#eddie living to make kids happy makes me 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashmouth-richie · 1 year ago

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eddie x fem reader

(honey I’m home master list)

Summary: eddie waits for results and gets a heart to heart from Wayne. Recovery is tough road, but the sun shines.

triggers: dealing with ptsd and learning to heal.

Special thanks to @sweetsweetjellybean for helping me through this one! + all the others. Only 2 more chapters to go! 🥹

“This is it,” Eddie says, swiveling in his seat to look over at you, the rings on his finger tapping gently against the steering wheel.

Smiling softly, you look through the smoke stained windows of Eddie’s van up at the big brick house. He wasn’t kidding, Steve lived in a mansion compared to the small ranch style you had called home for the past few years.

You scrunch up your nose, “jeez Steve couldn’t afford anything bigger than this? Must be going broke.” Your humor was coming back in small spurts and Eddie grinned ear to ear.

“I know,” he agrees, throwing open his door and going around the front of the van to open yours, “.. ugly isn’t it? Poor bastard has no taste.” His smile is wide and toothy like it always was, but somehow more handsome. “This is okay right? I mean just gimme the word babe and we can stay with Wayne or somethin’.”

Placing a rogue curl away from his face you twist it around your finger. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the feeling of being his, but you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter in your life.

“I’d live anywhere, as long as you’re with me,” you say sweetly.

One of his big warm hands finds your cheek, wafting the familiar smell of old spice and Marlboros to you and bringing your face up to him, “you really are the most beautiful girl, you know that right?”

Steve and Leighanne had been expecting you, checking in with Eddie to make sure you would feel at home for your stay… however long that may turn out to be. They refused to accept any money from Eddie regarding rent. “It’s no good here Munson…Leighanne and I are just happy you two are safe.”

“..and you sir,” you say, working your fingers along the cotton of his shirt, a smile pressed to your coy lips, “are so full of shit.”

His eyebrows pull together and release once you stick out your tongue in a tease. A smirk replaces his concerned expression and he pulls you up into him.

His lips enclose yours and you can’t stop the smile spreading across them.

“You ready, baby?”

For the first time in three months, you had something to smile about, to look forward to, but the weeks leading up to this were not paved in gold.

——

Eddie paced the tiles of the waiting room, nails bitten and bleeding on his left hand, threads ripped and torn in the holes in his jeans. He was a wreck.

The brief conversation with the doc while you were being prepped for surgery gave little to no relief. Few words sticking with him and running like ticker tape across a news station channel screen in his head.

“high risk”

“Possible death during childbirth”

He held your hand as long as he could before you were wheeled into the operating room, apologies falling from your lips, followed by screams of pain. Eddie was terrified but assured you everything would be okay. Even if his bravado was fake, his mask held strong on his features. Calming you instantly.

He doesn’t break until the swinging doors close and he’s standing alone in the cold hallway, the pads of his fingers pressed to his lips. A silent scream trapped in his lungs. But the salt of his tears paint his face and wash away the mask, Awww

He just got you back, and now your life possibly hung in the balance, again. He just found out he was going to be a dad, and now the baby he never got more than a week to love, was gone.

Is this what it was to love him? Everyone he ever loved left in one way or another. The punishment of loving an unlovable man meant losing your life in terms of Eddie Munson.

His mother.

His child.

It was a curse. An eye for an eye. He had killed and now he was reaping what he sowed.

What kind of sick twist of fate would allow this to happen? Would allow a pregnant woman to be beaten nearly to death? To have a child ripped from his mother as she took her final breath?

Eddie started questioning everything he had ever done to deserve such cruelty bestowed onto the ones he cherished.

What else was there to sacrifice? He’d gladly die if it meant bringing them back to him. He would take their place, cold and frigid in the ground, a soft pillow in a satin box. Six feet under.

His fingers press into his eyes until he sees stars. The grief swallowing him whole into a tangled web of desperate pleas to a higher power he wasn’t even sure he believed in and mixed humidity from sweltering heat of hell.

He wasn’t strong enough for this. And if you died during the procedure? He’d certainly crawl up and perish like the weak man he was.

His boots are heavy and squeak annoyingly all the way to the empty waiting room. The calming color scheme offers nothing but a chilled brush of fear to his neck as he fishes out a quarter from his pocket when he gets to the pay phone. Messages scratched against the paint, “welcum to h3ll” “pray for me” “for a good time call Barb”.

His fingers find home on the silver buttons, clicking the number to the plant where Wayne works, only dialed when he was in too deep.

—

The monotonous dial tone seemed to go on forever, before a gruff voice out of breath voice answered, “this is Earl.”

Eddie kept his composure through the four word sentence asking if Wayne Munson was there. A grumbled remark and a slam onto the metal counter echoed through the receiver.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes fade to what felt like hours before the familiar calloused tongue rang through the other end. The dam Eddie was holding back broke as Wayne said his name, and through one sob after another Wayne told him to hold tight and he’d be right there.

Wayne left the plant in record speed. Grease smearsleft washed clean down his face from the tears that fell on the drive from the plant to the hospital, breaking all laws to get to there as fast as he could.

When Eddie’s eyes met Wayne’s he sobbed like a child. Clutching onto the man’s work uniform like it was the only comfort he had ever been offered.

A lifetime's worth of tears stream down the Munson’s faces. And Wayne eases Eddie into a chair in the waiting room.

“She’ll be alright, Ed.” Wayne offers, a rough comforting hand rubbing Eddie’s shoulder, “she’s a tough one.”

Eddie shakes his head, “she shouldn’t have to be,” his hands cover his face, he’d take the pain for you if he could, “if I would have told her sooner… if I didn’t freak her out when I did, m— fuck.. maybe, none of this would have happened.”

He had run a million and one scenarios over and over in his head on how this could have been changed if he could turn back the time and do things differently.

Wayne drags a rough hand down his face, smearing the grease from the machines at work and scratching the itch is his wiry unshaven face. To him, Eddie was still that same little boy, eyes bigger than the moon, and the weight of it all on his shoulders.

“Son, I know this is hard, but you gotta stop and think for a minute. Ain’t no way tellin’ if this could’ve been prevented.” He stops to clear his throat, years of cigarette smoke raw on his throat.

“Sounds like that som bitch was keepin’ her on a tight leash, just waiting’ on her to be alone.” Eddie winced at Wayne’s honesty, had Chad really been in the shadows? He keeps going, “You gotta open your eyes and realize what you do have and stop frettin’ bout woulda coulda shoulda.”

Eddie hung his head low, shoulders shaking with every sob he willed to swallow down, “I didn’t— fuck man, I didn’t even get a chance to love my own kid— and n— I promised myself I wouldn’t end up like him.”

He regrets it before he’s even done saying it. Truth was, he loved that baby the minute the nurse blurted out to a room full of friends that you were pregnant. He was heartbroken that he never got to shatter the Munson reputation and show himself and this fucking town how good he could raise a child.

Wayne nearly jumped out of his overalls with fury at Eddie’s speech, “Did you hurt that girl? Nearly kill her and your own blood? Out of some jealous whiskey infused rage?”

“No,” Eddie says, knowing he’s being scolded for saying something as dumb as what he just did.

“Your daddy was meaner than a Texas rattle snake. Fucker didn’t have a good bone in his body—mama always said he was born like that. Piss and vinegar blooded.” Wayne shakes his head at his own childhood memories of a brother who showed no remorse. “You think I’m yellow bellied enough to raise a man just like ‘im? Boy I thought you knew better than that.”

Eddie shrugs his shoulders and wipes a traitorous tear away.

“That,” Wayne says pointing to Eddie’s face, “you might have the Munson last name but son you are so much like your mama, think that som bitch ever shed a tear over someone other than ‘imself? Think again, boy.”

Eddie looks at Wayne through thick wet lashes.

“You’ll be a good daddy when the time is right. These are the cards you’re dealt with and they ain’t all pretty right now, but hell, a full house ain’t nothin but a few cards that look the same, no royalty needed.”

The hillbilly way of explaining things was Wayne’s greatest achievement, it gave Eddie a sense of calm, understanding. He was a good man. He had proved that time and time again. But hearing it and believing it— were on two different plains.

Dr. Newby found Eddie in the waiting room with Wayne, hung head down and knees bouncing. He had explained that everything went as well as it could have. You were stable.

Wayne asked the questions that Eddie couldn’t pluck the letters to form the words to generate the sentences to ask. He clung to the fact that you were in stable condition.

Fading in and out to catch bits of the doctor’s answers.

“The last ultrasounds she had done when she arrived here, showed a very irregular and faint heartbeat….body was in shock and the stress and trauma put her into early labor…”

“…there was never a guarantee that the baby would have even survived to the end of this week.”

The only question Eddie could muster, “when can I see her?”

—

The effects of the anesthesia wore off, dwindling like dandelion heads in the breeze in the summer. Blown away slow and easy.

You wished you could float on one of them, gentle and sweet fluttering around and not having a care in the world. Blown by a sharp gust of wind and landing daintily somewhere new, spreading the seeds of your fortune to a new land.

But the cold press of sheets and steel sides of the hospital bed bring you back to reality.

Not wanting to open your eyes and face the true cusp of the hell you were stuck in. Not wanting to see those same dark eyes swell with tears. Eddie’s heart ache seeped into your own, pulling the threads of the sewn stitches around it with each wet tear that fell down his face.

Would you ever bring him something other than turmoil? Could he find peace with you? The devil himself laughed at your pleads and you didn’t blame him.

You needed only a few more seconds, minutes, to yourself. Collecting your thoughts and trying to be strong for him.

He had promised to never stop loving you— would he still? Would he be able to look at you the same? Love you the same?

The comfort of your closed eyelids proved better than facing what lay ahead. But you couldn’t hide from him forever.

The void was suffocating, emptiness choking you and leaving you a shell of yourself, but it all faded away when you opened your eyes, and saw him.

—

Upon waking you both sobbed into one another, mourning the loss of the little family you both so desperately craved to belong too.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I’m so so sorry.” you had cried into his shirt.

Eddie held you to his chest, his arms holding you tight and his chin rested on the top of your head. “None of that, angel girl, you hear me?” He prodded, shattering the doubt and guilt from your mind, “we have each other, always.”

Days after, your body still felt hollow, empty and sunken. And the stress you had endured hung like a gown on a poorly constructed hanger around you. A dark cloud.

The doubt and demon truths sauntered their way back into your mind. Lies of telling you Eddie didn’t love you, didn’t care about you, could never be with someone responsible for what happened to his child or himself.

That was when the nightmares started.

—

“She seems good today,” Nancy chirps, her stylish heels click against the sidewalk outside of Roane County hospital, Jonathan keeping up with her quickened pace, holding his fingers tight between hers, thankful for every single day that she chose him, no matter his faults.

Eddie walked them out to their car, the sunny April morning brought birds and the promise of spring, “she’s always happy to see familiar faces, you’re like a sister to her.”

Nancy smiles with tears in her pale blue eyes, “she’s like a sister to me too, Eddie.”

“So you guys are staying with Steve and his girlfriend?” Jonathan asks, wrapping his arms behind Nancy and resting his chin on her shoulder.

Eddie sighs and leans a denim hip onto Nancy’s car, his arms crossed over his chest, a weighty sigh falls from his lips, “yeah, for a bit at least. I don’t want her to go back into that house.”

“Oh absolutely not,” Nancy agrees, nodding along, her curls bouncing, voice small, “I didn’t want to mention this to Tooty, but my mom and dad, and Jonathan’s mom and Hopper volunteered to clean it. Rip out the carpets, replace what’s broken—whatever needs to be done.”

Eddie is stunned at the support, but feels guilty all the same, “they don’t have to do that, I— once she’s clear to go home I’m gonna go over there and clean it all up myself.”

His heart ached and burned with the thought of being handed more charity.

“Dude, Jonathan started, “you’re our friends, we’re here to help, so let us.”

An exasperated breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, vibrating his lips on the way out, “alright.”

He’s overcome with emotion at the sentiment, and almost bites his lip in half to stop the flood of overwhelming tears from bursting.

“Now the only thing to figure out is… would you both move back in there?” Nancy asks timidly, her features soft and concerning, skirting on frazzled nerves, “Steve said something about finding someone to rent it out, that way she could have some sort of income..”

“I knew a guy from the paper who needed a place to live, but when I mentioned the house…he uh— well he quickly found something else,” Jonathan muttered partly into Nancy’s collar, “ arms tightening around her slender waist.

No doubt finding someone to rent the house would be difficult. The entire town was still reeling with what happened, somehow the only thing that anyone seemed to care about was Chad’s death. Never mind his crimes.

Eddie’s head spins, a headache brewing between his brow, and he closes his eyes to push it away.

“No rush!” Nancy says, her hand laying gently on Eddie’s arm, “we will all get it figured it out, okay?” The blue of her eyes twinkling with a pure presence of honesty, and hope. “Just focus on our girl in there, she really seemed to be doing well today.”

Most days he looked haggard, dark circles colored his under eyes, worry streaking down his face in thick fatigue, still he pushed forward, bit the bullet and attended therapy sessions with you for domestic violence survivors, and his own sessions for a fancy named disorder he didn’t care to understand.

He’d take care of you just like he promised.

Eddie opens his eyes and forces a smile, “Night and day difference compared to how she was the day of,” his dark blood shot eyes swim with his admission, “but we’re hopeful.. I mean things can only get better right?”

—

The first night at your new temporary place was perfect. You and Eddie were both welcomed with open arms literally, from both Steve and Leighanne. They showed you around, telling you everything that polite and generous hosts would.

After bringing in the few bags and boxes in from the van that were deemed needed and not marked to be brought to storage, your hosts leave you and Eddie alone for time to unpack and relax.

Time that you both took advantage of by immediately stretching out and taking a nap in the big king bed you had shared all those months ago. A bittersweet nostalgic memory, tinged with pain.

The love that was made, the life that was created—seemed like a different life time ago. Trauma and stress had changed you both.

And when you wept, Eddie held you close, his own tears tickled your hairline, and you both held onto the promise of unspoken devotion and undying love for one another to get through to another day.

When you woke from your slumber, Eddie wasn’t in the bed, and it left you in a small state of panic. The unfamiliar walls closing in like a trap. And you used your therapist’s tips to ground yourself; the repeated mantra, the breathing exercises, and if necessary, a shower to metaphorically rinse your mind of unwanted thoughts.

Finding the toiletries in your bag, you pad across the hall and step into the tiled shower. The hot steam coaxing the pressure off your chest. Relaxation floods your body almost instantly.

A soft knock on the door followed by Eddie’s voice, quiet and calm. The drag of the shower curtain brings your eyes up to find Eddie on the opposite side, “you okay?”

He was gentle, always. And you nodded. You would be okay, you would always be okay with him. Nobody ever made you feel safe like he did.

An unspoken agreement that neither of you were ready for anything intimate, seemed to break. Seeing him in light other than the harsh fluorescent ones in the hospital had you reaching for him.

His hooded eyes understood, and he pulled his shirt over his head, catching on the cast on his right arm.

He was beautiful, the dark lines of tattoos and smearing bruises complimented his pale skin, and a deep feeling flooded you. Only having felt it once before, the night of his concert… right before he kissed you.

The wet tile warmed his toes as he slid in beside you. Facing you and forgoing the doctors orders of not getting his cast wet, he asks just like he did that night.

Sharing kisses in the hospital and holding each other in the hospital was the most intimate you had been since that night.

And something that brought fear was once again replaced by the gentle touch of his hand. Running down the expanse of your back. Fingers moving down your spine in memory. His forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re perfect,” he soothes, running his fingers around to intertwine with yours, “I’m so goddamn in love with you.”

The tears tread down your cheeks, and he kisses them away, making your heart swell, and you muster out a blubbery, “I love you more.”

You both stand and hug until the water chills. Exiting the shower and wiping the condensation from the mirror.

The swelling around your face had gone down significantly, and even though you didn’t recognize yourself, Eddie reassured you that you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

“My girl,” he promised.

The days got easier, friends visited and cheered you both up. The hope for a better tomorrow came with the sun and pressed daintily on your skin, healing wounds deep within that in the early days of waking up screaming, you weren’t sure you would ever come back to see again.

—

“Does Eddie like tomatoes?”

The large knife moves through the juicy tomato with ease under Steve’s hand. You were perched on an expensive barstool, elbow digging into the granite counter tops as he prepped the salad for tonight’s dinner.

A smirk licks your lips, “no, he claims he’s allergic; calls them ‘ketchup testicles’”.

Steve cocks an eyebrow and blows a raspberry, “What a moron.”

“You don’t have to cook for us, y’know?” you say, picking the dry skin from your lip.

He shrugs, “it’s just a little salad, Leighanne made the alfredo lastnight, and if I follow the instructions right,” he says picking up a piece of notebook paper, including little hearts you can see through at the bottom in a very pretty cursive handwriting, “we’ll just have to heat er up.” Steve says, pushing a rogue hair from his forehead, “besides, I actually like to cook; she spoils me and doesn’t let me help.”

“I’m happy for you,” you say with a small smile, “you deserve it.”

“She’s the one,” Steve grins, love sick pupils widening at the thought of her, “but hey, you and Eddie finally pulling your heads out of your asses is the real winner— should have slapped you both for being so damn dumb.”

The middle finger you hold in the air just makes Steve laugh.

Who knew the prince of rebellion and chaos wore his heart on a leather sleeve only for you? The blinders you wore to convince yourself it wasn’t real were finally tossed aside.

He loved you, and you loved him. End of story.

Before you could answer, the mayor of mayhem announced himself back from work, keys jingling and whistling a tune you didn’t recognize. And when his dark eyes catch yours, they swim and shimmer in adoration.

Dimpled cheeks dip onto his toothy smile, “there’s my pretty girl,” he sings, coming behind you and hugging your waist. The smell of cigarettes and motor oil stuck on his curls. Chapped lips on your temple, “how was your day?... you okay?”

Eddie hated leaving you alone, taking his lunch break to come back to the big house and check on you, using his smoke breaks to call whenever he could.

You nod into him, “better now,” leaning your head back to press your lips to kiss.

An annoyed groan follows from across the kitchen island, “let’s keep it PG in here okay? I know you guys finally admitted you love eachother but that doesn’t mean I want to see all of that.”

Eddie’s chuckle fans over your cheeks and he answers Steve but his eyes lock on yours, “big talk for a guy who could make a deaf man blush.”

Steve guffaws and stops slicing, “and what’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie grins and whispers finally looking away from you, “Quiet neighborhood… thin walls… you wouldn’t even need to ask who occupies this house with the way Steve whimpers Leighanne’s name… every night, they’re like rabbits.”

You both giggle at Steve’s expense when his cheeks turn crimson and the tomatoes he’s cutting end up mutilated.

—

Living with Steve and Leighanne was surprisingly easy. Their routines stayed the same, and Eddie went back to

work for Boom after you had settled in.

He was a saint.

He held you when the nightmares started again. Sweat pooling on your shirt waking only to find Eddie’s arms wrapped tight around you tethering you back to reality when his thumbs swept over your cheeks, and his lips kissed away your tears. Quiet whispers and soft hums of his voice lulled you as he pulled you deeper into him.

Eddie and Steve kept up the light jokes and cracks at one another all the time. it was good to be around close friends and laugh again— something both you and Eddie had missed desperately.

Laying in bed one night, you walk your fingers up his bare chest tracing the lines of his tattoos, snuggled up into his side like a cat.

His nails scratch at the fabric on your hips, “still not used to how good it feels to stretch out like this,” Eddie exhales, “I don’t know about you sweeteheart, but one more night in that hospital bed and I was going to ask Dr. Newby for fucking life alert.”

You giggle into his smooth skin, “twenty-six with life alert? Gonna thread that onto your pick chain necklace huh?”

“Shit,” Eddie chuckles, “I’d make it look so good babe, Ozzy himself would start wearing one.”

Hearing him joke around was a huge win. His bruises were fading too. But his wounds were deeper, wedged into the grim corners of his mind. Keeping him up most nights, afraid of falling asleep.

But each day the sun rose following the pattern of the moon, and another day passed. Eddie started sleeping at night again, your nightmares dormant. Medicine and therapy working into the perfect cocktail to deter his own demons.

