#arriving to eddie month so late but i’m here now

[steddielations]

ao3 | hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, pre s4

"Hello? Ed, is that you? What's all that noise? What's goin' on?" 

"Wayne, can you come pick me up ... I’m at a party at the Harringtons’ house ... I don't wanna talk about it, man … Can you please just come get me? Please." 

Eddie hangs up the phone and swallows down the lump in his throat. 

He refuses to cry in Steve Harrington's kitchen.

Making his way through all the teenagers crowding this soulless house, he blinks the fog from his eyes. No tears are gonna take him back to half an hour ago, shooting the shit with his dad in the van, happily ignoring years worth of bloody hatchets and skeletons between them. 

While Eddie was desperate for it to be real this time, dear old dad hadn’t changed at all, taking off with Eddie’s van the second he came inside to scope out the party. Sorry to all the manicured girls of Loch Nora that pay pretty pennies for his shitty joints, but his stash is long gone, along with all the cash he made the last few days. 

It’s all in the wind with Al Munson like always.

The muggy air washes over Eddie when he steps outside, rubbing his eyes against the cool sting of wetness brimming in them. He’s not gonna cry in front of Steve Harrington’s pool either, even if he’s alone out here. 

It’s like a different dimension from the crowd inside, but everyone knows the pool is off limits, though no one seems to know why. Everyone just falls in line to the will of the king. Whatever, Eddie doesn’t give a shit he just needs a minute to breathe. He needs a damn cigarette, too, but of course, his smokes were in the van.

“Hey Munson, you sold out already or something?”

Eddie’s hands drop from his face, whipping around to where the voice came from. Caught off guard, embarrassment rises in his cheeks under the gaze of the man himself, Harrington. There’s an almost eerie blue glow casting off the water where he’s sitting poolside in a deck chair, strangely alone out here when he’s got a whole party inside.

Eddie clears his throat, trying to shield his vulnerability from a moment ago, “Nah man, all my shit was stolen.”

“That bites. Do you know who took it?” Harrington sounds oddly… concerned. “I bet it was that dickhead, Hargrove. I kicked him out like 10 minutes ago.”

“What’s it to you?” Eddie shoots back, instinctively distrustful, hackles raised like a cornered animal. He’s already taken a knife to the back tonight.

Harrington holds up a hand as if to ease him, like somehow in all his prim Polo-wearing properness, he’s used to handling wild things. “Just figured maybe I could help you get it back.”

“Why do you care?” Maybe Eddie’s being too defensive, it’s not like Harrington has ever given anyone hell like Hargrove or Hagan, but they’re all one in the same right? Or maybe Harrington really was ousted from the throne like the rumors in the hallways say. Eddie’s got more on his mind right now than the intricacies of Hawkins High pecking order. 

“Uh, because it’s my house and I don’t want some thief around? Jesus you’re prickly, dude.” With an eyeroll, Harrington waves him over to the empty chair next to him. “Here, just sit down and relax for a sec. We’ll see if we can figure it out.”

Eddie hesitates, feeling like it has to be some kind of trap, but there’s no one else around. Harrington’s never done more than stand by while his jock buddies do their damage to whoever or call Eddie a freak under his breath a couple times, but who hasn’t? Eddie encourages it, even. What would Harrington get out of pulling anything now when it’s not for show?

Honestly, Eddie’s just trying to rationalize it because he could really use the beer that’s also up for grabs, offered with an outstretched hand.

So Eddie stalks over to the empty chair, warily sitting down as if it might snap him inside like a snare. His nerves are all frazzled. Between his dad’s little stunt and now the king of the jocks (former king?) is handing Eddie an open beer that he’s taken a sip from himself, give him a break. Eddie mellows out a tad after a couple chugs.

“Do you have any clue who took it?” Harrington asks, way too much concern in the line between his brows than he should be able to fake for Eddie.

“No one here.”

Eddie sort of wishes it was that simple. A stranger would only hurt his pockets, instead of this bone-deep betrayal he should’ve seen coming. He doesn’t even care about the money, or his van, it’s deeper than that. It aches somewhere the booze can’t wash away. He squeezes the cool bottle in his grasp, blaming the contents for what he woefully admits next.

“It was my pops, man. He ran off with my van and everything in it.”

For some reason, it’s embarrassing to say. Either secondhand for his old man pulling something so low-down, or just his own pride for falling for it. He stares at the unnaturally still water in front of him, instead of meeting the gaze beside him.

He can feel Harrington taking in it, questioning it. Maybe he’s wondering how a father could screw over his own son like that, or maybe he’s thinking everyone knows that’s exactly what Al Munson would do, and Eddie— especially Eddie, should’ve known that.

Even Jeff warned him this time too, having been there since the days that Al would bring Eddie a new bike when he won big at the casino, then steal it back the next week to sell when he lost. Seems like Eddie was the only idiot willing to give his dad another chance, even blowing off band practice the last couple days to spend time with him.

“Your van, huh?” Is what Harrington finally says, soft for some reason. “I could give you a ride home. Forest Hills, right?”

That’s… not what Eddie was expecting at all. Just picturing that hotrod that’s all the rage in the school parking lot kicking up gravel in the trailer park rubs him wrong. It’s all off-beat, Eddie feels so far off his center that he’s normally so sure of. All he can do is push back to try and find it again.

“What, you’re gonna ditch your party to slum it on the wrong side of Hawkins with me? Don’t worry about it, I called my uncle.”

Looking over, he sees how Harrington almost looks disappointed by that.

“Yeah okay, but I don’t really care about this party,” he says, not even trying to pass it off in a ‘cool’ way, he just seems put off by it, “Graduation’s coming up, y’know, it was Tommy’s idea. I should’ve said no, I don’t give a shit about it. Or Tommy.”

Again, not what Eddie was expecting. He feels a thud in his stomach at the mention of graduation, yet another failure under his belt. “Well I’m not graduating, so does it count as that kinda party if you’re out here with the super senior freak?” 

“Guess we’re just having a shitty dads party then,” Harrington tries for what Eddie assumes is a reassuring smile, because for whatever reason in this twisted reality, Steve Harrington is trying to comfort him. 

Him, Eddie Munson.

But it ends up striking an already sensitive nerve.

“What do you even know about it?” Eddie scoffs.

Harrington’s smile drops, snapping back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A bitter laugh bubbles up in Eddie’s throat. He hates how it sounds as awful as he feels. Gesturing with the beer in his hand, he states the obvious, “Look around, dude.”

Maybe Harrington’s not as popular at school, but he’s still well off at home. A rich, two parent household that he’s never had to worry about scrounging to keep the lights on. The only business he’ll ever have to do is for his Daddy’s fucking letterhead. Eddie will accept his pity to the extent of a free beer, but he won’t sit there and listen to Harrington pretending to know what it’s like for him.

“Yeah, look around,” Harrington retorts, an even more bitter curl on his lip than Eddie’s. “Got everything except parents, don’t I? Like if they buy me enough shit, I won’t notice they’re hardly here.”

The look in his eyes is a little hurt but fierce, grating enough to cut through Eddie’s defenses. Wayne keeps telling him to stop jumping the gun and going off half-cocked. Yet here Eddie is again, assuming he’s got this guy all figured out.

When in reality, all he knows is that despite being the talk of the town, Harrington’s parents are rarely ever seen around. He lost his girl, doesn’t seem to have any real friends to show, and looks about as lonely at school as he does now— while he’s doing nothing but trying to help Eddie.

“I’m sorry, man,” Eddie relents, “You’re just going against everything I thought I knew about you right now. I’m trying to kick the habit of putting people in boxes with the whole anti-conformity thing. Been told I can be a real judgemental asshole.”

“Yeah I wonder why,” Harrington says lightly, his lips curling back into a smile that sort of makes Eddie want to hide his face. It doesn’t feel wrong somehow, like the rare times that a girl spared him a look, more like it shouldn’t be directed at him. Steve Harrington shouldn’t be smiling at him.

“And call me Steve, alright? If we’re gonna be in the shitty dads club together, we should be on a first name basis.”

That actually gets a laugh out of Eddie. Short and pained as it sounds, it’s real.

“Okay then, Steve,” he has to look away after he says it, feeling his chest cave under the weight of that smile for some reason. Must be the state he’s in. Steve made him forget for a second but he’s sinking again, staring out over the pool, trying and failing to see the bottom.

Read the rest on Ao3

for day one of @eddiemonth prompt “Parents”

[catherinnn]

I thought of this at work today and I couldn't stop laughing: Imagine Dustin having an older sister who's back from college. So when they need a sub for Hellfire, he asks her because she's the one that taught him how to play in the first place. As soon as she walks in Eddie's brain short-circuits because "Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl?!?!? I would've at least brushed my hair!"

Que Dustin not sure whether he should be disgusted because his sister keeps flirting with his DM all night or excited because there is now a very strong possibility Eddie could become his brother-in-law now.

Roll for Initiative eddie munson x henderson!reader warnings: nothing much really, just fluff overall. eddie self-doubts for just a second, no use of y/n, cursing. a/n: thank you so much for requesting! I really hope you like it. reblogs and comments are very very appreciated. 2.2k words masterlist

“So,” Mike starts talking, Dustin takes notice of his sarcastic tone. “Who the fuck do we know that secretly plays D&D and would want to sub for Lucas”

“Um, well…” but before Dustin can get a word out Mike interrupts him.

“I mean, we’re fucked! Eddie’s gonna hate us and kick us out of Hellfire!”

“Dude-“

“No Dustin, I’m serious! I’m gonna kill Lucas and all his stupid new friends”

“Mike! Do you remember what I told you earlier? About my sister?”

“Uh… no?” he confesses.

“Honestly! Do you ever listen to me?!” Dustin claims angrily. “What I told you is that she’s coming back home. And she used to play, dude!”

“Are you serious?” Mike exclaims, unable to believe their luck. He asks “When does she get here?”

--

Dustin's heart pounds with anticipation as he waits at the doorstep. It had been months since he last saw you, and he couldn't wait to catch up.

And as your mom’s car pulls into the driveway, Dustin cannot contain his excitement. He rushes to greet you, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his haste. You step out of the car, a weary smile on your face as you spot your little brother.

"Dustin!" you exclaim, opening your arms for a hug. "You've gotten even taller since I last saw you."

“You think so?” he asks with hope.

“Oh right? He’s turning into a whole handsome tall man already!” your mom butted into the conversation and you both cringe at her choice of words.

“Ugh, I missed you!” you hug him again and he laughs.

Once you’re inside the house, Dustin wastes no time in bombarding you with stories of his D&D campaigns. He told you about the epic battles and the incredible DM the club has. You make a mental note to tease Steve as soon as you see him since he’s no longer Dustin’s coolest older friend.

“That club sounds so fun!”

"Do you think... would you want to join our club as a sub?" he asks eagerly. "We're short one person since Lucas joined the dark side”

You frown in confusion and he explains. “He’s in the football team”

“Really?” you ask surprised.

“Yeah…” he sounds disappointed. “Anyway, would you help us? Please”

“You’re sure they won’t mind?”

“They would be so thankful if you help us beat Eddie’s ass”

“Okay, sure then” you agree laughing.

--

“Come on! We’re gonna be late!” Dustin shouts from the living room waiting impatiently for you.

“I’ve been ready for like ten minutes, you’re the one who’s taking so long” you answer calmly, not knowing what all the fuss is about.

Meanwhile in the drama room in Hawking’s High…

“Alright gentlemen, are we ready to start?” Eddie says as he walks in.

“Umm no, Dustin’s not here yet” Mike stops him.

“Well, where is he?”

“He’s probably arriving any time now”

“Wheeler, we don’t have all day-“ Eddie starts complaining but the door opening abruptly interrupts him. An agitated Dustin walks in and starts apologizing, but Eddie’s not listening to him.

The club leader still frozen mid-sentence, his brain seemingly short-circuiting as he laid eyes on you, standing by the door. He stumbled over his words, his thoughts are silent but screaming at the same time. Suddenly, the room seemed smaller, the air thicker, as if a spell had been cast upon him.

However, you’re still oblivious to the effect you had over him.

“Soo, who’s this?” Gareth finally asks after waiting for Eddie to ask that question, but he was not even moving.

“Oh, this is my sister” Dustin starts introducing you. Eddie’s trance is broken when he hears your name, the prettiest name he’s ever heard. “She’ll sub for Lucas”

“She will?” Eddie asks with a hint of hope in his voice. All of the sudden hoping Lucas won’t be able to join Hellfire ever again.

The rest of the boys are waiting expectantly for Eddie to ask you all types of question until he finds an unsatisfying enough answer and he’ll decide you can’t sub. But he never does. So Gareth starts asking if you even know how to play D&D.

“Sure she does, she was the one who taught me how to play in the first place” your brother steps in.

You tell the boys your level in the game and for some reason they all seem surprised. They start murmuring among each other. But you notice how the boy on the big throne leans over to your brother to whisper something. You play dumb and walk closer to them.

"Jesus H. Christ Henderson, why didn't you tell me your sister was my dream girl? I would've at least brushed my hair!" He whispers-shouts and a smile starts forming on your face.

You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t called your attention. His big puppy eyes, all the rings on his hand. You don’t know why he says that about his hair, you thought it looked really good like that.

At any rate, you take a seat next to your brother, which just so happens to also be next to Eddie. Happy coincidence. And you start playing, Eddie sets the scene. He makes you imagine every single little detail so you feel like you’re actually there. He makes different voices for each character which makes you giggle. He even stands up, or leans over on the table, he talks to every single one of you, not forgetting about anyone. It’s mesmerizing to see him like this.

“I love how passionate you get” you comment and it makes him smile so hard.

He noticed before, every time he would change the tone in his voice to imitate a character, you’d laugh, and now he keeps changing voices just to hear it again.

“Give me the gold! He says. Or I’ll set my hungry wolves free, right this second!” Eddie acts and without failing he’s able to hear your snorts. It distracts him in the best way possible. “You have an adorable laugh” he tells you with a smirk.

This obviously makes you giggle once more, this time with a pink blush decorating your cheeks. “Thanks, it’s just- you’re cute making all the voices”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to blush and smile once more.

Dustin notices this exchange —all of the other boys did— but he can’t decipher how he feels about it. On the one hand, he feels a little jealous and uncomfortable that you two keep flirting. But on the other hand, it would be really cool to have Eddie as his brother in law.

However, the game continues and so does the places Eddie takes you all to in your minds. So much so that at one point you start getting dizzy.

“Wait, where are we again?” you ask.

“In the mountains near the lake” Gareth answers.

“Are we close to the palace?”

“No no, the palace is behind the woods” Mike explains now. They have more of an advantage than you do, they've been playing this campaign for weeks now.

“Wh- Do you have a map?” You finally ask Eddie and he nods passing it to you.

“Here’s the palace” he comes closer and signals on the map, “and here is where you are”

“Oh, okay”

“You know, if you’re still lost I can stick around to guide you” he whispers giving the closeness.

“Well, you’re the bad guy here,” you argue imagining you’re still inside the game. “How do I know you won’t try to kill me?”

“Me?” he gasps acting offended. “I would never!”

“You already killed Jeff!” you accuse him.

“Yeah, but he’s not half as pretty as you are. I’d miss you too much” he makes sure he’s whispering very close to you now, just because if Jeff heard him he’d start acting offended. Just because of that… no other reason.

“Can we keep playing now? My mom will be here in like ten minutes to pick me up” Mike complains.

Those ten minutes fly by. Before you even realize it, Mike’s mom is honking in her car to hurry him up. And so you finish for the day, starting to gather all your things.

“You know, you owe me a pencil” you tell Eddie.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” he asks playfully.

“I only borrowed it to you! I did not gift it!”

“So you’re calling me a thief? First a killer and now a thief? Glad to know you think so badly of little old me”

“I didn't just called you that!” you say in you defence and he makes confused face, signalling you to continue talking. “I also said you’re cute. You’re a really cute thief and killer”

He starts laughing. “Are you always this charming, or is it just when I'm around?"

“I could ask you the same thing”

“Oh only with you, sweetheart” he promises.

“Me too” you admit a little shyly.

“Yeah?-” he tries to keep flirting but Dustin cuts him off.

“Are you ready? Let’s go”

“Wow, since when are you so eager to leave hellfire?” Eddie notices.

“No reason” he lies, he’s still not sure if all this flirting between you two would be something good or not.

“I think he’s a little jealous his sister is taking all of Eddie’s attention” Gareth teases him.

“No, I’m not!”

“Aw Dusty bun!” Eddie joins in the teasing.

“I’m not jealous! Ask her out for all I care!” he says but regrets it as soon as it left his mouth.

“Really?” Eddie checks in but Dustin is a very proud person, he’s not one to bend. So he nods encouraging his friend.

Good thing you know him like the palm of your hand.

“Let’s go dingus, mom’s probably waiting for us”

Eddie feels this as punch right on his chest. Did he read too much into this? Were you not actually interested? Was it just some playful flirting?

As you walk out the school and into the parking lot. You open the car so your brother can get in but tell him to wait a second, and you walk over to Eddie who was about to get in his van.

“Wait! Thief!” you call him and he turns around. “I think you should, you know… ask me out”

He feels the happiness creeping back into his body. “Yeah? I should?” his playful tone back in his voice. “Would you want to go out with a thief and a murderer?”

“If he’s as cute as you are, then I’d think about it” you make him laugh again.

“How about tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up at eight” he proposes.

“I’ll be ready”

“Good”

“Yeah, good” you walk closer to him. “See you tomorrow then” and before leaving, you give him a kiss on his cheek. Hiding your need to kiss him more after seeing his flushed face. You’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow.

Dustin sees you getting in the car with the biggest smile on your face. “Did you ask him out?”

“Um, yeah… listen-“

“It’s fine, really”

“No, listen. I know that maybe it’s a little uncomfortable to think of one of your best friends going out with me. But I promise I would never do anything to hurt him and make it weird between you two-“

“I know that, and I know he wouldn’t do that either” he interrupts you. “I’m just- I’m worried that I won’t be a priority to you or to him anymore”

“Dustin, are you kidding? You could not be more wrong about that!” you argue. “Imagine this date goes well, we’ll start hanging out at home and watch movies with you, we could go out to eat all together, go to the cinema, anything! You name it!”

And the more he thinks about it that way, the more he loves that idea.

So the next day, he helps you choose your outfit, he tells you which hairstyle will look better and then hurries you up when it’s 7:50 pm and you’re still putting mascara on.

“You look fine already! Amazing even! Grab your jacket cause he’ll be here any minute now!” and as soon as he says that, he recognizes that car outside with the loud metal music, seconds later he hears the door knocking.

“I’ll get it, mom!” he yells so his mother won’t embarrass you.

“No, you won’t. I will” you stop him before he can open the door. “Go back to your comic-book. I’ll be back in a few hours”

And he waits until you get back. 

When you finally do, he’s on the couch watching TV but mutes it as soon as he hears you.

“Hey” he notices the big smile on your face is on again. He also notices your lips are a little puffy and he cringes at that thought.  

“You can go to sleep happily now, the date went amazing” you explain. “God, I think I’m love with him!” you comment as you go up to your room.

“Already?” he judges a little.

But as you promised, the three of you hang out together most of the time. And as long as he looks away when you two kiss or ignores the fact that Eddie’s spending the night in your room after you all catch a movie and order some pizza. He’s really happy that you two found each other.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 2 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, difficulty conceiving, mention of pregnancy symptoms, lots of Eddie being a mush

WC: 1.5k

February 1999

You didn’t get pregnant that first month. Your period arrived unceremoniously, leaving in its wake blood-stained underpants and disappointment.

It didn’t happen in December or January, either, despite meticulous cycle tracking and Eddie barely keeping his hands off of you. Each negative test feels like a failure; you’ve stopped taking them when Eddie’s around because you can sense his disappointment, though he puts on a brave face to comfort you.

But now, you’re late. Only by two days–if you weren’t paying careful attention to the dates, you might not have noticed. You have to bite back a smile as you tear open the box, fingers trembling as you poorly contain your excitement. It might be nothing, just a period ironically delayed by stress of trying to conceive.

Or you might be pregnant.

You inhale, filling your lungs with air and holding it there for a while until you let it out in one strong breath. All you’re doing is peeing on a stick, but your body nervously buzzes with each passing second. You’ve likely taken a dozen of these by now, and there’s nothing that should make you think you’ll get a different result today.

With utmost care, you place the used test on the back of the sink and wash your hands. You keep pressing on the soap handle to the point where a small pool forms in your palm, but you can’t draw your gaze from the tiny result window. The control line begins forming quickly, as it always does. 

How long ago did Eddie leave to grab breakfast—maybe ten minutes? Sundays at Zeke’s Bagels are usually swamped, so you have plenty of time to wipe away your tears if that sacred second line never appears. 

“Mommy?”

A drowsy voice interrupts your inner monologue. Harris stands at the bathroom doorway, wiping the sleep from his big brown eyes and yawning. 

“What’s up, Har?” You hope your anxiety doesn’t bleed through, though you doubt he’s awake enough to recognize it. 

He squints as he adjusts to the light. “Where’s Daddy? Also, I’m hungry.”

A sigh of relief escapes you when you realize he’s too focused on breakfast to pay attention to anything else. “Daddy left to get us some bagels,” you explain, allowing your heart to slow to a normal rate. “Why don’t you go make your bed, and we can watch some cartoons while we wait for him, okay?”

Harris nods, barely picking up his sock-clad feet as he trudges back towards his bedroom. You giggle at the way he tries to fight his sleepiness, shaking your head in amusement. 

That’s when you see it, faint but still definitely present: the tell-tale second pink line.

“Oh my God.” Your hand flies to your mouth in complete shock, tears forming a film over your eyes so the results become blurred. You blink them away to get a better look, partially convinced that you’re hallucinating or projecting your hopes, and that reality will set in and show a negative result.

But when your vision clears, both lines are still visible.

You’re pregnant.

Now you just have to tell your husband; the question is, how?

You’re still mulling over the possibilities when the key clicks in the door ten minutes later. Eddie carries in a brown paper bag of bagels, whistling a tune that startles you from your thoughts. 

“Food’s here!” Eddie calls out; your stomach flip-flops at the sound of his voice. The temptation to let giddiness take over and wave the test in his face is strong, but you hold yourself back. First and foremost, you don’t want Harris knowing until you’re safely in the second trimester, but another part of you is still in denial that you truly are pregnant. That there’s a tiny little life growing within your womb, half you and half Eddie.

I’ll test again in a few days, you tell yourself, and if it’s still positive, then I���ll tell him.

You shove the test in the top drawer among your make-up and hair care products where it will be safe from your husband’s wandering eyes. Before you shut off the light, you get a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You look the same as you always do, but there’s no denying that you feel different.

Pregnant. You’re pregnant with Eddie’s baby. In approximately nine months, the Munsons will be a family of four.

“Mommy! Daddy’s home!”

“Coming!” You wipe away any remaining tears and make your way to the kitchen, trying to quell the excitement of knowing that you’re technically eating for two.

Breakfast drags a bit, both because of the weighty secret you’re guarding and the fact that cream cheese apparently now makes your nose wrinkle in disgust, but Harris’s animated storytelling makes the time pass a bit faster. Apparently, being seven years old is more dramatic than you’d remembered.

One particular story involving Harris, Joshua Harrington, and a celery-stick sword fight remains etched into your brain even as you brush bagel crumbs off of the table and into your cupped palm. Harris has plunked down in front of the television, gaze glued to a show about a conjoined cat and dog with screeches so grating that you find yourself wincing with each piece of dialogue. The distraction is enough to keep you from tuning into Eddie rummaging through the bathroom drawers, searching for the nail clippers.

“Um, babe?” His voice cracks on the second word, and you can sense both confusion and concern in his tone. “C-Can you come here? Now?”

Oh, shit. 

You dash into the bathroom, shrinking into yourself when you find him, one hand bracing his body weight on the sink and the other clutching a very positive pregnancy test. 

“Are…is this…” He turns to you, wide-eyed, lower lip quivering. “When…?”

“Right before breakfast,” you jump in, your pinky finger nudging his along the sink’s edge. “I wanted to do something special to surprise you after I took another one later this week, y’know, just to be sure.”

Eddie exhales a breath that’s half-laugh and half-cry, lowering the test to the ceramic ledge so he can place both hands on your cheeks. “You’re pregnant?” he asks, words thick with disbelief. He chuckles when you nod, head moving up and down between his calloused palms. “Holy shit; you’re having my baby.”

His mouth finds yours in an instant, fingers leaving your face and traveling to your waist. Eddie pulls you in close and punctuates the long kiss with several little pecks. 

“My gorgeous girl is having my baby,” Eddie murmurs, gently sinking to his knees so he’s eye-level with your stomach. It’s still far too early to be showing, but he still bunches up your shirt just above your belly button. You giggle when he presses his lips against your skin, an involuntary ticklish reaction. “I just…I’m so happy. I got kinda worried when it wasn’t happening, that something was wrong.” He looks up at you with an expression of relief and awe. “We’re having a baby, Sweetheart.” His thumb trails along your exposed flesh, the place where your child will develop over the next nine months.

You laugh, pulling him up so you can kiss him again. He tastes like the orange juice he’d drank with breakfast, sweet and tangy. “We should wait to tell people until a doctor confirms it,” you murmur as he rests his forehead on yours. “Let it just be our little secret for now, okay?”

Eddie nods, lips occupied with kisses that render him unable to speak for a minute. “I’m glad I found out when I did, to be honest,” he admits with a small smile. “I missed so much of this with Harris, and I wanna be part of everything with this little munchkin.” 

“Everything?” you ask suspiciously. “The morning sickness, the mood swings, the swollen feet? I’m pretty sure my mom got hemorrhoids when she was pregnant with me–”

“Everything,” Eddie affirms, lacing his fingers with yours. “The good, the bad, and the…hemorrhoid-y.”

You can’t hold back your amusement, throwing your head back with laughter. “I’m holding you to that.”

But you know you won’t need to, because this is Eddie, and the love he already has for this child radiates off of him.

He wraps you in a warm embrace, holding you around your shoulders so that his soft arm hair brushes the nape of your neck. He keeps you safe in his arms while you keep the baby safe in your womb.

In a little while, a commercial will interrupt Harris’s TV show. He’ll come running over to exclaim that he needs the toy being advertised, despite having a present-filled birthday just three weeks ago, and the Munson home will return to its definition of normalcy. For now, you and Eddie relish in this special moment, just the two of you and the tiny bean that is Baby Munson.

--

[louloulemons-posts]

Misunderstandings

Eddie Munson X Fem!HarringtonTwin!Reader

Summary : Eddie and Y/N have been dating in secret for months now, but what happens when Y/N can’t do it anymore?

word count : 2.6k

Warnings : Use of Y/N, angst, reader crying, couple drama, twin brother steve, supportive bestie robin, pet names, kisses, a few swears, happy ending.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Steve come on!” she shouted from the bottom of the stairs, “We’re gonna be late!”

“Alright Alright I’m coming,”

“Next time we’re taking two cars, how the hell do you make us late everytime. We still have to pick up Robs!” she sighed, pushing her brother out of the door.

“Well Robin needs to get a license!” he exclaimed getting into the passenger side of the car. “She can’t afford it, don’t be a douche.”

“Blah blah blah, can you just drive. C’mon you said we were gonna be late.”

Turning the keys, engine starting, “I will kick you out of this car and you can walk.”

“I have my own car!”

“Then use it!”

The remainder of the journey continued with the twins bickering between themselves, only halting when they arrived at Robins. Beeping the horn to let her now they were here.

“Okay get in the back,” Y/N said to her brother.

“What? Why?”

“Robins a guest, she gets front seat! She’s also my bestfriend so-”

“She was mine first!” he cut her off.

“No!”

“Yes we worked at Scoops together!”

“And what? She didn’t even like you until I said you weren’t ‘King Steve’ anymore. Now move it.”

“You’re so bossy! I think you should be the older twin,” he sighed, climbing out the car.

Robin ran out of the house, sliding her jacket on, chuckling as she saw Steve climbing into the back, grumbling as he did. “Hey Robs,” Y/N smiled at her friend as she climbed in. “What happened to 5pm?” she asked the pair.

“Well Steve decided to procrastinate until 4:30, knowing it takes him at least an hour to get ready,” she explained, pulling away from the house. Grumbling came from the back, “Steve I swear I wasn’t joking about kicking you out!”

Robin laughed at the twins, knowing it’d be an eventful journey to the movies.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“And this is why we tell them to be here 45 minutes before we actually need to be here,” Dustin explained as the trio walked through the door. “I’ll remember that next time you want picking up from Hellfire,” Steve smiled him.

“Also we’re not even the last ones here, where’s Munson?” Robin asked.

“Eddies coming?” Y/N whispered to her friend.

“Mhm, maybe it’s time to tell Steve?” she wiggled her eyebrows.

“I’m here I’m here!” a voice yelled as Eddie Munson practically fell through the door.

“Great can we go now!” Mike complained, yanking Els hand towards the door. “I’m just gonna get something to drink. Robs you want anything?”

“Cherry Pepsi please.” Y/N hummed at her friend, walking over to the line.

“Where’s my offer?” Steve called after her.

“What do you want?” she sighed.

“Dr Pepper!”

“You’re paying me back later then.”

“I’ll help her, I want to get some snacks so,” Eddie said to the group who went ahead into the theatre.

Waiting for the people in front of her to finish ordering, Y/N felt arms wrap around her waist and a face nuzzle into her neck. “Hey Princess,” Eddie smiled, kissing her neck.

“Hey Eds.” Turning to kiss his cheek, “What do you want?” she asked.

“You.”

“Oh shush,” she wiggled in his hold.

“It’s true!” he exclaimed, which made her laugh. The people in front moved out the way and Y/N smiled at the worker. “Hey, can I please get a cherry pepsi, 2 Dr Peppers and … Eds?”

“I’ll order mine,” he smiled, which she nodded awkwardly at him. “That’s everything then please.” Paying for the drinks, she slid them across the counter, “Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll bring Steves,” Eddie said.

“Oh um yeah sure, I’ll see you in there.” Grabbing her and Robins drinks she passed her ticket over to the clerk, giving them a slight smile.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

She found Robin and Steve, walking up to their row she handed Robin her drink, “Munsons bringing yours.” He nodded facing the screen.

Sitting next to Robin she sighed, “You okay?”

“Oh yeah fine, fine.”

The curly haired metal head walked in soon after, just as the movie began to play. Handing Steve his drink he sat down next to Y/N. She smiled at him, which he reciprocated, but quickly turned to face the screen.

Normally Eddie was chatty and touchy with her, they were keeping their relationship quiet but they were friends too. What if he didn’t want that anymore? Oh my god.

“Are we okay?” she whispered to the boy.

“Uh yeah? Why?” he asked, putting popcorn into his mouth. “You just seem a little off, you know you can talk to me?” He nodded, about to reply before they were shushed by Henderson.

Y/N sighed, sipping her drink, trying to ignore the feeling in her stomach and focus on the movie. Clearly she wasn’t hiding her feelings well as robin squeezed her hand. She looked up at her friend who asked, “Bathroom? You want a breather?”

The girl nodded, almost trampling Eddie as she went, followed by her best friend.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Cold water wet her face and she stood in front of the mirror, “Are you okay?” Robin asked, rubbing her shoulder gently. “I think he might want to break up. I mean come on, he won’t even look at me.”

“Hey he’s just being stupid, it’s probably just cause Steve’s here.”

“Yeah but he’s the one who wants to hide it not me! What if he’s embarrassed of me, or he’s hiding it cause he wants it to be a fling.”

“Listen to me, anyone would be lucky to have you. If he can’t see that then it’s his loss, he’s an ass. You’ve got this okay.” Y/N nodded at her, “Thanks Robs.”

“You wanna go back in? We can swap seats,” she suggested. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all, it means you can deal with your brother instead.”

“Oh goodie, lucky me,” she groaned, making them both laugh.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Walking out of the movies, the two girls walked arm in arm. “It was so bad,” she laughed. “Wasn’t even scary!” Robin exclaimed.

“All you kiddies okay getting home?” Y/N asked the younger kids.

“My moms getting me, El, Mike and Lucas. Thank you though,” Will smiled.

“Max?” she asked the redhead.

“Eddie said I could ride with him.”

