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#okay calm Eddie but THIS ART
munson-blurbs · 10 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.
Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying
WC: 8.2k
Chapter 14/20
Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.
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Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home. 
Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal. 
Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos. 
Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day. 
Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface. 
“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”
You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight. 
Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”
There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.
“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”
“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”
“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”
He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.
Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.
“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”
Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work. 
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“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus. 
Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.
“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”
“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.
Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.
Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you. 
“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it. 
“Ms. Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.
He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”
He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two. 
You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.
“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck. 
“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.
As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning. 
“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.
You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.
Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.
You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 
The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day. 
“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates. 
Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.
It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.
It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.
“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”
“Eds?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”
You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”
“Sounds messy.”
“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”
Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”
“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”
“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite. 
You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”
“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”
“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”
“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling. 
“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place. 
To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”
“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water. 
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Could Corroded Coffin play again?
It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on. 
We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too. 
He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light. 
Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—
“‘Lo?”
Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”
“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”
“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”
Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.” 
Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”
There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.” 
Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”
“Mhm.”
“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”
Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.
“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”
“Of course.”
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“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.
“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”
Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”
“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”
“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”
“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers. 
“Did your friends go?”
“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”
Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”
“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.” 
“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.
“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”
Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break. 
Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get. 
He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference. 
“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”
Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”
“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”
“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief. 
“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”
Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”
Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.
“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”
Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”
The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.
“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”
The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.
You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.
Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.
“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe. 
He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.
“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”
“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch. 
“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning. 
A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.
“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.
“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.” 
“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.
Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”
Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.
“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think. 
But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him. 
Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.
“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”
“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”
Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”
“Not you.”
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You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.
“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”
Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.
“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs. 
“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.
“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”
“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key. 
Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again. 
“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”
He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings. 
“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”
Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”
Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”
Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right.  You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson. 
“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”
Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.
“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.
“For what?”
“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”
You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.
“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”
Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.
As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.
“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.
Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”
“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”
“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!” 
Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie. 
Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’
No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again. 
“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort. 
“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head. 
Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.” 
Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida. 
“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys. 
Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand. 
With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?” 
He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there. 
“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”
Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”
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The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat. 
Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”
Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that. 
“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”
But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.
Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”
Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”
There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.
“Yeah. I can stay.”
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Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.
You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long. 
“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”
“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one. 
“Being in a hospital?”
He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”
The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.
“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”
“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”
“But what if Jeff needs—”
“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning. 
Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful. 
You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…
You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then. 
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The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders. 
“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.
“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion. 
As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”
“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”
Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–
“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”
Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”
“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.
Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.” 
There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment. 
“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”
“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns. 
Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner. 
He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”
Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”
“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this. 
It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.
Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.
“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”
You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”
There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.
It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.
“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”
“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.
“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.” 
“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”
Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister. 
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The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.
“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”
Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.” 
“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.
“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent. 
“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.” 
Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”
“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations. 
“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”
“I mean, I—”
“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”
And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.
“I love her.”
--
@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday
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peppermint-toads · 1 year
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𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗?
𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
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𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 long time no see and 80s slasher summer is here
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 light piv sex, insecure reader, 1.4k words, bad grammar and smut writing sry
𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 you and eddie are camp counselors and hookup every summer, but it’s not enough for you and poor eddie baby
“Miss me, Munson?” You asked from the door, waving away the milky smoke that pillowed from his spot on his bunk.
Twelve summers at Camp Blue Lake had led you and Eddie into your early adulthood where you’d become counselors.
As the summers got hotter and you grew older, you and Eddie had started an annual summer fling of sorts, a tradition, really.
Like clockwork, you would sneak away during the evenings when the campers were in the mess hall, making the most of every moment whether it was in his bunk or yours, the art cabin, or sometimes the woods.
You popped your hip out, hoping he would like the new shorts you bought for the season.
He rolled his head towards you, looking you up and down to see what time apart had done to you. He tried to look uninterested. He was shirtless, and you couldn’t help but ogle. He’d gotten new tattoos.
“Don’t you know this kinda thing is bad luck? You know what happened to those counselors in Friday the 13th, right?”
“What? Did the Hawkins girls treat you too well this year?” Your dejected tone didn’t go unnoticed, even though you tried to conceal it with a smirk.
You thought maybe he’d found a girlfriend and didn’t need you anymore.
Truth was, Eddie dreaded seeing you more and more each summer because leaving you was getting harder and harder. And missing you was even worse.
He laughed a little as he exhaled.
“Not quite.”
His smile faded into something sad as he succumbed to your pretty face staring at him with an insecurity he wasn’t used to.
“Indianapolis boys treat you well?”
You shook your head. You hadn’t even bothered with other boys since the summer of ‘85; you were completely and totally hung up on Eddie.
“You don’t have yourself a little boyfriend, huh?”
He sat up on his palms, finally nodding you over to him. You plopped onto his tiny bunk happily, snatching his joint from his fingers.
“You don’t have to say it, it’s okay. I know you missed me.”
He scoffed.
You lie on your side, facing him and taking in all of the features you missed so much during the year. At some point, he’d worked up the courage to run his fingers softly across your cheek and through your hair.
It was slow and shy, but it was like riding a bike. You never really forgot how to love Eddie.
You watched him carefully, and he watched you back.
“It’s gonna be a hot summer,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His hand stopped and you frowned.
“D’you think Brad will wear those denim cutoffs this year?”
You sighed dreamily, “I can only hope.”
Eddie smacked your shoulder. “Hey!”
After a short fit of giggles, silence settled over the empty cabin again, and the buzzing of the cicadas became overpowering.
“If you don’t want to… you know… hook up or whatever you can just say so.” He sighed.
As if he hadn’t already stashed heaps of trojans underneath his thin mattress.
“Why wouldn’t I? We do it every summer? Unless—unless you don’t want to.”
You could feel the heat rising in your throat and heating your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Eddie really had probably found some sweet girl in Hawkins and felt too bad to tell you—
“Of course I do!” He rushed out. “I just thought I would… dunno, give you an out?”
You weren’t the only one feeling insecure. You decided to do the one thing you knew best.
The thing that always calmed you down. The thing that you did to celebrate winning color wars for the fifth summer in a row. The thing you missed so much while you were apart.
His lips felt the same as you remembered, instantly calming you despite the taste of stale weed on his tongue.
Usually, the first hookups of the camp season were eager and excited, squeezed in before the campers were set to arrive. But as you sunk down onto Eddie’s dick, something felt different. There was no rush.
The smell of his hairspray mixed with the heavy, humid air of the cabin, and the way Eddie felt so deep in your stomach after months without him almost made you cry.
He was so soft with you, and his eyebrows stayed knit together as he watched your breaths become more shallow and skin more flushed.
Everything felt so familiar, and as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder you could barely contain the words nagging your tongue. I love you, Eddie. Please, please, please. I can’t spend another minute away from you I—
His soft grunting pulled you from your thoughts. You could tell he was getting close.
Psycho. You’re just his summer fling. Always have been, always will be.
You told yourself that, but you didn’t believe it.
Maybe Eddie could tell it had been a while since you’d had sex, because you were already whimpering into his shoulder like you did when you were close. But you could tell he was in the same boat.
The last time you’d had sex with anybody was a year ago in the very same spot on the last night of camp. You’d snuck away during the closing bonfire to feel each other one last time. That was the first time you’d let him fuck you without a condom.
When you collapsed onto Eddie’s chest, the setting sun was seeping through the damp and rotting wood of cabin 5, clinging to your sweaty skin.
“Campers will be here soon. We should probably set up for s’mores.” You said absentmindedly, tracing shapes onto his skin.
“Those slackers Brad and Cindy can do it. Let’s stay like this for a little longer.
Eventually you had to get up, the bustle of the rest of the counselors arriving meant soon the cabin would be occupied by campers, and you decidedly would not be reliving the incident where Tommy found your pair of Tuesday panties. He attached them to a stick and ran around the grounds screaming “Girl panties, girl panties!”
As the hours passed, more and more campers came tripping out of their cabins and onto the lawn where the girls huddled around each other trading scrunchies and talking about the boys they hoped to kiss that summer, and the boys played tag in the dark after seeing whose feet had grown the biggest.
The night sky blanketed the camp, and you relaxed into Eddie’s side, listening to the screeching and laughing of the campers.
“You remember our first kiss?” You asked him.
Eddie smiled and hummed deep in his throat.
“Mhm, right here in front of this very campfire.”
“We were what? 15?”
“Yeah, and everybody went down to the lake and we stayed back. Then you just laid one on me.”
“That is so not true!” You whined. “You so kissed me first, asshole!”
“I’m remembering it a little differently, sweetheart.”
Eddie had kissed you first. He was shaking and stumbling over his every word as he leaned in, bracing himself for you to shove him away from you. Really you were just as nervous, sweating because you thought you might’ve had marshmallow stuck in your braces.
Quiet settled over you again, and the sounds of the cicadas were back droning in your ears.
“I was thinking about moving into the city, you know. Getting my own place and all.”
“Really?” You asked, sitting up to face him.
Your face was bathed in orange light, and he swore he’d do anything for you.
He nodded.
“Dave said I could work at one of his shops in Indianapolis, like a transfer.”
“What about Wayne?”
You knew why Eddie was moving, and you wouldn’t be the reason he left his uncle.
Eddie just scoffed. “He’s got a new lady friend, Darlene. He’s plenty occupied.”
You smiled. “That could be nice, then.”
“I was also thinking about taking you on a date. Someplace without mosquitoes?”
“You going all soft on me, Munson?”
“Oh absolutely not, I’m still gonna bang your brains out after. Just thought we could go somewhere nicer than the mess hall beforehand.”
“What do you mean? Chef Agatha’s cooking is totally romantic.”
You leaned in closer to Eddie’s side, your chest and stomach warming at the idea of finally getting to be his.
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐇 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 "𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲" 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦?
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See my other Welcome Home work here!
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×A/N×
Hey!! Yes, I know, I have some few inbox that I should answer, and don't worry, I will, just let me do a quick post here- -w-
So I'm back with the promised WH headcanons! And I hope you will like them :D
(And yes, it has a short plot now. I did it. I wrote it. ✨
×❢ About my work ❢×
Fluff fluff, all is fluff! No pronouns used for the reader, but good boy/girl mentioned, even if it's expected, there's no smut. Although Howdy is a bit teasing, but it's not r rated so •-•
Fandom: Welcome Home horror project by Clown
Character(s): Wally Darling, Howdy Pillar, Barnaby B. Beagle, Frank Frankly, Eddie Dear, The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour
Ship(s): The Characters / The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour
Form: Headcanons
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𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: LoveGame by Lady Gaga
('cause that is next on my playlist •_•)
“Let's play a lovegame, play a lovegame
Do you want love or do you want fame?
Are you in the game?”
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(All illustration belongs to Clown!)
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Wally Darling
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It was quiet in his house, even Home didn't let out a single crack until this moment. There was just one problem. You haven't seen your dearest puppet oh so long ago. The plan was that you two will have a cuddle time together, but he was nowhere. 
You got up from the couch and carefully looked around in the house. You cautiously called out his name, but no one responded. 
You walked around in the house a little bit, hoping to find him. 
He had his own painting room where he could make his own fantasy alive with the brush. 
You walked closer carefully, not to scare him. Even so, he could actually clearly hear you sneaking up behind him, but he was more focused on the picture. 
You peaked through his shoulders to see what he was up to. 
Oh. My. Gosh. Your heart skipped a beat. He was painting a picture of you. How cute! Wally was a very talented artist and you were very amazed in this moment. He always did such a great job. 
"This looks so great, Wally! You are such a good boy!" you said quietly, while you gently placed your head on his shoulder. 
• it comes off to him like compliment
• and it's from you
• his sweetest neighbour
• of course, he is happy! ♡
• "Thank you, Neighbour!"
• he smiles at you happily, hoping that you like his work
• "Do you like it, Neighbour?" 
• omg ofc you like it! How could you not?! 
• He is so happy about the compliment and about that you're liking his work. 
• he just stares at you happily with open mouth, listening your cheerful voice while you commenting of him and his art
Eddie Dear 
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Eddie came home and you could tell, he was clearly exhausted. Poor boy, running back and forth all day, and do this job all alone, it must be tiring. 
He got down next to you, just quietly lied down on his back and put his head on your lap. 
"Hey." you said softly, curling his hair gently with your fingers. 
"Hey, love!" he looked at you with his tired eyes, but his lips still curled up into a kind smile. 
You were resting quietly in the warm room, just hearing each other's calm breathing was enough relaxing. 
"It must be hard for you to do this job all alone, Eddie." you said quietly, no to destroy this calm moment that you have been in for awhile. "You're such a good boy!" you chuckled. 
• he slowly opens his eyes, looks straight up at you
• look, idk if they can blush, but now he does it okay? 
• like his face is completely red
• he always gets so flushed when you complimenting him
• he's so flattered 
• and so damn cute ♡
• he's speechless, he can't think of what he could say
• so he just simply says
• "Oh... Erm... Thanks, (Y/N)!" 
• he will definitely give a kiss to your hands in return
• Your compliments mean too much for him ♡
(a.n: btw I love Edddie, he is such a sweetheart 🥺 ♡
He is definitely my favourite character beside Barnaby! ★) 
Barnaby. B. Beagle
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 He knew that work is tiring for you and you had a long day. He wanted to do something pleasant for you. He couldn't cook, it was too difficult for him and he didn't wanna blow up the kitchen with his tryings. So instead of cooking, he cleaned out. It was not as perfect like you would did it, but it was acceptable. He was already finished when you were standing in front of the red and blue colored door. It was easy to recognize it. It had similar colors as Barnaby and it was the biggest door in the neighbourhood. 
He opened the door with a happiest smile on his face. He was clearly missing you. He let you in and you immediately took a seat on the comfy couch. 
Just a few minutes after you had some chance to look around. The house wasn't perfectly clean, like you could still something in the conner, but it was enough to make you feel happy and greatful about Barnaby. 
"What a good boy!"