The two of you clung together. Molded into one another like playdoh, forming a new hue after mixing your colors together. It changed with your moods, vibrant and sunny on good days and moody and dark on the bad ones. Interconnected by the fragile trauma that weaved its way into your life.

The laughing fit you are both in is partly from lack of sleep, but feels too damn good to stop. Snorting and dripping tears from your eyes, your roars turn to giggles and hiccups as you wipe your eyes.

“Didn’t know if I’d ever hear that again,” Eddie admits while rubbing your side, placing a kiss on your head.

You lean on his chest and look deep into his coal eyes.

“We’ve been to hell and back, babe… but with you, it’s, I don’t know… I just know that we will be okay, does that make sense? I’m not worried about anything because I have you, and I couldn’t do any of this without you Eddie, and I mean that. You’re all I’ve got.”

Eddie rolls you over and tucks a wet lock of hair behind your ear, “I’d do it all again if I knew I’d end up with you as my girl.”

The tears start but they aren’t sad, they’re slow and happy, grateful for having him in your life. He wipes your tears and kisses you softly, humming the same song he sang like an idiot to you in your car all those months ago.

The calloused hearted trailer park prince had won over the icy soul of that stubborn mouthy girl. A perfect pair, tarnished crowns and stitched lips.

To hell and back.

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #stranger things

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munsonhoneybaby · 1 year ago

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my love!!! That final part 🥹 you are a STAR! so good. the way you write dialogue, your Eddie especially... he's so so so lovely to read. somehow you keep his edge but all the while he's the nicest fucking guy to ever walk the earth!!!

if one day you're feeling a blurb about them or something, I'd love to read the first meeting with Wayne - I think it could be so funny and sweet. and honestly I just need an endless stream of that version of Eddie and his sweet nothings and his fondness 🥺 obsessed with everything u do WOW

you’re so sweet !! i'm so happy you enjoyed, thank you so much for reading and sending in this ask !!

series masterlist

“Are you sure about this? I feel terrible taking up his day off with this, he should be enjoying his free time.” Frowning nervously, you picked at a string on your jeans. Though you’d been to their trailer three more times since the first, you’d yet to run into his uncle Wayne. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, but you didn’t particularly want to meet him the morning after sleeping at his home unannounced. So, after making a few passive comments to Eddie about wanting to meet him, you were pleased when Eddie told you Wayne wanted to have lunch with both of you. But now, the nerves were starting to settle in.

“He will enjoy this. He’s been dyin’ to meet you, baby, believe me. I already told you, he’s gonna love you.” Taking your hand over the console, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Besides, we’re just goin’ to lunch at the diner. It’s not a big deal.” Pulling into the open spot next to Wayne’s truck, he put the van in park and looked over at you. “Ready?”

You blew out a breath, “Yeah, I think so.”

As he always did, Eddie got out first and opened your door for you. When you went inside, he instantly spotted Wayne, standing from the booth to greet the two of you. “Hey, Wayne.”

“Hey, kid,” He replied, pulling him into a solid hug. With a subtle yet warm smile, Wayne said your name. You held out a hand to shake but instead were given a fatherly embrace much more careful than the one he’d given his nephew. “I’m glad I could finally meet the young lady makin’ this troublemaker so happy.”

“It’s great to meet you, too. I hope you didn’t have to cancel any big plans to make time for me today,” You jested politely.

He gave a quiet laugh in response and said, “Of course not. Sleepin’ on the couch in the living room ain’t more important than this.” The waitress came to take orders, service coming quick due to the few customers in the diner. “I hear you listen to the same kind’a music as Eddie,” Wayne chimed amiably. “You like his music, too?”

“Of course,” You smile, “I think he’s incredibly talented. I love seeing him perform.” The rockstar in question was embarrassedly hiding his flushed face in his hands.

“I’d come to his shows if I could, but I’m always at work,” Wayne expressed regretfully. “I hear him in his room all the time, but I’ve only seen ‘im on stage once or twice since that middle school talent show. I’m glad he’s got someone he cares about there to support him all the time now.”

The food came, saving Eddie from any further spotlight, and you did your best to continue making conversation between bites. “So, did Eddie get any of his music taste from you?”

“Oh, he’d never admit it, but he tolerates some old country music thanks to me. All that metal and rock stuff is good ‘n I like that he likes it, but it’s not really my speed.”

“I’ve gotta say, it’s a little hard picturing Eds listening to country music,” You chuckle.

“Just when I’m with him,” Eddie specified.

“I’m keeping him open-minded.” The waitress placed a single check on the table and Wayne was quick to open his wallet.

“No, please– let me,” You tried to stop him.

“I would never let a lady pay for a meal. This is my treat, darlin’.” It was becoming clearer and clearer how much of an influence your boyfriend’s uncle had had on his upbringing. Handing the cash and the bill to Eddie, he nodded toward the register. “Go take care’a this.” Eddie looked over at you, but you just smiled reassuringly, so he headed for the counter. Before you could start into another line of polite conversation, Wayne spoke. His voice was gruff, quiet. There was sentiment in his tone, though he tried to hide it. “I really am glad you and Eddie found each other. I’m sure you know by now that not many people in this town give ‘im a chance. I would never wanna embarrass the boy, but he hasn’t exactly introduced me to many girls in his life. I’m glad he’s found one that’s a little more like him– that understands him.”

After glancing back at Eddie, handing over the money for your meal with a kind smile, you gave Wayne a fond look. “He cares a lot about you too, you know. It means the world to him that you took over when his Dad went to jail. And I don’t know if it means anything coming from me, but I think you did an amazing job with him.”

You could’ve sworn you saw a tear well in his eye, but he looked away briefly before you could see for sure. It didn’t seem like people acknowledged his parenting effort often.“You’re a sweet young woman. You’re real good for him.”

“I appreciate that,” You responded honestly.

You both started to box up the leftover food and– just before Eddie came back to the table– Wayne added, “I’ll have to show you the few baby pictures I’ve still got around of ‘im,” making you chuckle.

Eyes narrowing slightly as he gave Wayne his change, Eddie asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” You answered playfully as you stood from the booth. His uncle did the same after leaving a generous tip for the kind pregnant woman who’d waited on you. The three of you headed for the parking lot, stopping briefly to say your goodbyes before you split up. “You’ll have to let me cook for you sometime,” You insisted.

With another one of those barely-there smiles, Wayne clasped a hand over Eddie’s shoulder paternally. “You’ve got a good one here, boy, you’d better take good care’a her.”

Before he could respond, you assured him, “He does, Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, please, never call me that. It’s Wayne. It was nice meeting you. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Of course, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Once you were back in the van with Eddie, he put the key in the ignition before pausing and looking over at you. “So, what did you two talk about while I was gone?”

“None of your business, nosy.”

Dramatically starting the van, he backed out of the parking spot as he replied, “Y’know what? Fine. Now I’m not gonna tell you about Jeff’s date with that chick from his calc class.”

“Hey, wait, c’mon–”

———————————————————————

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#too much in common #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #asks #eddie munson

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tommykinard6 · 8 months ago

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Invading your inbox, like you asked :) <3 I would love to hear more about your omega Eddie, alpha Buck and omega Tommy headcanons? If you want to share them. 🧯🚒.

Nonnie, this ask makes me very happy, thank you 🥹

First off! This here is my Buddie a/b/o fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/24914782/chapters/60292255

I haven’t updated in a long time and I’m not sure when I will; my writing style has changed. But that’s something!

Omega Eddie is very much house husband, stay-at-home dad vibe. Not that I personally think he’d leave firefighting, but it’s the vibe, ya know? He’s been in control and struggling and trying to do everything alone for all his life. He needs to be pampered and taken care of. He definitely wants more kids, but is hesitant to commit to having more without knowing they won’t be abandoned again.

Buck is a gentle alpha. All he wants is a family and to provide the life, love, and stability he didn’t have growing up. Protective mode goes hard with him. Any threat to his mate(s) and he’s gone.

Tommy is commonly mistaken for an alpha. He’s not built like a stereotypical omega, all muscle and bulk. It’s partially a shield, against his family and the world around him, and partially just who he is. He finds it hard to be an omega, convinced that he’s always doing it wrong. He’s primarily attracted to alphas, but no alpha has ever felt secure standing side by side with him. Not to mention the fear he had working at the 118. He hid his secondary gender, pretended to be an alpha, but the captain was aware of all of his mens’ designations. And as we know, Captain Gerrard was a fossil, out of his time and not one for omega rights.

Indulge me in a little polyfire for a moment.

Buck doesn’t know what he’s doing, courting two omegas at the same time. Both of them have walls up, wary eyes and reluctance to be truly themselves. He knows both of their pasts. He knows that Eddie was abandoned by his alpha (after a long and tenuous relationship where neither were innocent) and lives with a constant fear of it happening again. He knows that Tommy’s been failed by every alpha figure in his life save one army mentor and has been rejected too many times, always too much for his previous partners. They’re both haunted, and so is he. The idea of courting both at the same time is ludicrous.

But then he watches them as they open up towards each other, accepting each other as prospective mates and partner omegas. Nothing quite stops the rumble when he comes home to find them both asleep in the nest, curled around each other.

And he watches as they both open up to him, the wariness leaving their eyes. And he thinks it could actually work, the three of them together.

Now when the discussion of pups comes up, that’s a doozy.

If you want to hear my NSFW headcanons for the a/b/o 911 verse, feel free to ask further!

#911 abc #9-1-1 #911 show #tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy #buddie #buddietommy #eddie diaz #omega tommy kinard #omega eddie diaz #omegaverse #alpha evan buckley #a/b/o dynamics #tk6 talks a/b/o #tk6 answers

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cr3ziy · 1 year ago

Text

'Ello 'ello 'ello (sorry)

So, down here you will find my comments and thought of s2e8 of OFMD, while I was watching it, that's all. I'm just hoping not to get goodomensed again...

⚠️SPOILERT ALERT⚠️

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Ed coming out of the ocean with is leathers on is FUCKING ICONIC!!

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"And you're Pinocchio" Izzy Hands: the man, the moment!!

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ISRAEL HANDS, HIS NAME IS ISRAEL... of course I knew that Izzy couldn't be his full name but I didn't think it would be Israel... it fits him soooo damn well!!

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THE LETTER OH MY GOD🤧😭😭

"YOU WRITE ME A LOVELY LETTER!"🥹❤️

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I will not start talking about the reunion 'cause I'm afraid that I won't be able to stop... I will just say that I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE HEART, MY SOUL, MY ENTIRE BEING🤧❤️❤️

BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS?

"I love you. I love you"

"I know. I know that"

CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING?!?!😆😆😆

(Also, Star Wars reference)

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✨️babe✨️

I swear this two are gonna be the death of me

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She's so precious🥹❤️

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NOOO DON'T YOU FUCKIN' DARE!!

DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE TO KILL HIM!!!

I SWEAR DAVID JENKINS I WILL FOUND YOU IF HE DIES!!

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"Eddie"🥹

Stop it Izzy you're making fucking emotional🤧

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That's it, David Jenkins watch your fucking back!!

ISRAEL "IZZY" HANDS YOU WILL BE DEEPLY MISSED, YOU DESERVED BETTER THAN ALL THE SHIT YOU GOT!! LOVE YOU TO INFINITY AND BEYOND❤️

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Can't believe Pete and Lucius finally got married I'm so happy for them.🥳😍😍

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THAT LOOK!!! They're going to be next🤭

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I don't even know what to say... I love them so so so soooo much🥹❤️

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Well so that's it... just kidding of course they're going to do a third season right?... right?

Anyway, this was just half happy ending... Izzy DESERVED to be there, for Pete and Lucius' wedding, for living with a true and lovely family... you will be missed darling🥲❤️❤️

In conclusion I'll just say ✨️COMMUNICATION✨️ (you know who I'm talking to)

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queenimmadolla · 1 year ago

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i think penny and baby wayne are spending saturday (it’s saturday here - JUST) with big wayne.

baby wayne has finally been discharged from his consultants, he’s a healthy weight, a little behind in some things but he’s doing so well.

penny is so proud of her baby brother she’s telling everyone they meet that he doesn’t have to see the doctors every thursday anymore.

big wayne takes them to the park, penny cackling manically as she begs him to push her higher on the swings. baby wayne surverys the park with a frown, not all that impressed with the noise of the children playing. he takes them to feed the swans, penny LOVES the swans and thinks its hilarious when they hiss. (she starts hissing at eddie and it freaks him out)

you and eddie are enjoying a day without the kids, eddie took them over to wayne’s earlier in the morning and then joined you back in bed. cuddled up together you swear you’ll get up in half hour but it’s nice just to feel like two teenagers again.

this isn’t even sad but it’s making me all teary.

no more frequent hospital visits for our baby and penny is so happy and relived about it! and a whole day with her favorite person (sorry mom and dad)??? things are just looking up for penny!

you’re spot on with baby wayne, the sounds of other children’s laughter does not bring a smile to his face. in fact, they disturb him. makes it hard for him to do nothing and stare at his sister from his place on his grandpa’s arm as Wayne pushes his Penny in the swing with his other. he’s not fond of the swans either, grips onto Wayne’s shirt while he gives Penny some feed to toss their way (he’s got to keep a sensible distance away from them because Penny will try to grab one—she’s done this with a duck before, and hadn’t done so in the most gentle of ways).

(And to be fair, Penny does the hissing thing at the most random of times and more often than not in the dark so yeah, Eddie jumps like six feet in the air lol)

but what REALLY got me was the last line. i stopped labeling these fics as such, but reader and Eddie are indeed young parents. they had Penny fresh out of high school. yeah, Eddie is a little older��but if we hadn’t known he got held back, we wouldn’t question it because, despite his age, he was very much so mentally a teenage kid.

and while they weren’t technically teenage parents (having had penny at 20 and 21), they were still incredibly young, considering most people feel like they’re mentally 17-18 years old up until they’ve hit their 30s and then they start feeling like they’ve hit the mid-20s maturity level you see represented in media such as Friends. (yeah, in season 1 with their nice ass, unaffordable-on-a-single-income apartments and steady social lives, they were 24-26)

for an entire morning (and maybe afternoon if Wayne is feeling real generous) you and Eddie get to be teenagers again 🥹🩵

#$ replies #pennyverse asks #pennyverse headcanons #pennyverse #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader

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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

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TUI12

“I want Ms. Sweetheart on my team.” “You can have Grampa Wayne.” 😂🥹

Not this man tryna moonwalk 😂😂😂

“No, but she’s gonna be my mommy soon!” Harris replies happily. “She and my daddy are gonna fall in love and then she’ll be my mommy.” His voice lowers as concern mars his words. “But don’t tell anyone, okay? Because it’s my birthday cake wish and I need it to come true.” BABY BOY😭

Mac Daddy Wayne is definitely conspiring with /helping Harris get Eddie and Sweetheart together.

“He makes a mental note to pick up a harmonica or a kazoo or something else noisy when that kid’s birthday rolls around.” Maaaan I’ve been there 😅

“my birthday wish is coming true.”🥹

Okay I love when you tell a kid that something they make looks good and they say “I know.” 😂😂

“You wanna make a card for your mom?” “No, it’s for Ms. Sweetheart. I wanna write ‘Be Mine Mommy.’” *falls to the floor sobbing uncontrollably*

“Look, Har. I know you want her to be your mommy. And between you and me, I’d love for her to be your mommy, too.”

“Before we can ask her to be your mommy,” Eddie continues, “I need to figure out the perfect Valentine’s Day date to impress her. Wanna help?” Harris purses his lips in concentration, resting his chin in his hand. “How about McDonald’s? They have a ball pit!” We all know Sweetheart would go on a lot of ball pit dates if it meant making Harris happy. 😍

THE MIX TAAAAAPE!!!

Argyle as the class instructor!?!?😍😂

“Wayne’s staying with him tonight.” He omits the fact that his uncle was the one who’d offered to babysit overnight, a not-so-subtle hint at his expectations of Eddie’s evening plans. <- MY MAN!

“Been dreamin’ about worshiping this body…you,” 😩😩😩

Imagine it, though, Eddie can’t stop himself from thinking. Imagine the intimacy of filling her up every night until she’s carrying my baby. Taking any little bit that drips out and stuffing it back inside to make sure it takes. Imagine kissing her growing bump every morning to greet her and our unborn child. *SCREAMING*

I love you, is his last thought before he falls asleep, but he convinces himself that he’s not ready to speak it into existence. 😫😭

BUUUUG I LOVE IT. Everything was phenomenal! Exquisite! Magnificent! 😚🤌🏼 I can’t wait for the next part!!!! 😍😍😍

Eddie has many talents, but moonwalking is not one of them, unfortunately. Have you seen JQ's lil shimmy dance? That's pretty much the extent of his talents.

The scream I scrumpt at the Andy Samberg gif. That's honestly how I felt writing it, too.

You can thank @lofaewrites for the mix tape. She actually made the fan art before I even wrote the scene, and it inspired me to make that be his gift to her.

Eddie's breeding kink lives rent-free in my loins head

The next chapter has a bit of angst but it's okay!!!!! Don't stop loving me pls!!!!!

#answered

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andvys · 1 year ago

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Then, he didn’t understand it but looking back, he now knows that he had always loved you. It wasn’t a love that needed to be built up, it was one that was just there naturally and it got stronger and stronger over time. You had his heart from the very beginning, he was yours, wholeheartedly yours.

wait that's such a beautiful description of love 🥹

He was content with waiting, even if that meant waiting forever. He would because there is no one else that he wants, no one but you.

HES A CUTIE PATOOTIE

“I got you, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your skin as he buries his face in your neck after taking your shirt off, he sucks on your skin, marking you up. He pushes you down on the bed, you put your hands on his waist and pull him down with you, catching him off guard a little. His nose bumps against yours, making you both groan.

wish that were me rn

His eyes light up and he smiles, “I’m your girl?” He jokes, wiggling his brows.

HES MY BABYGIRL!!!

You touch his chest, tracing his tattoos and leaning in to kiss them, “I always loved these so much,” you whisper.

tattoos or boobs? 🤨

“You’re so beautiful, fuck,” he mumbles as he continues to suck on your nipple while his other hand grabs at your other boob, “my sexy little rockstar.”

I WANNA BE A ROCKSTAR

He grabs your ass, lifting you up a little as he buries his face further into your pussy, moaning and whimpering against you. He loves it, he loves you.

oh no that's hot 🥲🦋

He slips his fingers into you, stretching you open for his cock. His tongue finds your clit as his eyes lock with yours yet again, “keep your eyes open, look at me, baby,” he whispers when he sees your eyes fluttering.

WHATEVER YOU SAY BABY 👁🫦👁

Eddie feels you in his heart, he feels you in his soul. God, he loves you.

THATS BEAUTIFUL 🥹🥹

All the torture, all the pain is finally over. He has you and you have him and now you can finally let the light in, build your life together and live the way you always wanted to; together.

i love them so so much

“Me too, darling,” he whimpers against your lips, “you’re my forever.”

YOURE MY FOREV- ARE YOU KIDDING ME 😭💓

“The thought of being your boyfriend makes me hard again.”

wish someone felt like that about me fr

Blood rushes to his cock when you get closer to his dick, you lick his happy trail, smirking at the gasp that fell from his lips.

HAPOY TRAILS SIABSISBS you do not understand how much i love them

“Can I eat you out in the shower?”

what beautiful words to be told

“In the sheets?” Gareth wiggles his brows at Johnny, causing him to laugh.

BAHAHA I LOVE HIM

Eddie’s eyes soften, he looks at the tiny little human in your arms and he can’t help but imagine one of your own– he wonders what they would look like, would they have your eyes or his? He hopes they will get your pretty eyes. “Hmm, he looks like a little Jeff with the big head.”

SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING I WOULD ACCIDENTALLY SAY 😭

The little boy scrunches his face up, making a funny nose. You frown, taking his tiny hands, “shh, you don’t have a big head, little one.”

HAHAHA PLEASE

“I can’t wait to have one of our own,” he whispers, squeezing your arm.

oh?

He nods, “yeah, I’d have one with you right away,” Eddie says with a blush on his face.

