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eff4freddie · 3 months

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2 Sweet 4 Me | Part Three

Dieter Bravo x AFAB Reader Words: 2.5k Minors DNI

Part One Part Two Epilogue

Dieter knows he fucked up, knows he lost you, knows it hurt and that he deserved it. But if its the way things had to be, the way they were always going to be, predestined as he is, apparently born under a vengeful and unforgiving star, then why does it still fucking sting so much?

This is a love story.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, lots of swearing, angst

The thing about wrap parties is that if you never let yourself get attached to any of the people you work with, it doesn’t hurt when its time for everyone to go. Dieter hated wrap parties, mind already on his next project, if not his next score. He didn’t care to really know anyone, their hopes and dreams or whatever. The way people clambered over each other to feign sadness that their two and a half months together were over, the way they promised to stay in touch just to immediately lose everyone’s numbers, the way people looked through him, plotting how to get the dregs out of him, how to carve up whatever was left. He used to be able to stand it, when he knew he had you to go home to.

He hadn’t dared call you since his late-night Ambien confessions. Part of him wanted to see if you’d call him, if you’d miss him now that you’d heard his voice again, and a larger, wiser part of him knew you wouldn’t, that you shouldn’t, that maybe you and him could debate whether he was good enough for you, but there was no argument that he wasn’t good for you. He’d seen the way your eyes had hollowed out the longer you stayed with him.

Fuck, it still hurt though. He felt the fist clenched tight in his chest, always feeling breathless and slightly panicked at the idea of being alone. You. Without you.

Rudy convinced him to go to the wrap party anyway, that it was important to be seen, then basically held him hostage, refusing to come and pick him up for at least an hour. Dieter had downed one vodka tonic and watched the minutes tick by before he could slip away again. His next job started in three weeks, was shooting in LA, and the studio had let him keep Rudy. Dieter liked Rudy, his dad-vibes weirdly soothing at the end of a long night. Rudy judged Dieter, but only ever fairly.

‘You got a few weeks off from me, my friend,’ he said, from the front passenger seat, because he felt like either an invalid or 100 years old sitting alone in the back. Rudy had let him sit there so long as he promised not to fuck with the radio. Dieter had sat on his hands.

‘You going to keep yourself occupied, Sir?’ Rudy asked, and Dieter shrugged.

‘Might do.’

‘I mean, you gonna keep that nose outta trouble?’ Rudy asked again, and there was that paternal care Dieter realised he’d been missing for most of his childhood, soaked it up now in case Rudy ran dry.

‘Might do,’ Dieter replied, grinning.

He’d just learnt to carry on without you, he realised. Hobbled, but moving. He checked his phone less, sometimes forgot to even look at it for hours on end. He hardly ever cracked open your left-over shampoo just to pretend you were still in the room. He didn’t catch himself reaching for you over the cold mattress at 3 AM anywhere near as often.

He nearly dropped his keys. Rudy had dropped him off at his gate so that he didn’t have to back up the driveway, and Dieter had been staring at the night sky, his head fully thrown back as he walked up his garden path, so that he didn’t see you sitting on his stoop until he was nearly standing on you.

‘Baby?’ he said, and you lifted your face to him as he reached for you, pulled you up onto your feet and into his arms, your little coughing sobs reverberating up his neck and bouncing around his skull. ‘Oh, my sweet thing, what?’ he asked, and you cried harder into his skin, your fists raised to his chest, almost like you were trying to hold him away while he pulled you in.

‘It’sjustbeensuchashitday,’ you said, and he reached down to pull your face from his so that he could examine you, turning your face left and right in the porchlight.

‘Tell me,’ he said, and you sniffled, avoiding his gaze, staring instead at his hairline. You wanted to reach up and run your fingers through it, tug on it as he settled his head between your thighs.

‘I…’ you started, and you stopped, because you didn’t know where to start, how to explain, that you had just wanted him, that nothing even really all that dramatic had happened, just fucking Kevin in your fucking office fucking up the finance reports again so now your project was $60k over budget because he can’t add up tax despite being a fucking accountant, and the CEO’s EA had been a bitch to you about trying to get a report signed off after the deadline, and you’d had to settle a couple of bullshit microaggressions between your colleagues because they were incapable of communicating like fucking adults, and your boss had given you a weird vibe all day like she was waiting for you to fuck up just to point it out to you, and the fluorescent lights had given you a headache again but you weren’t able to get an appointment with the optometrist to get those blue light filtering glasses things you’d read about on Instagram for another two weeks, and God sometimes your body just felt fucking wrong and there wasn’t any reason for it, really, except that putting your body against his made it right again.

You paused for breath, exhaling slowly, looking up into his face. It took you a moment to realise you’d spoken it all, out loud. You felt the heat explode on your cheeks at the revelation.

‘Oh, baby,’ he said, and he held your face in his hands as he planted a warm kiss on your forehead.

‘Can’t turn my brain off,’ you said, miserable.

‘You want me to help you forget?’ he asked, heart racing, caught on your words like a rag on a barbwire fence; made it right again, made it right again, your body against his made it right again.

You stared up at him, your eyes red and bloodshot, skin wet with tears. He held you there, in his gaze and in his hands. You weren’t sure you could speak it into existence, if you should. You nodded your head instead.

And then you were in his arms again, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lifted you, carrying you over the threshold and down into the den, his sunken couch appearing beneath you both as he sat, placing you gently to straddle his lap, laving at the skin behind your ear with his tongue. You gasped, your skin on fire and your body shivering, your clothes too tight, his clothes in your way, as you scrabbled for the hem of his tee and pulled it over his head. There, the expanse of his warm, golden skin. The smattering of hair on his chest, his nipples straining in the cool air. You wanted to lie down on it, feel it under your cheek and your palms, taste every inch with your tongue. He was panting, sitting with you perched on his lap, leaning back and looking up at you, his eyes wide as he waited for you to tell him to stop.

You leant forward, biting into the flesh of his shoulder, the urge to mar the perfect landscape of his skin too great. He sucked a breath in through his teeth, his hands coming up to rest on your hips, pulling you down onto his cock, hard and straining under his light cotton pants.

‘Fuck, baby,’ he muttered, pushing you down harder onto his lap and dragging you across it, the heat of your cunt intoxicating. He could smell you again, your perfume and your shampoo and your arousal, your little gasps in his ear as your clit grazed his thighs. ‘You miss me this bad?’

You could only nod, the electric shocks between your thighs pushing the words from your head. You felt his hands travelling, coming around to your front, pulling your top off, lifting the cups of your bra to hold your tits in his warm palms. No one had touched you like this in so long, not since you’d attempted a one-night-stand to see if you could fuck Dieter out of your life for good, and failed at both that and achieving orgasm.

His lips on your collarbone, his cock pushing up against you pussy, your hands in his hair. You’d thought about it, remembered it, conjured it alone in your bed with your fingers in your cunt, and none of it had been anything compared to the real thing, to the smell of him, to his scraggy beard dragging across your skin as he kissed you, hissing in pleasure as you rutted against him. He moved his hands again, sliding them up your thighs as you sat perched above him, sliding them under your skirt and over the cloth of your underwear, groaning when he felt that you were already soaking the fabric.

‘Dee,’ you whimpered, and you moaned when he pushed it to the side, slipping a fingertip against your clit, rubbing tight little circles that he knew would set you on fire. He chuckled to himself, satisfied and impatient in equal measure, as you gasped, your cunt so hot under his touch. He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not, if he’d finally cracked and was just straight up hallucinating. He wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead, couldn’t account for the events as they were unfolding but just going with them, the pull of his cock guiding him towards you without any consideration as to the consequences.

He didn’t want to give you a chance to reconsider. He slipped a finger inside, all the way to the knuckle, pulling you to him in case you slipped from his grip as your back arched. It was like when you’d first got together, when you were crushing hard on each other, before things had got complicated and sad and sour. Before he’d been neglectful, before the lies had doubled and tripled, before the house of cards he built for the both of you to live in came crashing down around you. He felt it then, the nostalgia and the belief that maybe if you just kept fucking like this, kept pawing at each other, kept up the desire and the need, that you could get back on track, that he could keep you, the idea of it spurring him to switch places, pushing you sideways and onto the couch beneath him as he fumbled to release his heavy, aching cock from his pants.

You lifted your bum as you swept your underwear off your skin, opening yourself up to him as he devoured you, brown eyes trained on your cunt and the need for him leaking out and dribbling into the fabric of the couch. He swiped it with his thumb, lifting it to his lips for just the smallest of tastes to tide him over. You closed your eyes, the heat of it so much you felt the need to turn away, and he reached out and pulled your chin towards him again, locking you into his gaze.

‘Don’t turn away from me, baby,’ he said, leaning forward and positioning himself at your entrance. You watched him, entranced, as he pushed. ‘Never turn away, want to remember your eyes on me, want to remember all of it.’ You gasped, the sharpness in Dieter’s eyes, the focus, reminding you of how present he could be in a moment he determined worthy of his full attention. A little bloom of hurt emerged, one you had carried for months, knowing that he could seemingly turn off his care for you on a dime. You wondered, briefly, fretted, why it was that you had started failing to win it, why he had looked at you this way less and less as time wore on, why he had given up on you, why you had let him, why you had stayed for as long as you had, and then he pushed fully into you, groaned as you took him fully inside you, pitching your hips to grind your clit onto his hipbone, and you forgot it all for a second, obliterated with just the feel of him surrounding and inside you, just the taste of his sweat and the curl of his hair around his forehead, a little crown of thorns visible only in the dark as he crouched above you.