• omg i can imagine how his tail starts wagging
• I mean he's like a dog, but different, but still a dog, so what did you expect?
• he definitely loves it when you call him a good boy
• he just listens your soft and lovely voice while you caressing and rubbing his fluffy head
• he especially likes rubs behind his big ears
• will rest his head on your lap and just melt in and let you to pet and praise him
• probably will bite you carefully in an affection way
• or slobber on you occasionally
• he wants you to say it more times, so he'll try to make you proud as often as he can
• he absolutely loves it ♡
"Thank you, Barnaby!" 
Frank Frankly
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You wanted to see your partner's reaction too much to lose this idea. You leaned forward in the chair to get a better look at Frank, then you called him. 
"You are such a good boy, Frank!" 
• he looks up at you strangely and confused
• you can't help, but giggle a little bit cause the frustration
• "Well... Thank you, (Y/N)..." 
• then he goes back to his job
• probably he has to do something with those colorful bugs what are around him
• seems like he found a better company than you :") 
• you stood up and got over to him, tried not to hurt his garden and the bugs
• "But seriously, hon, I do think that you're doing an amazing job!" you said it softly as you hugged him from behind.
"Thank you, Darling." he smiles at you adorably
• he still adores you dw ♡
• but he definitely likes dear, hon, love or even darling more :D
• (btw I think it would make him uncomfortable- not sure, but I feel like- lol)
Howdy Pillar
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You rested your arm on the counter as Howdy checked your items. You watched his movements. Slowly tracing your eyes from his face down to his hands, paying attention to details as well.
"Y'know, you do so much work in this place, Howdy. Like a good boy." You added jokingly the last sentence, didn't think of it too much, though.
He stopped moving for and looked up on you. You look directly in his eyes, getting red of embarassment.
"I mean-" You looked away sheepishly. "Not like that, just... You're doing such a good job here, y'know? It must be hard to keep this place alright by yourself." you chuckled awkardly, trying to change the awkard mood that you accidently did.
Howdy was still looking at you, but he didn't seem nervous or weird out about this. He just stared at you and then suddenly his lips curled into a kind, but a teasing smile.
"Yeah, it is." he answered.
He already put in a bag the last item you have bought of him, then he gently gave the bag to you with his third hand.
"You wanna drink a quick Dark Roast with me? Or if you prefer it more, you can have orange juice, or tea." he leaned closer to you on the counter.
"Sure." you said.
He walked away from the counter as one of his hands started to lead you beside him.
He glanced at you with a smile and said
"You still have to pay, though. Don't think that I'll forgot."
• omg-
• i don't think he'll mind it y'know
• but he prefers call you a good pet/boy/girl
• he may get teasy about it
• beside that, he will treat it as a compliment (cause he really deserves it)
• call him often, he won't mind
• just please don't call him like that in public :>
• he's cool with it :D
323 notes · View notes
manicpixiefelix · 4 months
Text
head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 15.
Summary: Oliver's first night and the next morning at Saltburn, and you learn that not only does he know more about you and Felix than you'd assumed, but he knows even less about the social rules of a place like this than you'd imagined.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: suggestive themes, we finally get the basis of the consensual pervert/enabler dynamic between oliver/reader(/felix). its implications in this chapter but will probably get more explicit in future.
A/N: 4908 words. venetia catton is a menace to society and i am in lvoe with her. set up is being set up!! we're getting there, friends!!
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
You wish you hadn't looked out of the window. You wished you hadn't cracked open the door to step onto the balcony. You wished you hadn't waited up.
Dinner had ended hours ago, and Felix was well and truly asleep, but you'd left your smokes on his balcony and had taken a break from going over the guest lists for the upcoming events that Duncan had provided you with. It was something you did every year, it helped calm your anxiety around these formal events, to be well versed on all the patrons in attendance, making everyone feel as though their place at Saltburn mattered, if only for a night. There was most certainly some deep, psychological root of your crippling social anxiety and fear of faux par and failure, but that was almost certainly a problem to investigate in the future.
The lilac study had been functionally unused since before even Felix had been born, sitting idle and untouched but beautifully furnished directly across from his room, on the other side of the long gallery, with a beautiful view of the gardens. It became unofficially your study many years ago, though sometimes Felix would use it too if he had some kind of Summer project he had to attend to. But now it was yours, set up with a bulky computer for the occasional emails from your family business that you were becoming slowly more involved in. Mostly, however, you spent your time thoroughly poring over these dossiers of guest lists with attached relevant information, committing all of them to memory.
After spending most of the day high, you felt guilty enough to get a head start on the Summer that evening.
But just before midnight you'd needed a smoke.
Oliver and Venetia painted so pale in the moonlight, Oliver half dressed and clearly ready for bed, Venetia with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders that you knew she wouldn't have brought herself. It doesn't seem to be a particularly deep conversation, but you think you can see Venetia smiling, and a smile like that can never mean anything good. Surely she'd told Oliver some pretty lie about why she was out there, but her room was on the other side of the house.
Oliver is unconventionally wonderful, and she is, and forever will be, Venetia Catton.
He will fall for her tricks, and you're sure part of her, just like her brother, just like yourself, would fall for part of Oliver's unsuspecting charms.
Just like she said she had with Eddie.
No, this was deliberate, you were sure; Venetia was playing this dangerous game again.
Retiring back to your study, you make sure to keep the door ajar to hear of anyone coming through the gallery. Saltburn is a creature that groans when you tread in the wrong places; you, like Duncan, had long ago mastered the art of moving around the house in total silence. None of the Cattons had ever felt it a necessary skill to learn. Oliver hadn't even been here a day. His footsteps practically echoed like drum beats.
"Everything okay, Ollie?" You shoot for casual, voice loud enough that you know he'd hear it in the quiet ambiance of the night, but that it wouldn't disturb Felix. The footsteps stop. There's no tell-tale creak of his door. Then, he moves towards you.
"How'd you know it was me?" Oliver, at your door, is shirtless. Oh. Right. Of course he was. He had been in the garden only moments before.
"I saw you downstairs," you say, trying to regain your train of thought. It's the easiest for him to digest, and most of the truth. He hadn't seemed to like the thought of you knowing his prescription earlier, even though you were just embarrassed to admit you'd stolen his glasses for a few days back in the first few months of meeting him, throwing enough money at an optometrist that they'd figured out his prescription from his current glasses. Right now you didn't want to tell him that you had spent enough time here that you could distinguish the Cattons from their staff, and distinguish each of the Cattons by footstep alone, and that Oliver's was so blatantly different to everyone else's that it was easy to deduce it was him. No, you don't say any of that.
"Oh," Oliver says awkwardly, shivering a little. Despite the heat of the day, it had cooled off considerably, "I spotted Venetia down there, I thought she might have been sleepwalking."
"Was she?" You ask with an automatic little smile, not wanting to give away how much you knew this to be Venetia's game.
"Said she was looking at the moon."
A sight you knew was perfectly visible from her own room. But you bite your tongue on that.
"So no?" You let the smile ease to something less robotic, something knowing, and Oliver sheepishly shook his head. Settling back in your chair in the lamp light, you look him over. Had he always looked so... you remember how he'd looked in the moonlight of your room and you have to look away, lest you get yourself flustered.
"Are you alright?" Oliver speaks up, taking a step into the study, finally letting himself look around. "Thought you'd be in bed."
"I'm meant to be," you admitted, "but I was getting ahead of this year's Summer schedule," you gesture to the book, and Oliver finally comes and joins you. He leans down over your shoulder, squinting at the pages, your shoulder pressed to his hip. He squints a little longer. Ah, "you're welcome to have a good look at it tomorrow," you offered brightly, pointedly not saying when you're wearing contacts and actually able to see, but Oliver thankfully seems to take the hint, even if he's still clearly awkward about the reminder. His hand then comes to rest on your shoulder, looking down at you and the way you're glowing in the gold light.
A moment passes; there's something on his mind, but you'll never push. Eventually it always comes out. It doesn't take long this time at least.
"Felix brought someone else to Saltburn, didn't he? Before; not just you," Oliver says softly, eyebrows knitting together. Fucking Venetia, you thought ruefully. Some of it must show on your face, because Oliver's hand comes up from your shoulders, thumb against the faintest scowl that has wrinkled your brow.
"What did she tell you?"
"Nothing really," he says faintly; while his expression is no longer concerned, there's something about the way he's watching you, cataloguing every small moment and movement of your face, each looking in your eyes, everything about you and your reaction that makes you feel... studied. Catalogued. Seen. You don't flinch away, don't move, just let yourself react, and let Oliver watch all the while. Then, after a moment, his hand is moving again, holding your chin, thumb running so gently over the curve of your lips, "called me lucky is all," he mumbled, as if transfixed by your face, by the way you're allowing this moment to go on, "said you didn't even like the last one." His words dip with disdain as he recalls what Venetia had said; what a snitch she was, you found yourself thinking.
"You need to be careful, Ollie," you tell him faintly, warning on your lips as you found yourself biting your tongue on a past that you don't feel is yours to really speak on. It was true that you had never been best friends with Eddie, but you were still rather fond of him. Even if that fondness was born from Felix's. Even if you were glad to be rid of him. Even if he hadn't even made it down the driveway before you were sending emails and worming your way into the Oxford administration usernet.
"Careful of the cold-blooded Cattons?" He asks, voice surprisingly idle, as if bored by the warnings, unphased by them. Where had his earlier trepidation gotten to, you wonder, right as Oliver gently caresses your cheek, "or should I be careful of you?" There's something in his voice that you're sure you'd only heard when he was looking up from between your thighs.
When you open your eyes, you find yourself meeting his curious gaze. The lamp paints his cool skin gold. One conversation with Felix and his hesitancy is gone. It's like you picked up right where you'd left off with each other before Felix's jealousy had awoken. It's actually a little infuriating, bordering on embarrassing, how taken you are with Oliver's quiet confidence.
After a moment in which you struggle to find the right words, Oliver actually smiles at you. It's almost condescending, like he understands the effect he has on you in these moments.
"Don't be jealous, pet," he tells you. Immediate, flustered shock flashes across your face before you can even stop it. But he doesn't tease, doesn't draw out the moment, he simply lets you breathe in and adjust to the moment, to his use of the nickname.
Saltburn creaks, the tell-tale noise of the old house settling into its foundation; Oliver, unfamiliar with the way the Estate echoes it's own, predicable, discordant melody of a night, looks to the door with sudden nerves once more. Something about his momentary uncertainty of his surrounds reminds you to breathe, to settle yourself like the house you practically grew up in.
You give a tired smile like it's all merely a joke, closing the dossier on the table in front of you.
"You should go to bed, Ollie," you tell him, voice nothing but warm and gentle, "we both should." Oliver ducks his head obligingly, stepping back from your seat to give you space, but still waiting patiently for you.
Once the lamp clicks off and the two of you are drenched in darkness, Oliver's voice cuts through the darkness as the two of you make your way to the lighter, long gallery.
"It must be nice being away from Oxford, being somewhere you don't have to pretend."
"Pretend what?"
"You know, the thing that's going on with you and Felix, whatever you want to call it." He says it so casually that you respond without really thinking. After all, he had a point; it's one of the many reasons you loved Summers at Saltburn.
"I don't even know the right words for it," after a long moment to think, you admit sheepishly. Then, moving to the long gallery that's still dimly lit, you look to Oliver with mild confusion as you fully process his words, "you... know?" Oliver, shirtless and in his pyjama bottoms, leans casually against his doorframe with a coy little smile. "How much do you know?" His smile grows wider; even from here his eyes look like they're shining with amusement.
"I don't think that kind of talk's appropriate for polite company," he teases, and you can feel your heartbeat racing. Sure you weren't careful at university, but you thought you'd at least convinced everyone it was platonic. Somehow.
"What- Oliver what does that mean? What have you seen or heard or -?" You babbled, flustered beneath his knowing gaze that suddenly burned with desire.
"Don't you want to be wanted anymore?" Is all he offered, simply wishing you a good rest of your night, slipping into his room. You're left flustered and speechless and honestly getting a little hot and bothered trying to figure out exactly what he was implying, and what he had seen.
Back in your room, you flick on the lamp on your side of the bed, trying to remain as quiet as possible as to not disturb the already sleeping Felix as you undress yourself, searching for your pyjamas. You're so in your head thinking about the encounter you'd just had with Oliver, trying to understand all the implications he left unsaid, that you don't even hear Felix yawning and shifting in the bed, half woken by the light.
"Hot," he mumbles after a long, appreciative hum, wearing a wide smile that would have bordered on leering if you didn't know him better. Actually, it was leering, but if anyone was allowed to leer at you it would be half asleep Felix, "this is perfect," he muses, pulling back the blankets to make room for you on the bed next to him, "you can stay like this; come here, don't worry about the pyjamas, no-one cares about them -" and you're more than happy to tuck yourself up against him like this. Pyjamas were more a habit than anything else, and Felix draws shapes on your bare back as you're both falling asleep.
Yes, you think to yourself as you're drifting off, it is nice being away from Oxford, being somewhere you didn't have to pretend.
The next morning you decide to chalk Oliver's boldness and implications up to the late hour, and don't feel the need to mention it over breakfast. Or, well, not all of it.
"Is there something wrong with the toast, pet?" Pamela asks gently across the table, her big, doe eyes boring into you where you'd been glaring down at your plate for the past five minutes. Venetia and Farleigh have been talking quietly together on Felix's other side, clearly comparing notes on Oliver already. Looking up at her just as the other two go quiet, you try and reassure her that everything's fine, even if your face hasn't quite gotten the message.
"Come on, shouldn't you just be happy that -" Venetia starts, but you cut her off before she can say something demeaning about either yourself or Oliver, knowing her too well to trust her mouth at any time of day, even over breakfast with the whole family.
"I am happy Ollie's here, Ven," you told her flatly, leaning forward to level an unimpressed look at her around Felix, "less thrilled about you being weird and coquettish outside my window," even though your façade doesn't show it, you're pleased by the pleased little cackle Felix covers with a sip of his drink, "do they not have the moon on your side of the house?" You snipe, and Venetia immediately rolls her eyes.