OH?? 🤨

You snort at his words, “I’m not gonna be a stay at home mom while you tour the world and get to be around all these pretty groupies while I–” He cuts you off with another kiss, “I don’t care about them, you know that,” he mumbles, frowning at you, “and I’d be willing to be a stay at home dad if you wanted to continue touring.”

EDDIE THE STAY AT HOME DAD

“Oh fuck,” he groans as his eyes widen, “you make me wanna bend you–

NOT IN FRONT OF THE CHILDREN !!

He tilts his head, glaring at her, “I’m talking about little Olaf.”

I LOVE LUCAS SO FUCKING MUCH 😭😭

To my little girl,

OH NO THATS GONNA BE SAD

“Goodbye dad,” you whisper for the first time. A fallen star appears in the sky and a gentle breeze touches your cheek. A sad smile appears on your face. For a moment, you just stand there and look up into the sky.

AWWWW GOODBYE :(((

He can’t help but kiss you again before he whispers, “we’ll burn the sky.”

OOOHHHHH

ANDYYY THAT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL!! I LOVED EVERY PART OF IT, IT WAS EQUALLY SO SOFT AND LOVING AS WELL AS HOT AND AAAAA IM WAITING FOR THE EPILOGUE 🥹🥹🫶

I’m so happy you liked the final chapter! 🥹 The epilogue is gonna be even softer!

Eddie truly is a babygirl isn’t he 😩 The happy trails are hot, especially Eddie’s and steve’s 🥰

Eddie insulting Jeff’s baby was fun to write 😭 and he would totally be a stay at home dad which would confuse steve so much (he’d also be jealous 😂) You’re gonna get a glimpse of their future in the epilogue 🤭

#andy’s asks #honey anon <3

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mmunson86 · 11 months ago

Text

You are going to kill me with the opening of this chapter! I am not kidding when i tell you i have fallen head over heels for Eddie every chapter i find myself smiling like a fool, he is too precious for this world 💗

He has a way of making you feel safe & at home this routine that we have fallen into him just feels right making breakfast & starting the day off together feels so right 🥹

Lol not us about to spill the tea to Chrissy about Eddie with Steve right next to us, excited is understatement Chissy lol you scared your baby girl😅

The Harringtons are the best they have really been the most amazing friends i love them! & oh shoot we burned the food, but we tried we really wanted to try for Eddie and now we messed it up🥲

“I wanna hold you. I hate when you’re sad. Kills me. Come here”

I am telling youuuuuuu this is going to make my heart explode of happiness how & what did we do to get this lucky!? It feels like living in a dream but its reality Eddie is here proving to us every day that love may be out there for us🤍

Fuuuuck we almost kissed ! Curse you pizza delivery person!😭

Fuck Chrissy caught that? She saw us & Eddie during the ceremony? I mean when he keeps looking at us making us blush how could we resist? He is to darn handsome & sweet

“Good thing you can’t get pregnant twice,”

LMAO really Robin lol?

Lol i love Chrissy she was ready to hand over Melody over to Steve as soon as the ceremony Ended she needed a drink asap😅💗

Babe he might be your WEDDING parnter for the night but he is OUR BABY DADDY you can let him go now his duties as best man have been fulfilled 🙂

Yup a BABY Hilary & guess who the dad is! Yup you guessed it right , Eddie now if ya dont mind we are going to steal him from you🙃

OMG OMG its freaking happening OMG my heart is beating 10000 MPH ! Everything has been leading up to this moment and we finally said it

“You, Eddie. I want you.”

YES!🥹🤍

Chapter Six: The Date

summary: you and eddie go to a wedding together. and decisions are made. (7.4k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

masterlist | previous chapter, next chapter

——

Saturday Morning light seeped through billowing curtains. Golden rays casted shadows along the tan carpeting, illuminating the space in a heavenly glow. You could smell that morning Spring breeze — the freshness of it, the tease of a beautiful day to come. The warming March air teased along your skin, gooseflesh pimpling across heated skin.

Heated by the man curled up behind you. His fingers remained curled around your midsection, rings discarded into a tray at his bedside. The touch seeped through the tee shirt you wore, your own fingers itching to reach out and trace the forearm keeping you held in place, while your head rested on Eddie’s other toned bicep, your pillow forgotten.

Breath puffed along your ear. His face pressed into the curve of your shoulder, curls dangling along your skin. If you reached out, you’d be able to tangle your fingers in the feathery curls. Would watch them extend and retract with a bounce, falling messily into place as they always did.

“Morning.”

It was a muffled moan at your neck, his face turning into it as he hugged you tighter, limbs stretching out beneath him. Vaguely, you wondered if he’d even realized what he was doing — holding you tighter, wrapping himself further around you, locking you into an embrace. But you eased into it, a low hum spilling from you as your fingers reached down and trailed along the backs of his knuckles, his laughter making your heart soar when your fingertips tickled along his flesh.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to block out everything else around you. Allowed the simple haven you created here in his room with him over the span of several days. A safe space for you to share and for him to listen, for him to express his heart and for you to open up yours. Smiled to yourself as he relaxed further against your back, and you sank into him, your head nuzzling further into his bicep.

In the distance, his wall clock alerted you he’d have to head out to the shop in an hour, but in here time didn’t exist. At least not right now. Not as he shifted his arm from beneath his head and propped himself up on an elbow, palm pressed to his temple as he looked down over at you.

As you rolled over, you were shadowed and sheltered in the safety of his gaze, those umber eyes locked on yours and he simply stared. Beheld you, like he thought you might run away. Part of you wanted to. And the other — the other part, beaten and battered by love, still held onto hope that there were good people in this world.

Good people like the man beside you, with love in his heart, full to the brim, a best friend to you now.

“Good morning,” you murmured back, gripping his chin in hand and wiggling it lightly, earning a soft smile out of the man. He groaned and flopped back down onto his pillow, forehead smashed into the fabric, hair splayed out every which way, the man dramatic as ever. Endearingly so. “We should probably get up. You have to leave in a few. I can make coffee. I owe you after that back rub.”

He followed you begrudgingly. Like a boy much younger than his nearly thirty years, with his feet dragging behind you down the hall, fingers reached up to tie his hair back into a messy ponytail at the back of his head. Little pieces spilled out around his face, and you fought back the urge to reach up and push them behind his ears. To see if he’d lean into your embrace like he had so many months ago, and lay a kiss into the center of your palm, stealing your breath all over again.

But instead you turned around to face the coffee pot, prepping the contents of the machine as Eddie rummaged about in the fridge and took out some things needed to throw together some breakfast for the two of you. With pancakes cooking on the stovetop, you shifted and pressed your hip into the countertop.

He tipped his head your way, beaming as he reached out and tugged you closer, your front nearly bumping into his side. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Really riveting things,” you told him, mouth curling into a smirk. “As in, shopping with Chrissy for the wedding tomorrow, and grabbing lunch with Robin, her and Melody. Elena is our honorary fifth wheel.”

“Dress shopping,” he mused, flipping a pancake over, head dipped lower as he tossed some blueberries into another pancake.

“Yeah,” you began, a teasing lilt imbuing your tone, “Got asked on a date or something. Figured I should try and look nice.”

“You always look nice.” Your cheeks burned at his words. “Who is this guy? Should I be worried?”

“Mmm, he seems nice enough. Hope he doesn’t mind that I’m almost six months pregnant.” At his narrowed gaze, you laughed, shoving at him lightly. “What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“Around dinner time,” he said, sliding over the finished pancakes onto a plate.

You rushed around him before he could say a word and brought them over to the kitchen table, placing them alongside the bottle of syrup and glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. With a click, he turned the stove off and tossed the pan into the sink to let it cool down, grabbing you both cups of coffee the way he knew you liked and brought yours over to you, your hands cupped gratefully around it with a soft smile tossed his way.

“You’re wearing a green tie, right?” you asked, cutting a piece of your pancake and placing it in your mouth, humming around the blueberries that burst to life on your tongue. Eddie was practically glowing with it, dimpled cheeks and all, and your heart stuttered at the look in his eye.

“Yeah, sage green is what Chrissy and Suzie called it,” he replied, sipping some of his coffee, rubbing at his stubbed jawline.

“I’ll try and somewhat match you then,” you said. “I don’t want to step on the bride's toes.”

“I’d like that…”

He leaned back against his chair, and you leaned over the table closer to him, fingers hovering over the little bit of syrup he’d gotten on his cheek. Dark eyes watched your face as you brushed your thumb over the plushest part of it, wiping away the traces of his sugary treat.

“I think I’m going to try and make dinner tonight,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm as Eddie relished in your touch, his dark eyes softening, that mouth of his twitching into a smirk at your words. “I think I’ve learned a thing or two these weeks, Munson. I think it’s about time the student becomes the teacher.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm. So don't worry about anything. You just have a good day at work, and I’ll take care of things around here.”

Proud of yourself, you leaned back against your chair, satisfied and full from his delicious breakfast, a hand curled absentmindedly over your middle. Eddie rose, his chair squeaking in protest, a kiss pressed to the crown of your head in thanks as he collected your plates and tossed them into the sink.

With a harrumph, you joined him, nearly shoving him out of the way with a teasingly hissed, “Shoo — go get ready!” and a jab aimed perfectly in the middle of his stomach, making the poor guy hunch over in a laugh, his bright and joyful face twisting the vice around your heart even tighter.

——

“So…any new events since we last spoke — no, sweetie, that’s not a toy.” Chrissy plucked the remote Melody had stolen from beside Steve’s thigh from where she crawled around on the couch, alternating between crawling in her father’s lap and smacking his face with an eager palm, seeking out his affection.

“Chris, stop tormenting the girl,” Steve laughed, watching as the players on the screen glided around on the ice, one player managing to score a goal that had Steve breaking off into an excited shout. “She’s going to run out the door if you keep it up.”

“We’re good,” you admitted, toying with the frayed edge of a pillow you dragged onto your lap, thighs curled beneath you on the couch. “I mean, we’re going to the wedding tomorrow as dates so…I don’t know.”

You shrugged, and Chrissy looked like the cat who ate the canary. Nearly bounced up and down on the couch, rocking you with the flurry of her movements, her arms coming up to loop right around your shoulders just as Melody broke out into shrieking wails from where she rested in Steve’s lap.

“Oh, baby!” Chrissy cooed, scrambling back over to her little one, kissing at her chubby cheeks and brushing away those water droplets falling from pretty hazel eyes. “I’m so sorry. Momma is just really excited.”

Steve grunted as Chrissy and Melody swapped, his wife now draped over his lap, hands coming to curl around her despite it though. You thought it sweet, the way he tucked them both in close, brushing his lips over her temple as she settled her head over his sternum, rocking their baby in her lap.

It was hard to not wonder. To not dream that this might be your own reality. That there could be a world where you loved and received love in return — the kind you’d long given up on.

Steve glanced your way as you absently traced a palm over the hill of your belly, Elena a comfort despite the unease steadily growing in your chest. “I don’t like speaking for him when he’s not here, but he really cares about you. Both of you.”

“So much for stopping tormenting her,” Chrissy teased, though it was warm with affection, her hand stroking along his chest beside her head.

“I’m not the one constantly trying to play matchmaker with our best friends,” Steve retorted, snickering when Chrissy pouted up at him adorably.

Your heart raced over best friends. Truly, you didn’t know what you’d have done without the Harringtons. They’d been there when you had been alone. Had been there on nights when Robin was gone for the night and your grief got the better of you. And now — now they meant the world to you.

To you and Eddie.

In a few months, to Elena as well.

“I’m giving her encouragement. So much has changed in a short amount of time, so I can only imagine what you’re feeling.”

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, then looked at Chrissy. “Both of you, really. I don’t know what I’d have done without the both of you and Robin. Elena is definitely not short on love by any means. But I really should get back to the house. I told Eddie I’d make him dinner — okay, now both of you are looking at me like you’re meddling. We’re just…we’re…”

“Feeling things out,” Steve suggested, and you nodded.

“I’ll see you both at the wedding tomorrow,” you said, grabbing your things and walking over to hug Chrissy as best as possible from where she lay on her husband’s lap. Then leaned down and placed a loud kiss on Melody's cheek. “And you too!”

——

The first thing Eddie noticed when he kicked off his shoes and walked into the home was the sound of music playing. Something slow and sweet, a soft, lilting thing. The second thing he noticed was the unmistakable smell of what he assumed to be dinner burning. Followed up only then by the sound of your fretting in the kitchen. Whimpered little cries that had him stepping further into the home hastily, whipping around the corner to find you at the kitchen table with your head in your hands and a burnt to a crisp looking lasagna on a potholder at the stovetop.

“Sweetheart…” he called out, knowing you’d been a little easily startled as of late. And emotional. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see your dejected state, the way your shoulders were hunched over in defeat, tears dropping into the placemat beneath your head, sides shaking with your tears. “Hey, hey, what happened here?”

When you lifted your head, Eddie’s heart sank. The red tint to your eyes, the puffy lids, the downturn of your lips, tear tracks across your cheeks. With a whispered coo of your name, he tugged you up and off the chair and onto his knees, arms curled right around your form as you pressed your head into his shoulder, sniffling noisily.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. But I did, and by the time I woke up, it had burned and now dinner is ruined,” you whined, his mouth shifting downward as you clung tighter to his shirt, clutching the fabric tight in your hand. “I wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been so good all these weeks and I appreciate everything so much and I honestly don’t feel like I deserve it all the time and I —”

“Breathe, Buttercup. Hey, let me see that pretty face, okay?” You leaned back a bit and stared up at him, his palms coming up to rest on either side of your face. “It’s fine.”

“But it doesn’t feel fine.”

The sleeves of your thin sweater wiped across your eyes, smudging the mascara on your bottom lashes just the slightest. He brushed at it with his thumb, and you let out a ragged breath, still choked up from your tears.

“I ruined dinner,” you whimpered, a little broken sound that had him tutting and pulling you back into his neck, where you tucked your head away into, his chin resting on the crown of your head.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he promised, feeling his chest ache in your shared sadness. He hated seeing you cry, knew a large factor of it was the countless emotions you felt on any given day as of late, but hated it all the same. “You went out of your way to make dinner for me. And so what if it didn’t turn out as planned? I’ll just order us a pizza, we’ll hang out and just relax. That would make my day.”

“Really?”

“I’m serious. As long as I get to spend time with you, I’m happy,” he admitted softly, hand running soothingly up and down your back. Listened as your breathing evened out, your voice a little less watery now. “Here, stand up for a minute, okay?”

With little reluctance, you allowed him to help you up and off of his lap. As soon as you were up, he joined you in the middle of the kitchen, hand looped right around yours as he reached over to grab the wall phone and called in an order for pizza. Confusion arched your brows, eyes locked on him as he prattled off the usual pizza order and thanked them, hanging up with a loud slam against the receiver.

“They said fifteen minutes,” he told you, waving you over with a hand. Your brows arched higher, so he continued, adding, “I wanna hold you. I hate when you’re sad. Kills me. Come here.”

He thought it was funny. Ironic, the way you’d both worn matching costumes that night. The partner to each respective costume. And funny now, standing here in his kitchen, with you in his arms, swaying back and forth to the music filtering in from the speaker.

He’d touched every inch of you, had mapped every delicate curve and traced them with his lips, had pushed inside you and learned what his name sounded like when rounded with the peak of your pleasure. Even knowing all of that, this felt more intimate. Simply holding you and rocking you back and forth in his home, his arms around your shoulders, his daughter protected between the two of you. A slow dance, completely unhurried. Neither of you had anywhere to go, anyone to see. Simply basking in the closeness of one another, swaying as one song changed into another, and then another.

And when you looked up at him, your face inches from his, your mouth softly parted in a way that had him leaning in a bit, he relished in it. Succumbed to the allure of you, the way you pushed up a bit onto your toes, inching in closer. Just millimeters apart now, aching for the distance to be closed once and for all, only waiting for the other to take the leap.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, watching your eyes sparkle in the yellowy light up above.

A hand drifted up to cup your cheek, and his heart skipped because you leaned into it, tipping your face up to his in a silent offering. The air fizzled with intention. His stomach tumbled in anticipation, falling to the floor as your fingers slid up along his sternum, over his shoulder, toyed with the hairs at the back of his neck, lost within the frizzy curls there.

“Eddie…”

His name was breathy on your lips. He thumbed along your bottom lip and parted it gently, your breath stuttering. Watched the way your eyes zeroed in on that point of contact. He wondered briefly if you could hear his heart slamming away behind his ribcage — the drumbeat of want pounding in his system, present for weeks now.

So he drifted closer. Leaned closer. Felt the frantic whoosh of your breath on his bottom lip, felt the tremble in your form as you stepped in closer, as close as your bodies would allow, hand curling tighter around the back of his neck. Time seemed to pause, the gentle hum of the radio long forgotten, replaced by your shared breathing and the sound of his blood pumping in his veins.

The two of you. Exactly how he’d dreamed of it time and time again, simply waiting for you to dare to take a leap — and then, the wretched doorbell. A loud chime that sounded throughout the home, dissolving the moment instantly. You stepped back, a hand over your chest, and Eddie swiped a hand down his face as he marched down the hall.

Couldn’t help his disgruntled annoyance when the worker read the total for the pizza out loud, the way he swiftly grabbed the pizza in hand and made his way back to you, as though the moment would right itself one more, but as fast as it came it was gone. Replaced by the sight of you pulling out paper plates and plastic cups, your water already settled where you usually sat at the dinner table.

You both ate in silence, neither choosing to broach the topic of what almost occurred in the kitchen. If anything, you proceeded like normal. Joked over pizzas, laughter filling the room, his sides aching when you told him a story about Chrissy and your adventures to the department stores to find a dress suitable for a wedding.

Eventually, you both cleaned up together and headed to the bathroom, changed for bed, both brushing your teeth in the glowing lights of the bathroom mirror. Eddie sighed at the joyful upturn of your lips, found himself drifting closer to your side, if only to be close. Dropped a hand to run over your middle before spitting out his toothpaste and leaning down toward the bump when you said she was being a little extra mobile than usual — likely because she’d heard his voice, whispering ‘goodnight’ to Elena.

Your fingers trailed to the back of his head as he righted himself once more, dark eyes clashing with yours as you muttered, “We should probably get ready for bed. Long day tomorrow.”

“Uh…right.”

Wayne’s home had been fixed. He’d left earlier in the day to head back over, and Eddie watched you pause in the middle of the two rooms, unsure of which way you wanted to go now that you didn’t need to share with him. He wouldn’t force you to stay in his room, but he wouldn’t lie that he hadn’t slept better the past few days knowing you were beside him. Part of him wanted to ask if you felt the same, though judging by the way you slept beside him, he had an idea of what your answer might be.

“Can I…”

“Yes,” he breathed out, trying to fight the smile that crawled across his lips as you hurried on into his bedroom and made yourself comfortable on your side of the bed.

With a sigh, you rolled over onto your side and Eddie slipped in beside you. Your back hit his chest, he flicked off the lamp, and wrapped right around your form. Tried not to think about the almost kiss that happened in his kitchen, the plush of your parted lips, the hitch in your breath. Tried to not imagine what would have happened were it not for the delivery man arriving when they had.

And as you whispered goodnight, your hand running along the back of his, he closed his eyes and dreamed of a beautiful woman in a Princess Buttercup costume. Of margaritas and salty kisses. Of stumbling around in the supermarket, giddy on excitement, a shopping basket between the both of you.

Dreamed of rocking you in the kitchen, holding you close — craving to be closer still.

——

Dustin and Suzie were wedded on a breezy Sunday in March, surrounded by their best friends. The two had been together as teenagers, separated by college for a while, before finding one another again just a little under two years ago now, when they decided they wanted to be together forever.

Steve, recently ordained for the wedding, married them, while Eddie acted as best man for the evening. All in all, the ceremony was beautiful. Lush green covered every inch of the room, the floral arrangements accented with pops of pale pinks.

You sat across from where Eddie stood at the front of the room, seated on Chrissy’s right, with Robin and Vickie to your left, trying to hide the giggly smile that kept creeping onto your lips when he looked your way. He’d been doing so all evening, trying so hard to make you crack — to get you to laugh. And it worked, your sides shaking, mouth hidden behind your hand.

