#and i also know everyone will be like 'if you hate eddie just say it' but no i do not hate eddie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

schrijverr · 3 days ago

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What Do You Mean You’re Not Really Together?

Divergence from chapter 7 to chapter 17, where Buck tells Hen – and only Hen – about Eddie and Chris. Hen takes it to mean he is married for real and not ready to be out at work, so covers for him, as well as lend a listening ear. It’s only when Eddie joins the 118 that she figures out that they’re not married-married. Against her will, she gets caught up in the dumbassery that is Buck and Eddie’s marriage, causing them to confess early.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie, Henren

Warnings: implied/referenced homophobia, internalized homophobia, referenced ableism, referenced emotionally abusive parents, near death experience, minor character death mentioned.

~~~

Buck has been with the 118 for a few weeks already when he approaches Hen in the locker room. She was taking a short break after a noisy call, but was about to rejoin everyone when Buck comes to sit next to her.

She gives him a surprised look, not expecting the presence. Buck looks a little nervous too and she wonders what this is about. Hen has grown to like Buck, he’s not what she expected when he first came in, in a good way, so she’s a little worried what he could be nervous about.

“Uh, so, how long have you and Karen been together? Were you guys already dating when you started working here?” Buck opens with a curve ball.

“…No, I met Karen through Chim, but I was dating my ex, Eva, when I started here,” Hen answers cautiously, unsure where this will go. In her experience, it’s rarely a good thing when her random guy coworkers want to talk about her relationships and she’d hate for Buck to disappoint like that.

“Oh, that’s cool, that’s cool,” Buck nods, more to himself. He’s quiet for a second, seemingly hyping himself up to say the next thing as Hen waits with dread, please, don’t offer a threesome. She’s about to graciously extract herself, when Buck says with faux-nonchalance: “So you were already out when you started? Or did you keep it to yourself?”

Tentatively Hen unclenches her butt muscles, halting her move to leave. This is taking another yet interesting turn. “I didn’t go back into the closet for my job here. Everyone has always known I’m a lesbian. Why the sudden interest?”

It’s a gentle prompt, which Buck is grateful for. He feels horridly awkward and he knows this conversation is going terribly. He just doesn’t know how to talk about it all. He’s never been good at keeping things to himself and ever since he let himself feel how much he loves Eddie, he’s been dying to share it with someone. However, the only person he shares things with is Eddie himself, which means that won’t work.

His solution has been to share it at work, but he knows his whole situation is a little weird with them not being together like that and him flirting and sleeping around. He doesn’t know if he wants to answer all the questions about it. It feels weirdly vulnerable to actually talk about his feelings for Eddie.

So, he picked Hen to open up to. Out of everyone there, she’s the person who is probably the most open minded about all this and, unlike Chimney, she can actually keep a secret.

Still, he flounders a little at how to answer her question, glancing around and hunching in on himself, before he blurts out: “Uhm, I’m kind of very much in love with my husband and I don’t want to get all the questions, but I also need to be able to talk to someone about it, but we just moved here and I don’t have any friends outside work to talk to about this sort of stuff, unless you want to count Chris, but he’s six.”

Hen blinks a few times as she processes Buck’s word vomit. Firstly, husband, that’s a surprise on both the man and married front. Hen is embarrassed to admit that she let her own preconceptions get the better of her and didn’t peg Buck as a fellow queer. Nor as a married man. Her bad.

Secondly, Chris, who is six. Unless Buck is friends with a random six year old, Chris likely is their kid, making Buck a father. The way he is with kids on call and the ability to be mature suddenly make a lot more sense to her.

As for the rest, they have all long since learned Buck is a horrible liar and not great at keeping things to himself. He likes to share. For him to not be comfortable with being out while bursting with love for his husband must be torture. Hen feels for him, she wouldn’t survive if she couldn’t brag about her amazing wife to anyone.

Having parsed through all the information dropped on her, she gives Buck a kind smile, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been holding that in, huh?”

“A little yeah,” Buck flushes with embarrassment.

“Well, I’m here for you, if you feel the need to talk to someone,” she says. “The others will be too, but you don’t have to share if you’re not comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Buck smiles, not knowing how much hearing that would be a relief, until he did. He’s never been too open about himself and his sexuality, remnants of growing up in a household where being gay was okay, as long as it was other people being gay.

“Of course, we stick together.” Hen nudges him playfully. “Now, tell me about this husband of yours. Like, what’s his name?”

Eddie getting referred to as his husband sends a thrill to him and a giddy smile comes on his face involuntary. “His name’s Eddie. Eddie Diaz. We got married so I could adopt Christopher. He’s our son.”

Now that the dam has been breached, he continues on easily: “Eddie is an army medic, only came back to us four months ago. He got injured, so he’s still recovering. He doesn’t want to go back, but he hasn’t said what he wants to do after, but he’s probably going to be great at whatever he picks. He’s really smart and very nice. Not the most social and a little grumpy, but he’s so cute when he’s grumpy. He’s also cute when he smiles. God, the way he smiles when he’s playing with Chris.”

Buck actually has to stop himself from squealing, burying his blushing face in his hands, before he says with a muffled voice: “One of these days I’m going to die of an Eddie Diaz induced heart attack.”

Hen giggles a little at that. Buck sounds like a middle schooler with a crush and it’s kind of adorable, if she’s honest. “He sounds like a catch.”

“He is, I don’t know what I did to end up married to him honestly,” Buck groans. “He’s so handsome and so oblivious to the fact that he’s handsome. And he’s such a bitch, but in the best way. Like the way he stands with his hands on his hips? Kill me.”

Of course Buck’s husband would be a little mean, Hen thinks to herself, though she doesn’t share that with Buck. Instead she phrases it a little differently. “Sounds like the two of you balance each other out.”

“We do,” Buck smiles automatically. “We have each other’s backs, you know.”

Hen coos at that, but before she can say more, Chimney calls out: “What are you two whispering about over there?” startling them both.

Buck gives her wide eyes, knowing that he can’t come up with a believable lie. So, Hen does it for them, calling back: “We’re trying to conspire to steal your dinner pick spot to convince Bobby to make the nice lasagna.”

“First of all, that is so rude, I can’t believe my own friends are turning against me like that. Second of all, neither of you have even had the decency to try to convince me to pick the nice lasagna,” Chimney starts an offended rant, effectively ending the conversation the two of them were just having and shelving the topic.

Hen keeps quiet about it for the whole rest of their shift, since they don’t get a moment alone again, but she doesn’t forget. That night, she sits on her own couch with a mug of tea and says: “You never guess what Buck told me today.”

“Buck? That’s the new probie guy, right?” Karen asks. “The frat boy, who was better than expected?”

“Yeah, him,” Hen says. “He asked about how long we’d been dating and if we’d already been dating when I started working there.”

“Oh no,” Karen grimaces.

“That’s what I thought,” Hen exclaims. “But, as it turns out, married. Super married. And so in love with his husband he nearly burst apart with it.”

“Husband?” Karen gasps. “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Hen nods. “Apparently he’s not comfortable being out, so you can’t tell Chimney, but he needed to tell someone. He’s a bit of an over-sharer, so I don’t know how he kept it to himself. They just moved here, so he doesn’t have anyone other than Eddie – that’s the husband’s name – to talk to it about it. He probably figured I’d be safe.”

“Ahw that’s adorable,” Karen coos. “A baby gay on the force.”

“I doubt he’s a baby gay, seeing as they have a six year old together,” Hen snorts.

“Wow, he’s a dad?” Karen says, a little shocked. “Isn’t he still a kid himself, you said he was twenty-five, right? That’s a teen parent. That must be rough.”

“Yeah, I suppose he is,” Hen says thoughtfully, she hadn’t even done that math yet. “But he said he adopted Chris and I don’t know how long they’ve been married or how old Eddie is, might be a bit of an age gap.”

“You didn’t ask!?” Karen exclaims. She loves office gossip and speculating right alongside Hen about their colleagues, it’s a way they bond.

“Chimney interrupted before I could,” Hen defends herself. “Besides, I’m not sure if I should push or let him come to me with information. I mean, he clearly didn’t want to be out at work, he just didn’t have another place to go. And you know how annoying it is when people feel entitled to information about how you got your child, since he’s not biologically yours.”

Karen groans, collapsing against the couch cushions petulantly. “Ugh, I hate it when you’re right. But you’ll tell me if he says something, right?”

“Of course, this is the best thing that happened to the 118 since Bobby became Captain,” Hen says.

In the end, it doesn’t come up again until a few shifts later when Buck is pocketing the number of a cute looking blonde with a smile, giving her a little wave as she leaves.

“What do you do with all those numbers? Do you just throw them away?” Hen is suddenly next to him asking that. She can get flirting with girls to cover the gay, but the amount Buck does seems a little excessive, not to mention that she’s seen him give out his own number too.

“No?” Buck frowns. “Sometimes I use them. That’s usually why you ask and give out your number.”

Hen looks around to see if anyone is listening in, but no one is close. So the answer can’t have been about that. Confused, she frowns back: “What happened to being too in love with Eddie Diaz to function?”

“Oh,” a realization appears on Buck’s face and he flushes with embarrassment and shame. “Uhm, Eddie’s not into that,” not into me, he swallows painfully. “We have an open marriage. It’s not like I’m sneaking around behind his back,” just maybe flirting more when he can’t see so I seem like an option, he adds again mentally.

Ah, that makes sense, Hen thinks. Eddie is probably asexual and being polyamerous would add another layer to not wanting to share. The 118 is open minded and Hen has found a lot of acceptance in her current coworkers, but there are limits to what some straight, and even other queer, people can comprehend. She understands not wanting to push those limits as the new probie.

So, she nods and says: “Makes sense. Maybe keep it off the clock, though. I think Bobby is side eyeing you about it. It’s a little unprofessional.”

Buck turns to where Bobby is. Indeed he is watching the two of them with a calculating look, eyes also flicking to where the blonde disappeared. Buck blushes a little under the scrutiny. “Noted.”

Hen doubts he noted it, when he gets fired for fucking on the job a few weeks later.

Still, just because she thinks he’s a dumbass, doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel for him. It’s rough, to get fired like that and she wishes she could do something, but he did that to himself. And she knows that expression on Bobby’s face, he’s serious and set on taking this course of action, no matter how much they all hate to see it happen.

When she sees Buck sit all alone in the locker room, she can’t help but come over. In a mirror of that conversation a few weeks ago, Buck opens, this time more defeated than awkward. “I guess you heard?”

“Yeah,” Hen says with a sympathetic look. “For what it’s worth, everyone thinks it sucks.”

“It’s my own fault.”

Hen grimaces, though she does it with kindness. “Yeah, everyone thinks that too.” She pauses for a moment, then goes on: “I’ll be honest. When Bobby first brought you on board, I told him he should just get a Dalmatian instead. But you surprised me and I’m legit sorry to see you go. I can’t imagine this will be easy to explain at home.”

“No, Eddie’s going to kill me,” Buck sighs, before groaning and burying his face in his hands. “I’m such an idiot. I can’t lose this job. Eddie doesn’t have an income and Chris can’t go without insurance, he needs medical help.”

“Is he ill?” Hen asks, suddenly concerned.

“No, CP – cerebral palsy – he needs PT, crutches, glasses, support,” Buck explains. “We can’t afford all that without insurance. How am I going to explain to Eddie that I lost our kid his insurance?”

“And Bobby wasn’t sympathetic to that at all?” Hen can’t rhyme that with the Captain she knows.

“Bobby didn’t let me explain, didn’t even let me talk,” Buck says. “And even if he did, I doubt he’d believe me. I mean, you know what everyone here thinks of me. In a moment of desperation pulling out a whole family that no one knew about with a husband, who just happens to be okay with me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, right.”

He sounds so bitter yet also so anguished and sad. Hen has never heard him like that and it makes her gut churn.

Buck sighs again and rubs his face, before he turns to her, suddenly hopeful. “Hey, maybe- maybe you can talk to him for me. Tell him I need this job. He might listen to you. You can-”

Hen doesn’t have to come up with an answer, because the alarm starts blaring, interrupting Buck before he can even finish asking.

She’s grateful for that, because she isn’t sure what to say to that. She doesn’t know how to make his case for him. They all agree he fucked up, including Buck. Unless he can show that he is an asset, Bobby can’t justify giving him another chance and, like Buck said, Hen doesn’t know if he’ll go for the surprise family story.

Bobby comes to call her away. Though she sees him give Buck an almost apologetic helpless look. He also didn’t want Buck’s career to end like this.

She knows Bobby has taken Buck under his wing. He instated him as his sous chef, worked to get him into the fold, mentors him. Bobby likes Buck. They all do, but Bobby acts pretty paternal when it comes to their probie.

However, as stated before, Bobby can’t justify giving Buck another chance. Hen can make his case, but it won’t matter. Not unless Buck can prove himself, but he can’t prove himself without a second chance. A second chance he won’t get.

It makes her stomach turn sour and it tugs at her chest.

Yeah, Buck fucked up by sleeping with yet another woman on the clock, however, he doesn’t get to defend himself and plead his case, because his relationship makes him susceptible for discrimination and misunderstanding. He doesn’t get to ask for that extra chance he doesn’t necessarily deserve, but definitely needs.

Hen knows – she just knows – that if Bobby heard about Eddie and Chris, who rely on Buck’s income, that would be enough to justify that second chance to himself.

But she also knows why Buck didn’t try harder to fight for that chance to explain himself, why he took the shut down and rolled over. Why even now, Hen isn’t sure if he would like her to out him for that small chance at keeping his job.

She herself experienced that risk every goddamn day, when she chose to be out and paid the price under Gerrard. And even though Bobby is miles better, they can never know where his limits are and Buck’s relationship is harder to rhyme with Catholicism than Hen’s, no matter how stupid infighting and respectability politics are.

So, she twists and she turns, trying to figure out if she should say something when Bobby asks her what she and Buck were talking about. Keeping it vague, while also pressing home that he needs this job and sounded serious.

In the end, she gets her solution when her phone rings and Athena asks: “I need a favor. Think you can loan me a fire truck?”

As expected, Bobby doesn’t want to fire Buck and the second Athena can vouch for him, that is enough to justify it to himself again. Hen saw that relief in his eyes when she told him what she did.

The two of them watch Bobby walk away, Buck looking as if the tension has been sucked out of him in a good way. Still, he gets a bit of his nerves back when he asks Hen: “Do you think he put in the paperwork yet and I need to be rehired, because that could mess with admin stuff, right?”

“Don’t ask me, only Cap knows that, but I don’t think he filed it yet if he managed to fill it all out,” Hen answers, unsure if Bobby can still hear them and not seeing the need to risk it. “By the way, what were you going to say, before we got called away?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter anymore now, just wanted to make my case, so you could make it to Bobby, but guess I did that for myself,” Buck replies, also sending a glance to Bobby’s back

Hen lets him have it, though she playfully threatens: “Shove off, probie. You’re still on thin ice. And you owe me for this. If I ever need a favor, I-”

“Yeah, of course, I got you,” Buck says immediately without hesitation. “Thank you so much, Hen, you’re the best.”

“I know,” Hen smirks, though a flush rises in her neck. She hip checks him and shoos him off: “Go on, get back in uniform.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Buck grins widely, skipping off.

The next day, she finds a box of homemade cookies in her locker. The icing on top of them is messily done and Hen can recognize the helping hands of a child quite clearly. She doesn’t have to think twice before she knows who put them there.

Indeed, when she looks up, she catches Buck’s eyes and he mouths: “Thank you.”

Hen gives him a smile in return, before hiding the cookies so she doesn’t have to share, or explain why she has them. As she does, she gives Buck a wink that makes him snicker softly.

When she comes home after her shift, she shares the cookies with Karen after they put Denny to bed. It is the right of a parent to hide the good snacks and Buck, as it turns out, is an incredible baker. While they munch on the cookies, she gives her the update on the whole situation.

Karen is still the only person next to Hen, who knows anything about Buck’s mysterious life outside of work.

She wants Hen to organize a play date between Denny and Chris, so she can meet Buck – or better yet – Eddie for herself. Hen can admit she’s curious too, but she’s been slowly easing her way in towards that. She doesn’t want to scare Buck off with how on the fence he’d been. Still, she thinks she’s getting closer and closer into his circle of trust.

Then Chimney gets a rebar stuck through his head and the world tilts. Chimney has been her friend for so long that she has almost forgotten what it was like to not know him. Without him, she doubts she would have made it through Gerrard’s reign of terror. He’s her rock. Her best friend and main person outside of Karen.

Her, Bobby and Buck hold vigil next to his bedside, while Hen slowly loses her patience and drives Karen up the wall with her worrying.

She’s sitting in the hospital next to Chimney’s unconscious form once more when Buck comes to sit next to her, nudging her as he says: “What a coincidence, running into you here.”

Hen gives him a tired smile, before confessing: “I’ve been driving Karen crazy with my worrying, she said I should just go here to calm me down a bit.”

“Ah,” Buck nods understandingly. “Same, kinda. Eddie kicked me out and told me to go, I’ve been driving him up the wall too. He offered to come with, but I don’t know, I’d feel awkward introducing him to an unconscious Chimney.”

“That’s fair enough,” Hen says. “Karen’s staying with Denny right now. But she’s been keeping him company while we’re all on shift, so he won’t be alone.”

Buck gets a little choked up at that, but he manages: “That’s really sweet. Thank her from me?”

“I will,” Hen assures him. “But it’s not a hardship for her. Chim is her friend too.”

“Yeah, you mentioned you knew her through him?” Buck prompts.

A sappy smile come onto Hen’s face as she says: “I did. He set us up on a blind date, though he didn’t tell me about it. I thought he’d stood me up for our drinks, but, hey, I wasn’t going to tell the beautiful woman who’d just sat down at my table that I wasn’t her blind date. I only told her at the end of the night and then she thought she got stood up by her blind date, which is when we put together that I was the blind date all along. Chim was her neighbor.”

“Really? Matchmaker Chimney? Who would have thought?” Buck laughs.

“I know right,” Hen smiles. “He caught me on my walk of shame out the door once and all he did was laugh knowingly, before asking if I wanted to carpool.” Her smile turns more melancholic and fond. “I never had anyone just accept me like that.”

Buck nods quietly, he probably understands very well. He puts a comforting arm around her and tells her: “He’s going to wake up. He’s gonna be okay. Chim’s too stubborn to let this be the thing that takes him down. He probably thinks he’s going down in a blaze of glory with explosions in the background and a movie score playing, but I have my money on old age.”

That makes Hen chuckle and she wipes her eyes. “Thanks, Buck.”

“Course,” he says, holding her a little tighter.

Talking to Buck made her feel better, but there is still so much anger at the world, so much tension as she anxiously waits for Chimney to recover.

It comes out when they’re on the call where some asshole locked a bunch of human beings, who probably paid him too much money to smuggle them across the border to have a chance to chase the American dream, in a truck. Calls like these piss her off and right now, she’s already on edge.

She and Buck work together to bring back a young boy and she is glad Buck is doing the talking to the parents. She doesn’t have the brain capacity to try and remember her high school Spanish. It doesn’t even surprise her that he talks easily to them, marrying into a family called Diaz probably means he’s surrounded by Spanish more than she is.

Before she can comment on it, however, she is distracted by the driver, who she recognizes from his driver’s license. Taking him down is satisfying, but not as satisfying as she’d hoped.

What is satisfying and exactly what she needs, is Chimney waking up that evening. They’re all relieved when he seems to understand them and is capable of reacting to their input. It can still go horribly, horribly wrong, but there are positive signs. They need positive signs.

However, they find out the hard way that positive signs doesn’t mean the positivity will last. A plane crashes and Bobby almost gets himself killed to rescue a mom. Buck too.

After nearly losing Chimney, she wants to smack Bobby and Buck for risking their lives like that. But she has a job to do and it gives her the perfect opportunity to give them the cold shoulder while she focuses on her patients until she has gotten over her fear enough to appreciate the two of them made it out alive in the first place.

She finds Buck shivering and completely soaked, still doing his job. No one told this idiot he should at least try not to develop hypothermia and she shoves a blanket into his hands with only minor frustration, before going to wrap up at the scene.

With mass casualty events like this, she always wants to hear Karen, Denny too if possible, so she calls them in the rig back to the firehouse. Some of the others are doing the same thing.

As she listens, her eye falls on Buck, who is tucked into himself in the corner, staring out of the window with a sad, wistful look in his eyes. In his lap, there is his phone, curled loosely into his hand unused. He probably wants to call Eddie and Chris, but unlike Hen, no one knows he has a family at home waiting, so he can’t.

Her heart aches a little for him and when she sees his phone start to buzz, his eyes lighting up at the contact, she ushers everyone along a little quicker. He deserves to have some peace of mind too after today.

She runs into him coming out of the shower, while he is obviously moving toward it. His shoulder seem more relaxed and his face has lost the little frown. Still, he’s shivering and his lips are a little pale. Should he drive? “Are you okay, Buck?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he smiles, looking to mean it. “Just got offered a ride, which is great. My arms feel like they’re gonna fall off.”

Hen can relate to the feeling, though she still feels up for driving. She guesses Buck doesn’t after nearly dying on a crashed plane, so Eddie is coming to get him. “I hear you, I’m gonna sleep so hard when I get home. Want me to wait on your ride with you?”

Buck’s smile brightens at her offer, however he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m gonna shower real quick, Eddie should be here by then. Besides, we had a long day. Go home to your wife, Hen.”

At that, Hen hesitates. Buck is a grown man who can make his own choices, but she still worries for him. That worry is made worse by Chimney recently nearly dying and then Buck and Bobby nearly dying. For fucks sake, he’s still in his wet, sea-logged clothes.

However, she doesn’t feel like dragging all that up and dealing with that now, like Buck said, they had a long day. So she just says: “Alright. Goodnight, Buck.”

“Goodnight.”

After that goodbye, she watches Buck retreat into the shower for a moment. He looks steady on his feet and he held a good conversation, plus he is shivering , which means he’s not too cold yet. And he’s going to shower, warm up a bit, then put on dry clothes. Buck is going to be fine.

She tells himself, he’ll be fine as she makes her way to her car, repeats it when she gets in. She truly believes it too. And she probably would have driven away, if not for the small bit of nosiness that makes her curious about how the pick up will go.

So, she sits in her car in the parking lot and waits. Karen will probably forgive her for being a little late about this. She is worried about her friend. And collecting intell.

After a while, an unfamiliar, slightly beat up truck pulls into the parking lot of the 118 firehouse. In it is a young man, around Buck’s age. The famed Eddie Diaz. He is very handsome and she doesn’t think that often of men. It seems Buck hadn’t been exaggerating too much in his dramatic little spiel about his husband.

Eddie parks, then pulls out his phone, checking it, before putting it away again. He turns to the passenger seat, swiping his hand over it, before shaking his head to himself, as if he finds what he’s doing silly. Then he appears to turn the heating up, giving himself a satisfied nod.

He looks over at the firehouse, studying it with mild interest as he waits for Buck. His eyes periodically flick over to the entrance and Hen knows Buck must have appeared when Eddie’s face lights up with a smile.

Indeed, Buck is tiredly trudging over, throwing open the door without much grace and tossing his bag on the backseat, before he collapsing in the passenger seat. The exhaustion must be catching up to him, because he appears to let out a long groan. Hen feels her own lips quirk up right alongside Eddie’s at the dramatics.

Hen doesn’t know what is being said, but Eddie says something smugly, getting a half hearted glare from Buck as he replies. Eddie then retorts, making a face as if he’s mocking someone – probably Buck – as he moves to drive off.

Despite the bickering that has obviously started up, Hen knows it’s the fond kind. She can still remember Eddie’s care in getting the car ready for Buck and the way Buck smiled when he mentioned his ride. He seems to be in safe hands with Eddie.

With her worries soothed and her curiosity satisfied, Hen also turns on the ignition and pulls out of the parking lot.

What Hen hadn’t counted on in worrying about Buck, is that she should have been worrying about Bobby instead. The man has been in this line of work for so long and has cemented himself in Hen’s mind as a reliable Captain, who knows his limits.

However, he isn’t in for shift next time. Bobby is always there for his shift. In all her years under him, Hen can’t remember a day he missed for any other reason than being sick. And he always, always called in.

Finding Bobby the way they do is absolutely heartbreaking. He is in clear need of help, of someone to be there for him.

So they’re there for him. They check up on him after rough calls, reign him in when he snaps and sit with him in the quiet hours – though none of them will ever dare to use the word quiet.

Still, they don’t know anything about him, about why he started drinking and why he stopped. Bobby has a tight grip on his personal life, but Hen now learns that might be because he doesn’t have a personal life. Just a job.

She can’t imagine what that is like, what not having people to come home to is like. She probably wouldn’t have survived some of the things she saw these past few years if she couldn’t come home and kiss Karen or watch Denny smile.

However, it is incredibly frustrating to have him remain so closed off after asking for help. They’re trying to help, they want to help. But Bobby has to let them and he’s not letting them.

Buck is seemingly unaware of the tension between her and Bobby after she had to physically pull him away from the owner of that wedding venue, who used bad material. But she is very aware and Bobby is too.

The two of them are equally stubborn, locked into this tension, seeing who is going to break first. In the end it’s Buck, that breaks them both.

He’s laughing at that damn security footage of the carwash guy. He looks so happy, so joyous, it’s infectious. Both her and Bobby have to laugh too, it’s probably the first time they’ve laughed like that since Chimney got some rebar stuck through his head and it all went to shit.

It’s the power Buck has. He probably doesn’t even know it, but he brings them all together. It’s that youthful innocence he has, the thing that made it so surprising to Hen to find out he has a kid and a husband. It’s the kind of thing most people lose after life throws shit at them time and time again, but Buck never did. It makes you want to stick by him, makes you want to make it work.

So, they all laugh at this poor guy spinning in circles and when they’re outside again, Hen tries again to break through to Bobby and this time, Bobby lets her. It’s a first step.

The second step is planning Chimney’s welcome back party, which she takes very seriously, enlisting Buck’s help. It’s a very serious operation and most give her a wide berth, but Buck matches her energy easily. Though she makes a mental note not to hand him a clipboard again.

On their shift, they find themselves brainstorming ideas. They have been banished from the upstairs table and have instead set up shop on the back of the open ambulance, sitting side by side as they bounce ideas off one another.

When a quiet moment falls, Buck looks around, before asking: “Uh, do you and Karen do children’s birthday parties for Denny? Like just his friends?”

“We do,” Hen answers, easily clicking together why Buck is asking. “Is Chris’s birthday coming up?”

“Yeah,” Buck says sheepishly at being perceived so quickly. “We, uh- we haven’t done that kind of party before and we really want this party to be a good one.”

“I get that,” Hen nods. “New city jitters about organizing or were the others a disaster?”

“Mix of both,” Buck says honestly. “I wasn’t there for his third birthday, but Eddie was still on tour on his fourth and Shannon – his mom – had walked out on him around his fifth and then during his sixth Eddie was on tour again. So, he has a bad luck streak about people missing it. And it’s the first time we’re doing this without Helena – Eddie’s mom – trying to take over the planning.”

Hen’s heart aches a little at that. It can’t have been easy for Chris, his parents missing so much. Plus, it’s news to her that Chris’s mom left. She knew Eddie was the biological father, but she had half assumed there was some sort of custody with the mom or that there was an agreement to let Eddie have full custody, but this makes it sound like she abandoned her son.

She also mentally files away that Buck had been in the picture for two years before that happened. She wonders if he got married to Eddie after Shannon left to fill the void she left, since he did mention getting married so he could adopt Chris. Or if that had been a natural par of the course. Being together for fours years isn’t nothing. He could have recently married Eddie.

However, she can’t focus on any of that right now. Buck started this conversation to ask for help getting Chris a good party and after hearing that, she can’t not help.

“Was Helena a welcome help?” she asks, because if she was, then Hen can ask what she did and offer to do it in her place.

Buck’s vehement shake of the head tells her enough, but he confirms by saying: “Oh definitely not. I don’t want to come across as that classic guy that hates his mother-in-law, but no. Her help was very much not welcome.”

Hen can feel her eyebrows rise up at the strong words. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Buck’s judgment, because he isn’t the kind of guy to talk behind people’s backs and not try to see the good in people, but she knows how in-laws can get on your nerves.

It’s just because you see all the little things that make the person you love shrink in on themselves, all the little habits that have grown between them that they don’t see, but you do. So she thinks Buck’s perspective might be warped, causing her to sound a little skeptical when she asks: “That bad?”

“She calls Chris ‘special,’ which is her upgrade from ‘fragile.’ It’s a battle to get her to treat him like a kid and not a baby and that’s not even mentioning her hatred for my existence and the way she talks about Eddie’s parenting. Or Eddie’s choices in general,” Buck grimaces.

Immediately she cringes when Buck mimics the tone his mother-in-law uses when she says special. It is something she hears here and there from parents when they go on medical calls and it always sets her teeth on edge.

Then it somehow gets worse when Buck explains how she views him and Eddie. With that start, she didn’t think it would get worse. “Oh, homophobic?”

“Very,” Buck replies. “But at least she was willing to get past the whole married to a man thing to help when Eddie was on tour, though I think that was because she thought she’d have a better chance at taking custody of Chris that way.”

He sounds so casual about it and it breaks Hen’s heart. The possibility of losing custody is a terrifying thing and the fact that it’s the grandmother trying, when Hen cannot imagine a world wherein Buck doesn’t love that kid to death – and probably wouldn’t marry anyone who didn’t feel the same – makes it so much worse.

And the fact that he tries to give her credit for the fact that she’s ‘willing to look past the whole married to a man thing’ makes her blood boil. It also makes her realize that she’s never heard Buck about his own family, he vaguely mentioned Eddie’s tía and abuela once, but never his own. The realization makes a her gut churn.

She goes for a more nonchalant tone than she feels when she asks: “Would your parents not be able to look past it?”

Buck blinks for a second, as if he hadn’t even thought about that before. Then his face shutters closed and he fails at acting like it doesn’t bother him as he says: “Oh, I don’t know, it was always okay for others to be gay, we just didn’t do that. But they’d probably think I’m making the biggest mistake of my life regardless, letting myself get dragged down by a teen parent, even though I was already twenty-three when I met Eddie and started helping out with Chris full time. I wouldn’t know though, haven’t spoken to them in years.”

It’s the kind of story she’s heard a million times before and she wishes they’d stop, but alas, the world isn’t like that yet. Her own mom thought she was making a mistake when she married Karen, they’re in a better place now, but she can still remember that hurt.

The fact that Buck hasn’t spoken to them since before meeting Eddie and that he seemingly never even considered of informing them or having them know, says a lot about their relationship.

Wanting to do something, but knowing she can’t just undo things like this, she slings her arm around his shoulder and pulls him into her side, saying: “If they did think that, they wouldn’t know what they’re talking about. You’re not making a mistake, Buck. It’s never a mistake to be gay.”

“I’m bi,” Buck tells her.

Hen isn’t even bothered by his clear lack of knowing how to reply to that, so she just snorts: “That’s okay too.”

He lights up at that and Hen squeezes him again before letting go. It became a heavier topic than expected and she clears her throat, before she says: “But kid’s birthday party.”

“Yes, uh-huh, birthday party,” Buck nods, looking glad for the way out. “Chris likes science and animals. I’m thinking something themed, but I don’t know how to go about it. We didn’t do kid’s birthday parties growing up.”

Hen imparts as much knowledge as she can to Buck from her own experience throwing kid’s birthday parties – even if Karen wields the spreadsheets when they’re planning like no other – and they even come up with a good idea for Chim’s welcome back party when talking about theme-ing and food; a custom cake of his head.

Chimney’s welcome back party goes well, the cake is done one time and everyone from the A and B shift is there. Athena shows up too. Everyone has a good time.

And Buck later reports, sneaking in a thankful hug, as does: “Chris’s party was a success. Thank you. Now just surviving the full moon tonight and then the family party with the in-laws this weekend, and then we’ll have made it through.”

“Oh, I’m so glad!” Hen hugs him back. Before asking: “Is that why you have that weekend off while we’re on shift?”

“Yeah, I contemplated skipping out, but I’m not going to do that to Eddie,” Buck says.

“Well, if you need a place to hide out from the in-laws, you can always hide out at mine. Karen won’t mind the company,” Hen smiles.

“That’s very sweet, thanks. But they’re only here for the weekend, I can survive until Sunday afternoon,” Buck says.

“Okay, but good luck anyway,” Hen jokes, making Buck laugh.

When Eva calls, Hen decides she needs a bit of that luck for herself. Because she feels that urge to come when Eva calls and she doesn’t know why she wants to help her, even though she’s done nothing to deserve that help. Wonders why she allows herself to come close to getting caught up in Eva’s plan all over again.

It’s as if a part of her is still that stupid naive young woman she was with her, who didn’t see that her own girlfriend was dealing, until she was face down on her own floor, cops yelling at her. That desperate young woman, who just needed Eva to look at her. As if she still needs her to just look at her.

She feels that urge to go, gets into her car and puts the address into her navigation. She’s about to drive off when she spots Buck in the parking lot, making his way to his car. He catches her eye and gives her a big smile, waving at her, before giving her a thumbs up.

Without any conscious input, she smiles back and gives him a thumbs up back. He survived the full moon, now just the weekend with his in-laws.

Suddenly it hits her, that she is about to not survive the full moon, that she is about to allow someone like Eva back into her life, in her family’s life. Buck still has to make it through the weekend with awful people, but Hen doesn’t have to do that. She can go home and kiss her wife, maybe even be on time to tuck in Denny.

That small broken part that just needs to be acknowledge by Eva, feels so small when she realizes what she has.

Hen turns on the ignition and drives home.

At home, Karen is in the kitchen making herself a mug of tea. No, she’s making two mugs of tea. One is for Hen, because she knew she’d be home soon. She turns around and smiles at her. “Full moon as crazy as you’d feared?”

“Crazier,” Hen says, letting out a relieved breath, she hadn’t realized she was holding. Then she surges forward and kisses Karen as passionately as she can.

When they break apart, Karen lets out a confused giggle, asking: “What was that for?”

“Just happy that I have you,” Hen answers. She doesn’t know how to put into words the last few hours of feeling, just that she is happy that Karen is there.

“You’re sure nothing happened at work?” Karen asks.

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Hen says. “Eva called.”

Karen tenses in her arms and her voice gets an odd tone as she replies: “Oh. And- And what did she want?”

“She wanted me to meet her,” Hen looks at the clock on the oven, “right about now.” She looks back at Karen and smiles. “I personally thought, I had better places to be.”

“Well, I do agree with that.” Karen perks up with a blush and a happy uptick in her voice, before leaning in and kissing Hen again.

After they tucked Denny in, the two of them spend the rest of the evening on the couch, yelling at trashy reality TV shows as they wrap themselves around each other. The next day, Hen catches up on house work, before heading in for her shorter shift on Friday.

Buck is a little tense all day. Hen clearly picks up on it, but she supposes that is because she knows he has a reason to be worried. All the others appear not to notice, until they’re done with their shift and Buck’s civilian clothes are nicer than the ones he usually leaves the station in. Not to mention the way he’s messing with his hair in the mirror.

Hen wants to give him some encouraging words, but it’s not the time. A fact that is exemplified by Chim, who stops as he walks by and asks: “Who are you cleaning up nice for?”

“No one,” Buck lies. Like, very clearly lies. It must be hard, trying to keep a secret like that when you’re that bad at lying.

To throw him a lifeline, Hen asks: “You have a hot date or something? Called back one of those numbers?”

“Ahhh,” Chimney waggles his eyebrows. “Spill. Come on. You can tell us. It’s not like we haven’t heard about your sex life in great detail, don’t tell me you’re shy when it comes to the dates.”

Buck’s pale skin clearly shows his bright blush and Hen can’t help but tease a little. She coos: “Ahw, he is shy,” causing that blush to deepen.

His watch seems to give him the out he needs, because after checking it, he says: “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Now, I have a hottie to pick up and I don’t want to be late,” before hightailing out of there, so they can’t ask more questions.

Hen decides to send him a text of support before going home. There is nothing more for her to do and unlike Buck, she only gets enough hours off to get some sleep in before she has to be right back.

Next to her, Chimney comments: “Didn’t he take the weekend off too? Lucky bastard is probably going to get laid.”

“Probably,” Hen snorts, amused at Chimney’s perception of Buck. She doesn’t blame him too much, without him coming out to her, she likely would have thought the same.

They don’t hear from Buck all weekend. Hen hopes that’s a good sign, but she feels apprehensive as they wait for Buck to come in when he’s joining them for their shift again. A feeling that gets proven right when she sees his slumped shoulders as he throws himself onto a chair.

Everyone picks up on it. Chimney speaks before she does, taking one look at Buck, before he whistles: “Oef, bad date?”

“You can say that,” Buck groans as he takes the mug of coffee Bobby offers him and slumps down over the breakfast bar.

Oh, that doesn’t sound good at all. Hen grimaces in sympathy, unsure what to do. If she didn’t know, she’d be nosing about, but she knows that he doesn’t want to talk about it and that he’s a horrible liar, so won’t be able to come up with anything.

“What happened?” When Hen doesn’t ask, Bobby does, sounding more concerned and less invested than she would have been, though a little bit of investment is still there anyway.

Hen sees Buck freeze for a split second, uncertainty in his eyes, before he quickly settles on: “The parents came by. They hate me.”

“That sucks,” Hen says gently, hoping he catches on to the comfort it’s meant to be. Going off the small smile he sends her, that message is received.

Chimney however, just raises his brow in surprise and a little offense. “That sounds serious.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone like that, why didn’t you mention it?” Bobby asks.

“But that’s it, I’m not. We’re not even dating,” Buck mopes and Hen’s eyebrows rise, half impressed, half amused by the spin Buck is giving this. She supposes that technically it’s not a lie, she wouldn’t say she’s dating Karen, she married her.

Luckily, before Buck can be interrogated further and pushed to a place where he can’t deflect anymore, the alarm goes and they all have to rush into their turn out gear, all of them complaining about not getting to eat breakfast instead of focusing on Buck’s problems.

She doesn’t get a chance to talk to him on the call itself, but all can see his mind is elsewhere. Chim at one point slides up next to her and nods at Buck, joking: “His marathon sex probably got interrupted, so the post-nut clarity never came.”

“Shut up,” Hen giggles, feeling a little bad for laughing when she knows it isn’t true.

Before she can try and stop him, while the others go up in the crowd upstairs when they get back, Buck is already gone too.

When she gets upstairs, he’s standing next to Bobby, taking over half the chopping work. Hen can’t blame him, she gets needing to do something with your hands to get your mind off things. So, Hen lets him have that and instead focuses on beating Chimney at cards.

A little while later, she looks up and Buck and Bobby are talking. Unable to help her nosy nature and wanting to be a good friend, she goes and grabs some coffee, listening in.

She clearly missed the start, because when she gets close, Bobby is just saying: “Hey, come on, kid. Look at me.”

His tone indicates that there is about to be some sort of fatherly advice or heart to heart. He’s clearly taken a shine to Buck and she suddenly wonders if she should be listening in on this. She chances a glance over and Buck is tentatively looking at Bobby. He looks scared and she knows she can’t let him face this alone. What if the part she missed was him coming out?

Bobby looks back kindly and says: “You’ve come a long way from the punk that walked in here. If you want things, like closeness, intimacy, trust, those things don’t come for free. Any woman you’ll meet has lived a life and she’s gonna come with some baggage. You’re ready for that, if you want that. But it sounds like you’re hoping to pull her out of this trap she’s in with her family. That’s not going to happen. What she needs is for you to step inside with her, keep her company in there. You can do it.”

