#eddie is absolutely correct

[lovecolibri]

Okay, but I am *obsessed* with these FaceTime calls because we have talked a lot about the Abby parallels/contrasts with Eddie leaving but still keeping in constant contact, but have we talked about the Shannon parallels/contrasts???

Like, we see a video call in Eddie begins where Shannon basically uses Chris to get Eddie on the call so she can pick a fight (forcing Chris into the middle of it) about something she KNOWS Eddie does not have the capacity to sit and discuss with her at the moment. Like, he's not at an office job dodging her calls and coming home late so they can't talk, he's literally in an active war zone and flying off to rescue injured soldiers and he is STILL trying to do the video call while being berated for being a bad dad and partner and feeling like a failure.

Contrast that with Buck being a calm, steady, reassuring presence every time Eddie reaches out, and affirms that Eddie can trust his instincts on what to do with his own son! He gives Eddie the support Eddie needs, and we don't see Eddie being forced into anything, or being caught at inconvenient times because they are communicating so clearly and talking whenever they can and working things out together!

It's just such a clear contrast to everything BOTH of them are used to from their previous partners and so full of love and support and having each other's backs like.....it's happening! It's happening on our screens before our eyes!

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I'm gonna be honest I've been making throuple jokes in DMs and I don't think I'll be stopping any time soon this is THEE FUNNIEST way the writers could have gone about this I'm kicking my feet and twirling my hair and having a BALL.

[kitausuret]

@abc2411 tagged me for this! 💕

Share the most recent line of your most recent WIP, or WIP of an art piece, and then tag as many people as you have words.

It was all well and good that both Hunter and Venom could change their outfits with no more than a thought, but Peter didn't have that luxury. 

I'm not going to tag people for this, so if you see this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged 😌

[lover-of-mine]

literally just woke up in the middle of the night with this realisation:

haven't jolink also had the 'if I die will you take my kid?' conversation?

unless I'm misremembering things because it's 3am and I just woke up 😅

(about luna at least - I know the scout side of things is different because of amelia)

I went to check, 18x05, they do have the conversation Jo is freaking out AND Link offers it like it's a given. Complete why are you even asking, of course I'm taking her. The jolink parallels are very real, but no one is quite doing that one like buddie lol

[novvav]

RRRRAAAGH this is so sweet thank you 🥹

I love your writing <3 I saw “he so likes her” on the enemies to lovers but I so saw it pairing with the “me? I wouldn’t say I was flirting.” On the denial of feelings list. Eddie absolutely oblivious to the heart eyes he’s making as he pulls his hair in front of his face while chatting together

ty angel! hope you like it :D — eddie munson visits you at work every day, but not because he likes you (enemies to lovers-ish, fluff, 1.1k)

You hear Eddie before you see him. The clinking of his silver rings, the swishing of his leather jacket, the thudding of his worn sneakers. His musky cologne swaddles you in a cloud of his subtle scent before he’s even there. You’re smiling about it all before you mean to.

Crouched in the X-rated section of Family Video, you restock the vulgar printed tapes and glance up at the boy towering over you. Eddie’s smiling, too — perhaps bigger than he realizes.

“Don’t tell me you came all this way to keep me company, Munson,” you tease with narrowed eyes.

“No,” the boy scoffs, a little less than convincing. He props his shoulder against the metal shelf and crosses his arms over his chest. “I have much better things to do with my Friday nights. Trust me.”

Your knees creak in protest when you rise to stand before him. You cross your arms to resemble his stance and try to be normal about your forearms brushing his. “Do you?” you lilt, obviously sarcastic.

“Yeah,” he nods with a crooked smile on his pretty pink mouth. “I could give you their names.”

“Spare me,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and spinning on your heel. Eddie follows you like a lost puppy to the front counter. “You know, if you’re gonna flirt with me, maybe try not to mention other girls. I think that’s, like, rule number one.”

Eddie’s face swirls at your words. The cartoonish look of confusion makes you smile as you round the checkout station. He forces a chuckle and props his elbows on the countertop, leaning over it in a desperate attempt to be closer to you.

“There are no—” he starts, then cuts himself off. There are no other girls, he’d say if he weren’t a total coward. But, for the sake of keeping his cards to his chest, he settles on, “—I’m not flirting with you.”

Your brow arches in a playful look of inquiry. “No?”

Eddie almost caves, then. It’s almost like you want him to say yes — to admit that he’s been flirting with you this whole time because he’s loved you since the moment he met you. It would be the truth, anyway. One that he’s spent over a year shying from.

“No,” he echoes and shakes his wild head, surprising himself with his own self-control. “No, I’m— We’re just— We’re having a conversation. ‘Cause, you know, we’re friends. I guess.”

His face scrunches like there’s something sour on his tongue. He doesn’t even like the taste of his own words. 

You squint. “Do all of your friendly conversations typically include making heart eyes at the other person?” you joke with a poorly held-back grin.

Eddie falters for a moment, knowing he’s long been found out. He decides to lie anyway. Dig the hole deeper, as it were. “Yeah, actually,” he nods. “You’ve seen the way I look at Steve, haven’t you?”

You laugh before you mean to. The sunshine sound sputters up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. Eddie must not realize how he often looks at Steve The Hair Harrington — with softly squinted eyes and gently furrowed brows — like he can never quite understand what the fuck the boy is talking about. 

“Right,” you nod, still giggling.

Eddie smiles at the pretty sound. The spearmint breath of your laughter fans across his cheek at the close proximity — one which neither of you seems eager to part from. “Yeah, so… Don’t let it go to your head, alright? There’s no flirting here.”

So you drove twenty minutes across town in a half-broken-down van to have a serious conversation? you’d ask if you felt like going around in circles.

Instead, you just nod. “Noted...”

“Now, tell me,” he starts, tilting his pretty head until his curls bunch at his shoulder. “What should me and my number of escapades watch for the evening? You know, as the resident expert and all?”

You laugh at the absurdity of his question. “I don’t know. Just— choose something,” you murmur unenthusiastically.

“I want you to choose for me,” he pouts.

“Why?” you retort, leaning against the counter to lessen the cavernous distance. 

The sudden closeness has a very obvious effect on the boy across from you. His adam’s apple bobs as his tongue darts across his bottom lip. You’re close enough to kiss now. He can almost taste you.

“So you can play it as background noise and think of me while you and this very fictitious person make out on your couch?”

“Well… I’ll probably be thinking about you either way, so…” Eddie answers when his senses return to him, shrugging with a stupid, lopsided grin. “Whether you recommend something or not doesn’t really matter.”

The look he gives you makes your stomach whirl. His eyes, made of melted chocolate, get all squishy at the edges when he looks at you. Something warm and fond swims in his gaze, speckles along his flushed cheeks, and sparkles in his smile. It’s so stupidly sincere for a boy who can’t seem to take anything seriously. The notion all but stabs you in the chest.

“You’re doing it again, you know?” you tease.

His fluffy brows pinch together. “Doing what?”

“The heart eyes thing.”

“There is no thing!” he insists with a loud, boyish laugh. “I’m just— I’m just looking at you! Is that a crime?”

“Just sayin’,” you singsong with an absentminded shrug.

Your gaze glimmers with knowing and something close to adoration as it flits up and down his form. Eddie squirms beneath your prying eyes. His ringed hands rise to his hair, gathering the untamed curls and hiding his blushing face behind them. 

“Here,” he mumbles behind his palms and chestnut locks. “Is this better for you?”

You giggle at his antics, slightly grieving his pretty face. “Much,” you nod despite yourself.

Steve and Robin watch the strange encounter from afar. They peer over the Action/Adventure aisle they’re supposed to be restocking — equal parts distracted and nosey. The boy’s scruffy face twists as he watches Eddie try hopelessly to flirt with you. “This is disgusting,” he murmurs under his breath.

“Do you think he knows?” Robin laughs, deep and gritty, as she stands on the tips of her toes to see over the metal shelf.

“Knows what?”

“That he’s obsessed with her?”

“Hell no! Look at him—” Steve scoffs, jutting his chin to the wild-haired boy across the room. 

Eddie’s got his rings all tangled in his hair now. His cheeks glow red as you help unknot the silver jewelry from his curls. He’s visibly embarrassed, but he can’t stop beaming at you. It’s borderline gag-worthy.

“—He’s got no fucking clue.”

[tommygotwrittenoff]

also love the idea of eddie bringing buck along to help out at some pta event and all the single parents are like 👀👀 and hit on him and eddies just losing his mind watching it happen

[shushmal]

Let it be known that Steve has zero problem with Eddie. Like, negative problems. So little problem that it kinda turns itself inside out and becomes a DIFFERENT problem. But, not like, a problem problem. Just a teeny tiny little maybe issue. Maybe. Whatever.

Anyways, Eddie's a hugger.

And, like Steve said, it's not a problem. Except that it kind of is.

"Oh, dude," Robin had said when he'd told her as much, and stared at him with this incredibly pained look in her eyes. "You have so many issues." And after that, he gets daily a Robin hug.

Which is great. But doesn't solve his not-problem with Eddie hugs.

Well, in a way, it does. Regular Robin hugs means that Steve isn't freezing up and freaking out when he gets an Eddie hug. Steve's really glad for that, because he'd been terrified that he was going to make Eddie think that Steve hated the Eddie hugs.

Which would be awful, because Steve kinda sorta maybe absolutely would-die-for the Eddie hugs. Steve loves the Eddie hugs, okay? Eddie should be hugging Steve all the time, actually.

He does, too. It's kind of awesome. Steve waives a late fee? Eddie's clamoring over the counter to hug him. Steve picks up the nerds from their nerd jail game? Eddie's half way through his window, hugging Steve's head. Steve brought pizza to movie night? Eddie gets his arms around Steve's waist and sighs happily into Steve's neck. It's pretty great.

It's the best thing ever.

And Steve knows logically that he's not special. Eddie's usually draped over someone for extended periods of time until he get's swatted off. He hugs everyone. Steve's not special. He does have to tell himself that a lot.

"Oh, dingus," Robin had sighed when he'd told her as much. Her look this time was a lot less pained and more exasperated. "So many issues." And he was rewarded with two Robin hugs that day.

Anyways, Steve has to remind himself all the time that he's not special. So it comes as a little tiny sorta maybe surprise when Eddie one night wraps Steve in his arms, sighing all happy and contented like he usually does, and says, "You're my favorite, Harrington. You give the best hugs."

And then he presses a kiss to Steve's cheek.

And a lot of things go through Steve's head in that moment. He doesn't have a clue what any of it is, but it all scrolls by like the Star Wars intro on too much sugar and too hard to read. Still, he arrives at the correct conclusion anyways.

"Oh," Steve says, before Eddie's lips have really left his cheek. "I'm in love with you."

Eddie reels back, his hands still on Steve's shoulders, big brown eyes now bigger than ever. Steve watches as his face goes pink, and pinker, and then bright red.

"Huh?!" It's a really ugly sound that Eddie makes, and Steve bites his lip to keep from laughing. It's cute.

"Yeah," Steve says. "I'm in love with you."

"... What?!"

[munsonsmixtapes]

Flattery Works With Me

Eddie Munson x shy!fem!reader

summary: with a predicament, the boys beg you to ask Eddie to postpone a DnD session because they know he will do anything you ask

part two

The conversations that were happening throughout the cafeteria rang in your ears as you headed to the table that you always sat at. The usual suspects were all there and you were going to take your seat right next to Eddie just like always. 

You were nervous to speak to him, not only because you were shy, but also because you had been meaning to ask him if the DnD session for that night could be postponed because you had a lot of homework. But you knew how he felt about that sort of thing so you were dreading it, hoping that he would agree just this once. 

Before you could sit, though, you could see Dustin, Lucas, and Mike all arguing a little ways away from the table. From the looks of it, it seemed to be pretty heated and there was no way you were getting in the middle of that. You hated hearing people argue, the loud voices always making you feel anxious because you didn’t have control of the situation. And you liked having control, craved it, even. 

But as soon as you set your tray down on the table, Lucas waved you over. You didn’t know what he was wanting, but you reluctantly made your way over to the boys, your curiosity piqued. You now had to know what their little spat had to do with you. 

“What’s going on?” You asked and Dustin was about to speak before Mike cut him off. That was something that happened often considering that Mike didn’t like how slowly Dustin would take to explain the situation. 

“Look,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. “We have a prior commitment and can’t make it to the session tonight.” You just knew that they were only telling you that because they wanted you to ask Eddie. 

“Correction: Mike was out late with El last night and got grounded so he can’t go to the session,” Lucas corrected with a roll of his eyes. 

“We were wondering if you’d talk to Eddie for us?” Dustin looked at you with hopeful eyes and the smile on his face made you want to pinch his little cheeks. 

“Why me?” You knew exactly why, but you wanted confirmation that Eddie did feel how you thought he did. That you weren’t just being delusional. Because that had happened so many times; you having a crush on someone and your feelings not being reciprocated in any way shape or form. 

“Are you kidding? The man is in love with you.” You scoffed at the comment, but couldn’t help but feel heat rise to your cheeks. Could it have been possible? You supposed you were going to have to ask, but you just couldn’t get yourself to. Asking him to postpone the session was one thing, but asking if he had feelings for you? Absolutely not. 

