#I WILL MAKE LOVE TO YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME EDDIE

[alchemistc]

You never let me in, Buck sends, two of three sheets fully winded, and when he kicks his leg over the coffee table he nearly knocks over three empties.

They do this thing, right? Buck gets upset and before the tears can fall, because he's cried too many fucking times already, he makes himself angry. Picks at something that has come up every time he's done a post-mortem on the last six months.

And then he sends that shit to Tommy. Because - because who the fuck else is he supposed to talk to about it? The guy who'd sucked him off in the hallway of a nightclub two weeks ago? The woman who'd spent an hour quietly helping Buck understand that yeah, he was very much bi, and yeah, some people did not like that shit? Maddie, or Chim, or Hen or Eddie, who still might interact with him on the job? Bobby? Fuck, not Bobby.

Bobby who'd blinked at Buck and offered platitudes and apologized to Buck like it was somehow his fault Tommy was good people but he was the kind of good people who just walked out on something that could have been something.

I should have pushed more. I know I should have. I just thought since I was trying to share everything, you were too.

My mistake.

Three months and Buck isn't over it. He's far enough into the mourning process that he thinks this one is always gonna sting, and not for the reasons Tommy thinks.

That's not fair. I'm sorry.

The texts get delivered. Tommy reads them. Buck's had read receipts on since the first time Tommy went quiet on a call and Buck freaked out a little - but back then they were still working towards something. Back then, sometimes Tommy would pull out his phone and open the thread just to give Buck sign of life.

He was always doing that. Heading shit off at the pass.

Buck had just never realized he'd be able to do it to hurt him, just as well as take care of him.

Every four weeks like clockwork Buck gets a response. He has no fucking idea why it's four weeks, what the third Thursday of the month has to do with Tommy feeling gracious enough to give Buck some clarity. He'd never known enough about Tommy, is the thing he's coming around to. He'd done everything he could to bring Tommy in, make him a part, and Tommy had let him. Tommy had distracted him with quippy words and a clever tongue and with being so fucking willing to be integrated into Buck's life that Buck just - hadn't noticed.

No one will say it, but he Bucked It Up in the worst kind of way.

He's waited until Third Thursday to send these texts. He actually hasn't sent anything at all, until this moment, and he wonders if Tommy noticed. If he cared. Tommy picks and chooses from Buck's random thoughts, parses out details like he's reading from a manual and Buck is off topic two thirds of the time. Buck doesn't actually know why he's been answering, all this time. He wonders if, in the last four weeks of silence, he thought he was finally done with Buck.

He wonders if it had hurt.

Buck sets his phone down to stand, skating across to the kitchen in his socks for the pizza rolls in the oven.

His diet is shit. His body feels like crap. He's one more drunken nights sleep on the couch away from emptying the rack in his fridge down the drain and giving sobriety a try. The last person he'd slept with had hinted that they'd prefer not to use condoms and Buck had almost let them.

Buck has worth. He knows he does. It's just sometimes when he remembers that every person he's ever loved has either walked out on him or let him walk away when he needed them, he struggles to find that worth.

His life has meaning, and all that jazz.

Buck sort of wonders if Tommy hasn't finally blocked his number, as he tosses a too-hot pizza roll in his mouth and huffs on the lava cheese burning his tongue. After the last message Buck had sent, three weeks ago, he wouldn't exactly be surprised.

(This is basically just an unhinged grief journal with an unreliable second narrator. Do you know what it's like to realize you're still in love with someone who never let you know them?)

There's been no response to that. Fair. Buck hadn't even actually said the words. No, he'd jumped right into the sharing a life part, cart before the horse as always when emotions were high.

The pizza rolls get tipped onto a plate and are immediately swimming in the heavy pour of ranch he'd prepared after he set the oven to preheat.

It cools them off a lot quicker than popping a hole in each seam and waiting.

It's been eight years since Buck has really even thought about that little trick.

When he opens his phone there's no response. No receipt. Just stark words waiting to be acknowledged.

I gave you my family, Tommy. You didn't even introduce me to your team at Harbor.

It's startling to realize after the fact. He doubts Tommy had meant it that way, but he'd basically spent six months being love bombed only to have the rug ripped right out from under his feet.

And yet. Months later and he still wants to know. Know why. Know how he could have done it, with tears in his eyes, with full awareness that it was already gonna hurt. Know Tommy - anything he'd part with, really, that wasn't something every random acquaintance also knew.

Cool, he'd been jealous of what Buck and the 118 had. (Buck had tried to give him that. Or at least he thought he had.)

Great, he didn't talk to his dad and Gerrard was a shitty captain. (Buck had spent an hour once explaining the first time he and his dad had spoken about Daniel without screaming at each other. Tommy had listened to the rants about Gerrard and offered physical comfort and a 'sounds like him' and Buck had just been so relieved to have an ally amongst the 'life is just like this sometimes' crowd that he'd never examined that.)

He was a Kinsey six who'd been engaged to the first woman Buck had ever really loved and they'd never dug deeper than that.

And Buck had apparently interpreted some of the shit he'd said that night wrong, but he still doesn't think it's fucking fair that Tommy can't trust him to know his own fucking mind well enough to know he hates sleeping around and he'd found the sort of connection he was looking for. He'd found it. Even with the lack of reciprocation. Even with the quiet behind Tommy's eyes that he'd never let Buck in on. Even with the -

His phone buzzes on the coffee table.

Can we talk?

Buck kinda hates those words in that order now. They'd been the start of something twice, but they'd always been leading to an end, if Tommy had his way.

Once every four weeks, apparently, Buck sends back and takes a vicious bite.

His phone chimes with an incoming call.

Buck stares at the name he hasn't had the stomach to remove the little heart from. Lets it ring through to voicemail and then shoves three more pizza rolls into his mouth and doesn't care if they burn off his taste buds.

His phone rings again.

"What?"

"I'm outside your building. Didn't want to make any assumptions that I'd be welcome without asking first."

Buck can feel his ribs cracking under the lurch of angry laughter. "What the hell?"

"Well the parking around here is miserable again, so I figure that's a sign."

"Are you driving right now?"

"Hands off. I'm on Bluetooth. So. Should I circle the building a fifth time or call it now and go home?"

Buck gets stuck on fifth time.

There's no way he hadn't been driving since at least before Buck sent that first text.

Buck sighs. There's absolutely no reason to be hopeful about that. For all he knows, Tommy has just decided dousing any residual flames is just another thing he has to do in person.

"My Jeep's in the shop. I'll buzz you into the garage."

Tommy's silent for a long, long moment. The quip comes anyway. "I keep telling you that thing is a money pit."

"I'm not really feeling the flirty banter, right now, Tommy, so maybe just let me know when you're at the gate."

He does. He hangs up the phone twenty seconds later with a plain "See you soon."

Buck doesn't have time to change. Fix his hair. Hide the sheet pan with half a dozen pizza rolls still laying on it, because he'd cooked way too many again.

(He could absolutely do one of these things but if Tommy's gonna throw this at him, he's getting every little slovenly habit Bucks's picked up since he walked out that door.)

The knock comes while Buck's shoving the last two rolls on his plate into his mouth.

He's still chewing with his mouth open to blow out the steam when he swings the door open, and Buck feels the first inklings of pleasure ripple through him at the sight of Tommy.

He looks like shit.

"You look like shit."

Tommy's brow ticks up. He stares pointedly at the glob of not-cheese that's going to absolutely ruin this sweatshirt.

"That tends to happen when you spend an hour in an armchair two sizes too small picking at trauma you've been hiding from your therapist for six years."

Buck opens the door wider. Holy crap. Tommy might legitimately be more fucked up than Buck.

Tommy's smile is strained. "Can I come in?"

Buck holds his gaze. His eyes are a little red. He's got a red spot along the side of his neck, like he's been rubbing at it. Buck only recognizes it as a comforting motion because he's replayed him doing it half a million times right before he ended things.

"Depends. Is this the last time you respond to my mean, rude, asshole texts for an hour after therapy rubs you raw?" Third Thursday Therapy, is apparently what does it. Buck is - god. He just wants -

"God, I hope not," Tommy says, and Buck takes a step to the side to let Tommy in.

[megalony]

Have A Little Faith

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine I had based on a idea after seeing the newest episode. I hope you will all like it.

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Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: Eddie goes to confession because he feels guilty. Guilty for distancing his family from his parents, for not trusting them anymore. And for the memories he has from trying to protect his wife when they didn't help her.

(I'd love any feedback on this one)

Enjoy.

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

"Dios, what am I doing here?"

It sounded like a rhetorical question, but Eddie wasn't so sure if he was asking himself or if he was in fact, asking God for the answer to that.

His head tilted back and his eyes cast high until he was staring up at the ceiling which seemed thousands of miles away just like the stars when he stared up at them at night. He found himself focusing on the arched roof, the vertical beams and slanted wood holding the roof together and the high arches that provided shelter for the birds that often flocked into the church for sanctuary.

Eddie figured all forms of animals needed sanctuary from something at one point or another, not just humans.

His boots clammered against the heavy stoned floor and made it sounded like he was making an entrance, but not the good kind. The vibrating noise his boots made sounded omnimus, like he was making his descent into Hell and announcing his presence. Maybe that was what he was doing, he couldn't be sure.

At least there was no one else here.

It was early. Morning mass had already taken place, but the next one wouldn't be until late this evening. That was why Eddie was here. He knew from experience that hardly anyone came to church at this time and he was relieved to find every pew was vacant. There wasn't a soul in sight, except for the priest who was conveniently stood near the confessionals.

Part of him wanted to turn away. A big part of Eddie's mind was telling him to turn around and leave. This wasn't a good idea. He shouldn't be doing this. He hadn't committed a big sin in order to be here, and he wasn't in a dire situation where he needed to pray to God for strength or a miracle. He hadn't been inside a church since before he moved to LA and he hadn't done confession since he was in school.

But he didn't know what else to do and there was a tiny, miniscule part of Eddie's brain that told him that a confession, or that being inside a church like this, might just give him the sense of peace he was searching for.

His hand stuffed deep into his pocket and his other hand merged with the back of his head so he could scratch his nails deep enough into his hair to reach his scalp and create scratches along the base of his neck.

His head aimed down and his eyes trained in on the slabs of stone beneath his feet as he trudged down between the aisles.

Walking like this reminded Eddie of his first marriage. The one that had gone wrong. The one he was pushed into by his family because of his faith. He didn't want to get married at nineteen. He didn't think being married would make much of a difference between him and Shannon; they had been in love at the time and they were having a baby, marriage wasn't a necessity.

It was for the family, though. And when Eddie signed up for the army, being married seemed like the safer option. If he didn't come home, Shannon and the baby would be okay, and being married gave them both better benefits with the army.

His second marriage was the one Eddie was proud of and happy to remember because it was the marriage he actually wanted. The one that didn't happen in a church. The one with a close-knit gathering of just the main family and a few close friends and the girl who had stolen his heart, vowing never to give it back.

Eddie kept his eyes firmly on the floor when he reached the confessional.

He could feel his heart hammering against his chest, desperate to break out of his body and run away to safety. The panic started to overwhelm his system when he pointed his shaking hand at the confessional without looking at the priest. He didn't want to look.

He didn't want to see who he was going to be confessing to and he didn't want his confessor to see him either. He didn't want to be observed, only listened to and absolved.

The moment he sat down and pulled the curtain across, Eddie dug his short nails into his thighs through his trousers and tilted his head back until the back of his head hit the wood.

He let his eyes fall closed and took a very slow, deep breath. He could hear the old mantra in the back of his head. In, hold for three, out for three. Again. And again.

He could hear (Y/n)'s voice in his mind when he used to suffer panic attacks on a daily basis.

"It's okay, baby. Everything's okay, just breathe with me."

Sometimes, when he heard those words, Eddie could close his eyes and feel (Y/n)'s fingers tracing his face. He could feel her temple pressing against his and her words ghosting across his lips and he could feel her smiling against him. That was how he got through the panic attacks; he either envisioned his wife sat on his lap, cradling his face in her hands. Or he actually had her sat next to him, coaching him through it.

She was a great coping mechanism.

He took another deep breath before he tilted his head to the left and dared to look through the wooden slats that separated him from the priest on the other side. He knew the priest had sat down because he heard the other curtain pull across.

At least they were the only ones in the church. Eddie wouldn't have to hang his head and avoid looking at anyone else when he left and he didn't need to worry about anyone hearing what he was going to talk about today.

What was he supposed to say?

Was Eddie supposed to speak first or did he wait for the priest to tell him how this worked and ask what he was here to confess?

It had been over a decade, almost two, since Eddie had been in this position and it was making him regret turning up at all. Maybe he should have gone straight home. He wasn't even sure why he detoured here on his way home from work.

"What's your name? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but it might help you relax."

Was he that easy to read, even through the pannels? Did he look that nervous?

"Eddie. It's uh, it's been a while, since my last confession. I haven't done this since school. I haven't been to church since we moved to LA."

Eddie only used to go to church when his mother insisted. His parents went almost every Sunday when his father wasn't away working, and he knew his sister's went to church at least once a month. He may have been raised Catholic, but Eddie didn't instill those beliefs into Chris and he didn't want to follow such a devout life.

He had his faith, he kept his beliefs to himself and he prayed when he had to. His faith never wavered, even if he didn't think or speak to God very much these days.

"That's okay. What do you want to confess?" It didn't feel okay, but Eddie was glad he wasn't being judged.

What did he want to confess? Why was he really here? What had drawn him to this church when he was passing? What caused that instinctive decision to turn right and pull up rather than carry on straight and go home?

"I don't- I don't have to reel off every sin, right?" He almost quirked a smile and when he glanced to the left, he saw the priest dip his head forward and he could just imagine the Holy man smiling.

He must get asked that a lot. There would be some people, like Eddie, who weren't sure they would get resolution if they didn't atone for every sin they had committed since their last confession. But surely Eddie couldn't be asked to recount each and every sin because some were little, and admittedly some were large. He did have the time, the energy or even the memory to recount every time he had sinned over the last fifteen years or so.

"Maybe just the main ones. There must be a reason you decided to come here today."

"Yeah…" There was a reason. Deep down, Eddie knew what had been playing on his mind long enough to make him come here.

His hands switched to clasp together on his lap until his fingers were imbedding in the back of his hands between his tense knuckles that were starting to turn white. He pressed his hands down into his thighs and tilted his head down until the back of his neck ached and his shoulders arched up to try and relieve the tension.

With a deep breath, Eddie tilted his head back up again but he couldn't find the will to open his eyes. He kept them tightly closed as the thought of his parents crossed his mind like a vision from God, telling him the real reason he was here.

"My folks called, they want me to visit." He heard how pathetic his voice sounded and he hated the words as they passed through his lips.

They sounded so ordinary, so normal and usual as if Eddie was talking to one of the guys down at the station in passing. Rather than sitting here in a confessional, opening up old wounds for God to see and resolve him of the sins he was harbouring.

"And you don't want to?" There was an air of caution in the priest's voice because he could tell he was missing something here.

Eddie wished he could open his mind. He wished he could transfer his thoughts, feelings and memories into the mind of the man on the other side of the wooden pannel. He wished he could show him what was wrong instead of having to explain. Eddie was never good at explaining, he could never find the right words or the right way to explain without making a mess of things.

He was surprised he even managed to ask (Y/n) to marry him without blundering it all up. But then again, he hadn't made a huge gesture out of it. He'd had the ring for a few weeks and when he looked at her one night and couldn't think of his life without her, he asked her outright to marry him before giving her a million reasons why he loved her afterwards.

"They're the reason I moved here." A sarcastic, croaky laugh followed Eddie's words as he finally released his hands from his death grip on his lap and tipped his head back again.

"And… you feel guilty, about distancing from them?"

"I guess,"

Maybe it was guilt that drove him here. Maybe that was why Eddie was sitting here asking for resolution. But he knew this wasn't going right. He was talking like he wanted the priest to know the answers without knowing the situation or the problem. He was trying to let the priest lead this conversation but it wasn't working. Eddie had to open up, it had to go both ways.

"Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you, it can't be for deciding to move away. People grow, people move, that's not a sin."