Okay, so Buck didn’t come out. She cringes slightly at the words because of it, however, it’s clear Buck needed some sort of affirmation. She’s slightly glad Bobby did it for her. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be there for her friends, she does, but she doesn’t want to parent Buck. He’s her adult friend, not her son.

And it’s clear the words are something Buck needed to hear, because he says: “Thanks, Bobby.”

Bobby seems to sense that this is the end of the conversation and just gives him a paternal nod, before holding out a hand for the vegetables Buck cut. Buck smiles as he hands them over, Hen decides that they’re fine and retreats with her coffee.

She doesn’t manage to catch him all shift and he’s out of there like the wind once it ends. Probably desperate to go home and spend time with his family without his in-laws there, Hen thinks. She’ll ask about it all later.

Later, as it turns out, is next shift, where she has to watch Buck desperately fail to defend himself on giving dating advice and failing because he’s not ready to tell them all he’s married. Hen tries to back him up a little, but can’t too explicitly. Fortunately, they’re all saved from the train wreck of a conversation by the alarm going off.

When they get back, Chimney is eager to continue to offer his help to Bobby, following him out of the rig as Bobby tries to flee from him.

It gives Hen an opportunity. She starts out by saying: “That was an odd call. I mean, dead guy at a psychic’s place, who isn’t dead. Karen will love that.”

“Yeah, Eddie and Chris will get a kick out of it too,” Buck nods as he smiles, before it drops. “Though, it’s gonna be a while until I can tell them about it.”

“What do you mean?” Hen asks confused. They’re going to be home just after dinner and they’ll have time for breakfast before their 24 hour on Thursday, he’d find the time, right? Maybe Eddie is healed up enough to pick up a job again, but she’s sure she would have heard about that. She knows a lot about Eddie for a man she’s never met before. Buck likes talking about him.

“We thought they were staying for a weekend, but they were staying for the week,” Buck tells her with a grimace. “Since we’re so adamant to take their grandbaby so far away from them and all that.”

Hen’s eyes widen at that and she chokes: “For real?”

“Uh-huh, it’s been horrible,” Buck nods. “Eddie slept on the couch until Monday because his father made a stupid comment about Eddie becoming a kept man, I half expected to come home to divorce papers. Which honestly, wasn’t too far fetched, because apparently they were pushing Eddie to divorce me and he left them in a restaurant to Uber back, which is what finally made him want to out stubborn them and come to bed.”

“What?” Hen chokes.

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing. Hopefully they’ll behave at dinner tonight,” Buck sighs, before trying to find the silver lining. “But Chris is excited about his grandparents being in town and he hasn’t been too thrown off about how they’re treating them, though he said he’ll be happy to be eating popcorn again when they’re gone. They probably made a comment about that when they were watching a movie with him on Sunday. I kinda let that one be.”

“That’s sure something,” Hen says, voice a little high with wtf-ness. She can’t imagine her mom pushing her to divorce Karen or getting so much under her skin that she’d sleep on the couch about it. Unable to help herself, she asks: “Is Eddie that insecure about himself? That he’d sleep on the couch?”

“He usually isn’t and he’s actively trying to do better for Chris, but Ramon just gets to him. Helena too,” Buck assures her. “They’ve been practicing getting under his skin since he was a kid and by god, they’re good at it. One of these days they’re gonna go too far and I’m gonna have to do something, but we kind of agree that when it comes to family, you have the last call when it’s yours.”

“Still, that sucks,” Hen sympathizes.

“It does,” Buck agrees. “Can’t wait for it to be Friday, so I can stuff them on a plane.”

Before the conversation can continue, Chimney calls down from the loft: “What are you two gossiping about? Doesn’t matter. Help me convince Bobby to set him up.”

“We should probably go rescue Bobby, shouldn’t we?” Hen says.

“Yeahhh.” Buck starts doing a little jog towards the stairs and Hen follows after.

The rest of their shift goes mercifully well. As Hen leaves the locker room to go home, she squeezes Buck’s shoulder and pats him on the back. The two exchange a silent nod.

She gets home, late enough that Denny’s already asleep, but she knows there will be an extra plate left for her. As she makes her way to the kitchen, she already starts talking: “Babe, I love you so much and I need to tell you how much I appreciate your parents, because you will never guess what Buck- Karen?”

Karen is sitting at the kitchen table, looking shaken as she holds a letter. Hen cautiously steps into the room, frowning: “Did something happen?”

“Eva- uhm, she’s- she’s suing for custody. Of Denny,” Karen says after clearing her throat.

“What? How?” Hen exclaims, quickly walking forward to snatch up the letter to see for herself. She isn’t truly reading the words, though, just staring at the page. “She gave up that right.”

“She claims she was forced to do it. That she was in a bad place and wanted what was best for Denny, but now that she’s in a better place, she wants him back,” Karen explains.

“That’s bullshit!” Hen rages. “She can’t just do that.”

“We have the papers, she’s at least trying,” Karen sighs. “As happy as I am, you didn’t go meet with her, I’m now wondering if we could avoided this. If she wanted something else we could have provided and this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey, don’t. Trust me, don’t do that to yourself,” Hen says gently, sitting down next to her and hugging her into her side. “This is what she wants. How she works. She pushes, makes you question herself, makes you want to do things for her. Don’t fall for it. I did too many times, never turned out well for me.”

“I know, it’s just scary.”

“It is,” Hen agrees, squeezing Karen again. “But we’ll get through it. We always have. If all else fails, we fake our deaths, take Denny and run.”

That makes Karen chuckle. “I don’t know if being wanted criminals would help our case, but I’d become a fugitive with you.” She nudges Hen and when Hen looks into her eyes, she’s smiling again, a hopeful sparkle in there.

Hen smiles back, overtaken with how much she loves the woman she has in her arms.

After a moment, Karen breaks the moment, clearing her throat and asking: “But this is a thing to worry about in the morning. What did you want to tell me about Buck that made you appreciate my mother of all people. I know you’ve had your differences.”

“Yeah, but listen to this. Buck’s in-laws – I told you about how horrible they are, right? – they’re staying for the whole week. Not just the weekend,” Hen gossips. “And it’s so bad. I didn’t realize how bad it could get.”

Invested, Karen asks: “What happened?”

“Apparently they are pushing Eddie to divorce Buck, because they’re homophobic and they made a bunch of comments that got under Eddie’s skin, so he slept on the couch. The couch,” Hen says. “I can’t imagine what kind of relationship you have to have with your parents that they can get to you that badly. I can’t really come up with anything that would get me to that point.”

“Oh, that is bad. What did Buck say about all of that?”

“He seems to be staying positive about it. Probably helps that Eddie slept in the bed again after the divorce conversation with his parents. And he says Chris likes that his grandparents are in town. I would grit my teeth through a lot too if it made Denny happy…” Hen says, trailing off at then end when she mentions Denny.

Karen sighs, eyes falling back on the letter. “Me too.”

Hen recognizes the look she gets on her face the longer she looks at that letter. “Alright.” Hen pats her leg. “I’m gonna warm up my left overs and then we’re devising a game plan while I eat. You’re not going to be able to sleep otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” Karen says, sending her a guilty look.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Hen pecks her on the lips. “Want me to get your laptop while I’m up so you can make a dedicated folder?”

“Yes, please.”

They stay up later than they should have and Hen sleeps badly with all the thoughts running through her head. She ends up coming into work early, just to get away from the way her mind is spinning. But she forgot that there was the possibility that no one would really be there, so she finds herself sitting morosely at the table alone.

She gets pulled from her thoughts by an equally exhausted looking Buck, who pours her a coffee, before he sits down too. She smiles gratefully at him. “Thanks.”

“So what kept you up tonight?” he asks after she has taken a few sips.

“Eva,” Hen sighs after a moment. “She’s suing me and Karen for custody of Denny. Is claiming we forced her to hand him over, as if she wasn’t itching to sign over custody from the moment she’d given birth.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Buck takes a seat next to her. “Does she have any basis for her case? How did you get custody of Denny?”

“I mean, she was able to file,” Hen says, slightly doubtful. “She just got out of prison, but she seems to be picking her life up. At the time she said she didn’t know who the father was, signed over full custody to me, so I could take care of him with Karen. She adopted him too. He’s ours, has been since birth. But who knows. It’s not as if court systems are in the favor of people like me and Karen.”

“Hey, don’t go there. Signing over custody – and straight away too – that means something. It’s hard for parents to get that back when they give it up. You and Karen are his parents, Denny knows that as well as you do. Any person who meets you will know that too,” Buck tells her with conviction.

“I hope so,” Hen sighs. “Is that something you think about? Chris’s mom coming back?” She can guess why he knows why signing over custody means something.

“It’s different,” Buck answers. “She raised Chris for four years mostly by herself, since Eddie was off in the service. He remembers her. He cried his whole fifth birthday because she didn’t come home to celebrate with us. Asked about her when he had to get surgery. If she’d want to have a place in his life again, I’d be cautious before letting her, but if Eddie was okay with it, I’d let her come back.”

“I can’t image leaving Denny behind when he was four. Not now either,” Hen says.

“And you’re not going to have to,” Buck assures her. “And Shannon had her reasons. I’ll never forgive her for leaving Chris the ways she did, I mean, he was four and she didn’t even say goodbye. He woke up and mommy was gone. Forever. But she’d been raising him all by herself for the most part, no family nearby, surrounded by a town who outwardly hated her. When Eddie was back and ready to take care of him, she left. Went to take care of her mom. Cancer. I get why she would.”

Even though he can never understand. He withstood those years of Helena’s hatred and Ramon’s disdain, a town full of rumors that didn’t want him there either. And those were still a few of his best years, but not everyone is the same, he guesses.

“Wow, that’s something,” Hen whistles. “I suppose that is a lot for one person. Still, I couldn’t do it, I love Denny too much.”

“And the court knows that. Eva doesn’t stand a chance. She no longer has a claim on him. And if she does genuinely want a role in his life again, it’ll be years before she’s proven herself, and even then, he will not just be taken from you two,” Buck says.

Hen she smiles and says: “Thank you, Buck. I needed to hear that.”

“It’s okay, having people in your corner makes it all easier to deal with. The people at this firehouse are in your corner,” Buck says honestly.

“You’re a sweet kid. I’m glad to have you at this house,” Hen tells him a rush of affection coming over her.

“Thanks,” he beams at her.

“So, how is the week with the in-laws going? You didn’t exactly look very happy yourself either,” Hen changes topics.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Buck groans. “I actually kicked them out of the house yesterday. Drove them to Abuela’s, so Ramon could explain to his mom how he overstayed his welcome.”

“Holy shit,” Hen exclaims. “What did they do?”

At the reminder, Buck puffs up with offense again. “Tried to convince us to give them custody, because our work hours are too inconsistent and we can’t provide a stable home for him. And then! Then she had the nerve to tell Eddie to, and I quote, ‘not drag Chris down with you,’ the fucking nerve of that. Eddie has devoted his life to Chris’s well being. He’s lifting him up. Who says that to their own kid?”

“What the hell,” Hen swears. Her opinion of these in-laws was already spectacularly low, but every time she hears of them, she gets disappointed more.

“I know,” Buck exclaims. “I couldn’t let them get away with that. Luckily Eddie wasn’t upset with me kicking them out while he was off putting Chris back in bed again – the yelling woke him up – and we’re going to be rid of them tomorrow. They’re doing breakfast with us so they can say goodbye to Chris, before we’re dropping them off at the airport.”

“You’re letting them back into your house after they said that?” Hen asks disbelievingly.

“If it were up to me, no, but Eddie wants them there. And I respect that. It’s for Chris’s sake. Goodbyes are important to him,” Buck says and Hen remembers what he just told her about Shannon. “And Eddie will always forgive them. They never deserve it, but he always does. I try to carry the grudge for both of us, because he can’t.”

“That’s very mature and kind of you, Buck. Eddie’s lucky to have you in his corner,” Hen says.

“I’m just happy that he lets me have his back,” Buck smiles back.

It melts Hen’s heart. It’s a sweet sentiment and she feels very privileged that Buck lets her peak into this part of his life. However, she doesn’t know how to verbalize that and the day is starting too. So, she just shoulder bumps him fondly, before draining her coffee and going to greet Chimney, who is just coming up the stairs.

The rest of their shift rolls by smoothly with some medical calls and a small fender bender. It’s a medium shift, not too quiet – though Hen would never use that word – nor too busy. A perfectly good shift all in all. Both her and Buck can use it after the night they’ve had.

At breakfast the Friday morning, Hen is the only one, who isn’t confused Buck is half standing as he shoves the final bites of breakfast in his mouth when he usually enjoys family meals the most, often hanging around for a bit after too.

Chimney even asks: “What? You got a breakfast date or something?”

“If you want to call it that,” Buck snorts, making Hen bite her lip in amusement as the other make their own assumptions about what he means, before she calls out a goodbye at his back, while he makes his way downstairs, then out of the firehouse.

Next shift, Buck comes in and seems lighter. It’s not as if his in-laws have disappeared, but it’s clear the direct stress is gone. However, they all notice he has gotten busier. He often flies out of the firehouse and has claimed a few personal emergencies in the middle of the day; often school pick up time, Hen notices.

After one of such personal emergencies, Hen happens to catch him as he’s coming in while she’s restocking the ambulance. She asks: “Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” he assures her, a little out of breath.

“You sure? That’s the third emergency. Is it something serious? You know you can talk to us right? We have each other’s backs here, remember?”

At that, he smiles brightly, perking up. “I know. Just pick up. I feel a little bad, but Eddie started the fire academy and tía Pepa works and Abuela doesn’t drive, so it’s a bit chaotic right now trying to get care for Chris organized.”

“Eddie’s becoming a fire fighter?” Hen asks, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, my stories won him over,” Buck grins. “And he has a lot of transferable skills, army medic and all that.”

“Wish him luck from me,” Hen says. “And if you ever need someone to watch Chris, he’s more than welcome in our home.”

“Thank you so much,” Buck says gratefully. “Need some help stocking that?”

“And hand you a clipboard? No thanks,” Hen jokes. “I’m pretty sure Bobby started on dinner, go bother him.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Buck salutes, before walking off and Hen watches him go with a fond smile.

A few weeks later and their probie Buck, is a probie no more. It’s oddly melancholic to be at his shield ceremony, as if he’s their kid, who is suddenly all grown up. Maybe it’s because they’ve seen him grow so much in his time here, maybe it’s because he’s good at getting into your heart and making himself at home there.

The only people that come to his ceremony are the tía and Abuela he mentioned. Both of them are Eddie’s family, though they don’t say they are. There is no one other family for Buck, no Eddie, no Chris, no parents. No one.

It reminds Hen partly of her own wedding, partly of her first office party all the way back when she first started out, which is a weird mix.

She knows his parents are homophobic and he doesn’t even talk to them, but it must still hurt anyway that they aren’t here to celebrate this big thing with him. That there are those empty chairs – however metaphoric in this case – where they’re supposed to be there, but aren’t

And she knows how painful it must be, to not be able to celebrate this with your child and your husband. The people you share your life with, but aren’t ready to share with the world.

Hen wants to say something, give him some sort of encouragement or understanding. Solidarity perhaps, or comfort. However, he’s continuously surrounded by others and she doesn’t get the words in.

That evening, she burrows her face into Karen’s stomach and hugs her tightly, just breathing in her scent and being grateful for what she has. For the fact that she has always been there. That she was able to work through all the things that made it feel impossible to share.

She would never push someone to out themselves if they weren’t comfortable and she doesn’t know the entirety of Buck’s situation. Still, in that moment, she sends a hope out into the universe, that one day, Buck can have that too.

A few shifts later, Hen’s perception of Buck, is turned inside out.

Buck seems a little nervous when he comes in, glancing around and seeming surprised when he spots them when they start talking to him. The conversation turns to body fat when they bring up that stupid calendar, something Buck has been getting really into and he seems like himself when he rambles, until that conversation devolves into something else.

Then Chimney cuts it all off, getting distracted by something as he comments: “Okay that, is a beautiful man.”

Hen follows his gaze, curious to see what sort of man could have evoked that comment, only to do a double take when she actually sees him. The man is, objectively, certainly beautiful, fitting the beauty standard to a T. However, that is not what makes her double take; what makes her double take, is that she is pretty sure she’s seen this man before, namely in the truck that came to pick Buck up after the plane crash.

Immediately, her eyes shoot to Buck, who is also looking back to see who Chimney pointed out. But his gaze doing a complicated something that makes him look longing, scared and pissed off? It settles on pissed off, as he says: “Who the hell is that?”

Now Hen is only more confused, but she tells herself that maybe she saw wrong. It was dark after all and she only saw Eddie briefly in the dim light of the car. No matter how sure she was. Maybe Buck is pissed off, because he saw the similarity too, but it’s not his husband?

All that gets thrown out the window, when Bobby says: “That’s Eddie Diaz, new recruit. Graduated top of his class just this week. Guys over at station 6 were dying to have him, but I convinced him to join us.”

He continues talking about Eddie’s accomplishments, but Hen tunes him out in favor of trying to catch Buck’s eyes. When she does, she sends him a ‘wtf’- look, trying to ask with her eyes, if she is seeing what she thinks she is seeing and why the hell Buck is acting this way towards his husband, and why he’s not saying anything.

Buck catches her eye and suddenly remembers that he forgot one, very crucial detail when he and Eddie came up with their scheme.

Fuck, this complicates things. He needs Hen to not blow this for them and he sends her a pleading look that hopefully conveys to her that she should play along. If she blows this scheme and reveals to Eddie that Buck is madly in love with him, he’ll have to change his name and move to a different continent again.

His urge to create as much distance between him and Eddie only grows and before he knows what he’s doing, he hears himself saying: “What do we need him for?”

Internally he cringes at both himself and the raised brow Hen is giving him. However, she doesn’t say anything about what she knows as the others laughs and keeps quiet when they all go to greet Eddie, Buck following after them all with apprehension tight in his chest.

Hen is pretty sure she weirds Eddie out slightly with how closely she’s studying him, even if her hello is totally normal.

She certainly catches the confused look he gives Buck when he appears behind him, having set himself on being strangely defensive. Is everything going okay at home? He did mention thinking he’d get divorced, so maybe something happened on that front? Or he just doesn’t want to work with Eddie? Which Hen doesn’t get. He seems like the guy that would love to work with his spouse. She would.

“Eddie, this is Buck,” Bobby says. “Buck this is Eddie. He’ll be your partner in the field from now on, I expect you to keep him in the loop.”

Hen doesn’t know what she’s expecting, maybe a crack in the facade, an ‘ahh, I’m just joking’ and an explanation. Or at least some sort of acknowledgment. However, instead Buck just nods curtly and says: “Yes, Cap.”

Her eyes swing to Eddie, curious to see what he will do. But it seems that he is either just going along with whatever Buck is doing or there actually is some tension between them, because he is way more polite with Buck as he greets him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Buck says, a word he has never said before.

This whole thing is weird and everyone is picking up on it, not just Hen. Sure, they all remember the cocky Buck from the early days, who could balk at authority from time to time and be a bit of a dick sometimes. This, though, is very unlike him. He loves talking to people and meeting them. He’s a godsend on most cases where they need to keep people calm or do crowd control.

Before, they can figure out what’s happening, the alarm goes and they have to abandon this mystery in favor of getting into their gear.

On the rig there, it’s clear Chimney has interpreted the tension as Buck being territorial and starting a pissing contest with the new guy. Hen doesn’t think that’s it. She is pretty sure now she hadn’t been making it up when she recognized Eddie and they’re in the rig with Buck’s husband. However, she’s not going to say anything until she knows more and instead chooses to help Chimney tease Buck while observing the reactions to try and gather more information.

When they get to the call, her focus is primarily on the patient, though she observes Eddie to be competent and easy to work with. Buck wasn’t just bragging, which is good. Hen likes working with competent people.

Though she’s not sure if she can hang out with Eddie on the clock in the long term without saying anything about the weird vibe between him and Buck and the knowledge she has.

At some point, Buck goes to puncture Hector’s chest cavity and then Eddie takes over. Watching it, Hen isn’t sure if they’re very well in tune with each other to the point they don’t mind the way they’re communicating – well, barely communicating – or if there is tension and they’re being curt. Buck might be a horrible liar, but he might just be a great actor.

They give Eddie their complements on a job well done and Hen looks back to see Buck doing the same, though he sounds a little condescending. However, when she glances at his face, there is a glint of humor in his eyes and the way Eddie gives him a deadpan look in return can only be described as fond. Definitely married and playing at something, she decides.

It takes everything in her to not explode and blurt something out on the way back. And she is so grateful to Chimney, who leads Eddie away under his arms to show him the magic of Bobby’s cooking, so she can yank Buck into a supply closet.

“I know that is your husband right there, don’t even try to lie to me. Eddie Diaz, Eddie Diaz. The names match. And I waited to see if you got picked up that one time, and he looks exactly like that guy that came for you,” Hen says, before Buck can even recover from the disorientation.

“Wait, you waited for Eddie to come pick me up?” is all Buck says in his confusion.

“Not the point, Buckley,” Hen hisses. “Why are you pretending you don’t know your own husband? In fact, why are you acting like you don’t even like the man? Love him, actually.”

“Okay, I can explain that.”

“Please do!”

“So-” Buck starts, then immediately stops. “You see-” he pauses again. “It seemed like a good idea when we came up with it.”

“You’re doing this on purpose?” Hen says, still confused. Though she supposes that’s good. It would be kind of weird if Buck had decided on the fly not to know Eddie and Eddie just went along with it without any questions.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s on purpose,” Buck chuckles awkwardly. “Eddie got the offer and we know we work well together and this house is a good one – I mean, you hear the horror stories about the hazing – but then we kind of realized, they would retract the offer if we tried to do the paperwork, since Eddie is a probie, not a full firefighter. Besides, I never told anyone about Eddie either – except for you, which I kind of forgot, until today – so it would invite a lot of questions. And it would get confusing and weird, since we are married, but we’re not really together-”

“What?”

“What what?” Buck repeats, seeming taken aback by her reaction, meanwhile Hen is still internally blue-screening and reeling.

“What do you mean you’re not really together? Are you two getting divorced?” Hen exclaims

“I mean, at some point, yeah, we’re getting divorced,” Buck says, frowning. “Me and Eddie aren’t dating, never have. He’s straight.”

“Straight?”

“Yeah, straight. We got married for convenience,” Buck confirms, in a tone that clearly conveys he doesn’t know why she keeps freaking out. “Did you not know that?”

“How was I supposed to know that!” Hen yells, before lowering her volume so no one comes to check up on them in the supply closet. “You just told me you were in love with your husband and rambled about him and your son, being all mushy. What about that screams, we’re friends and he’s straight?”

“Ah, uhm- well…” Buck turns a bright red and looks anywhere but her face as he admits: “I am kind of very much in love with him, he just doesn’t know that. He- he probably- maybe- kind of also thinks I’m straight?”

“Oh my god.” Hen is actually speechless for a moment trying to piece all she knows back together into this new picture, Buck just painted.

Instead of a married bi guy with a family, he loves, but wasn’t ready to be out at work. He is a married bi guy with a family that he loves, but his husband is straight and they got married as friends with the plans to divorce – now him saying they got married so he could adopt Chris is put in a different light too – but he is in love with him, but the guy doesn’t know.

“Please don’t tell him,” Buck says anxiously.

“Of course I’m not going to tell him,” Hen hisses. “I’m processing.”

“Okay,” Buck replies faintly.

Hen takes a moment, before saying: “Okay, so tell me if I got this right. You married Eddie, as friends, to adopt Chris and with the plan to get divorced?”

“Yes.”

“But you aren’t divorced yet.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And now you’re working together here and you did not tell anyone at HR or Bobby or anyone, that you two are married.”

Buck nods.

“Because you aren’t together like that anyway?”

Buck nods again.

“But you are in love with Eddie, he just doesn’t know and he’s straight.”

“Yup,” Buck squeaks.

“And you’re not going to tell him?”

“No!” Buck exclaims loudly, before quieter repeating: “No, no. He can’t know. It’ll make it all weird and he’ll realize I’ve been kind of making myself necessary, so he doesn’t divorce me, because I like being married to him, even if it’s not like that. And that is a little weird. And then he’ll know and he’ll leave me forever and I’ll never get to see Chris again.”

“Okay, okay, breathe, Buck, breathe,” Hen guides him when he starts spiraling. He follows her steady breaths until he calmed down a little and she soothes: “He’s not just going to leave you. I won’t tell him you’re in love with him.”

“Thank you,” Buck manages to get out.

They stand in the quiet supply closet for a moment, the feint cleaning supply smell permeating the air along with the slightly dampened noise from outside. Buck calming down, Hen sorting her thoughts.

After a few beats, Hen says: “So what is your plan with hating Eddie?”

“I panicked,” Buck grimaces. “I just saw him and Chimney was saying he is beautiful – and he is – but saying that felt like me proclaiming I’m in love with him, so I couldn’t, so I just kind of did the opposite of that and now I’m stuck.”

“God, you’re hopeless,” Hen mutters.

“You have to help me.”

“I’m not going to help you!”

“Why not? You’d be so good at it.”

“Buck, I’m not going to help you lie to Bobby, HR and basically everyone! You two can get in serious trouble for that.”

“So you’re gonna tell Bobby?” Buck asks, looking like a kicked puppy.

Hen inhales a sharp, annoyed breath, because fuck, this kid gets to her. Then she sighs: “No. I’m not going to tell Bobby.”

Immediately Buck perks up and hugs her. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t cheer yet. I’m not getting involved in this little act you and Eddie have going on either,” she says, jabbing her finger at him.

“Understood, ma’am,” Buck agrees without hesitation.

“Good. Just so we’re clear,” Hen nods.

“Good.” Buck nods back. He’s quiet for a moment, then he asks: “So then what are you going to do?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Hen tells him. “I need a moment to think. Just go.”

“Go?”

“Yes, go. Go out there and put on your little performance and give me a moment to think,” Hen says, waving him towards the door she yanked him through moments earlier.

“No, don’t make me go,” Buck pleads. “Then I have to figure out how to act around Eddie again.”

“You live with him, now shoo,” Hen retorts without remorse, before unceremoniously shoving him back out the supply closet and slamming the door close behind him.

Buck outside goes to do whatever he decides to do – which is working out and accidentally picking a fight with Eddie, but Hen doesn’t know that – so Hen can pull out her phone. She can’t deal with this bullshit by herself.

Before Karen can even say anything as a greeting, she blurts out: “They’re not together.”

To her credit doesn’t skip a beat. “What?”

“Eddie and Buck, they’re not together,” Hen says.

“But they’re married?”

“Yeah, platonically, as friends, because Eddie is straight,” Hen says her voice saying ‘can you believe this shit?’ “Which I found out today, because Eddie showed up to our work. He’s our new probie. And he and Buck are pretending they don’t know each other.”

“What?”

“That’s what I said!” Hen exclaims.

“What are you going to do now?” Karen also asks.

“I don’t know,” Hen answers again.

“Okay, just tell me everything, we’ll figure this out,” Karen says, which is exactly why Hen loves her so much. She’s a problem solver, a gossip, and always on Hen’s side.

Hen relays all the new information she’s gained in the last hour and combines it with what they already know. She ends with: “And I know I should tell Bobby, but you didn’t see Buck’s face. He isn’t even out to Eddie and who knows what an investigation will bring. I don’t want to do that to someone. What if he looses his kid? I don’t want to responsible for that.”

“Yeah, I totally get that,” Karen says and she can just picture her nodding intently. She pauses for a moment, then says: “We don’t have enough data.”

“We don’t?”

“No.” Karen says, in her ‘I’m talking science’-voice that Hen adores. “We know Buck’s feelings and perception of the situation, as well as his personality, but we know nothing of Eddie’s side. What if he’s under the same misunderstanding as you were?”

“You think he might think that he’s married to Buck for real and in love with him too?” Hen asks, kind of skeptical, but willing to buy it because Karen is selling it.

“I mean, I’m not saying that, but it could be true,” Karen says. “But it’s probably closer to maybe having the same misunderstanding Buck has. I mean, if you were married to your straight bestie and you were in love with them, you wouldn’t risk them finding out by coming out, right? Buck hasn’t. Who’s to say, Eddie isn’t doing the same? Did he seem gay to you?”

Hen shrugs. “I don’t know. You have the better gaydar, between the two of us.”

Karen gasps excitedly. “You should invite him over. So, I can investigate!”

“How do you expect me to subtly do that?” Hen exclaims.

Before Karen can explain what she thinks, the alarm starts ringing and Hen has to hang up so she can answer. Promising that she’ll update Karen when she gets home and telling her she loves her, before she does.

To ensure she is able to properly report back to her wife that evening, she observes Eddie closely for the rest of her shift.

This sadly does not result in much, except a few weird looks from Eddie, since he and Buck are mostly avoiding each other and Bobby puts them on different jobs on the few calls they do take, clearly trying to figure out how he’s going to deal with this odd tension between the two. He likely can’t place a finger on it like he usually does, since it’s staged.

She has to go home, before anything changes, which is a bummer, so she is anxiously waiting to see how they’ll interact the next shift they’re on. Chim feels much the same, though for that is because he apparently walked in on the two of them fighting. Hen hates that she missed that.

They’ve been standing in the loft, looking down over the rest of the firehouse since Buck came in that morning. Now, Eddie is coming in too and they’re finally going to see for themselves.

Buck spots him easily, turning around at the sound of his footsteps as if he knows them by heart, already smiling, before he can even see Eddie. He calls out: “Hey, Eddie, did you know that grenade launcher that guy shot himself with yesterday started in production in 1969 and has been in use since the 70s?”

“Oh really?” Eddie replies, almost sounding as if he is hearing new information, but Hen is paying such close attention, she thinks it sounds amused. Though she might be making that up.

No, she didn’t make it up. However, she should have definitely added fond to that, because Eddie’s face is definitely very fond along with amused. They start making their way up the stairs together, shoulders bumping into one another on every step as Buck rambles about all the information he found as they walk to the loft.

Chimney gives Hen a confused look, as if to ask ‘can you believe that got from how they were acting last shift to this?’ Hen decides to just give a confused look back, but hers is more ‘I have no clue what’s going on between those two anymore.’

Later on a call, they dive into a pool together to pull an idiotic kid with a microwave cemented on his head out. They’re perfectly in sync and there is no leftover anything from last shift. They’ve settled into a well oiled machine and it’s clear Bobby is very pleased with himself.

It takes Hen a week of observation before she cracks.

A week of watching Buck and Eddie share little glances, a week of watching Buck stare at Eddie when he thinks no one notices, a week of watching professional Eddie cracking up and lighting up whenever Buck makes a joke, a week of Eddie referencing fun facts Buck told him as if he has them all memorized, a week of Buck bashfully ducking his head whenever he talks with Eddie. It’s too much, she can’t take it anymore.

Coming up to the locker room, she hears Eddie say: “Hey, can you pick up Chris today? I know it’s my turn, but I can’t find my keys anywhere.”

“Ohoho, what is this, Mr. Neat, lost his stuff?” Buck replies, sounding a little too gleeful.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, like you wouldn’t lose everything if you didn’t have me to remind you that you probably left your phone on the toilet and your wallet in your pocket. I found one of our coffee mugs in your closet when I put away the laundry last time. The closet, Buck,” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“I plead the fifth.” Buck grins

“Sure. Fine,” Eddie doesn’t mind or care much for the bickering, accepting Buck’s reply and returning back to his previous question. “So, you good too pick up Chris?”

Buck doesn’t even seem fazed, grin only broadening at the bitchy response. “Yeah, ‘course I can pick up Chris. No problem.”

“Cool, see you at home when I find my goddamn keys,” Eddie curses.

“Alright. Text me if you can’t and need me to come pick you up,” Buck says.

“I’ll find them,” Eddie pouts stubbornly, making Buck laugh.

He leaves the locker room nearly running into Hen, but avoiding her with a little noise, before wishing her a good afternoon. Eddie whips his head around, eyeing her suspiciously, but since Buck doesn’t react to her presence, he likely assumes she just walked in and didn’t overhear.

Wrong.

Hen waits until Buck is in his car, before pulling Eddie’s keys out of her pocket and jingling them. When Eddie looks back, she holds them up and asks: “Looking for these?”

“Yeah, where did you find them?”

She took them out of his locker, a kid’s birthday is an easy choice and because of Buck, she knows exactly when Chris’s birthday is. “Unimportant,” is what she says. “I know.”

“What?”

“I know,” she repeats, this time more intently, eyes flicking over to Buck’s sweater that ended up in Eddie’s locker at some point and is now lying on the bench, because Eddie put it there when emptying out his locker in the hope of finding his keys.

Eddie’s eyes grow wide and he gets a little pale. Hen feels a little bad when he swallows thickly and nervously asks: “What are you going to do now?”

“Get to the bottom of it,” Hen answers. “Get in my car. We’re going to have a drink together and you’ll get these,” she jingles the keys, “back when you have satisfied my curiosity.”

He hesitates – which is pretty valid, since Hen is basically kidnapping him – then cautiously asks: “Can I text Buck you’re doing that?”

“Sure,” Hen says easily. He doesn’t know where she lives, much like she doesn’t know where he lives. It’s not like telling him will change anything.

Eddie side eyes her as he texts, probably expecting her to retract the allowance, but Hen waits patiently until he’s done then ushers him into her car. To his credit, Eddie doesn’t ask too many questions and just lets her. She makes a mental note to tell him not to do that when this is over.

They spend the first few minutes of the drive in awkward silence, until Eddie finally breaks, asking: “So how did you find out anyway?”

“Buck told me,” Hen answers honestly.

“What?” Eddie exclaims with bulging eyes.

“To be fair to Buck, he forgot he did until I asked him what the fuck he was doing,” Hen says.

“Fucking scatterbrain,” Eddie mutters, though it’s sounds too fond to truly be an insult. He shakes his head to himself, then turns back to Hen and asks: “But if you already know, then why are you abducting me for an interrogation?”

“Because I only know Buck’s side of the story, duh. Didn’t you ever watch a detective show?” Hen tells him. “And Karen wants to meet you.”

“Your wife wants to meet me?” a confused Eddie asks.

“Yeah, she’s curious,” Hen replies, electing not to tell him, it is also because Karen has the better gaydar and they’re trying to figure out if he’s as straight as he claims he is. That’s not a thing to truly push on a person. They need to get there themselves. Though… they might, well… nudge.

“So you’re kidnapping me because your wife is curious about me and you find nothing weird about that?” Eddie asks slightly judgmental.

“Oh, I find it plenty odd, but I mostly find it weird you went along with it,” Hen says bluntly.

“Did I not have to?” Eddie frowns.

“No, it’s not like I would have forced you if you didn’t want to come,” Hen says, getting a little concerned. “Did you not realize that?”

Eddie shrugs, looking a little sheepish as he does. He shrugs: “You sounded pretty authoritative. I’ve always kind of followed orders.”

“Maybe stop doing that?” Hen tells him worriedly.

“Uh, I will,” Eddie promises.

“Good.”

They spend the rest of the drive in silence until they get to the Wilson house. She told Karen she was planning on doing this, so she knows she’ll be waiting inside. Denny is off at a sleep over, they have a biweekly rotation with some of the other parents, which made today a great day for this.

Indeed, Karen is waiting on their front porch, excitedly waving when Hen pulls up into the driveway. Next to her, Eddie takes one look at Karen, then looks back at Hen, apprehension written all over his face. Hen snorts: “She doesn’t bite.”

“I know that,” Eddie says bitchily, defiantly throwing his door open, though his gait slows slightly after two steps.

Karen either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, coming to meet Eddie with a big smile. She shakes his hand and says: “I’m Karen, it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Uh, Eddie, nice to meet you too,” Eddie replies, shaking her hand on autopilot.

He follows her inside on autopilot too, letting her hit him with a barrage of words. “I can make coffee, but it’s already afternoon, so I don’t know if you still drink coffee. Or tea. We also have soda. But maybe this is more of an alcohol conversation for you?”

“Definitely that last one.” Eddie clears his throat. “You have beer?”

“Yeah, but I’m more partial to wine. Are you not a wine drinker?” Karen asks.

“Uhm, I don’t know?”

“Would you be open to trying?” Karen inquires curiously. To Hen, this is her scientist face, but she doesn’t know what data she could be gathering. However, she lets her happily with a smitten look on her own face.

“I suppose,” Eddie says, which is how he finds himself awkwardly sitting next to Karen on the couch with a glass of wine in his hands moments later.

“Take a sip, tell me what you think,” Karen encourages him with a smile. “It is supposed to have a bit of a woody taste, but Hen never tastes it. I’m starting to think I’m crazy.”

Still very much confused about how he ended up here, Eddie does as told and takes a sip, sending Hen a ‘wtf’-look that she responds to with a shrug.

It’s kind of funny how Eddie then turns his focus on the wine, clearly trying to taste what Karen told him about the wine. After a moment, he cautiously says: “I think I can taste it? But it’s a little more saw dust in a shed than, like, a barrel or something.”

“Hm,” Karen hums taking another sip of her own and tasting it closely. Her eyes widen and she exclaims: “You’re good, Diaz. Totally saw dust-y. Wait.” She gets up and starts rummaging around somewhere else in the house.

On the couch, Eddie sips more of his wine, quietly asking Hen: “Is she always like that?”

“If she likes you,” Hen smiles.

“Oh, okay,” Eddie nods. Taking another sip and finishing the saw dust wine.

Karen comes back with another bottle and glass, pouring Eddie a second glass. “Try this one, tell me what you think.”

Eddie puts down the now empty glass one, before grabbing the second one and tasting it with as much intent as he did the first time around. Two sips later, he says: “It’s smokey? I think.”

“Yes, I know right!” Karen says happily. “It’s aged in old tobacco barrels.”

Suddenly self conscious, Eddie asks: “Aren’t these expensive?”

“They’re not very high up there, but not cheap frat boy liquor,” Karen shrugs. “But it’s a hobby and Hen is bad at it.”

“Hey!” Hen interjects for the first time.

“Come on, babe, you know it’s true,” Karen tells her gently.

“I try,” Hen pouts.

“I know.” Karen leans over and pats her arm. Then she turns back to Eddie and asks: “What else do you taste?”

A few glasses and a conversation about wine later, Eddie is looking a lot more relaxed and the two of them have decided that the second wine is the better one. Which means, they now all have a glass of the second one.

When there’s a lull in conversation, Karen pounces. She asks: “So, how did the whole being married as friends thing even happen?”

“Because Buck is too nice for his own good,” Eddie groans, falling back against the couch cushions.

Karen raises a brow and gives Hen a significant look, before focusing back on Eddie: “Too nice? What does that even mean?”

Eddie gestures vaguely and says: “You know, too nice. He should have never been doing this with me, but he’s too nice and now he’s still here, years later. Like,” Eddie blinks a few times and takes a sip from his wine as he tries to do the math, “like, three years later.”

“You’ve been married for three years?” Karen prompts, trying to keep Eddie talking.

“No, two,” Eddie corrects. “But Shannon left three years ago. She was sleeping with Buck, but she didn’t say she was going, she just left. And Buck should have left too. But he didn’t. He stayed. And he helped, because he’s too nice.”

That is new information. Hen never knew Buck was seeing Shannon. That makes this a whole new layer of complicated. She gets why they wanted to avoid the questions.

“Okay, so he’s too nice,” Karen nods, deciding to focus on the more important bit. “Why did you two get married when you were doing the co-parenting together before that already.”

“Cause Chris had to get surgery,” Eddie says. Explaining: “He’s our son, he has CP,” just in case they didn’t know that already. “Surgery is expensive.”

