#plant worker Eddie

[vulpixsworld]

Winner for the Olympic Hellcheer au! A plot summary.

Date: February 1987.

Chrissy Cunningham is training to return to the '88 Winter Olympics after winning Gold in the '84 Winter Olympics Figure Skating. She's trained by her mother, Laura Cunningham, who used to be a two-time Figure Skater Champion and makes Chrissy's life a living hell to be the best.

One night, Chrissy sneaks out to get some night food at Benny's Diner and meets Eddie Munson, an outcast and hated guy in the small town of Hawkins, Indiana.

Eddie Munson returned to town to help his uncle, Wayne Munson, who had been injured in a car crash. After he finally graduated High School in '86, he left with Jeff for California, where they rebuilt their band, Corroded Coffin, made an album, and are a small, noticed band at a bar on weekends. Small but better than nothing. He's only in town temporarily. He works part-time at the plant and a local ice ring and drives the Zamboni to help with bills and money.

The two chat and develop a spark. They secretly date during the springtime and soon fall in love. By June, Wayne is all better, and Eddie is asked to return to California from Jeff. Will their love stand if Eddie chooses to go back to California, or will he stay for Chrissy? Can Chrissy manage their relationship while she is training for the Winter Olympics? Or will she fall and crash on everything she has hoped and loved?

I just started writing the plot; there is no chapter yet. I may or may not change some things, but I like how it sounds. Thank you, everyone, for voting, and I hope to make ya'll proud. Right now, I'm almost done with my weekend story, and I gotta work on Love Over Matter as soon as possible, so it may take a while.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[calumfmu]

all in your head, but I want nonfiction.

You knew who you married to at this point, you really couldn't be mad at him for handling his affairs overseas. He was responsible for everything and more you could've wanted. Everything except his time.

You were the woman of the house, responsible for the affairs over here. And the tattooed man lingering in the yard was the perfect thing to start with.

or; Steddie x reader. (business man!Steve, worker!Eddie, stay at home wife!reader) cw: 18+, mdni, pure smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (female and male receiving), fingering, back shots (yes pls), creampie, nipple sucking, threesome, mutual masturbation, slight hair pulling kink, use of the nickname Stevie, brief mentions of alcoholism and drug abuse, (7.7k+ words of pure smut)

It was three months this time, he had been gone. Six total, if you didn't count the two weeks that he was home in between trips. You were really starting to miss your husband, craving his presence, beginning to feel the emptiness of the house you were in.

"Greece is good this time of year," Steve commented, face blurred on the FaceTime call. You hummed, swirling the glass of Cabernet in your hand.

"Yeah, I wouldn't know," you teased, smacking your tongue against your teeth. A quirk of his eyebrow thrown in your direction, the screen lagging slightly as his mouth moved before the words could come out. You often did this, poked fun at the situation, but as of late, the truth has started to leak through the cracks of your words.

"Babe, you know I have to-"

And in that second, the call ended in three abrupt beeps, 'Called Failed' appearing in his place. With a sigh, you threw your phone aside, used to this type of instance occurring. As much money as your husband made, you could barely get the time to speak to him during this time of the year, his service always being the worst or calls being rushed or interruptions always happening.

You knew who you married at this point, you really couldn't be mad at him for handling his affairs overseas. He was responsible for the roof of the mansion over your head, making you a stay at home wife, supplying you with everything you could ever want without even having to voice that. Everything except his time. In the mean time, you’ve buried your time with drinking, book clubs on top of book clubs, expensive dinners alone, and loads of ogling at the men in town you could look at, but not touch.

Seeing your husband, touching your husband only a total of three times in the past half year was an aching feeling, loneliness creeping in at the worst times of the day. Time passed so slowly, it was hard to imagine even seeing him again some days.

You started at the window, gripping the wine glass at your hand as you reached for the decanter perched on the window sill. The sound of the alcohol pouring into the glass filled the room, your wandering eyes searching through the yard for anything to entertain you.

Bingo.

A tall man, curly hair long and pulled back into a bun. Short sleeved, white shirt tight against his frame as he paraded through the grass, boots stopping every now and then as he glanced at the plants in the garden. Your brow furrowed as the confusion set in, wondering who this man was in your yard and yet so interested in learning who he is.

You tapped on the window loudly, knuckles rapping against the pane of the glass as you tried getting his attention.

“Hey!” You called, waving your arm in the air in between knocks.

The man in your yard heard something, his own face turning up as he looked around himself. His eyes searched the grass area before glancing up, settling on your figure displayed through the glass.

“What are you doing?” You shouted, aware that there wasn’t a chance he heard what you were saying. To confirm your suspicions, his hand rose to shield his eyes, the sun glaring down at him as he stared up at you.

He mouthed something, shrugging his shoulders as the two of you held eye contact.

“What are you-” You cut yourself off with a huff, turning on one heel to march downstairs, intent on swearing up a storm, telling him to get off of your property before your husband has something to say about it. And even if the likelihood of getting said husband even on the phone was low, this stranger truly didn’t have to know.

The silk robe you wore flowed in the air as you made yourself way down the stairs, one hand still gripping your wine glass, the other pinching it closed, lounge wear not exactly appropriate for the interaction you were about to have. The four minutes it took you to trek through the house and out the door had you praying he had disappeared, become a figment of your imagination by now.

Double doors swinging open, you stepped out onto the porch, your own hand raising above your eyebrows to block out the UV rays.

To your luck (or despair), he was still there, crouched down as he looked at the array of sprinkler systems.

“What are you doing?” You accused, stepping out further of the house as he shot up in your direction. Surprise was written all over his face, deep lines appearing on his forehead.

“Hi, ma’am, I’m—”

“You have about three seconds to get off of my property,” you tightened the robe around your chest, noticing the way his eyes dipped to explore the expanse of your chest shown.

“Ma’am, I’m—”

“My husband’s going to be home any moment,” A lie. And you both knew it by the way his eyes squinted a little. You doubled down. The wine was starting to take effect. “And he’ll have you arrested. We know the chief.”

An amused smirk passed on his face, smugness oozing from his features. He waited a beat, eyes twinkling with humor.

“Are you finished?”

Your mouth dropped open, shock written all your face. The mocking, you definitely weren’t used to it. You hated to lean into the spoiled stay at home wife trope, but you were used to people folding at you, kissing your ass based on the family that you happened to marry into.

“Excuse m—”

“I’m friends with Steve,” he spit out, smiling even wider at the wide eyes you gave him. “Eddie. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

His hand shot out to shake yours, dropping slowly as you just stared down at it. You could drop the act now, realizing that this man had to have been telling the truth. You hadn’t heard anyone call your husband by his first name in years, ‘Harrington’ being the only calling card.

You took a sip of the dark alcohol in your grasp, glancing away from him as you rested a hand on your hip. His eyes chose to linger over your body, cleavage exposed through your lounge wear. Huffing, you pulled the cover up closed once more, warmth tinging your cheeks.

“And your business here is? If you knew Steve, you would know he doesn’t just invite friends over.”

“Oh, uhm,” Eddie took a step closer to you, standing side to side as he began to point over the yard. You suddenly noticed the clipboard and phone in his other hand. “I’m the new groundsman, taking over the landscaping, plans for the new yard, the whole lot.”

Ah. That did sound somewhat familiar, mentioned somewhere between the bottles of Dom Perignon you and your best friend shared the other week over a FaceTime call with Steve.

He turned towards you again, his eyes wandering for the thousandth time. You couldn’t tell if the heat was making your robe slip a little looser or if the wine was truly getting to you.

“You must be the wife,” Eddie smiled, toothy grin settling over his face as he held eye contact. In the length of this interaction, the sun has began to dip lower in the sky. You got a good look at him, not seeing any obvious similarities on how he would be friends with your husband, in any universe. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Define a lot,” another sip of your wine down the hatch. The double pour was nearly gone by now.

“Woman of the house.” He took a step closer to you, pushing the clipboard down in front of him. “Takes care of things for Stevie over here.” The tone of his voice shifted. “Could get terribly lonely sometimes.”

The concept of looking and not touching was getting a little harder for you. Gasping, you turned towards the house, downing the last of your beverage.

“I’m going to get more.”

You took a few steps towards the house before briefly turning your body to him. He was watching your movements, head tilted to the side slightly as he stared down at the sway of your hips.

“Are you coming or not?”

He was quick on his feet, tracking you on your heels as the two of you made your way up the grand entrance. The coolness of the house, covered in marble and white instantly taming the heat taking over your body. Eddie let out a low whistle, his neck craning up to stare at the high ceilings, chandelier hanging above the entry way. Everything about the place was pristine and huge, money screaming even the gloss of paint covering from the walls.

The sound of his boots were loud following your bare feet, making his way into the kitchen behind you.

“Nice one, Steve,” Eddie laughed to himself, shaking his head. You went over to the wine rack on one end of the kitchen, ripping off a bottle without even glancing at the label. Another crystal glass followed, you placing it in front of the man before you.

His finger was running along the marble countertops, his eyes wide as he studied the detail. Just as you went to pour a glass for him, his hand shot out.

“Oh no, hun. I can’t do wine,” he rushed, a smile on his face. You ignored the nickname, hand paused as the bottle was tilted in the air. Staring up at him, your face was emotionless.

“Sober?”

He opened his mouth to speak, cutting himself off with a laugh. “Not exactly. Just makes me… a little reckless,” he finished, placing the clipboard down on the counter.

A smirk of your own crossed your lips before you poured the glass anyways, sliding it over to him once a hefty serving was in front of you. He shook his head as he reached for it despite his own words, swallowing down a gulp.

The two of you stood in silence, devious looks in your eyes. You let your eyes wander over him, taking in the white shirt he wore, how it hugged him just right. It felt wrong, thinking of your husband’s friend like this. It had been so long since any type of male interaction, you couldn’t help but feel tempted.

“Babe?”

You jumped where you stood, your topped off glass fumbling in your fingertips. Your best friend appearing around the corner, her loafers sounding out through the corridors.

“Robin, Jesus Christ—”

She stopped just as she rounded the corner, eyes darting in between the two of you. The look she gave you made you speechless, her all knowing eyes saying everything she needed to.

“And you are…?”

Eddie put down his glass, a glance thrown in your direction once more before he took a few steps towards Robin. She squared up her shoulders, amusement on her face.

“Leaving,” he smiled, passing her. You and the other girl in the room watched him making his way over to the main corridor. He turned to you one last time before disappearing. “Mrs. Harrington, it was a pleasure, hun.”

He disappeared, a wink thrown in your direction. Your breath caught in your throat at his last move, shaky hands bringing the glass of alcohol to your lips.

“Hun??” Robin questioned once the front door slammed behind him. She came to your side, eyebrows raised behind her wispy bangs. “Hun!”

Rolling your eyes, you pushed the fingers away from you as she pulled on the hem of your robe.

“Rob—please.”

“Uh uh, babe. We’re going to talk about this,” she laughed, taking the glass from your fingertips. She took her own swig, grimacing at the bitter taste.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

A dead pan look covered her. “All I’m saying is Harrington better watch out. He’s got some competition.”

You laughed bitterly at her words, taking a seat at one of the bar chairs. It was cool against your exposed legs, the heat from the moment finally drifting from them.

“Well, Harrington,” you mocked the last name she used, the both of you realizing if anyone had the right to call him Steve, it was her. “Was the one who hired him, new house job or whatever.”

“Consider that a gift,” she shrugged, laughing loudly as you shoved her shoulder. Heat pooled at your cheeks (and between your legs).

“Robin!”

“I’m just saying! He probably put an ad in the paper or something: Lonely Housewife Looking to Fuck.”

You dropped your head in your hands, laughter bubbling out at her words. She couldn’t get more ridiculous than this. A gasp left your mouth, your eyes peaking between the spaces of your fingers as you looked at her.

She was looking at the clipboard he had forgotten, a scrap of paper on top of the various items.

“I’d dust off the cobwebs, babe,” she giggled, sliding over the board to you. You peaked down at what was written, your heart racing at the scribble next to his number.

‘For the lonely wife. We could talk business. xx Eddie.’

It had gotten interesting the last few weeks, the second story window becoming your favorite spot to watch Eddie work in the yard. The sweltering heat was your best friend behind the AC of your home, choosing to enjoy the way Eddie looked in the Indiana heat. Tight tank tops, tattoos exposed, hair pulled to the back of his head with loose curls framing his face.

He barked off orders to his crew, always cracking jokes with them, teeth bared in a grin. He was clearly a joy to be around, spreading humor to even you from yards away.

It was a cat and mouse game you could call it, Eddie clearly showing off his muscles and sex appeal while you played the other side, risking just how little of clothing you could get away with inside the comfort of your own home. You passed in front of windows, dropping the shoulders of your silk robes as you pretended to get distracted, bending over to grab ‘forgotten’ items on the floor.

You knew he knew what you were doing. He was aware of it the entire time, his own smiles thrown in your direction as you began to push your limits of what could be acceptable for looking, and not touching.

The shrill ringing of the FaceTime call brought you out of your observations, Steve’s contact appearing on screen. You slid open the call, smiling brightly when his face appeared, styled hair, button down open, exposing that silver chain and his chest full of hair.

“There’s my handsome boy,” you beamed, blowing a kiss to the screen. Steve smiled brightly, pressing his lips to the camera.

“And my beautiful wife,” he cooed, holding up the camera wide to give you a view of him. He was on a coast somewhere, Mediterranean. The view was beautiful, waves crashing as the sun was nearly gone from the sky.

“What are you up to, my love?”

You glanced out the window at Eddie, noticing his crew was gone. He stood alone in the center of the yard, taking a look at the landscaping design prints.

“Just… relaxing,” you let the camera show you resting against the window seat in your room, lingerie on display. The camera only showed a flash of your cleavage before you brought the camera back up, a shy, yet devious look on your face.

“What do y—oh.”

It was quick, the way Steve moved. Your phone screen showed a blur of Steve’s clothing, the sound of his footsteps, and the sliding of a glass door before he was shown again on the screen, his hair fanning out on a pillow on a bed.

“Tell me more.”

From the angle, you could tell that Steve had began to touch himself at the thought of you. You showed more of yourself, manicured hand beginning to run down your chest, trailing down your stomach to rest on the front of your panties.

It had been months since you last did this over the phone, the timing always so wrong or one of you not in the mood or always something.

“Thinking of you, Steve.”

It couldn’t be a lie if you were omitting part of the truth. He didn’t need to know you were thinking about Eddie as well.

“Fuck.”

The phone dropped against his chest, showing black before he picked it up again, a flushed look on his face. You giggled slightly, spreading your legs against the window bench as you showed more of yourself. Your hand slipped down the front of your underwear, teasing slightly as you ran the pads of your fingertips against your clit.

“Wish I was there with you, baby,” Steve sighed, eyes closed as slick noise began to be heard through the phone. You brushed your clit harder, whimpering as you thought of your husband touching himself to the thought of you.

Glancing out the window, Eddie was still distracted, back turned towards you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you dipped a finger lower, entering yourself.

“I miss you so much, Steve,” a whine left your throat. He let out a shuddered moan.

“You miss me, baby?”

Nodding, you pushed in another finger, the sound of your own slick filling your eyes. Pleasure began to course through you, an ache settling at your core.

“What do you miss the most?”

His tooth was dug into his bottom lip, a fucked out look on his face from his own hand. You could only imagine how he was feeling, achingly hard across the world from his wife who just looked so tempting.

“I miss your—fuck Steve—I miss your cock,” a whimper fell from you, your chest heaving as your fingers crooked against that spot deep inside you. You weren’t going to last long, this feeling had been building inside you for weeks.

“Oh my G—”

Steve’s side of the phone fell once again, a loud groan heard before the call dropped, the dial tone loud in the room. Tears pricked in your eyes as you tossed your phone to the side, leaning your head against the window as you looked down in the yard once more, fingers moving swiftly in and out of your wetness.

You had an audience now.

Eddie was staring up at you, look of shock on his face as he held the plans in his hand. A look from him alone was all you needed before coming, pussy throbbing around your digits, legs squeezing shut.

It was the most intense orgasm you had in a while, your body tensing up with release as pleasure washed over you. It took a moment before you came to, fingers leaving your core as you brushed once, twice more over your clit, riding out the feeling.

You didn’t have the nerve to look outside again, shame washing over you as you realized what had just happened.

Phone ringing once again, your shaky hand reached over the grab it, answering it to see Steve, face flushed and lip bitten red on the other end.

“I’m sorry, baby—This fucking service over here, I’m sorry,” he rushed, eyes apologetic. That puppy dog look you fell for was staring at you, grainy as his phone struggled to keep up. “Did you—”

You barely nodded, eyes hooded while you came down from your high.

“Babe, it’s okay.”

“No, I just—I’m sorry.”

“Steve,” he cut off his rambling as you gave him a stern look. You really did run things around the Harrington home. “I’m okay, really.”

“I love you.”

You smiled, blowing him another kiss. “I love you t-”

A male’s voice called from his end of the phone, immediately distracting both you and your husband. Sighing, you knew what was coming.

His face was sincere as he turned back to you, lips fixed in a pout.

“I gotta—”

You waved him off, sitting up slightly as you closed the silk around your frame. “Yeah, yeah, go handle business, Harrington.”

That’s why he loved you. No matter how much this truly did affect you, and how much you wished you could have more than a 10 minute call, you always were so supportive. He did support the lifestyle that you always dreamed of, even if it did come with certain circumstances that weren’t ideal.

“I love you, baby.” He moved to hang up the phone, pausing before ending the call. “Tell Ed I said hey, by the way.”

You swore your heart stopped beating in that moment as he left.

You had resorted to staying inside, avoiding Eddie and his crew that occupied your lawns during the day hours. The deep insides of your home without windows facing them became your isolation points. It was everything and more for you to avoid him, guilt creeping into the pit of your stomach.

You'd even gone as far as avoiding Robin and her prying eyes. She had known something was going on with you, felt it deep in her soul. That woman knew you like the back of her hand, could recognize every shift of emotion you'd experience, knew something had gone down between the two of you even if touching wasn't necessarily involved.

("Is there something wrong, babe? You've barely touched your Pomerol." The eye roll you gave her could win awards.)

It was like something shifted in the air, grey clouds pulling in and thunder rumbling so hard, you could feel it in your chest. The next time you happened to pass in front of the foyer window you had seen that Eddie and his crew were quickly gone, not expecting the change in weather events.

Relaxation began to sag its relief at your shoulders, no longer feeling like a prisoner in your own home. It was a long time coming, you hadn't felt this much relief in your system since that after that Hargrove heir you briefly dated back in '06.

A knock pulled you out of your thoughts, Robin's image immediately popping up into your mind. It was probably time for her to finally confront you, bring Steve into it somehow and blame the Benzos for acting the way you had been lately. (It had nothing to do with it.)

You threw open the door, the weight of it slightly swinging your body. Your eyes didn't meet the person at first, an infamous eye roll already on the verge, "Rob, I don’t want to t—Oh."

It was Eddie in all his glory, T-shirt glued to his body from the rain that began to pour, curls beginning to hang loosely from the bun he wore, cheeks red and flushed. He breathed heavy upon seeing you, a smile ghosting his lips.

"Hi, hun," his voice was low, a slight hint of something in it.

You didn't know what to say, glancing behind you as if there was anyone to catch you for even thinking terrible thoughts. His eyes followed yours.

"Well, can I come in?"

"Oh." You swung the door a little wider, cringing at the way his work boots tracked in water from outside.

He shook out his hair like a dog, the droplets dampening you from afar. You didn't have the nerve to say anything to him, gobsmacked from the fact he was in front of you like a Greek God, beautiful as ever, but tempting in the worst way possible.

"I got stuck outside... truck wouldn't start," he explained, looking around the house as if it were the first time that he was in here. The realization of the scene in front of you finally caught up, you rushing to action to try and be the welcoming host that you always were.

"I think... here, come, Steve should have something you could change into," you said, beginning to lead him upstairs. You stopped at the base of the spiral staircase, pointing at his boots. "You better not."

He beamed at your words, quirking his eyebrow at you as if you said the funniest thing ever. Toeing them off quietly, he then followed your lead to your upstairs bedroom. He stared at you all while doing it, the tension in the room growing even at the thought of him undressing even slightly.

The track there felt like you were walking the green mile, Eddie close behind you as you lead him to the walk-in closet. He was silent, the only sounds of his breathing giving him away.

Back to him, you opened the panel hiding Steve's lounging clothes, rows of white and creme and pastel materials appearing. You felt his presence behind you, something like a predator creeping on its prey.

"I think he's—what are you, a size f—" Your breath hitched on your throat as you felt his fingers touch your forearms, guiding your hands down from the clothing.

His lips brushed the cartilage of your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Tilting your head to the side, your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him finally touching you.

His hand trailed up your arm, snaking around your exposed neck, a light kiss being pressed to the skin in front of your ear. You leaned your head back against him, a cut off groan leaving you as you relished in this moment.

"I've been waiting on this, hun," He whispered, reaching one hand down to your waist to pull you flush against him.

You gasped at the feeling of him against your backside, his body just as firm as you expected. The other hand cupped against the bottom of your chin, tilting your head back even further so his lips could press into the junction of your neck.

"You've looked so good," he continued. "So tempting."

Your hands reached up to grab at his arm, your ass pushing even further into him. He walked backwards with you in his grasp, falling against the large ottoman in the center of the closet. It was big enough to seat the two of you, his large frame sprawled in the center of it while you sat petite in his lap, legs on either side of his, back pressed into his chest.

"I can't believe Stevie leaves you here. All alone. So vulnerable."

A whimper left your mouth as he leaned back slightly, pulling you with him. The hand that was once around your waist snaked down to your front, dipping down into the front of your silk sleep shorts.

"Eddie." You whimpered, his name coming out in a choke as he ghosted over your clit.

He was teasing in his movements, bringing you right to the precipice of pleasure. The second he got close to pressing down firm and just right, he would remove his touch, only to ghost down lower to tease your dampening hole.

"What do you need?"

You groaned, spreading your legs further as he continued in his movements. Knowing exactly what he wanted, you wanted to refuse to give in, refuse to have yourself beg for him. But it had been months after all, the only human touch you'd experience was from yourself.

"I need you."

It was a quiet whine into the room, almost inaudible behind the heavy breathing. That one word was all that he needed, his hand fully pressing into your cunt, swirling your clit in a way that had your head spinning.

The choked sob that left your mouth earned a groan of his own, loud and just as wanting as your own. Your head was leaned back against him, your neck exposed, mouth wide open and turned towards the ceiling.

Eddie's mouth was sucking and licking along your neck, his heavy breathing tickling at your spine as he dipped a finger to press into you, thumb circling your clit. The digit stretched you wide, wetness pooling down onto his hand.

"You get this wet just for me?"

Your hips were grinding against his hand, wanting more from him as he finger fucked you.

"Eddie please."

"I know, hun, I know." He removed his hand from you, standing you up and off his lap. You whimpered at the loss of contact, squeezing your legs together as he was sprawled in front of you.

He reached his hands towards you, stopping at the hem of your tank top to pull it up and over you, exposing your naked breasts to him. A glimmer of arousal appeared in his eyes, his teeth dug into his bottom lip as he stared at your chest, hand reaching up to cup at the globes. Leaning up, he took one nipple into his mouth from his seated position, licking and sucking at the hardened nub.

It was like you found yourself in heaven, sudden pleasure finding you all at once. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pulled him into your chest even further, whining at the contact of his mouth on your skin.

He traded onto the other nipple, squeezing the abandoned one between his fingers. He moaned in between the loud sucking, making a show of how much he loved the taste of you.

Pulling away, his fingers found the hem of your shorts. The material pooled down at your feet, your stark nakedness becoming apparent in the giant room against his clothed body.

He drank you in, his eyes roaming your body as you stood in front of him.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he groaned, shaking his head in disbelief.

He reached down to his pants, unbuttoning the jeans and sliding down the zipper ever so slowly. It was torture, watching him undress himself, the slide of his jeans down his legs, dropping down to his ankles with his boxers to follow.