He could see the priest looking- or at least trying to look at him through the wooden pannels and it made him shiver. He didn't like to be observed. He didn't like opening up like this. Eddie was used to bottling things up, that was the example he was led by with his parents and the way he always dealt with things since he was little.

It was hard to rid a lifetime of practice like that and install a new technique to open up and make himself feel better.

Eddie knew moving away wasn't a sin and he knew it wasn't the reason he was here, at least, not the main reason. But it had something to do with the guilt he was feeling. Moving his family down to LA had been a big step and it had been the best decision he'd made, but it didn't let Eddie run away from his fears and his memories.

"I feel guilty for not trusting them around my family." The guttural, choked sound Eddie let out sounded like he had just swallowed poison when the words were finally off his tongue.

The guilt was weighing heavy on his heart. It was the reason he could never find the will to talk to his parents for more than a few minutes at a time. It was why he avoided their calls and tried not to talk to (Y/n) about his folks either. It was why whenever the kids wanted to talk to them, Chris would simply call his grandparents rather than ask Eddie. Chris knew his dad wouldn't speak to them, even if he didn't know why.

Eddie loved them. He loved his parents, but things were strained between them and Eddie couldn't get over how he felt and how guilty he was for distancing them from his family. It was like he had two separate families to live with. He had his home family, his wife and kids, and then he had his external family, his parents and sisters.

His abuela and aunts mingled somewhere in between those two groups because they weren't the ones he had problems with.

"Why don't you trust them?" The priest rolled his lips together and clasped his hands together while his head inclined in Eddie's direction like he was trying to make sure he didn't miss a word.

Why didn't he trust them?

That question was enough to have shivers crawling down Eddie's spine and he looked up at the roof of the confessional like he was waiting for God to leer over him and tell him how stupid and selfish he was being.

He could feel sweat glistening on his skin and trickling down his neck as he grated his nails over his knees.

All he could see was (Y/n).

Her image flashed before his eyes and when Eddie snapped his eyes closed, he could feel water splashing across his skin. Luke warm droplets of water trickling down his face. Tidal waves splashing up his arms, soaking into his shirt and drenching his thighs.

He could feel (Y/n) in his arms. He could feel his throat rubbing raw and he could remember the screams he had let out that made his jaw ache and almost made him lose his voice.

Eddie didn't realise he was crying until he felt a single tear jump from his chin and land on the back of his hand. He quickly swiped his hand beneath his eyes and took a deep, gasping breath to wake himself up. He wasn't back in that memory any more. He was here. He was in church, somewhere he never thought he would find himself again. He was okay and (Y/n) was safe at home with the kids.

Everyone was safe.

"There was an incident. I'd- I'd been out at work, and when I came home, my wife was- she was passed out and they… they weren't helping her."

His hands ran up and down his face and he clicked his jaw into place while he took a few deep breaths to try and settle his system once again. He shook his head, but he could still see that memory flashing before his eyes and it made him want to scream. If he were in here alone, maybe he would of. He might of screamed until his lungs deflated and he passed out. Because that was how he felt when he thought back to what had happened.

"She's epileptic, my folks knew that, and I told them. I told them what to do if something happens, how to help her, what she needs, everything. They've seen it before, seen me help her. But they… they put her in danger. If I didn't get there, she could of- I could have lost her."

Shuddering breaths left Eddie's lips but he managed to reel them back in and get back to a normal breathing pace. He didn't want to be having a panic attack here, in church, in front of a priest. That would be one of his regrettable nightmares.

"I see. And you don't think you can rely on your parents anymore?" His words were careful and calculated, he didn't want to upset Eddie or get this situation the wrong way round.

"Our daughter's epileptic too. My job's hard, we need people around us, but I don't think I could risk my folks trying to help like that again."

(Y/n), Chris and Bella were Eddie's world.

They meant everything to him, always had, always would, and he and (Y/n) were trying for another baby.

Having a family to look after was stressful, Eddie's job was hectic and they needed people around them who could help. People who could help with the kids and who could be there for (Y/n) if she wasn't well or if she was having a bad day with seizure flare-ups.

Both Eddie's girls were epileptic and Chris had CP, and if he couldn't rely on his parents to help look after them properly then he couldn't be around them. How could they stay in Texas after what happened? How could Eddie ever ask his parents to watch the kids?

If Bella had a seizure while staying with his parents, they might not help her properly, the same as they hadn't helped (Y/n). Eddie couldn't risk Bella's health, her safety, maybe even her life, if he couldn't trust his parents. He couldn't allow them to look after the kids and he couldn't have them around to help (Y/n) if they weren't going to take things seriously or listen to them.

Eddie would never stop his folks from seeing the kids and he didn't want to cut them out of his life, that wasn't his intention or what he was doing. But he had to have some distance from them, it was the best thing he could do to look after his family.

"What does your wife think about all of this?"

Eddie's lack of response made the priest suck in a deep breath and he couldn't help but look through the pannels to see what Eddie was doing.

He looked in distress. Both hands back to clasping together, his elbows on his knees and his knuckles pressed deeply into his lips like he was trying to silence himself and stop from saying something he shouldn't.

"She doesn't agree with you?"

"She doesn't know."

Eddie could feel another tidal wave of tears welling up in front of his eyes, blurring his slighted vision of the tiny darkened confession cubicle he was sat in. The lack of lighting in here made Eddie feel like he was in some kind of warped dream or like he was on his descent down to Hell. It didn't do his anxiety any good.

"I don't follow."

Eddie knew his words wouldn't make sense, he knew he wouldn't be able to explain, but he had to talk to someone. He had to get some clarity and resolution and have someone put him on the right path so he knew what to do next.

"The seizure was bad, she woke up in hospital with no idea what happened. She thinks it was a bad seizure, a-and when I said about moving, I didn't mention this was another reason."

Did that make him a bad husband?

Eddie had been torn. He didn't know what to do.

When (Y/n) woke up in hospital, it was much the same as her other bad seizures. She couldn't remember most of the night, she didn't know the circumstances around her seizure or the aftermath. She remembered feeling sick and then waking up with a blank space of almost twelve hours erased from her mind.

Eddie thought he was doing the right thing. He thought telling (Y/n) it had been a bad seizure- which was the truth- was better than saying his parents hadn't looked after her properly like Eddie asked them to. Like they should of. He thought it was better than having (Y/n) be upset or distrusting towards his parents. And he thought it would be easier on his parents.

When they talked about moving, they had reasons. A fresh start, get away from Texas and everything there, family, old memories, old jobs they didn't like. They knew people in LA, there was a good job going for Eddie down here and he'd already done all his training for the LAFD, he only needed to do a prohbation period and then he was fully classed as a fireman. And (Y/n) had a good opportunity down here at Dispatch.

When Eddie told his parents they were moving, they hadn't been happy, they wanted their grandkids and their son close by. But they didn't argue, they knew they couldn't change Eddie's mind. And they knew he didn't trust them anymore, even if his love for them didn't change.

"Then maybe this is a conversation you should be having with her. You might be protecting her, but you could make the situation worse. She's bound to talk to your parents at some point and you're putting yourself in an impossible position between your family. I think you're being weighed down by the truth, it's making you think you're guilty of something you're not."

"Maybe."

"I don't think you need much resolution here, the only sin in that situation is taking all this responsibility on your own."

Eddie didn't know how or why, but those words lifted something from his shoulders at the same time that they sent his heart dropping down to the pit of his stomach.

That was what he wanted to hear. He needed to be reassured that he wasn't a horrible person, that he hadn't committed some increadible sin that he needed resolution from. He was justified in some aspects and that was all he had to hear.

But he had also heard something he was afraid of. That he needed to talk to (Y/n). He had to explain what was weighing heavy on his mind and how it was affecting him. He had to tell her what happened and see what she thought about things and what she wanted to do regarding his parents and moving forward.

But Eddie didn't want to explain. He didn't want to tell (Y/n) about that night.

How could he talk to her about it when that memory plagued his mind and fuelled most of his nightmares?

***

[1 Year Ago]

Moving his hand to cup his forehead, Eddie scratched his nails into his scalp as he closed the front door behind him.

It felt strange to be walking into his parent's home like this, as if he had reverted back to that seventeen year old kid who went out to work in the morning and went out with his friends on an evening- if he wasn't conscripted to babysitting his sisters. He felt like that teenager who had finished a double shift and who was crawling through the door, trying to wake himself up enough to make his way to bed.

The only reason Eddie was coming to his parent's home rather than his actual home was because he knew his family were here.

He had dropped (Y/n), Chris and Bella off here this morning on his way to work and he had talked to his mum before he left.

He kicked off his boots by the door, remembering his mother's rules and traditions that shoes were always left at the door. Something Eddie often did back home because of how instilled those rules were into him.

The tiredness within him started to wash away the moment he headed through into his parent's living room and caught sight of his boy.

Leaning over the back of the sofa, Eddie gently cupped Chris's chin and tilted his head back so he could press a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

"Hey buddy, you had a good day?"

"Yeah, we watch a movie now?"

Eddie danced his eyes up and down Chris's frame and around the sofa. The eight year old was curled up in the centre of the sofa, already in his pyjamas and he had a fluffy blanket strewn across his lap. Eddie hadn't been sure if they would be spending the night with his parents but if Chris was already settled for the evening, he figured they were clearly spending the night here. That was good, Eddie wasn't sure he could find the will to drive back home, even though home was only ten minutes away.

"Give me five minutes and we will." He promised with another kiss against Chris's cheek before he looked around.

He slowly reeled up from the sofa and trudged towards the kitchen to find the rest of the family.

(Y/n) hadn't been well yesterday and most of the night last night she hadn't slept properly. At one point Eddie had spent a good hour cradling her in his arms as she cried because she could feel a seizure oncoming but it took its time.

It didn't seem like a good idea for (Y/n) to stay home today with the kids on her own. Eddie's parents had helped Shannon look after Chris while Eddie had been in the army and after the divorce, they had been there for him and Chris. They had been very welcoming to (Y/n) when she and Eddie got together and now they had Bella, they were one big unit.

His parents never minded helping with the kids and when Eddie rang them this morning and asked if they could help with the kids and keep an eye on (Y/n), they instantly agreed.

A light sparkled in Eddie's eyes when he walked into the kitchen and saw his mum. She was stood at the fridge, a beaker of juice in one hand and Bella in the other. The toddler was sat on her hip with her head on Helena's shoulder and a pacifier in her mouth. It was her bedtime now.

But when the two year old tiredly looked towards the doorway, her lips curved into a grin and she stretched her arms out in Eddie's direction.

"Daddy!" She squealed tiredly around the pacifier between her lips and started to wriggle until he headed over towards them.

"There's my baby." He cooed and carefully took Bella from his mother's arms once she turned in his direction. He lifted her up high before settling his girl down on his chest and pressing a few dozen kisses to her cheek to make her giggle.

Her hands patted his face and she nudged their noses together before she laid her head right against his neck beneath his chin. Her arms cuddled up in between them and she settled comfortably in Eddie's arms, tilted on his chest so she could doze off to sleep if she wanted.

"How's everyone been?" Eddie kept his left arm beneath Bella to hold her up while his rhythmically rubbed his right hand up and down her back and he found himself swaying from left to right to settle her.

His lips formed into a gentle smile when his mum leaned up to kiss his cheek while she set the beaker in her hand down and started tidying up the kitchen while they talked.

"These two have been fine. (Y/n) had a few of those little seizures today though," Helena waved her hand near her temple as if that would help explain what she was talking about, but she knew Eddie would understand.

"Absent ones?" He muttered while he looked down at the little girl in his arms and started to kiss the top of her head.

He could feel Bella's breaths fanning against his chest through his shirt and he could tell she was already halfway to sleep. It was a good thing they would be staying here tonight or she would be unsettled being moved to the car and then back home again.

At least absent seizures were better that full on clonic ones where (Y/n) would tense and spasm and thrash around. And those kinds were easier for his parents to help with. They weren't used to seeing people suffer with epilepsy until (Y/n) came into the family and now Bella had just been diagnosed too.

"Hm, she was drained and looked groggy, so she's gone for a bath." His mum waved her hand up near the ceiling to signal upstairs at the bathroom before she turned around and started cleaning the counters.

But her words made Eddie's eyes narrow and his lips fell into a frown against the top of Bella's head.

"What?"

What was his mum talking about? Why had (Y/n) gone for a bath? Did that mean she had just come out the bathroom or was she still in there?

"She's in the bath, honey." The way his mum cast her head over her shoulder and raised her brows at him made Eddie feel like a teenager just being told some kind of obvious answer. But her words did nothing to calm him down, if anything, they ignited the fire that was starting to rage in his system.

"Who's with her?" Eddie couldn't help the sense of urgency in his voice as his arms tightened around his daughter like she was a comfort teddy in his arms.

"Hm? Eddie she's not a child, she doesn't need supervision."

Helena looked perplexed and she tutted at the end of her sentence with a strange smile on her lips. She shook her head at him before she looked back down to the task she was completing, but she barely managed to swipe the cloth along the counter before Eddie suddenly gripped her arm. He tugged until she had no choice but to turn and face him and his grip tightened to keep her attention on him.

"Ma I told you she's been seizing all day- if she seizes in the bath she could drown. You know someone has to stay with her."

Eddie knew his wife wasn't a child and he would never treat or talk about her as if she were. But he was protective. (Y/n) was epileptic and on a bad day like his when she was having multiple seizures, she had to have someone with her to make sure she was okay.

(Y/n) never took a bath unless someone was in the room with her. Whenever she wanted a bath she would sheepishly ask Eddie if he could sit in the bathroom with her. And nine times out of ten, she ended up pulling Eddie into the bath to lay with her.

It was too risky to get a bath alone, especially if she was suffering bad seizures during the day because if she had a seizure in the bath she could slip under the water and drown. It was why (Y/n) stuck to taking showers because at least if she had a seizure during a shower, she could hurt herself but she wouldn't choke or drown.

"Oh Eddie calm down. She was very tired but she was fine, I helped her get into the bath and the tremors seemed to stop, she was quiet and content so I left her to it."

Eddie's heart plummeted down to his chest as if the organ had been disconnected and felt like a stone dropping into his intestines.

"She was- oh Jesus!"

A disgruntled sound left Bella's lips when she was suddenly jostled from her father's arms and thrust back into her grandma's hold. She whimpered and reached out for Eddie but it was too late, he was already skidding out the kitchen and running for the stairs in the hall.

No, no no. Please don't be happening now!

If (Y/n) was quiet and still trembling when his mum got her into the bath, that meant (Y/n) could possibly have still been enduring a seizure.

Eddie knew his wife. He knew she would protest if she was left in the bath on her own, she was petrified of having a seizure and not having anyone with her when it happened. If she was unusually quiet and trembling Eddie would guess she had been slipping back into an absent seizure and with all the seizing activity today, (Y/n) was liable to go into a tonic clonic seizure at any point.

His feet smacked harshly against the stairs as he thundered up two at a time, grabbing the bannister to propel himself faster until he was at the top.

He spun to the right, almost crashing into his dad at the top of the stairs but he paid him no mind.

Eddie prayed. He prayed he was wrong and he was panicking for nothing. He begged and pleaded to be overreacting and to crash into the bathroom and find (Y/n) laid there, relaxed and calm as ever. Or to walk in on her getting changed and have her flash him that cheeky, flirtatious smile and ask him what he was so eager for.

"Eddie-"

But the moment he flung open the bathroom door and peered inside, he couldn't feel his heart anymore. It felt like someone had thrust their hand inside his ribcage and physically tore out the organ that no longer seemed to be pulsing and beating within his chest.

"Dios- shit- somebody call an ambulance!"

He hurtled into the bathroom, his knees crashing down on the tiled floor with such a thud that it felt like he'd dislocated both his knees.

Without a second thought, Eddie slammed forward until his abdomen was splitting apart with the edge of the bath imbedding into his waist and he surged both arms into the bath.

He could feel the lukewarm water sloshing around and gulping up to his elbows as he joined in the tidal waves that were splashing up either side of the bath. Water was already coating every square inch of the rim around the bath and large puddles were splotched onto the floor around him.

She was seizing.

