#spoiler alert: it's not Eddie

[diazsdimples]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @theotherbuckley and @thewolvesof1998 thanks guys 💙

I'm hoping this is the final snippet of Dry Spell Fic before I post it (I aim to finish tomorrow and publish on Friday). It's starting to heat up in the Buckley-Diaz household! It's a bit of a longer snippet today, and it's a tiny bit NSFW, sorry guys. The fic is at 3.4k now and will probably be a heap longer by the time the sex is done!!

Eddie’s not sure how long he waits for Buck to get home but he’s pretty sure it’s well after 3 when he finally hears the front door open, and it couldn’t have come sooner. The anticipation has been killing him, especially as his cock slowly began to fill out against his thigh as he thought about all the delicious things him and Buck were going to get up to. Getting out of his underwear had been the hardest part, but after much scootching up and down the bed like an inverted caterpillar, his underwear slipping further and further down his thighs with each wriggle, they were finally around his ankles and he could finally kick them off. The friction of them scraping over the already-sensitive head of his cock had been maddening, and ever since Eddie’s been at half mast, patiently waiting for Buck to get home. “Hey babe, I’m back!” Buck calls down the hall and Eddie feels a sudden rush of apprehension. What if he’s bought Maddie home with him? What if, heaven forbid, he’s agreed to babysit Jee and their adorable niece is currently sitting in his arms, about to be scarred for life at the sight of her Tio, tied up and erect? “I- I’m in the bedroom!” he yells back, cursing the obvious quaver in his voice. He hears Buck’s footsteps echo down the hall, and Buck starts to tell Eddie about his visit. “Maddie’s really going through it right now, apparently Jee’s learned how to open doors and is using this new skill for evil. She’s walked in on her and Chim having sex twice, could you imagine? I told her to invest in a lock, ya know, just in case and she –“ Buck appears from behind the bedroom door (thankfully sans niece) and grinds to a halt as he sees Eddie, completely naked, cock resting hard against his stomach, with pink cheeks and an almost guilty grin on his face. “Woah. You’re – um – wow Eds, that is hot.”

Tagging @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @rainbow-nerdss @disasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 @puppyboybuckley @jesuisici33 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @steadfastsaturnsrings @tizniz @nmcggg @smilingbuckley @buckbuckgoose @bucksbackwardcap @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @wikiangela @cal-daisies-and-briars @housewifebuck @pirrusstuff @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @fortheloveofbuddie @evanbegins @fortheloveofbuddie

[steddielations]

Incorrect Steddie that’s actually correct

Insp

[imaginaryprotagonist]

We as a society do not pop off enough about young Jackles playing a dude in a throuple with the original Dr Sexy, Mr Patrick Dempsey himself. Whose name in the movie is Cass! I mean, come on!

[gloomysoup]

i was GOING to write this weekend, but instead i've made the decision that i'm going to landscape my entire backyard on my own (usually my mom does all of the landscaping) and i've been cleaning it out all weekend. it is taking forever. so uh here's a snippet of a wip to make up for not doing like... anything lately :D

-

“You've got a boy in your bed,” the older man stated, clearly not a question anywhere to be seen. It was merely an observed fact of life.

“I do,” Eddie said slowly, unsure where this conversation was headed or how to explain what was actually happening.

“You haven't had a boy in your bed in a long time.” Again, it was merely a statement. No question. Again, Wayne was right. Eddie hadn't even thought about meeting someone else since Steve disappeared, and Wayne was plenty aware of that. “Not since Steve.”

Eddie knew Wayne was taking a chance saying Steve’s name. It had been a sensitive subject for a long time. Eddie took a deep breath and tried to decide how best to say it. Wayne clearly doesn't know that the boy in his bed is Steve, if the way he was looking at Eddie was anything to go by.

“This somethin’ we should talk about? I know you've been havin’ a rough go of it since last summer, and then whatever the hell happened over spring break. You ain't self destructin’, are ya?”

“No, no, it's nothing like that,” Eddie said quickly, throwing a glance over his shoulder to his bedroom door, which was left slightly cracked. “Um, actually, it's- God, I really don't know how to say this other than to just say it.” Wayne looked at him with an expectant eyebrow raised. “It's Steve.”

[livwritesstuff]

It takes two weeks from the first day of school for one of Steve and Eddie's daughters to start raising hell.

(They'd put money on it — two wagers, to be specific: how long it would take, and which kid it would be).

Last year it was Moe, and a month, and Eddie won them both.

This year —

Steve: Robbie — why on Earth would your teacher think we were okay with you bringing the lizard home?

(Needless to say, laundry is on Eddie for the next month).

Robbie: *shrugs*

Robbie: She has a signed permission slip

Steve:

Steve: I didn't sign a permission slip saying you could bring a lizard into the house.

Steve: *looks at Eddie*

Eddie, throwing his hands up in surrender: I didn't either — have a little faith, please, Jesus Christ.

Robbie: I never said you signed it.

Steve: *somewhat speechless because Robbie is only seven so he figured he'd have at least a little more time before she starting committing acts of forgery*

Hazel, somewhat out of the blue: Sometimes when lizards are scared their tails will fall off.

Steve: Okay, jeez, well, let's make sure that doesn't happen, 'kay?

Steve, to Robbie: And this better be the last time I hear about any forgery, punk.

[steddieas-shegoes]

There’s too much pressure on him.

He can’t fuck this up.

Eddie keeps looking at him, suspicious but not saying anything. Thank god.

Robin keeps giving him tiny pep talks when they manage to find a few seconds alone: “you got this” and “I promise he feels the same way” and “if you don’t do it now you’ll regret it forever.”

The last one isn’t so much a pep talk as a threat, but it still does the job.

He shakes his hands out, like he’s about to jump in the pool for a swim meet.

He bounces on his feet, slaps his arms like he’s warming up before taking the court for a must-win basketball game.

He looks and feels incredibly stupid and he’s certain that someone will see him acting like this and have questions. He just hopes it’s not Dustin. Or Max. Or Mike, Jesus Christ.

He sneaks away when the announcers give a five minute warning to the countdown. He needs a minute alone before he potentially ruins one of the best friendships he’s ever had besides Robin.

He hides in the bathroom, looks at his reflection in the mirror and tries to smile. He used to be so confident, used to be able to tell himself to make a move and make it successfully. But it used to not matter, not like this does.

No one has ever mattered the way Eddie does.

And fucking this up will ruin a lot more than just his friendship with Eddie; it’ll ruin the entire group’s dynamics.

No more hanging out at the arcade while the kids play, no more bringing snacks to game nights, no more adults only movie nights to make up for the shitty movies the kids make them watch during family movie nights.

No more getting high in Eddie’s bedroom while he plays his guitar, only trusting Steve to see how he still struggles with some chords because his fingers have more nerve damage than even the doctors know.

No more falling asleep on the couch while Eddie reads to him or tells him made up stories that turn into campaigns for the kids.

No more swimming in Steve’s pool after midnight, when Steve is scared, but wants to face his fears with Eddie by his side.

The bathroom door opening startles him from his morose thoughts, and he rushes to try to close it.

“Chill, man. Just me.”

Eddie.

“Sorry, must’ve zoned out.” Steve pretends to wipe his hands on the towel hanging by the sink. “All yours, man.”

Steve starts to leave when Eddie’s hand curls around his shoulder, tugs him back.

“You’ve been weird all night, Stevie. What’s goin’ on? Worried about having to see Nancy and Jonathan kiss?” Something’s off with Eddie’s voice towards the end, like he was going for teasing, but lost the effort halfway through the question.

Steve could hear a one minute warning from the other room.

His heart rate quickened.

“No. That’s not it.” Steve gulped. “I’m fine. Just worried.”

“I don’t think you need to worry.”

As if Eddie would know.

“I’ll just head out there-“

Eddie pushes him against the back of the bathroom door, hands on his chest and eyes boring into his.