“Henderson?”

“Do you mind?” He asked.

“Nah kid, let’s go.”

As she was about to leave the theatre, she felt a hand on her wrist. “Hey, what happened in there? You okay?” Eddies familiar voice spoke.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

“Do you want to hang out tomorrow? Wayne’s working all day so, we’d have the place to ourselves,”he smiled, pulling her closer by her waist.

Wow, she really was just a booty call. “You know what Munson, I’m gonna have to pass. I’ll see you.” She said, pulling out of his hold and walking over to her car.

“What was that all about?” Robin asked.

“Nothing,” she shrugged, starting the car and driving towards Dustin and Robins homes.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Robin and Steve were both working, but Y/N had a day off, so she was relaxing by the pool. Deciding that she wanted to spend the day by herself. Sliding into the water, she swam underneath, allowing herself to sink slightly.

Robin was right, she deserved more than to be someone’s secret, she deserved to be shown off and taken out on dates. Not just hidden away, never meeting family, a good half foot between them when friends were around.

Needing to take a breath she swam back up. Jumping slightly when she saw the familiar boy dressed in denim. “I did knock but no answer, and your car was out front so,” he explained.

Pushing herself out of the poor she squeezed out her hair and wrapped a towel around herself. “Did you need something?”

“I thought you were busy today?”

“Never said that.”

“What’s going on?” He asked and she walked passed him. “You tell me.”

“What? Baby hang on a minute.”

“Don’t do that,” she sighed.

“Do what?”

“Call me that!” Y/N exclaimed, walking up the stairs and towards her bedroom.

“What I’m not allowed to call you that anymore?”

“No you’re not!”

“Well why not, you’re my girlfriend aren’t you?”

“I don’t know am I?”

“What?” Eddie shouted, “What are you talking about?”

“Well you seem to only want me as your girlfriend in private! And even then it’s like we’re fuck buddies!”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes it is! You won’t even look at me around other people.”

“That’s not true!” Eddie starting shouting back.

“Yes it is! If you’re embarrassed of me just say so!”

“I-I … Y/N,” he stuttered.

“You know what just go!” she yelled.

“What?”

“Get out! If you’re so embarrassed of me, you wouldn’t want people to notice your van outside would you!”

“Embarrassed? I’m not embarrassed of you! Fuck will you let me speak!”

“Now you want to? Now you want to fix this? No I am done, get out.”

“What? Baby no-” he spoke gently.

“Get out of my house.”

She turned her back on the boy slamming the door of her bathroom and locking herself inside. Leaning against it she listened out. Footsteps pattered down the stairs and the house shook with the slam of the front door.

Unlocking her own, she ran to the window, watching him get in his van and slam his hand on the steering wheel. He sat for a few seconds, before starting it up and driving away at an unsafe speed.

Letting out a sob, her hands came up to cover her face. Wiping away her tears furiously she walked towards the bathroom to shower off.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The phone rang out, echoing through the house, “Hello?” Y/N spoke.

“Okay what the hell is going on?” Robin spoke from the other end. “What?” she asked.

“Munson is currently going through romcom movies for himself, looking like he’s just been smacked in the face.”

Y/N couldn’t help it she sniffled, “Oh no, you broke up didn’t you?”

“Robs I couldn’t do it anymore! I’m so tired of being hidden away!”

“I know, how are you holding up?”

“I don’t know. Jesus Robs, I was so ready to tell him I love him, I feel like a fool.”

“You’re not. Hey I’ll come over later, we can have a movie night, I’ll make Steve take me to the store to get snacks.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Munson,” Robin spoke, walking up to him.

“Oh Hi Robin.”

“Listen, I’m not going to pretend like I don’t know cause I do. You and Y/N.”

“She told you?”

“I figured it out, you two kept making eyes at each other.” He chuckled at that.

“Yeah well not anymore. Pretty sure she hates me.”

“She doesn’t, just so you know. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why don’t you want to tell anyone you two?” she asked.

He sighed, “Robin, honestly, she’s way out of my league. I’m a freak. I’m a nerd. I’ve only just graduated highschool, and that was by the skin of my teeth. I have no money. I’m in a band. I have a shitty job.”

“Do you seriously think she cares?”

“I know she doesn’t, but she deserves the world.”

“Do you love her?” Eddie paused, putting the video he had in his hand back down, “More than anything.”

“Then that’s all that matters, now Munson, me and you are going to fix this.”

“Is there any point?”

“Eddie, I have never seen her like this over a guy. She adores you. You’re getting her back.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay on her bed, Y/N heard knocking on her door, “Yeah?” she called out.

“It’s me, do you want dinner?” Steve asked.

She hopped up off her bed and walked to the door, opening it to come face to face with her brother.

“Woah, you okay?” he asked. She shook her head, tears filling her eyes, wrapping her arms round her brother. “Y/N hey, it’s alright. You’re okay. Stevies got you,” he shushed her, rubbing her back.

Once she calmed down a bit Steve pulled away slightly. “What’s going on?”

“Just boy stuff. I thought I meant more to him than I actually did.”

“Want me to hurt him?”

“Steve, you’ve only won one fight in your life.”

“Against a Russian soldier!” she laughed at that. “Can I ask who?”

“I don’t think you’ll be happy.”

“Oh I already know. You’re not good at hiding it. Just wanted you to tell me when you were ready.”

“How long?”

“Couple months.”

“Well it doesn’t matter it’s over now.”

“I see the way he looks at you, I don’t think it is. I’m gonna order a pizza okay?” he said, to which she nodded. Pressing his lips softly to her head, he squeezed her shoulder.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Y/N can you get the door?” Steve called out.

Assuming it was the pizza she opened it quickly, but it wasn’t. “Eddie?”

“Hi, um these are for you,” he said handing her a bunch of Tulips.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I came to fix this, hopefully. I want too. I will do anything I can to fix this.”

“Eddie I can’t keep being your dirty secret.”

“You’re not! Baby you’re not! You deserve the world, you’re worth so much more than me.”

“What?”

“I just, baby look at us. Look at me. Look at you. You’re worth the world and more. You deserve everything, I don’t want to let you down.”

“Eddie you mean the world to me! You are everything to me. I want you. I want us.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just got into my own head. I saw the way the guy at the movies looked at us, and I’ve seen others too,” he explained.

“Eds I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you. I want to meet your brother as your boyfriend, I want you to meet Wayne. I want the kids to think we’re gross when we kiss in front of them.”

“Well I’d appreciate if you didn’t kiss in front of me,” Steve spoke, he was leaning on the doorframe. “You make her cry again Munson, and you’ll be at the bottom of Lovers Lake faster than you can say D&D.”

Eddie saluted Steve, “It won’t happen again.” Steve hummed and wander back to another room. “Could we start again? Please baby, I love you and I’d be a complete idiot if I didn’t try and get you back.”

“You love me?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening.

“Yeah I do. So much. The thought of not being with you, of you hating me. It made me feel sick. Made me hate myself. I love you.

“I know I don’t have much, but I will give you everything I can. If you’ll let me?”

“Of course I will you idiot, I love you,” she said, taking his face in her hands and kissing him fiercely. “You do?” he laughed.

“Yes!” she gave him a watery smile, “I love you more than anything Edward Munson.”

“I love you Y/N Harrington.”

When their lips almost touched, someone cleared their throat. “Uh I’m sorry to interrupt but someone owes me $20,” a girl spoke, with two pizza boxes in hand. “Oh sorry, Steve!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave any requests 🤍

[coneyislandbabey]

she's a rainbow. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: profanities, pining lol

SYNOPSIS: Warren's got it bad for Camila's childhood best friend. word count: 2,008

NOTES: Written for this request!

You dragged your paintbrush across the canvas, a trail of plum purple in its wake. You were sitting on your deck, the sky a cloudless blue, the morning filled with birdsong and a soft breeze only making itself known through the occasional soft rustle of your hair and clothes. June was a ripe peach in your hands, pink, perfect, fleeting. 

“What are you painting today, Picasso?” Warren’s clear voice rang out through the morning air. He was standing on the deck of his own house next door, forearms resting lazily on the railing as he gazed over at you. You glanced up from your work to send a smile his way. 

“Shocked to see you up this early,” you called by way of greeting. “If you wanna see what I’m painting, come over and look.” 

At your words, he disappeared back into the house, and you knew that in a minute he would be opening the sliding door and stepping out onto your own deck. You did this almost every day, ever since you followed your childhood best friend Camila across the country, moving into the house next to hers and her boyfriend’s band in Laurel Canyon. 

In the months since you arrived, you’ve gotten incredibly close with all of Camila’s housemates. Whenever you weren’t doing a shift for your part-time job at a coffee shop or at your own place working on your art, you were at their house. You and Camila spent a lot of time one-on-one, getting together for wine or lunch or anything else while the band was working, but the band loved you so much that you found yourself hanging out with them almost even more than with her, especially since Warren started inviting you to their recording sessions down at the studio. 

You had become so absorbed in your painting that you didn’t realize Warren had arrived on your deck until his hands were on the back of your chair and he was leaning over your shoulder to get a good look at the canvas. 

“Oh, it’s our street at night,” he observed, taking in the deep purples and night blues that the familiar street was rendered in. “It��s beautiful. Looks like a place I’d wanna be.”

You rolled your eyes. “It already is a place you wanna be, Warren. You live there.” 

Though you couldn’t see it, Warren grinned, swooping down to press a kiss to your cheek. “I only wanna be here so much ‘cause it’s where you are, mama.” 

You scoffed, sending a rueful smile his way as he sat in the chair next to yours. He pulled a joint out of his pocket, lit it, and offered it. You took it between your lips and inhaled before sending it back his way. For a while, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, Warren merely observing you as you painted. He had told you once, the two of you high as kites while hanging out late one night, that he loved to watch you paint. He said watching you paint was as intricate a thing as watching a musician play their instrument, that it was captivating. You had hung onto his words even through the drug-induced haze, had thought about them for weeks on end. 

“You’ll come over for dinner tonight, right?” he asked after a while. “Camila saw me leaving to come over here and made me promise to get you to come.”

“Man, I don’t even buy groceries over here anymore ‘cause I’m always just eating at yours,” you laughed. “Course I’ll come. Can’t beat the company.”

“Good,” he said, standing. “I gotta get back to the house; shockingly, I actually have responsibilities to see to today.”

“Oh, well color me impressed,” you responded, happily accepting his parting kiss on the cheek. 

Eddie watched, amused, as Warren got up for the dozenth time in the last half hour, drifting back over to the windows and peering outside, toward your house. Dinner was set for twenty minutes from now, and you were expected to come. Though some, clearly, were expecting you more than others. 

“Man, can you chill the fuck out? You’re making me antsy,” he said, after watching Warren pace the room for a few minutes while still pretending to look casual. 

“I am chill! I’m totally chill!” Warren said, having the gall to look incensed at his best friend’s words. 

Eddie leveled him with an unimpressed look. “Do you think you’ll finally just tell her how you feel so you can stop being such a fuckin’ freak every time she comes over?” 

Warren sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall. “Don’t you think if she was into me she would’ve said something by now? I’m not going to embarrass myself or ruin our friendship. I know when I’m gonna strike out.”

“Clearly you don’t, idiot,” Eddie retorted. “First of all, she could say the same about you because you haven’t made any moves either, man. All of what you just said means nothing.” 

“She’s definitely into you, anyway,” Graham said, joining the conversation as he walked into the room. 

“What makes you think that?” Warren asked, ignoring Eddie’s comments, which were clearly too logical for him. 

“Why else do you think she hangs around here so often? I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’re all friends, but everyone knows it's different with you two. Most of the time she’s here for you,” Graham explained. 

“Yeah, and don’t forget that she comes to our recording sessions because you asked her to,” Eddie chimed in, a smirk growing on his face as Warren’s cheeks grew redder. He didn’t have the chance to answer before someone knocked on the door. 

“You wanna go get that?” Eddie asked, raising a teasing eyebrow. 

Warren made his way to the door, shaking his head as if to physically rid himself of the conversation that had just happened. He had never felt the way he did about you before, not about any woman he had ever met. When you first met, things had been flirty between you, at least more flirty than you were with any of the other guys, and he almost plucked up the courage to ask you out in the first week of knowing you. But then the two of you got high together one night, and you got him talking about his hopes for the band, and you told him about all of your ambitions when it comes to your art, and he could feel himself falling in love a little. He had real, undeniable feelings for you, and that made it all too scary. So, he’d convinced himself that there was no way you could have feelings for him too, because thinking he had no chance with you was easier, more comfortable, than pining after you. 

He put a valiant effort into feigning nonchalance when he opened the door, all of these thoughts still a monsoon in his mind. You stood on the other side of the threshold, a bottle of wine in one hand and a covered plate of chocolate chip cookies in the other. 

“I baked ‘em!” you said proudly, holding up the plate and smiling widely at him. For a minute, his mind blanked, and all he could think about was the way your eyes sparkled in the porchlight, the way your dress fell perfectly on your figure. You knocked him dead every time he set eyes on you. Snapping out of it, he unburdened you of the bottle of wine and the cookies, widening his arms so he could take you in a hug. 

“Are they cookies? Or are they cookies,” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and smacking him playfully on the shoulder. “They’re just cookies, Rojas. This is a family dinner, not a late night recording session.” 

“Family dinner?” 

“Yeah,” you shrugged as you walked through the door. “This is a family, isn’t it?” 

“Guess it is,” he responded, because you were right and because he would agree with any statement you made ever for the rest of your lives. 

“Honey, you made it!” Camila shouted, coming over to hug you as you walked in. You greeted her warmly, and then did the same for everyone else standing around the kitchen helping to make dinner (or, really, getting in the way of Camila and Graham, who were the only ones actually cooking). 

Dinner was, as usual, the highlight of Warren’s day. After listening to Billy get grouchy and boss everyone around in the studio all day, getting to come home and actually unwind was a godsend. Plus, he got to see you, warm and pliant with wine and good food and good company. You were so effortlessly funny and charismatic, easily commanding the attention of the room with your stories and jokes without ever trying to. He could listen to you talk for the rest of his life. He could stand to do a lot of things with you for the rest of his life. 

After dinner, the group of you took the cookies you made and moved to the living room, settling in to watch a movie. You snuggled with Warren under a blanket on the loveseat, Eddie, Karen, Graham, and Camila squished into the old couch. Billy had retired to his room prior to the movie, citing that he needed to get some writing done. Graham had already fallen asleep, and Karen and Eddie were providing a running commentary of how bad the movie was. 

Warren nudged your side, and when you turned to look at him, he took a joint out of his pocket and tilted his head toward the door to the deck, a silent question. You nodded and he stood, you following close behind after wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. You didn’t see the exaggerated wink Eddie shot Warren’s way as you left the room, or the way Warren mimed slitting his throat in response, sending Eddie into a fit of laughter that he desperately tried to stifle. 

Outside, you settled into your usual chair, Warren pulling one up close to you before sitting down. You turned your body towards him, leaning your head on the back of the chair and gazing at him affectionately as he lit up the joint, and, as usual, offered it to you before himself. You took a hit before handing it back to him, settling back into your position of observing him as the joint went to his own mouth. 

“What are you lookin’ at, mama?” he asked, a mixture of curiosity and amusement gracing his face. 

You hummed, shrugging your shoulders noncommittally. “You should let me paint you sometime.” 

“Paint me? Why?” he asked, brows raising. 

“Because you’re pretty,” you said bluntly, Warren’s heart stumbled over itself. “You’d make a good muse.” 

Warren laughed, trying to steady himself. “You think I’m pretty?” 

You leaned toward him a bit more, a small, private smile on your face. “Of course I do, Warren. I’m sure dozens of other people have told you as much.”

“Not like this, no,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “And it wouldn’t mean anything coming from any but you, anyway.” Your brows raised, mouth dropping into a small, understanding ‘o’. Then you were smiling at him again, the corners of your eyes crinkling in a way that made his heart overflow. 

“Are you finally going to kiss me now?” you asked, and Warren choked, smoke emitting from his nose and mouth. 

“I- uh, yeah. Yeah, I am,” he stammered, shaking his head as vigorously as he could in his buzzed state. 

“Good,” you said, leaning over the arm of your chair. Warren crossed the rest of the distance himself, connecting his lips to yours. You led the kiss, firm and gentle, your thumb stroking reassuringly against his cheek. 

“So, about me painting you,” you said breathlessly once you pulled away. 

“Anything for you.I’d be honored to be your muse,” he grinned.

tag list: @xleiaorgana @neptunes-curse

[abibliophobiaa]

Comfort (smut is ok too)

I havent laughed like this in a long time

Forced proximity

Eddie munson

🌛🌜

thank you for your sweet request. had a lot of fun with this one. little ex-lovers to lovers again with rockstar!eddie ahead. warnings: mentions of alcohol and 18+, minors dni for p in v sex. || 2k words

You don’t mean to bump into your ex boyfriend at the bar. You’re meant to meet up with a date—someone your roommate, Robin, had set you up with. Said it was a friend from her undergrad program, that he was great and was a high school history teacher. Only he’s not here now, hasn’t shown up and it’s been well over an hour. Which is a shame, truly, because he sounded safe; vastly different from the man actually sitting before you now, twirling the ice round and around within his glass. 

And it’s not that Eddie isn’t safe, it’s just that he’d gone off on tour nearly a year ago and it rocked the foundations of your relationship to the core. He asked you to come. Through teary goodbyes as he climbed onto the tour bus all those months ago, he asked you once more. Begged for you to come, to embark on this new journey, to be there. But you were studying, working on your graduate degree, and he understood. He’s always understood, and though it pained him he climbed on that bus all the same and told you you’d make it work. 

For a bit…it did. 

You enjoyed the random flowers he’d have sent to your apartment, the gifts that would arrive at your doorstep on your birthday and other holidays, the phone sex when the guys had long gone to bed for the night. 

But eventually, all things change. 

 Phone conversations became sparse, conversation heavy and limited, spoken through whatever crappy phone booth he could come across on the road. You reminded yourself on those hard days that he always promised nothing would change, that time and space couldn’t take away what the two of you shared, but it changed you. 

You suggested it one day. Taking time apart. You with tests coming up, him with the constant late nights. You weren’t connecting like you once did, you told him, and winced when you heard his shaky exhale on the other line. It breaks you to break him, because if there’s one thing Eddie Munson has always been, it’s giving. You could ask for the moon and he’d wrangle that and the stars for you. He’d do anything to make you smile, to see you happy, to let you know just how honestly and truly loved you were. 

So he granted you that. Told you he loved you enough to let you go and hung up the phone on the receiver. It had been four months since that day. Four months of wondering what he’s doing, what he’s been up to. Four months of capturing his face in a magazine at a newsstand on your way home from work in the bustling streets of New York City. You bought them every time. Flipped through the colorful pages and traced the features you knew like the back of your hand, if only just to see him in some limited capacity. 

It’s nothing like having him across from you now. There’s never been anything really to encompass the punch to your gut that’s an inevitability when those amber eyes dart your way. 

“Can I sit here?” he asks, and he’s already sitting when you finally nod. “You alone?”

“I was supposed to be meeting up with someone.” He flinches at your honesty and nods. His dark hair dances along his black leather jacket, thumb running along his bottom lip as you continue eagerly, “What are you doing here?”

“Playing a concert tomorrow, as you know. We had the day off today.” He pauses at your frown. “You got the tickets I sent you, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you admit, remembering that they’re on the fridge back at your apartment. You’d been shocked when he sent them. Had meant to reach out…just hadn’t yet. “I’m going, if that’s what you’re wondering. With Robin.”

“Good.” He chuckles, mouth drawn into a smile that shows his dimples. “Your date is an ass, you know—for, uh, standing you up.”

You offer him a pleasant smile, twirling your own drink in front of you as you say, “I’m enjoying my company just fine.”

It’s as easy as breathing, the two of you falling back into conversation. You suppose that’s the nature of a friendship forged when you’re kids, and a romantic relationship that only came later. But you fall back into step like old friends and lovers, catching up on the months lost, of the guys in the band, your happenings in school, how Robin is doing. You talk about Hawkins and how Steve visited with the kids last weekend. And before long you’re walking back to your apartment, bubbles of excitement dancing in your belly at the prospect of spending more time with Eddie. 

“You sure you want me to come back?” he asks, all boyish grins and fingers toying with a curl that he drags along his plush lips. 

“It’s going to snow anyway. And my apartment is closer than your hotel,” you tell him, just as you drag him inside. “Robin’s out for the night anyway.”

You don’t intend to stay up most of the night talking. But you do, huddled together on your couch, giggling together until your sides ache and your cheeks hurt from grinning so much. Somewhere, in the midst of the movie you pop in and set to watch, a bowl of popcorn positioned in Eddie’s lap, the two of you drift off into sleep. Leather jacket pressed against your cheek, the tattoo of his heartbeat loud in your ears, the comfort of his familiarity calling you home. 

In the morning, you’re both on your sides. The popcorn, now likely stale, sits on your coffee table. Eddie’s fingers press into the dip of your back, his thighs slotted between yours, his face just millimeters from your forehead. It feels normal, and there’s a feeling of right that stirs in your chest from just simply having him close to you like this.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes closed, head nuzzling into yours. 

You don’t push away, don’t try to move. It feels nice, this nearness to him. Your fingers slide up and along his back, brushing against skin beneath his shirt. “Hi.” 

You’re met with those eyes that could have you falling in love all over again. Then again, you don’t think you ever truly fell out. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time,” he whispers, thumb coming up to run along your cheek gently. 

At the slow drag of the digit back and forth along your jawline, your heart stutters. “Me neither, Eddie. Look—I’m really sorry for—”

His next words tumble out in a breathless rush, “Do you think you could give us another chance? I’m done with the tour in another month and then I’ll be home. Here. And I want to do it with you.”

It’s a beautiful dream; sounds like everything you could want and more. But the logistics, the reality of what that looks like. “Eddie…you’re in Hawkins when you’re not working, and I’m here in the city—”

“I’ll move in.”

You break out into a disbelieving laugh. “Did you just invite yourself to move into my apartment?”

“I’ll move in…if you let me. If you want me to,” he says slowly, looking you firmly in the eye. There’s a severity there you’re unused to on his features. “Look, it’s not going to be easy, and I know that. I should have been more supportive on the road last time, should have called you more. Fuck, there’s a lot of things I should have done, but I shouldn’t have let you go. I should have gotten on the next plane to New York and been here.”

You’ve both made mistakes. Endless ones. Too many to count. In your heart, you understand letting Eddie go—letting your love go—is one of the gravest. 

“Your career skyrocketed—”

“Doesn’t matter. You were there for all my shitty shows with the five drunks in our crowd, and you were there when we played our first festival. You were there when we got signed with the record label. And I’m a fuckin’ idiot.”

It’s crazy; it sounds crazy, but it feels right and you’re blurting out your next words without thinking about it, choosing to try, choosing to believe, “I have three conditions for you moving in here.”

The hand brushing your cheek stops. “I’m listening.”

“You kiss me every morning and night when you’re here.” 

“Easy.” He leans down and nudges his nose against yours for emphasis. At the soft nod of your head, he leans down and captures your mouth with his, swallowing the hum that swells in the back of your throat. 

You reluctantly pull away, teasing the line of his nose with your own. “You promise to separate your lights from your darks before throwing them in the wash.”

He smirks, huffing out a laugh. “Babe, I’ll even do the dishes.”

“Tempting,” you tease, sliding your hand around his back and dragging it across his abdomen. His stomach twitches under your touch, amber eyes liquefying as they glance down to where your skin brushes his. 

“What’s the last one?” he asks, a pointer finger coming to tip your head up to look at him. He places another peck on your lips, maneuvering the two of you on the couch so you can shift over onto your back, one of his elbows resting beside your head to prop himself up. 

Your fingers slide up and over his heart, resting over the place you’d broken some months ago now, the same place he was willing to open up to you and lay bare once more. “We will never ever break up again. It killed me the first time. Been my best friend since we were kids, Ed.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” His palm moves to lay over yours, forehead dropping to rest against yours. “Never again. Gonna make sure you know every day just how much you mean to me. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And you mean it. It’s never been something that stopped; it’s a certainty just as the sun rising each day is. “So how soon can you move in?”

“Well,” he hums, sliding a palm down your side, along the curve of your hip, around the bend of your knee that spreads to accommodate him between the cradle of your hips. “Seeing as we’re snowed in, we can practice now.”

Your kisses are slow and languid, as is the way you undress one another. Fingers coming to slide his jacket down his arms, to help drag the tee shirt beneath up and over his head until his wavy hair springs free. He slides your jeans down your thighs, making you giggle when he blows a raspberry into your abdomen after you kick your thong free from your ankle into a heap on the floor alongside the jeans and boxers he’s since removed. And it’s a honey sweet sigh as he flops over onto his back and you sink down onto him, relishing in the fullness of being with the man who holds your heart after four months without. It’s the soft build of your impending release, husky moans from the man beneath you, quiet moans spilling from your parted lips. It’s the ringed fingers helping you rock against him, his hips undulating beneath yours, driving you closer and closer to your tipping point, the rasp of his voice as he breathes out, “I—ah, fuck. Made for me, sweetheart.”

“Missed you, Ed. Missed this. Missed us.” 

“That’s it. Take what you need. S’ gorgeous, baby.” 

As you shatter around him, sated and spent, and drop down to rest against him, with his fingers trailing up and down your bare spine, you relish in the fresh start, a love to nurture. 

And a few days later, you relish in the new home you start to build as you help him unpack and his things become one with your own. 

-

-

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hey! This is Birdie_Castellan from ao3 and I was wondering if, for the requests, you could maybe do a sort of 5+1 trope (you can adjust the numbers as you please though) of like 5 times Gareth or Robin or someone in the party thought Steve and Eddie are acting weird, plus one time they're not or something?

Okay, I'll admit getting started on this was hard. I didn't know what angle I wanted to go with here, but then once I got started, it poured out of me. I love the idea that these idiots really tried to hide their relationship like they aren't so obviously in love. I also love that everyone is so oblivious that it takes them months to figure it out. - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Robin

Steve was running late to pick Robin up for their shift.

Honestly, she didn’t even really care that much about being late. Even if it was the second time this week.

She cared because he was being weird about why he was running late. For the second time this week.

At least he’d called this time. He hadn’t remembered to on Tuesday, so she just had to sit on her doorstep and hope he showed up eventually.

He was on his way now, so they’d only be a few minutes late, but Keith would surely ream them out for it. Any charms she could use to get Keith on her side before had long evaporated like smoke; he’d caught onto her not actually being interested in him and now she was no better than Steve.

Just when she was getting ready to wait inside, Steve’s car pulled into the driveway.

“Thank god,” she huffed as she stalked over.

She opened the passenger door and was met with-

“Eddie?”

“Hey Robbie,” he said with a wave, fingers fluttering.

“Okay, one: you’re in my seat. Two: why are you in my seat?”

Eddie looked to Steve, then back at Robin before he got out and sat in the back.

Robin got in the seat and shut the door, buckling up.

She turned to Steve, who was pretending to focus on the rear view mirror as he backed out of the driveway.

“Why is Eddie here?”

“Van broke down,” Eddie said.

“We were just hanging out,” Steve said at the same time.

Robin looked at Steve, who gritted his teeth and gripped the steering wheel harder, and then back at Eddie, who looked like he was going to jump out of the barely moving car.

“Uh huh. And Eddie’s coming to work with us…why?”

“Lost track of time,” Steve sounded like he hadn’t thought about the fact that Robin would ask some questions when they arrived.

And it’s not like she was oblivious to the fact that Eddie and Steve hung out, she just didn’t realize it was often alone.

Unsupervised.

No kids around to interrupt anything.

But no, Steve would’ve told her if they were…doing anything.

Right?

She chose to move on for now, the tension in the car far too uncomfortable for her.

Keith was only a little bit of an asshole, more concerned about leaving than yelling at them.

Robin immediately started helping customers while Steve restocked movies, Eddie trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

Robin watched out of the corner of her eye, and when the customers left, she turned and put all her attention on what Steve and Eddie were doing.

Eddie was leaning against the shelf, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke about something while Steve smiled to himself as he put movies away.

Robin couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

From where she stood, which may have been too far to really tell, it looked like Steve Harrington might have a crush.

————————

Jonathan and Argyle

“Wasn’t Eddie supposed to meet us here already?” Jonathan was pacing, wearing a path into the ground as he kicked more leaves out of the way.

“Dude, relax. Time isn’t real,” Argyle responded, eyes closed as he laid back on the picnic table.

“Something might be wrong, though.”

“Sorry I’m late!” Eddie proclaimed from the trees.

But he wasn’t alone.

Jonathan squinted through the dark and saw Steve following close behind him, hair mussed up and dirt stains on his knees.

“Did you guys run into someone or something?”

“Told you everything was fine,” Argyle finally sat up and greeted them. “You know we can meet at Jonathan’s house next time. Ms. Byers totally took a hit off my last roll and loved it so I think she’s comin’ around, man.”

Steve looked flushed, like he’d been running.

Eddie was barely out of breath.

“Steve, you okay?” Jonathan asked, continuing to suspiciously look over a perfectly calm Eddie.

“Yep! Just wasn’t expecting to walk this far.”

“Okay…”

Eddie pulled a bag out of his vest pocket and handed it to Jonathan.

“Threw in some extra when I knew we’d be late. Sorry man.”

“No worries. How much?”

“$20. Or $30 if you want me to roll it for you,” Eddie normally charged $30 for what he was giving Jonathan plus $20 more to roll it, but since it was Jonathan, he was willing to give him a pretty decent discount.

Him and Argyle were his best customers.

They exchanged money and goods, all while Steve leaned against a tree, seeming dazed.

“Okay, seriously, did you get another concussion Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Steve’s just high. We tried out a new strain and it hit him harder than we thought it would,” Eddie supplied quickly.

It sounded like a lie, but it did seem possible.

And it explained why they were late.

“Same time next week?” Eddie asked, making his way back to Steve.

“Yeah, but let’s just meet at your trailer or something.”

“Sure. Wayne will be at work anyway.”

As they went their separate ways, Jonathan watched the way Eddie slipped a hand around Steve’s waist, guiding him back through the trees.

He could hear him mumbling, but couldn’t hear anything except “so good” and “reward.”

“I didn’t know the babysitter and Batman 2.0 were dating,” Argyle said from behind him, making him jump.

“What? They’re not. Steve’s super straight.”

“Uh. I don’t think so.”

Jonathan looked at Argyle, then back at the retreating figures of Eddie and Steve.

“Alright, man. Guess we’ll find out eventually.”

——————————

Hopper

He was bored. And tired. And sick of having to do bullshit coverage shifts.

He was the Chief, dammit.

He’d been through all this shit already.

But he knew the only way anyone would take him seriously was if he still did the occasional patrol shifts.

He’s already done a loop, surprised to find that absolutely no one was on the roads. It was late, but not so late that he hadn’t expected at least a few people to pass by.

On his second loop, he slowed down when he saw a van parked at Lover’s Lake.

Eddie’s van.

Eddie who was supposed to be laying low.

Sure, he’d been officially cleared for months, but the town still had their doubts.

Being out at 11 at night wasn’t exactly laying low.

Hopper sighed as he parked and got out of his patrol car, not wanting to startle him with the lights or sirens.

The kid could just be trying to get out of the house.

But as he got closer, he could hear low moans.

“Dammit, Eddie,” Hopper said to himself before banging on the back door of the van.

The moaning abruptly stopped and he heard some mumbled cursing and watched the van shake for a moment before the back door opened.

Eddie looked disheveled, which was what Hopper had been expecting.

What he wasn’t expecting was an equally disheveled Steve Harrington.

It was pretty rare that he was shocked into silence these days, but when he opened his mouth to give a warning, nothing came out.

It became clear pretty quickly that Steve was hoping he wouldn’t be seen as he pulled a blanket over himself while Eddie got out of the van and closed the door.

“Uh, was that…”

“Nope. Just me.”

Hopper’s eyes squinted suspiciously.

“Just you?”

“Yep. Had to get out of the trailer. Wayne’s been off all week and the walls are thin. Desperate times, ya know?”

Eddie was good, he’d always been good at convincing people what he was saying was true.

He probably convinced himself what he was saying was true.