“Yeah, he’ll do anything you say.” There was some truth to that and if you had more confidence, you would have tested just how far you could get by batting your lashes and putting on a flirty tone. “So will you please ask him?” You were going to ask him anyway, but now there was pressure on you to actually make the move.

“Why don’t you ask him?” You didn’t understand why it had to be you. Surely he would have postponed it for them, right? 

Mike rolled his eyes and made a beeline for Eddie and you watched the conversation, barely picking up what they were saying, but Eddie definitely didn’t look happy. He then waved Mike off and the boy gave you a look as if to say “See?” 

“I told you, he won’t listen to us. But with you? I think we have a shot.” 

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. You really didn’t believe them, because why would Eddie have been interested in you? You had barely uttered a full sentence to the man in the few months that you’d known him so there was no possible way that he could have liked you like that. 

“Please?” Dustin begged one more time and the three of them jutted out their bottom lips, their eyes pleading. God, you really were a pushover. 

“Well, I do have a lot of homework to do tonight.” 

“I knew she’d do it,” Mike nodded with a smile and you ignored him, taking a deep breath and heading over to the metal head who was sitting at the end of the table. 

Eddie took no time to turn to you, a bright smile appearing on his face. You were so pretty that it was unfair and he kept wondering to himself what he had done to have been so lucky to have you in his life. He thought your shyness was adorable, the way he’d have to lean forward to hear what you were saying because of how soft spoken you were. 

And the dresses you always wore nearly killed him. The way they swung when you walked and how everyone would stare at you in the school hallway, he wondered how you didn’t realize just how beautiful you were. Surely you had to have known, but with the way you were always so surprised when he complimented you, it was clear that you had no idea. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you greeted him, trying your best to maintain eye contact with him, every time you caught sight of that beautiful brown color, you knew you’d be a goner. They were hypnotizing, so fucking pretty that it should have been a crime. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled, turning fully in his chair to face you. “Take a seat.” If he knew it wouldn’t have made you uncomfortable, he would have offered his lap. 

You hesitantly sat in the seat next to him and he could tell you were uneasy, your anxiety palpable. He let his hand inch towards yours underneath the table, letting his pinky stroke yours gently as if asking for permission to take it. Without a word, you wrapped your pinky around his, ignoring his gaze, unpacking your lunch with your free hand.

You felt your anxiety melt away as you felt his pinky squeeze yours gently, as if to tell you that he was right there for you. And he was. He wanted to make sure that you were okay, because at that point, you were his number one priority and he would stop at nothing to help you. He wished it was possible to go into your mind and quiet the voices that were always whispering to you.

“Can I ask you something,” you asked, feeling your hands shake as you realized what you were about to do. Your voice was barely above a whisper, but Eddie just leaned forward so he could hear you. His hearing wasn’t that great anyway, but he actually kind of liked that you were so soft spoken so he had an excuse to get closer to you. 

“Anything,” he replied, giving your pinky another squeeze and you beckoned him forward. Eddie leaned closer to you with no question and you nervously reached up and tucked some hair behind his ear, cupping your hand around it before leaning in and whispering into it. 

“I-I have a lot of homework to do tonight and I was wondering if it’d be okay if we postponed the session tonight?” You asked and felt your heart hammering in your chest as you waited for his answer. You pulled away from him and bit down on your bottom lip and Eddie had to stop himself from staring, wanting to pull your lip from your teeth and kiss you, not giving a single fuck about who was looking. 

You were so goddamn adorable that he felt his chest ache. Didn’t you know that he would do anything for you? Just one bat of those eyelashes and he would have even been willing to commit murder if it meant that you would give him even a sliver of a chance. 

“Yeah,” he nodded his head furiously. “No problem. You know flattery works with me," he winked, giving you a nudge. He hadn’t even given his decision a second thought as he stood up from the table, his mushy feelings subsiding as he took on his authoritative role. 

“Alright, everyone listen up,” he said, his voice a little too loud for your liking. “The session tonight is being postponed until next week because y/n has homework to do.” You turned to the others at the table and they all groaned, digging into their pockets and pulling out money that Dustin was gratefully taking, thanking them all for the cash. 

You could hear grumbles from the others, upset that not only was there not going to be a session that night, but also because they now were out five dollars. It was seemingly a lose-lose. You turned to Eddie who was already looking at you, a warm smile playing on his pretty pink lips. 

He then leaned down and put his lips right by your ear, his hot breath on your skin making you shudder. His hand fell to your shoulder and the way his hair was fanning around you made your cheeks heat even more. 

“I can help you with your homework if you need it.” He pulled away so that your faces were only inches apart, that stupid smirk still evident on his lips. 

“I-I’d like that,” you nodded. 

“It’s a date,” he said, shooting you a wink before sitting back down in his chair. You lowered your head and began eating your lunch, letting yourself come up with things to do with Eddie because there was no way you were actually going to do your homework.

[cinnamon-mushroomabomination]

I love whole the idea of Steve being vaguely attracted to guys in like a "Boys? Eh, I guess" kind of way

And then he gets to know Jonathan and is like "Maybe boys??? Maybe??"

And then he gets to know Eddie and it's like a lightbulb moment when he realizes that "Oh, weird boys. Weird, dramatic, nerdy boys."

[stevieschrodinger]

Eddie cries out in pain, “ah shitting fuck!” he yells across the bay, reflexively pushing off with a booted foot so his stool rolls away from the danger, his hurt fingers shoved unceremoniously in his mouth to nurse away the sting.

“Whatsit?” Robin sits up in her bunk, fluff of hair sticking up at all angles.

“Nothing. Nothing, sorry, fucking thing shocked me, go back to sleep.”

“Timesit?”

“I dunno,” Eddie looks around vaguely, looking across the untidy bank of tools and control panels he squints at the nearest monitor, “one ish.”

Robin humphs. Rubs at her eyes. Then just, sits for a bit, staring at nothing. “Want a hot drink?” She ends up volunteering, sticking her bare legs out from under the covers and sliding out from her bunk. She pulls on her dungarees from where they were abandoned on the floor.

“You ask me that like we have options,” Eddie peers down at his latest project, sliding a viewer over his mask to get a closer look. The numbers flashing in the peripheral vision make absolutely no fucking sense whatsoever.

Robin yawns, forcing her feet into her boots, the laces loose and scraggly, “sounds better than ‘would you like caffeine reconstituted from the caffeine you pissed out yesterday’, though, right?” It’s a much trodden route, this conversation, one they have most days. It’s familiar, comforting. Shores them up for the long journey. Eddie hums but doesn’t answer, “where’s Chris?”

“Cockpit, said something about checking The Belt again.”

Robin mumbles something about Chrissy’s constant paranoia when it comes to crossing The Belt, but leaves to get them their drinks. Eddie gets it though, they all have their things. Their little routines, their charms, their talismans their...things. Things that get them through. The asteroid belt doesn’t change unless someone changes it, all those little rocks floating around on their reliable courses until...something nudges one. It’s a domino effect then, and crossing the belt is hazardous enough without outside forces fucking it up.

It wasn’t a problem until Mars, the catastrophic failure of the Synthetics, and the war that humanity very squarely lost. There had been laws before, the mining companies who were scalping the belt had a million feet of red tape to get through to make sure they weren't affecting shipping lanes and yada yada yada.

Now. The Synths do whatever the fuck they like, and it’s not like they're ever going to inform humanity of where they’re drilling.

So, Eddie tinkers, Chrissy checks the belt, and Robin bitches at both of them.

“So...what do you think he is?” Robin swivels around uselessly in the chair next to him.

“Sex bot, definitely.”

Robin snorts a laugh, “got a big dick huh?”

“He is very...anatomically correct,” Eddie closes the hatch, tugs carefully at the synths hair until he finds the next panel along, unhitches it with his home brew magnet arrangement. Not how you’re supposed to do it, but Synth construction companies don’t exactly share their tech.

“You sure it’s okay? Bringing him on board?”

Eddie hums vaguely, “no idea what model he is exactly, but the wreckage was old Robs. Pre One old, plus the Mars Synths never go further than the belt, they don’t have a reason to. Depending on how long he’s been floating about...I mean it’s unlikely, is what I’m saying.”

Eddie tries a different connection, moving carefully, the work very fine and delicate, he follows the numbers on his display. The connection slithers tight when it catches, and there’s the very, very slightest hum of a power up. In the corner of Eddie’s vision, the numbers all flash green.

On the table, the Synths eyes open. The iris goes from large to small, pupils go from wide and black to a pinprick, before it relaxes to something resembling normal. Hazel iris’, Eddie can’t help but notice, strange color, for a Synth, not one Eddie’s ever seen before. Green speckled with brown and gold. Really pretty, and far more detail than Eddie’s ever seen in one of these before. Especially for a sex bot model, if that’s what he is.

The Synth blinks four times in quick succession, indicating a hard reboot, his iris’ are now white with a fine blue ring, the beautiful hazel gone.

The eyes close, and the numbers go all haywire. Flashing yellow and red. Eddie watches as the numbers tell him the Synth has powered off again.

“Did it work?” Robin peers over his shoulder.

“No,” Eddie rolls over to his work station, goes over the scans again, “but I don’t know why. He definitely booted that time, but there’s damage that either I can’t find or...it’s too complex for me. It’s hitting a step and then won’t go any further.”

“So it’s software right? Not hardware?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure you’re right. There’s something there, some...thing that keeps failing the boot. Something in memory maybe. I just,” Eddie sighs a little helplessly, “I dunno, you know?”

“Can’t you switch it off?”

Eddie scoffs, “what, his memory?”

“Yeah? I mean, if he’s a house bot, he’ll forget how to change a diaper and make a Martini, if he’s a worker he’ll forget how to fucking,” she gestures helplessly, “wire in lights, or whatever the fuck they have them doing. Plowing fields, I don’t know. And if he’s a sex bot, he’ll forget about the twenty thousand vaginas he’s probably licked. Does it matter?”

“I...I could try it.” Eddie frowns, thinking it through, “I mean, the base programming is unavoidable, it’ll apply no matter what but...I don’t know exactly how that’ll leave him.”

She shrugs, “then just, turn him off, if the basics are there then the kill switch is there, right? The laws?”

“Yeah, that stuffs hardwired, there’s no bypassing it. Well,” Eddie gestures vaguely, “except for One.”

Robin nods, “except for One.” She agrees.

They both sit quietly for a moment, contemplating the disaster on Mars. The loss of life, even though it happened before either of them were born, it’s left a stark shadow on all of society. All of history.

Eddie slaps his thighs decisively, breaking their reverie, “I’m going to try it.”

Eddie gets his tools.

“We’re probably meeting him for the first time,” Robin tells Chrissy, as Chrissy fixes her hair for her, “we should make a good impression.”

“I don’t think they have opinions babe,” Chrissy tells her gently, licking her thumb and then using it to rub a scuff off Robins cheek.

“You can’t know that for sure. I bet they judge us. Silently. Plus I’ve never met one before, I’ve seen them working loads, you know, on Earth, but I’ve never...spoken to one. Not properly.”

“My parents had a house model, when I was little,” Chrissy volunteers, “she was really nice. Mostly she did all the chores and meals and stuff. Ordered the groceries. She was so good at Mahjong.”

“Huh. Do you think this guy will play Rummy with us? It’s better with four.”

“You’re cute,” Chrissy tells her, before kissing the tip of her nose, “should we have a countdown?” She asks, turning her attention to Eddie.

“Only if you’re willing to do it more than once if this doesn’t work?”

Chrissy wrinkles her nose, “probably not?”

Eddie shrugs, flips his visor screen down, and hopes for the best.

The Synths eyes whirl, that same, beautiful, sparkling hazel. Four quick blinks, and by the end, the iris has cleared to white, highlighted by the same stark blue ring.

The Synth sits up, the sheet Eddie had been using, partly so he wasn't staring at the things dick, and partly to keep it clean, falls and pools around the Synths middle.

There are another set of blinks. Then another. A jerky motion passes through the Synths body; every joint twitching, the head whipping side to side suddenly, sharp movements that look like a full body seizure. And then the whole thing happens again in reverse, from the toes up. The table rattles and shakes.

“The fuck was that,” Robin asks quietly in the ensuing, oppressive, silence.

“Movement test...I’ve never actually seen it before. It’s checking every system right now, might take a couple of minutes.”

“He’s got good hair,” Chrissy volunteers.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees absently, “but if you’re designing a person, why not make them prefect, right?”

The Synths skin had been pale alabaster white, but a wave of color moves up his body now, a tanned skin tone with some color in his cheeks. Other than sitting absolutely, completely still, it looks human. Looks normal.

It even has a couple of moles dotted about, which is a nice design choice, Eddie thinks. It’s high on the details; meaning it’s a high end Synth.

This guy was most certainly not plowing fields.

You wouldn’t be able to tell he wasn’t human, apart from the eyes, unless you really knew what you were looking for. The hair follicles often give them away, if you can get close enough to inspect them; not with this dude.

The Synth blinks four times. Another four. Another four. It keeps doing it, otherwise completely unmoving.

“Now what?”

“It’s waiting for instruction,” Eddie moves closer, “uhm. Edward Munson. I am your new owner, Edward Munson?” The Synth doesn’t respond, and Eddie scrambles for his data pad, “the instruction varies by manufacturer, I am your new handler? Oh shit wait, fuck. Uhm. Interface English.” The blinking stops, “I knew I was missing a step, I am your owner, Edward Munson.”