‘Dee,’ you said, and you heard the heaviness in it, the sob of it, as he pulled out and crowded himself back inside, brought himself home and you with him, seated himself inside your flesh. He leant over you on his elbows, cradling your head in his hands as he examined your eyes, the pleasure coursing through him as he saw the catch of your bottom lip between your teeth, felt the weight of it between you, crushing you both as he eased you open, felt the quake of the foundations as you entwined yourself around him, fresh tears on your cheeks as you grabbed for him, drew him in tighter, gasped and groaned and stretched your spine to try and contain it, all that he was drawing from you.

‘Baby,’ he said, a choke in his throat as he caught something rough behind his teeth, recognised it as the loss of you, the grief, no more heard than felt the crashing wave threatening to wash you both away. ‘I know,’ he whimpered, resting his head in the crook of your neck as he continued to seesaw into you, the joy and the thrill of it mixing with the sadness, with the terror, with the pain. ‘I know, baby, I know, I know,’ he mumbled, feeling that you were right there with him, that you were both standing over the cliff edge, knew that once you pulled him over, that once he took you with him, there would no clambering back to the ledge, that this was a goodbye as much as it was a coming home, that he wouldn't get to keep you because you were never his to possess, that you were with him now but that it would be the last time, that you would be gone the second your body hit the ground.

You felt it coming and you did nothing to stop it. Neither of you did.

He didn’t watch you dress, couldn’t bring himself to. He tucked himself back into his pants and stopped there, unable to bear putting his tee back on, covering himself when he had bared it all for you so readily and so recently, wanted to expose the nerve to the biting air for just a couple of seconds more. The world had slotted back again, into misalignment, where he realised now it had always belonged.

You didn’t have words, slipping first from his arms and then from his home in silence. You didn’t want to savour the moment, didn’t want to look back to examine and imprint the details in your mind. It was over now, whatever had been crowning was birthed. Nothing now except for the cleanup, for the clearing away.

At his gate the weather turned, an unseasonably cool breeze pushing your hair into your face and teasing the skin where your tears had tracked just minutes, moments, a lifetime before. You felt the chill of it there on your cheek, something new blooming underneath, something worth protecting. You reached up to warm it with your own hands.

Taglist (and massive thank you list!) @harriedandharassed @readingiskeepingmegoing @missladym1981 @misstokyo7love @ghostofzion @dieterbravobrainrotclub @the-feckless-wonder @swankyorange

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fic #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction

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bluberryfields · 1 year

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"What the hell did you just do?"

Part 2 of whatever. Continuing on with Tadfield Manor scenes, we get to the infamous "Wall" scene. I know it has been analyzed by many so far, but that's never stopped people in the world of literary analysis from spewing their own thoughts on well-reviewed texts. Also, I just want to.

Okay, so once they enter the manor building and see the management training branding, Crowley decides to "help out" and make all of the paintball guns into real machine guns. He snaps his fingers and points double finger guns at the passing "soldier".

Aziraphale is dumbfounded. "What the hell did you just do?

Such language, Angel! And no physical reaction to it like Crowley did when he said "Heaven's sake" in E6. Huh.

Crowley, meanwhile, is thoroughly pleased with himself. They want to battle? He's happy to oblige.

This plus the scare in the courtyard lets us see Crowley enjoying the few perks of being a demon. It's fucking adorable.

Aziraphale cannot comprehend how Crowley - who just miracled a stain away on his coat because it bothered him - could do something so thoroughly evil. And with a jaunty step!

If Aziraphale had pearls, he'd be clutching them so hard.

To which Crowley takes the opportunity to once again point out the flawed binary system of morality. We the audience will see this argument again in the Body Snatcher minisode, so it's fun to see how these two keep having the same old debates throughout time just with different causes with which to start from.

Pointing out hypocrisy while slinking down a hall? Crowley, you delicious tramp.

Aziraphale is still thoroughly horrified, but Crowley concedes with a sigh that everyone will, in fact, be fine. To me, his tone is a mix of disappointment at him not being quite as much of a bastard as he paints himself. He can't really hide his true self from Aziraphale.

I love how he can't stop moving his body. Snakes gonna slither.

Then here is it. The big moment. Smug little Aziraphale feels the need to mention how nice Crowley is underneath his demonic persona.

We now know that this is a reoccurring exchange, where Crowley must defend his title of Big Bad Demon in front of Azi's kind compliments. There's serious consequences to Crowley being labeled "nice" and Azi knows this by now. So why does he keep bringing it up? To provoke Crowley? To finally break him into admitting Azi is right? It's not like Azi can protect Crowley from Hell's wrath, but he pushes anyway.

I thought Crowley was the shit-stirrer in this relationship.

And now my favorite part. Sister Mary shows up and rightly implies these two are about to nail each other through the drywall. But when she recognizes Crowley, he stops her in her tracks.

The sass! It's off the fucking chart! Only an Angel could withstand such a display!

Aziraphale just straightens his clothes and lets the sass go unchallenged because he's still has a bit of self-preservation instincts left.

So I already talked about the "Luck of the devil" line from Aziraphale here, but it truly is a fun moment in the context of the whole scene. Crowley is worked up from the "nice" comment and Aziraphale's seeming refusal to stop analyzing him.

Horny Aziraphale is sassy and Crowley looks like he wants to bite through a door frame.

So, obviously, I've spent way too much time rewatching these scenes, but I do find it so interesting how we see so much of their relationship on display within just a few minutes. The different personality traits to draw them together while also pushing them apart.

The way Aziraphale knows how to work Crowley, who in turns knows how to indulge appropriately. (*cough* bullet catch *cough*)

The way Crowley happily taps into his demonic toolbox to spread a bit of chaos without actually causing serious harm. (*cough* Job *cough*)

The way Aziraphale reflexively tows the party line of Heaven even in the face of Crowley's demonstrations of humanity's instincts. (*cough* all of time *cough*)

And basically the way they bring out the best (and sometimes worst) of each other. Some might say they're a team. Or a group. A group of the two of them.

#good omens #crowley x aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #david tennant #michael sheen #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #good omens meta #the cutest chaos goblin #luck of the devil #sassy aziraphale #supernatural sass #microcosm of the universe #nice is a four letter word

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kennahjune · 1 year

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HI OMG HELLO

Just a little obsessed with the whole “projecting my interests onto Steve” train I have going so here ya go—

Steve who has an interest in mythology of just about any kind but specifically Greek Mythology because “holy shit everyone’s gay.”

Steve’s hosting the usual Saturday hangout at his house because it’s the one time everyone’s schedules line up. He’s sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, Robin on the floor to his right and Dustin to his left. Everyone else is spread among the couches and armchair, squeezing together in a way that seems more uncomfortable and over heated than the Devil’s asscrack.

Dustin was going on a ramble about something science-y. Robin and Mike would cut in occasionally with their own arguments and begin a whole new debate. Steve wasn’t paying much attention though.

His focus was on Eddie, who was staring intently at the living room window. Specifically the one that held his mothers flower vases.

When there was a break in the argument where everyone caught their breaths and gathered their thoughts, Eddie struck.

“What kind of flowers are those?” He pointed at the light yellow vase with a complicated floral pattern.

Steve paused and debated answering. He knew it was a trap. The flowers in that vase held a long story— one that everyone in the room would be subjected to hearing if Steve couldn’t help himself.

But Eddie was looking at his expectantly, Dustin tilting his head in curiosity, and even Mike eyeing him with a genuine wonderment.

So, Steve naturally conceded. “They’re hyacinths.”

Argyle whistled lowly. “Pretty name.”

Steve grinned. “Yeah well— they get their name from one of the prettiest people in history. In my opinion anyway.”

That seemed to pique everyone’s interest. Bad move on Steve’s part. At this rate, he’s gonna crack and go on a rant. Nobody wants to listen to his rants.

“Who do they get their name from?” Will asked, pulling his feet up to sit crisscross on the armchair. Mike was sat right next to him on the seat, squished into the arm but making no complaints. Mike nodded at Will’s question, as if agreeing that he also wanted to know.

Steve shifted and pulled one leg to his chest, resting his arm on it and fiddling with his hands. He avoided eye contact with just about anyone, before cracking a little more and looking at Robin.

With the nod she gave him, Steve felt himself break.

“They get their name from the Roman Prince Hyacinthus.”

Nancy hummed and took a sip from her Coke. She waved her hand as if urging him on. Steve continued.

“Um— well Hyacinthus was a Roman Prince beloved by all, including the God Apollo—“

“But isn’t Apollo a guy?” Mike interrupted. Looking over, Steve saw the pure curiosity and something that looked like hesitation on his face. Next to Mike, Will looked equally if-not-more hesitant but also very happy (?).

Steve allowed himself a small grin and nodded. “He is indeed. Hyacinthus is actually the first openly gay Greek character that we know of.” Steve’s smile brightened at the grin that made itself present on Will’s face and look of pure endearment on Mike’s.

“Anyways— Apollo fell in love with Hyacinthus but so did Zephyros, the God of the West Winds. Hyacinthus chose Apollo over Zephyros, however. And one day while Apollo and Hyacinthus were being all couple-y or whatever in the fields and playing discus, Zephyros took advantage of the winds and sent a discus spiraling straight at Hyacinthus and it ended up killing him on impact.”

He paused to take a breath, the story taking hold of him. Steve could feel the rush of excitement at finally talking about it— this story was his favorite and the next part always got him.

Among his break, he looked up and started at Eddie’s eyes on him. Of course, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Eddie’s shone with such a fondness that Steve felt himself having to do a minor breathing exercise to calm his heart down.

He cleared his throat with a cough and picked up where he left off, tilting his eyes down and keeping them on his fidgeting hands.

“Well— um, it was typical ‘if I can’t have you no one can’ fashion but the death shook Apollo to his very core and after trying everything in his power to get Hyacinthus back he finally gave in and grew the hyacinth flowers from the grass wherever Hyacinthus’ blood touched ‘to keep him in the sun where he belonged’.”

And with that, Steve looked around at everyone in the room. El’s eyes were filled with wonderment. Sitting next to her, Max looked shocked— though, at the story or Steve, he was unsure.

