyes wide and trying to take in every detail. You were trying to do the same but the euphoric, floating sensation had only increased, almost like you were drunk and Steve was the only thing anchoring you to the moment.

Unlike Eddie, Steve was slow with his fucking, rocking your bodies together, tension building and tightening in your core as you could feel the ridges and veins along the shaft of his cock. It felt almost naughty to be fucking outside, where anyone could stumble upon you both and it was exhausting having to keep your voice to a quiet volume. You were tempted to ask him to cover your mouth just like Eddie had but you were distracted by his lips casually moving against yours every so often.

You weren’t even able to moan his name out, even though you toted too, in fear that you would end up screaming out in ecstasy so you held onto the hand only both of yours down and moved with his hips.

“That’s it, one more for me, you’re doing so well, feel so good, Baby”, Steve encouraged and praised after you orgasm and quivered about him. You were already oversensitive due to the last 24 hours of fucking so as he continued to fucking you through the pleasure, one orgasm turned into two. You had to bite his shoulder to keep the moans and whimpers at bay and seeing you unwind so much beneath him, Steve’s eyes finally closed as his hips stilled.

He pumped his cum into you, breathing heavily into your ear as he kissed you sweetly across your face. Steve remained close over you, noticing how much longer it took for your pussy to stop pulsing around him, as well as the tension throughout your body taking longer than normal to relax until you were melting into the blanket once more. Steve had planned to have an extended lunch break with you, so he could stay wrapped around you when you needed him most but not everything always goes to plan.

“Steve?!” Robin shouted in the distance which had both of you tensing and looking in the general direction of the voice. “I’m sorry for interrupting your… canoodling time but you said to come and get you if the delivery guy turns up and well... The delivery guy is here!”

“Shit! Shit shit shit!” Steve whispered to himself as he made sure to carefully pull out of you and then began tucking himself back in. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been waiting for this delivery all week and they were supposed to be here all morning and- shit!” Steve angrily ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the style but it still looked effortlessly good like usual.

In your blur of feeling exhausted and foggy, his panic seeped through and seemed to clear some of the blur that was in your consciousness. “It’s ok Steve, honestly don’t panic, it’s fine”, you try and say without sounding too muffled as your tongue suddenly felt too big for your mouth. Wiggling the feeling back to your fingers, you quickly moved your underwear back to normal, ignoring the significant gush that poured out of your pussy as you sat up, your underwear was thoroughly ruined now.

“It’s not fine, I don’t want to leave you like this, especially after last night-”, Steve’s words were cut off as you leaned over and placed your fingers over his lips.

“It’s fine Steve, really it is. I’ll just see you when you’re home, do you want me to help you clean up the picnic?”

Steve smiled against your fingers, kissing them before tugging them away, “No don’t worry about this, I’ll come back and clean this later. Are you sure you’ll be alright? I mean, you’ve still got to drive back home. You could always come and sit behind the desk with me. But we don’t have a chair or anything but I could make it work”. Fondness warmed through your body as you shook your head.

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll be ok, think it’ll probably be better if I go home and shower…again”. Steve nodded and cupped your cheek, kissing you softly before standing and righting his clothes before holding out his hands for you to take.

You did with a toothy smile, hoping the happiness reached your eyes as he carefully helped you stand which took a good 30 seconds for your legs to stop trembling. “All good”, you confirmed when you could take a step without the fear of falling. Steve then reached down and picked up the forgotten-about sandwiches, holding yours out to take. “Thanks, I’ll have these when I’m home and showered”.

Steve smiled before saying, “Please make sure you eat these and maybe before showering just so you have some energy”. You nodded your head at his suggestion, taking his hand once more and began walking with him back towards Family Videos.

Outside the building there was a large van, unloading boxes of what looked like the latest video releases that Steve needed to sign for.

You wouldn’t admit it but with every step that you took towards your car, you felt uncomfortable due to the wetness between your legs and you were worried for a moment that it would leak through and drip down your thighs but thankfully with Steve’s fast pace the two of you were by your car.

You released a relieved sigh once back sitting down, the exhaustion returning once more as Steve leaned through your open window, just like Eddie had as he helped you with your seatbelt. “Are you sure you’ll be ok to drive?”

“I’ll be fine Steve, I hope the delivery goes ok”, you say before puckering your lips for him to kiss.

He did just that with a low chuckle before tapping the roof of your car, “Love you, please get home safely!”

“Love you too!”, you shouted, waving out of the window as you reversed out of the parking spot and drove in the direction of home. With each mile that passed, you could feel yourself becoming more dazed and floaty, not even needing the comfort of the radio as you were mostly on autopilot with your directions.

Finally, as you parked up in front of your trailer, it all seemed to hit you as you just stared at your home. Yesterday's activities and today’s had thoroughly exhausted you, struggling now to even keep your eyes open, body trembling with the effects of all the adrenaline that had been pumping through your body. You didn’t want to move, didn’t have the energy to move as you leaned your forehead against the cool window that you’d just rolled up. Closing your eyes, a deep sleep settled throughout your body.

The sun was beginning to set over the place you called home when the plum-coloured BMW drove down the path to his home, whistling the tune blaring through the radio as he took note of the fact that Eddie wasn’t home yet. Steve had a skip in his step as he climbed out of his car, shrugging off his uniform vest and pushing on the porch door, expecting it to open as you were home but it didn’t budge. Frowning he pulled out his keys from his pocket, the jingle of them the only noise around the area as he opened up the door.

“Baby? Why’d you lock the door?”, he shouted into the trailer, about to kick off his shoes when he noticed just how silent the place was, there weren’t even any side lamps on like there usually were when you were home alone. “Princess?”, he called again, quickly searching through the rooms, confused here you were because he was next to your car, maybe you’d gone to visit Wayne he finally decided.

Stepping back out of the trailer with the intent of walking to Eddie’s uncle's trailer, it suddenly felt like ice had been poured over his entire body as he finally found you, eyes closed and leaning against the window of your car. “Babe?!” Steve shouted loud enough that the birds resting on the branches of the surrounding trees flew away.

Opening the door, he quickly caught you before you toppled out of the car, dropping to his knees he cupped your face as you began to slowly wake up. “What’s wrong? Are you ok? Talk to me, please!”

“Hmm?” you mumble, eyebrows furrowing as you stretched and opened your eyes, completely disorientated and feeling even more exhausted than before. “Steve? I’m ok, just tired”. You nuzzled into his warm hands, closing your eyes again trying to chase that link back to falling asleep.

Steve released a heavy sigh, realising what had happened, and as he stroked both of your cheeks with his thumbs, he leaned forward to kiss your temple in relief. “Have you been asleep all afternoon?” he asked, glancing at the seat beside you and seeing the uneaten lunch you had prepared as you nodded yes in answer to his question. “Come on, let's get you inside.”

Steve felt guilt sitting heavily in his stomach at seeing how much you were struggling to stay awake, still in your ruined underwear, hungry and needing a lot of care. “Do you need me to carry you inside or do you think you can walk?”

“I can walk, just need to hold onto you”, your response was still done with your eyes closed and leaning into his touch. You were slow and let out little whimpers as you move your legs, the muscles burning intensely but you still were determined to walk, knowing that Steve was feeling bad. 

As the two of you walked in, his arm wrapped around your waist so that he could take a lot of your weight and help you into the home. “Let’s go to the bathroom, get you in a warm bath”. As the water heated and began to fill the tub, you used the toilet, as Steve helped you to tiredly remove your clothes, not caring that he was seeing you in such a vulnerable state and you sighed in relief as your ruined, soaked underwear was removed.

“Careful now Princess”, Steve held your arms as you stepped into the bath, groaning loudly as the water eased the muscles throughout your body as you finally led down and felt some more relief. “Do you think I can leave you for a moment to go and make something for you to eat? You won’t fall asleep will you?”

Now that you were surrounded by warmth and Steve, alertness had returned to you so you gave him a loving smile as you nodded for him to go, not feeling the overwhelming need to be asleep.

When he returned, he sat next to the bath and fed you a freshly made sandwich, stroking your temple with the other hand. “I really did a number on you”, he pondered as he still was looking at you with his sad puppy dog eyes.

“Wasn’t just you”, you responded with a mouth full of bread.

“What do you mean?”

Swallowing the food, you decided to finally tell him, “It was Eddie too but I don’t regret it, both of you made me feel good”.

Steve’s shoulders dropped slightly, “You should have told me, I wouldn’t have gone so hard-”.

“You didn’t go hard Steve, I’m just tired that’s all, I wouldn’t have changed anything that’s happened”, you turned to face him fully, leaning over the edge to give him a sweet kiss that seemed to settle his nerves slightly.

This was when the porch door opened and closed, “Hello? Where is everyone?” Eddie shouted.

“In here!” Steve hollered over his shoulder, feeding you another bite of the sandwich.