(Y/n)'s head was periodically slamming back into the bottom of the bath so much that Eddie was surprised there wasn't a dent or even a crack in the tub. But each horrid thrash of her head was dulled down by the water slowing her movements. Her arms were pinned against her chest like she was trying to cover her modesty, but her hands were bent at odd angles and her fingers were curled in odd positions like she was playing an invisible piano.

Her elbows were jabbing at the sides of the bath and causing great waves to splash about her body and her feet were crammed at the other end of the bath while both legs were jerking up and down like she was trying to back stroke in the bath.

Eddie wasted no time in sliding his hands beneath (Y/n)'s jerking body and he reeled her up until she was thrashing in the air, her back barely touching the surface of the water to keep her fully afloat.

He could see tiny marks in the back of the bath where (Y/n)'s head had clearly slammed into the bath before she went under the water.

But he had no idea how long she had been under the water or how much water she had inhaled and had been choking for. It could have been seconds, it could have been a minute.

"Fuck! Fuck!" He didn't care how loudly his voice resonated around the walls as he all but screamed.

Why had nobody listened to him? He told his parents about (Y/n)'s condition, they had known about it for years, since they met her. He told them how to look after her if she ever stayed with them like she had today. He showed them what to do if she seized and started throwing up or choking. He showed them the best positions to lay her in and how to administer emergency medication if needed.

He told them what not to do, don't let her to go sleep after a bad seizure, call an ambulance if she had continuous seizures or started biting her tongue or if she'd injured herself. And he strictly told his mum to stay with her if she was having a bad day and wanted a shower or a bath.

His mum made it sound like she had gotten (Y/n) into the bath and then left her. Did (Y/n) even want a bath? Had she even been lucid, or had his mum decided this would calm her down and helped her strip and then left her to it? Why hadn't she listened to him? Why didn't she check back in and make sure (Y/n) was okay?

"Okay baby, okay, come here. I've got you." Words tumbled past Eddie's lips as he held (Y/n) in his left arm and used his right hand to reach out and pull the plug. He heard the drain gurgling as it drank up the water.

His right arm then slid beneath (Y/n)'s thrashing legs and Eddie did his best to stop the adrenaline from making him tremble all over. He pushed up from his knees so he was crouching beside the bath and tried to be as careful as possible when he lifted (Y/n) from the bath.

He cringed at how her head bent around his arm and pushed her neck out and the strangled noises she made were breaking his soul.

Once she was in his arms, Eddie backed up and went back down to his knees so he could lower (Y/n) down onto the bath mat.

As soon as she was laid out, Eddie got to work. He rolled (Y/n) onto her left side so she was facing the bath and he was knelt behind her. His hands moved to her throat and he leaned over her with his ear as close to her mouth as he could without (Y/n) head-butting him.

She wasn't breathing properly.

She was gasping and spluttering. Her head was still jerking back and forth but water was steadily pouring from her lips. Eddie pulled back and started to pat the heel of his hand between her shoulder blades while his other hand gripped her chin and he tried to pull her head down so she could cough up the water she had inhaled.

It seemed to work. A great surge of water left her lips and spluttered onto the bath mat and her chest seemed to stop convulsing as much as the rest of her body.

"Good girl, breathe for me." Eddie's voice shook as he switched to rubbing his hand all along her back to try and keep her lungs stimulated and open so she would take in proper breaths.

He reached out and yanked a towel from the rail and draped it across (Y/n)'s waist, keeping it loose so it wouldn't tangle or consctrict her while she continued to thrash around.

"Eddie?!"

His head snapped to look over his right shoulder and daggers shot from his eyes when he looked at his parents. His mum was stood in the doorway, Bella in her arms who was thankfully looking the other way over Helena's shoulder. And his dad was stood beside her, trying to crane his head around the door to see what exactly was happening and why he was on the phone to 911. He was asking for an ambulance but he had no idea why.

"She was under the water!" Anger flooded Eddie's gritty voice that was an octave lower than usual.

This was why he was protective. This was why he asked his parents to help (Y/n) today. This was exactly what he feared happening to (Y/n) when she was alone, but not when his family were here to help her.

How was he supposed to trust them when they had let his wife drown? When they had completely ignored his advice and (Y/n)'s state and left her on her own when she was in a bad state.

What if this happened with Bella? What if Bella was playing outside or she was having a bath and they took their eyes off her for a few minutes? Would they let her drown too? Would they take proper care of Bella, or would this happen to her as well?

If Eddie hadn't of come home when he did tonight, (Y/n) would of drowned. He dreaded to think how long it would of taken for someone to check on her and find out what was happening in here.

Terror flooded Eddie's veins as he turned his attention back to (Y/n) when her arm jerked out and slammed into the edge of the bath with a horrifying thud. He gently took her wrist and bent her arm back near her chest so she wasn't at risk of hitting anything else.

When he heard Bella whimper and fidget, he looked over his shoulder to his parents who were still in the doorway.

"Take her downstairs- papi tell them she was fucking seizing under water!" Eddie clicked his fingers and waved his hand towards his parents who were being more of a hindrance than a help tonight. He knew his father hadn't told them the situation and Eddie wanted an ambulance now, this was high priority.

If (Y/n) had been under water for long she could still have some water in her lungs and she could contract pneumonia from this. And all the seizure activity she had been having yesterday and today wasn't good, she needed to go to hospital and be observed and looked after.

He was glad when both parents retreated and he heard his mum hurrying downstairs, although he heard his father standing in the hallway, shakily reeling off the situation to the dispatcher on the phone.

A sigh tumbled past Eddie's lips and he leaned over when (Y/n)'s limbs slowly started to tremble rather than thrash around. She was reduced to shaking instead of violently throwing herself around and it made him feel like a weight had been lifted from his stomach.

His lips attached to the top of (Y/n)'s head and he began gliding his hand up and down her arm over the top of the towel while his other hand brushed her wet, tangled hair from her face and his knuckles glided across her cheek.

"Okay, mi amor. You're okay, it's gonna be just fine. Good girl, I've got you."

His lips stayed against her neck and he shuffled a bit closer when a tiny murmur left (Y/n)'s lips along with another splutter and a trickle of water. He carefully curved his arm around her waist and let her lean back on his lap, but Eddie felt like his heart was beating out of his chest and trying to transfer into (Y/n)'s chest instead.

This wasn't going to happen again. Eddie couldn't let his family stay with his parents like this if this was how they were going to be looked after.

He almost lost his wife.

Eddie wasn't losing (Y/n); not for anything in the world.

[rosewaterandivy]

vena amoris

Summary: some part of me must have died / the first time that you called me “Baby”

Pairing: s.h. x reader

W.C.: 2.5K

Themes: the usual— repressed feelings, smut mentions, Cabaret quotes, Steve ‘down bad’ Harrington™️

A/N: well ahoy there! Did I take a mental health day and brain rot this into being? You bet! Title is Latin for “the vein of love.”

“Oh god,” You’d remarked, with a knowing smirk and lifted brow. “Can you imagine?”

Your tone brokered no argument. It wasn’t a whimsical, starry-eyed, sigh filled statement coming from a naive girl.

No, instead it was a wry, flippant remark laden with sarcasm and pity as the woman by the college green gleefully sobbed out a yes, yes, of course! to a polite smattering of applause as her newly minted fiancé slipped a sparkling band onto her finger.

“And on graduation day, no less.” You bat away the few hairs that had flown into your face buoyed by the summer breeze, your graduation gown fluttering about your legs. “Damn my guy, let the woman have her moment jeez.”

Steve struggled to laugh and maintain composure, because the thing was, he actually could imagine it, and had even done so himself from time to time. The time honored predicament of “keeping it casual” while remaining friends.

He remembers it clear as day, how you’d met in front of the dining hall as he’d overslept (again) and rushed to shove his pockets full of cereal before his morning lecture so as to not fall asleep during Macroeconomics.

”Hey, Buck-o!” You’d crowed from the table riddled with pens, to-go coffee cups, and clipboards, “Are you registered to vote?”

All he can remember thinking, after the pre-requisite it’s too damn early for this was the ever eloquent, well, fuck me.

Nevermind that you were wearing a Reagan Ruined Everything shirt accompanied by the flaming visage of the man. Nevermind that your friend merely snorted at your bombastic accosting of students for the sake of democracy. Nevermind that several people had shoulder checked him in their rush to get waffles and coffee.

”Ritchie Rich,” You’d said with a smile, “Voting solely for your interests or ready to join the proletariat with the rest of us?”

It was an unlikely friendship, to say the least. You, a blue-blood former ballet dancer until “my tits grew in” majoring in poli-sci and him, the sole progeny of a captain of industry on the ivy-league to corporate office pipeline.

So, it really was inevitable that you’d fall into bed together. Even without your grandparents wheedling and match-making attempts. But still, you weren’t dating— he wasn’t that kind of guy and you weren’t even interested in a relationship anyway.

It was sex and friendship, that was all.

Argento movie marathons because it was “a crime you’ve never seen something outside of a cineplex, Harrington,” underneath mountains of a goose-down duvet. Trips to the Cape just to pass the time, M&M’s riddling the hardwood floors in front of a roaring fire with his head between your thighs. Dragging him out on cold autumn mornings to canvass for local elections. Late nights where you’d pass out in front of the flickering tv screen after watching Bitter Rice.

Sure, Robin side-eyed the entire situation and Dustin never failed to remind him how much of an idiot Steve was being. But, in fairness, it was never something that struck either of you as odd.

It was college, people do weirder and more detrimental shit all the time without the evergreen excuse of misguided youth. Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth?

Eddie was the one to ruin it all.

“Dude,” He’d said, surprisingly serious as he loaded up his bike for the drive back to New York. “Not for nothin, but if I were you Harrington,” He inclined his head toward where you were at the coffee cart. “I’d lock that shit down.”

”Whaddya mean? We’re just friends.”

“Sure buddy,” Eddie laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

But did he really think about it after that? Of course not, just continued to careen toward graduation and the inevitable.

He was destined for great things, according to his father: continuing the family legacy and filling the coffers, working abroad in Europe for year post-grad and securing those overseas accounts.

So when he wasn’t suffering through mind-numbing lectures, and being at dear old dad’s beck and call, Steve was doing what he did best: wilding with the gang or hanging out with you.

Which mostly resulted in fucking at increasingly creative locations at your place or his, but he digresses.

His graduation was uneventful— his father sternly nodded his approval while his mother posed them like dolls for a family photo. They’d drug him to a prolonged who’s who of his father’s connections under the guise of a celebration dinner, to which none of his friends had been invited.

Steve had schlepped himself back to the apartment, less drunk than he would’ve preferred given the circumstances. Only to be greeted by you at the door, in one of your more creative get-ups consisting of a 1920’s boudoir set with stockings.

Plum-painted lips split like a ripe fruit, white pearly teeth gleamed in the dim hallway light. And his heart nearly beat its way out of his chest.

“Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome,” You gently kick the door of his apartment the rest of the way open to reveal people packed to the brim inside— Robin, Dustin, Eddie.

“Fremde, étrange, stranger.”

Because of course you’d throw him a going away party, themed no less (“Cabaret only seemed appropriate since you’re Berlin-bound come morning,”). The drinks are flowing and the music is thumping and all he wants to do is kiss you, so he does.

And the world doesn’t cease to turn, the music doesn’t stop, his friends don’t give a damn. No one is shocked by this turn of events, not even the elusive ex of Stanford fame Nancy Wheeler.

Because if there’s one thing that everyone knows, well everyone excluding you because if you somehow caught on to him Steve might actually drop dead right then and there—

What everyone knew was this: Steve Harrington was not and had never been a casual guy.

He heard Eddie mumble something about Sisyphus into his drink before pulling him off of you. Your lipstick was smeared and a little patchy now, but he sure as shit didn’t care, his own mouth was probably branded now too, bruise-colored as if he’d bitten into an overripe stone fruit.

A big deal is made about getting the King a drink, as Eddie all but frog marches Steve to the bar.

“So,” He greets, clapping him on the back, “You’re down bad.”

Steve nearly chokes on the beer, the frothy foam ticking at his nose. He swallows past his heart lodged in his throat, and shakes his head.

“It’s nothing.”

“Tell that to your mouth, Liza,” He sweeps a thumb against Steve’s bottom lip, it comes back riddled in purple lipstick. “You know you leave tomorrow, right?”

Steve turns back to the bar and signals for a shot of something, anything really. He sips at his beer in the interim, letting Eddie’s declaration linger in the air between them.

They drink in silence until Robin stumbles in, dragging Steve away claiming “besties before the resties!”

He spies you and Dustin chatting nearby, you catch his eye with a lascivious and exaggerated wink before throwing your head back in laughter at something the dingus had said.

The party rages on for hours— he’s already packed and ready to go for his flight tomorrow, and he knows you’d put a lot of effort into this send off, but Steve would like nothing more than to wrap himself around you and fall into bed. Eventually someone catches onto this and alerts the guests that they “don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!”

Steve doesn’t know who to thank for that, Nancy maybe. He’ll figure it out later. At that moment, he was more concerned with getting those glasses out of your hands and that garter belt on the floor.

“Hey, you okay?” You’d asked in the early morning light, watching as he stumbled into his pants and threw on a shirt.

Your face was freshly scrubbed of your makeup from last night, soft and open as your eyes trailed him from your spot in his bed.

He was a weak, weak man when he’d sat down with a sigh and asked, “Tell me not to go?”

He can hear you shuffle across the bed, can feel the warmth of your body as it drapes against his back.

“Tell me not go to,” Steve continues, “Tell me to blow off my dad, the Harrington destiny, tell me to fuck it all and that I can figure something else out.”

You nose along the column of his throat, lips settling at the nape of his neck. His hand finds its way to yours, arms wrapped against his shoulders, fingers dancing along his collarbone. He links a solitary finger with yours crooking into each other like monkeys in a barrel.

“Oh babe,” You sigh, the pet name rolling prettily off your tongue, “You know I won’t do that, as much as I would delight in smearing the Harrington name.”

You grip him all the tighter.

“You have a plane to catch and a life to start. A life you were dragged kicking and screaming into but you know what?”

“What?”

“The only way out is through, Steve.” You rest your head on his shoulder, continuing, “The changes you want to make? Well, it’s your life so make them. Who’s going to stop you? You’re a blue-blood white man in a world built to serve people like you.”

“Are you going to lecture me about the patriarchy? Because it’s too early for that—"

“I’ll spare you, just this once.” You tease, “But no, I’m just saying that you have options and it’s a year away from your father. Take advantage of it.”

Steve knows you mean well, that you’re trying to put a positive spin on his departure but still, it hurts.

He stands back up with what he hopes is a believable smile on his face. He expects to see you settled back in the sheets when he turns around, not hopping on one leg as you attempt to jam your foot into your Vans with one hand, while clawing into a bra with the other. Somehow, you’re already in sweatpants.

He can barely restrain his laugh, “What’re you doing?”

“Uh, accompanying you to the airport, duh.”

And if his heart wasn’t already broken, surely this would’ve been the nail in the coffin.

“No, don’t get up.”

“Too late for that.”

“My bags are already in the car,” He tries again, trailing after you from the bedroom to the kitchen.

“Great! Do we have time for coffee?”

“No, seriously,” Steve catches your hand before it can land on the doorknob, tugging you back from the door.

“But,” Your voice has lost its joking tone and you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. “I have to say goodbye. I have to wave at you from the gate.”

“They won’t let you past security.”

“Then I’ll wave from there,” You say with a sniff, blinking the tears from your eyes. “I have to go, please.”

Steve, in that moment, chooses to glance up at the rafters of his loft apartment in an effort to keep his emotions in check. So he misses how greedily your eyes take him in, as if it’s for the last time, how you’re biting your lip so hard as to draw blood.

And by the time he looks back down again, you’ve found a spot on the floor to stare steadily at.

“Hey,” He says, curling a finger under your chin prompting you to glance up. Steve gives you a watery smile at best before imploring, “I need you to listen to me, please.”

He waits for your nod of assent before continuing.

“Everything is all set— I’ve paid the rent on the apartment for the next year, so you don’t have to worry about that. I know you won’t use the car service, but there’s a few more weeks left on that too, so.”