Jonathan had a small smile playing at his lips as well as Nancy. Argyle gave him a thumbs up and a “cool”.

Mike and Will were both seemingly buzzing with excitement and joy, Steve could see it in their eyes and on the matching grins they wore.

Dustin and Lucas— the latter sitting behind Steve on the couch— we’re both grinning at Steve and talking over each other, trying to tell him several different things at once.

But over the chaos surrounding him, Steve’s eyes were drawn to Eddie’s. Doe eyes filled with fondness and endearment. Steve’s grin turned to a bashful smile and he was quick to turn away.

He instead focused on Dustin and Lucas, pretending to not notice when Will followed Mike to the kitchen. From the knowing glint in Jonathan’s eyes, he also knew what was happening. They shared a snort and cheersed their Coke cans.

When the night was over and Steve was fresh out of mythology tales to tell the Party, everyone began leaving.

Mike, Will, and El left with Jonathan and Argyle. Nancy drove Robin, Dustin, Lucas and Erica as well as Max— who was spending the night at the Sinclair’s.

It was when Steve went to clean the living room that he noticed he never saw Eddie leave.

Instead, the metal head was standing by the window in the living room. The same window with the hyacinths. Steve furrowed his brow in confusion and walked over.

The moment Steve was within reaching distance, Eddie pulled him into his side. Steve let out an ‘oof’ sound, and caught himself on Eddie’s chest. Rather than pulling away from the other, Steve made himself comfortable and settled into Eddie’s side with his head on his shoulder.

“I love hearing you ramble,” was the last thing Steve heard before Eddie kissed him soundly.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson #will byers #el hopper #found family #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #argyle #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #steddie #steve x eddie #stevexeddie

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since-im-already-here · 7 months

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Permit me to remind you

Part 2

Art by Zitszy - found on pinterest

“My darling, permit me to refresh your memory.”

Just as he was about to close the gap between you, finally placing his hand upon your cheek, you hear a faint bell ringing. The bell attached to the corner of the kitchen wall jangled with rattled chimes echoing throughout the kitchen. Miss Kaya is in need of assistance, which means you would not have adequate time to discuss what transpired between you at present.

“Miss K-Kaya?” you nervously stated, shivering slightly at the warmth of his hand leaving your face.

“I must continue my duties,” He stated, trailing his hand slowly down your cheek before slinking away from you, “I will see you in my office later.” Your blush hurried to swell your cheeks at the thought of what is to come from meeting in his office after hours, watching him fix his collar and turn to walk away.

Coughing gently out your fluster and composing yourself, he halted his footfalls, tilting his head to glance at you over his shoulder. Once he shamelessly raked his eyes over your body for any injury or affliction: he noticed you were simply masking your successful fluster, he smirks and pushes up his glasses with the palm of his hand.

Once Klahadore was out of sight, you let out a sigh and moved yourself from the kitchen; just as Sham came into the kitchen to start on the amassment of dirtied dishes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Once concluding your business with Kaya, bringing her a simple glass with cool water to aid her respiration, you find yourself back in your room. You mentally debate the positives and rebuttals of meeting with Klahadore in his office. On one hand, you really want to meet with your boss, and the thought sparks your body alight with shivers of anticipation.

But on the other, you don’t think it’s a very sound decision to make. He was your boss, you a subordinate beneath him. The thought of ‘beneath him’ sparked another shudder to spring from the crown of your head to your toes. You shake your head to rid yourself of the thought, reprimanding yourself for thinking in the more positive light, as opposed to seeking out the negatives in the argument.

If you were to have a relationship with him, even just physical, it would shift the whole dynamic of the workplace environment. The status-quo would be forever changed.

Would it be for the night only? Would he wish to bind himself to you completely, physically and mentally? Did he simply desire to reprimand you for igniting your curiosity by pressing your lips to his? Did you truly desire such a relationship?

Walking over to your vanity, you pick up your hairbrush and begin to harshly rake at your hair with a firm hand. As you continue to brush out your hair, your thoughts spiral through your head: like the rainwater collected on Kaya’s mansion roof, shooting down the metal catchments and filling the dam to the point of bursting.

“Get ahold of yourself, idiot,” you cursed at yourself, your eyes meeting your own within your reflection, “It was just a kiss. An insignificant kiss. A kiss that you should not be dwelling on for so long. It is unbecoming of a woman such as yourself-.”

Breaking you away from your swirling thoughts: a quiet rap of knuckles meeting your door drew you from monologuing aloud further. Thinking it was Sham coming to check your room for forgotten tea cups, you hastily call out to her.

“Just a moment Sham,” You turned your head away from the mirror to throw your words over your shoulder, “I’m just getting ready for bed-.”

“-So, you did choose to disobey me?” The purr of a warm, sly voice answers your call in return.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch the door handle rattle and rotate. As it began to turn, the door milliseconds away from flinging wide to reveal the cause of your grievances; you hastily thrust your body into motion, moving quickly to slam yourself against the door. No thoughts in your head came to you, other than a brief fear of reprimand flooding you to spring to motion. The voice behind the threshold of the doorframe chuckles in a dark rumble, the audible smirk elevating his line of questioning.

“Are you sure you want to play this game darling?” His voice ticked up in his distinct quirk, an almost playful smirk springing over his vocal tone, “I was only coming to talk,” you heard the sound of his gloved hand tracing the wood of the door, sliding down the frame as he spoke, “But we can play if that’s what you want.”

White hot heat floods through your body at his words, the panic in your eyes and harsh beat of your heart thumping against your ribcage. Leaning your back softly against the door, you closed your eyes as you focussed on the words you desired to relay onto him.

“Klahadore please,” you whimpered through your whispered words, “Just give me this night to think, I'm still not too sure of what we were-... -what we are doing.” Your words almost convince you, but the waver in your voice as you cried your plea sounded a bit too desperate. Too needy.

“And for that reason I was hoping to speak with you, Darling,” He withdrew his gloved hand from the wood and hovered it just above the grain, “Open the door. I promise not to touch you, if that is what you truly want.”

The head of fresh blood rushes to your cheeks as you imagine his hands on you again: the firmness of his grasp, the tender embrace of his lips oscillating with your own, the brush of his dark hair over your forehead meeting with the cool metal of his spectacles-.

Your thoughts were drawn away from themselves once more at the rattle of the door handle beginning to move again. You shook your head, reopening your eyes as you hardened your resolve to focus on this heavy conversation. Would it hurt so much to just let him in?

Turning to face the grain of the door, you hastily made your decision to allow your boss permission to enter your suite. Moving your feet slowly backwards, the door opens to reveal the darkened silhouette of the man of your affections; the man who held you so tenderly nights prior, the man who was your boss.

You attempt to calm the rise of your beating heart as you see him, the patter rattling harshly and causing your breaths to fall from your lips in anxious pants. He was exactly the same as you saw him last: raven hair slicked back to reveal his spectacle-clad face, his work suit just as immaculate and neat as they were mere hours prior.

However, his aura had changed. There was something new lying beneath the surface. His grey orbs held a mystery behind them that propelled more anxiety to rise in your features. His pupils were slightly dilated, his lips only subtly parted, and his breathing was heavier and more unbridled as he drew in heaping gulps of the air surrounding you. He almost looks flustered.

Pushing his glasses up from his nose with the heel of his right palm, his eyes flutter down to your body and assess every dip and curve of your body beneath your sleepwear. The bob of his Adams Apple at halting where more skin was exposed to him than within your regular uniform had your heart rapidly beating further, prompting you to shield your body from him to conceal it beneath your forearms.

Seeing you in your night attire seemed to only fluster him more. The heat in your face and the way your lips parted as you took in heavy breaths propelled his own heavy and deliberate breathing to further plague him.

Clearing his throat, he began an attempt at trying to speak - but it seemed he couldn’t quite find the appropriate words to relay onto you. His sly manipulation for you to open the door depleted the last of his energy reserves for the night, his workload catching up to him at last. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you huffed out a breath and shook your head of any last thoughts holding you back.

“Klahadore, is it really appropriate for us to be meeting this late?” you glance at the hanging grandfather clock in the corner of your suite before drawing your eyes to return to his, “And in my bedroom of all places?” He sighed softly before stepping closer to your body, his hand elevating to reach for you. You swiftly stepped back, clicking your tongue in playful reprimand.

“Uh, uh,” you shook your head, “You said you wouldn’t touch me.” A shaken and growl-like sigh fled from his lips, his eyes finding yours once more and softening as he joined them with you. You cocked your head innocently to the side, uttering a simple, “Let’s just talk, please.”

It is at this moment that you became suddenly aware of how truly little was shielding your nudity from his body. The sheer material of your nightdress clinging to your every curve, the outline of your body clearly seen on your quivering flesh. You quickly drew your eyes over your chest first, noticing the dip in fabric and the sheerness of the material before joining your eyes with his - wide and panicked. His eyes were heavy, continuously and hypnotically drawing below your collarbone with his breath shaking, before they snap back up to your eyes.

Moving his hands back to his sides and stepping around you, he finds your plush and dimpled chaise at the end of your bed. The velvet material latches to his trousers as he sits upon its surface, patting the space beside him to beckoning you to join him.

“If you desire me to sit by your side,” you arched your brow up and held your arms folded across your chest, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, given my attire.” You began feeling self-conscious at the notion that this was not only the first time he’s been in your room, he had never seen you in a state less than professional in your attire.

Usually you are strong willed, firm in your ways, and set on making sure Kaya is happy as well as cared for. but right now you feel small in his gaze. Weak to his advances, you want to give in, sit next to him and let him engulf you completely but you are still unsure of what that would make you, what that would do to your somewhat flirty friendship.

“Look at you, timid and shy as a mouse, come here to me” He asks somewhat politely but his eyes tell you that he isn’t leaving much room for debate, his stare wanting you to fight back, wanting you to just try to defy him again. Just as you did in the kitchen.