“Ah there you guys are, and having fun without me it seems, I hope he’s treating you well Sweetheart”, Eddie grins at the sight before him, kicking off his shoes before entering into the bathroom. First, he cupped Steve’s jaw, tilting his head back to give him a lingering kiss, then he rested his hands on the edge of the tub, lowering his body to kiss the tip of your nose and then your mouth, even though you were midchew. “Having fun in there?”

“Yep! I’m having a very peaceful time, thank you”.

Eddie joined Steve on the floor, undoing a few of his buttons to become comfortable before noticing the tension still in Steve’s jaw. “What’s wrong with you? Did you have to rewind too many videos today?” Steve gave Eddie a deadpan expression before sighing and ruffling his hair and glancing back at you as you quietly stared between the two men. Eddie eyed the two of you with a questioning gaze, “Seriously, what's going on? Are you ok?” he shifted closer and lay a comforting hand on Steve’s tense shoulder.

It wasn’t Steve that answered but you, “Steve’s feeling a little guilty because he found me asleep in the car after we ALSO had some fun at lunch”.

Steve sighed, rubbing circles into his temple, “I didn’t know you guys had sex at lunch otherwise I wouldn’t have done it too, we needed you to rest today. You weren’t just asleep in the car, you were passed out and you hadn’t eaten, hence the sandwich”.

Eddie now turned his disappointed gaze to you, “Sweetheart, I made you promise to eat with Steve”.

Now it was your turn to look guilty and hide away from both of their looks, “I know and I did plan to but then- I don’t know, he was so warm and smelled so nice and one thing leads to another”. You were trying to get Steve to smile but neither man seemed to be falling for the flattery or joking tones so you sighed, “I’m sorry ok? It wasn’t like I had it all planned that this would happen, and I know I needed to take it easy and rest today with last night. Safe to say I’ve learned my lesson, no more fucking the day after date night”.

“Right you are”, Eddie mumbles, kissing your hand before his eyes brightened with an idea. “Tonight you are strictly doing nothing, do you understand me? Stevie here is going to cook, and we’ll pick a movie to watch and cuddle on the couch. And absolutely under no circumstances will there be any more fucking, understood?” You and Steve nodded at his rules but Eddie was now looking at Steve, “Unless you’re up for it later big boy, we’re still not off limits”.

This finally pulled a smile to the corner of Steve’s lips as he glanced at his boyfriend, leaning over to kiss his cheek before standing, muttering that he’ll go and look at what it is for him to cook.

Eddie then stood too, leaving and returning a moment later with one of his old oversized jumpers that had a graphic of an old comic, flaking on the back of it. “Let’s get you out and warm Sweetheart”.

Having been sitting down for so long, your legs were unstable once more so you clung to Eddie who didn’t care that he was getting wet, wrapping you thoroughly in a fresh towel and helping to dry your body before dressing in his jumper. After, he made sure you were comfortable back in the living room on the couch, the blanket from the bedroom thrown over your lap.

He didn’t return for a few minutes as he dressed out of his work clothes in grey joggers, an old black sabbath shirt and his hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of his neck. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted a warm drink or a cold one so I brought both”, he declared, standing before you with a cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“Thank you Eddie”, you smiled lovingly up at him, accepting the cup of coffee before huddling back against the couch, manoeuvring your body around until comfortable with Eddie half wrapped around you, your head resting on his chest.

He’d selected Star Wars, which you should have anticipated as it was usually his choice of film when it was his turn to pick a movie. Steve joined the two of you not long after, moaning under his breath at the choice of the movie as he handed the two of you a plate full of food, even though you’d just eaten, you were more than ready to eat again.

They both stuck to their word and wouldn’t even let you help them to wash up the dishes. Movie night then turned into watching the sunset out on the porch, gathered in a bundle of warm limbs and blankets as Eddie’s music played from the open window of the bedroom. You had fallen asleep before seeing the sun disappear over the edge of the trees, only briefly waking up as you were gently laid down in the centre of the bed, not bothering to open your eyes as you heard Steve and Eddie quietly talking to one another about which side they were going to sleep on. Only when both of their arms wrapped around your middle did you finally let the comfort of sleep encompass your mind, regretting nothing from the day and already looking forward to waking up with another day with your boyfriends.

[intuitive-revelations]

Theory: Something serious is up with the TARDIS

I had been wondering about this all series, but after Rogue today, it's finally been confirmed that something's going on with the TARDIS (on top of all the other arc threads going on!).

The moment I picked it up was in The Devil's Chord, where the TARDIS makes a strange groan and creaks after landing back in 1963. Ruby thinks it's from Maestro, but the Doctor says it's "something else". As of today it's happened again, twice! Once in the episode itself, once in the next time trailer. The exact same sound effect!

Someone on reddit pointed out a few weeks ago that this sound appeared even earlier too, in Wild Blue Yonder (notably also when we first saw Susan Twist, had gravity changed to mavity, and welcomed the Pantheon into the universe). Each time, it's also had attention drawn to it. Here's a video of each scene, followed by a direct comparison of each sound:

(I did have a quick glance to see if it appeared elsewhere, maybe even during Flux. As far as I can tell however, Wild Blue Yonder seems to be the only non-S14 appearance.)

What's more, going back to that Reddit thread, someone pointed out what the Wild Blue Yonder script says about this moment:

And then the TARDIS seems to moan. The Doctor fascinated. DONNA: Is it working? THE DOCTOR: I think so. Strange. He reaches out, touches the TARDIS, wondering. And that 'strange' will come back to haunt him, one day. But now...

(Suddenly the TARDIS freaking out over Donna's spill might make a bit more sense...)

So what the hell's going on?

Well, between a trailer scene and some news that just came out a few hours ago as of writing this, I think I may have an idea. Given it's based on trailer footage uploaded and then removed from YouTube, I'll put it below beneath a read more:

In a removed Disney+ teaser trailer we get two frames of the Doctor screaming out into space (with Mel behind him). Except it's not from "his" TARDIS:

It's the f*cking memory TARDIS!

And here's the thing. Not only was this trailer scrubbed from the Disney+ and BBC channels, but in the other trailers, this clip is entirely different! Not only is Mel gone, but the TARDIS interior is now Fifteen's own, and the TARDIS is in a different, generic region of space.

Just before this, we also see a similar nebulous region of space matching the unmanipulated clip.

But why on Earth is this such a big deal, that the BBC/Disney would go full MCU and give us a deliberately altered clip? The only previous time I remember Doctor Who doing this was for Series 10, hiding the plot point of the Doctor's blindness. It's not because of Mel, who literally appears in the released trailer. It's also seemingly not because of the background, despite it also being altered (unless the two moons are a clue with the planet being Gallifrey or something - the thought had occurred to me - but that's such a tiny detail, and we also only see one sun). Instead, it must be the Memory TARDIS. But why?

In-universe, I have no idea. On one hand I'd be delighted to get some answers as to its nature. Assuming it's connected to the groans we've been hearing, then it could be the TARDIS undergoes some sort of metamorphosis into this state? But we've seen the TARDIS change all the time, whether for safety, to recover or whatever. I also can't imagine general audiences are falling over themselves to find out the in-universe explanation for a Classic Who re-release framing device. Not to mention, apparently the sound will go on to "haunt" the Doctor...

...maybe the TARDIS straight up is taken out of commission in some way? And the Memory TARDIS isn't the same ship, but the Doctor's way of saving the day without her? Maybe even remembered into existence Fitz/Amy style?

Out of universe however, it's just been announced yesterday that we're getting more Tales of the TARDIS.

And not just more omnibus stories with past characters returning for in-universe commentary... but with Fifteen and Ruby! What's more, it's apparently a one-off, right before the finale (but, note, after the first part next week).

Which means it's important. Possibly extremely so, given the edited trailer scene. It might even serve as an interquel, given Fifteen and Ruby are somehow in it.

I've seen two common theories. Either a) it will be Pyramids of Mars, and we're getting Sutekh in the finale (presumably with Fifteen and Ruby partially because of bringing back Elizabeth Sladen obviously not being an available option - and even if you thought up another character, eg. Luke, I doubt Tom would be interested, at that point anyway), or b) it will be something tying into Susan returning.

Honestly between the remaining trailer clips (eg. sandstorms and dusty planets), a tease RTD supposedly gave in DWM, and an old interview with him where he supposedly floated the idea of bringing back a Classic Who for a finale and airing the original serial on BBC3 beforehand, I'm kinda leaning towards the prior, even though it wasn't at all on my radar.

However, this still doesn't actually answer what's up with the TARDIS.

It could quite literally be anything. However, here's a few ideas, some reasonable some weird, that I have come up with:

Old age / stress. This is a weird one, but oddly enough something I had thought of once in the past, and I just saw someone else come to the same idea on Reddit. The idea is that while the Doctor has a new regeneration cycle and now a good few years, if not decades or more, of rest and recovery, the TARDIS may struggling in it's own right (especially if it is somehow old enough to have once been the Fugitive Doctor's). However, while this could be something interesting to explore, and I think isn't entirely mutually exclusive with other options, I can't imagine going anywhere near a storyline of the TARDIS itself 'wearing thin'. Besides, if we did, I like to imagine it would have been foreshadowed with size leakage, as per Name of the Doctor.