Your face falls with the finality of it all. That Steve is actually leaving, that he’ll be in Europe for the next year “growing up” as his father intended. And that maybe you should’ve done more to help him want to stay.

“There’s a ticket for you on the counter for after midterms, I’ll meet you in London and we can do whatever you want, just like we agreed.”

You nod quickly and take a short breath. He kisses you on the forehead and promises to call once he lands.

As his hand twists open the door, you blurt out:

“Please don’t do this. Let me come with you to the airport. You’re going to be gone for so long and—"

“Baby.”

And you know he’s serious because that diminutive is solely reserved for when you’re at least two orgasms deep and he’s got your knees up by your ears. Sweat-slick and ruddy-mouthed, your whole world narrowed to focus on him, desperate longing veiled by throes of passion.

Steve doesn’t even turn back, and you can hear how his voice shakes. “If you go with me, I won’t get on the plane.”

Your arm drops from where you’d reached after him, hadn’t even registered the action as you did it.

In a small, guilty voice you say, “I know.”

The muscles of his back feather as he sighs, his grip on the doorknob knuckle-white. He knows you can’t really mean it, that it’s the scared, vulnerable part of you stumbling as you offer him an olive branch; a way out.

In the end, he got on the plane anyway.

Smash-cut to a year later, the same college green but this time it’s not him in the graduation cap and gown. Steve took the week off for your graduation festivities, flew back into Logan then rented a car for the drive to Cambridge. Made nice with your parents and grandparents, shook your grandfather’s hand politely when he’d said that Steve was a “fine boy from a fine family,” and tried in vain to forget the fact that this is the same man who’d learned his granddaughter was sexually active with him, mind you, in front of no less than a missionary, a minister, and a rabbi.

But all of that is neither here nor there, as you clap politely for the newly engaged couple, pinning your mortarboard beneath your elbow. And because he knows you, Steve catches your eye roll sequence, surely at the audacity of That Man who proposed on his girlfriend's graduation day, from Harvard no less.

He snatches the satin covered cardboard from you, and throws an arm around your shoulders walking you toward the rager of a graduation party Eddie was throwing at your apartment.

“I know,” He says conspiratorially, relishing as you lean into him. “God forbid a woman do anything.”

Your laugh is a good distraction for him, something loud and joyful to focus on as the ring box in his left pocket sinks like a stone.

[buckleybltch]

Why Tommy is Different to Buck’s Previous Love Interests

and Why it Doesn’t Make Sense.

This is going to be a long and (primarily) impartial post intended for all audiences, whether you like Tommy or not. However, this is not the blog to be airing grievances on. I’m not here for that. I am going to put some opinions of mine through here, but that’s all they are, and I’m going to try stick with facts with a side of interpretation. And Please, for the love of God, read till the end before commenting.

If you want to think I’m nitpicking then go ahead, but every scene of this show gets analysed to death and back for varying reasons. This will be no different.

The Hospital Scene

For the first time, we see one of Buck’s love interests sitting with the 118 at the hospital while they wait to make sure one of their own is okay. In regard to the group chat that appeared on that scene, form your own opinions. We don’t know if Karen or Maddie is in this group chat either. Opinion: I personally don’t think it’s that unusual to have a work group chat, and I also think Bobby showed Athena his phone. I don’t believe that was meant to reinforce the idea that Tommy is an ‘outsider’- if he was an outsider, he wouldn’t have been at the hospital altogether.

Never before has a LI shown up for the 118 at the hospital with Buck. Ali and Abby turned up at the hospital for Buck because it’s him who was hurt, and Taylor was at the hospital with her camera man for the story (s5 May Day). When Eddie got shot, Taylor showed up at the hospital because she thought it was Buck who got shot. Tommy showing up is a unique situation- they were sat in their civvies as a group in the waiting room, and Tommy is there with Buck for Denny. Tommy was part of the 118 waiting room crew; we’ve never seen this before; Buck’s partner showing up for his team(family) at the hospital.

The closest we’ve had before is Abby showing up to Chimney’s return to work party, but at this point they weren’t actually together, and obviously Chimney was okay by this point, it’s not a hospital scene.

The Firefighter Life

When Ali breaks up with Buck, she says it’s because she can’t handle the firefighter life, waiting for him to get hurt. She says it’s not what she wants. This issue isn’t present with Tommy because he is also a firefighter. He knows what he signed up for with Buck, he’s perfectly and intimately familiar with the risks they take everyday and the risk of getting hurt. While it’s a perfectly reasonable assumption that this might still be an issue to some degree, no one wants to see their boyfriend getting hurt after all, they both understand the life and what it means. Tommy solves the reason Ali broke up with him.

The Bobby Approval

This one is a key one. When the scene first aired, I strongly believed (and still do) that this line was also intended for the audience. We have Bobby’s explicit approval of Tommy as a person and for Buck. He’s good people, he’s good for you.

Bobby and Buck never spoke about Natalia or about Ali. I hold the belief, like many, that Bobby never particularly liked Taylor because of how she tried to exploit Bobby in season 2. However, Bobby did help Buck decide on a Christmas gift for Taylor and vice versa. Yet, he never said on screen that he thought they were good together. Hen and Chimney do also come to Taylor for help (s5) with Jonah, but even in that scene they’re shown to not trust her with what they’re telling her.

Abby is more complex as she was a main character in season 1 and her relationship with Buck was a full-season arc. Bobby helped Buck tie his tie and gave him genuinely good advice before their date. Bobby even talks to Buck about having a serious relationship and how to handle it, about how to treat her with respect. Other characters definitely aired their reservations about Abby in season 2 (Is it the age difference? More like the time difference). I believe Bobby gave his implicit, but not explicitly said, approval of Abby through the way he treated and spoke to Buck about their relationship. Despite this, I do think it’s poignant that for the seven years after Buck and Abby broke up, we never saw Bobby approve or like another one of his relationships until Tommy.

The Future Talk

In 8x06, Josh straight up asks Buck if he can see a future with Tommy. This of course follows up Josh already asking “do you care about him, do you think about him when’s not around”. The discussion between Josh and Buck is unique, because Buck has never spoken to a friend about this before. His relationships with Ali and Natalia weren’t developed or long enough to warrant the discussion, he never talked about the future with Abby, and he said “no” at the prospect of proposing to Taylor. For the first time, Buck is asked on-screen if he sees a future with his romantic partner, and Buck says yes. This is explicitly said for the first time. Yes, he made a confused face when Josh asked if he loved him, because clearly Buck hasn’t given it that much thought until he’s confronted with it. Either way, Buck, for the first time, says he wants a future with his romantic partner.

This further prompts Buck to ask Tommy to move in with him, which, different to his motivation for asking Taylor to move in with him, is fuelled by wanting a future. Buck even brings up marriage in his discussion with Tommy, which he’s also never discussed with a romantic partner on screen before. The content of both discussions is something we haven’t seen Buck talk about or admit before.

Eddie Friendship

All of Buck’s love interests, bar Abby, have screen time with Eddie. However, Ali and Natalia only share screen time with Eddie when they first meet because they meet on a call. As Buck’s girlfriends, they don’t share screen time with Eddie.

Taylor once has dinner with Buck, Eddie, and Christopher, and she compliments Eddie’s cooking. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe this is the only main time they’re seen together. It’s civil, it’s fine. However, they aren’t friends.

Tommy is a unique situation again; because he’s a guy, it might be easier for Eddie to form a friendship with him. They’re very fast friends, they do Muay Thai together, Tommy works on Eddie’s car, they play basketball together, Tommy went to Eddie’s house 3 times in two weeks and met Christopher. Christopher likes Tommy, he thinks he’s cool, and Eddie invited Tommy to Chris’ virtual birthday party. He’s the first love interest to not only get along with Eddie, but become friends with him outside of Buck (emphasised by 7x04 where Tommy tells Buck that his friendship with Eddie has nothing to do with Buck). The show makes their friendship very clear.

I’ll fully admit that Eddie’s friendship with Tommy was needed for the plot in 7x04, but beyond that, why was it relevant? It already made Buck realise he wanted to be with Tommy. They might’ve needed it for a plot reason but they’re friends afterwards too. Maddie calls Tommy “Eddie’s friend” in 7x05 and they’re laughing together in the hospital and getting alone fine in 8x05. Why?

Fitting Into Buck’s Life

Of course, this all culminates by saying Tommy fits into Buck’s life extremely well.

Tommy doesn’t have to go through the awkward phase of meeting all of Buck’s friends, because the only one he hasn’t met is Eddie. Tommy was previously friends with Bobby, Hen, and Chimney, they already know him. He’s already met Athena. Sure, they might have some catching up to do, but they already have a good history. They’re familiar. Again, Tommy already gets along with Buck’s friends outside of Buck.

Why was Tommy at the hospital for Hen’s son if he wasn’t integrated? Why feel comfortable going to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding? Even Buck makes the point of saying that Tommy is already going to know everybody there; he’s not just his date, he already knows them.

Tommy is friends with Buck’s friends already, Tommy understands the demands of being a firefighter and what it entails with the risks and the commitment. Tommy understands Buck’s friendship with Eddie and Christopher, and his dynamic with Bobby.

Intention (Conclusion)

This is all to say- this is intentional. If the point of the relationship was always to breakup, why have Tommy included in these scenes? Tommy didn’t need to be there at the hospital for Denny, but they wrote it in for him to join the 118 waiting. Bobby didn’t need to give his approval of Tommy on screen. It didn’t further his relationship with Buck nor the plot. It was written this way for a reason, and I think anyone can admit the actual breakup in the scene was abrupt, and it’s all of the above context that makes it even more abrupt.

I know it makes his relationship with Buck more meaningful, sweeter, more heartbreaking for Buck, but we never saw these moments with his ex girlfriends, particularly Taylor, and their relationship was solid until it wasn’t. If this unique treatment of Tommy was meant to put Buck through heartbreak then I offer a second question: what is coming up for Buck that requires him to go through heartbreak?

Why go through the effort of writing Tommy to fit in so well with Buck’s life if he’s only there to further a plot? None of Buck’s other LIs were treated like that, and they achieved the plot they needed to. So why was this different? Buck’s relationship with Taylor was a lot longer, and they lived together, but we never saw these types of scenes with her. Why? Why was this different? What was the point of making the relationship meaningful and different?

Again, this post is not here for people to argue. It should be clear to everyone, regardless of why you think so, that Tommy was treated different by the show than Buck’s other love interests. There must have been a reason, even if that wasn’t clear. Is something big coming up for Buck that he needed to be heartbroken for? Is it poor writing? Is Tommy coming back? There must be some reason that Tommy was treated differently by the writers other than “just because”.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | epilogue

[chap seventeen] | [all chapters here]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes

a/n: Well, we've finally made it, everyone, and I'm feeling emotional about it. This epilogue is just a lil something I thought up while I was considering what the future would hold for Eddie and ice princess, and I love it dearly.

wc: 3.2k

Epilogue

September 1985

I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, L.A.… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.” “Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to L.A. together after graduation, huh?” “Oh, I’m sure.”

September 1987

Eddie should’ve been home by now. You’d memorized his work schedule within his first week of starting at VIP Records, so you knew his shift always ended at 6pm on Tuesdays - so where the hell was he? It was nearly 8:30, and you’d been getting more and more antsy as the minutes ticked by, worrying over what could possibly be delaying him like this.

So much had happened in the two years since you and Eddie began dating back in Hawkins - your world had changed so much that sometimes you felt like a completely different person. It started with some big things, like reintroducing Eddie to your parents and begging them to start fresh with him - though your father resolved to never show any warmth to your boyfriend, at least your mother was kinder.

You decide that you wouldn’t be going to college following graduation, instead wanting to take a year to work, which was yet another thing your father didn’t warm to. Somewhere amidst that decision and the subsequent string of arguments that followed, you found yourself spending more nights with Eddie and Wayne than you did with your own parents, until one day you realized you had informally moved into the Munson home. So, by the end of summer ‘86, you were out of your parents’ house and working full-time to save up for whatever may come next (and to pay rent, despite Wayne’s insistence that it was entirely unnecessary).

You weren’t sure who proposed the idea first, but you and Eddie had decided one day that you were going to move out to California. Initially, this was just some fantasy for the two of you, something to give you hope that you’d hightail it out of Hawkins one day, but over time that fantasy started to look more and more real until finally you agreed that maybe the idea wasn’t half bad at all.

So, you began to set aside more cash, began to look into neighborhoods and cities around Los Angeles, began to tell everyone that the two of you would be leaving town soon enough. No one really believed you at first - all your friends were in support of the idea, but they didn’t think it was particularly realistic. And when you mentioned it on one of the very rare occasions you saw your parents anymore, your father had the gall to laugh right in your face. That, of course, only bolstered your resolve to get the hell out of Indiana, and a lot of your freetime was slowly consumed with library visits to figure out how exactly to make this move happen.

You and Eddie finally made the leap a few months back, spending a couple weeks road tripping your way across the country, finally arriving in Los Angeles with only your most important earthly belongings and little else. Leaving Hawkins had been harder than you expected - leaving Wayne being the hardest - but you found California to be utterly refreshing, to fit you almost like a glove.

After living out of a hotel for a while, you found this cozy little apartment down in Long Beach, and you’d been content ever since; sure, it wasn’t perfect and the neighborhood wasn’t impressive, but it was your space, and that made it just right for you and Eddie. You both got jobs to hold you over for a while, you started visiting bars and venues, hell, you even found a stray cat that you quickly adopted without a second thought.

You’d been leaving the dollar theater after seeing a re-release of Labyrinth when the little calico found you - something about the film, and David Bowie, had totally mesmerized you when it came out the year prior, and Eddie was happy to take you to the special showing that night. So, when this cat approached you curiously and began weaving playfully between Eddie’s ankles, you were both immediately smitten. You named the cat Sir Didymus only to discover it was female a few weeks later, but it suited her rascally personality just fine, and thus her name stuck.

And now here you were, five months into your new California life and driving yourself crazy over where the hell Eddie was and why he was late to return home.

You called the record store and asked if maybe he was working late and forgot to mention it, but his coworker informed you that Eddie clocked out right on schedule; he mentioned that Eddie seemed eager to leave, but didn’t have any further information for you. On the one hand, it made you worry that something had happened, but on the other, you were annoyed that he had possibly made plans without telling you, as unlikely as that may be.

You’d tried to think of all the places in town that he could have gone to, but nothing seemed particularly viable - he wouldn’t have gone to a show without you, wouldn’t have gone to the store without you, wouldn’t have gone anywhere without you. Not unless he was keeping some kind of secret, but you couldn’t fathom what that might be.

Considering that today was your birthday, you had originally thought maybe he was making a special stop to get you flowers or a cake or a last minute gift; it was so like Eddie to do that, even after you insisted he didn’t need to get you anything at all. But once 7 o’clock hit, and then 7:30, and then 8pm, you began to doubt this original line of thought and assume the worst instead. 

Decidedly, a few minutes past 8, you’d thrown on one of Eddie’s sweaters and your shoes, and made the short trek down to the convenience store on the corner - the two of you were in there practically every day, so maybe one of the employees had seen him. The familiar night clerks greeted you, but when you asked about Eddie’s whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue, which made your worries grow even more. As if to put your mind at ease, they gave you a free 6-pack and said they’d call you if they saw him.

You returned back to the apartment to Sir Didymus crying for dinner, which made you realize you forgot to set out food for her earlier. Cursing to yourself, you filled her bowl and began to pace nervously, trying to consider where the hell Eddie could be. Did you forget about a show that he had previously mentioned? Or was he hit by a fucking truck? Maybe he got caught up chatting with a customer like he was one to do, or maybe he got fucking mugged. All possibilities were on the table, and you hated each and every one of them for causing you such worry and distress.

Prying open a window, you crawled onto the fire escape and lit a cigarette, hands shaky with anxiety as you pressed it to your lips. The night was relatively quiet for your neighborhood, which wasn’t saying much - there were always cars cruising up and down the road, music blasting from a nearby bar, and people constantly arguing in alleyways and backyards. But the noise was soothing in its way, reminding you that the world was constantly in motion and that Eddie was probably just caught up in it all.