“Klahadore i-“ you begin but are, rudely, interrupted.

“I know dear mouse, you just want to know what it meant hmm? Was it just to let off some steam? Was I toying with you? Trying to put you in your place after disobeying me?” The minute he started taunting you the minute that fire lit in you again, just as it did when you were being shunned in the kitchen

“How dare you? Coming into my chambers at this hour, speaking to me like I'm beneath you?” As you begin to fume with disgust you realise this is exactly what he wants you to do. He wants you to get frustrated, he knows that’s the only way to get complete control over you. Get you frustrated and upset, then begin his advances with his touches and his kisses, demanding control over your body and syphoning your frustration into lust for him to relieve you of. You have to admit it was indeed working because, even though you have discovered his intentions, you still want him to do it.

“Oh i do like that look on your face, little mouse, i’m sure the situation that we had in the wine cellar that night is weighing on you hmm?”, He folds his hands in his lap and leans back on the chaise’ backrest shuffling himself, legs spreading as he gets comfortable.

“No, it’s not weighing on me at all” you lie, eyes dropping to the floor then back up to him, his smirk. Bastard.

“No? Then why didn’t you come to my office? Instead you hide yourself away like a little mouse running from a cat”

“Would you stop calling me a mouse!” you huff, your arms unwinding themselves from your chest and moving to grip your hips in anger.

“i didn’t come to your office because it was getting late and you were still busy with your duties, i already told you before my working hours begin between the time my lady rises in the morning, and concludes once she is settled for the night, and i did not intend to stay up the night waiting for you to grace me with your presence!” you pant heavily after your words escape your mouth in a hurry.

“oh? But was it not my orders to do so?” he challenges “just as it is now my orders for you to come and sit down” Your brain must have turned off for a second because you feel your body moving towards him and before you could stop yourself he moves forward and collects you, sitting you down beside him, and turning to you.

“Klahadore, what do you want from me?” taking a deep breath to calm yourself,you surge forward and grasp his hands tightly with your own

“i respect you greatly, and i should not have engaged with you in such a way, Klahadore i’m sor-”

“There’s no need to apologise my dear, if i didn’t want it, i would have stopped you. I apologise for teasing. I do want to clear the air” raising his hand to your cheek, the invitation to touch you granted by your hands grasping his not a moment before seems to be consent enough for him.

“As much as I do like teasing you, seeing you get frustrated was a highlight of my day most days, your willingness to bicker with me…well” he stops himself from going any further with that thought and begins another;

“that night was a particularly bad night for Miss Kaya, and i do worry for her. I needed to remove some stress and you were so willing-” Hearing this made you move away, his hand falling from your face,

“is that all it was to you? A release of stress? Well I'm glad it didn’t go any further than it did” you feel your eyes start to well with tears as you stand to walk to the door, waiting to usher him out. Instead as you stand and turn from him, he grabs your wrist and turns you to stand between his legs, your other hand immediately rises to your face to hide yourself from him.

“Let me finish, please Darling” his other hand reaches towards your face, to remove your hand, but you turn so slightly to hide yourself. The hand on your wrist removes itself to find a new home at your waist, drawing you closer.

“Look at me”, it sounds like an order but it’s really a plea, nobody wants to talk to a brick wall. Holding back your tears, you face him again.

“You were so willing, to help me” he took a deep breath, prompting you to do the same,

“I had a lot of tasks so fulfil that day, days of unfinished dishes were piling up, Sham and Buchi were nowhere to be found - then you swoop in, offering to some soup up to Miss Kaya for me” he sighs out his breath “giving me a fresh breath of obedience that i just had to reward”

You go to move your hand out of his grasp to cover your ever heating face again, feeling another wave of embarrassment wash over you

“shh sh sh, come here” you squirm as he pulls and you’re falling into his lap, legs swinging between his knees and hand landing on his chest. His hands begin to wander but stop when they reach your inner thigh and begin squeezing gently. You feel his breath on your neck, you stifle a moan as he begins whispering into it.

“I would never use you, everything i want to do to you - i want you to be begging for it”

You start to think to yourself if it is actually embarrassment or that other red hot feeling. His hands are caressing your inner thighs but never moving above them, subtly teasing that he wants you to start begging for him to do something, but not saying he will.

The confusion of the day, and the workload, finally weigh on you and you feel your body relaxing under his touch. Feeling the sudden mood shift, Klahadore brings his outer hand and begins rubbing up and down your back,

“My poor little thing, the day finally catching up with you? I suppose the threat of a formal reprimand got to you, hm?” his words aren't really being taken to mind as he pulls he stress from your body with just his hands,

“Just relax for me i’ll make you feel better” it doesn't really register in your mind as you're being pulled to your feet and walked over to your bed. Already dressed for bed your body doesn’t feel the need for resistance, but you feel yourself objecting vocally as he situates himself onto your bed after tucking you under your covers,

“What’s the matter now darling?” he doesn’t move from his spot on your bed, sitting on the edge but close enough to touch you.

“No, it’s nothing, just tired I suppose” a headache starts to form, “but I don't want you to think I'm pushing you away or trying to avoid-” you begin to defend yourself.

“No pushing away, just sleep for tonight little mouse, perhaps another night we can play hm?” He swiftly moves himself up, standing over you, ready to leave the room but you grasp his hand before he can do so.

“Perhaps just one kiss Klahadore? To say goodnight?” you see him smirk at this as he leans down to give you a light peck, that you quickly deepen, wanting to feel him flushed again.

“Just a goodnight kiss my darling”, he moves away towards your door and makes a show of blowing out your dim burning candles on your vanity.

He says one final goodnight to you and closes your door, You faintly hear his footsteps leaving. Your headache worsens as you think to yourself. Perhaps you have been working too much lately, but if you were sick, surely the pot of tea you shared with Miss Kaya would help.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apprehensive tag list @fanaticsnail @writingmysanity @sordidmusings

#one piece #op x reader #klahadore x reader #one piece live action #op klahadore #fanfic #opla fic #opla #captain kuro x reader #black cat kuro #op kuro #kuro x reader

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lady06reaper · 8 months

Note

kyle broflovski x reader academic rivals PLLSSSSS rivals-friends-lovers like headcannons

OOOOOOOOOOO

yes.

Kyle x reader hc of academic rivals to lovers trope

first of all, to explain the photo this is how he would look at you anytime you'd beat him at ANYTHING academic

I feel like he wouldn't see you as threat... at first

but then that big test that he spent night and day studying all the notes for comes up, and he gets a 99.5%

YOU GET A 100% AND HE IS FURIOUS

asks your tactics and strategies for studying and remembering the information

you invite him over for a study session *COUGH* date *COUGH*

thats where things get interesting, like he starts to fall for your intellect more than your looks (he prefers brain (( ;) )) over beauty)

if one of you one-ups the other, its just a back and forth battle of who can get the highest score on the next test or project

I can see him being in debate club so if you are too be prepared for the massive blow out drag out arguments that continue even after everyone else has left

and they're over the most stupidest things ever

"The toilet paper is supposed to face the toilet"

"No, it faces the sink you imbecile"

always partners for group projects

after a few study dates, he actually asks you out on an actual date, which is really just you two spending the night at Bennys guzzling coffee studying for the test that is legit in 3 HOURS

after that, you two both get 100%, and thats where he decides to pop the question

"(Y/N), will you be my official study buddy?"

heres where it gets relationship-y

im sorry, but if yall studying theres gonna be a reward system

like every question you get right you get a kiss or if you get one wrong you have to purposely get that question wrong on the test

study dates turn into cuddle sessions to relieve stress before the test or presentation esp. if you have anxiety when it comes to things like that

if you don't feel like studying for whatever reason, that boy will drop his studies for your needs

like yes both of your academic careers are important, but you're more important to him than a letter grade

i feel like during a test one of you will get distracted by the other and it gets hard after that to focus

really you both just want the other to try their hardest and get the best grade yall can get

I hoped you enjoyed it anon! thank you for being my first request!

#kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #south park #south park x reader

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tntduopolls · 3 months

Text

examples below the cut

op 1:

"no no you dont get it, if the free market has no restraints, then its just monopolies, and then were all fucked anyways, dumbass!"

"when the FUCK did I say anything about not penalising monopolies??"

"oh, I dont know, say, when you FUCKING RUN ONE????"

op 2:

"no, wilbur, we cannot have less trains because 'they make you sad'"

"have you considered that they make me sad."

op 3:

you know how they are, bring up a clip on youtube

op 4:

"techno isnt that dangerous, look at him! he sleeps with a stuffed animal!"

"yeah how bot you look me in my eyes- sorry, EYE, SINGULAR, when you say that?!"

op 5:

"did you seriously just forget our first kiss???"

"well im SORRY that I was too high on YOUR weed to remember!"

op 6:

"face it, Q! without me, you would have been dead meat!"

"wilbur, im not getting you another co- WHOA WHOA WHOA YOU MEAN POGTOPIA??? YOU WANT A FUCKING FIGHT??? ILL GIVE YOU A FUCKING-"

op 7

"no, I'm not just like you, because I'm not going to make your mistakes!"

op 8

"just do the damn taxes wil."

"darling. you run, the government. cant you just tell me how much we owe?"

if anyone else has examples, please share! (please please I have a wife and kids and please)

#tntblr #tntduo #c!wilbur #dsmp #dsmp polls #quackbur #tntduo polls #cwilbur #c!quackity #cquackity #tntduo headcanons #tnt duo #dsmp wilbur #dsmpblr #dsmp quackity #dsmp tntduo

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jo-harrington · 2 years

Text

Standard Operating Procedures 1.03 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is no stranger to disappointment, but it still stings, regardless.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Like...it immediately precedes 1.03)

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Chekhov's...Guitar(?), Sad Boy Eddie, Disappointment, Kind of an argument, Disillusioned Eddie, Hurt/Comfort, fluff at the end as per usual.