He pulled his shirt over his head, spreading his legs wide as he leaned back on the ottoman. His cock was fully free, springing to full attention as he took a hold of it. Dropping your eyes down to ogle at the sheer beauty of it, head dripping wet with precum, long and thick with a vein running down the middle.

Eddie smirked at your fascination, ushering you closer to him with the curve of his finger.

You took a seat on his lap, legs caging him in as you settled over his cock, head pressing at your entrance. As he pressed in slightly, your eyes bulged slightly, realizing that in no way you were not prepared for his size.

His lips pursed into a shushing motion, "Shh, hun, it's okay."

He guided your hips down onto him, pressing deep into you. The feeling of his cock split you wide open, a strained moan pouring out of you. Your fingers wrapped around his neck, gripping at him to ease the stretch you were feeling.

Giving you only a second of breathing time, he gripped at your waist, urging you up and down on his shaft, thrusting into you shallowly.

He hit you deep, hitting every spot you forgot was inside of you, pleasure creeping through your body.

"F-fuck Eddie," your moans were load in the room, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass growing louder as he became more brutal in his movement.

Pulling you against him, he slotted his lips with yours, harshly nipping at the skin, sinking his teeth into your lips, sucking your tongue into his mouth. You were lost in the pleasure, soaking wet around him as he fucked into you.

His fingers were splayed across your hips, dipping onto the curve of your ass as you bounced on his cock. Your orgasm was approaching quick, a lot quicker than you had imagined.

"You wanna cum for me, babe?" He mouthed against you, lips not leaving yours as your vision began to fog.

The curve of his cock hit your spongey wall repeatedly, urging completion suddenly. Your body began to tense up, legs shaking as you approached your high, cock-drunk on this feeling.

"Eds, I'm go—"

Your orgasm washed over you, tensing your spine as he fucked you through it, clit throbbing as it brushed that thatch of hair as the base of his cock. He was quick to follow, pulling out just in time to come over you, painting white over the bottom of your stomach.

It was messy, dripping over the two of you as the come down approached you. You took a moment, breathing deeply as your eyes briefly shut, head falling against his shoulder while you relaxed into him.

He was breathless, wrapping his arms around you to settle into your lap.

"I've been waiting on this a while," he admitted, sighing deep into your neck. You nodded at his words, agreeing, yet speechless for the mind-blowing orgasm you had just experienced.

He leaned back, pressing a small kiss to your mouth before looking into your eyes, head leaning against your own.

"Round two? I could use a shower."

He laughed at your words, shock evident in his eyes at your boldness, but jumping at the opportunity, throwing your body over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

As the dreary weather settled outside, you couldn't be more thankful for the turn of events. There was a long night ahead of you.

The morning light crept through the drawn curtains, your naked body sprawled out against the white sheets. Drawing slowly into consciousness, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, reaching beside you.

The bed was cold, Eddie's figure obviously missing from your side for who knows how long.

Memories of last night came flooding back to you, the positions that he had you in bringing out the soreness in your body. There were visions of you propped up against the shower wall, your legs thrown over his shoulders, pressed to your chest, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, until you couldn't give any more.

Draping the bed sheet around your naked body, you sat up in bed, perking up at the smell of fresh coffee brewing. There was a skip in his step as you heard him coming down the hall, energy coming back to you as you imagined what was to come, breakfast in bed, getting bent in between courses.

Your smile dropped from your face as you saw him, large cup in hand as he made his way into the room. Steve.

His perfectly styled brown hair, that charming smile as he stared at you, raising his eyebrows as he saw you relaxed in bed. Your nakedness seemed like a lot, even in the privacy of your own shared bedroom.

"There's my girl," he smiled, placing the mug down on the bedside table before leaning over to press a kiss to your forehead. Your hand subconsciously came up to cover the side of your neck, dark purple bruises had to have been there from the events of last night.

"S-Steve, what are you doing here?"

He fake pouted, a scoff leaving his mouth. "Three months, and that's all you got?"

The sudden realization that your husband was right here hit you, a smile crossing your features as you wrapped your arms around him. He collapsed on top of you, laughing loudly as you attacked him with kisses, your lips covering every inch of skin that you could find.

"Relax, relax," he cackled, pressing his own kisses to you in between attacks.

Pulling away, he took a good look at you, the most loving smile covering his face. Guilt found you, pooling deep in your chest and the pit of your stomach. Your loving husband, being away to support you, only to come home and find his wife in this position, a classic case of infidelity.

"Steve," your voice fell short as you stared into his auburn eyes. His brow furrowed, his thumb coming up to swipe at your eyebrow, smoothing the crinkled skin.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I just—" Cue the dramatics. Tears began to well in your eyes as you processed the situation, he didn't deserve this. There was nothing he could do to calm you down, the hitching of your breath in your throat, the choked sob leaving your mouth as you struggled over the words to say.

"Did you miss me that much?"

You choked even harder at his words, pulling you into his arms as your vision became blurry. It was getting even worse for you.

"Baby..." There was a warning tone in his words, his patience growing thin as you wouldn't let up. You brought yourself together, hiccuping slightly as you stared up into his eyes. Your mouth opened and closed, the words to say leaving you.

You didn't need to say anything as his eyes finally decided to trail lower than your face, noticing the dark bruises forming along the side of your neck. His eyebrows raised slightly as the rest of his face remained emotionless, his thumb tracing over the skin.

"I don't know what to say," you said, hanging your head away from him. You couldn't look him in the eyes as he studied the hickies left behind from Eddie.

"I see you got my present," he whispered, running the pad of his finger over your neck.

Your head shot up to look at him, eyes wide and confused.

"You-what are you...? Steve—what?" You didn't know what to say to him, confused on what was even happening right now. He was so stoic, you couldn't read him. His eyes found yours, humor in his eyes.

"Eddie. My present."

There was a moment of silence as you processed his words, memories of the past few weeks knowing the mentioned man passing through your mind. Realization hit you, knowing that this man in front of you was so calculated, everything had to have been him.

"Why didn't you say anything!" You wanted to kill him, but wanted to kiss him at the same time.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he shrugged, smirking at you as relief crossed over your face. You wiped the hot tears that had streaked your cheeks, embarrassed of the thought you could even betray him.

"How did you even—are you sure this wasn't a test I just failed?"

He laughed at your words, shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "I promise, baby."

You sighed in relief as he kissed you, fingers underneath your chin to pull you closer into him. Kissing this man felt like a dream that would've never came true, a surprise of your life time brought to its fullest extent.

His mouth was as soft as you remembered, taste as sweet as the last time. All those months of anticipation were worth the wait, feeling like it was truly nothing.

He leaned over your body, pressing you down into the mattress as the sheet began to fall away from your body. With your fingers pulling open the button down he wore, his chest became exposed, firm muscle rippling underneath your touch.

"You beat me to it, Stevie."

A gasp left you as you pulled away from your husband, head craning towards the door. Eddie stood in the frame, white bath towel draped loosely over his hips, hair dripping wet from a shower. He took in the sight of the two of you tangled on the bed, Steve's shirt hanging half off of him, the sheet gone from your body.

Glancing up at the man above you, you saw the smirk he was giving Eddie, canines exposed. It was like you were looking at someone completely different from the man you've known for years, an evil, sexually driven person in front of you.

"You going to stand there, Munson or...?"

With a smirk of his own, he was headed over to you two, towel dropping from his body. His cock was already hard and heavy between his legs, dripping with anticipation as he threw himself on the bed. Immediately, his hands found your body, headed straight towards your hard nipples with his mouth quick to follow.

A strangled moan escaped you as the shock settled over, Steve leaning up on his knees to get rid of his pants.

The belt was thrown across the room, his eyes not leaving the two of you once as he undressed.

"Wait—" You breathed, pushing Eddie off of you. The two men stared down at you, scared of your next move, that you would end whatever this was right now. You looked towards Steve, eyebrows raised. "Are you okay with this?"

Steve's eyebrows raised as he glanced in between the two of you, his hand pulling his dick out of his boxers, pushed down to his thigh. Your eyes dropped down to take view, mouth watering at the sight.

"Let's just say... we have a history of sharing."

He winked at Eddie before diving between your legs, nose immediately pressed to your cunt. You didn't have time to even think about what he said, figuring that it was a topic to explore at a much later time.

His tongue quickly found your clit, circling the nub before licking up the length of your slit. Your thighs squeezed the side of his head, a whine filling the room as Eddie sat up to stare at the show. His own hand tangled in Steve's mane, pulling him closer to you as he sopped you up. The groan he let out vibrated against your core, urging another wave of wetness out of you.

"F-fuck Ste-"

You couldn't even get the words out as his finger pressed at your hole, pushing in a single digit. It curled against your wall, pressing into your pleasure point. Your head was thrown back into the pillows against the headboard, white hot pleasure tingling at your spine.

Eddie leaned down to lick at your nipple, eyes intently watching Steve suck at your cunt, chin growing more wet from your juices.

"Baby-please-"

He nodded, glancing up to make eye contact with the two of you. Not moving, he inserted another finger into you, moving at a faster pace. You whimpered even louder, spreading your legs wider to get him deeper inside of you.

"You want to share?" Eddie laughed, sitting up to stroke at his hard cock. A pearl of white beaded at the tip, squeezed out by the cuff of his hand.

Steve smirked around your clit, pulling away at the retort as he pulled you up to meet him. Turning you around, you were maneuvered to your hands and knees, ass pressed into the air. He ran the head of his cock against your hole, dragging it up over your ass and back down to your cunt, pressing at the sensitive hole.

Hissing at the feeling, you were still sore from the multiple rounds you went with Eddie the previous night.

"You had her all night, 's my turn, Munson," Steve breathed, pressing to the hilt in a smooth motion. The two of you groaned as he fully pressed into you. He paused in his movements, hand pressed to the small of your back as you both adjusted.

Eddie shrugged, moving in front of you with his legs splayed wide open, hand stroking his shaft.

You knew what to do, leaning down onto your elbows to take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking at it. His hand gripped the back of your head, pushing you down farther than you expected. The gag that left your mouth filled the room, catching Steve off guard as his hips stuttered inside of you.

"Watch it," he hissed, pausing only slightly before pulling out and pressing back in all the way. His cock had a curve in it, damn near pressing into your cervix as he fucked you.

Eddie was smirking, hand still on your head as you began to bob your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

You were so filled on both ends, you were seeing stars. Both men in your presence were making you feel like you had lost it, the heavy alcohol consumption over the past few months maybe had really gotten to you.

Your hand trailed off of Eddie's dick, dropping down to cup at his balls, rolling them between your fingers. Eddie's head fell against the headboard, his hips stuttering as you took him into your mouth.

With every thrust of Steve's hips, you were rocked into the tattooed man in front of you, choking down further and further. It was all becoming a little too much, both holes being filled beyond your limits.

"Just like that, baby, fuck," Steve moaned, hand inching up your spine to rest at the top of your spine. He leaned over, forcing your legs a little wider so his cock pressed even further into you. His hand found the base of your neck, pushing your head even further onto Eddie.

The motion had Eddie groaning, hips suddenly spilling as he came, warm liquid spurting down your throat. It had you choking, pulling off of him in time for it to spill out of your mouth, dripping back down onto him. The entire moment was so dirty, so filthy, it caused a chain reaction, Steve pressing into you once, twice more before cumming deep.

You pulsed around him, squeezing tight as your own orgasm took over you. For a split moment, you think you passed out, vision blurring, going black briefly before you came to, laying down on your stomach, legs shaking.

Your hand came to wipe at your eyes, tears pooling at the corners from the high you just experienced. There was no way you were coming down from this, the purest form of pleasure you think you'd ever experienced.

Eddie was leaning against the headboard, cock swelling down after his spend, his hand running over your skin as you leaned against his thigh. Steve was half way on you, his own breath catching from the high.

"You okay there, hun?"

Eddie's voice was raspy, his eyes wandering over you and your husband. Nodding, you threw him a shaky thumbs up, not finding the words to even utter a syllable.

Steve laughed, running his hand over your spine. It found the base of your spine, squeezing the globe of your ass.

"I think she will be after a few more rounds."

nothing more. all I have to say on this. hope you guys enjoyed this lengthy piece of pure smut. lol xx

masterlist. <3

[lyjen]

North west corner

Summary: When the 118 gets to a factory fire, Evan and (Y/n) get stuck in side of the building. Revealing quite a surprise.

Next chapter >> | 9-1-1 Masterlist

The team 118 was spread over the three rigs they owned, there was engine, ladder and the ambulance 118. Hen and Chimney were in the ambulance, while Bobby, Buck, Eddie and (Y/n) were in the ladder rig.

They were just on their way back to the firehouse as dispatch tried to connect with them. “Engine 118, ladder 118 and ambulance 118, Factory fire at 4545 West Caroll.” Sounded through the radio they had pinned to their chests.

As soon as they received the message, they grabbed their headsets and put them on their heads. And the ladder’s truck sirens were switched to on. Eddie was talking with Buck about some new restaurant down town. Meanwhile, (Y/n) was staring outside the window.

She wasn’t completely present. She had been feeling nauseous this morning, she couldn’t keep anything down. So she was basically performing on an empty stomach.

Completely lost in thought she flinched when her boyfriend who was sitting next to her, patted his hand on her knee to get her attention. She didn’t notice Evan asked her a question. A worried look spread on his face. “Huh?” Came out of her mouth. Evan’s hand was now rubbing up and down on her thigh.

“I asked if you were feeling okay?” (Y/n) nodded. “Yeah… Yeah I’m fine, just daydreaming” she answered him with a slight smile. While (Y/n) received another confused look from her brother who sat diagonally across from Evan. “Are you sure?” Eddie jumped in. The only thing (Y/n) was nod, and continued watching the streets they went rushing by. Brushing off the worried looks of her boyfriend and brother.

She was fine. They didn’t need to worry about her, just a little nausea wouldn’t hurt a soul. Am I right?

(Y/n) felt how the ladder truck came to a stop. Eddie went out on one side of the truck, and (Y/n) hopped out on the other side. She felt how Evan followed her steps. Both his hands resting on her shoulders as he jumped out of the vehicle. Evan took place next to her, putting his arm around her.

He closed the distance between them, his mouth moving towards her ear. “If there is something wrong, you know you can tell me. Right?” He whispered quietly. She nodded. “There’s nothing wrong.” she continued. And planted a kiss on his cheek and walked out of his grip.

As she was walking forward, she saw multiple victims running out of the building. Watching how the flames took over the factory building.

Bobby stood in front of his team, ready to shout orders. Evan and (Y/n) joined the group of firefighters. “Okay! Dispatch said there are still some trapped workers inside, they didn’t say how much. But I don’t like this smoke, so get a hose line in there. Be quick on this one, I’m saying four minutes tops! Hen, Chim, set up triage! Eddie, Buck, (Y/n), you go get those workers out of there! Let’s go!” Bobby’s voice tried to reach his crew. “On it cap!”

The ladder team opened up the compartment where they storaged the tanks, got them out and put them on their back. (Y/n) felt a feeling of discomfort crawling in her arms when she put on the tank on her back, but she ignored it. Maybe it was just a pulled muscle, a wrong movement she made.

Evan took a moment to take a glance at his girlfriend, he knows something is wrong. He could tell, she hadn’t been eating all day and she was absent. Those weren’t things she did on the regular basis. For now, he’d let it slide, they had to get inside to get the last victims out of that building. Hurriedly Evan put his mask on like the others and walked towards the entrance of the building.

When they got in the building, flames were literally everywhere. The flames were surrounding them. “LAFD! Call out!” They tried to call through their masks while also trying to get above the sound of the fire.

Repeatedly they called out that familiar sentence. Waiting for someone to respond while they did a quick sweep. They only had 4 minutes, that’s how much they got from Bobby. In one of the halls, they found one of the missing workers. The man was covered in ashes, and coughing as he couldn’t breathe through the thickness of the smoke. “Hey over here!” Buck called out as he was the first one to discover the man.

Evan lowered down to help the man stand on his own two feet. Eddie stopped him. “I got him! You two go look for others!” Eddie spoke as he took over the injured man from Evan. Eddie slung the man’s arm over his shoulder, giving him the support he needed and tried to make his way back out of the burning building. “Chim, Hen, I’m coming out with one victim!” Eddie spoke through his radio.

Eddie walked through the exit, what was also the entrance of the building. He handed the man over to Hen, so she could check him out and give him the treatment he needed.

Evan and (Y/n) tried to sweep the level for more injured employees. Although (Y/n) was in a burning building, she had a cold sweat dripping over her face and over her back. Her vision went blurry, but she tried to blink it away and follow Evan’s shadow. It could be the lack of energy, she didn’t eat all day. That could be the reason, right?

They entered an office, Buck entered first, searching the office. As (Y/n) tried to steady herself on the doorframe of the office. Trying to catch her breath. Her vision didn’t change. She was still sweating and her breaths became more rapid. She felt like she had run a marathon, but all she did was sweep the building together with her boyfriend. “LAFD! Call out!” Evan’s voice filled her eardrums again.

Bobby was outside, trying to estimate the situation “I don’t like this smoke! I want all firefighters to evacuate the building immediately!” Bobby called through his radio as he sees big clouds of dark grey smoke come out of the factory.

Buck searches the last part of the office, and made up his conclusion. “No one here, we’re coming out now!” Buck called through his radio. Buck turns on his heels, and saw his girlfriend standing in the doorway. “Come on let’s go!” He tried to motivate her.

She felt weak as if every piece of energy was sucked out of her in that little time. Her eyelids were becoming heavy, it took to many energy to keep her eyes open. She really tried to keep herself awake. But she couldn’t. Her heartbeat was ringing in her ears, together with her breathing.

Her knees buckled and she fell down on the floor. Letting gravity doing its work and pull her down to the ground.

“(Y/n)!” he yells out. He couldn’t even notice wat was happening.

He rushes towards his girlfriend and let himself flop down next to her side. “(Y/n)?? (Y/n)??” He panics. He doesn’t know what to do. His hand fell onto his radio, “Mayday, mayday! Firefighter down! I repeat firefighter down!” Buck sounded through the radio.

“Buck what’s going on?” He heard Eddie ask on the radio, his voice was full of worry. Eddie knew that the only firefighter who could be down, was (Y/n) since Evan was the one to speak through the radio. They both were the last ones to pull out of the building. The rest of the team was already outside of the building waiting for orders from the captain.

“Buck?!” Eddie repeated over the radio, almost crushing his radio with his bare hand. Evan put two of his fingers in her neck, and tried to search for her pulse. He couldn’t feel it. He couldn’t find her damn pulse. With trembling hands he reached out to his radio, and clicked in the button they used to speak. “I.. I think she’s having a heart attack” he spoke through the radio.

Eddie’s eyes went wide as he heard Evan’s response. He looked at Bobby. “What’s your location Buck?” Bobby spoke into his radio.

Eddie, who already had put his helmet back on, ready for his sign to go in, looked at Bobby with pain in his eyes. How was it possible that his damn’ sister was having a heart attack? She was twenty two. How does a twenty two year old get a heart attack?

“Bobby we have to get them!” Eddie tried to convince Bobby to let him go in. He was desperate to help his sister. “Eddie Stand down.” Is the only thing what came out of Bobby’s mouth. Bobby couldn’t let Eddie go in that fire hazard. It wasn’t safe.

Evan noticed how the fire came closer to them. “(Y/n)!” He called one more time, desperate to get her awake again. “Shit!” He cursed to himself as his attempt to get her awake again didn’t work. He stood up from (Y/n)’s side, and grabbed the handle they used to get the tanks to sit in place on a back of a person. He put both of his hands on the two straps which were holding the tank of his girlfriend into place. And he dragged her towards the office, which hasn’t caught fire yet.

Another explosion took place in the factory Evan and (Y/n) were in. Evan had to perform CPR, and find a way out. If he waited any longer, he could lose his girlfriend, and his best friend’s sister. “I’m starting CPR now!” He yelled through his radio. Evan didn’t bother to open her florescent jacket, it was too risky. The fire was already coming for them both. He had to do this now, he couldn’t lose more time. Evan locked his fingers together, straightened his elbows and pushed down his hands against (Y/n)’s chest.

“Come on baby, come on!” He tried to motivate her to come back to reality as he continued to push down on her chest. “You’re not allowed to do this (Y/n). You can’t go anywhere.”

Why didn’t Evan notice something sooner, he knew something was wrong. He knew she wasn’t okay and should’ve stopped her as soon as they came on scene.

But now here he was, performing CPR on his own girlfriend in a burning building.

Eddie turned towards Bobby. “Bobby, please you have to let me back in there! That’s my sister!” Tears were welling in his eyes. His heart was pounding as if it tried to break free out of his chest. It almost felt like he was having a heart attack himself.

Bobby gave Eddie a thoughtful look, he was actually considering Eddies request to go back in there. He couldn’t let them die in there. They were his family. And he needed to get them back to safety. The silence was ear deafening. He looked at Chimney and Hen, and then back at Eddie.

“Okay Eddie, let’s go!” Bobby reached out to get an oxygen tank and mask. Bobby put on his gear, as did Eddie. When they were all geared up, they hurried towards the entrance of the building. When another explosion took over the scene. Fire roared in front of the entrance.

Eddie was screaming out so loud, that he couldn’t notice how hard he was screaming. Bobby grabbed his upper arm and pulled him back from the entrance.

Eddie tried to break free of the hold Bobby got him in, he needed to safe his sister and Buck. Tears were leaving his eyes. He didn’t even think it was possible to have that many tears.

Bobby’s hand reached his radio. “Buck, the entrance is blocked. Put her on your shoulder if you have to. But you get the hell out of there, do you hear me!” Bobby ordered Evan.

Evan was putting all of his strength into getting his girlfriend back to life. He was pretty sure he heard and felt a few ribs cracking. He was exhausted. But he couldn’t give up. Tears were rolling down his face.

Buck stopped his compressions when he reached yet another thirty and slumped over her body to try and feel her pulse.

Nothing.

Evan threw off his oxygen mask, and gently took hers off too. His face was covered in ashes, drenched in sweat with a mix of his tears. He put his mouth over hers, and breathed into her lungs 2 times. Normally they wouldn’t do this. They had a rescue breath mask for that. But right now, he had to try this. He wouldn’t stop until he tried everything he could.

“(Y/n), if you can hear me. You have to wake up! And get the hell out that building!” Eddie tried to motivate her, even though she might not be able to hear him.

Evan interlaces his fingers again and put his fists on her chest again. Going for another round of chest compressions. Buck was blinking away the tears that were dripping off his cheeks onto (Y/n)’s florescent jacket. Gasping for breaths as he continued CPR. Meanwhile Buck was scanning the area he was in, trying to figure out how to get the hell out of this hell hole.

He was focusing himself on her chest, counting each push he gave her chest. Evan’s eyes shot to her eyes when he heard a gasp for breath, desperate for oxygen. She coughed as if she wanted her lungs to leave her body. He took his hands off her chest. “Hey! Hey! You’re fine, you’re okay!” Evan trying to reassure her, putting her face between his hands.

With one hand, he grabbed her oxygen mask and put it back on her face. Her chest was hurting from the pressure Evan used to get her back to life.

Evan noticed a door in the back of the office. He was silently hoping it was a staircase with a fire exit.

They had no time to waste. Evan and (Y/n) needed to get the hell out of that building. Evan could tell (Y/n) was too weak to hold herself up. He put back on his own oxygen mask and put his left arm underneath her lower back, his right arm found its way around her thighs and he hoisted her up in his arms.

Buck hurried forward towards the back door in the office. He turned his back to the door, and kicked his leg back to open the door.

Through the door, a beam of daylight welcomed Evan. There was a window. It was a kind of back office. Evan put back a chair with his feet and set (Y/n) down in it for a moment. He ran towards the window and searched around for anything he could smash the window with. But there was nothing usefull, not a damn thing. The room was already filling itself up with dark grey smoke. Evan didn’t have a choice. He had to break the window with his hands. Without thinking, Evan smashed his arm through the glass, immediately breaking the rest of the old window.

“Buck. Status update.” Bobby ordered Evan through his radio. The radio went silent. No answer from Evan nor (Y/n).

“Baby I am sorry, I need to do this.” He told (Y/n) as he fully ignored Bobby through the radio. The flames were already taking over the small walls of the back office.