Sir Didymus came to sit beside you, meowing as if she, too, was wondering where the hell Eddie was and why he wasn’t back home. You considered throwing on some clothes to go searching for him, but aside from the bar and the convenience store, there was nowhere in the area that he would be; moments like these made you wish you two hadn’t sold your car, because it would’ve been really convenient to have right about now.

Each time you heard tires screeching or saw headlights shining down the road, you craned your neck to get a better look, but it was never Eddie. You’d already nervously polished off two cigarettes and were lighting up a third; Sir Didymus had retired to sleeping on the pile of blankets that she commandeered within a few days of moving in.

As you were caught up in your anxious thoughts, you thought you’d heard metal music from somewhere nearby, muffled and far off, but it caused your ears to perk; when you realized that it was specifically a Dio song playing, you immediately shot to your feet, clambering back through the window while dropping your cigarette into the ashtray.

Without bothering to slip on shoes, you rushed out onto the breezeway connecting all the little apartments in your complex, gripping the rails as you tried to find the source of the music, which was obviously louder from this side of the building. The street in front of your complex was crowded with cars, so if the music was Eddie’s, he must have had to park way down the block; eventually, the music stopped, and you became more anxious by the second.

When finally you spotted Eddie walking up the sidewalk towards the gate, you all but rushed down the stairs to meet him halfway; Eddie smiled largely, clearly not able to make out your concern under the flickering lights illuminating the path. A glare grew in your eyes as you realized he looked just fine; in fact, it seemed he stopped by the store, if the grocery bag in his hand was anything to go on. He held up his arms to greet you, but before he could get a word out, you hissed while jabbing him in the chest.

“Where the hell have you been?” Your eyes were alight with panicked concern, and you didn’t realize until that moment that you were on the verge of relieved tears. You swallowed, determined to hold them back, “It’s almost 9 o’clock, Eddie, I was worried out of my fucking mind.”

Eddie’s face fell, arms drooping at his sides; he didn’t expect you to have gotten so worked up over him not returning on time. He thought he could surprise you, that he could do something nice for your birthday, but the utter panic in your expression told him otherwise. He dipped his head down towards yours, hoping that he could sooth all the stress that had bubbled up inside you.

“I should’ve called--”

“No shit.”

Eddie clenched his jaw a little, taking a breath - he wasn’t about to get upset with you, he wouldn’t let himself, “Let’s go upstairs, okay?”

The impulsive side of you wanted to argue with him right here and now, wanted to grill him about why he didn’t come home and what he was doing. The more patient part of you, however, held back, shaky breaths heaving in your chest as you nodded with a twisted expression. You spun around on your heels and marched up the stairs, crossing your arms with a scowl; Sir Didymus sat just outside your open door, curiously waiting for you both.

Following just a step behind you, Eddie sighed to himself as he took in your rigid posture, realizing that he should’ve thought this through - after all, since your move to Long Beach, the two of you were essentially attached at the hip, doing absolutely any and everything together. Of course you would worry when he didn’t come home, when he didn’t call or give you a heads up - but, again, he’d just been hoping to surprise you, and hadn’t considered that a few hours would get you as stressed as you were now.

Back in the apartment, you took large strides towards the open window and retrieved your cigarette from the ashtray. To calm yourself down, you began to pace, watching as Eddie closed the door behind him and waited there a moment as if to collect his thoughts; when he turned to face you, you quickly looked away and took a deep drag.

“God, Eddie, I’m trying not to be mad, okay, I was just so worried and I thought maybe there was something you were keeping from me or that maybe you were in an accident or even dead in a fucking ditch, and I know it’s ridiculous to get so worked up over only a few hours but--”

“You can be mad.” He interrupted the inevitable rambling that was about to commence.

You had always struggled to express emotions considering the household you grew up in, so these past two years with Eddie had been a learning experience for you, which led to your feelings often spilling over when they became overwhelming. You shot him a confused look, still struggling to this day with the idea that it was okay to feel something; you bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t keep babbling, trying to collect your thoughts.

“I should’ve told you where I was,” Eddie started, walking the short distance from the front door to the kitchen, gently dropping the grocery bag atop the counter, “but I wanted to surprise you.”

You laughed smally, feeling stupid for getting so worried over seemingly nothing. Shaking your head, you took a deep drag from the cigarette and turned to face the window, eyes unfocused as you looked around. You dropped your head, beginning to feel more and more stupid the more that you thought about it; you could hear Eddie coming up slowly behind you.

“Get out of your head,” He instructed gently, to which you laughed again, “You’re probably already kicking yourself, am I right? As if you did something wrong?”

You narrowed your eyes at his reflection in the window - fuck, he knew you too well. Slowly, you turned to face him again, but you kept your gaze on the floor. Eddie took another couple steps closer, waiting for you to eventually look up at him.

“I’m sorry, princess.” He said simply, and the pet name nearly caused you to smile fondly; even after all this time, it stuck, and you figured it wasn’t going anywhere. You could tell in his voice that Eddie saw you resisting to grin, “I should’ve called, I just got caught up in the surprise.”

The corner of your mouth pulled up, and you looked at Eddie carefully through your lashes; his smile was gentle and sweet, eyes far more adoring than you thought you really deserved. Swallowing your trepidation, you asked smally, “What surprise?”

Eddie’s smile grew larger as he cocked his head, “Your dual birthday-anniversary surprise.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, relief slowly relaxing your shoulders as you took a final small inhale of the cigarette before tossing it out the window, “My birthday is not our real anniversary and you know it.”

You smiled fondly at the memory of meeting each other at that picnic table behind the football field, at the crazy fake dating scheme you had that ultimately led you to where you were now. It felt like a lifetime again that senior year happened, and yet it still felt as if it was only yesterday.

“So maybe we have two anniversaries.” Eddie teased fondly, his eyes taking you in as if you were still a breath of fresh air to him. Under those soft, adoring eyes, you could feel your ears growing hot even still.

You sighed affectionately with a shake of your head, crossing your arms as a gust of wind came up through the window; being near the beach, the air was always unexpectedly cold at night. As you took in the always pleasant sight of Eddie, you realized he had a bandage just above his collarbone, which caused your brow to furrow with concern as you looked between it and his face.

“What happened?” You asked, closing the gap between you two so you could worry over whatever the hell was on his neck; you wondered if maybe he nicked himself shaving, but the bandage seemed far too large for that. Did he hurt himself at work?

As you reached for the bandage, Eddie laughed, capturing your wrists in his hands before you could touch his neck. You met his eyes with confusion, to which he simply shook his head.

“That’s the surprise.”

Your expression deadpanned, “You getting hurt is the surprise? Geez, babe, how romantic.”

Eddie laughed again, fondly rolling his eyes, “Not hurt in the way that you think.”

Clearly enjoying your confusion, Eddie released your grip and reached for the bandage, hissing a little as he tried to gently peel it off. Your jaw dropped in both surprise and confusion at the injury beneath it, not prepared for what it would be.

It was a tattoo, though that wasn’t the surprising part, considering that Eddie was slowly becoming covered in them. No, what took you aback was that the tattoo was quite clearly your lips, done in a shade almost identical to the lipstick color you’d been trying just the day before. You stared dumbly at it, as if you couldn’t quite compute it, as if you didn’t quite think it was real.

When you finally managed to draw your gaze back up to Eddie’s face, he was smiling from ear-to-ear, eyes twinkling with clear delight at your stunned expression. You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times as you tried to find your voice again, eyes rapidly looking back and forth from the tattoo to his face and back again.

“You… got a tattoo for me?” Your tone was one of disbelief; saying it out loud made the moment more real, and suddenly your throat felt tight as if you could cry.

Eddie nodded with pride, “You like it?”

You stared at the replica of your lips, recalling the evening prior when you’d been testing out make-up samples that you’d gotten from work. Eddie always enjoyed watching you apply make-up, and of course lipstick was his favorite part; when he commented on a shade that he seemed particularly fond of, you leaned over and planted a loud, silly kiss at the base of his neck.

Considering that you crawled out of bed hours before him to get to your shift at the make-up counter, you didn’t see whether or not he’d ever cleaned the lipstick off; evidently, he must have worn it like a badge of pride all day until he could finally get down to the tattoo parlor and make it permanent.

Shaking yourself from your reverie, you looked at Eddie lovingly, your eyes a little more wet; god, you’d gotten so much more emotional since he entered your life, it was nearly ridiculous. Or maybe you’d just become more vulnerable, far less skilled at holding back when it was just the two of you alone.

You cupped his cheeks gently, being extra careful not to go near the fresh tattoo, “God, I love you.”

The smile he gave you was dazzling, mesmerizing even, “I love you, princess.”

You drew his lips down to yours, resting your forehead gently to his; Eddie hummed contently, whispering a tender “happy birthday” against your lips before kissing you fiercely.

.

.

addt. a/n: I'll try to keep this short and sweet. Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and watched it grow, to those that have been commenting and messaging with each update, and to all the incredibly fic writers I've met through this story! And, of course, a HUGE THANK YOU to my dear @eddiernunson for being so invested - you've helped me developed so many ideas, and it's truly warmed my heart to see someone else love the ice princess as much as I do <3 If anyone would like to be tagged in any future outings these two may have in store, please let me know!

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie

@dreamerjj @eddiernunson @feralgoblinbabe @frogtape @fromasgardandback

@fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets

@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive @rach5ive @sapphire4082

@sav12321 @seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

@teethvenom @tvserie-s-world @twihard28 @urlivingdeadgirl @v1per1ne

@wefracturedmotivation @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx

[dilf-docs]

hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v. (unprotected) (use protection guys pls!!! unlike this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

What Are You a Cop?

Eddie is drowning his sorrows at the bar. His band didn't get the Saturday spot at 'Damsels' and when he went home to complain about it he caught his boyfriend in bed with someone else.

He feels someone come up behind him and he quickly ducks his head onto the counter, cigarette still in hand.

"Hi! Um I saw you from across the bar- can I buy you a drink?"

"Fuck off," he mumbles into his elbow.

"Are you ok?"

"Fuck off."

"You know...you shouldn't smoke in here."

That makes Eddie's head pop up off the counter. It actually pisses him off to the extreme. Straw that broke the bank etc. He acts in a flash, grabbing the closest drink to him.

"What are you? A cop?" He growls and throws the drink at the voice.

His eyes are blurry and have trouble adjusting to the light. When they do the first thing he notices is the earth-shattering beautiful man in front of him, vodka cran running down his face, and a smirk on his lips.

Wait.

Fuck

The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a police badge.

"How'd you guess?"

"Well-" Eddie's wide eyed and stuttering. "I thought either those handcuffs in your pocket were real or you were excited to see me."

"HA! Oh that's a good one. You're gonna have to come with me."

"Shit."

-------

"Come on officer! Lemme go!!!! I'm sorry ok. I'm so sorry. I was having a crappy night and I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Mr. Munson, you attacked a police officer, smoked a cigarette indoors, and you're too drunk for me to send home without supervision. One night in the tank is not gonna hurt you. I won't even put this on your record."

"Eddie."

"What?"

"I've heard cops say Mr. Munson enough in my life. Eddie's fine."

"Ok then Eddie, I'm Steve."

"Perfect."

Eddie rambles to Steve for hours until the alcohol starts to hit him a different way and sleep overtakes him.

---

There's a bang on the cell door and Eddie shoots up out of his slumber.

"WHUH"

"Goodmornin Eds, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

"Perfect! Let's get you home."

"You're...taking me home?"

"Well I...I want to make sure you're ok. I did enjoy spending time with you I wouldn't mind getting in an extra ten minutes." Steve smiles at him sheepishly.

A small blush grows on Eddie's face.

On the drive back Eddie becomes enamored with Steve. He loves the way he snorts when he laughs, he loves hearing him sing along to Fleetwood Mac, and he loves hearing about the kids he helps through a police program. He forgets all about his cheating boyfriend and knows Steve is all he wants. He feels devastated when the car comes to a stop.

"Well...I guess I'll see you around?"

Panic shoots through Eddie.

"Well I uh, never got that drink from you. Would you like to come in?"

Eddie will never forget the red face and glistening smile on Steve in that moment.

"How about coffee?"

"It's a date."

----

COMMENT 🫵

[capseycartwright]

do you want to share some of the fic you’re writing 👀

i was hoping to finish this today but i don’t think that’s happening so yes. yes i want to

Eddie looked angry, and oh – oh this was Buck fucking it all up again, wasn’t it?

“Fine,” Eddie slammed his phone down on the kitchen table. “You set me up a dating profile then – Hinge, Grindr, whatever you fucking want, Buck. Set me up a dating profile, and you pick which random man I need to sleep with to make it so you feel okay about wanting me.”

“Eddie…”

“Don’t give me that look,” Eddie wiped roughly at his face. “Go on. You know my passcode, Buck. Seeing as you know what’s best for me, go right ahead.”

“Eddie, I don’t want you to be mad at me,” Buck tried, Eddie’s phone feeling like a bomb, as it sat between the two of them, the distance between one end of the kitchen table and the other feeling cavernous.

“I’m not mad. I’m hurt,” Eddie shook his head. “I told you I love you, and you tell me I need to go and sleep with other guys and get it out of my system before you could want me for yourself? Are you hearing yourself?”

“I just – your first is never your last,” Buck tried, feeling helpless, and hopeless. “I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret not having been with other people.”

“If you think I’d wake up one day and regret anything except all the time I didn’t get to be with you, maybe you don’t know me as well as I thought you did,” Eddie stood up, the squeak of the dining chair against the kitchen tile loud as he moved.

“Where are you going?”

“For a drive,” Eddie bit back sharply. “And I’d prefer if you weren’t here when I got back, so you can let yourself out, Buck.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Buck alone in the Diaz kitchen, with only Eddie’s phone for company.

He hadn’t even gotten to have Eddie, and he’d already ruined it.

[cherrycolored-punk]

take a bite out of these

just an updated list of all of my favorite creators so far! I’m sure there will be plenty more added 🖤

thank you for sharing your talent and your amazing creations!

this is a little long so all recs are below the cut !

can also follow my tag #el’s fic recs

Eddie -

crash + fall by @trashmouth-richie - an ongoing soulmate AU series about my favorite freak that I’m already so very in love with and is written so beautifully.

she fucking hates me by @littlexdeaths - I’m still foaming at the mouth over this bully!Eddie x reader fic. it’s so fucking hot and I don’t think I’ll be over it any time soon (or ever).

after hours by @hellfire--cult - I am fairly new to the omegaverse and holy fuck what an introduction this was. I love a dominate Eddie and oh my god did Roe deliver.

sailor’s delight by @dr-aculaaa - this fic made me YEARN in a way I wasn’t prepared for. Drac is an amazing writer and I just wanna live in this little world they created.

let's go, don't wait by @carolmunson - the fic that has me questioning why none of my online dates have ever been this good. I fucking love this story so much, just wanna live in a world where teacher!Eddie falls in love with.

daylight by @abibliophobiaa - while I tend to stay away from pregnancy!AUs, this one had me hooked. It's cute, sweet, hot. I need a dad!Eddie stat.

twenty-four hours / coffee shop blues by @ghost-proofbaby - ghost is hands down one of my favorite Eddie writers. She writes him in a way that makes me fall in love time and time again. as a bonus, if you're a fan of astarion, she's written the moon will sing (i love you like the sun) which is just as beautifully written as the rest of her works.

the biology tutor by @mrsjellymunson - I binged this in a day, the premise and the smut were so damn hot that I couldn't get enough.

everlong by @andvys - this was my first introduction to andy's work and it has remained a favorite ever since. has so many amazing stories but there's something about a secret relationship behind Steve's back that gets me.

the yes policy / wish you were here by @pinkrelish - the way I lost sleep reading through both of these fics. I love the worlds that Alyson created and the version of Eddie she gifted us with. I've read them over and over again.

to know you’re mine by @blueywrites - I read through this series in a day, losing sleep may I add, because I was that addicted to it. I will admit, at first, I didn’t think it’d be my jam because of the swinger dynamic but holy shit does Bluey make it both tender and hot at the same time. I almost combusted. I seriously couldn’t get enough. She is an amazing writer and I can’t wait to read more of her work.

for your viewing pleasure / shelter from the storm by @rebelfell - the way Sarah has me absolutely on my knees for Eddie every time I read one of her fics…they genuinely leave me UNWELL (in the best way). like for your viewing pleasure? I was a little unsure at first (would I get jealous over a fictional man having relations with other fictional women?) but then I devoured it. it’s so insanely hot and she is one of the best smut writers on here. and shelter from the storm? pllleeeeasseee Eddie show up on my doorstep to check up on me in a storm. Please offer to get me there.