Relating to the above, could it be something linked to the TARDIS splitting in The Giggle? However, the sound starts before then (not that that means much to the TARDIS, but still).

Laws of rationality breaking down. This one makes the most sense in a lot of ways, between the expanded universe (particularly Christmas on a Rational Planet) and Flux, we've seen the TARDIS cannot survive in an irrational universe. While time has stabilised for now, we're still seeing magic and other Old Time forces encroaching in on the Web of Time. I'm a bit torn with this one however, as while it works from a lore and writing perspective, plus matches with this starting in Wild Blue Yonder (right after the Mavity incident... interestingly), it seems odd it's not more connected with what happened in Flux? Why are the sounds and effects on the TARDIS completely different?

Something to do with the Doctor's fobwatch. In Rogue, the Doctor blames the sound on indigestion. We know we're getting more Timeless Child related stuff - could this somehow be linked to Thirteen dropping the Division biodata module deep into the TARDIS? Would be a weird time to pick this up though, and I'm not sure exactly how that would have had such an effect.

The most actually likely, but least possible to theorise about: it's something time-wimey to do with Ruby, the villain(s) of the story, and/or Susan Twist, especially given this started after her first appearance.

Regardless, I'm just excited to see what's up with the Memory / "Remembered" TARDIS, because it's seems we're about to learn something...

[felix-krain]

An analysis of Resh's design

Based on what we have so far from Two Embers.

By me, a very sane and normal person that likes Resh a normal amount /j

Okay so: I want to start from the very basic stuff. Namely their design as Alef. In the beta concepts Alef had a full star mask (like Resh) but from what we've seen so far they appear to look like a regular kid. Well yes, but also no

I really like this tiny detail they left on their mask. It may not be a full star mask but they did leave those little spikes to make it recognizable. Also Alef seems to be a normal ancestor kid without the little light on the chest that characterizes skykids (I know they DO have it in one of the trailers but that trailer is very old and you can clearly see that their design was altered ever since, none of the new trailers show it) but we don't really know their origin yet. That said let's get to the main point

THIS FUCKER

Unlike popular opinion I don't believe Resh to be bald. Mainly because we can see the folds in what appears to be fabric covering their head during this shot here. Overall their design seems to be a simplified version of their beta one.

One interesting thing to notice is the fact that we never fully see their mask so we cannot confirm it to have four points (especially considering their child one only has three)

They also appear to have their entire body covered up. The head is covered by the hood and the mask, they wear a long sleeved vest and gloves. All of this covered additionally by their cape. We don't really see even an inch of their skin, which is quite interesting...

If we look back at the corrupted King theory we could assume this total coverage of the body could be to hide the rocks growing on their skin

As we have previously seen other characters from Two Embers suffering with this corruption/disease

So... maybe?

They appear to be wearing a robe like other ancestors, an especially long one for that matter. Yet the peculiar thing is that (at least from this shot) they almost appear to not be wearing shoes. I would guess they would be wearing sandals, even though, if we take the previous "all skin covered" fact, it would be pretty odd to leave the feet uncovered but idk, this scene doesn't give a clear enough image for me to speculate

From this information here we can kinda understand their entire design (even if they are never fully shown from the front) but I guess only new trailers (or the series itself) will confirm or deny anything

That said, I am very normal about the fact that we have ACTUAL 3D content of them after SO LONG and I absolutely DID NOT explode yesterday when the trailers came out (/j I did.)

[lovebugism]

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” with a grumpy scrooge eddie!! maybe he and reader move into a new neighborhood with friendly neighbors who go all out for christmas and are always caroling? i can’t imagine the people of hawkins showing up at his door lol

ty for requesting :D — the metalhead freak gets stuck with a bunch of carolers and runs to his girl for comfort (established relationship, fluff, eddie "loves being babied" munson, 1.2k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Eddie moves to the nice side of Hawkins with you. Not the suburbs, exactly, but pretty damn close. 

It’s a house with stairs and a sliding back door, both of which only existed in movies for a kid who grew up in a trailer park. The backyard is fenced in, too — big enough for a dog. A couple of them, even. And maybe a pool if his music career takes off. The realtor also told you that the school district is “to die for,” and even though that’s not really an issue right now, Eddie figures it’ll be important sometime soon.

These are all things you’re supposed to care about when you’re settling down with someone you can see a future with. Eddie thinks so, at least. He can see himself getting old with you, in this house and on that front porch. He’ll be holding your hand on your afternoon walks until both of yours are spotted and wrinkly.

The only bad thing about life (halfway) in the suburbs is running into all the assholes he used to know in high school. Vicki Carmichael was walking her too-expensive dog yesterday morning, and the afternoon before that, Tina Burton had the whole cul-de-sac down the street shut down for her kid’s first birthday party. What the hell is a one-year-old even supposed to do with a bouncy house?

It’s totally trippy. 

But Eddie’s been able to avoid them well enough. Or maybe everyone else is avoiding him. Either way, he’s grateful.

“No— where are you going?” you whine as Eddie slides open the glass door of the shower. You’re still getting used to being able to do this with him now that you’ve moved into the new place. The bathroom back at the trailer was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“I’m already done, and you’ve barely even started,” he answers, laughing at the dramatic desperation in your voice. 

He steps onto the plush mat outside the tub and wraps a towel around his tattooed hips. Steam flows out, and the outside cold swoops in. It pricks your skin and makes you shiver. You duck under the faucet for warmth until he closes the door behind him.

“You’re gonna be in here forever, and I’m gonna get all pruney,” Eddie insists, right before shaking out his damp curls like a wet dog.

“You usually like it when I take my time,” you joke, laughing when it makes him silent.

Eddie’s brain gets all foggy at your words. Worse than the heavy steam filling up the bathroom. He’s contemplating whether or not to jump back into the shower with you — and really let you “take your time” — but a knock on the door throws a wrench in his plans.

“Can you get the door for me, honey?” you ask just to tease him, ‘cause you know he’s milliseconds away from pressing you against the shower wall.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, and then ultimately decides he never will again.

Eddie leaves the warmth of the bathroom, shoves on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that do little to protect him from the bitter cold outside, and finds a number of familiar faces standing on his porch. 

It’s an entire crowd of people who used to bully him in high school — plus a bunch of snotty private school kids — all dressed up in the most horrendous, white-bread Christmas outfits the world has ever seen.

“Oh, shit…” Eddie mumbles under his breath, the evidence of his words leaving in a thin white cloud. He hadn’t even meant to say them out loud. They just sorta spilled out in the moment. Honestly, he thinks he might be dreaming.

The town’s resident metalhead is forced to sit through a botched rendition of Deck the Halls and Holy Night. And since you’re still in the shower, you can’t even swoop in to save him from it all. He just suffers through the half-out-of-tune caroling while his drying hair frizzes, a wavering smile of confusion stagnant on his face. 

When they’re finally gone, Eddie shuts the door with a chest-deflating sigh. He isn’t totally sure he’s taken a single breath since he opened the damn thing.

“Who was that?” you call from the top of the stairs, a fuzzy towel clutched to your chest. The warm scent of your body wash flows from the opened bathroom door and down the steps.

Eddie turns to look up at you from the bottom of them. He feels so suddenly drained. Like he just ran a marathon or pulled an all-nighter — something utterly exhausting that’s taken a piece of his soul. Maybe it’s dramatic, but he feels a little like his suffering has stripped ten years off his life.

“Remind me again why we can’t kill the carolers?” he jokes as he trudges up the stairs, the railing of them lined with glowing garlands.

“Those were carolers?” you gape, eyes wide and brows raised to your hairline.

Answering the door isn’t really Eddie’s thing. Conversations with strangers at the door aren’t really his thing, either. You think he might’ve just lived through one of his greatest fears.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, laughing through an exhausted sigh. He walks to your shared bedroom and flops on the center of the bed. A heavy sigh falls from his lips like he just got done working a twelve-hour shift. 

You’d laugh at his dramatics if you thought they were anything but totally real. So instead, you sit gingerly beside him, careful to keep your towel from falling, and try to comfort him without giggling.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” you mutter, rubbing a palm up and down the length of his back. You’re grateful he can’t see your smile from this angle, lest he think you aren’t taking this seriously.

“Oh, don’t be,” he tells you, muffled into his pillow. Sarcasm drips from his honeyed lips like venom. “It was tons of fun seeing Jason fucking Carver on our doorstep.”

“Jason was out there?” you gape, a little louder than you mean to. Your shock is palpable.

Eddie huffs and turns onto his back. “Yeah— did you know he has a kid now?”

“What?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods with a small smirk. The life returns to the chocolate of his eyes now that he can gossip. “She was a really cute baby, you know, considering. The odds weren’t really in her favor there.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder and cup his jaw with a warm hand. Your thumb rubs gently over the flushed apple of it, tinted cold from the outside weather. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” you tell him, half playful but with a sincere glimmer in your eye.

“No, it’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see that.”