“You were worried about kissing me, right? I didn’t imagine the way you avoided me all night and the way Robin kept poking me and looking at you anytime someone brought up kissing at midnight?” Eddie looks like he’s back in the boathouse, looks wild in a way Steve kind of loves, but probably needs to settle. “I haven’t imagined the way you look at me, have I? Like, the crush on you is probably out of hand, but I couldn’t have made up the way you always fall asleep on my shoulder when we try to stay up too late and your hand always finds mine and-“

Steve couldn’t take it. He could listen to Eddie spiral all night or he could just do what he was pretty sure they both wanted and just kiss him.

So he does.

He leans forward and kisses his lips, hopes that the way Eddie’s fingers curl against his chest doesn’t mean he’s about to push him away.

It’s short, and Steve’s hands are stuck at his side while he waits for a proper reaction from Eddie, who is frozen other than the fingers digging into Steve’s chest hairs somewhat painfully.

“Eddie?” He asks after a long silence.

“Steve, shut up. I might be in a coma still. Or those stupid bats got me and I’ve spent the last few months dreaming up a somewhat regular life.”

Steve smirked and placed his hands on top of Eddie’s, slowly unfurling the fingers and holding them in his.

“Eddie.”

This time, Eddie managed to look at him, and his shoulders fell as he seemed to catch on that he wasn’t dreaming or dead.

“Can I kiss you again or are you gonna panic?”

Eddie let out a strangled noise and nodded.

“I need a yes or a no, Eds,” Steve laughed.

“Yes. Please. Always yes. Kiss me for every single minute of 1987 if you want. Start and end the year kissing me. Kiss me until I-“

Steve shook his head, so stupidly fond of this man, and leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, Eddie managed to kiss him back, lips not as firm as they parted beneath Steve’s.

And this time when he pulled away, Eddie’s eyes slowly blinked open, and he was smiling.

“Can’t believe you did this on New Year’s Eve. How stereotypical. You’ve turned me into a stereotype. How could you do this? Stevie, I’m so ridiculously in love with you, but you really should’ve done this yesterday or something.”

“I love you, too.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut, eyes going wide as his cheeks turned a bright red.

“I have really gotta learn to shut up. I blame Robin for the rambling.”

Steve’s hands wrapped around Eddie’s waist, pulling him closer as he kissed his forehead with a laugh.

“I think you had this problem way before you hung out with Robin.”

“How would you know, sunshine?” Eddie faked annoyance, but the term of endearment gave him away completely.

“I just know you pretty well. And I love you.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You have too.”

“I have, haven’t I?”

They both stared at each other in silence for a full minute before bursting into laughter.

Someone banged on the door as they rested their forehead against each other, laughing through another kiss.

“If you’re all done making out in there, some of us have been holding it since last year!” Max’s voice rang out.

“That joke doesn’t really mean anything when last year was two minutes ago, Maxine!” Eddie yelled back, not pulling away from Steve.

“I will use Steve’s bathroom if you don’t come out in five seconds!”

“God, please no.” Steve said as he pulled away and opened the door. “You suck so much.”

“Not as much as you apparently,” Max said back as she pushed past them and slammed the door.

“I didn’t even get to the sucking yet,” Eddie whined. “Why is she so mean?”

“She’s a teenage girl. They’re all like that.”

“Thank god I never liked them.”

“Never?”

“Steve, I was so busy trying to hide how hot I thought you were, I didn’t even notice girls.”

“Seriously?!” Steve laughed. “That must’ve been terrible for your image.”

“Yeah, well, now I think I’m the one terrible for your image, so I guess it worked out for me,” Eddie smirked, kissing Steve’s cheek.

“Very funny. Now back to the sucking thing…”

“Oh my god, I can hear you!” Max yelled from in the bathroom, causing Steve and Eddie to roll their eyes and laugh.

“That’s okay, we’ll just go upstairs, won’t we?” Eddie said loudly.

“Yep, I think that’s where we’ll be for the rest of the night!” Steve said back.

“Just go away!” Max yelled as the toilet flushed.

Steve did lead Eddie upstairs, and they definitely did intend on using a few minutes of privacy to their advantage, but were interrupted the moment Steve’s pants were unbuttoned.

Mike Wheeler would probably never recover from seeing Eddie’s lips on Steve’s neck, but maybe he’d at least learn to knock on doors before opening them.

[hippolotamus]

One week ago, Shannon Diaz would have canonically turned 32. While Eddie is separated from Chris and they’re hundreds of miles apart from each other.

Did Eddie visit her grave? Has he been there since he blew up his life? Maybe he brought flowers, and a small container with three s’mores. Or maybe the ingredients are still in a grocery bag in his kitchen where he broke down and wept. Body wracked with sobs while he makes the most wounded, tortured sounds.

Somehow, when he thought he was wrung out and done, he realized he dropped the eggs too. He cries harder because they’re as broken as his family - as he is - and he can’t put them back together either. Because hard as he tries he’s not allowed to keep good things.

In El Paso, Chris ignores the text from his Dad. Because today of all days Eddie has no business trying to rebuild their connection. His grandparents didn’t say anything about her. Not that he thought they would. But it still stings as he rolls over in bed, the framed picture of him and his Mom held tightly in his grasp.

Dad says he loves Mom. That he’ll always love her. Did he visit her today? Or was he too cowardly for that, too? Chris clutches the frame closer, hugging it tight to his chest. The phantom scent of a campfire and taste of charred marshmallows invade his senses, blending with the faintest hint of vanilla. And if his eyes are stinging, he’ll blame that on the imaginary smoke.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

How Steve and Eddie accidentally have a baby:

Robin's cousin just had a baby through a turkey baster. Robin and Eddie are hanging out when Robin brings it up.

Eddie: There's no way! It doesn't seem possible.

Robin: Dude, you're carrying around your own turkey baster.

Eddie: Nope. Nope. Nope. No way!

Robin: We have the material. We have an actual turkey baster. Let's test out a theory.

Eddie: And if it does work?

Robin: Then you and Steve get a baby like you've been talking about.

Eddie: You know, maybe Steve is right. Maybe we shouldn't hang out without him.

Robin: Coward.

Eddie: . . .

Robin: . . .

Eddie: *narrows eyes* Do it.

A couple of months later. . .

Eddie greeted Steve with a kiss as soon as he walked into their home and snuggled into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

Eddie: So, how mad would you be if I told you that I got your platonic soulmate pregnant?

[chronicowboy]

When Buck shows up on the Diaz doorstep with a vacant frown, Eddie is struck nauseous by the wave of hope that crests in him and the swoop of deep concern in his stomach. He leads Buck into the kitchen without a word, sets him down in a chair and fetches them both a beer from the fridge. He pops the caps off, sets one down in front of Buck, and retreats to lean back against the counter just in case this isn't the conversation he thinks it is.

They drink in a stifling quiet. Eddie watches every tiny micro expression that twitches across Buck's face, catches every tic of his fingers and jump of his leg. He watches and waits and most of all he sees.

"I misunderstood," Buck murmurs eventually, and Eddie has to physically bite down on the hope that rears its head at the words. He thinks back to a pink and yellow heart, an assignment failed correctly in Eddie's opinion.

"How so?" Eddie pushes gently when Buck wavers. Buck's eyes meet his then, for a single moment, heavy with something beyond the fizzle of a three-week-old relationship.

"I never actually asked her out." Buck takes another swig of beer, shakes his head. "She asked me for coffee that first time, but we really only talked about me."

"And the lightning?" Eddie asks. Buck nods.

"And then, we kept meeting up." Eddie holds a gulp of beer in his mouth to distract himself from the sharp stab of pain behind his sternum. "But we kept getting interrupted every time I tried to find out more about her. Every time I tried to talk about more than my death."

"Maybe the universe was screaming at you?" Eddie suggests just to hear Buck's huff of disbelieving laughter.

"Yeah, well, it was wasting its time." Buck leans back in his chair, takes a deep breath. "Natalia said enough for the universe."