He grabbed (Y/n)’s right arm with his left arm, lowered himself down and put his right arm around her thighs. And he hoisted (Y/n) over his shoulder as he fast made his way through the window with (Y/n) dangling over his shoulder.

Another explosion took over the building. The roof started to come down, as Evan tightly held (Y/n) in position.

Eddie felt his heart beating in his throat. He was pretty sure he was about to throw up. His eyes were on the entrance of the building as another loud bang sounded through the air. Bobby was trying to get in touch with Evan and (Y/n). “Buck. What’s your status?” Bobby called again through the radio. Nothing but noise from the frequency sounded through the radio.

Eddie stepped back. He put both his hands in his hair and was pretty sure he pulled some strands of hair from his scalp. He looked up at the sky, as he tried to stop the tears from falling down his face.

Bobby tried to radio Buck one more time. “Buck what-“ he couldn’t finish his sentence as he saw movement next to the building. Evan’s broad frame came in to his sight. “Eddie!” Bobby called out when he clearly saw Buck rushing towards them with (Y/n) over his shoulder. Eddie’s eyes shot towards Bobby, and then to the person Bobby was pointing at.

“Chim I need a gurney over here!” Before Bobby could even finish his sentence, Chimney came running down with a gurney with Eddie right behind him. “And get a hose line and water tank on that building!” Bobby continued shouting his orders.

When Evan reached the gurney, he slowly sat (Y/n) down on the gurney. While Bobby tried to take off the oxygen tank off her back, Eddie helped to gently take off her oxygen mask. Evan also took off his mask and let his gloved hand slide over his girlfriend’s cheek while she was coughing. He stepped back to give Chimney the space he needed to examine (Y/n).

Chimney held a light in front of her eyes. Asking her to follow it with her eyes. (Y/n) weakly tried to slap back his hand. “I’m fine” she groaned, and pushed herself up to get off the gurney when her knees buckled again. Eddie catches her just in time before her body met the floor again.

Evan rushed to her other side, next to Eddie. While Eddie and Evan try to push the female firefighter back on the gurney. She tries to push them both back. “Hey! Hey! Hey! (Y/n). Stop. Please.” Evan tries to stop her.

She stopped pushing them both. Evan took a step closer towards his girlfriend who was sitting on the gurney now. He carefully took one of her hands in his. “I know you’re not fine. I knew it from the beginning you stepped out of that ladder truck.” He confessed. He wasn’t that stupid. “I could see it on the look on your face. This past week, you’ve been acting so strange. So please, tell me. What’s going on. A twenty two year old doesn’t get a heart attack just like that.”

A silence fell. (Y/n) her eyes fell down looking at her hands. One of them was holding Evan’s. She squeezed her eyes shut. Trying to avoid the waterfall of tears, that was trying to make its way outside of her tear ducts.

She sighed.

“I’m pregnant Buck, that’s what’s been going on.”

[alien-magnolia]

Older! Eddie Munson x hyperfeminine! housewife! Reader : quick headcanons/ideas <3

18+ MDNI

Tw: big, girthy age gap :) (early 40’s /early 20’s), service kink!, sub!-coded fem reader, dom-coded Eddie munson, leashes!, obedience!!, etc

——

——

Marrying Edward Munson was most likely the best milestone of your life. The dull and bitter taste of Hawkins, Indiana had become bright and full of color!!

Your Eds has bought you a quaint, small, yet spacious enough home, in which you decorated with beige tones and tropical accents — plants, gold, mirrored walls, and topped it all off with a wooden kitchen. He provided for you as well, spending the usual nine to five workday facing the elements as a local construction worker. At exactly 5:10 each evening, he would come home to greet his babygirl. You were ever so ready!

He comes through the door, sawdust covered boots sprinkling dirt on the fuzzy carpet. You rush up to greet him, and you were met with a “hey babydoll,” and a swift strong arm picking you up to his lap.

With you clinging onto him like a little koala, he undresses his clothes, and then puts on a loose muscle tee with boxers <3!

“ how’s my little girl doing today, hmm? Tell me, doll,” a prompt from him was all it took for you to enthusiastically describe your day!! His patronizing smile made your “little kitty” as he called it, gush!!

You tell him about your cooking, your laundry, and how much you missed him, your daddy <3!

“Missed you too. How’s about your daddy shows you how much he missed his doll?,” his hairy forearms and calloused fingers grip your plush waist so tightly. He pulls you into his lap, and you feel his throbbing bulge press up against your mound. “Wet f’me?,” he taunts. You nod, your manicured hands clawing up his wide back and shoulders.

“Babygirl needs her leash and collar, yeah?,” he tuts at you, putting them on. His calloused fingers grab the O ring in the center of your collar, pulling the leash a bit. “There we go, sweets. Ready for daddy to play with. <3”

You could only drool and nod!

Your pretty tits pressed up against his hairy chest, his so so masculine hands squeezing your soft belly and hips until it HURT, and you rocking yourself on his bulge.

One thing you loved about Eddie, was that he was big. He was around five inches yes, but in width, goodness <3 it hurt to take him every time! He was wider than your hand, and would tut at you everytime your pretty pussy took that wide cock and huge balls of his.

So here you were, doing just that, clinging onto him, whining, as his girthy length stuffed you full. Belt buckle on the floor, your plush thighs against his tatted ones, his ringed hand on your ankle, which had a little ‘E’ tattoo on it.

Eddie actually gave you the tattoo himself, a few months ago, gently holding your ankle while working on the tattoo. You said it hurt but your Eds kept praising you for being so brave! <3 After he bandaged your new initial tattoo, he gave you your reward for being his “brave girl,” which was his cock stuffing you full for hours on end. <3

“Pussy’s just purring f’me, sweetheart. Look at that. She loves my cock, doesn’t she now?,” Eddie cooed at you as he bounced you on his girth. You could only whine and nod as you felt his balls, heavy and full, plap’ and slap against your wet cunt.

He came in you, of course, because you were his. The tattoo, the ring, the leash and collar, the part where he breeds his little wife, all signs that you belonged to him. You loved being his pretty little wife, spending the days at home, waiting for her husband.

It was all worth the wait <3

A/n: tysm for reading! If you like it pls comment or reblog it means a lot to me <3 -Liz

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: Thanksgiving brings back memories of happier times, and all you want is to recreate the past. But when those plans go awry, Eddie--and Harris, of course--are there to help you look forward to the future.

Warnings: mentions of Eddie's parents, brief familial conflict, Reader's grandma has dementia, most of this chapter is fluffy tbh

WC: 6.8k

Chapter 8/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Thanksgiving, 1975

The sound of the kitchen timer beeping draws nine-year-old Eddie Munson’s attention from the television set. The local news network had been replaying the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on a loop. It was now the third time that Eddie had watched Santa Claus make his way into Herald Square in a comically oversized sleigh, but he couldn’t get enough of it. The colorful balloons that hovered over the crowd, the marching bands playing in perfect unison, the feeling of excitement in the air—it was palpable all the way from his new home in Hawkins, Indiana. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Wayne announces, grabbing the worn mitt off of the counter and pulling two TV dinners from the oven. “‘S not much, but at least we got turkey and mashed potatoes,” he bashfully adds. 

Eddie nods, trying to walk without taking his eyes off of the screen. 

Wayne’s bushy brows pinch together as he watches his nephew. “You always get this into the parade?” he asks. 

“Never seen it before,” Eddie says softly. His parents had had a TV for a couple of years until they’d pawned it, but he doesn’t recall ever watching a parade. “Pretty cool.”

“We can keep it on while we eat, if ya want,” Wayne tells him, smiling when he sees the boy’s face light up. He places the plastic trays on the snack table and heads back to grab forks. “Ya got a favorite balloon? I’m partial to Snoopy, if y’ask me.”

Eddie nods, still transfixed on the TV. “Yeah, Snoopy’s good. I like him.” He takes the utensil from Wayne’s outstretched hand, absentmindedly dipping it in the congealed mashed potatoes. He pauses for a beat before bringing it to his lips. “Do I have to go back?”

“Hm?” Wayne mumbles, too focused on his own food to fully hear him. 

“Do I have to go back with them when they get out?” Eddie repeats, keeping his voice low and training his gaze on the floor. “‘Cause I like it better here. With you. ‘S nice and quiet.”

There’s a lurch in Wayne’s chest at Eddie’s request. “Technically, I only have ya till your folks are sprung,” he admits, scratching a nail against the table, “but I can talk to a lawyer or somethin’ about keeping you here longer. Only if you want,” he adds. 

“I wanna stay here,” Eddie confirms, spearing a pale turkey slice and popping it in his mouth without any attempt to cut it. “If it’s okay with you. I can sleep on the cot an’ you can take your bed back.”

Wayne shakes his head. “Room’s yours, Ed.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna promise you that the courts will agree to it, but I’m gonna try my damndest to keep you safe.” And it’s true. He’ll work double overtime at the plant if it’ll cover legal fees. When the social worker dropped Eddie off last week, Wayne had no idea how either of them would adjust. But aside from a few growing pains—like having to shave his nephew’s head when they’d discovered he’d had lice—things seemed to be alright. 

“I, um, I wrote something at school yesterday,” Eddie pipes up, traipsing to his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper. In his sloppy, boyish handwriting is written:

I am thankful for my Uncle Wayne because he takes care of me. He’s really nice and he works hard and he doesn’t mind that I listen to loud music. He also lets me feed my dinner scraps to the stray dogs in his trailer park. My Uncle Wayne is the best. I hope he’s thankful for me, too. 

Wayne feels his throat constrict, and he clears it before Eddie can catch on. “‘Course I’m thankful for ya, Ed,” he manages. He reaches out to put his hand on his nephew’s back, flinching when the boy jerks away nervously. Eddie’s reflex to defend himself rather than embrace touch stirs up a reserved anger Wayne didn’t know he had, and he wills himself to simmer down before his nephew can sense it, lest he think he’s angry at him.  

He slowly brings his hand to the couch cushion, careful not to make too much noise. We’ll get there, he thinks as the parade starts up for a fourth time. We’ll get there. 

Thanksgiving, 1978

Ten years old is a strange age. 

Too old to play with the little kids, but too young to hang around the teenagers or adults. You’re just kind of…there, like a piece of furniture that everyone absently walks around. This hiss of beer cans opening is barely audible over the men shouting at the football game on TV. You don’t know who’s playing, and you don’t really care, but it’s the only place you feel like you’ll be out of the way. Taking a seat on the floor, you remain there generally unnoticed until one of your uncles calls out your name.

“Couldja get me a refill?” Uncle Tim slurs, shaking his empty can of Bud Light to emphasize his request. Before you can respond, he throws a, “thanks, kid” and goes back to yelling at the football players.

It’s not like they can hear you through the screen, you snidely think, but you keep your comment to yourself as you pad into the kitchen. A collection of spices tickles your nose, the mixture of cloves and garlic and thyme and rosemary warming the room. You rummage through the refrigerator until you feel someone bump up against you.

“What are you doing in there?” Your aunt asks, disapproval carving her already sharp features. Her gaze drops to the can in your hand. “Seriously? Trying to sneak beer right in front of us?” she scoffs. 

Grandma quickly becomes aware of the commotion, and she wipes her hand on her sunny yellow apron as she assesses the situation. “Everything okay?” Her soft eyes are concerned, not accusing, and you feel your anxiety slowly dissipating.

“I caught her trying to steal some beer,” your aunt reports proudly, as though she’s caught some serial offender, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Not even a teenager yet and already getting into this kind of trouble.” She shakes her head with a tsk. 

“No, I wasn’t,” you insist, setting your jaw in defiance. “Uncle Tim asked me to get some more for him. That’s all.”

“Tim!” Grandma calls out, tone thick with irritation. “Get over here!”

 Uncle Tim trudges out to the kitchen, head already hung low in anticipation of the tongue-lashing he’s about to receive. He may be a grown man, but his mother can easily put him in his place.

Grandma folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you having your niece fetch your drinks like a barmaid? Your legs broken or something?”

“No,” he mumbles, taking the beer from your hand and haphazardly tossing a “sorry” in your direction before returning to the game.

“C’mere,” Grandma beckons you, crooking her finger to join her at the counter. She’s got a bowl of Granny Smith apples, half of them peeled, their green skins piling on the cutting board in front of her. She hands you the peeler, picking up a sharp knife and cutting a peeled apple lengthwise and cubing each slice. “Help me out. It goes a lot faster when there’s two of us. And it’ll keep you out of trouble,” she adds with a wink.

You grab an unpeeled apple from the pile and drag the tool down its curve, repeating the motion until the inner fruit is exposed before starting on the next one. You and Grandma work in tandem; you peel and she chops in a comfortable silence. As you’re finishing up the last of the bunch, she leans over and whispers in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best helper I’ve ever had.” She starts placing the cubed pieces into a pot, shaking the cinnamon container over it until she takes a satisfied step back, no measuring spoon required. “Mix it together for me?” 

You nod eagerly and pluck the wooden spoon from the canister behind the sink, dunking it into the pot and stirring until the apples are fully coated in cinnamon. “That good?” you ask, giving another stir for good measure.

“Perfect.” Grandma smiles, covering the mixture with water and setting it on an empty burner, twisting the knob until the coil turns red. “Once it softens up, you can mash it. Give these old arms a break,” she teases gently.

“You’re not old!” you protest, and she smacks a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, kiddo,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your scalp. “To the moon and back.”

You wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. “I love you, too. To the moon and back.”

Thanksgiving, 1996

“Daddy, look! It’s Santa!” Harris points at the TV excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch. He kicks his feet and squeals. “He’s gonna come to our house, right? An’ bring me presents?”

Eddie chuckles as he spreads mayonnaise on white bread, layering thin turkey slices on top. Three sandwiches for three Munsons. “I dunno, Har-Bear; have you been good this year?” 

Harris scrunches up his face in contemplation. “Um, I think so,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember.”

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie calls out as his uncle walks out of the bathroom. “Has Harris been good this year? I feel like he’s been a bit…mischievous.”

Wayne shakes his head. “My angel of a grandson? He’s never caused mischief a day in his little life!” He sits down next to Harris, letting out a small grunt as his bottom hits the sofa cushion. 

“Yeah! I never cause mischief a day in my little life!” Harris echoes confidently. He turns to his grandfather. “Grampa, what is Santa gonna bring you for Christmas?”

“A toupée,” Eddie says from the tiny kitchen, piling their plates with potato chips. Normally, he’d make sure there was a fruit or vegetable on there, but it’s a holiday. 

Wayne has to hold his tongue in front of the impressionable young boy, though he shoots Eddie an inconspicuous middle finger when he’s setting the plates on the coffee table. 

The three Munsons tuck into their sandwiches and crunch on the chips. This is how Thanksgiving has been since Eddie moved back with Harris: watching the parade followed by an early lunch so Wayne could pick up a shift at the plant. He always insisted on it, saying that the holiday pay helps offset the cost of Christmas presents. It was quiet, but nice, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else.

“Y’know,” Wayne says to Harris with a mouthful of sandwich, “the first time your Daddy watched the parade was with me. And now, we got to watch it with you.” He bumps his arm against Harris’s, making the boy giggle. 

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie muses, chomping on a potato chip thoughtfully as the memories flood back in. “Forgot about that. Is Snoopy still your favorite, Old Man?” 

Wayne considers this. “Hmm. Who’s our favorite balloon this year, Har?”

“Clifford!” Harris answers without missing a beat, kicking his little legs in excitement. Eddie should’ve known; the boy was damn near obsessed with dogs.

Once we can afford a house with a yard, I’m getting you that puppy, Har-Bear, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare make the promise aloud.

“Then that’s mine, too.” Wayne brushes the crumbs off of his lap, calloused hands scratching the worn denim of his jeans. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “I wonder what Ms. Sweetheart’s favorite balloon is.” He acts like he’s speaking to Harris, but Eddie knows it was aimed at him.

Harris claps his hands together gleefully. “I know! Let’s call her!” He turns to Eddie with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes the man has ever seen, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly in the most precious pout. “Please, Daddy? Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says with a laugh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Once you finish up lunch, we can call her.” Harris opens his mouth to protest that he wants to call right now, but Eddie cuts him off before he can start. “Ah ah; no whining, or we won’t call.”

Harris harrumphs but ultimately complies, taking another bite of his food. Wayne gives Eddie a small thumbs-up, and he preens slightly at the acknowledgment of his parenting win. They didn’t happen very often, and they rarely happened when someone was around to witness them. He takes a long gulp of water; as soon as he does, his son lifts his own cup to his lips and takes a sip. Another reminder that he’s watching, even subconsciously, wanting to be just like his dad.

For a split second, Eddie allows himself to believe that that might not be a bad thing.

“‘M done!” Harris chirps; sure enough, his plate is clean, save for the bread crusts. He squirms a bit in his seat, a gesture that Eddie has come to learn means only one thing.

“Go pee while I find her number,” Eddie tells him, purposely omitting the fact that he’s already committed those seven digits to memory. In case of an emergency, he thinks, and I don’t have the slip of paper on me.

Wayne can sense that his nephew isn’t being completely truthful; as soon as Harris closes the bathroom door behind him, he starts in with a shit-eating grin.

“Y’don’t need to find her number, do ya?”

Eddie flicks off an imaginary speck of dust on his shirts. “Knock it off, Wayne.” But he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, further affirming his uncle’s point.

“Look, Ed,” Wayne exhales, adopting a more serious tone. “You clearly like this girl. I mean, all Harris did was say her name and you smiled–don’t give me that look,” he chastises lightly when Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, but all that seems to be in the past now, right?”

“Guess so,” Eddie mumbles. “But not hating me doesn’t mean she’s into me. Maybe she’s only being nice to me because of Harris.”

The older Munson pauses, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks; his reflex when he’s deep in thought. “One date,” he challenges, holding up his forefinger to emphasize his point. “Ask her on one date, and see where it goes.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, the nerves already churning in his stomach. You’d just found this good rhythm together, and he was going to risk messing it up. Again. “I’ll ask her. But on one condition.”

“Whas’ that?”

“Don’t say anything to Harris.” He crosses his arms over his chest when Wayne chuckles. “‘M serious, Wayne. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. For Chrissakes, I gave her a tape and the kid had us getting married.”

“Fair enough,” Wayne agrees, clamping his mouth shut when he sees the little boy enter the room. “You wash your hands?”

“Yep!”

“With soap?” he presses, narrowing his eyes.

Harris heaves an impatient sigh. “Yes! Can we call now?”

Both Wayne and Harris keep their eyes glued to Eddie as he punches in the numbers. When it starts ringing, he holds out the receiver to his son. “Say hi and your name when she picks up,” he reminds him, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself before asking you on a date. He takes a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and gnawing on his lower lip so forcefully that he swears it might bleed.

You got this, Munson. The worst she can say is no.

But that’s not quite true, is it? The worst you can do is laugh in his face, leaving him a rejected mess. Scratch that–the worst you could do is accept the date, have him fall head over heels in love with you, then leave him in the dust to pick up the pieces while you move on with someone better. 

Maybe you won’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’ll have more time to–

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!”

It was a small thing. Miniscule, even. Just your meager attempt at reclaiming part of the past that had been lost to time and disease. A simple family recipe, apples boiled and mashed into a sauce that you’d hoped even vaguely resembled the way Grandma made it. A tiny cut on your fingertip serves as a battle wound from peeling, the sweet aroma of cinnamon still lingering in the kitchen.

You try to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just applesauce. But the thought falls flat as you stare into the trash can. You can still see all of your work literally tossed away through the tears that blur your vision.

You’d left the room for two minutes, two goddamn minutes, and when you came back, the plastic pink bowl that held the applesauce was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn you left it on the counter, but maybe you’d already put it away? A quick scan of the refrigerator gave you nothing but a chill. Where the hell did it go? Were you losing your mind?

A rogue apple peel had fallen to the floor, and you scooped it up, flustered at how you could have misplaced an entire bowl of applesauce. Sure, it wasn’t as much as when you and Grandma made it for the whole family, but it was still a decent amount. Your foot presses the pedal that lifts the bin’s lid, and that’s when you see it.

“Grandma?” you choke out, looking over to where she’s sitting on the couch. She doesn’t respond, and you raise your voice a bit to grab her attention. “Grandma, why did you throw out the applesauce?”

Her empty gaze briefly flits over to where you’re standing, not even registering the burgeoning frustration and sadness coursing through your veins. “Wasn’t me,” she says flatly, scratching at the side of her nose with a jagged nail. Before dementia, her nails were always painted bright hues of red or blue; now, it was difficult enough to get her to leave the house for essential doctor’s appointments. You weren’t going to put up a fight trying to get her to the salon.

You know you should just close the lid and walk away instead of torturing yourself by continuing to look, but your feet are glued to the linoleum floor. A cold drop of something lands on your toes, and that’s when you realize that you’re crying. Crying over goddamn applesauce.

All you wanted was some semblance of normalcy, something reminiscent of life before Grandma got sick and your family still felt whole. But what you got was a thickening realization that you can’t relive the past, no matter how hard you try.

The ringing phone startles you from your wallowing. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you know that Grandma will just grumble about how she hates the sound of it, so you pick up the receiver and answer with a shaky, “H-Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!” A little voice chirps through the other end. You can hear Eddie mumbling something, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your favorite balloon?” There’s more hushed speaking from Eddie, and Harris huffs out, “Daddy, stop! I know what to say!” 

“My favorite balloon from the parade?” you ask, biting back a giggle. 

“Mhm! I like Clifford,” he tells you.

You’d kept the parade on in the background, catching glimpses of it every now and again. Shit, what balloons did you see? “Clifford’s a good one,” you agree, “but I think the Rocky and Bullwinkle one was my favorite.”

Harris laughs so loudly that you have to pull the phone from your ear. “The squirrel and the moose?” he guffaws. “Ms. Sweetheart, that’s so silly!” You’re about to ask him how his holiday is going when he says, “Hold on, my daddy wants to talk to you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of talking to Eddie, and you wipe the tears from your wet cheeks as though he’ll be able to see them through the phone.

“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” he says. Something resembling trepidation tinges his tone, though you’re not sure why. Could he still be anxious to approach you after he confided in you at the parent-teacher conference? After he’d watched you panic when Grandma locked herself in her room?

You swallow, trying to choke down the sadness rising within you. “Yeah, y-you, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice breaks on the last word, and you hope Eddie doesn’t catch it.

But of course he does.

“You okay?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re crying.”

“‘M fine. Just, um, chopping onions,” you lie, hoping you’ve done a convincing job.

“For the…applesauce you’re making?” Eddie sees right through you; you’d forgotten that you’d told him and Harris about your plan during your weekly post-tutoring dinner last night. “Not gonna lie, that sounds even nastier than olives on pizza.”

You manage a laugh, but it’s disfigured by the catch in your throat. “The applesauce was a bust, unfortunately,” you admit. “I left the kitchen for a second and Grandma chucked it in the trash.”

“All of it?” he asks incredulously, letting out a deep exhale when you confirm that she did, in fact, throw out the entire bowl. “Jesus H. I’m so sorry. Is that what’s got you upset?”

“Mhm. I know it’s stupid, ‘s just applesauce, but–”

“‘S not stupid,” Eddie interrupts softly, and you twist the phone cord around your pointer finger with the sudden drop of his tone. “I know you were really looking forward to it.” He pauses, and you wonder for a moment if the line’s gone dead before he says, “We’re coming over. Me and Harris. Be there in twenty; fifteen, if I don’t have to argue with him about wearing a jacket.”

Before you can protest, he really does hang up. You look down at the baggy sweats and college t-shirt you’re wearing; you weren’t expecting any guests today, let alone the Munson boys. You should probably throw on some actual pants, and a bit of mascara couldn’t hurt, either.

You find a pair of jeans that aren’t buried under a mountain of laundry and tug them over your thighs before quickly swiping some makeup on your face. It’s enough to mask your exhaustion while still looking natural.

It dawns on you that you’re not quite sure why you suddenly care so much about your appearance. Harris couldn’t care less, and Eddie…well, even if Eddie did care, why would that matter to you? He’s your tutee’s parent; a new friend at most. On more than one occasion, you’ve answered the door to Jess with a wicked case of bedhead. Why does Eddie Munson of all people make you feel the need to look halfway decent?