You can’t tell if Eddie knows you’re teasing him or not. Or if he’s joking about the whole thing ‘cause it’s over now. Your boy’s too hard to read for his own good. You decide to keep pitying him anyway. His love language is basically being babied.

“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?”

He nods, a small pout jutting out his rosy lips. “With the mini marshmallows, please?” he mumbles.

You bend at the waist to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Whatever you want, babe,” you promise in a gentle murmur.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: Thanksgiving brings back memories of happier times, and all you want is to recreate the past. But when those plans go awry, Eddie--and Harris, of course--are there to help you look forward to the future.

Warnings: mentions of Eddie's parents, brief familial conflict, Reader's grandma has dementia, most of this chapter is fluffy tbh

WC: 6.8k

Chapter 8/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Thanksgiving, 1975

The sound of the kitchen timer beeping draws nine-year-old Eddie Munson’s attention from the television set. The local news network had been replaying the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on a loop. It was now the third time that Eddie had watched Santa Claus make his way into Herald Square in a comically oversized sleigh, but he couldn’t get enough of it. The colorful balloons that hovered over the crowd, the marching bands playing in perfect unison, the feeling of excitement in the air—it was palpable all the way from his new home in Hawkins, Indiana. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Wayne announces, grabbing the worn mitt off of the counter and pulling two TV dinners from the oven. “‘S not much, but at least we got turkey and mashed potatoes,” he bashfully adds. 

Eddie nods, trying to walk without taking his eyes off of the screen. 

Wayne’s bushy brows pinch together as he watches his nephew. “You always get this into the parade?” he asks. 

“Never seen it before,” Eddie says softly. His parents had had a TV for a couple of years until they’d pawned it, but he doesn’t recall ever watching a parade. “Pretty cool.”

“We can keep it on while we eat, if ya want,” Wayne tells him, smiling when he sees the boy’s face light up. He places the plastic trays on the snack table and heads back to grab forks. “Ya got a favorite balloon? I’m partial to Snoopy, if y’ask me.”

Eddie nods, still transfixed on the TV. “Yeah, Snoopy’s good. I like him.” He takes the utensil from Wayne’s outstretched hand, absentmindedly dipping it in the congealed mashed potatoes. He pauses for a beat before bringing it to his lips. “Do I have to go back?”

“Hm?” Wayne mumbles, too focused on his own food to fully hear him. 

“Do I have to go back with them when they get out?” Eddie repeats, keeping his voice low and training his gaze on the floor. “‘Cause I like it better here. With you. ‘S nice and quiet.”

There’s a lurch in Wayne’s chest at Eddie’s request. “Technically, I only have ya till your folks are sprung,” he admits, scratching a nail against the table, “but I can talk to a lawyer or somethin’ about keeping you here longer. Only if you want,” he adds. 

“I wanna stay here,” Eddie confirms, spearing a pale turkey slice and popping it in his mouth without any attempt to cut it. “If it’s okay with you. I can sleep on the cot an’ you can take your bed back.”

Wayne shakes his head. “Room’s yours, Ed.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna promise you that the courts will agree to it, but I’m gonna try my damndest to keep you safe.” And it’s true. He’ll work double overtime at the plant if it’ll cover legal fees. When the social worker dropped Eddie off last week, Wayne had no idea how either of them would adjust. But aside from a few growing pains—like having to shave his nephew’s head when they’d discovered he’d had lice—things seemed to be alright. 

“I, um, I wrote something at school yesterday,” Eddie pipes up, traipsing to his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper. In his sloppy, boyish handwriting is written:

I am thankful for my Uncle Wayne because he takes care of me. He’s really nice and he works hard and he doesn’t mind that I listen to loud music. He also lets me feed my dinner scraps to the stray dogs in his trailer park. My Uncle Wayne is the best. I hope he’s thankful for me, too. 

Wayne feels his throat constrict, and he clears it before Eddie can catch on. “‘Course I’m thankful for ya, Ed,” he manages. He reaches out to put his hand on his nephew’s back, flinching when the boy jerks away nervously. Eddie’s reflex to defend himself rather than embrace touch stirs up a reserved anger Wayne didn’t know he had, and he wills himself to simmer down before his nephew can sense it, lest he think he’s angry at him.  

He slowly brings his hand to the couch cushion, careful not to make too much noise. We’ll get there, he thinks as the parade starts up for a fourth time. We’ll get there. 

Thanksgiving, 1978

Ten years old is a strange age. 

Too old to play with the little kids, but too young to hang around the teenagers or adults. You’re just kind of…there, like a piece of furniture that everyone absently walks around. This hiss of beer cans opening is barely audible over the men shouting at the football game on TV. You don’t know who’s playing, and you don’t really care, but it’s the only place you feel like you’ll be out of the way. Taking a seat on the floor, you remain there generally unnoticed until one of your uncles calls out your name.

“Couldja get me a refill?” Uncle Tim slurs, shaking his empty can of Bud Light to emphasize his request. Before you can respond, he throws a, “thanks, kid” and goes back to yelling at the football players.

It’s not like they can hear you through the screen, you snidely think, but you keep your comment to yourself as you pad into the kitchen. A collection of spices tickles your nose, the mixture of cloves and garlic and thyme and rosemary warming the room. You rummage through the refrigerator until you feel someone bump up against you.

“What are you doing in there?” Your aunt asks, disapproval carving her already sharp features. Her gaze drops to the can in your hand. “Seriously? Trying to sneak beer right in front of us?” she scoffs. 

Grandma quickly becomes aware of the commotion, and she wipes her hand on her sunny yellow apron as she assesses the situation. “Everything okay?” Her soft eyes are concerned, not accusing, and you feel your anxiety slowly dissipating.

“I caught her trying to steal some beer,” your aunt reports proudly, as though she’s caught some serial offender, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Not even a teenager yet and already getting into this kind of trouble.” She shakes her head with a tsk. 

“No, I wasn’t,” you insist, setting your jaw in defiance. “Uncle Tim asked me to get some more for him. That’s all.”

“Tim!” Grandma calls out, tone thick with irritation. “Get over here!”

 Uncle Tim trudges out to the kitchen, head already hung low in anticipation of the tongue-lashing he’s about to receive. He may be a grown man, but his mother can easily put him in his place.

Grandma folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you having your niece fetch your drinks like a barmaid? Your legs broken or something?”

“No,” he mumbles, taking the beer from your hand and haphazardly tossing a “sorry” in your direction before returning to the game.

“C’mere,” Grandma beckons you, crooking her finger to join her at the counter. She’s got a bowl of Granny Smith apples, half of them peeled, their green skins piling on the cutting board in front of her. She hands you the peeler, picking up a sharp knife and cutting a peeled apple lengthwise and cubing each slice. “Help me out. It goes a lot faster when there’s two of us. And it’ll keep you out of trouble,” she adds with a wink.

You grab an unpeeled apple from the pile and drag the tool down its curve, repeating the motion until the inner fruit is exposed before starting on the next one. You and Grandma work in tandem; you peel and she chops in a comfortable silence. As you’re finishing up the last of the bunch, she leans over and whispers in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best helper I’ve ever had.” She starts placing the cubed pieces into a pot, shaking the cinnamon container over it until she takes a satisfied step back, no measuring spoon required. “Mix it together for me?” 

You nod eagerly and pluck the wooden spoon from the canister behind the sink, dunking it into the pot and stirring until the apples are fully coated in cinnamon. “That good?” you ask, giving another stir for good measure.

“Perfect.” Grandma smiles, covering the mixture with water and setting it on an empty burner, twisting the knob until the coil turns red. “Once it softens up, you can mash it. Give these old arms a break,” she teases gently.

“You’re not old!” you protest, and she smacks a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, kiddo,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your scalp. “To the moon and back.”

You wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. “I love you, too. To the moon and back.”

Thanksgiving, 1996

“Daddy, look! It’s Santa!” Harris points at the TV excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch. He kicks his feet and squeals. “He’s gonna come to our house, right? An’ bring me presents?”

Eddie chuckles as he spreads mayonnaise on white bread, layering thin turkey slices on top. Three sandwiches for three Munsons. “I dunno, Har-Bear; have you been good this year?” 

Harris scrunches up his face in contemplation. “Um, I think so,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember.”

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie calls out as his uncle walks out of the bathroom. “Has Harris been good this year? I feel like he’s been a bit…mischievous.”

Wayne shakes his head. “My angel of a grandson? He’s never caused mischief a day in his little life!” He sits down next to Harris, letting out a small grunt as his bottom hits the sofa cushion. 

“Yeah! I never cause mischief a day in my little life!” Harris echoes confidently. He turns to his grandfather. “Grampa, what is Santa gonna bring you for Christmas?”

“A toupée,” Eddie says from the tiny kitchen, piling their plates with potato chips. Normally, he’d make sure there was a fruit or vegetable on there, but it’s a holiday. 

Wayne has to hold his tongue in front of the impressionable young boy, though he shoots Eddie an inconspicuous middle finger when he’s setting the plates on the coffee table. 