Eddie swallows another mouthful of beer, washes his heart back down his throat and into his ribcage for safekeeping. He'd known, of course. He'd known this was going to happen. Eddie sees Buck, so of course he sees Buck's relationships too. He saw Buck still pining after Abby even when it was clear how it had already ended. He saw Ali's hesitance in the hospital waiting room and just knew this was too much for her to handle. He saw Taylor from the very beginning. And he saw Natalia too, even though he didn't really. But he knew a death doula asking death's best friend for coffee couldn't end well.

"I actually managed to ask her out on a date at lunch today." Buck sighs, deep and turbulent. "She was very nice about rejecting me. Seems, she thought I knew this was more of a professional interest than a personal one." He scoffs, drops his head into his hands. "Thing is, I know that now. Not just because she told me, but because I realised I was only really using her to come to terms with... everything?" He brings his head out of his hands, sets his chin on his palm, gazes up at Eddie with something breathtakingly honest in his eyes. "I just... I thought she could make my death mean something. I needed it to mean something."

"Buck," Eddie sighs, sits himself down in the chair opposite, "you know that's not how it works. There's no rhyme and reason to death. As much as we might want there to be. You can look for a reason all you'd like, but that's how people drive themselves insane." Eddie folds his arms over his chest.

"But I survived, Eddie," Buck says it like he's pleading, "surely that has to mean something."

"And it does," he concedes. "It means you're still here. With the people who love you." And maybe that's too honest for the quiet of the kitchen at half ten, but Eddie finds he doesn't care when Buck looks at him like this. He sits upright, braces himself on the tabletop. "You think any of my near deaths meant anything?" Buck flinches a little at that, looking down at his bottle chastened.

"I don't know." He shrugs. "But the helicopter brought you home, right? In the end?"

"Well," Eddie swallows every drop of bravery he can muster, "maybe the lightning brought you home too. In the end."

"Eddie," Buck breathes, "what?"

"You came here, Buck." Eddie smiles weakly, lets his eyes speak for him. "You came home."

Buck opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, clenches his jaw shut. He glances around the kitchen, drinking in every inch of it, the square spoon in the drying rack that Eddie knows Buck brought from his apartment, the collection of kitschy, overpriced zoo mugs in the cupboard Eddie had left open at the knock on the door, the Hildy coffeemaker that had been one expensive prank.

"I came home," Buck repeats softly. His eyes find their way back to Eddie's. "And I fell asleep on the couch."

"Yeah," Eddie breathes a soft chuckle, "you did."

"Oh."

"The couch will be waiting for you, Buck." Eddie stands, drops his empty bottle into the recycling. "Whenever you're ready, the couch, the home, the kid, all of it, it'll be waiting for you."

"When I'm ready?" Buck croaks.

"When you're ready." Eddie smiles. "We've got time, so take it."

[daffi-990]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 🏙️

Tagged by @diazsdimples & @tizniz. Make sure to check out what they shared today! (and maybe send James a virtual hug or a stupid punny joke? He’s been sick for 3 weeks and I’m sure he could use some cheering up 😘)

I have been wanting so desperately to write the past few days but a cold has my sinuses putting so much pressure on my head I feel like it’s going to explode, plus it’s school holidays and it’s been raining so I’ve got two very energetic kids with cabin fever running around causing mayhem 😅.

BUT! I did manage to write a little something for LA Lonely so yay (even though it may not be great, at least it’s words)

Pre snippet here

Buck is woken up by the shrill sound of a phone ringing. The bed jostles, Buck letting out an annoyed grumble as the warm body that is wrapped around him disappears. There is a kiss pressed to his naked shoulder, a whispered apology and then the rustling of the blankets as the person leaves the bed, answering the phone with a quiet hello.

Rolling over to check the time, Buck’s surprised to see that it’s almost 9. Usually his body clock wakes him up at 7am everyday, whether he stayed up late or not, so sleep-ins are a rare thing. He rolls onto his back, groaning as he stretches his arms up above his head. There’s a slight ache in his ass but it’s a reminder of the fantastic sex he had last night and honestly, Buck doesn’t mind the discomfort.

He hears footsteps on the stairs, the wood creaking slightly and then the most attractive man Buck has ever laid eyes on is standing at the foot of his bed wearing nothing but underwear and a soft apologetic smile that has Buck’s tummy swooping.

Eddie.

The man’s name is Eddie, Buck remembers. And remember he should because he was moaning it loud enough last night.

Eddie has a phone pressed between his ear and shoulder as he picks up his jeans and begins to awkwardly shimmy them up his legs. “I told you, I overslept. But I’m getting ready now and can be there in —” he looks down at his wrist and frowns, his eyes sweeping over the discarded clothes on the floor before zeroing in on Buck’s second nightstand where a clunky watch sits. Eddie grabs the watch, quickly checking the time before he begins strapping it on. “I can be there in 20 minutes, 15 if the traffic is good.”

Buck feels a pang in his chest and then instantly chastises himself. This was just another hookup, a one night stand —nothing more than that. He was foolish to think that what he felt last night with Eddie was anything real. It was just the hormones.

Eddie may have stayed, but that was probably because he was hoping to get lucky again this morning. Or like Buck, he slept in and didn’t get a chance to sneak out before Buck woke up.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @puppyboybuckley @spotsandsocks @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @wikiangela @athenagranted @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @monsterrae1 @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @goforkinard @rainbow-nerdss @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @dangerpronebuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @devirnis @donationwayne @shitouttabuck @sunshinediaz @princessfbi @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jesuisici33 @king-buckley @captain-hen @bekkachaos @bigfootsmom @ladydorian05 @nmcggg @mellaithwen @missmagooglie and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag

[pizzaqueen]

half as much

Wrote a fic inspired by this beautiful art by @bpillustrated Rated T / 1.8k

It’s a good night. The air is warm, the beer is cold, and the sky above is clear, stars twinkling like they have something to prove.

Steve rests his elbows on his knees and sucks in a deep breath, letting the scent of summer fill his nose; the backyard is bathed in moonlight, looking familiar and different, all at once, from his vantage point on the roof. He used to climb out here with Tommy when they were kids, but he hasn’t done it in ages.

It’s nice, though, sitting up here, sharing beer and cigarettes with Eddie, stars shining over them. It’s the kind of night that could easily make Steve start wishing for things that make him feel… Weird.

“Hey!” Eddie nudges Steve, pointing up at the sky with his cigarette. “Shooting star!” He blinks, eyes narrowing. “Or maybe a plane, I don’t know.”

“Oh, yeah, plane, star, no differences at all.”

“Or maybe aliens,” Eddie adds, ignoring Steve. “We should still make wishes, just in case.” A lazy grin spreads over his face, his eyes soft and dark as he looks at Steve. “Close your eyes.”

A wish. The last thing Steve needs tonight. But he closes his eyes all the same, wishes coming too easily, the first that he could have this every night. Or, not this exactly, but being with Eddie. More and more, all Steve wants to do is hang out with him. Be near him. There’s something about him, and the way being with him makes Steve feel—he wishes it was like this with the girls he’s been dating lately.

Steve’s brow furrows. That’s the kind of weird thing he was trying to avoid thinking about. But Eddie does stuff that gets him mixed up. Like when he made them dinner the other week. It was only spaghetti, but it made Steve want.

Steve sighs. It’s the kind of night that makes him wish Eddie were a girl, so they could—

No. It’s not going to happen. It can’t.

Read the rest on AO3

[joshwritesfics]

guys Eddie choosing the water over the fruit juice definitely had an underlying meaning. And the hot priest calling him out for it? For punishing himself? maybe Eddie’s known all along 🫡

[theotherbuckley]

Tidbit Tuesday❣️

Tagged by the lovely @daffi-990 and @diazsdimples (p.s im still getting used to the new name I keep typing 'james' before going wait no.

Guys, I felt bad for all the depressing stuff I've shared so I've started a new fic!! It's a cute high school Valentine's one-shot. Enjoy :)

“Hey, what can we get for you?”

Buck hesitates, “Um—”

“We have cookies for one dollar, brownies for two dollars, roses also for two dollars, and serenades for four dollars. And everything comes with a free note, or you can send a note for fifty cents,” the girl at the desk continues.