Steve -

we tried the world / she drives me crazy by @upsidedownwithsteve - if there is an author I equate with a character, it's Emmy with Steve. I was a diehard Eddie girl until I read her stories and fell in love with my favorite dork again and again. All her works are seriously a gift that I always return to.

all i really want is you / colors by @loveshotzz - the first author that made me even consider an older!Steve let alone fall in love with him over and over in every way she writes him. I will never be over either of these fics and re-visit them all the time.

we'll call it love by @superblysubpar - I've said before that this is part of my top ten and still is to this day. I revisit it often, falling back into this world. dreaming of this steve. story is so witty, funny and hot while also remaining tender in many moments. Also, simply the best - the title is pretty self-explanatory because the story is already that…simply the best. It’s ongoing but I am already hooked. I love the Spider-Man!Steve AU and Taylor is an amazing writer so I know it’s only going to keep getting better.

asking for a favor by @wroteclassicaly - this struck me right in all the perfect feels and Kristen has a way of doing that. I have a long to be read list but Kristen is all over it. She's an amazing writer and I love all her angst / smut.

Jonathan -

rise and shine by @eiightysixbaby - I hadn’t read a fic for Jonathan before, or really considered it, but man…this fic managed to convert me. Now I need him in the biblical sense.

Billy -

no charge by @hellfire--cult - oh. my. fuck. what a fast conversion this was to a Billy fan. Jaw on the floor, wondering why I don’t have a hot hot hot Billy knocking on my floor to give me the ultimate striptease plus 8 inches extra.

honey honey by @pastel-pillows - speaking of my fast train to a Billy fan, this is the fic that really started it all. He is so sweet in this, and I just ache for a soft Billy since reading this amazing fic.

@boltedfruit

@selineabanto

@xgumiho

@tubesock86

@stervrucht

@toktopus-art

@donttellunclesam

@littleststarfighter

@tellme-astory

@jemmacdraws

@obligatedart

@strangergraphics (graphics / headers / dividers)

@hugdealer (some of my favorites edited photos of Eddie)

@freckledjoes (photos / gifs)

@werewolfnat (formerly kingofscoops)

@djo

@steveharringtondaily

@batty4steddie

@emziess

most, if not all, of these are Eddie coded

you know I can eat you better than he can

getting hate fucked on your crushes bed by his best friend

post campaign pleasure with your dungeon master

your bully finds out you have a crush on him

[lover-of-mine]

Anna baby we got new stills!! I am very curious why so many of Buck's outfits have been brown. The flannel he's wearing in the loft??? Blue and red and brown??? I'm thinking they tell Buck Maddie is pregnant, and it gets Buck thinking about a family (adding to his already immense longing), add in the pictures on his fridge and he is so close to understanding what he wants! But anyway! What is with the brown????

Hello baby!! So, the brown. I was talking about the brown with @stagefoureddiediaz literally yesterday lol. But current theory is that they are playing with both the stability and growth attached to the color when put in a positive light and the sense of isolation when we put it in a negative light. Buck doesn't wear brown a lot pre-season 7, his neutral color is grey, but ever since he came out he has been in a grey/sepia scale. The only instances me and Kym could come up with at the top of our heads was when Chim kicks Buck out and he has to move back with Maddie and the grocery store fight.

It plays into movements in Buck's life he needs to figure out alone, in a sense. Only Buck can break his own patterns and using a color that's attached to both stability and growth, like who he is for Eddie in 710, and loneliness, the grocery store, is fun because only Buck can allow himself to grow, he needs to do this for himself

Brown was also very attached to Tommy, Buck hasn't worn any brighter colors, like he would do his blues and red in previous seasons, this season yet, except for his costume, and I think it also plays into the way Buck forces himself to be what his partner wants and fails to consider what chipping away pieces of himself will do to him, like the way Tommy doesn't know he doesn't like basketball or the way Buck never complained about the "Evan" thing or the way Buck didn't know Tommy is gay or was engaged before or all the tiny ways they showed us Buck and Tommy didn't really know each other. And that plays into the way Buck was dimming himself while trying to find himself in the relationship, while trying to make dating Tommy something transformative, especially because while doing that, he was negating parts of who he is.

The brown hoodie is the first time we are seeing Buck in plain brown too, he's usually in a pattern or a textured fabric, and the mopping around and the very obvious stress-baking on "faded" colors with Jee in a literal rainbow, probably leading Buck to talk to Maddie and Chim in the red and blue will be interesting if that's the correct sequence of events. Because it will allow Buck to start bringing that color back to his life.

He's back in his self-discovery blue and that red with Buck is attached to emotions, trying to get in the right direction when it comes to his feelings, like trying to let go of Abby, his speech about love, a few moments in 208, Buck, actually as a whole works for Buck to try and figure out his own feelings.

But he's not in the true red, so, as pointed out to me by Kym, it's almost as if he's locking himself. He's not ready to have the revelation yet, But he will be back in blue, that's a good step, he will probably work his way back to his blue, being in it when he's ready for Eddie.

I will taglist this one (interact with this post if you wanna get tagged)

@sparkedblaze @caw-salem @dreamofsomepiphany @100ceruleaneyes @linus-lucy @chaosqueery @gina-spike @chimchiminie98 @elvensorceress @singitforthegirls @dangerpronebuddie @182daysof @steadfastsaturnsrings @sparklespiff @inell @miles--to--go @jesuisici33 @wolfdeans @lunarsolar1 @joshwritesfics @glasscities @kejfeblintz @stagefoureddiediaz @mosaicstardust @eddiedisasterdiaz @hermioneindisguise @queerprincesseddiediaz @lookforanewangle @becausebuckley @lemotmo @thenainitaldisaster

@dingdongfries @angelcamael

[copperbadge]

I'm still working on Chicken Salad War, but I've been thinking about the next book (or books) and reminding myself that sooner or later I'm going to have to write the book where Ofelia finishes democratizing Galia and they have their first elections. I was thinking just now that when they do it's going to be a big event, and Michaelis, who has taken on a kind of part-time mentorship role to Ofelia, would want to go witness the elections and bask in all the politics.

Which led to the realization that the funniest possible outcome of the Galian elections is if Michaelis wins on a write-in vote.

I won't do it, it complicates things too much and he retired for good reason, and certainly there's something in the bylaws about having to be a Galian citizen to become president. But I can't help laughing about it. Imagine his expression when he sees his name on the list of candidates whose votes are being tallied, and then his growing alarm as his name slowly rises to the top and just sits there.

"I am not going to become the president of a country whose previous head of state I punched in the face!" Michaelis announced loudly.

"Oh man," Eddie said, "I'm totally going to leak the fact that you punched the Duke."

"Georgie would kill you undetectably if I asked," Michaelis replied.

"Not if she wants to stay in Monday's good graces, she wouldn't," Eddie said complacently. "Jes, are you prepared to become First Theydie?"

"Oh, man, that joke's so good I might force you to accept," Jes said to Michaelis.

"I am betrayed by all those I love," Michaelis declared.

"Not everyone. I think you'd make a dreadful president," Joan said loyally.

"Thank you, mio Ioannina, I knew I could count on you."

"You know, they say we're a country of trolls, but I don't think we can top electing the former king of a neighboring country for sheer audacity," Gregory said.

"I'm going to accept the presidency and then invade and conquer you," Michaelis informed him. "Joan will help."

"I want the Shivadh throne if I do," Joan said.

"Well, the job of a grandfather is to spoil his grandchildren," Michaelis replied. "Gregory, you're on notice."

"Our family is super weird," Ephraim said to Noah, from where they were playing video games in the corner.

"Truer words never spoken," Noah replied.

[ashwhowrites]

Hello, I love your stories and I hope you can make my fun request

Can you do Eddie Munson x Death fem reader

So hear me out let's say there in the upside down (11 and everyone isn't in California there in Hawkins and in the upside down with them and while they where chilling out in the upside down when Steve got hurt all of the sudden they heard whistling and turned and see a badass fem reader and walked up to 11 and starts toying with her (just like the wolf from puss and boots yk Death and when they figured out she's actually death they somehow get her a change of heart (after she tried to kill 11 and showed off her power a bit) and her and Eddie fall in love or Eddie falls first.

Sorry if it’s long

This was actually so fun and I loved writing the Death character. So if anyone else loves it, feel free to request ( once they are open ) for more death reader. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Death was inspired by Rio from Agatha all along, won't lie. But the Death character is NOT Rio. If that makes sense. Just don't think Aubrey plaza is the reader because she's not, just was an inspiration so I wanted to give the credit to that.

Lady Death

"I FUCKING hate these bats," Steve growled. Nancy sat on her knees as she tried to cover Steve's wounds.

"What the hell is this place?" Eddie asked once he caught his breath. All he knew was that he jumped off a boat and was in a hell pit.

"The upside down," El said. She was looking around, almost like she felt the presence of something no one had seen yet.

"Oh great, so I have to fight to survive in the normal world, and now I have to survive in this sewer-type place? And this girl has powers?" Eddie asked frantically. He knew somewhat of everything that was going on, he just didn't believe it was a real place.

"Dude, I've already told you all of this!" Dustin argued.

"No offense, kid. But I figured you were full of shit!'" Eddie spat.

"Guys! Quiet," El demanded. Everyone went silent as they looked at her. She closed her eyes, trying to feel what was wrong. "There's something here," she whispered.

"Yeah, flesh-eating bats!" Steve hissed.

Before anyone could say anything, El was flung across the ground.

"EL!" Mike shouted, running over to her. But before he could come in contact with her, she was evaluated into the air. The gang watched in horror as she seemed to be held up by her throat, by an invisible force.

"What's going on?" Robin panicked. Nancy worked faster to clean up Steve.

The sound of someone whistling filled their ears. The gang all turned to see a woman walking towards them. She was dressed in a skin-tight green bodysuit, holes on the sides that showed skin, a green crown on her head, and a dangerous smirk playing on her lips.

Everyone stared at her in fear and awe. She was incredibly beautiful, but nothing alive behind her eyes.

"Poor little El, not so strong anymore, huh?" The lady mocked, she flicked her wrist and El fell to the floor. Mike raced over to her, this time able to collect her body in his arms.

"Who are you?" El asked, panting as she took air into her lungs.

"She's Death," Eddie said in awe. Everyone looked at him shocked, how did he know who she was?

Even she was surprised. She was fast, appearing in front of Eddie in seconds as she gripped his neck. Eddie tried to cover up the fact that he was incredibly turned on by her harsh touch.

"Who are you?" she questioned, Eddie blushed under her studying eyes. She took in every inch of his face, something about him was familiar.

"Edward Munson," he choked out. The gang didn't move an inch, staring at the two.

"How do you know who I am?" She released his throat to allow him to speak. She flicked her wrist and everyone in the gang was thrown to the ground. They were stuck, not able to move a muscle.

Eddie was a little scared, looking at his friends and some people he barely knew trapped under her power.

"I've read about you. You collect souls, right? El was supposed to die from Vecna but she escaped. Unfinished business and now you have to finish her," Eddie explained, "am I right, Y/N?"

Y/N stepped away from the boy. She felt uneasy that he seemed to know everything. No one was supposed to know who she was until she took their soul, of course.

With her distracted, the gang ran over to El. El was quick to use her own powers, sending Y/N in the air and harshly crashing into the ground. Her head hit the ground with a thud and her body went still.

"LET'S GO!" Steve yelled, the gang nodded and all ran to make their escape. Eddie went to follow but when he took a look at Y/N's limp body on the floor, he stopped.

"Eddie, come on!" Dustin said, gesturing his hands to show that everyone was leaving.

"We can't just leave her," Eddie argued, against his better judgement he walked towards her.

"You said it yourself, she's Death. I think she's capable of handling a bump on the head," Mike sassed. He was annoyed that Eddie seemed to care about a stranger that was more than willing to kill El.

Eddie ignored Mike's words, kneeling down as he rolled her body over. There was a gash on her head, blood running down the side of her face. Eddie didn't have anything on him to help, but he ripped the end of his shirt and tied it around her head. He watched as his white shirt began to stain with her blood, but he didn't mind.