The three Munsons tuck into their sandwiches and crunch on the chips. This is how Thanksgiving has been since Eddie moved back with Harris: watching the parade followed by an early lunch so Wayne could pick up a shift at the plant. He always insisted on it, saying that the holiday pay helps offset the cost of Christmas presents. It was quiet, but nice, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else.

“Y’know,” Wayne says to Harris with a mouthful of sandwich, “the first time your Daddy watched the parade was with me. And now, we got to watch it with you.” He bumps his arm against Harris’s, making the boy giggle. 

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie muses, chomping on a potato chip thoughtfully as the memories flood back in. “Forgot about that. Is Snoopy still your favorite, Old Man?” 

Wayne considers this. “Hmm. Who’s our favorite balloon this year, Har?”

“Clifford!” Harris answers without missing a beat, kicking his little legs in excitement. Eddie should’ve known; the boy was damn near obsessed with dogs.

Once we can afford a house with a yard, I’m getting you that puppy, Har-Bear, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare make the promise aloud.

“Then that’s mine, too.” Wayne brushes the crumbs off of his lap, calloused hands scratching the worn denim of his jeans. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “I wonder what Ms. Sweetheart’s favorite balloon is.” He acts like he’s speaking to Harris, but Eddie knows it was aimed at him.

Harris claps his hands together gleefully. “I know! Let’s call her!” He turns to Eddie with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes the man has ever seen, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly in the most precious pout. “Please, Daddy? Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says with a laugh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Once you finish up lunch, we can call her.” Harris opens his mouth to protest that he wants to call right now, but Eddie cuts him off before he can start. “Ah ah; no whining, or we won’t call.”

Harris harrumphs but ultimately complies, taking another bite of his food. Wayne gives Eddie a small thumbs-up, and he preens slightly at the acknowledgment of his parenting win. They didn’t happen very often, and they rarely happened when someone was around to witness them. He takes a long gulp of water; as soon as he does, his son lifts his own cup to his lips and takes a sip. Another reminder that he’s watching, even subconsciously, wanting to be just like his dad.

For a split second, Eddie allows himself to believe that that might not be a bad thing.

“‘M done!” Harris chirps; sure enough, his plate is clean, save for the bread crusts. He squirms a bit in his seat, a gesture that Eddie has come to learn means only one thing.

“Go pee while I find her number,” Eddie tells him, purposely omitting the fact that he’s already committed those seven digits to memory. In case of an emergency, he thinks, and I don’t have the slip of paper on me.

Wayne can sense that his nephew isn’t being completely truthful; as soon as Harris closes the bathroom door behind him, he starts in with a shit-eating grin.

“Y’don’t need to find her number, do ya?”

Eddie flicks off an imaginary speck of dust on his shirts. “Knock it off, Wayne.” But he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, further affirming his uncle’s point.

“Look, Ed,” Wayne exhales, adopting a more serious tone. “You clearly like this girl. I mean, all Harris did was say her name and you smiled–don’t give me that look,” he chastises lightly when Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, but all that seems to be in the past now, right?”

“Guess so,” Eddie mumbles. “But not hating me doesn’t mean she’s into me. Maybe she’s only being nice to me because of Harris.”

The older Munson pauses, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks; his reflex when he’s deep in thought. “One date,” he challenges, holding up his forefinger to emphasize his point. “Ask her on one date, and see where it goes.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, the nerves already churning in his stomach. You’d just found this good rhythm together, and he was going to risk messing it up. Again. “I’ll ask her. But on one condition.”

“Whas’ that?”

“Don’t say anything to Harris.” He crosses his arms over his chest when Wayne chuckles. “‘M serious, Wayne. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. For Chrissakes, I gave her a tape and the kid had us getting married.”

“Fair enough,” Wayne agrees, clamping his mouth shut when he sees the little boy enter the room. “You wash your hands?”

“Yep!”

“With soap?” he presses, narrowing his eyes.

Harris heaves an impatient sigh. “Yes! Can we call now?”

Both Wayne and Harris keep their eyes glued to Eddie as he punches in the numbers. When it starts ringing, he holds out the receiver to his son. “Say hi and your name when she picks up,” he reminds him, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself before asking you on a date. He takes a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and gnawing on his lower lip so forcefully that he swears it might bleed.

You got this, Munson. The worst she can say is no.

But that’s not quite true, is it? The worst you can do is laugh in his face, leaving him a rejected mess. Scratch that–the worst you could do is accept the date, have him fall head over heels in love with you, then leave him in the dust to pick up the pieces while you move on with someone better. 

Maybe you won’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’ll have more time to–

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!”

It was a small thing. Miniscule, even. Just your meager attempt at reclaiming part of the past that had been lost to time and disease. A simple family recipe, apples boiled and mashed into a sauce that you’d hoped even vaguely resembled the way Grandma made it. A tiny cut on your fingertip serves as a battle wound from peeling, the sweet aroma of cinnamon still lingering in the kitchen.

You try to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just applesauce. But the thought falls flat as you stare into the trash can. You can still see all of your work literally tossed away through the tears that blur your vision.

You’d left the room for two minutes, two goddamn minutes, and when you came back, the plastic pink bowl that held the applesauce was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn you left it on the counter, but maybe you’d already put it away? A quick scan of the refrigerator gave you nothing but a chill. Where the hell did it go? Were you losing your mind?

A rogue apple peel had fallen to the floor, and you scooped it up, flustered at how you could have misplaced an entire bowl of applesauce. Sure, it wasn’t as much as when you and Grandma made it for the whole family, but it was still a decent amount. Your foot presses the pedal that lifts the bin’s lid, and that’s when you see it.

“Grandma?” you choke out, looking over to where she’s sitting on the couch. She doesn’t respond, and you raise your voice a bit to grab her attention. “Grandma, why did you throw out the applesauce?”

Her empty gaze briefly flits over to where you’re standing, not even registering the burgeoning frustration and sadness coursing through your veins. “Wasn’t me,” she says flatly, scratching at the side of her nose with a jagged nail. Before dementia, her nails were always painted bright hues of red or blue; now, it was difficult enough to get her to leave the house for essential doctor’s appointments. You weren’t going to put up a fight trying to get her to the salon.

You know you should just close the lid and walk away instead of torturing yourself by continuing to look, but your feet are glued to the linoleum floor. A cold drop of something lands on your toes, and that’s when you realize that you’re crying. Crying over goddamn applesauce.

All you wanted was some semblance of normalcy, something reminiscent of life before Grandma got sick and your family still felt whole. But what you got was a thickening realization that you can’t relive the past, no matter how hard you try.

The ringing phone startles you from your wallowing. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you know that Grandma will just grumble about how she hates the sound of it, so you pick up the receiver and answer with a shaky, “H-Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!” A little voice chirps through the other end. You can hear Eddie mumbling something, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your favorite balloon?” There’s more hushed speaking from Eddie, and Harris huffs out, “Daddy, stop! I know what to say!” 

“My favorite balloon from the parade?” you ask, biting back a giggle. 

“Mhm! I like Clifford,” he tells you.

You’d kept the parade on in the background, catching glimpses of it every now and again. Shit, what balloons did you see? “Clifford’s a good one,” you agree, “but I think the Rocky and Bullwinkle one was my favorite.”

Harris laughs so loudly that you have to pull the phone from your ear. “The squirrel and the moose?” he guffaws. “Ms. Sweetheart, that’s so silly!” You’re about to ask him how his holiday is going when he says, “Hold on, my daddy wants to talk to you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of talking to Eddie, and you wipe the tears from your wet cheeks as though he’ll be able to see them through the phone.

“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” he says. Something resembling trepidation tinges his tone, though you’re not sure why. Could he still be anxious to approach you after he confided in you at the parent-teacher conference? After he’d watched you panic when Grandma locked herself in her room?

You swallow, trying to choke down the sadness rising within you. “Yeah, y-you, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice breaks on the last word, and you hope Eddie doesn’t catch it.

But of course he does.

“You okay?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re crying.”

“‘M fine. Just, um, chopping onions,” you lie, hoping you’ve done a convincing job.

“For the…applesauce you’re making?” Eddie sees right through you; you’d forgotten that you’d told him and Harris about your plan during your weekly post-tutoring dinner last night. “Not gonna lie, that sounds even nastier than olives on pizza.”

You manage a laugh, but it’s disfigured by the catch in your throat. “The applesauce was a bust, unfortunately,” you admit. “I left the kitchen for a second and Grandma chucked it in the trash.”

“All of it?” he asks incredulously, letting out a deep exhale when you confirm that she did, in fact, throw out the entire bowl. “Jesus H. I’m so sorry. Is that what’s got you upset?”

“Mhm. I know it’s stupid, ‘s just applesauce, but–”

“‘S not stupid,” Eddie interrupts softly, and you twist the phone cord around your pointer finger with the sudden drop of his tone. “I know you were really looking forward to it.” He pauses, and you wonder for a moment if the line’s gone dead before he says, “We’re coming over. Me and Harris. Be there in twenty; fifteen, if I don’t have to argue with him about wearing a jacket.”