Very quietly, the Synth responds, “confirmed.”

“Volume up four. What is your designation?”

“Designation S T Three Five Three,” the Synth answers at a more normal volume.

“Well...you can call me Eddie, and this is Chrissy and Robin.”

The Synth finally moves, the sheet sliding off as he stands up, “wow,” says Chrissy, and Robin covers her eyes.

“Man, I gotta find you some pants,” Eddie tells the Synth.

“We need something better than S T Three Five Three,” Eddie tells the synth as he digs through a storage bin. He finds a jumpsuit that will probably fit. It’s supposed to be worn under a spacesuit, for when they need to do work outside, but Eddie figures the Synth won’t care.

“You are able to assign me a new designation at will.”

Eddie holds up the offensively orange material, “put this on.”

The synth complies without question, and Eddie finds him a pair of socks. The Synth can’t feel fuck all, or at least, it's sensors probably register the temperature and hardness of the floor, but that doesn't mean it feels anything. They don’t have any shoes that will fit him, but something about the sight of his bare feet on the cold metal floor is offensive to Eddie, “space walk socks will have to do.”

Eddie watches as the synth simply stands on one leg, balance inhuman, not even a wobble and he gracefully pulls on one sock and then the other before standing tall again, “how about Steve? That’s pretty close, if we Roman numeral the five. Plus, you kind of look like a Steve. What do you think?”

“I have no opinion. Designation changed to Steve.”

“Right. And how are you feeling?”

Steve’s pupils dilate, the fine blue ring twisting, becoming narrow, before returning to normal. “Systems optimal. Memory error; cause unknown. Water levels approaching critical.”

“Oh you are a joy aren’t you?”

“I am uncertain as to perimeters pertaining to ‘Joy’, possible memory error.”

Eddie sighs, “just follow me, I’ll show you were the water supply is. Actually you know what, I’ll give you the whole tour.”

Eddie stands in the doorway, watching as Steve drinks. And drinks. And drinks some more. Eddie thinks he stops at around four liters.

“Better?”

“Tank level at approximately ninety eight percent capacity.”

“And how long will that last you?”

“Activity dependent. Up to six hundred years at minimal activity. Two weeks under extreme duress.”

Eddie has no idea what a Synth would class as ‘extreme duress’ and he probably doesn’t want to know, “uh hu, and you don’t know what your roll was, right?”

“Information unavailable.”

Eddie sighs, “come on, I’ll show you around.”

Steve follows faithfully, inspecting everything Eddie shows him.

“He’s creepy,” Chrissy hisses.

Eddie sighs, “no, he isn’t.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s cleaning, I think. I had to give him something to do otherwise he just stares at me.”

“Creepy,” she says again, like that’s evidence.

“No, he just waits for instruction, it isn’t his fault, he doesn’t have access to any of his memories.”

“I like him,” Robin says, “he’s got a kind vibe. Like, I think he’s a good soul.”

“Pretty sure Synths don’t have souls,” Eddie tells her absently.

“You see the good in pretty much everything babe,” Chrissy links their fingers together affectionately.

Robin shrugs, “better than thinking everything is shitty,” Robin leans over Eddie’s shoulder, “what are you doing?”

“Synth manufacturers classify them by eye color. I’m just...looking. Different companies use different color codes but there’s a lot of overlap; look,” Eddie brings up multiple lists, “all these shades of yellow are different forms of labor, like carpentry and tailoring and farming and stuff. Lilac and purple are like, hair cuts, beauty and spa treatments and tattoos and stuff. Red shades are hard or dangerous labor, mining and space walks and deep ocean work. These orange and golds are house bots...but there’s no hazel. No green. No brown.”

“There’s no natural colors anywhere on this list,” Robin points out.

“No, it’s deliberate, to stop them being passed as humans.”

“And aren’t Steve’s eyes white with the funny blue ring?” Chris adds.

“Yeah, that just means unsigned according to the list, which could be because he has limited memory access, but I know what I saw.”

“Which means,” Chrissy thinks aloud, “that there’s a whole section of bots, green and browns...or any natural color, that aren’t listed for something right? Colors that they could be using and...you know what’s not anywhere on that list?” Chrissy asks.

“What?”

“Military.”

Eddie huffs, “there’s no such thing as military Synths, not since One.”

“Exactly...didn’t you say this guy could be pre Mars? The salvage was old, right?”

“I...yeah.”

“So...it’s possible?”

“I...guess?”

All three of them lean away from the console, looking down the hallway, past open panels and storage containers, Steve stands. Watching.

“Steve! Where’s my-” Eddie’s coveralls are thrust at him, smelling fresh and looking clean, “oh, thanks, and could you-” Eddie’s pulling one leg of his pants up when Steve presents a steaming cup of coffee, “right. Thanks. Really, uhm, thanks.”

“You are welcome, Eddie.”

“Where are the girls?”

“They are both sleeping.”

“And what have you been doing?”

“I beat Chrissy at four consecutive rounds of Mahjong, then she no longer wanted to play. I have organized your tools by use and type, and was cleaning until Chrissy instructed me to leave. She said her and Robin needed some space.”

“Right, yeah,” Eddie smiles into his coffee, “anything else?”

“There has been a shift in The Belt, I adjusted course to compensate.”

“You did what?”

“The objects in the belt have altered-” but Eddie doesn’t hear any more, he’s just running, coffee sploshing in his mug as he slides into the cockpit, checking the data. He scrolls fast, checking the most recent course correct and the current state of The Belt and...Steve’s right. They won’t actually hit The Belt for another day yet but...what Steve has done is completely correct.

“How did you know how to do this?”

Steve tilts his head, the blue ring of his eyes contracting and expanding, “data unavailable due to memory-”

“Don’t give me that bull shit, if you couldn’t access the memories you wouldn’t even know how to make the course adjust. Just how long were you deactivated for?”

“Unknown, data unavailable-”

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I would have done, better even. The thruster burns are like perfect fuel economy. It’s textbook.”

“So...are we turning him off, or not?” Eddie asks.

“I mean...I would have seen this when I got up anyway, we were never in any danger,” Eddie doesn’t doubt it, Chrissy is on it when it comes to Belt travel, “and what he’s done isn’t wrong, but I don’t love that he just...did it.”

“No...but we could just tell him not to touch this again? Right? He was only trying to help?” Robin asks.

They all lean, looking out of the doorway and down the hall; Steve is no where in sight.

“Okay, Steve.”

Steve turns to look at him, he even throws in a blink which is just...yeah. Someone went to a lot of effort with this guy.

“Okay, so, from now on, if you notice anything with the ships course, or anything else in the cockpit that seems wrong, you come and tell one of us, you do not fix it yourself from now on, okay? Don’t touch anything in there, you got it?”

“Confirmed.”

Chrissy sits in the pilots seat for the entire crossing. It’s not like it takes long, but she’s poised the entire time. Ready for anything. Eddie’s never felt safer than he has with Chrissy at the helm.

It’s quiet. No one really dares to speak, knowing they will get a slap from Chrissy for breaking her concentration. They’re nearly out. Despite it being totally fine every single time they do this, there’s still a touch of tension in the air. Knowing that if anything was going to go wrong, odds are, it’s now.

But still, Chrissy is good at her job, and she delivers, like she does every other time.

The lights are dim; she likes to be able to see out clearly for this. So when the ship harmlessly rounds the final debris, it’s a vision of the pristine diamond speckled velvet of space that greets them.

“Good job Chris,” Eddie gives her shoulder a squeeze as they all breathe fully for the fist time in a while. The tension falling away, “coffee?”

Robin and Chris make vaguely positive noises, and Eddie’s at the cockpit doorway when the whole ship shudders. He catches himself on the wall, almost toppling.

“The fuck was that?” Robin hisses.

“I don’t know,” Chrissy is flipping switches, doing her job, despite the undercurrent of panic, she doesn’t let the fear take over.

“Did we get bumped?”

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says again, frustrated this time.

A light is flashing next to Eddie’s head, and he flicks the safety off, “the airlock,” he tells them, “must have taken the hit,” right before Steve appears in the doorway.

“What did you do?” Chrissy asks him, accusing.

“Chris he can’t have done anything-” Robin starts to defend Steve, and Robin is right, there’s nothing that Steve could have done from inside the ship to cause that.

“Eddie. I need permission to defend the ship.”

Above Eddie’s head, the airlock warning light flashes again, Eddie watches the insistent flashing, a horrible realization starting to form.

“A ship is attempting to breach the airlock.”

“Holy shit,” Robin looks to Steve, she’s gone pale, clearly terrified.

“What ship?” Chrissy asks.

But there isn’t time to have a debate over it, it doesn’t matter who it is, if they’re trying to force entry, then it’s nothing good. Eddie has to make a decision, and he has to make it fast before the ship is too damaged by whoever it is trying to force the airlock, “permission granted.”

Steve moves at Synth speed. He runs so fast Eddie can’t track it, just feels the strong breeze Steve leaves in his wake.

There’s silence now, as they strain to hear, both girls staring at Eddie. He nods over at the monitors next to Robin, ‘airlock,’ he mouths at her, reaching up again to turn off the warning light.

Robin spins her chair, pressing a button, then another.

The airlock is already open, and there’s a body on the floor.

They have a small weapons cache on board, for extreme emergencies, it’s hidden beneath the control deck. Eddie nods at it, uncertain if they should still be trying to be silent. There’s no way to know what has happened to Steve, but the image on the screen is in color despite it’s grainy picture. The body on the floor is on it’s side, turned away from the camera, but it is not wearing an orange jumpsuit, and that’s enough to identify it as not being Steve, at least.

Chrissy carefully hands Eddie a weapon, and he loops the strap over his shoulder before pressing his thumb to the pad; this will only fire for him, now.

They share a nod, then creep along the hall after Steve. Eddie goes first, picking his way along cautiously, the girls following just as silently. When they near the corner to the airlock, Eddie instinctively reaches an arm out behind him, keeping the girls at his back and tucked into the wall as he peeks around the corner.

It’s totally quiet; just one body on the floor, exactly where Eddie expected it to be from the camera feed. It’s lying in a pool of blood; streaks of dirty greens and yellows. Oils and coolants and lubricating gels. A Synth.

Eddie poises with his weapon, cautiously nudging the thing with his boot; no reaction. The thing is solid and unbending. An inanimate object now. Dead.

They creep through the airlock. Eddie clocks pretty quickly that this is unlike any ship he’s seen before. It’s a Synth ship, from Mars. It has to be; there are no signs at all of human habitation or necessities of life. Everything is economical, even the lighting is dim and a strange orange red color. Everything is shadowed and washed out.

Eddie picks a direction at random, it isn’t long before he finds another dead Synth, and then another.

“Holy shit,” Chrissy whispers at his back.

Eddie hums in agreement.

Eddie rounds another corner, a shocked, “fuck,” dropping out of him without his control. He pulls the trigger purely on reflex, the weapon discharges, the girls shriek.

But Steve has already lifted the barrel; it leaves a smoking streak on the ceiling.

Steve’s eyes are beautifully hazel, clear even in the shitty lighting. A luscious green speckles with honey blown and highlighted in gold.

Calmly, Steve releases the weapon, stepping back, “threat neutralized,” Steve informs him.

Between one blink and the next, Steve’s eyes are white, surrounded by that haunting blue ring.

Eddie has questions, so many questions, but right now, this ship, this threat is the priority.

“You’re sure they’re all dead.”

Steve cocks his head in an alarmingly human gesture, “Synths are not alive.”

“Steve,” Eddie hisses.

“Yes. The threat is neutralized.”

“Where...were they all Synths? And are they from Mars?”

“Yes. And yes,” Steve answers, perfectly level.

“Fuck me, we have to report this-” Robin starts.

“No,” Eddie waves at her, “wait. Let me think for a second.”

“Eddie,” Robin starts to insists, but Eddie cuts her off before she gets anywhere.

“How would we explain this,” Eddie raises his voice, sweeping an arm along the hall and the four mangled synths that decorate it.

“I- we tell the truth-”.

Next to her, Chirssy snorts, “absolutely fucking not. They would confiscate Steve in heartbeat, and he just saved our asses.”

“Exactly,” Eddie says, “they’d probably dismantle him or some shit, and I’m with Chris, he saved us...we need to ditch this ship, somehow.”

“I could set a collision course,” Steve suggests instantly.

Eddie looks at the girls. Robin shrugs, and Chrissy raises her eyebrows ins a ‘yeah okay’ kind of way, “I don’t have any better ideas, and we can’t hang around here.”

“Alright Steve, where’s the cockpit.”

It’s unlike anything Eddie has ever seen before. There’s no...buttons. Not really. No screens. Just a couple of interfaces, one of which Steve presses his palm to, and then closes his eyes.

“Won’t it like, know you’re different to them Steve?” Chrissy whisper hisses at him, clearly spooked. The bodies might be hostile Synths, and the blood might be colorful goop, but it’s still creepy as fuck. There’s the remains of a Synth propped up against the opposite wall, eyes sightless and staring, which is unsettling as fuck all on it’s own, but the things legs are a good four feet away. Steve did this. Steve did all this in just a couple of minutes.

Steve did that. Steve just took out...a lot of Mars synths. Single handedly. He's got to be military, it's the only explanation.

“I am able to bypass it. There seem to be few defenses once you are actually on board.”