“That’s why you re-enlisted,” Hen puts together, remembering Buck telling him about the injury that brought him home.

Eddie nods enthusiastically. He clearly isn’t used to wine and he’s already a little tipsy, nearly spilling his drink.

“Why does that require a marriage?” Karen wonders out loud.

“Buck needed to adopt Chris, so my mom wouldn’t take him,” Eddie says, before whispering: “She doesn’t like my parenting.” Sadly, he explains: “She probably wouldn’t have given him back. I couldn’t lose Chris like that. So I asked Buck, because he’s selfless and I’m selfish. And the fastest way to adopt someone is through stepparent adoption. So we got married.”

Both their hearts break at the confession and Karen pulls Eddie into her side, saving his glass when he flops over sideways.

She rubs her hand over his arm and says: “It’s not selfish to want to keep your son, Eddie. Your mom sounds like a bitch for thinking that. From what I hear from Hen, you’re a great father. You and Buck both.”

“That’s what Buck says too,” Eddie smiles sappily. Hen gets another significant look from Karen. “He is a great dad too. Chris loves him.”

“And that’s all that matter,” Karen says, squeezing Eddie again, before letting him untangle himself from her, while she refills his glass.

“I guess,” Eddie agrees thoughtfully.

Getting the conversation back on track, Hen asks: “So, you two got married so he could adopt Chris, then you went on tour and got injured.”

“Yeah, we were supposed to get divorced when I got back, you know, but Buck was too nice again and he became a firefighter so Chris would have insurance when I got discharged and so he could support us while I healed up,” Eddie says.

“So how did you two end up here in LA? Texas didn’t have enough fires?” Karen asks curiously.

“Buck’s great at his job,” Eddie says, seemingly not answering the question for a moment. “He got job offers all over. He wanted to take the one in Austin, so we would be closer to home, not uproot Chris and stuff. But… I wanted to go to LA. Get out of there. Buck just agreed and we got a house here.”

Hen is sure he was going to tell them again how that is because Buck is too nice, but Karen starts talking before he can. “Did you two buy a house? That’s quite the commitment.”

“Maybe, but you get tax benefits together and a higher mortgage with two possible incomes,” Eddie shrugs. “This way we’d have money in the house, so we’d have the money again when we sell. Maybe be able to put some to the side for a college fund for Chris.”

“Won’t that be difficult when you two divorce?” Karen asks and both see the way Eddie’s face sours at the thought.

“We’re not divorced yet,” he pouts. “And we have a prenup. I learned that lesson the first time around. It will be fine.”

“Why didn’t you divorce yet?” Hen asks, suddenly curious. She knows why Buck hasn’t, namely because he has a a huge fat crush on Eddie, but she wonders what Eddie’s rationale is for staying married to Buck and getting more involved with him by buying a house together for them and their kid.

Eddie’s face does something complicated and unreadable, before he shrugs: “We haven’t found anyone yet. We’re gonna get divorced if we get serious with someone. It’s not in the cards right now. Buck isn’t looking for anything serious, says he gets enough serious at work. He…” Eddie’s eyes get a hard glint in them, “He hooks up sometime.”

“And you?” Hen asks with a raised brow, clocking that shit as jealousy and curious that Eddie has only focused on why Buck might leave.

“Oh, I haven’t gotten around to it,” Eddie shrugs. “I want to get into a work rhythm first. And I am not really a going out to the club or a bar kind of person. I don’t really meet a lot of people.”

“Some girls have flirted on the calls we went on,” Hen points out.

“That’s unprofessional.” Eddie looks scandalized at the suggestion and says: “And it will just get complicated with Chris and everything. I’m fine where I am right now.”

Yeah, no, this man is not straight. Hen doesn’t know what label he might prefer, but she does know it includes being in love with Evan Buckley. God, this is a mess. Why did she get involved with it? Curiosity killed the cat and all that (a voice that sounds annoyingly like Buck sharing a fun fact adds ‘but satisfaction brought it back.’ He is right).

“Complicated with Chris and everything?” Karen repeats curiously, filling everyone’s glass again. She is starting to get a bit of a flush herself and Hen decides not to drink more, because someone needs to be somewhat sober at the end of this.

“Uh, yeah, he- he’s scared of people leaving, you know. I mean, I left twice to go fight and Shannon left forever,” Eddie says awkwardly. “If I start dating someone, I’ll have to introduce them to Chris at some point – and Buck of course – and then if it doesn’t work out… I don’t know, I don’t want to risk that right now.”

“And are you scared something like that will happen if Buck starts dating someone?” Hen feels comfortable pushing, because it’s not likely to happen with how down bad Buck is for Eddie.

Eddie’s face contorts at the mention of Buck dating someone, but a determined look comes over his face as he states: “Buck would never leave Chris. He loves him, he’s his father. It would break Chris’s heart and Buck is too good to do anything that would hurt Chris. Too nice.”

Hen smiles at the assertion, heart melting slightly at how confident Eddie is in Buck, how much faith he has in him.

Karen, however, is more keen than her, finally pressing on the one point he keeps bringing up again and again. Conversationally, she says: “You know, you keep saying Buck is too nice, but have you ever considered that he wants to be there and it’s not him being too nice for his own good, it’s just him doing what he wants to be doing?”

For a moment, Eddie looks as if a world of possibilities has opened up for him and he reached enlightenment. Then he shuts all those emotions on his face down and groans: “Don’t do that. I’d just won.”

“You just won?” Karen repeats, utterly confused and sharing a look with Hen to see if she knows what he’s talking about.

She doesn’t.

“Yeah, I won,” Eddie tells them, gesturing vaguely as he does. “You know, when you feel or want something you’re not supposed or are allowed to, and then you have to fight until you don’t anymore? I’d just won and now I’m feeling the things again.”

Oh.

Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no.

That’s just sad. That’s way too sad. Hen didn’t sign up for this. She signed up for an oblivious guy who was in love with his best friend, maybe a straight guy she’d reached early enough before he did something stupid and ruined the best friendship he had.

She did not sign up for a deeply repressed homosexual. Panicked, she looks over to Karen, hoping she knows how to take over.

Karen also looks kind of panicked for a moment, before pulling on her game face. She puts her glass down and gently takes Eddie’s hands in her own. Confused he looks at her, which was probably her plan, because she makes sure to keep eye contact as she says: “Nothing – and I mean nothing – you feel or want can be something that’s not allowed or you’re not supposed to. You’re allowed to want things, to feel the things you feel. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Eddie’s jaw clenches and it is clear he’s stubbornly holding back tears as he says: “Yes, there is. I’m the man of the house. There are expectations.”

Fucking hell, Hen already got where Buck was coming from with his ‘fuck Eddie’s parents’-attitude, but she just gained a deeper understanding for it. That’s super fucked up.

Karen, thankfully, has more to say than ‘that’s fucked up’ and instead says: “And what kind of expectations are that?”

“The man of the house protects his family, provides for them. I’ve been doing that for forever,” Eddie answers as if that’s obvious. “I’m a Diaz man, it’s what we do.”

Hen did not expect to be digging into her coworkers childhood trauma when she kidnapped him that afternoon. It feels a bit too personal to go digging herself, so she gladly lets Karen lead this bit. She rightfully points out: “Chris is a Diaz man, do you have those expectations for him?”

“No, of course not,” Eddie frowns. “He’s just a kid. And he’s a great kid, who can be whatever he wants to be. It’s unfair to expect things from him.”

“Then why was it okay for them to expect things from you?” Karen prods gently. “Why do you not deserve what Chris has?”

Eddie falls silent, looking almost stricken. He tears his gaze away from Karen’s eyes to stare emptily at the floor. After a few beats of silence, he softly says: “I- I don’t know.”

“It was unfair of them, to ask that of you,” Karen says. “It was unfair and deep down, you know that too, because you’re not doing the same to Chris. You’re allowed to want things, to feel things. You don’t have to be the man of the house. And you don’t have to win from your feelings.”

“She’s right,” Hen decides to pipe up to drive the point home. “Trust me. You can have the things you want. It’s okay.” She vaguely nods to her surroundings, the house she has, the life, with her wife and her son surrounding her.

The gesture might be vague, but the message is received clearly. Eddie looks around and an understanding look comes over his features. They’ve gotten through to him.

Just when Hen is about to take a relieved breath that they made it through this, a tear leaks out of the corner of one of Eddie’s eyes. It’s followed by another and another, until there are tears streaming down Eddie’s face.

It takes a moment for the rest of him to catch up with the fact that he’s crying, but soon he’s taking shuddering breaths as he weeps, gasping for air as he fails to get enough between each sob.

Karen can’t take it anymore and puts her arm around his shoulders again, opening up her side as an invitation. Eddie doesn’t decline, burying his face into her shoulder as he continues to cry for what feels like forever.

When he can’t seem to get the crying under control no matter how hard he tries, he makes a frustrated noise. Untangling himself from Karen’s hug and furiously wiping at his eyes, before blindly grabbing one of the bottles and emptying it into his glass.

As he starts drinking, Hen cautiously asks: “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay. I’m in love with my friend and I’m drinking saw dust wine,” Eddie says in a voice that’s nasally from the tears.

Apologetically, Karen offers: “I can open another bottle, give you something better to drink?”

“Please, don’t. I still have to face Buck today,” Eddie says, then thinks for a moment and amends: “On second thought, maybe do, because I don’t know how I’m going to face Buck today.”

Karen gets up and comes back with another bottle, saying: “This one is a little fruity.”

Eddie looks up with her, still crying, but also shocked out for it for a moment. Both Karen and Hen are confused until he says: “That’s not funny.”

Hen and Karen process that for a second, before they realize, then burst out into laughter. They feel slightly sorry towards Eddie, but he joins in too after a few moments until they’re all giggling on the couch.

Once they’ve finally caught their breath and calmed down again. Karen clears her throat and holds up the bottle, asking: “You want me to open it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let me ask you this,” Hen says. “Do you want to talk about it more, or do you want me to text Buck to come pick you up?”

“Talk about it more,” Eddie replies a bit too fast. He explains: “I don’t think I can face him yet. What if I can’t keep my mouth shut when I see him?” He adds in a hushed voice: “I think I’m a little tipsy.”

“You’re definitely past tipsy,” Hen informs him with an amused look. “I’ll get everyone some water instead.”

“Nooo,” Eddie whines. “Then I’ll be sober enough to think about it.”

“You need to hydrate. Drink some water and we might open the bottle of wine,” Hen says, ignoring how Karen pouts at the conditions too.

“Fine,” Eddie sulks.

“Smart choice,” Hen laughs, before getting up.

When she comes back with the water, Karen has thankfully left the bottle unopened on the coffee table, though they have been drinking the already open wines.

Karen has sagged down on the couch. Eddie is beside her, leaning towards her as she leans back towards him. She asks: “So what do you even like about Buck?”

Eddie is red and Hen isn’t sure if it’s the wine or the crush. He ducks into himself and mutters: “He’s nice and funny and pretty, uh, handsome, pretty handsome. And he’s great with Chris. And it’s not hard to talk to him.”

Okay, the stuttering makes Hen decide it’s probably embarrassment, so she swoops in with the water, making sure they both start drinking, before plopping down on her chair again.

Karen has started Eddie up again and he’s now telling her all about how Buck always has his back and how he’s his partner in everything and how they’re best friends and it’s nice. So nice.

It’s a little adorable and Hen maybe films a little bit, so she’ll have something to play on the wedding… or well, the redo of the wedding, when it’s for real. Because that must happen at some point with the way they love each other.

They end up not opening bottle number three, which is a smart plan. Hen only drank one glass, maybe one and a half, so Eddie and Karen both basically drank a bottle a person. And Karen likes wine, it’s a hobby, so she has some sort of tolerance. Eddie? Not so much.

About an hour later and he’s still giggly, albeit a little soberer. He’s been waxing poetics about Buck, then slapping his hand over his mouth and saying he shouldn’t be saying those things, before Karen encourages him again and the cycle repeats.

When he starts up about Buck’s pretty blue eyes for the third time, Hen decides to change the topic. She has to work with Buck too and she doesn’t want to think about this every time she makes eye contact with her coworker. So she asks: “So, are you going to tell Buck about this revelation?”

Eddie’s smile drops immediately and he becomes pale as he violently shakes his head no. “No, no, never, he can never know,” he says without hesitation. “He’s already done so much and it’ll only make it weird and what if he hates me and wants to leave? Chris will be devastated.”

“What if he feels the same?” Hen suggests, though a little carefully.

“Pff, as if. He’s straight,” Eddie snorts in a manner that says ‘don’t be ridiculous.’

And look, a part of Hen wants to shake him and tell him that Buck is very much in love with him too and that’s not going to happen. She does, truly, because this stupidity makes her want to run her head into a wall multiple times.

However, she doesn’t know Eddie, only met him a week ago. And Eddie clearly only acknowledged two hours ago that he’s not straight and in love with his best friend. On top of that, the way he keeps saying he shouldn’t be saying that, means he has a way to go before he’s accepting it.

Hen can’t know how Eddie will react to Buck loving him too. Maybe he’ll be okay, maybe this revelation will get stuffed down again – ‘fought down’ as Eddie said – and that will be bad, very bad for Buck. She simply doesn’t feel comfortable outing anyone, but especially in a situation as precarious as this.

Because it is precarious.

While she doesn’t think it will happen, the possibility of this exploding is still very much open. And if that happens, they’ll have a child together, a house together, a job together and a marriage. That’s not something that can be easily split, take it from someone who needed a lawyer to break up with her girlfriend before they got back together again.

So, she just makes a calming gesture and says: “Okay, okay, that’s fine. You don’t have to tell him if you aren’t ready.”

“I’ll never be ready, I’m taking this to the grave,” Eddie vows.

“That’s fine too,” Hen says.

“A little dramatic, but yeah,” Karen adds.

Eddie pouts at Karen. “I’m not dramatic.”

Karen squeezes his cheek then pats it two times as she says: “Sure you aren’t. You’re just being pouty for no reason.”

“I’m not being pouty,” Eddie pouts harder.

Thankfully, he has forgotten about the scare Hen gave him about potentially telling Buck about his feeling and is distracted by Karen. The protest about pouting turned into kids behavior, which turned into them bitching about pick up line, especially the other parents at the pick up line and their nosiness. Hen just lets them.

Though soon after the fun is over. The shift they came off wasn’t too tiring or busy, but it was a long one and the exhaustion starts to catch up. Hen can feel it herself and she can see Eddie nodding off here and there too.

So, she steps into the hallway and calls Buck, who immediately picks up: “Hen, why did Eddie text me that you know and are taking him to meet your wife?”

“Because I do know and I did take him to meet my wife,” Hen tells him as if that’s not strange. “I need you to come pick him up.”

“What did you do to him?” Buck asks.

“Why are you so distrustful?” Hen shoots back.

“Because you have sensitive information,” Buck guffaws.

“That I promised not to tell,” Hen says. “And I didn’t. We just drank some wine – Eddie is apparently a great wine taster – and heard his side of the story. You never did tell us how you two met. Not as romantic as I envisaged.”

“Oh fuck off,” Buck says, though he sounds relieved. “And he’s okay?”

“On the wrong side of tipsy, but doing great. He has a lot of opinions about one Janet.”

“From pick up line?” Buck asks surprised, before – less surprised – he adds: “Of course he does, Janet is a bitch.”

“Okay, so you share opinions about Janet,” Hen replies with amusement. “Can you come pick him up? I want to get my post shift nap in, before me and Karen go out for dinner. It’s date night.”

“Yeah, sure, text me the address,” Buck says. “Is it going to be a quick in and out or like a long thing, because I’m just gonna buckle Chris in and take him with me, but I’ll leave him in the car if it’s quick.”

Hen glances over to Eddie, who is now fully sleeping on the couch, while Karen plays a game on her phone next to him. “It’ll probably be a quick in and out.”

“Alright, see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit.”

Indeed Buck shows up a little while later. Hen opens the door for him, shooting a curious look at the jeep to see a young boy with brown curls and thick, red glasses reading a book in the backseat.

“He’s been really into this book series recently, so he’s practically shut off from the world,” Buck says when he follows her eyes for a second. Then he claps his hands and says: “Now, show me the patient.”

At this point, the patient in question is fully sleeping on the couch, a rosy flush still on his cheeks. The sight actually stops Buck in his tracks for a second and Hen mentally files that away to make fun of him for later.

He quickly shakes Karen’s hand introducing himself as she giggles. She’s probably connecting the things Eddie just said about Buck to Buck and can’t keep a straight face, or just plain laughing because of the same thing Hen just filed away, since the wine stripped her off the ability to keep it in. Buck is a little confused, but takes it in stride, before going to study Eddie, seemingly trying to make a decision.

Buck watches Eddie doze for a second, trying to decide whether he’s going to disturb his sleep or bruise his ego and just pick him up to tuck into bed at home. In the end, he decides on waking him up. He doesn’t know what kind of conversation he’s had with Hen and Karen and he doesn’t want to push more.

After a beat or two, he gently nudges Eddie’s shoulder, softly saying: “Hey, Eddie, it’s time to wake up, okay? We’re gonna go home.”

Eddie’s face screws up and he burrows his face further into the couch cushions as he wines: “I don’t want to go home. I wanna stay with my new friend, Karen. She’s really nice.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Buck says, looking highly amused. “It’s good that you made a friend, but we’re gonna go home now.”

“You’re mean,” Eddie says, popping up to pout at Buck. Though whatever he wanted to say, seems to die on his lips when he spots Buck. Instead an awed, very in love expression coming onto his features.

Buck is oblivious to this, snorting and shaking his head, before he huffs: “Yeah, the meanest. Now, up you go, Chris is waiting in the car.”

“Chris!” Eddie lights up at the mention of his son. “He’s here?” he asks, looking around.

“He’s in the car outside, you gotta get up and say bye to Hen and Karen and then we’ll go see Chris, yeah?”

“Alright,” Eddie groans, before holding up both his hands.

Buck hesitates for a moment, then grabs them and pulls Eddie onto his feet. Immediately Eddie stumbles forward, half draping himself over Buck as he complains: “My legs are jello. Too much wine.”

“Sure, wine,” Karen snorts, then giggles.

Eddie half glares at her from his position on Buck’s shoulder and mutters: “Shut up.”

“Okay, that is enough hospitality from Hen and Karen for today,” Buck decides, bending forward slightly and picking Eddie up, who goes easily, though with a small yelp and a flush on his face.

This time Buck sees Hen take a picture of them and gives her the middle finger, before asking: “Will you help with the doors, I need to get this lightweight to the car.”

“I’m not a lightweight,” Eddie protests, even while making no move to get put down again, instead making himself comfortable.

“Sure you aren’t,” Buck says affectionately.

“I’m not,” Eddie frowns. “I just haven’t drank much in a while, I don’t know if you remembered, but I got shot. I wasn’t allowed to drink.” A beat. “And clubs are stupid.”

Hen sees Buck’s face become pinched when Eddie references his injury so casually, but you can’t hear it in his voice when he agrees: “Okay, you’re not a lightweight. Hen, the doors?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Hen quickly says, moving forward to open the front door and slipping out so she can get the car.

As Buck follows behind her, he calls out a greeting to Karen, who stays on the porch. From where he is half slung over Buck’s shoulder, Eddie waves cheerfully, any earlier grudge forgotten as he calls out a goodbye.

Karen waves back, yelling: “Come by again, we’ll try more wine.”

Hen can hear Buck mutter, “That sounds like a bad idea,” but it is mostly drowned out by Eddie yelling back: “Sounds fun. Text me?”

“I will,” Karen calls out, even though she doesn’t have his number. Hen will probably have to give it to her later.

Meanwhile, they’ve arrived at the car and Hen has opened the door. As Buck wrestles Eddie into the passenger seat, Hen focuses on Chris, who has rolled his window down and is curiously looking at his two dads.

“Hi, I’m Hen, I work with your dads,” she introduces herself.

Now Chris looks at her, smiling: “I’m Christopher, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Hen smiles. “You okay back there?”

“Yes, I’m reading,” Chris tells her in an unbothered cheerful manner. “Papi says daddy had a little party with his friends, are you and that lady his friends?”

“We are. That’s my wife, Karen,” Hen says. “Your daddy is acting a little silly right now because of our little party, hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay, we’re just glad he’s making friends,” Chris says in that candid way only a child can. Then he whispers: “Daddy doesn’t like people very much.”

Hen laughs at that and says: “Well, he seemed to have fun. So, he at least likes some people. Have a good day, alright?”

“I will, you too,” Chris smiles, then turns back to his book.

Buck is now done with getting Eddie into the car, closing the door with a slam. Eddie is leaning back in his seat to say hi to Chris and is distracted. After one last glance to make sure he’s okay, Buck turns to Hen and says: “I would say thank you for looking out for him, but I feel like you were also involved.”

“I was,” Hen doesn’t deny it. “But it was mostly them. Seems like Eddie made a friend.”

“I’m glad they got along,” Buck gives in after a moment. Then he’s quiet for a moment, before he says: “Did anything weird come up or something? What did you even talk about?”

“Not much,” Hen shrugs. “I just wanted to know his side of the story, fill in the blanks you know. He told us a little more about how the two of you ended up married and all that. But we also just talked about the wine and school pick up, that sort of stuff.”

“Okay,” Buck nods, more to himself. “And you’re not going to tell Bobby?”

“Nah,” Hen says. “Not unless you two make it a problem at work. Are you planning on behaving unprofessionally, Buckley?” she ends pointedly, giving a look over her glasses.

Unconsciously, Buck straightens up under her gaze and shakes his head: “No, ma’am.”

Hen smiles pleasantly: “Then I see no reason to tell. See you next shift.”

“Yeah, till next shift.”

She joins Karen on the porch, watching Buck back out of their driveway. Eddie has moved on from talking to Chris, who clearly has more interest in reading his book, to messing with the radio. Buck bats his hand away when he finds something Buck must like and he pouts at him.

However, Buck is too busy backing out at that point and doesn’t notice. Because of that, he also doesn’t notice the flushed, mushy look that comes onto Eddie’s face for a moment when he looks at the muscular arm resting on his seat, before he quickly looks away.

In doing so, he catches Karen looking and she wiggles her eyebrows at him, which only make him blush more as he pointedly looks away from her.

When the jeep has disappeared from view, Hen throws an arm around Karen and asks: “So, was meeting Eddie like you’d hoped?”

“Better,” Karen grins brightly. “I think he’s going to wake up with a headache and a passion for wine. It is going to be so fun to have more wine nights.”

“You’re a little manipulator, aren’t you,” Hen says fondly, kissing her forehead.

Karen leans into the kiss as she shrugs: “I don’t think he’s getting Pandora’s box closed again, he’s going to need a friend. Two birds in one stone if you ask me.”

Next shift is slightly weird, because now it’s not just Buck and Hen, and Buck and Eddie in on a secret, but Buck, Eddie and Hen that are in on the secret. And on top of that, Hen is now the holder of the ‘in love with my best friend’-secret for both Buck and Eddie.

Chimney picks up on the weird vibes and brings it up a few hours into their shift. “I feel like you’re all in on something and I wasn’t invited.”

They all freeze for a moment, before Buck clumsily says: “You’re right. We created the ‘our name is not an object’-club and we’ve been keeping it a secret.”

It’s very clearly a lie, but it’s so ridiculous that it kind of sounds like Buck making fun of Chimney for seeing something that’s not there. So it works in their favor.

“Oi, you’re name is also an object, dumbass,” Chimney decides to take offense with Buck’s lie anyway. “I mean, can I borrow a buck; ring any bells? Or Hen, hen is a thing, it’s a chicken.”

“Oh my god, my name is an object,” Buck mutters, having a crisis over that.

Eddie, however, protests part of Chimney’s statement: “Hey, a chicken is an animal, not an object. You think animals are just things? Chickens are great.”

That gets a smile out of Buck that Hen doesn’t get, before he joins in on it, while Chimney desperately tries to defend himself. The whole thing is so absurd that it breaks the tension between all of them and they settle back into their pre-wine drunk Eddie routine.

Some things do change, since Buck and Eddie emergency babysit Denny that one time when their usual babysitter fell through on date night, and Eddie and Karen have become actual friends, texting and even drinking more wine a few more times.

Hen can’t say for sure what happens all the time when they do, because she actually got kicked out of her own house for wine club last time – something the two of them probably came up with on the spot – so she and Buck ended up taking Chris and Denny to the movies that evening, since the two get along and it was better than sitting around doing nothing.

However, overall, it’s normal. They have a dynamic.

Two months into Eddie working there, that balance gets thrown off again when a new variable gets introduced; Maddie Buckley.

When she suddenly appears in the firehouse, Hen has to do a double take and reassess her view of Buck once more. She already knew he could keep secrets, but with how bad a liar he was and how many secrets she has already gotten out of him, she honestly thought there wouldn’t be any more. However, he is like a vault when it comes to secrets and it surprises her anyway.

Maddie seems like a nice person and Hen hates that what she thinks is implied happened to her. And she hopes Maddie settles in here okay with Buck and Eddie, especially since Buck looks so heartbreakingly hopeful when he asks her to hang around.

Hen can’t imagine what that must be like, to have a sibling you love so much be so far away and hurting and to have them here now and feel like they’ll slip away.

When Buck comes in next shift, they all ask about it of course. He smiles and says she’s doing good and taking the sharing with Buck well, from which Hen infers she must have gotten the whole marriage of convenience and son run down and is taking that well.

However, she doesn’t get any further information until their first weekend off when there is sudden knocking at the door. She opens it to find a frazzled looking Eddie asking: “Is Karen home?”

“Also hello to you,” Hen says, opening the door wider. “Karen is in the kitchen.”

“Ah, yeah, hello,” Eddie says, brushing past her. “It’s an emergency.”

“Emergency?” Hen repeats to herself. “We’re first responders, why does he need Karen for an emergency?” She stands by the open door in confusion for two seconds, before shaking herself out of it and going to see what this emergency is.

Apparently it’s serious, because when she gets there, Karen has made tea and is setting it down in front of Eddie, asking: “Alright, so tell me. What’s the problem?”

“Maddie,” Eddie groans.

“As in Buck’s sister? She seemed nice,” Hen comments as she sits down too.

“She is, she is,” Eddie assures them. “It’s just also horrible.”

“How so?” Karen asks.

“I-” Eddie stops for a second. “I’ve never had to impress in-laws before. I met Shannon’s mom once, but that was just after she’d given birth and that had been so stressful that I didn’t even think to be stressed about that. But with Maddie, I actually want her to like me, but I don’t want her to know that I want her to like me.”

“Okay, explain that one to me,” Karen requests.

“Well, if I want her to like me, that’s suspicious and she’s already suspicious of me, because I’ve basically trapped her baby brother in a marriage, so she keeps side eyeing me and Buck doesn’t notice, because he’s too happy to have his sister back and Chris is a kid, who is still excited about the novel tía he discovered so it’s just her and me, locked in this stand off,” Eddie explains. “And that’s not even touching on the bed situation.”

“We’re coming back to the bed situation,” Karen tells him, before moving on. “Why is she suspicious of you? You didn’t trap Buck into that marriage. Doesn’t she know that?”

“She does. We – well, Buck – did explain that after she yelled at me. A lot,” Eddie says, looking kind of scared at the memory. “But it’s not a good look, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at it from her perspective. Buck married me for my benefit and she knows he has that big heart of his and she’s definitely protective of it – which I understand with their childhood – so she doesn’t trust that at all. And we were meant to be divorced, but we aren’t, so it only looks like I’m trapping him more, because it’s easy. Taking advantage of him. And me being the one that came up with lying about it at work, that looks even worse!”

“Okay, yeah, I can understand how that might seem a little bad at first glance,” Karen winces sympathetically.

“But Buck talked to her about it, right? She knows that’s not what’s happening, right?” Hen asks, unable to believe Buck wouldn’t set the record straight when Maddie yelled at Eddie ‘a lot.’

“He did. I wasn’t there when he did, so I don’t know what he said and she now only seems to tolerate my presence, but there is something she hates about me and I can’t figure out what and it’s stressing me out,” Eddie exclaims.

Hen and Karen exchange a look at that. If Buck talked to Maddie without Eddie there, he might have told him he’s in love with him, which means Maddie probably thinks Eddie is playing with her little brother’s heart. That’s not an easy one to come back from.

Eddie misses the glance due to the despair and Karen pats his back as she says: “I’m sure she’ll come around. You’re a great guy. She’s only just got here, she’s probably waiting to see what kind of person you are, before committing to liking you.”

“I hope so,” Eddie says miserably.

“Don’t be like that, I liked you immediately. Maybe you should ask her to wine night, seeing you tipsy will warm her up to you,” Karen suggests.

Eddie sends her a deadpan look. “I don’t think me waxing poetry about her baby brother’s muscles is going to warm her up to me, Karen.”

“Maybe not the muscles, but your one about his eyes is pretty good,” Karen grins.

“I hate you,” Eddie blushes.

“I know,” Karen tells him unbothered. “So, tell me about this bed situation.”

Somehow, Eddie becomes pinker as he confesses: “Buck gave Maddie his room, so we’ve been sharing my bed again.”

“Again?” both Karen and Hen repeat quite loudly.

“Yeah, we shared back in Texas, since we only had one bedroom, but then we didn’t share-share often, because I worked nights and he worked days, so it was more that we both used the bed. Now, we’re sharing and-” Eddie swallows and doesn’t look either of them in the eye as he continues, “Buck is a hugger.”

Hen forces her face into something neutral, not wanting to do anything suggestive that would make Eddie uncomfortable. Karen, on the other hand, has no such issues, whistling and wiggling her eyebrows in that adorably dorky way of hers.

“Shut up,” Eddie hisses, more embarrassed than genuinely put off as he buries his face in his arms, slumping over the table.

Karen gives a quick side bar to Hen, explaining: “Eddie recently discovered what sexual attraction feels like.”

“Is that why I got kicked out last wine night?” Hen asks.

She nods and apologetically says: “Yeaaah, he had to talk it through with someone who doesn’t work with Buck. But for now, he’s… coping.”

“I’m not coping,” Eddie calls out, voice muffled by his arms. “This is the worst. I wake up every day with his warm body plastered to my back and his strong arm pinning me to the bed.”

“Oh, sounds terrible,” Karen says sarcastically.

“Just because you can lick your spouse’s muscles, doesn’t mean I can,” Eddie mutters spitefully.

Hen realizes that this is a two way street and she has also been a topic of conversation. Scandalized, she slaps Karen’s arm lightly as she gasps: “Karen.”

“What? It’s nothing bad, everyone knows I like your muscles. It’s nothing I wouldn’t mention to my mom,” Karen defends herself.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, Hen,” Eddie backs Karen up, having come out of the hiding spot in his arms to do so.

Suspiciously Hen looks between the two for a moment, before she believes them. “Okay, but don’t tell him anything too weird.”

“I’d never do that,” Karen promises solemnly.

Then the conversation is broken from a yell from deeper in the house. “Mama, can you help me with my biology homework?”

Happy to extract herself from the situation, Hen calls back: “Of course, sweetheart, I’m on my way,” already halfway out her chair, before she’s done.

By the time Denny understands his biology homework and has filled in all the sheets they were assigned, Eddie and Karen must have come up with some plan to tackle the Maddie and bed sharing situation, because when Hen joins them again, Karen is recounting the drama from the farmer’s market to Eddie, when Fred accused Hendrick of using a pesticide.

Eddie is properly engaged with the conversation, gasping and exclaiming at the right points and interjecting his own opinion, despite not being present or knowing any of the people involved. He looks comfortable, at home in his skin. Hen thinks he’s come a long way from the kind of uptight, nervous, professional man she met that first day.

They all continue chatting for a little more, until Eddie decides that he really must be heading home. So, they see him out.

At the door, Karen pep talks him a little more. “Just be yourself and show her how much you care. Give it some time and you’re gonna be just fine.”

“I’m gonna be fine,” Eddie repeats determinedly. Before adding, “I hope.”

“That’s the spirit,” Karen says cheerfully. “And if all else fails, you can always still tell her that you’re just madly in love with Buck and have no ill intentions towards him and would never hurt him, so she shouldn’t worry.”

Going off Eddie’s look, it is clear that this is not the first time Karen has suggested it. Mentally, Hen can’t help, but agree with the suggestion. Eddie not so much. He just glares: “I’m not going to do that.”

With that, they say their goodbyes.

Next shift, Hen is dying to ask how it’s going, maybe even prod a little. She watches Buck complain about the traffic after bringing Maddie to work and she is just about to tease by asking him, if he at least slept well, when the ground starts to shake. An earthquake.

Any thoughts of teasing Buck are thrown out the window as they all pull out and get to work. A natural disaster is bad for anyone, but it will prove especially busy for first responders.

Hen is right in that regard, she doesn’t get a moment of peace to catch her breath, until she herself has become trapped in the parking garage of a hotel that is about to collapse on top of her. It’s not the most ideal break, if she’s honest.

She’s sitting there. Dust in her lungs and her eyes. Her muscles ache and her throat is sore. And, most of all, she’s tired. Exhausted really.

Thoughts about anything from before this moment are wiped away and nothing exists in that moment, except her shaking breaths, stuttering heartbeat and ringing in her ears. Around her the dark space is pressing down on her.

In that moment, the only two things she can think are 1) I am going to die down here, and 2) I am never going to see my family again, never going to see Denny and Karen again.

It’s a terrifying thing.

Nothing like a natural disaster to make you realize how close you are to losing all you have. All you hold dear.

Tears push at her eyes and she’s very aware of the dead body not that far away from her. She tries to remember if she said a proper goodbye like she always tries to do before she left, or if she’d been in a hurry this morning. Tries to remember if she told Karen she loves her.

She wants to make sure Karen knows how much she loves her. How much she loves this family they have together. That Hen never wants to lose her. That she would do anything to come home to her, but the situation is just so hopeless.

Unable to just sit still and do nothing, Hen takes out her phone and records a message for Karen. She would call, but cell service is still down. She doesn’t get to hear Karen’s voice again and that thought breaks her heart.

Hen holds the phone up and records what will likely be her final words with a voice that is squeezed by a tightness in her throat and halted by her brain.

When she’s done. She nearly tosses it in frustration as very real tears start to fall down her face. She doesn’t want to die like this. Helpless. She doesn’t want to die at all. She wants to come home, see her wife and her kid. She wants to live, dammit. She wants to live!

With a loud yells she starts moving again, starts trying to find a way out again. Wilsons have always been stubborn and by god, is she not going to stop today.

It feels almost like a miracle when Paisley saves the day, showing her the way out and leading her to the little girl she’d been trying to find. So many tragedies happen on days like these and just a few moments before, Hen had almost resigned herself to becoming one of them. Instead, she is a rare instance of good fortune.

She is absolutely exhausted and just ready to go home. She has called Karen when Chimney was done checking her over, didn’t mention how close she got, just told her that she loved her very much and would be home soon, bringing a friend with her. Paisley deserves a good home.

Hen is so out of it, she doesn’t even think to act surprised when Bobby seems to know about Chris. She just nods at Eddie’s smile, she knows the feeling. The first earthquake always is the roughest, especially with loved ones out there, with a kid out there.

Buck also seems way more relaxed and there is something about him that lights up. Same goes for Eddie, Hen supposes they’re just excited to have survived such a big disaster. That their whole family did. Both of them are quite new to the game.

So, she doesn’t pay their weirdness any mind and doesn’t blink when Buck calls Eddie over so he can drive them both home, before they can even get out of the firehouse. His eyes swimming with delight as he says: “You pulled a woman up with your bare arms today. You shouldn’t be driving.”

It’s pretty daring for them with the secret they have, but Eddie doesn’t seem to bat an eye, instead thrilled to take Buck up on the offer.

At home, Hen takes a few seconds to introduce Paisley and explain why she had to bring her home, then she face plants onto her wife, hugging her tight and knocking out for about twelve hours. It’s a pretty normal routine for a big disaster aftermath.

In fact, everything is so normal that she didn’t pick up on anything and gets completely blind-sighted when coming into work next shift. Because Eddie and Buck come in together and they’re slightly late as well.

Together they make their way up the stairs, but they don’t join everyone like normal, instead stopping a few paces away and standing there awkwardly, until Bobby notices and asks: “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine, we just, uh…” Buck starts, before trailing off, unsure how to say whatever he needs to say.

Helplessly, he looks over at Eddie, who squares his shoulders and tilts his head defiantly. He grabs Buck’s hand and announces: “Me and Buck started dating.”

A shocked silence falls over the room. It last for about two beats, then:

“YOU DID WHAT? You- You! You! I can’t believe you two. Months. Months! I had to deal with your bullshit for months. And this is how I find out? You didn’t even tell me first?? I got to find out with everyone else? This is so rude. When the fuck did that even happen?”

The two of them blink a few times at her outburst, then start to explain at the same time. Buck starts: “It happened during the earthquake and you’d just been through a lot.” And Eddie adds: “It was spur of the moment with the elevator. Buck nearly died.” “Uh-huh, and then it was kind of new and we still had to talk.” “And over text was weird and we were going to see you anyway.”

Then suddenly, Buck pauses, before he can make his next excuse and says: “Wait, Eddie told you he liked me?”

Hen gives him an ‘are you for real?’-look and says: “What do you think happened at wine night?”

“Wait, you told her you liked me?” Eddie also realizes what Buck had moments before.

“How do you think I knew?” Hen exclaims, utterly done with these two idiots. She can’t believe she got invested and that is the thanks she gets.

Before the two can start squabbling, Bobby steps in: “Okay, okay, why don’t we all calm down for a bit, yeah? It’s clear there is more to this, but for now. Buck, Eddie, congratulations, but there will be paperwork and this might get you separated.” The two nod. They understand.

Then Chimney pipes up: “Hen, did you just say months? Was that what that first day was? A misfiring of horny Buck’s brain?”

“Don’t call it that,” Buck protests.

In the background, Bobby excuses himself to get the paperwork, which Hen respects, however, she wants to see whatever train wreck this turns out to be.

“What do you mean, don’t call it that? It’s what it is right? Your brain telling you ‘fuck that guy’ and you not realizing that was an instruction?” Chimney argues.

Buck jumps him, slapping his hand over Chimney’s mouth as he chants: “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” while in the background Eddie turns a bright pink. Hen isn’t going to save them, this is pay back for not telling her first.

However, she is going to ask: “So, how did it happen?” in a loud voice, which ends the fight, because Chimney is curious too and Buck gets stopped by the love struck look on his face.

“Uh, we were rescuing these two people by going down the elevator shaft. Halfway through it started creaking and coming down. It-” Eddie has to swallow thickly when reliving the moment. “It nearly killed Buck. I- I thought I was going to lose him.”

“You didn’t lose me,” Buck says, squeezing Eddie’s shoulder and looking him in the eye intently.

You can see how Eddie melts when he meets Buck’s eyes and Hen’s heart does a little ‘ahw’ at the sight, momentarily forgetting she’s annoyed with them.

“And so what? You just kissed him or some shit?” Chimney asks, ruining the moment.

Eddie snaps out of his getting lost in Buck’s eyes shtick and blushes brightly, not meeting anyone’s eyes as he does. Delighted, Chimney crows: “Oh wow, you totally just kissed him.”

“It was romantic!” Eddie protests.

“I liked it,” Buck pipes up.

Wildly, he gestures at Buck. “See, he liked it.”

“God, you two are made for each other,” Hen mutters to herself.

Before it can all spiral again, Bobby comes back carrying a stack of paper. He puts two piles down on the table and says: “You two need to fill these in, before you can continue answering questions. I’ll hand them over to the brass with my observations and we’ll see what they decide. Until then, we work this shift as usual. No funny business.”