And Hopper learned long ago to pick his battles, especially with teens and young adults like Eddie.

He wasn’t hurting anybody, no one else was around, he technically couldn’t even prove he was doing anything illegal at all, so he just nodded.

“Right. Well, this is just a warning for you to take you and your hand back home so I don’t have to get you on public indecency. Got it?”

“Sure thing, Chief!” Eddie saluted obnoxiously.

He made his way to the front of his van, hopping in and starting it up quickly.

“I don’t get paid enough,” Hopper said as he walked back to his car.

When Eddie’s van passed by him, he saw Steve sitting in the passenger seat, blanket curled around him and eyes closed like he was asleep.

Whatever.

Hopper didn’t need to know, want to know, or care to know.

————————

Max

Max may be blind, but she wasn’t blind.

It was easy to see what was going on with Steve and Eddie.

They were clingy, but in weird ways. They didn’t hang all over each other, they clearly were trying to hide their relationship from everyone.

What they did was orbit each other.

Max couldn’t see, but she could tell.

Anytime Eddie spoke, Steve spoke from somewhere nearby. Anytime Eddie sat down next to Max, Steve would sit on her other side. When Steve would excuse himself, Eddie wouldn’t be far behind.

She was pretty sure none of the others noticed, or if they did, they didn’t say anything.

But she finally had to when she was sitting on Eddie’s porch one afternoon, trying to feel her way through a G chord. She heard Steve’s car pull up, his feet on the steps.

“Hey, Max, Eds,” Steve said fondly.

She could hear in her voice that he was looking at them like he did when he was overwhelmed with love.

It was gross.

“Hey, swee-Stevie. Off work early?” Eddie asked.

Max heard Steve take a seat on the same step Eddie was sitting on, but didn’t hear anything else.

At least they were smart enough not to kiss or something. She’d hear that for sure.

“Just a little. Keith didn’t want me getting overtime this week. You giving Max a lesson so she can be the next big rockstar?”

Max let out a laugh.

“Well, he’s making sure I’m not useless with a guitar, but I’m far from rockstar material,” Max said as she started strumming again.

It was quiet for a few minutes, but she knew they were still there watching her.

She finally gave up for the day, her frustration level much too high to properly attempt a new chord right now.

“Alright, someone walk me home so I don’t have to interrupt your date or whatever,” she said as she got up.

Steve choked on nothing as Eddie started immediately trying to argue.

“What? This isn’t a date! Steve just had to come by and pick something up.”

“Are you the something he has to pick up?” Max knew she was pushing, but they were just acting so fucking weird lately and she wanted answers.

“No!”

“Whatever. Can someone walk me home?”

She heard Steve shift his weight on the porch step, then footsteps as he got down.

“Sure thing. Need my arm or just wanna walk next to me?”

“Next to you.”

She got off the step, held the guitar out for Eddie to take, and started walking.

When they got to the gravel road, Steve cleared his throat.

“It’s um. Like it’s really. Um.”

“Don’t hurt yourself Steve. It’s fine. Probably good that you found someone, right?”

She didn’t need any vision to know that Steve was probably bright red.

“Uh huh. Yep.”

They got to her house quickly and he helped her up the steps.

“Need anything before I go?” Steve asked, like always.

“Need you to leave me alone,” Max replied, like always.

“You know where I’ll be if that changes,” she could hear the smile in his voice as he walked back down the steps.

She went inside and thought about how long this had been going on.

Months, really, though they may actually not have noticed or been together at first. They were both idiots in their own ways and they seemed like the type to be stupid with feelings.

But whatever was going on now seemed to keep them happy, and if that meant dealing with their weirdness, Max was secretly happy about it.

—————————-

Dustin

Steve was always at Hellfire now.

And, like, it was cool. It was fine. Dustin liked that he showed an interest now, the rest of the party did, too.

But he was a distraction.

Eddie was the best DM besides Will that Dustin had ever seen, but when Steve started coming to watch, it was like ants had started picking pieces of his brain away to build their homes.

Seriously, he got more stupid by the minute.

And Eddie wasn’t stupid, is the thing.

Whether it was D&D or real life shit or even some subjects in school, he was brilliant.

But if Steve was around, his brain left the building.

Tonight was maybe the worst.

They were on their second to last night for this campaign (hopefully) and Steve had shown up about halfway through.

He’d been a little bitchy, even towards Eddie, and had been sitting on the couch drinking water and rubbing his eyes and neck every few minutes.

Eddie kept glancing over at him, stopping mid-sentence and getting completely distracted.

Everyone was getting annoyed and he knew Erica was one more distraction away from calling him out.

As annoyed as Dustin was, he didn’t want that to happen.

Instead, when he saw Eddie’s eyes drifting over to Steve again, he kicked his shin and widened his eyes at him.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“What do you mean, what the hell? You just kicked me?” Eddie whispered angrily.

“You keep looking at Steve and getting lost. Erica’s about to lose her shit,” Dustin whispered back.

“No I don’t,” Eddie said, looking back at the papers in front of him.

“Dude.”

Dustin looked over at Steve, watching as he winced and started rubbing his forehead.

Shit. He had a migraine.

Why did he even come here if he had a migraine?

He knows how loud they can be.

He knows Eddie would take them all home.

Unless…

No. No way.

Dustin was oblivious about this stuff sometimes, but he would know if Steve and Eddie were, like, a thing. Right?

Eddie continued on, but his leg started bouncing anxiously when Steve got up to go to the bathroom.

He was gone for three minutes before Eddie called a break and booked it towards the bathroom.

No one paid much attention except for him, so he walked down the hall and stopped outside the bathroom door.

“You should’ve called me, I would’ve come to you,” Eddie’s voice said quietly.

“Just wanted to see you,” Steve replied, his voice raspy and wet, like he’d been crying.

Dustin resisted the urge to open the door, wanted to see what else they would say first.

“Stevie…”

“After Hellfire can you play with my hair?”

Dustin’s jaw dropped.

That…could be friendly…maybe.

“Yeah, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

Dustin’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he realized what was going on.

He walked back to the table, his world spinning at the realization that Steve and Eddie were together and probably had been for a while.

———————————

Everyone

Wayne Munson usually spent his birthday working or with Eddie, but not this year.

He’d been adopted into this little family of misfits and freaks, and he was damn pleased about it.

Joyce had insisted on throwing him a party at her house, everyone was bringing something, and he could invite anyone else he wanted there, too.

Wayne didn’t really have friends. Sure, he went fishing with a couple guys from work every month, but that was more for the fishing than the bonding with people.

So he showed up with Eddie, ten minutes late because Eddie had forgotten to wrap his present until they were about to walk out the door.

Hugs were passed around, Hopper even giving him an awkward one-armed side hug.

Steve and his friend Robin showed up a few minutes later, still in their work uniforms and looking a bit tired. He hugged them both and thanked them for coming by.

It was fun, if a little overwhelming being around all these people as they ate and sang him happy birthday.

He was surprised to see that everyone got him presents.

Look, Wayne was a simple man. He had everything he needed, anything else was just extra.

But he felt loved as he opened gift after gift, small tokens of love from these kids and adults who knew him just enough to know what he’d appreciate.

Mostly mugs and hats, one pair of work boots from Hopper, who insisted they were the best brand he’d ever had.

Eddie handed over a small package, and Steve stood next to him, huge smiles on both their faces.

“This is from me and Steve. Hope you like it.”

Wayne ignored the fact that this was a joint gift, already promising himself he wouldn’t bring up whatever weird thing was going on between his nephew and the Harrington boy this morning.

He started to open it and looked up confused when it was just a handwritten note and a ticket.

“What’s this?”

“Read it!” Eddie bounced up and down.

Steve placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him, but smiled at him fondly.

Hm.

So Wayne read.

Wayne,

A couple months ago, you mentioned that you hadn’t been to the mountains in almost 20 years and you missed the fishing there. I know I was a lot of the reason you haven’t been, and I’m not gonna apologize, because you won’t let me, but I will say thank you.

Thank you for putting me first for so long. Thank you for giving me everything I needed and working so hard to make sure I wasn’t like my dad. No amount of thank yous could be enough, but I hope this helps.

Enjoy your trip, old man. Love, Eddie

P.S. Steve did most of the work on this so if it’s terrible, it’s his fault.

Wayne moved the letter out of the way and looked at the ticket.

A train ticket to the Smoky Mountains. Another paper was folded up behind that showing his cabin reservations on a lake.

Wayne felt tears spring to his eyes as he looked up at Eddie, who was holding Steve’s hand.

“You boys did this?”

They nodded.

“C’mere,” Wayne gestured for both of them to come closer, and he quickly pulled them both into a hug.

But it was interrupted by Mike, the Wheeler with an attitude, only a few seconds later.

“Are we not talking about how they got him a gift together and are holding hands?”

The party went quiet and Wayne felt Steve and Eddie go tense in his arms.

“It’s alright, boys. You don’t owe an explanation to no one,” Wayne whispered to them before pulling away.

But they kept holding hands, and when they looked at each other, Wayne knew they weren’t gonna run.

“It’s Wayne’s day, but, I guess we should just go ahead and tell you all,” Eddie started.

“We’ve been dating for a while, and it’s pretty serious, so we planned to tell everyone at the next family dinner,” Steve rushed out.

Eddie must have sensed his nerves, pulled his hand out of Steve’s and wrapped his arm around his waist.

“How long is a while?” Dustin asked.

“About four months.”

Everyone was shocked into silence.

But then, one at a time, people started saying “should’ve known” and “that explains so much” and Wayne couldn’t help the smirk on his face.

He’d walked in on Steve curled up against Eddie’s chest on the couch one night about a month ago, snuck in so he wouldn’t interrupt them. At the time, he’d known there was something going on, but figured it wasn’t that serious.

He’d never been happier to be wrong.

[doeeyeseddie]

Hii :) if I'm not too late for the soft prompts, I would love some buddie + "I missed you"

hello! sorry it took me over a month to write this but i hope you see and like it <3

[read on ao3]

Buck is pacing. He knows it’s stupid, knows it doesn’t make the minutes pass faster, but he braved the hellish drive to LAX and now he doesn’t have the patience to just stand here and stare at the board displaying the arrivals, waiting for the flight from ELP to switch from “On Approach” to “Arrived”.

He stops when it finally does, but then immediately starts pacing again. Eddie only traveled with hand luggage, but it’s still gonna be ages until he’s off the plane and stepping through the gates.

He’s glad no one here knows that it’s only been three days since he last saw Eddie, they’d probably call them co-dependent. But what they also don’t know is that Eddie kissed Buck for the first time right before he left for El Paso, and that Buck has been absolutely aching to do it again since then.

Three days of only seeing Eddie’s face through the screen of his phone, three days of holding back all of the questions he still has. It kind of feels like he should ask them in person, and anyway, it wasn’t the right time. Eddie flew out to help his parents after his mom had to undergo a minor operation, just for three days until Adriana could take over, so he had plenty of other things to think about. Buck, meanwhile, took care of Christopher and slept in Eddie’s bed every night, which did not help with the thoughts swirling through his head or the buzzing of his nerves.

And now he’s only minutes away from seeing Eddie in person, from being able to touch him, from maybe finally getting answers, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

So he paces.

With one eye constantly on the sliding doors, he walks back and forth, feeling jittery all over.

And yet, the second Eddie actually, finally steps through the doors, Buck is rooted to the spot.

He’s wearing jeans – of course he is, he says sweatpants are for the gym or for sleeping and rarely even wears them around the house – and a soft sweater, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He’s carrying his duffle bag and his forearms look, frankly, indecent. His soft, product-less hair looks like it’s just waiting for Buck to run his hands through it, and he aches. But he can’t quite bring himself to move.

Three days ago, they were standing not far from here, Eddie with that same duffle bag and Buck tagging along all the way into the airport, even though there wasn’t really a reason to.

“You didn’t even remind me to call you if I have any questions,” Buck said, and Eddie shook his head with a smile.

“You know that anyway, Buck.”

“Yeah, but I know the lists you still write for Christopher’s sleepovers—”

“The same way you know all of mine and Chris’ routines,” Eddie interrupted him gently, and Buck felt himself flush. “Buck, I trust you. I know you don’t need any lists or instructions. You’ve done this before, even when there was no way to call me.”

“Maybe, but Carla was there to help,” Buck insisted, even though he’d rather not talk or even think about anything related to Eddie being shot.

“Buck,” Eddie said again, and reached up to squeeze Buck’s shoulder. His thumb brushed the bare skin of Buck’s throat, and Buck swallowed hard. “I’m not worried. You two will be fine.”

“We’ll still miss you,” Buck blurted out, and Eddie’s eyes got even softer.

“I’ll miss you too,” he murmured, and then he leaned in and kissed Buck.

It lasted only a couple of seconds and Eddie jerked back, wide-eyed. Buck opened his mouth to say…something, or maybe to beg Eddie to do it again, but he was interrupted by an announcement from the overhead speakers telling them that Eddie’s flight had started boarding.

“You’re not even through security yet,” he said instead of any of the other things he wanted to say, and Eddie blinked, his hand dropping from Buck’s shoulder.

“Shit, yeah, I–” He licked his lips. “Sorry, I– I have to go, but– we’ll talk when I get back?”

“Yeah,” Buck nodded. Somehow, at some point, his hands had made their way to Eddie’s waist, and he dropped them now. “Uh, safe flight, text– text me when you land?”

“Promise,” Eddie said over his shoulder, already a few steps away, and then he disappeared in the mass of people queuing for security.

Buck touched his lips almost absently. What the fuck had just happened?

Eddie’s walking towards him slowly, measuredly, and he’s smiling, but it looks a little bit nervous. Something about that makes Buck feel better, kind of.

“Hey,” Eddie says quietly when he reaches him, and Buck just throws his arms around him in a hug that’s probably too tight, especially considering that it’s only been three days.

But Eddie’s duffle drops to the ground by their feet with a thud and he hugs him back just as tightly, so maybe it doesn’t matter at all.

“Eddie,” Buck breathes, and they just stand there for way too long, holding each other.

“I missed you,” Eddie says eventually, his breath warm against the side of Buck’s neck, and Buck tries not to shiver.

“I missed you too,” he whispers, and Eddie laughs a little.

“It’s only been three days.”

“Yeah, but,” Buck loosens his hold a little and takes half a step back, just enough to look at Eddie. “Eddie, you– you kissed me and then you said we’d talk when you got back and for three days I couldn’t tell you– I had to wonder if it was a mistake–”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Eddie interrupts him. “An accident, maybe, because the timing was fucking terrible, but. Not a mistake.”

Buck laughs, because he doesn’t know how else to deal with the amount of feelings rushing through him, and tentatively, the corners of Eddie’s mouth lift too until his adorable dimple appears, and Buck reaches out to touch it, then cups Eddie’s cheek, rosy now.

“For three days, I– I wanted to tell you that what I really wanted to say after you kissed me was,” he hesitates only for a second, the sparkle in Eddie’s eyes telling him everything he needs to know, “Can you please do that again?”

Eddie laughs, but he presses his cheek into Buck’s palm a little harder and pulls him in by the waist.

“I would’ve,” he confesses, and his nose nudges Buck’s.

“Many times,” Buck murmurs. “So many times, Eddie.”

“No objection from me.” Eddie’s lips are soft against Buck’s cheek, his chin, the corner of his mouth. “I’m happy to do this for the rest of my life.”

And when he kisses Buck, he knows that he means it.

[cacoetheswriting]

pearl: october 1980

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k summary: eddie has a conversation with the girl of his dreams.

content warnings: best friends to lovers, part of a slow burn, a lil mutual pining, adult language, use of pet names, oblivious idiots, self-doubt / insecurities - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

pearl masterlist <- part of this lil series, but can definitely be read as a standalone.

When it came to starting a conversation with people, Eddie sure as hell was not the confident type.

Middle School didn’t allow for a lot of practice, especially since as a person with interests that differed from the norm, he was shunned quite early on into a category he couldn’t, and often still can’t get out of no matter how hard he tries: freak.

People weren’t lining up to spend time with him even in a platonic capacity, and they sure as hell didn’t want to get to know him in a romantic way.

But with time, Eddie learned to be okay with that.

Especially since, as it turns out, most girls in Hawkins had some sort of ‘bad boy’ fantasy they liked to keep a dirty little secret and he was happy to oblige.

Plus it’s not like he badly needed anyone to actually call his own. High School was apparently a time of self-discovery and what he discovered in the last month was that honestly, he really didn’t mind being the almost invisible freak.

That all changed when you came around.

Your entrance into his life was rather unexpected and Eddie quickly realised that he needed to up his game. Yeah, perhaps he still wanted to be left alone, but that thought took a back burner whenever you laughed.

Honey, the sound of your laughter. Every time he heard it, his heart would skip a beat and his palms would start to feel clammy, sweaty, as he gravitated towards the sound instantly. As he gravitated towards you.

Unfortunately for Eddie, so did everyone else in this godforsaken town. 

Who could blame them? Your arrival right at the start of the school year was perhaps the most exciting thing to happen in Hawkins since that maniac Creel murdered his entire family in the late 50s.

You had quickly become the new it girl and in the blink of an eye, you two were running in different circles. Your reality had become so far removed from his own, any hopes or dreams he had of getting to know you on a deeper level had become just that: dreams.

God knows he still thought about you often.

“Care to share with the rest of the group, Mr. Saltzman?” the teacher calls out, causing all heads to turn simultaneously in the general direction of the distraction. 

This includes Eddie's and he's glancing up from the scribbles in his notepad to focus instead on a few rows ahead where you, the girl everyone wanted to be friends with, sat.

The boy sitting next to you shifts uncomfortably in his seat, shaking his head. 

“We were just discussing the history of Halloween,” you chime sweetly. The teacher doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, but with such a likeable personality like yours, there’s not much else to say.

“Blake here doesn't believe Halloween dates back to the Celts, and the ancient festival of Samhain,” you continue with the quite convincing lie and Eddie's surprised you know these obscure facts, “He thinks I’m bluffing when I say the day marked the end of summer for the Celts, who believed on the night of October 31st the boundary between the worlds of the living and the dead became blurred, thus what we now know and celebrate as Halloween.”

Your confidence certainly is admirable, although why you choose to protect the douche you called a ‘friend’ was beyond the young metalhead.

“I guess the conversation probably could have waited till after class so, won’t happen again. We’re sorry,” you add with a soft smile.

When the teacher returns to the blackboard, resuming the lesson no one was really paying attention to anyway, Eddie observes as you mumble something to Blake before turning your head ever so slightly in his direction. 

The air hitches in his throat as he awaits the standard "What are you looking at, freak.", but it never comes.

Instead, you smile at him and Eddie can feel his face turn a gleaming shade of red — pathetic. He quickly ducks his head down, but can still feel your eyes on him. It takes everything he has to stop himself from looking up again, afraid of somehow making a fool of himself.

Luckily, he manages to keep distracted till the bell rings, but he's not completely in the clear 'cause as everyone disperses in a hurry, you approach him.

“What you doodlin’?”

When he doesn't immediately answer, or meet your gaze for that matter, your hand appears in his field of vision. Your moves are hesitant at first, but since Eddie doesn't protest, you twirl the notebook around on the desk.

“Well shit, Eddie. These are really fucking cool.”

He snaps his head up, possibly a little too quickly, a little too eagerly, but he couldn’t help the act of surprise 'cause he didn’t realise…

“You know my name?”

Your pretty eyes latch onto his momentarily and a smile circles your lips. “Of course I do. As the new kid in town, I had to make it my business to know who’s who since y’all ogled me and my family from day one as if we were from outer space.”

He let out a semi-nervous chuckle as you pause, glancing back down at the notebook. 

“Plus, you’re pretty much the only person in this entire school who’s got a good taste in music,” you state casually, as if it’s no big deal. And to you it’s not. Though for Eddie, your admission causes his heart to flutter inside his chest since no one's ever admitted out loud to liking the same shit as him.

“Anyway, are you going to this Halloween party tonight? I’m thinking of dressing up as Janis Joplin and I could really use someone to be Peter Albin…”

“I’d love to!”

You giggle at his excitement and Eddie's thanking some lucky stars that his rather abrupt reaction doesn’t scare you off.

“I-I mean, I love Peter Albin. Janis too. Dressing up as them with you would be cool," he rambles.

“Cool,” you say and flick through some pages of his notebook and bend over slightly to scribble something down. “This is my address. Come by around six if you wanna make it for dinner, my mom’s making lasagna. Also, if you wanna stay over after the party, we have a spare room so bring a change of clothes or somethin’.”

Stay over at your house... Eddie swallows and does his best not to show how his insides are literally shaking at the thought of: a) going to a party with you, and b) this casual invite to what one could only call a sleepover.

The bell rings, signalling it’s time for next period.

A small part of the metalhead is angry since it means the two of you have to part ways, at least for now, but as he stands to gather his things, to his pleasant surprise, you wait. 

A certain envious feeling spreads through Eddie because he was never good at making friends, yet it seemed to come so naturally to you. Then something crosses his mind. What if this is some elaborate joke? After all, you are friends with some of the worst people this school has to offer, however, he does his best to shake the thought away for now and follows you out into the crowded hallway.

“So, are you a big Joplin fan?” Eddie asks, his best attempt to continue the conversation.

“Pearl is my favourite album,” you reply, “I know that could be a little tame to someone who wears a Judas Priest t-shirt, but I promise I also take devil worship super seriously.”

He snorts at your joke and when your eyes meet his once again, his priorities shift and he swear he's willing to do quite possibly anything to become your friend.

To say you checked your appearance at least forty times wouldn’t be a gross over exaggeration.

You had the outfit planned long before you were even invited to this Halloween party, you knew it was perfect and something Janis Joplin herself would likely wear, yet ever since you asked Eddie Munson to not only join you, but also compliment the costume with his own, you were suddenly feeling nervous.

The curly-haired teen was by far the coolest person in this stingy town — although it didn’t seem like he knew that or like anyone else shared your belief.

His metalhead vibe reminded you a lot of the kids you grew up around, which is exactly the initial reason why you were so drawn to him. Though it took you weeks to finally approach him. Partially because you were scared he’d brush you off, but mainly because ever since you moved to Hawkins with your parents at the brink of August and September, the more popular kids latched onto you like leeches.

“Don’t waste your time with Munson,” Blake would say repeatedly, “He’s a freak.”

Unfortunately for your new group of friends, you didn’t care about social status and it also helped to know Eddie was just as fascinated with you as you were with him. His secret glances and soft smiles when no one else was looking only affirmed that belief.

So you bit the bullet and invited him out.

Bold move on your part. One you were almost starting to regret as you nervously flattened the crinkles of your loose shirt, glancing at the clock on the wall in anticipation.

Eddie doesn’t show up for dinner.

You try to hide the disappointment in front of your parents and eat the meal while actively listening to your dad retelling the events from his day at work.

“Kid, I tell ya, moving here was the best idea your mother’s ever had. Aside from marrying me and havin' you, of course. Wanna know the most exciting thing that’s happened? There was a mixup with our lunch order. Can you believe it?”

You help mom clean up after before going to quickly freshen up, brush your teeth, and grab your set of house keys. After saying a quick goodbye, still thinking about the boy that never showed, you walk outside and are about to begin your journey to the party you no longer wanted to go to when a figure emerges from the shadows.

“Shit,” you exhale and place a hand over your heart, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says sheepishly, running a hand through his brown locks. “I-I wasn’t sure if you were still home so…”

Your brows string together as you take a step towards him.

“How long have you been out here, Eddie?”

“Uhm, at least the last half hour,” he answers, “I noticed the light was on upstairs, but I wasn’t sure if that was your room or not. Figured I’d hang around and you’d either show up or I’d head home embarrassed.” He pauses. “Sorry I didn’t come for dinner.”

“It’s okay,” a white-lie. “Still wanna go to the party?”

“If you want to.”

Eddie slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and you notice then how good he looks under the dim street lamps. Peter Albin, eat your heart out.

“I like your outfit,” you compliment him with a genuine smile and you swear you can see him blush.

“Thanks,” he says with a little more confidence than he’s displayed thus far, “but you arguably look a hundred percent better than me.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you, Eddie. That’s very sweet.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you never make it to the party.

Instead, Eddie offers to show me Skull Rock and that’s how you end up laying down on the cold ground, arm-to-arm, somewhere in the middle of the forest. 

Truth be told, if you were with anyone else, you wouldn’t have agreed to this in the first place. An eerily quiet night and the deep dark woods are like a recipe for disaster in most horror movies.

Things felt different with Eddie.

Despite only having three conversations in the span of one day, the doe-eyed boy made you feel safe.

The few hours hiding from the world under this rock also made you realise how much you actually have in common. The conversation flow was incredibly natural. You drifted from topic to topic as if you had known each other a lifetime and in the space of two hours, you went from sitting across from one another to being in the formerly named position — pinkies gently grazing.

His presence next to yours is soothing. It’s also exciting, thrilling even. You hadn’t experienced this sensation before, with anyone, and you quickly find yourself thinking perhaps this could be more than just a friendship.

Until Eddie says, “Friends are hard to come by in Hawkins. I’m glad we’re here and I hope we can hang out more.”

Darkness hides your disappointment.

Short lived, the idea of dating the boy next to you so it’s easy to extinguish the flame inside and convince yourself that perhaps this was for the best.

Relationships end. Sometimes they do so quite badly.

Friendships however, well, they have a tendency to last forever.

“From now on, Eddie, we’ll never not be hanging out.”

pearl masterlist

thank you for reading <3

& tagging some cool people that expressed interest in this lil series: @cactusangie , @spenciesprincess , @capitanostella , @ashlynnkennedy , @ms1oftheboys

[sempiternalmuze]

Hey, love your work :) Maybe you could write something for Eddie along the lines of him having a crush on the reader, but thinking the reader and Graham are in a relationship bc they are so close, but the reader also has a huge crush on Eddie and they have some sort of fight or talk, where they realise they both have a crush on each other :)

Heartstrings

eddie roundtree/loving x f!reader

description: req!

word count: 1.4k

warning(s): none

a/n: yesyesyes! Thank you so much by the way, I try :,). I've never written something like this before, so give me a chance here. Some slight deviations from the story we know and love. Thank you for the prompt <3 sorry it took like 5 months to get it done!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ. ─── ➶ ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: . . :☆ﾟ. ───

Graham’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you against him as you lounged on the couch together, whispering like you usually did. You whispered something to him, making him laugh so loud that Eddie could hardly keep pretending to focus on the TV set. He rolled his eyes, readjusting himself on the love seat as he tried to drown out the laughter of you and Graham.

“You know, there’s rooms all over this house you two could go to if you need some time alone.” Warren laughed, teasing the two before sliding himself down next to Eddie, pushing his legs off.

Eddie couldn’t help but glare at him, rubbing at his temple. A few hours ago he had felt so good, so refreshed when you came walking through the door, bags in hand for a two week visit from upper Cali. Eddie had been home with Warren, watching some sitcom, bored out of his mind. When he saw you standing in the doorway he almost knocked you over by how quickly he wrapped his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He sighed, pulling away enough to look you right in the eye.

You couldn’t help but look away in an attempt to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. You smiled, taking in the way his fingers pushed against you, the way he carried this glint in his eye that you swore he held only for you. “Could say the same for you.”

Warren entered the room with open arms asking where his hug was. You placed a hand on Eddie’s cheek before pulling away to give Warren a much more casual hug. You’d spend a few hours with the two, mostly answering questions asked about what you had been up to, if you’d been booked lately, how long you would be around. Then the Dunne brothers had arrived and Graham had all but scooped you off the couch, the two of you laughing and quick to fall into step in order to catch up on everything you’d missed while being away. 

So now Eddie was stomping around the house like some big kid, making his annoyance known. And you picked up on it, watching from your peripheral as he paced around the kitchen, picking at the leftovers in the counter and cold beers in the fridge.

Graham leaned over to you, poking at your shoulder before whispering another joke into your ear that made you giggle.

“I’m going for a smoke.” Eddie muttered, slamming the fridge shut and walking out to the balcony. You bit your lip as he walked out, contemplating if you could go join him.

You went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Warren waltzed in and grabbed a box of cereal, pouring a bit into his hand and giving you a goofy smile.

“Hey, need help?” He pointed at the bottle in your hands which you handed to him gladly, glancing out the back door to Eddie who was leaning against the railing, the cigarette glowing a soft red against the low light.

“He’s had the biggest crush on you forever y’know?” Warren laughed, popping the lid of the bottle and returning back to his cereal.

You whipped your head around to look at Warren, eyes wide. “What?”

You asked, trying to figure out if you may have been hearing things. Warren was high, that's why he was eating cereal out of his hand and giggling like a mad man.

“Dude, you’ve never wondered why he always looks like a ray of sunshine everytime you come around? Or why is he the first one to get up and hug you like it’s the last time he’ll do it?” Warren shook his head, grinning. “That’s not just because he wants to.” Warren walked away, leaving you to consider what he told you.

One one hand, he was high, and giggly with or without the leaf. On the other hand, there was something about the way Eddie held you, the way he kept you near him even if some model or groupie had her arm slung around him.

Eddie looked back, quickly straightened up when he saw you coming through the door, smiling softly when you leaned against him. The two of you remained silent until you plucked the cigarette out of his hand, taking a hit of it before stomping it out under your foot.

“Those things will kill you, you know?” You asked, looking up at him. He smiled down at you and motioned towards the beer.

“You aren’t doing much better, how long do you think casting directors will let you get away with the drinking?” He teased, referring to the booked shoots you had told him and Warren about.

Your smile faltered a bit, something he was quick to pick up on. “What’s wrong love?”

“Oh Eddie,” you teared up but quickly wiped them away and bit your lip to try and deter the tears, “I haven’t gotten booked in months. My mom’s threatening to send my brothers to come get me, doesn’t want me to be up here anymore, not if I’m not working.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed as he hesitated to wrap his arms around you. You leaned against him, tears still rolling softly. His hands ran themselves against your hair, doing his best to comfort you. “Does Graham know?”

You nodded a yes. “It doesn’t matter. He thinks it would be good for me to see my family for a bit, and maybe stay there. I was never made for the California lifestyle like you guys.”

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. He pulled away from you, walking back towards the balcony. “Well that’s a shitty thing. Why would he encourage you to go back? Doesn’t he love you enough to try and keep you here, help you anyway he can?”

“You guys have so much going on with the band- I mean you’re on the brink of hitting it big, I don’t wanna be a bother either.”

“No.” Eddie walked back to you, gently taking your arms into his hands as he held you softly. “You could never be a bother okay? Not to me, never. I-” He hesitated, choosing his next words carefully. “I’d do anything to have you stay by my side. Anything.”

Your breath hitched. For a second you forgot that you and Eddie weren’t alone. You forgot that a few feet away your friends sat drinking and smoking and that the balcony wasn’t your own oasis to share with the boy you were sure you had loved since you were 16, the first time he performed on a stage that wasn’t set up in someone’s backyard and there had been something more than just a passion for the music.

“Eddie…I really like you.” You smiled, watching his face for any kind of reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed and he stepped back slightly. How could you say that? How could you admit that you had feelings when your boyfriend was sitting feet away from the two of you. “What about Graham?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.

You follow suit, looking back at the house then back at Eddie. “Why do you keep asking about him?”

Eddie stayed silent, a blush rising to his face as he pushed his hair out of his face, looking out towards the city. “I thought the two of you were going steady.”

You stood there not really sure how to react. You wanted to laugh, ask him if that’s why he’d been so sour the minute the Dunne’s had arrived. But the more overwhelming sense in you wanted to grab him and kiss him, show him that you and Graham had never been anything but best friends and that he’d been the one you thought about late at night. Eddie was the one that you had dreams and hopes for, more so than the boys you’d known since birth.

And so you did. Before you even knew it you captured Eddie’s lips against your own, your hand resting gently against his cheek as his hands found their way against the small of your back. And he smiled. He smiled against your lips like he was the happiest man in the world. When you both pulled away you looked up at him but his eyes remained closed.

“What’s wrong?” “Just scared I’ll open them and it’ll be a dream.”

You laughed, hitting against his chest softly. “Why didn’t you say anything?” “Was worried about losing you.”

“Hey”, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He looked down at you, his arms finding their way around your body, like it was the most natural thing to him. “Not one person is more important to me than you.”