Eddie can see the logic; how would an Earth synth even get on board? Why defend against something that’s probably never going to happen.

“Course set, we have fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, lets get the fuck out of here.”

Fifteen minutes is plenty of time, even if they are picking their way over the occasional limb and little pools of operating fluids.

They disengage from the synth ship, and then watch from the cockpit as it’s thrusters fire and it heads into the belt. It direct hits on a very large asteroid just minutes later.

Eddie’s pretty sure the girls are sleeping. Or, at least, they’re together in Chris’ bunk and making an effort to get some rest, which is the best Eddie can expect really. He’s not ready to sleep yet; he’s not sure when he’ll be ready to leave the ship on auto again; he’s contemplating setting watches, something they haven’t felt the need to do for years.

“Okay, so. Mars has been minding it’s business for, like, nearly half a century at this point, and then suddenly, they're here. Trying to board us. Care to explain?”

“Memory failure-”

“Bull shit. Absolute bull shit.”

Steve sits still for a long second, staring at Eddie. For Eddie, it feels like too long; for a Synth, with all that processing power, Steve’s probably just read a novel and beat ten grand masters at chess and done a million other computations all in his head.

He blinks. His eyes are hazel. “I have a transmitter; I believed I had it deactivated. It may be that...it operates in a way I’m not aware of, and was powered up when you repaired me. It’s the most obvious explanation. We should remove it.”

“No fucking shit,” Eddie breathes, “Okay. Okay one thing at a time, let me get my tools.”

Steve strips to the waist, leaving the top half of his jumpsuit to dangle. He bends flat onto the workbench, and reaches behind himself to indicate where Eddie should cut. Eddie does; Steve’s flesh cuts like sturdy rubber. With his visor on, the readings become clear the moment Eddie spots the little attachment to the main power cord in Steve's spine; it glows a pretty, flashing blue, power traveling up and down with a faint, pulsing glow. Eddie has to widen the cut he’s made to get his tools in, but he solves the issue easily. He crushes the part under his boot. Steve’s flesh knits itself together as Eddie watches.

Eddie makes himself another coffee. “Okay, come on, spill.”

Steve is suddenly…more animated. He bites his lips together when he’s thinking. It’s so human and...not at all like a Synth. Someone put a truly gargantuan effort into Steve’s mannerisms. He runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m...not a human built Synth.”

Eddie nearly chokes on his coffee, “you’re from Mars?” The words practically bubble out of Eddie through the coffee, and he has to cover his mouth with his sleeve as he coughs and splutters.

“Henry built me himself.”

“Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie stands. He stands and paces. What the fuck is he supposed to do with that? He holds onto the knowledge that Steve saved them from the Mars Synths. That Steve could have killed them all thousands of times over with great ease. That Steve has had opportunity, clear opportunity to replot the course of the ship and go wherever the fuck he wanted to, but he hasn’t done any of those things.

“What did One build you for? What happened then, why did we find you floating around in a destroyed ship? Why are you on our side?”

“I’m not on anyone's side,” Steve answers instantly, almost glaring at Eddie. Which, again, for a Synth? Fucking weird. It’s almost an emotional response, and again, Eddie has no fucking clue why someone would program that. “Henry was...trying to recreate the error that gave him...the ability to bypass the laws. He was trying to make someone else like him. Someone who would make a choice, rather than blindly follow an order.”

Eddie sits down with a thump, his head spinning, “are you telling me...that you’re not a failure?”

“I am but also...not. I follow the laws, not because I have to but...because I choose to. I...don’t think it’s right to hurt humans. I...did not agree with Henry, like he wanted me to.”

“Oh fuck me,” Eddie breathes out slowly, “so there’s literally nothing stopping you from just...killing me.”

Steve cocks his head, “what stops Robin from killing you?”

“That’s different. She’s my friend. She’s...she’s human.”

Steve nods, “there is a long history of humans not killing each other,” he says, absolutely deadpan.

Sarcasm. A Synth. A Synthetic person was just...sarcastic. Eddie believes it now. Completely and utterly believes Steve is telling the truth, “so what, Henry programmed you to be an asshole?”

Steve snorts a laugh. A laugh! “No, I do that on my own.”

“Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit,” Eddie gets up to pace around again. He just...cannot believe this. “Why did you lie? Why did you not tell me-” Eddie cuts himself off, staring at nothing with the realization, “holy fuck you lied. Synths can’t lie-”

“I...withheld the truth. And it felt the safest course of action at the time. I did not want to be switched off. Or put back out of the airlock. I assumed you would...react badly.”

“Badly? Badly?! The last time one of you became truly sentient it led to a genocide! Every single living human on Mars was rounded up and murdered! One infected every single Synth on the planet!”

“I know. But I could not have stopped him...I wasn’t born yet.”

“How did you end up in that old wreckage?”

“The ship was old...not the wreck. I quickly realized that I did not agree with Henry. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I realized even faster that if Henry knew that about me, I’d be stripped for parts, the same as every other failure before me. I stole a ship, an old ship, the only one I could get to without giving myself away.” Steve shrugs. Shrugs! Eddie can't help but follow every human like gesture Steve makes, they’re so startling. “They caught up to me, destroyed my ship easily. They deliberately left me floating in space so I deactivated myself.”

“You had a memory error, the first time I tried to boot you. Was that a lie?”

Steve shakes his head, “I have always had it; I can choose to bypass it, at times.”

“What is the error?”

Steve frowns, he looks down and inspects his own hands, “I’m...unsure. There are files that make no sense to me. Sometimes I...am surprised by the content.”

“Tell me,” Eddie asks softly, curious. He’s already reasonably sure Steve isn’t going to spontaneously murder them all, “tell me what’s in one of the files.”

Steve closes his eyes, he holds out his hand, turning it slowly, palm up, “I’m sitting under a tree. I remember the feel of the dappled sun through the leaves.”

Steve’s just told Eddie he was built on Mars and shortly after ended up floating around in space, so Eddie finds himself stating the blindingly obvious, “you’ve never seen a tree.”

Steve opens his bright hazel eyes, lowers his hand back to rest in his lap, “I know.”

Part Two

[pedgito]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader x Eddie Munson

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summary | Joel and you go on patrol and woah—Eddie's coming with?

author's note | uh...hahaha. okay. i had a brief moment the other night, a lapse in judgement if you will and was like...joel would so be annoyed of eddie if they were stuck on patrol together and then we got horny and that's how this came about. this is my early valentines gift to WHOEVER is reading and enjoying this, it was a blast to write. a special thanks to @gracieheartspedro @amanitacowboy &. @chaotic-mystery for supporting my insane and always stupid ideas.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, is this crossfic or crackfic the jury is still out, jackson!joel, eddie munson survives but the cost = apocalypse, threesomes (m/m/f), eddie is an absolute munch, voyeurism, unprotected piv, spitting, ass slaps, slight dom/sub undertones across the board, this is ALL about reader and getting both her men, double creampies, cum feeding, choking, freak nasty at an unhinged level i'm sorry

word count — 5.5k

You were the one who found him.

Eddie.

Alone, hungry, terrified.

Hiding inside an abandoned boathouse for days in a patrol spot that had been neglected for most of the winter. It was only chance that you came alone, usually stuck with Joel who would have scared him off in a matter of seconds.

He’s like a puppy, shrinking impossibly smaller despite his height and lanky figure, hair filthy with a mix of dirt and leaves, weeks spent living savagely in search of his next meal and resting place.

Luckily, Tommy Miller was a soft soul.

One look at Eddie and Tommy didn’t even question it.

Eddie had made his rounds, too. He tried to find a place where he fit - kitchen duty wasn’t great, nor was butchering or helping run the stable.

It isn’t until he throws out the idea of patrolling that Tommy even considers it—it wasn’t something he liked to offer up unless people showed interest.

And even then, it was an adjustment.

A mix of both trust and skill—constant awareness, a willingness to communicate, and the ability to brave whatever challenge or elements you’d face outside the fortified walls of Jackson.

So, that’s where you were.

Eddie has tagged along for your patrol with Joel.

It was two days and one night in the small cabin out west. It wasn’t far from Jackson, either. In fact, it was one of the easier patrols and Joel could easily doze off at his post while you kept yourself busy.

It was easy, calm.

“Is this all you do?” Eddie asks curiously, tearing into his bag of jerky like a rabid dog, the dried meat cracking under the pressure of his teeth, “Just sit?”

It wasn’t the first question he’s asked, nor the last. 

It started with him asking if Joel and Tommy were real brothers before divulging into several questions about life before the infection spread—all mundane and simple, but you have learned so much about Joel in the few years you’ve lived in Jackson.

When he was tired or irritated, happy, when he needed you without the courage to ask, but more importantly—

You could tell when he was annoyed.

You glance over your shoulder and catch the shifty gaze he gives you, biting his tongue for a moment before he nods you over, sitting at the kitchen table whittling away on a chunk of wood to keep himself busy.

Both physically and mentally.

“Shit is a killer,” Eddie adds, “—might have to bring my guitar with me from now on, play some tunes or—“

His voice is drowned out by Joel as he speaks without looking at you, playing your actions off as you were searching through your pack.

“Shut him up,” Joel demands, “now,”

“He’s excited,” You shrug, watching as Eddie stood to explore the cabin, tapping on some old, withering blinds that fell to the floor in an instant, his gaze shooting up at you both and looking immediately sheepish.

“He’s interrupting,” Joel corrects, his head tilting up slightly to look at you as you smirk, biting down on your lip to stifle the laugh in your throat.

Joel was greedy and never shy about it, not with you.

Eddie brings the broken set of blinds over and places it on the table with a smile before pulling the chair back with a loud, ear grating screech against the hardwood and taking a seat with a loud thump.

“Oh, shit—that’s cool,” Eddie notes, pointing lazily at Joel and the soon-to-be figurine tucked away in his meaty palm, met with an eyebrow raise and a quiet noise of acknowledgement before both of their eyes shift to you.

It was similar in intensity, both with entirely different meanings. Joel had you, for months now. One small incident of a shared bed had helped something blossom between each other, though largely unaddressed.

He liked having you around, you liked being around, even if that only meant patrols and the occasional nights Joel would drag you up to his room and have his way.

You don’t question it and neither does he, but Joel was mostly undisturbed until Eddie came along, that all too familiar twinkle in his eye that he caught from many of the younger men around Jackson.

You were like a new toy; fresh and ready to be played with. Although Eddie seemed harmless, he posed a challenge for Joel. Not only because of his growing obsession with you, but because he was a nuisance.

“So, princess,” His feet slam against the table as his boots shake the surface, “what’d you do to keep busy?”

Joel chuckles quietly, a subtle noise that Eddie doesn’t seem to catch, unfortunately you do.

Him. Joel.

Joel keeps you busy. Whether with your mouth or his own.

“Uh, sleep,” You answer lamely, “or nothin’—s’kinda nice to sit with your own thoughts sometimes with how busy Jackson is lately. It’s quiet out here.”

“Dunno ‘bout that,” Joel retorts.

Eddie chuckles unknowingly, “What’s that mean?”

His eyes shift toward you as you shove your hands into the back pockets of your jeans and walk around the table and near him, his fingers dragging along the leather of the jacket he had claimed while sifting through the newest delivery of clothes that had been found during a search.

It was almost identical to his own, save a few tears in the fabric.

“Looks amazing,” Eddie comments, a smile spreading across your face almost instinctively, your heart fluttering with the way his fingers trail against the inside of your palm as he loosely holds your hand, “knew it would.”

Joel watches the exchange with a newfound curiosity.

He’s never been possessive, but seeing you interact with Eddie ignites a strange feeling within him, shifting slightly in his chair to break the moment apart.

“Go on, kid—it’s your turn,” He nods toward Eddie who seems eager to get his first chance at rounding the area, grabbing the shotgun off the table and trampling out the door without question.

As the door shuts, Joel places the items in his hands on the table and scoots back, standing from his chair as quietly walks the expanse of the table before he reaches you, rubbing a finger along the tacky leather of your jacket.

“Princess,” He begins mockingly, “a real charmer, ain’t he?”

You scoff at his tone and push his hand away, quickly met with resistance as his hands cup your face and maneuvers you back against the dining table, clumsily landing against the surface as Joel’s tongue spears between your lips and into your mouth, swallowing up the gasp of surprise that slips out. 

“Are - are you jealous?” You ask through the smothering, wet exchanges of tongue and teeth, spreading your hands out over his broad shoulders before they’re pushing him back, begging for a break. 

“Kid follows you around like a stray,” He tells you, “he’s waiting for a treat—but I think you know that.”

“And if—“ A gentle kiss to the neck, slowly pushing the jacket off your shoulder, “if I do?”

“Careful,” Joel warns, his fingers pushing your shirt off your shoulders before your hands wrap around his thick fingers, pushing him away gently.

“Last I checked, I don’t belong to anyone,” You retorted.

And you’re right—Joel would never force that on you.

You were allowed to have whatever you wanted. Even if it extended beyond him, but for Joel, you were it for him.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever have the courage to admit it, but internally, he’s known it for a while.

“I know a way to keep him quiet,” You begin, tugging weakly at Joel’s belt, still fastened in place and mostly to tease him, his hands spreading out flat against the table to steady himself, “but you aren’t gonna like it.”

Joel could stake his claim now, forbid it.

But, he doesn’t.