Eddie is still pink, but Buck mostly looks sheepish. Both of them say: “Yes, sir,” before sitting down and filling in the paperwork.

Hen can tell Bobby and Chimney are itching to ask more as much as she is. However, they all wait until Buck and Eddie filled in all the paperwork before they do. The second they hand it over, Chimney starts asking something, but before he can even finish the first sound, Bobby cuts him off by stating: “You both wrote down that you’re married.”

Chimney chokes on whatever he was going to say, coughing a few times, before he squeezes out: “I thought only lesbians moved that fast,” which makes Hen snort.

Bobby sends Buck and Eddie a concerned look. “Is that true? Are you two married?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” Eddie says.

“We thought it’d be best to just be honest now that it’s real,” Buck adds.

And Hen remembers they didn’t say, because it wasn’t real anyway. She supposes that has changed, though she can’t believe this is the way they’re sharing that. They are so dumb, she thinks to herself.

“And how long has that been going on?”

“A few years, Cap,” Buck grins, only mildly apologetic.

Again all hell breaks lose and this time Hen exclaims, “Oh my god,” out loud, before needing to walk away, just be anywhere but there. She already knows the story anyway and she cannot deal with any of this right now.

She goes to the locker rooms and just sits down for a moment, needing to regroup. This is both the funniest thing that has ever happened to her and one of the more off the walls things, which is saying a lot given her line of work.

Without thinking, she pulls out her phone and dials the most familiar number. After a few rings, Karen picks up. Hen doesn’t greet her, just says: “You’re never going to guess what just happened.”

A/N:

My toxic writer trait (joking) is that I will find a reason to insert Karen Wilson (and Henren in general) into any 9-1-1 fic if I can, I am a lesbian and I shall not be shamed xp

(I hate the cheater arc so goddamn much and I hate that it became relevant in the main fic and I am very happily cutting it here <3)

Also I really liked exploring Hen’s POV when she thought Buck just wasn’t out, because it’s not morally wrong to be closeted, to not want to share that, especially at work. It doesn’t make you a bad person to keep things private, no matter how accepting an environment will probably be. And it was so interesting – and a little cathartic (hi, semi-closeted bitch here) – to write those little moments where it was obvious to Hen, because she knew, but not to anyone else and how that can hurt sometimes.

I am not immune to Karen and Eddie becoming besties, it is a good fanon trope and I gladly incorporate it into my perception of the show

And I know, a little fade to black ending, but this already got too far out of hand and I thought it was a neat little ending :D

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uselessnbee · 2 years ago

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ok now that some time passed i'm gonna be brave and say my opinion

the way this fandom became obsessed with the Will x Edd*e friendship was weird

"oh Edd*e would love Will's art🥺" "Edd*e calling Will 'Will the wise🥺'" you mean the things we associate with Mike and his love for Will?💀

"oh Will would love Edd*e!" "oh Edd*e would love Will!" Edd*e this! Edd*e that!

"if Will was there he would convince Edd*e to postpone the campaign for Lucas' game!" yeah Dustin and Mike tried that stop acting like they didn't what makes you think he would suddenly listen to Will?💀

like sure bro if it's an interesting friendship to you that's cool i wanted them to meet too but the way this fandom became truly completely obsessed was so weird like these bitches didn't even meet probably didn't even know about the other's existence and yall made it into such a big deal and the way yall made Edd*e almost "replace" Mike in some ways or whatever the fuck it was was just weird or the way some people were acting like Edd*e would be Will's big brother figure as if he doesn't already have Jonathan who is also much better than Edd*e could ever be.. it was just too much ...i understand people wondering and enjoying exploring their potential dynamic but that level of obsession did not and still does not make sense to me

(especially because in my opinion they would not be close. Edd*e would throw food or have some of his stupid comments and especially the way he acted about Lucas' game, if Will saw that he would be done with his ass and he sure as hell would not love him like an older brother)

#will byers #byler #anyways stan Jonathan #he's great and not a hypocrite and actually Will's big brother that's always here for him and Will doesn't need Eddie to fullfill that role #and i know i will piss many people off and i don't care this is my opinion and you don't need to agree #and if it bothers you so much just block me #and i also know everyone will be like 'if you hate eddie just say it' but no i do not hate eddie #i actually loved him a lot at first #but i am not blind to his flaws and don't worship him like everyone else #and what pisses me off the most about the level if obsession this fandom had with this friendship #it's only because of the way everyone became obsessed with eddie #but what would make more sense would be the will and argyle friendship if anything #cause you know they actually met :) and we saw their dynamic could be fun :)#but yall don't like him i wonder why :)

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chelseeebe · 3 months ago

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just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here.

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?”

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking.

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.”

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?”

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.”

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.”

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched.

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room.

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it.

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message.

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something.

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much.

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave.

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now.

not if you were sleeping in his bed.

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it.

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done.

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly.

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process.

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips.

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.”

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze.

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation.

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie.

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house.

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre.

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered.

tonight it’s different, you get to pick.

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it.

you land on edward scissorhands.

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble.

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath.

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way.

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary.

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on.

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you.

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone.

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive.

it’s torturous.

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding.

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night.

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know.

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land.

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act.

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core.

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour.

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case.

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him.

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief.

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips.

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red.

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears.

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt.

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand.

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?”

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was.

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up.

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?”

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off.

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away.

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek.

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window.

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?”

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started.

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out.

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please.

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him.

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article.

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,”

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making.

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did.

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across.

if only she knew.

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria.

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now.

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties.

eddie can’t take it anymore.

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer.

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure.

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport.

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women.

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand.

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down.

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful.

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones.

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much.

“you want some help with that?”

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion.

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs.

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager.

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame.

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric.

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house.

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin.

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking.

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears.

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was.

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch.

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere.

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house.

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute.

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life.

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year ago

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Good People

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.

Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.

He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.

Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.

Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.

"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.

"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.

A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."

"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."

"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.

"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"

"Well, because he's your family."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."

"That's different!"

"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.

"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."

"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"

"Yes!"

"But why?" Eddie presses.

"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"

"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."

"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."

Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.

"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."

"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."

"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."

Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.

"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."

"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"

"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.

Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.

He's got some thinking to do.

#steddie #my fic #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne pov #wayne doesnt like steve and steve cannot accept that #not doing a readmore because its very short.

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devondespresso · 2 months ago

Text

Let Me Raise The Bar

T | 3,602 words | Steddie | also on ao3! | Modern AU, Meet Cute, Fluff

This fic is for the @strangerthingswritersguild fic exchange, by @starryeyedjanai and @devondespresso. Thank you to @dreamwatch and @bubblesandink for betaing for me!! <3

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

edit: oh my god i forgot the keep reading the first time im so sorry guys

This night is going terribly.

He keeps telling himself he’ll delete all his dating apps for good, but the prospect of being alone forever always has him re-downloading them.

Right now, he’s remembering why he hates them so much.

He hates Tinder, specifically—guys on Tinder only want to fuck. And if that was what he was looking for, that’d be fine, great even!

But he wants a relationship and guys on Tinder will say they want one too and then turn around and leave right after they get what they want.

At least guys on Grindr are upfront about it being just a hookup—no one’s getting their hopes up or feelings hurt when it turns out to be just that.

Tinder guys will take you on a date and pretend to be interested in you as a person and then won't fucking text back after they leave your apartment the next morning. It’s annoying and it’s frustrating and it’s a waste of Steve's fucking time at this point.

And this guy tonight isn't even trying to pretend. He tried to get Steve to blow him in his apartment building garage before they even left for the date and he really should have taken that for the red flag that it was.

But Steve looks good, and he did his hair routine that takes entirely too fucking long for no one to appreciate it.

His date drives him to this hole in the wall restaurant that Steve must have passed a million times on the bus ride to his job without ever noticing.

He thought he might be able to turn things around when they got there—it’s a small Italian place, a real family-owned type vibe to it. He knows before he even orders that the food is going to be some of the best he’s tasted since moving here.

He tries asking the typical first date questions to get to know him, but his date keeps giving him short answers. So he switches to talking about himself a little, but then he realizes his date’s been staring at his mouth the whole time he’s been talking and Steve finally snaps that he isn't getting into his pants.

Steve breathes out a deep sigh as his “date” gets up and goes to the bathroom. Some fucking date this is—they haven't even gotten their fucking food yet. What a disaster.

“Hey,” he hears their waiter—Eddie, his nametag reminds Steve when he looks up—say after a minute of his date being gone. “I hate to be the bearer of super bad news, but I just saw your date slip out the back door, and I don't know if he’s planning on coming back.”

There's a lilt of sympathy in his voice and Steve can't help but snort.

“Of course he did,” Steve says. “Why can't guys just be upfront about what they want? It would save everyone so much time.”

He’s not looking for an answer, but Eddie's mouth twists and he says, “Guys are stupid. I mean, they’d have to be to give up the chance to get to know someone as cute as you.”

Steve can't really muster up a smile at the pity, so he says, “Well, whatever the case, he was my ride home, so I think I need to call a Lyft now. Can you box the food up and bring me the check?” At least he’ll have lunch for tomorrow, which doesn't feel like an adequate consolation prize for how shitty he feels right now.

Eddie shakes his head and says, “There’s no way I’m letting you pay for such a shitty date.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie continues, “Tell you what, my shift ends in ten minutes. Why don't I show you how I’d treat you if we went on a date.”

Steve's heart thuds in his chest, a flicker of hope in this incredibly dull evening. “Seriously?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Think of it as a trial run. See if I rank good enough for a real one.” He winks and Steve finds himself nodding dumbly, still shocked at the rapid turn of events.

“Okay,” Steve says, kind of breathless.

Eddie heads back to finish cleaning up his other tables before he ends his shift, and Steve fills Robin in over text about what happened.

He’s still waiting for a response when Eddie shows back up with two plates of food, setting one in front of Steve and the other where his date sat before sliding into the chair across from him.

He’s wearing a different shirt, Steve realizes. It also looks like he attempted to wrangle his curly hair into something more manageable, maybe sprayed some water on it to smooth it down.

The thought that this guy, this random guy who happened to be his waiter on this horrific night, would put in more effort than his previous date makes Steve's cheeks get hot.

Maybe this night really can turn around.

“Alright, names. Hi, I'm Eddie.” Eddie says, sticking his hand out across the table cartoonishly for a handshake. Steve suppresses a laugh and takes Eddie’s hand with a smile.

“Steve.” He says, and Eddie’s eyes brighten before he takes his hand back.

“So, Steve, what do you do for fun?” Eddie says, leaning forward slightly with vibrant confidence, tone feeling more and more noticeably rehearsed as he goes. “Other than light up the room with that smile, of course.”

Steve huffs a laugh, blushing despite himself.

“You practice that one a lot?”

Eddie shrinks back a little, still smiling even as he messes with the hair on the back of his neck, already starting to ruffle what he’d tried to tame.

“Yeah, it’s uh…”

“It’s sweet.” Steve leans in a little closer himself, trying to match the effort Eddie keeps putting in. “Almost as sweet as the smile you're wearing.”

Eddie flushes pink and lets out a little “Thank you” to cover a nervous laugh—and christ, Steve is already hooked.

Steve hums and grabs his fork to start eating and Eddie mirrors him.

“Thank you for this by the way.” Steve continues, “Tonight's been… ugh, you know.”

“A special kind of shitty?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “So all this is… really nice.”

“I'm glad.” Eddie says, voice soft before he shrugs and continues casually “M’hoping I’ll at least do better than the last guy.”

“Yeah, of course, you haven’t even asked me to blow you yet or anything.”

Eddie turns red and busts out a nervous laugh, looking away immediately. God, he’s so fucking cute.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm not–” Eddie looks back at him, nervous still, but sincere anyway, “That's not exactly my style.”

“You a wine and dine kinda guy?”

Eddie shrugs lightly, then he seems to get an idea, leaning in again with a smile “Actually– ideally, I'm a dine and mine kinda guy.”

A smile takes over Steve’s face that he can’t fully tamp down, a little flustered and a lot amused.

Eddie preens, then continues with a shy smile.

“Though, uh, usually it's more dine and…” Eddie pauses, “Pine. Dine and pine. You know, like pining.”

Steve makes his face relax as he nods and leans back. “Oh, yeah, like the tree.”

Eddie stops and looks at Steve, and soon Steve’s smile breaks out again.

“No, I know what you mean.” He says with a little laugh that Eddie quickly mirrors.

Eddie visibly relaxes, slouching overdramatically to the side with a sigh.

“God, I swear I’m usually good at this sort of thing, words and stories and shit,” He groans, gesturing around almost like he’s talking to himself, “But apparently I meet one pretty boy and suddenly I’ve got screws loose. And they’re all falling out, all across the floor, ‘there they go!’, y’know?”

Steve bites back a snicker and hums a quiet agreement. Eddie notices, though, looks up and sees right to Steve’s amusement, so Steve decides to save them both the embarrassment and move on.

“So your job. You like it here?

“Oh yeah, absolutely,” Eddie says, perking up and gesturing as he starts talking, “The owners are really cool, they were our neighbors– Wayne’s—my uncle’s—neighbors when I first moved in with him, way way back, and they were so chill, loved having people over. Then one time in highschool I mentioned saving up ‘cause I’m trying to make it big with my band, and they offered to give me a job here while we get there.”

“That’s awesome. Your band any good?”

“Depends on who you ask.” Eddie laughs, playing with the food on his plate, “Wayne says we’re pretty good, which is probably the equivalent of moms showing up to their toddler’s dance recitals, but it’s something.”

“Where'd you guys play?”

“The Hideout, a couple blocks down…”

Steve nods.

“Yeah, it’s, uh, pretty fun if you ever wanted to stop by.“

“Sounds like a great second date.”

Eddie blushes, playing with his hair again as he smiles and looks away.

“I’ll probably have to wear earplugs– not because of your band or–”

“No, no, no, you’re good–” Eddie says, almost jumping up to reassure him, “It’s metal, that’s normal– good, even.”

“Oh– good.” Steve says, a bit awkwardly, and looks back down to his food.

Eddie leaves barely a moment of silence before he pulls the conversation back together.

“So what about you? You just a professional bad-Tinder-dater?”

Steve huffs and fiddles with his fork.

“Guidance counselor, actually.”

“Oh damn, really?”

“Yeah, Middle school.”

“Oh god,” Eddie groans playfully, “I can't imagine going back there willingly.”

“Yeah, I mean, it can get pretty rough,” Steve shrugs, “It's good though. Kids start thinking about who they are, I get to try and make that a little less shitty.”

“That’s a tall order.” Eddie laughed into his glass. “I respect it though. Hell, just having a queer adult exist around me would’ve made a lot of it easier.”

“God, yeah. I've got practice, at least, for when they need more than just some guy standing around in an office.” he laughed, pulling out sarcastic air quotes for the next part, “ I ‘babysat’ kids in middle school before I graduated. Bunch of little shits but they were good kids– still are good. They're like four years younger than me though, so they're more like siblings than kids.”

“Yeah, bet they don't take well to ‘kids’.”

“Oh, they hate it.” Steve laughed and Eddie followed with him, “Always hated it, but Dustin put his foot down after highschool. Rob and I call them my ‘twenty-somethings’ now.”

“God, wait, how old are you?” Eddie laughed

“Twenty-six.”

Eddie laughed a little louder, a lively and full laugh that looked enchanting on Eddie.

“You'd love them, they're all–

Steve’s phone buzzes.

Both of them look over to it on the table. Steve moves it to the seat next to him, looked up to Eddie with an apologetic smile.

His phone buzzes again.

And again, and soon Eddie’s eyes flick in that direction, eyebrow quirking with barely-restrained curiosity.

Then Steve’s phone starts ringing, the electric guitars of Hammer To Fall creeping up in volume way too fast for comfort.

“Sorry–” Steve cringes, grabbing his phone and answering the call in a furious whisper, “Robin, are you dying?”

“No, but thank you for confirming that you aren’t.”

“I texted you what happened.”

“Yeah and it was vague as hell! I reserve the right to be a worrywart with this shit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighs, but can’t really argue with her on it. “This was going well, though–”

“Is.” Eddie chimes in, not trying to be loud enough for the phone to pick it up, just for Steve to hear him clearly.

“Is going well.” Steve smiles.

“Oooo okayyy.” Robin hums and Steve can hear her cheeky smile through the phone.

“Goodbye, Robin.” Steve says, failing a half-assed attempt to cover his amusement.

“Oh wait no, tell him if he tries anything I’ll–”

“M’not doing that.”

“I will though, I’ll go after him–”

“Oh woah you’re breaking up, can’t hear you.” Steve deadpans.

“Steve, I know–”

“Love you, bye–”

“Steeeeve–”

“Don’t pull your hair out.” Steve says and hangs up, coming back to the present to Eddie watching him, thankfully looking amused instead of annoyed.

“Sorry about that.” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Eddie leans forward again, propping his head up in one hand, “So… friend?”

“Best friend, has to be to get away with shit like that so easily.”

Eddie snorts.

“What was she calling about?”

“I wasn’t clear that this new date thing was gonna be a good thing.”

Eddie nods civilly.

“She worries,” Steve continues, “Fuckin’ tinder dates, y’know?”

“Uh, not really….” Eddie smiles.

“Good for you. They’re all the same asshole in a different haircut.” Steve says, and Eddie smiles, laughing a little with him before continuing with something calmer, a little more earnest.

“Then why keep going to them?”

Steve shrugs.

“Call me an optimist, I guess.”

Eddie hums noncommittally, like he’s thinking more than he’s sharing, and continues the conversation in a lighter direction.

The rest of the date is wonderful. A little less chaotic, especially once they start finally eating their food for real, but what it lacks in eventfulness it makes up for in comfort. They’re not exactly quiet, but Eddie’s energy always comes with a sincerity underneath, like he’s bold and fun because he just is, and not because he’s making himself be.

It’s refreshing. And as the night goes on, it becomes intoxicating.

So when Eddie offers to save him the Lyft fee and just drive Steve home, Steve agrees, just to get a little longer in Eddie’s bubble.

Eddie leads him through the restaurant and out the back into a small parking lot with a handful of cars and one big van, decorated with a clearly hand-painted dragon on the side. Which, of course, ends up being Eddie’s.

“Dustin would love this thing.” Steve says as he hops into the passenger’s seat, not really thinking twice about it as he looks at the interior, eyes lingering on the big fuzzy dice with too many sides hanging from the mirrors.

“So Dustin is…?”

“A Twenty-something.” Steve laughs as he spins the fuzzy dice to see all of its sides. “He’s like my little brother. Loves DnD and science and… all the nerd shit.”

“Nerd shit?”

“Yeah, I mean– it's not my thing but it’s cool. I’ve played with Dustin and them a couple times.”

“Oooo, a bit of a nerd, are we?” Eddie hums in a weird, almost witchy voice.

“Casually.”

“Mmm, but you’re already down the path~~”

“Just drive, dude.” Steve says with a fond eye roll.

“As you wish, your majesty.” Eddie hums in his normal voice, giving Steve a glowing glance before shoving the keys in.

“Alright, I'm about to push your nerd-tolerance to its limits.” Eddie says, pulling out his phone with a grin. He connects it to the car and quickly turns it down before drums and guitar erupt from the speakers, and Steve flinches at the volume.

“Sorry, sorry.” Eddie whispers and turns down the music again.

Steve nods, and after a second of the music playing much more quietly, he finds it much more comfortable. Nice, even. The energy is quick and alive like Eddie is, though the aggressive vocals fit his outward aesthetic more than his borderline goofy demeanor.

“It’s not the music, I promise.” Steve says, saying it casually but meaning it sincerely.

“You’re fine, I get it.” Eddie laughs, a little too cynically for Steve’s liking.

“No, I–” Steve reaches for Eddie’s hand between them, intertwining fingers and bringing both hands up between them, “I’m serious, I like it. My head’s a little sensitive, been hit a few too many times, but it’s nice. It’s bold and very energetic… stuff that I already like about you.”

Eddie blushes hard—a sweet cherry pink—as he slouches, bringing their joined hands closer to his face like he’s trying to hide behind them. Eddie rests his forehead against the back of Steve’s hand and huffs a quiet laugh.

“God, you’re quite the charmer, Stevie.” Eddie says, and Steve finds his face warming too.

“And I’m guessing it’s working?” Steve laughs.

Eddie looks up at him, smiling wide.

“Oh, it’s working very well.” Eddie says, and brings their hands closer to him again to plant a soft kiss onto Steve’s hand.

Steve’s face goes warm again, lights him on fire, and Eddie’s smile turns slightly smug before he looks away.

“Alright,” Eddie says, looking back to the front to drive but not letting go of Steve’s hand. He even reaches his left arm over to change the gears, leaning into how silly he looks to make Steve laugh.

It’s sweet, it's genuine, and it's everything to Steve.

Eddie starts driving, hand still firmly holding onto Steve’s, neither of them willing to let go first. Steve looks at it as Eddie drives, splitting most of his attention between their hands, Eddie’s profile lit up by the colorful city lights, and the road ahead as he navigates Eddie to his apartment.

And if they miss a turn or two because Steve’s tired brain doesn’t want to watch the damn road? Eddie doesn’t mention it.

“Alright.” Eddie says, putting the car into park with his left hand again, though far less comically now.

He sits there for a second, quiet like something’s on his mind, so Steve waits.

“Okay, uh,” Eddie starts, looking vaguely down as he wanders through what he wants to say, “I had fun, I’m assuming by how the nights gone that you did, too…”

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand, and Eddie laughs.

“I had a really great time. And I want to do this again, if you want to.” Eddie glances up at Steve for a second before his eyes dart away again. “But I want to be sure you’re… you’re not being an optimist with me. That you want want this, y’know, because you're an amazing guy, Stevie. I don’t know how you keep having such shit luck but believe me when I tell you it's not because of you.”

Eddie looks back up at him again and keeps his gaze there, looking more relaxed now.

“So, uh, I would love to take you out again.” Eddie says, “If you want to.”

If he wants to, as if that's not the most romantic thing Steve’s heard in his life.

Steve almost says that. He also debates kissing him or pulling him into an awkward hug over the center console that he’s sure would be put up with no matter how uncomfortable it’d be. But Steve doesn’t, because Eddie continues before Steve can make a decision.

“What do you want?”

Steve resists the urge to say a cheesy ‘You’ and thinks about it, really thinks so he can put together words that make sense, so he can give Eddie a real answer.

“I want a long relationship. A real one, y’know?”

Eddie nods.

“And I want to get married, someday. I want someone who’ll stay that long, who will love and let me love them, all cheesy and clingy and shit.”

Eddie hums, searching Steve’s face.

“And?”

Steve looks down at the joined hands between them.

“And I’d love if it were you. You’re sweet, so sweet, but you’re also… alive. Everything you do, you’re…” Steve thinks hard for a moment, working out how to phrase it. “It’s like the world doesn’t weigh you down. And you’re so genuine and you’ll come and say what you mean like it’s nothing, and I think every one of the people in my life—my favorite people—would love being around you almost as much as I do.”

Steve looks back up to him, face hot with another intense flush, and tries to smile casually.

“Hate to break it to you, dude, but you’re kinda my perfect man.”

Eddie huffs a breathy laugh, face painted with disbelief and wonder.

“Okay, then. Case closed.”

“Yeah,” Steve hums, with as much fondness as possible. Steve leans in across the center console, bringing a hand up slowly, trying to signal that he’s leaning in for a kiss.

It takes Eddie a second, and Steve gets to watch him look down at Steve’s hand and look at Steve leaning in, gets to see the moment it clicked before Eddie lunges to meet him halfway and then some, making the hand that was supposed to cradle Eddie’s face hold onto the seat beneath him to keep their balance.

Eddie kisses him hard at first, bringing a hand up to card through Steve’s hair, excited and alive. Then Eddie seems to come back to his senses, moving back but taking Steve with him until they’re both leaning over the center again.

Their kiss softens, intensity melting out into fondness, gentle but passionate, warm and Steve wants to melt from it.

Still, Steve’s going home tonight, going to go upstairs to Robin and tell her all about it. He’ll get to have a good night's sleep in a bed that doesn’t need cleaning, and he’ll get to wake up to the idea of something new brewing fresh in his mind.

Steve pulls back gently and Eddie does the same, eyes flicking open one after the other, a smile on Steve’s face and another lighting up Eddie’s.

Steve catches his breath, feeling lighter now than he has in ages, and Eddie opens his mouth to say something again.

“Does this mean I can get your number?”

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie fluff #fluff #modern au #happy ending #devon's writings

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munsonsmixtapes · 18 days ago

Text

Billy Doesn't Know

virgin!Eddie x experienced!fem!reader

summary: You and Billy have been hooking up and it isn't until you sleep with Eddie that you realize what you really like.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) grinding, sub!Eddie, dom!reader, Billy just generally being a dick but that’s not new, use of pet names all by reader (baby and good boy) hurt/no comfort

100% based on the song "Scotty Doesn't Know" by Lustra

part two

You pull up to Billy’s house, for some reason dreading seeing him. You don’t know why, though. You’re kind of over him and his attitude, but there’s something that keeps you coming back. You feel a pit forming in your stomach as you head up the steps to the house. You honestly feel so sick and you know exactly why. You’re becoming tired of Billy and the kind of guy he is and have wanted to break things off for a while. That’s the whole reason why you’re there, but you’re contemplating turning around and heading back home.

You’re scared to tell him the truth. You’re afraid of what he might do, especially when he finds out why you’re breaking things off with him. Not only is he a complete dick to not only you, but everyone around you, but you’ve also just gotten bored of him. Well, that and you’ve found someone else. Someone who you knew actually wanted to be with you, unlike Billy.

As soon as you knock on the door, it’s ripped open and you’re pushed against it just like always. You don’t even know what he’s doing, that’s not why you’re there and he knows it. His hand reaches for the buttons of your jeans anyway and you’re quick to stop him.

“Wait,” you put your hand on top of Billy’s, preventing him from going further. He pulls back to look at you, frustration clear on his face which isn’t uncommon for him. It seems like he always has some sort of stick up his ass.

“What,” he spits. There’s a fire in his eyes, and not the one you’re used to, this look is murderous and for once, you’re not scared. God forbid Bill doesn’t get what he wants for once.

“Can’t we just talk?” He lets out a laugh at that, moving away from you completely. Talk? The only kind of talking that Billy does is dirty talk.

“Talk,” he laughs harder. “We don’t talk. We either fuck or we don’t.” That’s something that bugs you about Billy. He never wants to just have a conversation like a normal person. He’s always quick to try to fuck you. And even when he does talk to you, it’s always got sexual undertones and you don’t like that. The more you think about it, the more you realize that he doesn’t really have any redeeming qualities. Sure, he’s stupidly hot and knows how to fuck, but that’s pretty much it. He doesn’t have anything else going for him and that’s so disappointing to you. He could do and be so much more, but he’s not and he won’t. He’ll just continue to be a pig for the rest of his life.

“Well, right now I don’t want to.” That strikes a nerve and you can see it. If there’s one thing that he hates is being told no. Especially when it comes to being denied sex. Because the only person Billy cares about is Billy. He’s way too in love with him to think that anyone could possibly hate him.

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?” He moves over to the back of the couch. He wants the word to hurt you, but it doesn’t. He’s called you that so many times that it’s lost all of its meaning.

“Well, so are you,” you retort and you swear you can see his lips twitch, wanting to say something but he holds back for whatever reason. “You can’t just make me fuck you, Billy.” He could, but he’s not going to do that. Because as much of an absolute dick Billy could be, he’d never fuck a woman without her consent.

“Get the fuck out,” he points to the door, but you’re still standing there, your arms crossed over your chest.

“Fine.” You turn to leave, but he speaks up before you can.

“Hey,” he says and you turn around, hoping for an apology, but you know you’re not going to get one.

“What,” you snap, angry at him for being mad at you since you didn’t do anything wrong. But Billy will say differently. Hell tell you that you should have just fucked him, but that makes you even more angry. Maybe one of these days you’ll actually have the guts to leave him for good.

“There’s a party at Nancy’s on Saturday and we’re going.” Billy is always wanting to crash people’s parties but that’s where you draw the line. No way are you letting him crash your friend’s party. And no way are you bringing him as your plus one. You’re going to this alone. And maybe you’ll fuck someone in the Wheeler’s guest bedroom just because you can.

“Nancy doesn’t like you.” Nancy really doesn’t like him. She even told you not to bring him.

“But she likes you and I’m your plus one.” You hate that he just claims things like that. Giving you no say in the matter. You don’t like being told what to do.

“You hate everyone who’s going to be there. You just want the free booze and to fuck someone in the Wheeler’s guest bedroom.” You’re right and Billy doesn’t like that you know him so well. He doesn’t like how close you’ve gotten. If he was in his right mind, he’d tell you that he didn’t want to see you anymore. And he should, but he doesn’t because he can’t.

“Right on the money, doll. You’re not as dumb as you look.” He’s told you the exact opposite on multiple occasions so now you know he’s just trying to get under your skin. He loves pissing you off. It always makes him unbelievably hard and now he’s going to have to rub one out when you leave.

“Fuck you, Billy.” He doesn’t like that the words sting as much as they do. They feel like a stab to the heart, especially since they’re coming from you. Especially since it’s his fault you’re acting like this.

“Oh, but you already have,” he winks, taking another drag. You should’ve known he was going to respond like that. He’s always thinking dirty. Sex is always on his mind. “Now get out.”

“Oh, so you can call one of your other hookups?” He won’t and you know that. He’ll just jack off to the thought of nothing but you.

“Yep,” he collapses onto the couch. “you’re boring me.” He takes another cigarette from his jacket pocket before lighting it and taking a drag. “I’ll just call Stacy or Jackie.” He blows the smoke into the air and you stand there, trying to not look so pissed off even though both know he’s full of shit.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just leave then.” You give him one last chance to make it up to you, but he seems pretty stubborn tonight.

“Good.” He doesn’t even bother to look up at you. “We’re done here.”

“Fine.” For once, you’re actually glad he’s kicking you out. You can’t stand to look at him anymore as all it does is make you angry.

“You’re getting the weed,” Billy tells you as he tosses a twenty dollar bill your way. Ever since the two of you had gotten close, you had been the designated person to buy the weed and whatever other drug Billy wanted for the party he was going to. You haven’t even actually been invited and he still expects you to help him out just because the two of you are sleeping together.

“Why me?” You asked as you stuff the cash into your bra even though you know exactly why.

“Because you’re hot.” It’s more than that, though. But you don’t want Billy to know exactly how Eddie feels about you. That will just create a mess and you don’t want to give Billy yet another reason to hate Eddie. “And that freak always sells it to you for significantly less than it’s worth.”

He’s already been calling him a freak just like the rest of Hawkins and you don’t understand why they’re all so horrible to him. He seems to just be misunderstood.

“Or it’s because Eddie doesn’t like you and refuses to sell to you because you’re a dick.” That’s very true, you had heard the words from the metal head himself and don’t blame him one bit for it.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he spits, standing from the couch and grabbing hold of your arm. It’s moments like this when you wonder why you’ve been spending so much time with him. You want to cut ties, but you’re scared of what will happen if you try. It’s not unlike Billy to get violent when things don’t go his way.

“Or what?” You spit back. “You know you won’t hurt me so I don’t even know why you try to threaten me.”

“The party’s at seven. Be ready. And wear something slutty.” You know exactly what’s going to happen next. Billy’s going to pick you up tomorrow and you’re going to act like nothing happened. That’s what you always do. You don’t have it in yourself to stay mad at him for long. Especially when he can be so sweet sometimes.

“I’m actually going alone.” You emphasize the word to piss him off but he couldn’t give less of a fuck right now. At least, that’s what he’s telling himself. “So have a good night, Billy. And while you’re falling asleep alone tonight, remember that this is your fault. It’s always your fucking fault.”

Really, the only reason why you’ve stuck around for so long was because of Max. She had become like a little sister to you and you felt the need to protect her from her older brother. You’ve seen just how horribly he’s treated her since he didn’t seem to mind yelling at her in front of you. Some days, you’ll come over just to spend time with her. When Billy’s at work, you’ll take her out for ice cream or shopping, just so she knows that she has someone who was on her side.

“Get out,” he says, letting go of your arm and pointing towards his front door. Of course you had angered him. It seems like he always has a temper of some sort. You know where it comes from, but still don’t think he deserves to treat you or anyone else like that. And you make sure to let him know that, not afraid to stand up to him if you have to.

“Gladly.” You head towards the door and pull it open, making sure to slam it once you go through it.

You mutter to yourself all the way to your car, even as you’re getting in it. Once inside, you turn on the ignition and the music from the station you had turned it to blasts through the speakers and you feel like your ears are ringing because of how loud it is.

Once the shock wears off, you turn the volume down and open your glove box, on the hunt for one of your mix tapes. Once you find one, you flip it over and notice that it has your name scrawled across it with the number three next to it in the messy handwriting you’ve become so familiar with.

You put it in and turn up the volume as you nod your head to the song, absentmindedly heading in the opposite direction of home. You don’t want to go there just yet. And before you know it, you’re pulling into the all too familiar trailer park, parking once you pull up to the trailer with the familiar van outside it.

You’re still angry at Billy so you’re not sure why you’re even there. You need to let off some steam, but you’re not sure that this is the place to do it. You’re not even sure that Eddie would be into what you’re thinking. He was just a friend after all and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by telling him that you wanted to fuck him nor the fact that you had been crushing on him for quite some time.

But you get out of the car anyway, heading to the door and knocking on it. A string of curse words can be heard from the other side, followed by a very loud “shit!” and a loud clatter. You step away from the door as it opens and there’s Eddie on the other side, dusting off his jeans while simultaneously looking like he’s out of breath.

“Are you okay?” You ask as you step closer to him, reaching out to touch him, but he backs away. He can’t let you do that without wanting more. He wants to kiss you, maybe even more. Definitely more, but he’s not going to do anything about it. He can’t. Not if he wants to keep you as a friend. And it’s not like you’d want to fuck Eddie “the freak” Munson anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just tripped.” He doesn’t want to tell you that he watched your car pull up from the window in his living room, hoping that you had been there for him even though he knows you aren’t. Because he’s just your dealer and nothing else. That’s all he ever is and that’s all he ever will be. It all just makes sense that way in his mind.

Eddie’s not the kind of guy people marry or date. He’s the kind of guy people fuck just to get it out of their systems then swear him to secrecy because they’re too embarrassed to tell anyone that they’ve actually fucked him. Not that he’s fucked anyone anyway. And it’s not by choice, it’s just-who would want to do all that with him? He’s a freak, a nobody in everyone’s eyes and he hates that he thinks that badly of himself but he can’t help it.

But if he’s being honest, though he’d never admit it, you’re the only one he’d want to be his first. He knows you’d be nothing but sweet and encouraging, but he’ll never bring the idea up to you. He can’t. It’s far too embarrassing and there’s no fucking way his shy, awkward self would ever get the guts to ask anyway. Not for lack of trying. He wants to, he wants to so badly, but how can he do that when everyone avoids him like the plague?

And he knows that you’ll run from the hills if you ask, terrified to ruin what the two of you have, your friendship having already become very important even though it had only been a few months. And he absolutely can’t risk losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He just can’t.

“Are you sure?” You ask, resting your hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze and Eddie swears he can feel the warmth of your skin through his shirt, hating himself because he’s wondering what they would feel like elsewhere-god, when had he become so needy for someone else in that department? His lotion, sock, and his hand usually did the trick, but now he kind of wants you to do it for him.

“I’m fine,” he steps away, fear very evident in those pretty brown eyes and now you’re really worried about him. You step closer and now you’re both in the kitchen and he’s backed up against the sink, really grateful that you can’t read his mind, because you surely would leave if you could.

Your hand reaches up and runs through his hair, giving his scalp a scratch and he leans into your touch, his eyes closing as he hums, loving the way it feels. He wants you to pull on it as he fucks into you hard and deep, the prettiest moans falling from your lips.

“What’s going on, baby?” You ask, your voice so soft and gentle and Eddie doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone as wonderful as you. “You’re not behaving like yourself.” He wants to lay it all out on the table right there, to tell you how crazy you’ve been driving him and just how often you’ve been the star of his late night fantasies, just how many wet dreams he’s had about you.

“I can’t tell you,” he says as his eyes open, turning his head to the side because he can’t look at your pretty face anymore, but your hands move to his cheeks, turning his head to face forward, but he still won’t look you in the eye.

“You can tell me,” you encourage, your voice still soft, trying your best to tread lightly. His eyes finally look into yours and you swear that his are misty. Your thumbs rub back and forth across his cheeks, trying your best to comfort him, trying to figure out what it is that he’s so upset about.

You press yourself against him and if you can feel his rock hard cock you don’t say anything. You just pull him into a hug, catching Eddie completely off guard but eventually, he wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath and gets a whiff of your perfume that he immediately finds intoxicating.

You can hear him mumble something against your skin, but are entirely unsure what he had been saying, wanting him to repeat it. “What was that, baby?” You ask, your hand moving up to stroke his hair, but he doesn’t answer you, his face curling further into your neck as his hands crumple your shirt in his fists.

“You can tell me,” you assure him. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, especially not around me.”

He then pulls back to look at you, slowly, his embarrassment trying to take over but he chokes it down. He gulps then looks you right in the eyes, his boring into yours and now you’re on the edge of your seat, so interested in what he has to say.

“I-” he cuts himself off then takes a deep breath before starting again. “I want you to kiss me.” His voice is so low that you almost don’t hear him, but when you finally understand what he’s saying, you let out a laugh, and not because you thought it was funny but because you thought he was so goddamn adorable.

“You’re so cute,” you reply, your arms wrapping around his neck as you push yourself into him once again. “If you want to kiss me, then kiss me, baby.”

He stays quiet for a moment, pursing his lips as if he’s thinking. Then the words that follow truly shock you. “I don’t know how,” he says, his voice still small and god, you just want to pull him into your arms and hold them there forever in order to protect him. This was the guy that everyone was so afraid of? He was nothing but precious and you didn’t understand why the entirety of Hawkins seemed to hate him.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?” You ask in shock, moreso surprised that no one has wanted to kiss him. That’s something that isn’t computing in your head in any way shape or form. And thinking about the fact that he wants you to be his first warmes your heart. You’re nothing but honored.

“No,” he shakes his head before lowering it. You hate that he’s so embarrassed by it all. There’s no reason why he should be as everyone goes at their own pace and it’s not his fault that no one wants to kiss him. Well, no one except for you.

“Well I’d be honored to be your first,” you reply, watching those pretty brown eyes widen.

“You’d really kiss me?” He asks as if he can’t possibly conceptualize it. And he can’t. Up until now, everyone had made it clear that they wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole, that he’s a freak, that he’ll just end up alone.

“Of course I would,” you nod furiously, a wide grin on your face and Eddie’s convinced that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“What if I suck?” It’s so cute that he cares so much, wanting to make the experience enjoyable for you.

“You won’t,” you assure him. “Because I’m going to teach you.”

“But what about Billy?” The name makes you freeze, your blood already simmering, but not quite to a boil yet. Why does he care so much about Billy?