Buck scratches his neck, “Can I get a brownie and a rose, please, um, and a note?”

“You got it! Here’s some paper to write your note on,” she says as she hands him a pink heart cut out.

“T-Thank you,” he says, shyly. 

Buck grabs the pen off of the desk, thinking of what to write. Should it be anonymous? He doesn’t want it to be anonymous, but would Eddie get embarrassed if he didn’t? And if he writes his name then everyone will know it was him and if Eddie rejects him then everyone will laugh at him. So it has to be anonymous then. 

Now what to write? Should he be cliche? Ask him to be his Valentine? Or should it be more personal. Agh this was harder than he thought. 

Eddie,  your smile makes my heart beat a little faster,  and your eyes remind me of big cow eyes, but in like a good way.  Love, EB P.S your hair is very floofy, pleaseee don’t cut it <3

There, he thinks, Eddie will know it was him without embarrassing anyone. Perfect.

These boys are dorks <3

Tagging: @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @jeeyuns @wildlife4life @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @spagheddiediaz @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars @malewifediaz  @evanbegins @wikiangela @bucksbirthmark  @puppyboybuckley @underwater-ninja-13 @fionaswhvre @aspecbuddie @lover-of-mine @nmcggg @tizniz @monsterrae1 @l0v3t0hat3y0u @smilingbuckley

[menace-behaviour]

[wheels-of-despair]

The First and Last Breakup of Eddie Munson and Evil Woman Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Once upon a time, two stupid teenagers fell in love. And then they broke up for a stupid reason and spent a whole week doing stupid things because they're stupid teenagers. Contains: A little Evil Woman backstory, a brotherly reveal, misery, idiots in love but being little bitches about it, a happy ending. Words: 5k

SATURDAY

You'd been at some fancy ski resort in Colorado with your father, his shiny new wife, and their two replacement children for seven days.

It felt like seven years.

You only had two precious weeks of winter break before classes switched over for the spring semester, and you'd wasted half of it with people you hated. (And your brother, who hated them just as much as you did.)

But after seven long days of listening to your father's fake laugh, your step-mother's snippy comments, wishing you could drop-kick her brats through a window, and picking tiny trees off your overpriced and underwhelming food, you were almost back home. You didn't typically care for plane rides, but this one wasn't bad at all. When you landed, you'd have someone waiting for you. (Other than your mother. Who you also loved. And were very excited to see.)

You were a little disappointed when you came through the terminal and didn't see him there. You'd kind of hoped he'd hitch a ride with your mom to maximize your remaining Eddie Time over break. But you recovered quickly, gave your mom a big smile and a hug, and called shotgun. (Suck it, bro. The united front only applies in hostile territory.)

You took turns filling her in on how much it sucked, how dumb your step-monster was, and how annoying her brats were.

He wasn't waiting for you at home, either.

"Have you heard from Eddie at all?" you asked as you dumped a pile of dirty clothes in the laundry room.

"Nope," your mom answers, sorting the lights from the darks. "Then again, I'm not really in contact with any teenagers who don't belong to me."

You glance at your watch. "His uncle's probably sleeping now, maybe I should ride over and see…"

"Go on, be back by dinner," she rolls her eyes. "You can bring Eddie with you if you want. I'm making your favorite."

"I should abandon you more often," you joke, dodging a dirty sock she'd tossed at you on your way out.

Eddie's van wasn't at the trailer. Or the arcade. Or the diner. Or any of his favorite places. You drove around town for what felt like half the day before finally giving up and going home.

"Find him?" your mom asks from her place at the stove. You shake your head. "Maybe he got the day wrong?"

"Maybe," you shrug, leaning against the door helplessly.

"Who knows what that little weirdo gets up to when you're not around to keep him in line. You'll find him. For now, why don't you go wake your brother up for dinner?"

You dropped the keys in the bowl by the door and went to do as you were asked. He'd passed out almost immediately after he walked in, happy to be back in his own bed. You envied him.

Dinner was nice. It would've been a lot nicer if your thigh had been pressed against Eddie's, and the scent of his body wash had mixed with the smell of your first decent meal in a week, but it was still nice to be home.

You called him after you knew Wayne would be at work. Three times. No answer. Where the hell is he?

You tossed and turned all night, imagining the worst.

SUNDAY

The next morning, you returned to the trailer. His van was there this time. You knocked on the door next to his bedroom. And then escalated it to a bang, since Wayne wasn't home yet, and Eddie sleeps like a rock.

"Eddie! Wake up!"

Finally, you hear him shuffling around. The door opens a crack.

"Honey, I'm home!" you grin, waiting for him to open the door and pull you in, maybe even kiss you all the way to his bed before pulling you under the covers to warm you up. There was nowhere you'd rather spend the rest of your vacation.

"Hey," he mumbles. "Hang on."

He closes the door in your surprised face and emerges a minute later, wearing an open coat over his bare chest. He'd shoved his feet into a pair of untied boots. His flannel pajama pants are bunched at the top of them. Isn't he cold? He drops onto the sofa on the porch and lights a cigarette.

The coldness of his actions hurts worse than the frigid winter air. What the hell? You've only been gone a week. Had seven days been long enough for him to decide he was happier without you?

"What are you doing here?" he asks, blowing smoke out of his nose and not meeting your eye. Did you do something wrong?

"I wanted to see you," you squeaked, suddenly feeling like an idiot. Are you being too clingy? Did you break up and forget about it?

"Aren't you sick of slummin' it with me?"

"What?" You're not sure you actually made a sound, but the cloud of condensation coming from your mouth indicates that you did.

"You know what I mean."

You shake your head. You don't know where this is headed, but you know you don't like it.

Eddie takes a deep drag. "How long are we gonna keep playing this game?"

"What game?"

"This. You and me."

You have no words.

"We should just get this over with and call it off now."

Your jaw drops.

"Ed…"

"Just go home," he barks, dropping his cigarette into the bucket he uses as an ash tray and going back inside, slamming the door behind him.

You don't know how long you stood there, staring at the door. But eventually, a chill shakes you, and you feel your body drifting back toward the car. You somehow find your way back home. You don't think you blinked during the entire drive.

You drop the keys in the bowl, kick off your shoes, and walk to your room like a zombie. You fall on your bed face-first, not even bothering to take your coat off. And then the crying starts.

MONDAY

That was harder than he thought it would be.

Eddie had thought things were going well. He'd found a girl who was funny, pretty, had good taste in music and movies, and most of all, was willing to put up with him.

It all began to unravel the night you left. He thought it was a little weird, announcing that you were jetting off to some fancy resort with the parent you hardly ever spoke of, like it was no big deal. You'd hardly mentioned it at all: "Oh, by the way, I'm gonna be gone for a week. You gonna miss me?"

Eddie realized he was running low on goods the day before your departure, but decided to prioritize; his supply run could wait another day. After a long goodbye that earned both of you several groans and eyerolls in your driveway as you held up the trip to the airport, he dropped by Rick's to resupply. Those college kids home for the holidays needed a lot of help putting up with their families. When he arrived, Rick and his friend Jimmy were bagging up a new shipment.

Rick asked where Eddie's other half was. Eddie may have bragged on occasion about finding someone perfect, because Rick was a cool guy who would appreciate a cool girl.

Jimmy, on the other hand, was a dick. Eddie didn't particularly want him to know anything more than he absolutely needed to about his personal life, but Rick had asked, and they both sat there waiting for an answer.

"She's with her dad for a week," he'd said tensely, hoping that would be the end of it.

"He live nearby?" Rick asked.

"New York, but they're in Colorado for now."

"Damn, man, that's a hell of a trip," Rick said, taking a swig of his beer.

"Yeah, she'll be back in a few days. Is that something new?" Eddie gestured to an off-colored bag of buds to Rick's right, trying to change the subject. The phone rang, and Rick got up to answer it with a groan, leaving Eddie alone with Jimmy.

"Munson's gone and got himself one of those little rich girls. Didn't think you had it in you, buddy."

"She's not a little rich girl."