"See, I told you," Farleigh clicked his tongue pointedly, refusing to look at you in this moment, "possessive."
"Existing in my own home doesn't make me weird," Venetia gives a mean, humourless smile back, "and talking to our houseguest after he approached me doesn't make me coquettish."
"It does when you're doing it in that little, damn teddy nightgown and talking shit about me!"
"Christ, Vee," Felix sighed with faint disappointment. While your ribbing could be construed as playful or even jealous, Venetia always took Felix's negativity to heart. Not that he'd ever been able to tell that; Venetia always did well to hide her hurt behind further, thorny barbs.
"I wasn't talking shit," she sighed, terribly exasperated all of a sudden, "I just told him you were like one of those angry, little purse dogs Paris Hilton carries around," Venetia said without a hint of apology or remorse, "which of course makes Felix Paris -" Felix tears his slice of toast in half and jams both halves into Venetia's cup of tea without warning, causing her to shriek with absolute indignation.
"Felix, please," Elspeth sighs from beside Pamela, who'd all but leapt from her seat with shock, watching as two of the staff suddenly swarmed the flustered young woman to start cleaning the spilled, soiled drink from the table.
"'Felix, please'?" You huff mockingly under your breath before your best mate even gets the chance to be indignant for himself, "Venetia, please," you correct haughtily, though you're quietly glad that Elspeth has chosen to pointedly ignore you. However Venetia herself casts her gaze to you and Felix, both of you wearing near identical, childish looks of irritation, to which she responds in kind. Venetia sticks her tongue out at you both.
Pamela just watches Venetia's poor teacup despairingly as it's whisked away. Elspeth sighs deeply, and asks if anyone had informed Oliver what time breakfast would be. It had slipped your mind, and judging by the look on Felix's face, it had slipped his as well.
By the time Oliver joins you all, the tense atmosphere had disappeared, easing to something light and bright as you and the Catton family looked forward to the day, and to helping Oliver get properly acquainted with the Estate. During the discussion, the planning, you make a mental note to find one of the many beautiful books on Saltburn and the intricacies of it's heritage for Oliver to have a look at if he wanted to. While the idea of researching one's holiday home may not sound like the greatest idea of fun to most people, getting familiar with the house your best friend always took for granted made you feel like you understood it better, made you feel like you knew what you were settling yourself amongst.
"Y/N, dear, is that copy of Percy Bysshe Shelley's poetry still amongst your collection?" Sir James brings up, his eyes bright and wide. The book in all it's aged glory is sitting on your shelf in Oliver's room at that moment.
Very suddenly you're hit with a rush of affection, and the memory of a sweet summer afternoon, of being captured by Love's Philosophy written so simply on those pages. Those summer afternoons turned into evenings and the maze became the kind of magical only you could seem to feel, but that Felix would always indulge you in. Oh. You had to bring Oliver along, see if he could feel it too.
"Yeah," you cleared your throat, giving Sir James a smile across the long dining table. He seems delighted, apparently having read Percy Shelley's biography not to long ago, and has since wanted to reacquaint himself with the poet's work. For a moment, Venetia lights up with genuine interest and intrigue; for as long as you'd known her, she'd shared her father's passion for history, both harbouring a peculiar fascination for the sordid private lives of prominent creative figures.
Several years ago, Venetia had gifted her father the biography of Howard Hughes for Christmas; the following year, Sir James had pulled enough strings to get them both in attendance as VIPs for The Aviator's world premiere, the film based on that very same book. Venetia says the best part was meeting and having drinks with Leo DiCaprio; the only photo that she got properly printed and framed from the premiere, the one of her and her father beaming, says she's lying. They still spend hours in the library together when James isn't working. Venetia almost seems to be relaxed in those moments, from what you'd observed.
Oliver is back to being his quiet, awkward self when he finally makes it to the table, all fidgeting and uncertain steps towards the only empty chair at the table. Venetia lights up a cigarette as a new teacup is placed in front of her, both she and Farleigh observing Oliver's every movement with anthropological curiosity. So, instead of looking at either of them, Oliver looks to you, giving an almost nervous smile as he sits gingerly.
The mood is almost cripplingly uncomfortable.
Oliver tries to order a full English breakfast; Duncan looks like he'd just called his mother a cunt to his face.
The second hand embarrassment at the failed formality makes you feel like you're seconds away from some kind of empathetic anxiety attack, so you jump to your feet as the rest of the family act like they really live in a reality where every other person knew every secret high society script they were born knowing. They recover, but not quick enough for Oliver to not be tense, nor for you to not have made your way to the breakfast table on the side.
"Breakfast is on the side, darling," Elspeth says with an almost forcibly bright air, but falters as you call out that you've got it.
"You don't need to do that -" Oliver mumbles awkwardly, but is cut off when Venetia starts actually barking at you with a wide, mean smile.
This time, Felix picked up one of the cooked tomato halves from his plate, squishing it in his hand over Venetia's new cup of tea, letting the pulpy remains splatter into her now second ruined drink that she couldn't cover fast enough.
"How would you like your eggs?" Duncan ignores the petty siblings as the poor service staff once more whisk away Venetia's teacup, much to her exasperation. Oliver looks to the butler nervously, wondering if this was a joke or a test, assuring him that he could get them himself, but it's Farleigh who cuts in, voice like ice.
"The eggs are made for you," he explains coldly, barely looking up from whatever he had been working from, but his gaze flicks from Oliver's nervous expression to you, over his shoulder, carrying a plate loaded with food and scowling at him and his tone. Finally, convinced that it wasn't a joke, Oliver awkwardly asks for fried eggs from Duncan, who complies, and simply seems glad that the interaction had ended. When you put the plate down in front of Oliver, he glances up at you, almost looking apologetic.
"You really didn't have to -"
"I know," you responded cheerfully, giving his shoulder a squeeze, "you can get yourself breakfast for the whole rest of Summer, but it's your first day."
"You're very kind, very good to me," Oliver looks up at you through his lashes, blue eyes shining, grateful, stumbling through his words, "you- you're very good." For just a moment there's a flash of something more deliberate in his eyes that the others don't seem to see, and he watches the way the praise hits you with intent.
"Oh my god," Venetia groans across the table, "it's like you want me to bark at you -"
"Venetia, I have more tomatoes," Felix warned without even looking at her, but pointing sharply to emphasise his words. You thanked him airily as you returned to your seat and he beamed at you while his sister called you both terribly childish. She did not appreciate being reminded that she was the one barking in the first place.
It's Felix who breaks the tension to tell Oliver about the earlier discussion about the Percy Shelley biography, but it's Venetia who brings up the story of the poet's doppelganger. As she regales them all with the story of the housekeeper seeing the image of Shelley waving at him out of the window before realising the poet was in Italy and he was on the third floor, she tells it as if it's simply some scandalous gossip. Felix Catton, in possession of something of a rabbit heart when it came to anything remotely spooky, begged his sister to stop, even going so far as to cover his ears, but she seemed to enjoy getting under his skin, blithely ending the story with the housekeeper drowning only hours after the event.
While Elspeth announces that the story gave her goosebumps, and you admit it did send a shiver down your spine, Farleigh blurts out, without looking up from his notebook -
"I heard he fucked his sister."
While Sir James clearly didn't appreciate the addition, it's surprisingly Oliver who finds his voice.
"I think that was Byron."
The certainty of the correction is enough to get Farleigh to actually look up from his work. That's not how this was meant to go, at least that's what you think is on Farleigh's mind. Very rarely was Farleigh corrected at Saltburn; either the Catton's weren't as well researched on whatever he was spouting nonsense about, or they simply didn't care, but the point is Farleigh wasn't corrected at Saltburn. Farleigh could get away with the little white lies he told for fun here. He certainly wasn't fact checked by a newcomer at breakfast with the whole family.
When Oliver looks away from Farleigh, across to you and Felix, he sees the near identical smug little smiles you're both giving him. Both of you look rather pleased, and you see him almost grow rather flustered across the table. At least until Duncan sets a plate of fried eggs down in front of him.
Oliver's face falls, fork prodding the warm, gooey yolks almost like he's cautious of them.
You're back to watching, to observing and cataloguing further information about your guest. Runny eggs make Oliver sick; he looks it too, or perhaps that's simply the discomfort that comes from knowing he'll have Duncan's intense presence looming over him to take away what he'd just so kindly brought. Skin prickling with discomfort and desire to help, despite knowing there was nothing you could do, you fidget and try to finish your own food.
"Think I might head down for a swim after this," you hadn't, but you needed to say something to break the silence. Venetia and Felix are both quick to jump on the idea with enthusiasm, and Farleigh reluctantly agrees, if only to not feel left out. Across from you all, Oliver's trying to make himself as small as possible as he works on the breakfast you'd brought him. Never assuming, always waiting for an invitation, even now - "you game, Ollie?" You grinned.
Of course he was.
All you could think about as you searched for your nice bathers was how different Oliver was from last night. Then, your mind wandered back to that conversation, to all he had said, all he had implied. Catching a glimpse of Felix, already ready in just his swim trunks, towel slung over his shoulder, leaning and looking so effortlessly gorgeous and tanned already in the doorframe, you think of Oliver's implications. Clearly he'd seen enough of the two of you in private to understand the extent of your actual relationship, and considering the shit you got away with in public, and how both you and Felix admittedly couldn't be too bothered with things like closing the blinds when you have other things on your mind, you've got something of an idea of what Oliver may have seen. No, it wasn't appropriate for polite company.
But he'd slept with you, had seen and possibly heard you with Felix, and clearly had a thing for Felix himself. Why was he holding back? Why was he continuing to tease you the way he had last night? What kind of game was he playing?
Fine, if Oliver wanted to be a tease, wanted to play games, you could more than match his energy.
One of the many skills you'd picked up from a life spent next to the effortlessly attractive Felix, was learning how to put in the effort to appear effortlessly attractive even in comparison, in any situation. Of course you were hot, that was a given, but there was an art to the way you moved and smiled and behaved and posed and focused attention on yourself like it was a science you'd absolutely perfected.
Which is how Oliver, the last to arrive to the little, wooden jetty by the lake, found you laying out, glittering and glistening with water as the droplets clung to you, had your flattering bathers clinging to you in just the right way. Feet hanging over the edge, you arch your back just enough to tilt your head back, to watch him approaching upside down. Hands appearing casual, but carefully placed, one rested on your hip and lower belly, while the other reached out to give him a wave, your smile wide and sharp.
The others greet him, and though his gaze momentarily flicks to them, it always returns to you. Your back arches higher as you laugh, almost lifting you up to sitting, but you lay flat when he's on the jetty, when he's standing over you with a curious look.
"Hello gorgeous Ollie," you say with a teasing grin, "was beginning to get worried we might have lost you in there," you tell him, at least trying to look like you were trying to keep your expression serious, "its a big house."
"Are you high again?" He asks, and your smile grows all wide and sharp and amused. You shake your head.
"Why?"
"No reason," he says after a beat. Again there's quiet, apart from Felix and Farleigh squabbling over something trivial back on the grass. Oliver examines you, unashamedly letting his gaze roam down your body, the way you've displayed yourself so almost casually.
"Everything alright, Ollie?" You ask after a moment, reaching out to gently touch the side of his knee, contact, reminding him all at once to get out of his head, that this was reality. But your voice drops low enough that the others wouldn't hear, hand coming away, breaking the contact as you level a Cheshire smile at him, "is there something you want?"
Already it's worth it, since you see the exact moment Oliver realises what you're playing at. There's a sharp intake of breath, but an appreciative look in his eyes that quickly flick down your body once more. Then, he turns away, face quickly turning red as you all but cackle with glee.
The game has begun.
If all Oliver Quick could bring himself to do was watch, you'd put on a fucking show.
202 notes · View notes
ghosttotheparty · 1 year
Text
eddie knows that steve’s house isn’t a home. that he doesn't really actually feel comfortable there, or safe. it makes eddie sad every time he's over, along with the lack of photos and art and personality that could make it a home. he still stays over fairly often, sleeps in steve's bed, makes coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, lounges on the sofa.
steve’s parents come back without warning one day and find eddie and steve kissing in the kitchen.
nothing scandalous or inappropriate or anything like that. they’re both smiling, leaning over their coffee cups to peck each other's lips, (and eddie thinks the harringtons have the worst timing in all of human existence, because this is the first time they’ve kissed today), but catherine claps her hand over her mouth like they walked in on them fucking on the dining table. steve barely reacts when they walk in. he just sips his coffee slowly.
walter tells him to leave. his voice is quiet and lethally calm, and steve does as he says. eddie follows.
steve moves in with eddie that day, into the apartment the government gave them after the trailer was destroyed. it’s small, only slightly bigger than the trailer was, with two bedrooms. steve stays overnight enough that he practically already lives there, but now eddie makes space in his drawers for steve’s clothes. it doesn’t take long for their clothes to combine.
steve is quiet for a while after moving in. he doesn’t say much, doesn’t really look into eddie’s or wayne’s eyes.
wayne comes close and hugs him when he starts to cry, murmuring that he’s home now, that everything was gonna be okay. steve falls asleep in his arms when he finally stops crying.
steve doesn’t say it, but eddie knows he feels like a burden. one more stomach to feed, one more load of laundry. even with the hush money, times are tough. especially when no one will hire eddie.
so eddie reminds him as often as he can that he’s home. that nothing he and wayne do for him are favours, or just them being nice. that they love him and want him safe and cared for. he wakes him up by pressing kisses across his face, and he watches sports games with him (and asks questions so he can actually follow along), and he remembers how he takes his coffee, and he tells him every chance he can that he loves him. even silently, squeezing his hand under tables in public.
he knows steve doesn’t really believe him. or at least, that it’s hard for steve to believe him. it wouldn’t be easy, not when his own parents never said the words, when they told him without a second thought to leave the house he grew up in. he knows that steve doesn’t quite feel at home in the apartment, that he feels like he doesn’t belong there.
even though eddie and wayne do everything they can to make him feel safe, to make him feel at home. wayne comes home one day with printed photographs that he got after talking to joyce. photos of steve with his friends, with eddie and robin and nancy and jonathan, with the kids. photos jonathan took of them during campaigns, during movie nights and parties at the harrington house. the photos go up on the walls in eddie and steve’s room.