“What about Billy, Eddie?” the words come out more harsh than you anticipate and you find yourself feeling guilty as he leans back, afraid.

“Aren’t you two together.” You let out a loud laugh as if you genuinely find the whole thing funny. You and Billy? Billy couldn’t be a boyfriend if his life depended on it. He’s told you as much more times than you can count and you’re beginning to wonder why you ever wanted him to be that in the first place.

“Not even close. We just fuck sometimes.” There’s a feeling rising in the pit of his stomach and he’s unsure what it is. All he knows is that he hates that Billy is able to get into your pants whenever he wants, especially acts like-well, Billy. What’s so special about him, anyway? Why does he get all the girls when he acts like an asshole? Is that why Eddie’s unable to get any? Because he’s too nice?

“So you’re not-”

“Completely unattached,” you cut him off, leaning forward so that your lips ghost over his, brushing against them and Eddie’s eyes flutter shut and you let him take the lead, wanting him to do whatever he wanted, wanting him to feel comfortable.

His lips press against yours gently in a featherlight peck as his hands move to hold onto your arms, feeling his hands shake against the sleeves of your shirt and your heart is about to burst as how absolutely adorable he is. You think he’s going to deepen it but he pulls away before you’re ready, his hands still shaking like leaves.

Your eyes open and you can see the pink in his cheeks, his lips parting as if he’s going to say something and you know he wants to. He always wants to speak and you think that’s your favorite thing about him. You love that he talks to you differently from his other friends. That he feels like he can tell you things he’s afraid to tell other people.

“How was that?” He asks, chewing on his bottom lip as you subconsciously twirl one of his curls around your pointer finger.

“That was perfect,” you respond with a soft smile and watch his eyebrows furrow in confusion. You don’t know why he’s so confused. Consent is so important to you and you’d never want to do anything that made him uncomfortable.

“Can I-” he licks his lips as he pulls you closer. “Can I try again?”

“Of course you can,” you nod and he leans forward, his hands still gripping your shirt as he pulls you in. His lips capture your bottom one and just when you think he’s going to go for it, he pauses, his eyes wide as it finally hits him what he’s doing.

You take the lead now, your lips moving against his still ones as he stays frozen, his shoulders locked up right by his ears. But as he slowly follows you, he finds himself melting into you, realizing that it’s not nearly as complicated as initially thought. In fact, it’s so easy, especially when you’re doing a lot of the work.

Your lips are just as soft as he was hoping and he wonders what they taste like, what flavor the sticky lip gloss you’re wearing is. But can’t get himself to go for it, not yet. He just wants to kiss you for now, not quite ready for a makeout session for yet.

You pull away before he’s ready and he feels his cock twitch when he sees your lip gloss smeared, knowing that he was the one to make it look like that. He goes in for more but you’re quick to put your free hand against his chest to hold him back.

“Hold on,” you say. “I just want to tell you a few things before we continue.” He nods and waits for you to speak again. “First off, you need to breathe, baby. Can’t have you passing out on me,” you giggle. “And I don’t know why you were so nervous before. You’re a natural.”

You watch his cheeks blush, that bright red color that always makes you want to pinch them. Before you can register what he’s doing, he’s on you again, this time more rough, his hands clutching onto your shirt for dear life as he kisses you stupid, making you feel dizzy.

Your hands slide into his hair as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip and he slowly opens up, letting you inside. It tangles with his and you hear a loud moan fall from his mouth, feeling yourself getting even more wet. You grab onto his shirt and pull him even closer to you, backing the two of you out of the kitchen as your kisses get even more heated.

Your lips taste like that artificial strawberry flavor and even though Eddie hates that flavor normally, he can’t get enough. It’s intoxicating and he needs more, his tongue sliding into your mouth as your lips wrap around it, giving it a suck, pulling another delicious moan from his mouth.

You find yourself in the living room, your hands moving into his hair, giving it a tug, causing his head to fall back, giving you a perfect opportunity to press your lips to his jaw, moan after moan tumbling from his mouth as his legs start to feel like jello, causing him to fall onto the couch. You can see his cock tenting in his pants and you feel your slick trickling down your leg as you thought about having him deep inside you.

Before you can stop yourself, you straddle his waist as your lips find his, your hands grabbing hold of his own as you move them to your hips, your hands sliding into his hair again as you fingers dig into his scalp, taking what you want from him as he’s pliant under your touch.

You begin to grind against him and Eddie swears that he’s died and gone to heaven. And when your mouth lands on his neck and your lips suck on it-god, he’s going to come right there. He can feel it. He’s gonna let you do this all night if you want to, addicted to the feeling of your mouth on his neck.

And he really does come when your teeth scrape along the sensitive spot, a loud moan falls from his lips as he orgasms for another person for the first time. And god is this so much better than all of the dates he’s had with his hand.

“That’s it, baby,” you coo. “Just like that. You’re doing so good.” He’s realizing now that he has a major praise kink, wanting, needing you to do more of that.

“More,” he whines as you continue to grind against him, and that mixed with how you’re scandalizing his neck is making him overstimulated, but he hardly cares. He’s so high off of his orgasm that he doesn’t give a single fuck. In fact, he’ll let you do whatever you want to him, knowing that you’ll be gentle and caring the whole time.

“Relax, baby. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, hm?” You pull away from him, your lip gloss smeared all across your face now. Eddie’s pupils are blown wide as he stares up at you, his head tilting to the side like a little puppy, giving you a full view of the hickey forming on his neck. “Gotta be a good boy for me if you want your treat.”

“I can be a good boy,” he nods furiously as his eyes get even wider, wanting to do whatever he can to please you. “I can be such a good boy you have no idea.”

You continue to grind against as his fingers dig into the stripe of skin that had been exposed by your shirt riding up. Your hands move to the button of his jeans and you look up at him, making sure that it’s okay if you continue.

“Do it,” he nods. “I trust you.” You can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth, but you have to be sure. You’d hate it if he was only telling you that because you wanted it.

“You really want me to be your first?” You asked, your grinding coming to a halt as you looked him in the eyes, leaning closer to see if he was lying out not.

“More than anything,” he replies, the words coming out more desperate than he intended, his eyes pleading as he looks up at you. They’re now filled with lust and now you know he’s telling the truth so your hands unbutton his jeans as he removes his shirt, his tattoos on display. God, he’s even hotter than you imagined.

You remove yourself from him as his pants come off while you take off your socks and shoes, moving slowly as you catch how he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. And god do you want him to. To bury his head between thighs and eat you for dinner until the early morning so he could have you for breakfast and all the way to lunch and then for dinner again.

You then decide to give him a show, thinking that he’s earned a treat for being such a good boy. You begin stripping off your clothing as slowly as possible, starting with your pants, unzipping them then sliding them down your legs then tossing them to the side.

You then move on to your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion before moving to stand in front of Eddie, pointing to the couch cushion.

“Lie back,” you tell him and he situates himself to lie against the cushions of the couch and you feel yourself getting soaked as straddle his waist, watching him underneath you. He’s so shy and cute and you feel honored that you’re the one he wants to take this big step with. “I just want you to know that just because you give consent doesn’t mean you can’t take it away. If I do something you don’t like or if you want to stop because you’re not ready. Don’t be shy to let me know. I want you to feel safe,” your hand reaches up and caresses his face. “I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I understand,” he nods. “I-I appreciate you being so gentle with me.”

“I’ll always be gentle with you,” you press a kiss to his lips. “Unless you as me not to,” you wink and swear you feel Eddie’s cock twitch against your cunt.

“Take it off for me, will you baby?” You ask and his hands move higher until they reach the back of your bra and you can tell he’s struggling but he eventually gets it, the bra falling between you, your tits on display. Eddie’s staring at them and you don’t have to ask to know what he’s thinking.

You remove yourself from him and hurry to your purse for a condom before taking off your panties and wait for him to do the same with his boxers. Once he’s fully naked, you can’t help but stare down at his cock, surprised by the sheer size of the thing. Who knew that Eddie Munon was packing? You certainly didn’t.

“You’re so big,” you say as your hand wraps around him and he lets out a gasp. “Think it’s all gonna fit?” You ask and Eddie just gulps. “I guess we’ll have to find out,” you smirk.

“Guess we will,” Eddie breathes and you let go of him, opening the condom and putting it on him before your hands rest on his shoulders as you get on top of him again, sinking slowly onto his cock, both of you letting out moans as you did so.

His hands move to your waist as you ride him slowly, not wanting to do too much too fast since it’s his first time. Yours had been nothing but perfect as it had been with Billy. You still remember it like it had just happened even though it had been over two years ago. He was nothing but rough, only wanting to fuck you because he was obsessed with taking your virginity. Like he had a point to prove. And in typical Billy fashion, he didn’t care in the slightest if you enjoyed it, only trying to fulfill his own sick fantasy and that was it.

But with Eddie, you wanted to make sure that it was something he enjoyed, something he looked back on fondly whenever it came to mind. And even if he didn’t enjoy it and asked you to stop, you still hoped it worked out with whoever he had his first time with.

He bucks his hips against yours and you can see on his face that he’s unsure if that’s what he’s supposed to be doing. But by the way you’re moaning and whining he thinks it is. He really doesn’t even know what he’s, just following what he had seen in movies and the occasional porn he had watched when he was sure that Wayne would be home late.

“That’s it baby,” you encourage. “Just like that, such a good boy.” Your words seem to unleash something in him because he’s bucking his hips as hard as he can, moving so fast that it’s hard for you to keep up. And it’s not because he wants to, not at all. It almost seemed like he had a point to prove, that he was trying to show you that he could do it hard.

“Hey, hey,” you push him against the cushions, trying to get his attention. “Slow down, hon. What’s your rush?”

“I just-” he cuts himself off, bringing himself back down onto the cushion, his eyes widening as he’s realized that he’s been caught. “I’m just trying to keep up with Billy, I guess.” He says the words lamely and his voice is so small that you swear you can hear your heart actually break.

“That’s what this is about? Eddie-” you try to gather your thoughts, one of your hands moving to stroke his hair. “Baby,” you sigh, lowering yourself onto him, resting your forehead against his. You feel a tear trail down your cheek and immediately wipe it away, not wanting him to see it, but he does anyway.

He wipes the other one that follows then pulls you in for a tender kiss, his hands moving up and down your back gently as a way to soothe you. You realize then that you’ve finally found someone who cares about you. That cares enough to try and fuck you the way that you like it.

“You’re so sweet,” you mumble against his lips before pulling away. “But that’s not how I like it.” Now you’re the one to shrink into yourself, feeling all of your feelings towards Billy piling up, eating away at you.

Your stomach twists and before you can stop yourself, you’re off of him, gathering your clothes and getting dressed at record speed, Eddie hurrying to do the same, but he can only be bothered to put on his boxers. He’s so confused and hurt that now he’s the one who’s crying. God, he’s fucked up again.

Eddie’s hot on your heels as you get to the door, snot now running down his nose because of how much he’s crying. Why is everyone always leaving him? He really thought you’d finally be the one to stick, but he guesses he’s wrong. You’re just going to go back to Billy. He knows what he’s doing, after all.

You hurry to your car and slam the door closed, hearing the mixtape he made for you blasting from the speakers. And just when he’s about to close the door, his eyes catch yours and even though he can’t see very well in the dark of the night, he swears that he can see you crying too.

He slams the door to his trailer shut then hurries to his room, making sure that door is closed as well before he throws himself onto his bed, throwing the covers over himself as he cries himself to sleep. He’s so hurt that that’s all he knows what to do when he feels pain. His dad always told him that crying was for pussies and now that he wasn’t around, he could cry as he damn well pleased.

So he stays like that for the rest of the night until he falls asleep, the events of the night replaying over and over as he tries to figure out what he had done wrong. He had done too much, that was for sure. He was just trying to do what he thought you liked and that caused you to leave. He had fucked up and fucked up bad. He knew that much. He was definitely going to remember his first time but not for the reasons he was hoping. He supposed that he really was just Eddie “the freak” Munson and that was something that would never change.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson hurt/comfort #virgin!eddie munson

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wheneverfeasible · 3 months ago

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Bullshit (part 3/3)

Third and final part of my angsty Steddie “Bullshit” story where Steve changes himself to try to keep Eddie’s love. I swear the happy ending is finally here everyone! Please put the pitchforks and torches away!

I hope it lives up to expectations and thank you everyone for showing such a keen interest in my story. This final part is LONG and dialogue heavy but hey, at least you finally get the fluff.

Part 1 || Part 2

It had been two weeks.

Which, sure, wasn’t the longest they’d gone without seeing each other before due to their lives being hectic, but it had been the longest they’d gone without even so much as a quick goodnight phone call since they finally got together. Steve’s hand had hovered over the phone every night, wanting to call Eddie and apologize and promise to do better, but he was too much of a coward.

Because, you see, as long as they weren’t talking, Steve could still pretend that they were together. He knew though that the moment his resolve crumbled and he called Eddie, or Eddie finally had enough and called him, that it would be over. Eddie would officially break up with him and this time Steve didn’t know how he was going to pick up the pieces.

He loved too much, too quickly, too earnestly. But it was never enough. It was always just bullshit and he didn’t know how to stop it from being bullshit. The first time he hadn’t taken Nancy’s own needs into account, had been too caught up in his own trauma to realize that she needed more than just to pretend that nothing had happened and move on from what couldn’t be changed.

Neither had been in the wrong, of course, both dealing with trauma and guilt in their own way, but in the end they had simply been too incompatible. He hadn’t been what she needed and she hadn’t been what he needed. They couldn’t change that, not even back when that spark between them still burned in an ember. But who they were simply couldn’t change to be what the other needed, or deserved.

So then he tried to change, for Eddie. Once Eddie and he got together, it was obvious they were too different. Their friends had commented on it enough, and then when Steve changed to be worthy of Eddie, they commented on that too. But Steve was fine with changing. He loved Eddie enough to become what would make Eddie happy. He’d do anything to make Eddie happy.

Except he failed. He failed and now he had gone two weeks without speaking to his boyfriend who probably hated him now.

Their friends wouldn’t tell him anything either, not that he really wanted them to know of his failure. Only Robin knew because she had been the first person he had called when Eddie had ran away from him when it became obvious Steve wasn’t good enough.

Robin, who had threatened to make Eddie’s balls into earrings, had muttered about how she’d always known he was trouble, but Steve also remembered how happy Robin had been when she discovered she wasn’t alone. She and Eddie had gotten on like a house on fire, bickering like they’d been siblings all along, and it had been so nice to have both his soulmates so close to him and each other.

He couldn’t let Robin hate Eddie because of Steve’s own failings. So he talked to her, told her it was fine, told her not to hate Eddie just because Steve couldn’t be what he wanted, though that only seemed to make Robin worse.

Until a few days ago.

She had suddenly returned with a smile on her face, and though she seemed impatient at times, she had at least stopped threatening bodily harm towards Eddie. She stopped bringing Eddie up entirely, actually, though she looked like she wanted to say something more than once.

Normally, Steve would have pried it out of her. It would have been easy too. A flash of wide eyes, downturned lips, tilted head, a soft whine to her name, and she’d be spilling state secrets to him…though he already knew all the state secrets that she knew. But she couldn’t hide from her soulmate. Ever since that first bathroom confessional, they were never very good at keeping secrets from each other.

Steve was too tired for that now. He just wanted Eddie. But Eddie didn’t want him.

Because he was bullshit.

Steve was curled on his couch, Dio blasting from the music system, the fancy new CD player rotating the shiny disc over and over again on repeat. Eddie had said he preferred vinyls, so Steve tried to only listen to vinyls when he was around, but Steve enjoyed the way he could set the new CD technology on repeat without having to get up. It let him wallow for longer.

Robin had been by earlier, though she seemed jumpier than normal, constantly looking at her watch. She’d finally jumped out of Steve’s bed they were lounging in and said she had to go about an hour ago, stuttering excuses and refusing to meet his eyes.

He wondered if Robin was beginning to realize he was bullshit too.

He couldn’t blame her. They didn’t really have much in common either. It was only trauma bonding that tied them together, or at least that’s what she had called it a few nights after everything to do with Starcourt, when she’d biked all the way to Loch Nora and pounded on the door until a bewildered Steve had answered.

She’d thrown her arms around Steve then, and he’d realized she’d been crying, and she kept whispering over and over “you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe” as though she needed to reassure herself. Steve had at first thought she was talking about herself, but then he realized she was talking about him.

That particular realization had been electrifying. No one had ever really checked up on him before. But apparently Robin had been unable to sleep, plagued by nightmares of what the Russians had done to Steve, plagued by the what-if’s of Steve not making it out of the underground bunker. It was the first night they slept in the same bed together, but it wasn’t the last.

She’d told him that they were trauma bonded, them and the rest of the group, that no matter how different they were, they would always have each other’s back. That was also the first night she’d called him her soulmate though, making certain he knew she meant it Platonic with a capital ‘P’ and nothing else. Steve realized that it didn’t make it any less important.

But maybe that had been a lie too.

Maybe Robin was beginning to realize that they were too different. That Steve would never be good enough for anyone. Not good enough for his family, not good enough for Dustin, not good enough for Nancy, not good enough for Eddie, and not good enough for Robin. Always wanting, always worthless. Always bullshit.

It was during this spiral that a very polite, though loud, knocking came from the front door. He supposed they had to be loud to be heard over the sounds of Dio, which he had cranked up to try to drown out the thoughts in his head.

Steve rubbed at his eyes, which felt crusty from dried tears, sitting up from where he had collapsed after showing Robin out the door. He’d think that it was Robin returning for something she forgot, a regular occurrence, but she rarely knocked anymore. She typically just let herself in with the spare key he’d given her. He’d given one to Eddie too.

Pushing thoughts of his maybe-still-his-boyfriend away as he hit pause on the music, Steve shuffled towards the front door. He gave a brief tug of his Iron Maiden shirt, which was actually one of Eddie’s, to attempt to make his rumpled appearance look a little more presentable, and then he was swinging the door open to reveal…

Eddie???

Except…it wasn’t an Eddie he recognized. No, this Eddie was wearing an orchid pink polo and light khakis, and…were those Oxford shoes he was wearing?? With a matching belt??? His hair was smoothed fully back and clasped into a professional looking bun and not a single ring adorned his fingers, made obvious by the way Eddie held up a bouquet of roses. Even the ever present pick necklace from absent from Eddie’s neck.

Steve gaped.

“Hello, Steve,” Eddie said, even his voice seemed softer, less wild, and his smile was the sort Steve had seen his father’s business associates give to each other when a good deal had gone through. Happy, pleased, but restrained. Nothing like the manic grins he was used to from Eddie.

“E-Eddie?” he croaked out, absolutely in disbelief. Behind Eddie, Steve could see a station wagon parked where Eddie’s van should be. “What’s going on?”

Eddie held the flowers out towards Steve, who automatically took them. He couldn’t help but give a bemused smile even as he brought them up to smell. Eddie took a deep breath, indicating the foyer with a small motion of his hand.

“Sorry, but may we talk inside?”

This strangely polite version of Eddie was making Steve feel weirdly uncomfortable, so used to the exuberance that normally surrounded the other man. He took a step back, however, because it was Eddie. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest at seeing Eddie again, even if he looked different.

Steve closed the door behind Eddie after the other man stepped forward, though not before wiping his shoes off on the doormat, which Steve could not recall Eddie ever doing before. He felt like he had somehow fallen into an alternate dimension, and not of the Upside Down variety. Maybe that would have been better; he knew how to handle that kind.

“Um…let me put these in water?” Steve said, though it sounded more like a question, at a loss for what was happening right now.

“Of course, sweetheart. Do you mind if I put on the game?”

Sweetheart.

Steve felt a hopeful flutter in his chest and gut at the use of an endearment. Sure, Eddie was no stranger to using such terms in retaliation to bullies or anyone else he disliked, but that was not the tone Eddie used just now. No, he used the tone he always used with Steve, making Steve hopeful towards the idea that he hadn’t actually ruined everything yet.

He was so caught up with that fact that it took him a moment to process the second part of what Eddie said. “Uh…yeah, sure?” he answered with a question again, brows furrowing, as he wondered if he had somehow forgotten that he was supposed to host Eddie’s campaign night that night.

He hurried quickly to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in, suddenly worried about how his home looked. He hadn’t been expecting to host Dungeons and Dragons, didn’t have the snacking station set up or anything. Did he have enough beverages? Who all was coming tonight? He felt his hosting anxiety start climbing at these questions, as well as the worry that this was a test.

If he failed tonight, would Eddie finally be done with him?

Steve was just settling the vase full of roses on the counter when he heard…was that…?

“Oh come on, Coach! Take him out!” Eddie’s voice filtered through to him as Steve slowly made his way towards the living room. “That asshole is making Gochnaur look like a capable shortstop!”

Was Eddie…watching baseball?

Did Eddie know about John Gochnaur?

What was happening right now?

Steve stood in the doorway leading into the living room, watching with a completely gobsmacked expression as, yes, Eddie was currently watching baseball and giving correct commentary. Steve hadn’t even known Eddie knew what a shortstop did.

Eddie glanced over at Steve and his annoyed expression smoothed into one of happiness. He pat the couch next to him invitingly and Steve could do nothing but walk forward and take his place at Eddie’s side. His furrowed brows shot up into his hairline when Eddie pulled him closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he started rattling off statistics of the players on screen like he did monsters during his DnD campaigns as he indicated the probability of home runs and errors.

“What the hell is going on right now?” he mumbled mostly to himself. This was…this was weird. He wasn’t sure he liked this. No, he knew he didn’t like this. Whatever this was, it felt wrong. He turned his head to frown at Eddie who still looked caught up in the game. In sports.

“Eddie, what…” Steve shook his head slightly, wetting his lips. “Why are you watching baseball? Why are you wearing those clothes? You just left the other days and now you look like a completely different person. What is going on?”

Eddie glanced over at Steve, his own brows high into his bangs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Steve. I’m wearing perfectly normal clothing. And sure, it’s only baseball, but it’s not like it’s basketball season yet.”

Eddie paused then, his expression settling into a neutral look for only a moment before slowly morphing to one of pained regret. He sight and hung his head for a moment before grabbing the remote and muting the screen. He then released Steve just enough to turn slightly on the couch to better face him.

“I’m sorry for leaving though, baby. There’s no excuse for just running out on you like that. I didn’t want to hurt you, I just…I had a lot on my mind and I needed to figure some things out. But don’t worry, Stevie. I have it all figured out now and now I can be an even better boyfriend to you,” he finished with a wide grin that looked nothing like his typical crazed charming smile. It looked more like the grins he used to make before he felt comfortable around Steve and the others.

Charming, yes, but not right. Not Eddie.

But Eddie was leaning forwards, brushing one of the limp pieces of his hair that he hadn’t even bothered to style these past two weeks—hell, had barely had the energy to even wash—back behind his ear. He then pressed forward to lightly kiss the tip of Steve’s nose with a smile, and Steve could only smile back. Eddie was here, with him, and that was all that mattered.

Except…

Except.

Eddie’s pink polo was still in his line of vision. It was Eddie, but it wasn’t Eddie at the same time. He looked nothing like the metalhead he loved. Not that there was anything wrong with what he wore now, of course, and honestly seeing Eddie in a polo was kind of hot, but…it wasn’t him.

Steve pulled back, his smile turning back into a small frown. His eyes tracked over Eddie’s outfit. Sure, Eddie looked nice in it, but it was incredibly wrong. The khakis even looked pressed. “But seriously, Eddie, what the hell are you wearing?”

Eddie looked down at his own clothing with a look of not understanding before looking back up at Steve. “I honestly don’t know what you mean. I’m wearing clothing. A shirt and pants I’ve even got underwear on underneath. Though I can wear a lot less of it if you prefer, baby,” he added in that sultry voice that never failed to get Steve going. He’d once accidentally slipped into it while DMing when he narrated a succubus type NPC and Steve had popped a boner right then and there at the table.

And Steve’s dick made a valiant effort to respond now actually, but everything was wrong and Steve didn’t like that. He continued frowning at Eddie.

“Why are you wearing a polo?” he asked more directly, because he knew from experience with Dustin and Robin and even Eddie himself that sometimes you just have to ask directly if you wanted a proper answer. And seriously. A polo?? “Where are your regular clothes. And why are you watching baseball?”

“I like baseball,” Eddie replied easily with a shrug. “It’s not as bad as I thought. I like that the players can have their little music intro. And I wear polos now, they’re surprisingly comfortable.” He gave Steve a gentle smile. “If you don’t want to watch baseball, we can do something else. You wanna put on some music? Have you heard Debbie Gibson’s new song? Truly heartbreaking. I bet it’s on the radio right now.”

Steve just gaped. It was like Eddie was speaking an alien language even though he knew that all that was English and he understood each word separately. All together though, coming from Eddie’s mouth? Yeah, nothing made sense.

“Eddie,” he breathed, slowly reaching out for Eddie’s left hand and feeling another swoop of wrongness at the lack of rings there. “When you said you wanted to put on the game, I thought you meant a campaign. And Debbie Gibson? Babe, you’re in a metal band. Debbie Gibson isn’t cool.”

“Hey! You treat Deb with respect. Girl’s got an excellent voice,” Eddie said with indignation. Steve could only roll his eyes because yeah, he knew that, but Eddie saying something like that? Unreal. It was Eddie’s next words that made him freeze solid, however.

“Besides, I quit the band. Dungeons and Dragons too. Figured I’m too old for that nerd shit. I’m thinking about getting a real job now anyways, so I don’t have time for all that anymore. Actually, do you want to go through the classifieds together with me later? Gareth said he’d try to get me an in with his dad’s company, but it’s better to be prepared.”

Eddie quit the band? Quit Dungeons and Dragons? Was talking about a corporate job? What. The. Fuck.

Steve scrambled up from the couch, his fingers moving up to squeeze the bridge of his nose before both hands settled on his hips as he stared at Eddie in disbelief. “You love Corroded Coffin. And Dungeons and Dragons! Why the hell would you stop doing something you love?”

Something flashed across Eddie’s expression then, something pleased like Steve had said exactly what Eddie had hoped he would, but it was gone the very next instant leaving Eddie simply staring up Steve with wide and imploring eyes.

“But Steve,” he said, and his tone was too earnest that it made Steve pause. “I love you more, and you don’t like those things. So I’ll change, for you.”

The words were like a bucket of ice water thrown back in his face. He couldn’t move, couldn’t react. Couldn’t resist when Eddie reached out and grasped his hand to pull him back to the couch he’d just vacated, pulling him against his side once more.

“You changed for me, so now I’ll change for you,” Eddie said like the solution was obvious. Steve mutely shook his head, but Eddie’s smile was toothy and sharp and so much like the smile he was used to that he couldn’t speak. Which was just as well, since Eddie wasn’t done. “You changed who you were because you loved me so much and didn’t want to lose me. Is it so preposterous to imagine that I love you so much that I’m willing to do the same?”

Yes! Steve wanted to exclaim, wanted to shout and shake Eddie, because of course Eddie didn’t love Steve the same way that Steve loved Eddie; no one ever did.

Well, except maybe Robin. They were Platonic soulmates after all. He knew that he had started doubting her earlier, which made him a little nauseous to do actually, but she had been the only one so far who had never abandoned him. Who seemingly cared for him the same way he cared for her.

But to think he could possibly be blessed with someone who loved him, romantically, that same way? To think that he might be lucky enough to have that sort of fabled love twice? Impossible! Because…because he knew. He knew he wasn’t good enough. He wouldn’t ever be good enough. He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good person. He wasn’t—

“Do you know why I love you, Stevie?” Eddie murmured, cutting off Steve’s thoughts and causing him to stiffen beside him. It wasn’t like he was unused to these declarations; Eddie never really shied away from telling Steve he loved him, though Steve had to fight back the inane temptation to make a bitchy little joke about it like he’d had before, teasingly crediting his ass or how pretty he looked on his knees. Eddie had given them as reasons enough for his love when they’d joked around before, just as Steven had teasingly cited his love as being because of how skilled Eddie’s fingers were, or the talent of his mouth.

He could sense, however, that trying to trivialize the moment would not go well this time. No, Eddie was looking at him earnestly once more, was reaching out again for Steve’s hand to hold and clutch between both of his against his chest. He thankfully did not seem like he was expecting an answer from Steve.

“It’s because you thought about my safety first, back then, at Skull Rock, even after I’d shoved a broken bottle at your neck. Even though we ran in two totally different circles, you immediately put me as a priority. It’s because you didn’t hesitate to jump into the water, not in belittlement of Wheeler and Buckley for being girls, or me for being…well, me…but simply because you were aware of your own qualifications and knew you were best for the job.

“It’s because, at the first real opportunity of being relatively alone with me, you immediately thanked me for coming to help you after you’d been pulled under, like there had been any other option. As if it wasn’t a given that you deserved to be made a priority too.”

Eddie paused then, thickly swallowed as his eyes closed momentarily. “Though you totally saved your own ass there, tearing that bitch apart with your bare hands. You’re a total badass, sweetheart,” he rumbled, the heat of hungry appreciation in his voice. “Wrapped up in soft yellow sweaters and ridiculously styled hair.”

Opening his eyes to look at Steve again, Steve could see some of that (still surprising) hunger lingering. Because yeah, he knew now that Eddie had near creamed his pants when he’d pulled an Ozzy with the demobat, and even though he questioned his boyfriend’s tastes at time, he was also always so gleeful to know that Eddie thought him sexy as hell.

But it was more than just that, and Steve felt his heart hammering away beneath his ribcage as Eddie kept going on, singing his praises as if Steve was truly something to be admired.

“It’s because,” Eddie continued saying, bringing Steve’s hand up to lightly nuzzle against his knuckles, “you always put everyone else first, even if you hide it behind your bitchy little snide words. Because you care about everyone else and would throw yourself directly into the path of danger to protect them. Protect us. And more than that, you take care of everyone around you, whether they show their gratitude or not. Dustin wasn’t wrong when he talked about how great you are.

“It’s because…” Eddie drew in another shuddering breath, his eyes wide and deep with emotion. “It’s because, when you look at me, you see me, not just another trailer trash failure who couldn’t even properly graduate high school. You see someone worth loving.”

“Eddie,” Steve broke in then with a cracked voice, his guilt unable to keep him quiet. “You were right about me, though. I was a douchebag. Even about you I was an asshole until everything went down. I called you a freak, and I didn’t try hard enough to stop Tommy from attacking you or the others, and I only cared about myself back then. I’m not the person you think I am.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said with a shake of his head. “I won’t deny past dickishness, but I’m not so innocent either,” he pointed out. “I held my own prejudices, my own selfishness. I ostracized Lucas for daring to like sports, I nearly abandoned my bandmates the first time I thought I could make it solo, and I continually ran away when things got tough or hard, try as hard as I did to pretend otherwise.”

Eddie released Steve’s hand from one of his own so that he could snake it behind Steve’s neck to pull him in for a gentle kiss. Steve melted into it, terrified Eddie would eventually leave him still, while also taking great comfort in the kiss. It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, that much he was certain.

“You love with your whole heart, Stevie,” Eddie whispered when he finally pulled away. “I will never be able to apologize enough for taking advantage of that, for not realizing what was going on.” He dropped his gaze to the Iron Maiden shirt Steve was wearing, sliding his hand from Steve’s neck to his chest. “The fact that I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough exactly as you are will always haunt me.”

Steve didn’t want Eddie sad. He didn’t want Eddie to blame himself for Steve not being enough. He couldn’t get the words out though, not when Eddie looked so utterly heartbroken.

“I’m so sorry, baby. And I’m so sorry for leaving. I just…I realized what I did to you and I couldn’t…I couldn’t…”

Steve was horrified by the tears that began flooding Eddie’s eyes, causing him to reach out with his own freed hand pull Eddie in by his polo for another kiss. He didn’t understand what was going on, but…but…

Was Eddie truly not upset with him?

“Christ, baby,” Eddie murmured against his lips. “I love you in your polos. I love you listening to your own music in the car, the way your hair flops about as you jam out to Queen and Wham! and even Cydni fucking Lauper. I love how passionate you get about sports, the way you fuss over Henderson and the others, the way you call out other people’s shit. I love all of you, not in spite of you.”

Eddie pulled back to look properly at Steve, and this time it was Steve with tears brimming in his eyes. Everything Eddie said was like a revelation because the tone of Eddie’s voice, the look in Eddie’s eyes…he meant them.

“But…we’re so different,” he protested, because how was he supposed to accept that when they were nothing alike? Certainly Eddie had to have some regrets, or wish for some changes.

“Steve,” Eddie said on a near whine. “Of course we’re different. We’re different people.” He shook his head suddenly, taking a deep breath. He then reached out and caught Steve’s chin to force him to look at him, catching his eyes with his own. “Do you love me any less for being different than you?”

“No!” Steve yelled aghast. How could Eddie ever think that?

“Then why do you think I would ever love you less for the same?”

Steve opened his mouth, ready to protest again, except…except he didn’t really have an answer to that. Not beyond the fact that he would always be less than. Less than Eddie, less than the kids, less than everyone else he ever cared about.

Except…

Except.

The way Eddie was staring at him now, the way Eddie’s own pain reflected in his dark brown eyes, didn’t make Steve feel like he was lesser. Eddie had never made him feel lesser, actually. Eddie had instead made him feel like…like he mattered. Like he was something worth cherishing. Like…like he was loved.

“I…I don’t know,” Steve admitted, voice cracking, and the tears he’d been keeping at bay slowly spilled over and slid down his cheeks.

Eddie cupped his jaw with both hands then, and though his tears didn’t fall, he sniffled in a way that revealed that it was a very near thing. “I love you so much, baby. I was so ecstatic that you loved me too, that you seemed to be willing to take interest in the things I loved, that I didn’t realize I never did the same. I thought you were trying to figure out who you were, I never noticed that you stopped being you.

“I don’t want you to be just another metalhead who likes everything I like. I want you to be your own person, to like the things you like even if I don’t like them. I want to meet you in the middle of who we are, not a compromise, but as a sign of our love. I’ll take you to metal concerts and you can take me to sports games, even the ones with laundry baskets,” he gently teased. “Any of them, I don’t care. As long as I’m with you doing things you love, I’ll be happy. Because you make me happy, sweetheart.”

Steve’s eyes darted away, eyes catching on the screen where one of the players just stole a base and made themselves that much closer to winning the game, before looking back at Eddie. He didn’t see anything false in his expression, only genuine, hopeful sincerity. Like he truly meant his words.

“I’m fine doing whatever you want,” he mumbled. “You don’t need to sacrifice anything.”

“Baby,” Eddie implored. “It’s not a sacrifice to be with you. You’re so perfect for me, just like you are. Like you truly are. I fell in love with you not because of what you can give me, but because of who you are. I never thought you were actually trying to change to be who you thought I wanted you to be. Because I just want you, baby. If you still want me.”

“Of course I want you,” Steve murmured immediately, his hands moving to claps at Eddie’s forearms. “I’ll always want you.”

Eddie grinned at him, though it was still emotional. He at least managed to keep his tears at bay, blinking rapidly until there wasn’t fear of them falling anymore. He leaned in then to press a soft kiss to Steve’s forehead, his thumbs lightly stroking over Steve’s cheeks. “And I’ll always want you. Hell, baby, I’d marry you right now if it were legal.”

That got Steve’s attention.

He pulled back again, pulling Eddie’s hands from his face to stare at his boyfriend with wide eyes. Again there was only sincerity in Eddie’s gaze, and patience, as he let Steve process and work through his words. To understand just how much Eddie meant it.

Eddie loved him. He knew this of course, but…hell, they hadn’t been dating all that long, all things considered, and he’d once heard Eddie denounce marriage as just another conformist expectation used to take your individuality away, but here was Eddie saying he would marry him if given the chance. He knew Eddie wouldn’t say something like that unless he truly meant it too. Eddie loved him.

“But…we’re so different, Eddie,” he repeated in barely more than a whisper. “A-and I don’t want you to quit your band or Dungeons and Dragons or anything like that for me. I don’t want you conforming for me.”

Eddie just grinned again, his expression so full of love for Steve that it made Steve almost physically ache. “And I don’t want you changing for me,” he simply said, and…and maybe Steve was starting to get that, but…

“But you were so happy when I started listening to metal, and not all of it is bad,” Steve admitted. “I actually liked some of it. More than I thought I would.”

“I was happy,” Eddie admitted right back, letting out a soft sigh. “I was happy to share something with you, happy to help you develop your interest since I thought it was something you wanted. I didn’t mean to push it on you. I was just…I thought that if we had a shared interest like that, you wouldn’t decide I was too much. When you started dressing like this…”

Eddie moved to lightly tug at the hem of Steve’s shirt. “I had been so terrified that you would realize you could do better than someone like me,” he whispered. “Having you not be put off by the way I dressed, by the music I liked, by anything I liked made me happy because it calmed my fears that I’d scare you off or something, that you’d move on to greener and better pastures.”

And that was just not right. Better than Eddie? Someone like that simply didn’t exist. And all because Eddie liked a certain kind of music, or dressed a certain way? Absolutely not.

“Eddie,” Steve breathed, and this time it was him reaching out to cup Eddie’s cheek to make him look at him properly again. “You’re so amazing, Eddie. How in the world could someone better than you exist? You’re a fucking hero, man. And don’t say you’re not,” he said firmly when Eddie opened his mouth to say just that, like he always did when it got brought up. “You are. You’re brave and selfless and literally out your life in the line to protect others. You’re badass, baby. Just like me,” he grinned in tease.

Eddie softly snorted, placing his hand over Steve’s on his cheek so he could hold it as he turned his head slightly to kiss the palm. “You are a badass,” Eddie agreed. “And you’re sweet too, even though you deny that too. I love you so much, and I should have paid more attention to why you were suddenly into all the same things I was instead of just being happy to share them with you.”

Eddie squeezed Steve’s hand, placing another soft kiss to his palm before trailing his lips into gentle kisses against his fingertips. “And I should have done more to meet you halfway. I should have been doing this from the start,” he admitted, indicating the muted TV. “You were always willing to join my hobbies but I never even offered to join yours. I’m truly very sorry, baby.”

“Please stop apologizing,” Steve complained. “I forgive you, okay? It’s just…you’re…” Steve swallowed, making himself actually stop and consider Eddie’s words, their meaning, their truth. “I’d love you even if you always hated sports,” he said softly, a small light of understanding settling over him. Because if he could love Eddie without needing Eddie to like everything he liked…

“Then can’t I love you even if you hate the things I like?” Eddie murmured, as if finishing his thought for him. “I don’t need you to be a carbon copy of my interests, baby. I love you for you, Steve. I’ve missed your polos and your preppy look,” he grinned. “It’s hot.”

Steve flushed slightly at that, Eddie’s eyes telling him again just how truthful those words were. He hadn’t ever once considered that Eddie actually liked that part of him, not when Eddie always wore dark clothing and looked the way he did. They were so different…

His eyes moved once more over Eddie, taking in that ridiculously pink polo and khaki pants, so unlike the things Eddie would wear but so similar to something Steve would. And…yeah, okay, that was hot, but he didn’t want Eddie to wear it all the time because it just wasn’t him. If Eddie wanted to then of course he’d never say anything about it, but he would miss the way his metalhead usually looked. Like…the way Steve looked now, while Eddie…Eddie looked like how he would have normally dressed.

Because Eddie said he would change for Steve, would give up the things he loved, just to keep Steve happy. But Steve didn’t need that to be happy. He was happy just to have Eddie, exactly the way he was, without Eddie pretending to be something he wasn’t. He didn’t want Eddie to change for him, even though…yeah he would like to be able to share his own interests with Eddie sometimes. And maybe…

Maybe, if Eddie had started dressing like that gradually, started expressing interest in Steve’s hobbies slowly, he wouldn’t notice how much Eddie had been changing to try to fit in with him. Maybe he would have just assumed Eddie was genuinely branching out his own interests because he felt safe enough to do so without being ridiculed, like…like Steve had slowly done.