“You two are actually so cute I’m going to scream,” Chrissy whisper-hissed, leaning in close to your ear.

“Good thing you can’t get pregnant twice,” Robin added, snickering to Vickie when your mouth gaped open. “What with the way he’s looking at you.”

“Shh, both of you,” you muttered back, but there was no heat behind it, only giddiness, “Pay attention.”

Dustin and Suzie decided to share their own vows, wherein they may have gone into reciting some lyrics of “The Neverending Story,” though you’d ask Eddie about the importance of that to them later. As they pushed their rings onto the other’s finger, you found your eyes watering, tears clouding over your vision, air choking off in your lungs.

They were so young when they first fell in love. Had lost that love, and then found it again. To have something so lasting — so resilient…it seemed unheard of. And yet, hopeful all the same.

It was then your eyes trailed away from the happy couple, their eyes locked on one another, fingers clasped between them, and shifted to Eddie. He looked your way, curls less endearingly frizzy than you’d ever seen them before, hands laced together in front of himself, a questioning look in his eye. Timid fingers raised just above your lap to wave at him, and as he noticed the gesture, you watched his own fingers unfurl. Watched him wiggle them close to his hips. Hidden from most, and yet everything to you.

Heart soaring, the room melted into cheers as Steve announced the new Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, just as the couple kissed one last time at the altar and began walking down from where they came, the room clapping the whole time.

Eddie was next in line to leave, his arm gripped tight by his partner for the evening, a beautiful curly headed brunette with eyes that reminded you of the ocean. One of Suzie’s family friends.

But even as she practically tugged Eddie down the aisle, he called your name over the crowd. Caught your attention long enough to tell you, “I’ll find you during cocktail hour,” and disappeared from your sight.

“Okay, Melody,” Chrissy exhaled airily, “time to go find Daddy so Mommy can get herself a glass of champagne, and a mocktail for your Auntie.”

Cocktail hour proved to be…frustrating to say the least. Chrissy, Robin, Vickie, and Steve remained at your side throughout, Melody hiked high onto Steve’s hip, as you clutched your virgin drink in hand, watching as Eddie’s curly headed friend gripped his forearm and dragged him over to the bar, intent on keeping him locked in conversation.

“He wants you to go over and say hi, you know?” Steve laughed, trying to pry your fingers free from their vice grip around the glass he must have thought you were seconds from breaking into dozens of pieces. “He’s looking your way. The guy is begging for rescue. Go over there.”

“He’s got the horrified baby doe eyes,” Robin added, giving you a little playful shove.

“Yeah, but I look like this —” You gesticulated around your form, around the emerald green dress that couldn’t really hide the fact you popped the past couple of weeks. “And…and…”

“You are beautiful,” Chrissy reassured you, both hands of hers curling around your shoulders, giving you a little wiggle. “Now go, my cute jealous green monster.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped your pocketbook tighter to your form and slipped through the crowd, bumping against bodies and apologizing every time you did, intent on finding the curly headed metalhead. As you approached, his eyes lit up, the woman beside him turning around a bit to take you in as his arm opened to allow you into his side, immediately tugging you in close.

The woman’s brow arched a bit, and as if to make things even clearer — much to your happy amusement — Eddie cupped a hand over your middle, introducing you to the woman you found to be named Hilary.

“Wow, congratulations you two. A baby,” she said, her plans for the evening quickly deflating at the realization dawning that she wouldn’t be going home with him tonight. “That’s — that’s really wonderful. I wish you both all the luck.”

And then she was gone to find another eligible bachelor, something you most definitely didn’t fault her for. The night you’d met Eddie, you’d been fresh off the end of a two year relationship that left you reluctant to get close to another person for a long time.

The universe just had its own plans, placing Eddie Munson in your pathway. Eddie Munson, who turned you in his arms in a little circle and beamed down at you, eyes roaming over your form. Heat crawled up your spine at the gesture, settling low in your belly.

“You look…” He breathed out, pushing up one of the green straps that had fallen down a bit higher on your shoulder. “You look really beautiful. Did you get a drink yet? Water? Need me to get you anything?”

“I could have water,” you said, allowing him to pull you further away from the crowd, settling near a corner of the room. “Hilary seemed nice.”

“Someone seems jealous,” he teased, hip bumping yours playfully.

The heel of your shoe dug at the ground awkwardly. “Well, I don’t know…she was really pretty and you’re…well, you’re technically single, so if you wanted to…”

“Would you want me to?” he asked, frown settling into place.

“No,” you admitted, a little too quickly. But it was the truth. You hated to think what it would be like if Eddie brought someone home. Didn’t want to dig up what those feelings were all about.

He lifted a hand to cup your cheek, voice a little sad when he asked, “You really don’t get it, do you?”

The question bubbled on your lips. The need for him to clarify what he’d meant, but just as your mouth opened to voice it, people began making their way into the reception hall, once again interrupting a needed moment between you and Eddie. Resigned to the fact a wedding for a friend may not be the best of places to delve further into the intricacies of your changing friendship, you allowed Eddie to lead you into the hall, his fingers immediately plucking both of your name plates from where they were positioned on a large table.

The two of you were fortunately seated with familiar faces. Steve and Chrissy, Robin and Vickie, Max and Lucas, Will and Mike, and El, Nancy and Jonathan were all placed around you. Nancy, who you’d spoken to briefly over the phone, had rushed over and hugged you as if she’d known you for years.

Eddie remained by your side as usual. Grabbed your water when a staff member walked by. And you kept close to him, allowing yourself this night with this man. It wasn’t long before Dustin and Suzie shared their first dance, asking the couples around the room to join them in their sweet moment.

Steve and Chrissy were off to dance together first, their daughter between them, and the sight alone had your chest aching, head looking over to Eddie. Eddie, who watched on with rounded eyes, his chest heaving with his breaths. You imagined he was thinking of Elena, of the moments he’d share with her in only a few months now. Reached over to grip his hand in yours, eyes burning as he laced your fingers with his.

“Do your feet hurt or do you —”

“I don’t dance, but I’ll dance with you, Eddie.”

Together, you settled into a steady flow on the dance floor. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his looped around the smallest point of your waist, one ringed hand pressing into your skin there. Warming you through the fabric of your dress. And you swayed, a slow back and forth, your head tucked against his chest. Over his heart, where you could hear the steady thump within. In a crowded room, you felt at peace here — alone, wrapped up in a stolen moment, with Eddie. Found that you liked it.

“I think…we slip out a little early…make ice cream sundaes and curl up on the couch,” Eddie said against the top of your head, tugging you closer when you giggled at the suggestion. “We can blame it on your feet.”

“Using me as an excuse, Munson?” you teased, his echoing laugh vibrating against your form. “I’d love that. These heels are killing me. What did you mean before? What did you start saying before we got interrupted?”

His fingers trailed a path along your spine. A slow, methodical path that had you sinking further into him. “Not the place for it right now. I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

“Okay,” you said, knowing Eddie always stuck true to his word. “How does it feel seeing one of your kids married?”

“Well, Max and Lucas were first. Was weird, because they’re adults but I’ve known them since they were freshman in high school,” he said, nodding his head to the couple dancing not too far off from where you two were. “I think it’s just like — they’re all growing up and doing things. And for a long time I was just working, going through the motions, trying to make the music thing work.”

“And now the music thing is working,” you told him, knowing he would be leaving for tour when Elena was around six months old.

“Yeah, the music thing did end up working out for me.” He spun you out in a circle, then brought you back in against his chest, smiling against your forehead at your breathy little giggle. “And now I’m going to be a dad, and I don’t want to fuck that up, so my full focus is on that. So it’s…hard to see Dustin getting married, because he’s still that kid that I met so many years ago, but we’re all moving on. It’s different now.”

“I understand that. It’s weird seeing everyone around you moving on,” you said, recalling memories of when Micah approached you a while back about moving in with Jeremiah.

It had hurt at the time, especially after years of being roommates, but they were in a good place and were anticipating marriage further down the line. You should have assumed it was the natural progression of things. Happened to also be right around the time you’d moved in with Paul, realizing soon enough that would be a mistake. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, after all.

“It’s funny how life turns out,” you said, lifting your head to look up at him. “I mean look at the two of us now.”

He huffed out a laugh, nodding. “But I think we’re doing a good job.”

“I think so too,” you told him, leaning your head back against his sternum. “We make a good team and I wouldn’t change any of it.”

Later, after hours of dancing between portions of dinner served and endless chatter with his best friends, Eddie stood beside Robin and Steve and watched as you, Vickie and the rest of the ladies present at the wedding gathered around to try their hand at catching Suzie’s bouquet.

“I hope you know,” Robin laughed, bumping Eddie’s shoulder. “Your girl over there isn’t going down without a fight.”

“Her and Chrissy scare me,” Steve added, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “Elbows will be thrown for that bouquet.”

And maybe it was all superstition. Maybe it didn’t really mean anything, but Eddie’s chest warmed as Suzie tossed the bouquet over her back. There, in a sea of bright color, you came out victorious, beautiful in a flash of emerald green.

——

The drive home was quiet. Eddie with his hand on your thigh, warming your chilled skin when you complained about it being a little cold. Your feet hurt, but in a way that you cherished, because you spent the night dancing with him. Spent it within the circle of his arms, bonded to him now in a way you couldn’t have imagined months ago.

It was funny to think of your conversations that night. The shopping trip. The time shared together. You’d felt so close then, like two people who just happened to get one another, though it paled in comparison to how you felt now. Eddie, who’s head bobbed beside yours to the Metallica song playing through the radio, uncaring of how you perceived him — because he knew you already appreciated every part of him. Even his oddities and intricacies. Had long ago accepted Eddie Munson as Eddie Munson.

And he did the same. Had seen every part of you — from the lowest of lows, to the highest of highs, and loved them all. The range of your emotions, the thoughts swirling in your mind, your hopes, desires, and interests. He never once judged, only tended to the parts of you that you once thought you had to hide from the light.

Maybe that was how these things were intended to be? This burgeoning interest that had been bubbling for weeks now, lingering in the back of your mind, making you wonder if it would be so bad to take a leap. To wholly entrust Eddie with the part of you you’d kept locked away.

The questioning died with your train of thought as the car pulled up in his driveway and he rushed around to open your door for you. With a flourish, he’d helped you down, your heels dangling in his fingertips as the two of you made your way inside, toeing off his own shoes at the door.

Slipping on your slippers you left in the doorway, you meandered down the hall, making your way into the kitchen where you immediately climbed up onto the counter and grinned as Eddie pulled out chocolate syrup, some sprinkles, and the half eaten tub of ice cream you’d both been snacking on throughout the week.

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” Eddie warned, thumb rubbing over your kneecap, where your dress had ridden up just in the slightest. He looked so handsome, button up shirt a little messy now from all the dancing, his tie hanging limply around his neck, suit discarded. “I’d prefer if you use a chair if you’re going to do that.”

“Fine,” you grumbled as he handed you a spoon, pouring the chocolate syrup into the opened tub, along with the rainbow sprinkles. Your spoon clanged with his, ready to simply eat out of the carton until it was finished. “I am so glad we both took off of work tomorrow.”

Granted, it was because of the wedding, but your feet were screaming and the thought of waking up early to head to work after getting home so late had your head reeling.

“Hey, remember when we went food shopping on Halloween?” you asked, brain freezing a bit from your sugary treat, making you wince.

“Can I tell you a secret?” He winced this time.

“Always.” His words he was always saying to you, his form of ‘as you wish’ when you thought about it, and they brought a smile to his face.

“I was so nervous that night, I really just needed to stall. So…food shopping it was.” His cheeks burned bright, your sides shaking with laughter as he swiped a hand down his face in embarrassment. “You’d be surprised to know, but I’m a bit of a nerd. People have never really been lined up to spend time with the town proclaimed ‘Freak.’”

“You’re perfect,” you told him, reaching over to tug on the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him into the space between your thighs. “In case you couldn’t tell, I was very much attracted to you that night. And every night, really. Don’t sell yourself short, Munson. Although, I thought it was really sweet. But you’ve…well, you’ve been that way since that night. And then when we saw each other again at the supermarket...letting me live here, accepting this baby, taking care of me all these weeks…you’ve done so much. Too much, probably.”

“You really don’t get it do you?”

There it was again. That statement. “What do you mean?”

“I wish I could…I don’t know, kick the shit out of Paul and anyone else who made you think that you’re, I don’t know, unlovable or something. Because I like you, Buttercup — I really, really like you.”

“Oh.”

And there it was. The truth. The answer to the questions that had been whirling around in your head for a bit now, validated in his rushed speech, in the way his eyes bore into yours with a need and laced with want that had head swimming low in your belly.

“I care about you.” He glanced down at your belly. “And you. All the things you say that I’m doing that are ‘too much?’ Those are quite literally the bare minimum. Fuck everyone who ever gave less than that.”

“Eddie…”

“But you said you wanted friendship. For Elena. So I’ve respected that,” he said, the redness in his cheeks dissipating, breath slowing from its heated rise and fall. Your fingers pressed along his sternum, felt the warmth of his skin there, the heavy thump of his heart against your skin. “But you deserve good things. It just…you break my heart when you say that shit. Like when you get all surprised if I make dinner or hold the door open for you or something. Because if you could only see from where I’m standing what I think of you — what anyone would think of you, if they’d gotten to know you like I have these past six weeks —”

“Eddie.” He lifted his head, dark eyes staring up into yours, your ice cream starting to melt, his palms on your thighs. “I like you too. But I’m scared. I’m really scared.”

His palms gripped your thighs tighter, rubbed up and down along flesh, warming your skin. “Do you trust me?”

There was no doubt about that. This man, who had taken you shopping before heading back to the hotel to make you both comfortable. This man, the one who had accepted his child as his own within moments of finding out they existed. This man, who had opened his home and heart to you these months.

“Always,” you told him, swallowing the thick knot forming in the back of your throat.

“I want to respect your boundaries. We can pretend this conversation never happened, or…we can figure out what this is. Whatever we want it to be.” He leaned in closer, the curls along his forehead brushing your own forehead. “I want whatever you want. So you can tell me right now to stop, and I’ll stop.”

“And if I don’t want you to stop?”

Your nose ran along his, breathing staccato against his bottom lip, his mouth parted as dark eyes trailed along your face.

His palm came up to cup one side of your face, angling you for him, mouth millimeters from yours. Inside, your stomach was swirling. Twisting and twining around as your heart kicked up behind your ribcage, loud enough you were surprised Eddie couldn’t hear. Your fingers moved to the front of his shirt, tugging him closer to you, your chest brushing along his, his other hand curled around your thigh gripping it tighter.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

And in a rushed breath. “Please.”

It was funny, you thought, comparing this kiss to the last ones you shared. Hurried, back in the hotel room — on a planned mission. You had moments, him leaving for a few days, and you with no intention of ever seeing him again. So it had been a frantic thing. Sliding lips, and bodies, clashing teeth, rapid flurry of hands to try and remove clothing.

This time — this time Eddie moved slowly. Pressed the barest of brushes against your lips, just over the seam of your mouth. Thumbed at your cheek when you sighed into him, parting your lips with the smallest of teasing flicks at your bottom lip. And you opened, a hum rounding your mouth as you felt him there, tasting sweet like the bubbly champagne he’d consumed during the toast, the cake he’d had with dessert.

“Eddie…”

You sighed into him, tugged closer to the edge of the countertop, his hand sliding up your thigh and looping around your back to tether you to him. His lips met yours again and your eyes fluttered shut, the slowest of exhales spilling out between the two of you as you melted for him. Pretty in emerald green, and making those sounds he remembered for so long because they’d plagued him in his dreams for months now.

At your moan, he shifted closer. Dragged his lips from your mouth and trailed them gently along the curve of your jaw. The delicate slope of your neck. Memorized every little whimper and cry from your lips all over again as his fingers brushed along the curve beneath your collarbone, followed them with the path of his lips.

“More, Eddie,” you whimpered, feeling your pulse jump where his tongue laved over it, his nose ghosting along the shell of your ear. “Please.”

“What do you want?” The voice was no more than a whisper against your skin. Fingers reached out to clutch at his shirt, trying to tether yourself to reality. “Need you to tell me what you want, Buttercup. Need your words.”

The ball was in your court. He’d told you so for months now in his own way. Waited for you when he could have walked away like so many others had or would. On one side, remain in the comfortability of friendship. In the dark as to what this could be. On the other hand, take a leap. A risk, a dare. An attempt at shedding light on something buried deep between the two of you, hidden from light, given the chance to flourish and grow into something more.

The answer, you found, was simple.

“You, Eddie. I want you.”

——

thank you for all the love on this series. please please please let me know if you enjoyed. you don’t even know how much it means to your writers. can’t wait to chat with you all. 🩷🩷

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x you smut #eddie x you fluff #eddie x y/n smut #eddie x fem!reader

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guessimabasicnerdgirlnow · 1 year ago

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Read today’s Venom

Breeeeen!!!! 🥹

It seems there is a new writer? I don’t follow news so I don’t know if it’s temporary but it was noticeable, other than the new name. And added to the fact that Dylan looks so different in there too, for a moment I almost felt like I was reading something completely different

But anyway!

There was a clear difference in how Dylan and Bren acted towards each other and how Symby and Toxin acted towards each other and I am living for it! Symby and Toxin even got a short scene just the two of them in the hive!

I like that the hive looks like Symby’s mind, different from the void in Extreme Carnage. Also

Toxin has been alone for so long and never really got along well with anyone. They must be so starved of love and even just company. Their species naturally live in a hive. I’m full of feelings about them

Bren is so nice. I already knew Dylan was a little shit but seeing him beside a genuinely nice kid highlighted this lol (“yes, I will help kill your dad, but can you please please help me save these people I barely know before someone hurts my dad?”)

What do they feed kids these days btw. It’s so funny to see their little heads on these big bodies

Back to Toxin, I thought I was done but I am not. They sound so much like they’re hardened by trauma. My poor baby. Why is the world so bad to them. Someone introduce them to Sleeper, I think they will get along with Sleeper

I am a little confused about what’s going on. Black Widow and Doctor Doom and Alchemax. For some reason this is all more confusing than the time fuckery Eddie has been doing. I know things are being shown slowly on purpose to keep some mystery and stuff but

I think the real question is why I don’t find Eddie’s time fuckery more confusing, actually

“Ah, it’s just a spiral that is crossed by a line seven times, and now there’s a branch” why does this make sense??

Anyway. I don’t have an opinion on the big stuff starting now, I’m just happy to see Toxin and Bren and that they’re still together despite whatever is going on in Misery

#shut up brock

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avocadoguru · 2 years ago

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first and foremost. bravo. you did it again.

how can i say this? you two are making history with this fic. this will be one of the best werewolf au fics to go down in history and i feel like you two should think about making this into something publishable. even if you have to give yn a name and make wolfrry's name something different.

SERIOUSLY

have you considered it?? you should.

because the level of creativity, descriptions, writing skill, everything! i don't know how to leave a review or describe things like you two do but every time i read each chapter i'm on the inside with them - seeing everything, smelling it, hearing it.

the farm with les and harry and eddie and yn eating alma's salad and then his uncle talking to him about yn? okay you guys got me crying there. they have to end up together. they're meant for one another and then they can all live on the farm with his uncle and eddie and live happy ever after. okay? pretty please?? don't hurt me please. well, you can a little. i like a little pain but i won't be able to survive if they can't end up together.

and the smutt? are you fucking kidding? we got not just one scene - but the first scene with her multiple orgasms, comin on his cock so fast and then they fucked again? and then once more at his uncle's because i don't blame them. who could keep their hands to themselves after being wrecked by wolfrry? she couldn't help herself.

ladies... i'm over the moon with that one. over the fucking moon. after that ending too i'm super nervous for the next one but I cannot wait for it.

(@gurugirl here) first, thank you for all your kind words and compliments 🥹 💕 the fact that you feel the way you do about the writing means we're really doing something right. that's what we want, to have something that feels immersive where you can imagine the scene we're writing.

thank you for your thoughts on this chapter and we're so happy you are over the moon with it!