[inawickedlittletown]

I'm On Trial Waiting 'til the Beat Comes Out (buddie one-shot)

Notes: To begin I want to say this fic was inspired by a post I saw on here a little while ago. So I want to give credit to that post and to @smilingbuckley for the premise. It was too funny not to write it. About halfway through writing this I also became aware that she had written and posted her own fic (which I will be reading asap).

Summary:

“There’s someone here to see you.”

“To see me?”

Bobby looked a little apprehensive. “Well, they want to start with you. Said they want to talk to all of us.”

Buck finished tying his left shoe. “Okay…but what is this about?”

“Professional Standards Division,” Bobby said. “Is there any reason they may need to speak with you, Buck?”

-

Internal Affairs is back at the 118, this time dealing with a more personal matter. The question at hand, are Buck and Eddie in a romantic relationship?

Words: 8,023

on Ao3

-

It happened on a Tuesday.

Buck was in the process of getting his shoes on, when Bobby rapped on the glass to catch his attention. He was ready to make excuses for why he’d arrived a little late, but Bobby spoke first.

“There’s someone here to see you.”

“To see me?” 

Bobby looked a little apprehensive. “Well, they want to start with you. Said they want to talk to all of us.”

Buck finished tying his left shoe. “Okay…but what is this about?” 

“Professional Standards Division,” Bobby said. “Is there any reason they may need to speak with you, Buck?” 

It had been nearly a month since their last visit from internal affairs. Buck thought that things had been fully cleared up especially after they all got praised for the acquisition of a chopper instead of promptly fired. He couldn’t imagine that it was somehow coming back around. He couldn’t think of anything else, unless there had been some kind of complaint. That did happen on occasion, but it didn’t require someone from the professional standards division to come down. Usually it was just a conversation with Bobby. 

“I have no idea,” Buck said. 

“Well, head up to my office,” Bobby said. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

Except that from the way he said it, Bobby clearly didn’t think it was nothing. He also definitely did not know what it was. 

Assistant Chief Gilbert was someone Buck had met maybe one time and it had definitely happened at a multi-alarm fire where everything was chaos and there was no time for real introductions. She sat behind Bobby’s desk, leaning back in the chair and eyes trained on a tablet. Her eyes flitted up when Buck entered, but returned back to the screen for a long moment. 

“Firefighter Buckley,” Assistant Chief Gilbert said.

“That’s me,” Buck said. 

She smiled, flashing very straight and very white teeth behind the red lips. “You can sit. I don’t think this will take long. It is necessary.” 

“May I ask what this is about?” Buck asked. 

Gilbert sat up, leaning forward. “Something has been brought to my attention that couldn’t be ignored. There is a reason that family members working for the LAFD don’t usually belong to the same firehouse, why it’s a bit murky when things like this do happen.” 

“If this is about Chim and I — I mean, he’s not even my brother-in-law yet. And shouldn’t he be—”

She cut him off with a shake of her head. “No, Firefighter Buckley, this is not about Firefighter Han. This is about you and Firefighter Diaz.” 

Buck had no response to that. His mouth was open, but no words came out. He could only stare at her, surprised and shocked because…what did he and Eddie have to do with anything. 

“Eddie and I aren’t related,” Buck said, when he finally found words. 

“That is not what I’m saying,” Gilbert said. “What has come into question is the existence of a romantic relationship between you and Firefighter Diaz. It has been observed and documented and there are just too many instances that have made this a concern. So now, there are questions to ask to determine if keeping you at the 118 is viable.” 

“No,” Buck said with a shake of his head. “We’re…no, we aren’t together. He’s my best friend. Nothing more. I don’t know why anyone would think we’re dating. That’s crazy.” 

Gilbert frowned. She touched her tablet and seemed to scroll. “For now, I have a few questions. This is an investigation, Firefighter Buckley, and for now we have to go through procedure.” 

“Right,” Buck said. 

No one ever talked about the politics behind the LAFD. The hierarchy that was put in place so that the whole thing ran smoothly and all the divisions that made it all possible. Buck was but a speck in the whole grand scheme. 

“Are you and Eddie Diaz in a relationship of a romantic nature?” 

“No.”

“But you are very close. Close enough that you would take guardianship of Eddie’s son if the worst happened?” 

“That’s true, but…”

She waved him off. “Is it also true that everyone considers you the boy’s second parent?”

“Not really. At least, I didn’t think they did.” 

“Does Eddie?” 

“Uh. No.” 

“Is it true that when Firefighter Diaz was shot, you took care of his son?”

Buck nodded.

“Is it also true that you are on his son’s emergency calls list?”

“I guess so,” Buck said. “But, any one of us could have stepped in to take care of Chris. That time it happened to be me.” 

“Moving on from that, is there a reason that the two of you carpool nearly every day into work?”

“To save on gas money and pollute less?” Buck said and it came out like a question. “And it’s not every day. It’s happened every once in a while.”

“According to your files, carpooling doesn’t make sense unless you’ve moved. Are you in the habit of sleeping at each other’s places?” 

Her stare was piercing as if she was waiting for Buck to give up and tell her what she wanted to hear. 

“Sometimes I crash at his house after babysitting his kid. Or when it’s too late and I’m too tired to drive to my apartment.”

She made a humming noise. 

“Many saw the incident a few years ago with the well. Your reaction when Diaz cut the rope was well documented. It was all over the news. I just find it interesting that you are clearly so emotionally involved.”

Buck let out a breath. “He’s my best friend.”

“It’s not just on your end. His reaction when you were struck by lighting cannot be ignored. Not to mention everything that occurred during the tsunami. I am well aware of how closely firefighters work, the familial relationship that can develop through the shared experiences, but you two are different. So, the truth now, Firefighter Buckley, how long have you and Firefighter Diaz been dating?” 

“We’re not,” Buck said. “Eddie is my best friend. He has a girlfriend and until about a month ago so did I. This is insane, you can ask anyone, we are not dating.” And out of some sort of desperation, he threw out: “In fact, you can ask Tommy Kinard.”

Gilbert looked thoughtfully at him. “That is your final answer,” she said with a hum. “I will be speaking to everyone in the firehouse as well as Firefighter Diaz. We will get the truth and there will be consequences if anyone is lying.” 

“I’m not,” Buck said. 

—

“Can you describe your relationship with Firefighter Buckley,” Assistant Chief Gilbert said. 

“Well we work together and I consider him my closest friend,” Eddie said. 

“Right. So, you spend a lot of time together outside of work.” 

Chief Gilbert had that quality about her that explained exactly how she had made it to the position she had and perhaps even how she was involved in the Professional Standards Division. It was in the way her eyes narrowed, looking like a disappointed parent waiting for their kid to come clean. 

“I mean, how much time do you spend with your best friend?” Eddie shot back. “Considering the amount of hours that we work, we do spend quite a bit of time together outside of work. I also see a lot of Hen and Chim. We’re all very close.” 

She nodded. “Okay. So I’m here to get to the bottom of things and there are a few things I’d be glad to have cleared up.”

“Sure,” Eddie said. 

“You changed your will, at least in regards to your son,” Gilbert said. “You named Firefighter Buckley as guardian to your son in the event that you couldn’t care for him.”

“That’s true,” Eddie said. “There is no one else I would trust with my son. I see nothing wrong with that.”

“There isn’t. I just find it curious when you have living parents and siblings.”

Eddie nodded. “You haven’t met them,” he said with a slight smile. “And my son has CP. It’s not a burden, but that does mean that he is not like other kids. My sisters have their own lives and kids. My parents are only getting older and Chris requires more than they could give him. Not to mention they are all in Texas away from his friends and his school and everything I’ve worked very hard to set up for him.”

Chief Gilbert actually smiled at that. “You believe Evan Buckley would be best for your son.” 

“Absolutely,” Eddie said. 

“Is that because the two of you are dating?” 

Eddie chuckled. “We’re not,” he said. “For one thing, I have a girlfriend. For another, Buck is straight.”

She eyed him for a moment and Eddie couldn’t identify what he was seeing. It was as if she was holding back from saying something. 

“I’ll even give you Marisol’s number. She’ll be happy to talk to you.”

Chief Gilbert nodded. “That would be helpful.”

Eddie looked through his phone and Chief Gilbert handed him a piece of paper. “I am curious why this is coming up now? Was there a complaint or something that made the division concerned?”

She took the paper when Eddie handed it back to her. “I’m not at liberty to say. What I can say is that some have observed your closeness and they are concerned.” 

“Some,” Eddie said. “Did this happen at a call? Was this—”

“I really can’t say, Firefighter Diaz. I will ask once more, are you and Firefighter Buckley in a romantic relationship? Just know that there will be consequences if we find out you have been lying to us. This is the time to come clean.” 

“We are not dating,” Eddie said. 

She hummed in response. Eddie stood to go. It had been mostly painless, if perhaps insulting to have someone think that he was lying about something so major. That he and Buck could be dating under everyone’s noses and managing to keep it to themselves. 

He had made it to the door, before he decided to turn back. “What happens now?” 

“We will be investigating this further. If you and Buckley are just friends then nothing. We will be speaking to everyone at the station, as well as a few others.” 

Eddie gave a nod and then he walked out. 

—

Having dealt with internal affairs during her tenure as a temporary Captain, Hen couldn’t say that it hadn’t unnerved her when Bobby said someone wanted to speak to her. 

“Is this about that guy again?” Hen asked. 

“Nope,” Bobby said. 

“This better not be about the going out to find the cruise ship thing.” 

“Better if you just go and talk to the Assistant Chief.” 

Hen narrowed her eyes. She had spent most of the beginning of her shift going through the stock of supplies on the ambulance and hadn’t even been aware that anyone from the Professional Standards Division was present in the firehouse. If she had, maybe she would have been more prepared. She wondered who they had already spoken to. 

“Fine,” Hen said. “Have you spoken to them yet?” 

Bobby shook his head. “Not yet.” 

“So you don’t even know what this is about,” Hen said. 

Exactly because she had known Bobby that long, Hen could tell that he was bothered by the whole thing too. 

“She’s waiting in my office,” Bobby said. 

Hen headed up. Assistant Chief Gilbert was someone Hen was actually very familiar with. When Hen first met her she’d been rising in the ranks, becoming the Captain of her own firehouse at a time when Hen was only just getting her feet at the 118. Athena had introduced them and impressed upon Hen how much the job wasn’t an all boys club. 

“I admit, I didn’t expect you,” Hen said. “How are you, Amelia?” 

“I’m well. And you?” 

“Good. I guess I'm confused. What is this all about?” 

Amelia motioned towards the chairs in front of Bobby’s desk and Hen took a seat, lifting an eyebrow in question. 

“Well,” Amelia said, “we have reason to believe that Firefighter Buckley and Diaz are involved in a romantic relationship.” 

Hen couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Wait…wait, what? Buck and Eddie…no, that’s definitely not true.” 

Amelia relaxed back into the chair. “This isn’t a joke, Hen, there really is a concern.” 

“Well, there shouldn’t be. Buck is like one big giant puppy that’s finally found a friend willing to deal with all his excitement. Not to mention there is no way that boy is in any way queer. The amount of women he’s slept with. It’s gross. He broke up with his latest girlfriend a little over a month ago. I would know if he was into men…and I would definitely know if he and Eddie were a thing.” 

Amelia made a humming noise that made Hen narrow her eyes in suspicion. Was there something that she was missing? 

“Where is this coming from?” 

“It’s coming from a place of concern. Look, workplace romances…they happen. They just cannot be allowed to interfere with the work. We’re firefighters and that means our work is life or death. I’m just here doing what I need to do in order to be sure everything is running without issue.”

Hen nodded. “I understand that. I do. I also know they’re not dating and that the two of them work better together than apart. I would know, I was their Captain for a time. There’s trust and there is a connection that is only forged by doing our type of work. It’s like me and Chim. They are just best friends.” 

“Could you say that with 100% certainty?” 

Instead of answering, Hen shot a question of her own. It wasn’t that she was doubting Eddie and Buck or even questioning if in some way they were managing to pull off such a lie, it was just that LAFD wouldn’t involve themselves in such an investigation without something to go off of. 

“Why are you so certain they are dating?” 

“I’m not,” Amelia said. “It’s all the little things adding up.” 

“Such as?” 

Hen wasn’t sure if Amelia would tell her anything, but then Amelia leaned forward on the desk. 

“Okay, to start it seems like they are raising a child together more like two parents than a parent and a friend or uncle. There is all the time they spend together in and out of work. There’s the many incidents where one has been in danger and the other has acted rashly. They are each other’s emergency contact other than your Captain. Diaz has made Buckley his kid’s guardian in the event that he is incapable of caring for him.”

Hen sighed. “That doesn’t really add up to anything. It just shows they’re really close. Come on, Amelia, you’re not insinuating that they are deliberately lying to everyone about dating. Buck is a horrible secret keeper and so is Eddie.”

Amelia looked, if nothing else, a tad apologetic. “Having spoken to them, no, I don’t actually believe they are dating and lying about it. I do have to conduct all the interviews. But from one lesbian to another, maybe they should be?” 

At that, Hen burst into laughter. She couldn’t stop laughing. The very idea that Buck and Eddie could be together like that seemed hilarious even though…well, they did do all the things that couples did. Whenever the 118 got together outside of work — usually at Bobby and Athena’s — no one was surprised when Hen arrived with Karen, Chim with Maddie, and then Buck with Eddie. 

Then there was…well, Hen and Chim had joked about it at the time, but Eddie had been really bothered when Buck was with Taylor. Eddie hadn’t been too happy when Buck got together with Natalia. He had disapproved of Buck being a sperm donor. If Hen didn’t know better — which she did, thank you very much — then Eddie had been jealous. And as for Buck…wasn’t he possessive of Eddie at times?

She must have been silent for too long, because Amelia coughed. 

“You see it too, don’t you?” 

Hen shook her head. “I see what you mean…but I don’t think that they’re together or that they have feelings for each other. I mean, are either of them even into men?” 

Amelia lifted her hands placatingly. “Maybe pay them some more attention. I’ll move on to my next interview. Give my best to Karen.” 

“Will do. We’ll do dinner or something soon.” 

Amelia nodded with a smile. “I’m never wrong, Hen,” she added as Hen made it to the door. 

—

Chim was on the phone with Maddie when Bobby motioned for him to go with him. He got off the phone with a quick goodbye and put his attention on Bobby. 

“What’s up, Bobby?” 

“Your turn,” Bobby said. 

Chim had seen Assistant Chief Gilbert arrive, but he’d kept his curiosity to himself while Bobby talked to her and then watched as Buck headed into the office. He’d come out with a frown, a bemused look on his face. It had been especially telling that something happened because Buck didn’t go find Eddie and instead he walked elsewhere. Then, he saw Bobby send Eddie in. He came out shaking his head. Hen went in, took the longest, and then came out smiling. 

“What’s this all about, Bobby?” 

“Just go in there, Chim.” 

Assistant Chief Gilbert was looking at a tablet when he walked in. Chim took a seat and waited for her to be done. 

“Firefighter Han, I hear congratulations are in order. You’re getting married soon.” 

Chim grinned. “Thank you. We’re deep in the planning stages.” 

Chief Gilbert nodded. “I know that you’re marrying Maddie Buckley. You work with her brother, Firefighter Buckley.” 

“That’s correct.”

“So out of anyone in this firehouse, you should have the most contact with Firefighter Buckley. He is your fiance’s brother and uncle to your daughter. So, you would know if he were dating someone.” 

Chim was becoming more and more confused. This was not going in any direction that he could have predicted. 

“Sure, but Buck wears his heart on his sleeve and isn’t shy with sharing sometimes more than any of us want to know. And no, he’s not dating anyone. His last girlfriend lasted a few months. Before that was Taylor Kelly…the guy doesn’t have the best taste. And I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure he hooked up with Tommy.”

Chief Gilbert raised an eyebrow. “So, he and Firefighter Diaz aren’t in a romantic relationship?” 

Chim knew suddenly exactly why Hen had been so amused when she was leaving the office. He barely held back a laugh. “Oh…now this is something I won’t be dropping any time soon. You seriously believe Buck and Eddie are dating. That’s…yeah, no, that’s not possible.” 

Chief Gilbert sighed. “So I’ve been told.”

“They’re very close,” Chim said. “There is no denying that, but they aren’t involved. They’re just the type of friends that no one really has past childhood. You know, the best friend that you need in order to do anything…attached at the hip. That’s them. They are never going to live this down, though.” 

“Your fiance would say the same?” Gilbert asked

Chim nodded. “Just think of them this way, they could both get married to other people and somehow they will still spend more time with each other than with their wives. That’s just Buck and Eddie.” 

Gilbert shook her head. “If my wife spent more time with someone else I’d be concerned, wouldn’t you.”

“Well, yeah,” Chim said. “I see your point.” 

“I do want one more thing answered.”

“Sure,” Chim said. 

“What do you think about how close they are? I mean to say, has it ever affected their work?”

“They’re close. We’re all close. And no, it has never affected the way we do our jobs. I dare you to find any firehouse where the firefighters don’t consider themselves family. Buck and Eddie work well together, they barely have to speak to know what the other is thinking…no one is safer than when the two of them are performing a rescue.”

“That’s all I needed to hear, Firefighter Han. I will be in touch with your wife.”

“I won’t even tell her you’re coming,” Chim said. 

Chief Gilbert rolled her eyes. “One last thing, could you see a romantic relationship forming between them at any time.” 

“I — well, I don’t know. I mean, if the Tommy thing happened then Buck isn’t as straight as I thought—”

“This is Firefighter Tommy Kinard?”

Chim nodded. “But I don’t know for sure that anything happened. It was just a vibe.”

—

Ravi gave Amelia a curious and rambling answer when asked about Buck and Eddie: “Well, when I was new they were all kind of a legend and I did think they were maybe together and no one talked about it. I mean, you’ve seen Buck, right? He’s a bisexual disaster. But then there was the blackout and I met Ana. I thought she was Eddie’s wife and Chris’ mom. I was wrong…but that kind of ended right after the blackout. And when Eddie was working at dispatch, Buck was kinda difficult to work with. They’re super co-dependent and I think Eddie really had something against Taylor. To be honest, I’m pretty sure they hate each other’s girlfriends. Of course, the whole Natalia thing was weird because she’s a freaking death doula. Like what is the point of that, right? And I don’t think Eddie and Marisol are gonna last much longer either. She stopped by the other day and there was just some kind of tension. Does that answer the question?” 

Amelia didn’t know what to say to all the information given to her, so she just nodded. “So they aren’t dating now?”

“No. No. They would make a good couple though…right? Buck’s practically already Chris’ dad. He even signs his permission slips sometimes when Eddie forgets. And I know Chris’ school called him instead of Eddie once when Chris was sick.”

After Ravi came other interviews. She spoke to almost every firefighter at the 118 from both shifts. Answers ranged. Some were staunchly against the idea that Buck and Eddie could be anything other than platonic, some shared their own insights to how Buck and Eddie were perceived. A couple were even sure that of course they were dating and had been for a while. Someone even brought up what had been dubbed as “the divorce” when Buck had filed a lawsuit against LAFD and Eddie was angry and sullen for days specifically about not being able to speak to Buck because of it. 

In some ways, it made her day far more amusing than most, and yet there was probably a pile growing back at her desk that she could have been taking care of. 

—

When Assistant Chief Gilbert arrived, Bobby had been surprised. He was even more surprised when she gave him very little explanation other than informing him they were investigating something and that he needed to see each of his firefighters starting with Buck. He watched as each of them walked in to see her. Some interviews went on for a while and others ended quickly. 

By the time that Bobby was called into the office, she had spoken to everyone and they were several hours into their shift. He wasn’t surprised at the lack of calls, assuming that dispatch had been told to not send any their way unless really necessary. It had to be serious. 

“Captain Nash,” Gilbert said. 

“You can call me Bobby,” he said. 

“Bobby, then,” she said. “I did not expect to meet you under these circumstances, but here we are.” 

“Here we are,” Bobby said. “And why are we here?” 

He could tell that she was tired. She had hardly left his office since she arrived, he figured she probably had to be hungry or thirsty.

“I held off on talking to you, Captain, because I wanted to get to Firefighter Buckley and Diaz first. There has been an allegation that they are involved in a romantic relationship. And upon our initial investigation it did seem like that was a possibility. They have denied it. So has mostly everyone we’ve spoken to. As far as I’m concerned, I believe they are telling the truth. What do you think?”

“I think I want to know where that allegation comes from,” Bobby said. “They aren’t dating. I know my people, Chief Gilbert, and if they did ever become involved, they would have told me. Not just because I don’t think either of them could keep it secret, but because they know the importance of the job.”

Gilbert sighed. “We had to look into it. If you recall, a month or so back there was a different investigation involving Firefighter Wilson — Captain Wilson at the time.”

“I’m aware,” Bobby said. 

It had been one of the many things he and Athena had gotten back to after the failure that had been their honeymoon cruise. He thought that Hen had handled everything perfectly. Most especially in regards to the rescue she had enacted that saved him, Athena, and several others right on the heels of that.  

“Someone had a concern after that night. As far as I know they were interviewed together and they were observed to be a little too close. They started to investigate and then there was a complaint that came through. There is one other thing, Taylor Kelly’s book. I’ve emailed you the file.” 

Bobby tried to hold in the sigh. “That book is drivel,” he said. 

“Perhaps,” Gilbert allowed. “That doesn’t change that she had a particular insight into this firehouse due to her relationship with Firefighter Buckley.” 

“Can’t deny that,” Bobby said. “And that very relationship should tell you he and Eddie are not together.” 

Gilbert looked more amused than anything. “At this point, I think you are all hiding their relationship fairly well or that they are just that oblivious.”

Bobby blinked at her. “What does that—”

“Nevermind,” Gilbert said. “I think I have everything I need. I also expect that once they do figure out they’re head over heels you will have the right forms filled out and filed. Retaining professionalism while at work will keep them both at the 118. If there is one thing I’ve taken away it’s that they really do make a great team.”

—

After her interview, Maddie was still wiping tears of laughter. She was also rethinking a few interactions. Her brother had never said it, but that didn’t change how she had caught him watching other guys back when he was a teenager. Not that he had ever pursued a relationship with a guy. Maddie had her suspicions about the influence their parents had had on Buck. She also had her suspicions about Buck and that guy that helped rescue Bobby and Athena.

And then there was how flustered he’d gotten that time shortly after Maddie had arrived in LA when Eddie’s name came up. She had to remember that Buck and Eddie had only just met then. There was no one that could deny Eddie was hot. Her brother certainly couldn’t have ignored it. 

Chim had told her at one point about how Buck had reacted to Eddie at first and suddenly she was starting to wonder. 

It had been years since then, but sometimes infatuation didn’t fade. Buck and Eddie were really close. They were both too dumb to try and hide a relationship…but maybe they were both dumb enough to hide what they felt about each other from each other — and everyone else. 

Seeing as her interview took place at dispatch, Maddie had wound up telling Josh all about it. 

“That is wild,” Josh said. “I always did suspect your brother could be attracted to men. You know, I thought you were trying to set us up that one time, but then I kinda figured I had no chance because he was so into Eddie.” 

“Really,” Maddie said. 

“Yes. And it’s not like he doesn’t have a chance.”

Maddie needed to talk to Chim. Maybe even Hen. They had to compare stories. 

—

Athena heard about it from Hen when she and Karen were over. 

“I think Amelia has a point,” Karen said. “Eddie has always given me a bit of a not-straight vibe.”

“Really?” Hen asked. “I don’t think so.” 

“Oh, come on,” Karen said and she looked between them. “Then again, you were married to a gay man and had kids with him and you have always had horrible gaydar. Remember how shocked you were the first time we ran into that guy that used to work at the 118. What was his name—”

“Tommy,” Hen said, thoughtfully. 

“Kinard?” Athena asked. “But he’s not—”

“He was making out with a guy,” Hen said. “Yeah, I was surprised too.”

“Huh,” Athena said with a laugh. “Fair enough. But that doesn’t change that Buck and Eddie are not a couple.” 

“Currently,” Karen said. “But if I were an outside party looking in, it wouldn’t be a hard stretch.”

It was a hard thing to wrap her head around, and yet she knew that Karen had a point. It was just that sometimes she did still think about Buck like the dumb kid that didn’t know to keep his mouth shut. The one that slept with anything that walked and that grew into someone she could respect. Then again, maybe it did make sense. Athena did have her experience with Michael to go off of. Maybe Eddie was the same. Maybe he had decided to push that part of himself down in order to prioritize being a father. 

Over the years she had gotten to know a lot about the firefighters from the 118 and she admired Eddie for his efforts as a single father. Her own experience as a mother had made her conscious of how much Eddie put on himself and so she knew with perfect clarity how much Buck shouldered for Eddie. It wasn’t surprising that someone looking in could see them as a family unit. Maybe they were. 

“What I want to know,” Athena said, “is why this is in question now.” 

“Amelia didn’t say,” Hen said. “I think someone else in the division raised the question the last time they were at the station.” 

Athena nodded. She didn’t like the sound of that. It was one thing if something had happened out on a call. She wouldn’t have been concerned if the whole thing came up after Buck did something seriously risky just because he could and it was tied somehow to Eddie’s well being. That was practically normal for them. This was seemingly out of nowhere and if it originated with internal affairs then someone up high had some biases they had to check. 

“Maybe Bobby knows more,” Hen said looking just past Athena where her husband was surely standing. 

“Knows more about what?” 

“About the whole thing with internal affairs,” Athena supplied. 

Bobby’s smile was amused. “Well, she doesn’t think they’re actually together. Someone from internal affairs did have some suspicion. They were interviewed together and they raised some flags. She also mentioned Taylor Kelly’s book.”

Hen snorted out a laugh. “Taylor’s book. Wouldn’t that prove that Buck has awful taste in women.”

“She sent me the file,” Bobby said. “I guess she wanted me to know where it was all coming from.”

“And?” Karen said, leaning forward.

Bobby smiled. Athena was almost sure that he was going to deny them the info due to some sort of confidentiality thing. 

“There was a complaint. It came from someone at a call. A week or so back. I don’t know what call it came from but they observed Buck and Eddie being a bit too close and decided it was unprofessional. Looking at what they wrote, it wasn’t the closeness they were complaining about as much as the idea that it was two men.” 

Athena felt a jolt of anger go through her. Of all the things…that was not what she expected. She could tell that Bobby felt the same way. Hen and Karen had their own restrained anger. In their line of work they encountered so many people, it was hard to avoid the bigots. Having to rise up and be the bigger person against someone racist, homophobic, and so many other things. 

“And they took that seriously,” Hen said. “Seriously enough to investigate?” 

Bobby nodded. “Well, I don’t know what they saw or heard the night they questioned everyone the last time they were at the firehouse. Chief Gilbert just says even in her file that someone raised some concern.” 

“And Taylor’s book,” Karen said. “What about that?” 

“There are some listed chapters and pages. I don’t know.” 

“Maybe it’s time one of us read it,” Hen said. 

—

“So, it’s all over?” Buck asked. 

He and Eddie were seated across from Bobby. They hadn’t even made it out of their street clothes before Bobby was pulling them into the office. Buck hadn’t known what to expect, but it had been a few days since the initial investigation began and he was ready to hear how it ended. 

“Basically, yes,” Bobby said. “They’ve concluded that they were wrong and that you are not romantically involved.” 

“Good,” Eddie said. “Because we are not.” 

Buck gave his own nod. 

“Is that all?” 

“No,” Bobby said. “I wanted you to know the reason why they made that assumption.” 

“What is it?” Eddie asked. 

Buck leaned closer, paying close attention to Bobby. 

“Someone made a complaint after a call we responded to. The complaint had nothing to do with our response or the level of care. It was about your closeness to each other. It mentioned perceived inappropriate touching and flirting and they overheard you talking about Chris. Whatever the conversation was, it led them to believe you were a couple. This person then took it upon themselves to complain. It was uncalled for, biased, and it wouldn’t have happened if you were a man and woman.” 

“Wow,” Eddie said. “That’s insane.” 

Buck just shook his head. “A homophobe strikes again.” 

“There’s more,” Bobby said. 

“What else could there be?” Eddie asked.

When Buck looked at his direction, he could see Eddie fidgeting with his hands. It had been strange, the last few days. The thing was that Buck was still a bit shaken about the whole thing. Not that it happened or that he and Eddie were questioned. After all, if one wasn’t guilty, one had nothing to fear. It was that it had brought a few things forward in his mind. Things that Buck used to explain away…that he had literally just shoved down and ignored. Things like how ridiculously attractive he found Eddie. And how maybe his desire to belong somewhere that had made him jump at the chance to be so involved with Christopher and Eddie wasn’t just because he wanted to belong anywhere, but because his family was Chris and Eddie.  

Buck found Bobby looking at him. 

“What is it?” 

“Have you read Taylor’s book?” 

Buck shook his head. “She sent me a copy. Even signed it. It’s probably still sitting on my bookshelf gathering dust. Why?” 

“Internal affairs used it as evidence,” Bobby said. 

Buck couldn’t help but laugh. Eddie next to him was silent. Even though he had never said it, Buck knew that Eddie had been happy after Buck and Taylor were over. The whole thing had been some attempt at having someone and she was someone that knew him and accepted him. It was just that Buck had forgotten how she could be and focused instead on the vulnerabilities she had shown. 

“No wonder this went nowhere,” Buck said. “I guess I’m glad it’s all over.” 

“Me too,” Eddie said. 

“I think we all are,” Bobby said. “Go get changed before a call comes through.” 

Buck followed Eddie out. They hadn’t talked about it. The day of the interview, Buck had been left overthinking everything and then after Assistant Chief Gilbert left, they’d had several calls to keep them busy. By the time their shift was over, Hen and Chim had been teasing them about the whole thing and it had just been easier to laugh about it. So, they just didn’t talk about it. 

Instead, they went home and the next night when Buck went over to Eddie’s, Christopher was around and there was no point in bringing it up. 

“It’s a little funny,” Buck said as they made their way down to the locker room. “Them using Taylor’s book.”

Eddie turned back to look at Buck. “You really haven’t read it?” 

“Nope. I’m curious now, like what could she have put in there about us.”

“I don’t know if I want to know,” Eddie said. “Can you believe how seriously they took that complaint, though? It’s insulting. It wasn’t about the job…it was just some bystander observing us and making a judgment based on their own biases.”

“It’s crazy,” Buck said. 

They had changed around each other so often that it was normal for Buck to just strip off his shirt in front of Eddie. He caught Eddie’s eyes as he reached for the door to his locker and saw the moment that Eddie’s eyes went lower, looking at his bare chest. Buck didn’t move, frozen as Eddie seemed to check him out. When his gaze went back up to Buck’s face, his eyes widened as he realized what he’d been caught doing. That was followed by his face going just lightly red. 

“I—” Eddie began and coughed. 

Buck finished dressing, letting Eddie have his dignity while in his mind he tried to figure out what he could say. 

No sooner had they both finished getting into their uniforms before the call came and they were rushing to the truck. It would have to wait. 

They were called to a car accident. Minor injuries, but one of the drivers was trapped in her car and he and Eddie worked together to get the door off and help her get out. Considering the last few days, they kept some distance and spoke only about their task. 

By the time they got back to the firehouse, Bobby needed Buck’s help with preparing lunch and Buck thought that Eddie looked a little relieved. He felt a little of that too, even while deeply aware of the tension between them. 

“What’s going on, Buck?” Bobby asked. 

Buck took a breath. He had known all the way back when he was a teenager that saying anything about how interesting he was suddenly finding the boys in his class alongside the girls wouldn’t go over well with his parents. And since girls were just as appealing, Buck had leaned into that far more. It was only after he’d left home that Buck had given himself the permission to explore. It had always been lowkey — hook ups and one-night stands. Never anything serious. Not even his last hook up with a guy. With Tommy Kinard. 

“Bobby, I’m bi,” Buck said. 

Bobby set down the knife he was holding, turning entirely to look at Buck. “Thank you for telling me.”

Buck let out a breath. “I’ve never really told anyone before.”

“Why not?”

Buck shrugged his shoulders. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re telling me now. Can I ask what brought this along?” 

Buck didn’t answer for a while. He looked around at everything that Bobby had set out but couldn’t actually connect it all to anything in particular. 