(except one. it’s a photo of eddie and steve on the sofa in the wheeler basement, steve laying on eddie’s chest, looking up into his eyes, playing with the guitar pick on his chest, and eddie is smiling softly at him, his arm around his neck, his fingers in his hair. eddie doesn’t even remember what they were talking about, just that he felt warm and cosy and safe. the photo is on the fridge. it’s wayne’s favourite.)
it takes a while for steve to get comfortable at the apartment.
eddie gets to watch it happen. at first, steve sits stiffly on the sofa unless he’s with eddie. (he likes to lean into him.) but after a while he starts to pull his legs up onto the sofa as he watches games with wayne or movies with eddie, sitting cross-legged or pulling his knees to his chest. for a while he needs eddie’s help remembering where the dishes go in the kitchen, which cups go in which cabinet, which order wayne’s mugs go in on the shelves. but he eventually stops asking.
one day eddie comes home from band practice to find steve doing the dishes. he’s wearing one of wayne’s flannels.
he wears eddie’s clothes often enough. usually his t-shirts and sweaters when they haven’t done the laundry, but he’s never worn anything of wayne’s.
‘hey, baby.’
eddie is stuck in the doorway, the strap of his bag still between his fingers, and steve turns to look over his shoulder at him.
‘eds?’
‘hi,’ eddie says weakly, looking at him. the flannel is rolled up to his elbows, and when steve turns to look at him in concern, eddie sees that the flannel is hanging open to reveal one of eddie’s motörhead shirts.
‘hey,’ steve says, quickly shutting off the water and drying his hands before he comes over, holding eddie’s face as eddie’s eyes fill with tears. ‘did something happen? what’s wrong?’
‘no,’ eddie chokes, blinking tears out of his eyes and dropping his bag to the floor. steve wipes the tears away tenderly, kissing his lips softly. ‘i’m fine, stevie.’
‘why are you crying?’
‘’m just…’ he takes a sharp breath, reaching up to hold steve’s waist, pushing under the flannel and holding him tightly. ‘kinda like… overwhelmed? with how much i love you? and how— how happy i am?’
steve’s face softens.
‘baby,’ he breathes. eddie’s lip quivers. he slides his hands to grip the lapels of the flannel before he reaches to trace the scars around his neck. ‘i love you too.’
eddie pulls him into a hug, holding him tightly as he waits for his tears to stop. steve waits with him, playing with the ends of his curls, running a hand up and down his back. eddie is sniffling when he finally stops crying, and steve holds his face in his hands, wiping his cheeks and kissing him softly, over and over, until eddie is giggling, smelling the dish soap on his hands.
but eddie just starts crying again when steve says casually and easily and lightly, ‘do you know what time wayne is coming home?’
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unsolved-duvall · 1 year
Text
𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)
eddie munson x fem!reader
Eddie could always tell when you were feeling overtly desperate and needy for him. You had been clingy all day, never letting him stray too far from you, always ensuring you had a hand entwined with his ring-clad one, or touching him in some way.
When you has both finally collapsed into bed you had wasted no time pulling Eddie into and slotting your lips over his, kissing him so deeply and desperately that he couldn’t help the moan that fell from his lips. Your hands were all over him, your fingers lost in his hair and your hands running down his back and up to his neck to pull him closer to you.
Eddie was on top of you, his forearms on either side of your head holding him up, stopping his weight from collapsing on you. But you didn’t want that. You wanted to feel him, all of him. You wanted to feel every part of him against every part of you.
Truth be told it wasn’t sexual. You didn’t want him to fuck you, you just needed him. He always made you feel safe, calm, loved, wanted. You wanted your whole being to be surrounded and defined by Eddie.
Like a perfectly performed art Eddie had managed to take off your panties and his boxers almost entirely without pulling away from the kiss. He breathed in every whimper and moan you let out when he pushed inside of you, bottoming out and letting his forehead ready against yours whilst he caught his breath.
“Eddie, can you-” your raspy voice cut off, insecurity setting in at what you were about to ask for.
“What sweetheart? What do you need? Just tell me angel, I’ll do whatever you need.”
“Can you just- fuck, can we just stay like this? Please, I just need to feel you, need to be close to you.”
Eddie knew what you meant, even if you were struggling to say it. Because he always knew what you meant. He lowered himself so his chest was pressed against yours, you sighed out in relief and that was all the confirmation he needed that he was giving you what you wanted.
“I’ve got you baby, it’s okay.” Eddie placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before he dipped back down to connect your lips. You wasted no time kissing him back, letting the way you kissed him speak all of the words you couldn’t.
Eddie didn’t move inside you. Occasionally he rolled his hips, but he never pulled back from being completely inside you.
You kept him close to you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands holding the back of his neck, letting his curls fall between your fingers. You were chest to chest, skin sticking together and you could feel his heartbeat against your own, you were sure of it.
You whined when Eddie pulled away from kissing you, but he shushed with you such love and affection that you couldn’t help but love him even more. His lips connected to that sweet spot on your neck, kissing and biting and sucking and he would never get tired of the sounds he could pull from you when he touched you like this.
His hands were wrapped around your back keeping you pressed to him, but he had an idea.
“Sweetheart, can I move us?”
You only nodded whilst your heavy eyelids fell shut. You felt the momentum of Eddie flipping you over so you were lay on top of him.
“Is this okay, angel?” Eddie’s soft voice broke through the comfortable silence you had both created and you could only nod, letting out an incoherent mumble against his skin, pressing delicate kisses to his jaw and neck.
“Move down a little for me, baby- yeah, that’s it, huh? I got you, just go to sleep sweetheart.”
Your head was resting over his chest and you could hear his heart beating. You were the closest you could ever get to him and the feeling saved some part of you that you didn’t even know needed saving.
You pressed small kisses into his chest before you lay your head back down. Eddie kept you tight against him with his arms wrapped around your back. You knew he wouldn’t let go until you did. So you let yourself relax into him and trust that he would always be there to make you feel this loved.
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bleedingoptimism · 11 months
Text
Hello!!! I get writers block lol. I'm not sure if I can help but......
I always scroll through fan art and usually something pops out. Like seeing Eddie turn into a bat is always fun to play around with. Or Steve just carrying Eddie around as if he's not a grown man.
Anyways I wish you well!!! And hope you find something to get you back in the swing of things <3&lt;3<3
--ok so i got this ask, and i accidentally deleted it and lost who send it, im sooo sorry, it was so lovely too, i feel like an idiot! I hope you get to see this one, whoever you are.
Eddie, literally coming back from the dead had been a very pleasant surprise for everyone, especially for Dustin. Eddie coming back on the wrong side of the fight not so much, especially for Dustin.
It's only a few days later after they found out, they've seen Eddie a couple of times, standing behind Vecna, paler, bloodier, sharper.
He hadn't talked to them, no matter how much Dustin had screamed his name and he had actually swiped one of his clawed hands at Steve when he tried getting nearer.
There's been a lull in the fight, everyone going home to regroup, clean up, and rest for a bit, Steve just got home after leaving a very distressed Dustin with his mom. He didn't want to leave him, but he really needed to clean up and sleep, it had been days.
After a hot shower, he puts on some boxers and an old shirt and falls on his bed, only to spring back up because there's something under his sheets.
He quickly scrambles and grabs the sheets lifting them up and finding a... bat? There's a bat sleeping on his bed. It's not huge, but it's not one of the small ones he's used to seeing either. It's got a round snout and it's kind of fluffy looking, cute even.
Whispering a very heartfelt 'What the fuck' Steve grabs the towel he was drying his hair with and wraps the bat carefully in it. He should've thought about it beforehand though because he ends up holding a towel-wrap burrito of a bat in his arms like a baby and has no idea what to do with it.
He should've opened the window or grabbed a box or something, he's looking around the room for something to help him when the bat stirs and Steve looks at it and the bat's eyes, the very big, chocolate brown bat's eyes, open huge and he 'meeps' cutely before a cloud of black and red smoke explodes out of nowhere and suddenly the weight in Steve's arms becomes much heavier and bigger and when the cloud dissipates he sees he's not holding a cute bat anymore, oh no, he's holding an Eddie, a very naked Eddie in his arm bridal style.
And Eddie's big brown eyes look at him and fill with tears, "Steve!" he says and he wraps his arms around Steve's neck and holds him close, "I'm so sorry I swapped at you! I had to pretend! I couldn't let him suspect! Oh god! Dustin! The look on his face!"
Steve doesn't even hesitate to hold him closer, lets Eddie bury his face in his neck, and sushes him as Eddie breathes him in, slowly calming down,
"Shh, it's okay, you are here now. I got you, we'll figure it out, I got you..."
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aliea82 · 4 months
Text
Saw this
And then this would not leave my head!
Words:3807 cw:bullying, discrption of injury, injury care.
"I am not yours to protect"
Steve stands against the side of his car as he waits for the kids to emerge from School. It was their monthly Friday night treat, Steve would take them all out for dinner and then to see a movie.
Eddie had started to join them, making the ride less cramped as he would take Dustin, Mike and Lucas, while Steve had El, Max, Will and sometimes Erica if she didn’t have plans with her friends.
As the bell rang he watched the crowds of kids leave, slowly disappearing from the school grounds until Steve stood alone still, a frown on his face.
Just as he went to push away from the car El and Max appeared running towards him, worry on both their faces.
Moving towards them he caught them both by their shoulders as they started talking over each other.
‘Wow, wow, slow down, one at a time guys.’
They both stopped, and then with a silent look at each other Max started to talk.
‘Eddie, he...he was meant to meet Dustin before coming out and when he didn’t he got worried. You know how he’s been struggling since coming back.’
‘Yeah, I do.’ Eddie was quiet about the bullying, but Dustin wasn’t, keeping Steve in the know about how the jocks still had it out for Eddie despite his name being cleared.
‘Dustin found Eddie, but he won’t come out.’
‘Okay, show me.’
El grabbed Steve’s hand while Max led them both into the school.
Steve tried to keep his cool, kept telling himself things couldn’t be that bad, that he knew Eddie could stand up for himself, had seen it, but the way Max was, the worry clear as day on her face made it hard for him to keep calm.
‘They had been at him all day.’ El spoke quietly as they made their way towards the gym changing rooms.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The ex-basketball guys, they...they kept at him all day, in the hall, at breaks, during lunch, they didn’t stop.’
When they got to the changing rooms the girls stopped, staying outside while Steve went in finding the boys minus Dustin, by the lockers.
‘What’s going on?’
‘He won’t come out, Dustin is in there trying to talk to him, but he refuses to leave and he won’t tell us why.’ Lucas explains looking towards the shower blocks.
‘Okay,’ he grabbed his keys from his jacket giving them to Will. ‘Go wait for me by the car, take the girls as well.’
He didn’t expect an argument and was almost proud as they did as they were told, leaving him as he walked into the shower blocks.
The sound of water filled the area as well as Dustin’s voice talking gently.
Dustin was stood right at the end of the long hall of shower cubicles, talking through the curtain, but stopping as he saw Steve.
The worry on the kid’s face matched that of his friends, but there was more than worry etched on Dustin’s face, there was anger also, something Steve hadn’t really seen before.
‘Eddie, Steve’s here.’
There was a reply but Steve couldn’t make it out through the closed curtain and falling water.
Dustin walked towards him, his eyes sad and furious at the same time.
‘I don’t know what they did, he won’t tell me, and he refuses to open the curtain or come out.’
‘It’s okay, I’ll see what I can do. Go meet the others at the car.’
Dustin just nods leaving Steve without another word.
Making his way down to the last stall, Steve stands quietly for a moment listening to the sound of the water before reaching out to the curtain.
‘Eddie, can I come in?’
‘Please don’t.’
Steve hesitates, his fingers curling into themselves.
‘It’s just me, the kids have gone, they won’t see.’
He waited a moment before gently moving the curtain aside, his heart hammering against his chest, bracing himself for what could be on the other side.
The sound of the water increased as he pulled the curtain back, but he became deaf as he looked down at his friend, huddled against the cubicle wall, water falling over his already soaked hair and clothes, bare feet placed on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around his legs, his face buried against his knees.
All around him were words, spray-painted on the walls, horrible, hateful words, some bleeding down the walls, colouring the water going down the drain, but most stark and vivid.
Murderer
Freak
Fag
Killer
Fagot
Loser
Steve stared, anger building, he couldn’t believe after all these months, after it was proven beyond reasonable doubt that Eddie was innocent, that this was still happening.
How dare anyone treat him this way.
Eddie was kind, gentle, funny, a nerd and a geek at his very core, someone the kids looked up to and loved to hang out with.
He didn’t deserve this.
‘Jesus,’ Steve reached out, turning off the water, wincing as ice-cold water soaked his arm.
Then, without a care in the world, he knelt before Eddie, the knees of his jeans instantly soaking up the water.
‘Eddie, can I touch you?’
Consent was crucial to Eddie, ever since the upside down and then months of hospital treatment, Eddie hated to be touched unexpectedly, but if he knew it was coming he sought it out, loving the attention, the affection. Steve would find him curled up on the sofa with El or Dustin watching TV, the two kids having formed a bond with Eddie the others hadn’t. Dustin for obvious reasons, El because as far as Eddie was concerned she deserved all the love and affection he could give after learning her full story.
When it came to Steve however, as soon as Steve asked for permission, Eddie couldn’t seem to get enough of the attention Steve wished to give him.
They had spent hours snuggled up on Steve’s bed, listening to music, talking shit and falling asleep together. Steve would spend movie nights playing with Eddie’s hair as Eddie sat at his feet, with El and Max using his legs as pillows.