Before you can protest, he really does hang up. You look down at the baggy sweats and college t-shirt you’re wearing; you weren’t expecting any guests today, let alone the Munson boys. You should probably throw on some actual pants, and a bit of mascara couldn’t hurt, either.

You find a pair of jeans that aren’t buried under a mountain of laundry and tug them over your thighs before quickly swiping some makeup on your face. It’s enough to mask your exhaustion while still looking natural.

It dawns on you that you’re not quite sure why you suddenly care so much about your appearance. Harris couldn’t care less, and Eddie…well, even if Eddie did care, why would that matter to you? He’s your tutee’s parent; a new friend at most. On more than one occasion, you’ve answered the door to Jess with a wicked case of bedhead. Why does Eddie Munson of all people make you feel the need to look halfway decent?

When the buzzer sounds, you nearly jump out of your own skin. “It’s us,” Eddie says into the speaker; the smoothness of his voice has your stomach in knots. “And we come bearing gifts. Well, one gift, I guess.”

“Fuck off,” Grandma mumbles from the couch, cranking up the TV volume to an ungodly loud level. One of the Law & Order detectives says–no, screams–something about a murder, and you quickly reach for the remote and click the power button.

“We have company,” you tell her, and she just grunts in response. Hopefully her mood will change in the minute it will take Eddie and Harris to get to your apartment. You can hear them down the hallway, so you open the door just as they’re about to knock.

Eddie takes a step back in surprise. “You psychic or somethin’?” he laughs, looking down at his son and giving him a small nudge. “Go ahead, you can give it to her.”

Your gaze drops to the curly-haired boy standing by his father’s side. He’s holding a brightly colored package of off-brand Oreos, which he brings closer to his chest, pressing it tightly against his zippered sweatshirt. “It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” he reminds Eddie, wide-eyed with genuine concern.

“Only until we got here,” Eddie says gently, soft brown eyes encouraging Harris to hand you the cookies. He brings his attention back to you. “I know it’s not the same as making applesauce with your grandma, but I’ve never been sad eating an Oreo. An oatmeal raisin cookie, maybe. But not an Oreo.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “You may be onto something here, Munson.” You take the package from Harris and guide the two of them to the kitchen, calling out to Grandma as you pass by. “Grandma, Eddie and Harris are here, and they brought cookies, if you wanna join us.” Her non-response is familiar at this point; the sting is much easier to brush off than it was a few short months ago. But you still feel it.

Even though Grandma isn’t at the table, Harris still climbs onto his dad’s lap. “Daddy, can I have one?” he asks, resting his dimpled chin on his palms as he glances upwards.

“Gotta ask Ms. Sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, tickling Harris’s ribs and loudly whispering, “and ask her if your poor, hungry dad can have one, too. She can’t say no to you.”

You open the package and shake your head at his antics, sliding out the flimsy tray and offering it to them. “Of course you can have one, Harris,” you say, tone saccharine sweet. His chubby fingers darting out and snatching up a cookie before you even finish your sentence. “But I don’t know about your dad. Do you think he should get one?”

“C’mon, Har,” Eddie urges him, “us men gotta stick together. All for one and one for all, right?” He flexes his bicep; it’s an attempt to emphasize the manliness that supposedly bonds him and Harris, but the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. You sputter and cough embarrassingly, excusing yourself to pour a glass of water. 

“Anyone else want?” you manage once you can speak again, holding up the ceramic pitcher. 

Eddie nods, lifting Harris from his lap and placing him on the nearest empty chair. “Here, let me help you.” He stands up and calls out over his shoulder, “Grandma, how about some water?”

You’re about to tell him not to worry about it, but to your surprise, she nods. “Ya.”

“So, four waters,” Eddie reports, taking the pitcher and refilling your glass. 

You grab another just like it from the cabinet before taking two blue disposable ones, plopping a bendy straw in each. “Grandma, um, she needs stuff that isn’t breakable,” you explain lamely. “And the other plastic one is for Harris.”

Eddie grins. “Thought it was for me. Y’know, always making a mess.”

“Ah, but only of your life,” you tease. “You’re pretty good with basic human functions.” Your face burns at what you’ve potentially implied, but Eddie isn’t fazed. 

“Y’know what? I’m gonna take my cookies back!” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in mock-indignance. A piece of curly hair sticks to his lower lip with his sudden movement, and you brush it away with your thumb before you can stop yourself. 

The crinkling of the fake-Oreo package draws both of your gazes, with Eddie poised to tell Harris that he’s only allowed one more. But to your surprise—and perhaps Eddie’s, too—Harris isn’t the one rifling through the tray. Grandma’s taken a seat next to the boy, handing him a cookie before taking her own. She just nibbles on it in silence, but it’s the most present she’s been in days. 

“Y’like Oreos, Grandma?” Eddie asks, pouring water into the two plastic glasses and carrying one in each ringed hand. He places them on the table, and Grandma brings the straw to her lips as she nods again. He pauses for a moment, lips tucked into his mouth as he ponders something. “What kind of music does she listen to?” he asks you. 

“She has a record collection over in the living room,” you tell him, pointing to the low bookshelf near the door, “but we haven’t played any in awhile. She’s kinda…weird with noises.”

He considers this, walking over to the records and thumbing through them until he finds one that he recognizes. “Could I put this one on?” He holds up the battered copy of Frank Sinatra’s It Might As Well Be Swing. “I’ll take it off if she gets upset. I just wanna try something.” He carefully slides the record from its sleeve, lifting the player’s needle and placing it on the space for the first track. 

There’s a soft static as the record starts to spin, and Ol’ Blue Eyes croons: 

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars

Eddie joins in with the next part. His voice still carries its signature rasp, but it’s noticeably smoother, warmer than the night he’d dedicated the Def Leppard song to you. 

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

His eyes remain trained on the record player, but you swear you can feel the lyrics drifting towards you. The melody wraps around you like a hug, and you momentarily lose yourself in a musical embrace. 

Another voice, low and timid, chimes in. You have to stifle a gasp when you realize that it’s Grandma, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles–the most joy she’s shown in a long while–as she half-sings the words. 

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and before you can exhale the third syllable, the world shifts back to normal. Grandma goes back to mindlessly munching on her cookie as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. You turn to Eddie. “What was that?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “I read somewhere that music can, like, bring back some memories. Not permanently or anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

You can’t stop yourself from flinging your arms around Eddie’s neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. He pauses before he returns the gesture, pulling you tightly into him. One hand is on the small of your back; the other gently rests on the back of your head, allowing you to rest your forehead on his chest. Your tears flow freely, leaving tiny wet spots on his shirt. He doesn’t let go until you start to pull back. 

“Thank you,” you whisper; when he pinches his brows in confusion, you elaborate. “You gave me back a little piece of who she was before…” you trail off, swiping at your cheeks messily. “Just…thank you.”

Eddie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes are practically glued to your lips; this time, when his fingers brush against your palm, he hooks his pinky with yours. “‘Course,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure how long the two of you remain linked like this, joined hands swaying ever-so-slightly as Fly Me to the Moon fades out to I Wish You Love. It’s somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, because time seemingly slows to a halt. 

You might stay with pinkies hooked forever if Harris doesn’t bolt from his chair, hugging your waist and looking up at you with concern. 

“Ms. Sweetheart?” he asks. His wide, misty eyes indicate that he’s absorbed some of the emotion in the room, though he may not even be aware of this. “Why are you sad?” His chubby fingers grab onto the fabric of your pants.

You choke out a tearful laugh as you crouch down to meet him at his level. “I’m not sad…well, I’m sad and happy at the same time,” you try to explain, shaking your head when you realize you’re only adding to his puzzlement. “Grown-up feelings are weird sometimes, Har. But your hugs definitely help.”

With that, he squeezes you tighter, and you glance at Eddie with a full heart. He takes a step forward, scooping up Harris. You worry that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve shown too much of your vulnerability to a four-year-old, but your fears are subdued when Eddie extends one arm and brings you back to both him and his son. Something brushes against your scalp, and you realize that he’s pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. 

Harris squirms, and when Eddie puts him down, he runs over to the TV set. “Can I watch something?” It’s clear that the moment has passed, and Eddie throws you an apologetic shrug as he waits for your response.

“Sure,” you say, trying to pepper cheerfulness into your voice. It’s easier now that the wave of loneliness has passed, taking with it some of the mourning you’d clung to earlier today. You click on the TV and flip through channels until a familiar cartoon appears on the screen. “I think we’re just in time to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” you exclaim, and Harris mirrors your enthusiasm by flinging himself onto the couch, making his dad cringe.

“Careful, little dude,” Eddie says, clicking off the record player and gently placing the vinyl back in its sleeve. “You just got that cast off a few days ago. Don’t need you to break another bone.” Certainly don’t need another hospital bill, he thinks bitterly. He takes the spot next to Harris, silently begging you to join them. 

You turn to the kitchen table and put a hand on Grandma’s shoulder. “You wanna watch Charlie Brown with us?” But she rejects your invitation with a simple shake of her head, mumbling something about being tired and padding into her room. 