"She's on vacation in Colorado. Lemme guess: Some fancy ski resort with a name you can't pronounce?"

Eddie blushed. Jimmy smirked.

"She treat you like a pet poodle? Feed you? Buy you treats when you're a good boy? Make you pose for a nice picture together so she could take you with her? That's to show daddy, bud. Maybe she'll get a new BMW for dumping your scraggly ass."

"Ease up, brother," Rick drawled, coming back into the room.

"Hey, man, I'm jealous!" Jimmy held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and laughed that grating laugh of his. "She got an older sister? Hell, what's her mom look like?"

"Shut up." Eddie growled.

"Here," Rick shoved a few plastic bags into a duffel bag and tossed it at Eddie. "Don't listen to his drunk ass."

But he did.

He let it eat at him for days as he sampled some new product and fixated on your four months together. Every time you'd argued about who was going to pay for dinner, or for a movie, or for the next arcade game. The way you stroked his hair and rubbed his back. Every time you'd packed something extra in your lunch for him. The patches and buttons you'd bring him back every time you visited the city with your mom. The way you claimed to love his grungy clothes and out-of-control hair and said his tiny, cramped bedroom felt like home. Maybe it really was too good to be true.

Didn't make it hurt any less, though.

TUESDAY

Eddie was woken by a frantic banging on the door. It was so intense, it rattled the walls. He grumbled, pulled himself out of the bed he'd hardly left in days, and flung the door open angrily.

"What the hell, Gareth?"

"What the hell did you do to my sister, Munson?" Eddie could practically feel the heat radiating off of the red-faced drummer standing at his door. Jeff was leaning against his mom's car by the road, arms crossed, looking like he wished he was elsewhere.

Eddie sighs. "It's for the best."

"Did you cheat on her?"

"No."

"Were you abducted and probed by aliens, and now need a little alone time to reflect on life?"

"No."

"Then what the fuck?!"

"We're from different worlds," Eddie shrugs, feeling the cold morning air seep in.

"The fuck does that mean?"

Eddie sighs. "Just let it go, man. It's done."

"The fuck does that mean, Eddie?"

"It means you spent your winter break skiing at some resort in Colorado, and I spent mine selling weed in the woods."

Gareth rolls his eyes so hard, Eddie can only see white.

"Is that seriously what this is about?"

Eddie shrugs and wishes he were wearing more clothes.

"You broke up with my sister because she went on vacation?"

The breeze picks up and blows a gust inside. Eddie shudders.

"Are you the dumbest motherfucker on the planet?"

Eddie didn't know how to respond to this. Not that Gareth would have given him a chance anyway.

"Do you think we wanted to go? Our dad is a Grade-A Douchebag. I'm legally required to spend two weeks with him a year. Yeah, legally - he took Mom to court when we decided we didn't want to see him anymore. Awesome parent, right? My sister doesn't even have to go, because she's 18, but she does because she doesn't want me to suffer alone. We hate his fucking guts. We hate his bitchy wife and their snot-nosed kids, we hate every second we have to spend with them. We weren't off skiing and sipping cocoa with Chad and Buffy! Do you know what she did the entire fucking time we weren't being forced into Family Fun Time and photo ops? DO YOU?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"She laid in bed and read The Lord of the Fucking Rings. I've been trying to get her to read them for years, and she always puts it off. But she knows how much you love them, and she wanted to be able to talk to you about it. She laid there and read all three. Took notes like she was gonna be fucking tested on it! FOR YOU, JACKASS."

Eddie's heart sinks into the floor.

"She doesn't give a shit about money or fancy vacations or any of that crap. All she wanted was to come home and be with you, and you fucked that up."

"Shit," Eddie breathes.

"She's been holed up in her room for two days because she thinks you left her for someone else, you idiot. I had to practically waterboard her to get her to talk."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you need to be saying that to."

"I know," he whispers with the last of his air, feeling like a deflated balloon.

"Then go fucking do it already. She's at home. In bed. Listening to the same fucking song over and over again. If I have to hear it one more time, I swear to God, I'm going to take the tape, stomp it, and feed you the shards. FIX IT."

Gareth turns and stomps off the porch. Jeff shoots Eddie an apologetic look and gets back in the car. He stands there and watches them drive away.

Maybe Eddie Munson really is the dumbest motherfucker on the planet.

* * * * * * *

A knock on your door pulls you out of your trance. You'd woken up early today, on your last day of winter break, and decided to quit moping and do something productive. So you alphabetized everything that could be alphabetized. Your tapes and records were finally in order - you'd even rediscovered some albums you'd forgotten you owned, which was nice, because you were sick of hearing Eddie in everything. You now sat in your bedroom floor, surrounded by all the books you'd pulled off your shelf.

"What."

"Eddie's here," came the muffled voice of your brother. He'd stayed at Jeff's the night before; you hadn't even realized he was home yet.

"I don't care," you lied.

You can hear him sigh through the door.

"He brought flowers."

"I hate flowers."

You hear a thump on the door, as if Gareth has banged his head against it.

"I'm letting him in. Just listen to him. You're both making me fuckin' miserable."

You bristle, but lean over and press stop on your tape player. Might as well get this over with.

"Hey, uh… you gonna let me in?"

You glare at the closed door, hoping he can sense it.

"Okay. I'll stay out here. I, uh… Look, I don't know what I'm doing here. You know that. You're the only one I ever… I thought you were… whatever. Doesn't matter. I'm sorry."

A few days ago, you might've taken pity on him. Opened the door, fallen into his arms, shed a few tears.

But you're out of tears. You'd let that unfortunate interaction fester like an open wound. You'd spent the last few days going over every possible scenario for the sudden change in the boy you thought you loved. It hadn't occurred to you until day two that maybe he'd come outside for his little speech because there was someone else inside. Why else would he come out into that cold December morning in his pajamas to smoke half a cigarette and dump the old ball and chain?

And this is the apology you get? You wasted the last of your winter break crying over this asshole. He dumped you. And he can't even tell you why? You reach over to your tape player, press play, and turn up the volume. Immature? Maybe. Better than opening the door and ripping him to shreds, or worse, taking one look at those big brown eyes and collapsing in his arms like some weak Victorian damsel? Probably.

Eddie eventually walks out without a word, leaving the supermarket flowers on the kitchen table.

WEDNESDAY

The first day back was always an easy one; figure out where you're going, receive a pile of papers warning you of the work to come, try to plan the best route to each class. Although for you, that route would now be the most efficient; not the one that would allow you to steal a few seconds here and there with Eddie Fucking Munson.

Of course you had first period together.

You sat as far away from him as you possibly could; he was sitting in the back left corner. You took the front right. Close to the teacher's desk. You were here to learn, after all.

A pretty-boy wearing a Cubs jacket asked if the seat next to you was taken. You smiled and gestured for him to sit. Cubs Guy made small-talk about the workload, and you smiled at him like his stupid comments were amusing to you… all the while, hoping Eddie was watching. You refused to turn around and check.

You finally caught a glimpse of him after the bell rang. Some little blonde had taken the seat next to him. He was talking and gesturing to her with a big dumb smile on his face. You wanted to smack it off.

You said "excuse me" to Cubs Guy as sweetly as you could before sliding past him and practically running into the hallway to get away from them.

Your next class was uneventful… but you saw him in the hall after third period. Standing at a locker that wasn't his. With the tiny blonde who'd sat next to him that morning. Was that her? Was that the one he left alone in his bed while he took a few minutes to come ditch the old bag?

And then he looked up and caught your eye. You stood there, frozen, screaming inside… and watched that smirking motherfucker reach forward and flick one of that tiny cunt's dangly earrings. You could practically hear her giggle from the other end of the hallway. You wanted to rip her earrings out and pierce his balls with them.

Instead, you ducked into the nearest bathroom to let some angry tears fall.

* * * * * * *

He knew it was an asshole thing to do. But in his defense, you started it.

He knew the new girl would never speak to him again as soon as the first popular kid noticed her and pulled her into their own clique. They'd warn her away from trash like him - just like they tried to with you - but he suspected that this one would fall for it.