But Eddie had appeared so drastically changed that Steve couldn’t help but rebel against it, couldn’t help but clock it as wrong, could only see it for what it was:

Bullshit.

Steve grinned suddenly at that revelation. A bright happiness began filling him until he felt like he was full of fizzy soda and Pop Rocks. He realized that it was bullshit, but he wasn’t. What was bullshit wasn’t his love, or his inability to be exactly like Eddie, but the fact that he tried to be someone he wasn’t. Him trying to change who he was was bullshit. Because Eddie?

Eddie loved him anyways. Eddie loved him even if he was an ex-jock prep who cared about his appearance maybe a little too much, who cared about keeping his home and car clean, who listened to popular catchy music on the radio simply because it was fun. Eddie had fallen in love with Steve because of who he was, not who he could change himself into becoming.

Eddie loved him. And love like that could never be bullshit.

When Steve finally looked Eddie in the eyes again, truly looked and saw and heard everything Eddie had been trying to tell him, he felt tears escape down his cheeks again but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Because he got it now. He understood. Eddie hadn’t wanted him to change, he had just been supporting Steve in what he thought Steve wanted.

“I’m such an idiot,” Steve wetly laughed, throwing his arms around Eddie to bury his face in Eddie’s neck.

“Hey now, don’t insult my husband like that,” Eddie admonished, but his words sounded wet too as his own arms moved to wrap around Steve’s back and hold him close.

“We’re not married yet, asshole. You didn’t even ask me,” he pointed out with a giddy roll of his eyes.

“Right, right, silly me,” Eddie said, and Steve could hear the grin in his voice. “Guess I better go buy a ring first. And ask Buckley for her blessing.” Eddie drew in a shaky breath before huffing it out in a laugh. “Maybe she’ll let me keep my balls now.”

Steve pulled back with a confused furrow to his brows. He hadn’t told Eddie that his balls were in any danger.

When Eddie caught his expression, Eddie rolled his eyes next. “After I left, I spent probably a week trying to process everything, trying to figure out where I went wrong and horrified with myself for unknowingly encouraging you into changing for me, going over every little thing I fucked up. Then Buckley showed up and read me the fucking riot act.” He shuddered. “She’s terrifying.”

“I told her not to do that,” Steve frowned, though his lips twitched at his boyfriend’s dramatics. Christ, he loved him so much. And Eddie, somehow, apparently loved him just as much.

“Well I’m glad she did,” Eddie said with a small chuckle and shake of his head. “We came up with all this together,” he added with an indication of his clothing and the TV. “She heard my side of things and realized that if there’s an idiot in our relationship, it’s me. And then we came up with this plan to show you why I’d never want you to be someone you weren’t. Figured if I showed up completely changed too, you’d realize why it wasn’t what I wanted.”

Anxiety hit Steve suddenly and he stared at Eddie with wide eyes. “Wait, you didn’t actually quit the band, did you? Eddie!”

“No, no, not really.” Eddie paused. “Mostly.” He gave a little wincing smile at Steve’s fierce glare. “I told them what I was going to do, as well as saying that I may end up actually quitting if that’s what you needed of me. Because I meant it, Stevie,” he added with his own fierceness. “I love you more than I love being in the band or anything else. You’re it for me, hot stuff.”

“You are an idiot,” Steve groaned, and he didn’t know if he should be upset with Eddie, relieved, or insanely happy. He somehow felt all three at once, giving Eddie’s arm a small slap. “But I am absolutely determined to have a hot and talented famous rockstar boyfriend, Munson, so you better not quit. Or I’m dumping your ass for Jeff,” he said with a wicked little grin.

“Betrayal!” Eddie gasped, his hand moving to clutch at his shirt over his heart, falling back against the couch cushions dramatically.

Steve merely rolled his eyes again, though he couldn’t keep the deliriously happy smile off his face because this was his boyfriend. This dramatic, goofy, absolute loser of a man. He was so fucking lucky.

“And that station wagon out front?” he asked, eyebrow arching.

“Borrowed,” Eddie grinned, propping himself up with an elbow to look at Steve. “Jeff’s mom’s. Really had to make it authentic, ya know?”

“And the baseball knowledge?”

Eddie laughed at that. “Wayne gave me some pointers. I think he was ecstatic to finally be able to talk to me about sports knowing I would listen. He also says we’re all watching the season finale together.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. “It’s called the World Series, asshole.”

“Kind of pretentious to call it that, don’tcha think, seeing as how it’s only America playing?”

Letting out a huff, Steve crawled over Eddie to look down at him, straddling a thigh as both his brows raised high over his forehead. “You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that. But…” Steve’s expression softened into a small, almost shy smile. “Thank you. For loving me.”

Eddie smiled back up at Steve, settling back against the couch cushions and bringing his arms up to lightly hook over his shoulders and crossing them behind Steve’s neck. “Thank you for letting me,” he replied simply. “Now, will you please go back to my preppy sexy boyfriend who listens to ABBA and complains about bad hair days? I miss him dreadfully.”

Steve felt his happiness bubbling up inside him again, grinning down at Eddie before leaning in to take his lips in a giddy kiss. “Maybe you should take your Iron Maiden shirt back then, right now,” he murmured meaningfully against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie grinned beneath him. “Fuck yeah,” he breathed. “And get this pink monstrosity off too.”

Steve pulled back at that, planting his hand flat on Eddie’s chest to stop him from moving to do just that, causing Eddie to still beneath him. Steve slid his gaze over said pink monstrosity, wetting his lips with darkening eyes.

“No,” he murmured, voice roughened as he slid his gaze back up to Eddie’s widening eyes, a soft pink flush entering pale cheeks. “Keep it on.”

And he did.

At least until it was too ruined to be saved. But they could always buy Eddie another polo later.

Steve’s insecurities weren’t magically gone from one conversation, of course, but it proved to be a great start. There were still moments when Steve felt like he wasn’t good enough, but it helped to know that Eddie felt the same way at times too, that they were both so in love and would do anything for the other person.

After that day, the two worked together to find a new middle ground. Steve still supported Corroded Coffin at all their shows, wearing their shirts and other merch frequently, and even kept his studded leather bracelet that matched Eddie’s own. He went back to wearing his polos in his day-to-day life, however, and styling his hair with near ridiculous amounts of hairspray.

They talked about their hobbies, with Eddie making a mix tape of the metal songs that Steve actually ended up liking, and Eddie even found enjoyment in playing the occasional game of ball with Steve and even Lucas and the others sometimes joined in. (Sure, he mostly liked the way Steve looked all sweaty and flushed with exertion, but he had some genuine fun shooting balls into “laundry baskets” all the same too.)

They made compromises in the movies they watched, the foods they ate, and Steve took on a more passive role during DnD nights. His character decided to strike out on his own, in story, though he would occasionally rejoin the adventurers when their paths crossed, allowing Steve to play when he felt in the mood and sit out when he wasn’t. Steve had even cajoled Nancy into rejoining the game with him sometimes, much to the Party’s (especially Dustin’s) delight.

Eddie never really took to polos for regular wear, though he did wear the occasional Henley and Steve had convinced Eddie to take better care of his hair, helping his boyfriend set up a couple different routines based on the time frame he had to work with before events or daily life, earning numerous compliments on the healthy curls he now regularly sported. Steve loved the mornings where they got to primp together, and even Eddie flushed with happiness when they caught each other’s eyes in the mirror or helped each other fluff their hair.

Eddie also summoned the Party and acted like a drill sergeant as he commanded each of them to give Steve’s car a deep cleaning and detailing, shampooing and vacuuming and waxing the inside and outside until the BMW gleamed like practically new. He also helped enforce the rules about leaving no mess behind, either by forbidding open food containers or by picking up after themselves. Steve was so impressed by it that he couldn’t help dirtying the car a little again by taking Eddie into the backseat after everything.

They took down the posters and flyers and random crap that covered Steve’s walls, though Steve kept up the Black Sabbath and Dio posters, even if he made Eddie straighten them up. He also kept up the Corroded Coffin flag Eddie had made him, though he began adding his own decorations as well through encouragement from Eddie. Eddie even got him a banner for his favorite sports team, hanging it up right next to the Corroded Coffin flag. (Later, when Steve eventually moved out of his parents’ abandoned house, Eddie would cut a swatch of the wallpaper from the wall, framing the bit of plaid for Steve to carrying with them to their eventual shared home.)

Robin was a menace, of course, and continually made passing comments about needing earrings. The threat was not lost on Eddie and he always made certain he showered Steve in praise and confirmed his love for him whenever Robin gave him the stink eye. Steve may or may not sometimes signal when he wanted the threat made, especially around important dates like holidays and anniversaries.

And Eddie did make good on his comment about asking Robin’s permission for a certain question, though in his nervousness and excitement he fumbled actually asking Steve for forever and instead accidentally threw the ring at Steve one night after a dinner he’d tried to make but inevitably burned. They ordered take out and laughed about it, then Steve made certain Eddie never had to doubt his ‘yes’ right there in the kitchen. And living room. And bedroom. And then for good measure in the shower.

Steve always remained a prep, and Eddie always remained a metalhead, but over the years they slowly adopted and adapted bits and pieces of each other’s style, though Eddie couldn’t ever wear a polo to tease Steve without Steve immediately dragging him into bed. Or to the nearest flat surface.

There were days that the insecurities would crop up still, of course, for both of them. These days grew less over the years, the commitment Steve and Eddie felt for each other reflected in the matching rings they wore, exchanged during a small ceremony that, though not legal in the eyes of the law, was no less absolute in their hearts.

Because Steve knew now what those insecurities were, what the voice was that whispered that he would never be good enough for anyone, and he knew what to say when they tried to tear him down. And he would smile when he said it, safe, content, and secure in his and Eddie’s love.

“Bullshit.”

As I said before, I am tagging everyone who asked to be tagged, so if I’ve accidentally missed you or tagged the wrong person, I apologize. It’s a lot of people. Heh.

Tagged: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @petalsandpixels @coolgirldad @xxbottlecapx @yesdangerpls @lawrencebshoggoth @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @miss-wright

@brainsteddielyrotted @nerdyglassescheeseychick @ohimamarigold @sofadofax @moss-g0blin @secretly-kait @blossomingblueberries @my-love-of-books @blounette @p0lybl4nkk

@sapphicsforsteve @wearespacedust @mae-liz @stripey82 @tinyplanet95 @0mochiia0 @sunnycycle @jaytriesstrangerthings @hotluncheddie @dragonmama76

@stevieschrodinger @townseleven @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @novacorpsrecruit @mugloversonly @imaginary-maggie-waggie @pointlessmosswitch @fatiguedclown @prazinos

@thedragonsaunt @bookworm0690 @brazenliar @samsoble @wrenisflying @queenie-ofthe-void @breealtair @highqueenhalalie @steddieassheg0es @theintrovertedintrovert

(rest of tags will be in a reblog, did not realize how many I had agreed to lol my bad)

#fic: bullshit #fix it #angst with a happy ending #steddie angst #steddie h/c #steddie fluff #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #stranger things #plot thots

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scarlet-bitch · 3 months ago

Text

You'd Have to Stop the World...

11.5k words, FWB Eddie X afab!reader, 18+ Explicit Content - MDNI, use of "baby" as a nickname, no use of y/n, little to no description of reader, set in Hawkins 1990 so everyone's aged up accordingly, no mention of upside down - could sorta be canon if you pretend vecna was defeated and eddie never got attacked by the bats but reader wouldn't know it ever existed. * fair amount of smut in this especially the beginning - it's a fwb plot so... but yes, there is plot. lots of angst and some fluff*

a/n: most of my ideas are usually inspired by a song - the concept for this came entirely through a playlist I made, so l added the track list! Feedback is greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading and as always, I hope you enjoy! xo, scarlet 💋

Struggling through a dry spell, an ideas comes to you when your attractive friend Eddie vents about his recent disappointing hookups. What starts as casual fun gradually complicates as physical and emotional boundaries begin to blur.

“I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin / How can I be guilty as sin?”

A few years ago, you met Eddie Munson, thanks to an introduction from your then coworkers, Robin and Steve. What began as a casual acquaintance in a larger group quickly evolved into a genuine friendship.

But as with many great friendships, a new romance - this time with Matt - changed the dynamics. As your relationship with Matt grew, so did the distance between you and Eddie. Matt didn’t like him, his dislike fueled by a few key grievances: he accused Eddie of overcharging for weed, could barely tolerate Eddie’s metal music - and was visibly irritated by the number of times you dragged him to Eddie’s shows. Yet, beneath it all, Matt’s discomfort had a more personal edge. He was convinced there was something more to your friendship, despite your insistence on its platonic nature.

“Okay, sure, whatever you say,” Matt insisted, his tone dripping with frustration. “But I’m telling you, he definitely wants to fuck you.”

Matt’s reasoning included:

• “He never makes you pay for weed.”

⁃ Ah, the classic move of the charming drug dealer - Robin and Steve are also lucky recipients of Eddie's personal stash. Generosity? Sure. A sign of deeper feelings? Unlikely.

• “He flirts with you.”

⁃ Eddie flirts with everyone. This isn’t a private act of seduction - it’s his default setting. And sure, before you dated Matt maybe you’d indulge in Eddie’s flirty nature but it was just all in good fun.

• "He call's you - Baby."

⁃ The nickname was not some romantic gesture, Eddie's just a menace. It all started after a shift at Family Video, you and Robin went back to Steve's house. Eddie made an entrance, a blunt was passed, and you started rambling about the ridiculousness of the name "Baby" in Dirty Dancing. "You know, it's funny you hate it because 'Baby' suits you perfectly," Eddie quipped. You shot him a look of annoyance, but Eddie, with that trademark grin, decided it was a keeper and has called you it ever since.

• “The way he fucking looks at you.”

⁃ This is where the plot thickens. While the other signs are easily explained, you didn't quite see what Matt was ever referring to.

Yet, every time Matt voiced his theories, your mind couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of Eddie in bed. He had quite the reputation as a good fuck and it was undeniable that he was incredibly attractive. But the guilt of entertaining these thoughts, especially while with Matt, was crushing. So, you shoved them aside.

In December of '89, Matt accepted a job that meant relocating out of state. By then, your relationship had lost its spark, of course, except for the one area where it still managed to flicker - the bedroom. You both knew it was time to let go, the idea of a long distance romance wasn't practical when the only thing holding you together required physical proximity you would no longer share.

Despite it being the obvious choice - the end of nearly two years together was tough, but as the saying goes, when one door closes, another opens. With Matt no longer in the picture, your calendar quickly filled with late nights and laughter, surrounded by Robin, Steve, Eddie, and your ever expanding social circle. It was the start of a new era, as you entered the new decade.

"These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?"

Four months into being single, and the dry spell was becoming a cruel joke. Every date you'd been on had left much to be desired, as none of them ever ended with you on your back. Ultimately a waste of your time.

It was an added frustration to be out with Eddie and watch him glide from one partner to the next with such ease. You even found yourself feeling a bit envious of his conquests, because the more time you began spending with him, the more you understood why Matt had his suspicions.

On quite a few occasions, you caught Eddie's gaze lingering on you. The stolen glances and charged looks sent your heart racing. Gone were the days of pushing these thoughts away. Now, you found yourself indulging in them, late at night, hand between your thighs, wondering if the fantasies might ever become reality.

“Don’t play dumb, I know you fantasize. You could have me on my back every night.”

One night, after having your friends over for dinner, Eddie decided to stay and chill after Robin and Steve had left. He sprawled on your couch, legs draped over the coffee table, grumbling about the monotony of his recent casual encounters and the lack of sexual chemistry he'd been experiencing.

Eddie looked at you, cutting himself off mid rant, his fingers deftly rolling a blunt. "It's cool if I smoke in here, right? Or d'ya want me to go on the balcony?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I don't usually love it, but why not for tonight?"

With a grin, Eddie continued on his ranting as he finished rolling. Lighting the blunt and taking a long drag when he finished his complaint.

"Okay, but bad sex is more often than not, still enjoyable," you said, in response to his last comment.

Eddie held out the blunt offering you to take a hit and while normally you’re pretty weary to cross fade, you were feeling adventurous as you grabbed it from his fingers taking a hit.

"I get what you're saying, but nothing's been like, mind-blowing. I was getting head the other day, and I was literally counting the minutes until it was over. I think it would've been more enjoyable if I'd just taken care of myself."

You let out a laugh, the smoke escaping in a light cloud. "You think counting maybe prolonged the experience a bit, bud?" Passing the blunt back to Eddie.

"No, baby, the counting's what got me there." He smirked before taking another hit.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but his words sparked thoughts of your own dissatisfaction.

The two of you sat there listening to the soft sounds of The Cure album you had on, as you took turns with the blunt. Eddie's gaze didn't leave you, his eyes focused on your lips - the movements of your mouth. The subtle way your lips parted and closed around the blunt had him entranced.

You were too lost in your own thoughts to notice his staring. "I think this is one of those grass is greener situations. l'd take the bad sex. There's only so much I can satisfy myself, and sometimes I- well, I just want to get railed." The words slipped out before you could fully think them through but as soon as they did, you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

Eddie's eyes widened slightly, a blush of his own creeping onto his face as he exhaled smoke. "Oh sure." You'd always been open about discussing sex, but this was a new level of candor for you and it caught him by surprise. It also made his cock twitch.

You weren't sure what it was - the alcohol, the pot, the adrenaline from your embarrassment, - but Eddie's complaints mixed with your own dissatisfaction sparked an idea. You set your wine glass down, turned to face him, and criss-crossed your legs on the couch.

Passing what was left of the blunt back, you asked the question that's been on your mind for weeks.

”Eddie… are you attracted to me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

"What?" He asked as he put the blunt out.

"Eddie," you pressed.

He chuckled, the sound a bit shaky. "Everyone thinks you're pretty, you know that."

"That's not what I asked," you countered. "I'm asking if you think I'm like, hot - not just pretty."

A smirk played on Eddie's lips as his eyes scanned over your figure, nodding. “Yeah, you’re hot,” he said, taking a sip of his beer and letting his eyes linger on how the soft fabric of your clothes hugged your chest. Truth be told, he thought you were fucking heaven sent.

"So why haven't you made a move? I've been single for months."

"You know me, baby. No attachments. Couldn't have you falling in love with me."

You scoffed. "Really, that's your excuse?"

His gaze met yours, a touch of defensiveness in his eyes. "It's not an excuse. It's just how I am. I don't hook up with friends, it can get messy."

"Got it," you replied, considering letting it go, but curiosity had taken hold. "Do you ever fantasize about them, though?”

A wry smile appeared on his lips. "Depends on the friend, I guess.”

"Cut the shit, Munson.”

His smile grew. "Alright, yeah. A lot more than I probably should have.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to an intimate whisper. "If it's any consolation, I've fantasized about you a fair bit too.”

"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his voice huskier than before.

"Mmm-hmm." You shook your head slowly, maintaining eye contact. You noticed the way Eddie's eyes darted down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

"What about?" he asked.

"I could tell you," you whispered, "or I could show you.”

Eddie's laughter was shaky as he looked away, running his hand through his hair. "Tempting," he whispered, leaning back and trying to create some distance. His arousal, however, was unmistakable.

The room fell silent. You could see the inner conflict in his eyes: the struggle between desire and his self imposed boundaries. The sight of Eddie's hard cock straining against his jeans had your pulse quickening more than the conversation had. You felt yourself growing wet, the heat between your thighs demanding attention.

"So even though it's clear we both want this, you're willing to just let it go because of some vague principle?" you asked, frustration tinging your voice.

Eddie's expression grew serious. "I wouldn't want to complicate our friendship just to get off.”

"And if I promised you it wouldn't complicate anything, that nothing would have to change - it would just be a good time?”

His breath hitched at your words, his eyes soaking in your presence. "Then... maybe I’d rethink some things."

You sighed, acknowledging his hesitation but also feeling the urgency of your own desire whether Eddie joined you or not.

“Well, you think about that,” you said, standing up and heading toward your bedroom. “You’re welcome to join me if you decide you’re in. If you decide to leave, the spare key is by the door. Just lock up and I’ll get it next time.” You closed the door behind you

Eddie sat on the couch contemplating for all of 5 minutes before his decision was made. Of course he wasn't going to let this moment pass him by. He stood up, his mind racing as he walked toward your room.

When Eddie opened the door, he found you lying in bed, bathed in the amber glow of your lamp, only in your panties. You were lost in your own pleasure, hand moving beneath the fabric, eyes closed tight as breathy moans escaped your lips.

"Fuck," Eddie muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the scene before him. He froze, taking in every detail. The gentle, desperate movements of your fingers, the soft sway of your breasts, and the way your lips formed an O with every soft whimper. He was mesmerized.

He moved closer, cautious not to disrupt the moment. You whispered his name, soft and needy. "Eddie..."

The sound of your voice, so vulnerable and inviting, was nearly enough to push him over the edge. He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that came from the very core of his being. As he stood at the end of the bed, your eyes fluttered open, taking in his presence.

You kept your eyes locked on him, focusing on his face, the way his gaze was fixed on you.

Looking at you like this, made him feel as if he was witnessing the eighth wonder of the world. "What are you thinking of?" Eddie asked, needing to understand what was driving you.

"That this is your hand instead of mine, just like l've been imagining for weeks," you admitted, voice trembling slightly.

Eddie's breath hitched. "Can I see all of you?" he asked, desperation lacing his voice as he sat on the edge of the bed.

You nodded, slowly sliding your panties down your legs and tossing them aside, revealing your glistening cunt. You returned your hand, teasing yourself gently. Eddie's eyes were fixed on you, the sight almost too much for him to bear, a low whimper escaping his lips.

"How would you touch me, if it were your fingers?" you asked, voice a seductive whisper.

Eddie slid up from his spot on the edge of the bed, closer to your side, as he began directing you on how he would pleasure you, eyes glued to your movements. "I'd start by gently tracing my fingers, just like you are now."

You whimpered as he continued his instructions, caught between the fantasy he was describing and the reality of your own touch. His guidance was driving you wild, but the need for his direct touch was growing unbearable. Breathlessly, you said, "Eddie, please."

“Tell me what you need,” he rasped, his eyes locked on yours.

“Touch me,” you pleaded.

Eddie knew what you meant; you wanted him to replace your fingers - but he needed to kiss you and at the vague request for his touch he couldn't help but use that as his cue. He leaned in, his body hovering over yours, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was rough, and raw as if years of restrained longing were unleashed in that heated moment. His lips were demanding, his tongue wrestled with yours, the taste of beer mixing with moscato. You bit his lip and Eddie’s groan was deep.

His free hand found its way to your thigh, gripping it tightly, driving you further into your own touch. The intensity of his actions only heightened your pleasure. You gasped into his mouth as your climax hit. Eddie’s grip on your thigh never letting up as you clung to him, struggling to steady yourself through your orgasm.

As the waves began to subside, you whispered raggedly, “I need you.”

Eddie trailed his hand from your thigh to your cunt, only for you to stop his hand. “No. I need more, I need you inside of me. Now.”

Eddie groaned at your desperate plea for him to fill you. Without a word, he began undressing. His breathing was labored as he quickly removed his shirt, tossing it aside. He fumbled with his jeans, eager and clumsy in his haste to free his hard cock. When he finally did, you let out an audible gasp, taking in the sight of him. He was so fucking perfect.

“How do you want it, baby?” He asked, eager to give you anything you’d ask for.

“What have you fantasized about?”

Eddie hesitated, “We don’t have to -”

“Tell me,” you demanded.

“You, um, you’ve got great tits,” he all about moaned. “I think about you riding me a lot.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before you pushed him back to lean against the pillows, a sly smile on your lips. You reached for a condom from the nightstand, tearing open the wrapper with a quick, practiced motion, and rolled it over his throbbing cock. Eddie’s eyes followed your every move, sighing at your touch.

With a deep, steadying breath, you positioned yourself above him. Your hands rested on the headboard while his hands gripped your thighs, his fingers digging in as he watched you. Slowly, you began to lower yourself, the initial contact making both of you gasp. The incredible stretch of his cock stung as you lowered yourself down inch by inch. It was almost overwhelming, but so perfectly pleasurable. Eddie’s eyes widened, his breath coming in quick, ragged bursts.

“Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. His hands tightened on your thighs, reminding you just how much he wants this.

You continued to sink down, savoring the sensation of being filled. Once fully seated, you paused to adjust, getting accustomed to his size. Eddie wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but by no means was he small. Close to 7 inches if you had to guess. He was however, the thickest not by an absurd amount but enough to notice the difference. He felt phenomenal.

You began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down. The room began filling with the sound of your mingled moans. As you established a steady rhythm, Eddie’s moans grew more frequent, his grip sure to leave bruises. “Fuuuuuck,” he repeated, his voice rough with pleasure.

You shifted from leaning forward to putting your full weight on him, arching your back slightly as you moved your hands from the headboard to behind you, resting them on his thighs. In this position, you had better control and began to increase your pace.

“Aghh - just like that,” Eddie groaned. “Show me how much you want it." Eddie’s eyes were locked on you, taking in every detail - the bounce of your breasts, the flush on your cheeks, the intense pleasure on your face. You looked stunning.

He moved his hands to your breasts, groaning as he squeezed them gently. He adjusted himself so he was sitting up, his hands moving to roam over the rest of your body as he began kissing your skin. He started at your collarbone and moved along your chest until he reached your left breast. Kissing and nipping at the soft skin before enveloping your nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. You shuddered at the added stimulation, moving to rest your hands on his shoulder for better stability as he moved his mouth to your right nipple.

You were finding it hard to keep quiet, biting your lip to stifle your moans as the combination of his mouth and the fullness of his cock drove you closer to ecstasy.

Eddie, however, was having none of that. Removing his mouth from you chest, “Don’t hold back," he rasped. "Let the whole fucking building know how good it feels to have my cock inside you.”

You let yourself moan freely, the sounds echoing in the room as you quickened your pace.

"Ooooohhh god,” you cried out as your orgasm began to build.

You swirled your hips, adding a tantalizing motion that made Eddie mumble curses of pleasure. His hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he reclined against the pillows. You leaned forward with him, placing your arms on his chest for support as you rode him with increased intensity.

“Such a good girl,” Eddie said in awe, his eyes locked on you as you chased your orgasm. The praise spurred you on, and you let out a loud cry. Eddie’s lips curled into a wry smile as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on you.

“You like that, huh?” he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

You whimpered a feeble “yes,” your voice barely audible as you tried to keep up with the intense pleasure.

“Thought you might,” he chuckled. “Be the good girl that you are and cum for me,” Eddie instructed.

That was all it took. Your hips began to falter as your orgasm ripped through you, sending your body into a shuddering climax. Eddie’s groans of satisfaction grew louder as he watched you come undone on top of him. He gripped your hips tightly, taking over control and thrusting into you with a fierce rhythm, pushing you seamlessly into another orgasm.

As you came down, your body collapsed against Eddie's, still trembling from the aftermath of your third orgasm. Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, the intensity of the pleasure overwhelming you. Eddie, sensing your exhaustion, slowed his thrusts, his hands gently tangling in your hair as he lifted your face to look at him.

“Shit Eds” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I can come again.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a mischievous smile, his eyes gleaming with determination. “Sure you can, baby. You haven’t even gotten what you wanted yet,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before repositioning you both.

The sudden loss of him inside you made you whimper, the emptiness leaving you desperate to be filled again. Eddie lifted you, placing you on your knees, and then knelt behind you. His hands took hold of your hips, and he lined himself up with your entrance before thrusting into you with a forceful, deep motion. The immediate fullness made you moan, the new position allowing him to penetrate you more deeply and hit your g-spot perfectly with every thrust.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” you cried out, your voice raw with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless rhythm.

“This is what you wanted, right baby? To get railed?” Eddie asked, his voice a deep, gravelly whisper. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass as he drove into you.

“Yes!” you cried out. “Please Eddie, harder,” tears streaming down your face. He responded by pounding into you just as you asked.

Leaning forward, Eddie kissed the skin along your back, his teeth grazing your flesh with gentle bites, adding another layer of sensation. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, knuckles white from the strain, as desperate cries of pleasure fell from your lips. His left hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it frantically.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop,” you moaned, your voice trembling with need. Eddie’s fingers worked your clit with determined precision, the added stimulation making it clear you were about to lose it.

As the pleasure built to its peak, you screamed his name, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came. Eddie’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts never faltering as he felt you clenching around him.

“There it is,” he moaned, his voice filled with satisfaction as he felt you coming undone. Your mascara ran down your cheeks in streaks, merging with your tears as you reached the height of your pleasure. Eddie continued to pound into you as your orgasm subsided, savoring the way you responded to him.

He was relentless, driven by his own need to reach his climax. He removed his hand from your clit, gripping your hips firmly as he thrusted into you with increased force. “I want you to cum with me,” he growled.

You cried out, your voice filled with desperation. "I-I ahhh..." Your words were swallowed by your moans as Eddie kept thrusting.

"You can do it," he encouraged, his voice low and steady. "I know you can."

Eddie's thrusts grew more intense, his rhythm never faltering as he drove you toward another climax. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his own breath coming in ragged bursts as he neared his release.

"Atta girl," Eddie growled. His thrusts grew sloppy, driven by the raw intensity of the moment. You clenched around him, surrendering to the pleasure as euphoria washed over you. The sensation was all consuming, a final, powerful climax that left you gasping.

Eddie's own climax hit hard. He let out a string of moans, his body shuddering as it hit. His thrusts became erratic, his grip on your ass tightening as he rode out his release.

Eddie collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, basking in the afterglow. The intensity of the night had left you feeling dizzy and euphoric, your body still tingling from multiple orgasms - five mind blowing orgasms, to be exact. The most you’d ever had with a partner before was three - and while still sensational it was nothing compared to this. Making it clear that Eddie Munson was the best fuck you’ve ever had.

As you started to come down, you glanced over at Eddie. He was staring at the ceiling, his face a mix of disbelief and deep thought. "Eddie, what's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"Can I level with you?" he asked, his voice serious.

"Of course," you replied.

"It's pretty obvious that what we just had was too good to be a one-off," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "And it's not going to be easy to just go back like this never happened. I mean, I can't just pretend I don't know you've got a praise kink." He teased.

"Eddie!" You laughed, giving him a playful nudge.

"I'm only half kidding. I clocked that shit when I tried to teach you guitar, this just confirmed it," he admitted with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, a smirk on your lips. “So, what's your point?"

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow and looking at you seriously. “If you can handle keeping it casual, I think we should do this again.”

“Fucking hell, Munson didn't we address this on the couch? I wanted to fuck you, I'm not in love."

Eddie laughed. “Right, I know. But sometimes it can lead to that, and I just want to make sure you understand if we continue to hook up it will never be anything but physical. I can never offer you more, is that clear?"

You grinned. “Crystal."

"So, friends with benefits?” He asked.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips as your eyes locked with his.

"It's a Sexually Explicit Kind of Love Affair"

Two months had passed since you and Eddie established your friends-with-benefits arrangement, and you had both adhered to a set of rules: open communication, no exclusivity, and keeping things private. Your frequent hookups had become a thrilling part of your routine, each encounter more intense than the last, and quite a few that were unforgettable.

Fucked You in the Bathroom When We Went to Dinner: The two of you went to dinner with your friends to celebrate Vicky’s birthday. Amid the celebrations, you and Eddie shared knowing glances across the table and when the opportunity arose, you both slipped away, heading towards the restaurant's bathroom.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Eddie's hands were on you, pulling you close. He pressed your back against the wall, as his lips found yours in a rough kiss. His mouth began trailing along your jaw as you you reached down to unbuckle his belt. Eddie's pants were down around his knees, his hands hiking your dress up, growling when he saw you had no panties on. You lifted your leg, resting it on the sink, back still pressed to the wall as Eddie wasted no time before guiding himself into you. Your hands immediately threading through his hair as he sunk in.

Eddie's thrusts were urgent and desperate. "Fuck, can’t get enough of you," Eddie gasped, his breath hot against your neck.

You could only respond with a series of breathless moans. The pleasure building rapidly as Eddie's movements grew more intense. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place as he drove into you.

Your climax was approaching quickly, and you couldn't help but let out shrieks of pleasure. Eddie's hand reluctantly coming to cover your mouth to stifle the sounds. He loved hearing you, but not here.

“Shh, baby. I know," he whispered feeling you beginning to clench around him. You bit the palm of his hand to stop the scream that was desperate to escape you as your climax hit. His thrusts growing erratic as he came with you, burying his face in your neck, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

As you both caught your breath, you quickly adjusted your clothes, and you fixed Eddie's hair. You walked out first heading back to the table. Eddie arrived a few minutes later, drink in his hand as if he had been at bar the whole time, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he sat down.

Knee Deep in the Passenger Seat: It'd been a lively evening out at the bar playing pool with Chrissy, Eddie and his bandmates. You were keenly aware of the effect your outfit was having on Eddie as you'd chosen a particularly short skirt that barely covered your lacy black panties if you moved too much. So each time you bent over to take a shot, your underwear was tantalizingly visible.

As you lined up for another shot, Eddie approached, leaning in close. To any onlookers it would seem like he was giving you a tip to make your shot. "You're such a fucking tease," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You turned your head slightly, catching his eye with a sly grin. "I know, but you love it," you whispered back.

Eddie's gaze was fixed on you as he walked back to his spot against the wall. As you knelt over the table to take your shot, a smirk tugged at your lips knowing he was clearly struggling to focus on anything other than the view you were providing.

If Eddie could have had his way, he would have sunk to his knees right there and ate you out while you were bent over that pool table. But patience is a virtue.

As you turned to face him after landing your shot, you knew he was trying to maintain his composure.

When it was time to leave, Eddie offered to take you home. "Chris, I’ve got her. I pass her apartment on my way home anyway.” While that was true, you knew that wasn't his plan.

As you walked out, Eddie's eyes never left you, his gaze focused on the way your hips swayed with each step. When you reached the van, he opened the passenger door for you and you slid into the seat, feeling his intense gaze on you.

As you settled in your seat, you looked at Eddie who was still standing next to you. A sly grin pulling at his lips, as he stepped in. You were confused until he knelt down on the floor in front of you, shutting the door. His expression one of eagerness.

With his hands now gripping your thighs, he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against your skin. "I've been wanting to taste you all fucking night," he hummed, his voice low and filled with need.

You looked down at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. "Aw look at you, did I tease you so much that you can't even wait?"

Eddie’s big doe eyes, looked a lot less innocent in this position, darkening at your words. Hunger written all over his face.

In an instant he pulled your panties to the side, leaning forward so his head was nestled between your thighs. His tongue making contact with your bare slit, with a tantalizing slow lick. You gasped at the feeling. Eddie moaned against your pussy, "You taste so goddamn good,” his voice vibrating through your core.

The moment his tongue touched your clit, he was relentless, alternating between licking and sucking. Your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he savored you.

Within just a few short minutes you were a moaning mess, hands tangled in his hair, breath ragged, eyes screwed tight as you could feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm. Then suddenly, Eddie pulled away. Your release immediately ripped away from you.

His face flushed and glistening with your essence, looked up at you with a smirk. “Look at that, I can be just as much of a tease as you," he rasped.

You whined at the loss of contact. "Please, Eddie.”

“You’ll have to wait, baby.” He said, readjusting your underwear and skirt, wiping his mouth as he dipped out of the van and walked to the drivers side.

Truth be told, this was just as upsetting for him as it was for you. You were intoxicating and if he was being honest he’d love nothing more than to continue to devour your sweet cunt until you came all over his tongue - multiple times. But he thought it only fair that you feel the same strain that he had all night. He’d make it worth the wait when he got you to his trailer.

You're on your knees, I'm on the case: You had the day off, so what better way than to spend it in Eddie's bed. When you arrived at his trailer, he answered the door shirtless, wearing only boxers with a towel draped over his shoulder.

"I'm about to shower," Eddie said, ushering you inside and closing the door behind you. "I'll be out soon. Feel free to watch TV, the remote's on the table."

As Eddie went to shower, you settled on his couch, finishing up the episode of Seinfeld that was on. After about ten minutes, you began to get restless.

You could hear the shower running, steam cascading into the hall because Eddie didn't shut the door completely. You made your way to the bathroom, knocking on the door to let him know you were there as you walked in.

"Be out in a second, just gotta rinse my hair."

"Mind if I join ya instead?"

There was a brief pause before he responded, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Sure, come on in."

You quickly undressed and slipped into the shower the steam enveloping you. You were facing Eddie as the water was cascading down his hair. Some droplets hitting your body, as Eddie glanced over you with a grin.

You gave him a playful smirk before immediately dropping to your knees, positioning yourself in front of his hardening cock. Eddie's eyes locked onto you, filled with anticipation.

Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, the warmth of the water mingling with the heat of your breath. Eddie's response was immediate. His breath hitched, at the feeling. "Ahhh," he grunted, his voice thick with pleasure.

You began to move, sliding your lips up and down his length with practiced ease. Eddie's hands gripped the shower bar for support, his fingers tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Holy Shit," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "You're so good, that feels so fucking good."

You continued your rhythm, your mouth and tongue working him expertly. Eddie's groans grew louder, the pleasure clearly overwhelming him. "Oh god, yes," he panted, his hips thrusting gently to match your movements.

The water continued to cascade around you both, mingling with the sounds of Eddie's pleasure as you pushed him closer to the edge. "Don't stop, baby" he urged, his voice breaking. "I'm gonna cum."

With a final, deep stroke, Eddie came hard. You kept your mouth on him, sucking every drop as he moaned and gasped, his hands gripping the shower wall for dear life bracing himself.

His face was flushed, a mix of steam and sweat glistening on his skin. He looked down at you with awe and satisfaction. "You're fucking amazing," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

You stood up, and Eddie cupped your face, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. As your mouths moved together ,his cock began hardening again, ready for round two in his room.

"I know, "Baby, No Attachment!"

As the months passed the frequency of your encounters with Eddie had evolved beyond merely getting off. At first you considered that it was just your friendship deepening, but as time went on, you couldn't help but feel that these interactions between you were teetering the line of something more.

Eddie's band practices had effortlessly blended into your weekly routine. “Want to come to practice again?” he’d ask, flashing a grin. The first time he invited you, you joked about whether he had a fantasy of hooking up in Gareth’s garage or something. Eddie only laughed and said, “Nah, I just figured you might enjoy hearing us play and I thought it’d be nice to have you there.” Of course you went, and enjoyed every second of it, maybe even more than the shows. Seeing Eddie perform offstage, goof around with his bandmates, and brainstorm new arrangements was incredibly fun to witness.

By the third week into attending practice, Eddie offered another invitation. “Want to come with me to visit Wayne this Sunday?” he asked one afternoon. You hadn’t seen Wayne since he left Eddie the trailer, and although the invite surprised you, you agreed. Wayne’s warm hospitality was a delight, and seeing Eddie with his uncle gave you a new insight into his life - it felt special that he shared it with you.

You began noticing more changes in your own habits. Instead of going to social events alone, you often opted to ride with Eddie. Your weekend hookups had bloomed into near everyday occurrences, leading you to spend a lot more time at his trailer, as it offered much more privacy than your apartment - Eddie and you were rather loud. Eddie's loud anyway, but when he's inside you he doesn't shut up. Always talking you through it, telling you how good you're making him feel and he loves hearing what he does to you, so you never hold back.

On more than a few occasions you’d accidentally fallen asleep over there, and eventually Eddie just began inviting you to stay the night in the first place. Gradually, your personal items like a toothbrush, a few changes of clothes, and your favorite books made their way over. You were there so often that it was shifting from a convenient arrangement to something that felt more like a shared space.