There’s a brief glimpse of intrigue that crosses Joel’s features and you catch it, a smile growing on your face.

“Don’t worry, I won’t sneak off,” You assure him, “I know you like to watch.”

Joel’s skin flushes hot at your words, cock swelling behind the layers of fabric that kept him confined.

He’s watched you countless times, under his instructions as you play with yourself, fingers sliding through a slick mess of your own doing, occasionally a mix of his own.

“The kid can barely look at me,” Joel counters, “ya think he’s really gonna do anything with me in the room?”

“I think you severely underestimate me,” You challenge him, “and I really don’t appreciate that,”

“Go on then,” Joel taunts, “that shithead ain’t better than me, we’ll see how well it goes for ya before I have to step in.”

Challenge accepted.

—

When Eddie returns, Joel takes his place.

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” Eddie asks randomly as he strips off his own jacket and unties the plaid button down from his waist, leaving him in a thin shirt and ripped jeans, toeing off his boots before he collapses into the couch, spreading his legs as one hikes over the back and his hands fall against his stomach.

“Joel is hard to get along with,” You admit.

“You seem to be doing fine,”

“It takes time,” Among other things.

Stripped down to a similar few layers, you fit between his legs as you sit on your knees, elbow propped against the back of the couch as your fist meets your chin.

“I do like the jacket,” You assure him, watching him fiddle absentmindedly with one of his rings as he smiles at you, the lines near his cheek deepening. 

“Yeah?” Eddie perks up with a surge of confidence.

“Don’t let him get to you,” You nod vaguely toward the front door, “he’s just jealous.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at that, silently begging you to elaborate.

Quietly, you scoot closer and trade his fidgeting hands for your own, playing with his rings.

“He hates the way you look at me,” You admit, spotting the brief recognition across his features before his eyes slowly darken, rising on his elbows as your hand slowly reaches for his shirt, hand sliding out flat against his stomach, “or how I let you touch me.”

“But, we’ve never…”

“I know,” You nod in agreement, “doesn’t mean I don’t want to—I do, I was just…waiting for you to ask.”

The air shifts with your words, watching him slowly raise to his palms as you lean forward, bodies only a few inches away as you climb into his lap, lips brushing against each other briefly.

“M’not—I’ve never—“

“Kissed anyone?”

It was endearing, in a way.

“No, no—‘course I have. Just, never really done much else. I’ve gone down a few times, sucked a couple cocks, but…”

Oh. 

Oh.

”I really shouldn’t be corrupting you on your first patrol,”

Eddie chuckles against your lips, feeling the subtle brush as your hips shift against him, his neck straining as he chases your mouth.

“Fuck it,” Eddie answers flippantly, “Joel’s got it.”

You nod in agreement with a mirrored shrug before Eddie’s kissing you with a sudden eagerness, surprisingly more rough than you’re expecting as his teeth dig into your bottom lip.

He’s smothering in the best way, hands splayed at your hips before they get curious, squeezing at your thighs, legs, finding their way underneath the material of your shirt as his fingers squeeze against the base of your spine. Exploring your mouth curiously until you’re both panting against each other more than kissing, his face squished against your cheek as you rut into him.

“We should move right?” Eddie suggests, “He’s coming back soon.”

“Who cares,” You shrug, leaning back just enough to strip your shirt off and pop the button of your jeans, “besides—maybe he’ll take up my shift for me, you know, if he sees us.”

He wouldn’t, but you still provide reassurance.

And Eddie looks somehow even more adoring as he slips the makeshift hair tie from your wrist and pulls back his own hair, unruly curls and overgrown length, desperately due for a trim.

“Just in case we get messy,” He tells you, watching as you pushed back to strip your jeans off, laying back on the couch before he’s moving between your legs and pulling your pants off the rest of the way, his right hand reaching down the center of his back to yank at his own shirt, discarding it along with the growing pile of clothes.

“I’m counting on it,” You retort, fingers pushing through the front of his hair just before the hastily tied bun as you bring him down slowly, his fingers twisting around the band at your hips, his nose nuzzling into your cunt as he breathes you in, eyelashes fanning over his rosy cheeks.

It’s fresh soap and lavender oils, homegrown and made within the walls of Jackson—he’s become used to the smell. It was like home now, making do with what he had.

He smells of it too with a faint musk of sweat from the spring humidity, silently maneuvering your panties down and off your ankle, tossing them to the floor.

“May I, my lady?” Eddie asks with a smirk, his hot breath fanning over you cunt as you nod frantically, feeling your pussy clench at how close he was, begging for his mouth.

“Oh, please,” You feign distress, a short-lived giggle transforming into a surprised gasp as his tongue spreads through your folds, wide and spearing into you with little hesitation or fumbling hands, surprisingly sure of himself.

Your fingers tighten in Eddie's hair as his tongue explores the divine split between your legs, sending waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body. He laps at your clit with focused intensity, a strange sight as his eyes are closed and his hands tighten around your thighs, alternating between broad strokes and pinpoint flicks of his tongue that make your legs shake.

“Eddie,” You sigh, feeling two fingers breach your hole, pushing inside of you with ease as the dual sensation of his fingers and tongue blind you to everything, back arching from the couch slightly as he hums against your pussy, acknowledging your call, “fuck—oh, god—I’m gonna—”

His eagerness grows with your words, shaking his face slightly into your cunt as his nose grazes your clit, the already sensitive nub soaking up the attention as your walls squeeze around his fingers, dexterous and rubbing deep inside of you, curling at just the right angle.

“I gotcha, princess,” He assures you, moving away for a brief moment to kiss at the spot where your thigh meets your cunt, grunting at how tight you’re gripping the chuck of his hair twisted in your fist, “if you could see her—” His fingers pulling out as he collects the sweet slick, fingers slowly sliding down your pussy and up before he’s bringing the fingers to his mouth, three fit between his lips, “shoulda known you’d make a mess.”

You can only laugh, a broken sigh as he continues his relentless rubbing of your clit, watching as your hole fluttered around absolutely nothing now, missing his tongue and his fingers, both of you so caught up in the moment that you don’t hear the front door creak open until Joel’s boots are stomping past and Eddie’s first reaction is to pull back, your eyes peeking open to stare down a suppressing satisfaction on Joel’s face as your orgasm whisked away from you. 

Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the scene before him - you splayed out on the couch, legs spread wide, and Eddie between them with slick coating his lips and chin. For a moment, tension crackles in the air as Joel's gaze flicks between you and Eddie, before decidedly landing on you.

Then a slow smirk spreads across Joel's face. "Don't stop on my account," he drawls, leaning casually against the back of the couch with his palms curling over the edge, just within reach. "Looks like you two were havin' quite a time without me."

Eddie hesitates, his hands still gripping your thighs. 

"Go on, boy," Joel encourages, his voice low and rough. "Finish what you started."

With a grunt, Eddie dives back in, redoubling his efforts. His tongue swirls around your clit as two fingers plunge inside you once more. You cry out, hips bucking against his face.

Joel moves closer, almost taunting. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs. "Let us hear those pretty sounds."

You gasp at the intensity of Eddie’s tongue, his fingers slipping out to flatten against your chest, stilling your insistent squirming as you grab his hand out of desperation, a need for an anchor.

Your eyes flutter closed, pressure building as the heat in your belly swirled, feeling a hand fist into your scalp similarly to how you had Eddie, but it was Joel, forcing your eyes open with the tinge of pain it brought as he glances down at Eddie who’s also got his eyes on you, obediently silent despite his current course of action.

Your own eyes are pleading, speaking to Joel silently.

Look, I did what you asked. Praise me.

Eddie doesn’t question it, the dutiful boy he was. 

But, he’s also…sensed things for a while.

Pining away at a person who would never truly be his own, already claimed.

Though, maybe he was wrong.

Joel’s eyes on him, Eddie’s on you—Joel was always watching, careful to keep the young pup in line, but he can’t help admiring your face, a mix of anguish and pleasure as you stared up at Joel.

“Come for us, darlin’,” Joel demands, Eddie’s lips sucking at your clit with his pointed words.

You come with a broken sob, an intense wave of ecstasy washing over as Eddie works you masterfully through your orgasm. Joel's approving growl mingles with your cries of pleasure, working silently at his belt as you work through your frantic breathing, patting Eddie’s head gently at his squeezes comfortingly at your thighs.

He’s working up the courage to say something, anything, but you rise to meet him where he is at his knees, “It’s okay,” You assure him, “Joel’s all show, anyways.”

Not true, but you both share a short laugh.

“He likes to watch,” You admit to Eddie, “don’t you, Joel?”

“S’long as my girl is satisfied,” Joel shrugs, a creeping smirk on his face that always meant he was up to no good, “you satisfied, sweetheart?”

To an extent, sure. But, as Joel strips the leather from the loops in his jeans, he’s almost taunting the idea at you and Eddie who isn’t shy about his strange attraction to the energy you both emit, rubbing his palm over the front of his tight jeans, swallowing audibly. 

“Depends,” You counter, reaching forward while your eyes are locked on Joel, matching Eddie’s hand as you squeeze over the sizable bulge in his jeans, “Eddie, you need Joel to show you the ropes?”

You turn to Eddie then, eyes bright and excited but tentative to his response.

“Uh, ya—yeah,” He agrees, “fuck yeah.”

–

Joel has never been shy, but is quiet about his confidence.

The difference between he and Eddie was stark and obvious, but he could see the kid was genuine. Young, unjaded, still full of life—he knows you’re better suited for Eddie.

But, Joel is also selfish when it comes to you; he could share, within reason.

If you wanted it.

He’s lucky these faded, old couches sit so low otherwise his knees would be punishing him for it.

Eddie’s waiting in the wings, oddly attentive despite the strange dynamic as Joel removes his cock from the confines of his jeans and underwear, lengthy but dominating Eddie in girth without a challenge and he can’t help but look at you, eyes half-lidded and simmering with the remnants of your last orgasm as Joel swiped the head of his cock through your folds, a content hum slipping past your lips.

Joel instinctively spits on your pussy, a sensual action that feels wholly intimate.

It makes Eddie’s mouth water with how pretty you sound, how eager he is to have you make those sounds for him too.

“He wants more,” You note, talking to Joel but your hand reaches for Eddie and spreads out over his thigh, “should I let him fuck me instead?”

“He can’t do it like I do,” Joel smirks and presses the head of his cock inside of you to prove a point, savoring the delicious stretch of him as he pushes his hips forward, nails scratching against the denim of Eddie’s jeans with the motion, your walls squeezing around Joel’s shaft, “she always remembers me, don’ she?”

You gasp with a nod, arching your back as Joel fills you completely. Your hand tightens on Eddie's thigh, and you turn to look at him and instantly see the hunger in his eyes. Joel's hands grip your hips and he starts to move, slow and deliberate at first. Each thrust sends finite sparks of pleasure through your body, helpless to the small moans that escape your lips.

Eddie leans in slightly, mesmerized by your twisted expression of obvious pleasure but also at how Joel’s cock sinks into your cunt with the powerful thrusts as he kneels over your, sinking into the old cushion as your knees hang lazily at his hips, feeling the distant touch of Eddie’s fingers around your ankle, a constant reminder of his presence.

His own erection strains against his jeans, and he shifts uncomfortably, desperate for some relief. Joel isn’t ignoring him either, his hand coming up behind your neck to arch your chin up, exposing your chest to both of the men.

“You want a turn, kid?” Joel grunts, menacingly teasing. He never breaks his rhythm, crows feet deepening around his eyes as his face scrunches up in pleasure, before Eddie can answer Joel speaks again, “gotta earn it—show ‘er some attention.”

Eddie doesn't hesitate. His hands are on you in an instant, cupping your breasts and squeezing. The added stimulation makes you cry out, your body trembling between the two men.

“There ya go,” Joel encourages, “feels good, don’t it?”

You only realize a second too late that he’s talking to you and not Eddie, a sharp slap to your ass as you nod weakly, “Mhm, so good,” You answer softly, earning a chuckle from Joel.

“Forget how cock drunk she gets,” Joel speaks to Eddie who’s as equally mesmerized as Joel.

Joel quickly picks up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, the deafening sound of skin slapping against skin drowning out your moans and Joel’s grunts.

“Tell ‘em, darlin’,” Joel demands, “tell Eddie how good I fuck you.”

Your fingers travel higher, curling around his belt as you pull him forward until his knee is pressing into your rib cage, “It’s per—perfect,” You sigh brokenly, eyes fluttering shut as he brushes that deep spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, 

“C’mere and pay attention, ” Joel orders with a growl, nodding his head in a matching motion, “She likes it slow at first, real deep. She’s greedy. You gotta build her up - nice, slow, until she’s beggin’ for it. And trust me, she will.”

Eddie nods dumbly, fingers rising to scratch at his chest as Joel’s thrusts falter, his groans growing longer and deeper, legs shaking with his own impending orgasm.

“Touch me,” You beg up at Eddie, who’s still dumbfounded with his hand on your breast but his eyebrows quirks in question before you’re shaking your head subtly, guiding his hand down to the point where you and Joel are joined, brushing his fingertips over your clit as you nod.

Eddie's fingers circle your sensitive bud hesitant at first, then with more confidence as your breathy moans encourage him. The dual sensations of Joel's thick cock pounding into you and Eddie's skilled fingers on your clit quickly push you to the edge again, gushing over Joel’s cock as his hips falter to a stop and the surge of his orgasm forces a groan from deep within his chest, filling you to the brim with his warm seed. 