But for now, cute little Kimmy didn't know any better. Didn't know what her classmates thought of him and his Satanic hobbies, where he lived, what was in his lunchbox, how much he loved the girl who spent first period chatting animatedly with some douchebag in the front row and refusing to look at him.

So he offered his services. Told her how to get to each class. Met her at her locker with the promise of escorting her to lunch, where he was sure he'd lose her to the first jock who decided to rescue her from the clutches of the freak.

That's when he made eye contact with the one who mattered.

You were standing in the middle of the hall, completely still. The crowd parted and flowed around you like water. You were finally looking at him. It was the first time he'd looked into your eyes since the day you left for Colorado.

Before he knew what he was doing, he reached down to the bubbly little blonde in front of him and gave her dangly plastic earring a playful flick, never breaking eye contact with you. He wasn't sure exactly why. Payback for first period, maybe? Would it make you jealous? Mad enough to stomp over and yell at him? Hit him? Cram him into Kimmy's open locker? He'd take anything at this point.

But you turned on your heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Shit.

THURSDAY

"Hi!" Cubs Guy greets as he plops down on the low brick wall next to you. You can't stand eating in the cafeteria anymore. Where he is. You'd rather brave the cold and eat outside.

"Hi?"

"I'm Paul. From first and third?"

"Hi, Paul from first and third." He smiles. Why are his teeth so white?

"I thought you looked lonely, so I decided to drop in and say hi. How are you today?"

"I'm fine," you lied, faking a smile. "Thanks for checking on me." You can leave now.

"You used to hang out with Munson, right?"

"Yeah," you murmured.

"Finally realized how annoying he is, huh?"

You faked another smile and contemplated sticking your plastic fork in his eye.

"Have you started The Great Gatsby yet?" he asked.

"Just a few pages. The 20s aren't really my thing."

"Mine, either. Outlawing alcohol during the rise of jazz? That's just cruel!" He grins, and you're surprised to find a genuine laugh bubble from your throat. How long has it been since you actually laughed?

You spent the rest of your lunch period chatting about the reading list, your other classes, and what you did over winter break. It was surprisingly not terrible.

"Listen, are you seeing anyone right now?" he asked.

As if on cue, Eddie and Grant walk through the doors closest to you. You turn your head toward Paul and focus on him before you accidentally make eye contact with Eddie.

"Nope, why do you ask?"

Paul dazzles you with that brilliant smile again. "Would you like to go out with me tomorrow night? You look like you could use a night on the town."

You can see Eddie out of the corner of your eye. He's still by the door, watching. Grant shifts awkwardly. "I'd love to!" you chirp. You doubt Eddie knows what you're agreeing to, but you hope he catches the enthusiasm on your face. Even if it's fake.

"Awesome! How about dinner and a movie!"

"That sounds great!"

You glance toward Eddie, but he's gone. You see Grant retreat into the door they just came out of before it

You hate yourself.

* * * * * * *

Well, Eddie was right about one thing: Kimmy was history. The cheerleaders had swallowed her up the second she stepped into the cafeteria yesterday. Now she sat on the edge of her seat in first period, as if the guy who told her how to get to the gym and the trick to getting her locker open would snatch her up and throw her on an altar the second the teacher turned her back.

But he was used to that.

It was you ignoring him that hurt.

He thought maybe his little earring stunt would make you mad enough to threaten him. Attention is attention. But you hadn't even looked at him since. You sat next to that dickhead whose name he didn't even know - did you know it? - and quietly took notes. Were you just copying the board, or were you writing to whatshisface like you used to with Eddie? The thought nearly broke him.

But what he saw at lunch really did.

He didn't know where you were; only that you weren't sitting next to him. He ate quietly for a change, letting Jeff steer today's discussion toward some horror novel he was reading. He didn't have the energy for a rant or a lecture or even a pointed taunt. He let the conversation carry on like he wasn't even there. At least it was probably easier on Gareth this way, who reluctantly remained at the Hellfire table.

Eddie got up and headed to the van for a midday smoke. Grant followed. He wasn't sure why. Does he look so bad that they're afraid to leave him alone? They walked through the hall silently.

When he came through the doors, he saw you sitting on the brick wall with that asshole from first period. Alone. Smiling. Together. "I'd love to!" you chirped at the meathead. Eddie doesn't hear his response, but your words echo in his head. Did you just agree to a date? With someone else?

He storms back the way he came, not seeing anything but the blur of fluorescent lighting through the tears trying not to fall.

FRIDAY

Part of you felt bad about agreeing to a date just to spite Eddie.

The other part decided to put on makeup and wear some of the clothes your father and step-monster had bought for you, since Eddie would be there for band practice when Paul picked you up. ("No children of mine are going to run around here looking like ragamuffins!") Poor Gareth, being the new guy, couldn't exactly call off practice on account of relationship drama.

Your brother takes one look at you and rolls his eyes. "Really?" You shrug, and he goes out to the garage to wait for the rest of the guys.

Now the feel-bad part is in the lead.

But there's no time to change now. You look at your watch, grab your purse, and go to wait by the front door. Most people approach your house from the front for the first time, before they learn that you typically use the back door by the garage to come in and out. But while you're watching the front, Gareth yells your name through the back. "Your date just pulled up."

Fuck.

You clack through the house in your stupid heels, feeling like a kid playing dress-up. This is stupid. This is so fucking stupid.

When you get to the back door, you take a deep breath before opening it. You need to appear cool, collected, and uncaring that you're going to have to walk right past Eddie.

"Hi!" Paul greets again, just a few feet away from the door.

"Hi," you smile. Paul's a nice guy. You're going out with him because you want to. Not to hurt the person you actually care about. Like he hurt you.

"Ready?" he asks, offering his hand to help you down the lone step. You force a smile and take it, but let it go as you walk past the garage together.

"Have her back by ten, or she'll turn into a pumpkin!" Gareth yells.

"That's your little brother?" he asks quietly. You nod. "Gotcha, chief!"

You wish you were dead.

On the street, Paul opens the door of his shiny new car and waits for you to settle in before he closes it.

He jogs to the other side, slides in, and starts the engine. A pop song is playing on the radio. The car's interior is spotless. Not a single candy wrapper or empty drink cup is in the floorboard. No overflowing ashtray. No personality whatsoever. You smile at Paul and reach for the seatbelt, but your eyes linger on the open garage in the sideview mirror.

The boys are watching Eddie. Eddie is watching you.

You're vaguely aware that your date is yammering on about something as he puts his car in gear. Your eyes were locked on Eddie. Paul pulls away from the curb and eases his car down the street at a sensible pace. Eddie begins to shrink in the mirror, and you feel your heart shrinking with him.

Is this really how it ends?

No more listening to him curse as he tries to learn new songs, or playing with his hair while you watch movies, or sharing milkshakes at the diner, or writing notes in class, or browsing the discount bins for new music, or making plans to do nothing together whenever your schedules allowed. You knew you should be paying attention to the guy you were on a date with, but your only thought was Eddie. The boy who didn't want you anymore. Give it up, girl. He's moved on.

And then, you saw it.

He reached up with the hand that wasn't gripping the neck of his guitar to swipe at his eyes.

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop the car."

"Did you forget something?" Paul asks, still moving.

"Just stop!"

He slams on the breaks and looks at you like you're crazy.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this." You grip your purse in your left hand as you fumble for the door handle with your right, unable to take your eyes off the metalhead in the mirror.

"Are you seriously ditching me for that fr--" The door slams before he can finish his sentence.

You walk back down the street and toward your open garage as quickly as your stupid heels will allow. He stands and stares until you reach the end of your driveway. Your eyes are locked on his; he's all you see.

He tries to pull off the guitar that's been hanging idly during your staring match, but the strap gets caught in his hair. Jeff helps him out of it, and holds it while Eddie walks toward you. First in a daze, and then with purpose.

When he picks up his pace, your tears begin to fall. You're sobbing by the time you're in his arms again. And so is he.