“I guess it’s about Eddie,” Buck said. 

Bobby hid his reaction well, but Buck knew that he was likely shocked. “Is this because of the investigation?” 

“Yeah. I just…I guess when you’re in the middle of it you don’t really notice. He’s the person I look to, you know, like I rely on him. And I know he does the same for me. There’s Christopher. There’s all the things we do together, we’ve been pretty much going on dates every single week for the last who knows how long. I’m at his house more than my own. What if…what if we are in a relationship and it’s not that we’ve been lying to everyone or keeping it hidden, but that we’ve been lying to ourselves too.” 

Bobby grasped him by the shoulders. “I think you need to talk to Eddie. Do you have feelings for him?”

Buck let out a huff. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then you know what you want. And the one thing I didn’t tell you earlier is that Chief Gilbert will fully support you if you do start to date. She won’t make either of you leave the firehouse.” 

Buck hadn’t even been worried about that, but he was glad that he didn’t need to be concerned. It wouldn’t have stopped him, he realized, if one of them did have to transfer to another firehouse. 

“Now, come on we have to get this food ready.” 

“Thanks, Bobby.” 

—

He was spotting for Chim and trying his hardest to forget about that moment in the locker room when his eyes had lingered for too long on Buck. It was just that usually Eddie tried not to look, he tried not to show his appreciation for his best friend’s body. He would have to be blind to not know how gorgeous Buck was…made even more so by his personality. Buck was unattainable, though. 

“You’re distracted,” Chim said. 

“I guess,” Eddie said. “I’m just in my head about the whole thing with Chief Gilbert.” 

Chim grinned. “I still think it’s hilarious. Of all the things they would want to investigate, that’s what they go for. Did you guys ever find out why.”

“Some homophobe made a complaint. And someone that came here the night they were looking into Hen thought we were a little too close. And something to do with Taylor’s book.”

“Wow,” Chim said. 

“Yup,” Eddie said. 

“It’s crazy, but you know, you and Buck are really close. It wouldn’t be the worst thing…”

It would be the best thing. If he allowed himself to, Eddie could picture it. Buck already fit so perfectly in his life — in Christopher’s life. And how much would change between them? The physical aspect…the fact that Eddie could hold Buck, could kiss Buck, could take Buck into his bedroom and explore every inch of his skin? 

“He’s not into men,” Eddie said. 

Chim turned fully around to face him. “Are you into men?” 

Eddie knew he was blushing again. “I’m…I mean I’ve never but yes. Yes.”

Chim grinned widely at him. “I think shoot your shot, Diaz.” 

“I just might,” Eddie said. 

The next time he saw Buck, it was at lunch. They sat next to each other as usual and Buck didn’t shy away from Eddie. Instead, it seemed like he was sitting even closer than was normal for them. 

They went on a few calls after lunch. A little boy stuck in a tree, a hit and run, and a grease fire at a restaurant. One of their less hectic days. By the time they were changing back out of the uniform, Eddie felt nervous. He grabbed Buck’s arm as they were stepping out, realizing that even if this wasn’t pressing he still probably would have wanted to spend time with Buck after work. 

Buck turned to look at him with a smile. 

“Do you think…can I come over?”

“Sure,” Buck said. His eyes were glinting. It made Eddie want to lose himself in looking into them. “Want me to drive?” 

Eddie nodded. He was distracted the whole way there, keeping his eyes away from Buck and wondering just how badly he was about to wreck his friendship with Buck. He followed Buck up to his apartment in the same way. Eddie had always liked Buck’s apartment. It was just simple and very very Buck. He felt his nerves ease as they walked in.

“Beer?” Buck asked. 

“Sure.”

—

Buck took as long as he could getting them beer out of the fridge. He found Eddie had wandered out to the balcony and it felt as good place as any. Devoid of distractions in some ways. When he stepped out, Eddie turned to look at him and Buck smiled as he handed him one of the bottles. Buck set his own down by the foot of his chair. Eddie took a gulp and Buck watched his throat, the way that his adam’s apple moved. 

“This has been an interesting week,” Buck said.

“I’d say,” Eddie said. “Made me think, though.” 

Buck’s eyes didn’t waver from Eddie. He could see something like hesitation, and something like hopefulness. 

“Me too,” Buck said. “I didn’t think about it, you know, we’re just kinda like that.”

“Right,” Eddie said. “And what if…what if—”

Buck reached over, grabbing Eddie’s hand. They touched all the time, a hand on a shoulder, a pat on the back, even a hug on occasion. Touching his hand felt different, charged. 

“What if they’re kinda right,” Buck said. 

Eddie let out a breath. “Yeah.” He turned his hand, palm up and Buck’s fingers intertwined with his. “Buck, next to Christopher, you are the most important person in my life.”

“Oh,” Buck said. 

Maybe it wasn’t insane to think it could work, that they could take their friendship to a whole other level where all the things they did together and for each other actually meant everything. It wasn’t hard to imagine.

“I’m…I care about you, Eddie,” Buck said. “I think this could work. Us.”

Eddie was the one to lean over, hovering so close to Buck and waiting for Buck to react one way or another. Buck was the one to push forward and draw Eddie into a kiss. It felt right. Buck by his own admittance had kissed a lot of people. More women than men, and there was a difference, but kissing Eddie was just more. 

Despite having been the one to start the kiss, it was Eddie that led it. He sped it up, or slowed it down. He was the one to lick the seam of Buck’s lips and to lick in and Buck lost all thought. He could taste the beer Eddie had drunk and he lost his mind because it was hard to process that it was actually happening. 

Eddie pulled away, but he was slow to do so, staying so close that their breaths mingled and that their noses brushed when Buck moved back. He knew that he was smiling wide and that it wasn’t a smile that was going to go away any time soon. Their hands were still entwined and Buck felt grounded by it, knew everything was real because he could feel Eddie. He pulled Eddie out of his chair by pulling at their joint hands and Eddie followed inside wordlessly. 

They didn’t make it too far before Eddie stopped and pulled Buck to him, wrapping him up in a hug that led to kisses down Buck’s jaw and then their lips meeting again. He could get lost to the feeling of Eddie pressed against him…to the experience as a whole. Eddie’s smell, his taste, the way that they fit together. 

—

“What are we going to do now?” Eddie asked. 

Buck, from the driver’s seat glanced over. They were just five minutes away from the firehouse. 

“I mean, with work. Are we going to have to actually hide this?” 

Buck laughed. “Now that would really get us fired.”

“I’m serious,” Eddie said. 

“We’ll have to fill out some forms,” Buck said. “It’s not a big deal. The big deal is we finally figured this out.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed. 

—

Assistant Chief Gilbert was not surprised when she saw the email with the newly signed workplace romance paperwork sent from Captain Nash. It was quicker than even she’d expected. 

[emetoniche]

Sushi Gone Wrong

Okie dokie guys, got that food poisoning fic up for ya’ll. It’s a long one, but it was worth the extra time spent writing. It turned out pretty good. It’s the first one I have all four of them together, but I’m hoping to do some more like that in the future.

tw: emeto, some very light scat (not even for more than a couple paragraphs, I don’t usually do scat, but this seemed to fit with the theme. Also, torturing Justin is my favorite hobby. He’s my babyyyy)

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Justin was excited about his date that night. Roan had been looking for a good sushi place for ages, and he was over the moon that he was the one who had finally found one. The restaurant, called Sushi Don, came highly recommended by Justin’s best friend Eddie, and his Eddie’s boyfriend Callum. Apparently, the two boys visited the place at least once a month, so they clearly knew what they were talking about. Eddie had reserved a table for four, at six o’clock that night: a double date. It was a Saturday, so classes were out and homework had been finished in the campus library earlier that morning. A relaxing evening was the perfect end to the week in Justin’s opinion.

Roan slid into the passenger seat of Justin’s silver Toyota, dressed in a stylish pair of black skinny jeans and a soft, white halter-top. Around her neck was a silver necklace with a tiny diamond charm on the end, and her dark hair was loose, but fell perfectly around her face in waves. Justin couldn’t help staring at her for a few moments. Even after the two years of being together, sometimes he still couldn’t get over how gorgeous his girlfriend was. Roan caught him staring and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Are you gonna stare at me all night, or are we actually going out?” Her tone was playfully sarcastic, and she was smirking slightly at him as she spoke. Justin laughed, putting the car in reverse to back out of the driveway.

“Yeah, yeah,” he retorted, “we’re going. But we could’ve left a lot sooner if you hadn’t had to stitch yourself into those pants.” Roan gasped, pretending to be mortally offended.

“Excuse me,” she huffed, “but, I thought you said you liked these pants. If you don’t, I guess I’ll just throw them out. Maybe my ass looks better in sweatpants anyways.”

Justin’s eyes went wide. “No no no!” He was backpedaling furiously now. “No, you’re right! Those pants are hot. It’s worth the wait!”

“That’s what I thought,” Roan said. “So hush up and drive, I want sushi!”

When the couple arrived at Sushi Don, a small Japanese-style building just off the main highway, Eddie and Callum were already waiting for them inside. Justin held the door open for his girlfriend, shooting Eddie a sheepish grin. “Sorry we’re late guys,” he apologized. “There was some trouble with… her choice of jeans…”

Roan glared up at him, but Callum just laughed. “Trust me Justin,” he reassured, “if I could get this guy here to wear pants that tight, I would wait all night to see it.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, poking Callum sharply in the ribs. “Yeah, not happenin big guy,” he said over Callum’s high-pitched squeal. “I am not trying to squeeze these legs into pants like that. Ever.”

Callum sighed dramatically, looking up at the ceiling. “You never do anything I want,” he groaned. Roan laughed, patting him on the arm sympathetically.

The four spent the next hour devouring eight rolls of sushi, and when they were finally done, all of them were comfortably full. Roan slumped back into Justin’s arms with a contented sigh. Justin gave her a kiss on the head, then turned back to Eddie and Callum, who were poking each other in the stomach trying to compare who was more full.

“I think we’re gonna head out,” Justin told them, already sliding out of the booth. The meal had been paid for, and Justin was starting to get tired. Roan looked equally exhausted, but Justin knew she was too stubborn to say anything about it, at least not while the other two were around.

Eddie nodded, shoving Callum out of the booth. Callum grunted, smacking Eddie’s arm as he stood. “Why you gotta be so mean to me,” he whined, glaring at Eddie. Eddie rolled his eyes, grinning.

“Cause you like it,” he retorted, hands going to Callum’s hips and pressing their bodies together. Callum tilted his head slightly up so he could look Eddie in the eyes. “And when we get home, I’m going to be even more mean. Tie you to the bed maybe,” Eddie added in a growly murmur.

Roan stood up with an exasperated look on her face. “Geez guys, wait till you’re in the car at least,” she groaned, shaking her head. “You two are gonna give me diabetes with all this sweet, mushy stuff.”

Justin wrapped an arm around her, reaching his hand down to squeeze her ass. She squealed, reaching back to slap his hand away. “Mushy stuff is your specialty though,” Justin teased. “You never stop at home.” Roan gave him a light elbow to the gut, to which he groaned dramatically. “Owwww…”

Justin and Roan parted from the other couple just outside the restaurant. The drive home was mostly uneventful, apart from nearly hitting a squirrel stupid enough to walk out onto a highway. About five minutes from the house, Justin glanced over to see Roan looking slightly uncomfortable. “Everything okay baby?”

She jumped slightly, as though brought out of deep concentration. “Huh? Oh, yeah, fine. Just a bit nauseous. Probably ate too much, it was all pretty good.”

Justin was unconvinced, but Roan looked more herself when they reached the house, chattering on about one of her fitness clients. As he brushed his teeth a half-hour later however, Justin noticed a faint twinge in his own stomach. He tried to convince himself that he had also eaten too much, but the coincidence of both him and Roan feeling off at the same time was eating away at him. He paused, bracing himself on the bathroom counter, staring upwards pleadingly. “Don’t let it be what I think it is,” he muttered. “Please, God, don’t.”

Justin collected himself, rinsed off his toothbrush, and wandered back out into the bedroom. Roan was already curled up in a ball under the covers, eyes closed, but when Justin flicked the lights off and climbed into bed beside her, she said, “Justin, how common is it to get food poisoning from sushi?”

Justin’s stomach lurched. Ohhhh no. She was voicing his concerns all too well, only increasing his dread for what he now was almost positive was coming. “Oh, uh, not sure. Probably not very,” he replied, forcing his tone to stay calm. “Why do you ask?”

Roan grunted. “Nothing important.”

The next two hours, Justin lay awake, staring at the ceiling. He was hoping that if he focused hard enough, his stomach would stay only mildly uncomfortable and not progress into true nausea. It was not working, to say the least. By midnight, he had his hand on his stomach, palm rubbing circles. He was just starting to feel a bit more confident in his stomach rubs, when the bed jolted violently beside him. He sat bolt upright as Roan threw the covers to the foot of the bed and scrambled into their bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

As concerned as he was, Justin was almost too terrified to follow her. He knew what he would see, and he did NOT want to see it. Eventually he worked up to courage to creep over to the door and knock lightly. “Roan? Baby, are you okay?”

“Fine, go away,” came the call from inside, followed by a stifled retch. Justin’s skin crawled, but now that the situation was firmly established, he made himself accept his fate. They had gotten food poisoning from that restaurant and he was most likely going to be in the same place Roan was. Unfortunately for him, he had an incredibly weak stomach, where as Roan was literally known for her steel stomach. She had practically no gag reflex, could watch people vomit with no issues, and had eaten things such as scorpions and mice without so much as a groan.

Against Roan’s wishes, Justin opened the bathroom door, stepping in and closing the door back behind him. Roan was in her knees in front of the toilet, hair hanging down in her face, sweat clinging her shirt to her back and chest. She glared up at him from the floor, forehead pillowed on her wrists resting on the toilet seat. “I said go away,” she rasped, voice already raw from retching.

“And when do I ever listen?” Justin had the reply ready the second she stopped speaking. He moved over and knelt by her side, gently pulling her hair back. For a brief moment, Roan tried to push him away, but she apparently decided she needed his help because she let him continue without much of a fight. Justin had just gathered all her hair in his hands when her back arched, shoulders hitching up to her ears in a retch.

Justin hurried to put his hand on her back, rubbing it while muttering soothingly to her. Her slender frame trembled with the force of another gag, this time bringing up a thin stream of stomach contents and leaving a strand of spit hanging from her bottom lip. “Holy fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Fu-uUURgHGH” A gush of vomit splashed into the toilet, leaving Roan breathing hard.

Justin’s stomach was struggling through all this. He already had been starting to feel sick, and the sight and smell of Roan vomiting were just making things worse. He turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his face into his arm. A grating retch sounded in the bathroom, followed by the splash of thick puke falling into the porcelain bowl.

It was a serious fight at this point to keep his stomach contents where they were supposed to be. He was trying his best to keep holding Roan’s hair back, but he had to stop rubbing her back so he could press his hand to his mouth to stifle his own empty gags. His eyes were still closed when the toilet flushed. “Damn… That hurt like fuck, but I feel so much better now,” Roan told him. “I think I’m done, my stomach feels a lot better, thank Go-” She broke off as she got a good look at him for the first time since she had started throwing up. “Holy shit babe, you look awful.”

“Gee, thanks,” Justin muttered, taking those slow deep breaths people take when they’re trying avoid puking. He didn’t open his eyes, trying to use the blackness to center himself. It wasn’t working. He felt Roan’s hands on his shoulders, guiding him towards the toilet. “No, go lie down, you’re sick.” His voice came out much weaker than he meant it to, but he managed to open his eyes through the towering waves of nausea crashing down on him. He saw Roan shake her head in exasperation, giving him a small smile.

“I’m fine, you know how my body works. I already feel almost normal. Five more minutes and I’ll be back to one hundred percent. You on the other hand…” She trailed off, looking him over. “Yeah no, I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere.”

Justin gave a small laugh, slowly closing his eyes back as his stomach roiled inside him. He could already feel Roan’s caretaker mode switching on. She always got so concerned and, in her words, mushy when he was sick. He leaned into her arms to hurry her switch along, moaning softly. Playing it up? Definitely. But it worked like a charm.

Roan’s voice was soft, practically a coo, as she said, “Aw, baby, I’m so sorry, you must feel so sick.” Justin nodded pitifully, giving her another little moan. It was less of him milking it this time though, because he stomach had finally decided it was done with messing around. He forced himself to sit up and open his eyes, moving his hands to brace himself on the toilet’s rim. His breath had gone shallow.

Roan got onto her knees next to him, just as Justin had to her only minutes before, one hand on his stomach and the other rubbing his back. “Shhh… just let it out baby, it’s okay.”

Justin’s stomach took this as an invitation to begin expelling everything inside it. He gagged harshly, a thick rope of saliva trailing in the toilet water. Another retch had heavy chunks sliding up his throat. He had to choke up the sludge it was so thick. It slid off his tongue into the toilet with a visceral splat. The sound made him retch again. The vomit that came out this time flowed much easier, sending a flood of relief over Justin even through his misery.

In the brief space between gags, Justin sucked in deep breaths. His head started to spin, the bathroom swirling circles around him. He could no longer see straight; everything was a blurry mess. The spinning in his head made his stomach revolt again, and a thin trickle of stomach acid fell from his lips.

As soon as his stomach began to feel like it was done with vomiting, his lower abdomen cramped horribly, causing him to wrap his arms around himself and groan. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…” He was panting now, and while his head had mostly stopped spinning, he still had his eyes squeezed shut against this new pain. “Baby…” He paused, hopelessly embarrassed. “Baby, it’s…”

Roan stared at him for a second, then finally noticed his change in expression from nausea to pain. “Oh shit, it’s okay Justin, I understand,” she reassured him, helping him to his feet. “Just breathe, you’re gonna be fine.” Once she got him standing, she tugged his pants and boxers down. He was still too immobilized by the cramping in his intestines to do it himself. Roan guided Justin backward until he was sitting on the toilet.

Justin managed to get ahold of himself enough to realize that Roan was still standing beside him with her hand on his shoulder. “You should go,” he moaned. “I don’t - ah ow - I don’t want you to see me like this.” His cheeks burned. He was completely humiliated. Roan had helped him when he was sick before, but never like this. Sure he had thrown up on her multiple times, woken her up in the middle of the night to help him puke, and been unable to help her clean any of it up, but this was something else entirely. This was horrendously disgusting; he didn’t want his girlfriend to have to deal with it.

Roan snorted, rolling her eyes. “Okay, seriously? I’m not even going to dignify that with a proper answer.” Her tone softened, voice dropping. “Justin, I’m not leaving you in here alone.”

Justin couldn’t decide if he was more grateful or more humiliated. He loved her so much, and how willing she was to stay by his side, but he still wasn’t super keen on the idea of shitting his guts out in front of her. As it turned out, he didn’t have much of a choice, because his guts clenched suddenly, sending a heavy stream of fire pouring out of him. His teeth clenched as the torrent continued, focusing intently on Roan’s hand on his shoulder, trying to ignore the horrible smell that made him want to vomit again. Roan must have seen something in his face, because he heard the scraping of plastic on tile. When he opened his eyes briefly, there was a trash bin sitting under his head.

As much as he didn’t want to, he dry heaved over the bin, the sensation and smell getting to him far to easily. He finished with the toilet before he finished with the bin. It took a few more heaves that brought up nothing but stomach acid and tiny bits before he finally sat up, confident he was done. This was when he noticed that Roan was no longer in the bathroom.

A bolt of disappointment and anger struck him. She had said she wouldn’t leave, but she just snuck out without a word while he was immobilized? He couldn’t believe her. After cleaning himself and the bathroom up, Justin walked back into the bedroom. Roan was sitting crisscross on the bed with her back to him, her phone up by her ear. She clearly didn’t hear him come in because she kept her conversation going without even glancing back at him.

“I know, but still. And you’re sure it’s not that stomach bug Callum had a couple weeks ago? Alright then. Yeah, I know, sounds like a stupid question now that I think about it. All four of us at once? Too big of a coincidence. Yup, you guys too. Bye.”

Roan put her phone down on the bedside table, slipping off the bed and turning towards Justin. She froze and blinked a bit when she saw him standing there. “Oh, hey babe, feeling any better?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Justin grunted. He didn’t really want to be mad at her for leaving him, given everything she had already done for him, but he was still so miserable that he felt a bit betrayed.

“Everything alright?”

Going over to his side of the bed, Justin grunted again. “Mhm, just fine.” A moment later, sitting on the edge of the bed, he felt Roan’s hands on his shoulders, sliding over his bare skin.

“Come on Justin, I know something’s wrong. Why are you mad at me?” Her words were murmured in his ear, her breath tickling his cheek. Somehow, even after vomiting, her breath still smelled minty. He wondered briefly if she had taken a breath mint or something.

“Nothing, I just- ” He paused to gather his thoughts. “I just wish you had said something before you just walked out of the bathroom. You just left me there.”

“But baby, you told me to leave. You didn’t even want me in there to begin with.”

“Yeah, I know, but… I don’t know, it’s stupid. You’ve already helped me a lot. Sorry.”

Roan slid over to sit beside him, their thighs pressed together, her head on his shoulder. “No, it’s not stupid. I said I would stay and I didn’t. I’m sorry sweetheart, I shouldn’t have left you.” Justin tilted his head to rest it on hers, breathing in the strawberry scent of her hair.

“Thanks,” he whispered. “Hey, who were you talking to by the way?”

“Hm? Oh, Eddie. He and Callum both are sick too. Eddie’s thrown up four times, but he ate the most of the sushi, so it’s not surprising.”

Justin nodded, lying back and pulling Roan with him so she was curled up against his side. His stomach still gave pitiful rumbles every now and again, but it didn’t feel like he was going to puke anymore. He just wanted to lie there with Roan and enjoy the feeling of her warm skin touching his.

[made-ofmemories]

Fuck it Friday

Saying fuck it this Friday by posting what is without doubt the best part of what I am still calling 'Earthquake fic'. Moodboard and brief synopsis can be found here.

---

Chim lets out a low whistle when he follows Eddie into the kitchen which is fair. A tornado could have passed through and Eddie thinks it would look better than it does right now. There’s a stack of dishes from breakfast next to the sink that Buck won’t be able to get through even with as hard as he’s currently trying, the table is littered with the aftermath of last minute sandwich making and lunch packing. 

“Buck, can you go find Chris? It should not take 15 minutes to brush his teeth, you’re both going to be late.” Eddie says as he packs up the last of Chris’ lunch, a juice box and some fruit that will inevitably arrive home uneaten, but at least he tries to offer something more nutritional than a PB&J and pretzels. 

“Yeah.” Buck rinses off the dish he’s holding sets it aside, then pauses on his way out of the room to add. “Oh, I forgot to tell you there’s enough leftovers in the fridge for tonight but you’ll have to figure out something for tomorrow. I’ll grab groceries after my shift too.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can manage dinner for one night. Chris won’t mind takeout, we’ll save you some for breakfast.”

“I thought you said you could cook now?” Buck teases. “How did you survive before you met me? On sandwiches?”

“Mostly boxed mac ’n’ cheese and abuelas cooking, but yes.”

Buck shakes his head, giving him a dopey little grin before he leaves the room with a call of Chris’ name. Chim clears his throat Eddie forgot he was there and whips around to face him so quickly it makes his head spin in a way it hasn’t since the first day he got injured. 

��You two didn’t pull a Bobby and Athena and get married without inviting us did you?” 

“What?” He knows he’s messed up the moment the word comes out of his mouth sounding nowhere as casual as he was hoping for. 

“Oh come on, I’ve lived with Buck before and I can promise you it was not like-” There’s a vague and somewhat frantic gesture around the room, “This. You’re totally married.”

“Just because he helps out with Chris and occasionally picks up groceries does not mean we’re married.” He thinks about adding that Buck used to do all of those things before he moved in anyway, but decides that probably would not help the situation. 

“Whatever, man, but maybe ask yourself why he’s been so willing to sleep on your couch for the better part of two months instead of looking for a place of his own.” Eddie’s face must do something without his permission because Chim’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “He is sleeping on your couch, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says like the liar that he is. “Where else would he be sleeping?”

Chim drops it after one more suspicious glare. The tension is defused a moment later when Buck comes barrelling in to grab Chris lunch and exchange hurried goodbyes. 

---

Tagging: @ladydorian05 @nmcggg @your-catfish-friend @jesuiscenseedormir @exhuastedpigeon @the-amber-raven

[midwestmade29]

Unexpected 🩵 (Part 2)

I’m having a lot of fun with this one! Part 2 is fluff and covers the moment you tell Eddie your big news! 🥰

Word count: 1,101 Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Due to the mature themes throughout, minors do not interact. if you’re under the age of 18, please KEEP SCROLLING.

Part 2 disclaimers: Cursing, sickness, mention of pregnancy tests, pregnancy. An obstetrician is a doctor who cares for people who are pregnant and delivers babies. Read at your own discretion.

Be sure to read [Part 1] first 🙂

The GIF I used hit me right in the feels 🥺

Is Eddie’s reaction to your pregnancy announcement everything you hoped it would be?

Today was the day that you were going to tell Eddie the big news. He’s going to be a daddy! You had kept the “little secret” quiet for over a week while you waited on 2 special packages to arrive. You had to play it cool when he grew concerned about you still not feeling well. “Maybe you should go to the doctor? See what’s up and get some answers. I hate seeing my girl feel so shitty. Come on, it’ll make both of us feel better if you give them a call.” He pleaded. “If I don’t feel better by tomorrow, I promise I’ll schedule an appointment. Deal?” When Eddie was satisfied with your answer, you changed the subject. “So, when did you say you’ll be home later?” “I don’t know for sure. Depends on what the boys are trying to get into today. You need me for something? I can bring you food if you want. There’s gotta be something in this city you can keep down.” He noticed your mind was in a different place when you didn’t answer him right away. “You good? You seem off. I can call the boys and reschedule if you need me here. They know my girl comes first!” “No, no! I’m fine, really. You go and enjoy your time with them, and I’ll see you when you get back.” It took a little more convincing, but eventually Eddie followed through with his afternoon plans. Once you were sure he was gone, you checked outside for any packages and sure enough, the ones you had been waiting on had been delivered! You shrieked with excitement when you pulled the custom onesie out of its box, marveling at how tiny and cute it was! You immediately grabbed the 2nd box and pulled out what had to be the world’s smallest New York Yankees hat that you knew Eddie would go crazy for. You held both little items against your chest as you fought back tears, complete joy overtaking you. Thoughts of Eddie and his tall frame holding a tiny baby- your tiny baby you created together tugged at your heartstrings, images of a blue-eyed toddler bouncing on his shoulders as he walked with them through an arena, and Eddie and your child staying up late watching old wrestling matches together while they talk about them and watch in awe. You could get lost in these thoughts forever! In a few short months, your thoughts would become your reality.

Time seemed to go by fast as you found ways to keep yourself busy. Eddie’s surprises were nestled inside the gift box you neatly wrapped along with a positive pregnancy test you took earlier just for the occasion. Now you were lounging on the couch, googling everything baby related in between dozing off and fighting off waves of nausea. At the top of your list of things you needed to find was a good obstetrician! Any friends you had with kids lived states away, so they wouldn’t be able to help. After opening one too many tabs on you phone, you heard keys jingle in the front door making your heart leap into your throat. You were nervous about telling Eddie, even though you knew you really didn’t have anything to worry about. He was going to be the best daddy and the rest of the details would work themselves out. Eddie greeted you with a big hug and kiss and asked you how you were feeling. “A little better after laying down for a while. What’d you bring home? It actually smells good!” your head nodded towards the bag of food that sat on the kitchen counter. “I was near your favorite Chinese food place and thought I’d pick some up on the off chance you’d be up for it. If it smells good to you, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?” You smiled at his sweetness, and he returned the sentiment. Eddie unloaded the bag while you got napkins, drinks, and your present for him. “What’s this love? Did I forget a holiday or some shit?” he asked puzzled, causing you to laugh at his expression. “No, you didn’t forget anything silly. I got you a little something just because. Go ahead and open it!” your heart hammered against your chest when he tore into the wrapping paper. “You know you didn’t need to get me anything. I’m just happy that-“Eddie stopped in the middle of his sentence when he pulled the lid off the box and examined the contents inside. For once in his life, Eddie was speechless! You started to squirm in your seat as he sat across from you unmoving, just staring into the box with his mouth open. “Aren’t you going to take the stuff out and see what it is?” Still in his trance, he pulled the tiny Yankees hat out first and sat it on the table. Next was the pregnancy test that caused his eyes to widen when he saw the two pink lines. He sat it down next to the hat, still not saying a word or making a sound.

When he got to the onesie, he pulled it out and held it in the air as he read what it said. His eyes immediately welled with tears when they scanned over the words “Baby Kingston is All Elite.” You interrupted the silence as you explained a small detail on the onesie, “I had them add the little crown hanging on the K in Kingston since their daddy is the Mad King. I would’ve told you sooner, but I wanted to make it special. The hat and the onesie were delivered today.” “So, this is the reason why you haven’t been feeling well lately? You…you’re…pregnant?” he mumbled. You were hesitant to respond since you couldn’t gage what he was feeling, but you nodded your head yes and spoke the words that nearly brought Eddie to his knees, “You’re going to be a daddy!” He stood abruptly, pulling you in his arms and spinning you around in the air. Laughter and cheers filled the kitchen, happy tears staining yours and Eddie’s cheeks! “So, you’re not upset? I know we didn’t plan on having a kid right now, and it changes a lot of things-“Eddie stopped you before you could ramble on, “Upset? Hell no baby! I’m far from it! Yeah, sure we weren’t expecting for this to happen right now, but we’ll figure it out together. There’s a little piece of me and a little piece of you in there now, and that’s just amazing.”

[munsons-curls]

Black Dahlias

Pairing: Ghostface!Eddie Munson x F! Reader (18+)

Contains: 18+!! Heavy, graphic smut. Rough, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral sex (M/F receiving), praise kink, slight degradation, breeding kink if you squint, possessive!eddie, mean!eddie, slight innocence kink. Minor ghostface!steve. CANON DIVERGENT.

Trigger warnings: DUBCON, knife play, stalking, panty theft, drinking and drug consumption, emetophobia, allusions to sexual assault and child abuse, graphic depictions of murder, violence and gore. <-PLEASE HEED THESE TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!

A/N: happy All Hallows’ Eve!! 🎃 thank you so so so much to T @hotchs-bitch for leaving me 112 comments on this Google doc despite having her own 17k word WIP. I love u.

Somebody’s watching you. 

Your eyes dart around the open courtyard, scanning the area for anything, anybody that stands out, but the unease rolling in your stomach dissipates as quickly as it arrives. 

In the distance, you spot a tall figure lighting a cigarette under the awning of the drama block. His dark, curly hair sits at his leather and denim clad shoulders, ringed fingers bringing a cigarette to his mouth. He’s initially a cutting figure, intimidating and looming but you find yourself drawn to him in a magnetic way. 

You meet his eyes briefly, your attention ripped away when a girl with short, dirty blonde hair rushes past you, splashing you with her converse. She windmills to a stop and begins apologising profusely, running back to you. 

You meet his eyes briefly, your attention ripped away when a girl with short, dirty blonde hair rushes past you, splashing you with her converse. She windmills to a stop and begins apologising profusely, running back to you. 

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit, I’m so sorry.” She rasps. “I totally didn’t even see that stupid puddle and now you’re soaking!” 

“No harm done.” You smile, downcast. “I was already wet.” 

She looks you up and down, her eyes widening at you soaking through your clothes. “I’m so sorry. Do you have, like. A ride or something? How long have you been waiting here?” 

“Since class let out. I’m just waiting for the rain to clear to walk home.” You smile.

“Okay. Forget it. C’mon. You’re coming with me.” You’re being dragged away by a well-meaning hand before you can protest, leading you to a dark red BMW. “C’mon!” She insists when you drag your heels, pulling you down the hilly path to the car. 

You curiously look back for the figure in the distance, but he’s gone by the time you manage to pull free of your new friend. 

“I’m Robin. And that head of hair you see is Steve.” She says, motioning to the driver in a green uniform vest.

You greet Steve quickly and he mock-salutes you with two fingers, offering you a tight smile as Robin ferries you into the back of the car, quickly taking her place in the passenger side. She shakes out her hair, water droplets splattering Steve. 