When the buzzer sounds, you nearly jump out of your own skin. “It’s us,” Eddie says into the speaker; the smoothness of his voice has your stomach in knots. “And we come bearing gifts. Well, one gift, I guess.”

“Fuck off,” Grandma mumbles from the couch, cranking up the TV volume to an ungodly loud level. One of the Law & Order detectives says–no, screams–something about a murder, and you quickly reach for the remote and click the power button.

“We have company,” you tell her, and she just grunts in response. Hopefully her mood will change in the minute it will take Eddie and Harris to get to your apartment. You can hear them down the hallway, so you open the door just as they’re about to knock.

Eddie takes a step back in surprise. “You psychic or somethin’?” he laughs, looking down at his son and giving him a small nudge. “Go ahead, you can give it to her.”

Your gaze drops to the curly-haired boy standing by his father’s side. He’s holding a brightly colored package of off-brand Oreos, which he brings closer to his chest, pressing it tightly against his zippered sweatshirt. “It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” he reminds Eddie, wide-eyed with genuine concern.

“Only until we got here,” Eddie says gently, soft brown eyes encouraging Harris to hand you the cookies. He brings his attention back to you. “I know it’s not the same as making applesauce with your grandma, but I’ve never been sad eating an Oreo. An oatmeal raisin cookie, maybe. But not an Oreo.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “You may be onto something here, Munson.” You take the package from Harris and guide the two of them to the kitchen, calling out to Grandma as you pass by. “Grandma, Eddie and Harris are here, and they brought cookies, if you wanna join us.” Her non-response is familiar at this point; the sting is much easier to brush off than it was a few short months ago. But you still feel it.

Even though Grandma isn’t at the table, Harris still climbs onto his dad’s lap. “Daddy, can I have one?” he asks, resting his dimpled chin on his palms as he glances upwards.

“Gotta ask Ms. Sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, tickling Harris’s ribs and loudly whispering, “and ask her if your poor, hungry dad can have one, too. She can’t say no to you.”

You open the package and shake your head at his antics, sliding out the flimsy tray and offering it to them. “Of course you can have one, Harris,” you say, tone saccharine sweet. His chubby fingers darting out and snatching up a cookie before you even finish your sentence. “But I don’t know about your dad. Do you think he should get one?”

“C’mon, Har,” Eddie urges him, “us men gotta stick together. All for one and one for all, right?” He flexes his bicep; it’s an attempt to emphasize the manliness that supposedly bonds him and Harris, but the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. You sputter and cough embarrassingly, excusing yourself to pour a glass of water. 

“Anyone else want?” you manage once you can speak again, holding up the ceramic pitcher. 

Eddie nods, lifting Harris from his lap and placing him on the nearest empty chair. “Here, let me help you.” He stands up and calls out over his shoulder, “Grandma, how about some water?”

You’re about to tell him not to worry about it, but to your surprise, she nods. “Ya.”

“So, four waters,” Eddie reports, taking the pitcher and refilling your glass. 

You grab another just like it from the cabinet before taking two blue disposable ones, plopping a bendy straw in each. “Grandma, um, she needs stuff that isn’t breakable,” you explain lamely. “And the other plastic one is for Harris.”

Eddie grins. “Thought it was for me. Y’know, always making a mess.”

“Ah, but only of your life,” you tease. “You’re pretty good with basic human functions.” Your face burns at what you’ve potentially implied, but Eddie isn’t fazed. 

“Y’know what? I’m gonna take my cookies back!” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in mock-indignance. A piece of curly hair sticks to his lower lip with his sudden movement, and you brush it away with your thumb before you can stop yourself. 

The crinkling of the fake-Oreo package draws both of your gazes, with Eddie poised to tell Harris that he’s only allowed one more. But to your surprise—and perhaps Eddie’s, too—Harris isn’t the one rifling through the tray. Grandma’s taken a seat next to the boy, handing him a cookie before taking her own. She just nibbles on it in silence, but it’s the most present she’s been in days. 

“Y’like Oreos, Grandma?” Eddie asks, pouring water into the two plastic glasses and carrying one in each ringed hand. He places them on the table, and Grandma brings the straw to her lips as she nods again. He pauses for a moment, lips tucked into his mouth as he ponders something. “What kind of music does she listen to?” he asks you. 

“She has a record collection over in the living room,” you tell him, pointing to the low bookshelf near the door, “but we haven’t played any in awhile. She’s kinda…weird with noises.”

He considers this, walking over to the records and thumbing through them until he finds one that he recognizes. “Could I put this one on?” He holds up the battered copy of Frank Sinatra’s It Might As Well Be Swing. “I’ll take it off if she gets upset. I just wanna try something.” He carefully slides the record from its sleeve, lifting the player’s needle and placing it on the space for the first track. 

There’s a soft static as the record starts to spin, and Ol’ Blue Eyes croons: 

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars

Eddie joins in with the next part. His voice still carries its signature rasp, but it’s noticeably smoother, warmer than the night he’d dedicated the Def Leppard song to you. 

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

His eyes remain trained on the record player, but you swear you can feel the lyrics drifting towards you. The melody wraps around you like a hug, and you momentarily lose yourself in a musical embrace. 

Another voice, low and timid, chimes in. You have to stifle a gasp when you realize that it’s Grandma, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles–the most joy she’s shown in a long while–as she half-sings the words. 

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and before you can exhale the third syllable, the world shifts back to normal. Grandma goes back to mindlessly munching on her cookie as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. You turn to Eddie. “What was that?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “I read somewhere that music can, like, bring back some memories. Not permanently or anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

You can’t stop yourself from flinging your arms around Eddie’s neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. He pauses before he returns the gesture, pulling you tightly into him. One hand is on the small of your back; the other gently rests on the back of your head, allowing you to rest your forehead on his chest. Your tears flow freely, leaving tiny wet spots on his shirt. He doesn’t let go until you start to pull back. 

“Thank you,” you whisper; when he pinches his brows in confusion, you elaborate. “You gave me back a little piece of who she was before…” you trail off, swiping at your cheeks messily. “Just…thank you.”

Eddie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes are practically glued to your lips; this time, when his fingers brush against your palm, he hooks his pinky with yours. “‘Course,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure how long the two of you remain linked like this, joined hands swaying ever-so-slightly as Fly Me to the Moon fades out to I Wish You Love. It’s somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, because time seemingly slows to a halt. 

You might stay with pinkies hooked forever if Harris doesn’t bolt from his chair, hugging your waist and looking up at you with concern. 

“Ms. Sweetheart?” he asks. His wide, misty eyes indicate that he’s absorbed some of the emotion in the room, though he may not even be aware of this. “Why are you sad?” His chubby fingers grab onto the fabric of your pants.

You choke out a tearful laugh as you crouch down to meet him at his level. “I’m not sad…well, I’m sad and happy at the same time,” you try to explain, shaking your head when you realize you’re only adding to his puzzlement. “Grown-up feelings are weird sometimes, Har. But your hugs definitely help.”

With that, he squeezes you tighter, and you glance at Eddie with a full heart. He takes a step forward, scooping up Harris. You worry that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve shown too much of your vulnerability to a four-year-old, but your fears are subdued when Eddie extends one arm and brings you back to both him and his son. Something brushes against your scalp, and you realize that he’s pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. 

Harris squirms, and when Eddie puts him down, he runs over to the TV set. “Can I watch something?” It’s clear that the moment has passed, and Eddie throws you an apologetic shrug as he waits for your response.

“Sure,” you say, trying to pepper cheerfulness into your voice. It’s easier now that the wave of loneliness has passed, taking with it some of the mourning you’d clung to earlier today. You click on the TV and flip through channels until a familiar cartoon appears on the screen. “I think we’re just in time to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” you exclaim, and Harris mirrors your enthusiasm by flinging himself onto the couch, making his dad cringe.

“Careful, little dude,” Eddie says, clicking off the record player and gently placing the vinyl back in its sleeve. “You just got that cast off a few days ago. Don’t need you to break another bone.” Certainly don’t need another hospital bill, he thinks bitterly. He takes the spot next to Harris, silently begging you to join them. 

You turn to the kitchen table and put a hand on Grandma’s shoulder. “You wanna watch Charlie Brown with us?” But she rejects your invitation with a simple shake of her head, mumbling something about being tired and padding into her room. 

You take the empty space to Harris’s left so that the boy is sandwiched between you and his father. He’s a small kid, but it seems like there’s an entire ocean separating you and Eddie. 

“Why’s Lucy so mean?” Harris asks no one in particular. “She’s always yelling. Like Ms. Marion.” You have to stifle a giggle at that observation, and when you allow yourself a glance, you see that Eddie’s doing the same. 

The first half of the movie is filled with Harris’s constant commentary; he speaks more than all of the cartoon characters combined. But he tires out eventually, though in typical four-year-old fashion, he denies his sleepiness even as he’s yawning. He fights it pretty well, you’ve got to give him credit where it’s due, but eventually, the exhaustion takes over and he lays his head on your arm. His curls tickle your elbow, and you gingerly reposition him so he’s tucked up against your side. 

“You can move him over, if you get uncomfortable or somethin’. Kid sleeps like a rock. Except, y’know, when I need him to sleep.” Eddie snickers as Harris lets out the softest, tiniest snore. 

You return the laughter and shake your head. “Nah, I’m good,” you reassure him, smiling at the ruddy cheek pressed against you. “Don’t tell my other students, but Harris is the cutest kid ever.”

Eddie shrugs, but you can tell that the compliment tickles him. “Well, it makes sense, since his dad is a total stud.” He waggles his eyebrows before turning his attention back to Charlie and Lucy. You’re not quite sure how to respond to that; if you play it off as a joke, you risk hurting his feelings. If you tell him the truth–

“D’you like coffee?”

His sudden, seemingly arbitrary question snaps you from your indecision. “I teach four-year-olds,” you reply lightheartedly, hoping he can’t sense your mind continuing to linger on his stud comment. “I practically have coffee running through my veins. What about you?”

“I have a four-year-old, so, same.” He clears his throat, seemingly double-checking that his son is still sound asleep. His leg is bouncing up and down, and he nearly has to press on his knee to get it to stop. “Um, Harris is going to a birthday party next Saturday morning if you wanted to get some with me? Get some coffee, I mean.” He silently chastises himself, wondering if he’d ever been suave around women or if it had just been the unearned confidence of a young man in his early twenties convincing him that he had. 

“Like...like a date?” Fuck, do you sound too eager? “Because if you feel like you owe me a date after…after our night at the bar, you don’t have to. I forgave you after you gave me those M&Ms, remember?”

“Yeah…wait, no. Hold on.” Eddie holds up his pointer finger as he collects his thoughts. He could deny that it’s a date altogether and throw out some bullshit lie about it just being something between friends. But he promised Wayne, promised himself that he’d give this a shot.  “Yes, I’m asking you on a date. No, it’s not because I feel like I owe you one–although I definitely do,” he adds with a goofy grin that sends flutters to your stomach. “It’s because, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and how happy you make me–and Harris, too–and how I get kinda nervous around you, which makes no sense because you’re, like, the nicest fuckin’ person ever. Oh my God, why can’t I stop talking?”

“Eddie.” The way you say his name is like a song he could replay forever. “I’d really like to get coffee with you. I just need to see if someone can watch Grandma…maybe Jess,” you surmise, biting back the fact that you’ll have to withhold your date’s name, lest she subject you to a lecture about sleeping with the enemy.

Eddie nods, swiping the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and smiling. “I can pick you up at noon? If Jess can watch Grandma, of course.”

“Noon works.” You want to kiss him right then and there; if Harris wasn’t nestled in the middle of you both, you might not hold back. “I can let you know on Wednesday when we have dinner together.”

Eddie’s not sure he can wait that long for an answer. What if you’re just buying time to get out of it? What if you’re only being nice to him because you’re afraid that he’ll get angry again and reignite the bitter feud you’d been locked in just a month ago? He swallows the insecurities, gaze flickering to your eyes.

And maybe it’s because you can sense his unease and self-doubt, or maybe it’s because you genuinely want to–Eddie doesn’t know for sure–but he feels you lace your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on his thigh. He shifts his grasp to weave them tighter together, learning back into the couch and allowing his body to relax. His shoulders let go of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding on to, and a contented sigh slips from his lips.

It’s you, him, and Harris. Sitting on the sofa and watching a holiday movie. An unconventional little family, but a family all the same. Eddie swears that he could stay like this forever, a thought that almost has him bursting out in laughter. The same man who had concocted an elaborate method to keep women around without actually committing to them was now reveling in domestic bliss. 

When the movie ends and Harris begins to rouse, Eddie begrudgingly stands with an exaggerated groan. “These old bones, y’know,” he laments with a mischievous click of his tongue. “Everything starts fallin’ apart when you turn thirty.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, lifting Harris onto his hip and rubbing his back to help him fall back to sleep. “I know.” He grabs his keys from the shelf near the door as you walk them out. And before he can wimp out, he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, stubble scratching against your skin. His hands are trembling when he pulls away.

“You’re the best,” he repeats the same statement he’d made on parent-teacher conference night. It’s even more true now than it was then. “We’ll see you on Wednesday for pizza?” And an answer, hopefully a ‘yes.’ “Wednesday,” you echo, still processing the fact that, for the second time today, Eddie Munson’s lips have been on you.

--

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday

[morganbritton132]

Love the idea of Steve and Eddie being so sickening in love that Eddie calling him by his name makes Steve be like “why are you being mean”. Imagining how funny it would be if Steve was hanging out with a new friend or co worker or something at the house for the first time and Eddie comes in and is like “hey Steve” and kisses him on the cheek before introductions and obligatory “how was your day” and when Eddie leaves a couple minutes later the new friend is about to comment on how nice Steve’s husband seems when Steve turns to her and is like “I’m so so sorry you had to see that he is not usually like that he is just still pissy about (insert dumb funny thing here)”

This is cute and hilarious, and it’s so canon to this AU that it hurts. I love it so much.

I’m picturing Steve having a group of teachers over because they’re part of a committee and they’re planning an event at the school. Some of the teachers are people that Steve has known years, but the majority are people who don’t know Eddie outside of the guy that sometimes picks Steve up on bad brain days.

They’re in the thick of making posters and streamers when Eddie comes into the house, guitar case in hand from practicing at Jeff’s. He comes into the dining room where everybody is, plants a kiss on Steve’s cheek like, “Hey, Steve. Missed you.”

“Missed you more,” Steve hums back, sinking into Eddie’s side when he wraps his arm around his waist and pulls him closer.

Eddie rests his head on Steve’s shoulder and looks down at the poster he is making. It’s very glittery. He asks, “How’s it going?”

He listens attentively as Steve tells him of all they’ve accomplished and even reminds him of something that he said he wanted to do for the event and forgot about. He smiles and shakes hands when he’s introduced to other teachers and even recalls some of the things Steve told him about them.

At the ends of it, Eddie kisses Steve’s cheek again, tells him that they’re doing amazing work, and then says, “I’ve got a melody in my head, gonna go iron it out. Let me know if you need anything.”

He even says as he leaves, “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Steve echoes back. Once the basement door closes, Steve just sighs and says so apologetically, “I’m so sorry you had to see that and if it made any of you uncomfortable. He’s not typically like that, you know. He’s just mad at me right now because I won’t walk a red carpet with him next week.”

At first everybody thinks that he’s joking but Steve looks so genuinely embarrassed that they have to believe him. Everybody is just like, “Excuse me, he’s mad at you?? He isn’t usually like that??? Meaning that he’s typically more loving and affectionate???”

Kathy, a seventh grade English teacher who shares way too much about her failing marriage, is just like, “Shoot, I can’t even get my husband to say he loves me half the time.”

“Kathy,” Steve says sincerely. “You need to divorce your husband.”

“I know.”

There’s a beat of silence before David, a newer teacher at the school, asks, “Red carpet? He is like, movie star or something?”

[steddiealltheway]

Part Three of The Danger of Romanticizing. Part One. Part Two. Ao3 Link.

Over the next few days, Steve asks Robin to tell Eddie he says hi, adding it to his morning routine. And every day without fail, he gets a responding hi back. Sometimes, he even gets a question about what the polo of the day is. Robin starts shoving Steve sticky notes to write down whatever he wants to say which she hands off to Chrissy. 

He finds himself looking forward to the notes whenever he gets home, fingers tracing over Eddie’s slightly sloppy handwriting before sticking them to his wall. 

On Thursday, Steve comes home to find Chrissy sitting on the couch with Robin, fingers intertwined as they appear to do their separate class readings. “Hey,” Steve says, hoping that they’re not too deep into the studying zone. 

Chrissy gives him a bright smile and says, “Hi, Steve.” 

Steve can’t help but glance around, trying to find some trace of Eddie in the place. For some reason, he thinks that he would know if he was there. 

“He’s out with his... friend,” Chrissy explains, giving Steve an apologetic smile. 

Steve nods. “Right, the sort of boyfriend.” 

“I wouldn’t call him that,” Chrissy says with a slight frown. She shakes her head and turns back to her work. 

Robin stares at her girlfriend for a moment before asking, “How come you never talk about him?”

Chrissy glances at her and her expression immediately softens. Steve feels like he finally understood the phrase “heart eyes” when he first saw the way Chrissy and Robin look at each other. 

“I haven’t met him yet. But Eddie doesn’t have the best track record with guys. I mean, he deserves the world, but he doesn’t understand why. I used to make him recite these affirmations to try to make him understand his worth, but he’s Eddie, you know? A lot of those deep emotions he deflects with jokes.” Chrissy sighs and holds up a packet of paper. “Sorry, I’m currently learning about coping mechanisms.” 

“No apologizing, remember? You’re allowed to talk about the things you’re passionate about,” Robin gently reminds her. 

Chrissy leans over and plants a soft kiss on her cheek. “Thank you,” she says softly. 

Steve turns away as he watches Robin blush and duck her head. He resists the urge to make a comment that will ruin their moment and instead goes to the pantry and pulls out a box of pasta. He silently starts on dinner contemplating if he can pry about this mystery man in Eddie’s life through the sticky notes. 

“Oh, Steve!” Chrissy says over her shoulder. 

“Yes?” 

“Eddie said that he’s sad to miss you and he hopes he can see you again soon.” 

Steve smiles. “Tell him I hope I can see him soon.” 

“Will do,” Chrissy replies with a bright smile. 

And god, Steve really hopes he can. 

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next morning is rough. 

Steve sleeps through his alarm and in the process of rushing out the door he forgets to write Eddie a note and spills a cup of coffee on himself on the drive to work. 

He walks in pressing napkins against his shirt, trying to soak up some of the liquid. Of course, this is the day he decides to wear a light pink polo. 

“Nice look, Harrington,” Collin says loudly, causing everyone else to look up from their desk at him. 

He already gets enough shit for being the boss’s son, so he’s sure that today will be worse than usual. 

And it is. 

It’s like everyone teams up on him to make jokes pretending to trip while holding coffee mugs in their hands. It gets old pretty fast, especially when his co-worker Aidan actually ends up pouring more coffee on him while he’s talking to a customer. And while he’s cleaning up again, Collin is able to swoop in and swindle his customer. 

It’s all bullshit. 

When the workday ends, he tries to grab his stuff and stalk off to his car quickly, but Collin manages to get in a quick, “Better luck next time, champ.” 

Steve ignores him but he can’t help but feel like the final straw was broken for him. 

He gets stuck in traffic and wants more than anything to just get home, shower, change, and put on a shitty movie. When he finally gets to his apartment, he manages to drop the keys while unlocking the door twice before pushing it open only to find Robin standing on the other side. 

“How was work?” she asks overly bubbly. 

“How do you think it was?” Steve asks gesturing to his shirt. 

Robin cringes and teases, “Clumsy day?” 

“Not now, Robin,” Steve sighs, trying to take his shoes off quickly. He finally gets them undone and finds that he’s wearing one navy and one black sock. 

Robin points down to them and laughs. 

“Seriously, Robin, I’m not in the mood,” he says and crosses his arms. 

Robin grabs onto his arms with a bright smile and says, “But I have a surprise for you.” 

Steve sighs and ducks his head, trying to make his way past her. 

“Hold on!” Robin says, blocking his way. “God, you reek of coffee.” 

For some reason, the comment really gets to Steve, and he snaps, “Can you just fucking give me some space?” He storms past her and rounds the corner to his room only to find that they’re not alone. 

He looks up and takes in Chrissy and Eddie standing in the living room looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“I...” Steve starts then turns around mumbling, “Fuck,” under his breath as he practically runs out the front door, grabbing his shoes on the way out. He jogs toward his car and pulls on the handle, realizing it’s locked. He digs into his pocket and mumbles, “No.” He checks his other pocket and comes up with nothing. 

Of course, he left them on the hook by the front door. 

He quickly puts on his shoes, wincing when he feels a rock in his right shoe. He sighs and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. He knows he shouldn’t run. He always runs. 

He hears footsteps thudding on the sidewalk behind him. “Hey,” a voice softly says. 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut a little harder before running his hands over his face and slowly turning around. “Hey,” he mumbles, making fleeting eye contact with Eddie before staring at the pavement. 

“Going somewhere?” 

Steve crosses his arms and leans back against the hood of his car. “I was, but I left my keys inside.” 

Eddie digs into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys, dangling them in front of him. “I have mine. Come on,” he says, already stepping back on the sidewalk and walking away from Steve. 

Steve pauses but follows him around the corner of the building where he’s parked. He wonders if he purposefully parked there in order to surprise him. God, it just makes him feel worse. 

He climbs into the passenger seat and stares ahead. 

“Where to?” Eddie asks. 

Steve sighs, “Whatever store carries pints of coffee chocolate chip ice cream.” 

Eddie starts his van and asks, “Your favorite?” 

“Robin’s favorite.” 

“Ah,” Eddie says as he backs out of the side parking lot. “I have an extra shirt in the back if you want to change.” 

Steve almost passes it up, but he doesn’t think he can stand the smell of coffee any longer. He twists in his seat and glances at the back, finding a random shirt thrown on the seat along with a lot of random shit that Steve wants to ask about. Instead, he tugs his polo off and quickly shrugs on Eddie’s shirt. 

In any other situation, he would’ve been ecstatic about the softness of the shirt and embarrassingly tried to smell the collar or something to commit the scent to memory. But the heaviness of how he treated Robin weighs too heavily on his mind. 

They sit in silence for a few moments, and Steve grows increasingly sorrowful. 

“Want to talk about it?” Eddie asks. 

Steve glances at him, noticing the lack of judgment in his expression which puts him at ease. “I just had a really bad day at work, and I was an asshole and took it out on Robin.” 

“Chrissy always tells me that we take out our stress on the ones we love the most.” 

“There’s definitely a reason she’s a psychology major.” 

Eddie snorts and shrugs, eyes not leaving the road as he talks. “She’s going to be an amazing therapist. But what I meant by that is that I’ve had my fair share of frustrating exchanges with Chrissy as well.” 

Steve sighs and leans back in his seat. “Yeah, but usually I save the part where I reveal that I’m an asshole at least a few months after meeting someone.” 

“Romanticizing yourself,” Eddie says with a small smile. He approaches a red light and turns to Steve to state, “You’re not an asshole. You’re just human.” 

“A little too human,” Steve argues. 

“The best people are.” 

“Sounds like you’re romanticizing me,” Steve says, trying to brush off the sincerity of what Eddie said. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns back to the now green light. 

They sit in comfortable silence as they make their way to the parking lot of a grocery store. 

With the words still weighing heavy on his mind, Steve finally says, “Thank you.” 

Eddie pulls into a parking space and replies, “No need for all that.” He gets out of the car before Steve can argue with him. 

As they make their way inside, Steve changes the subject, “Ever since you brought up how empty my room is, I can’t stop noticing it.” 

Eddie winces. “Sorry, I have a tendency to chronically put my foot in my mouth.” 

Steve shakes his head. “No, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I just suddenly want to do something about it.” 

Eddie suddenly stops in the middle of the store, causing the person behind them to nearly hit him with their cart. Eddie turns and says, “Sorry,” before placing a gentle hand on Steve’s back and guiding him away from the frozen aisle they were walking toward. 