She couldn't die, he knew that. But he wouldn't feel right leaving her behind with no help at all.

~~~

It's been a few days since the encounter with Death, and she was in everyone's head ( just for different reasons.) El thought of her as a new enemy and most of the gang were terrified to know they were that close to Death.

But she was in Eddie's mind for a different reason. When he was younger he loved reading about death and what happened in the afterlife. He learned what death was, who death was. She's been around for centuries but never aged. Still the beautiful girl, who lost her soul too young.

Eddie often felt a connection to her. She didn't have a family, or any friends. People were scared of her, banished her, leaving her alone for years and years. She was like Eddie and Eddie was just like her. He was alone and banished in his own way, but they had much in common.

He couldn't leave her behind because he understood the pain of being alone. The pain of everyone running away, terrified. He wanted her to feel cared about for once.

Something about Eddie humanized her in a sense. She hadn't felt anything in her body since she died. She didn't feel emotions, her heart, not even her lungs. But when she was near him, touching and seeing him, she felt a beat in her chest. A flutter in her stomach.

Her body felt alive

She was able to trace where he lived from the property of his shirt. She carried the blood stained shirt in her hand as she walked through the woods, looking for his trailer park.

She felt that same beat in her chest as she walked past a small trailer. Random chairs in the front and an ash tray by the door. She walked away, the beat in her chest decreasing. With furrowed eyebrows, she walked backwards, the beat increased.

"Well look at that, having a heart is good for something," she scoffed, turning in the direction of the trailer.

She didn't knock, using her powers to fling the door right off the hinges.

Eddie was brushing his teeth when he heard his front door slam a wall.

"Shit!" He swore through his foamy mouth. He figured a big gust of wind blew through the door but when he came out, he saw Y/N standing in his house. His toothbrush hung from his mouth as he stared at her in shock.

"On-mf-e-sec-mff," he said through the foam. He turned and raced back in his bathroom to spit out the paste and rinse his mouth. He jumped when Y/N appeared behind him.

"Um, hi," Eddie said, staring at her reflection. She stood tall behind him, peaking over his shoulder. Her hair was down, framing her face. She was in her death clothes, the tight bodysuit making him gulp.

"You gave me this," she spoke bluntly. She held his shirt, hanging from her fingertips. He turned around and grabbed the shirt, tossing it to the floor.

"Thanks for bringing it back," he smiled. She flinched as she felt her heart race. But recovered with a smile.

"You're welcome," she said, turning around and walking out. Eddie followed, confusion on his face.

"Wait, where are you going?" He asked, moving to cut her off. Her body slammed against his and she stepped back. Her face stone cold.

"I dropped off the shirt. That's all that needed to be done," she said. Eddie frowned, thinking about how the only time she's in someone's presence is to kill them.

"Hey, you know you can be around people for fun, not just take their souls," the comment sounded like he was a dick but he was genuine about it. He closed the door and moved to his couch, patting the seat next to him.

She eyed him, moving cautiously and sitting next to him. "Well, thank you," she smiled. "And thank you for helping me."

"You don't have to thank me. I promise my friends are kind people, they just had to fight for their lives a few too many times," Eddie sadly laughed.

"You haven't?" She asked, Eddie could feel her eyes. He turned his head to look at her, trying not to get lost in her eyes.

"I have, I just understand how it feels to be the one that's left behind. I've studied you my whole life and you're not as scary as the books made you seem."

Y/N was in awe of the softness he showed and offered her. She couldn't remember when was the last time she got to be in someone's company.

"And by far more beautiful in person," he said, softer and quieter than before. Her heart fluttered and she felt her skin getting warm.

She felt shy, moving her head to hide away but his hand reached out. She jumped slightly at the feeling of his hand on her warm cheek. The eye contact felt intense, like she was in a trance and unable to look away. She didn't want to anyway, she wanted to stare at him all day long.

"You know, since you brought back my shirt. I think I owe you for your kindness," he whispered. Her stomach flipped as a small smile formed on his face. His perfect pink lips stretched as his white teeth were on display. She turned her head to the side, questioning him.

"You hungry?" He asked, "for food not souls." He clarified. She couldn't help but giggle at his words.

"I could eat," she smiled. He smiled back, standing up and grabbing her hand. He was prepared to go right out the door but then he stopped.

"Would you maybe feel more comfortable in..uh-" he stuttered, still feeling the effects of her suit clinging to her body and showing off her figure. "Comfier clothes?"

"What are the options?"

~

"Steve, if I hear you moan and bitch about the bats one more time, I will cut you myself," Robin threatened.

"I'd like a little support here! I could've died!" Steve argued. Nancy laughed to herself as the two began to argue. Jonathan had his arm thrown around her shoulder, looking down at the menu.

Eddie walked in, his hand in hers as he looked around for an open table. He was shocked to see Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan at a table.

Steve looked up and his eyes locked on Eddie, and then the girl next to him. Eddie gave him a small wave but turned the other direction, leading Y/N. They sat at a table, with her back to his friends.

Steve raced over to their table, he wanted to see if his eyes were seeing things. But as he made it to them, his eyes were right. Eddie was holding hands with Death.

"Can I talk to you?" Steve asked, his eyes on Eddie.

"One second," Eddie said, softly kissing her hand before he let go.

The two huddled over to the side, Steve whispering harshly.

"Are you insane?"

"She's still a person!" Eddie argued

"She's a killer, Eddie. You can't just get sucked into her looks. She's evil."

"She's not! It's a job. She doesn't kill randomly. She only goes when she's called. There's some human inside of her, I'm going to bring it out. She just needs someone to show her" Eddie explained.

"You are going to risk yourself and all your friends because you want to find the human in her?" Steve scoffed, "I don't believe there's any human in her," Steve looked over at the table. She sat drumming her fingers as she twirled a knife in the air with her powers.

Eddie sighed, knowing she wasn't helping his case.

Steve noticed a look in Eddie's eyes. He was desperate and he had this soft look when his eyes cast over her.

"You fell for her already, didn't you?" Steve chuckled. It was nice to see Eddie had a romantic side to him. Steve remembered the feeling of falling in love for the first time.

"Yes," Eddie sighed. "Which I know is crazy but trust me, she came to my house and do you know how easily she could have killed me if she wanted to?"

Steve sighed, he nodded his head. Sometimes he hated being a good friend.

"Well," he puffed, landing his hand on Eddie's shoulder, "Enjoy your date. And the gang will need to hear all about it."

The hand that was on Eddie's shoulder was suddenly ripped off. Steve cried out as his arm was bent backwards behind his back and slammed into a wall.

"Y/N!" Eddie hissed, taking her body off of Steve's.

The rest of the gang looked at the commotion, fast on their feet to run to Steve.

"Sorry!" Y/N said, a look of shock in her eyes. "I felt something burn in my body and lost it."

"From what?" Steve asked, his eyes huge as he sassed the girl, who he now noticed was dressed in Eddie's clothes.

"You touched Eddie," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't exactly sure herself.

"What's going on?" Robin asked. Quickly looking Death up and down, which didn't go unnoticed by Eddie. He snapped his fingers and Robin looked at him.

"Well," Steve said as he rubbed his arm, "looks like Eddie and um Y/N here are on a date."

The gang were shocked, not sure what to say.

"And she's the jealous type," Steve added through his clenched teeth.

"I'll stop by later and talk yeah? I'd like to enjoy my date," Eddie said as he slipped his hand into hers.

"Uh sure," Nancy said, still giving the two a weird look. Jonathan kept quiet, but he was just as confused.

The gang walked back to their table, Robin looking over her shoulder as the two sat back down.

"How the hell did he manage to swing her? She's way too hot for him," Robin scoffed.

"Oh little Rob, we'll get you your own little Death lover," Steve teased.

~~~

Within a few months, Y/N was around more often. She was glued to Eddie's side whenever she could be. Eddie loved it. He loved always having someone on his arm, and he wasn't mad about the kisses that were always placed on his skin.

The gang accepted her, a little on edge at times but she was mostly harmless. It was clear that the two were head over heels for each other in their own ways.

The times she was called to do her work, Eddie waited in his trailer. His heart warming when she appeared back within minutes, claiming she missed him.

Then she'd slide in his lap, Eddie's hands landing on her hips. He rubbed his thumb against her skin, thankful for the holes in her suit. He was guilty of getting hard whenever he saw her dressed in her suit. She was Death so of course she was mean about it. Rocking her hips against him as she slowly kissed his lips.

She was his and he was hers.

Who knew Death could make someone feel so alive.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[citrusandrottefruit]

Modern!Steddie (This is based on something I read a while back on Tumblr about Eddie becoming famous, Steve getting doxxed, and years later singing Hozier's Francesca to Eddie. I'll look for the fic, and if I find it, I'll put the link here.) EDIT: This is the fic here, guys. I recommend reading it. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48091627/chapters/121266283)

Steve has always been one of the popular kids, but not the kind of childish villains you see in movies. No, he was popular because he was handsome, had rich parents, was charismatic, and was good at sports. He didn't bully other kids, but he wasn't interested in them either.

He never felt the need to seek out new connections at school, because he'd had Tommy and Carol for years, and anyone new who wanted to talk to him would come to him. He didn't have to work hard to make new friends.

His time was spent on sports and the friends he already had. The occasional girlfriend, too, because he'd always been a romantic at heart and a lonely kid. Being best friends with a couple would also make him feel like a third wheel a lot, so having a girlfriend and double dates seemed cool.

Then he got into a fight with Tommy and Carol after that graffiti episode in the movies and they drifted apart. Tommy wasn't mean about it, but he was resentful and hostile, because they were best friends and it always sucks to lose a friend to a boyfriend/girlfriend who you think cheated on them.

After a year, when he and Nancy broke up, he, Tommy and Carol didn't get back together, but they weren't hostile, you could tell they felt bad for him. Steve wanted to be friends with them again, he just didn't feel right crawling back with his tail between his legs and he also felt guilty that they never reconnected before. He didn't want it to seem like he only got back together because he was single.

He's still popular, but now his best friends aren't around anymore and he got cheated on by his girlfriend, but he feels like he deserved it (let's just say the story they made up about Barbara dying was real and the trauma grew into a monster and consumed their entire relationship). So he feels alone.

He has the kids. But Dustin thinks he's awesome and he doesn't want to be anything less, Lucas also sees him as a hero, willing to take a beating for him, Max looks up to him as a big brother. Will is Jonathan's brother and has traumas, so Steve would never dump his problems on the kid. Mike is Nancy's brother.

All of his real friends are kids.

So, Eddie. Steve isn't lonely around school, he still interacts with other students, he's friendly with the popular crowd, a lot of people like him. He just has these moments where he seems sad and then suddenly he seems super chill again.

Anyone who looks closely can tell he's got a problem and pretends not to, but it's not obvious. Eddie doesn't think much of it at first. He actually finds it amusing, because he has a lot of shallow and superficial ideas about popular kids who conform to the norm and who are well-off.

Eddie comes over when he sees Steve reading a DnD rulebook. He mocks it a bit, but explains a few things and Steve, who has always been a social butterfly and never cared much about sitting at the same table as some group in the cafeteria, sits down with Hellfire.

Not with the intention of being their friend, just because he wanted to ask them questions, take notes and move on with his life. A brief connection, a friendly interaction. No different from his relationship with most people who are part of his social circle.

But Eddie keeps pulling him closer, invites him to join the Hellfire Club. Steve declines, because he likes the stories and wanted to learn about DnD because of the kids, but he feels insecure about being a player, about roleplaying, he's afraid of making the wrong decisions and ruining something that seems to be so important to their friends (both the kids and Eddie).

Eventually, they fall in love.

Steve graduates without much distinction and Eddie barely makes it, but they are free from high school. While Eddie continues to play concerts at the Hideout with the CC boys, Steve works at Scoops Ahoy and makes friends with Robin.

So, when Eddie decides to leave, Steve asks them to wait a little, to save up more money, to get better organized. If they stayed for a whole year, Robin could even leave with them. When Eddie doesn't agree, he says they can continue their relationship long-distance. After all, it's 2010 and there's technology for that.

Eddie leaves anyway, believing that Steve will regret it and look for him, understand that leaving is the right choice and blah blah blah. Steve can't leave yet, because if he moves out, if he doesn't follow the path his parents have laid out, he'll give up any illusion of family he might have had. His car is in his father's name, he doesn't have much savings, he's still not open about being bisexual and he's terrified of leaving his entire life behind. It's hard in Hawkins, but facing the whole world, the uncertainty, not having a home to go back to… It scares him. Eddie doesn't understand, because if nothing else worked out for him, he could go back to Wayne and be welcomed with open arms.

One of Eddie's first hit songs is about a preppy, popular, charismatic kid who's the captain of the swim team and lives in Loch Nora who starts dating him in his senior year and gets stuck in a shitty job at the mall. It's easy to figure out who Steve is. People at school find out quickly.

I like to think Carol is the one who alerts him, goes to his job to tell him the rumors. Tommy goes with her. Although Carol is kinder and more open and Tommy keeps his distance, as if he might be infected, he also tells Steve to be careful, for old times' sake.

Either way, he becomes a target. The students tell their parents that they believe the hit song is about Steve. This story even gets around the church that his parents donate to and "attend" when they're around. His parents' friends find out. His business partners find out. His parents, too.

His parents suddenly move back home. It was a huge fight, with his mother accusing him of being possessed, suggesting a treatment to "cure" him. Mr. Harrington said it was due to a lack of beatings. Either way, it ended with him bleeding alone in the street.

A few days later, he and Robin managed to return to "steal" some of his belongings back, including documents. Other than that, he lost everything.

Mr. Wheeler didn't even want him to get close to Mike anymore.

For a while, he spends his days between the Hendersons' couch and Robin's bedroom floor, feeling like shit and listening to the music Eddie wrote over and over again.

After that, he sells his cell phone, his laptop, whatever he managed to keep. Robin also sells some of her things and the kids help with this small fundraising, selling cakes and sweets. Even Tommy and Carol seek them out, providing almost 50% of the money. That way, Steve is able to leave with a few months' rent saved.

Wayne also helped, because he knew that Eddie's music was responsible for this. Steve told him never to talk about everything that happened with Eddie, so Wayne kept it a secret.

I think Tommy, Carol and Steve could get back to being friends. Not the same as before, but they have lunch together every few months and they were the ones who helped Steve get a job in a new city.

A few months later, Corroded Coffin is well established, about to release its first album. Robin goes to college and Steve and she move in together.

That's when other people start to find out who Steve is too. It starts with a post on Reddit, people speculating about him, which is the central theme of several songs, although none are as explicit about his identity as the first. His parents receive some hate mail, they make a point of sending it to the Buckleys and Steve finds out. What hurts the most is knowing that his parents never gave him any of his belongings, but they found a way to let him know that people he didn't even know hated him.

He gets some hate messages too, because, although he deleted his old accounts, the new ones are easy to find through the profiles of people who knew him before all this. So, they're probably students from school, people know what Robin's social networks are, finding him.

There isn't much hate coming his way because he's careful to keep to the shadows, and thankfully the speculation about Steve Harrington being responsible for breaking Eddie Munson's heart doesn't go that far, after all, there's nothing to keep fueling those theories.

One of the things that connected Eddie to Steve was music. I like to think of Steve as a musician, like Joe Keery is. If Eddie can pour out his anger through music, he can also pour his heart into it. He writes Unknown/Nth and posts it to an anonymous YouTube account. He sings with an acoustic guitar, without showing his face.

For a while, this feels like closure.

Steve still gets hate mail sometimes, even though he deletes the old accounts and creates new ones. Everyone in Hawkins seems to know about him and Eddie. The kids, who hated Eddie for a while, have reluctantly started to admire him again. Steve reassured them about this, but they all remained bitter about everything that happened.

Steve, for his part, has vacillated between hating Eddie and hating himself. Most of the time, he still feels like he maybe loves Eddie a little bit, as if he’s stuck on that last day they saw each other. Sometimes he blames himself for making the wrong decision. Other times he thinks that if he hadn't stayed in Hawkins, Eddie might never have made it big.

His feelings for Eddie are complicated.

So, about 5 years after the breakup, there's a documentary about the beginning of Corroded Coffin. Something not produced by them. Maybe by a fan? Who goes to Hawkins, talks to people, tells them about Steve, exposes Steve and it goes viral on social media.

His life goes to shit very quickly. Eddie doesn't even notice at first, because CC is on a world tour and they never have free time. Meanwhile, Steve becomes well-known on social media and gets some hate mail.

Things change a bit when someone, seeing old photos of Steve, posts on Reddit that they have a crazy theory: there's a song they've been listening to for years, that's a lost gem in the depths of YouTube and they swear that's Steve Harrington, because the moles match and you can see a Hawkins High jacket in the background. It's a pretty crazy theory, so it doesn't get much attention, but the song gains momentum.

Eddie finds out because, once he learned everything that happened, he started researching everything about Steve, trying to measure how much he ruined his life.

Assuming people find out that the song is really about Eddie, I think he could become the target of hate, almost as much as Steve did, because Unknown/Nth is a powerful song.

That's what I've thought, for now. They get back together in the end because Eddie's actions had terrible consequences, but he never meant to hurt Steve like that and the biggest culprits for everything that happened are his parents. The hate from the fans wasn't that intense until the documentary, so it was hard to notice.

Anyway, they have a long way to go. A talk to clear up their last fight, a lengthy apology from Eddie, reconnecting with the kids, getting back to being friends.

It would be terribly sad and difficult. It definitely wouldn't be a fairy tale, but they could learn to trust each other. Eddie could earn Steve's trust, affection, and friendship, and one day they could be a couple again.

[runraerun]

darling, dearest, dead

written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge for November | prompt: guard | wc: 532 | rated: G | cw: major character death (but not really?) | tags: angst with a hopeful ending, Ghost!Steve Harrington, GhostHunter!Eddie Munson

There’s a legend that the first person who gets buried in a cemetery becomes the guardian of all the other souls buried there after. They become a reaper of sorts, ferrying the newly dead from this world to the next—a place they can never go.

This is what happens to Steve Harrington, aged just eighteen when he tragically dies in the Starcourt tragedy in ‘85.

Steve, who dies but doesn’t move on. Doesn’t go peacefully into that good night, or however the hell the saying goes. He can’t.

Steve, who attends his own burial, but despite how loud he screams into the faces of his loved ones, goes entirely unheard.

He eventually gets it, of course. Despite what everyone thinks (thought? Do they still think of him?) Steve isn’t stupid. He catches on quickly when the first few souls come wandering up to him, lost and alone. Steve can see the path they’re supposed to follow, even when they can’t. So, Steve takes the time to explain to them what he knows, tries to comfort them, before guiding them towards the afterlife.

It’s a curse, really. Eternal isolation. Decades pass but Steve remains. The few souls he speaks to are always so eager to leave him. In the end, Steve’s left alone.

And then one day, Eddie Munson comes stomping through his cemetery.

—🛡️—

“What’s with the get up?” A dark haired stranger asks, startling Steve, “there an anime convention going on or something?”

Steve’s eyes trail up and down the newcomer. He wants to make a comment about the strange attire he died in, but upsetting the newly departed usually isn’t a good idea.

“It’s my work uniform. I didn’t have time to change.” Steve explains, a well-rehearsed response. The Scoops uniform that he can never shed was always a point of interest for people. “Sorry, I didn’t see you come in.”

This is the first time Steve’s missed a burial. Strange.

The guy snorts, “don’t apologize. I’m the one intruding. You visiting someone? I can wait to do my shit.”

Steve frowns, brows creasing where they come together. “No. I’m just… waiting.” He answers.

“For the ghost?” The stranger asks, his interest clearly piqued.

Steve blinks. “The ghost?”