There's a flurry of choked 'I'm sorry's and 'I love you's. Your lips meet in a wet, frenzied kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair. His arms squeeze you tight. You've got your Eddie back. Nothing else matters.

When you finally pull away, you wipe your eyes on the back of your hands and look at the black smudge they left behind. You look up at Eddie bashfully.

"Bet I look gorgeous right now," you joke.

"You do," he says, tucking your hair behind your ear with a smile. "You know how much I love raccoons."

"Shut up," you laugh, giving him a gentle shove. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to him again. After a moment of holding each other tightly, you reach up to cup his face. You bring him down for another kiss, then rest your foreheads against each other.

"Don't ever leave me again," you whisper.

"I won't."

[katsu28]

even after all these years

pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

summary: based on the prompt “i take my little sibling to their school’s halloween carnival and you’re one of the volunteers/workers there and you’re super cute” but slightly different

warnings: light swearing, bats

a/n: is it even legal to finally be posting a halloween fic in december? let’s pretend it is and i’m not criminally late with it! but in my defense, i started writing this before halloween and then just never finished it </3

navigation + taglist

Eddie didn’t want to be here. Now don’t get him wrong, he liked Halloween just as much as the next person, but being around all these people that were ready to hunt him down and burn him at the stake just months ago, who were now pretending like it never happened, just didn’t tickle his fancy. 

But Dustin and Steve were very adamant on him coming with them, and as much as he wanted to decline, he couldn’t. 

So now here he was, shuffling behind his friends as they wandered around the Hawkins High parking lot that had been converted into a makeshift Halloween carnival, trying his best to ignore the stares and whispers aimed his way. 

Eddie was no stranger to them, but these were different. He wasn’t just a freak, he was a so called “murderer”. Even though his name had been cleared a long time ago. 

“Dude, you look like you’re about to piss yourself. Relax.” Steve’s voice drew him out of his thoughts, his eyes flicking to the brown haired boy currently raising a brow at him. “You’re fine, Munson.” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever.” Eddie muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket sulkily. 

Dustin cast a glance back at him, frowning when he saw the older boy kicking a rock down the gravel path, much more interested in the toes of his dirty sneakers than anything else around him. He felt bad for dragging Eddie here when he obviously wasn’t having any fun, but it was good for him to get out more. He’d barely left Steve’s house at all the past seven months, only managing to drag himself to Hellfire meetings and to give Dustin an occasional ride home from school. 

“Hey, you wanna come with me to get my face painted?” Dustin asked excitedly, making his way back to tug on Eddie’s sleeve with a grin. “I was thinking like a huge spiderweb, straight across my cheek. Pretty badass, don’t you think?” 

“I guess.” Eddie shrugged, instantly feeling guilt pool in his stomach when he saw Dustin’s shoulders slump. So he tried his best to remedy it by plastering a smile on his face, clapping him on the back and pulling him closer by the collar of his jacket. “That does sound real badass, Henderson. Lead the way.” 

Dustin perked right back up, launching into a mindless ramble about some species of spider that Eddie wasn’t paying attention to all that much as they made their way through the crowds of kids and parents to the face painting table. Immediately plunking into a free chair across from one of the Hawkins High science teachers, Dustin started talking again, probably forgetting that Eddie had come with him. 

Eddie, on the other hand, was about ready to ditch him, since he was getting a few weird looks as he just stood in the middle of the array of tables awkwardly. 

“Hey, I know you. You’re—” 

“Yeah, yeah, Eddie the freak, satanic worshipper, murderer, yada, yada,” He grumbled, deciding to slouch over into another flimsy plastic chair with his arms crossed over his chest to get out of people’s way, barely hastening you a glance before focusing his scowl on the worn out knees of his jeans. 

“Uh…okay. That’s not what I was thinking of though.” You frowned. “Hawkins middle school debate team, sixth grade.” 

Eddie’s eyes snapped up, widening in horror at the sight of you. You, out of all the people he could’ve snapped at.

He remembered you, and he definitely remembered that year. The year he went to live with his uncle, which then turned into two, then three, then the rest of his life. 

He’d been having trouble adjusting to being moved around so much, so he’d started acting out. Arguing with teachers, interrupting class randomly, cutting school, the whole nine yards. Apparently, he was so good at arguing with authority figures, they decided to stick him on the debate team as punishment. But honestly, it wasn’t so much of a punishment when he realized that you were also on the debate team. 

Bright eyed and bushy tailed with the brightest of smiles, you were Eddie’s first crush. You were one of the only people who didn’t treat him like a total freak, sitting with him during debate practices and talking to him when no one else would, even going so far as to share your snacks with him. You never brushed him off or called him a weirdo, and you’d even kicked Tommy H in the nuts one time when he made a dig at Eddie’s clothes. 

So when you moved out of Hawkins, he was pretty bummed. But now you were back, and he still felt the same butterflies in his stomach right now that he did back when he was twelve. 

“What was that about being a murderer?” You tilted your head at him in confusion, to which he shook his head quickly. 

“Nothing! I’m not—my name was cleared, I didn’t, uh, I didn’t murder anyone!” He tugged at the collar of his jacket awkwardly, half expecting you to shoot him a weird look. 

But you just smiled, laughing a little bit. “That’s always good. Hi, Eddie.” 

“Hi,” Eddie said sheepishly, holding up a ringed hand in greeting. “I didn’t know you were back.” 

“Yeah, I’ve only been here for a couple weeks…” You trailed off, fiddling with your paintbrush. Hoping I’d magically run into you somehow, you wanted to add. But you didn’t. “I like your hair. Much better than the buzzcut.” 

Eddie’s hand flew to his unruly curls, trying his best to smooth them down even the tiniest bit. You remembered what his hair looked like? More importantly, you remembered him? 

“Oh, uh, thanks. I like your hair too.” His words came out in an awkward jumble that you just beamed even brighter at, eyes crinkling at the corners. I like your hair too? Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

You didn’t seem to think it was stupid. “You’re sweet. How’ve you been? What’ve you been up to?” 

Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably. What had he accomplished since the last time he saw you? 

He’d become a drug dealer, started a club that everyone thought promoted Satanic worship, been accused for multiple gruesome murders, almost died in Hawkins the horror dimension, came back, and was now even more of a loser freak than he’d already been.

“Uh, not much. Nothing too interesting.” He mumbled. “So…what, uh, what brings you back here?” 

“My grandparents’ house was damaged in that earthquake back in March and they came to live with us right after, so we’re just here trying to…hopefully salvage some stuff, maybe see if we can fix it up.” You shrugged, waving your brush around aimlessly. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s too much we can do, that was a pretty intense quake.” Eddie didn’t mean to, but he flinched a bit at your mention of the quake, seeing as what really happened was so much worse than a natural disaster. 

You noticed, instantly scrambling to rectify your statement with flaming cheeks. “I mean, obviously, you knew that, you lived through it. Sorry, that was really insensitive of me, I don’t—” 

“It’s fine! Don’t worry about it.” Eddie shook his head quickly, brushing it off. “I’m—I’m okay.” I nearly got eaten alive by demon bats from hell, but I’m okay. Obviously he couldn’t tell you that. Not only would he sound absolutely insane, but it would definitely scare you off, which is something he really didn’t want. 

“Right, well, anyways—” You started, but were cut off by a cleared throat from a quite severe looking woman with a clipboard standing a few feet away, who was aiming a very pointed looking glare in your direction. Leaning in a little closer, your nose wrinkled in distaste, voice hushed so as to not draw her attention even more. “That’s my supervisor. She thinks I talk too much, paint too little.” 

“Supervisor? Aren’t you a volunteer?” Eddie whispered, brows furrowing. 

You shrugged. “Apparently this whole carnival thing is super serious this year.” 

“Uh huh, because painting pumpkins on kids’ faces is such a serious thing.” 

“According to her, it’s pretty much the most serious thing in the whole history of serious things.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” 

You had to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter, such a simple act that still sent a shot of warmth through Eddie’s chest. It also garnered the attention from your supervisor, whose angry steps quickly spurred you back to business as usual. 

“And what would you like painted on your face today, Eddie?” 