“Where-” 

Eddie puts his finger to his lips and says, “No questions.” 

Steve’s eyebrows furrow but he keeps his lips shut as Eddie guides him to some random place in the store. He lets the warmth of Eddie's fingertips through the thin layer of the shirt distract him for a few moments until he notices that they’ve stopped. 

Steve glances around and asks, “Clocks?” 

Eddie sighs and tugs him past the section to the picture frames. “Stay here and pick a few you like. I’ll be right back.” 

Steve can’t even give him a confused look before he takes off. He turns back to the frames, scanning them before he grabs a white frame with a gold stripe that he thinks looks nice. For some reason he also finds a small silver circular frame that he thinks is kind of cute and funny, so he grabs it. He holds the two side by side and smiles. They look horrible together, but he likes them. 

Eddie suddenly appears at his side, winded as if he just ran across the store. He holds up a small disposable camera and smiles proudly. “And this should be good for now. Time for ice cream.” He turns and heads toward the frozen aisle before stopping in place suddenly again. 

Steve runs right into him and stumbles back. “Do you do this often?” 

“Absolutely,” Eddie answers. He glances down at the frames and says, “I just realized I didn’t look at what you chose. The small one is funny.” 

“Right?” Steve says, relieved that he understands. 

Eddie looks him in the eye and his smile grows. “Good choices.” 

Steve finds himself flushing a bit red after the direct affirmation from Eddie. Luckily, Eddie doesn’t notice as he leads the way to the ice cream. 

It takes a few moments to find the ice cream, but Eddie suddenly excitedly says, “Yes!” and grabs a pint out of the freezer. Steve can’t help but think that he might be his good luck charm. 

They check out quickly. Eddie asks Steve to grab him a candy bar, taking the moment of distraction to hand the cashier money, paying for everything. When Steve realizes, he tries to protest but Eddie shuts him down saying, “I’m the one who told you to get those things. It would be a dick move to make you pay for them too.” 

“I could’ve at least covered the ice cream.” 

“And risked it melting while we wasted time with a second checkout?” Eddie asks, acting flabbergasted at the idea. 

Steve just laughs and at least takes the bags from him. 

“My hero,” Eddie jokes, fluttering his eyelashes. As they get to the car he asks, “By the way, what candy bar did you get? I forgot to check.” 

“A Three Musketeer. I hope that’s okay.” 

Eddie smiles and hits the center console excitedly. “That was the inspiration behind naming Dart! You know? D'Artagnan.” 

Steve shakes his head coming up with nothing. Eddie digs into the bags and grabs the candy, pointing it out to Steve. 

“Oh. Dustin’s going to be so excited to hear that. Three Musketeers are his favorite.” 

“You really love that kid,” Eddie comments with a smile as he starts the car. 

“He can be an annoying little shit sometimes, but I love him like a brother.” 

Eddie laughs. “I’m excited to meet him.” 

“Me too,” Steve replies and suddenly remembers what Dustin told him. “Hey, I didn’t know you also illustrated the book. I don’t know how I skimmed over that, but that’s incredible.” 

A light blush covers Eddie’s cheeks. “It’s alright. I used to design stuff for Hellfire in high school, but I’m absolutely shit at faces. That’s why you never see The Boy’s face.” 

“I somehow never noticed that. But I think it’s a good choice. It lets the reader kind of imagine themself in the role, you know?” 

Eddie pauses for a moment before asking, “Yeah? You can relate?” 

Steve shrugs and leans back. “I can relate to the found family, and I mean...” Steve trails off and looks down at his hands. “Sometimes I feel like an outcast. And yeah, that sounds ridiculous since I was a pretty popular jock in high school. But I had this kind of reality check and suddenly I didn’t see the appeal of being ‘King Steve.’ I spent the last semester of my senior year sitting next to my ex and her new boyfriend during lunch. It was a miracle that I put in my resume at this ice cream shop because that’s how I met Robin. But even at work now, I just don’t fit in.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know.” 

“Maybe we’re the same,” Eddie cheesily quotes the title of his book. Before Steve can ask what he means, Eddie presses on. “I have one question.” 

“Mhm?” 

“Did they really call you King Steve?” 

Steve groans, “Yes. God, I hate that nickname.” 

Eddie laughs. “Alright, I promise not to call you that.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Your Highness.” 

Steve sighs but he fails to hide the slight humor in his expression. 

“Okay, I promise to never bring it up... After this car ride, my lord,” Eddie says with a wicked smile. 

Steve buries his face in his hands for the rest of the ride home, trying not to laugh too hard at the ridiculous nicknames Eddie pulls out of his ass. But as they get closer to his apartment, his happiness dies down as he faces the reality of what he’s returning to. 

Eddie quiets down during the last minute, sensing the shift in emotions from Steve. He parks outside and quietly asks, “Are you ready?” 

“No,” Steve says, unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his bags before getting out of the car. 

He slowly steps up to the front door but pauses to turn around to Eddie. “Thank you for all of this. Really.” 

Eddie just puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs. “I had a good time. I hope your day has gotten a little better.” 

“It has,” Steve admits with no hesitation. “As long as I can apologize to Robin after this and hope she forgives me.” 

“Something tells me that she will.” 

Steve glances up at Eddie, wondering if he can express how much that fills him with relief. He steps forward, intent on wrapping his arms around the man and holding him for as long as he’ll let him. 

The door swings open before Steve’s arms can come up. 

“Hey, I thought I heard the van doors shut,” Chrissy says with a small smile. 

“How is she?” Steve asks immediately. 

Chrissy puts a hand on his arm. “She’s alright. I think she’ll be happy to talk to you.” She squeezes him before turning to Eddie and asking, “You ready to go?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicker to Steve before settling on Chrissy. He gives her a conflicted look, but Chrissy raises her eyebrows at him causing Eddie to sigh and turn to Steve saying, “Maybe I’ll see you soon? We’ll plan it this time.” 

Steve feels his face suddenly get very warm with embarrassment. “That would be great.” 

Eddie nods at him and turns away to make his way back to the van. Steve waves goodbye to the pair before going inside. He drops the bag with the frames and camera on their table in the small dining area before grabbing two spoons and the bag with the ice cream.  

He purposefully makes his footsteps a little heavier as he makes his way to Robin’s room to prepare her for his presence. He lightly knocks on the door and waits. 

“It’s open,” she says. 

Steve slowly pushes the door open and finds Robin lying in her bed staring at the ceiling. “Hey.” 

Robin turns and gives him a small smile. “Hey.” 

“I brought the goods,” Steve jokes as he walks toward her bed. 

Robin sits up and makes grabby hands at him, taking the pint and a spoon as soon as she can. Steve can’t help but think that’s a good sign, but he’s not going to pretend everything is normal. “I’m sorry I was an asshole to you. I shouldn’t have taken out my bad day on you.” 

Robin glances at him with a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. She takes a moment to eat before she sighs, “It wasn’t just you though. I shouldn’t have been so pushy and glossed over your bad day. And I definitely shouldn’t have surprised you like that.” 

“Are you kidding? Any other day, I would’ve been ecstatic.” 

“Just not today,” Robin says, staring down at the ice cream before taking another spoonful. She glances over at him and asks, “Want to talk about your day?” 

Steve shakes his head. “Just Collin being an asshole and the other guys joining in.” 

“Charles and Ryan?” 

“Aidan this time.” 

Robin sighs, “I wish I could go in there and give them a piece of my mind.” 

“I think I deserved it today.” 

Robin raises an eyebrow at him. “No matter how much of a dick you can be, I’m not leaving you, dingus. And you definitely don’t deserve that shit.” 

Steve shrugs and takes a stab at the ice cream. “Eddie made things better.” 

“Yeah?” 

Steve nods and avoids eye contact as the coffee flavor melts in his mouth. 

“Speak of Eddie, is he the reason you’re wearing a Metallica shirt?” 

Steve glances down at the shirt and smiles. He had forgotten he was wearing it. “Yeah. He had an extra shirt in the back and let me change out of the coffee-stained one. I think I left that polo in his van though.” He shrugs and gets another spoonful of ice cream. “He’s really great.” 

There’s a longer pause before Robin rests her hand on Steve’s and asks, “Steve, do you... like him?” 

Steve’s eyes snap up to Robin quickly, swallowing a mouthful of cold ice cream in the process. His heart beats a little faster, and he hopes Robin can’t feel his pulse. “No, it’s not like that. Besides, I barely know him.” 

“Yeah, but you’ve liked people with a lot less information about them.” 

Steve sighs and puts his spoon down to lay his other hand on top of Robin’s and look her in the eye. “Even if I do like him, he has a sort of boyfriend. Plus, I’m not going to do anything reckless that will risk the happiness of your and Chrissy’s relationship, okay?” 

Robin stares at him for a few seconds too long before she nods. “Okay. But... you can talk to me if those feelings ever change.” 

“And they won’t,” Steve reassures her. 

Robin looks conflicted before she gives him a small smile and goes back to the ice cream. 

Steve is able to easily change the subject and things finally feel normal again once they’re both laughing so hard they have to wipe at the tears running down their faces. 

But when Steve lays in bed that night, his thoughts drift to Eddie. He can’t fall for him. Really, he can’t. He can’t do that to Chrissy and Robin. 

So, for once, he tries to turn off all the thoughts romanticizing the man. But he doesn’t know how to humanize the man when he’s been nothing but... perfect. 

He’s so screwed.

Part Four

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[livwritesstuff]

i’ve been very quiet so srry - my week started with my annual performance review (which went well) and ended with an emergency surgery (also went well) so…a lot going on to say the least

this is a deleted scene from the first chapter of plant a seed

When Robin called, Steve and Eddie were in the phase of newborn parenthood where they froze every single time the phone rang (because said newborn was napping more often than not and when she was, there was a 50% chance minimum the phone would wake her up).

So when Robin called and the ringing of the phone broke the otherwise peaceful silence, Steve froze and he waited. When the baby didn't wake up, Steve exhaled a sigh of relief and answered the call.

"This is Steve."

"Hey Steve-o!"

Steve immediately recognized the voice as Robin's – of course he did, even if he hadn't heard it since she and Nancy left for a work trip in Japan a little over a month ago.

“Oh shit,” Steve said, because this means that Robin and Nancy are finally home, finally back in their Boston apartment fifteen minutes away from his and Eddie's in Cambridge instead of the opposite side of the entire world, “You’re home!”

“Yep,” Robin replied, popping the P, “That plane was a million degrees, I’m pretty sure. No more August flights if I have any say in it. Anyways – wanted to let you know we made it back unscathed. What’s new with you guys?”

“Uh…” Steve began, not totally sure where to start, because Robin didn't know about the baby he and Eddie had been placed with two weeks ago and she certainly didn't know that they're going to adopt her (because they'd landed on that decision that very day – about two hours ago, to be specific), “Well–”

“Hey, do you still have those placements?" Robin interrupted, "The kids who like to read the Goosebumps books?”

“Oh,” Steve blinked, “No. They went back with their mom a couple days after you left.”

“Damn. Been a while. Forgot this trip was longer than usual – wait, so are you between placements now, then? Hey, we should finally make that trip to P-Town!”

"Might need a raincheck on that," Steve said with a laugh, because at the moment a trip to the goddamn grocery store required at least a day's worth of planning, "We've got another placement right now – a newborn. We've had her for, uh, for just under two weeks, pretty sure."

“Shit, a newborn?" Robin repeated.

Steve faintly heard Nancy's voice, though he couldn't make out exactly what she was saying. He listened as Robin recounted to her what he'd just said, then started to laugh.

"Nancy just said that if she misses out on a chance to hold a new baby, she'll kill you," Robin told him, "Any idea when she might move on?”

Steve paused for a second. He and Eddie had decided earlier that they wouldn’t be telling anyone about the baby until the adoption was finalized, but…it’s Robin. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever kept a secret from Robin before, certainly not something this big and certainly not for very long.

He has to tell her.

“We’re, uh, we’re actually adopting her.”

Robin was silent.

Then –

“Holy shit – Steve.”

And then –

“I’m coming over right now. Immediately. Wait–” Robin stopped, “Damn, I can’t be a dick and come over unannounced anymore, can I? Because you guys have a baby. A baby. And she’s gonna be yours? What the fuck? Wait, let me start over.”

Robin paused long enough to take a deep breath.

“Steve Harrington – my best friend who’s finally fulfilling a lifelong dream of becoming a dad – when will you allow us to come and be formally introduced to our niece?”

Truth be told, Steve wouldn’t say no to a visit from Robin and Nancy that day (especially after the our niece comment), but their case worker had just started faxing over all the paperwork to get the ball rolling on the adoption process and Steve has a feeling that he might catch Eddie trying to fill that shit out as it came out of the machine so tonight they might be a little occupied.

"Tomorrow?" he suggested.

"Morning?" Robin added.

Steve laughed, "Sure. Tomorrow morning."

"Bright and early, dad. Holy fuck, I can't believe you're a dad."

"You can't?"

"No, I totally can."

[artiststarme]

Let's Get Out Of Here

Aha, the writer’s block is gone! I’m not sure what this is but I hope you guys like it! Please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Eddie had wanted to leave since he stepped foot into the god-forsaken town. As soon as he’d passed the town’s border in the backseat of the social worker’s sedan, he knew he didn’t belong there. Hawkins was everything he despised about society; white picket fences for the rich, small town boys who thought they were better than everyone else, and snobby adults that turned their nose up if he so much as looked at them.

So yes, he’d been imagining a way out since he got in. He’d imagined Corroded Coffin making it big and getting to leave Hawkins together, best friends living the best life on stage while sharing their music with the masses. They wouldn’t be the outcasts that people treated like shit beneath their boots anymore, they would be something important. Unfortunately, that dream was squashed by his experiences over Spring Break. His old friends wouldn’t so much as glance at him much less leave town to hit the road with him.

Gone were the friends that would listen to him narrate a campaign for hours on end. Gone were the the friends that would drop everything to practice one of Eddie’s spur of the moment song ideas. After Spring Break of his third senior year, Eddie was alone.

He managed to avoid criminal charges by the skin of his teeth with a bogus alibi fabricated by the surprisingly-still-alive-Chief Hopper. He was finally able to graduate from high school and get a full time job to raise some money. But everything else was ruined. The friends he’d had since sophomore year were gone, the trailer he’d called his home was savaged, and his body was marred with gruesome scars that still wrought pain on the worst days.

On the bad days when the pain kept him in bed, he’d fantasize about leaving Hawkins. New, more achievable dreams centered around moving someplace new with Wayne. They’d pack everything up in the van and truck and just take off. They’d leave the tragic Midwest behind and head somewhere bigger like LA or NYC to take the world at storm, Munsons against the world as it had always been. Unfortunately though, they just didn’t have the funds to do that. Wayne couldn’t leave the plant when he had no savings to his name. And Eddie didn’t have anywhere near enough saved from working at Thatcher Tire to support them both.

He still had nothing going for him in Hawkins though. The harsh glares and pointed insults had only worsened since Chrissy’s death. He had to leave. But, he’d always been a coward at heart and he wasn’t brave enough to leave on his own. He would be trapped in the town that hated him until he died or something happened to force him out.

The one thing he had still was his family. It had lost several members but it had gained even more. The Party had managed to creep passed his defenses to find a place in his broken heart. Steve and Robin in particular grew close to him, assigning themselves best friends of Eddie Munson 1 and 2, respectively. They would hang out around Wayne’s new trailer, bother him at work, and he’d bother them at theirs.

It was on one of these impromptu hang-out sessions that a spark of hope developed in his chest. He’d been mourning his cowardice and inability to leave in silence until Steve started complaining about feeling trapped in his empty home. It was then that Eddie saw an opportunity.

“I don’t know, man. I know it sounds stupid, how can I feel trapped in a big house? But there’s just nothing there! And it’s, it’s suffocating, man. I don’t know how much longer I can stay there.”

Steve murmured his words against the end of a cigarette, his body leaning against the side of the car that Eddie was pretending to work on. But how was he supposed to focus on changing a timing belt when the object of his affections was expressing a will to leave?

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Eddie nearly fell over as he rushed to reassure him. “Hell, I’ve felt suffocated since I got here.”

Steve hummed softly and took a puff of his cigarette.

Eddie smirked sardonically and chuckled to himself. “Maybe we should leave together. You could stop being a ghost in your parents house and I could stop being the murderer that killed his classmates. We could get a place together and decorate it half jock, half metal. That’d be a sight.”

Steve looked over at him with squinted eyes. “Really? You’d want to leave with me?”

“Why not? You’re one of my best friends, Stevie. I’d love to leave with you.”

The suspicion melted from Steve’s expression and a genuine smile took its place. He dropped the cigarette to the gravel ground, pulled the tool from Eddie’s hand and pulled him into an all-encompassing hug.

“Let’s do it! You and me. And Robin, I don’t think she’d let me move without her. We’re a package deal, if that’s okay.”

Eddie laughed and it’s him, high in the moment despite it all being a joke. “Of course! You can bring your emotional support lesbian and I’ll bring my Sweetheart. Then we’ll take the world by storm.”

Steve held onto him for another few moments before pulling away. “Okay, when do you want to leave?”

The smile fell from Eddie’s face. “Wha- seriously? You actually want to leave with me?”

“Um, yes? I feel like I made that pretty obvious.”

Eddie blinked. “Um, okay. How about the end of the summer. Then we’ll have enough time to find a place and raise some cash.”

Steve grinned. “Sounds good! I’ll tell Robin. See you later, Eds!”

Eddie could only watch him skip to his car in shock. Steve continued to surprise the hell out of him. He’d shocked him in the Upside Down by being a genuinely good guy. Again when he’d fought the entire basketball team two weeks afterward to protect Eddie’s honor. And now with plans to rescue him from the stifling hatred of Hawkins.

When he pulls him into a gentle kiss as soon as they step into the apartment with Robin behind them griping about carrying all the bags, that’s a nice surprise too.

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[mvltisstuff]

cardigan - e.d

summary: when meeting eddie’s family, things don’t go over as well as y/n hoped; that doesn’t change all of the things he loves about her.

eddie diaz x reader

i have state testing and finals coming up so i will be editing this as soon as i can, but i wanted to get it up anyway :)) also i love spanish so this was so fun to write, hopefully it was accurate!

y/n was sitting in the passengers seat of eddie’s shiny car, with christopher in the back. one of eddie’s hands was on the wheel, the other was laying on her thigh. his deep, black sunglasses were shielding his eyes from the bright morning sun. looking back at chris, he had a shining smile on his face with a game in his lap that he had convinced eddie to let him bring.

the group had been down in el paso, visiting the family as they were having a get together. eddie figured it was the perfect time to introduce y/n to the people who grew up with him. obviously, it could go either way, but eddie absolutely admired her and couldn’t see how they wouldn’t either.

y/n’s knee had been bouncing up and down through the slit of her floral dress. it was black with magenta flowers, and her hair had a few casual pieces in the front hanging out. that was one of the things eddie loves about her. she can wear a nice old dress and have her hair blowing in the wind and look radiant. despite the worry free look on her face, the body language gave it away to eddie.

“you nervous?” he asks, looking over at her when stopping. she peeks back over to him.

“a little, honestly. i’m excited, though. i’m looking forward to meeting your tía,” she says, coming up with a response. “i mean, i would get nervous meeting anyone’s family.”

“they’re going to love you, and my abuela has been talking about you non-stop and she doesn’t even know you yet,” eddie tells her, trying to calm her nerves. y/n laughs and thinks about all the stories she’s been told about his family. she feels a little better in the moment, but still anxious for the moment when her character becomes involved.

they drive up to the small texas house, and eddie’s abuela was waiting by the door. “pepa! ¡están aquí!”

eddie and y/n open their doors, and y/n goes to help chris out while eddie greets his family. “hola, abuela,” eddie says, pulling her in for an embrace. his aunt had arrived before him, and she ran out besides his abuela.

“¡Ay, edmundo!” his tía announces. “we’ve been waiting all day for you three,” she says, pointing to y/n walking up patiently with christopher. “hola, mis amores.” she plants sweet kisses on christopher’s head before passing him onto his bisabuela. she takes a hold of y/n’s hands, and pulls her into a hug. “you must be y/n!”

she pulls back, taking a look at y/n as eddie watches with a wide grin on his face. he knows they love her already as she can mesh in so well. “¡qué guapa eres, edmundo!”

y/n blushes at his aunts words, and says, “you guys are so lovely, thank you for inviting me!”

“you are welcome any time, y/n!” his abuela says.

“i brought you these flowers,” y/n hands her a bouquet of yellow and orange flowers. “i grew them at my house and picked some out for you.”

“eddie, i love her already.”

walking around the comforting home, christopher leads y/n and eddie through, showing her around and introducing her to various diaz family members. eddie stops her in her tracks and turns her around. “i told you they would love you.”

even though y/n tried to hide it, she was scared to come. eddie had opened up about his relationship with his father and even with his relationship with shannon. he was scared too, worried about how he would react after what happened with shannon. eddie wasn’t sure if he was ready for a relationship, but after meeting y/n and being confronted with her elegance, he was already falling for her. she carried herself around with grave and empathy for everyone she meets. at work, she was the sweetest to her patients and her co-workers. everyone loves her, and eddie more than the rest. watching her play with his son and treat him like any other kid was the best thing he could ask of her, and he didn’t even have to. the second she met him, they were laughing together and she never once thought of him as a burden or something eddie had just been left with. being the most important thing in his life, eddie always makes sure christopher is happy, and watching his happiness grow when she’s around makes his heart soar.

“i’m glad they like me, they seem lovely, eddie.”

“they are, i really lucked out having them. but i will say none of my past relationships have gone that well in the first 10 minutes.”

“i guess i’m just special then, no?” she asks, jokingly while throwing a little grin on her face. eddie lands a quick kiss on her lips before showing her through the rest. when he finally greets his parents, they give y/n respectful smiles, but nothing more.

“i’m y/n, i just wanted to say thank you for having me,” y/n decides to break the silence and tell them.

“it’s no problem, y/n,” his mother, helena, says.

after sitting down for a while outside during the gathering, eddie has a comforting hand across her shoulders. they both had beers and were watching chris play in the distance before their peace was disturbed.

“so, y/n?” his father starts. “what do you do for work? eddie tells us you are at the station as well.”

“i am, im a paramedic,” she informs, raising the corners of her mouth slightly. “i’ve been working there for about a year more than eddie has.”

“and you like it?” he asks, almost interrogating her. she understands though, she would do the same thing if she had children. although, she was also aware of his relationship with eddie, and eddie having to deal with his absence for work sometimes. his father is a respected man, and definitely an important figure. despite these qualities, y/n can’t help but feel intimidated.

“i love it, it’s very rewarding being able to help people in their moment,” around the table, tía pepa and his abuela are looking gently at her, smiling.

“you didn’t think of anything else?”

“papí…” eddie warns.

“edmundo, he’s allowed to ask!” his mother defends back, still having mixed feelings about her.

eddie was confused as they couldn’t have heard bad things about her. internally, y/n was panicking. she had tried so hard to try and make the best impression she could, and this was just a little hill she had to get over. she was hoping to really hit it off with his parents, but it seemed more complicated than she hoped.

his parents had liked her to an extent, but worried her kindness was an act. eddie knew they were thinking this, and he was ready to fight back in defense of his girl. nothing y/n ever did was an act, and every one of her intentions was pure and out of the good of her heart. she seemed like a good person, but not as much as she might come across. she fought for validation from her parents every single day, battling with her siblings for their affection. she always tries her best to grow that kind of relationship with other people, or make sure they know that she will be there for them. eddie and y/n had different childhoods, but they’re so similar in the way they can connect through them. she tries her best to open up about her parents and how she decided to move away to him, but it still gets hard. she tries to portray that in other ways, and showing her love for others is one.

“eddie, it’s alright!” she says, not erasing any smile from her face but not being able to conceal her uncomforted mood. “i, um, decided to move away from where i grew up. so i moved to los angeles and started my training.”