#wolfrry asks #wolfrry feedback

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munsster · 2 years ago

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domestic!steve and his little family

A/N: i can’t get his “six nuggets” speech out of my head

Warnings: drinking, suggestive situations, fluff

part one part two part three part four

you passing out on the couch after putting the kids to bed and trying to get through a movie. he comes home and cuddles behind you and then the terrors wake up and come lay on top of you both then the dog curls up by your feet

just a pile of harringtons <3

SLOW. DANCING. all the time, to everything, holding a baby on his arm, cooking, cleaning, humming the music because there's nothing else playing

everyone getting a cold/the flu at the same time, and you happy to dole out cough medicine and tissue boxes, but he just follows you around and gets to everything before you can strain yourself

him ALWAYS knowing when you're on the verge. whether it's the kids being a little too whiny, or just a rough day, he's there to swoop in when you need even a little assistance

plus maybe finding you curled up in bed after an awful day and just turning off all the lights for you and spooning the rest of the night

accidentally getting super protective of his little family, doing all the 'hard' tasks (changing a light bulb, sweeping/mopping, the laundry, etc) to save everyone else the hassle

just the most lovely helicopter parent

FAMILY GROCERY TRIPS 🥺🥺!!!!! him buying the kids whatever they want and pushing them around in the cart while they swing their little legs. using only one hand so he can hold yours in the other. stopping halfway through every aisle for a kiss. the kids squealing and covering their eyes.

the party is still in college and (mostly) in-state, and your home is like a free for all every time they're in town. which honestly is such a good deal (the babysat become the babysitters, and i stand by that) they love you guys and the kiddos

especially dustin

lemme tell you, he would get so excited about teaching your little harrington fusion babies how to play dnd. um bonus he definitely makes them into little techie babies on accident, and it's gotta be so cute seeing them slowly turn into his mini-mes

him trying to explain all the confusing bits of movies/cartoons to the nonverbal baby who’s just babbling incessantly, and dustin’s determined to get the little ray of sunshine to understand Ducktales

one of the kids LOVES fiddling with dustin’s shiny new gameboy + him calling her dustin jr. for a lonnnng time

dustin being the most involved and present of the party, stopping by as much as possible even when he’s busy, making them snacks and sandwiches and bringing them toys

uncle dusty 🥹

okay now don't get me started on robin

she like definitely hates kids, but uh oh suddenly there's a soft spot for your little ones because they look exactly like her best friends. down to the smiles, the eyes, everything

(her bringing vickie over for double dates, and vickie is good with kids, which really isn't helping robin's soft spot for the rascals. she's a sucker, and we all know it)

YOU HOSTING “FAMILY PARTIES” EVERY YEAR WHERE EVERYONE (wheelers, sinclairs, byers, hendersons, argyle, robin, max, and eddie + wayne sometimes) COME OVER AND HAVE A BBQ AND PLAY GAMES AND DO KARAOKE

bonus: joyce and hopper shredding journey songs APART for the entire neighborhood to hear

also bonus: most of them getting wine drunk and passing out on the living room floor while you and steve lay blankets on top of them. the babes being SO excited to see everyone in the morning (even if all the adults are very hungover)

anyways back on track here: steve learning how to braid.

because your daughter's hair can be pesky some days

okay most days, which makes his new little hobby all the more useful. and he gets INVESTED in all the different hairstyles (french braids, dutch braids, fishtail braids, even the twisty ones?? you name it and steve harrington's wrote the goddamn book on it)

also??? bathtime with the kids would be so precious. them having BASKETS full of bathtoys

even when you're just perched on the toilet seat making sure no one drowns, you end up covered in soapy water. head to toe, it's so unfunny

steve "bubble bath" harrington buying the fancy soap that fills the entire bathroom with foam just cause the babies find it so fucking fascinating

him and the babies sitting on the couch watching cartoons or something when they can't sleep, and they're just mindlessly chattering while steve is treating it like a full on conversation.

"yeah" + "oh yeah, i hadn't thought about it that way" + "wow. no, that's a really good point, bubba" + "i'm sorry, dewey did what?" + "you better not be taking notes, missy”

family picnics, family drive-in movies, family walks in the park, family game night, family apple picking, family beach days, family camping trips (+ steve’s insane bonfire skills), family crafts, family pillow forts, family baking

that’s all

matching clothes 90% of the time (gingham, hats, swimsuits, all of it. getting ready is such a hassle most days because steve is adamant on looking like a big bunch ‘o’ freaks… but it’s pretty cute to see him so excited)

steve is so invested in how much you care for the babes. like his heart is AFLUTTER every time you mindlessly play with their fragile baby hairs and call them sweet names and kiss their little heads

but sometimes, he just wants to unwind

the kids are snoring away after you’ve read them about four picture books (and an encore), and he’s standing in the doorway, ready to catch you in a tight hug when you slump over to him

whispering about how good you are with them, kissing your temples + forehead, taking hot showers together after a particularly tiring day

then laying down wrapped up in each others arms and trying not to doze off (and even though he finds it very cute when you fight your exhaustion, it’s even better when you go pliant and he can just brush your hair from your face and kiss your nose and wish you sweet dreams)

and he’s got insane body heat so you don’t even need the covers on from late spring to late fall

plain old cuddles keep you just as warm

SPORTS DAD ALERT!!!!! crackin a sunday morning beer (idk i dont pay attention to sports) AND TOSSIN A BALL WITH THE BABIES????

oh my goodness im MELTING because they are not good at sports, yk being babies and all, but he’s so encouraging anyway

teaching them to catch and throw and dunk and swim and dive- oH my god, he’s perfect and so so patient and understanding

father of the year truly

annual road trips to maine or oregon or louisiana depending on how crazy he’s feeling, but it’s always a surprise, and he always plans it himself no matter how much you insist on helping

your music taste imprinting on the babies during the hour long car rides (and steve a little tbh)

oh yeah, you don’t have a camper because you told him it might be excessive, but hey, he’s just as content bustling through the states in a beat up old mini van

making a million stops for sight-seeing and snacks

him getting sunburnt all the time and yeah, it brings out his freckles, but you scold him for sure about how reckless it was meanwhile your kids are LATHERED in sunscreen even when they’re inside all day pls 😭

okay…. you don’t do as much together [in bed] anymore because of the kids, but whenever you get the chance, he’s crazy sensitive, even when you just trace his skin or kiss his moles, he’s like arching off the mattress going wild

and he’s not shy about his ‘i love you’s

well, maybe he is, but he’s not shy about showing it

gosh and he always looks so handsome. being a dad really suits him: not always having the time to shave (stubble 🥴), the ever-present proud father/husband smile on his face, THE HIGH WAISTED JEANS

(please tell me why he would get all the babies names tattooed. and yours of course. probably in an arrow heart. god he’s so gross, i want him)

him occasionally whipping out his old letterman and putting it on just to tease you, using his specially reserved ‘king steve’ persona to flirt with you until you give him a kiss and rehide the goddamned jacket

him being OBSESSED with you. all. the. time.

boy is still needy. he is a honeymoon phase man at heart. it’s not a phase.

pulling you in for so many random kisses, always telling you how gorgeous and incredible you look even if you’re sweaty and overheating, taking you on spontaneous stargazing dates, bringing/making you lunch on days he works, holding your hand every second of every day

always always having special dates (birthdays, anniversaries) locked up in his brain vault, making SURE to buy you and the kids the perfect gifts/treat you to dinner

and at one point, the game of remembering becomes a little competition

in the beginning of your marriage, he used to rush to the store to buy you flowers, but after a few years of you beating him to the punch, he gave up and just accepted your bouquets every year, promising to kiss you silly later that day

he truly cannot resist your smile when you hand him that bundle of pretty flowers (the little nuggets love it, too, because it means they each get to pick a personal flower out of the bunch)

steve is genuinely the sweetest and most caring husband and father and i don’t take criticism

he’s wanted it for so long and had so much practice that it comes naturally to him. he never loses his temper, and the kids are just as sweet on him as you are.

masterlist

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x you #x reader #x gn!reader #x gn reader #domestic steve harrington #headcanon #steve harrington headcanon #*#stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things

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mmunson86 · 10 months ago

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Your body aches in places, a lovely kind of ache. An ache from his fingers along your skin, his lips at your mouth, his hips between your thighs.

Holy shiit i am not even kidding y’all it is just the start of this and i am already in love like?!? The details in this paragraph are so well written they blend right into each-other🥹💗

A silly crush that’ll go away. These things always do.

I sure hope so because the feeling i am getting is that no matter what this crush we have on Steve is not replicated & that is what is going to make this silly little crush hurt like a biiitch

Yeah Steve will always love Nancy so it is no surprise that we are back in this cycle of him falling in and out of love with her , doesnt mean it wont hurt but what can we do? If she makes him happy, we are happy for him & her🥲🤍

Eddie behind him, his hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Sorry yall as an Eddie girly i will always fold when this man has his hair up in a pony its Eddie come on i cant help it🫠

“Mr. Pip the Penguin wants you to turn that frown upside down. Because you’re so fucking beautiful when you smile.”

How?! How am i not supposed to fall for you Eddie! He is being such a dork & trying to get us out of this funk, its appreciated😭🫶🏻

“you’re great and deserve the world. Anyone who can’t see that is kind of an idiot. Sorry, Harrington.”

Yeah Steve is long forgotten about , Eddie is just he just always has the right words, plus he is always there for us i cant help but fall head over heels for him🥹

He leaned over you with a laugh to turn Pip the Penguin around, facing the lamp. “Can’t have him seeing this. Feels like someone is watching.”

He is such a dork, i freaking love him so much! & the fact that he is our first makes things feel right i dont know what it is but Eddie makes me feel safe glad he gets to be the one🫶🏻

“Do you always moan Eddie’s name during your workouts?”

During very intense workouts we do Steve! we sure do moan Eddies name💅🏻😅

“You love him,” Steve says, like it’s not even a question. At your arched brows, he repeats, “You love him.”

Yeah you may be right Steve , i think we do love him but its scary , the thought of loosing Eddie terrifies the shit out of us because we have been down this road before

“You just fucked me because you saw Nancy in a wedding dress.”

And we are back to getting our heart ripped out, i know it must have hurt him but fuck Eddie we are here this hurts, it hurts more than Steve if i am being honest😭

You’d rather have all of Eddie instead of this, even if it means losing him for now.

Exactly! We dont want him just for sex we want him to actually want this, & if its going to take time then let it be , if this is truly meant to be he will come back ready to love us fully🤍

Funny how things change at first it was Eddie helping us get over the fact that Steve didnt love us in the way we loved him & now its Steve helping us get through this heartbreak with Eddie

But Eddie is the first person you can say without a doubt in your mind you are in love with.

this! 1000000x yes because he has been there he has brought so much joy to our lives, its been miserable without him, & i am glad he didnt bring a date; Eddie Munson you are our endgame😭🫶🏻

“and some things for my girl. Gotta take care of her, right?”

Calling us HIS GIRL!? I am done for i cant take it any longer Eddieeeeee😩

“I love you,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I love you.” He kisses your other cheek. “I love you.” He kisses your forehead. “I love you,” and finally, your lips.

Fuuuuck i am a freaking emotional mess right now but in a good way, we love you too Eddie Munson🥹🫶🏻

OMG i dont know how you do it every single time but wow! This was so freaking beautiful in every freaking way! This has to be my favorite love story with Eddie & the fact that we became Mr & Mrs. Munson after all of it made my heart swell🫶🏻🥹

falling like the stars, falling in love

eddie Munson x f!reader. unrequited steve harrington x reader. unrequited eddie munson x nancy wheeler. steve harrington x nancy wheeler.

summary: you’re fifteen when you fall in love with your best friend, and twenty-one when it all falls apart. eddie munson is there to pick up the pieces of your heart, and you’re there to gather his. but both of you get more than you ever bargained for when your silly friends with benefits arrangement becomes complicated. but such is the nature of love. (15k words).

warnings: 18+, smut, loss of virginity (r), friends with benefits, codependent (maybe toxic) relationships, angst, unrequited love, heartbreak, second chance romance, drinking, mentions of recreational smoking…but i promise a happy ending.

——

The sun shines the next morning.

There’s comfort in knowing it always does, even if the day that came before was one of the hardest you ever faced.

A new page, a turning point, and maybe a new beginning.

It’s all you hope for.

You lean against the wooden beams of the lake house, overlooking Lover’s Lake. Birds chirp in the trees, leaves shift to and fro, the water ripples and shudders, a child giggles near the dock, a mother calls out to another running in the grass.

A blanket covers your form, the chill of the morning air spreading gooseflesh along your arms.

Your body aches in places, a lovely kind of ache. An ache from his fingers along your skin, his lips at your mouth, his hips between your thighs.

An ache from being loved thoroughly.

A living, breathing, comforting thing.

“Are you okay?”

It’s a soft whisper against your ear. You hum gently as he draws nearer.

His hands circle your waist. Your fingers brush over the backs of his forearms. Familiar.

The heat of his chest rests at your back. Your body slumps into his, a new comfort to be found there.

His chest is still bare, hair still a mess. But when you turn in his arms and take him in you find you like it. Tousled and unkempt by your hands, his eyes peering down at yours soft and sweet and warm.

Uniquely him. You love those eyes. Could spend forever falling into them. A long time, a lifetime, but spending it beside him is the greatest gift you could ever long for.

And the greatest gift you’ve ever received.

The answer isn’t simple.

Then again, none of this has ever been.

——

It starts when you’re fifteen.

Silly teenagers with nothing but dreams and fantasies.

No thoughts or cares in the world, other than what clothes to wear, what part time job you want to work, who you’re interested in and who likes you back.

Silliness.

Triviality that, if you look back on it now, wish you could get back.

Steve Harrington is perfect. He’s your best friend. The first person you met when you moved to Hawkins at nine years of age. He’s charming and on the school baseball and basketball teams.

He’s liked by most, but to him you are special.

Best friends, in the way that always brings a smile to your face because you know it’s the forever kind.

Permanent in the way the scar on your knee is, from the day you and Steve raced across the pool yard after hours, outrunning Hopper, and you’d cut it when hopping the fence in your efforts to get away.

You’re fifteen and Steve’s body is changing a bit. He’s fuller than you remember, honed by hours of working out, of skin tanned from endless hours in the summer sun. He’s always been handsome, but that summer he just seemed different.

You’re fifteen and you’re reading a book, left propped open between the circle of your thighs as he calls your name and you lift yourself up to sit, taking in the boy treading water in the pool.

His hair is a wet mess. Little droplets clinging to the ends of his hair, his long lashes. He’s grinning at you — a pearly white smile that has your heart twirling in your chest.

You shove it away, because it has been doing that for months now. It’s a new side effect with him. A sickness you’ve never felt before. Some might call it love, and you groan, shoving your finger in your mouth when your friends tease you about it because ‘he’s my best friend’ and ‘that’ll never happen.’

But you don’t know what else to call that annoying fluttery feeling in your belly when he draws near. Nor can you stop the pitter patter of your heart when he looks your way.

It’s inconvenient, troubling, and it’s a crush.

A silly crush that’ll go away. These things always do.

Don’t they?

And maybe that’s a foolish thought. You certainly think so when he teases you to come on in. Warns that the water is warm.

You hesitate on the hem of your tee shirt. You don’t know why, because he’s seen you in bathing suits before, but lately even this feels different. You want him to look at you the way he looks at the girls at school, and yet you also don’t want him to look at all, because if he looks he might see all your imperfections. Might see something he doesn’t like, and for some reason you hate that even more.

Because you want him to like you, to like all of you, to want you in the way you know you want him.

You’re fifteen and you’re swimming in a pool with your best friend. Your boy who also happens to be your friend. Never a boyfriend.

Never that.

You’re fifteen and you splutter out how you turned down a date with Brendan Abbott because, “I’ve never been kissed.”

“Really?” Steve asks, and he sounds genuinely surprised. And before you can even question the curiosity in his voice, he adds, “I just mean…you’re pretty. I bet loads of guys want to kiss you.”

Not the one that matters, though, you think to yourself.

Steve’s kissed dozens of girls, you know. You know because he’s told you, his cheeks staining a pretty pink. He always goes pink like that, and you always smile back, despite that odd pain that wedges its way between your ribs.

Heartache you think, but again, you’ll never put a name to it.

“I could kiss you, you know?” he suggests. And he’s red again in the face, quickly spluttering, “I mean, your first kiss should be with someone special, right?”

Steve’s the most special.

So you’re fifteen and he’s wading over to you in the pool. He cups your cheek and looks you in the eye. There’s a heartbeat and he’s kissing you. Soft, sweet, simple. It doesn’t linger long. Doesn’t give you enough time to feel like fireworks are exploding in the sky. But it’s enough to set something into motion.

Something terrible, really.

Because you’re fifteen and you’re in love — and maybe you’ll always be.

——

You’re nineteen when you meet Eddie.

A glass bottle to the man you love’s throat. He’s there in an instant, terror in his eyes, and you shriek at the suddenness of it. His eyes flash and you recognize him.

You had…a class before with him.

Can’t recall which.

You know him, of course.

Everyone knows Eddie Munson. Maybe not for all good reasons — and at this moment, it’s the worst reason. Because you’ve been looking for him for hours, trying to figure out what in the hell happened to Chrissy.

He looks like a deer in headlights. A terrified human searching for comfort when the world has grown cold.

He recalls what he saw.

Her body, broken. The way she hovered up on the ceiling. The way her eyes were ripped from her body. It’s gruesome and horrible and you curl a hand around his forearm when you notice he’s trembling. A shiver that only someone who has seen death head on knows. You’d seen it before, when Billy died the summer before that.

So you offer him that. A hand for comfort, as he recounts the worst day of his life, and you realize the newest worst day of yours.

It ends up being a long few days. You spend them hoping you’ll all get out alive, and in the process you find a friend in him. He’s charismatic and frenetic, he’s funny and he’s dramatic and he’s handsome in a rugged way that Steve isn’t.

And he notices the way you stare at Steve. Offers you a hand of comfort as you all trek into the Upside Down. You take it, and it feels like a new friendship.

Neither of you speaks, but it feels like an understanding.

——

At twenty, Steve’s halfway in love with Nancy all over again. You’re used to this. Steve has fallen in love with what feels like all of Hawkins — all except you. Neither of you speaks about that. You’ll never bring it up to him, can’t fathom the idea of shattering years of friendship.

But there’s something different about this time. The way he talks about her and how things are going. He’s dreaming of his future. Talking about kids. His Winnebago. About a future that suddenly seems like it’s hurtling towards you, while you’re seemingly stuck in place in the past.

It chokes you. The idea of him and her. Her and him and their six children he tells you about. Traveling all around the world, making memories, starting a new life.

He never talks like this and it terrifies you.

“I’m sure he’s just being his usual self,” Robin says, “diving in and hoping he doesn’t sink. You know how things were with him and Nancy before.”

“This feels different, Rob.” You huff and you whine and she offers you another beer and a look of sympathy you know means she’s really just doing her best.

There are few people in this world who know how deep your feelings run for your best friend. Those quite literally being her and Eddie Munson. And you plan on keeping it that way until the day you die.

Even so, it still hurts the next weekend when you’re all over Eddie’s new government funded apartment for a game night. Nancy gets up to leave and Steve offers to drive her home. And though you offer to clean the dishes for Eddie in the kitchen, it’s not an innocent offer by any means, because you watch them through the curtains.

Don’t know why you do. It stings. Burns in your eyes fiercely as you watch him lean down to kiss her. Watch how his hand slides down her back and into the pocket of her jeans, the way their bodies fit together like they’re made to, how he holds her close like she’s everything to him. Just like he’s everything to you.

“You’re only screwing over yourself by doing that,” Eddie murmurs from behind you, a dish towel hanging over his shoulder. He holds out a hand as you swipe at the tears gathering on your cheeks, and you hand him a plate to dry down.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huff, sponge running over the glass. “Plus you’re one to talk.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He shakes his head with a scoff, moving around you to put a plate away.

“I don’t?” you ask, eyes narrowing.

“No.”

There’s a day you remember vividly. All of you at Lover’s Lake. You, freshly out of the water after Steve tackled you off the dock at the end of your family’s lake home and the two of you ended up splashing at one another for an hour.