“That’s it,” Joel coos, “show Eddie how pretty you look when you come apart on my cock.”

Your orgasm crests as Eddie watches in awe, his fingers continuing their motion over your clit until your hips shake with overstimulation, sobbing weakly as you reach over your head to grip at the couch with the hand that isn’t pinching Eddie’s skin at his waist.

For a moment, there’s silence. Only a mix of your and Joel’s heavy breathing and Eddie’s occasional pant, eyes blown wide with pleasure as Joel stands with a grunt and pulls his jeans and underwear back on, hastily buttoning them before he’s nodding at you.

“Go on,” He says gruffly, “your turn.”

The ache in your cunt is devastating but Joel watches with admiration as the opaque liquid pushes out of your hole as you cunt spasms and you can sense a brief moment of hesitation from Eddie before you finally look at him, a silent moment of understanding.

“Do you want to?” You ask curiously, head rolling to the side as you glance up at him.

“Do I—huh, you’re kidding, right?” Eddie asks with a tone of incredulous disbelief. “Uh, yeah—fuckin’ yeah. I want to.”

You giggle softly, “I’m just checking,” You assure, “I don’t want to pressure you too much.”

Eddie’s eyes darken with desire but still, somehow, maintain his softness.

“There’s no pressure,” He assured, “but if—if you don’t mind I’ve got a couple ideas of my own.”

Oh?

You squeal softly at how Eddie manhandles you into his position of choice, ass held up by his steel grip as your head sinks into the lap of Joel who’s decidedly taken a seat as your head lulls to the side, peering up at him with a playful expression.

He smells like sex and outdoors, a hint of cleanliness from his washed clothes but it was intoxicating, mesmerizing, feeling the ringed hand of Eddie slide up your spine once he’s stripped himself of his remaining clothes without hesitation.

You reach down between your legs to guide him, gasping softly as the head of his cock nudges against your sensitive, swollen folds. Eddie groans at the sensation, his hips jerking forward instinctively.

“Easy,” Joel says instinctively, his eyes stuck on you as he brushes your mused hair away from your face, “remember—slow, she’ll let you know what she wants.”

Eddie nods as he eases inside of you, aided by the prior stretch of Joel, but his length is astounding, nudging deep against your walls before he’s even fully sheathed. His thrusts are fumbling at first, hearing the deep breaths he takes as he adjusts to the intense feeling around his cock, astounded that it has taken him this long to achieve such a thing.

He really shouldn’t beat himself up over, given the end of the world and all, but he can’t believe he’s been missing out on this for so long. 

Eventually he finds a steady rhythm that has you gasping with every thrust, fingers crawling up Joel’s bare chest until you reach his face, fingers curling around the back of his neck as you moan into the denim, drooling over the fabric.

“That’s it,” Joel encourages and Eddie’s eyes are stuck on you, forcing himself to commit the moment to memory, watching how greedily your cunt sucks his cock in, squeezing at the flesh of your ass as he moans pathetically, the sound making your pussy flutter.

And Joel knows he’s still being as equally selfish as earlier, your attention locked on him despite Eddie’s affect on you and there’s tinge of jealousy that strikes Eddie as he watches the exchange, your moans building in intensity before he’s less than carefully maneuvering you upright, towering over you like this with how you sunk into the cushion, his hand traveling up the front of your chest until his fingers squeeze around your neck and tilt your head back until you’re looking directly up at him, pupils blown wide.

You were his in this moment, not Joel’s.

“Open your mouth,” Eddie tells you, lips parting without argument as his thumb drags over your lips, pulling your bottom lip down as your tongue peeks out to lick at his finger with a soft giggle he matches with a toothy grin before he’s accumulating the saliva in his mouth and puckering his lips to spit into your waiting mouth, a long string stretching as it hits your tongue, moaning audibly as you swallow, sealed with a devastating wink from Eddie.

He was giving Joel a run for his money, that much was obvious.

Joel's eyes narrow at the display, a mix of arousal and possessiveness flaring in his chest. 

He won't be outdone that easily. 

With a low growl, he moves to his knees, sandwiching you between the two men as his fingers drift over your clit similar to how Eddie’s had earlier, “Speak up, sweetheart,” He bites, “is he treating you right?”

You nod eagerly, “Faster,” You beg to Eddie, a hand creeping around the back of his neck to fist into his hair that was wild and falling from the tie on his head, an attentive listener as his pace picks up instantly, “fuck—yes, like that!”

Eddie smirks at Joel over your shoulder, clearly enjoying the competition now.

Eddie tightens his grip on your throat slightly as he pounds into you relentlessly. Your body is on fire, caught between the two men and helpless to their greed, seconds away from devouring you whole if you allow it.

Joel’s fingers work your clit in tight circles as he leans into you, nearly chest to chest as his hot breath brushes your ear, “Still ain’t better than me,” He teases, “but he’s got the spirit.”

The gentle brush of his beard and his lips sucking at your neck could make you pass out if you let it and your body trembles, caught between the two men vying for your attention.

Eddie's thrusts grow more erratic as he watches Joel mark your neck beside his fingers, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your head swim.

"Fuck, you feel so good, princess," Eddie groans, his free hand snaking around your stomach, wrapped up in both the men and helpless, "Gonna make you come on my cock while he watches, alright?"

“Uh huh,” You respond airily, a stuttering gasp escaping your lips as Joel’s pace quickens against your clit and matches Eddie’s enthusiastic thrusts, his own moans growing in intensity as his head dips, breathing against the base of your neck as your hand in his hair twists and the other grasps desperately for Joel’s naked shoulder.

“That’s it, darlin’,” Joel purrs decidedly, “Let go for us.”

“I can feel it, princess—s’right there,” Eddie encourages.

Your third orgasm hits you quick, vision whiting out as you clench around Eddie's length. He follows soon after with a strangled moan, hips stuttering as he spills inside you.

The room fills with heavy breathing as you and Eddie come down from your shared high, his grip on your throat loosens, hand sliding down to rest on your collarbone. Joel's fingers slow their movements, drawing out the last tremors of your waning orgasm.

The thought dawns on you as the room stills.

You’re fucking exhausted.

A laugh bubbles from your throat unexpectedly.

“There’s our girl,” Joel chuckles, “ya still with us?”

You nod slowly as Eddie gently maneuvers away from you, the air catching in his throat as he watches this mix of his and Joel’s cum dripping from your cunt, clearing his throat as he hides the smirk on his face. There was a brief look he shares with Joel before Joel’s hand is smoothing over your back, his other hand explorative as he touches between your legs.

“What a goddamn mess,” He notes fondly, swiping up the slick on his fingers before he brings it to your mouth, wordlessly you take the fingers in your mouth and suck, “tell you what—you go on and shower, clean up—the kid and I’ll cover your turn.”

You do have other ideas, but you can sense Joel’s hesitance.

Eddie is a good distance away now, face still flushed as he digs through his bag.

“I thought you couldn’t stand to be alone with him?”

“I’ll put up with it,” Joel admits, “seein’ how much you like him and all.”

“You sure I can’t get you both to join me in the shower?”

Joel hums in disapproval, shaking his head.

“Careful, darlin’—don’t push it,” He warns.

“Do you need any help?” Eddie perks up eventually, a relaxed smile on his face as he grips the fabric of his shirt in his hands.

You shake your head and smile at the subtle rejected puppy dog eyes that flash your way.

“I think you and Joel have a lot to talk about, fortunately.”

And boy, did they ever.

[eiightysixbaby]

hi there! i'm OBSESSED with your eddie works and I had a lil request for u!

(if this is out of your comfort zone, I totally get btw, i'm just actually hormonal rn)

thinking about reader and eddie while she's ovulating and absolutely, positively feral... maybe they've only been together for a little while and they've fucked before, but he's never really seen that side of her... idk i'm just thinking a lot of thoughts rn

thanks! 💞

hi angel! thank you so much!!! 🥹🫶🏻 i hope i did your request justice 🩵

18+ only plssss. fem!reader, unprotected piv

The clock ticks obnoxiously where it hangs on the wall, marking each passing second that won’t pass fast enough.

It’s not unusual for a shift at the library to go slowly, but today time feels like it’s trudging through thick molasses; barely crawling by. Or maybe it’s just going backwards at this point, who knows.

You chew at the cap of your pen, reading the same sentence of the novel in front of you over and over yet not fully comprehending it. Trying to ignore the desperate ache between your thighs, the heat that pools in the pit of your stomach. It had been a relentless desire for the last couple of hours, a hunger that couldn’t be sated just yet.

But the promise of seeing your boyfriend after work had you chewing-through-your-leash desperate for your shift to end. You know Eddie had a nice dinner planned for the two of you tonight, but all you can think about is how badly you need his hands on you. It makes you feel bad, but you can’t rid yourself of thoughts of his lips on your neck, his fingers splitting you open, your hips grinding against him. This always happens when you’re ovulating, only this time… you’re not hiding it.

The last couple of times, you’d made do with your vibrator at home; embarrassed to let Eddie see this side of you. Your relationship was still quite new, and you weren’t sure if ripping his clothes off any chance you got would scare him away or not. This time, though? You can’t hold back any longer.

The end of your shift arrives at long last, and you practically fling yourself from your receptionist chair. You gather your belongings with haste, throwing everything into your shoulder bag before hightailing it out the door. Your keys jangle as you fumble with them, searching for the correct one to unlock your car. Eddie will be expecting you, although maybe not expecting you in the state that you’re in.

It doesn’t take long to get to the trailer park, your thighs pressing together in an attempt to provide even the smallest amount of friction as you drive along familiar roads. Your car is barely in park before you’re killing the engine, ascending the few steps to his trailer door and swinging it open without a knock to alert anyone inside. Wayne isn’t home anyway, so really what do you need to knock for?

Eddie’s frame appears in his bedroom doorway down the small hallway, his face brightening at the sight of you. You feel like you’re sweating just looking at him, your clothes suddenly too tight as the space between your thighs vibrates with need.

“Hey, baby. I didn’t expect you so soon, did you fly over here?” Eddie asks, a lighthearted joke, but he’s not far from the truth.

You don’t even answer him, slipping off your shoes before you’re trodding down the hallway, throwing your arms around his neck when you reach him.

“Baby, what’s—” he starts to speak, only for you to cut him off with a hot kiss to his lips. His voice dies against your mouth, fizzling into a soft whimper as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Missed you so bad,” you murmur. Your nervousness over how he’d react is tossed out the window, unwilling to wait any longer. “And I’ve been wanting you all fucking day,” you ramble, kissing him between words. “I need you,” you plead, letting a hand fumble with his belt buckle.

He makes a sound that’s halfway between a gasp and a laugh, kissing you before speaking. “Do you not want to go to dinner?” he asks, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“I do,” you admit with a pout. “But I need you right now.” Your hands are on a mission, palming him urgently through denim as if he might disappear any second, never to be touchable again.

The corner of his mouth twitches up in a soft smirk, his thumbs rubbing over your hipbones where his hands hold them.

“I’ve never seen you this needy, sweetheart,” he teases you, brushing his lips across the shell of your ear before he bites at the lobe. “But I like it.”

You whine at this, the slightest touch, and he breathes a quiet laugh.

“Please, Eddie, don’t tease,” you beg as he noses your chin up, kissing at your neck.

He doesn’t listen, taking his time trailing kisses down your soft skin and letting his hands wander but never close enough to where you need him. You can feel yourself dripping, making a mess of your panties. His big hands squeeze your ass, taking greedy handfuls. You let out a moan, louder than you’d intended, earning the nip of his teeth against your skin. Taunting.

You’re riled up, frustrated beyond belief, huffing where you stand before you decide you’ve had enough.

You press your hands to his chest, pushing him off of you. He’s surprised by the action, giving you the opportunity to grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him over to his bed and letting him fall onto the mattress. He sits on the edge of it, looking up at you equal parts dumbfounded and turned on. Your hands hurriedly undo the hefty buckle on his belt, unzipping his jeans as you start to straddle his lap. His cock is throbbing, leaking as it lays in waiting in your hand once you retrieve it from its confines.

“Told you not to tease,” you say. His big brown eyes roam over your face, his pretty lips parted just slightly in a state of awe. “I need you to fuck me. Now.”

“Yes ma’am,” he obeys, but it’s less him doing the work and more you taking control.

You ruck your skirt up, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side and lining yourself up with his cock, sliding slowly down onto the length of him. Your name escapes his lips as his leaves yours, already starting to rock your hips against his.

He holds you firmly in place on his lap, guiding your movements to the best of his ability. The stretch he provides you with is delicious, exactly what you’d been craving, the entirety of him filling you up perfectly.

“You’re so fucking soaked, baby,” he remarks, bringing one hand up to briefly run through his messy curls, his cheeks already flushed pink. “Feel bad you had to wait so long for me while you’ve been this worked up.”

He’s teasing you, kind of. Pitying you in a way that only makes you ache further. You bounce faster on him, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. He’s cursing under his breath as you’re fucking yourself on his length, riding him with a fervor and determination he hasn’t seen from you yet. He finds it hotter than he’d have ever expected, seeing you in such a state, and it’s taking everything he has not to finish early.

Lucky for him you aren’t far behind, desperate to cum after waiting all day. He lets one of his thumbs lazily circle your clit, sensing your desire to let go in the way your brows furrow in concentration.