“so, you left your family and went across the country?”

y/n mumbles a bit, not knowing what she should say. she looks at eddie for help, who gives his father a stare in hopes to take the spotlight off her. he knows how overwhelmed it makes her to talk about her family, let alone with people she’s never met before. he gives her hand an encouraging squeeze and brings it up to leave a kiss on her knuckles.

“well, it is a great place for opportunity! i’ve heard many people succeed from moving there.” pepa adds.

“uh, my parents didn’t support my job, but i knew it’s what i wanted.” she says, trying to explain her situation. his parents nod, almost in a disapproving way that brings her back to her parents. the stress becomes a lot to deal with, just from sitting on the back porch of the families house. she blinks rapidly, covering up any tears and being able to beat them away. luckily, no one noticed, but eddie is able to see through it. the noises from everything around her, but especially the silence from eddie’s elders. her knee begins to bounce again and she tries to stop it with her shaking hands, removing them from eddie’s grasp. “hey, can you show me to the bathroom, love?”

“yeah, of course,” eddie stands up and leads her inside, bringing her to the hallway so no one can hear them.

“¡ay, ramón! ¿por qué lo dices?” eddie hears come from the backyard, the familiar voice coming from his loving aunt.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he starts. “i don’t know why he would say that, i told my abuela-“

“no, eddie, stop. it’s ok, i understand!”

“it’s really not ok, they have no clue what you had going on at home.”

“they’re allowed to ask questions, i cant avoid it forever,” she finishes, her eyes beginning to well up before she wipes them away and shakes her head. “i’m just going to take a minute, i’ll be back out.”

eddie nods, pulling her in and placing his hands around her waist. “i’ll be outside.”

walking back out, eddie throws out his empty beer bottle, and sits back down after grabbing a new one. the tension between him and his parents is thickening by the minute and everyone can feel it. “you can’t even ask if she’s alright?”

“eddie, she just stormed out, what do you expect us to say?” his mother says.

“because you made her uncomfortable!” he shouts, but trying to keep his volume down. “you have no clue what she’s been through or why she left home because she is not going to tell you everything. your immediate disapproval is what reminded her of her own parents. she was so excited to come here and meet you, she spent hours picking those flowers out for you and you spend this time nit-picking her. i’m not going to put her through that, i can’t watch her suffer in the shitty memories of her parents again.”

his parents faces had dropped slightly, regretting their aggressive questions, but still not fully understanding. they didn’t want her to feel bad about herself, but eddie grew up with very passionate parents. they want to keep their children safe and make sure they’re happy.

“i think we’re going to call it a night,” eddie says, standing up to go get his son. “chris! cmon bud. adiòs.”

his aunt and his abuela follow him outside, going to show them out. they didn’t fight it, because there was no fighting eddie. he knew what he wanted and his passion for y/n made the decision to leave the gathering final. he was upset, but he wouldn’t be forever. he knew she needed some time to refocus.

y/n had come out, eddie holding her hand all the way to the car. the light orange glow from the sun was making her skin shine and pointed out her slightly red cheeks.

“y/n! we are so sorry, amor,” his abuela says. “we would love to have you again sometime, you were absolutely a delight.”

“thank you so much, i’d love to see you again sometime!” she says quietly but thankfully before departing to the passengers seat of the car.

before starting the car, eddie leans over and hugs her. she wraps her arms around his neck and breathes slowly. “that could’ve gone worse, right?”

“i don’t know what their problem was tonight, that was so uncalled for.” he says in a whisper so christopher doesn’t ask questions. “but i still love you. that’s never going to change no matter what they say. because their words will never change the way i see you and your beauty,” he pauses, taking a moment to peck her cheeks and forehead. “your kindness,” he adds, “y tu corazón.” he leaves a little wink and smirk at the end.

“it’s ok,” she laughs, and eddie is relieved to see the smile return back to her face. “you know i love you so much, too.”

several days later, still on their trip in el paso, y/n and eddie hear the ring of a doorbell on their rented home. y/n walks out of the door, looking at the massive bouquet of flowers sitting on the front steps in the scalding texan sun. she scoops them up and carries them inside.

it was quite early, christopher was still fast asleep and would be for a while. eddie was yet to be out of bed after y/n left his hold. however, when he heard the door open, he pulled himself out of the shared bed. when he walked into the small kitchen, y/n was examining the flowers with a peaceful expression.

she was reading the tag attached to the pot, which said

“un regalo para ti <3

Lo siento, y/n,

- helena y ramón”

a grin grew on y/n’s face. she was taking in the true effort they’ve put into this. eddie stood behind her, placing his hands on her waist and his chin on her shoulder, reading the note. “i didn’t really know they had that in them,” eddie says.

“that means a lot, though,” she replies. “they didn’t have to do this, i should call and say thank you!”

“we can later, mi vida,” eddie starts, smiling at his girlfriend. “let me go make up for yesterday evening for now.” he says, picking her up and carrying her back to their rented bed.

[keeksandgigz]

lavender syrup (part one of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: Eddie is the owner of the most popular cafe in his small town, "The Mad Alchemist," you are the owner of the rival cafe "Daily Drug". You obviously hate each other, but when a pipe bursts into your cafe that might take months to repair, your contractor assigns you and your coworkers to work with Eddie in order to keep your job, just until "Daily Drug" is ready to run again. Is tolerating him really that big of a feat?

cw: 4k words, swearing, modern setting, allusions to smut but nothing explicit (yet), Eddie calls reader a bitch a couple times and he's such a condescending asshole but in a hot way, i feel like the sexual tension needs its own tw, Steve is also in this &lt;3

a/n: pls like and reblog and feedback is always so very much appreciated!! my requests are always open if u wanna chat &lt;3

divider by @benkeibear

Eddie Munson wasn’t the type to want much from life. He was content in his little town, managing the coffee shop that kept it alive. From the early morning crew of truckers, farmers, nurses and cops to the 9 am rushes of the corporate job workers from one town over to the yoga moms, the high schoolers after the ring of the last bell. Eddie Munson did not have any big plans for his life. The little coffee shop made him enough money that he was able to take care of his uncle, now retired, and live by himself in a small apartment with his roommate, Steve. 

He got an associate’s degree in business, and after that he opened “The Mad Alchemist Cafe,” a DnD themed rustic coffee shop filled with beakers, lights and plants. The exposed brick the “interior designer” (it really was just a friend who had a good eye) begged him to paint over was instead littered with posters of announcements. He would host poetry slams, band performances, most importantly DnD campaigns he'd have to close down the cafe for in the evenings. For a few years he had also been hosting Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners for those who didn’t have a family to go home to for the holidays. 

He hired his roommate and closest friend, Steve to be the baker. Straight out of cooking school, Steve Harrington took care of the sweet and savory. The thousand- layer croissants that would melt once slightly placed on the tip of the tongue. Airy, buttery pastry that made Eddie's customers sigh with every bite, as they lingered on the wooden bar, conversing with the baristas. The lunch hour crew, asking for meatball sandwiches and messy pasta bowls. He’d make turkeys for the dinners at the cafe, during the holiday season, along with insurmountable potato dishes and stuffing. 

Eddie's life was littered with small sprinkles of joy. Everyone knew him as the kid from the cafe, with his long hair, sticking out of the messy bun he would wear to work. It started off as a joke in middle school, when Eddie's hair was buzzed due to a lice epidemic. Steve had miserably beat him at the arcade. He had grown fond of the long hair though, and added to the mystique of his coffee shop. It was also metal as fuck.

He felt like he was the main accessory to his lovely brick building; there would not have been  “The Mad Alchemist Cafe” without Eddie Munson, something that both staff and customers knew. The cafe would also not have been the cafe without the three years long rivalry with the only other cafe on their side of town, “Daily Drug” that opened a year after Eddie’s. The brand new establishment that started taking customers from him, claiming that their chai lattes and breakfast sandwiches were to die for.

Eddie had not interacted much with you, the owner of the cafe. Your bossy, stuck up and overall terrible attitude were a house trade mark there. He had been in the cafe though, and understood why “Daily Drug” was such an incredible contender to his establishment. The ambiance was different, like a Pinterest board had come to life. The pink and blue tile that decorated the walls as well as the ironic bitchy posters that ranged from a snarky “What are you looking at?” to a direct and curt “don’t be an asshole” decorated the walls. 

It was nothing like the cafe Eddie had imagined, the colorful palette contrasting with the caricaturistic mean and sarcastic ways of the staff, whose bitterness might have actually improved the taste of their coffee, as their lavender lattes tasted way sweeter, the syrup not overpowering the taste of the coffee, perfectly blended with the best milk for the beverage, which he found was almond.

You could have easily spat in his cup, but you serve him with feigned kindness as you make sure to make him hear a soundly “UGH could he be any more annoying?” to a blonde haired coworker, whose name he finds out later is Colette. Colette erupts in laughter as she serves his lavender latte with an egg and sausage burrito with a side of aggressive side eye. You had definitely spat in his drink. 

A fifteen- minute car ride later, Eddie enters his cafe begrudged by his inability to master a lavender latte. The taste of his in- house lavender syrup is too artificial, while “Daily Drug”’s try as he might is a flavor that he had never encountered.

The lavender provides a sweet flavor to the drink that pairs perfectly with the bitter coffee and the creamy taste of the almond milk without the artificial aftertaste. He beelines to the back of the building, to the room he called his lab, setting down his bag on a stool next to him as he takes a bored bite out of the egg and sausage burrito. Hm. Steve's is better. 

He jots down some notes in his journal. Try lemon for lavender syrup. Fennel seed in the sausage. Paprika maybe? Definitely garlic. He should have listened to his uncle and he should have gone to cooking school before he had opened the restaurant. He knew that he had the talent for it, Steve had even asked him to apply together, but he felt like it was not his true calling. 

“Your true calling is bossing everyone around, Ed” said his uncle with a laugh, one of the many sleepless nights he had spent mulling over the cafe during its early days. A knock startles him from his reverie. It's Steve. 

“Hey, didn’t see you come in. Are you still stressing over that lavender syrup thing?” he leans on the doorframe, half smiling at Eddie. He came in too early. Him and Steve were kind of the same in that regard, once haunted by an idea, they would not rest until it was executed. 

“What was it this morning? Strawberry frosting on matcha rolls?” says Eddie taking another bite out of his stale burrito.

"Nah, it's for the Halloween special, I'm trying to figure out the menu. We need to remember to add more nutmeg to the pumpkin spice syrup this year" Steve says, crossing his arms.

"Shit, yeah, I almost forgot. Also, this" Eddie shakes his burrito towards his friend "does not compare to yours by, like, miles. The sausage is too dry and the egg too cooked" Steve shrugs and fixes his glasses with a smug smile.

"Knew it." Eddie laughs at that, then proceeds to scribble in his leather bound notebook. Then the phone rings.

"Hey Steve, do you mind getting that?" Eddie says, not moving his head from the notebook.

"You got it boss" Steve heads towards the phone in Eddie's office.

"'Mad Alchemist Cafe' Steve speaking...Mhm...yeah, Eddie's in...oh shit" at that, Eddie turns his head.

"What is it, what's wrong Steve?" his tone alarmed as he paces towards the phone.

"Yeah no he's here you can talk to him, Jim" Steve passes the phone, making a face, the corners of his mouth pulled as if he were in trouble. "It's Jim" his contractor. Fuck.

Eddie presses the phone to his ear "Hey Jim, what's up?" his tone tense and cautious.

"Hey, kid, I don't know how to tell you this, but a pipe burst at 'Daily Drug'" Jim sounds scared, but Eddie is still struggling to figure out what that had to do with him, other than the fact that he would finally get back his traitorous customers who had gone to the dark side when “Daily Drug” opened.

"Yeah, ok, and that's my problem because?" he's annoyed at the ominous way Jim called at 8 in the morning concerned for his rival cafe's burst pipes.

"Are you sitting down, kid?" Ed rolls his eyes, he's getting seriously pissed off at this whole mystery thing his contractor's getting at.

"Yeah, Jim. Fuck sake just spit it out"

"Alright, alright no need to get aggressive" Jim takes a deep breath in "In order for the girls at 'Daily Drug' to keep their jobs you need to hire them, at least until the shop is up and running again." Oh shit indeed. Jim trails off, waiting for a reaction.

"How long Jim?" Eddie's fuming.

"It could take up to six months, really, the pipe fucked up the whole kitchen so they need to redo the back and stuff, hell it might take a year knowing how slow these fuckers operate" Jim exhales, he's probably shaking. Eddie did not make his contempt for “Daily Drug” unknown.

“Jesus Christ Jim you can’t do this to me. You know how much that- that bitch hates me. Everytime I go there I'm pretty sure she spits in my coffee. I'm actually convinced they all do, Jim" he's spiraling.

"C'mon kid, don't be stupid. That would violate an incredibly long amount of regulations and they would need to close down if it were true. Which I don't think it is" Jim sounds like he's finding this amusing now.

"This is not funny. And- and then what? The owner just comes in here and she starts actin' like she owns the place? We start sharing responsibilities? That's real cute, Jim, y'know that? Incredibly cute." Only then Eddie had notices how hard he had been gripping the phone. And the armrest of his chair.

"Eddie, you're throwing a tantrum. The owner doesn't hate you, they're hired under the agency and I just pulled some strings because I know you and these girls- these girls have families to support and I didn't want to scatter them all across town. I know they will be in good hands, they're not your employees, Eddie. Get it in that thick skull or I'm closing your shit down" Fuck. He's backed up into a corner.

"Alright. When do they start?" He grabs a pen and a piece of paper and scribbles Daily Drug start dates.

"Okay, so we have eight employees. Four of them are going across town, I have that cafe there. The rest are going to you- Virginia, Colette, Chrissy and the owner are all going to your cafe. They start tomorrow at 9 am. Better brush up on those training books, kid." Jim snickers.

"You're hilarious, Jim y'know that?" he quickly jots down the names and the time, stopping at your name for a second, before putting an angry face next to it.

"Aw, come on, kid. Maybe it might be a great way for you all to bond and put this stupid rivalry behind"

"Yeah- yeah no, and then we're gonna ride on the rainbow towards a pot of gold and do a little jig. Of course, Jim. I am healed already. Listen, I'll call you tomorrow after everything- if that bitch doesn't put a knife at my throat, speaking of, I should hide them" he seethes.

"Don't stress Ed. You'll be okay, what matters is that-" Jim never gets to finish that sentence, blocked by the violent slam of Eddie's phone back into its socket.

"FUCKING SHIT" he yells, kicking the bottom of his desk.

"I take it wasn't good news?" Steve leans on the threshold of Eddie's office.

"Steve- God I want to punch something. The owner of 'Daily Drug' in here. She's gonna kill me. Hide the knives"

"If I didn't know you like the back of my hand I'd say you're a little scared of her, Ed."

"Have you seen her? She's terrifying. So mean. I'd be turned on if she wasn't my archenemy" and he does have eyes, he thinks you're attractive. He's fantasized about putting you in your place, sometimes. About shutting your mouth up, see how witty you were after he'd make you go dumb from a few rounds.

He shakes his head. He has to stop.

"Well, maybe you can be nice to her so we can steal her lavender syrup recipe" Steve suggests. And as morally wrong as that sounds, you've spit in his drink before, so what's a bit of foul play compared to an FDA violation?

"Steven you might be onto something, but for now let's just worry about surviving tomorrow- God I know it's gonna be awful" Eddie says. As he said that, one of his employees, Jeff, comes knocking at his office.

"Eddie, the owner of the other cafe is here, she's asking for you." Eddie's eyes widen. The fuck is she doing here?

"The fuck- Okay thank you, Jeff. Send her back here." He dismisses his barista and Steve follows him back into the kitchen.

There is no hiding you're angry. Starting a job at a place where you knew everyone hated you seemed a bit of a cunt move from Jim, and there you are. Heading towards Eddie Munson's office, walking like you own the damn place.

"You look a little too sure of yourself for someone who lost their cafe, sweetheart. What is it, hm? What are you doing here?"

His condescending tone only stokes your anger more.

"I just came here to see the place, see if I have to dumb myself down. Maybe you guys don't know what cortados are" Feigned pity in your face.

"If you've come here to be a bitch you can go right home. One call to Jim and I can end this arrangement as quickly as it started, let's not get like that, m'kay?" his smile is devilish and god it's so hard to not find him attractive even when you want to rip him to shreds for threatening you.

"I didn't come here to bitch. I wanted to pick up our aprons? You guys have cute aprons. At least you have good taste in something" you scoff, and he shoots you a look. Fucking brat.

"Yeah- um" Eddie stands up from his desk and reaches for a box in the corner of his office "I'll give you two each. Try to keep 'em clean, I don't like dirty aprons. I've seen how messy you guys are at the cafe, that won't fly here 'kay? We really value cleanliness and order here"

"How clean can a cafe run by a man really be, huh? that's probably why your lights are so dim" he wants to kill you, but also pin you against the wall and shove his tongue down your throat so you can stop talking.

"You've had a long morning, sweetheart. Why don't you go home and sleep it off? I'm afraid you're letting off all this negative energy here and we don't want that. Not here" his tone's more stern rather than joking "I'll see ya bright an' early tomorrow morning at nine. Please don't come late, yeah?" he winks at you, cueing you to leave.

As you cross the threshold of the cafe you cannot possibly fathom what was it that left you so flustered and with an insatiable hunger between your thighs.

You pick up your coworker Colette on the way to work the morning after, presenting her with a bagel and all your rage directed towards Eddie. 

“No, Col, you don’t understand. He threatened to call Jim for a little remark. You know how insane that is? He’s gonna use whatever sick power he thinks he has over me to make me stay in line. Nope, no sir not with me” you say, turning into the parking lot of the cafe. 

“This Eddie guy really is an asshole, huh?” Colette remarks, getting out of the car. 

“You have no idea, it’s like he thinks he’s the shit or something just because the whole town loves him” 

“Everyone does love me, sweetheart. Good morning ladies, I’d recommend getting in, you have five minutes.” Eddie's right behind you, closing the trunk of his van, wearing one of his dumb satanic shirts. It's black, arms covered by a ratty black leather jacket. His hair is down and a messenger bag littered with button pins is slung over his shoulder, resting on his hip. All it takes is one snide remark and then he's gone inside the shop. 

You don't realize you're staring until Colette pinches the back of your arm, you reach for the affected area. “Babes, not him. Literally anyone but him, you have literally spent the whole car ride talking about how much of an asshole he is” 

“I have eyes, Col. He’s hot, and as much as I’d love to sleep with him, my hatred for this asshole is a bit too strong. I’d probably punch him mid- act anyway” you snicker and follow Eddie inside the store. Virginia and Chrissy are already inside, you shoot them a comforting look and a light touch to Virginia’s arm, who seriously lookes like she's about to cry.

“You okay, Gin?” you ask, lightly elbowing her arm. 

“No, I- I’m okay. Just nervous, also a bit scared. The boss seems mean” she trembles. She's only seventeen, after all. She's been working since she had been able to, if not before. Taking babysitting jobs until she turned fifteen, then just started taking customer service jobs, until she stumbled inside “Daily Drug,” with the extensive resume she had, she had been easy to hire. 

“He’s an asshole, but don’t let him intimidate you. He can’t do anything without Jim’s approval, just remember that, hun” you squeeze her arm as Eddie enters, having shed his jacket, putting his hair up, and tying the purple apron around his waist. A small, golden tag says his name on the right side of his chest. 

“Good morning, ladies. My name is Eddie, the owner of this fine establishment” he bows, smirking. “The crew at “Mad Alchemist” is deeply sorry about what happened at your cafe. We will do everything in our power to make you guys feel welcome for your short stay here” at the mention of “short” his eyes dart at you. You’re not the only one who hopes this bullshit will be short, dickhead.

You step forward, putting your best polite face on. “Thanks, Eddie. We’re extremely grateful for the opportunity to keep working, and we hope to learn from our time here” you say through gritted teeth. Even being that nice to him feels like nails on a chalkboard on your brain. “These are my baristas- Virginia, Chrissy, and Colette, my baker” you point at each of your girls. 

“Oh Colette, you’re gonna want to meet with Steve, then- He’s my baker and pastry chef. I’m sure you both have a lot of things to talk about, and a lot of work to do since our Halloween special will be dropping in a week from today” a taut smile appears on his lips. 

The guy in the back with the gorgeous head of hair and round glasses whom you assume is Steve waves his hand and Colette shoots you an assuring look before she runs to him, disappearing in the back, where you assume the pastry shop is. 

No one to run to now.

"Perfect, shall we begin?" Eddie's voice feels muffled in your ears as he assigns each one of his baristas to one of yours for training. The cafe has just passed its early morning peak time, meaning that in a couple hours you will have a lunch rush. Everything feels like it's moving too fast.

The noises around you become clear again when Eddie grazes the bare skin of your arm. You shiver. Unbeknownst to you, his hand flexes at his side.

"Scared, sweetheart? You look like you've seen a ghost..." his mouth is moving, but you can't understand anything of whatever he's saying. You're unconsciously rubbing the area Eddie had touched, his fingers warm yet rough, from all the times he's had to wash his hands throughout the day.

You haven't noticed until now how thick his fingers are. Suddenly, the feeling of a phantom limb reaching out, wrapping a hand around your throat, gently feeling its way down your neck, your shoulders, your clavicle, down your stomach and into-

"You wanna follow me to my office or what? I have a couple questions for you" Eddie breaks you out of your sick reverie, leaving you a bit flushed in the face, afraid to look at him in the eye.

"Yeah-uh sorry. Lead the way" you say, and suddenly the floor becomes very interesting to look at.

Quickly, everyone gets to work. The girls being taught the house drinks by the guys at the bar, whilst you follow Eddie in his office. 

“I just need to know if there’s any schedule preferences from the girls, just in case there’s any conflict. I was thinking, since the Halloween special will be dropping, one of these days you might need to sit in here with me and I’ll give you a proper training of what that entails. Y’know tastings and such.” His demeanor has switched from snarky to utterly professional, for which you thank whatever entity in the sky, allowing you a break from his abrasive behavior. 

He sits down at his desk and pulls out a notepad and a pen. He looks at you with waiting eyes.

“Yeah, um, Virginia has school during the week and can’t work until after three and she can only work four hours on weekdays, three days a week and usually a full shift during the weekend. Chrissy and Colette can work whenever, but please don’t schedule Col at the early hours of the mornings, she actually cannot function. She’s more useful to you awake” you let out a breathy laugh, remembering Colette putting salt instead of sugar in a batch of banana bread muffins. 

In the meantime, Eddie scribbles on his notepad. You feel uneasy in a room with him without the loud tensions of an argument looming, the blood booming in your ears. 

“And you?” he raises an eyebrow, lifting his face from the notepad. 

“Oh, I’ll just come in whenever you need me. I really don’t mind, I just need a good amount of hours. I um- I have my dad to take at the hospital on Saturday mornings, but I can come after” you say, your face tinging a bright red. 

 He scribbles that down, embarrassment visible on your face as the tension in the room becomes suffocating. 

“Alright, I’ll have those schedules ready by the end of the day. I need you to come in tomorrow through Wednesday. Opening shift Monday and Tuesday, you’ll close with me and Chrissy on Wednesday. Sounds good?” he keeps writing down in his notepad, you nod. He tuts “I need words, I can’t see you nodding or shaking your head if I’m writing, can I?” 

“Y-yeah, that sounds good. Sorry” You feel even more embarrassed, the tops of your ears tinging red. 

“Don’t apologize. Just do better next time” Eddie thrums a ringed hand on the edge of his desk. He's never seen you this docile and it puts him off. He was hoping for some snide remark, but you're looking around nervously, playing with the laces of your apron, which he finds enhances the curves and features of your body. Wondering what you’d look like in nothing but that apron, all the exposed skin of your back, shoulders and– 

“Are we done here?” there she is. The snarky question makes him jump, thanking the desk for covering the lower half of his body. 

“Yeah, I can go train you now, just gimme a sec, I’ll meet you outside” I need to get rid of that boner is what he means, but you don't budge. 

“Fuck no, you’re not training me. Gimme someone else” you remark, crossing your arms. 

“God there I thought you weren’t gonna be a bitch today.” He exhales. “How many people do you see in the staff, huh? It's Steve, Gareth, Jeff and I. Not much of a merry group. You either let me train you or the door is that way.” you can tell he’s had enough of you, which only stokes your fire even more.