He squirms and wipes his face before starting the car. “I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes, Robin. I’ve told you—if you want rides from me, the least you can do is be on time.” 

Evidently, Robin bringing in strays isn’t new to Steve, he doesn’t seem at all irritated by an unknown girl dripping rainwater in the back of his BMW. He’s more irritated by the wait. 

“Vickie needed help with a special project! Besides, class actually let out fifteen minutes ago, so technically we’re both late.” 

You stifle a laugh in the backseat, and your driver’s eyes flit up to yours through the rear view mirror. “Who’s your friend?” 

“That. Is actually a great question.” She muses. “We just met and I couldn’t stand to leave her out in the rain. I didn’t get your name.” She turns around to face you. “Did I?” 

She seems harmless enough, a little frazzled and chaotic, but rumours about this town put you on edge. The cult-like unsolved murder of Chrissy Cunningham two months ago still sits like a layer of smog over the town, a simultaneous refusal of the townspeople to acknowledge it—or let it go. 

You know the guy accused was cleared. How or why—you’re not privy to yet. 

You will be soon enough. 

You smile and tell Robin your name. 

“Are you new to town? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, my dad took a job at that new state lab, so I transferred in.”

“I see. And where am I taking you lovely ladies today?” 

Robin’s face crinkles and she rolls her eyes, a silent plea to ignore her friend and his overt-chivalry. “Do you have the video for Nance’s?” Steve nods. “Then we can go straight there.” 

Your brows furrow. “I’m sorry. Where are we going?”

“Our friend Nancy hosts a movie marathon every Friday with a few other friends of ours.” She adds proudly, “Courtesy of Steve and I — we work at Family Video, over at the strip mall on Franklin and Marsh.” 

“Ah.”

“Yeah. You’re gonna love it, it’s great!”

“Oh, no. No, I really appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t want to intrude, I don’t think your friend would be too happy about somebody just, y’know. Waltzing in.” You chuckle. 

“Oh, trust me. You don’t know Nancy. She loves playing hostess, and she’ll love you. Don’t worry.” Robin reassures you, pulling down her visor mirror. 

Steve hums, agreeing with Robin. “She’s right. Half of Hawkins practically has a key to the Wheeler’s. Just, y’know. Don’t tell Ted.”

You smile awkwardly, settling in a little better in the backseat. You don’t interject in the conversation much, Robin thankfully takes care of that for you as she rambles to Steve about Vickie and her new boyfriend. 

You’re content to let the heaters warm your skin, and to watch the rows of houses go by, cautiously relieved at the possibility of some new friends after two months of loneliness. 

At the Wheeler’s, you introduce yourself politely to Mrs Wheeler, offering a smile to the distracted man in front of the TV. Steve looks at you, mouths, “Ted.” And you nod in understanding, suppressing a laugh. 

Mrs Wheeler hands you a warm towel and ushers the three of you down into the basement. 

“Nothing too scary.” She says pointedly, looking at Steve. “If I have to sleep in the same bed as my twelve year old son again, there will be hell to pay, Steven.” 

“Yes, ma’am. I promise. Nothing too scary.” 

You follow Robin and Steve down into the basement; cozily decorated with throw blankets, cushy rugs, a sofa and a loveseat bracketing a TV on the far edge. Sconces and low lamps light the space, illuminating the group huddled in front of the TV. 

“Who’s ready for Halloween II?” Steve exclaims, fishing out a VHS from under his windbreaker. 

“Ah, so he lives!” Says a theatric, but deep voice behind you. “You’re twenty minutes late, Harrington.” 

You let the voice wash over you before you turn around. Your breath hitches when you match the voice to the same figure who was lighting a cigarette under the gym awning just a little while ago. 

You study him now, up close. Shoulder length, curly hair, sharp bone structure. High cheekbones and an angular jawline, a strong neck, full, red lips and most disarmingly, big, brown eyes. He’s intense up close, but it’s not an intensity you necessarily have a desire to run from. 

His brow raises at your inquisitive gaze—you’ve been staring. “This one of your strays, Harrington? Or is this Buck’s doing?” 

Steve gestures vaguely before walking away, leaving Robin—Buck—to make your introduction before joining Steve too. You pull your towel closer to your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin under an intense gaze. 

He extends a large hand, chain link bracelet falling around his wrist. “Hey. Eddie.” 

You take his hand, warm and large, in yours, letting his fingers wrap around the back of your palm firmly. Your voice is hoarse when you tell him your name and he laughs. A throaty sound that emanates from his chest, a grin taking over his face.

He has dimples.  

“Yeah, I know.”

Your heart skids to a stop. “You do?”

“Yeah? Buck just told me.” He replies, looking at you quizzically. He wraps his hands around your upper arms, manoeuvring you so he can slide past, his chest pressing against your back. His leathery, piney scent drifts to your nose. “You comin’?” 

You nod meekly, watching him take a seat on the couch, legs spread apart as he adjusts his hips and sinks down in his seat. Fondness spreads through you at the awkward, oddly charismatic way he carries himself. He lays an arm over the back of the couch leisurely, opening himself up as Nancy winds the VHS. 

Magnetic as he may be, there’s a shroud of something around him, something dark that extends past his appearance. 

You make a resolution not to find out, to get through this year without mishap, but when Nancy takes the last viable seat, you’re left to take a seat next to the guy you promised to swear off. 

Eddie stiffens when you take the seat next to him, awkwardly tensing and stealing looks. Robin offers you a comforting smile as the movie starts, and while you stay firm on wanting as much distance between you and Eddie as you can manage, the heat between you slowly builds, and the distance becomes smaller. The pull towards each other becomes heady until you’re pressed up against one another, your shoulder tucked into Eddie’s arm, your head under his chin. 

You feel his heart rate spike at the jumpscares, matching yours, but where you wear fear and apprehension on your face—Eddie wears excitement. 

——————————————————————————

Somebody’s watching you. 

It’s a thought that crosses your mind multiple times a day, every day for around ten months now. It starts as a fleeting occurrence, something you can chalk up to anxiety, but as the days pass, the rolling unease in your stomach, and the pressure on the back of your neck becomes more insistent. 

Somebody’s watching you. 

It’s near constant; following you at home, through the school hallways, free periods, the mall. It’s worse at night. With fall on the horizon, the days are shorter, and in the dead of night, you feel as though there are eyes on you, crawling up your body like little fire ants. 

Curtains and blinds don’t help. The feeling is heavier when you can’t see what lurks outside. 

A heavy thump from downstairs tears you from a deep sleep, the sound grabbing you by the chest and slamming you into consciousness. You sit idly for a few seconds, allowing your brain to catch up and your heart to settle down before you brave breaching your covers. 

You glance at the clock. 

02:22. 

It’s not until you’re several shaky steps towards your bedroom door that you realise what the sound was. 

Somebody closed your front door. 

Adrenaline courses through your veins, making sure you’re wide awake. You reach for the door with trembling hands and step outside into the lit hallway—you can’t sleep in a dark home when you’re alone. 

“Dad?” You call out. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing for his voice to call back so badly, you almost imagine it. He’s not due back for another five days, and when you lean over the bannister to look at the entryway, and don’t miraculously see his shoes—your blood runs ice cold. 

Somebody was in your house. 

There’s an idiom associated with horror movies. 

When you hear a strange noise, going to investigate is an almost sure fire way to get yourself killed and have your face plastered on the front page of tomorrow’s paper. But your feet carry you downstairs anyway, curiosity outweighing rational thought. You at least want to know if you need to get the hell out of your house, and with no escape upstairs, you’re safer downstairs. 

The floorboards under the stairs creak with your weight as you pad down to the front door, double checking the lock. You slowly check the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen when a chilling thought occurs to you. 

You freeze. 

The door closing could have been a person going out. 

Or a person coming in. 

Ice freezes down your spine, cracking your resolve as your heart jumps to your mouth. Suddenly, the kitchen phone rings and you yelp, body recoiling at the sound. 

“Hello?” 

“You want to play a game?” A voice leers. 

“What?” 

“I’m just messin’,” replies a more familiar voice. “What are you doin’ up this late?” 

“Eddie?”

“No, the fuckin’ Grim Reaper.” He deadpans. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. What are you doin’ up’?” 

“Nothing. Just needed some water.” You reply absent-mindedly, filling up your glass. 

You’re here, you might as well. 

The water replenishing your dehydrated body kicks your brain into gear, a thought occurring to you. “Wait. Why did you call me if you didn’t know I’d be awake?” 

“I saw your lights on.” 

Your brows furrow. “What do you mean, you ‘saw my lights on’?”

“Relax, 21 Questions. I’m doin’ a run for one of my regulars and I was in your neighbourhood. Thought I’d drive by and see if you were all good since you were so tetchy about a week alone. Saw your lights on—gave you a call. That okay?” 

You smile at his gruff gesture. 

You’ve learned that about Eddie in the past ten months. He’s well-meaning, but every sweet gesture is undercut by a layer of sarcasm and gruffness. You don’t blame him for his coldness. 

Despite moving to town two months after Chrissy’s death, you were quickly made privy to everything that happened, and the aftermath, you saw for yourself. Eddie, despite being cleared, still subjected to whispers and dirty looks, branded a devil worshipper and a cult worshipper and a murderer. 

Graffiti on his locker, snide comments in the halls, even his business took a hit. His only saving graces were Hopper, who’d cleared him, his Uncle Wayne and your group of your friends—and to a lesser degree—you. 

“Of course that’s okay.” You reply. 

He makes a non-committal noise. “You doing okay, though?”

A part of you wants to tell him you’re scared, maybe have him blow off his weed run and come keep you company. There’s a safeness with Eddie, but you decide against it. 

Your voice pinches when you speak. “Yeah. All good.” 

A moment of silence stretches between you, almost like he doesn’t believe you. He breaks the silence finally. 

“You sure?”

“Mhm.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“See you tomorrow.” You finish and slide the phone back into the hook. 

You replenish your glass of water, content to explain the slamming sound away as yet another coincidence—maybe as a dream your brain confused with reality when you were coming to. 

As you set the glass on the kitchen island, your eyes catch a glimpse of something behind the roll of tissue. You slowly reach forward, moving the tissue out of the way to reveal a single flower with thin, dark maroon petals and a pink centre. 

A black dahlia. 

You pluck it from the countertop with a shaky breath, examining it under the light, and drop it when you feel a pull at the back of your neck, the feeling of somebody’s eyes on you returning again, making you feel uneasy.

You don’t spare the flower, nor the window behind you a second look, the glass of water left on the marble as you grab a knife and walk firmly to the couch in the living room. You draw the curtains and switch on the TV, flick through until a rerun of a movie plays on mute in the background, lulling you into as deep of a sleep as you can manage in the circumstances. 

But somebody’s watching you. 

——————————————————————————

You drag your body through the hallways the next morning, eyes weighed down like dumbbells and head fuzzy from the lack of sleep. You let your head rest against the cool metal of your locker to offer you some relief as your eyes close, succumbing to your exhaustion. 

“Hey!” Nancy’s voice chirps. She looks at you perplexed when you jump. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You blink heavily and pull your locker open. “No, it’s fine. Just tired, that’s all.” 

“Did you stay up late studying for Mr Haskell’s?” She asks, propping her hardback textbooks against her hip. 

Shit. 

“God, I wish. I actually forgot.” You sigh, grabbing your binders. 

Your peripheral registers something falling out of your locker and drifting to the floor as you take out your things. Nancy’s quicker than you, balances her books on her hip and bends to pick up the item, your heart skidding to a halt when you see it in her hand.

Another black dahlia. 

You feel the blood drain from your face, your stomach dropping and fingers going numb. 

He was here. You’re being followed. 

You feel that ominous feeling return, the feeling that you’re being watched, the crowd in the hallways offering you no solace. It feels like walking through a group of people with an invisible stab wound, nobody any the wiser of your impending doom except for you. 

Nancy spins the flower from the stem, a smile taking over her face as she extends it to you. “A dahlia… nice. Who’s the guy?” She asks in a sing-song voice. 

Your voice feels far away when you answer her. “There’s no guy.”

“Sure. She says sardonically. “You have flowers in your locker but no secret admirer. I want details.” As she walks away, she nods as an acknowledgement to somebody behind you.

You squeeze the flower between your hand just as a strong pair of hands pat, or rather, jostle your shoulders. 

“What’s this I hear about a secret admirer?” 

“Christ, Eddie. You almost gave me a heart attack.” You mutter, stuffing the flower into your pocket. 

His eyes narrow as he scans your face. His gaze is intense, but it offers you an odd kind of relief— his exuberance oddly cancelling out the nauseating fear clouding you. 

Leaning against Nancy’s locker with his hands in his pockets, he asks, “Why so tetchy? You okay?” 

“I’m fine.”

He leans in, looks down at you with a gaze that makes your skin prickle, a feeling you’ve had often during your friendship. 

He taps your shin with his foot. “You know, you’re cute when you lie.”

Your breath hitches. He smells like leather and pine, and he’s tall and broad and warm, and if you leaned into him just a little, you know that some of your tension would at least melt away. 

“Really, Eddie. I’m okay.” You smile, squeezing his hand. 

You retract it quickly, Eddie stiffening when Carol saunters past you, accidentally tripping over Tina’s leg to bump into you with a sickeningly sweet, “sorry, honey.” 

Your first instinct is to push her right back. You’d love nothing more than to pull out a chunk of her hair after what she and her asshole friends did to you. You’re smarter than that, though—she’d paint herself as the victim and you’d end up in detention with a serious mark in your permanent record. 

You roll your eyes, muttering a defiant, ‘bitch’, under your breath. 

“What was that about?” Eddie asks, jerking his chin towards Carol and Tommy. 

“Nothing.” You clip. 

He narrows his eyes expectantly, giving you yet another opportunity to reveal to him what he already knows. 

Around a month ago, after a fight at a party, Steve had ended up crashing at Eddie’s for a few days after being arrested—courtesy of his ex best friend Tommy crying over a busted lip. Hopper had reassured Steve it was for appearances, that he’d be free to go as soon as his dad picked him up, secretly knowing that Tommy had most likely deserved the right hook. 

Mr. Harrington though, had kicked Steve out after making his bail. It was then Steve had told Eddie about the incident at the party, about how Robin had called him absolutely furious after Tommy had tried to force himself on you. 

He’d gotten a knee to the balls from you, Robin and Nancy piling on, and a right hook from Steve, but the damage had been done. By the next morning, Tina and Carol had worked their magic, branding you as the whore who tried to steal Carol’s boyfriend. 

Eddie watches Tommy and Carol keenly now, an expression on his face that you’ve come to see more often recently. It’s as though the warmth drains from his eyes, leaving behind an unfeeling presence before he snaps back. 

The warmth returns to his eyes as quickly as it disappears, working its way to you as if by an invisible line. “You can tell me.” He says softly. “You know you can tell me anything.” 

Your chest constricts. “Eh. Apparently, I’m a whore. It’s whatever.” 

His jaw ticks again. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re about as pure as they come.” He marvels, gaze lingering on your lips. His hand absently brushes some hair behind your ear, and he freezes, letting it hang awkwardly. 

You huff, slapping his wrist away. “Okay. Yoda? You sound like an idiot. This isn’t the 1800’s—women have and enjoy sex, you know?” 

He snaps back into his detached ruse, leaning against the locker to play with his rings. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, suggestive lilt to his voice. 

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me more about that?” 

“Dude, you’re nasty.” 

“Maybe.” His eyes darken before he inhales deeply. “Listen, I got a free period, so I’m gonna run. I have a business meeting that is most urgent and requires my utmost attention.” 

“Eddie-“

He’s already walking away, his broad back heading for the doors at the end of the hall. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll be back by lunch, Sweetheart.” 

You smile to yourself and reach back into your pocket, having temporarily forgotten about your present. You wish you could hold onto that feeling of safety and happiness that Eddie gives you a little longer, bottle it up and use it for when your anxiety reaches its peaks. 

Being around Eddie always has that effect on you, try as you might to push it down. 

——————————————————————————

“Turn on the news.” Nancy hisses through the crackly phone. “Now!”

“Christ, Nance. Do you even know what time it is? It’s barely light outside.” You grumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Forget about the time, just turn on your TV!” 

“Okay! Okay, gimme a second.” You groan. 

You rush downstairs for the TV remote and flick through the channels until you get to the news. On the screen, police and ambulance sirens paint the scene red and blue, police tape cordoning off a house just a few blocks from yours. You turn the volume up and catch the last few words from the reporter.

“—Tragedy rocks Hawkins once again, as the bodies of two teenagers, Carol Perkins, and her boyfriend Thomas Hagan were found butchered in the early hours of this morning.”

The words go off like a bomb in your ear, the floor giving out from under your feet as you slump down on the sofa, shakily clutching the remote. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit, holy fucking shit.” You murmur. 

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” 

Your voice sounds tinny when you speak. “They were murdered?”

“Butchered.”

“God, I know I said I wanted to see her head on a spike but this is awful. I can’t believe somebody would do that.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at your proximity to the victims—despite your vitriolic hatred for the both of them, Carol and Tommy are—were—people you saw everyday. You can’t say anybody deserves to be butchered. 

“Can you meet Robin, Jonathan and me at my place in an hour? We’re gonna go get some answers.” Nancy asks. 

“Isn’t that a reporter’s job? Or the PD?” You ask, alarmed. 

“I wanna major in journalism, that basically makes me half a reporter already. Just meet at my place in an hour. Bring sensible shoes.” 

Any room for negotiation goes out of the window as the line goes dead. You set the now clammy phone down on the hook and stay rooted in spot, staring blankly at the TV as the news reel plays out in the background.

“—Police and Fire were called to the scene at around 3:00am when Perkins’ parents arrived home to a fire. Upon their arrival, they found their home in disarray and the two teenagers dead. Hawkins PD are still combing the scene for evidence and are expected to make an announcement later this evening. One thing is for sure though, it seems that death and tragedy are never too far where Hawkins is concerned.” 

You’d completely forgotten about the dark cloud that had been looming over Hawkins this past year. These new killings seem especially insidious with the anniversary of Chrissy Cunningham’s death approaching in just a few days. 

Becoming cognizant of Chrissy, you want to reach out to Eddie to ask him how he’s doing following this news. You’ve no doubt that this time of year is likely to dredge up some horrific memories for him—it’s only been a year since he was labelled as the town pariah—ostracised through no fault of his own.

This won’t help. 

He’ll be subjected to looks in the street again and whispers as he walks by, as though he’s a stain on the town. He’ll be scapegoated. Again. 

You want to reach out to Eddie for him, sure. But there’s also a selfish undercurrent to your thoughts; Eddie’s an increasingly comforting figure in your life and you need him to knock you back on track, especially if Nancy’s going to be critiquing your journalism skills this morning. 

A hit of something to get your head right. 

You hit three on your speed dial, put the coffee on while the line rings and make your way upstairs.

His voice crackles through the phone and has the strangest effect by offering you almost-immediate relief. “Who the hell is this?” He grumbles, voice thick with sleep. 

It makes your heart pick up pace. 

You stifle a laugh. “Eddie, it’s me.” 

He moans, and you picture him with mussed hair, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His voice is still thick when he talks; though, much less irritable this time. “Mornin’, sunshine. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t see the news?” 

“Nah. Not yet at least. Late night. What’s going on?” 

“It’s Carol and Tommy. They found their bodies this morning, they were killed.” You whisper the last part in a hushed tone, like verbalising it will somehow bring the curse to you. 

“Wait, what did you just say? They were murdered?” You hear rustling on the other end and assume Eddie’s making a mad dash to the living room in his boxers to turn on the TV. “Do they know who did it?” 

“No, I don’t think so. Not yet—“

“—Hey, man. Turn that up?” 

You pause in your doorway, brows furrowing. “Who are you talking to?”

“Harrington—he got into another pissing match with his dad a few nights ago, told him he could have the couch while Wayne was at work.” 

“Christ, dude. They’re saying they were butchered.” Steve says, muffled in the background. 

You straighten the edges of your bedsheets and start to pick out the sensible shoes Nancy requested, zoning in on another pair you’ll inevitably have to loan to Robin. 

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, I thought you already knew. I just…wanted to check in.” 

Eddie pauses before he speaks hesitantly. “Check in?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know it’s coming up to a year since all of that stuff happened, and I can’t imagine this is gonna be easy for you, y’know? I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

A surge of warmth spreads inside him. Rarely does he feel truly content or peaceful, especially as of late; he has enough emotional baggage to last a lifetime. But he does feel blessed to have sporadic moments of lightness—short—but always with you. 

“You sayin’ you care about me or something?” He murmurs, no doubt careful to avoid Steve’s ears but you can hear the smile in his voice. 

You snicker, your eyes falling to your slightly open underwear drawer. You go to close it with an absent-minded push of your hips when your eyes catch something. 

Your heart plummets like a lead weight, a shot of dread piercing your chest. 

“Hello? You there?” Eddie calls out, but your hands are trembling. 

Stuffed in your underwear drawer, deliberately wrapped inside a pair of white cotton panties, is another black dahlia. 

“Eddie, I’m gonna have to call you back.” You squeak.

His voice shifts. “You okay? Something wrong?” 

“Fine. I’ll talk to you later.” You clip, the phone landing with a thud against your mattress. 

You reach for the flower, gingerly unwrapping it from the white cotton only to reveal a small note tucked under the stem. Nausea claws at your stomach and invades your throat, leaving your head tingly and eyes spotty. 

Black sharpie against red paper reads;

“The things we do for love. Be seeing you soon, my flower. I have some business to take care of first.” 

It's as direct a threat to you as you’ve had so far, but there’s an insinuation there too. An icy thought sends chills through your veins. You may be responsible for Carol and Tommy’s deaths which is in itself a steel weight, but this note doesn’t indicate any sign of the violence stopping. 

If anything, it connotes the opposite. 

You can’t explain the paranoia and the flowers away, can’t live in the content grey safety of denial anymore. He was here. 

In your room. Rifling through your underwear drawer. Watching you sleep. 

Could he have touched you? 

Are you the business he has to take care of? 

Your stomach rolls, and you run to the bathroom to empty your guts into the toilet, gagging until the remnants of last night’s barely-there-dinner are gone and you’re shivering and cold on the tiled floor. 

You’re hit with the feeling of somebody watching you again, pressure tugging at the back of your neck like tiny threads under your skin. Your eyes dart out of the window but you don’t see anything. 

Or anybody. 

You never do. 

——————————————————————————

Your investigation with Robin and Nancy turns up nothing except more disturbing information, which you grimly conclude could well predict your own demise. You’re running on fumes, paranoid and scared for your life, the walk up the stairs to get into school seeming like a chore. 

“Tommy went first.” Robin tells Eddie the following morning. 

“What?” He asks, dodging Robin’s attempt to snatch the cigarette out of his mouth. She tries again, but he dodges again, manoeuvring you to walk between them. 

“Yeah. We overheard Hopper and Callahan over the radio. He was shot in both knees first, tied to a chair, gagged, then stabbed. His insides…on the outside.” 

Eddie’s face contorts, not so much in horror, but in mild disgust as he exhales a cloud of smoke. It seems Tommy had enemies in just about every circle except for his own; and despite your best intentions not to think it, you conclude that somebody finally decided to take matters into their own hands. 

“And Carol? Stabbed in the back, chest, and neck. Gutted and tied to a tree. Can you believe that shit? This guy is serious.” Robin continues. 

She’s managed to dig up a rubber band from inside her pocket and snaps it against her wrist, each slap against her skin housing a migraine deeper in your temple. 

You wince. 

“Careful, Buck. Almost sounds like you admire him. Besides, how do you know it’s a guy?” Eddie asks, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

“Statistics.” Nancy interjects, clicking her locker shut. “Violent kills are almost always executed by men. That, and the fact that it would take a pretty huge guy to hog-tie Tommy, and then string Carol’s dead body up on a tree.” 

“Alright.” You feel nausea rising in your stomach again. Slamming your locker shut, you squeeze your eyes closed. “Can we not? I feel sick.” 

“You look it.” Robin deadpans, raising her hands in defence when you, Nancy and Eddie cut her a look. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it in a you-look-awful way, I’m just saying you look like you haven’t been sleeping.” 

Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, gently turning your face to his. “Yeah. Have you been sleeping?” He asks, cigarette tucked between his lips. His thumb runs over the delicate skin under your eyes. “You look so tired.” 

You tense up at the sudden contact from Eddie, who, despite being notoriously tactile, isn't somebody you’d ever describe as affectionate except maybe with Dustin and the kids. 

You allow yourself a moment of weakness to melt into his touch, his warm skin and icy rings, but your eyes dart to Robin and Nancy who share a wry look. You become aware of the droves of people staring and whispering as they go by too, and suddenly your throat feels tight. 

“I’m fine.” You clip, prying yourself away from his tender touch and he reacts by awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets, hurt by the sudden change. 

He knows it’s because people are staring, he just hadn’t expected you to care. You can’t handle the eyes on you—not when there’s somebody breathing down your neck. 

The rational part of you knows that it’s because you’re in such close proximity to Eddie, who’s been re-subjected to dirty looks and hostile whispers since Tommy and Carol died yesterday. It seems that despite his name being cleared in good faith last year, the people of Hawkins merely needed a reason to scapegoat Eddie again, all too quick to spit the words devil worshipper and cult leader his way.   

Eddie brushes the looks off, his jaw tensing and releasing, tensing and releasing, shoulders tight like a coil as he takes a deep drag of his cigarette. 

“Fuckin’ morons.” He mutters under his breath. “A serial killer walks the streets of Hawkins but sure…” He mock lunges at a group of lowerclassmen who flinch and disperse down the hallway, earning more looks from passersby. “Let's all gather around to stare at the freak.” 

“Mr. Munson,” Higgins’ voice booms, his eyes falling to the cigarette in Eddie’s mouth. “You can either put that out, or I can put it out for you—and while I do relish in giving you detention—I no longer wish to see you roam these halls for yet another year. I’m frankly sick of seeing your face.” 

“Oh believe me. The feeling’s mutual, asshole.” Eddie grumbles, a begrudging appeasement on his face. He theatrically plucks the cigarette from his mouth and puts it out against the metal rim of the bin behind you. “Guy’s a pain in my sack.” 

Robin’s cackle is cut short when a sudden buzz crawls over the student body. It takes over like a swarm of bees, students yelling and clamouring in the direction of the football field. In the distance, you see Argyle and a pale Jonathan cut through the crowd, right as Mr Higgins receives a radio transmission and pushes through the horde himself. 

You narrow your eyes, your group pulling Jonathan and Argyle to the side of the stampede. “What’s going on?” 

“Dudes, they found another body.” Argyle tells the group. 

The news hits you with the subtlety of a crashing train, leaving the words ricocheting in your ear. You fight to keep your composure, doing the maths in your head to figure out where on your shadow’s roster you fall. 

“What? Who? Where? How? How do you guys know?” Nancy asks in rapid succession, grabbing Jonathan and Argyle with a hand each. 

“I was walking down to take pictures out on the football field for the yearbook, and saw what I thought was a doll or a scarecrow or something. Just hanging from the goalpost.” Jonathan pants weakly. 

“Yeah. Got closer and realised it was a real person. A lady.” Argyle adds, shaking his head. 

Eddie huffs, leaning against his locker. “A lady?” 

“Tina.” Jonathan corrects. “Somebody already tipped off the cops—Hopper pulled up right as we saw her body. She was in her pyjamas, you guys. All covered in blood.” He runs a stressed hand through his hair, bending to put his hands on his knees. “I think I’m gonna throw up.” He wheezes. 

Argyle rubs his back sympathetically, while Nancy kicks herself into high gear. Rifling through her locker, she grabs her school newspaper notebook and best ballpoint pen—the kind she reserves for sleuthing and writing speeches—and turns heel. 

“I swear, if you want something done right…” she mutters and she’s a flash of a perm as she scurries away, joining the now well-informed student body of the attraction outside. 

The gaggle eventually dies down and gets filtered into the gym, squashed together like sardines in a can; some taking up the bleachers, some using the benches, the lowerclassmen claiming the floor as their sitting space. 

Eddie tucks you into his arm on the sidelines where the rest of your friends sit in an effort to conserve space. He balances his copy of Lord of The Rings on his knee, the spine snapped, edges frayed and tattered, various motor oil stains soaked into the paper with rows and rows of annotations littering the page. 

At best, it's well-loved—at worst, it’s unreadable—but it’s one of Eddie’s prized possessions and it shows. 

Higgins’ voice through the speaker silences the hustle of whispering students, rumours and gossip dying down almost immediately. 

“All classes are henceforth suspended until further notice. When prompted, please collect all important belongings from your lockers and proceed to leave in an orderly fashion. Police Chief Hopper also has an announcement to make—please remain where you are for now.” 

Cheers for class suspension are cut short when Hopper swiftly implements a strict citywide 9:00pm curfew. 

“Any citizens reported to be out after this time will be brought in by an officer and questioned before release. It is vital you heed this curfew as it has been put in place for your own safety. Please report any concerns directly to the Police Department or call 9-1-1. Thank you.” 

A resigned groan makes its way through the crowd as students filter out, Tommy’s old friend group uncharacteristically quiet; haunted by the news. It tracks—the only discernible pattern so far is that the killer has a vendetta against their group of friends. 

It’s your own entanglement that doesn't track. 

“So. What’s the rundown?” Robin asks Nancy as you make your way down to the parking lot. 

Nancy looks pale. “Tina was cut from chin to stomach through her nightgown.” She says, shakily. “But there’s more.”

Your blood runs cold. “More?”

“Yeah. It’s not confirmed yet, but I overheard Hopper telling Higgins they found another body this morning on the other side of town. They said the description matched Fred Benson.”

“The guy who did the student paper with you?” Eddie asks. 

Nancy bristles. Her relationship with Fred had soured last year after he insisted on covering Chrissy’s murder, putting Eddie at the forefront. Nancy had refused—then fired him. 

“Yeah.” She goes on. “Parents didn’t even know he was missing.” 

Nancy’s words only stand to remind you that you too could be murdered and strung up like a carcass for the town to see—and nobody would be any the wiser until it was too late. 

You should tell somebody. Anybody. But your mind stops you, a terrifying thought crossing your mind. Telling your friends could put them in danger too. Taking out entire friendship groups seems like a day’s work for this killer, and if anything happened to your friends, you’d never forgive yourself. 

“I’m gonna wait for Will and the rest of those guys, make sure they’re okay, but we’ll reconvene at Nance’s?” Jonathan asks. 

“Wait—you heard Hopper. There’s a curfew.” You say.

Nancy shrugs. “Safety in numbers. C’mon.”

Eddie pats your shoulder as he lights another cigarette. “I’ll catch up with you guys later—I left my briefcase inside. I’ll bring the beer to Nance’s.” 

“Somebody’s gotta tell Steve, does he even know what’s going on?” You ask.

“I’ll take care of it.” Eddie says, voice thick with smoke. “I gotta swing by Family Video anyhow, it appears Keith is in the market for my recreational sleeping aids.” 

Argyle gestures to Eddie who gives him the affirmative—and you shake your head. A serial killer walks the streets and your friends are making sure there’s enough weed at an unmandated ‘gathering’. 

“Be safe?” You call out to Eddie.

He kicks his leg, gives you a mock salute. “Always am. You too.” 

——————————————————————————

“Well. I’m just saying, y’know. There are certain rules when it comes to slashers.” Jonathan mumbles through a mouthful of chips. 

“Is that what this is? A slasher?” Steve asks, adjusting in his seat. 

The basement air smells like weed and cheap beer, the sourness of the salsa that Robin opened twenty minutes ago cutting through the stench. Your stomach is already in pieces with worry, talk of a slasher movie and the dank air does little to quell your nerves. 

“Yeah. I mean. Think about it.” He munches. “You got a guy in a mask goin’ around, killing a bunch of teenagers, hanging them up on goalposts?”

Argyle’s content to listen, offering a grunt of agreement here and there, but he pipes up. “Yeah. Plus, y’know the whole haunted past in a small town thing. No offence, my dude.” He says to Eddie. 

Eddie raises his brows, shakes his head. No harm done. 

“So, these rules then. Let’s have ‘em.” Steve says. “What do you got?”