He sat by Nancy around the fire after and you opened the screen door to find Eddie leaning over the back porch railing with a beer in his hand. He watched her like one would watch a movie. Her every move, each smile that curled her lips, holding onto her every word like he might memorize them all. The lilt, the cadence, the tone.

In a moment, you recalled all the times you’d seen them together prior. His best friend, he proclaimed. And maybe it was in the way Steve was your best friend. The other half of your soul. Your person. But you also saw the hurt reflected there in Eddie’s gaze whenever she stared at Steve.

Because while Eddie always stared at Nancy, Nancy always stared at Steve.

“It sucks when you’re always looking at them, but they never look at you back,” you laugh miserably, handing him a glass cup, back in his kitchen, “right?”

He looks away.

He doesn’t speak after that.

Good, you think.

Conversation over.

——

It carries on like that.

Pining.

Wanting.

Waiting.

Loving him while you watch him love another.

But you suppose it’s not all bad — that there is some solace in this world you’re destined to walk.

There’s comfort in the kids. In watching them flourish. In your friendships. There are milestones. When you graduate from your community college program and move into your first apartment. Steve, with a ball cap on his head, arms toned as they hug your boxes. Eddie behind him, his hair pulled back into a ponytail.

They’ve grown closer over time, best of friends who scare similar scars. Kindred, in a sick sort of way they never should have been, simply because sometimes the world is cruel.

Eddie looks at you and you look at him and there’s a smolder of something between you, a promise for when everyone else heads home for the night.

That’s a newer development, too.

This…pseudo relationship with Eddie. A space between being together and not. In knowing each other’s bodies in a way that most friends don’t.

And maybe it’s wrong. The way you twine together some nights like vines. Him stumbling through the door after the sun goes down over Hawkins — because no one knows about this secret dalliance — and rushing across your living room to grasp your face in his hands. To kiss you soundly and drag you down onto the floor, ridding you of your clothes, your underwear, his mouth seeking your center like he’s starving for air.

You’re not really sure when it starts.

Sure, there’s always been an attraction there, but it’s always been something you don’t really dwell on, because Steve is the true paramour of your affection.

And you see the way Eddie watches Nancy.

Right?

But Eddie is kind and loving and he adores you in a way that feels sort of like running toward a cliff and jumping without a parachute.

You always know he’ll catch you. Don’t really know when he became that person for you. The one who you trust wholly and completely.

Yet if you think really hard about it, you’d say it started on your twenty-first birthday. After a strong drink and plenty of dancing at the bar. Steve grabbed your hand and twirled you around. Swayed and bobbed to the music and you grabbed his hand and tugged him outside. And maybe it was the little bit of alcohol you consumed and liquid courage granted by it, but you pushed him up against the side of a lamppost and kissed him.

When you think about it now, you want to cry, but in the moment it felt right.

He spluttered and gasped and you knew you’d made a mistake. Watched the way sadness creeped into his eyes, the awareness dawning on him.

Someone barked out a laugh, yourself maybe. Him. You weren’t sure. But it sounded disbelieving. Years and years of unspoken words spilled out like ink onto a blank sheet of paper. Left there to rot. And he stared — stared at you with a hurt in his eyes that ripped you down the middle. Because you knew he couldn’t return it, knew in an instant that he didn’t love you in the way that you wanted him to.

Not in the way that he loved Nancy.

Nancy. Perfect Nancy with the perfect hair and the perfect mind and the perfect life. Nancy, who was beautiful and stunning and wonderful and inspiring — and why wouldn’t someone love her? She was your friend, a good one at that, and a girl that any guy would want to be with.

Nancy, who you knew was the one meant for Steve, even if admitting that to yourself felt like a knife wedging its way into your gut.

“Honey…” he trailed and his voice broke. An aching, shattering thing that mimicked what was going on inside your chest.

Tiny, little shards. Little ruby glitter in the cavity that once housed a beating organ.

“It’s silly, right?” You laughed again. A hollow sound. A grieved cry that had Steve reaching for your forearm, trying to hold you together. “I've loved you since I was fifteen.”

“You’re drunk…”

“I’m not,” you argued. If anything, you felt stone cold sober now.

It didn’t change anything. Didn’t make it any less true. Maybe it was how Steve coped with it. Blaming it on too many drinks, emotions running high, your lives changing at a rate neither of you saw coming.

“Is everything okay out here?” Eddie stood on the sidewalk, watching from a distance, ready to step in if he needed to.

He did that often. Sought you out. Made sure you were okay. Watched your back as you watched his. There was always an awareness there that both of you held toward one another. An unspoken thing. Special still.

“Just…a moment?” Steve asked, and Eddie looked your way. Waited until you nodded it was, in fact, okay before he slipped back inside the bar and left you alone with your heartbreak. “You’re my best friend. I love you, but I —”

“Don’t love me, love me,” you finished for him.

Felt your lip wobbling, felt Steve’s arms as they wrapped around you, tugged you into a solid chest. You heaved out a loud sob, the kind that had him clutching you tighter, one hand at the back of your head to keep your forehead pressed into the hollow of his throat. Kept you hidden as you weeped, just like he knew you preferred it.

Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Kind of left it like there, open in the air, the understanding that you loved him and he didn’t love you, and it hurt every time you thought about it — every time you reminded yourself that you’d worn your heart on your sleeve and watched it fall to the ground.

Everyone left in separate cars. Robin with her girlfriend, Steve with Nancy, Jonathan with Argyle, leaving you to clamber on into Eddie’s car. Both of you had sobered up enough, dawning clarity breaking like the sunrise.

Eddie turned to you when you pulled up to your parent’s house. Looked at you with a sympathy that made you draw the hoodie you pulled on over your dress closer to your body, wanting to shrink away from him. Make yourself smaller, if only to hide from the emotions warring in your mind.

“Did something happen tonight?” He asked, his voice soft.

You tugged at a stray lint on your thigh, rolled it between your fingers, shrugged a bit. “I kissed Steve.”

“Shit,” he breathed out, unbuckling his seatbelt. Leaned back into his seat, finger running through his hair.

“And then I told him I loved him,” you added, head shaking as you laughed pitifully.

His head shifted on the headrest, eyes taking in your downturned lips. “I take it that didn’t go well?”

Another huff of a laugh. “He said ‘I love you, but…’”

“Fuck,” he said, hand reaching over the center console to rest on your thigh. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

He always called you sweetheart. You noticed he called things he held dear to his heart that. His guitar, Max, El, Erica. Nancy. Robin. And most recently, you. So it shouldn’t have warmed your heart, but it did. Twisted something low in your belly, a warm, unfurling sort of thing.

The next words spilled out of you in a rush. Set into motion the course of the next several years. “Do you want to come upstairs? You’ll have to be quiet. I just…don’t want to be alone.”

“I—I…yeah?”

The offer was to talk. To find comfort in another human. Because you hadn’t even thought about sex. Hadn’t had sex in your twenty-one years. Not because you were holding onto your virginity or anything, but because you just hadn’t felt comfortable enough yet to do so. And it wasn’t like you invited him up there for that. It started out innocently enough. Him following closely behind you through your home, slipping up your stairs, fingers laced together. An anticipation hummed in your blood, a tremble of uncertainty in the way he stood there in your bedroom, not moving from the door once you closed it behind the two of you. He seemed so large in your childhood bedroom. Hair a mess on his head, in the way it always was, charmingly so. His hands slipped into his tight jeans, the gesture making his black tee stretch taut over his chest.

A dress still clung to your body after you removed your jacket. Something flowing and pretty that you picked out with Robin the week before. It suddenly felt sticky and tight on your body, and with a nervous glance, Eddie caught your hint and turned around to face the door. Tapped his fingers against his thigh as you undressed and slipped on something more comfortable. A simple pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee shirt.

“You can sit on my bed, you know?” You had sat back down against the headboard, the wood littered with endless pillows and a stuffed penguin that Steve had gotten you at a fair one summer.

In a fearful effort to rid yourself of the evidence of your stuffed friend, you lifted it in your hand and raised an arm to toss it into your closet when Eddie launched himself down onto your mattress with a thump and snatched it out of your grip.

“I don’t sleep with that, or anything…” Heat flooded your cheeks, because why did you care if he knew you actually did sleep with the silly thing, if only to keep the nightmares from the Upside Down away?

“It’s cute,” he murmured to himself, ringed fingers tight around the black and white toy. Sounded genuine and you didn’t doubt him; never did, truly. “Got a name for it?”

“Pip the Penguin,” you said quietly, so quietly.

“I like it…” Suddenly, he changed his voice, warping it into something an octave higher than his usual tone. Bopped the fluffy creature against your forehead, making you laugh. Pretended to talk with the thing and said, “Mr. Pip the Penguin wants you to turn that frown upside down. Because you’re so fucking beautiful when you smile.”

“Pip the Penguin doesn’t curse,” you admonished, plucking him from Eddie’s hands and placing him onto your bedside table. And then, softer still, “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Always,” he promised, and you rolled over onto your side to look at him, to really take in your best friend’s features. “I’m sorry your birthday is shot to hell.”

“It’s not,” you admitted, reaching over to run your fingers along the rings flush against his knuckles, “I’m spending it with you.”

“For what it’s worth,” he said, holding your hand in his and pausing your movements, thumb running across your skin, “you’re great and deserve the world. Anyone who can’t see that is kind of an idiot. Sorry, Harrington.”

You level him with a ‘you’re kidding me’ look.

“I’m serious,” he added, smiling a bit. “I mean, you play guitar like a beast. I don't know many girls who do that. Definitely metal. You’re fun to be around, really cool, definitely would smoke with.”

You had. Numerous times. “Eddie.”

“Maybe a little bit of a shit driver —”

“Eddie!” You shrieked a giggle, clutching his hand tighter.

“I said 'a little bit’” he teased, pushing back a hair that fell into your eyes. “Did you forget that time I had to try and shove your car out of the mud?”

“Yeah, but it was you who told me to turn onto that side road in that rain storm.”

“It was still a fun day, though.”

You sat in your car for hours, rain splattering against the window, waiting for a tow truck. The boy beside you, hair wet from the rain, his shirt clinging to his body. His chest rising and falling with the effort, the cloudy sky and the way he reminded you of sunshine even still. Remembered the way he looked at you, all soft around the edges, that little dimple in his cheek. So handsome it had made your chest ache with it — kind of like how it was then.

“It was,” you agreed softly.

Neither of you slept that night in your bedroom. Instead you talked until the sun started to rise over Hawkins, a quiet something glimmering in the spaces between the two of you. It didn’t have a name yet, no wings to give it flight, but there was something new there nonetheless. You talked about everything and nothing. Dreams, wants, fears. Silly thoughts that sprang to life in your mind, and he was a perfect listener — nodded and laughed and was wholly engaged in you, and you in him.

And you don’t think about Steve once, the ache of rejection dulling to a sweet nothingness.

“Wanna watch a movie?” It was asked after some time, when the nervousness of where you wanted the rest of your morning to go creeped in after your parents called upstairs that they were headed off to work, leaving you alone with the boy they didn’t know was in your bed.

He held you like that. On your bed, arms around your waist from behind as colors flashed across the television screen. Both of you were quiet for a long time. No words said, nothing to say really, until you rolled back over and looked up into his umber eyes. Wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You didn’t have to wonder for long, though; he leaned in, nudged his nose against yours, cupped your cheek. Asked you if ‘this was okay.’ A nod, and you sank into the mattress at that first brush of his mouth over yours, at the way your heart fluttered, something sparkly and beautiful flashing behind your eyes. He held you like that, kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck. Fingers tentatively explored as you sighed and hummed against him, over the slope of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, the line of your collarbone. And then, with a gentle touch, he brushed a thumb along your ribcage, beneath a breast.

Testing, asking for permission.

“I didn’t come up here to hook up,” he said, but it was muffled by your lips against his, an eagerness drowning out his words.

“I know.”

“I…do really think you’re beautiful.” You tugged at the hem of his shirt, helped him pull it up and over his head. Ran your fingers along the scars there. “Fuck, I — you’re my best friend and I —”

“I want this,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss a line across his pecs. “Do you want this?”

Could feel that he did. Could feel it against your thigh, the thick heat of him through denim, straining against his belt and zipper. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” A kiss. “Yes, Eddie.” Another kiss.

He tugged off your top. You slipped off your sweats. He ran calloused fingers along your abdomen, over the slope of your breasts, teased at sensitive flesh. Watched as your head rolled to the side and a sigh spilled from you, feelings you’d never felt settling low in your belly. You liked it, liked the intensity in how he looked at you when he lowered himself down your abdomen, kissing your skin. Liked the desire aimed wholly at you in his eyes as he eased your thong down your thighs and tossed them toward your closet. Felt a thrill at the stare locked on the place only your fingers had ever ventured before this night, like he’d discovered hidden treasure.

“Eddie?” A nervous whispered breath.

He climbed back up your body hastily, thumbed at the worry line creasing your forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I’ve never…you’re my…” You swallowed as something like understanding passed over his features.

His forehead dropped against yours, deep breaths spilling from his nose, hand holding the curve of your cheek. “Are you sure? I want you to be one thousand percent sure. Your first time…it should —”

Your hand slid up over his stomach, over the rapid thrum of his heart. “Yes, Eddie. One hundred thousand percent sure.”

He leaned over you with a laugh to turn Pip the Penguin around, facing the lamp. “Can’t have him seeing this. Feels like someone is watching.”

And you laughed, just like you always did with him. Just as you did when he slipped out of his boxers and nearly tripped getting out of them, tumbling forward onto your bed, just as you did when he crawled back up your body and blew a raspberry into your neck to ease the worried lines between your brow when you finally saw him bare for the first time. Something so foreign and yet exhilarating to you. Watching his nervous hands, the way he hovered over your body, the gravity of the moment finally hitting you. He readied you with gentle fingers, with a sort of pleasure that you’d only previously known by your own hand, and yet felt so differently when it was someone else’s inside of you.

Later, as you gasped and shook within his arms in the aftershocks of your orgasm, you watched him roll on a condom with blissful, hazy eyes. Clasped your hand in his as he pressed it down into your pillow, not without kissing the back of it first.

“Tell me to stop if it’s too much, okay?” he asked, and you felt him there, pushing in just the slightest bit, face pinched in concentration.

Eyes widened at the feeling, so foreign and yet not wholly unpleasant.

Just…different.

“Is this okay?” He pulled out a little, pushed in. Pulled out, pushed in a little further each time.

And then, when he reached the point where it seemed your body wouldn’t allow him to go any further, you gasped and Eddie’s hips stilled immediately.

“Shit,” he breathed, dropping onto his elbows, searching your face worriedly, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shook your head. “No, no…you can keep going. Just go s-slow.”

His fingers rubbed along your cheek. “Gotta relax, sweetheart.” You tried to do exactly that. Smiled to yourself as he distracted you with kisses along your jaw, fingers gripping into your hips, little circles along your thigh curled around his hip.

“Can you just, like…” You chewed on your bottom lip, the burning growing sharper with each slow movement of him within you. “Push all the way in.”

“It’ll hurt,” he said, wincing at the thought of hurting you.

“Only for a second. Please,” you leaned up to kiss him soundly, nuzzling his nose as you added, “I want to feel all of you, Eddie.”

As he warned…it hurt, a fullness you’d never felt before. Stole your breath. He wiped your tears away, whispering ‘sorry’ after sorry into your kiss-bitten lips. There was a brief moment where you jokingly teased that you worried if he’d actually fit, even voiced it to him as he shook with laughter into your neck at what he took as a compliment. Because laughter seemed to be a theme between the two of you. You giggled with him, breath hitching when your muscles loosened and he sank in all the way, your body connected with his in an unfamiliar and yet wonderful all at the same time.

That first time was awkward, giggly, and yet perfect all the same. Your bodies coming together in an unhurried rhythm that maybe ended too soon because he spluttered out that you felt too good — a pretty praise that had you preening, and then pleading when he rolled his hips in a way that had you seeing stars, cresting a wave, the crash of your second orgasm stealing your breath away.

Now, it’s a little different.

In your apartment, your back against your new kitchen cabinets, your boy expertly licking at you like he might die if he doesn’t watch you crumble for the third time that afternoon.

First, when Steve and Robin finally left for the afternoon and he had you up against the door, your cheek against the frame, his name a mantra on your lips, his forehead at the back of your head as he filled you deliciously from behind. The second time, you barely made it onto your new bed — frame still on backorder — before he had you on your back, with you scoring marks down his shoulders. Knowing how to draw out your pleasure, to ramp it up – knowing your body in a way no one else ever has.

So different from the people you were a year ago, and yet still trying to pretend that the ties between you don’t grow more confusing with each and every passing day.

——

You’re twenty two and Steve has some news for you. And it’s never the kind of news one wants to hear from the man they’ve been in love with for nearly ten years.

“I’m going to ask Nance to marry me.”

“That’s great!” You blurt it out. You don’t even know why, because it’s a lie, just like the countless other things you have said to save face in front of him. “Really — Steve, that’s incredible! I’m so happy for you. How do you think you’ll go about asking her?”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Turns out, it’s happening at Enzo’s the next week. Surrounded by all your best friends. Eddie sits at your right, watching as Steve gets down on one knee. As Nancy cries softly and accepts — as Steve slides a ring up onto her knuckle, thumb brushing against the back of her sparkling solitaire diamond.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt quite like you thought it might. There’s an ache, sure. A feeling of loss that you always feel when it comes to Steve. Though when you turn your head and look at Eddie, and he squeezes your hand in his, there’s peace there.

That’s a newer development. Just as him staying over for days on end is, leaving things of his in your drawers, using your shower. You’re best friends who sleep together and spend all their extra time together, and yet there’s this limbo of where you are and if this is ever going anywhere that neither of you seems keen on opening up to talk about.

Steve finds you later that night, standing outside overlooking the restaurant’s garden. A freshly filled champagne flute rests in your hand. Eddie is inside with Robin, Nancy and the rest of your friends, laughing at the bar where you left them. But out here the world seems quieter. The stars twinkle brighter. Hawkins seems to rest, even though there’s a disquiet in your mind.

“That was a beautiful proposal,” you tell him, turning to rest your back against the railing. He joins you there, elbow leaning onto the metal, his own glass filled with an amber liquid shifting as he moves to get comfortable. “Really. I’m so proud of you guys. You deserve all the happiness in the world after all the hell we’ve been through as a group.”

“You’re in the wedding party, you know?” he chuckles, and you never doubted it. “You and Robin kind of both have to share the title of ‘best man.’”

“As long as we have matching outfits, I’m in,” you giggle airily, head tilting back to look up at the sky.

“You’re in your head a bit,” Steve says, like he knows, because he does.

He knows everything about you.

Except for one thing.

“I’m okay,” you lie, taking a sip of your drink, “just been a long night. We’re getting older, you know? I can’t party like we used to.”

He narrows his eyes, because you’re twenty two and full of shit.

“So it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact you and Eddie are seeing each other?”

“We’re not.”

Not a lie. ‘Seeing’ would imply that your relationship is going somewhere. What you and Eddie have been doing…what you are doing…it has no beginning and no end, but there’s an awareness that at any point either of you might meet someone else and move on.

Lately that thought hurts. Not sure what to do with that.

“Okay…having sex then.”

“Why do you have to say it like that?” You grimace. “It’s weird coming from you.”

“Oh, like we haven't discussed my sex life in thorough detail –”

“Yeah, and I can tell you, as someone who has lived through it, that wasn’t fun either.”

He continues, ignoring you, “Gotta say, kind of feels shitty that you didn’t tell me about it.”

“There’s nothing to ‘tell,’” you say, shifting to look at him. “We hooked up…and then kept hooking up. We hook up, it’s what we do. It’s all we do, actually. I mean, not all we do. We have to breathe and eat sometimes, and we are also friends –”

“Friends who f –”

“Steve Harrington, enough out of you, you child.” There’s a bite to your tone, but no bark. He smirks at you, a cheeky, proud-looking thing that would have made you mourn years ago, but makes you feel a little smug now. Maybe time truly does heal wounds. “How do you even know?”

“When Nancy and I were over at your place last weekend, we realized I forgot my jacket and I, uh, heard you guys.”