Note: I am admittedly just making some shit up in this chapter strictly because I don't know how certain things were in the 80s and have already done my fair share of research and math for this fic. I'm a tired girl. Suspend your sense of disbelief. I hope it's seamless regardless.

Also, I just want to say, thank you for all the love this little series has gotten so far. Everyone has been so kind. If you haven't gotten some already, here's some soft internet magic to help you find your own Eddie Munson or mall romance or whatever it is you're looking for. *perpetual magical forehead smooch*

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"M'home!" Eddie announced as he bounded into the trailer. "Isn't it time to make the donuts, old man? Didn't expect you to still be here."

"Eh, Marty's got some appointment tomorrow, so I traded him for 2nd shift," Wayne sighed, sinking further into his arm chair. "Didn't get home too long before you and I don't plan to leave this chair for a good few hours."

"Well, I'll make myself scarce so you can enjoy Johnny Carson in peace," Eddie chuckled, knowing his uncle didn't get much of a chance to indulge in his favorite programs with his work schedule.

"Did ya' have a good session tonight?"

"No session. We went out to celebrate Gareth getting his drivers license."

"S'that why you're so giddy?" Wayne teased good-naturedly.

Eddie thought about it for a second as he kicked off his sneakers, realizing that he had been in a pretty good mood tonight. It had been a fun night out with the guys. And of course, you were there.

It made him happy that you got along with his friends.

And he got to sit next to you and sneak little glances when you didn't know he was watching. And he got to hear the little hitch of your breath at the jump scares and imagine that it would do the same if he kissed your neck the way he wanted to, someday.

You had leaned in close at one point and put your head on his shoulder...only to whisper some joke about a continuity error you spotted. And then grinned when he burst out laughing, only to get confused looks from the guys and curses from the other moviegoers.

It only got better when you agreed to go out on Halloween, as much as he felt like an absolute idiot for asking you.

Who asks a girl to go Trick or Treating? What was he, in 3rd grade? On the upside, it meant you still planned to be his friend come October.

Maybe you would be more than a friend by then.

If he could just get the courage to...actually ask you out.

It wouldn't be that hard, right? He would just have to...maybe hold your hand and ask if you'd ever want...well no that wasn't right...

Fuck. He'd done it before; he'd mostly gotten no's but...

"Y-yeah," Eddie finally responded, realizing his uncle was waiting for an answer. "Zombie movie. You know I like those. Gareth was practically pissing his pants."

"Well good. And you tell that boy not to let the driving thing get to his head," Wayne coughed. "He still owes me a new mailbox after your driving lessons.

"Speaking of which, there's mail for you on the counter," Wayne waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

Eddie shuffled over and thumbed through the envelopes, debating whether or not to pull a Carnac the Magnificent just to get a laugh out of his uncle, only to freeze when he reached the bright blue envelope at the bottom of the stack.

ROANE COUNTY PARKS, RECREATION, & COMMUNITY SERVICES

He didn't even need a second to think before he sprinted across the trailer to shove his feet back into his sneakers, grabbed his keys, and shouted a quick "imgoingtojeffsdontwaitup" as he raced out the door.

If it was any other time, he would have called first. Or waited until the morning. But if he knew his friends--and he knew them well--they went and got Dairy Queen after the movies, and Gareth would be pulling into Jeff's sleepy little cul de sac off Maple any minute now. There was no time to waste.

This was big, for all of them. He couldn’t do this alone.

He drove with the radio off, he kept his hands at ten and two, made a full stop at every stop sign, and didn't even speed like he usually would. Not one mile over the limit. He couldn't risk Callahan catching his scent tonight. And he prayed to every god, goddess, demon, devil, deity—every pantheon—he knew that everything could just be in his favor tonight.

It's just the fair, but what if this is the next step on the road to something bigger.

Eddie started honking as soon as he could see the tail lights of the station wagon. He didn't care who he woke up or what neighbor would call the cops. He didn't even remember putting the van in park before he jumped out; it could have rolled off a cliff, he wouldn't have cared.

The other guys started screaming as he waved the envelope at them.

"This is it, this is it. Did you open it yet?

"A real show, guys."

"Do we need new equipment? Shit, do we need eyeliner?"

"Alright guys calm down," Eddie grinned. "We have to open the envelope first."

They huddled together in the middle of the cul de sac, hovering over the envelope and Eddie held his breath for a moment. This would be the moment...

The moment that they could tell everyone they really started on the road to making it big.

The moment they got their first real set, their first big crowd.

Maybe there would be some talent scout at the fair. They showed up at these sorts of things right?

He might not even need to go back to Hawkins High come September.

Or even if he did…to know that he might be a real rockstar some day...He could ignore all of the shit from the kids and the teachers. It wouldn't need to be another year of ridicule and humiliation.

He ripped through the thin blue paper and pulled out the folded letter within, dropping the envelope immediately in favor of clutching it with both hands as he read.

His hands started to shake as he read, and it was only getting worse by the second.

He was going to vomit. Or...or pass out. Or...

Unfortunately due to the family-oriented nature of this event, the genre of music included in your proposed set list has been deemed inappropriate and we regret to inform you that your application for this year's Roane County 4th of July Festival has been denied.

Eddie was going to die. He would lay down, right here in the middle of the street, and die. They could just re-pave the street right over his corpse.

Here lies Eddie Munson.

Wannabe Rockstar.

He didn't even make it to his 20th birthday.

He finally looked up and passed the letter around, watching--painfully--as their dreams were shattered too. He gauged Jeff's reaction most of all, since he had been the one to propose the idea in the first place. But Jeff was fine; he was just looking right back at Eddie.

"You ok, man?" he asked.

"It's just a stupid fair," Eddie sniffed, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he fought back the tears.

"Yeah," Dave nodded. "There's always next summer."

Next summer. Next year.

Another year he probably wasn't gonna graduate again. Another year stuck in this not-even-one-horse-town.

Sure, he was probably getting ahead of himself with the ideas of fame. But outright rejection? It stung. To be denied the chance to perform, to show off all of their talent, because of the set list he chose.

The guys all trusted him, he always chose songs that highlighted their strengths. Always wanted them to look and play their best. He was so proud of them, he never wanted them to fail.

But they trusted him and it let them down.

And because of that, Eddie couldn't let everything fall apart because he failed.

"They couldn't even let us pick some new songs," Eddie swallowed his pain and laughed dryly. "They don't know what they're missing out on."

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get them going.

"Hey maybe we could write some more original songs for next year?"

"I think if we practiced, I could really nail that one drum solo, hey Ed?"

"We would have totally melted some faces!"

They always held it together for him; he definitely could do it for them too.

---

“Are you sure he’s gonna like this one?”

“This is the newest model,” Eddie explained with a sigh, turning the box over to show off the list of New and Improved features on the back.

The customer was a sleepy-looking older guy in glasses and a wrinkled polo, who walked in 10 minutes before closing, whose wife apparently sent him out for their son’s birthday present: a new Walkman.

And the asshole was really dragging his feet on a decision. Eddie had all of the options they offered laid out on the display case, they'd gone over the different features several times. He almost had the sale, and then the guy realized it was the red model instead of blue. Like it even fucking mattered.

It was Sunday night too. Not like Eddie had anywhere else he needed or wanted to be.

“And if I go to Sam Goody, they’re gonna say the same thing?” He asked.

“You could go down there and ask, but I’ll bet you that it’s gonna be marked up at least 15% more.”

If he left now, the gate would get closed right behind him. The sale wasn’t worth it.

“Hmmmm, fine,” the man harrumphed and began pulling out his wallet. “And throw in a couple tapes too, I guess. I don’t know what Michael likes; whatever you think is popular. You're the expert here, not me.”

As soon as the guy had paid and was walking out of the store, Eddie pulled down the gate and grumbled under his breath "what a fuckin' dickhead, can't make a decision to save his life or even be bothered to know what his son actually wants for his birthday."

Kyle's barking laughter echoed across the store from where he was doing markdowns.

"I can definitely hear you from over here kid," he chuckled. "You've gotta chill.”

"Sorry man," Eddie sighed as he approached the registers to start the closing tasks. "I'm just...I dunno, in a bad mood I guess."

"Well, you're doing a good job, people just suck sometimes."

The first time Kyle told him what a good job he was doing, Eddie nearly confessed that he was channeling Kurt Russel in Used Cars and rolled a D20 for persuasion before each shift.

Whether or not the D20 roll actually worked, Eddie still had some of the best sales numbers on the team. They’d nearly doubled their sales goal today alone. Because despite the entire town seemingly having it in for him, no one seemed to mind that he was the one helping them find whatever it was that they needed.

"Stop thinking about it so much," Kyle laughed. "You just keep making those sales, we keep beating our numbers, and your bonus check's gonna be enough for the last payment on that Warlock you've been drooling over since you started. Doesn't that cheer you up a little?"

Eddie hummed dismissively as approached the cash wrap to start closing procedures, and glared at the stack of handmade fliers for Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night shows at the Hideout, sitting neatly on the electronics display case next to all of the special order catalogs.

Yeah that was the dream.

A stage-worthy guitar and an actual stage and crowd to go along with it.

But it was gonna be forever to get there at the pace he was going.

When he’d gotten home on Friday night and told Wayne about the rejection letter, his uncle clapped him on the shoulder and said “good things come to those who wait.” Of course, Eddie was grateful for whatever advice his uncle gave him. He was just…tired of waiting.

And he'd have to wait even longer, because tonight it didn't even feel like they were going to be able to leave the store at all, let alone on time.

Nothing was going right--or so it seemed thanks to Eddie's mood. And it just seemed to get worse as time wore on. He couldn't get the registers to balance, he kept fucking up the combination to the safe when he went to put the deposit away, the mixtape he put into the shop radio earlier in the evening had jammed, and it took both him and Kyle combined to jimmy it out of the player.