“Well. The first is that everybody’s a suspect. Everybody. That’s a given.” 

“Yeah. No shit.” Steve nods, huffing a laugh.

Jonathan stands up, his eyes wide. “Now the rules to surviving a slasher movie—well. That’s a whole different ball game.” 

“Go on.”

“Rule number one: never have sex.” 

You catch Eddie’s eye from across the room. It’s something you’d noticed pretty much the day you met; oftentimes you’d be engrossed in something, or just happen to look up at Eddie to find him already watching you. His gaze makes your skin prickle with intensity, blood warming under your skin. 

Despite being in a room full of people, your looks always seem like they’re reserved just for the two of you, an invisible string tying you to him and pulling you closer despite the physical distance remaining the same. 

“—Big no.” Jonathan continues. “Sex equals death. Slasher and horror symbolism in general relies heavily on the innocent virgin as a survivor trope. Promiscuity guarantees death.” 

Eddie’s gaze lingers on yours, his elbows perched on his knees, chin tucked into his chest. He looks good in this light, full lips casting a shadow, his eyes transfixed on you. You lose your nerve and look away, but can’t fight the desire to glance at him again. 

He’s still watching you with almost drunken eyes that you attribute to the beer, though you know he can handle his alcohol.

“Number two: no drinking or doing drugs. It’s an extension of number one—the sin factor. It’s a sin!” 

“Oh great. Guess we’re all fucked.” Steve mutters, taking a swig of his beer. “It’s bullshit, man. This isn’t a slasher and no serial killer is going to know if you’re a boring, sober, virgin.” 

Eddie finally averts his gaze, picking at the frayed denim on his jeans. “Byers, you know I make my living supplying recreational substances to those in need.” 

“—And Steve has deflowered every legal girl who likes men, all the way up to like, Fort Wayne.” Robin snorts, raising her drink. 

“Well—not exactly.” Steve squints. “But they both make a good point. By your so-called rules, Byers; Eddie and I would’ve been the first ones to go.” 

You shake your head, feeling a massive tangent coming and decide to cut out while you can. The thought of going home to an empty house fills you with dread, especially with the recent uptick in dead bodies. You can’t sleep, not when your ears pick up the smallest noises and twist them into sinister scenarios. 

The wind howling through the gaps in your windows sounds eerily like somebody screaming, the floorboards settling make you see an intruder out of the corner of your eye. 

You’re exhausted. 

Nancy follows you upstairs, turning you by your arm. “Hey, you doing okay?”

“Yeah. It’s a little much down there.” You inhale deeply now that the air is thinner and fresher. 

“You know what they get like when they drink.” Nancy laughs. “Do you wanna stay over tonight? Robin was thinking about crashing and I don’t love the idea of you at home by yourself with everything going on. Just stay with me until your dad gets back.” 

You feel a wave of relief wash over you. “Actually, would you mind? I don’t really wanna be by myself.”

“Yeah!” She laughs. “Of course. I can take you to grab your stuff in the morning.”

“Thanks, Nance. I gotta double check the alarm and locks anyway, so I’ll go grab my things now.” You smile, turning to grab your keys from the bowl on the credenza. 

“You sure? It’s late.” 

‘Rule number 3,’ Jonathan continues downstairs out of earshot, ’never, ever, under any circumstances, say you’ll be right back.’ 

“It’s a few blocks away.” You reassure her. “I’ll be right back.” 

——————————————————————————

Somebody’s watching you. 

You feel a tug on the back of your neck when you get to the top of the Wheeler’s cul-de-sac. It becomes more insistent as you turn left on to a densely tree-lined street, which, dimly lit as usual, is eerily silent. With the exception of you and your friends, it seems the residents of Hawkins are abiding by Hopper’s mandate. 

You brush the feeling off and slide your keys between your fingers, picking up pace. By the time you get to your driveway, your heart is in your mouth and you’re almost at a full sprint, nearly slipping on the corner of a flowerbed. 

You’d devised a plan on the way home. 

Check the alarms, downstairs windows, upstairs windows, grab your bag from the closet in the hallway and pack as you go. Simple enough.

But somebody’s watching you. 

Your trembling hands make you fumble and miss the lock a few times, the key bluntly jamming against the metal. You’re finally in, about to twist the lock when a hand aggressively swipes at your arm and drags you backwards. 

You yelp, stomach swooping in pure terror, blood pounding in your ears. 

He’s here. 

You come face to face with a bloodshot Jason, whiskey heavy on his breath. He looks desperate and frenzied in just a pair of chinos and a white polo—it’s freezing out. His presence offers you an odd sense of relief, you can tell from his appearance he’s not about to hurt you and he doesn’t pose any immediate danger. 

He seems scared. 

He pulls you in close, his vice grip making your skin pinch. 

“Let go, Jason. What the hell is wrong with you, why are you outside my house?”

“I came to warn you.”

“Warn me? About what?!” You snap.

“About the company you keep.” He slurs darkly. “You’re not new anymore, but you weren’t here when it went down. When Chrissy died.” 

You squirm, attempting to free your arm, but Jason’s grip is vicious in his trance-like state. “What the hell does that have to do with me?” 

He’s here physically, but his mind is elsewhere. “It’ll be a year tomorrow. And it’s like she was never here. Like she never existed.” 

Your heart sinks for him, a loss so large, so young is sure to rock anybody. But you know the other side of him—the side that radicalised half the town into hunting down Eddie. That almost killed Lucas and Erica when they tried to help. 

“Look. Jason. I’m sorry about what happened, but that doesn’t explain why you’re grabbing my arm.” You grunt, trying to break free. “What does this have to do with me?”

He jostles you, shaking you hard enough that the pain radiates up your arm like a vine. “Everything! This has everything to do with you! Your friend? Eddie? I know they cleared him, said that he had nothing to do with it, but I know the truth. I know what he is.” He says, words dripping with disdain. 

In a surge of defensiveness, you drag the serrated edge of your keys across his skin, drawing a little blood. 

“You bitch!” He sneers, snatching his hand away. “You’ll regret that. You’ll regret not listening to me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you; don’t say I didn’t tell you what he was!” He angrily stalks off, disappearing into the tree line.

When you’d first moved to Hawkins, rumours of golden girl Chrissy dying at the hands of a satanic cult had intrigued you. Dustin had filled you in on the rest and after meeting Eddie and the rest of his innocent D&D group, you knew those rumours were a work of fiction.  

“Hey!” Eddie shouts from a few feet away. He gestures in the direction of the tree line. “Was that Jason?” 

“Yeah.” You mutter, gingerly touching your arm. 

Eddie closes the last few feet between you, jogging to you as you open your door. “What did he want?”  

“Said he saw me walking home, wanted to make sure I was okay.”

Eddie looks at you incredulously as he steps inside. “Looked intense, you okay?” 

“Yeah. All good.” 

Eddie’s eyes fall to the raised welts on your forearm, your hands paler from the lack of blood flow. He gently holds your wrist and brings it up to the hallway light to examine the marks. 

“Did Jason do that?” He asks. “Did he hurt you?” 

“No.” You sigh resignedly. “He was drinking, and he said some stuff about Chrissy’s death anniversary, I think he was just… a little out of it. Got a little overzealous.” 

“Overzealous?” Eddie asks, getting closer to you. “He left a paw print. Y’know I swear, guys like him think they can get away with anything—“

“—Yeah. But I’m fine, Eddie. It looks worse than it is.” You place your hand around his and squeeze reassuringly. “Really. I’m okay.” 

“You sure?“

“I swear, Eddie. I’m all good.” 

Your peripheral suddenly plays a cruel trick on you, making you jump at the impression of somebody in the kitchen. 

Eddie finally lets go of your hand, laughing at your reaction. “You okay? You’re really jumpy.” He asks, rubbing your shoulders as you walk into the kitchen. 

“There’s a serial killer in town, Eddie. Why aren’t you jumpy?” You deadpan. “Is that why you’re here?” 

He chuckles self-effacingly, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah. Nancy told me you took off to grab your things and I didn’t want you to have to walk by yourself with all that stuff.” He stops you from reaching for the window with a hand on your hips, walking around you instead. “Here, I got it.” 

He extends his lean body to twist the window handle, his t-shirt riding up to reveal his toned abs. Red welts—scratches—mark his stomach and a twinge of jealousy creeps up your chest when you think about how he may have gotten those marks. 

“Hey!” Eddie says, snapping his fingers. “Where do you keep goin’, you good?” 

Embarrassment warms your cheeks, snapping you back into reality. “Of course. I have my knight in shining armour, don’t I?” You say sardonically, rounding the island to go upstairs. 

You’re halfway through the hallway before you realise you’re not being followed by Eddie; he’s since taken to standing in the doorway with a look that you can’t read. 

“What is it?” You ask.

He slowly steps towards you. “I know you’re kidding, but for what it’s worth—you never have to worry about that stuff when you’re with me.” He says softly, his voice thick. “You’re always safe with me. I hope you know that.” 

You share a look in the dimly lit hallway, and you don’t know what this thing is between you—the thing where you know each other best, and look out for one another, and make one another feel safe, but where touches and looks linger for longer than they should. 

You don’t have a shadow of a doubt colouring your answer when you reply, knowing wholeheartedly that you believe it. 

“I know.” 

When you get back to Nancy’s though, the night has taken a turn for the worse. The kids sit in the living room with the rest of your friends, everybody huddled up together around the TV as the breaking news reel plays.

“What’s going on?” You ask, setting your bag by the door. 

“They found another body.” Steve tells you in a hushed voice, mindful of the kids but it’s useless—they’re watching the same thing you all are. 

“Higgins.” Nancy explains, approaching you and Eddie. Out of earshot of the kids, she says, “they found him tied to the same goal post they unhooked Tina off of today. His eyes were gouged out and he was stabbed in the neck. He bled to death.” 

Three victims. Three victims in one day. 

Nancy mirrors that thought, but all you can think about now is how much longer you can outrun the shadow breathing down your neck, seemingly getting closer every day. 

——————————————————————————

Breakfast is a bleak affair. 

Mrs. Wheeler does everything to make sure you eat, encouragingly puts out a spread that most people dream of, while Mr Wheeler grumbles under his breath. You watch the boys, El and Max stuff their faces with pancakes, syrup dripping down their chins, but after the morning news, you can barely stomach anything. 

Youre realising after watching the morning news, that it’s becoming a twisted kind of routine to wake up and expect the news of another murder. 

Today’s victim: Andy Clayton. 

Jason’s best friend and yes-man; found hacked to pieces, fibres of his letterman jacket found in his stab wounds from the brutal kill. You stick close to Nancy and Robin for the rest of the day, but when you come back from investigating, you find a chilling surprise on the Wheeler’s doorstep. 

Nancy giggles and ducks inside with Robin, leaving you with your gift. Four black dahlias tied together with a length of twine, a note folded in half between the stems. 

“I promise it won’t be much longer until we’re together, my flower. See you soon.” 

Your head instinctually whips around, your eyes scanning the street, but it’s dead silent save for the occasional passing car. You turn back to the house, ice flowing into your veins as you realise you’re a sitting duck, and staying here would put everybody else in danger too. 

The Wheelers, the kids, Robin. 

You tuck the note into your pocket along with the four flowers and grab your bags, lying to Nancy that you’ll be back. Your first stop is going to see Eddie to ask for some company at the police station. You make the walk to your house, drop your bags in the trunk of your car and make the seven mile journey to Eddie’s trailer. 

The sun sets on your way there, casting the sky in blooms of oranges and pinks, the landscape so much more vibrant in Hawkins than anywhere else you’ve lived. Eddie’s beat up van isn’t anywhere to be seen, but the lights inside his trailer are on, you knock once out of politeness and come in anyway after finding the door unlocked. 

Not that Eddie ever remembers to lock his doors. 

Inside, he’s still nowhere to be seen, the only thing interrupting the silence is the hum of the energy saver light bulb in the background and the sound of a dog barking outside. 

“Eddie?” You call out, clicking the door shut behind you. “You home?”

You’re met with more silence. 

You glance at the small clock above the hat-lined wall. 

5:30pm.

Tentatively, you take a seat on the pull out couch that Steve and Wayne have taken to sharing by now, using the time you have to contemplate how best to broach the subject of your stalker with Eddie; where to start, how much to say. 

Your legs start to tingle from nerves and pent up anxiety, forcing you to your feet. 

You pace the length of the living room and to the kitchen and back again. Your stomach knots and unknots, a surge of nervous energy lodging in your throat and dissipating throughout your chest. 

Absently, you walk into Eddie’s room—a bomb site on a good day. As you close the door behind you, something large and black swooshes against the hook, a large coat or a cloak of some kind, probably for his Hellfire Club meetings. 

You should talk to Eddie about rebranding that soon. 

You smile fondly as your eyes travel over his poster lined walls, the acoustic guitar perched in the corner, the magazines on top of his nightstand. The second drawer of his nightstand catches your eye, ajar slightly because of something caught between the drawer and the frame. 

You look closer, eyes narrowing when you pull a length of twine out from the drawer. You examine it curiously, holding it up to the light when a thought occurs to you. 

With a hesitant hand, you reach into your back pocket to pull out the dahlias you’d received earlier that day, comparing the twine to the one in your hand. Your brows furrow as you bring both pieces of twine together, joining the two diagonal edges to fit perfectly. 

It’s a dead match. 

You pull out his drawer in a daze, head growing fuzzy as you rummage through his things. It’s a coincidence—it has to be. There has to be an explanation. 

Ice flows into your veins when you find five black dahlias tucked neatly into a roll of newspaper, red square note paper next to it. Your head rushes with blood, the room spinning as you try to somehow refute what’s in front of you. 

This can’t be what you think it is. It can’t be.

You gag and run to the kitchen to empty your stomach in the sink. It’s fruitless, your stomach turning up nothing, leaving you to dry heave and clutch the counter. 

No. No, no, no. 

Your hands tremble, blood rushing in your ears and pumping through your body to drive you into high gear, to get the hell out. 

You dart for the door, grabbing your bag and keys, and slam face first into a black wall, your hands taking the brunt of the impact, the shock forcing you back a few steps. Your bags and keys fall on the floor, the blood draining from your body when you look up at a cloaked figure with a white mask. 

You tense up, making peace with the fact that this may be your end but still hold out a small amount of hope that it isn’t who you think it is behind the mask. 

Then the figure speaks, says your name in that familiar way that sends shivers up your spine. 

Eddie. 

Your knees buckle and you trip backwards, the pressure inside your head increasing until you can hear a high-pitched whine. Shakily holding out your hands in front of you, you see them stained crimson, an unknown person’s blood licking your skin. 

It’s the last thing you see before you succumb to darkness. 

——————————————————————————

A horrible weight surrounds your head and there’s a ringing in your ears when you come to. It takes a few seconds for your mind to catch up, but when it does, you jolt in your seat, your movement restricted by something binding your hands and mouth. 

You start to hyperventilate. 

“Hey. Hey. Calm down.” Eddie says, crouching in front of your chair, sporting a busted lip, a bruised eye and bloody knuckles. “Fuck—Calm down, I need you to breathe, okay?” He rips the tape off your mouth and you struggle against the ties, but he pulls the chair in by its arms.“Hey! Breathe. C’mon—just match my pace, alright, you’re gonna pass out again. Fucking breathe.”

He exaggerates his own breathing rhythm now that you can see his chest in just his t-shirt to let your breathing fall into tandem with his. You let yourself breathe, focusing on the air expanding in your lungs, but terror still grips you.  

Eddie watches you carefully, like you’re a cornered animal, his mask pulled up, hair matted to his forehead. “I’m going to cut you loose so we can talk, okay? M’gonna explain everything, but you can’t run. Can you do that?”

Images of Carol and Tommy, Tina, and the rest of his victims flash before your eyes. Eviscerated. Bludgeoned. Gutted. 

You nod, not daring to look down knowing that the rope, the chair and your skin are stained with fresh blood. 

“Good.” He breathes. 

He brings a bloody hunting knife to your wrists, lodges the flat edge between you and the rope, and cuts upwards, slicing you free. You plant your shaky feet to test the waters, and launch yourself forward into Eddie’s chest, knocking him out of the way to start running. 

“Goddamnit!” He grunts. 

You make it a grand total of two paces before Eddie easily whips you around, pinning you against the wall. His nostrils flared, he reaches into his back pocket, brandishing the knife again. A scream dies in your throat as he places the glinting silver’s blunt edge against your neck. 

“I didn’t want to use this. But I told you not to run, didn’t I? Didn’t I?!” His voice thunders inside the trailer, and you flinch backwards, hyper-aware of the knife at your throat. 

The change in his demeanour makes you feel insignificant, like you never mattered to him. That realisation makes a lump catch in your throat. “You’re… you’re—“

He nods slowly, wide grin splitting his face. “Yeah. I am.” He replies mockingly, flipping the mask back on. “What did Jonathan say? Ghostface?” 

A part of you thought—hoped—that he would try to deny it. You’d believe any explanation he’d give you if you tried hard enough, because accepting anything else would be easier than this. 

Than accepting that your best friend is a serial killer. 

“Jason… man, the bastard knows how to fight,” Eddie laments, licking his busted lip behind the mask. He clenches and unclenches his bruised hands, silver rings stained with blood. “Pulled my fucking cloak off and everything—but what are you gonna do? I had a knife. He didn’t. Bled out on my clothes but he knew it was me.” 

You don’t want to hear this. You can’t hear this.

You look desperately for an escape, eyes darting until you spot something that makes your stomach swoop violently, grief ripping through you at the prospect. 

Steve’s white Nikes, covered in blood. 

You turn to Eddie shakily, eyes wide. “Did you kill Steve?” 

He softens, trailing the knife over your cheek. You’re as still as you can be despite your body feeling like it’s vibrating, knowing too well that the smallest of movements could kill you. 

“So sweet. So naive. My flower.” He whispers. “You think I strung Tina and Higgins’ big ass up on those goalposts myself?” 

“No…. He—Steve?” You blubber, another wave of grief washing over you. You’ve just lost two of your best friends in the space of five minutes and you don’t have the time to think about the implications. You just need to make it out alive. “Why? Why did you do this? Why did you kill those people, Eddie?” 

“Because there’s only so much a person can take. I mean, a year passed since Jason sicced his merry brigade of uptight Catholics on me. They all got to move on, get college scholarships, access to trust funds and opportunities to get out of this shithole. Me? I was gonna stay here and rot.” He seethes. “I tried my best to keep it under control. To push my urges down. But then I saw Carol bump you in that hallway, and I remembered what Tommy did to you at that party. That’s when I decided to end it.”

“How do you know about that?” You shudder. 

“Harrington told me everything. Y’know for someone who secretly loves killing, he protested far too much in the beginning. Though, in his defence, I think he was a little cooked after the whole Russian torture thing. It was a perfect plan, really. I killed the people on his list—he killed the people on mine. Solid alibis. No connection.” 

“I never asked for this. For any of it. You don’t get to pin your sick little indulgences on me, Eddie.”  

He flinches, recoils at your words. “But I did it for you. To keep you safe. Why don’t you get that?!” 

Salt falls from your eyes, trails down your face until your cheeks and neck are wet, a lump in your throat. “Are you going to kill me?”

He stares in awe at the pulse visible under your neck, lightly traces his knife over it. He may not even dignify your question with a response; all he would have to do is press in and you’d bleed out right on Mr. Munson’s orange carpet. 

“I told you that you’re always safe with me, do you remember that?” When you ignore his question, he uses the knife to tip your chin up and takes the mask off. “Answer me.”

His eyes soften when he waits for you to answer, as though hanging onto your words for desperate validation. You get a glimpse of the Eddie you know—knew. 

Your Eddie. 

“Yes.” You reply truthfully. 

“So how can you ask that? How could you possibly think I’d kill you?” 

“Then why stalk me? Why send me the flowers—the letters—if I wasn’t next on your list?” You sob. “You must’ve known what I’d think, that I was scared. Why did you do that?”

“Because I love you.” He whispers reverently, closing in on you. His eyes soften, and when he says those four words, it’s Eddie. Eddie, despite the blood spatter on his neck and arms. It’s why it takes your breath away, because you can’t disregard it as the ramblings of a madman. 

There’s some truth to it—even if it is sick. 

And you hate yourself more for wanting him. 

He sheaths the knife in his back pocket, closing the distance between you. “Do you have any idea…how long I’ve wanted you? How I’ve had to keep tabs on you from afar because I was afraid of what you’d think about me? I’ve wanted you since the day you moved here, way before we ever even met.” 

You hate him. You hate yourself. You hate this. 

Your palm makes a cracking sound against his cheek, leaving a blooming red mark on his face. “I hate you.”

His lips brush against yours. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes. I fucking hate you, Eddie. You broke my trust.” 

“I know.”

Your fists beat down on his chest and arms, throwing punches against a solid chest. He grunts and takes the brunt of your beat down silently, your palms picking up the blood from his soaked t-shirt. It’s only once you’re reduced to tears that he stops you, encircling both of your blood-stained wrists and pulls you close to his chest. 

“I hate you.” You repeat in a small voice. 

“Yeah?” He asks, looking down at you. 

He looks more like himself now, the version that makes you laugh, and loves to read, and has a rich imagination. The Eddie who makes your breath catch in your throat. His gaze is heated, loaded with the challenge of your hatred for him, as though he’s waiting for you to prove it. 

His lips are plump and red, the divot on his chin pronounced. 

“You really hate me?” He whispers. “Because I’ll let you go. You can go to the police, have me arrested, I don’t care. I just want you.” 

You launch yourself at him, crushing your lips against his for a burning, all-consuming kiss. Your knees buckle at the long-awaited contact, his lips full and soft, yet demanding when they slide over yours, capturing your mouth with a bruising intensity. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to him so forcefully that it makes you mewl, the soft contours of your body moulding against his harder ones, blood soaking into your pale pink dress. 

You pull away, panting for breath. “I hate you.” You chant. “I hate you. I hate you.” 

He kisses you harder. 

Your hands tangle in his hair as his lips devour you, hungry tongue meshing with yours. He moans in pain when you suckle his bruised bottom lip, the sound going straight to your core. He frantically reaches to touch as much of you as he can, presses his body against yours to make your chest heave with pleasure.

You pull away, looking at him hesitantly. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” He pleads, voice cracking. “Don’t look at me like you’re scared of me.”

“I am scared, Eddie.” You whisper, a tear escaping your eye. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I meant it when I said I’d never hurt you. I just wanna take care of you. Make you feel good the way you deserve. Will you let me do that? Can I show you? Please?” 

Despite your fear, you’re warming to the idea that he’s still the Eddie that checks on you in the middle of the night, the Eddie that once drove an hour at 3:00am to pick you up from a party. 

You swallow. “Yes.”

His warm eyes sparkle, capture your lips in another heated kiss. He moans desperately into your mouth as your lips slide over one another, panting as he firmly runs his hands up your hips, trailing up your ribcage and to your arms. He pins your hands above your head, stretching your body out and shoves his knee between your legs.

You break away from his mouth in pleasure, the coarse denim of his jeans rubbing against your panties. Your mouth falls open, head lolling back against the wall. 

“Oh, you needed this, huh?” He says darkly, rocking his knee between your legs. “You like me. And you hate yourself for it.” 

You chase his mouth but he dodges, a wicked look on his face. You fist your hands in his shirt collar and pull him down to capture his full lips between yours again, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

Eddie groans, his mind immediately jumping to how you’re capable of drawing blood for him too, even if it is his own. His cock twiches. “That’s my fucking girl.” He murmurs, dragging his thumb against his lip to wipe the blood. “You’re not as innocent as you look, huh?” 

You wrap your hand around his large wrist, bring his hand to your own mouth to smear his blood on your lips. His eyes gleam, cock painfully hard. Your gaze falls to his lips, bruised and bleeding, blood in his mouth and on his chin. 

“Go ahead.” He smiles knowingly.

You let the tip of your tongue trace the blood on his chin and lick upward until you trace the seam of his lips. He swallows your next breath with a bruising kiss, your lips coming together in a frenzied, sick heat, the taste of copper and warm blood coating your tongue. 

He squeezes your hip with a large hand, brings you down to grind against his knee, the act debasing but you don’t care. Eddie makes you crazy, his broad build, his possessiveness; his dark side. 

“C’mon. Let me see that pretty face when you cum. Go ahead. Cum on my thigh like the sick little thing you are.” He murmurs, looking down at the mess you’re leaving on his jeans. He roughly forces you to look down, his hands framing your face. “Look at that. Look at the mess you’re leaving. Soaking fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you yet, do I make that cunt leak, baby? That all for me?” 

“Yeah, Eddie. For you. For you.” You chant.

“Atta girl. Cum for me now. Cum on my thigh.” He coos, rocking his leg up into you. “Let go, c’mon.” 

The coil in your stomach wraps tighter around itself, Eddie’s rough words making you throw your head back in a silent moan as you finally come undone. He holds you close to him, an arm around your waist to help you ride out your orgasm, your arms around his shoulders, held in a tight embrace as he continues to grind his knee into your pussy.

“Oh that’s it, that’s my pretty fucking girl. So good for me, doing exactly as I ask you. So fucking good, baby. Just breathe—you got it. Good girl.” 

His words somehow prolong your orgasm, your pussy convulsing around nothing, until all you can do is dig your nails into Eddie’s shoulders and cry. 

When you come down, you’re languid, but renewed, wanting more. Both of your eyes are blown, heady with lust, and Eddie brings your mouth back to his, unable to stay away. 

Cradling the back of your head, he licks into your mouth and you angle your head to kiss him deeper, hungry for more as you mewl into his mouth, scrambling against the wall. You tug at his t-shirt, pull him closer by his belt loops, and he moans at your show of control. 

Sinking to your knees, you keep your eyes up and on Eddie as you watch him register your movement, his brows furrowing with exertion. He plucks his blood-soaked t-shirt off his body, drops of crimson staining his abdomen and his hands now. 

You look up at him with wide eyes. He’s intimidating from this angle, tall and broad, but still lithe; ink and blood covering his pale chest and arms. You trace the scratches on his lower abdomen, shivers erupting on your skin at the realisation of how he really got them.

You kiss the still-red marks, tonguing over his v-line and lower abdomen, bluntly scratching at the smattering of hair that leads below his jeans. 

He cups your chin tenderly, leaving behind blood. “Tommy begged for his life. Begged me not to kill him, but I did anyway. Made him bleed out right by the pool while Carol watched. For what he did to you.” 

You should hate this. You should get off your knees and leave. But you can’t. Not when you’re one orgasm deep and you’re wet between the legs. Not when you’re about to worship this man. 

You kiss his hand, then his stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses over his abs, tracing the tip of your tongue over the red scratches. You move over, scratching your nails down his stomach to mirror the other side, leaving angry red marks. 

Why should Carol be the only one to get to mark him? 

He hisses through his teeth, hands hovering over your head hesitantly as you lick over the fresh marks with more kisses. “What? You jealous?” He laughs.

You answer him with another swipe at his v-line, red claw marks imprinting on his skin. The tent in his pants begs to be touched, and when you rub over his hard cock through his jeans, his thighs tremble. 

“Can I suck your cock, Eddie?” You ask innocently. “Please?” 

“Jesus fuckin—“ He grits out, bracing against the wall in front of him. “Go ahead, baby. Take my cock out, lemme feel your mouth.” 

You bite back a smile at his eagerness as you undo his belt, shakily pulling down his jeans and boxers together to free his cock. You swallow, your skin heating at the sight of his cock; average length but the girth takes you off guard, his tip red and leaking pre cum. 

He looks at you knowingly, like he knows he’s going to destroy you when the time comes, but until then, he’s going to bide his time with your mouth. He groans breathily when you stroke the length of him, using both hands to twist and pull, goosebumps erupting on his skin. 

“Shit, shit, shit. That’s it. Squeeze a little tighter there—ah—fuck. Oh, that’s it, baby.” 

You sweetly suck on his tip, licking up his pre cum. Eddie’s abs twitch when your tongue swipes over the vein on the underside of his cock, and you make a mental note to tease him with that. His hips jerk forward on instinct, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth, his hands hovering over your head.

“Like that, Eddie? Am I doing a good job?” You ask, kissing his tip. 

“Yeah, baby. Such a good job like I knew you would. Need a little more.” 

You work way down the shaft, laying wet, open mouthed kisses on his heavy cock, languidly slapping his tip against your tongue. Eddie’s chest flushes with exertion. He looks down at you with hooded eyes, his expression darkening when you take his hands and direct them to your head, silently asking him to take control. 

“Show me what you want, Ed. Do it exactly how you wanna.” You murmur letting his cock slap your tongue. 

You stay like that; mouth wide and tongue out for him to take the lead. A splitting grin takes over his face as he nods, gently gathering your hair on top of your head. 

“My best girl.” He whispers.

He thrusts into your mouth slowly at first, tentatively testing the waters, but as your warm, wet mouth invites him in for more, his thrusts get deeper and more aggressive. Tears prick your eyes as his thick cock reaches the back of your throat with each rough thrust, his hands pulling your head forward. 

“Fucking Christ, your mouth. So pretty with your lips stretched out around my cock, on your knees for me.” 

You nod as he punctuates his sentence with a harsh thrust that makes you gag around him, and you feel him twitch in your mouth, spit and precum messily trailing down your chin, covering his balls and thighs in a slick sheen. 

He wheezes, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yeah… you’re my filthy little girl, aren’t you? Love taking my cock any way I’ll give it to you, huh?” He lightly slaps your cheek, feels the vibration against his cock and throws his head back in pleasure, his hair a halo around his head. 

“So pretty, so fucking pretty—my angel. My pretty little angel. A little wider—shit—just like that.” Eddie whines incoherently when you reach up and massage his balls, slick with your saliva while he holds you in place and fucks your mouth. “Thank you, baby—fuck. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Tears stream down your face, but you’re drunk on the taste of him, your pussy throbbing with his words and needy voice. You’re galvanised knowing that on your knees, you’re capable of reducing a man as powerful and terrifying as Eddie to this. 

A whining, whimpering, mess. 

He withdraws from your mouth with a drawn out groan, his cock twitching in front of your face. You glance up at him, a flush spreading from the centre of his chest to his neck, his ears and cheeks bright red, lips swollen from biting them. 

“C’mere.” He murmurs, dragging you up by your throat—not even with enough force to reduce your airflow—but as a possessive gesture, a means of control. 

He disregards the mess on your face and kisses you in a desperate clash of teeth and tongues and heavy breaths, his cock pressing against your tummy. He swallows your moans and whimpers with a light grip on your throat as he takes the breath from your lungs. 

  “Let's get you off your feet, what do you say?” He rasps. 

You nod, hooking your arms around his neck as he sweeps you off your feet, dark gaze burning yours. He throws you on his creaky mattress, leaving you to crawl upward as he stalks towards you like you’re his prey. 

Shoving your knees apart, he strokes your calves, laying gentle kisses on your now sore knees. “You trust me?” 

You take a beat, making sure to run the scenarios through in your head. “Yes.”

He reaches for a knife from his bedside table, and your skin turns red hot, equal parts desire and terror mixing like a cocktail under your skin. 

“Eyes on me, okay? Just relax.” He coos, kissing your forehead. “Not gonna hurt you.” 

He settles between your legs, and despite you being the one fully clothed out of the two of you, you feel vulnerable but safely kept. He scrapes the blunt edge of the knife gently down your neck, circling your pulse point. It scratches against your collarbone as he continues its descent down in your skin. 

You close your eyes as he hooks it around the neckline of your dress, and you feel him stall, remember his words.

Eyes on me. 

“Good girl.” He breathes when you force yourself to look at him. 

With a sharp tug of the knife, he cuts a jagged line down the centre of your dress, starting at your neckline and ending just above your belly button. You startle at the sudden movement and jump slightly but a hand on your hip holds you down. Slowly, he takes the two halves of the dress and rips with his bare hands all the way down until it falls open at your sides. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re perfect.” Eddie rasps, trailing the knife back upwards. 

“Don’t tease, Eddie.” You whine, shivering at the cold. 

“Patience, my flower. I like to draw things out.”  

You stiffen, the reminder of his extra curricular activities reminding you of who he is. He dips down and places a sweet kiss on your lips to absolve you of your worries, then with a tattooed hand, drags the knife between your breasts, then to the left. The sheets in your hands are the only traction you have as he circles your nipple with the knife, flicking the bud with the metal. 