Horror seeps into your blood. You wish the ground would open up right now. Swallow you whole. Wish a black hole would suck you up, never to be seen again. “I could have been doing a workout video.”

He grins, and you contemplate shoving him over the railing, but Hopper’s inside and you don’t really feel like facing jail time for murdering your best friend on what should be the happiest day of his life. “Do you always moan Eddie’s name during your workouts?”

Cheeks burning, you splutter, “Maybe I do.”

“So how long has this been going on?” Steve asks, choosing to once again ignore your attempts at redirecting the conversation.

“My twenty-first birthday. We went back to my place,” you tell him, quickly amending, “technically it was the next day. We…talked the whole night. It felt right.”

It was the perfect first time, you decided long ago now. And then that second time, after you’d both passed out, and you climbed on top of him, asking him to show you what he liked, before you ended up skipping your college classes in favor of spending the whole day exploring each other’s bodies.

“That was a…shit day,” he says, and it sounds sad. You never talk about that day. After you told him you loved him, it was almost like both of you had an unspoken agreement in place to just never breathe life into it again. Hearing him acknowledge it now…you don’t really know how you feel about it. “I’m sorry for that, again. I just –”

“It’s in the past,” you reassure him, offering a smile. “We can’t help who we fall in love with.” You know that now.

“So he met Pip the Penguin?”

You shove him. “Yes, he did. And we’ve sort of been – doing this ever since.”

“You love him,” Steve says, like it’s not even a question. At your arched brows, he repeats, “You love him.”

It’s a silly notion, you want to tell him earnestly. Though the more you think on it, the more you can see his words have some merit. For years Steve’s been the object of your affection, and suddenly his relationship with Nancy hurts less, you can be around him without feeling like there’s a raw, bleeding wound in your chest. You always accredited it to getting used to knowing this isn’t something that’s going to change. Yet as you picture Eddie's face in your mind, a coy smile tugs at your lips.

Steve grins. “See?”

“How do you know?” Disbelief imbues your words. It can’t be this simple, can it? To simplify the feelings with the word ‘love.’ An emotion that seems so big and so scary.

“I know what you look like when you’re in love,” he says, mouth tugging southward a bit over how he knows. He makes his way over to the door leading inside, needing to get back to his party. His eyes are soft. “It doesn’t take a scientist to define the way you look at him.”

He leaves you with your thoughts.

You nearly crumble with the weight of them.

——

Eddie’s not himself. You spend the day with Steve and Nancy, working on wedding planning. At one point, the guys end up stumbling into the bridal boutique where Nancy’s standing on a pedestal in a beautiful gown, her veil a billowing sprawl of lace behind her. She’s gorgeous, not that you ever doubted she would make a beautiful bride.

Later that night, Eddie fucks you like he’s trying to forget. Fingers curled tight around your wrists, no words of affection pouring from him, not like they usually do. He’s quiet and when he spills into you, you roll over onto your side and cry.

He tries to console you. A hand splays over your bicep, his mouth at your shoulder. He hadn’t even bothered to undress you tenderly like he usually does. It had been frantic and hurried and it feels like you’re an exposed nerve now, the pain throbbing in your chest.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s another new thing. A nickname for when you’re alone. A term of endearment you wish he would just take back now.

“I feel like you weren’t even here just now. Toward the end,” you whimper, rolling over, lip wobbling.

“No no no,” he coos, kissing along your brow, trying to soak up the blood seeping from your invisible wounds, “hey — hey, baby, I —”

“You were trying to forget.” You tug your blankets up around your shoulders, covering yourself.

“It was a hard day —”

“But I’m right here!” you cry out, launching yourself out of the bed, eyes burning as you whirl on him. “I’m right here. I’ve been here. We’re…this isn’t right, Eddie. It hasn’t been for a long time. Can’t you see that? You just fucked me because you saw Nancy in a wedding dress.”

“That’s not —”

“I think we need to stop this.” His mouth settles into a firm line, eyes rounding as the words slam down on him like a ton of bricks. “Put a pin in it. Call it. Give it a time of death. I just can’t do this anymore. It’s changed for me. It’s not ‘just sex’ anymore.”

“It’s never been ‘just sex’ with us,” he argues.

Eddie climbs out of bed. Tugs on his boxers, tries to console you with soothing hands on your arms. Resolute in your decision, you take a step back, head shaking a bit.

“I’m…” A pause.

After your conversation with Steve some months ago now, you really took the time to think about his words. The realization you’ve fallen in love with Eddie slowly over time. The man who weaved his way into your life so seamlessly on a day you needed him the most.

Eddie, who snores beside you in bed most nights and wakes you with endless kisses along your cheeks, because he wants you to smile first thing every morning. Eddie, who always forgets to separate his lights from his darks every time he does his laundry, so you started doing yours together. Eddie, who you spend every Friday night on your couch with, a pizza and a joint between you, punctuated by soft kisses and endless cuddling as you watch your favorite movies together. He’s become a staple in everyday life; a constant, a rock, an anchor.

You can’t quite pinpoint when it happened. When friendship changed into something more, but it had, and you couldn’t stop the free fall once you were on the edge of the cliff.

This love is also painful too. It’s knowing for a long time the two of you used sex as a way to run from your problems. Had relied on one another to find solace. It’s realizing that, though you want nothing more than to curl your arms around his waist and hold him for the rest of the night, that’s actually the last thing either of you need right now.

“I think you should stay at your apartment tonight,” you tell him, your voice a little hollow. Cold. Eyes downcast. “I think we need some time to cool off, and I think we need to do it separately.”

Eddie swallows thickly. His voice breaks as he chokes out, “Yeah…okay.”

“I love you,” you tell him, stare him straight in the eye as you do so. His breath shudders out of him. “And I think you love me too, but I don’t want you to say it back. I want you to say it when you can fully mean it. But I can’t do this…half version of love I’m getting now. I want the full thing, we both deserve the full thing.”

He tips your chin up. Kisses you. The first tears spill from your eyes, and when you open your eyes, there are tears in his eyes too.

“Fuck,” he rasps, folding his arms around your waist, holding you close as you both break.

Never really together, and yet it’s the worst break up. It cleaves you right down the middle. Leaves you in two pieces, where one belongs to Eddie and you don’t know that you’ll ever get it back. The man wound so deeply in your veins now he’ll likely remain there forever.

You want him to be — just not now.

Not in this capacity, not like this.

You want that earth shattering, ground shaking, immeasurable kind of love. The kind that extends beyond stars and space. Love that transcends time and follows you even in death at the end of it all.

You’d rather have all of Eddie instead of this, even if it means losing him for now.

There’s that saying, albeit cliche, that if something is meant for you, you need to let it go. If it comes back, it was always yours.

In actuality it’s scary — letting him go.

But you trust it’s the right thing. Trust that it’s the best thing for the health of what’s already here, even when every atom and cell in your body wants to fight against what it innately knows is best for it.

Eddie opens his mouth to speak. Thinks better of the words he’s going to say. Instead kisses you on the forehead three times.

I. Love. You.

“I’ll —” He stumbles over the words. Know that he means to say ‘I’ll see you soon,’ but neither of you knows if that’s true.

Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes you simply need to lean up on your toes and kiss him for what might very well be the last time. Tears spill down your cheeks and his. Little fractures. Glittering reminders of beautiful memories made in the time spent together.

He packs a bag and hikes his things over his shoulder. Exits the door you’ve watched him walk in so many times that the thought of never seeing him pass through again makes you want to shatter all over again.

And when he blows you a final kiss on the way out, you do.

——

“So you…ended things?”

Steve tries to understand, your head in his lap, heart in your throat as you bleed love all over your living room floor. It hasn’t stopped since Eddie left. Since you picked up the phone and dialed a number you’d never forget and sobbed out a broken, “Steve.”

There are no words needed to be said. In the background you hear the rustle of keys, and then he’s at your doorstep fifteen minutes later, ready with his arms open for you to fall into. And now you’re here.

He lets you cry. He lets you sob against the pillow on his lap until your eyes are puffy and you’re reduced to hiccuped breaths. Doesn’t judge you for it, offers comfort, understands. He lost Nancy for a while, too. Gets it.

“Staying together in the way we are now isn’t healthy,” you tell him, woodenly, “it’d kill us. I love him, and I know he loves me, but this is what we need right now. Time and space and — and I already miss him so much and it hurts, Steve.”

“Kind of like a limb torn off, right?”

“Maybe not that dramatic?”

“Heart ripped out then?” he amends, huffing a laugh.

“Yeah,” you sob, “that.”

“Hey?” He whispers, and you lift yourself up to look at him. Crumple all over again as he coos, “Honey,” pulling you into his arms. “I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but it’s going to get better, okay?”

“Promise?”

He drops a kiss to the crown of your head. “I promise.”

Everything feels like it’s ending. But one day turns into two, and then two into three. Suddenly it’s a week, and then a month, and without him, the earth turns. The leaves change. The sun rises and falls every day. The ground withers as winter comes and passes, and the flowers bloom in spring. Without him, children still giggle in the park as you rush along on a run. You meet up with friends, deflect advances from men and women at bars — tell them you’re taken, don’t know why — try to live. Try to heal because it’s what you promised Eddie you would do.

Life continues, you miss Eddie because you’ll always miss him, but you don’t see him.

For seven months.

Nancy and Steve make it happen. Coordinate your schedules in a way that allows you both the time you need.

The night before the wedding, after the wedding rehearsal dinner, you invite everyone back to your family’s lake house. You took it for the weekend, just to have some time away after what you’re sure is to be a busy weekend. Wanted to catch up on some reading, wake up to the familiar sounds of birds chirping and the water gurgling.

Eddie stares at you from across the living room, beer in his hand. Watches you like one would watch a show and it has your heart twirling, stomach churning, fingers twitching around the stem of your wine glass.

It’s fleeting. A brief moment before Nancy asks Eddie to help her with something in the other room, and he rushes after her. Robin leans back against the pillows she’s piled up against the couch, her girlfriend, Vickie, beside her, both eying you curiously, “What’s that all about?”

“Nothing,” you mutter absently, sipping at your champagne.

“They used to hook up,” Steve explains, shrugging. “But then they fooled around and fell in love. Just like the song. You know how it goes, ‘fooled around and fell in loveeee.’”

“Steve!”

“What? You were going to tell her in a second. I could see it on your face.”

You blanch. “I mean, yes. But you didn’t have to just spill it out there for the whole world to hear.” You swallow. “Yes, we…were together for a bit but then I ended things. It's been over seven months now.”

“Wow,” Robin breathes out, throwing back the rest of her drink, “so, uh, the smoldering looks Eddie is throwing your way?”

“They’re not smoldering looks,” you argue, cheeks burning, “and if there are, it’s probably just because this is the first time we’ve seen each other in months.”

“Can’t believe none of you assholes told me about this,” Robin huffs out, head shaking. “Does Nancy know?”

“Eddie is her best friend,” Steve says flatly.

“So yes,” Robin concedes. “You’re going to give me grays.”

“You’re only twenty three,” you remind her, and Vickie pins you with a ‘just let her be dramatic’ sort of look.

“I’m just — my best friend was in love with my other best friend. And now the same best friend is sleeping with my other best friend. And those best friends are now acting like a bunch of idiots because they can’t get their shit together and just fall in love and I’m supposed to act like this is all normal?! Just casual, typical Friday night conversation before my other best friend’s wedding to my other best friend —”

“That was…not at all confusing. Nope,” Steve mumbles. Vickie smacks his arm, because there’s a shuffle by the door and Nancy and Eddie appear once more, another log for the crackling fire perched in Eddie’s elbow.

The chatter in the room dissolves after that, as Steve and Nancy make their way upstairs to the room they’re taking for the night. Robin and Vickie have the guest room, leaving you with a decision to make, stopping back into the living room after everyone says goodnight to find Eddie sitting there, watching the fire.

“So…we have one bed free,” you begin.

“It’s yours.”

“You’re a guest,” you remind him, stepping further into the room.

He doesn’t look your way, but you can see orange flames dancing in the reflection of his beautifully dark eyes.

“I want you to have it,” he says, finally turning to face you. Breath hitches in the back of your throat, your body’s normal response when he’s near, clearly not dulled with the passing of time.

“Okay.” You give a curt nod. “Here, let me grab you a blanket.”

He’s quiet. So unlike the man you spent over a year with. Regards you carefully as you move about the room, ducking down to grab a blanket from a basket near the fireplace. Your hand outstretches to pass the blanket to him, his fingers touching yours. It’s a lingering sort of thing. His fingers warm against yours, the barest of brushes of his knuckles across your skin. Electricity dances in your veins.

Then it’s over as quickly as it comes, the blanket thrown over his thighs, his eyes on your face.

“Sorry I missed your birthday," he says.

It was the worst birthday you had in years.

A laugh. “Sorry I missed yours.”

You heard all about it from Steve, but couldn’t bring yourself to go at the time.

He swallows, throat bobs with effort. “You didn’t bring a date for the wedding?”

No, and you hadn’t dated anyone since him either. Tried and failed here and there, blind dates friends set up, but they never went anywhere.

“Neither did you,” you state, as a matter of factly.

Unless she’s hiding somewhere else, and you feel your heart kick anxiously up at the notion.

“Just me,” he says, exhaling deeply.

You thank the heavens, or whoever will listen, for this tiny blessing.

He smiles, and it’s that favorite smile of his. The one where his dimples pop and his face brightens. The one reserved for those many nights you spent inside with him, laughing until the early hours of the morning, both needing to go to work the next day, yet neither finding it in yourselves to care.

“Look at us.”

“Yeah.” Your hand rubs up and down your arm, feet shifting awkwardly beneath you.

“You look…” His eyes trail over your features with a familiar fondness within those dark depths. “You look really good. Happy.”

“I am good…and happy,” you tell him, nodding. “You…you look good, too. I should, uh, head up for bed.”

His head dips, and then dips again rapidly. “Right.” Clears his throat. “Yeah – ah, early morning tomorrow.”

“Yup,” you pop the ‘p.’

There’s a pause in the conversation. A moment where neither of you moves. You know you don’t want to. Want to remain right here. You also know better. There were words said months ago, words with intention behind them. The need for both of you to get better, to get to a place where you’re ready for whatever this thing is between the two of you.

You’re ready, have been for a while now, but Eddie…

As you finally start to trek backwards, maintaining eye contact with the man who still holds your heart, he whispers, “I’m glad you didn’t bring a date.”

“Me too, Eddie,” you admit quietly, biting at your bottom lip. “Maybe it’s selfish, but…me too.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He’s beautiful like this. Dark eyes on yours, hair a wavy mess around his shoulders, strands loose from his ponytail. Soft, in a way that makes you want to climb onto the sofa beside him and let him hold you, erasing all the memories lost. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Breathless, you feel completely and utterly breathless under this spell. “Goodnight, Ed. See you in the morning.”

And you’re gone. Slipping up the stairs to your bedroom, closing the door behind you, and placing a hand over the organ clanging away behind your ribcage. With an exhale, you rush into the bathroom and flick the light on. Your features illuminate in the mirror. Eyes wide, chest heaving, looking a little out of sorts. Your cheeks burn with the whisper of his touch, mind whirling at the meaning behind his glances, the timbre of his words.

Steve might be the first person you loved.

Your first kiss.

But Eddie is the first person you can say without a doubt in your mind you are in love with.

Even now, with seven months of time between you – and you don’t think anything will change that.

——

The wedding ceremony is a beautiful thing. Flowing, floral archway. A church that looks like something out of a postcard. Little mosaic windows, a gorgeous sprawling ceiling with high beams. Everyone they love is here. Family and friends made along the way. The kids, with their beaming smiles and not so childlike faces any longer.

Steve and Nancy recite their vows to one another, the words sounding muffled in your ears, because for the first time in your life the boy you’ve been looking at is finally looking right back at you.

Eddie, in a black suit, smiling over at you. Hands folded in front of himself as Steve and Nancy declare their everlasting love in a room filled with their loved ones. The feeling of his hand on your arm as he walked you down the aisle like a brand that lingers on your skin. Can feel it even now, the way his fingers would feel should they grace your cheek. Had leaned into that caress so many times, seeking the comfort of him.

You don’t even know why, but you smile back, thinking of one of your favorite days with him before everything had gone to hell.

You wanted, very badly actually, to hook up that night. He’d brought a backpack with him, intended to stay for the weekend. But when he walked into your apartment, a spare key on his keyring, he found you holed up on the couch, grumbling about how your weekend plans were ruined.

“They’re not ruined,” Eddie chuckled, dropping down onto the couch beside you. “You act like I’m this insatiable man.”

“You can be –”

“Hi pot, meet kettle.” You glared half heartedly. “Plus you’re a very active participant, and you benefit from it in the form of plentiful orgasms, so quit your yapping,” he teased, catching a little wince, the furrow between your brows. “No dice? What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Period cramps,” you grumbled out, pulling your blanket up higher on your form. “You don’t have to stay. I’m not going to be much company like this.”

“One, I always like hanging out with you. You’re my best friend, you dork.” He flicked your nose, grinning when you wrinkled it in response. “Two, let me run to the supermarket real quick, okay?”

“Why?” Your head tilted to the side.

“Going to grab us some food so I can cook dinner,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “and some things for my girl. Gotta take care of her, right?”

His girl. His girl. He’d never said that before, and something about it felt perfectly wonderful and also a little bit like a lie. You wanted it to be true, though. Realized you hadn’t wanted something so fiercely like that in a long, long time. Didn’t know what to do with those emotions, so you dropped back down onto your mountain of pillows and watched as Eddie quickly slipped out of your apartment in a flurry of black leather and curly hair, and slammed the door behind him.

He returned a half hour later with a bag of treats. Your favorite chips, candy, some popcorn. He got started on spaghetti and requested you pick out a movie. Oddly domestic for two people who usually spent most nights tangled in bedsheets.

Later, after your belly was full and the movie was playing on the television screen, Eddie tugged you against his chest and dragged a hand along your lower back, thumb pushing with perfect pressure at the base of your spine to alleviate some of the ache there.

“Is this good?” he asked, voice quiet.

“Perfect, honestly,” you hummed, head nuzzling further into his chest.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, don’t know who fell asleep first, but when you woke up it was to Eddie’s body curled around yours, his arms slung around your abdomen.

Wanting to do something special for him, you quietly extricated yourself out from within the tangle of his arms. Flicked on your kitchen light and started throwing some things together for pancakes. Your oversized tee shirt fluttered against your thighs as you worked, bare legs covered only up to the knee by your crew socks. At some point as you hummed along to the softly playing radio, Eddie appeared behind you, arms around your waist, his chest at your spine.

“Morning,” he muttered, pressing a loud kiss to your cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay now,” you said, leaning your head over your shoulder to look at him. He trailed the backs of his fingers across the highest point of your cheek. Kissed you slowly, softly, sweetly. “Hmm. What was that for?”

“Didn’t get one yesterday.”

And it shouldn’t have made your heart stutter. It shouldn’t have made a liquid heat pool in your belly. Because the arrangement had always been the two of you being best friends who sought shelter in each other.

You kissed him again. “Better?”

He grinned, twirling you in his arms, hand catching yours. “Nope,” he chuckled, drawing you in closer as ‘My Girl’ spilled out of the radio speaker, “but if you dance with me I might be able to forgive you.”

In the morning light you did just that. He whirled you around and brought you back into the circle of his arms. Looped an arm around your waist to hold you close, your face against the curve of his chest, his chin resting on the crown of your head as he gently hummed along. ‘Well I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way? My girl, my girl, my girl. Talkin’ about my girl, my girl.’

Eventually the pancakes burned, the room filled with smoke, and the fire alarm went off. You laughed about it, fell to the ground in a fit of giggles, your thighs over his lap as you both foregone breakfast in favor of eating ice cream out of a carton.

It felt normal. A little too normal.

Now you only look over to him fondly as Steve and Nancy’s vows draw to a close. Wish, as they walk back out the double doors at the end of the aisle once they’re officially husband and wife, for more stolen moments like that.

——

“Hey,” Steve’s voice calls from the end of the hallway, just as you slip out of the powder room. “I’ve been looking for you. They're doing the couple’s dance next.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “I think you forget I’m single these days.” You pause, rushing over to grab at his tie, askew around his neck. Nimble fingers reach up to grasp at it, working the fabric back into proper place. “You go on ahead. It’s your special day.”