You take the empty space to Harris’s left so that the boy is sandwiched between you and his father. He’s a small kid, but it seems like there’s an entire ocean separating you and Eddie. 

“Why’s Lucy so mean?” Harris asks no one in particular. “She’s always yelling. Like Ms. Marion.” You have to stifle a giggle at that observation, and when you allow yourself a glance, you see that Eddie’s doing the same. 

The first half of the movie is filled with Harris’s constant commentary; he speaks more than all of the cartoon characters combined. But he tires out eventually, though in typical four-year-old fashion, he denies his sleepiness even as he’s yawning. He fights it pretty well, you’ve got to give him credit where it’s due, but eventually, the exhaustion takes over and he lays his head on your arm. His curls tickle your elbow, and you gingerly reposition him so he’s tucked up against your side. 

“You can move him over, if you get uncomfortable or somethin’. Kid sleeps like a rock. Except, y’know, when I need him to sleep.” Eddie snickers as Harris lets out the softest, tiniest snore. 

You return the laughter and shake your head. “Nah, I’m good,” you reassure him, smiling at the ruddy cheek pressed against you. “Don’t tell my other students, but Harris is the cutest kid ever.”

Eddie shrugs, but you can tell that the compliment tickles him. “Well, it makes sense, since his dad is a total stud.” He waggles his eyebrows before turning his attention back to Charlie and Lucy. You’re not quite sure how to respond to that; if you play it off as a joke, you risk hurting his feelings. If you tell him the truth–

“D’you like coffee?”

His sudden, seemingly arbitrary question snaps you from your indecision. “I teach four-year-olds,” you reply lightheartedly, hoping he can’t sense your mind continuing to linger on his stud comment. “I practically have coffee running through my veins. What about you?”

“I have a four-year-old, so, same.” He clears his throat, seemingly double-checking that his son is still sound asleep. His leg is bouncing up and down, and he nearly has to press on his knee to get it to stop. “Um, Harris is going to a birthday party next Saturday morning if you wanted to get some with me? Get some coffee, I mean.” He silently chastises himself, wondering if he’d ever been suave around women or if it had just been the unearned confidence of a young man in his early twenties convincing him that he had. 

“Like...like a date?” Fuck, do you sound too eager? “Because if you feel like you owe me a date after…after our night at the bar, you don’t have to. I forgave you after you gave me those M&Ms, remember?”

“Yeah…wait, no. Hold on.” Eddie holds up his pointer finger as he collects his thoughts. He could deny that it’s a date altogether and throw out some bullshit lie about it just being something between friends. But he promised Wayne, promised himself that he’d give this a shot.  “Yes, I’m asking you on a date. No, it’s not because I feel like I owe you one–although I definitely do,” he adds with a goofy grin that sends flutters to your stomach. “It’s because, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and how happy you make me–and Harris, too–and how I get kinda nervous around you, which makes no sense because you’re, like, the nicest fuckin’ person ever. Oh my God, why can’t I stop talking?”

“Eddie.” The way you say his name is like a song he could replay forever. “I’d really like to get coffee with you. I just need to see if someone can watch Grandma…maybe Jess,” you surmise, biting back the fact that you’ll have to withhold your date’s name, lest she subject you to a lecture about sleeping with the enemy.

Eddie nods, swiping the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and smiling. “I can pick you up at noon? If Jess can watch Grandma, of course.”

“Noon works.” You want to kiss him right then and there; if Harris wasn’t nestled in the middle of you both, you might not hold back. “I can let you know on Wednesday when we have dinner together.”

Eddie’s not sure he can wait that long for an answer. What if you’re just buying time to get out of it? What if you’re only being nice to him because you’re afraid that he’ll get angry again and reignite the bitter feud you’d been locked in just a month ago? He swallows the insecurities, gaze flickering to your eyes.

And maybe it’s because you can sense his unease and self-doubt, or maybe it’s because you genuinely want to–Eddie doesn’t know for sure–but he feels you lace your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on his thigh. He shifts his grasp to weave them tighter together, learning back into the couch and allowing his body to relax. His shoulders let go of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding on to, and a contented sigh slips from his lips.

It’s you, him, and Harris. Sitting on the sofa and watching a holiday movie. An unconventional little family, but a family all the same. Eddie swears that he could stay like this forever, a thought that almost has him bursting out in laughter. The same man who had concocted an elaborate method to keep women around without actually committing to them was now reveling in domestic bliss. 

When the movie ends and Harris begins to rouse, Eddie begrudgingly stands with an exaggerated groan. “These old bones, y’know,” he laments with a mischievous click of his tongue. “Everything starts fallin’ apart when you turn thirty.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, lifting Harris onto his hip and rubbing his back to help him fall back to sleep. “I know.” He grabs his keys from the shelf near the door as you walk them out. And before he can wimp out, he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, stubble scratching against your skin. His hands are trembling when he pulls away.

“You’re the best,” he repeats the same statement he’d made on parent-teacher conference night. It’s even more true now than it was then. “We’ll see you on Wednesday for pizza?” And an answer, hopefully a ‘yes.’ “Wednesday,” you echo, still processing the fact that, for the second time today, Eddie Munson’s lips have been on you.

--

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

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[restinslices]

Bi-Han X Lucky Reader

Let’s all just ignore the Khaos Reigns trailer and have a good time :D. I rewatched Deadpool 2 yesterday (I have not seen the 3rd one yet, so no spoilers) and fell in love with Domino. The reader has Dominos powers, which is luck. It basically means everything always works out for her. Also lowers the luck of everyone else around her. It’ll make more sense as we continue. (I think fsfghee and I should just get married at this point cause how am I always picking their gifs?)

He is both grateful and irritated by your power

Honestly I can see him not even seeing “luck” as a power when you first tell him

But on a mission you say you should both make a detour, and the second he decides to humor you, the hall you would’ve been in blows up

He takes it seriously after that

He’s grateful for it because luck is always on your side. Failing a mission is kinda slim to none now

It irritates him because your power means that you’re always right

Ya’ll know that man hates being proven wrong

He’s stubborn, so he stupidly argues with you about stuff still

A quick example is one day he somehow loses his mask

He’s looking everywhere and he cannot find that shit

“Maybe check your bathroom” you say while picking at your nails absentmindedly

”Why would it be there?” He huffs out. “I never put it there”

You just shrug. It’s not your mask so you really don’t care if he finds it or not

He goes out of his way NOT to check the bathroom because when has he ever put his mask there? You had to be wrong this one time, and he was gonna prove it

After hours, he finally checks the bathroom

And would you look at that. It’s on the counter.

”Still got it” he hears you taunt from behind him

Yeah yeah. Whatever.

You’d think he’d just go with whatever you say, but nooooo. He wants to prove he’s the captain of the ship

Well if he’s the captain of the ship, you’re the ocean

“Where are the hostages being held?” “I don’t know” “You don’ know?” “I’m not a psychic! Things just kinda go right for me!”

You’re giving him a headache

He’d prefer if you could just see the future

He refuses to ask for help when looking for something. You’ll try to take a guess and he’s like “Don’t! Stop!”

Fine. Be stubborn.

And sparring with you? Oh dear

He lands hits but the fight will always end in your favor

“Bi-Han we can stop-“ “No. We go again”

Stop humiliating yourself

I have this scene in my head where it’s when Bi-Han sides with Shang Tsung and you’re begging him not to

“Your instincts are wrong this time” he says

You shake your head. “This has nothing to do with instincts or luck Bi-Han! Don’t do this because I don’t want you to! I want you by my side!”

“It is you that needs to stand by my side”

You keep your feet planted firmly by Kuai Liang. “Well I don’t sense any luck with you”

This supposed to be funny and fluffy. My bad-

If there’s too many enemies and he needs to have his attention somewhere else, he unleashes you like an attack dog

“Take care of them while I (something else that requires his attention. I don’t know)” “Sir yes sir”

Do not say any luck puns. Omg.

You knock someone down and look at Bi-Han with a smirk

“Don’t-” “Guess he wasn’t feeling lucky!”

He’s gonna kill you one day

But until then, he tolerates you

”You know you love me”

He just grumbles in response

He knows he loves you too

Sorry, had to add something corny at the end

[laangdonn]

not anymore pt2

summary: y/n tries growing in her grief at hilltop.

pairing: carl grimes x female reader

a/n: ya’llllllll thank you so much for loving the first part!!! i’d actually written pt1 a year ago and never rlly planned to ever make a pt2 but ask and you shall receive lolol, hope you like!!

*read part 1 here*

*************************

“todays the day rick n carl should be gettin here,” maggie said, sending a spoon with tomato soup into her mouth, “you ready to see him?”

i released a shaky breath, playing with my own bowl of food as my starved appetite vanished. i stared at the red, swirling liquid. “i don’t know.”