The boundaries you’d set were being tested, and it was becoming harder to maintain the pretense that this was purely physical. The line between attraction and emotional connection was blurring, and although Eddie had always insisted that this arrangement was meant to stay casual, his actions seemed to contradict that. In those soft moments with him, at practice or Wayne's, or when you were lying in his bed wrapped up in his arms after another incredible fuck, you found yourself dreaming of more and every time you did you'd think back to Matt's insistence that there was something between you and Eddie. Back then you thought it was Matt's jealously, eventually giving way that it was underlying attraction but now like this you can't help but think maybe there has always been more simmering between you both.

You didn't dare say it though, you wanted to remain the “chill girl” who didn’t push. But the more time that passed the more you felt caught between holding your tongue and addressing the growing complexity of the situation.

"It's fine, it's cool, you can say that we're nothing but you know the truth."

The summer heat was beginning to wane as you and Eddie arrived at Steve’s Labor Day party.

You were enjoying yourself, chatting with Nancy when you overheard a conversation nearby. Eddie was talking to Chrissy, who had just referred to you and he as a couple.

“Oh, no, we’re not together,” Eddie said, a dismissive edge in his voice as he responded. The words hit you like a slap. You knew what you had signed up for, but it still stung, especially when the lines had been blurring for months.

You attempted to shake it off, focusing on the friends around you. However, as the evening wore on, the frustration you felt was hard to ignore. Eddie’s behavior had been increasingly confusing. And this comment felt like the final straw - if your friends could see it, why couldn't he?

When the party ended, Eddie drove you back to his trailer with Metallica blasting through the speakers. The music did little to ease the anger you were feeling.

Once inside the trailer, Eddie reached out his hands gripping your waist, as his lips found yours. The kiss felt good, almost intoxicating, but your anger quickly reclaimed its hold as the words "we're not together" echoed in your mind.

You pulled back, needing a moment to regain your composure. Eddie’s eyes searched yours, confusion in his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asked softly.

"I'm not really feeling it right now,” you said firmly, pulling away from his touch. "I think I'm going to head home actually."

Eddie’s face fell for a moment before a small smile played at his lips. "You don't need to go, stay the night. We can watch a movie."

A few months ago, this invitation would have felt like a friendly gesture. After all, the beauty of a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement is that it starts with a foundation of friendship. But tonight it was just a bitter reminder of how these nights have morphed into something much more complex. At the start of your arrangement, movie nights often transitioned from watching the film to fucking until the credits rolled. This felt natural, expected. But now the dynamic of movie nights has grown significantly more intimate; cuddling on the couch, Eddie softly playing with your hair, and gentle kisses between scenes. All gestures that are only typical in, well - relationships. You've had enough.

"Eddie, are you being avoidant or are you truly oblivious to what's going on?"

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?"

"Us. This," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "It feels different, and it has for a while now." You took a deep breath, struggling to steady your voice. "Eddie, even our friends notice it."

"This is about Chrissy's comment?" he asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.

"You were so quick to dismiss it."

"We're not a couple, so that probably has something to do with it," he said, with a laugh. "What was I supposed to say?"

You gave him a short nod, as you began to gather your things. "It's not even about what you said, it's about what you're not saying."

The frustration was evident on Eddie's face. "I thought we were both on the same page about this," he said, following you.

"Dammit, Eddie," you turned towards him, your voice rising. "We were, but it’s hard to feel like we’re still casual when my favorite bra lives in your dresser!"

Eddie’s expression shifted, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he still held his ground. "From the start, I told you I don’t do relationships. I never promised you anything more than what we agreed on."

You scoffed. “I know, and that’s exactly why I’ve kept my mouth shut for so long. But you’ve pulled me into every aspect of your life, and it’s not the same anymore. If you weren’t so hung up on that concept, maybe you’d admit what you’re feeling.”

“Don’t," he said sternly. "Don't try and make me out to be the bad guy because you couldn't keep your own feelings in check.”

His words felt like a punch in your gut. You could feel the lump take perch in your throat, trying to swallow it back but the tears were coming.

Eddie’s expression softened as he noticed your your eyes glistening. He watched helplessly as you continued to pack, his frustration morphing into anguish as tears streamed down your face.

"Wait,” he pleaded. "Let's talk, we can take a step back."

Your hands shook as you stuffed your clothes into your bag, sobs coming in ragged, painful gasps. “A step? We'd have to take twenty," you choked out, your voice breaking.

Eddie looked away, struggling to reconcile your pain with his own fears. "I just, I'm sorry I confused you. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea."

"Maybe you didn't intend for things to change, but they did. We both let them. I did because I liked it, why did you Eddie?"

His stomach twisted at that.

“Every rule we set, you broke," you continued, bitterness lacing your voice. "It was all ‘let’s keep it discreet’ until you kissed me between songs at practice. What the fuck was that?! ‘We need open communication,’ but you never talked about any line we crossed." Your voice rose despite your sobs. "For fucks's sake Eddie, we haven't been exclusive yet for six months, you’ve called after me! Going as far as turning down others because you want me in your bed. Whether we fuck or we don't."

Eddie stood still, motionless, as the weight of your words sunk in.

"You can try to downplay this all you want, but deep down you know. And it's why your past hookups could never satisfy you the way I do.” Tears streamed down your face as you glared at Eddie.

The silence grew heavy between you as Eddie struggled to find a response.

"I don't know what you want me to say. I can’t just flip a switch and become something I’m not. I made my stance clear from the beginning," his voice wavering as he spoke.

You shook your head in disappointment. "Got it." Your tears fell harder, and Eddie’s own eyes were on the verge of tears as he watched you zip up your bag.

“Baby,” he started, his voice trembling as he reached out a hand towards you.

“Don’t, Eddie,” you scolded, your voice a harsh whisper. “You don't wanna call it love, fine. But it's done."

Eddie’s face twisted in confusion and frustration as you finished speaking. He seemed to get only a fraction of what you were saying. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice cracking with desperation. "We'll just go back to how it was before. I mean, we can just forget about all this..."

"You're not getting it, Eds" you replied, your voice steady despite the tears. "I can’t be your friend.”

Eddie’s face contorted with panic. "No, don’t say that," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I’m sorry I led you on. We can go back - just like it was. We can fix this." Tears welling up as he tries to grasp what you're saying.

"Eddie, it wasn't just that. This whole thing between us has made me realize that maybe… maybe I had feelings for you long before we hooked up."

Eddie's face pales, his panic escalating as he struggles to process what you've just admitted. "What the fuck is happening right now?" he says, his voice rising in distress. He collapses onto the couch, his body shaking as the gravity of the situation hits him full force.

"Before we, before this, you said you didn't," he mutters, almost to himself, as he tries to reconcile your words with his memories.

"I didn’t realize it then," you admit, your voice breaking.

Eddie’s face was wet with his own tears now, his hands trembling as he held his face, listening to you explain.

"I never would’ve let anyone else call me a nickname I hated. Anyone else’s persistence would’ve been stopped but it just sounded so pretty coming from your mouth..." Your voice was choked with emotion. “And I think being honest with myself about that, along with everything we’ve been doing... I've realized that maybe I was being a fool to think it was ever just attraction."

Eddie breaks down, his tears flowing freely. "Goddammit" he chokes out, his voice thick with regret. “I can't-"

You cut him off knowing what he was going to say. "I know Eds, you've made it clear," your voiced cracked, sobs breaking through the words. "You were right to worry this would get messy, I'm sorry I told you I could handle it." You took a deep breath and looked at him one last time, the ache in your chest almost unbearable. You slung your bag over your shoulder, heading for the door. "I'd probably do it again though."

"I don't want to lose you,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper as he tried to hold back his emotions.

Your heart broke at his words but you knew this was the choice you had to make, even if it wasn't what you wanted.

"I have to go," you said as you turned and walked out of the trailer.

“You just need a better life than this / You need somethin' I can never give”

Eddie’s tears fell uncontrollably as you left. Watching you walk away was like a rift tearing through time and space, an unbearable ache that pierced his soul.

His mind spiraled in a loop, like a broken record that kept repeating the same line: It was a mistake. He knew better, he knew better than to get involved with you, but he had, and now you were gone. Eddie had wanted to believe that you could handle something casual, he risked it because he had an insatiable hunger that only you had satiated. His own denial ran so deep he hadn’t even fully accepted the magnitude of what was happening between the two of you until your words hit him like a freight train tonight. But as Eddie sat there, drenched in regret, his mind wandered to all things you.

Eddie had always been branded the freak for being a little outside the box, and while he stayed true to himself it was always a bit toned down when he met new people. However when he met you, he knew he didn't have to do that. While you could fit neatly into the box, you didn't care to. Eddie was instantly captivated by you, and it wasn't just because you were stunning - it was your wit, and charm that pulled him in.

He could never forget the first day he realized he wanted to kiss you. It was one of the early times you hung out - that night you were complaining about "Dirty Dancing." You just kept rambling - so comically irritated, he found it hilarious and he wanted to just shut you up with his lips. He couldn't help himself coining, "Baby" for you. It had felt right rolling off his tongue, and even though you shot him an annoyed look, he could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile. Eddie then proceeded to try and get you to reenact the lift scene from the movie, but you refused with a firm “Fuck no, Munson.” Robin wouldn't either, but Steve, high as a kite, agreed. Of course it ended with them flat on the floor and the four of you laughing your asses off. For whatever reason that night marked a turning point for your friendship - the two of you began spending time together outside of your shared circle. It was always a little touchy, a little flirty and Eddie was constantly having to push the urge to kiss you outside of his mind.

Steve was always trying to persuade Eddie to just go for it, but Eddie wasn’t interested. He typically only hooked up with the same person three times - if ever more than once. He feared that if he ever got involved with you he wouldn’t be able to go back, and commitment was something he wasn't into. Fast forward three years and nothing's changed. Still, one night around two years ago he nearly let his guard down.

A group of you had gathered at a nearby bar before Corroded Coffin’s first paid show at The Hideout.

“Let me buy a round for you guys, a little liquid courage before tonight!" you insisted. Gareth joked that it wasn't necessary when they had Eddie's good luck charm - You. “Is that why you keep me around, Munson?” you teased, planting a playful kiss on his cheek. “For a little extra luck,” you said with a wink and a smile before heading to the bar. In that moment, Eddie was certain he had to kiss you.

When you returned with a round of tequila shots, your cheeks flushed and your smile bright, you explained that the handsome guy at the bar; Matt - asked you out and then proceeded to buy the round of shots for you when you'd said yes.

As Jeff raised his shot and toasted, "To Matt!" Eddie looked at you, realizing that it was better this way. It would have been foolish to kiss you. You deserved someone who could offer you more.

Eddie’s mind whirled, jumping from that almost kiss to the fateful night on your couch. He should've went home because from that moment everything changed. You were sensational, the way your body responded to him, the way you sounded, the way you made him feel. He was right to know himself, that after a taste, he would never want to go without. He was selfish for this.

The past 6 months together Eddie had recognized little shifts, but he'd ignored them. Looking back it was probably June when things first began to change from the raw thrill of a good time to something that hinted at a little more intimacy. Your presence had turned his bed into a sacred oasis, where he felt truly seen and understood. The laughter, the warmth, the touch - it was all part of a connection he cherished. Yet, every time it felt like it was too much, he would push it out his head, trying to drown out the truth that he felt something more. Even if he wanted to risk all for you, he couldn’t. He wasn’t good enough to make you his.

This painful realization was a truth he had to face. His fear of inadequacy and his belief that he couldn’t sustain a meaningful relationship had driven a wedge between you. And now, with you gone, he was left grappling with the reality that he had pushed away the one person who had made him question his own defenses. Sitting on his couch, a headache pounding from his tears, he tried to sleep, searching for some sort of peace.

In the weeks that followed, Eddie rarely visited his bedroom. It was a space tainted by your absence. His home felt hollow, so he picked up extra shifts at the diner, and crashed at Gareth’s when he could. He thought about reaching out to you, admitting you were right, that he loved you too, but he knew it wouldn’t change a fucking thing. He still couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wasn’t ready for a relationship, not when he didn’t believe he was enough.

You deserved the best, and Eddie was convinced he wasn't that - he was stil a pot dealer, bussing tables to make ends meet and for some free food, just dreaming of a future with his band. How could he be the right person for you when he didn't have much to offer.

Eddie had been so absorbed in the band that he had drifted from the usual social circle. The only time he’d seen Steve and Robin since your departure was after one of his show the last weekend in September. They had approached him, and Eddie, looking weary and regretful, had apologized for not being around much. He wanted desperately to ask about you - God, he did - but he struggled to find the right words.

When Steve and Robin happened to mention they hadn’t heard from you either, Eddie’s heart sank. You were probably avoiding them, likely to keep from running into him. Steve, with a knowing look, asked if the two of you had gotten involved. Eddie gave a brief, vague answer that painted a picture of your arrangement without exposing too much.

“Maybe try reaching out to her though," he suggested.

Robin nodded solemnly. “Of course,” she replied, understanding the complexity of the situation without needing more.

The days blurred into weeks as Eddie threw himself into his band, trying to escape the gnawing emptiness and the haunting memory of you. Each gig was an escape, but it never lasted. The real struggle was coming back to an empty space, a home without the one person who had made everything feel right.

“Back when we were still changin' for the better / Wanting was enough / For me, it was enough"

It was the kind of night that makes you want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over your head, except you weren’t in bed. You were behind the wheel of your car, heading home after leaving the man that you loved.

As the tears flowed freely, your mind drifted to the most serious relationships you’d had; you college boyfriend, your relationship with Matt - both seemed like mere practice compared to what you shared with Eddie. He wasn’t just the best fuck you’d ever had, he was the best person you’d ever known. The thought of never being around him again was agonizing.

Returning to your apartment felt like a warm welcome from an old friend. You had spent nearly all of August entwined in Eddie’s bedsheets, living for the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together. You uncorked a fresh bottle of Riesling, not even bothering with a glass as you tried to drown out the fact that Eddie was never truly yours.

Weeks after leaving Eddie, the silence was deafening. The ache of not hearing from him, of not knowing how he was, ate at you incessantly. You knew that this was your choice, yet you'd expected some sign - any sign - that he was still there, still thinking of you.

You threw yourself into work, hoping that staying busy would numb the pain. But this came at a price - you isolated yourself from your friends, avoided their calls, and shut yourself off from the world that might remind you of Eddie.

When Robin buzzed your intercom one evening, her arrival was a welcome disruption to your self-imposed exile. She stood at your door with pizza and ice cream in hand, a silent understanding in her eyes.

"Hey," she said softly, a warm smile breaking through her concern. "I thought you could use some company."

You invited her in, your heart heavy as you tried to muster a smile. You sat in your living room, as you finally let your emotions spill out.

Between sobs, you managed to ask, "How is he?"

Robin took a deep breath, clearly choosing her words carefully. "He hasn't been around either, but Steve and I saw him last weekend, he's been busy with the band. They're doing really well - they’re working hard to catch the eye of an A&R rep to help develop them. When we told him we hadn’t heard from you, he briefly explained why that might be, and not that I wouldn't have anyway - but he was one that suggested this."

He had thought of you. That was enough to make you break down again. Robin wrapped her arms around you.

“It’s okay," she whispered.

Robin comforted you the rest of the night. Reassuring you that in time it will get better. As Robin was on her way out you told her that while you missed everyone it was just too hard right now, and you needed more time.

She nodded, understanding. "We’ll be here whenever you’re ready."

As she left, you felt hope amidst the sadness. But even with that hope, you found it difficult to move forward. You almost mustered the courage to attend Jonathan and Nancy’s Halloween party, but after getting dressed, you couldn’t bring yourself to go. A week later, you had plans for lunch with Steve and Chrissy but the nausea of confronting your emotions kept you from following through. It was still too soon to be around the people who reminded you of Eddie, so you stayed away, in your cocoon of sorrow, hoping that someday the pain would ease enough to allow you to step back into your life.

“And from the outside / It looks like you're tryin' lives on / I miss the old ways / You didn't have to change/ But I guess I don't have a say / Now that we don't talk"

It was the second week of November, and you’d decided to go out for drinks with some colleagues. You were at a bar you’d never been to before, located on the other side of town - quite far from the usual spots you and your friends frequented. With the slim chance of running into anyone you knew, you let your guard down and enjoyed the evening.

You were so engrossed in your conversation that you almost missed it. At first, you thought you’d imagined it, but then you heard it again. Your stomach dropped, and a wave of heat washed over you as you recognized Eddie’s unmistakable voice. Looking around, it was Gareth you spotted first, and as you looked for Eddie, your heart sank. He looked drastically different - his once long hair was now a buzz cut, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, while dressed in a navy striped button-down. His signature leather jacket draped over the back of his chair the only remnant of the man you remembered.

Despite your attempts to refocus on your colleagues, your attention kept drifting back to Eddie and the band. They were celebrating with a round of shots, and you wondered if they were marking a milestone. Since the round of drinks you’d suggested for their first paid gig, you knew they had a tradition of celebrating this way. Your heart sank as you overheard Eddie’s toast: the local station had agreed to start playing their music, and they were promised a small tour around neighboring states in the new year.

Watching the band’s journey over the past three years - early gigs at house shows to paid gigs at dive bars - you knew you had to say something, not just to Eddie but to all of them. You were proud of their progress, and after witnessing their hard work at countless practices this year, it felt right to acknowledge their accomplishments. You couldn't deny that it almost felt kismet, that you were here tonight.

As your coworkers began wrapping up their night, you excused yourself. You made your way over to the band’s table, your heart racing. As you approached their table, Gareth’s eyes lit up as he saw you.

“Well, look who it is!” Gareth exclaimed.

Eddie turned, his smile dropped as he took in your presence.

“Of all the gin joints, you walk into the one I’m in?” you joked, attempting to ease the awkwardness. The band chuckled, and you continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear you guys. I just wanted to come over and say congratulations. I know how hard you’ve all worked."

The band echoed their gratitude before Gareth suggested you join them. A sudden, overwhelming discomfort gripped you. This was a mistake. Every lingering feeling you had for Eddie rushed back, and you struggled to maintain composure. "Oh thank you, but I need to get home," you said, attempting to mask the unease. "But I'm really happy for you all."

As you started to walk away, Eddie rose from his seat. "Baby, wait," he called out.

There it was, the nickname only he called you. The one you'd been desperate to hear.

You stopped, turning slightly to face him as he reached you. "I, um, just wanted to say thanks for that. I really appreciated you coming to the table."

"Of course," you said softly.

His eyes roamed over your figure as he took in the way your dress fit, and a low, almost involuntary groan escaped him. "Wow, that dress, you... you look incredible."

You gave him a thankful nod. It hurt you to hear him say that, knowing you'd bought this dress months ago solely with the intention of him taking it off.

"Me? Look at you. You look so... I don't know. Refined, maybe?"

Eddie raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or...?"

"Oh, y'know you always look good," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "But I'd be lying if I said the hair didn't shock me a bit at first," you admitted.

Eddie's eyes softened, and he responded with a chuckle. "It's weird for me, still. I haven't had a buzz cut since middle school. But I just needed... a change."

His words hit you harder than expected, and you felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as shook your head in acknowledgement.

He smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. "I want you to know I thought about reaching out, but I wasn't sure..." he trailed off.

You nodded again, appreciating the sentiment, a small smile on your lips as you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. "I really should go, but I am truly so proud of you, Eddie," you said, your voice wavering. "Ever since I met you, I've seen how hard you've worked for what you want, and I'm so happy that it's paying off."

The words seemed to break something in him. Instinctively, he reached out, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. "I've missed you," he breathed into your hair.

You hugged him tightly, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I've missed you too," you whispered back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped, and you wished you could stay there forever. But as much as you wanted to linger, you knew you had to go. You slowly pulled away, forcing a smile through the tears. "I'm really glad I got to see you," you said softly.

Eddie looked at you, his gaze lingering as if he were on the verge of saying something more, but he simply nodded. "Me too," he said quietly.

“And I’d give up forever to touch you / ‘cause I know that you feel me somehow / you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be / and I don’t want to go home right now”

The ride home felt like déjà vu. Another teary-eyed drive to your apartment after walking away from the man you loved.

Once you were home, you sank into the couch. Wrapped in a blanket, tears streamed down your face as The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead album played on the record player. For the 17th of November, the weather was a bit of a mess. It honestly felt poetic, the thunderstorm mirroring the emotions you were feeling. Every crack of thunder echoed your sobs.

About an hour into your pity party, you were starting to regain some composure when the buzz of the intercom startled you. You figured it was your neighbor, who often used the wrong buzzer, so you hit the button to let them in. Just as you were about to lay back in your spot on the couch, you heard a knock at your apartment door. Curious and a bit irritated, you peered through the peephole and froze. It was Eddie, drenched from the rain, with tears streaming down his face. Your heart raced as you swung the door open, and he walked in, shutting the door behind him.

"Eddie, what-" Before you could utter another word, he started rambling.

“What are the fucking odds you’d be at that bar tonight?” he began, his voice breaking. “On a night that was supposed to be a highlight in my life, and all I wanted was to share it with you.” His words came out in fractured gasps, his tears mixing with the rain on his face.

“When you said I fought for everything I wanted, it felt like a knife twisting in my chest because... it’s a lie. it's a fucking lie when I let you leave.” His voice cracked, and he struggled to steady himself.

“I should’ve told you this at the bar,” he choked, his tears falling harder now. “It felt like fucking fate that you were there tonight, and I still let you walk away. Again! I'm so sorry for the way things turned out. I should've fought for us. I should've fought for you. I let you go because I couldn’t admit I loved you. Even though you knew - of course fucking you knew - because you see me, all of me. And you’ve loved me through it, even when I didn’t think it was possible.” He buried his face in his hands, wiping his tears and catching his breath.

“I was convinced I wasn’t enough for you,” he continued. “But you wanted me all the same. I’m so sorry that I didn't call you weeks ago. I’m sorry for being so scared that I'm not what you deserve, that I let you walk out of my life because every day without you has been fucking hell.” His breaths came in jagged, broken waves. “I thought I could move on, try to forget it, but the goddamn world would have to stop before I could ever stop feeling this for you... It’s always been you.”

“Eddie,” you breathed.

Eddie stepped forward, his hands cupping your face. “I'm still not sure if I'm the man you deserve, but I'd like to try if you’ll have me.”

You nodded at his words, tears streaming down your face. Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss that began tenderly but quickly deepened, fueled by a desperate need to reconnect and erase the distance that had come between you. Your moans mingled as your tongues met, and Eddie's hands tangled in your hair. When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, you rested your foreheads together.

“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you whispered.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your forehead.

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lovebugism · 10 months ago

Note

"we’re arguing when the ball drops on new year’s eve, and decide to kiss and shit i don’t think i hate you anymore"

with eddie and grumpy!r pls

ty for requesting! :D — your new years kiss ends up being the loudmouth, metalhead, wild-haired boy you can't stand (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Another year passes in a blink, and suddenly everyone around you is chanting “new year, new me” like it’s not just some overdone mantra destined to be forgotten by mid-February.

It’s not surprising that you and Eddie are the only two not participating in the holiday theatrics. It’s also not surprising that the two of you are spending the entirety Steve’s New Years party bickering like a married couple on the couch.

You both got dragged here — you by Robin, and him by Dustin — and the two of you are acting like total grumps about it accordingly. And even though you can’t stand being in the same room as each other, you’ve been shoulder-to-shoulder in the living room all night.

You’re sitting pretty in a black dress beside him, scowling like a storm cloud while Eddie scoops a handful of pretzels in his mouth. Seemingly noticing your side-eyed glare, he starts to chew more audibly because he knows how much you hate it. The slow and rhythmic smack smack smack makes the chatter around you sound more distant as your skin begins to crawl.

Eddie smiles when you tense — wider when you glare at him.

“Sometimes I wonder why I hate you, and then you do stuff like that, and I think to myself, “oh yeah, that’s why.”

He grins with all his teeth, pretzels crumbs and all. “The feeling’s mutual, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you grumble with a roll of your eyes.

You shake your crossed leg to the music playing softly overhead and try to focus on the television in front of you. The staticky film of Times Square isn’t quite as distracting as the boy beside you — and not just because he’s purposefully trying to annoy you.

He has no right to be this pretty, with his wild hair and black button-up and smudged eyeliner. It’s hardly fair.

“Don’t act like one, and I won’t,” he retorts, muffled through the food in his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s disgusting.”

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you the widest smile he’s ever looked at you with. The bits of chewed-up pretzel in his teeth make you grimace.

“You’re a child,” you deadpan.

Eddie laughs — a pretty little sound in a scoffed-out breath.

He sits the half-empty bowl on the coffee table, then pushes his sleeves to his elbows. His arms are pale, lanky, and tattooed. Some of the ink is faded and messy, obviously not done by professionals. You think those intrigue you the most. You’d ask about the stories behind them if you even cared.

Eddie rests his elbows on his knees and looks at you over his shoulder. His smile is pink and made of honey — his eyes dark and made of fire.

“You can act like you hate me all you want, but everyone here knows you’re obsessed with me,” he teases with a scrunched nose, motioning to the room with his pointer finger.

No one’s paying either of you any mind. They’re too focused on their own conversations to care about the ones you and Eddie have had a thousand times over. You try to act as disinterested as they do. You think you’re playing the part pretty well, honestly, but Eddie’s looking at you with a twinkle in his eye like he can see right through it.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Munson.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” he huffs and leans back again, spreading his arms across the back of the couch.

The sudden proximity isn’t lost in you. Neither is the smell of nicotine and sandalwood radiating off of him. It stirs a velvety feeling in the pit of your stomach that you try hopelessly to shove down.

“You must be completely and utterly blind, then.”

“Uh-uh,” he hums with a shake of his wild head. “Twenty-twenty vision, baby.” He leans in close to croon the words in your ear, and your heart lurches into your throat. You shove him off with a half-hearted hand anyway.

“Get off me!” you groan, face scrunched in a childlike annoyance. “And don’t call me baby.”

Eddie settles back beside you with a subtle pout between his brows. “If I can’t call you princess and I can’t call you baby, then what am I supposed to call you?”

“Nothing!” you shout, like being called baby hadn’t stirred something foreignly pleasant behind your ribcage. “Don’t call me anything! Don’t call me at all—”

“Guys! Come here! The ball’s about to drop!” Dustin shouts over the chatter to get everyone’s attention, a bit too loudly. He stands in front of the television along with the rest of the small crowd, ogling at the bad reception of the Times Square Ball and a flashing countdown.

“Sounds like me in middle school,” Eddie jokes, making Steve snort out a laugh when he walks in from the kitchen. You shoot the wild-haired boy a squinted look of disgust and he chuckles. “Oh, c’mon! That was funny, and you know it.”

“Ten!” the crowd begins to chorus.

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble.

“And you’re the one who’s obsessed with the idiot, so… Who’s the real weirdo?”

“Nine!”

“Still you.”

“Ooh,” Eddie lilts, plush lips softly pouted. “So you are obsessed with me?”

“Eight!”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “You love putting words in my mouth, don’t you?”

“Like I said,” the boy hums with a smug smile. “Just calling it like I see it, honey.”

“Seven!”

The dumb name shouldn’t make you melt like it does. You turn into a puddle before you can come up with another comeback. You forget how to form words and get lost in how soft his lips look, pink and delicate like a flower. God, he’s so pretty, you hate him.

“Six!” your friends continue to chant, the only sound in the expansive living room. “Five!”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, honestly,” the boy assures with an absentminded shrug, tilting his flushed cheek to his shoulder and flashing you an unkissed grin.

“Four!”

“You’re not the first girl to fall head over heels for me, and you won’t be the last.”

The corner of your lip curls into a quiet smirk. You squint at him, eyes twinkling with mischief and a sudden longing for him to eat his words. “Is that so?” you croon lowly.

“Three!”

He leans in like he’s about to tell you a secret. The nicotine-whiskey concoction on his breath brushes your cheek. Screw the alcohol in your abandoned cup — you’d sooner get drunk on him.

“I’ll make sure to let you down easy, alright? I promise,” Eddie hums with a feigned seriousness.

“Yeah?”

“Two!”

He nods, bushy brows pinching softly together and petaled mouth gently pouting. “Yeah. I’m not in the heartbreaking business, you know? I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, princess, but you should there’s no way in hell that I’m ever gonna—”

“One!” the house chants together, louder this time as they shout, “Happy New Year!”

You blink, and suddenly everyone’s grabbing onto somebody.

Robin and Vickie share a quiet peck you don’t miss in the corner of the room. Mike and El smack a more obvious kiss in the very center of it. A newly grown-up Dustin tries his chances with Nancy, glancing at her with a silent smile she shakes her head at — “Not a chance, kiddo,” she says with a soft pink grin. Even Max leans over to brush a kiss to Lucas’ cheek, right before scowling at him, “This doesn’t mean we’re back together, Sinclair.”

So you feel it’s only right, that in a room of kissed mouths, you get kissed, too.

Eddie is the perfect victim. Mostly because he hasn’t stopped yapping since he sat down beside you, some hours ago now. You reach for him, splaying your hand across his warm jaw (that grows somehow hotter beneath your touch), and pressing a kiss to his blabbering mouth.

You swallow all the half-hearted insults he spews at you because he thinks you really hate him. In Eddie’s mind, if being mean is how he gets closer to you, then when you go low, he’ll go all the way to hell.

You don’t kiss him like you hate him, though. You kiss him like you can taste stars in his mouth. Like the rest of your whole life is sitting on his tongue.

Your mouth locks with his for a moment, kissing the breath from his lungs, only to pull away a second later.

Eddie’s totally frozen when you’re gone. The loudmouth boy — who you decided to hate if you couldn’t love — is left so suddenly speechless. He blinks at you with heavy, velvet eyes and grieves a thing he didn’t even know he could have.

A grin pulls at your freshly kissed mouth. It feels good to have the upper hand again.

“You’re never gonna what?” you tease, tilting your head like you’re innocent.

His mouth parts for an answer. Nothing comes out.

Your smile widens. “That’s what I thought. Honey.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

1K notes · View notes

mrsmnsn · 9 months ago

Text

My valentine

Summary: You and your best friend found a way to get away from all the valentine’s day by doing your own program. But, being alone for a long time only meant you two were horny and needy for affection.

wc: 3.3k (i got a little excited writing it, sorry)

warnings: friends to lovers; smut!!! +18 please (you’re responsible for yourself babe, but i warned you); fluff; masturbation (m!reciving); inexperienced!femreader. Tell if something is missing.

authors note: I know i’m a little late with valentines thing but i couldn’t help myself. I really liked the result and i hope you do too. It’s a new thing writing smutty things but i hope it’s not terrible. <3

*update*- i just posted a part two!

**********

It was valentine’s day and you felt like you were the loneliest person in the world. Everyone was with their partners when you were all by yourself. Of course you were being dramatic but you were tired of having to pretend that it was okay to be single because you don’t needed a boy to make you happy. But you wanted to.

The same thing happened to your best friend. Eddie was all by himself. He was never the guy the girls would die for. They were too scared to see how pretty he was. But he also had been feeling kind of alone. He would walk in the market and see all the decorations he hated so much. Not only in school, everywhere, people would be all over each other. He always hated valentine’s day but he never knew that was because of his jealousy and would always blame in the capitalism and its ways to persuade people.

As you both would be alone, to distract you from thinking about couples making out, you created your own thing. You would go at each other’s house to watch movies together, eat junk food and talk about stuff. For two years you’ve been doing this and this year was your time being a host. At this time, you got lucky your parents weren’t home for the week. In the first year, you brought Eddie home and your mom kept asking non stop questions about him and how did you finally realized you were made for each other.

“You’re late.” You opened the door for him, taking the boxes off his hands.

“I’m sorry my lady, is my butler work not good enough for you?” He said in a english accent mocking you. “There was a lot of people ordering pizzas too. They copied our idea.”

“Fine. I just took the cookies out of the oven.” You pointed to the baking sheet “What movies did you pick?”

“Well, let’s see.There is the movie you asked for with the cats”

“Did you take the right one? Or just some movie about a cat?”

“Is the Disney one, right? The Aristocats? I got this one, nightmare on elm street and fast times at ridgemont high.” Eddie only took this last one because Steve said ’there’s some very interesting scenes about a girl, if you know what i mean’. Of course Eddie knew the girl’s titties would show up, he’d never watched it because he thought it would be a shitty movie. “If i want to see boobs i’ll just watch porn or i’ll buy a magazine” he would say. But he really thought about it and that would be the only way to make you watch something like that with him.

Once he asked if girls watched porn and you just ignored the question. He wanted to see your reaction and he knew you would never watch something like that, let alone with a guy. It would be the closest thing to porn you’d watch.

Also it was a secret to no one that he had a little massive crush on you. Maybe it was a secret only for you. Eddie don’t even know when did it started. One day you were just a girl who he was friends with but suddenly you were much more then that. You were hot, interesting, cute, smart and he couldn’t help but be enamored with you. But he never did anything to change that, to afraid of making you run away from him. To him, in that situation, your relationship as friends was more important. He wouldn’t stand to lose you. So he buried his feelings deep down and pretended it that never happened.

“Eddie it’s not Halloween. We’re not watching that, you know i can’t sleep afterwards.”

“Alright, no horror movies” He discarded the movie

“So is gonna be aristocats and this other movie. Is this even good? I never saw it.” Of course you saw it. Since Dustin told you guys his girlfriend was a hotter version of Phoebe Cates you had to. You scolded him after.

“It was on the recommendation board so we’ll have to trust in that”

********

Eddie had never seen the Disney movie before. It was for kids but you always loved it since you were a little kid. And if you loved, he’d watch it for you (he would not admit but he loved it too). There you were in the second movie. You had seen it two years ago so you were focused on the movie. But with that, you forgot about the boobs

“Oh…” Your cheeks got red. Seeing that by yourself was ok. But right by Eddie’s side, you got embarrassed and tried not to look at the tv in front of you. In the meantime, he was looking at you to see your reaction.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen” He said trying to sound like he was surprised

“Don’t worry, i see this every day.”

Eddie didn’t payed attention in the movie anymore. Were you talking about porn?

When the movie ended you went to bed and Eddie came with you. Being friends for a long time made you so accustomed to be around each other that now you would insist that he would sleep with you in your bed and not on the couch.

He would not sleep if he kept the question to himself. He had to ask.

“Good night Eds. Thanks for today. It was really nice!”

“Sure sweetheart, i had a good time too!”

And the place got quiet. It was now or never.

“Hey… can i ask you something?”

You just hummed

“Well… Earlier, when we were watching the movie you said that you would see it everyday when we saw the girl’s titties. With that do you… you know, d’ya mean you see boobs everyday in like, porn?”

“What? Why would you say that?” You said looking at his face even though the room was dark

“I don’t know why it just came in my head like, come on!”

“Eddie… i’m a girl. I see them everyday because i have them. Just like every woman. Go sleep, will ya.”

Eddie don’t know if that make it better or worse. Not that he didn’t know you had boobs. Of course you had. But now, you had boobs, you’d watch them and everything came to Eddie as a movie. Or as a dream in witch it really did. Right by your side, in your bed, in your house. Eddie had a wet dream about you. I wasn’t the first time. But it was in you house, close to you. Till then, he was sleeping and his mind was working on making him hard by the images of you touching your boobs while you were fucked by him.

You had woken up first, not realizing his morning wood, you went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to take a glass of water and came back. But now he’d moved and, in his sweatpants, his “situation” was pretty obvious.

That scared the shit out of you. What would you do? Should you go back to sleep? Or try to pretend you never saw it. You weren’t a boy, but that seemed to be very uncomfortable. Suddenly you got hot. Seeing his dick poking out in his pants, his bare torso shown by his shirt that was lifted up. His wild hair that framed his face. Of course you knew you had feelings for Eddie, but you never did anything to let him know. It was a secret only for you and you only. You couldn’t do anything about your best friend. Even if he had a boner and got you all worked up.

He started to move around and to wake up when he saw you sitting on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Before saying anything he felt it. “Holy fuck!” that’s what he thought. He started to panic. Did you saw it. Would he be fast enough to run to the bathroom and try to work on it. “No, you shithead, you can’t jerk in her bathroom”

You realize his movements and looked at him. You knew that he knew you knew. Now the blanket were covering him.

“Mornin” He said casually and you nodded you head, trying not to lend your eyes on his cock to see if you could still see his bulge. “You saw it, right?”

“Saw what? I-I just woke up!” You said a little to fast “I mean, i barely opened my eyes and- yeah, i saw it.” you stopped when you saw his expressions getting amused. If you already saw it, there wasn’t a reason to be concerned anymore.

“Don’t worry, that happens sometimes” he said as if he didn’t have any dreams. It was just normal

“What? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, sort of…” He said remembering you in his dream and resisting the urge to touch his cock

“Can’t you like, turn it off or something”

He laughed at you face. You were getting more and more uncomfortable and in the same time, a bit horny. “It’s not like the tv we watched last night. You can’t turn it off.”

“But…” You saw his face. He was looking at you “I don’t get it”

“Well, i don’t know how to explain it” He tried to sound confident about it “It’s like when your nipples get hard when you women get cold. It not a thing you control” That part was true. He couldn’t control his dick or his mind so he wouldn’t find you attractive.

“But it seems to be painful” You said looking at him getting up.

“It is a little. I’ll go to the bathroom to try to ‘turn it off’” He said giggling

“Wait Eddie!” He turned to you and now you could see how big he was. Even with his pants, it was visible. “You don’t have to do it by yourself. Can i do something? Like, can i help you?”

Eddie froze in place. He would go take a cold shower and have thoughts about random things that wasn’t you. He was not going to masturbate in there. Was he still dreaming?

“Sorry! Oh i’m so so sorry. I don’t know what i was thinking about” You regret when you saw how his face got to serious.

“No no no. Don’t be sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He sat again looking at you cover your face “I mean, we’re friends. Last time i checked, friends don’t usually give a handy to other friends.”

“I’m so fucking stupid and embarrassingly alone that i let this stupid date get in my mind. I don’t know…”

“Were you willing to do it? For real?” He was really curious to know if you would jerk him off. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m sorry, it’s fucking crazy!” Hugging your knees, you looked at him and forced your arms to open

“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Were you?”

You nodded to scared of his reactions to your horny attitudes

“I thought you were virgin and said you were inexperienced in everything”

“It can’t be that hard” You whispered and looked at his eyes. Those pleading eyes that were begging to go back in time but were just reassuring Eddie that the shower would not ‘turn it off’ anymore.

“What if i said i wanted you to do it, huh? Would that be to weird?”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. Now he was asking you to do it. Was it to weird? Maybe a little, but only because you never did it before and because it was your best friend.

“I don’t know Eddie… I think you just as crazy as me” He laughed at that

“I might be a little. But it’s a good thing” You were feeling more comfortable now. It was your Eddie again and not some guy you had a crush on. “I know what you’re thinking. But, don’t you think i never wondered how would it be to kiss you? You are the most amazing friend i could have and with that comes this feeling too. But i don’t want to lose you. You’re to important for me”

“You too. Honestly i’d be lost without you. But i also wonder how would it be, you know…”

You kept looking at him and he did the same. You were making sure that it was the right thing to do. The he closed the gap between you two. Bodies bonding and connecting to each other. Your lips were so soft. Eddie was sure he was in his dream now. His hands that before was holding your face, now went to your back, caressing your waist. And your hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, tugging some locks of it and making him groan.