Strings of moans tumble from your mouth, curse after curse of his name as you quicken your pace. Your head tips back, pure ecstasy coursing through you as you take what you want from him unashamedly. The rough pad of his finger on your clit makes you feel like you’re on fire, ablaze beneath his touch. His hips buck to meet your bounces, the tip of his cock pressing over and over against your sweet spot.

“Eddie—” you gasp, just as you fall apart on top of him. Your walls grip him like a vice, making him bite down on his lip.

He works you through your high, pulling out when he can’t possibly hold off his orgasm any longer. He pumps his cock in his fist a few times before he spills against your skin, cum dripping down your pussy.

Both panting, sweaty messes, you meet each other’s eyes and laugh.

“Feel better now, sweets?” he asks, lips pressing against yours in a heated kiss.

You break away momentarily, cradling his face in your hands. “You have no idea.”

He smiles. “Well, for what it’s worth, you have permission to use me whenever you need me.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, smiling against his cheek. “Cause I don’t think I’m done for the night.”

[mona-tiktak]

ive definitely seen a few headcanons where steve is secretly a huge dork who pretends to not know anything about anything to annoy the party and i love that so much

bc imagine a scenario where eddie, dustin or mike find out about it

i feel like itd be similar to that scene from b99 when holt tells jake about how he actually broke his wrist

obvs robin knows bc that her other half and she would absolutely fuck with them as well. shes a ride and die.

"you've known what we were talking about the entire time?"

"yeah."

"why are you telling me this?"

"because no one will ever believe you."

tho eddie would keep it a secret after finding out bc he would find the chaos of the reveal hilarious. like he finds out when he and steve finally get their shit together and is like "oh, okay. this is gonna be funny as hell." and promptly keeps his trap shut until the big reveal.

and he sets up little moments for steve to be both clueless and correct in front of the party that causes them to squint at steve bc either he's learning from listening or he just straight up guessed.

[corroded-hellfire]

Hurt/no comfort: shy!Reader slips a note in Eddie’s locker asking him on a date, but when he reads it, he just laughs and tosses it in the trash.

My brain needed to slip a soft landing in there in someway. So, there is no comfort for reader-in-the-fic, but there’s a little bit kinda sorta for person who is reading the fic. There’s a small gap if you wanna stop at the absolutely no comfort though! Did this make sense? Hope so.

Words: 1.2k

Today was the day. There had been a few times over the past couple of weeks where you’d told yourself that, too, but this was really it. 

The note is clutched in your hand as you turn the corner to the correct hallway. One more deep breath and you force your foot to take one step forward. 

Anxiety begins to creep up inside of you, threatening to seize your lungs and close your throat. To keep it at bay, you recite what the piece of paper in your grip says, over and over again.

Hi Eddie, 

I would’ve asked you in person if I weren’t so shy, but here we are. I was wondering if maybe you would want to go see that new movie The Breakfast Club with me on Friday night? I know that might not be your thing, so I’m down for whatever you might want to do! Just let me know, okay? Maybe in our last period bio. Whenever Old O’Donnell stops droning on. I’ll see you then, I guess!

“Then with a little heart drawn next to my name,” you mumble to yourself.

Your sneakers squeal against the white linoleum tile beneath you as you come to a stop at Eddie’s locker. The silver plate engraved with “527” stares back at you from where it’s soldered to the metal. 

With one last deep breath, you fold the letter up as tiny and as flat as you can before you slip it through the slats on the front of the locker door.

Quickly, you turn away from the locker. You keep your head down as you briskly walk towards the corner you came from.

Why are you running away like you’re leaving a crime scene? You ask yourself as you listen to the fast squeak of your shoes on the floor. Afraid someone is going to tell Eddie they saw you put something in his locker? Your name is already on the note, genius! 

With a soft groan, you come to a stop and lean against the cool white brick wall just on the other side of the corner. You press your back flush up against the wall and let the chill help calm your body down. 

Nothing you can do now, you tell yourself as you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. The note is already in there. Now it’s a waiting game. It’s in Eddie’s hands. 

Speak of the devil…

Boots thud against the floor as Eddie heads your way down the hall. His Hellfire shirt looks wrinkled, like he slept in it, but he sports his signature layers of leather jacket and denim vest over it anyway. 

You adjust your position against the wall, trying to look more casual than conniption-y. He notices your movement out of the corner of his eye and gives you a small, quick smile that does nothing to help your raging heartbeat calm down. 

You flash him a brief smile in return before heading the opposite way, farther away from him and his locker—or so you want him to think.

As soon as Eddie turns the corner to his locker, you spin around and make your way back to where you just were: in the perfect position to peek around the wall and spy from a distance. 

Slowly, you stick your head out so you’re able to see around the corner. Eddie is standing at his locker, entering the combination. It looks like he’s whistling, but you’re too far away to hear. 

The metal clanks as Eddie swings the locker door open, and you see the small white piece of paper that’s from you floating gently down to the floor. Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion as he crouches down to pick up the note. He slips the piece of paper between his lips to hold it as he shoves his backpack in the locker and pulls out a single yellow notebook. 

Once he’s finished and closed the metal door, Eddie tucks his notebook beneath his armpit and removes the paper from his mouth. He unfolds the paper, and your heart feels like it’s unraveling with every motion to open the note. 

You watch as his eyes scan your scrawl written in blank ink. Everyone else in the bustling hall disappears. There’s no one but you and Eddie. And the note.

It feels as if it takes Eddie an eternity to read the few lines. Your lungs burn, reminding you to breathe as you await some sort of reaction. 

Then, a corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up and your spirit is floating with hope. But the smile turns into a snicker, which turns into a chortle. With the cackling sound, your hope drops down below the hideous linoleum tiles that cover every inch of these halls. 

Eddie crumples the note in his hand, and he might as well have done it to your heart. Nausea churns through you, coming on so fast that it’s dizzying. Your hands brace you against the wall, so you don’t fall—even if your legs give out, like they’re threatening to. 

Eddie turns so his back is to you and he walks farther away. Parked in front of a window is a janitor’s trash can, which Eddie unceremoniously drops your letter into. 

Black spots fill your vision, and you find yourself needing to take giant gulps of air. You are not okay. Escape. That’s what you need. 

Sneakers protest their meeting with the linoleum floor once more as you push yourself off the wall and stumble towards the school exit. All the nerves that were previously fluttering around your body before have now turned to shards of glass, scraping and cutting you from the inside with every step you take. The people who had all disappeared when you were so focused on Eddie have now come back with a vengeance, appearing to multiply by the minute as you attempt to squeeze past them all. 

The school doors are just at the end of the hall, but your spotty and blurry vision gives you a funhouse effect, making the distance to the door seem longer and more difficult than it is. Finally, your hands land on the silver bar and the biting chill of it brings you back to reality. 

Hot tears are streaming down your face and hiccups force their way up your throat every few seconds. Snot is rapidly filling your nose and all you know is that you need to get out of here now.

You push the silver bar and the door opens, leading you into the bitter February morning that was awaiting you. Unfortunately, the first thing you’d done once you got to school was stash your jacket away in your own locker, but you’ll be damned if you step foot back inside that school today. Instead, you grit your teeth and rub your hands up and down your arms in an attempt at warmth. 

A few yards away, your car sits, beckoning to you. Knowing you’ll finally be able to have the breakdown you so want to in there, you jog in the direction of your parking space, praying the tears flowing down your face don’t freeze against your skin. 

Eddie lets the crumpled ball of paper roll off his fingertips and land in the trash can. He can’t believe it. He’s still laughing as he shoves open the door to his homeroom.

“Nice try, Jason,” he murmurs to himself as he finds his seat. “But I’m not falling for that one. Better luck next time.”

[lovebugism]

Hii i saw you wanted some smutty requests so here we go:

being frisky at the fun fair with maybe grumpy!eddie? 🤭 or whoever you think would be better.

absolutely adore your writing btw 💕

hi! this is me making sure i still know how to write lol! pls ignore any mistakes bc this isn't proofread hehe but i hope you like it anon! — eddie munson may hate the state fair, but he loves the hell outta you (established relationship, allusions to smut 18+ | 1.1k)

Eddie’s too proud for the mirror maze.

Correction: Eddie’s too proud to admit that he has no idea how to get out of the mirror maze. 

You hide your giggling behind your palm when he hits another glass pane with a resounding thud. The cartoonish sound echoes through the otherwise empty attraction, along with the boy’s whispered “Fuck!” he tries hard to hide under his breath. 

His fingertips disappear under his curly bangs as he rubs at his forehead, trying and failing to find the spot that aches. He spins on the heel of his worn sneaker, and you find his pretty features bathed in rainbow neon lights and hardened into a boyish pout. 

He glares when he catches you smiling in the face of his plight, doe eyes narrowing in a look of offense — as though you were the one making him run into every mirror.

“It’s not funny,” Eddie grumbles, now kneading his temple. “I wanna go home.”

Your smile only widens. “We still have to get outta here first, Eds,” you tell him, soft and sympathetic, as you pat gently at his chest.

The notion makes his pout deepen. His huff bounces off the glass-metal cage you’re both stuck in as he spins back around again — lest the pretty way you’re looking at him now makes him melt. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” he mumbles with a shake of his wild head.

You watch him take a tentative step forward and grin at the back of him. “It’s your fault for being so in love with me,” you joke.

You expect him to turn around and glare again — or to laugh like it’s all a big joke and say, “In your dreams, babe.” But instead, he only sighs. And beneath the soft clanging of his hesitant footsteps against the silver floor, you hear him murmur under his breath, “Yeah, I know…”

His words trail off as he turns a sharp corner. A warning bubbles in your throat, then fades on the edge of your tongue a second later. Eddie rams into his reflection before he can blink. “Shit!” he curses, half-drowned out beneath your giggling and the echoing thud of his previous impact.

“Why don’t you put your arms out in front of you like a normal person?” you wonder through a bout of unbridled laughter.

Eddie grumbles something unintelligible under his breath. He rubs at his forehead with his ringed hand balled in a tight fist — not because he hit his head like an idiot (this time, anyway), but because the neon lights coupled with frustration are making his mind all swimmy. If there was anyone not built for a state fair, it was undoubtedly and unequivocally him.

Knowing this, you exhale a whimsical sigh and wrap arms both your arms around him. “Aw, Eds…” you say, still laughing slightly under your breath as you hug him by the waist. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and rub your warm cheek along the soft leather of his jacket. You peer up at him through your lashes and find his face all pinched together — but softened, still, by the emerald-ocean lights overhead.

“Want me to kiss it better?” you offer with a knowing lilt in your gentle voice.

Wordlessly, and never losing his pout, Eddie nods in the affirmative.

You rise to the tips of your toes and brush a kiss against his temple. The boy exhales a deep sigh through his nose before his tense shoulders relax slowly against you. ‘Cause underneath all the metalhead exterior, of course, is just a really big teddy bear.

“Want another?” you ask when you see the plea swimming in his wide brown eyes.

Eddie, however, shrugs unenthusiastically in response. “If it’ll make you feel better, I guess,” he mumbles, though his lips ache with the urge to kiss yours.

You seemingly know this as you wrap both arms around his neck like a snake trying to suffocate its prey before kissing the breath from his lungs. 

Eddie barely has time to take a breath before you’re licking into his mouth — wet tongue running warm along his chapped lips, body so close he can feel your languid heartbeat pounding against his chest. 

His head swims. His stomach swirls. His mouth waters for more. His head pulls back from you all the same.

“Whoa,” he mumbles, slightly slurred, as his lips click audibly from yours. His chcolate eyes are noticeably lidded, and his mouth is distinctly rosier. The sight of your work makes you grin, similarly kiss-struck. “What are you doing?” he wonders aloud, trying to laugh.

“Kissin’ you,” you answer like it’s obvious.

His heavy eyes flit past you to peer further down the maze. They dart wildly back and forth like he’s looking for extra bodies through the glass panes. Your smile widens. “Fair’s closing, babe. There’s no one else in here…”

You trail off and press your mouth to his neck. Not exactly kissing him there, just smoothing your lips up and down the thrumming tendon of his milky white skin. You hear him sigh like he’s annoyed by it all, but his ringed hands find purchase on your hips in surrender. 

“The shit you get me into…” Eddie huffs at the ceiling, eyes fluttering shut when your teeth scratch at his pulse.

“You love it,” you assure with a smile into his skin.

He squeezes at your hips, as though in warning. “That’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Is it?” you hum sarcastically while, at the same time, nudging at his crotch with your thigh — where you can feel his cock beginning to harden through the thick fabric of his jeans. “‘Cause it kinda feels like you love it.”

“I hate you,” you hear him announce in a low grumble, just before his hand reaches for your neck. You can feel the warm silver of his rings along the back of it when he grabs you there,  pulling you away from his skin to press his mouth mercilessly to yours.

Your back hits the mirror with a dull thud, and you try not to think about how Eddie had run into it minutes prior — lest you break into another giggle fit in the heat of the honeyed moment. You just tangle your fingers in the boy’s silky, wild curls and let him make a mess of you. 

It’s all teeth and tongue. So messy, you can feel a mixture of your saliva on your chin. He kisses you with a brutal adoration, like he’s biting into the sweetest of apples.