But Eddie needed to give consent, it was a known rule amongst the group, one they all stuck to because they had all seen the consequences of unexpected touch.
So Steve waited, watching carefully for Eddie to give him the okay, which came in the form of Eddie’s fingers reaching out towards Steve.
As soon as Steve touched him, a sob escaped Eddie’s throat, and Steve pulled Eddie towards him, uncaring as his clothes instantly soaked through.
Wrapping his arms around Eddie, he held him close as Eddie buried his face against Steve’s neck crying hard as he clutched at Steve’s jacket.
‘I’ve got you baby, it’s okay, I’m here.’
Steve didn’t register the name he gave Eddie, he just held his friend, giving him the comfort he needed, his hand on wet curls, his other arm holding him tightly while he pressed kisses into the wet skin at Eddie’s temple.
It took a while for Eddie to calm down, his cries slowly stopping, but he held Steve as though he was a lifeline and Steve wasn’t going to let him go first.
When Eddie finally pulled away slightly, Steve pulled back as well, but only enough to look at Eddie’s face.
What he saw was heartbreaking.
They had beaten him.
His right eye was swollen shut, he had bruising around his jaw and his lip was split, blood oozing slowly from it. He was wearing a black tank top and Steve noted the bruising on his arms and the split skin on his knuckles, something he hadn’t registered before now.
‘Who?’
Steve demanded without thought, his anger overwhelming and clear in his voice causing Eddie to shrink back slightly.
Steve instantly berated himself, his face softening, his voice turning gentle.
‘I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you, I...’ he paused, stopping himself from needing to know who had done this. Eddie didn’t need to be answering questions right now, right now he needed to be taken care of.
‘Can you stand?’
Eddie looks at him with his one good eye for a moment before nodding. Steve helps him, then stops, taking him in once again.
‘Can you tell me where hurts the most.’ He was worried about possible broken ribs, even bruised ribs, he was also worried about his still-healing scars.
‘My face, they...they stayed away from my sides.’
With this knowledge, Steve assessed him again and could see what happened.
They had jumped him, he had fought back, getting in a few good punches before being caught, his arms held, before being punched several times in the face.
It was common knowledge about Eddie’s injuries, blasted all over the papers, deemed necessary to prove his innocence, that he too had almost died. Who ever had done this didn’t want to kill him, and so stayed away from his injuries, not wanting to cause what could be deadly damage.
‘Okay, let’s get you some dry clothes...where are your shoes?’
Eddie shrugged letting Steve lead him towards the lockers.
‘Did they take them?’
‘Yeah, and my rings, and ch...chain.’
Steve reined in his anger, he had to keep calm.
Together they got Eddie into dry clothes, consisting of school logoed sweatpants and hoodie, something he was sure Eddie had never worn in his whole school career. But they were warm and better than the freezing wet clothes he did have on.
They couldn’t find Eddie’s shoes anywhere so he ended up putting on a couple of pairs of socks on each foot just to warm them up.
‘Okay, so, what do you want me to do? The kids are waiting outside, you can’t drive. I can send Dustin and El in while I take the others home.’
‘I can drive.’
‘Not with your eye like that, and not without shoes.’
‘I can drive barefoot.’
‘I’m sure you can, but not today. So, Dustin and El?’
Eddie almost glares at him, or at least Steve thinks it is a glare, but with one eye swollen shut it didn’t have any intensity behind it.
‘Okay.’
‘Good, right, I won’t be long, okay?’
Eddie nods from the bench, his hands clenched together as he looks down.
Steve looks at him, before kneeling before him, his hands hovering over Eddie’s knees before Eddie nods again, and his hands fall onto his legs.
‘You’re safe now, I won’t let them hurt you, not ever again.’
‘You can’t promise that Steve.’
‘I can, and I will.’
‘What...You can’t protect me, not all the time.’
Steve sighs, his thumbs running gently over Eddie’s legs.
‘I need you to trust me.’
Eddie holds his eyes, searching them.
‘You don’t know who it was.’
‘I have a pretty good idea.’
‘You can’t do anything, I leave soon anyway, so why bother?’
‘I’m not going to let them get away with this Ed’s.’
‘I won’t tell you who did it.’
‘I already told you, I know who.’
‘What if you’re wrong?’
‘Am I?’
Eddie falls silent, his head lowering.
‘I don’t need saving, not this time.’
‘Eddie, ba-‘ he cuts himself off, knowing this time what he was about to say, ‘It’s not about saving you, it’s about making sure they understand that they can’t do this to people. What if this happened to one of the kids, to El?’
That was a low shot, El had been having problems when she first joined the school. The kids had rallied, Max and Mike especially, but it was Eddie who had put an end to it, stepping in when El had cried in his arms.
Steve knew Eddie would do anything for the kids, just like Steve would. But Eddie needed to understand that Steve wouldn’t let this go, that he would do anything to make sure he was safe.
‘Just...be quick, I want to go home.’
He stands, his hand going to the back of Eddie’s head as he leans in, his forehead pressing to Eddie.
‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’
He presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead before heading quickly to his car.
Eddie huddled in the back of the car, El playing softly with his hair while Dustin sat up front, his eyes watching the two in the back through the mirror.
Steve drove carefully, hands tight on the steering wheel.
‘He refuses to tell me who did it.’ Dustin says, his voice quiet.
‘It’s okay, I’ll sort it out.’
‘It has to been the ex team, they had been harassing him all day.’
‘Dustin, let it drop.’ He looks through the mirror, catching Eddie’s eye as he lent against El’s shoulder.
Dustin huffed, his arms crossing as he falls silent.
Steve knew he meant well, but the priority right now was Eddie, not the shit bags that had done this.
He dropped off the kids at Mike’s house, the kids gathering there for the night instead of going out.
Steve was pretty sure they would spend the night plotting.
He stopped El as Dustin went ahead, his hand gentle on her arm.
‘Don’t be stupid.’
She looks at him, her head tilting slightly. She knew what he meant, he didn’t want her to go looking, to lead the kids anywhere that could get them hurt. Monster hunters or not, at the end of the day they were still kids and humans were a whole different ball game.
She nods once, not saying a word before following Dustin into the house.
Getting back into the car, it’s to find Eddie up front, leaning his head back against the seat, eye’s closed.
‘Yours or mine?’
‘Yours, Wayne is working a double.’
‘Right.’
As they drive, Eddie stays quiet, his hands clenched, shaking ever so slightly.
Getting to the house, he goes to help Eddie out but the other brushes him off, heading to the house on his own.
Once inside Eddie disappears to the bathroom leaving Steve standing in the hall.
He waited a moment before heading to the phone and calling Robin.
‘Buckley house hold.’ It was her mum.
‘Hey Mrs Buckley, is Robin about?’
‘Hi Steve, yeah let me get her.’
Hearing her call Robin he waited, keeping his eyes on the stairs waiting for Eddie to return.
‘Hey babe, what’s up? Need help wrangling the kids?’
‘What happened with Eddie today?’
‘What?’
‘Eddie was cornered in the showers, he’s been...they...what did you see?’
‘Eddie said he had it under control, I...oh god, I should have called you. They had been at him all day, little things, but he seemed totally unfazed by it all. He was being himself and I just thought he was ignoring them. What did they do?’
‘It was the ex team right?’
‘Yeah, Andy led the charge, he’s been queen Bee since Jason... Steve, I honestly thought he was okay, I would have called if I thought it would go like this.’
‘Cover for me this weekend, I wont be in, let Keith know I’m sick or something.’
‘Sure, but Steve, promise you won’t do anything stupid.’
He was silent and he heard her sigh on the other end.
‘Look after him.’ She finally says.
‘I always do.’
He hung up and headed to the kitchen, putting the kettle on and setting up two mugs, one with coffee the other tea before grabbing the first aid kit from on top of the fridge and taking out what he needed.
Finishing up the drinks he set them on the kitchen island and sat down, waiting.
When Eddie came down he had changed into clothes of his own, as well as Steve’s own black knitted jumper, something Steve had gotten while Eddie was still in hospital, it had become their jumper, Eddie normally wearing it after Steve.
Steve found himself watching him, as he sat down, taking the mug of tea and holding it in his still trembling hands.
‘Can I check you over?’
There was a small nod, so he got up and gently reached out to Eddie taking his right hand and looking at the cuts and swelling.
‘Can you make a fist?’
The hand slowly curls into it self and Steve is satisfied nothing is broken, just bruised and sore. He did the same with the left hand before putting antiseptic cream on both and then wrapping them to help with the swelling.
He moved on his arms, gently rolling up the sleeves, the bruising obviously caused by being held, finger imprints all up his arms. He gently rubbed in ointment to help with bruising, apologising with every hiss Eddie made.
He quickly checked his sides, despite Eddie’s reassurance that they hadn’t touched him there, he just had to make sure.
Once happy he moved onto Eddie’s face, breaking a cold pack and instructing Eddie to hold it over his eye while he tended to the split lip and bruised jaw.
He then gently felt around the swollen eye, his fingers searching for the feeling of a broken eye socket, a feeling he knew well from the Russian encounter.
As he held Eddie’s face, he could feel Eddie watching him, his good eye never once leaving his face.
‘Don’t be stupid.’
Steve glanced at him, holding his gaze before going back to the damaged eye.
‘Nothing is broken, luckily, but you’re going to have a swollen eye for a while and a hell of a black eye when it settles.’
He got Eddie to place the ice pack back over his eye before gently checking through the still wet curls.
‘Back of my head. I fell, not sure how bad it is.’
Steve moved Eddie’s head down so it rested against his chest so he could search through wet strands, wincing himself as he found a deep gash and an egg sized lump.
‘Shit, okay, maybe I should have taken you to hospital. Why didn’t you tell me when I asked where you hurt?’
‘Cause you would have taken me to hospital.’
Sighing, Steve stayed quiet as he cleaned the wound as best he could, it had already stopped bleeding and the shower at the school had cleaned most of the blood from Eddie’s hair.
‘I’m going to have to keep an eye on you, you definitely will have concussion.’
‘If it means you can’t leave, I’m glad.’
Steve tensed, his hands stilling on Eddie’s head.
Eddie looked up, a smirk on his lips.
‘I’m not stupid, I knew you would leave and go off to be some stupid vigilantly hero the moment I fell asleep or something.’
‘They hurt you.’
‘I know, I was there.’
‘You should have called me.’
Eddie tilted his head, a habit he had picked up from El.
‘I’m not yours to protect.’
‘Yes ,you are.’
‘I’m not one of the kids Steve, hell I’m older than you, I can look after myself.’
Steve moved his hands to Eddie’s face as he tried to turn away, holding him in place.
‘I know you can, I’ve seen it, time and time again. But they obviously got the upper hand this time and I can’t...I can’t let that stand. I can’t let them get away with this.’
‘Again, I am not yours to protect.’
Suddenly his heart was racing, his eyes held Eddie’s as his fingers gently moved over damaged skin.
‘Yes, you are.’ He repeated, softer than the time before. ‘You...God. You have been mine for months.’
Eddie had gone still, his eye searching.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I fucking love you is what I mean, I have been in love with you for months, and this is the worst time to bloody confess it because I will not let our first kiss be when your face is busted up, and you have a damn concussion.’
Eddie slowly smiled.
‘You want to kiss me?’
‘More than you will ever know.’
Eddie lowered the ice pack from his face, placing it on the side so he could pull Steve closer, slotting him between his legs.
‘So all it took was for me to get the shit kicked out of me for you to confess?’
‘What? No! Bloody hell. I...I wanted to tell you, to make it special, to take you on a date. Robin has been helping me plan it all.’
‘So when was this all going to happen?’
‘After you graduated, I didn’t want to distract you, I wanted you to get your diploma, and I was going to tell you then.’
‘That’s months away.’
‘I know, I was being patient.’
‘What if I didn’t want to?’
Steve felt his world drop from under him, his hands dropping to his side.
‘You...you don’t want to?’
‘Steve, sweetheart, I meant, what if I didn’t want to wait.’
‘Oh...ohhh.’ Steve smiled, his hands moving back to rest on Eddie’s shoulders.
‘You want me too?’
‘Jesus Harrington, I’ve been flirting for months. I thought you were just being nice, but then you flirted back. You let me be me, always, I feel more at ease when you are around. So yeah, I want you too.’
They stare at each other, the need for more palpable between them.
‘I still wont kiss you.’
Eddie groaned, leaning his head against Steve’s chest.
‘So mean.’
‘I know, but we have waited this long, a few more days won’t hurt.’
‘Might hurt.’
‘It really wont.’
‘Promise you won’t go after them.’
‘Eddie-‘
‘No,’ he looked up, his eye wide. ‘Promise me.’
‘I can’t.’ He moves his hand back to Eddie’s face, ‘I can’t not do anything.’
‘They are all just a bunch of ex-jocks, sore because they lost their spot due to a stupid vendetta that got their leader killed. I’m not afraid of them.’
Steve thought back to the shower cubicle, to the words written around him, to him crying in his arms.
‘I can’t let them hurt you again.’
‘I promise to never let them get me alone again.’
‘No, because like me that’s not a promise you could keep. Please baby, please just trust me to sort this out.’
Eddie smiled, and it would have been bright if not for the split lip and swollen eye.
‘Baby huh?’
‘Yeah, and stop changing the subject.’
‘Fine, but you do it with Hopper with you.’
Steve sighed, his wings being clipped with those words.
‘Fine, okay, I’ll take Hopper.’
‘Good.’
They fall silent, just looking at each other, the tension high.
‘I really don’t know how we will last, I really want to kiss you right now.’
Steve moved his thumb to Eddie’s split lip, pressing slightly causing Eddie to wince and pull back.
‘Really?’
‘Fine, you win, we will wait.’
‘Good boy.’
‘Holy shit...okay, that will not stand, when I’m healed I’ll show you that I am definitely not a good boy.’
‘Looking forward to it.'