“Literally anyone but you. You can train Virginia, I’m sure you have a bit of heart to not be a dick to a literal child. Not that she even needs training, she has more knowledge and better work ethics than you assholes” you spit, and you’re sure Eddie wants to kill you. 

“I don’t tolerate this kind of language in my store. I’m sure that’s what attracted all my customers to your store, but you can shut that filthy mouth in here. Now, you’re gonna go out and wait for me to train you, understood?” he's seething. 

“Or what? You can’t do shit Eddie. I’m not your little employee, you can’t fucking threaten me” you're winded, this argument is stupid and you want to punch him. 

“Alright” Eddie stands up abruptly and stalks towards you. “train yourself then.”

His tone is calm and collected, which makes you tremble. He's close. Really close.

“I wanna watch you crash and burn and struggle to make a dragon’s breath latte. You don’t want me to train you? Fine. Perfect. The less time I have to spend away from your bitch mouth the better my day will be. Recipe cards are on the counter. Have fun” he taps his hand on your shoulder and gives you a pulled smile, then walks back to his desk. 

He's fucking brutal.

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished

ok wow a lot of you really love my Eddie in the UD with Will au and want that in fruition, huh… so by popular demand here’s like a very rough oneshot. Basically a first draft that sets up the overall plot until i write a better one someday in the future

Edit: I lied, here’s the other parts (ongoing): Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 now on ao3!

Wayne doesn’t hear the news of Will Byers’ disappearance until the afternoon workers come in. Within minutes, the whole plant is buzzing with bewilderment and sympathy. But there is also an underline of fear that struck some of the hearts of the family men. Hawkins hadn’t seen any child disappearance cases, at least not since Wayne moved to the town in the last decade.

He is worried about the boy, especially for the Byers family. He doesn’t know Joyce too well, but they’ve talked plenty at Melvard’s with stories of their boys being quietly mischievous. Wayne sent a silent prayer that Will can be found soon and bring his mother peace.

He doesn’t speed the drive way home, but it’s damn close. He just wants Eddie to be home safe without some boogeyman taking him away.

Thankfully, his nephew is on the couch and watching a movie. He greets Wayne with a lazy wave, “Weren’t enough leftovers so I made some dinner. Hope you won’t die from my veggie soup.”

Wayne ruffles his hair - which had grown past his ears now - and sits next to him. “You heard about the Byers boy?”

“Hm, yeah. Everyone was talking about it. Saw Jonathan putting up the flyers too.” Eddie says, his eyes still on the TV.

Wayne puts an arm around him, making Eddie look at him. “Ya know that if you ever go missing, I’ll search even the lands of Hell for you.”

Eddie’s quiet. He stares with misty eyes, which he quickly blinks away. Then he lightly shoves at Wayne’s ribs. “‘Course, you would, old man. I’m the only family you care about.”

“Hey, don’t go disrespecting your cousins like that.” Wayne jokes back, making Eddie laugh. The two of them watch the movie in comfortable silence until Wayne has the mind to get up and shower.

—

It’s a double shift today. It means extra pay but it also means Wayne wouldn’t be home until early morning. He tells Eddie this before leaving and Eddie says it’s fine as usual, only that he had band practice so he’ll be coming home late. Wayne tells him make sure to stay safe too.

The next morning comes as the second day of Will Byers’ disappearance. Wayne is predictably sore and tired, but his mind remains sharp as stone.

It’s why he doesn’t miss that Eddie’s van isn’t parked next to the trailer.

The small pebble of concern forms in his stomach, but he brushes it off. Eddie’s been going to go to school early lately so it’s not unusual.

But that pebble feels like a rock when he heads to the kitchen and finds no note on the table.

When Wayne first took in Eddie, who was skittish and mute back then, he started writing notes and leaving them next to Eddie’s plate of breakfast. It was little things like ‘eggs are better runny’ and ‘don’t remember toast being this toasted’. A way to get the boy to slowly open up. Not only it worked, but Eddie soon started writing his own notes, mostly of jokes that always made Wayne laugh heartedly.

Even at seventeen, Eddie never missed a day of breakfast without a note.

Wayne makes himself take a deep breath. There wasn’t any reason to get worried. Eddie might’ve been tired or was in some kind of rush. But even then, he would make doodles to make up a lack of written words.

Just check him at the school. He’ll still be there, even if he’s missing classes.

So Wayne leaves and drives en route to Hawkins High, the secret bane of his existence. (Not that he’ll confess that to Eddie. His nephew already has enough of an ego.)

But as he turns at Cherry, he nearly crashes himself into the trees. Because at the corner, parked hazardously at the side, is Eddie’s van.

Wayne gets out in record time, but forces himself to a slow pace. He hopes that anger wouldn’t be on his face when he finds Eddie on the driver’s seat.

But Eddie isn’t in the driver’s seat. In fact, the door is half open. As if it was meant to close but had no force behind it. The front of the van also looks crushed in.

That pebble or rock in his gut grows bigger and heavier when Wayne spots a red handprint stained on the wheel.

Somewhere further in the woods, the search party calls out Will’s name. Wayne is the only one to call out for another.

—

Earlier

Eddie scowled at his bandaged left wrist. He mentally sent a thousand curses for Luka Belinski to jail for a thousand years. The crime? He showed off how easily he can flip his switch knife without getting cut, creating a jealous curiosity within Eddie to try and do the same action. Now his ability to play another instrument was impaired forever!

Seriously, fuck the clarinet players.

He sighed, starting up his van’s engine. He pulled out of the school parking lot, waving to a few peers as he hit the road. He waited until the school was out of view that he changed the radio to David Bowie.

He was in a bad mood. Sue him. Not that anybody can find out.

As he sang along to “Watch That Man”, he felt his left palm oddly sticky. He lifted it up and saw that some of the blood had dripped out his bandage.

“Shit-” was all he said before something crashed in the front of his van. He swore even more loudly, turning the wheel too quickly and pressing the brakes. He thought he heard a loud wail before the van went off the road and finally stopped.

Eddie shakily got out of the van, nearly falling over. His hand pressed against his chest, feeling his wild heartbeat. Before he could inspect the damage, he heard a pained growl. He whipped around and saw a thing standing up long and tall with a face that opened up like the devil’s Venus Flytrap.

What the fuck?!

He ran into the woods. Yeah, nope nope nope fuck that.

Branches snapped behind him and he felt a clawed hand grabbing the back of his jacket. He fell to the ground, screaming and kicking his legs out as he was dragged. His good hand reached out to the scratch the monster’s arm, but his nails barely dug into the gross skin.

There was a weird swoop of vertigo as if Eddie was thrown up in the air. He remained on the ground though, but not until he was actually thrown across. His back hit against a tree, knocking him out for a second.

When his vision cleared, it was to the horrific closeup of the Venus Flytrap face. Eddie opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. The monster growled, its weird toothy mouth drooling over him. He shut his eyes, hoping that he would die painlessly and that Wayne wouldn’t find his body.

Then the monster growled again, with some weird fleshy sounds. Eddie dared to peek an eye open. Its face-mouth was shut and it looked around. Then it hopped to all fours and ran off to another direction.

He forced himself to wait for a full minute before he ran again.

There were few things Eddie realized. One: he had no idea where the fuck he was. Two: he had no idea what the fuck was that thing. Three: holy shit monsters were real and he almost died. Four: was it snowing?

He slowed down his run and reached a hand out. A few snowflakes slowly landed on his fingers, but it didn’t melt or felt cold. It wavered around before he blew them off.

He looked around, trying to guess which way was the road, and saw even something more weird. There were vines practically everywhere. The ground was littered with them. They curled around tree trunks and hang off the branches. Eddie was pretty sure that none of that even existed in the Hawkins woods.

Something blurred to his far right and growled. Eddie went back to running.

He looked back to see if that monster was back and fell off a small ledge. He tumbled and rolled with a yelp, feeling one of his ankles spike in pain. He scrambled to get back on his feet and made direct eye contact with Will Byers.

Seeing the kid’s missing posters everywhere had Eddie memorize the face. Bowlcut hair with a dimpled smile and cheerful eyes. But the kid’s eyes were fearful as he hid under a den of twisted roots.

“Uh…” Eddie said because what the fuck, he just found the missing kid.

Another growl, closer this time.

Will’s eyes snapped up, gesturing wildly to Eddie. “Here, here, quick!”

Eddie crawled in record time into the root den, barely fitting next to Will. He clamped a hand over his mouth as the sounds of the monster approached right above them. It made more sniffing and growling sounds, each one sounding closer…

He glanced at Will, who held a small rock in his hand. For a second, Eddie thought if the kid was gonna hit the monster with it. Instead, Will swiftly threw the rock to his left where it landed loudly against the bushes.

The monster roared so loud Eddie thought his ears burst. It scampered off to the rock’s direction and then everything was quiet.

Will poked his head out and nodded, “It’s gone.” Then he looked at Eddie and Eddie looked at Will.

He brought his hand down from his mouth, suddenly feeling lightheaded. “Don’t tell them I listened to Bowie.”

The last thing Eddie saw and heard before fainting was Will tilting his head in confusion and asking, “What?”

— —

tagging these lovely people for their excitement over this silly au: @unclewaynemunson @steves-strapcollection @hellion-child @sidekick-hero @mmmmwaffles94 @demolitionjetstar @hbyrde36

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie asked you on a date. Maybe. Possibly. But you definitely accepted. (5.6k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, mentions of sex, Reader wears a miniskirt, drinking, tipsiness, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter ten: this foolish lover's game

“I’m telling you: it’s a date.”

Nora flicked through the items on the clearance rack, searching for something in your size. She pulled out a floral shirt, wrinkled her nose, and promptly put it back. 

“It’s 1993. A guy and a girl can hang out without it being something romantic,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fuzziness that filled your head at the potential classification of your upcoming night out with Eddie as a ‘date.’

“Very true. But that’s not the case here.” Nora sighed at the limited clothing choices and at your stubbornness. She stalked over to a rack of regularly-priced skirts, evidently on a mission. “And you know it, too, which is why you asked me to help you choose a new outfit.”

You had done that, though you definitely regretted it now. It had been so long since you’d actually gone out with friends that you really did need new clothes, but you had no idea where to start. 

Enter Nora: best friend extraordinaire. She was just as great at finding clothes that flatter your figure as she was at being a study buddy. Her opinion mattered to you; it was necessary, especially considering the way you currently teemed with self-doubt. 

She plucked a denim miniskirt from the lineup and held it against your waist. “Go try this on,” she said. You reached for the price tag, almost certain that it was out of budget, but she clamped her hand over yours. “My treat. Now, go.”

There was no arguing with her, not while she was shooing you into the dressing room. She clasped your shoulders as she steered you towards a curtain, yanked it open, and shoved you inside. “I’ll wait here,” she said.

You closed the curtain once again, unbuttoning your shorts and letting them fall to the thin carpet below you. 

The skirt hung on its hanger, buttons all along the front, and it was impossible not to imagine Eddie being the one undoing them. His nimble fingers would dance across the seam as he positioned himself between your legs. You could practically feel his hands as they crept further upwards towards that dangerously sensitive part of you—

“Can we stop by the food court when you’re done? I’m dying for one of those cinnamon pretzels.”

The sound of Nora’s voice instantly cooled your heating skin. “Y-Yeah, sure,” you stammered. 

Focus on that, you silently reprimanded yourself. Focus on Auntie Anne’s or Orange Julius or Panda Express—not Eddie tracing his tongue along your inner thighs. 

You stepped into the skirt, warding off any lingering Eddie-related thoughts. Monday night would be like hanging out with Nora or Ben. There was no need to worry about your hair, or your clothes, or your makeup. Eddie was a friend, and only a friend, despite what absurdities your other friends planted in your head. 

With the last button fastened, you allowed yourself to glance at your reflection in the mirror. The denim hugged your curves delicately, providing just a hint of what laid beneath without giving too much away. It looked odd paired with the old t-shirt you’d thrown on this morning, but the right top would make a world of difference. 

Nora clapped her hands together the moment you opened the curtain. Her brown eyes lit up, and a soft squeal of excitement emanated from her throat. 

“You’re gonna have Eddie eating out the palm of your hand,” she declared, reaching out to give you a little spin. 

You gently pulled away from her as though it would offset the fluttering low in your stomach. “I told you, it’s—”

“Yeah, I know. Just two friends going to the bar, pretending they don’t wanna bone each other.” Nora rolled her eyes, already sick of the will they-won’t they song-and-dance. 

You ducked back into the fitting room to change out of the skirt. “He doesn’t wanna bone me.”

“But you wanna bone him?” 

It came out as a question, but you knew she meant as a statement. 

“First of all, stop saying ‘bone.’” You hissed, tugging your shorts back over your legs. “Second, Eddie and I are friends, and he’s taking me out for graduation. End of story.”

Nora’s sigh was audible from the other side of the curtain. “Not ‘end of story.’ You didn’t answer my question. Do you wanna b—have sex with Eddie?”

Your hesitation was enough of an answer for her, and though you couldn’t see her face, you were certain she was grinning when she announced, “I knew it!”

“It’s not like that,” you protested. The fitting room was suddenly far too crowded and depleted of oxygen despite you being its only occupant. You threaded the teeth into your shorts zipper and grabbed the skirt, now heavy in your hand. “Yeah, he’s pretty cute, but—”

“But nothing. C’mon, just admit it: you like Eddie.” You could detect a hint of exasperation in her tone. Frustration, even, or confusion as to why you continually denied yourself life’s small pleasures. 

You couldn’t answer that, either. 

Protest died with the subtle twitch of your lips that gave away the truth. You hated your tells, the ones that swiftly uncovered the feelings you worked diligently to stifle. And you knew that if Nora kept pressing you about this crush, you would eventually break down and divulge it all. 

Not just your burgeoning romantic feelings towards Eddie. Not the way you told bad jokes just to see his lopsided smile and the nose crinkle that often accompanied it. Not the multiple occasions when you caught yourself staring at the muscles in his arms and ached to kiss right along the hardened edge of his biceps. 

Once you said those thoughts out loud, gave them the weight of spoken words, they became real. Able to hurt you when he inevitably didn’t reciprocate them. 

And that terrified you. 

“You have a big ol’ crush on him,” Nora continued, “and he has one on you.”

“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” you mumbled, purposely averting your gaze from hers.

Through peripheral vision, you could see her raise one brow. “Says who?”

Says the song lyrics about his ex-girlfriend. But that was too much to explain, so you slapped on a tight smile and shook the thought away. “Never mind. Let’s just pay for this.”

Nora swiped her credit card with an ease that only comes with the luxury of not having to worry about paying the water bill. She never had to dip into her own savings to keep the lights on. Buying her friend a miniskirt for a maybe-date wasn’t going to affect her grocery budget. 

“I have the perfect pair of Docs to go with this. You can borrow them,” she said, pointedly adding “for your date.” She was either oblivious or didn’t care that the cashier was eavesdropping on your conversation. 

“Not a date.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Nora plucked the bagged skirt from the cashier, flashed her a grateful smile, and shoved it in your direction. “Just answer one question for me—are you gonna wear lace panties underneath this, or cotton?” 

When you once again failed to look at her, her grin widened.  

“That’s what I thought.”

On Monday evening, you found yourself poised in front of the mirror, still fogged from your shower. The inky blue sky leaked into your room through the time-worn blinds, the sun almost fully faded into nighttime, which meant that Eddie would be knocking on your door at any moment. 

The hem of your black fitted t-shirt met the waist of your skirt, the slightest gap between the two fabrics. It wasn’t scandalous by any stretch of the imagination, but it still conveyed one message: you wanted Eddie to look at you. Wanted him to notice your soft skin the way you noticed his flexing muscles, with awe and more lust than you cared to admit. 

Did it all reek of desperation? What if Eddie was wearing the sweatpants he’d donned to remove the wallpaper? Just the possibility of him looking at your own outfit, at the effort you put into your appearance, and realizing you’d interpreted a friendly gesture as a date had you cringing. 

No, this was a bad idea. You had to back out, now. Claim that you weren’t feeling well, maybe even take some ibuprofen in front of him, and promise a raincheck. You did feel the familiar throbbing that accompanied a tension headache, so it wasn’t a total lie—

Knock knock. 

Sweat overrode the antiperspirant you’d lathered on, flooding you with a nervous heat. You frantically wiped your slick palms on the bed sheet like a cat at its scratching post and opened the door. 

Eddie's eyes widened and his tongue brushed over his lower lip. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped to your exposed thighs, drinking in every ounce of visible skin as though it was the only sustenance he’d ever need. His stare was hungry, if only for a moment, before his words broke the trance. 

“You look…good. Pretty.” He swallowed thickly and forced himself to meet your eyes. “Sorry…just not used to seeing you all dressed up.”

Pretty. Eddie Munson thought you were pretty. The notion sent serotonin surging through you, a soft giggle passing through your lips. It was embarrassing, this schoolgirl crush, the way a simple word from him rendered you pathetically speechless.

A barrage of compliments perched themselves on your tongue, waiting to be untethered. He looked good, too; beyond that, he looked handsome. His cream colored shirt was baggy around his torso but clung to his biceps, drawing your attention to the vein that ran up his forearm. 

You willed yourself to say something, anything, to reciprocate his kind words.   

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, mirroring your nervous energy as he gently rocked from the heel to the toe of his Reeboks. “We should get going,” he said.

Opportunity slipped from your grasp; anything you said now would seem like pity. Your only response was a nod as you locked the door and started towards the lobby.

Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.

Mom stood behind the desk, flipping through the check-in sheets with the  cap end of a pen clenched between her teeth. She looked up, blinking in rapid succession when she saw you and Eddie approaching. You weren’t sure what surprised her more: you going out, or the man accompanying you.

“Well, don’t you two look nice!” She grinned, though the smile didn’t quite reach her tired eyes. “What’s the occasion?”

“Just getting a drink,” you said as casually as you could. “Celebrating my—the wallpaper.” It was a lame finish, one that Mom didn’t quite believe, but she lacked the energy to push further. 

Guilt panged in your chest, not just at the lie, but because part of you felt like you were taking advantage of her exhaustion. You couldn’t tell her the real reason for the celebration; bile rose in your throat at the thought. Instead, you smiled and promised to be home before the start of your shift. 

“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Eddie added with a mischievous edge, not sexual in nature but still had your stomach doing somersaults. “I know she can be quite the troublemaker.”

Mom laughed at this, so pure and genuine that you were half-tempted to ask Eddie if you could stay here and talk with her all night. Maybe he could break the news to her, since they seemed to get on well enough.

You felt her watch as Eddie opened the door for you and gave the tiniest bow to let you pass, though you didn’t dare look back at her. Not because she wouldn’t approve—just the opposite. Looking at your mother would confirm what you already knew deep down: she’d be beaming at the sight of you going on a date. 

If that’s what this was. 

Eddie shuffled to walk right by your side, sneakers scuffing against the broken pavement. A flicker of hope ignited within you that he would do something to confirm that this was, in fact, a romantic endeavor and not just two friends getting a drink. Perhaps an arm slung over your shoulder or a hand laced with yours. 

There was only the gentle brush of his fingers against yours, knuckles grazing one another as they nearly slotted together. It was taunting, the way they could be a perfect fit if given the chance. 

You almost went for it, almost grabbed hold of his hand yourself, but fear had you in its own grasp. Even if the benefit outweighed the risk, you couldn’t stop picturing him tugging his hand away from yours in a humiliating show of rejection. 

“You okay? You’re not, like, mad at me again, are you?” Concern creased Eddie’s brows, and your heavy heart realized that the last time you were this quiet around him was after the argument. 

“Not at all. Sorry.” You shot him a reassuring smile. “Just lost in my own thoughts.” You sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t ask you to elaborate on those thoughts. 

Luckily, he just tilted his head towards you, his eyes taking on an even more doe-like quality than usual. “That’s the problem with you smart people: you’re always thinking too much.”

You laughed as you nudged him, your right shoulder colliding with his left. He stumbled slightly, quickly catching himself before he could fully lose his balance. 

“Hey!” He yelped, rubbing his upper arm. The muscles beneath it flexed at his touch. “Don’t damage the merchandise.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I…” You shook your nerves loose and faced him, speaking before you fully lost yourself in his full, waiting lips. “I’d never damage merchandise as priceless as you.”

Eddie stopped in his tracks, the compliment seemingly rebooting his brain. Was it too forward? No, it couldn’t have been; he’d called you pretty just moments before. And it wasn’t as if you’d been forward enough to say he was sexy (though he was) or accidentally emasculated him by pointing out how adorable his soft dimples were (another fact). 

His exhale was a disbelieving chuckle. “I, uh, don’t think anyone’s called me ‘priceless’ before. ‘Worthless,’ maybe, but…” He trailed off in an attempt to contain it as a lighthearted joke, but it was anchored by an undeniable truth. 

If you could, you would wash away the ego-marring stains left behind by those who hurt him. Scrub and scrub until it was once again pristine as though they’d never been tarnished by self-doubt. 

“Priceless.” You said it definitively, leaving no room for further argument. 

Eddie ducked behind his hair, letting the curly locks dangle over his mouth to mask his flustered smile. You were willing to bet that a blush was spreading across the apples of his cheeks. 

Curiosity loosened your inhibitions enough for you to reach out and tuck a few strands behind his ear. Sure enough, a delicate pink tinged his skin. You wanted to kiss it until your lips grew swollen from where his stubble scratched them raw.

Doing that would require something far more potent than inquisitiveness. 

There was a decent crowd that night, not as packed as the weekend would have been, but there were enough people that only one empty stool remained in front of the bar. Eddie gestured to it, offering you the seat just as he had on the subway last week. 

You tucked the denim fabric of your skirt behind your thighs as you sat. Eddie watched every movement, an unreadable desire darkening his expression, as if he wished it were his fingers on your skin. 

Your smile seemed to snap him from his trance. He waved down the bartender, who held up her forefinger to signal she would be right over. 

A shadow draped over you as you scanned the liquor-cluttered shelves, bathing you in a welcoming darkness. Protection. Eddie’s arms framed your torso, his hands planted firmly on the bartop. And when you lightly grasped his wrist, your thumb rubbing against the soft hairs on his arm, you could have sworn you felt the tension leave his body in one swift exhale.

“What are you gonna get?” The grainy pop music playing from the speakers and a cacophony of neighboring conversations muffled his voice, and he had to shout just to be heard. 

“A vodka tonic.” Simple, classic, and most importantly—not expensive. Though you probably should let him be the judge of that, considering it was his treat. “If that’s okay?”

Eddie laughed softly and nodded. “It’s your night, Heiress.” The tip of his tongue swiped over his lower lip. 

He ordered your drink first, then placed his order for whatever beer was on tap before declining to open a tab. Your chest went slightly concave; you should have followed his lead and ordered the cheaper option. 

As if sensing your guilt, Eddie pulled back enough to look you in the eye. “It’s your night,” he repeated, grabbing your short, stout glass and placing it in your hand. He raised his own taller mug, proposing a toast. “To a badass future social worker and all of the lives she’s gonna change. For the better,” he added quickly. 

Before he could clink his glass to yours, you locked eyes with him. The brown eyes that steeled themselves against you the night he first checked into the motel were now pillow-soft, beckoning you to fall. He may not have even been aware of it himself. 

“To the coolest rockstar I know,” you said, allowing the lips of your glasses to touch. “And the second-coolest guest to ever stay at the motel.”

Eddie raised a brow. “Second?”

“You really think you’re cooler than Phyllis?”

“Touché.” He relented with a smirk, taking a swig of his drink that left a foamy mustache on his upper lip. Without a second thought, he licked it away. 

The movement enraptured you: his tongue swiping over his skin, leaving no residue in its wake. That same tongue that peeked out from his mouth when he was focused, a simple muscle, but it held your attention for a beat too long. 

“Are you…” Eddie gestured towards your vodka tonic, and you realized you hadn’t even taken a sip. 

Cheers to embarrassing yourself ten minutes into the date. Non-date. Whatever it was. 