They ran into a problem with every single closing task.

And before long, you were outside of the store waiting, when he had typically made it his habit to wait for you.

It was just...one of those things that Eddie liked to do.

He could imagine he was picking you up for a real date. Watch you as you finished up your own closing tasks, enjoy the little things you probably didn't even realize you did--bob your head along to whatever residual music was playing in the mall, fiddle with your earrings with one hand as you signed deposit slips with the other.

The way you lit up when you saw him outside of the gate--gave him a bright smile and held your fingers up to say how much longer it would be--was one of the highlights of his week, after gigs at the Hideout and crushing the guys dreams during Hellfire.

He could have really used that tonight.

Instead, you were out there waiting as Eddie continued to fuck things up. You smiled and waved as you usually did when you first arrived, leaning on the little coin-operated horse right outside the store. Thanks to his frustration, he couldn't bring himself to smile back. He glanced outside every now and again, and felt his stomach lurch whenever he saw you kicking your feet or picking your nails. Bored. Annoyed. Sick of waiting for him, probably, if the lack of an expression was anything to go by.

He debated simply telling you to leave. That your night out was canceled and you could reschedule another time.

But if you agreed...you might get pissed off for wasting your time and avoid him whenever you saw him from that point forward.

How did this happen? How was it just 48 hours ago that he was coming up with a plan to ask you out? And now he might never talk to you again?

Because he was a loser, he wasn't worth the trouble, that's wh--

"Alright Ed, let's go," Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder and Eddie jumped.

"What?" he stared at Kyle for a second.

"What do you mean what? It's time to go," Kyle explained.

"But the checklist," Eddie frowned, mentally tallying all the tasks they hadn't gotten to. "It's not done."

"You wanna stay and clean the bathroom? Mop the floors? I can just have Paulie do it in the morning," Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the door. "Let's fucking go. There's a whole pan of lasagna waiting for me at home, and your girlfriend is out there waiting for you. Unless you want me to take her out instead?"

Eddie fumbled over his words as Kyle pushed him outside and locked the gate.

"Try to have a good night tonight; someone's got a crab up his ass," Kyle warned you with a wink before heading towards the exit.

You pushed yourself off the play horse and approached Eddie with a frown.

"Hey if you're not up to going out tonight, we don't have to," you offered.

Here it was, the first steps of rejection.

"Yeah, no," Eddie coughed weakly. "If you don't want to go out, that's cool."

He'd heard it all before.

"God you're such a loser."

"Who would ever want to hang out with a freak like you."

"You think I'd actually be into you?"

"It's not about me, I'm asking about you," you smiled gently. "I don't know if you had a bad customer or something. That always gets me in a mood."

Eddie scratched the back of his neck for a second and fumbled over his words. You weren’t turning him away. No you had to be letting him down easily...right? That had to be it.

Eddie…he’d just been burned too many times by so-called friends at even smaller inconveniences. It was hard not to expect the same from everyone else he let into his life.

Except that really wasn’t the way you did things was it? How many times has he expected one thing from you and you'd surprised him with another?

You weren't tricking him or out to get him or waiting for him to mess up. You were accepting him as he was and offering him whatever care or friendship he needed.

"Yeah," he finally scoffed, playing along. "This...this guy who came in right before we closed. Couldn't decide what he wanted. Wasted time walking around. Real piece of shit."

"Well fuck that guy then," you frowned, then paused. "You sure you're up for going out? Even if you don't want to be out and about, we can go back to my place and...I could cook something? Wouldn't be pizza like I promised, but I pretty much subsist solely on pasta if I'm not grabbing takeout or going out with you. You can just hang out, listen to music or something, it’s not a big deal.”

It sounded like the best night ever. Getting to see your space, adding another layer of trust to your friendship, giving you shit about your cooking just like you did with his dinner choices…but…

Eddie knew you had scheduled yourself to open on the 4th so you could see Corroded Coffin’s set. Of course this had all been planned before he knew they weren’t going to play. And he knew he would have to break the news sooner rather than later.

But...just like with the guys...he didn't want to let you down. You, who had your entire life together, who he was lucky gave him the time of day. If you got too comfortable listening to music, you might be reminded and you would ask him about it, and when you found out...

So he would keep you in the dark. For now at least. And then come that night when you met him at the Fair Grounds he could just tell you there was a mix up and you could just enjoy the fair and eat carnival food until you puked instead.

"As tempting an offer as that is, you'd be missing out on your first Benny's experience," Eddie forced an enthusiastic laugh. "Uncomfortable booths, shitty atmosphere. But you haven't really lived in Hawkins unless you've had a patty melt handmade by Benny himself."

"Surely not the famous Benny."

"The one and only. I can only semi-promise he won't scratch his back with his spatula, but he will blend a piece of apple pie into your milkshake if you ask nicely. It's the Munson Special."

Your eyes sparkled before you looked down at your feet for a moment, and Eddie vibrated restlessly, nerves getting the best of him once he wasn't being observed by you. You then looked up at him with your lips twisted to control a smile and you nodded.

What a relief...

---

It was an undeniable fact that Benny's was the heart of Hawkins, and Benny himself the soul.

He was a severe-looking man at first glance--wide-shouldered with a wild beard and furrowed brows--but he always had a laugh and a story to tell. He went out of his way to learn everyone's name and make them feel welcome and would already be prepping the grill for one of his regular's orders as soon as he saw their car pull into the parking lot.

And Eddie, by the grace of his mother's previous employment at the diner, was one of Benny's favorites. He told you as much and warned you of his "celebrity status" on the drive there.

"He's gonna be very loud, but he's really funny. And he might grill you about what sports teams you like, so he might give you some shit if you don't have one. Actually, are you a big sports fan? Oh, and he might grab me by the collar and shake me around a little, but it's ok...that's just his thing. He's been doing it since I was a kid after the one time I ate all the mints in the jar by the register."

"Eddie, don't worry it'll be ok," you laughed and shifted in the passenger's seat to get a better glimpse of him. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"

"What, no," he scoffed.

Yes, he most definitely was. And he could feel himself get hotter as you continued to watch him.

"It's ok, family can be embarrassing sometimes," you shrugged. "At least it's just funny embarrassing and not painful embarrassing."

Eddie swallowed nervously and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

Yeah this would be like meeting someone from his family, wouldn't it.

He was so caught up in his nerves and self-pity, he really hadn't thought of it that way.

"Unless Benny has some baby pictures of you on the wall something," you continued with a conspiratorial grin.

Fortunately, no baby pictures; unfortunately there was a picture on the wall near the old jukebox of a 9-year old Eddie with Benny and Rick, standing next to some massive fish they caught out on Lover's Lake. Whether to emphasize how big the fish was or how short Eddie was, he couldn't recall. All he knew was that he was missing a few baby teeth and his knees were all scabby from one fantastical adventure in the woods or another.

But you didn't need to know about that.

The diner was, thankfully, busy by the time you guys arrived, so you were spared Benny's theatrics short of a "how's it going kid" shouted from the kitchen and a bunch of muffled greetings from some of the regulars who were around when Eddie's mom was still alive. You did, however, get to meet Lynn, the blue-haired waitress that probably worked at Benny's longer than Benny had even owned the place. She was a crank and incredibly opinionated and always let Eddie's mom, then eventually Wayne and Rick, know all of the ways they were failing at raising him.

Now that Eddie was grown, she simply let him know every time she had a problem with him.

But Eddie was shocked at how swiftly you navigated the interaction with her, dodging all of the tricks and traps that typically set Eddie up for some kind of insult or life lesson.

Lynn simply took your orders--patty melts and fries with the promised apple pie shakes, "oh and extra whipped cream please"--hummed judgmentally and stalked off to top off various coffee cups. She didn't even say anything about the lack of vegetables on Eddie's plate when the food was finally ready, like she usually did when he came in for late night bites with the guys.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Eddie leaned across the table conspiratorially. "She's had it out for me for years."

"Old people love me," you explained. "I've driven my papa to enough doctor's appointments and sat through enough of his stories that I have...what did you call it? In your game? A bluff?"

"Buff," he corrected with a nod.

"Grandchild buff," you agreed and he laughed.

"Repel the Elderly," Eddie puffed out his chest and adopted his DMing voice. "A level 4 spell. No damage taken from anyone over the age of 65. But it only lasts 2 rounds. Let's hope the Harpy doesn't come back otherwise I'll need you to make a constitution saving throw. If you roll below a 10, she deals double poison damage; you might not survive."

You threw a fry at him and stuck out your tongue, then asked him to tell you more about Dungeons and Dragons. Everything was normal for a little while as you ate and talked.

Until Benny came to check on his patrons. He typically made the rounds every hour or two, stopping at tables and saying hello. The two of you were laughing at some joke Eddie made by the time Benny got to your booth.

"Hey, kid," Benny leaned his hip against the booth with his arms folded across his chest. "Long time no see; heard you got a real life, grown up job."

"Hey Ben, yeah. At the mall. Been more than a month now. I'm guessing Rick's been by?"

"You know how it goes: holiday weekend coming up, he pulls an all nighter getting supplies from his guy up in Milwaukee. Then he gets the waffle platter with extra bacon and we talk about all the town gossip."

"Nice to know I'm still gossip-worthy."

"You know how proud he is of you. This, uh...a coworker or something? You gonna introduce me or no?" Benny changed the subject and gave Eddie a knowing look. You, however, swooped in to introduce yourself as Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

He hadn't exactly told Wayne or Rick about you yet. Just that he had some new friends who worked at the mall too. It wasn't the same as talking to the guys. How many times had he had a crush over the years and came home excited about someone only to get his hopes obliterated. How many pep talks had he endured? Now, thanks to Benny's big mouth and Rick's unending need for gossip, they'd know he had taken a pretty girl to the diner.