“I promised a friend I’d get you onto the dance floor for one dance,” he says, curling a hand around the back of your wrist. With a frown, he adds, “Just one dance, please? He gets all dramatic and pouty when he doesn’t get his way.”

“Go figure, so do you!” He narrows his eyes as you add, “no wonder you’re best friends.”

“I’m choosing to ignore you,” he says, suddenly — albeit dramatically — glum.

“Today is your wedding day,” you remind him, sliding your palm down to wrap around his hand, “you shouldn’t be worried about me.”

“Yeah, but remember when I decided you were my best friend at ten years old? I said I’d protect and love you forever —”

“We were kids,” you laugh, shaking your head, “we said a lot of things we knew nothing about.”

“Hey.” His hand frees itself from yours, only for both to rest on either side of your cheeks. Tears, unbidden, start to burn on your lower lash line, threatening to spill out. “You are my best friend. And I want you to be happy. It’s been seven months. Hear him out, see what he has to say, and don’t let this day pass by without at least giving things a chance.”

“Why, Steve?”

“Because I married my person today,” he says, brushing away a tear as it glides down your cheek, “and I think he could be yours. Look at me, okay? Look at you — too pretty to be crying right now. I love you.”

“I love you too, Steve.”

Would love him forever. That kind of friendship never fades, never dwindles, never dies.

A different type of love than the one you once loved him with, because that spot was always meant for Eddie, even if you hadn’t always known it.

“One dance?”

“One dance,” you agree, curling your arm through the loop of his elbow he leaves open for you to take.

The reception hall is glowing in a pale blue. All around couples start to litter the dance floor. Bodies close together, heads bent low, hushes of whispers between partners shared only for their ears. Steve halts you as you step out into the crowd, and it’s then that the world seems to stop. There, at the edge of the floor, stands Eddie with his hands in his pockets. His tie is a little loose around his throat, the top button of his shirt open, revealing a hint of the tattoos he got to help cover some of the scarring there. And then you catch the tilt of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, the way he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the room.

“Go…” Steve gives you a little nudge and joins his new wife.

On shaky legs, you start to walk. One foot after another, after another. One two, one two. You count each footfall, and can feel the thump-thump of your heart, as every step brings you closer to him. Finally, the tips of your heeled shoes meet his leather ones.

Your head lifts, eyes catching him in the dim lighting. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey,” he says back, unsure of where to put his hands, one raising to touch your shoulder before he thinks better of it.

“I’ve been told I owe you a dance,” you say, fighting back the silly smile that threatens to grow on your lips.

“Got worried,” he confesses, a tentative hand curling around your back, pressing against the middle to pull you in close.

Your body brushes him, and it feels like coming home after a long day. It feels like your whole soul exhales. Feels right. “Why?”

“Thought you might stand me up,” he chuckles, your head resting against his shoulder, “and then I’d look like the only idiot alone on the dance floor.”

“Look, Eddie, I —” you say, just as he says, “I missed you so damn much, sweetheart.”

There it is. The wonder, the questions you’ve yet to ask, uncovered in one sentence. The confirmation that everything you’ve been feeling, every longing moment, has been mutual.

“That day in your kitchen,” he says, quiet enough only you can hear, “when we danced like this was that first moment for me.”

“What moment?” You blink up at him nervously.

“When I realized how completely and utterly fucked I was because I lo — liked you more than I ever realized,” he admits, a little sheepishly, “although pretty sure it was before that. Look — when we broke up —”

“Eddie,” you interrupt, heart hammering away wildly like little hummingbird wings, “I don’t think a wedding is the best place to discuss this. And I want to discuss it, don’t get me wrong, I just think we should…keep things normal for our friends. It’s their day.”

“It’s been seven months,” he reminds you.

As if you could ever forget, as if there isn’t an ‘Eddie’ shaped indent forever etched into your comforter that you’ve stared at for every day since he walked out your door.

“And I’ve thought about you every single day for each of them,” he says, and it nearly breaks you all over again when you catch the longing in his voice.

“I know,” you say, a little hoarsely, “I have too.”

His lip twitches at that, hopefulness replacing the forlorn look on his beautiful face. Everything in you screams to lean up and kiss him, to put to rest the disquiet in your soul, but you refrain. Focus solely instead on the emcee as he announces the bouquet toss.

“Guess that’s my cue,” you tell him, shrugging softly. “You’ll call me? Tonight?”

Eddie grimaces. Nods. “Sure. Yeah.”

Walking backwards, you flash him a wave, trying to not inwardly wince at your last words to the man. ‘You’ll call me?’ There’s little time to linger, as girls gather around on the dance floor and Nancy turns away from the crowd, her back to your group. Steve looks on at Eddie’s side, the two laughing jovially as Nancy launches the bouquet over her head and into the sea of women.

It happens in slow motion. You think it does, at least. An elbow digs into your ribs here, a knee bumps yours there, a shoulder bashes yours, and, without even realizing it, the flowers thump into your chest. Robin’s shaking your shoulder, laughing in your ear as Nancy rushes over to wrap you in a hug. Steve’s grinning and elbowing Eddie, who is turning a shade of red you’re pretty sure a tomato would envy.

It’s just a silly tradition, you think.

Doesn’t mean anything. So you grab onto Nancy and Robin, pull them back onto the dance floor, and pretend you don’t wish deep down it did.

——

Your keys drop into a bowl near the coat rack. Your jacket is pushed up onto a hook, still wet from the rain that’s starting to fall over Hawkins. Feet aching, you kick those off at the doorway, breathing a deep breath at the instantaneous relief. With a sigh, you slip into the kitchen and hit the light switch, as well as the back light, and suddenly the wide open windows to the sliding door leading to the lake are illuminated. Your eyes trail over the water rippling in the distance. The moon is a perfect circle in the sky, the twinkly lights your parents had wrapped around an umbrella outside like little fireflies in the night, even on a dreary evening.

Another sigh and you slip over to the counter, grabbing a bottle opener. An unopened red wine bottle sits idly on the counter, and you snatch a glass from a cabinet above, pouring a generous cup.

You’ve barely enough time to take in that first decadent sip when the doorbell rings, filling the home. Eyes flick to the clock against the wall, read that it’s nearly eleven now. Maybe the neighbor’s dog got free again? Wouldn’t be the first time.

Another ring.

“One second!” you shout into the open air, placing your glass down on the counter to rush down the hall.

Through the peephole you see him. Hair stuck to his forehead and slicked to his leather jacket. His shirt is nearly seethrough. Droplets of water cascade down the tense lines of his face, his forehead.

“Eddie?” you ask as you tug the door open, head cocked to the side. “What are y —”

“I’ll call?” He sounds pitiful. A hoarse sound tugged from deep within his chest, like his words have been raked over glass.

You…there are no words. “Yeah, Eddie. It’s when a person picks up the phone, dials a number, and the other person answers. Generally they carry on a conversation after, if we are getting technical here.”

He shakes his head and water flicks from the ends of his wet strands of hair with the movement. “Since when are we the kind of people who do that? We’re the kind of people who just barge right into places. I show up at your place, you show up at mine. We eat each other’s food, share everything. Hell, I had a key to your apartment. I’d stop on my way back from the shop to shower because you always lived closer to there than my apartment. Gotta say, I miss that. And fuck — I miss you, sweetheart.”

He’s shivering now as you ask, “What are you doing, Eddie?”

He lets out an incredulous laugh, looking to the sky, exasperated. “Standing here in the pouring rain trying to tell the girl that I love…that I’m in love with her and that I want to be with her. For real this time.” He pauses, arms curling around himself. “And I’m, like, really cold right now and I wanted to have this conversation inside but here I am, trying to make a grand gesture.”

“I thought you weren’t a grand gesture guy.” You’re joking, but there are tears burning in your eyes at his words.

“I’m a grand gesture kind of guy for you. Only you.” His teeth chatter, “Fuck, sweetheart —”

“Oh,” you jolt, tugging the door open wider, “come in. I’m so sorry.”

It’s instant. As soon as the door shuts behind him, and he’s standing there sopping wet on your rug, his hands find your face and draw your mouth to his, claiming your lips in a searing kiss.

A kiss that starts off tentatively. Light. Teasing. Gentle brushes of skin passing over yours. Relearning each other, as if you’d ever forget him. As if you’d ever forget the mintiness on his tongue, the smokiness in his kiss. As if you’d forget the way he always loops an arm around your lower back to tug you in closer, bringing you flush against him, wanting to always be near.

But it’s not enough, you decide, as you work at the buttons on his shirt. Each one pops out slowly, fingers tripping over themselves, a puddle already forming on the ground beneath you. Once he’s free, you tug his undershirt out from his dark pants, fingers roaming over the soft of his stomach, the line of hair disappearing beneath his pants that has him circling your wrists with his fingers to pause you in your ministrations.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear, brushing featherlight kiss after featherlight kiss to your throat. “I want to take my time with you.”

“You love me?” you ask him, humming into his mouth as he walks you backward into the living room, barely making it to the couch before you’re clambering up onto his lap, dress riding up on your thighs.

“I love you,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I love you.” He kisses your other cheek. “I love you.” He kisses your forehead. “I love you,” and finally, your lips.

Your face crumples with his words, tears stinging your eyes. His thumbs come up to brush at the ones that slip down your cheeks, voice a coo when he says, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m happy,” you whimper out, “I missed you. Every day, I missed you.”

“You’re stuck with me now,” he chuckles, and you laugh along with him, liking the way that sounds, “I’m moving my things back into your dresser as we speak.”

“Promise?”

He sobers then. Lips turning downward, the wrinkle on his forehead more pronounced, his hands curling around yours and giving a squeeze. “I’m sorry. For that last day. I…my head was all over the place at the time. I was trying to figure out how I felt about you and clearly had some feelings still that I needed to work through with Nancy. But you — you didn’t deserve that.”

When you shake your head, he continues, “It hadn’t been ‘just sex’ for me for a long time. I mean, I made up excuses to see you whenever I could. Maybe I didn’t realize what was going on, but I just wanted to be around you all the time. And when I wasn’t able to see you and just…be with you…it wasn’t easy. But I know it’s what we needed and I’m ready now. I just want us, for real this time. I want to hang out at your apartment, do all that stupid couple shit that I can only see myself doing with you. I want you to yell at me when I leave the damn toilet seat up. I want to brush my teeth with you before bed and hold you every night. I want to do this with you, be with you in the way we should have been all along, if you’ll let me.”

“Yes,” you kiss him, long and lingering, breathing him in as he does the same. “I want it all with you, Eddie. I love you…I love you so much.”

“Don’t think I’ll ever get used to you saying that,” he says, staring up at you wondrously.

“I’ll remind you everyday, don’t worry,” you tell him with a giggle, sliding your hands up and over his shoulders, along the curve of his jaw. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Eddie makes love to you for the first time that night.

A slow, gentle thing.

His body crowds over yours, hands map out every line of your body, memorizing every detail he’s gone without for months. Kisses along every inch of you he can, whispering praises into your skin. When he pushes inside for that first time, your breath rushes out of you in a strained gasp as your body readjusts to seven months without him, mouth dropping open with a whine when he bottoms out.

It’s slow. His hips rolling against yours, body cradling you close, thumb finding your clit to bring you up and over the edge, trembling beneath him with a cry of his name.

That first time feels like a sorry.

The second, he pulls you into the shower, washing every inch of your body. The remnants of the wedding and him still on your skin. He’s sweet, all soft, fluttery kisses against your lips and shoulders, your spine, your thighs when he gets down onto his knees to glide the washcloth along them.

His mouth finds you in the shower, your head rolling back against tile, fingers tangling in his hair as he props a thigh over his shoulder to keep you open for him.

When you finish, you pull him back up to your lips, smothering his own moan with a kiss as you cup him in hand and help to guide him into you.

That time feels like a promise. The steady rhythm of his hips, the fierceness of his love, the strength of his arms as he holds you, his eyes locked on yours as you both bask in the euphoria of closeness.

The third happens somewhere around the time the sun begins to rise again over Hawkins, the rainstorm from the night before a wispy memory. Thighs slot over Eddie’s hips, his hands sliding up and over your breasts, teasing as you roll over him, the drag of him and the soft moans spilling from the man beneath you spurring you on.

That third time, as he flips you over onto your back and moves inside you so slowly, hands and eyes locked with yours — that one feels like a new beginning, a turning page.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the dawning realization. Tears he brushes away with sweet kisses, whispering, “I know, I know,” into your shoulder as he comes apart at the edges, your own release shattering through you like a bolt of lightning. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sleep intermittently. Both of you. The house is yours for the weekend, so you make the most of it. Lips coming together, bodies joining after soft sighs turn into eager movements of hands beneath covers. Over and over, like you can’t get enough — and you won’t get enough.

Somewhere around dinner time the next evening, you traipse out of bed with Eddie still sprawled out on his stomach, long tee shirt dancing along your thighs. Sock clad feet excitedly slide across wooden floors, fingers curling around the refrigerator door to pull out a bottle of champagne. As the cork pops, Eddie appears in the doorway, a white tank top covering his body, sweats hanging low on his hips. A tattooed arm comes up to rest there, the muscle of his bicep straining with the movement.

“Hi,” he whispers. Pauses, making a little camera with his hands, pretending to snap a photo.

“What was that?” you giggle airily, pouring two glasses, offering one to him.

“Just looked so damn beautiful, sweetheart,” he leans down to kiss your forehead, “sunset behind you, your smile.”

“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle with those on his free hand. “How about I order us a pizza? I’m starving.”

You eat in comfortable silence, the bottle of champagne slipping away as the hours do. Everything feels saccharine and wonderful, perfectly warm, as he later tugs your hand on the way downstairs, deciding on a game of pool before heading back up to watch a movie together.

Eddie makes his way over to the record player in the corner. As the music fills the room, the lyrics to “The Way You Do the Things You Do,” meet your ears, a silly smile sliding across your lips.

“Are you a secret romantic?” you tease, snatching a pool cue from a rack.

“Only for you,” he muses, catching the one you throw his way as he starts to rack the balls. “I like this record, though. Reminds me of you.”

You lean over the table to break, not missing the way his eyes trail your backside as you do so. Balls scatter, a solid sinking into a pocket. “So…you’ll move in?”

“Is that your way of asking?” he chuckles, moving around the table to make a shot, knocking another ball of yours in.

“Well…” You bite at your lip, focusing on your next shot. Sink one of his. “My place is closer to your job. It’s bigger. You’ve basically lived there before…”

“You don't think it’s too soon?”

Your mouth pops open, wincing as he sinks another one of your balls. “I mean, I didn’t think. I just feel like —”

“I’m kidding, baby,” he swoops down to kiss your temple, “Told you last night you’re not getting rid of me. I want to do things right this time.”

You sip your glass a bit, relishing the bubbles that spring to life in your belly, sure many of which are thanks to the man staring at you the way he is.

“Your turn,” he says, gesturing toward your cue.

The next song plays on the record, and you once again lean forward, watching Eddie’s gaze in the mirror hanging across the way as he slips up from behind you, curling an arm low around your belly, kissing your neck.

Heat coils low, then lower still. “You’re —” A quiet sigh spills out of you, his lips toying with the space beneath your ear. “…distracting me.”

As he moves out from behind you, lining up his next shot, you snatch his pack of cigarettes free from his pocket. His eyes lock on yours as you pluck one free, holding it between two fingers, drawing it up to pursed lips. Dark eyes lock with yours as the tip glows red, watching you draw in slowly. As you exhale he snatches it from you, bringing it to his mouth.

And maybe you lean over again, backside poking out a little bit too far than it needs to, but the effect is him curling his arms around your hips, dragging your back flush against his chest as you reach up to take the cigarette back from him. Like that, you feel every inch of his body. Each dip and curve of a broad torso, the corded muscles in his arms from working with his hands for hours all day. Hands you know to be skilled, not only with your body, but with cars and his music. And he’s warm — like a damn near furnace, breath tantalizingly sweet against your ear as he kisses you softly there.

“Fuuuck me,” you sigh out as his fingers start to draw lazy circles around the tops of your thighs, dragging higher until they disappear beneath your shirt and toy at the hem of your panties, teasing, slowly swaying to “My Girl” once it starts.

“Always so wet for me, baby,” he purrs, nipping and sucking a line at your neck. He’s hard where he rests at your ass, and the urge to touch him has you reaching behind your back, cupping him through his sweats.

Eddie groans and you’re suddenly spun around, the cigarette stamped out on an ash tray behind you, your glass of champagne nearly knocked over. His hand grasps one of yours, his other loops low around your back, bodies swaying to and fro to the music, lyrics interrupted by the sounds of your lips meeting his. And it’s perfect: moonlight spilling in through a darkened window, your shirt dancing around your thighs, his heart beating in tandem with yours. You’re not sure when, or how, it happens. One moment you’re swaying with him, arms around his neck, keeping him in close. The next, you’re on your back, balls scattering around you on the table, his mouth clashing fiercely with yours.

You shove his sweatpants down, and he tugs at your panties. He’s bare beneath, and as soon as your underwear is tossed somewhere else in the room, he’s crawling up your body, the hot underside of his cock sliding through already slick folds, coating himself in your wetness.

“Eddie,” you let out a breathy whimper, the friction of him against you perfect and yet not enough all the same, “Eddie, please. I want you inside me.”

His eyes are on yours as he grips himself in hand, gliding his glistening pink tip along your center, asking, "You want me like this baby? Tell me.”

“Please. Please, I want it all, Eddie.”

“Look at us,” he whispers, and you watch that moment, that forever splendid moment where he buries himself inside you, closer to you than anyone has ever been or will be. “Jesus…” He grinds out through clenched teeth, pulling out slowly before pushing all the way back in, “You always feel so good. You feel like mine.”

“I love you.” You pant into his neck, clawing at his back as he picks up his pace, “Always loved you.”

You’ve said it a thousand times now. Watched every time as pure and unadulterated peace fell across his features. But now Eddie only holds you, whispering the sentiment back into your skin as his body drives yours further up the pool table, imbuing every roll of his hips, every thrust, with the emotions overflowing in his chest. You can feel it, the depth of it. The way he loves you, the trust between you, the promise he’ll always keep you safe and close.

You can only bask in it.

——

“Are you okay?”

He asks you again, as you stand outside that next morning, a blanket wrapped around your form.

The answer isn’t simple.

Then again, none of this has ever been. Not with Eddie. But you suppose that’s what makes it your favorite love story.

Because it’s yours. Because it’s messy and it’s different and it’s yours. Because you started off as two friends, maybe in the wrong place, in love with the wrong people at the wrong time when you first met years ago.

Or — perhaps, the right time, because in the end you’re here. With him. With thoughts of the future, plans for what happens when you head out later for your apartment.

To the place where you’ll start the newest chapter with him once and for all.

“I’m perfect,” you tell him, lowering down onto the swinging chair against the side of the home. Your fingers tangle with his, your body slumping over his chest as he gets comfortable against the cushions. He holds you like that as you trace patterns into his skin, trace over scars, over tattoos. “I’m going to miss the lake house, but I can’t wait to go home.”

“I know.” He drops a kiss to the top of your head, his fingers brushing against your spine. “Me too.”

A comfortable silence drapes over you as you watch the sun creep higher along the sky. As you listen to the birds chirping, the chatter of children. Later, it’s the ruckus of people launching themselves into the water, people fishing and boasting of their catches. And at night, as you and Eddie make one last fire and share a glass of wine, fireflies drifting around your head, you allow yourself to imagine a life where forever looks like this.

A life with your first real, honest, true love.

Someone who stares right back at you as you grin at him over the lip of your glass, who leans over and kisses you just to whisper he loves you into your lips one more time.

In a year from now you’ll be back, you in a flurry of pretty tulle and him in a tux, newly Mr. and Mrs. Munson, but for now you smile to yourself, ready to watch the next chapter unfold.

——

this is the first thing i have written this long in months after having the worst few months of my life. so happy to finally hit post on this one. i hope you enjoy, maybe leave a comment or a reblog. would mean the world to me. 💕

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