“One wrong move…” he reminds you. “One wrong move, and this could end terribly for you, couldn’t it?” 

You whimper, nodding. 

“Good thing you trust me. Better thing that I love you.”

He trails it down your stomach, watching the goosebumps appear on your skin as he travels south, the muscles under your skin jumping at the touch. The cold metal reaches your panties, scraping over your covered mound, and despite the imminent danger, you feel yourself dripping for him. 

“You’re doing really good, baby. Proud of you.” 

He goes further still, careful to always use the blunt edge of the knife, but with the weapon out of sight, you’re forced to hyper focus on the sensation, figure out which part is where. You cry out when the cold metal bumps against your puffy clit through your panties, your hips bucking. 

Eddie laughs throatily, a wide grin on his face. “Oh, was that good? You liked that, didn’t you? My depraved little angel.” 

“Yes, Eddie. Please, I need more.” 

“That’s right, you do. Well done.” 

You feel tension against the waistband of your panties before it snaps, your panties cut off at the legs. Eddie pulls you up roughly, dragging your panties off you and leaving you fully exposed and open to him. Gathering them in his hand, he brings them to his face, inhales deeply as his eyes roll back into his head. 

”Fucked my hand over n’ over again with the panties I took from you. Wrapped around my cock pretending it was you, whispered your name when I came. You know that?” 

His words make you squirm and he laughs knowingly. Gripping your chin gently, he tells you to open up so he can slip your panties into your mouth. The salty sweet taste of you floods your mouth, your slick coating your tongue and the cotton. 

“You keep nice and quiet for me, I swear I’ll make it worth your while, baby. Can you be good for me?” 

He’s in control and he knows it and it makes you writhe in pleasure. You nod eagerly, pussy fluttering at the prospect of what he has planned for you. 

He slaps your cheek lightly again. “Good girl. Nice and quiet, yeah?” 

He yanks you to the edge of the bed by your ankles and brings your legs to wrap around his waist, turning you as he lays on his back, moving up the bed. 

“C’mon, baby. Come sit on my face, gimme that pretty pussy.” 

You hesitate, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but he takes your hands in his, pulls you forward until you're straddling his waist. “C’mon. Let me taste you, baby. Please?” He coos.

Hooking two arms around you, he moves you up until you’re hovering above his face, the change in dynamic making your insides clench. 

“Please, baby. Just wanna taste you. Please? Let me kiss that pretty pussy?” He whines, tugging on his cock. 

You tentatively lower yourself onto his face, the only thing visible to you now, his upper face. He latches onto your pussy immediately, sucks your clit between his plump lips and your hips buck, trying to put some distance between you and the source of your pleasure. He moans loudly into your pussy, thick tongue and full mouth messily kissing your cunt, strong jaw anchoring you.  

“Such a sweet fucking pussy, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me… could get drunk on the taste of you, so fucking wet, dripping down my face—my God.” He whines, hooking his arms around your legs to keep you flush to him.

Your legs tremble around his face—his face—blissed out and so full of concentration. You lean down and push the hair off his forehead, and he moans in pleasure, sucking your clit harder as you pull slightly on his scalp. 

“That’s it, baby. Grind on my face, use my tongue. Make yourself cum for me, baby. Grind on me.” 

Your heart beats erratically as you slowly work your hips in circles on Eddie’s face, moans and whimpers muffled by the panties in your mouth. His hands reach up to squeeze your tits, pinching your nipples almost painfully and pleasure sparks at the base of your spine. 

“C’mon, pretty girl. Make me proud. Cum for me.” He encourages, flicking your clit with his tongue. The sound of Eddie’s mouth and your wet pussy fill the room as you chase your release, melting into him while pleasure washes over you in waves. 

You cum with a silent scream, head thrown back and focus on the feeling of Eddie’s hands on your tits and mouth lapping at you. You come crashing down, electricity crackling at the base of your spine as you pull on Eddie’s hair. 

You fall onto your hands with blood thrumming in every single nerve ending, your hair sticking to your neck with exertion. Eddie lays a messy kiss on your clit before lifting you off him and gathers you in his arms. 

He checks your face for signs of concern, but you’re utterly blissed out. Unpicking the panties from your mouth, he wipes the saliva from your chin to kiss you. You’re boneless in his arms, trusting him to hold you up, sweaty body flush against his as his mouth moves over yours. He consumes your being, wanting you from the inside out, your entire body vibrating with need, more so when you feel his cock jump between your legs. 

“You’re so hard, Eddie. So thick.” 

He swears under his breath as you tug at his cock, heavy and warm in your hand. He grips your throat, a smile making its way onto your lips as he regards you with a knowing look. 

A look that he knows you’re his. That you’re just as twisted as he is. 

He spins you around, your back flush to his tattooed chest and grips your chin to make you look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. You stroke him languidly, feeling his sticky precum coat the tips of your fingers while his fingers spread your pussy lips. 

“Look at yourself.” He urges, kissing your cheek. “Look at how wrecked you are, spread out and naked for me. Look at how good we look together, my flower. Look.” 

The sight in front of you makes your knees buckle. Next to Eddie’s guitar, is your reflection, blissed out with your hair matted to your face, legs spread wide while Eddie’s ringed fingers rub your clit. Behind you, Eddie watches the reflection, his tattooed chest and abdomen littered with scratches and bruises. 

Both of you are stained with blood, handprints marking your throat, your hips, your tits, actual remnants of a crime on your bodies, mixing with sex. 

“Keep your eyes on that mirror, baby. Whatever you do, do not take your eyes off that mirror. You got that?” 

“Yeah, Eddie. Anything you want.” 

He lays a kiss under your ear to soothe the sting of two thick fingers plunging into your pussy, your head lolling back. The slick coating your thighs and pussy makes it easy for him to slide in, the sting soothed by the pleasure of him hooking his fingers inside you. 

“Ohh, I know you like that, don’t you, my girl? That feels good inside my pretty baby’s pussy, huh? You wanna close your eyes but you can’t, can you?” He coos mockingly, lightly slapping your cheek. “No, you can’t. Because you said you’d do anything I want. So you’re gonna stay right here…and I’m gonna finger this pretty little cunt to get you ready for my cock.” 

“Eddie…” you whine, palming his cock. “That feels so good, your fingers… so thick.” 

“I know, baby. I know.” 

He withdraws his fingers and plunges them deep inside you with each word, drawing out your pleasure like a length of elastic; tension building and building precariously close to a snap. The heel of his palm rubs against your clit as his pace increases, a furious work of his wrist leaving you hanging onto his arm for dear life. 

“Cum, baby. Come on, gimme another one, I know you can do it. Do it for me, baby, let me feel you squeeze my fingers.” 

“Gonna cum, Eddie…so close.” You whimper. 

You watch his biceps flex and his shiny, slick covered fingers as you come undone. You’re decidedly full, but not full enough, fluttering around his fingers wildly as he talks you through your release. Your eyes go hazy with ecstasy as you fight to keep them open, to watch his onslaught like you promised you would. 

“Good girl, good fucking girl. Pretty eyes on me, yeah? Just breathe baby, you’re doing so good. So fucking good squeezing me like that. So pretty.” 

When your heartbeat comes down, he kisses your cheek, holding his ring and middle fingers up to the light, your slick stretching between his fingers. 

He brings them to your mouth. “Suck.” He says simply, gasping when your tongue presses against his fingers to lick the taste of yourself off him. 

“Sweet?” He asks. 

You nod around his fingers. 

“Well done, baby. We’re not finished yet, though.” 

With a large hand on your upper back, he pushes you down into his pillows, the smell of him surrounding you like a haze. His sheets are rumpled, but a welcome reprieve, they smell like him and in a way, it’s like laying on him. 

Eddie’s large hands angle your hips upwards just slightly, the rest of you still face down on the mattress. You feel the blunt head of his cock slide up and down your slit, your sloppy cunt making him slip. 

A sharp crack lands on your ass, making you jump, the pain soothed by a cool relief as Eddie massages the skin, pulling at it posessively. He squeezes you hard enough to leave bruises but it only spurs you on, the sick thought of Eddie possessing you, marking you—owning you—makes you drip onto his sheets. 

“Eyes on me, remember?” He rasps from the exertion of controlling himself. “Keep those pretty eyes on me.” 

He braces himself over you with toned arms, his legs bracketing yours as he pushes the fat head of his cock inside you, agonisingly slow. His broad chest flushes a deep crimson. 

You feel him slide right back out of you, and try again, his lips between his teeth. “God fuckin’ damn it, you’re so tight, pushing me right back out.” He pushes in again, and you watch him mesmerised. “Let me in, angel, c’mon. Let me inside you, gimme that sweet cunt. C’mon.” He grunts. 

Every inch stretches you out, punching the air from between your lungs. You’re completely immobilised and at Eddie's mercy, trembling as he sheathes himself inside you. 

You gasp when he buries himself to the hilt, impossibly full and dizzy with pleasure. “Oh my God, Eddie, that’s deep. You’re so fucking deep inside me—so fucking big.” You sob, fluttering around his cock. 

He drops his entire body weight on you, pushing you further into the mattress, deliciously constricting your airflow. He pulls your arms out in front of you and interlocks his fingers with yours. 

You feel his chest vibrate when he speaks, a deep, quiet rumble that kisses the shell of your ear. “Yeah? That deep enough for my baby’s pussy, hm? Stretch you nice and good?”

You watch the carnal expression on his face as he slowly starts to grind into you, the angle bumping that spot deep inside you that makes your clit jump. You’re sensitive and pliant under him but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in close and snapping his hips, muttering filthy words into your ear. 

He pushes a thumb into your mouth. “Such a warm, wet, perfect cunt. The things I did for this pussy, to make you mine—God.” He grits. “You make me fucking crazy you know that? This pussy makes me crazy.” 

Every inch of his body presses against yours, your skin moulding to his, sweat slicked and sticky, both of your thighs covered in your slick. 

“Love your cock, Eddie. Love how you fuck me. Please, Eddie. Want more, please.” You whine, pulling his hair above you. 

He builds his pace steadily, his hips snapping into your while he sets a brutal rhythm, pressing you further into the mattress. The hot friction of your nipples rubbing against his sheets and his cock set your skin on fire. 

You barely register Eddie angle your hips up all the way before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you up—flush against him. 

“That’s better. Look at you—fucking ruined on my cock, aren’t you? Who else can fuck you like this? Who else makes you this fucking pathetic and desperate?” 

“Nobody, Eddie. Nobody. Just you, only you fuck me like this.” You choke out, legs trembling. 

With an arm around your waist to keep you steady, he hooks the other around your neck, effectively putting you in a light headlock. You’re so close to your release, so dizzy with pleasure that you’re on the verge of passing out. Your head lolls against Eddie’s shoulder and your eyes roll back, your face a sight with fat tears rolling down your cheeks. 

The lack of airflow increases the pressure inside of your body, fire pooling low in your stomach, making you drip . 

“That’s it, that’s it, there you go, there you fucking go. You like it when I choke you don’t you, my filthy little girl. Gonna make you cream all over my cock, want it soaking my thighs and balls, baby. Give it to me.” 

You can barely form words, settling for a litany of, “Yes, yes, yes. Right there, Eddie, don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” 

“Not gonna stop. Not until you’re crying. Now c’mon, gimme another one, let me feel this pretty pussy squeeze my cock, c’mon. Make me proud, pretty girl, cum for me.” 

You hang on for dear life as he fucks you right into another orgasm, your legs trembling and pussy convulsing around him, but he doesn’t let up. Pounds you right through your orgasm, skin slapping against skin, finally letting go of your throat so you can breathe again. 

“Good girl, good girl, good fucking girl, that’s it. There you go, just breathe—you got it. Just feel it, you got it, c’mon, keep going, keep going.”

White spots your vision as you ride out your orgasm and Eddie finally allows you to fall forward, draping his body over yours immediately. You pull at his hair to bring him closer, slowly grinding yourself against his cock as you come down, a panting, sweaty mess, drowning in bliss. 

You angle your head to kiss him lazily, his lips leaving your mouth tingling, tongue licking into your mouth. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re really fucking intense, Ed?” You tease against his lips. 

“Why? You hear somethin’?” He chuckles, kissing you deeply. 

He pulls out of you, tugging at his slick cock as he turns you over onto your back. You’re both dishevelled, and desperate, chasing a higher and higher release. 

You spread your legs and invite him to use your puffy, sensitive pussy, your thighs and hips covered in juices. He slides in easier this time, grinding all the way into the hilt so his pelvis bumps your clit, while his pick chain dangles in your face. 

You whine, gripping the sheets for an anchor as he starts to drive into you with a rough snap of his hips. 

“Eddie…” you whine. “Feel so good, so deep.” You whimper. 

“Yeah?” He grins, dimple splitting his cheek. He presses his hand into your stomach, withdrawing his cock almost all the way out and slamming back inside again. “Right here? You feel me there? Nice and deep inside this pretty angel cunt, made for me to fuck, isn’t it?” 

“Just for you, Eddie. Just for you.” You chant. 

Your slick smears everywhere, coating Eddie’s lower stomach and happy trail, his pelvis and balls, everything a filthy, sticky mess and you’re in heaven. 

You fist your hands into the pillow next to you, spot a flash of black and white. Pulling on the material, you reveal another mask, and your heart swoops nervously, your body stiffening. 

“You’re okay, baby. Nothin’ to be scared of—here.” He reassures you, slipping the hood on. It takes your breath away, having to reconcile Eddie’s body with the mask, but when he grinds his cock deep inside you, you snap back. “Just me. Just Eddie.” 

You reach for his shoulders and spread your legs to invite him closer, wanting to feel more of him. Eddie smiles behind the mask, knows the reaction you have to it—to him—to the implications. He hisses at the feel of your fingernails digging into his back, cock twitching at your possessiveness.

“You like that don’t you, baby? I know you like seeing me with the mask on, I can feel you fucking creaming on my cock. Makes you horny doesn’t it, knowing I killed for you? You’re twisted. Filthy.” 

You whine for him incoherently, feeling the muscles in his back flex and contract as he fucks you deep and fast, his creaky bed matching his rhythm. The mask cuts off Eddie’s breathing, makes it hard to inhale properly but finally having you under him, writhing and moaning his name the way he’s dreamed of makes him whimper. 

“Wanna see you, Eddie. Please. Wanna see your face.” You cry, reaching for his mask. 

He dodges your hands, pins them above your head with his stronger ones. “Tell me you’re mine first.” He grunts. “Tell me you’re fucking mine.”

“I’m yours, Eddie. I’m fucking yours, I’m all yours.” You offer freely, squeezing his hands. 

He slides the hood off, forehead shiny with sweat, bangs matted to his face as he drops his entire body weight on you, pinning your hands again. 

“That’s right. Mine to touch. Mine to taste. Mine to fuck. All mine.”

You’re dizzy with pleasure, taking whatever he gives you, your pussy squelching with each brutal pass of Eddie’s thick cock. “All yours, Eddie.”

“Tell me I’m yours.” He pants needily, using his body to drive you forward. 

“You’re mine, Eddie.” You sob, raking your nails violently down his back to prove it. “You’re mine. You’re mine, Eddie.” 

His cock jumps inside you, both of you closer to your release. “That’s right. You could try to forget any of this happened. But we both know, baby. You love this too much.” 

“God—Eddie. Please. Please, please…”

“Please what? You losin’ your words, now? So drunk on my cock filling you up, you can’t think straight?” He slaps your pussy lightly, clit puffy and sensitive. 

He grips your throat, making your head fall back and tongue loll out of your mouth uselessly. In a moment of pure possession, he lets a trail of his saliva drip into your mouth, kisses you deeply and thoroughly until you’re seeing stars and on the precipice. 

“Good thing I can think for the both of us, huh? Dunno what you’d do without me, my dumb little angel. Need me to protect you, don’t you? I know, baby, I know. I can give you what you need, don’t worry.” 

You’re reduced to blissful silence as Eddie bridges the gap between you and your release, his own, right on the edge as well. 

“Gonna come, Eddie. So close, please, please, make me cum. I love it, I love you. I love you. I love you—Eddie, fuck.” You sob, hanging onto his back, crescent shaped welts marking his skin. 

“Gonna make you mine, baby. Gonna make all this worth it. All of it, just a little more, yeah?” He pants, rhythm turning sloppy. 

“Yeah. Make me yours, Eddie. Please. Wanna be yours.” 

He drops his entire body weight against you, your stomachs pressing together as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Gonna cum inside this pretty pussy, baby. Make you mine forever, yeah?” 

You nod, biting down on Eddie’s shoulder as you cum, locking your legs around his waist to pull him in deeper. You convulse around his cock, pulling him impossibly close. Eddie moans into your neck as he reaches his release, teeth sinking into the skin below your ear as he cums deep inside you, his balls nestled against your ass.  

He thrusts shallowly inside you, shuddering as you both come down, sweating and entirely ruined. Brushing the sweaty hair off your face, he kisses you deeply, pulling away with dopey eyes. 

“Proud of you, baby. You did really good. Thank you.” 

Your eyes grow heavy, and you’re content to lean on him on the way to the cramped bathroom, have him wash the blood off both of your bodies. You register it against the white porcelain of the bathtub as it circles the drain. 

It takes a few weeks and slowly but surely, Hawkins returns back to normal. A week-long procession of back-to-back funerals are grim, your guilty conscience making you sick, but the sicker part of you wonders what else you could have Eddie do. 

Two weeks after Andy Clayton’s funeral, you sit in the backseat of Steve’s BMW and watch the houses go by. You narrow your eyes, tapping Eddie on the shoulder once the white house comes into view.

“That’s the house, Eddie.” 

“You sure, Sweetheart?” He asks, squeezing your hand. 

“Positive. Jenny told me she saw it happen, Father Elijah with that little boy.” 

“Alright. You heard her, Harrington. Let’s go.” He inhales sharply, getting out of the car. 

You join them outside, tugging on Eddie’s hands, stopping him as he goes to put his mask on. “You’ll be careful, won’t you, baby?” 

“Always am.” He smiles, bending down to kiss you.

——————————————————————————

tags: @fezcoismypimp @urlocaltwink @cottoncandywings @stardancerluv @hoe-for-fictional-men @momsaysimpunkrock @southside-serpent-bae @umm-megan @cozyyellowcardigan @binanas @imasimptoowth @adamdrivershairfluffer @a-laura @rosecolorgardens

[eddiemunsonssoulmate]

The only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: You and Eddie have some time to spare before D&D starts. It escalates quite quickly.

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected Sex, inappropriate use of a D&D table

Available on: AO3

A/N: I’ve fallen down the Eddie hole and I can’t get out. I’m a D&D player myself, so I had to use that poor playing table here.

♣ Eddie Munson Masterlist ♣

It was dark when you entered the cold hallways that lead to the Hellfire Club.

Your club shirt was freshly washed and ready for a long night of Dungeons and Dragons. Or, how other people would say, time for satanic rituals.

A low chuckle left your throat when you thought about it and all those newspapers and magazines talking about it, causing panic for parents. Yours didn’t care, also didn’t know you were playing the game. Otherwise they might care but then again, they were probably too busy.

All they cared about was your family image and “Stay away from Eddie Munson, he’s bad news.”

Thankfully they didn’t know that you were into bad news.

His cologne already covered your senses when you entered the Hellfire Club. Later on it would smell more like sweat and tears in here, depending on what he would throw at the group during the session.

You smiled to yourself when you saw him standing at the table, preparing his Dungeon Master screen with little notes.

“You’re so early,” you said and he looked up at you, a small grin on his lips.

“You know I have to prepare, sweetheart. The Dungeon Master is always early.” Eddie pushed himself away from the desk and walked over you. “Better question is, why are you this early? It’s at least thirty minutes until the others arrive.”

He put his hands on your hips and raised an eyebrow at you. You didn’t even realize you were that early, you just really wanted to see him before the others joined for the night.

Your relationship had been secret for a few months now and so far, no one had seemed to notice. You were just two friends playing that dumb fantasy game with other freaks. At least that's what it looked like to the other students.

No one knew about stolen touches under the lunch table and late nights in his trailer. No one needed to know that. For some reason it felt better that it was just the two of you. Easier.

If your parents knew about your relationship with the ‘School Freak and Drug Dealer’ Eddie Munson, they would try to cut your contact with him. If the other students would know, you would be a freak couple which you didn’t mind but it was just extra hassle right before graduation. Only a couple of months and you were out of here, off to college, mostly free from your parents and you didn’t need to hide anymore.

“I guess I just really wanted to see you,” you said with a shrug and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before taking your jacket off, placing it on your chair where he had already prepared your character sheet.

He turned around and looked after you, a happy grin on his lips. You knew his life wasn’t easy and that you had changed quite a lot for him, yet you would never get used to that happy little grin that was always directed at you.

“Besides,” you started, a little mischievous grin forming on your lips, “I wanted to see what you were up to behind your screen.” You quickly turned on your heels and hurried behind his seat, trying to get a glimpse at his notes.

A huff left his mouth when he started to come after you with quick steps, grabbing your hips and turning you around to face him and not his DM screen.

“That’s not very nice. Wouldn’t want my girlfriend to gain any advantages for the upcoming combat.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You loved when he called you his girlfriend, something he could only do when you two were alone. Gods, you yearned for the day he could say it openly.

“Combat huh? That’s good to know, given we’ve left off far away from any combat situations.” You bit your lips when you heard him groan in frustration.

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath and you laughed which seemed to mesmerize him. He always looked at you as you were his sun.

His look then turned into something intense and his eyes darkened slightly, his grip on your hips getting a little tighter. “We still got like twenty five minutes,” you mumbled before swallowing hard, the knot already building in your stomach.

He took a step forward and your backside hit the edge of the table. “Would hate to ruin your prep though,” you quickly added but it was too late.

He already swiped the DM screen off the table, a few notes and papers scattered across the floor with it and within a moment he had placed you on the table before him.

“I’m sure I’ll be a little more merciful during combat tonight if you can convince me to be nice,” Eddie said as he started to kiss your neck, making you lean back a little, opening yourself up to his kisses more.

This was actually the first time you were doing this in here. Normally there wasn’t enough time or Henderson was way too early but tonight it seemed like a good moment.

You certainly thought about it before. Being a Dungeons & Dragons player had just this extra kind of appeal to do it on the playing table.

Goosebumps covered your body when the long haired boy grabbed the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it over your head. It was a little cold down here. For now.

“I’ll warm you up, don’t worry,” he said as if he just read your mind. Your hands were still holding onto his arms covered in his leather jacket, gripping the fabric a little too hard for just some harmless makeout.

You needed him. Badly.

He didn’t lose much time and started to push your bra down on one side, playing with the hard peaks and you weren’t quite sure if they were hard because of the cold or because you were already aroused after so little of his touch.

A soft moan left your throat and your legs wrapped around him almost automatically. He took this as an invitation and laid you down on the table behind you, the cold wood pressing into your back, making it arch. Thankfully he didn’t start to prepare the map and the character minis yet, so they were still safe and sound in their box.

“You’re wearing too much,” you whined and clawed a little more at his leather jacket. His three layers of clothes were always such an annoyance when you tried to get them off on your own.

“As always, sweetheart. As always,” he chuckled and then leaned back to get rid of everything, throwing it somewhere on the ground where he had thrown your shirt too.

You let your hands run over his chest slowly, trying to reach as much skin as possible from your position and then stopping at his pants.

“You sure?” he asked and raised an eyebrow, a hand of his covering both of yours.

He was acting like this was your first time having sex somewhere despite the fact that he had been inside you more times than you could count. And yet, he took the time to ask because it was a different environment and you could change your mind any time.

“Yes, let’s not waste too much time. You know how early Henderson is here sometimes.” Your answer was followed by a little laugh and then he just grinned, letting go of your hands so you could open the button, shoving his pants and underwear down to his ankles. That had to be enough.

Your mouth watered a little when you saw his length already standing at attention, begging for your touch.

One of your hands grabbed his hard cock, pulling slightly and causing him to step back further into you. Your legs wrapped around him once again and his heat radiated against your sensitive center.

He grabbed your wrists and put them at the side of your head, looking into your eyes for a long moment before smirking and then kissing you roughly. You gasped against him which caused him to put his tongue in your mouth, his naked lenght pressing harder against you.

“Eddie, please,” you whined, feeling how the wetness was pooling between your legs in your panties.

“Soon,” he whispered against your ear, “I want you to feel all night long what I did to you, right here.” He bit your earlobe before kissing your neck again, still holding onto your wrists.

Bastard, he was taking his time with you so your panties would be drenched before taking off your clothes, knowing you would feel it during the whole session later on. He loved shit like that.

You did too, if you were honest.

So he was grinding against you and out of pure reflex, you were grinding back against him. He didn’t seem to mind the rougher fabric of your jeans against him as he was busy placing kisses on your nipples and the soft flesh of your breasts, sucking lightly, leaving a bite here and there. One of them would give you a hickey for sure.

You had this rule that there were no visible hickeys allowed or people might start to ask questions. Thankfully, the skin of your breasts right under the edge of the bra weren’t a place that people got to see, so it had turned out to be his favorite spot to leave love marks.

Sweat started to build on your body from the pure torture he put you through, you hated when you couldn’t do anything. You wanted to touch him, to feel him, to have him inside of you but he took his sweet, sweet time.

“Cmon Munson, we really don’t have that much time.” You tried to sound stern, hoping he would finally take your pants off but he just laughed against your skin.

“You’re right, you’re right. Don’t pressure your Dungeon Master,” he mumbled against your belly where his lips had just arrived. “This is a special location to do that shit, so I want to make you feel special.”

Eddie leaned back and started to open your pants, painfully slow and you could have cursed at him. The grin on his lips told you he knew exactly what you were thinking.

You unwrapped your legs shortly for him to pull your pants down and you kicked them off one ankle quickly before wrapping them back around him, pulling him closer to you within a heartbeat.

“You look so gorgeous with that blush on your face and your bra in that chaotic position,” he said and chuckled, grabbing your one free breast with his hand while the other one was still mostly covered by your bra. It might have been uncomfortable but all you could think about now was his length between your legs, skin against skin. His cold rings against your heating skin made you shiver even more and you had a hard time swallowing the moan.

You could see precum glistening on it and it seemed that the waiting and teasing had affected him quite a lot.

When you thought he would push inside of you, he surprised you and crouched down a little. He let his tongue glide between your folds and you moaned loudly, not expecting him to do that right now.

“You’re so goddamn wet and taste so good.” He stood back up again and lined himself up against you, licking his wet lips before leaning down and capturing your lips into a kiss. Only a second later you felt him press against you, the tip of his cock pressing against your tight entrance.

It was no trouble for him at all to get inside you with how wet you were. You both moaned against each other's lips when he sunk himself into your wetness. When his full length was completely inside of you, he stilled and pulled away from the kiss, looking into your eyes.

“Fuck, that look,” he mumbled and you felt him twitch inside of you. “I want to, disrespectfully, fuck the shit out of you.”

“Please, go ahead. Show me what you’ve got, Dungeon Master,” you replied to his wish and he growled, placing his hands next to your head so he could support himself. You grabbed his arms, bracing yourself.

Eddie pulled out of you, clenched his jaw for a moment in the process before slamming right back into you.

You had to bite your bottom lip or the moan would have been too loud to be appropriate. No matter how often the two of you had sex, it always felt like a high you would never come down from.

Even in the faint light you could see that he was also blushing now, a faint red covering his cheeks as he started in a slow rhythm. His hair was falling over his shoulders close to your face, tickling you a little.

“Eddie,” you groaned and tried to catch his hips in a faster rhythm, trying to convince him to finish with this teasing.

“What? I don’t think I went in hard enough yet, so could you form a whole sentence?” The smug grin on his face deserved to be punched but there was nothing you could do when he finished his sentence with a rough thrust inside of you, making the table shake.

“Just fuck me already, please. I want you before the others arrive. We need to clean up and-” You didn’t get the chance to get the rest of your sentence out because he started a rougher, faster pace right away, making you choke on the sounds that wanted to leave your throat.

“Gods, I love it when you beg for me,” he whispered and you almost didn’t hear it, the slapping of skin too loud down here, echoing off the walls a little.

You would have protested that you didn’t beg, wanting to somehow throw something back at him but with the way he moved inside of you combined with the look he gave you, there were no words leaving your mouths. They all turned into moans of pleasure.

He took his arms away to grab your hips, trying to get a better hold of you so you weren’t moving so much on the table. If you were honest, you had no idea how the old table was holding up with his pace.

You noticed how he couldn’t focus his eyes on one spot. He was looking down between where you were joined and where the wet noises and skin slapping came from, then he looked at how your breasts bounced up and down, the bra merely an accessory now and then he looked at your face and smiled slightly.

For a moment you wished you could read his mind but that thought was gone within a moment when you felt his cold rings down at the sensitive skin between you.

Eddie rubbed his thumb across your clit and you had to bite your hand to stop yourself from moaning too loud. The others could arrive any moment.

“I’d love to take my time with you,” he sighed and stilled inside of you for a moment, focusing on rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves, causing you to whine in frustration. “But I guess that has to wait until after the session.”

He started moving again while also rubbing your clit, the cold steel of his rings giving another level of pleasure and he moved even faster and harder than before, hitting all the right spots inside of you.

Your legs were clenching so hard around him, your insides were a big knot and your head started spinning with the pleasure running through your whole body.

Eyes closed in bliss, you only heard how he started to pant more, cursing under his breath and his movement got more erratic. He was close but so were you.

You tried to hold out a little longer but another swipe of his thumb caused you to shrudder, back arching which caused him to slip deeper inside of you. The walls of your insides started to spasms around him, coaxing him into an orgasm of his own.

“Fuck,” was the only thing you heard from him when you felt him come inside you, his warm seed covering your insides.

Eddie slumped forward a little, his hands grabbing yours and placing them back besides your head. He looked at you with a lazy smile, drops of sweat on his forehead.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look after you have an orgasm?” he asked and you laughed.

“Yes, about every time I have one,” you replied and he leaned his head to the side a little.

“Really? I don’t remember hearing it that much from you, I think you don’t have enough orgasms.” You were about to reply to him but then he moved his hips, his tip stroking against that sweet spot inside of you once more.

The young man put his forehead against yours and both of you rested like this for a moment.

It was really only a short moment before you heard the telltale sound of the door and a loud “HELLFIRE!” that sounded like it came from Henderson.

A couple of seconds passed before you realized what was going on.

“Shit,” he groaned and slipped out of you, almost tripping over the pants that were hanging on his ankles.

A moment of panic overcame you as you were sitting up straight but he stopped you, cupping your hot center with his hand.

“I told you, I want you to feel it all night long,” he whispered as he was pulling your panties up, replacing his hand with them.

“I-” you started but he already had his lips back on yours, swallowing any protest. His cum would stay inside of you for the whole session.

You heard footsteps and he quickly pulled his pants up while moved off the table and got your pants back in place.

Eddie threw you your Hellfire Club t-shirt and pulled his own over his head too, placing his jackets on his chair.

Both of you quickly hurried to get the things you threw onto the ground while the footsteps grew louder. You winced with every movement you did, panties full with his cum and your own wetness, making you even more wet.

His eyes were on you, watching you and you threw him a look that was a combination of annoyance and lust. He just chuckled and winked at you, trying to get up his DM screen once more.

“Hey guys!” Dustin said as he was entering, followed by Mike and Lucas.

“Welcome!” Eddie replied with a great gesture of his hands.

“Hi.” You waved at them, hoping your hair looked fine and your blush was gone from your face.

The three kids were taking their seats and you lifted your character sheet up from the floor, placing it back on the table.

Just looking at that piece of wood made you blush a little but thankfully it was dark enough here so no one should notice.

“Did you wash your shirt too hot?” Mike suddenly asked and looked at Eddie. He raised an eyebrow and that’s when you saw it.

It was fitting really tightly around him. Too tightly.

Meanwhile your own shirt was hanging a little too loosely from your body. Fuck.

“Yeah, that must be it. I’ve been wondering why it was like that, I’m not good with laundry,” he said with a nonchalant shrug before he looked at you.

It was barely noticeable but his jaw clenched and that little vein on his neck started to show.

His look told you he would gladly take that shirt back later.