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Prompt: “You bought me flowers?”
A/N: I was on Facebook or something and I saw this little piece of art of a person taking a bath and their partner hang out with them in the bathroom while they do that. And I just thought it sounded like a cute moment to have with Eddie. So a bubble bath with Eddie!
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Candles. Epsom salt. Bubbles. A book. Music. You had everything you needed to have a nice long bath after such a long day. You had worked a double shift at your job as a server and you had gotten yelled at by a few unhappy customers, so you were exhausted. You were excited though that you had the next two days off and thought that you would kick off the relaxing weekend with a bubble bath.
You let out a hiss as you lowered yourself into the bathtub. Your sore muscles almost instantly relaxing against the heat of the water. Eddie always said he couldn’t take baths with you because of how hot you make the water every time, even though you both finally got a trailer with a big enough tub. Sometimes though, when one of you was feeling particularly needy, he would join after the water cooled a little. He would rub your back until you were practically puddy in his hands and he would almost fall asleep as you washed his hair. There were sweet, lazy kisses, and long talks about everything and nothing. More than once you had found yourselves waking up in each others arms in freezing water after having fallen asleep to the soft sounds of one of Eddies mixtapes as it played on a stereo that you would bring into the bathroom just for baths.
You settled into the water and started reading your book, some triller one of your friends suggested. You were so invested in the story that you hadn’t even heard Eddie come into the trailer until he knocked on the door, surprising you and causing you to let out a small shriek. “Are you okay, babe?” You heard him chuckle from the other side of the door.
“Yeah, come on in.” You said with a relieved laugh as you tried to calm your racing heart.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He smiled brightly at you as he walked into the room, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“You bought me flowers?” You asked with a surprised smile as he closed the door behind him and sat on the toilet next to you. He leaned forward and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.
“Ah, no. They didn’t have any with the colors you liked at the store, so I stopped by the side of the road on the way back here and picked some of the wildflowers for you.” He said as he brought them in front of you to smell before placing them gently on the counter next to him.
“You’re so sweet, pretty boy.” You gushed, Eddie had almost a shy smile on his face as you watched the color creep to his cheeks. Somehow, even after all these years together, calling him pretty boy still made him blush. You smirked at his reaction, loving that you could still act like those nervous 16 year olds who fell in love 5 years ago.
“It’s nothing. You said you had a rough day when you called on your lunch and I’m guessing it probably didn’t get better so I just wanted to make you smile, beautiful.” He said, it was now his turn to watch you flush at his words.
“You always know how to, Eds.” You beamed up at him.
The two of you shared a soft look with love-sick smiles before, “Mind if I jump in there with you, sweet thing?” Eddie questioned, not wanting to push if you didn’t want his company.
“Of course, honey. It’s still hot though.” You warned gently, giggling slightly at the way he jumped up and hurriedly started pulling off his clothes.
“Don’t care. I just want to hold you.” He said, smiling when you giggled again as he kicked off his boxers. You placed your book on the toilet seat before making room for him as he sunk down into the tub behind you. He slotted you between his legs as he pulled you back into his chest to hold you closely to his body. You heard him breathe in your scent deeply before an almost dreamy sigh escaped him.
“You sound like you had a rough day yourself, sweetheart.” You pressed as you placed your hands on his arms as they held you to him, rubbing them back and forth in a soothing way.
“I did, customers were assholes today. Like hey, I’m fixing your fucking car, you could be nice at least.” He scoffed before burying his face into your neck. “But it’s better now that I’m with you.” He mumbled against your skin.
“Well, at least we have the next 2 days off, I say we stay in bed until noon tomorrow.” You suggested, you heard him hum in approval as he started leaving light kisses on your shoulder. “I love you, pretty boy.” You said after a few moments of comfortable silence.
You felt him smile into your skin as he kissed his way up from your shoulder to your ear. “I love you too, baby. To Pluto and back.” He said softly against it. It sent pleasant shivers down your spine and goosebumps to raise on your skin.
“Isn’t it to the moon and back?” You asked as you turned in the tub to face him, still in his arms.
“Usually, for other people. But I love you more than all them. All the way to Pluto and back.” He said with a cheeky smile, putting emphasis on the ‘and’.
You beamed up at him, ‘To Pluto and back.” You agreed, biting your lip lightly as you looked from his gorgeous, big brown eyes to his plush lips and back.
“Come here, gorgeous.” He said quietly, pulling you close to him as you leaned up. You captured his lips in a tender kiss as you both, somehow, fell even more for each other, neither of you knowing that was even possible.
Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mayahawkewife
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In the Woods
(Eddie Munson x Reader) (18+)
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Summary: this was supposed to be from a longer fic that’s been brewing in the pot for a long while, but I got that worm in my brain that doesn’t let me finish things, and I haven’t posted in forever so you guys can have the porn scenes. if I ever finish it u can have the full fic as a treat <3
Word Count: 3.4k
Content: swearing, sexual content, protected sex, p in v sex, outdoors sex, slight edging
A/N: (this takes place at skull rock, also there are some things that reference the plot of the fic or moments within the full fic, ignore those <3)
Minors DNI please !!!
*~*~*
“So, did you do anything with your art, back in the city?” he asked, pondering if she was planning to be some snooty big-shot in an art gallery, or if she was aiming to be the next Van Gogh or Monet. He couldn’t help but picture the scene of her, scantily clad in nothing but an oversized button-up shirt, paint all over her but so focused on her work that she didn’t even care, the sun beaming through her studio space. God, she was so hot.
“Yeah, actually, I was training as a tattoo apprentice after school back in the city before I needed my, uh... little break,” she answered, flipping open her sketchbook to the first empty page she could find. She grabbed one of her sharpened number two pencils and placed the tip of it to the paper, beginning a doodle unrelated to their plans of DnD-related art.
“A tattoo artist, huh? I’ve actually got some tatties of my own,” he said, hoping that she’d ask to see them.
She waited a moment, the silence stilling the air between them. After a pause so long that he feared he had dismantled their conversational flow, she finally looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Well, are you gonna show me them?”
“Oh, r-right,” he stammered, immediately pulling himself from his spot against the boulder and shedding his layers of his denim vest and leather jacket, revealing tatted forearms. He stepped away from the boulder, closer to her, and held his arms out for her to see his sweet ol’ tatties.
She took one of his forearms in her hands, one hand holding his wrist and one hand propping his arm underneath, and he hoped that she didn’t notice the immediate goosebumps that raised on his skin. She did notice, but chose to say nothing, basking in the idea that she could set off his nerves like that. She slowly rotated his arm, studying the bats decorating his pale skin. “That’s so sick,” she said, looking all the way up at him from the forest floor.
In this moment, he realized she was face-level to his crotch, and sitting in front of it too. He tried not to picture her with her mouth on him, so that he wouldn’t pop a boner right in front of her face. Flustered and breathless, he airily chuckled, stepping back and saying, “Y-yeah, I really like that one.”
She gave him a look that asked, You okay? before asking aloud, “You got any others that you’re hiding from me?”
Remembering the one on his chest, he pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing a hint of the one that rested below the right side of his collarbone. “This one, too.”
“I can’t see it from over there, dummy,” she giggled, climbing to her feet with a small grunt.
She approached him, eyes fixated on the hint of a tattoo. Taking the reins, she pulled his collar down further, brushing her fingers against his. His breath hitched as he felt her fingers against his hot skin, feeling like his heart was audibly pounding out of his chest. She seemed so calm and collected, using her other finger to softly trace over the inked skin on his chest, the contact making him suck in a breath through his teeth.
The tension in the air was thick like a fog, and she felt like every cell in her body was being drawn to him in a magnetic pull. She felt her own breathing speed up in their proximity, and she looked away from his chest tattoo and into his eyes to find he had been staring hard at her with blown pupils and flushed cheeks. She released the collar of his shirt, not moving her hand from its spot on his chest, not saying a word or breaking eye contact. The air around them felt electric, like lightning was about to strike them both down right here, right now.
She parted her lips to say something, anything, but no words came to mind. All she could focus on was the buzzing in her core and the heat in her face. He glanced down at her parted lips, letting his imagination roam wildly with fantasies of those lips on his, those lips all over him, and his lips all over her. She noticed this, subtly gripping his shirt in her hand. Deciding that she couldn’t take any more of this tension that choked her like a warm hand wrapped around her throat, she yanked, aggressively pulling him into her and smashed her mouth against his.
His hands flew to her face instantly, cupping her cheeks strongly as she sucked on his bottom lip, running her tongue across it gently as an inquiry. He invited her in, and they did the dance of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. She reveled in his taste and smell, the cigarettes and the hint of weed from a while ago, and the sound of his labored breathing from his nose against her face. She even liked the way his large nose pushed into her cheek, and she let her arms wrap around his neck in a tight embrace.
He stroked her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hands to her waist, pushing softly and leading her backwards until she felt herself bump up against a large surface, making her gasp against his lips. She let him pin her to the boulder, pulling him in closer and pressing her chest into his. When his abdomen pressed into hers, she could feel him already hard, making her whimper softly into his mouth. He took it as an opportunity to go farther, nestling his thigh in between her legs and resting his knee against the boulder, feeling the absolute heat radiating from her.
Her fingers dug into his hair, accidentally scratching at his scalp and eliciting a groan from him, which ignited her core like a fire. Without realizing it, she had let herself drop onto his thigh, pressing the seam of her jeans up against her clothed heat and rubbing against her covered clit. He felt her slight grind against his leg, letting himself grind his own arousal against her. He lowered one of his hands from her waist to her inner thigh, stroking it with his thumb and eliciting a full-on moan out of her with how close he was to touching her where she needed him most.
Upon hearing herself moan like that, she pulled back, panting. “Wait,” she breathed out, “we’re just friends… we shouldn’t—”
“This is what friends do, right? They help each other out?” he asked lowly, dipping his head to skim his lips against her neck in a ghost of a kiss in an attempt to tease her into wanting more. And, boy, did it work. He could see the goosebumps appearing all over her body.
She shivered before she responded with a meek, “Y-yeah, friends can do this...” He noticed the way her thighs clenched together against his thigh, and stroked her thigh again, even closer to her core that was now damp and getting damper by the second, making her suck in a quick breath through her teeth.
“Just friends,” he agreed, finally placing his lips against her skin and nipping at her neck. She was like putty in his big, warm hands, leaning into his touch and digging her fingers further into his hair, which made him smile against her skin. She could feel the outline of his lips moving against the warmth of her neck as he murmured, “Ugh, I’ve been wanting to touch you like this so bad, ever since I fucking laid eyes on you in the school parking lot.”
“M-me too,” she stammered, pulling him impossibly closer to where he just had to nestle entirely between her thighs. His hands climbed further down, sweeping underneath the curve of her ass to lift her, and she willingly obliged, letting herself be lifted and pressed against the boulder with her legs wrapped around his waist tightly. “I even asked Dustin who the hottie in the jacket was,” she whispered in admittance, and he bit down hard on her neck, eliciting a shocked whimper out of her.
“God, you’re so fucking cute,” he groaned before deftly licking the purple skin where he had bit down on, making her release short, panting breaths and grip his hair harder. “And so fucking pretty.”
He pressed his hard, denim-clad crotch into her, the pressure against her driving her insane. He gently ground into her, one hand holding her up by the ass and the other hand dipping underneath her shirt to feel her hot skin. She mewled like a kitten, needing more friction, not even caring about the rough surface against her back. He broke from the kiss to look at her in her desperate state, seeing her pleading eyes and tousled hair. He smirked, leaning down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he whispered, “You want it, baby?”
“Please,” she whimpered, and he chuckled darkly.
“Already begging for it? Aw, how could I deny such a pretty girl what she wants,” he teased, pulling back and letting her down. She wobbled on weak legs, and he softly pushed her back to lean against the boulder so that he could undo her pants, kneeling down to slip off her shoes and slide her pants off, revealing her legs to the chilly open air, already acquiring goosebumps. Her breath hitched at his own desperation, although a more dominant and demanding desperation.
He gazed down at her underwear with absolute adoration in his eyes. “Jesus, even your panties are so fuckin’ pretty,” he whispered to himself, still kneeling before her. She couldn’t deny the wetness that had pooled in her underwear, feeling her excited walls clench around nothing. This was really happening.
He placed his large, hot hands on her upper thighs, his cool rings contrasting the heat of his hands. He gently spread her thighs, sweeping a hand underneath one to lift it over his shoulder, his eyes locked on the sopping wet patch in the crotch of her panties.
“Oh, fuck, baby,” was all he could say, swiping over he drenched, clothed slit with his thumb to gently rub her sensitive nub over the fabric. Her breathing quickened, and she almost dropped her body weight on him, making him tense up his strong arms to stay put in their position. He looked up at her, her pupils blown and her face red, before asking quietly, “May I?”
“Y-yes,” she breathed out, and that was all it took for him to pull the crotch of her panties to the side and slide two thick fingers through her slick folds.
“Jesus, you’re so wet,” he whispered, pulling his hand back to watch in awe as the slick covering his fingers stringed as he separated his fingers. She whined pitifully, hoping it would bring his touch back to her.
Instead, he stood up, leaving her legs trembling and her half-exposed heat dripping down her thigh. When she saw him begin to undo his own jeans, her eyes were glued to his bulge, the zipper coming down to reveal a large tent in his plaid boxers. Before she let herself get carried away, she pulled herself back to reality for long enough to ask, “You got a rubber?”
“Oh! Yes, I do,” he chirped, leaving his clothed erection hanging out of his black jeans while he reached in his back pocket to pull out his wallet, an old leathery thing, and pulled out a silver packet. “Bingo,” he said, holding it up.
“Did you plan this?” she asked, wondering why he had brought along a condom in the first place.
“Not this specifically,” he admitted with a smirk, “but I did put this in my wallet right after we met.”
“You cheeseball,” she teased, taking the condom wrapper out of his hands. “Can I put it on you?” she asked, gazing into his eyes to find a glimmer of adoration in his.