His lips quirked into a miniscule smile at your sudden forced enthusiastic tone, which brought a flush to your cheeks. 

“Sorry,” You apologized sheepishly. “Too teacher-y?” 

“I’d say just enough teacher-y.” He observed, nodding thoughtfully. “Reminds me of Mrs. Paulson from middle school. Y’know, the old lady who always smelled like pepperoni.” 

“Pepperoni Paulson, I remember her,” You nodded as well, then squinted at him suspiciously. “Wasn’t she arrested for public intoxication a few years ago?” 

“Yeah. I stand by my point.” 

You let out a noise of indignance, eyebrows creasing and nose wrinkling in such an adorable way that Eddie almost felt the need to turn tail and run. 

“Okay, asshole, what do you want painted on you?” You huffed playfully, poking his arm with the pointy end of the brush in your hand. 

Eddie scratched at his nose. “Eh, I dunno. Surprise me.” 

“You sure you wanna give me free reign after that smug comment? Might just draw a dick on your face to be funny.” 

He couldn’t help it. A snorting laugh fell from his lips at how utterly serious you looked as you dipped the brush into the colorful array of paint in front of you. 

You were the first person outside his friends not to tiptoe around him like he was about to snap at any second. Maybe it was because you had no idea what had really happened in Hawkins, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t used to it, but he liked it. He really liked it. 

Both Steve and Dustin’s heads whipped around at the sound of Eddie’s laughter, regarding each other with identical wide eyed stares before gawking over at him. They hadn’t heard him laugh in months. They didn’t even know he still could laugh. 

But there he was, sitting at the face painting booth across from you, head tipped back, shoulders shaking, looking…happy. 

Eddie, on the other hand, felt like he was about to spontaneously combust at your close proximity—your fingers gripping his chin to keep him still, the delicate swipe of your brush across his cheek, your knees wedged between his own to get the right angle for steady strokes. How you radiated vanilla and cinnamon and the kind of warmth that spread through his own body with every carefully controlled breath he took. 

To make matters worse, your tongue poked out from between your lips in pure concentration, something Eddie realized you had in common. Though he probably wasn’t as cute when he did it. 

His gaze bounced around, focusing on anywhere else, anything else but you. 

“You look kinda uncomfortable right now, Eddie,” You said softly, your breath a barely there puff of air across his skin that still had goosebumps raising on his arms. “Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?” 

“No, I’m—I’m good! It’s just…cold out today.” He finished lamely, fingers fiddling with the rips in his pants. 

“It is.” You concurred, smiling softly. “I gotta say, I definitely haven’t missed Hawkins in that area.”

Hawkins has definitely missed you, Eddie thought. Okay, maybe not Hawkins. Just me. 

The paint on his cheek was cold too, but it did nothing to quell the flame of his cheeks to rosy red the more he realized that twelve year old Eddie would give anything to be where he was right now. Hell, even himself from a few months ago would’ve had an aneurysm if he knew that he actually had the chance to talk to you again. 

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, jerking him back to reality. “Alright, take a look, tell me what you think.” You passed him a small mirror, leaning back in your seat. “You can tell me if you hate it. I’ll just go curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment.” 

“I won’t hate it, I promise. I—” He glanced in the mirror, stopping mid-sentence when he saw what you’d created oh so carefully. A flurry of tiny bats scattered across his cheek, the black paint a stark contrast to his pale skin. 

“Oh my god, you hate it!” You moaned, hiding your face behind your hands. 

“I don’t!” 

“You so do!” 

“Y/N, I promise I don’t hate it. See, look,” He pulled up the sleeve of his jacket hastily to reveal a similar grouping of bats tattooed on his forearm. “More bats.” 

The scars marring his torso and chest twinged, not out of pain, but as a reminder. Bats. Obviously, he couldn’t tell you the real reason why he wasn’t too fond of bats, but he’d sooner face the Upside Down again than tell you he hated what you’d done. 

“Oh, okay. Good. Because I was afraid I just blew my chance at impressing you after all these years.” 

“You—you wanted to impress me?” He asked incredulously, eyebrows furrowing. 

“‘Course I did. Feels a little late to admit this, but I totally had a crush on you in middle school.” 

“You did?” 

“I did. I was even thinking about telling you before I left, but it just…didn’t feel right, y’know? Dropping such a big thing and then bailing?” 

“Y/N, you moved away, that’s not bailing.” Eddie shook his head, then inhaled a sharp breath. “I—I actually liked you too. And I wanted to tell you back then, but then you…y’know, moved, and I thought I’d lost my chance.” 

It suddenly felt a lot harder to breathe, but you managed to utter your next words despite it. “But now I’m back.” 

“Now you’re back,” He repeated. “You’re back, and I get another one.” His hand came down on your knee, the warmth of his palm sending a different kind of warmth to your cheeks. “I still like you. I don’t think I ever stopped. I actually think it got worse—no, not worse! Liking you was never a bad thing, it was a really good thing. It has been a really good thing, I just—I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again, and now that I have, I…am totally rambling, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to—” 

“Eddie—” 

“—overload you with my feelings, I just felt like it was something I should tell you, since—” 

“Eddie,” You repeated, your hand blanketing his on your jeans. “Stop talking.” His mouth snapped shut immediately, brown eyes wide. “I still like you too.” 

“You…you do?” You nodded. “Even after all these years?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a soft smile. 

“Even after all these years.” You echoed, tapping along the rings adorning his knuckles. His fingers twitched, aching to entwine with yours, but he was afraid that he might be hallucinating right now. There was no way in hell you felt the same way, now or ever. He wanted to pinch himself, but he felt it might be weird. 

You could tell by the way his mouth dropped open the slightest bit that the cogs in his mind were working overdrive, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. “I’m gonna kiss you now, Eddie. Feel free to stop me.” 

Eddie wasn’t going to stop you. He’d never even dream about it. 

When your lips touched his, he could swear that he was dreaming—that any second now, he’d wake up in his own bed, back to the reality where this whole thing never happened. Where you were still god knows where, miles and miles away from Hawkins, probably not even paying him any mind at all. 

This time, he really did pinch himself, and he was beyond pleased to realize that this was real, that you were in fact here, kissing him, right now. He leaned forward into you, one hand sliding around the back of your neck while the other cupped your cheek tenderly. Yours came up to grip at his biceps, fingers curling into the worn leather of his sleeves as if you were securing him place, making sure that he couldn’t slip away the way he did all those years ago. 

And when his hands moved down to your chair to drag you a little bit closer, you took that chance to take his face in yours, tracing the curve of his jaw lightly as his mouth moved against yours eagerly. 

Both of you seemed to realize that you were in a public place with lots of people around at the same time, pulling away from each other swollen lipped and a little breathless, but still with identical stupid grins on your faces. 

“Oh no,” You pouted, holding up your hand for him to see the splotches of black paint smudging your fingertips. “I ruined my hard work.” 

“Looks like you’re just gonna have to do them all over again.” 

“Looks like it.” 

“Can I make a request though?” You raised an eyebrow at his sheepish turned suspiciously giddy grin. “No more bats.” 

“I knew you hated them, you asshole!” 

“I said I didn’t hate them! They’re really good, but bats are just…not my thing.” 

“Says the boy with the bat tattoo.” 

Cocking his head to the side, Eddie ignored you, instead opting to lean in and kiss you again, and of all the ways he could’ve changed the subject, this was by far the best. 

Eddie had never been so grateful for his friends’ constant pestering and dragging him everywhere he didn’t want to go, because it led him back to you, the one that got away. Twelve year old Eddie knew it was you, current day Eddie knew it was you, and now you knew it too. 

He’d thank Steve and Dustin later when he had the time, but not now. Eddie was too busy planning out all the things he wanted to say to you and do with you before his luck turned and you were gone again. Though if he’s being honest, he doesn’t think you’re planning on leaving anytime soon. 

Neither are you. No way in hell were you thinking about leaving when coming back to Hawkins got you paint smudged fingers, some closure, and finally Eddie Munson. 

Even after all these years.

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