Things heated up and he pulled you to his lap. His bulge was now touching your crotch. With his hands on your waist, he took advantage of that and encouraged you to move back and forth making you feel so good. The friction was perfect. His lips were perfect. The way he was kissing you like he waited his whole life for it. Separating to breathe, you leaned on him, your foreheads touching, but your movements continued slightly.

“For a very inexperienced girl, you’re a hell of a kisser. Damn, are you sure you’re telling the truth?” He said panting with his eyes closed and his lips curled to a smile. You smiled back

“Yeah, i assure you. Don’t make me feel like i’m too good though. I’m gonna get too cocky.”

“Tell that to him” He pressed you down on him and, once again, you felt his hard dick. ‘How can it be so hard?’ you thought

“Can i take of your pants?” you asked a little scared

“Sure thing, sweetheart” He was smiley. He helped you to take it off and wow. You were a little shocked. It was big. You thought about it for a second and you honestly thought he was not average.

“Can i say something too?” He nodded while he pulled you back to him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but i just wanted to tell you so you don’t have any expectations. I don’t even know if you have any-” You were talking super fast, Eddie had to shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry. I was saying that, i think i still need some time, you know, if you want to have actual sex.”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here”

“But i really wanted to do this. To help you here.” You said running your hand from his chest to his lower belly and his cock twitched. You wasn’t expecting that to happen “Is this normal” He nodded and giggled

“Are you sure you want to do it? You know, i’m not proud to say it, but have jerked off before. Plenty of times actually. If you’re not comfortable doing it, it’s not a problem for me to do it by myself.” It was melting your heart in the way he was talking to you. Caring about you.

“Yes i am! I’m just… insecure about it. I don’t know how to-.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how, alright?” It was you time to nod you head. “A’right then. First thing, we need it to be wet, so you’ll have to spit on you hand.”

You hesitated but gathered a good amount of saliva on your mouth and spited on your hand.

“That’s right. Very good. Now you can wrap your hand around it” You just didn’t know where to. Was he talking about the tip or the base. You went for the tip.

Groaning low, he cleared his throat “Good girl. Now you can just make some circles around the tip and then go down.” You did what you were told to and that seemed to work. Your foreheads, that were glued to this time, separated a little before he came back. Both of you looking at your hand moving around his red tip leaking pre cum.

“Is that normal?”

“It means it’s fucking good” Even his voice changed. It was getting rougher and lower.

“Can you guide me a little. I’m scared i’ll squeeze you too hard” you said and his hand wrapped around yours.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s better when is tight. I’ll let you know if it’s to much” He let you do it by yourself when you got the right rhythm and grip.

Your hand were moving tightly up and down. You didn’t know if it was there before, you didn’t notice because you were to focus, but his hands were squeezing your tights hard. You could feel your panties getting soaked. How come you were excited by jerking him off.

More of the liquid you saw before came out and you ran your thumb over it. He let out a moan that rambled inside you body.

“Can you, please, go a little faster than that” And that’s what you did. The moan you heard was the first of many others that came along. You had gathered, again, more saliva and thought that it would be nice to be even wetter than it was. So you separated a little from him, looking at his confused eyes trying to read you. You separated enough to bend down and to spit on it again, looking at his eyes roll back, throwing his head back. You came back to your position, proud that you did something good without him telling you.

Your movements got faster than before and he, restless panting, kissed you. You wanted to make him cum hard. So you separated the kiss, kept up the speed, flashing him your boobs. That was the final push for Eddie.

The way he grabbed you and moan at your ear was insanely hot. You watched ropes of cum come of his dick. Your hand were now with white and sticky cum.

“Holy fucking shit!” He panted for the last time and let go of his grip on you. “Are you really sure you’re inexperienced?”

“I might’ve heard some advice about it from some friends” You said getting out of his lap, but he stopped you

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been up here for a while, i don’t want to hurt your legs. Besides, my hand is a little dirty.” He laughed a little

“Let’s clean up and come back here then.”

That’s what you did. When you came back, he pulled you to his chest and you started to talk.

“You know, i got hard because i had a wet dream about you. Probably because of the movie. But you were in a bikini like hers and, well… you know the rest.”

“Really? What a perv.” You laughed together. You couldn’t be more happy to let this felling out of your chest. You didn’t know for how long you could keep that from him.

“What i mean is that, i really hope you don’t think that i’m doing this just because i was hard and you were there to help. I like you, not in a friend way and, if you let me, i would like to make you my girlfriend one day, if you want. For real. Take you out to dates, stay together doing whatever the shit we’ll want, give you things that i know you will love. This kinda shit.”

“If you want to, i would love to be your girlfriend. And all of the things you mentioned. Well… you know, you already do all of that. The sex is new though.”

He laughed and kissed you passionately

“Great. Now, you’ll get see how much fun we’re gonna have” You spent the rest of your valentine’s day like this. Laughing and kissing each other.

1K notes · View notes

eddiessluttywaist · 2 years ago

Text

as if

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie taunts reader daily, but… she kinda likes it? just never does anything about it. not until she has to tutor him, anyway.

pairing: bully!mean!perv!eddie munson x perv!fem reader

word count: 7,901 words

content/warnings: swearing, some angst at the beginning kinda, mention of death (barb), SMUT MDNI (y/n is 18), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, bully kink (?), dominating, arguing, breeding kink, hate sex, brief masturbation mentions, mocking, teasing, anxiety kinda, spitting, invasion of privacy (eddie goes through her things), eddie’s a dirty lil pantie stealer and sniffer, y/n is a c*m sl*t, bulge kink(?), dacryphilia, groping, choking, daddy kink if you squint real hard, mentions of virginity (y/n is not a virgin), pet names (doll face, princess), degradation (use of slut). i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i have to say tbh i don’t see eddie ever being a bully so this is technically like an au!eddie?…but also… uhhhh very hot. makes my brain wiggle with heat waves so here we are. hope you like it! <3

part two - part three

As if.

It’s a simple statement, really, and you meant no harm when you said it. It was just something to be said… that didn’t mean he didn’t hear it though.

That also didn’t mean it didn’t tick him off.

You were surprisingly pretty to be in the geek group, but in the cruel and tyrannical world of high school girls..? Alas, no amount of lip gloss or cute skirts could free you of the fact that you were smart. Not only smart, but a geek. A nerd—who was shy around most—and you got along with nearly all of the teachers because of how well-behaved and intelligent you were. And, on occasion—although you always tried your best to not come off this way—a bit of a know-it-all.

That was the final nail in your coffin, really. Correcting Carol Perkins in American History in front of everyone back in your freshman year. (Her sophomore year and already irritable about having to take a freshman course 2 years in a row). You meant well, but she had it out for you ever since. The tyrant, as it was, made it entirely impossible for you to make your way up the food chain.

So in your sophomore year of high school, back in Autumn of ‘83, you were among the peasants just like him—even as a senior (for the first time). He took a quiet interest in you. You were cute and soft-spoken. You were a sophomore, though, and the fact that you were 15 at the time made the 17 year old scrunch up his nose whenever he remembered. He could still look, though, right? There was no harm in that…

Nancy and Barb took notice of it all pretty quickly. The way that the senior would scan over your outfits everyday. The way that he might’ve smirked a little if you had to bend over to pick something up, simply staring at your behind rather than coming over to get your things for you. The pair would exchange glances that you were adorably unaware of, over his attention that you were also so endearingly oblivious to. One day, they finally burst over it in the hallway, and he overheard.

“I think a senior likes you.” Nancy teased, gripping her Geometry textbook to her chest.

“What?” You had let out a slight laugh, digging through you locker. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh my god, seriously?” Barb interjected. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart? Observant?”

You were all wide-eyed over that, pouty lips opening and then closing as you struggled to find your words before finally landing on a frustrated huff and a simple “Shut up.”

“He stares at you all the time.” Nancy pushed with a teasing smile.

“Like you can talk.” You teased, slamming your locker shut before resting your back against it. “Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is totally all over you.” You smirked at the way her face instantly heated up.

“I- He- It’s not like that.” She insisted, completely flustered. And while Barb agreed with you, she wasn’t interested in letting you direct the conversation elsewhere.

“Besides he’s just a Junior. The guy who likes you is a Senior.” Nancy tacked on.

“Like there’s really that big of a difference?” You raised a brow.

“There is.” Barb scoffs.

“Well then if it’s such a huge deal… can’t you just tell me who it is?”

“You seriously don’t know?” Barb questioned and the ginger-brunette pair tilted their heads while they looked at you with a sort of exasperated disbelief. You just gave them that wide eyed look again and shrugged your shoulders.

Barb broke first with a scoff and a bright smile. “Eddie Munson. He stares at you all the time.”

Eddie Munson. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he was still a Senior. He was still attractive to you, and could still make an underclassmen blush if he gave them any attention simply because he was older and a little dangerous. He just didn’t show any interest in any of the other younger students, just a little curiosity towards you.

“Eddie Munson?” You had laughed a little, which made him furrow his brows as he listened in just around the corner of the hall at his own locker. You were being dismissive out of nerves, not out of any sort of malicious intent, but that’s not how he took your tone. After all, he was a cynical man.

“As if.”

After that he was a bit bitter towards you. Then he was a little mean. And then he was just plain cruel. He was an asshole. He was a bully.

Since his interest being pointed out to you, you occasionally glanced over at him to see if he really was staring. But he either acted like you didn’t exist, or whenever his gaze did meet yours the corners of his lips turned down and his brow frowned with disgust before looking elsewhere.

When Barb went missing, you and Nancy were temporarily joined at the hip in your efforts to figure out what happened. Then one day Nancy went cold on you. Started making excuses and hardly speaking to you otherwise. You didn’t understand, finding yourself completely alone as you scattered “Missing Person” posters all over Hawkins.

You had no idea what happened with Barb at the time and still had no clue what happened with your friendship with Nance to this very day. Maybe the loss was too much. Maybe Nancy couldn’t handle the reminder of your perfect trio. She was always closer to Barb than you. Maybe Barb missing and then turning up dead made it too difficult for her to face you. Maybe she was all caught up in two guys being completely obsessed with her, which admittedly made you a little jealous.

Soon enough you seemed to be completely off one another’s radars. It made high school even lonelier for you. You eventually found some new friends in other corners of the “Smart Kids” lunch table, but it was never like it was with Nancy and Barb.

So by the time he started getting a little mean, there wasn’t really anyone to protect you. Your new friends were skittish around the metalhead. Nance and Barb would’ve stood up for you once, but that support system was obliterated back in ‘83.

So when he shoved past you in the halls later in your sophomore year, no one gave it any thought. When he was pulling your hair in your Junior year then acting all innocent when you turned around to confront him, still no one cared. Now in your Senior year—and him in his third—whenever you thought he couldn’t be worse, he proved you wrong and did so with a devilish grin.

He pulled your hair. He tripped you. He stood behind you in line at lunch and would flip up the back of your skirt. He smacked your books out of your hands. He openly mocked you while leaning back in his chair at lunch with that smug look on his face. He mimicked your contributions in class under his breath, knowing you’d hear him and trip over your words. He snuck filthy messages into your locker that made your face burn with embarrassment and disgust—disgust for him and for the way his perverted words made your thighs press together. He would speed up whenever you were walking or biking home just to scare the shit out of you. He would take any opportunity to shove you or throw things at you or press his body up against yours in a derisive and vulgar manner—especially in gym class. He would “playfully” hump you from behind and nearly knock you over whenever you bent over and there was no teacher paying attention. Or spank you. Or pinch your ass.

He was horrible. Disgusting. Obnoxious. Crude. Vile. He made you go home with tears in your eyes most days, but the worst part was how much you liked the attention. You hated yourself for it. You wished you were running to the nearest adult to tell them every last thing he did to you. You wished you were standing up to him and calling him a disgusting pig in front of everyone which surely would’ve pulled out some “Ooo”s and maybe even some of the Seniors that hated him would’ve joined in. Maybe even had your back, even if it was temporary.

But you didn’t because by now when he pulled your hair, you had to refrain from whimpering or moaning. When he tripped you, you thought of the things he could do to you now you were already on your hands and knees. When he flipped up your skirt you always gasped and shoved him away, secretly hoping he’d do it again—even starting to wear only your cutest pairs of panties to school. When he smacked your books out of your hands, you actually liked that it was him causing you to bend over or get on your knees to collect your things again. When he decided to mock you from over at his spot at lunch, you got butterflies from the way he said your name and the way his dimples sunk into his cheeks. When he mimicked you in class, you tripped over your words because his voice and tangible presence got you all flustered and hot. When you got to your locker, you secretly hoped to see the torn off corner of some notebook page flutter onto the floor with the most obscene words. When he sped up to scare you, you thought about screaming something so bold at him that he would screech to a halt and reverse before telling you to get in his van, now.

You liked when he threw things at you like balled up paper to your cheek in class or a basketball to your side in gym. You liked when he shoved you or pressed against you because in his attempts to intimidate you with his touch and his proximity, it made your knees weak. You liked how he pinched your ass or gave it a little smack when you bent over and your teacher wasn’t looking. And you loved when he would thrust up against you whenever you were bent over and there was no teacher around at all, because his bulge pressed up against you (even while he was laughing devilishly) made you ache.

He was so utterly horrible to you, and yet when you found yourself grinding on your hand at night on top of your pink, white and yellow quilt—you were thinking about him and how mean he was. You were thinking about how mean he would be as he fucked you. Taunting you and teasing you and mocking you. You spasmed around your fingers and choked down your cries at the thought of him bullying your cunt.

It was all a fantasy, though. He never interacted with you longer than a few seconds, and was always with him in control. If you walked up to him and told him you wanted him to fuck you like the bully he was, he probably would’ve died laughing right before your eyes and told everyone he knew about your embarrassing lust for the guy who made your life a living hell. But now you were being cornered into spending time with him, and being faced with a real-life scenario where you were together made your palms sweat.

“I know he’s a difficult young man, but if you tutor him I’ll figure something out with the principal. Some sort of extra credit maybe.”

“There’s no one else that could tutor him?” You choked out, nerves on edge. Ms. O’Donnell gave you a sympathetic smile and shook her head.

“All busy.”

Busy, my ass you wanted to huff out. They were probably all avoiding him like the plague. O’Donnell was desperate to get his grade up and get him out of the damn school, which you didn’t blame her for, but god… why you?

“Okay…” You relented, a sad twitch for a smile when she sighed in relief and thanked you incessantly.

“I’ve already spoken to him about needing a tutor, I’ll let him know the good news, okay?”

You nodded with a meek “okay,” and tried to go on with the rest of your day as if you weren’t wracked with fear, excitement, concern over your excitement. You were on edge all day, and nearly jumped out of you seat when you were called to the office over the speakers about 5 minutes to the end of your last class. You swallowed anxiously, collecting your things and trying to ignore the “ooo”s over you being summoned to the principal’s office—assuming you were in trouble.

You trudged towards your destination, pausing when you spotted him slack in one of the chairs by the front desk that he frequented more than anyone else. You considered running in the opposite direction and making up some lie to Ms. O’Donnell the next day, but then Mrs. White beamed at you after happening to glance away from her clunky typewriter.

“Miss Y/L/N! Come on in, dear.” She spoke cheerfully in a way that went through you sideways. Eddie’s eyes shot up to you, smirking around the fingernail he was chewing at and clearly considering spitting it at you if Mrs. White hadn’t been paying attention. You toyed with the ends of your sleeves anxiously, listening to Mrs. White discuss the details Ms. O’Donnell had ready. What topics to go over (which was just about everything). How many times per week she wanted you to tutor him (at least once/week). The only thing left out was when and where.

“Oh that’s up to you two, hon.” She chirped. “Just compare your schedules.”

“It’s not in school? With a teacher around?” You questioned anxiously, but she was oblivious to your worries.

“Nope, no need for supervision. We like to give the tutors space from the teachers while they work with others, we find that the students that need help take to that better.”

“Sure do.” Eddie spoke up, and you nearly flinched at how close he sounded. You glanced over and he must’ve just gotten out of the hard plastic chair cause he was slightly leaned back to give his body a stretch causing his chest to puff out a little, his hands moving to rest by his hips as he tugged his jeans up.

“What? Scared of me ‘r somethin’?” He whispered playfully, a hand moving up to rest over his heart as he feigned offense before his act melted away to show his usual smirk. He winked at you, and you swallowed nervously as you looked back at Mrs. White again who was blissfully unaware of his malevolence.

“So here you go… those worksheets and… a time sheet.” The woman grinned as she placed the last paper on top before sliding everything over. “You just have to add the dates that you study together, and you both have to sign each time. Ms. O’Donnell said writing a quick synopsis of what you went over would be nice too, but not necessary. The most important thing is seeing a difference in Mr. Munson’s grades.”

“Sounds good to me, Pam.” Eddie smiled at Mrs. White whose sunny demeanor sunk into a more serious expression while you put the papers away neatly in one of your folders.

“What have we talked about, Mr. Munson? Use my first name again and you’ll find your butt in detention this Saturday for such disrespect. Again.”

He puts his hands up as if apologizing for his actions, but he was still grinning ear to ear. Mrs. White eyed him with a tight lipped scowl, then looked at you.

“Good luck.”

You were gonna need it.

The ride to your house in his rusty van was surprisingly quiet beyond his music. You were on edge which he enjoyed like always, but he was clearly saving the torment for when he was inside your home. You wished your parents were home, even if they were tucked away in another room, but they were both gone for the weekend to attend your Aunt’s wedding. Not that you’d let him know that.

“We’ll be studying in the dining room. And no funny business. My dad’s in his office and he doesn’t like being disturbed while he’s working.” You lied seamlessly, making your way over to the dining table, Eddie lazily sauntering along.

“Oo does daddy have a temper?” He teased in a whisper. “Gonna come out and spank you if you bother him too much?”

He gave you a mocking pout and your face scrunched up with irritation.

“Just sit so we can get this over with.”

“I’m sorry are you under the false impression that you’re in charge here, doll face?” He questioned, keeping his anger mostly disguised by his inquisitive tone.

“Well, I’m the tutor so-“ You scoff out, avoiding looking at him as you pulled all of your study materials from your bag.

“Yeah and that means something to me because…?” He drew out his last word as he spun on his heels and casually walked away.

“I- what-“ You sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“You know it’s awfully rude to have a guest and not give them a tour of the place.” He spoke casually, grabbing the ends of picture frames hanging on the walls to get a better look at them before letting them drop back again. You were hot on his heels, fixing every frame he left crooked. He paused at a picture of you from camp in a bikini with some of the friends you made that summer, smug and sucking at his teeth a little as he eyed the image of you.

“Real cute…still got it?” He looked over at you, his hair shifting over his shoulder as he eyed you. “Wanna model it for me? Make all this worth my while?”

Your cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“We have to study.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, and looks over to spot the staircase behind him. He slunk around the corner and made his way up the carpeted steps.

“Hey- hey! You’re not allowed up there!” You shout after him, rushing to follow after him. He was already on the second floor when he turned and shushed you.

“Don’t wanna make daddy angry, right? He’s hard at work if I’m remembering correctly.” He whispered with a joking concern for your father’s focus who wasn’t even here, and you worried he knew that. He continued on along the hallway and you stayed behind him, wishing there was something you could do to get him to stop. He opened doors along the way, inspecting the interior with a mild curiosity. The upstairs bathroom. Your parent’s room. The spare bedroom. Then-

“Ah, here we are.” Your bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Please get out of my room.” You pleaded, but he continued on his quest. He looked at the makeup on your vanity, toppling some of the products over like a careless cat before moving on. He toyed with any photos in your room, sniffed at the perfume bottles on your dresser.

“Eddie-“ You started, clenching your jaw as he found the perfume you wore the most often and sprayed some of it on the crotch of his jeans. Then he just kept a hold on it as he waltzed around your room, spraying it several times just to waste your favorite product.

“That’s rude.” You spoke up, your lips pouting slightly. He snickered at your comment, how you sounded like a wronged child.

“Aw well if you need to touch up your perfume at all, you know where to get it.” He grinned, pointing to his groin before continuing to go through your things. The concept was strange but still made you clench simply from the thought of having to rub at his bulge to get something you wanted. He didn’t waste that much of your fragrance, but the idea was still burning in your mind.

He muttered disapproving comments at the posters on your walls and the cassettes he rummaged through until he got bored. You were nervous about interfering even as he invaded your privacy, until he was opening your top drawer to go through your panties and bras.

“Hey! That’s too far!” You gasp, rushing over to slam the drawer closed again. He shoved you back and opened it again.

“Quit being so fucking uptight.”

“Quit going through things that don’t belong to you!” You talked back which was still surprising him every time you did, but certainly didn’t let it show.

“Yeah well quit pissing me off before I put you in your fucking place.” He seethes, giving you an angry warning look that felt like fire all over you. You wanted to cry, to tell him to stop being so mean to you, but it would be useless. You’d just end up feeling pathetic as he laughed over your misery. You just had to stand there and watch as he kept going through your underwear drawer.

“Ooh, cute. I don’t think I’ve seen these yet.” He clicked his tongue and blew out an impressed breath as he held up a black lacy number. “‘d love to leave some stains on these for you, doll face.”

“You’re disgusting.” You blurt out, but the thought of his cum spurting onto your new pair of panties made you feel warm. He smirked at your frustration, tucking the underwear into his pocket.

“Those are new!”

He shrugs, shoving the drawer closed again with enough careless force to knock over a picture frame perched on top. He doesn’t seem to care until he’s spinning around with his finger pointed at you and that wicked look on his face.

“You know what, though? You bring up a great point.” He tugs the lace from his pocket and holds it up to his nose before letting out a disappointed sigh. “Now that’s a problem. Still smell like whatever cutesy store you got ‘em from.”

You have a moment of hope that he’s trying to be nice and provide an opportunity to give them back to you, even if he’s going about it in a dirty way. But that doesn’t last long, even when he’s tossing them back to you.

“Why don’t you put ‘m on for me, huh? Then when you give ‘em to me on my way out I’ll have proof of how fucking wet I get you.” He spoke so smoothly as he got closer to you, that it almost blanketed the filth of his words as something soft or even sweet.

“As if.” You scoff out in a huff, and there’s a fury to his gaze that you don’t understand.

“Yeah… as if.” He murmurs darkly, getting closer to you. You swallow nervously and take a step back. “Cause fuck me, right? I’m just some good-for-nothing asshole who you wouldn’t give the time of day. Not a priss like you.”

“I-I’m not a-“

“Oh dad!” He’s suddenly shouting at the top of his lungs in a sing-song manner, his body whipped around to face your doorway, and your eyes go wide.

“Stop-“

“Hey! I just wanna meet Mr. Y/L/N! Spending time with your lovely daughter!” He spoke with a passionate respect that you knew was coming from a hateful place. He had gone to your doorframe and was listening for any kind of response. A verbal acknowledgement. The sound of steps or creaking floorboards to tell him there was actually going to be someone to confront him.

His grin became devious as he went to the steps again. “Hello?” He calls, dragging out that last vowel.

“Will you quit it!” You hiss, tears prickling at your eyes now at the thought of him realizing you were all alone. Just you and him. And that you had lied to him.

He was turning around, sure now that the only people in this house were you and him. His dimples were pushing into his cheeks again as he sucked at his teeth, approaching you at the doorway to your bedroom like a cocky killer. The kind that you saw in horror movies that knew they had their prey cornered and could have some fun with it.

Out of nerves and a need to keep a barrier between the two of you, you took a quick step back and went to slam your door shut so you could lock it, but he got there in time to stop in with an outstretched arm. He pushed it open so harshly that you were sure there would be a dent in your wall where the doorknob was forced into it.

God, you couldn’t stand the way he looked right now. So proud. So smug. That shit-eating grin that told you he knew he was winning. That fury from before still lingering. He noticed the gloss to your eyes and tuts as a mocking pout reaches his lips.

“Upset about somethin’, doll? Someone got you all worked up?”

You huff out your nose, your lips screwed into a frown and your eyes still stinging with unshed tears.

“You’re so… so… mean! I hate you!” You shout, and without even realizing it you had stomped your foot at your last statement. It makes him pause, his expression unreadable for a moment as he considers everything until it all lands on amusement. He crosses his arms over his chest, grin wild and his hair flowing with him as he tilts his head with intrigue.

“Did you just stomp your foot at me, princess?” He teases, and your face feels so hot you wonder if he can see the flush of pink even through your foundation. He can. You refuse to answer him, fighting back the urge to fully cry in front of him. He’s getting closer though until he’s brushing up against you and looking down at you. God, he’s so warm.

“Aw… such a sensitive girl. Look at you.” He murmurs as he continues backing you two up until you’re pressed against the wall, one of those posters he disapproved of crinkling against your hair. He’s making fun of you like always but there’s a softness around the edges of his words. Blurred by a desire to do just about anything to you. He reaches his hand up to drag the pad of his thumb over your pouty lower lip before bringing his hand down to grasp you by your chin.

“Bet your pussy’s just as responsive as the rest of ya, huh?” He whispers as he makes you look up at him. Your nostrils flare momentarily and you keep looking up at him but you still won’t speak and you still won’t let those tears fall.

“I bet your cunt is just as weepy. All hot and wet when I’m fucking you into shape.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to refrain from whimpering or letting your lips part for a soft sigh. Anything that would confirm how badly you want him to figure out just how right he is. But then his anger flares back up as he’s gripping your jaw now, squeezing just enough to make it uncomfortable.

“Speak when you’re spoken to.” He demands in a low voice with a sort of growl to it that makes your knees weak. You part your lips as you consider answering him like you’re told, and he raises his brows while waiting. Then, in a brazen defiance, you spit in his face instead.

He’s so solid it’s almost like he doesn’t care. Not a flinch or a crack in his demeanor. Then he’s moving his hand from your jaw to your throat and gripping onto it enough that you gasp.

“I’ve been spat on my whole fucking life, you think that’s gonna make a difference here, princess? Think that’s gonna make me respect you? Think you’re brave?”

Your hands reach up to rest over his on your neck, a mewl vibrating from the back of your throat. He leans in closer to your face, your lips parting wider as he tightens his grip.

“It just makes me think you’re stupid.” He finishes before spitting directly into your open mouth. He’s releasing you from his grip right after, wiping your saliva from his cheek while you catch your breath. A soft moan escapes you before you can keep it at bay and his inflated ego is tangible. He’s eyeing you with a sort of amazed intrigue that pulls him back to you, his arms lifting to place his hands on the wall on either side of your head.

“You like it, don’t you?” He laughs and you shake your head furiously, but he isn’t buying it. “You could’ve gotten my ass suspended—hell, even expelled—ages ago. And yet…?”

“I just felt bad that you’re such a fucking idiot.“

“Dirty girl.” He hisses inward through his teeth as if burned by your words, but you were just egging him on.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He wondered in a soft tone, hand back to your jaw as you stayed quiet. “Will you kiss daddy with that mouth?” He added with a lazy grin, exuding dominance and arrogance.

You became a little slack jawed at the implication, and he was on you. Hand still on your jaw, he pressed his lips to yours. You feigned protest at first with a few kicks and smacks, but then he had your wrists pinned against the wall and you sunk into the kiss. He kept you pinned for a few moments, until he was sure you were relaxed. He dropped his hands down to completely engulf your waist in his arms, and keep you pressed against him. The kiss was filthy with anger-fueled lust and slips of moans on your end and grunts from his.

“I hate you.” You whispered in between kisses, his hands moving to grip your ass now.

“Yeah you do.” He chuckled proudly against your lips before beginning to trail his lips down your jaw to your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed, hands settled on his muscular back as he sucked and bit at your neck, messy hair tickling you. More sounds slipped from you with no attempt to hold them back, a teary whimper hanging on your lips after he bit down on your neck hard enough to pull a yelp from you.

“Gonna mark you all up…” He muttered against your skin, making your head swirl.

“Gonna have you walking into school and have everyone know who you belong to.” He pulled back now, breathless and his full lips all pink with attention. His eyes were dark with lust, and it all made you whimper. The sound made him laugh in disbelief.

“Yeah? Such a slut. Bet you can’t wait to walk in with my hickeys all over you. Might even fuck you in the back of my van beforehand. Make you go to class full of my cum.”

You almost can’t believe him or yourself as you nod your head dumbly with a desperate pout. He groans at the sight and pulls you to him again, his lips back on yours as his hands reach down to hook under your thighs and lift you up. You’re quick to wrap your legs around his waist, a soft cry escaping when he starts grinding against you. He’s so hard and feels so pressed into his jeans, you’re both afraid and alight at the thought of just how big he probably is.

Eddie made his way over towards your bed until his legs made contact with your bed frame. He pulled away from the kiss to drop you on the bed carelessly. You lifted your torso up by digging your elbows back into your mattress, legs bent up at the knee and parted for him while you watched him undo his belt. He noticed you staring, and his gaze traveled along your form. Your knit sweater. Your pleated skirt.

“Take that shit off.” He said with a slight jut of his chin in the direction of your top, hands paused at the waist of his jeans and boxers. You hesitated at first, mostly at his hesitation to pull down his bottoms, but also out of nerves that your body wouldn’t be good enough. He made fun of you for just about everything. Surely he would tease you for that too.

“Did I fucking stutter?” His voice rose just a touch, his expression showing his impatience. At that your eyes went a bit wide again, and you lifted your sweater over your head and then the t-shirt you had on underneath. His hand was under his undone jeans, palming himself through his boxers as he looked over your naked torso.

“Bra too.” He murmured, and your nerves subsided from the way he looked at you. It was all hunger and lust and some impatience, but that was common. But no mockery. He wasn’t gearing up to make fun of your body cause he’s been waiting to see it. It was even better than he imagined, and he stopped a groan in his throat when you unclasped your bra and put it off to the side.

“Fuck…” He sighed out, squeezing his hard cock in his fist. You arched your back, which he initially enjoyed, until he realized your hand was moving to unzip the back of your skirt.

“Hey.” His harsh tone broke through, his free hand slapping your thigh. “Did I say take the skirt off?”

Your lips parted, and he jerked his head forward with a wide, frustrated gaze. It was as if he was saying “Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

He rolled his eyes as you shook your head no, and moved your hands away. He muttered under his breath and settled himself between your legs before deciding you weren’t close enough. His hands grasped your thighs to pull you closer, a surprised giggle bubbling in your chest from the action. He didn’t acknowledge it because he was trying to not let it show that it made him want to smirk. Just like when you get all teary-eyed. Or stomp your feet. Or finally get enough nerve to talk back. Even getting a giggle out of you made him smug, despite the fact that he had only ever seemed to enjoy making you miserable.

Eddie flips your skirt up onto your stomach, licking his lips at the sight of the light blue cotton panties he had already seen in the lunch line today. He finally tugged his jeans and boxers down below his balls, and started pumping his dick in his hand. Your nerves lit up at the sight of it—thick and with a bit of a curve to it. You wanted to see more of him, but the likelihood of that was slim to none. He enjoyed the control he had in this relationship, and that meant he liked having you almost completely naked in front of him while he was practically still dressed. He smirked as pre-cum beaded up on his tip and let it drip onto the fabric of your underwear. He dipped down to drag his tip along your covered slit to make a mess of your panties with his pre-cum. You inhaled sharply at the feeling, biting the inside of your lip whenever he nudged your clit.

“I like these panties…” You complained, knowing how much better it would be for him to ruin a pair of underwear you love.

“Aw…” He tutted, leaning over you as he mimicked the pout on your lips. “Don’t tell me that cause then I might have to cum all over them. ‘N I thought you wanted it inside.”

You mewled again, nodding your head which he mimicked too. The little shake of your head, the sound you made.

“Such a whiny, needy girl.” He said as if he cared. He hooked a finger under your panties and tugged at them, fighting the fabric over your legs one handed before holding them up to his nose. His eyes were trained on the sight of your sopping pussy as he breathed in, his cock twitching in his fist. He cursed under his breath, only pulling the fisted cloth away to stuff into his back pocket. His now free hand moved forward to drag his fingers through your slit, proud to feel how soaked and puffy you were already.

“You a virgin, doll?” He purred, tilting his head with a sickeningly sweet grin, the curled corners of his lips devilish. It was saccharine and mean. He figured you’d say yes because no one at school seemed to want you, but then you shook your head.

You lost your virginity at that summer camp you were at in the picture he was ogling earlier. It was awkward and felt strange, and you didn’t have much experience beyond that, but you weren’t a virgin. You thought he’d like you better this way anyways, already ready for him to fuck, but it ticked him off.

“No?” He asked, pushing two thick fingers into your cunt and making you gasp. The pressure on that sweet spot right at your entrance was buzzing with pleasure, but it still ached a little. “Guess you’re the little slut I always thought you were, hm?”

He was pushing his fingers in deep and curling them up into that spongy spot that made you whine and your thighs tremble.

“Who is he?” Eddie urged, his expression back to the irritation you were familiar with. You weren’t answering, all of your focus on his thick fingers and the rings that adorned them pinching the edge of your entrance.

“Who. Is. He?” He repeated, moving his face a bit closer to yours in bursts with every word, his head tilting to the left then to the right then back to the left to punctuate his words. He was slowing it down for you like you were dumb, and his fingers stopped moving—all of this making you huff.

“No one-“ You whine hopelessly, and he was starting to pull his hand away but you shot yours out to grip his wrist and keep his fingers deep between your legs. “No one, no one important.” You continued. “It was at summer camp, he’s not even from here. Please-“ you nearly sobbed, and it was enough to make the man groan as he leaned over you.

“Oh… please what, doll face?” He murmured, hand that had just been wrapped around his dick sinking the mattress down beside your head.

“Please- please don’t stop.” You whimper softly and he smiles sweetly down at you while pulling his hand away anyways. It was just for a second, enough to make you want to cry, but then he was plunging them back into your fluttering hole again. He added a third finger, barely giving you even enough time to enjoy the first two, the stretch making your lips part a little.

“God, you’re desperate.” He snorted, his hand angling a bit differently to let his thumb catch your clit. He watched with pride as your head tilted back and your back arched. Your thighs kept twitching and your walls were clamping down around his fingers more and more—he could tell you were close.

“Eddie…” You drawled, breath catching as your body braced itself for the mind-altering pleasure of your orgasm, but just as you approached the top—he pulled his hand away. You let out a distressed cry that made him laugh. He cooed at you, his hand that had been pumping his cock moving to rest on your cheek. Knowing where it had been made it even better, made it filthier. It made you wonder how many times he had just touched his dick before touching you.

“That’s for letting some random loser fuck you.” He whispered after leaning down so close that his nose was occasionally brushing against yours.

“‘m sorry…” You whine, tears of pleasure and pain having already slid down from your eyes and back towards your ears—leaving your hair damp and cold.

“You’re sorry, what?” He urged, nudging his tip against your folds.

“I’m sorry I let someone else take my virginity.” You were a blubbering mess, teary-eyed and needy.

“You’re gonna make up for it, though, right?” He purred, his tip already pressing into you and you nodded enthusiastically with a cry, your hips twitching forward.

“That’s my girl.”

Your lips parted, your lower lip quivering when he pushed into you until his hips were flush with your ass. You let out a sort of choked whimper and he groaned.

“Fuck you’re tight…” He sighed with content, sliding back before sinking back in until his tip was kissing your cervix. “Not even a virgin and I’m still gonna have to work to split this cunt open, huh?”

He was grinning again over that, over the grip your walls had on him from such a foreign stretch. It ached in the best way possible except for the occasional thrust that pinched and made you yelp out a small “ow.”

“S-so big… you’re so big…” You babble, your mind fuzzy. Your pupils were all blown out and you watched him fuck into you like it was the best dream you ever had. You eventually tilt your head back, letting out a happy hum as your hips push outward to feel him as deeply and as harshly as possible. He mimicked the sounds you made and the expressions you made from his thick cock hitting all the right places and stretching you enough that you knew you were going to be sore. All day tomorrow you were going to get brief pangs of aching that would remind you of how full you were of Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. He was all you could focus on, and you didn’t even realize you had been whimpering his name over and over under your breath until he made fun of you for it.

“Fuck you.” You huffed defensively, only for his amusement to bolster.

“Ha!” He cackled right in your face as you looked up at him with glossy eyes, pink cheeks and pouty lips. “Already are, sweetheart.”

Soon enough your sounds annoyed him though, especially the more demanding they got. Harder. Faster. Slower. More. Please. So he flipped you over onto your stomach and had his hand on your head to press your cheek into the mattress as he mounted you again—all with a casual “God, just shut up.”

At this new angle he was driving into you with a force that reverberated throughout your whole body every time he slammed into your cervix or that gushy part of you. You felt dizzy and breathless, every stroke of his cock against your ridged walls shooting off sparks. After being so close just from his hand to now, you were steadily approaching an orgasm again—just praying he’d let you keep it this time. He must’ve noticed because his free hand was reaching down to rub your clit. Your eyelids fluttered, a sob being muffled by the comforter you were biting down on. The sound of skin smacking, the tired springs of your bed squeaking, Eddie’s panting and grunting, the chain of his wallet clinking every now and then, the wet and pornographic sound of his cock plunging in and out of your pussy—it all seemed so loud for a second and then felt muffled the next as you came undone around him. You moaned out his name, whimpering cries on the tail end. You could feel your walls fluttering around him, clamping down and then blossoming back open then clamping down again in a mind-swirling rhythm.

“That’s a good girl…” He purred in a way that might’ve been too sweet from him if it wasn’t laced with a condescending tone. “Gonna cum in you, ‘kay?”

“Uh-huh-“ You moan, body aching as he picks up the pace again, fingers tangled in your hair with a painful grip. You can’t see him, but his head is tilted back completely blissed out as he fucks into you. You felt amazing, even better than he imagined which was pretty damn astonishing considering the pedestal he already had your pussy on in his imagination. He was so close, and a brief thought of getting you pregnant nearly sent him over the edge. He was mean. So fucking mean. That was the most devious thing he could do. Fill you up and make you all round with his kid.

“Shit-“ He pants out. “Gonna fill you up, babe.”

“Please-“ You beg, pulling an incredulous chuckle from him.

“Such a good girl… always take everything I give her.” He breathes out, leaning down to trap your body between him and your bed, his hand moving your hair away from your face. “Takes everything I give her at school, and she’s gonna take everything I give her in her bed, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, please-“ You sob, gasping out with the next few sharp thrusts against you until there was this warm feeling blooming inside you as he groaned against your back. He gave a few more thrusts after cumming inside, letting out happy puffs of air. You remembered how content that guy was when he unloaded into his condom inside you in camp. That blissful look on his face before he pecked your lips then lied next to you. Eddie didn’t bother with a condom, didn’t press a little peck to your lips and he wasn’t so quick to pull out either. When you squirmed a little he shifted so he was pushed up deeper into you, pulling a gasp from you which made him smirk against your skin.

Eventually he leaned up to bite your shoulder and then he slid out of you. You were still a little out of it, purring out a whiny hum as you nuzzled your quilt. Your legs were still spread and slightly bent up while you laid there on your stomach, and as he adjusted his softening dick back into his boxers he saw his cum slowly started to seep out of you and onto your comforter. Ever the gentleman, once his pants were zipped back up and his belt was buckled he landed his palm on your ass cheek and turned you over as you huffed over the action.

“See you Monday.”

“But we… we have to…” You fought to find your words through the haze. Study. You had to study.

“Bye, doll face!” He called out as he made his way downstairs.

You pouted a little, wanting to beg him to come back and stay with you. Maybe even go another round, but you were so spent that you just laid there.

When you got your energy back enough to force you to get up, you went to pee and clean yourself up before heading downstairs. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you made your way over to your backpack and you spotted the writing on the time sheet. A smile tugged at your lips. Instead of the date he wrote his phone number, and for the synopsis of today’s tutoring session he wrote “sex ed” with a winky face, and then signed where he was supposed to.

God, you were so fucked. And you were going to need a new time sheet.

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