“Y-yeah,” he breathed, looking down and pulling himself out of his boxers.
She couldn’t help but ogle at it; it was long but also quite girthy. She would have called it impressive if she didn’t want to give him any more of an ego that he already had. She settled for mouthing the word, Wow.
Not wanting to waste anymore time, she ripped the edge of the wrapper off with her teeth, ignoring the smidge of package lubricant that touched her tongue. He stepped up close to her again, his length brushing against the belly of her shirt. Taking the rolled up rubber, she touched it to his tip, that already had a small bead of pre-cum leaking. He hissed at the contact as she rolled the condom down his length, gripping it and shimmying the latex down as far as it would go, her band brushing against the mound of dark brown hair at his base, which tickled her hand.
He watched her do this, his stare morphing from awestruck to almost predatory as he thought about all of the things he could do to her, anything to get her to make those beautiful noises for him again. As soon as the condom was on, he swooped her up once more, lifting her to pin her between the boulder and himself with the only barrier between them being the thin, soaked fabric of her underwear.
She wanted to kiss him again so bad, but she just couldn’t look away from his intense eye contact. She wrapped her arms lazily around his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair strands at the nape of his neck. His eyes bored into her soul as he reached down in between them, pulling her underwear to the side, and sliding himself up and down her wet slit, gathering her slick and bumping the sensitive nub that made her gasp and wrap her legs around him tighter. She tried to look down in between them, so that she could watch him, but his other hand grabbed her jaw, holding her face so that she had no choice to but to hold his stare.
His member prodded her dripping hole, and he leaned in to finally kiss her again, pressing into her and pushing himself in at the same time. The sensation of him ever so slowly stretching her out made her moan into his mouth, and she pulled him harder into the kiss, her hands buried at their rightful place in his hair.
Once he was buried to the hilt, she adjusted to his size, feeling herself relax around his member, and she broke their kiss to bury her face in his neck, his hair sticking to her face. She felt her walls clench down on him from his lack of movement and her need for just that. He leaned his head against hers, nuzzling her for a moment before whispering in her ear, “You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”
“Y-yes,” she stammered out, feeling her own hips stutter against his body at the thought of him pounding into her.
“Yes, what, baby?” Chills ran down her spine. She never pictured herself enjoying being dominated, but with Eddie, she wanted nothing more for him to do whatever he wanted with her.
“Please!” she squeaked out, whimpering against his neck.
And that was all it took for him to give her exactly what she wanted, what she craved so desperately. He thrusted into her, against the huge rock, at a leisurely pace, and the drag of his thick length continuously stretching her from the inside had her already quaking. She was a mess, whimpering and whining into the crook of his neck, feeling the pleasurable burn of her tightness being filled out so completely. “Eddie, that feels so good,” she whined.
When he began to pound harder, he pulled her head away from his neck and cradled the back of her head to keep it from banging against the solid rock behind her. He wanted to watch the pleasure in her face. He listened to her whines turn into moans, he watched her jaw go lax and her brows knit together.
“Fuck, baby, you look so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he groaned in between his own grunts, one hand behind her head and one digging into the side of her hip so hard that he was almost worried he’d leave a bruise.
He slid his hand down from her hip, down in between their bodies, down past her pretty panties, and landed on her sweet, throbbing cunt that was taking him in so well. She whined at the contact, thrusting her hips out for him, and he absolutely ate it up, using two fingers to rub soft, slow circles around her aching clit.
At this, her legs were tensing up, squeezing around his waist hard. To him, she sounded like an angel, moaning and whimpering so beautifully just for him. He let himself speed up his pace, slamming into her ferociously while keeping his fingers slow and steady.
Her whole body was shaking as she felt that string inside of her wind tightly, begging to snap, and Eddie knew. He could feel her tightening up around his cock, and he wanted to give her something she’d never forget.
He slowed down his thrusts into an agonizing pace, slowly sliding in and out with ease, his fingers taking their time on her overstimulated bundle of nerves, prolonging the build-up to her orgasm. She was downright trembling against him, and her eyes fluttered open to look at him, her eyes welling with hot tears of pleasure. She needed more, needed him faster and harder. All she could do was beg pitifully, whimpering strings of “please, please, please,” with her moans.
“Please?” he groaned, taking in the sight of her writhing before him. “Oh, baby… you don’t need to ask, you’re almost there,” he teased, adding his thumb to swipe up and down her drenched slit while he kept his fingers on her clit.
She let her hips chase the feeling, rutting up against him as the overstimulation from his the slow push and pull of his cock, the attention to her slit, and the touches around her clit gathered up inside of her, tightening up in her core until she felt like she was about to burst. She squeezed her eyes, her chin wobbling as she began to feel that white hot pleasure sear through her.
Just as she felt herself slowly begin to let go, he felt the first tight clench and smirked. He suddenly began pounding harder once more, feeling her walls flutter around him so tightly he thought it would project him out of her. Her moans were more like quick, high-pitched squeals as that string inside of her finally snapped and she came harder than she ever had in her life around Eddie’s cock.
He rode her through her orgasm, continuing her pleasure as he chased his own, listening to her incoherent babbling as she let her lips loose on his neck, mindlessly licking and sucking at it as she held him so tightly that her nails dug into the back of his neck. His grunts became his own soft moans as his hips stuttered into hers, and he came with a soft, “Oh, fuck, baby,” cooed in her ear, spilling himself into the condom but wishing he could just paint her insides with his seed. He dropped his head against hers and they stayed there like that for a good, long moment, basking in post-coital bliss.
Both panting and sweaty messes, he pulled back and she looked at him, a wide smile blossoming on her face. They both couldn’t help it, and they laughed hard at the irreversible choice they just made. She winced as he pulled out, and in consolation, he kissed her sweaty forehead.
He slid the condom off, tying the end of it into a knot like the world’s wimpiest water balloon, while she put her put her pants back on, swiping off the dirt it had gathered from sitting on the forest floor, and slipped her shoes back on.
She watched as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his jeans, filled condom still in hand. He took a second to look at it wonderingly, before suddenly turning to throw it as hard as he could up towards the huge boulder above them that was shaped like a skull. They both watched as it disappeared above the head of the boulder, not hearing it land on the other side, leaving them both to assume he had managed to throw it on top of the boulder, to sit there until somebody was bold enough to climb it and discover a nasty, used condom.
He released a content sigh, stretching his back backwards before joking, “So, ‘hottie with the jacket’, huh?”
“Shut up,” she retorted, slinking back down with shaky legs to sit on the ground. “So, you wanna talk art?”
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jesuisici33 · 8 months
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Some Sentences Sunday
tagged by @daffi-990 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @wikiangela and @rmd-writes <3<3 something from my vampire!buck au which finally has a title! i want my blood in your veins
Waking up he finds himself in a different, unfamiliar place. He’s not at home, hearing Christopher wake him up to get ready for school. He’s not waking up in one of the 118 bunkers, where someone is waking him up for a call or to come eat because Bobby made food for everyone. Instead he’s in a large bed staring at a blank, white wall with no idea how he got here.
What is the last thing he remembers?
Something about…small pretty ladies dressed up in princess dresses? And then being everywhere in the universe? Then the scariest thing of being confined to one place and being trapped. Somehow he managed to calm down, but he doesn’t know how. Then…he’s here.
He turns around to his other side and sees Buck. Oh, that jogs some more memories back into place. This is Buck’s apartment. His new apartment, which explains why it’s so bare. He thinks he recalls saying that to Buck when they got here last night. Was it last night? “Pictures! Big pictures! You need to just-” Spreading his arms he makes a whooshing sound showing Buck what he means. Buck gets it based on how huge his eyes are. They’re so pretty when they start to turn with hunger. The red slowly replacing the blue. “I’ll take you to get some good art.” Buck nodding along the whole time Eddie starts to think of ideas. Buck chiming in every now and then with some favorite art pieces of his own. 
Now, Buck opens his eyes and they’re completely red. Squinting at the morning light, he groans, pulling the covers up. “What happened?”
“I think we were drugged. At least, that’s what Athena said.” He looks around for his phone to see who took care of Chris while his high wore off. Sighing with relief to see it is still in his jeans, he finds it’s somehow miraculously on ten percent left. There are texts from Carla detailing how she took care of Chris for the night and that “his little LSD trip” isn’t mentioned to his son at all. 
He borrows Buck’s charger on the nightstand and turns back to the man himself still burrowed under the covers. “Hey.” When that doesn’t get Buck to come out, he tries again. “Are you okay? I don’t remember you eating more brownies than me.” 
“I’ll be fine. Are you good to go back home to Chris?” The reply is muffled, yet faint. His voice sounds almost pained. Eddie can’t think of any reason why Buck would sound-
Then he remembers – Buck has red eyes right now.
tagging @hippolotamus @911-on-abc @eddiebabygirldiaz @monsterrae1 @apothecarose @mammameesh @thewolvesof1998 @forthewolves @fortheloveofbuddie @wandering-night19 @liminalmemories21 @carlos-in-glasses @wildlife4life @disasterbuckdiaz @loserdiaz @theotherbuckley @your-catfish-friend @pirrusstuff @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @alrightbuckaroo @bonheur-cafe @callmenewbie
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renecdote · 1 year
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the tide comes (and goes and goes)
yes this is my third fic in two days. no I am not okay.
@nymika-arts this one is for you 💛
It’s almost funny that Eddie brought him to the beach today. To the ocean. He doesn’t know—can’t know, Buck hasn’t told anyone—but Buck feels unbearably seen by it anyway. He almost wishes Bobby was here too, so he could let his captain wrap an arm around his shoulders and say, “See? It didn’t take either of us.”
(That’s not true though, is it? It took them, it just didn’t keep them.)
Buck, Eddie, the beach, and conversations about okay.
For BTHB: hyperventilating
[Read on AO3]
The water is calm. Too calm for surfing, Buck thinks, not that he’d be allowed to do that anyway. He’s pretty sure surfing comes under the no strenuous activity rule. Swimming, too, so he’s not really sure why Eddie dragged him out to the beach this morning when all he can do is sit in the sand and watch the water creep closer.
“Relax,” Eddie tells him, reaching up to poke at his shoulder. He’s lying on his back, eyes closed behind his sunglasses, and Buck has been trying and failing not to look at the way his tank top has ridden up slightly over his stomach, or the glow of morning sunlight across his skin, or the way his swim trunks stretch over his thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination.
So no. He can’t just relax.
He’s telling himself that the Eddie of it all is the only reason why.
“Why are we here?” Buck asks, dragging a finger through the sand. He draws a heart, then another, then another, then sweeps them all away with a flick of his hand.
“It’s a nice day.” Eddie doesn’t shrug, but Buck hears it in his voice anyway. “Why not?”
Buck frowns down at the sand between his fingers. He wonders whether he’ll ever be able to say, “you know, I’m pretty sure you jinxed me that day when you said you hoped the lightning wouldn’t strike twice,” without the joke falling flat.
“Why didn’t we bring Chris?” he asks.
An eyebrow raised over Eddie’s sunglasses. “It’s a school day.”
“Yeah, but…”
This is starting to feel like an ambush. Buck glances over his shoulder, half expecting Bobby to come walking down the beach towards them. Maybe Maddie and Hen and Chimney as well. He’s barely had a moment alone in the ten days since he was released from the hospital, someone always at the loft, someone else always calling or texting to check in. It’s unnerving that his phone is so silent now. So unnerving that Buck has to pull it out of his pocket just to check that it’s still on (that it’s still real).
Out over of the water, a seagull swoops down to the surface and arcs back up with a fish gleaming in its beak.
“Relax,” Eddie says again, quieter, and his hand is flat against Buck’s back this time, the kind of steady pressure that makes him take an automatic breath and lean into the touch. Eddie smiles. “There we go. Will you lie down now? You’re blocking my sun.”
Buck huffs. “Well if I’m blocking you sun…”
He lies back on the towel, legs stretched out in the warm sand, so close that he can feel the heat of Eddie’s body next to his own. His turns his head, watching his best friend’s chest rise and fall as he breathes, imagining how easy it would be to reach out and feel it.
I didn’t dream about you, he thinks about saying. I dreamed about everyone else but I think I was too scared to dream about you.
He takes a slow breath and holds it, holds it, holds it. Lets it out in a gust. He hasn’t told anyone that he wakes up in the night sometimes, the memory of feeling like he couldn’t breathe so visceral he thinks his lungs have stopped working again. Maybe he should, that seems like the kind of thing Maddie would tell him a doctor needs to know, but if he talks about it, then he has to talk about all the other shit going on in his head as well.
It’s almost funny that Eddie brought him to the beach today. To the ocean. He doesn’t know—can’t know, Buck hasn’t told anyone—but Buck feels unbearably seen by it anyway. He almost wishes Bobby was here too, so he could let his captain wrap an arm around his shoulders and say, “See? It didn’t take either of us.”
(That’s not true though, is it? It took them, it just didn’t keep them.)
Buck props himself up on his elbows, watching the waves race up the sand, then just as quickly retreat back to sea. He doesn’t know what time high tide is, but it’s pretty high now, surely it can’t get much higher. He glances down the beach, both directions, a crooked line of seaweed and driftwood dark against the sand.
(“It’s called a wrack zone,” Monica told him long ago, Virginia Beach bathed in golden sunset around them. “It marks the high tide line, where all the seaweed and other crap from the ocean has been washed up.”
“Why is it called wrack?” Buck asked, tracing a finger down her spine, drawing shell patterns on her suntanned back.
She laughed, a surprised kind of sound, like she couldn’t figure out why he would ask. “I don’t know, Evan. It just is. Why is anything called anything?”
He went to the library the next day, looked it up in a book and came back with the answer, and he told himself it didn’t sting when Monica didn’t care.)
“You’re thinking.” Eddie’s voice cuts through his eddying thoughts, his eyes still closed. “Stop it.”
Buck flicks sand at him. “I’m not allowed to think?”
“No.” Eddie opens one eye to look up at him. “I know what you’re like.”