“Yeah, y’know. The ghost that supposedly haunts this graveyard. Legend has it it’s some guy who died way back in the 80’s—there've been sightings for like, thirty years, but no one’s been able to actually record anything decent. All the pictures are super blurry. But I intend to change that. I’m Eddie, by the way. Ghost hunter and semi-professional psychic.” Eddie grins, giving a strange little bow in his introduction.

Wait…

“1985?” Steve asks.

“Yep,” Eddie pop’s the ‘p’, “The year Starcourt burned down and old Steven Harrington bit the dust. You know the story?”

Steve didn’t need to breathe—not anymore. And yet, he still felt short of breath. Lightheaded.

“It’s just Steve.” He clarifies.

“Yeah?” Eddie snorts, “how would you—”

A light seems to go off in Eddie’s head. He pales, eyes widening.

“You can really see me?” Steve can’t help but laugh, tears stinging his eyes.

“Yeah, I can see you, Steve.” Eddie mumbles, stunned, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

—

tagging: @sleepy-steve because they let me rant about reaper Steve to them<3 check out her reaper!eddie fic: here!💘

[sugdenlovesdingle]

So I have this need to Buck to be upset and trying to get in contact with Tommy to get clarity, only for him to get voicemail etc. And then Buck's angry and starts trying to force himself to move on (but not being able to).

And then for the 118 and 217 to COINCIDENTALLY attend the same incident, but the 217 are standoffish and curt instead of their usual chill selves.

And one of them throws out a 'be careful, if you end up in the hospital the 118 don't care', and it turns out Tommy's been hurt bad and is in a medically induced coma, and everyone assumed that Buck didn't give a shit enough to visit him.

As soon as they realise he didn't know, they change their tune and are like 'why are you still here, go see him'.

(I just don't want Tommy to entirely be the bad guy I guess 😅😅😅😅)

Who said Tommy was the bad guy??? Tell me! I will fight them!

ANYWAYS

Yes to all of this! I read your message earlier and I was like "Hmm medically induced coma is a bit much maybe" but nope. This is the 10 year old landing a plane on the freeway show - crash that helicopter and put that man in a coma!

(helicopter struck by lightning anyone?)

And I want the 217 crew to race buck to the hospital - Athena will make sure the entire LAPD will look the other way. And then a dramatic hospital bedside love confession after one of the doctors tells him there's been no improvement since he was first admitted and they're not sure if he'll ever wake up.

and then buck kind of passes out in the chair next to tommy's bed after barely *moving* for at least three days... and THAT'S when Tommy opens his eyes. Maybe just when Chim or Eddie comes to check on Buck.

And Tommy's all "let him sleep" but chim/eddie/whoever is like "uhm no, i don't have a death wish, thanks." and they wake Buck up and they have a dramatic reunion before they both remember they're supposed to be broken up. But Tommy is too weak to have long conversations, so Buck just tells him to get some rest because they have all the time in the world to talk and work things out, and then promises he'll be there when he wakes up.

And they live happily ever after somewhere tim minear can't hurt them!

[superblysubpar]

vampire!eddie munson x somekindofslayer!you / partner!steve

2,653 words

warnings: other than kind of like, illusions to some spicy things/slight implications of dubcon, not much in this little snippet | vampire things? Idk how to tag that ya'll? like weapons, blood imagery, etc? | oh also I think modern AU but also like ST things happened but also like the party is all in the modern AU except Eddie? Idk I haven't decided, don't think too hard about it

A/N: okay, so this is a little snippet of something I started *last* October and I lost the will and love to write and I've been returning to it frequently and I think I'll be posting the full thing soonish. I hope you enjoy it (and yes, I'm cheating and counting this as 3 days)

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event

It feels wrong.

There’s no better way to describe the feeling that weighs heavy on your shoulders and pricks at the back of your neck as you weave in and out of the too loud crowd.

Spilled beer and red plastic cups at your feet further marking up and ruining what you’re sure was once beautiful wood floors. Spray painted images and words foul and rude against walls with chipped paint and frayed wallpaper that hold a history people have forgotten too quickly.

Your fingers glide over the banister, the tipped cup to your lips flashing red in the dingy mirror on the grand father clock as you ascend the stairs.

The celebration below softens to a dull murmur of a crowd, the low rumble of bass as you take the last step and your lungs deflate with an exhaled breath of relief. Each door you pass is open, revealing dust and cobwebbed covered furniture and art, rooms frozen in time as the world around it kept going. You were surprised to find that none of the pop culture clad couple’s costumes had made their way upstairs this evening to make use of the more private rooms.

Perhaps there were still some things here that people didn’t want to disturb.

The claims that this home held ghosts, made you see things, the history of what once happened in this town, hadn’t dissuaded the night from happening as you had hoped. The possibility of all the sinister and spooky things the home brought only served to be fuel for a Halloween night party and practically dared the teens to host it there.

Which is probably exactly what he wanted.

Your hand discards the now empty solo cup on a dark wood buffet, finger leaving a clean swipe to it’s surface as you tilt your head to listen for anything out of the ordinary while the heels of your boots slow, then stop in front of the only closed door on this level.

The knob of the door twists easily underneath your palm, and as the door creaks open, soft light flickers above from a room you can’t quite yet see. With a deep breath, you close the door behind yourself as quietly as you can, the noise of the party now almost nonexistent. The only clue to it the vibrations from below your soles as you carefully start the climb of this second staircase.

While equally stuck in the past, this attic is littered with frequent use.

Recent too.

Candle’s wicks flicker around the room, all of various heights with melted wax now solidified in drips down their sides, which tells you they’ve just been lit, but not for the first time ever.

There’s a dark line in the slat flooring, like it’s been ripped in half and then clumsily pushed and glued back together. Something inside jars glint in the moonlight shining in from the small window on the opposite side of the room.

“Nice costume,” a deep voice from the shadows calls. A flick of a zippo sounds before the flame sparks, illuminating a figure leaning against the wall. Broad shoulders long hair falls against and a cigarette dangling between plush lips just made out in its glow as he lights it. The metal clicks together, returning him to the darkness. The end of the cigarette burns red at his side as a puff of smoke floats into the air with his words, “Buffy, right?”

Your throat feels dry as you risk a glance down at the costume, as if you need to remind yourself what you’re wearing. Little black dress, emphasis on the little. Your tits shoved up and out with a cross hanging heavy between them and little left to the imagination between the short hem just covering your ass and the tall knee high boots.

“You’re just missing one thing, vampire slayer,” his voice makes you jump, an instinctual step back only to find you’re up against the banister and he’s right in front of you now.

He hadn’t made a single sound.

“Yeah?” Your voice betrays you, cracking as the weight of something inside of your boot scolds you for not having it out and ready as he leans in, eyes on the cross on your neck as you try to sound more confident than you are, “What’s that…sorry I didn’t catch your name? And who are you supposed to be?”

In a flash, he’s across the room, twirling something between his fingers you can’t quite see as he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and paces.

“Wow, you don’t recognize me?” The chains against his jeans click as he spins with a dramatic sigh, “It’s okay, I wouldn’t remember me either.”

His leather and denim clad shoulders rise then fall in a shrug, the devil on his chest pulled tight as he stretches his arms out as if to say “ta-da”, and his tone sounds like he’s doing just that when he says:

“I’m Eddie Munson. The guy who made this place famous.”

Your heart thuds in your ears, tongue suddenly taking up too much space in your mouth as your stomach clenches.

“Yeah? That your name or your costume’s?”

“Oh,” he laughs, “Think you already know the answer to that.”

He whistles to get your attention when you look down, now acutely aware of the empty space between your calf and boot.

He waves the wood stake in the air, teeth gleaming white in his smile that brings a dimple out you can see all the way across the room.

“Looking for this, princess?”

“I’m not a vampire slayer, Mr. Munson,” you start, fingers behind your back working at the discrete silver bracelet on your wrist.

Eddie’s lips purse, amused as he leans against the windowsill, completely at ease as he watches you take a cautious step forward then another.

He grins at you when you take a third step and nods his head, encouraging you, “That’s it. Get closer. Promise I won’t bite…” he winks, “ ‘Less you want me to, of course.”

“Lotta girls take you up on that offer Mr. Munson? That what you were hoping for tonight?”

His smile grows wider, his tongue pokes at a canine that’s suddenly grown longer.

“First of all, Mr. Munson is my uncle, please,” he sticks his hand out now that you’re close enough, like he intends to shake yours, “It’s Eddie. And second, you vampire slayers…” he sighs, “Always all business, never any fun, huh?”

“Right, Eddie,” you concede, whispering, now close enough that you know he could easily do what’s in his nature. “And I thought I told you, I’m not a vampire slayer.”

His eyes flash when your hand wraps around his in a firm shake. His adam’s apple bobs with a large swallow as you take a step even closer, body between his spread legs, your neck and chest right where he’d want it. Eddie’s eyes are tinged with red, but he starts to pull away, breathing heavily.

Your eyes are on your hands still locked, and your entire body warms, heartbeat racing as his thumb swipes over the back of yours and his eyelashes flutter when you moan at the tingle the contact of his skin leaves against yours. Like the good kind of heat from a bonfire, any closer and it’ll start to burn, and any further away you’d be too cold.

Static crackles in your ear, “Um…whatcha doing, killer?”

Eddie looks directly at your left earlobe at the sound, and it all snaps you back to attention. Your silver bracelet in your other hand quickly locks around his wrist in your grasp.

Eddie blinks at you, each drop and lift of his eyelids growing heavier by the milliseconds as his hand slips from yours.

“Fuck,” he laughs, like he’s a little tipsy, head knocking against the window behind him as he looks at you from under his lashes, smiling. “You got me, slayer.”

“Not,” you swallow, taking a larger step away from him while trying to fight the urge to take off the bracelet subduing him, “Not a vampire slayer.”

He hums, rolls his eyes like he doesn’t believe you as footsteps creak loudly on the stairs behind you and your partner’s winded breath calls out your name.

“You smell good,” Eddie mumbles as you pull him to his feet and sling his arm over your shoulder, his head falling into the crook of your neck makes your entire body freeze.

His nose drags along your pulse, his lips follow, and a chill races down your spine, skin on fire where he’s pressed against it and you have to stop your teeth from biting on your bottom lip too hard or you’ll draw blood and who knows what’ll happen then. Maybe he’d lick it off your chin, maybe he’d-

“Did I just witness what I think I just witnessed? Were you gonna let him-”

“Don’t,” you gasp as Eddie sighs against your throat. “Not another word, Harrington.”

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you wide eyed and with his mouth hanging open as you shove Eddie’s weight to him and right yourself, fixing the hem of your dress and yanking your stake off of the ground. Doesn’t say anything while you check around corners and you pretend to be three drunk idiots stumbling to a car in case any one sees. Doesn’t say anything until Eddie’s passed out in the backseat and you’re looking in the rearview for the third time in less minutes, wheels spinning against wet black top and taking you past the: “Now Leaving Hawkins!” sign.

“What the fuck-“ he starts to hiss.

“I don’t know. Just…don’t. Okay? He touched me and…and…” your heart starts thudding harder. “I choked or something. It happens to the best of us.”

Steve licks his lip before it prods at his cheek as you grip the steering wheel tighter and he looks over his shoulder.

“Compulsion?”

“Maybe?” You shrug, though not believing it one bit.

“Imprin-“

“Don’t. That’s a myth.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds and then Steve’s lips twitch.

“Horny?”

He laughs when you groan and swat at his chest. “Shut up. You’re such an asshole.”

Steve snorts, looking out the window, mumbling, “That wasn’t a no.”

You flick his eyebrow that time.

“If that is the case, I mean, there are plenty of us who’d love to help you out. You don’t gotta stoop to being sucked on by vamps if you’re feeling-“

“You want me to use the stake on him?”

The car swerves at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat in your ears as you return to the correct lane safely and see Eddie sitting up in the backseat in your mirror.

“Fucking Christ,” Steve gasps, holding his chest and facing the back now.

Eddie visibly winces at the use of the name and Steve perks up.

“Woah. That’s real?” He leans forward, eyebrows raised, “Christ, Christ, Christ, Chri-“

Eddie’s fangs sharpen and descend and he starts to growl low from his chest, eyes flashing red. Steve’s lips twitch but he raises his hands in surrender when you hiss for him to knock it off.

“Of course,” he looks at you then the backseat, “I’ll stop bothering your little toy, honey.”

Your gaze slices over to him as Steve holds his silver stake over his chest, keeping his back to the dash and eyes on the now alert vampire in your backseat.

Eddie lifts his wrist up, “What the hell is this?”

Steve smiles. “That, is a Henderson original. Powerful enough to subdue even the strongest of ghouls, goblins, vamps and any other weird ass creatures we come across - quickly and temporarily in case of emergency. A smaller version of his version of that trap thingy and that gun thingy,” he snaps his fingers and looks at you, “What are they again? In Ghostbusters?”

“The Proton Pack”, you say as Eddie asks at the same time,

“The Super Slammer Muon Trap?”

Eddie clears his throat, adjusts himself in the back seat while rubbing his neck and your eyes return to the road after making eye contact in the mirror again.

“You, uh, you like Ghostbusters?” He fiddles with the rings on his fingers.

Steve’s lips twitch when you grumble to yourself though you know they both can hear it, “Of course I like Ghostbusters, what am I, a moron?” You frown as you sarcastically add on, “And nobody’s impressed by your use of the name of the trap from the video game. It’s just a ghost trap.”

It’s like you feel his laugh inside your own chest. Warm and flowing over you like sunshine on your face after a really long, gloomy day. You tilt your head into it, eyelashes fluttering.

“Yeaah,” Steve draws out the word, clears his throat. “Those. Cause she couldn’t really go in with the big, real deal. Good thing it worked on you though, fast, too. Hepburn here was about to willingly be your human juicebox.”

“I was not-“

“Hepburn?” Eddie asks as you start to protest something you’re not even sure you can. “Is that your name, slayer?”

“Not a slayer,” you clarify again.

“And that didn’t answer my question,” Eddie raises his eyebrows in the mirror, gaze on the back of your ear, your throat. If you couldn’t glance up and see where he was looking you were sure you’d be able to feel the heat of his stare anyways.

Warmth prickles at your skin, and goosebumps rise to the surface in a trail from your ear, down your throat, across your collarbone as you imagine his mouth following that same-

“Can we,” Eddie clears his throat, he pulls at his collar, “Can we open a window or something?”

“Did you…” your breath comes sharper, words caught in your throat before you can ask him anything about the sensation on your skin. You grip the steering wheel tighter when images of his mouth moving lower break up the two lane highway in flashes.

Steve’s lips twitch when your body shivers, and you beg through gritted teeth, “Steve. Put a second bracelet on him.”

“I’m not…I’m not doing, it’s you…I won’t hurt…” Eddie puts his head between his legs and groans, like he’s in the worst pain of his life, or like he’s in the best-

“Fucking hell. Sweetheart, relax. Your pulse is…”

Steve’s lips part as your head hits the back of the seat, your neck extended as your mouth falls open and your leg flexes when you swear you feel a prick on your neck and you whine.

The bright yellow lights of a familiar restaurant break up the dark sky and road and your speedometer drops quickly from the 90 it had climbed to as you signal your exit despite no cars being around, whipping the car onto the exit ramp.

“What are you…” Steve starts, stopping when Eddie sits up again and pokes at his teeth with his tongue, wincing as he grips the edge of the seat.

“Steve? That’s your name?” He gasps, blinking rapidly, “Put the second bracelet on me, man.”

The car slams to a stop in front of the Waffle House and you toss the burner that had been in the cupholder to Steve.

“Call Hop. Tell him he needs to send someone else to drive him or pick me up. Now.”

When you step out of the car and the cool Autumn air does nothing to soothe your skin that’s slick with sweat, you slam the driver’s door. The minute it closes, it’s like a switch is flipped and when you look in the backseat, Eddie’s shoulders visibly relax at the same time yours do.

Steve’s mouth moves, and you can’t hear it, but you know he said exactly what you’re thinking.

What in the actual fuck just happened?

thank you for the original request for "ghosts" with eddie - I know it's not *technically* about ghosts and the creel house is just barely a part of this, but I promise Jason and Eddie/reader/Jason things will be a theme in the full story