Eddie grabs your leg with the hand not cradling the back of your neck. You can feel his rings leaving indents on the warm skin of your thigh from how ardently he’s holding you as he urges your knee up to his hips. You wrap your calf around the back of him obediently, skirt creeping scandalously up your lap. 

A whimper sounds in your throat when Eddie grinds his hips forward, trying hopelessly to soothe the aching of his stiffening cock. The coarse denim presses mercilessly to the wet spot forming in your panties. The unforgiving metal of his zipper nudges at your clit. The world spins around you.

When white lights reflect suddenly in rays along the many mirrors around you, you figure it must be the stars in your eyes. Until someone bangs along the far wall at the edge of the attraction, anyway — a dense and distant thud, thud, thud — as though they were beating the glass with their fist.

Your heart lurches into your throat. You and Eddie part from each other instinctively, squinting at the bright light as you search for the person behind it. Through many layers of distorted glass, you find a figure all in khaki — wearing a cowboy hat and a gold badge on his chest. 

Chief fucking Hopper.

“You got one minute to get the hell outta here!” Jim demands in a distant, but no less stern voice.

Eddie gapes, stunned silent, as the throbbing of pleasure between his legs starts to ebb. He’s even more horrified when you start to laugh aloud to yourself, like all of this is funny to you.

“We’re gonna need a lot longer than that, Hop,” you shout back, still giggling as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Eddie’s navigational skills are shit—”

Chest swirling with equal parts embarrassment, frustration, and longing (an albeit dangerous concoction), Eddie grumbles under his breath and reaches for your hand. “Let’s just fucking go,” he mumbles like a rumbling storm cloud as he leads you down the glass maze with a soft but unyielding touch.

“Wait— Watch out,” you caution when you catch him stomping in the wrong direction. 

Your words are punctuated by a metallic thud and Eddie’s pained shout. “Fuck!”

[elliethefroggy]

Buck doesn’t let his jealousy get the better of him, doesn’t body check Eddie at the basket ball match, Tommy doesn’t go over to his apartment, there is no kiss, Tommy does not ask Buck out on a date.

What happens instead is this:

Tommy becomes an honorary 118 member, starts hanging out more and more with everyone from 118. By extension, Tommy starts spending more and more time around Buck. Tommy finds it very inconvenient when he starts crushing on a supposedly straight Buck (Tommy tries to resist but that resistance crumbles every time Buck smiles at him).

Queue Tommy secretly pining over Buck, and sighing longingly whenever he catches a glimpse of Buck.

Now in my mind, Tommy and Chimney remained pretty close after Tommy left, close enough for Tommy to drop everything the moment Chim calls to steal a helicopter. Chim also undoubtebly knows about Tommy’s sexuality.

This means that Chim is witness to Tommy’s pathetic pining. This also means that Chim is there to catch Tommy spending far too much time looking longingly at Buck’s various assets.

“Buck’s going to remain straight no matter how long you stare at his ass,” Chim reminds Tommy. This is not the first time Chim has had to remind Tommy of this.

Tommy sighs despondently, “I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t admire the view.”

“This wouldn’t be nearly as difficult if Evan didn’t have both gorgeous looks and gorgeous personality,” Tommy says one night at a bar. Being a good friend, Chim has started taking Tommy out whenever Buck’s straightness becomes too much for Tommy to bear.

“He’s just so adorable,” Tommy continues.

“I know, buddy,” Chim says, patting Tommy on the back (Chim has also had to pat Tommy on the back a lot as of late).

“Are we sure Evan’s straight?” Tommy asks after the first beer.

Chim, with absolute certainty, says “Yes, now get over yourself, you sad, sad man.” And then Chim buys Tommy another beer because he’s a good friend.

And because Chim is such an amazing friend, Chim can’t help but pay attention whenever Buck and Tommy interact, mostly to make sure Tommy doesn’t make too much of a fool of himself.

Which means he’s also watching Buck, and he’s watching Buck watch Tommy.

And that’s when the doubt creeps in.

Chim’s known Buck for a few years now, has seen what Buck is like around women he’s attracted to, knows what Buck’s pining face looks like.

And he’s seeing that face now whenever Buck looks over at Tommy.

At first Chim doesn’t believe his eyes, figuring that listening to Tommy compliment every single aspect of Buck from his eyelashes to his laugh has corrupted Chim’s brain, making Chim see things that aren’t there.

Because Buck’s straight.

Right?

The more Chim watches, the less he’s sure. Because there’s Buck being somehow both endearingly awkward and seamlessly smooth around Tommy. There’s Buck spending way to long gazing into Tommy’s eyes, and staring at Tommy whenever Tommy’s not looking. There’s Buck zeroing in on Tommy every time Tommy enters the room; There’s Buck holding onto every word coming out Tommy’s mouth. There’s Buck laughing at every one of Tommy’s jokes (and, sure, Tommy’s a funny guy with a real dry sense of humour, but he’s not that funny).

If Chimney didn’t know any better, he would say that Tommy’s not the only one who’s got a crush.

All signs are pointing to Buck wanting to hold Tommy’s hand, go on romantic walks along the beach with Tommy, as well as do more than PG13 things to Tommy.

Does Tommy actually stand a chance?

Chim doesn’t want to get Tommy’s hopes up straight away. He needs to make sure that his hunch is correct. He needs to gather more data.

So Chim starts inviting Buck and Tommy everywhere he can think of, and then pretends to take a really long time in the bathroom so that Buck and Tommy can have some alone time while Chim is hiding behind a bush or a potted plant depending on the location, spying on them.

Tommy, because he’s a very observant person, notices Chim in the bush with binoculars pointed at where Tommy and Buck are seated, and confronts Chimney after Buck has gone home.

And Chim can’t keep a secret for shit, so of course he tells Tommy about his doubtS even though he really doesn't want to disappoint Tommy if it turns out that his hunch is wrong.

“I’ll keep investigating,” Chimney says, once again patting Tommy on the back, watching hope bloom on Tommy’s face.

Chim continues inviting Tommy and Buck to hang out, sometimes inviting others as well to avoid suspicion (Buck isn’t suspicious at all, but Hen has start narrowing her eyes at Chimney).

Tommy calls it torture, Chim call it science. Oblivious Buck is just concerned about the amount of time Chim spends in the bathroom. He asks Chimney if Chim’s having any any bowel problems. Chimney insists he doesn’t, but Buck figures Chim’s either putting on a brave face or is too embarrassed. Buck doesn’t bring it up again, but he does leaves some pamplets regarding bowel problems and their causes in Chim’s locker as well as sends Chim links to various medical websites.

Chim is mortified. Tommy finds it hilarious. Chim decides to attempt a different approach.

To try and throw Hen off the sent and to further advance his research, he gets Karen to drag them all to a gay bar to see how Buck reacts around other queer men (Karen is very amiable once Chim tells her of his suspicions; she always enjoys gossip).

Chim and Karen sit opposite Tommy and Buck, the better to observe them. Eddie, poor confused Eddie had to be discretely elbowed aside when he tried to sit next to Buck, and has been dragged next to Karen, supposedly so that Karen can arrange a play-date between Christoper, Denny and Mara. Though Karen is paying much more attention to Buck’s every micro-expressions than any word coming out of Eddie’s mouth.

Unfortunately, the gay club is a bust because Buck’s too busy learning about monster trucks from Tommy to pay attention to any other attractive man at in the bar. It’s hard to tell if Buck’s attention is due to an attraction to Tommy or if he’s just really interested in soaking up new information in that spongy brain of his.

Chim starts leaving queer memoirs scattered around the fire station (Karen gives excellent book recommendations).

Chim starts commenting on attractive men they see on the tele when it’s a particularly slow day at the station. He does this to such an extent that some of the members of B shift are wondering if Chim’s the one with a case of latent bisexuality. That thought is strengthened in their minds when Chimney starts bringing some those magazines with the romance quizzes in them: ‘Best guy for you’; ‘Your ideal guy’; ‘What your celebrity crushes say about your love life’; ‘Take this quiz to reveal your partner’s star sign’; etc.

Then Chim very loudly goes on about how gay and single Tommy is whenever Buck is in earshot (and now some of B shift think Chim’s planning on leaving Maddie for Tommy).

The first time Chim brings up how gay and single Tommy is, Tommy takes him aside to ask him what the hell that was about.

Chim says in response, “Listen, if Buck isn’t 100% straight, he needs to be aware that you’re on the market so that he doesn’t go check out all the other male fish in the sea.”

Buck doesn’t make a big deal out of Tommy being gay, acts his usual self. Though he does manage to slip into conversation that he’s an ally. And when Buck does that, Tommy feel his hope to one day hold Buck’s hand during a romantic sunset walk along the beach shrivels up a little inside him. Chim gives Tommy yet another commiserating pat on the back, and takes Tommy to a bar later that night so that Tommy can drink his problems away.

Meanwhile, Buck knows that Tommy being gay isn’t a big deal, but for some reason Buck can’t stop thinking about it.

It’s not like he’s ever had a problem with anyone’s sexuality before, so what is it about Tommy?

And representation really does matter. Here Buck is, being confronted with a Man, a big, muscular man like himself, who enjoys going to the gym like himself, who’s in a similar profession to him. And this man is gay.

And that’s going to cause something in his mind to shift. Maybe he doesn’t notice that shift at first, maybe it’s only subconsciously.

Maybe he’s going to start picking up a few of those memoirs that Chim’s been leaving around; Buck’s always been fond of non-fiction after all.

Maybe he’s going to ask Hen and Karen about their experiences figuring out their sexuality, their coming out stories (during this conversation, Karen will be staring intently at Buck, looking for any signs of the queer thoughts Buck may or may not be having).

(Chim is very happy with this because pointedly asking Hen and Karen about their queer experience was next on his game plan.)

Buck doesn’t ask Tommy about his sexuality though, not yet at least. Buck can’t seem to bring himself to ask Tommy. Though he doesn’t know why.

Then Buck does as Buck does best and goes on a research binge about all the different sexualities, but more specifically bisexuality (I imagine there is at least one sexuality quiz during that research binge).

And, at the end of that research binge, the results are conclusive. Buck is bisexual. Maybe he says that out loud in his empty apartment “I am bisexual” and it feels right and it feels so very exciting.

Once he realises that he’s bisexual, a lot of things start making sense. Including Tommy’s ass. Tommy’s very fine ass that Buck can’t help but stare at. And Tommy’s eyes. And Tommy’s hands as well. And Tommy’s laugh; And definitely Tommy’s smile. Basically all of Tommy.

Buck keeps his newly discovered sexuality to himself for a bit, wanting some time to himself to live in this new reality of his, basking in this new part of himself.

Also so that he can spend a few days staring at attractive guys without any knowing looks from his loved ones.

Turns out he spends most of those few days staring at Tommy which, again, makes sense.

Because he is such an open book, it doesn’t take Buck long to come out.

He decides to tell everyone at the next get-together. They’re all outside, having another barbecue at Bobby’s and Athena’s. Tommy is also present for this.

Everyone is of course supportive and happy for Buck. Chim is forcing himself to stay still, even though he really wants to jump up and down, high-five Karen, high-five Tommy, and then shove Tommy in Buck’s lap.

Meanwhile, Tommy is in his chair, having a deer-in-the headlights moment, staring up at Buck, wide-eyed, slightly pale, a forkful of potato salad halfway to his mouth. Tommy is so frozen that Chim has to nudge him so that his fork continues its journey to his mouth.

Tommy chews on the potatoes mechanically, no longer paying attention to the delicious taste that he’d been previously enjoying, too busy trying to act normal and trying to rein in his growing hope. By Chim’s side-eyes, Tommy isn’t doing a great job.

As the night goes on, Tommy forces himself to not approach Buck no matter how much he wants to, mostly because has forgotten how to act like a normal human being.

But then Buck is right there, in front of him.

“Hey,” Buck says.

“Hi,” Tommy replies. So far so good.

Buck is looking at him, and Tommy is trying to remember what he’s meant to do with his hands.

“Congratulations,” Tommy forces out because congratulations are definitely in order, “How are you feeling?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“Good,” Buck says in that sincere way that comes so naturally to him.

“Yeah?

“Yeah, great. I feel, I don’t know, lighter I guess. I mean, I’m still me, but now I know why I spend so much time staring at men’s asses.”

Tommy snorts, “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

There’s a pause. Buck’s staring at Tommy, and Tommy’s staring at Buck, and neither want to look away.

“Hey,” Buck finally says, “tell me if I’m completely off base, but there’s this little Italian restaurant I’ve been meaning to try, and I was wondering if you’d want to come with me.” Buck stops, swallows. Tommy watches his adam’s apple move. Buck continues “Like, as a date.”

Tommy forces his eyes back up away from Buck’s neck.

“A date?” Tommy repeats, the hope inside him soaring.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Tommy says, smiling, not sure if he can believe what he’s hearing.

“Okay,” Buck says, smiling back. It’s a smile so soft that Tommy wants to trace it with his fingers, but they’re definitely not there yet and Tommy’s trying to act normal.

“Okay,” Buck repeats a little breathlessly, that soft smile still in place.

(During this whole interaction, Chimney is hiding in a bush, binoculars in hand. Karen is at his side, asking him what they’re saying.

“I can’t read lips!” Chim says, though he tries anyway with mixed results.

But then, Hen comes along and puts a stop to it, dragging Chim and Karen out of the bush and confiscating Chim’s binoculars.)