He could truly only hope that there wouldn't be another pep talk associated with you.

"...ok Chicago," Benny sniffed as your short conversation came to an end. "You're alright. Backing the wrong football team...but still alright. Nice to meet you.”

He then turned back to Eddie.

"I need to get back to the kitchen but Rick told me about the 4th of July thing.” Eddie froze and his mouth went dry. "I'm sorry to hear about it. If you and the guys want, you can do a show here that night instead. Lot of families stop by for ice cream and pie and such.

"Maybe not that real heavy stuff you're into, but I know you boys know how to play some of the classics off the old jukebox. We could set you up in the parking lot. Phil's got some folding tables from the tree lot."

"Yeah thanks," Eddie nodded. "That sounds great. I'll bring it up to the guys when we have practice tomorrow."

"Just let me know so we can make sure you have everything you need." He turned his attention back to you. "Again, it's nice to meet ya'. Don't let Eddie scare you off, he's a big old teddy bear."

"Ben!" Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

"Oh he won't; I'm definitely scarier than he is," you cackled. "Nice to meet you too Benny."

Once he was gone, Lynn swooped in with the check. You immediately made to grab for it before Eddie could dare, but Lynn stopped you.

"No need honey; Edward already paid," she hummed. "As a gentleman should; seems Wayne taught you something right."

"It's always nice to see you too Lynn."

The older woman rolled her eyes and shuffled away.

You waited until she was gone before you turned your attention back to Eddie, gritted your teeth, balled the check up and threw it at him.

"Stop doing that! When did you even--"

"When you went to the bathroom," Eddie grinned triumphantly.

"You are a menace and you must be stopped!" You threw your hands in the air as you pushed yourself out of the booth to leave. "I'll get you back one day, I swear to God."

Eddie clasped both hands to his chest and gasped dramatically.

"No, please," he exclaimed. "No holy oaths in front of a lowly devil worshiper like me. I can feel the bullshit burning through me."

"Shut up, I hate you." You laughed. "Just let me pay for dinner next time."

“No, I let you pay for pizza," Eddie argued.

"You let me pay for a pizza. One. And you didn't let me do anything, I had to jump out of the van before you could. I don’t even think you had parked it yet."

“This is slander! I object.” Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with the most stern expression he could muster. “I also let you buy cannolis.”

“Alright Perry Mason,” you rolled your eyes at him and swatted his hands off your shoulders. “You win this time.”

“Excuse me but Perry Mason always wins!"

---

You finally brought it up on the way to Lover's Lake.

It hadn't been Eddie's intention to always end your Sunday nights out at the lake, it just...happened. Pizza that first night, then Chinese food the following week when you lost track of time sitting in the employee parking lot debating which Indiana Jones film was better, Raiders or Temple of Doom. (It was Raiders. Obviously.)

Tonight, the plan had been to make s'mores on the fire pit in Rick's backyard. He had suggested it after he'd spotted a sandwich board outside of Scoops Ahoy advertising their knew Gimme S'mores flavor. He'd subtly asked you later if you had ever made s'mores before, and then gave you shit for your absolute throwaway answer.

"Like...yeah, in the microwave."

"The micr--are you shitting me right now?!"

"I'm sorry, there wasn't really an opportunity to start a bonfire in my fully paved backyard."

"Did you even have a childhood? No s'mores, no pudding, no sugar cereal? NO QUISP!"

So Eddie had gone to Bradleys and gotten marshmallows and chocolate and a variety of cookies. The plan, if you were ok with it, was going to be to smoke for a little bit--he'd dreamed of a s'more made with chocolate chip cookies when he had gotten high the other night and was very much looking forward to it--and enjoy the sweetness of both the s'mores and your company.

Instead, it had all shattered around him as he turned onto Cornwallis.

"So..." you began hesitantly, tapping your hands on your lap.

"So...?" Eddie asked, glancing over at you. You leaned forward a little, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What?"

"Benny's offer...for the 4th..."

"What about it?"

"You guys should do it!" you exclaimed. "That sounds like a really fun time."

You went on about the intimate venue and the regulars who already seemed to know Eddie and the guys, if what you had just seen at the diner was any indicator. The more you spoke, the more irritated Eddie seemed to get.

Not irritated...with you. No, just uncomfortable in his own skin. Uncomfortable with the fact that his failure was being perceived.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his chest hurt. The van seemed to be getting smaller and hotter, the seat more uncomfortable, the longer you spoke.

By the time you finished, he barely felt like himself.

"No," he coughed. "No, I don't think the guys would be up for something like that."

"Why not?" you questioned. "You were getting ready to play at the fair right? What makes this different?"

"It just is," Eddie shrugged.

"I mean I get it's not a stage but--"

"You're not even gonna ask why we aren't playing at the fair?" Eddie cut in, attention fully taken off the road as he stared at you expectantly.

Because...because yeah you were nice, but it didn't make any sense that you were just...going along with whatever you heard. Why were you so quick to try and get him to accept this pity offer from Benny. Why weren't you throwing it in his face that plans had changed and his dreams were shattered.

"Ok. Why aren't you playing at the fair?" you asked and Eddie scoffed. "I'm not trying to be passive aggressive or anything, you just seem irritated that I didn't ask first. So now I am asking."

"Does it matter?" Eddie shrugged.

"Yes, because you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Eddie, please," you sighed. "Even Kyle said something was bothering you. I'm not trying to stir the pot and if you want me to drop it, I will. You just...when you talk about your music and the band you're always so excited. I want to understand why you don't want to take this opportunity."

"Because it's a reminder that I'm a failure!" Eddie shouted, hands coming off the steering wheel as he held them up beside his head. "Sur-fucking-prise! I can't seem to do anything right and that's usually fine, but yeah, you're right, this was one of the only things that really mattered to me and the guys. And I couldn't even get that right.

"Benny isn't asking if we wanted to play because he likes our music, because he thinks we're any good. No, it's because he feels bad that we can't play at the Fair. Because I chose what I thought was a really fucking cool set list and they turned us down. Because I fucked up and he wants to cheer me up."

"What's so bad about that? What's so bad about people who care about you wanting to take care of you?" you asked.

"Because it isn't care; it's pity!" He argued. "It's always pity of one kind of another, right? Pity that my mom died, pity that I live in a trailer park, pity that I have this dream that's gonna get me nowhere, pity that I can't even pass senior year after two freaking tries. What's the point anymore? I'm tired."

The van rumbled along, but it was silent otherwise. Eddie couldn't look at you after his outburst so he wrung his hands around the steering wheel.

Fuck. He really did it this time.

Eddie knew, he knew you were gonna ask and he was gonna try to avoid it and he was going to disappoint you. But he didn't know...

Eddie didn't like getting angry or really showing those kinds of emotions. It was different if he snapped at the guys to reel them in, or snark at stupid kids at school. It was harmless, no actual malice behind it. There were just some times...where he felt it all get too overwhelming inside of him and he didn't want to...

He didn't want to be like his dad.

It's why he liked smoking. And why he liked smoking. He wouldn't say he was someone with a lot of sharp edges to begin with, but they helped smooth out whatever rough burrs that came from the every day were left over on his soul after a tough week.

If only he had made it to Lover's Lake before you asked.

He had made the next turn back onto the highway when you spoke.

"Do you think I'm hanging out with you because I pity you?" you broke the silence with a small voice, and when he looked over, you were playing with your fingers and gnawing at your bottom lip. You didn't look scared or upset, really. That was a bit of a relief. But...

"No, I didn't mean..." Eddie paused for a second, because actually...he didn't think you were hanging out with him out of pity. But he was just waiting for the moment you realized it wasn't worth hanging out with him anymore because he was pitiful.

So maybe it was just worth it to end this whole thing now and save himself some unexpected disappointment. Just like it had been with everyone else who suddenly dropped him like a hot potato.

"I mean yeah," he shrugged. "Look at you. And then look at me. We don't exactly make sense."

"Make what sense?"

"You're like...you have everything figured out, you have your whole life together, you're like...on top of the world. Got your promotion to Store Manager, your apartment, everything. Meanwhile--"

"Eddie."

"--I can't even finish high school, my band can't play a bigger crowd than the Hideout, I'm pretty sure I...accidentally sold my soul or something because Kyle hired me and I'm actually doing a good job? But where am I gonna be in 5 years, in 10? Probably still right where I am. I've literally screwed up everything I've ever put my mind to. It doesn't make sense."

"When things don't work out for us, when we're disappointed, yeah it does feel like nothing makes sense," you sighed. "But that's why you need to let the people around you who want to help you, actually help you.

"It's not a bad thing to accept he--Why are we back at the mall?" You suddenly asked as he pulled onto the Mall drive and headed towards the employee lot.

"Well I figure the night is over, I would take you back to your car," he shrugged weakly.

You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded.

Yeah, that's what he thought.

He still got out of the van and opened the door for you when he parked next to your car, he offered you some chocolate to take home if you wanted, and he even kissed your hand before you got in the car to leave.

"See you around sweetheart," he said softly through your open window.

"See you Eddie, have a good night please," you offered a small smile. "Please...be good to yourself ok?"

He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched you drive away before he got back into the van.

Be good to himself.

Weird, but that definitely sounded better the "fuck you" he usually got when people disappeared from his life.

---

Except you didn't disappear from his life. You lived in the same town, worked at the same mall, for crying out loud; you still parked your car kind of close to his when he came in for the rest of his shifts that week. You didn't eat lunch together like you'd gotten used to doing...but he would still catch glimpses of you as you passed each other on break.

It was almost...back to how it was before he had gotten the nerve to go and talk to you that first time. You would smile and wave and he would look away. Neither of you said anything to one another, but you weren't hostile and neither was Eddie.