The vodka’s bitterness and the bubbles from the tonic water seeped into your tongue. You savored the burn as you swallowed. It had been so long since you’d had a drink, and just the first taste had you buzzing. If you didn’t pace yourself properly, you’d be tipsy far too soon. 

The sound system crackled and microphone feedback shot through the bar. You and Eddie winced in unison, each taking a gulp of your drinks. 

A man in his mid-thirties, balding with a goatee, stood at a makeshift stage at the back of the bar. “Welcome to Music Mondays here at The Brink. That’s right…it’s karaoke night!”

There was a smattering of applause that didn’t  match the emcee’s enthusiasm, but he remained undeterred. 

“Sign up here with your name and your song, and we’ll get started in a few minutes. Drink that liquid courage and come on down!” The microphone screeched once more as he slid it back into the stand. 

You turned to Eddie, your eyes wide with mischief. “You’re gonna do it, right?”

Eddie scoffed. “Fuck, no. I’m not getting up there and making a fool of myself.”

“But it’s my night,” you reminded him. “You said so yourself.”

He looked poised to argue, one hand gripped tightly around the mug’s handle, his mouth ready to say no. But then you batted your eyelashes and pouted, all in jest. A dramatic showing that you didn’t expect would convince him. 

A wry smile betrayed his tough exterior as his thumb ghosted your lower lip. Lightning crackled at his touch, soft as it was, illuminating your bones and surging through your veins. When he pulled back, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, a light red stain tinged his skin. If he noticed it, he made no attempt to wipe it off. 

“It is your night,” he mused, gaze flickering to your mouth before promptly returning to your eyes. When you lit up in anticipation of him conceding, he couldn’t help but grin back. “One song. And I’m choosing it.”

You couldn’t argue with him, not when his touch still lingered on your lip. He disappeared for a moment to add his name to the list. As soon as he was out of sight, you took a much larger gulp of your drink. A trickle escaped out of the corner of your mouth, and you haphazardly swiped at it with the back of your hand, lest it ruin the shirt you’d picked out especially for the date. 

This isn’t a date. The reminder was as harsh as the vodka itself. You lifted the glass once more and drained it until the half-melted ice cubes clicked against your teeth. Whatever this evening was, you needed to relax. Enjoy Eddie’s company without reading too much into his every move. 

You turned your attention to the TV mounted above the shelves, engrossing yourself in the scrolling closed captions. A weatherman announced that this summer was going to be a ‘scorcher,’ and though he said it with a plastic grin, you inwardly cringed at the impact the air conditioning would have on the electric bill. 

“I’m up third.” Eddie’s voice broke in, turning the upcoming weather into a distant memory. He raised his brows when he saw your glass, now empty on the sticky bartop. “You finished that already?”

“Mhm.” Your smile was sloppier than you intended, your head starting to float from your neck as tipsiness crept in. 

Eddie breathed out, shaking his head with a glimmer of a smirk. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or impressed, and you didn’t have time to ask before he waved over the bartender. “Just water, please.” He nodded his thanks when she slid it over. “Drink,” he said to you, and you dutifully obliged. 

“What song did you pick out?” Something that is supposed to be screamed more than sung, you assumed. 

He just shook his head again and swallowed more beer. “It’s a surprise.” His eyes twinkled when he said it, and you wondered if his choice erred more on the side of Madonna than Metallica. 

A woman got up on stage and began her rousing rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. 

Peppy? Upbeat? A great way to kick off karaoke night? Absolutely. 

On-key? Not even close. 

“If you ever start a new band, you should ask her to join.” You chinpointed towards the woman currently butchering the Cyndi Lauper classic. “She’s got that star power, I think.”

Eddie snorted but composed himself quickly to play into your joke. “I’m worried she’d outshine me.” He widened his eyes in faux concern. “Go solo and leave me behind, y’know?”  

“She’ll probably steal all of your groupies, too,” you added, tutting as if to say, what a shame. 

“Even you?”

You cocked your brow. “Who said I’m your groupie?”

He leaned his elbow against the bar, mouth slackjaw at your rejection. Disbelieving laughter left his throat in a huff. 

“I take you out, treat you to the best watered-down drink this city has to offer, and this is the thanks I get?” His curls brushed against his cheeks when he shook his head. “Who would you be a groupie for? Wait, no; lemme guess.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “New Kids on the Block? Boyz II Men?”

“I think I’d die if Joey McIntyre so much as looked at me.” You hadn’t meant to say that aloud. The watered-down or not, the alcohol was certainly turning sober thoughts into tipsy words. 

Eddie chugged half of the beer, watching as the woman on stage finished her song and left with a triumphant bow. “Pretty sure your shitty taste in music is what plays at the gates of Hell,” he said to you. 

Your response was a mere flick of your middle finger. 

A man in a suit took the stage next, loosening his tie as he positioned himself behind the microphone. A group of similarly-dressed men started hooting and hollering obnoxiously the moment the opening chords to Don’t Stop Believin’ blared through the sound system.

You looked back to Eddie. If he was nervous about singing karaoke, he didn’t show it. His shoulders were relaxed, his posture much less tense than on the walk to the bar. Maybe the alcohol loosened him up as it had you. 

“What about you?” You asked. “Whose groupie would you be?”

“Easy,” he said, not missing a beat. “Joan Jett. Total badass, killer musician, and hot as hell.” He nodded to confirm his choice before leaning in and loudly whispering. “Bad Reputation was basically my secret anthem in high school.”

You laughed. “Did you imagine it playing in the background when you walked down the halls?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Eddie grinned and polished off his beer. 

His confession warmed you—or maybe that was just the vodka working its way through your bloodstream. Regardless, you were intrigued by the glimpse into his past and found yourself hungry for more. 

“Can I ask you a non-groupie related question?”

“Shoot.”

Your tongue was heavy, the resulting slurring softening your words. “If your hometown is so shitty, why are you trying to go back?”

He loosened a chuckle, glancing at the shelves of booze before looking back to you. “My uncle still lives there. He, ah, he raised me after my dad split and my mom…y’know.” Eddie cleared his throat and managed a small smile. “Why? You want me to stick around?” 

The hair on his forearm tickled when he slid it over to nudge you, his pinky finger overlapping yours. 

Of course you wanted him to stick around. You’d smear honey all over the motel’s siding to lure more bees, tempt them to build their nests among the sticky sweetness, just so he would have a reason to stay. 

The man on stage belted out his final “don’t stop believin’” as his buddies enveloped him in drunken hugs. 

“All right!” The emcee bleated into the microphone. “Next up, we have…” He checked the sign-up sheet. “…Eddie! Let’s give him a hand, folks.”

A smattering of applause echoed throughout the room, the excitement of karaoke night already dwindling. If Eddie noticed, he didn’t show it. 

“This one’s for you, Heiress.” He winked and sprinted towards the stage. 

Eddie pressed his foot on the microphone stand, adjusting it so it was level with his lips. His fingers curled around its neck, dramatically tugging it closer as the instrumentals piped through the sound system.

Well, since my baby left me Well, I found a new place to dwell Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street At Heartbreak Hotel

His hips swung back and forth, the gyrations not quite as precise as Elvis’s, but he still snapped them in time with the staccato guitar chords. The right heel of his sneakers tapped the floor as he continued, voice dipping into his lower register.

Where I'll be, I'll be so lonely, baby  Well, I'm so lonely  I'll be so lonely, I could die

Free hand pressed to his heart, Eddie leaned in your direction and tilted the mic stand while he sang. The movements were reminiscent of how a man would dance with someone he loved, impassioned yet graceful. Charisma oozed from every pore, his natural command of the stage an enduring reminder of his brief foray into rock stardom.   

The other patrons faded into the background as his eyes fixed on you, a personal serenade rather than karaoke night amongst a sea of drunks. Easiness weaved through each note he sang, his body loosening and his lips curving into a smile when you let out a vodka-fueled whoop of admiration. 

Now, the bellhop's tears keep flowin'  And the desk clerk's dressed in black  Well, they've been so long on Lonely Street  Well, they'll never, they'll never look back

Eddie pointed to you when he referenced the desk clerk, the crowd following his every move. The heat of their stares only exacerbated the warmth that the alcohol already sent coursing through you, but you felt no need to hide. The rich timbre of his voice was a magnetic pull, drawing you in until it echoed deep in your bones. 

Although it's always crowded  But you still can find some room  For broken hearted lovers  To cry there in their gloom  Where they get so, they get so lonely, baby  Well, they're so lonely  They'll be so lonely, they could die

He ended the song with one final swing of his hips, one foot turned inward in an Elvis-esque pose. If anyone else applauded for him, it couldn’t be heard over the sound of your cheers. 

He made a beeline for you. “Did that live up to your expectations?” Sweat dripped from his flushed forehead and down his temples. 

“Exceeded them, actually.” 

The bartender slid over two shot glasses filled with amber liquid. “On the house,” she explained when you and Eddie looked at her in confusion. 

You shouldn’t. The TV set that broadcasted the news showed that it was nearly nine o’clock and you were already tipsy from the one drink. Adding a shot—and subsequently mixing liquor—was a recipe for disaster. 

“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna,” Eddie said. “I’ll take them both.”

With a shake of your head, you took the glass nearest you and downed it, the whiskey burning stronger than you had anticipated. Tears reflexively welled in your eyes, leaving you clinging to the hope that you had blinked them away before Eddie could notice.

He let out a soft, low whistle. “Well, okay then.” His own shot disappeared past his grimacing lips.

A familiar synthesized beat replaced the idle hum of conversation as a middle-aged woman began her song. Eddie threw back his head when he heard it, groaning as though the ‘80s hit left him in agony.

“You’re such a music snob,” you lamented, reaching out with both of your hands to grab onto his. If this is what liquid courage felt like, you were more than happy to ride that wave. “There’s more to life than heavy metal.”

“I just sang Elvis!” He protested, but his efforts were all in vain as you hopped off of the barstool and led him away from your empty shot glasses. “Heiress…” His tone was a warning, one that you promptly ignored.

You let your gaze meet his, the vodka-and-whiskey combination working overtime to stifle your nerves. 

“Dance with me.”

Eddie laughed. “You’re tipsy.”

“I’m tipsy and I want you to dance with me.” 

“You wanna dance, huh?” He laughed again when you nodded. “All right; let’s dance.” 

Eddie’s hands slid down to your wrists and adjusted your arms so they draped over his shoulders, his curls tickling your fingers when they clasped behind his neck. He hesitated for a second before letting his own fingertips rest on your waist, careful to avoid dipping below the small of your back.

Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love  Never hesitating to become the fated ones  

The current performer was marginally better than the first two, but her voice wasn’t nearly as polished as Eddie’s. She kept getting too close to the mic, the lyrics muffled each time her purple-lipsticked mouth grazed the cover. 

You inched forward, your chest against Eddie’s as the two of you swayed in tandem. His fingers flexed before tugging you closer, evidence that you weren’t the only one affected by the shot. 

“Can’t remember the last time I heard this song,” he mused wistfully. “Probably my senior prom. The last one, anyway.”

“You had more than one senior prom?”

His cheeks, already pinkened from the liquor, flushed a deeper shade of red. “Yeah, it, uh, took me a few tries to graduate,” Eddie admitted. “But I did it.” A sheepish smile still held a twinge of pride. 

“You did it.”

“Yeah.” One arm reached back to grasp your hand and twirl you around, and you breathed an audible sigh of relief when the room didn’t spin with you. “But tonight,” he grinned, “is all about you.” 

You. Not the motel or its crumbling financial infrastructure. Not the guests or your parents. Not school or exams or term papers. Just you. 

An involuntary giggle wriggled its way up and you ducked your head to hide it, your forehead brushing against Eddie’s lips. Did he purse them slightly in a hint of a kiss, or was that a figment of your imagination?

Turning and returning to some secret place inside  Watching in slow motion as you turn my way and say  Take my breath away

“You okay?” Eddie asked, a smile in his voice.

“Mhm. Just happy.”

“Yeah? Good.” His forefinger tucked under your chin and tilted it upwards, granting him a better look at you. The tip of his tongue parted his lips and swiped over the whiskey-scented residue. “You deserve to be happy.”

You did deserve to be happy. You deserved joyful moments in your life, people who surrounded you in sunshine even when rain poured.

My love, take my breath away  My love, take my breath away

You deserved Eddie.

Standing before you, his eyes never strayed from your form, flicking from your face to where his hands gripped your waist. His chest rose and fell in time with the music. 

“I…” You swallowed your fear, already tempered by tipsiness, curling your fingers into the back of his ribbed t-shirt collar. 

Desire rippled down your spine and you leaned in to close that godforsaken gap, already tasting him on your tongue. 

But not before he pulled away. 

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98

@squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia

@kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock

@ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975

@yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts

@mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank

@sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles

@the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl

@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[fortheloveofallthings]

Steddie Florist AU - mini fic (inspired by a twitter prompt)

Eddie never bought flowers. Not once in his life had it even crossed his mind. But every afternoon before he heads into his shift at the bar he steals a glance at the perfectly styled man through the window organizing the bouquets. Every once in a while, Eddie would catch himself stopping dead in his tracks staring between the guy and the flowers, and every once in a while they’d make eye contact. His face would flush red as he quickly buried his face back in his leather jacket and rush into work.

Steve loved making bouquets. He loved flowers, and the chill of the cooler they were kept in. He loved sharing holidays with the strangers that came and went. He loved the curly hair and leather that floated across the windows from the storefront. And he loved that stranger’s rich chocolate eyes even more. The deer in the headlights look he’d stumble upon when their views locked. One afternoon, the man finally walked in and after all his failed attempts at love here he was ready to try again. He stood from where he was kneeling, “What brings you in?”

Eddie practically burst into the shop with no game plan in mind and stopped immediately at the entrance. Thankfully the man, much more gorgeous without the glare of glass between them, spoke first. “Oh um, not sure? I walk by everyday and uh thought id look around?” A small giggle escaped the florist, “sure man, look all you want. I’m here if you have any questions.” He flashed a well executed customer service smile then went to tend to some of the house plants across the sales floor. Eddie waded through the aisles curiously examining the buckets of roses and countless other flowers he didn’t know the names of. He lingered around the… “Seems like you like the dahlias” the florist said, lingering next to Eddie making him jump. “Shit man! You have a quiet step” “I’m sorry, Robin scolds me for scaring her all the time.” He looked away sheepish. “Well at least you can make it up to her with all these lovely flowers,” he nervously chuckled, “She must love that quality in her partner at least.” The florist laughed, “Shes not my girlfriend, no. Shes my best friend… and co-worker.”

Steve could’ve watched this man walk around the shop for hours. The curiosity he wandered with held a child-like wonder, an interest in the unknown and he had to go and scare the guy. The man sighed relief and got back to the flowers, ��wait? These are dahlias? Like the murder?” Steve lost it at that, “like the murder!?” He laughed, held his stomach and everything. “Yes like that, but it was a flower first.” “Oh right, well maybe ill get one of these?” The man asked so unsure if that was even ok. “Of course, you want just a single one?” The man combed his fingers through his curls then rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh ya just one of the purple ones. Im sure theres an empty bottle at work I can put it in. Might be nice to have it on the bar.” They walked over to the counter and Steve wrapped the single dahlia in a sheet of black tissue paper. “This one is on me,” Steve winked. The man’s cheeks flushed pink and the guy avoided any eye contact like the plague. “You sure? I don’t mind paying,” He offered. “I’m sure, least I could do for scaring you.” The man took his single flower with utmost care turned towards the door and just before leaving he turned back to Steve. “If you’re free later, head over to the Red Dragon. Its only a block down the street, I’ll get you a drink on me. Just ask for Eddie if you don’t see me, sometimes I get stuck recycling the kegs in the back”

Part 2

[lokis-army-77]

Left behind

Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 1884

After a funeral, Eddie feels he's being left alone and says some hurtful things to the reader. After some time apart at home, he comes to apologize and is assured by the reader that she will never leave him.

Warning: Talk of death, at a funeral, angst, fluff, Eddie says some mean things.

A/N: I'm so sorry..

Masterlist

The wind whipped around us and the chill it brought stung like ice. My cheeks had already started to turn pink from the cold, my nose numb and as red as could be. A December afternoon in Indiana is a dreary thing, put a funeral on top of it and it's the physical manifestation of Depression. 

I stood just behind Eddie, who was dressed in his only suit with his long hair pulled back in a bun out of his face. My own black dress clung to me in the wind, the bottom hem whipping around at my knees. 

The pastor provided by the funeral home spoke in a bored and monotonous tone, by this point I had drowned him out. I was too concerned for Eddie right now to worry about being led to christ while we buried a loved one. 

He was hiding it well. No emotion showing on his beautiful face. His eyes almost glazed over as he bored a hole into the casket. 

It was a simple thing, the cheapest we could afford. Grey aluminum with the smallest casket spray on top. Those flowers weren't even the nicest and the wind was doing a number on the soft white petals. 

Quietly, I placed my hand on Eddie's shoulder, letting him know I was there for him. I felt him stiffen before reluctantly pulling my hand away. 

Looking around us, only a hand full of people were gathered. A few guys who worked at the plant and a waitress from the diner we visited almost every Saturday morning. 

They all gave me sad smiles when they caught my eye. I gave them one back. 

I hadn’t noticed the preacher had stopped talking until a hand was cupping my own. Turning around it was the waitress. 

"Saturday mornings sure aren't gonna be the same without him." She squeezed my hand. "I've got a casserole with your name on it, just come on by the diner and I'll bring it out to you." 

I shook my head. "No, no, Mrs. Janice, that's too much. You didn't have to do that." 

"Oh Hun, you shouldn't have to worry about cooking or finding food when you're going through a loss." She pouted. "Come on by and I'll give it to you and if you need any more, just give me a call." 

"Yes ma'am. Thank you."  I gave her a tight smile and she left. 

Next were the three plant workers who introduced themselves as, Randy, Carl, and Jimmy. They gave their condolences as they shook my hand before taking off. 

The Pastor was last. "Mrs. Munson," he started. I only nodded not wanting to correct him on the fact that I wasn't married to Eddie yet, only engaged. "They are going to start lowering the casket. I don't know if you want to watch that but you can if you would like." 

"Thank you, I think we might." 

"Well then, I'll be on my way. I'm very sorry for your loss." He turned on his heel and followed the others through the cemetery to where all the vehicles had been parked. 

I went back to Eddie, who hadn’t moved to talk to anyone. 

"Eddie, sweetheart, why don't we go? Hum?" I linked my arm with his. 

He didn't budge when I pulled on his arm so I stood there with him as he stared and I watched the men begin to lower the casket into the ground and shovel the mound of dirt back into the hole. 

Once they were finished and gone we still stayed standing, looking at the grave with the casket spray decorating the dirt. It was getting colder by the minute since the sun was starting to set and Eddie still hadn't given any sign that he wasn't a statue. 

"Eddie?" I question, going to stand in front of him, eyes searching his face. "Eddie please, I need you to say something, move, anything." I couldn’t hide the wobble of worry coming through in my voice. 

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, then closed it again. 

"Want me to give you a minute alone?" He nodded. "Okay. I'll be in the car when you're ready to go." 

Slowly I let go of him and braced myself against the wind towards the car. Slipping into the passenger seat, I hurriedly turned the key and started the ignition, thankful for the heater. 

Ten minutes later, Eddie opens the driver's side door. The rush of cold air taking away the warmth had me shivering once again. 

He sat quietly for a few seconds before suddenly slamming his hand shown onto the steering wheel. 

"Fuck!" 

I jumped, startled at his outburst. That was the only sign of emotion he had shown since this morning. 

"Fuck! fuck! fuck!" Each shout was emphasized by him hitting the wheel. 

"Eds, be careful, don't want you hurting yourself." 

I reached over pushing his hands down into his lap. His breathing had become rapid and his eyes were no longer glossed over. The haze cleared up and nothing but anger shone through. 

"Why do I keep being left alone?" 

I place my hand on his shoulder and rub my thumb into the tissue. "What do you mean, baby?" 

"Everyone fucking leaves me all alone at some point or another. First, it was my old man, then mom died, and now Wayne." His words were warped with anger and frustration. "You'll probably leave me too. You might at well go now while I'm already in pain. Rip my heart out while it's already broken, it would be better than leading me on." 

I shook my head at his words. "Eddie, what are you saying? I'm not going to leave you, ever." 

He looks up at me, eyes rimmed in red as tears he's been holding in for days begin to pour. 

"Didn't you fucking hear me? Everyone always leaves me." The crack in his voice was only the beginning of Eddie’s breakdown. "I'm just a worthless kid from a worthless family and if you knew any better you would run like hell." 

"Eddie don't say that, please. I know it's hard right now but we'll get through this." I tried to comfort him but I didn't know what to say. 

"That's easy for you to say, Wayne wasn't your Uncle. He didn't take care of you when you were dropped off at his doorstep because your dad was an abusive asshole and your mother had you get you away from him. He didn't struggle, morning, day, and night just to keep you fed and let himself starve. He wasn’t yours then and he’s not yours now." 

Eddies hand came up to swat mine away from him and when he did I placed it in my lap. Too stunned by his words to speak I just sat quietly. 

I thought to myself, He doesn't mean to be rude. The man who raised him just died. He needs time and space. He doesn't mean it. 

We sit in silence while Eddie drives us back to our apartment. I fiddle my thumbs and sneak careful glances over at him. Silent tears streamed down his face and my fingers itched to wipe them from his cheeks. My heart ached at the sight of him barely holding it together.

“Eddie, maybe I should drive?” The statement came out more as a question as I watched him struggle to stay on one side of the road. 

“No.” It came out in a rasp then he cleared his throat. “No, I’m fine. I always drive.” 

He wiped the tears from his eyes and stepped on the gas more. After that, the drive went more smoothly. No more veering into the other lane or stopping too long at a red light turned green. 

Finally home we went inside. The darkness added to the somber mood and the quietness rang in my ears. 

“I’m gonna heat up some dinner, okay?” I spoke, heading into the kitchen to take the leftovers out of the fridge. 

Eddie only grunted in response, kicking off his nice shoes and languidly undoing his tie. I listened to him slowly walking to our room before the door clicked shut. 

As I stood there, the refrigerator door wide open, I let the slip. A choked cry erupted from my chest and my hands came up suddenly to cover my mouth. I had wanted to be strong for Eddie, a shoulder he could come cry on if he needed, a support for him to fall on.  But honestly, I was almost as broken as he was. 

Wayne might not have been related to me but when Eddie and I became the best of friends in Junior High, he took me right in. He had looked after me like I had wanted my own father too. He’s the one that finally talked some sense into Eddie and I, separately, and made us realize we liked one another. 

None of that was equivalent to what he had with Eddie but what Eddie had said to me in the car had stung and although I knew it was coming from a place of grief, I couldn’t help but cry. 

Staggering back into the counter, I slid down them to the floor, head hanging into my knees as I let myself weep, body shaking. It felt good to cry even if my face began to feel puffy and my throat had a huge lump in it. 

I don’t know how long I stayed like that, but when the fridge door finally closed and a warm body sat next to me on the kitchen floor, I realized that my body ached from being there and my tears had all but dried up. 

Eddie slung his arm over my back, pulling me in closer to him, his other hand smoothed back my hair, fingers catching in the knots. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He apologized. 

“It’s okay,” I mumbled into my legs. “You were just letting out your emotions.” 

“Even so, I shouldn't have said what I did. It was unfair of me.” He sniffled. 

Looking up my puffy swollen face met his and I gave him a short sorrowful smile. He gave me one back. 

“Eddie, truly, you don't have to apologize.” I sit up and lean into him. “I should have just given you some space.” 

He shook his head but didn’t reply, I think he knew arguing with me would yield nothing. We held each other on the floor for a while longer before finally I stood to my feet, reached down for his hand, and pulled him up. 

“I love you Eddie Munson and I promise I will never leave you.” I gently lace my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, he had let it down from its bun at some point, and pulled him down to my lips. Kissing him like this, soft and sweet and full of all the love I could give, felt wonderful. Like being cleansed of all your worry and strife with white-hot fire. 

“God, you’re too good for me Sweetheart. I really don’t know what I would do without you.” He pulled away, cupping my face in his hands. 

“You won’t ever have to find out.”