“a month wasn’t enough time apart?” she asked, eyeing me cautiously.

i hadn’t wanted to repeat myself, but i had no other answer. “i- i don’t know.”

it hadnt seemed like a month apart. i would’ve sworn it had been yesterday i walked out of alexandria alone, two duffel bags in my hand and a gun, ready to fend off anything or anyone that crossed my path.

but it had been a month, the longest we’d ever been apart. and i missed him more than anything.

it still didn’t shake my hesitancy, my worry that the moment we spend time alone we’ll go back to disagreements and fighting and perhaps, i’d never go back to alexandria again. and that’ll be the end of us. till one of dies and the other is forced to reconcile the fact that we’d never made up.

it scared me to see him. to see death again.

“well,” maggie swallowed again, her short hair bristling in the chilly air from the open window, “i think when you see him, that’s when you’ll really know.”

i nodded slowly, my eyes still trained on my soup.

she stood up out of the chair, “i need to find greg, talk to him ‘bout a few things.” she eyed me again, noticing my static, unmoving position. “you’ll be alright while i’m gone?”

i looked up at her then, not wanting her to worry, “i’ll be fine, mags.”

she gave me a small, reassuring smile and a kiss on the crown of my head before she went off, and i was left in my thoughts.

luckily, maggie’s trailer provided a lot of privacy, and knowing the tenants at hilltop, i wouldn’t be disturbed.

i stared off to a chip in the paint, thinking.

——

“i can come with you.”

“carl-“

“why can’t i just take you to hilltop and leave?”

“because, carl, don’t-“

“it’s dangerous, y/n, and reckless-“

“carl-“

“and stupid-“

“would you stop interrupting me!”

he went quiet then, his burly arms crossed over his flannel chest, eye staring daggers into my figure.

we stood by the door to our house, two duffel bags leaning against the wall i so desperately wanted to pick up and run out.

i knew despite him saying he wouldn’t stop me going, it wouldn’t eliminate the imminent last ditch effort fight from occurring.

“you told me you’d let me go.” i said slowly, as if reprimanding a child, “don’t go back on your word.”

he rolled his eyes, “god forbid i don’t want you out there by yourself! have my dad take you for fucks sake just don’t-“ he pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling stressfully, “don’t go by yourself.”

“i can take care of myself, carl.” i spat, feeling anger surge through me at his distrust in me. “i’ve survived this long.”

“you never know what can happen out there.” he threw his hands up, “or here! yesterday, that dick’s gun was to your head in this fucking room!”

i felt his rage, i voiced his yells. it made my head spiral that i were still trapped in alexandria, suffocating in this broken reflection of my relationship that could barely withstand some independence.

but, bringing myself to reality, i also knew his fear, knew the dread at the unknown. knew the loss he was experiencing even while i was still standing in front of him, alive and breathing.

i shuddered out a breath, walking over to him to put my hands sturdily on his shoulders.

i looked up at him, watching his anger dissipate when we locked eyes.

“i know you’re scared for me,” i said softly, talking quickly before he’d have a chance, “but i need you to trust me.”

“y/n-“

“no,” i put my finger to his soft lips, “let me finish.”

i brought my hand down, his eye watching my finger fall from his flesh.

“i’ll send a letter the second i get to hilltop, so you know i’m safe,” i swallowed, “i’ll have my gun loaded and extra ammo, anything i could scavenge up from the armory.”

his eyebrow relaxed, listening to me talk.

“this is what we’re made for now,” i shook him a bit and sent him a weary smile to ease his tension, “we’re made to do these things on our own.”

he exhaled shakily, nodding to fool himself into thinking he’d allow this, that he’d watch me walk away from him into trees of undead and alive.

i leaned up to his face, our noses brushing every so slightly. my heart boomed in my chest, beating so hard i swore he could hear it himself. maybe it was both of our hearts, desperate to intertwine again.

“do you trust me?” i whispered softly, so our lips grazed.

i heard him swallow, and the breath from his nose fan my face.

“yeah,”

i pulled back at that, knowing if we kissed, for the first time since…, i knew i’d lose the battle to my heart and stay.

i grabbed the two duffel bags and locked my palm around the doorknob.

looking over my shoulder, i sent a reassuring smile, “i’ll see you when we’re okay.”

he didn’t respond, and while it sent a jolt to my gut of disappointment and guilt, i turned back and opened the door.

“y/n,” i heard him say, just as i left.

i barely looked over my shoulder.

“i love you.”

i bit my lip, finally, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.

“i love you, too.”

and the door shut.

——

crossing the lines to hilltop and realizing who i’d be seeing almost sent me running the other direction.

fear of maggie’s state of being gave me a headache as i drew closer to the entrance, and once i was close enough in view, could see her faint outline on a lookout post illuminated by the bright sun behind her.

i knew she saw me when i heard a voice scream my name.

she disappeared from the post and soon the large, wooden doors opened. i ran the rest of the way, dropping my bags and falling tiredly into her expectant arms.

as much as i told myself i’d stay strong for her, the smell of her hair and the memories of that night came sweeping back and i sobbed, wet and noisily, into her chest that shook with her own cries.

i didn’t realize we’d fallen to the floor till i felt my exposed knees sting from skimming the rough dirt.

“what-“ she sniffled, a sob breaking through her, “what are you doing here?”

i took a shaky breath in, trying to compose myself, “i came to see you.”

she frowned, burying her face back into my shoulder.

we cried a few more moments, let ourselves drown in glenn’s absence, in front of all the onlookers who just watched silently.

i pulled back, dread creeping into my stomach when i looked at maggie’s

“the-“ i swallowed, “the baby-“

“fine,” she answered quickly, stroking tears off my cheeks and sending me a faint smile, “just fine.”

i breathed a sigh of relief, nodding at the scarce good news before standing and helping her up, too.

she looked healthier than the last time i saw her, fatter in her face and her arms. her stomach barely bulged as a reminder a part of glenn resided there.

behind her i saw sasha standing, her arms folded. even from far away, i could tell she just looked even worse, instead of better.

i sent her my best sympathetic smile, receiving one back but knowing deep down, it was just another lie to comfort me.

i looked to maggie, gripping her forearms, “take me to him.”

seeing glenn’s grave, surprisingly, comforted me more than disturbed me. to know we had him, safe under dirt and bugs, but still, safe. better than laying out in the gravel, for prying, evil eyes to view him.

he was returned back to us in less than one piece, but his soul was whole with us.

i held maggie’s hand as we looked down, a few flowers resting over the raised patch of dirt.

i swallowed harshly, “what would he think now?”

“of what?” she asked softly, our eyes never wavering from the ground.

“of carl and i. of what’s been destroyed.”

i felt her squeeze my hand, “you and carl aren’t destroyed.”

i shook my head, feeling tears blur my vision and my nose sting.

she continued, “you’re right for the time apart, to grieve separately if that’s what you need.”

“is it enough?” i asked brokenly, finally looking at her.

she gestured our intertwined hands to glenn’s grave.

“ask him.”

and so i did.

i spoke to glenn’s grave everyday. sometimes scattered stories of our memories, from the prison, from on the road. sometimes i cried so hard i couldn’t breathe under the empty dusk, sometimes i laughed so hard my stomach hurt. sometimes i sat in silence.

but mostly i talked about carl.

——

if i stared hard enough at that paint chip, i could’ve sworn the wall tore a bit more right before my eyes.

i knew who i had to see, to remind me this absence was for something, that i’d grown in my grief.

my feet carried me to his grave, hidden away behind maggie’s trailer. i sat down comfortably in front of it, hugging my knees to my chest.

“are we okay?” i whispered to the air. “will i see you in him?”

“was all of this for nothing? will it always be this way, glenn?” i wiped my hand over my nose.

i let out a shaky breath at the thought, “can we overcome this?”

“yes.”

my head whipped around, and i saw carl, standing with his arms at his sides, tears filling up his ocean eye.

it gave me whiplash how fast i stood up and launched myself into his unexpecting arms. they rested limp for a moment, but quickly moved to hug my torso tightly, lifting my feet slightly off the grass as i wedged my head between his neck.

we pulled back slightly to stare at each other, and i searched his face for the blood, for the black line, for the axe.

i smiled softly when i realized all i saw were glenn’s memories.

happy memories, of the hot days at the prison when we sweat so hard playing tag, of playing a dusty board game in alexandria the first night when we were too hesitant to sleep, of watching his love with maggie and seeing it reflected in carl and i.

“why’re you smiling?” he whispered, his own face pulling to reveal a grin. he knew.

i leaned in closer, tipping his sheriffs hat up so our noses could brush.

“because i don’t see it, not anymore.” i finally let our lips touch, a kiss that sent flames bursting in my stomach and my fingers to shake with anticipation.

he leaned into the kiss, and i felt the breath on my face at his sigh of relief.

i knew he knew what i meant when i saw the tiny twinkle in his eyes reappear looking at me, knowing he felt the same.

i pulled back ever too quickly, evident in how he leaned in again.

but before i gave him the chance to kiss me again, i let my smile burst through.

we all had a long way to go, people to kill and more people to lose, but in this moment, right in this moment:

“i see you now.” i said.

and that was enough.