The 4th of July arrived and Eddie had to work. He had originally traded shifts with someone so he could do a short mid instead of a close and he'd forgotten to switch it back. But that meant he caught you leaving Tape World at the end of, what should have been, your 15 minute break.

"What was she doing here?" Eddie asked Kyle, who was surprisingly decked out in as much flag gear as he could get his hands on.

"Who? Oh your girlfriend?" Kyle pushed his star-shaped sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he filed some receipts away. The grin on his face was obnoxious.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Uh huh. Sure. Well, her shop radio broke again and she forgot her tapes again," Kyle shrugged. "What else is new? Hey maybe if I send you up there on official Tape World Business, you two can make up and you can stop being such a fuckin' grump."

Eddie ignored him.

That night, there was no concert at Benny's but he and the guys did end up going to the fair and eating funnel cake until they puked.

They actually had a good time; they had even watched the musical lineup for a little while. Whatever the clerk at the Park Department had chosen wasn't nearly as good as Corroded Coffin would have been. And that knowledge, paired with Gareth's heckling and Jeff's booing, kind of made him feel a little better.

The following Sunday passed by without your usual date night. Eddie still passed by your store on the way out to the employee lot. You didn't look at him or wave this time, you were at the register going over something with, what looked to be, a new hire. You laughed and his chest hurt a little.

Eddie knew how much those little dates, how much those lunches and breaks spent together, really brightened up his week. But it wasn't until he didn't have them anymore that he realized just how strong of a foothold you had in his life in such a short amount of time.

He really should never have pushed you away like he had.

He had fucked up.

He missed you.

---

"Hey Ed, once you clock in can you check the shipment in?" Kyle asked as soon as Eddie crossed through the doors to start his shift the following Wednesday.

"Yeah, great," Eddie sighed. “No problem.”

It wasn’t that he hated checking the shipment in….it’s just that there were about a million other parts of working at Tape World that he liked better. Talking to customers, choosing what would play on the store radio for the duration of his shift…shit, even counting down the registers at night. But this was tedious. Busy work.

It was an endless stack of boxes and he needed to make sure what was inside matched the packing slip. Thousands of little tapes. Great.

"There's some special orders back there too, if you can give the customers a call!" Kyle hollered after Eddie as he slipped into the stock room. Sure enough, there were a few larger boxes propped up by the little break area.

Now that was something Eddie enjoyed a little more. He'd call the customers--usually some desk jockey who got themselves something to get through their mid-life crisis, or a parent getting some dream gift that their kid would forget about come next month--and tell them their special order had just arrived. Then typically, they would drop into the store that day or the next day and he would get to help them unpack and test out their brand new guitar.

Aside from selling the sparkling new guitars from one of the many catalogs at the counter, this was the best part of his job. And knowing he would get to do it immediately brought his mood up.

Eddie himself had been waiting for the day where a package would be there for him. On his first day, as they were setting up the store before the mall had even opened, he had unpacked the box of catalogs and found a doozy of guitar that he had his eye on: A BC Rich Warlock. And he had been putting money towards it with every paycheck. Tape World had a plan, just like the holiday layaway at K-Mart, and combined with his employee discount...he was almost there.

He dreamt about it as he grabbed a box and pulled the packing slip from where it was attached on the side of the box.

Maybe in the next few weeks? Next month? He'd come back here and the label would say...

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive/Unit F3

Eddie blinked.

Yeah. That's what it would say.

Wait. Was he still high from after last night's show? When they'd made a very late McDonalds run and smoked in Gareth's garage?

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive

He blinked again. Nope, still the same.

Edward Munson

"Well?" Eddie jumped at the sound of Kyle's voice by the stockroom door. He had his arms crossed and he had the biggest grin on his face. "You gonna open it or what?"

"What the fuck man? Where did this come from?" Eddie questioned.

"I would assume wherever BC Rich makes their guitars? California, I don't know. I work here, remember dingus?"

"No I mean," Eddie fumbled over his words. "I hadn't made the last payment, where did it...did you..."

"Look at the packing slip man," Kyle gestured. "The order form."

Eddie quickly flipped to the Tape World order form stapled to the packing slip. There were lines of his signatures, and the amount of money he had put down with each payment...and then at the very bottom...

A very intricate signature. Yours. And the last hundred dollar payment, marked in red pen.

No. You didn't. You couldn't have. When did you even?

"I told you she was your girlfriend," Kyle cackled. "I fuckin' told you."

Kyle had been gracious enough to let Eddie take an early lunch so he could find you...confront you...kiss you...Eddie wasn't sure yet.

You opened on Wednesdays so right about now you would be taking the cardboard out to the loading dock and then taking your last break. He knew because, if not for the fact that he hadn't talked to you in over a week, he would be right there with you.

Still you jumped in surprise when he burst onto the loading dock, the heavy dock door slamming into the brick wall, just as you were hitting the button on the baler.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie," you put your neon pink, fishnet glove-clad hand on your chest. "Gave me a heart attack."

"Why did you do it?" Eddie asked.

"Do what?"

"This," he pulled the order form from his back pocket and crossed the short distance to show you. He tapped on your signature several times. "Why would you do this for me?"

Your mouth formed a soft "oh" and you sighed.

"Because you're my friend," you explained as if it was obvious. "Because you've been really down and you needed cheering up."

"This isn't just...cheering a friend up. It's too much."

"It really isn't," you shook your head.

"It's a hundred dollars!"

"I have savings," you continued.

"And you have, like...rent and bills and stuff."

"So do you...you said you've been helping your uncle with rent and bills and stuff," you said in a way that mocked him. He gritted his teeth.

"I was gonna use my sales bonus for the final payment."

"Well I'm due for mine coming up too."

"I'm paying you back!" Eddie insisted.

"No you aren't. I wanted to do this for you so I did it."

"If you felt sorry for me or--"

"I just wanted to cheer you up Eddie!" You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the baler button again in finality, as if crushing the already-crushed cardboard was somehow going to drive your point home. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't pity you. You're my friend and you were really down, disappointed.

"Tell me yes or no? Were you on the verge of giving up? Yes or no, right now."

Eddie froze.

No he wouldn't. Except...hadn't he? There was no 4th of July Fair, which meant there also wasn't a show at Benny's. Their last set at the Hideout wasn't...well he wasn't as good as he could have been. As good as he usually was.

Maybe he had...given up on himself a little. Let the self pity get the best of him.

"No," was the answer he gave you though.

Your eyes hardened and narrowed in challenge. You placed your hands on your hips and stood toe to toe with him and although he was the taller one between the two of you, it certainly felt like you were a giantess towering over him, complete with layers of fishnet and rayon and tulle fluttering in the slight breeze off the loading dock.

"Maybe you didn't hear yourself in the van after Benny's but I did," you began. "You felt like everyone pitied you, that no one was your friend or on your side. You were alone, and in place of real pain and disappointment, and you said you were tired. What is the point of trying anymore, you're tired. You said that, Eddie. You did.

"And I've been there, ok? I'm not that much older than you but I kind of am in a different stage of my life. So I'm sorry if I've ever made it seem like things are easy for me...I'm sure in some aspects they are, but in others...yeah I've been there. It's hard not to compare yourself to others when you're down, but also, you can't just...push people away or think that they're taking pity on you when they're just trying to help.

"And I know it's hard to get over that little hurdle of feeling like everything is a trick or a trap and accept nice things from other people, so excuse me if I took the initiative to do it without your permission. Because when I was at a place of giving up and not wanting help or advice, someone did that for me. So I'm doing it for you now. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Eddie stared directly into your eyes as he processed everything. Back and forth, left and right, as your heavy breathing went back to normal.

"Because, if you fail to remember, you have been doing nice things for me these past few weeks, and you really haven't let me return the favor quite yet, so if you don't want to accept that I'm just doing something nice for a friend, then accept that I'm paying you back for all the nice things you've done for me."

He swallowed and looked down at his feet for a moment.

"It was just...some pizzas and snacks--"

"And chili cheese fries, and surprise sodas on the days we don't have our breaks at the same time, and that movie ticket, and dinner at Benny's, and all the gas you've used to drive us around when at this point I can probably navigate town by myself," you finished for him.

Eddie did a mental tally and yeah, you were right. He did do all of those things, and no, he hadn't and probably still wouldn't let you return the favor if you gave him the chance to be your friend again.

"I know friendship isn't supposed to be transactional, but the scale has been tipped immensely towards you, so instead of just sitting back and watching you feel like a failure and give up on your dream because some stupid...I don't know, festival...person has no taste in music, I wanted to do something to surprise you. To cheer you up."

"Why haven't you talked to me then?" he asked.

"What do you mean? You haven't been talking to me," you laughed. "I've been waving and saying hello...you dropped me off at my car that night and then...you haven't even looked at me since. So I figured you just needed the space. I get that too; needing some time, some space."

"I guess I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore," Eddie replied lamely. Because yeah, you had been doing those things. Maybe...maybe you were right, maybe he did need the space too. God, you were such a know it all. "I'm here now."

"Yeah I see that," you deadpanned. "Hi."

"Hi," Eddie parroted. "Thank you. For the surprise. I really...really was...surprised."

"Of course, any time," you nodded. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just like you said, I needed some time to work it out. Spent some time with the guys, it cheered me up."

"Good."

"You missed out on all the carnival food. Made the guys ride the tilt a whirl...Gareth's puke was purple."

"Yeah," you scrunched your nose. "I really missed out."

"There's always next year."

"Great." You offered him a small smile. "We good?"

"Yeah. You still want to hang out with me on Sunday? I, uh, really missed you."

"I missed you too. Maybe...you can give me a private show this Sunday? With your shiny new guitar? Only if you're up for it, of course."

"Absolutely. Sundays with you are my..." Eddie hesitated.

Should he say it? Would it scare you away?

Before he could finish, you put your hand on his arm and squeezed.

"They're mine too."

---

Next Part: Interview Prep

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#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fluff #store manager verse

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