Buck isn’t sure why that makes his heart stutter the way it does. He almost presses a hand against his chest, just to check that it’s still working right, but stops himself at the last second.
“Did you know that seagulls mate for life?” he asks, the first thing that comes to him, because he’s pretty sure Eddie is going to ask him if he wants to talk about what’s bothering him if he doesn’t say something, and Buck really, really doesn’t want to talk about what’s bothering him.
“Yes,” Eddie answers, surprising him. “You shared all your seagull facts after that call with the hang glider a while ago. They also have excellent memory.”
Buck barely remembers that call, it must have been… two years ago? Three? He can’t believe Eddie remembers it so well.
“What else?” he asks, curious.
“They’re omnivores,” Eddie recounts. “They fly in erratic patterns to avoid predators. They drink both salt and fresh water. And they’re symbols of healing and tranquility.”
Buck rolls his eyes, slumping back down on the sand. “Yeah, okay, I get it. Healing and tranquility.”
Eddie’s teeth poke out of the corner of his smile. “You’re the one who asked.”
He did. And he kind of wants to ask Eddie to keep talking forever, his voice drowning out the sound of the waves, but Buck bites his tongue and holds the words inside. Asking Eddie to talk to him now feels too much like the start of a slope, steep and slippery, ending in a rocky why didn’t you talk to me while I was in the coma?
The sand under his back is lumpy, something hard under his right shoulder than might be a shell, or an ocean-smooth rock, or just the nub of stick buried in the sand. Buck shifts to get away from it and ends up closer to Eddie.
“Sorry,” he mutters, starting to move away, but Eddie’s fingers brushing against the back of his hand stops him.
“’S’okay,” he says, and when Buck settles back down, he doesn’t move away. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
Getting there.
Buck closes his eyes, and doesn’t reach out to hold Eddie’s hand properly, no matter how easy it would be to do.
He doesn’t mean to fall asleep.
Wakes with a start to Eddie shifting beside him, his heart suddenly pounding, his breath sticking in his chest.
“Sorry,” Eddie is saying, his shadow cast across Buck’s face. “Sorry, I was just—Buck?”
Buck swallows, and tries to breathe, and finds that he can’t do both those things at once. Should he be able to? He can’t remember. He can’t remember how his body is supposed to work. He shoves himself up to sitting and tries to suck in more air, but his lungs burn like they’re full of smoke, suffocating him from the inside out. There’s a part of him that always thought he’d die in a fire. That he’d die doing something reckless to save someone. It wasn’t supposed to be lightning. Wasn’t supposed to be a freak fucking accident.
“Hey,” softer, closer, Eddie’s hand on his shoulder, “you’re okay. We’re at the beach, remember? Can you breathe with me?”
He takes Buck’s hand and holds it against his own chest, skin and cotton both warmed from the sun, his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. Inhale, hold for one, for two, for three, and exhale. Inhale, and hold, and exhale, and hold.
They’ve done this before. It was Eddie, then, wild-eyed and gasping after a nightmare, his back pressed so far back against the wall that Buck had to crawl onto the bed, practically on top of him, to pull his hand away from clawing at his chest and press it against Buck’s own instead. He’d been terrified, then. Is something close to terrified now. But this time it’s not Eddie he’s afraid of losing, it’s himself.
He makes himself take a breath. And another. And another. He focuses on the movement of Eddie’s chest, the beat of his heart under Buck’s fingertips, the warmth of his fingers around Buck’s wrist.
“That’s it,” Eddie murmurs, and his voice is low and steady, but when Buck meets his eyes, there’s a wild edge to them that he wasn’t expecting. A blurriness that he thinks is his own tears for a moment, until he blinks and they run down his cheeks, and he finds the blurriness still there.
Buck takes another breath and it trembles, rippling through his chest, his legs, down his arms. A gull caws and he flinches. The sun flashes bright on the water. A lightning flash. Half a memory. Sea mist like rain on his face. Eddie squeezes his wrist, pulling him back before he can get lost in it.
His other hand is tight around his phone, Buck realises, three numbers typed out on the screen ready to hit call: 9-1-1.
He takes a deep breath.
Another.
“I’m okay,” he makes himself say. “Sorry, I’m—I’m okay.”
He has a sudden surge of memory:
What’s wrong with him? Why didn’t you call 9-1-1?
Because he wouldn’t let me, so I called you.
And he’d thought then—must have thought, because Chimney said—
Maybe he’s just having a panic attack.
“How do you feel?” Eddie asks, and Buck knows he doesn’t mean emotionally, although they’ll probably get to that later. He means it the same way he means it on calls: what are your symptoms? where is the pain? what do we need to treat?
Irritation licks up Buck’s spine. He’s so sick of being a patient. Sick of resting, sick of everyone being worried all the time, sick of not being fine. He tugs his hand free of Eddie’s grasp to scrub roughly at his face.
“My lungs are fine,” he says, and it comes out more shaky than sharp. “My heart is fine, my—my hands, and my knee, and everything else is all fine. You can stop looking at me like that now.”
“Like what?” Calm. Even. Always so in control.
“Like I’m going to fucking break,” Buck snaps, and the rush of anger steals his breath again, makes him cough, one hand pressed against his chest, the other held up to hold Eddie back.
It doesn’t matter. Eddie doesn’t reach for him this time. He doesn’t let go of his phone either, though, 911 one finger tap away.
“Fuck,” Buck manages, when he has caught his breath again. He squeezes his eyes shut, curls over his knees and grips his hair, like maybe he can hold himself together. Maybe all he needs to do is hold, and hold, and hold. He wishes desperately that Eddie would touch him and is absurdly grateful that he doesn’t.
Somewhere down the beach, a child shrieks. Another laughs. A parent calls for them to come out of the water and Buck feels a shot of adrenaline straight to his heart. It’s so sudden and visceral he thinks he’s going to be sick, the world tilting on it’s edge, reality spiralling away from him. He has to put a hand down in the sand, warm and almost-smooth and real real real against his skin, to try and steady himself. Fuck. Why the hell did he let Eddie bring him to a beach?
“Why don’t we get out of here?” Eddie says eventually. “I promised your sister I’d have you back for lunch.”
Lunch is still hours away, but Buck only thinks about fighting it for a second.
“Yeah,” he agrees, and he’s suddenly too tired to care how tired he sounds. “Okay.”
They’re silent as they pick up their towels, shaking the sand out before throwing them over their shoulders, the cooler bag Eddie brought hanging from one arm, beach umbrella tucked under the other, flip flops carried to the grassy edge of the beach before they put them on. Buck’s skin feels itchy, gritty from more than just sand, and the water from the makeshift shower at the edge of the carpark does little to rinse the feeling off.
“Your hands are shaking,” he realises when they’re sitting in Eddie’s truck, the engine on but the car still in park. He reaches out, but Eddie pulls his hands away, wraps his arms around his chest and tucks them under his armpits, out of reach.
Time stretches, the engine ticking, cold air blowing through the vents. Buck shivers, then shivers again, and when gritting his teeth doesn’t work, he gives in and reaches under his seat for the hoodie he abandoned here earlier. 
“I’m okay,” he tries again, fiddling with his cuffs, watching Eddie out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
Eddie opens his mouth, probably the start of an automatic denial, then closes it again, his jaw tight.
“You don’t have to apologise,” is what he finally says, and Buck hears you’re right, you did scare me. It leaves a strange, almost salty aftertaste in his mouth.
“Do you want me to drive?” he offers.
It gets Eddie to look at him. Whatever he sees makes him frown and he reaches for the fan dial to adjust the AC. Then he sighs, looking back at Buck while he slowly stops shivering, and the last thing Buck expects him to say is, “Maddie is going to kill me.”
“Maddie likes you,” he protests, even though he’s not sure what he’s really protesting. “Why would she kill you?”
Eddie gestures, up and down and then up again, as if to say look at you, you’re a mess. Buck glares, and hugs himself a little, and tells himself it’s not sulking.
“I knew you were conspiring,” he mutters, because this whole trip was definitely an ambush.
“We weren’t—” Eddie starts, and then he bites off with another sigh, frustrated this time. “How long have you been having panic attacks?”
Buck doesn’t say anything, taking his own turn looking out the window to avoid his best friend’s gaze.
“What happened to ‘you need to talk to me’?” Eddie pushes. “I’m pretty sure that goes both ways, Buck.”
“Because you’re so good at talking,” Buck shoots back, and he hates himself a little for the way that Eddie flinches.
He used to argue with Bobby like this too. Used to push them right to the edge, right to the cliff top of regret, and wait to see if Bobby would throw them both over it.
He waits now, braced against the free fall, adrenaline sharp at the back of his tongue.
“You died,” Eddie says abruptly, and it’s not the push Buck was expecting but it almost sends him into free fall anyway, the ground taken out from under him. “You were dead, Buck, for seven fucking minutes before we got your heartbeat back, and it almost killed me too. Is that what you want to hear?”
No.  The recoil presses Buck back into his seat. He’s got a hand against his chest before he realises it hurts, pain sharp and sudden, his heart screaming and his lungs seizing. There’s wind whistling in his ears. Everything has narrowed to dead and seven fucking minutes and the smell of ozone in his nose.
“Shit,” Eddie mutters, and then he’s unclipping his seatbelt and throwing open the car door.
Wait— Buck wants to say, another surge of panic sweeping through him, but then Eddie is circling the front of the truck and pulling open his door as well.
“You’re fine,” he says, stumbling through the words like he’s trying to reassure both of them. “Deep breaths, Buck, come on.”
Fingers around his wrist again, hand on Eddie’s chest. It turns Buck towards him, sitting sideways in the seat with one leg almost on the ground, Eddie pressed in close while he coaches him to breathe. Inhale, hold for one, for two, for three, and exhale. Easier this time, but that might just be because Buck’s lungs are too tired to keep up the panic. He feels greyed out and rubbery by the time his breathing is evening out, exhaustion rushing in where the panic drains away. He sags, forward instead of back, and Eddie catches him in a hug before he can slide right out of the car.
“I’ve got you,” he says, almost a whisper, the words muffled against Buck’s hair.
Buck lifts his arms just enough to wrap them around Eddie’s back and return the hug, and then he’s just—done. Can’t fight it anymore. Doesn’t even know what it is he’s supposed to be fighting. All he can do is hold on and hope that Eddie doesn’t let go. He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until Eddie is pushing him gently back and wiping the tears away.
“I’m gonna take you home,” he says. And when Buck makes a half-formed sound of protest, he adds, “My place. I’ll tell Maddie you’re not up for lunch.”
“No,” Buck tries, and god, is that his voice?
“Sorry,” Eddie apologises, and Buck knows it means you can’t get out of telling your sister about this. Probably also I’ll be calling Bobby too.
He wants to fight it. Wants to insist that he’s fine—that he will be fine—but.
But.
Buck gives in. Lets himself be driven home—to Eddie’s house—and shuffled from front door to shower to couch. He’s starting to hurt, even though he doesn’t feel like he’s done anything that should make him hurt, but that’s pretty much situation normal these days. He doesn’t say anything about it, but Eddie knows him well so he doesn’t really have to.
“Here,” he offers, holding out Tylenol, then water. “Do you want tea?”
“I want coffee,” Buck grumbles, swallowing the painkillers. A headache is setting in and it shows no sign of letting go easily.
Eddie shakes his head, more fond than exasperated. “When the doctor clears you for coffee, I’ll be the first to buy you a cup. Is that no to tea?”
Buck shrugs, hunching down in his corner of the couch. “Tea is fine.”
He closes his eyes, then opens them again a moment later because Eddie hasn’t moved. He’s still perched on the coffee table, worrying at his lip while he watches Buck.
“What?” Buck asks, rubbing self-consciously at his birthmark
A slight head shake: nothing. Eddie stands up, takes half a step towards the kitchen, then turns back.
“We’re gonna be okay,” he says, and Buck feels the words in his chest, lodging somewhere around his heart. An affirmation. A promise. A fuck you to the universe and whatever it wants to throw at them next.
“Yeah,” he agrees, offering Eddie a smile. “‘We’re gonna be okay.”
And when he’s alone—when he’s lying back on the couch with the muted sound of the boiling kettle like a shell held up to his ear, the ocean rushing through him—Buck takes a deep breath—and another and another—and finds that he believes it. Not today, not tomorrow, but one day—whenever one day comes—they’re gonna be okay.
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karmic-vibes · 2 years
Text
If I Can Dream
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
8 - Oh Why Can’t My Dream Come True
art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr and lazyjunebug on twitter
cw: gender dysphoria, misuse of pronouns, use of deadname
Year: 1988
“They’re gonna freak out,” Eddie panicked.
“No they won’t,” Steve assured.
“They’re gonna call me a girl,” he hissed.
“And I’ll yell at them, then we’ll leave. You’re my boyfriend and soon-to-be husband, alright? I’m not gonna let them walk all over you.”
“If you say so.”
“Oh, hello boys. What brings you here?” he asked.
“Oh, hello boys. What brings you here?” he asked.
“Off to a good start,” Steve whispered. “Hi, dad. We, uh… we actually had some news we wanted to share with you guys.”
“Alright, what is it?”
“For starters, we’re getting married.”
“Oh, congratulations!” Pattie cheered, forcing the two of them into a hug.
“How, uh… how exactly does that work?” John asked.
“Well…” Steve looked to Eddie, seeking his approval before continuing. He gave him a nod and a reassuring rub on the back. “Since Eddie is still legally considered a female, we’re able to get married. When we go to change his last name, he’ll finally be changing his first one too.”
“About time,” John said.
“You’re telling me,” Eddie dryly chuckled.
“So what else?” Pattie asked.
“Hmm?” Steve hummed.
“You said ‘for starters’—what else is there?”
“Well…” They looked the each other, fear filling their eyes. “We’re, um… uh…”
“For Christ’s sake, we’re having a baby,” Eddie rushed out.
Pattie and John stood there catching flies. Their eyes bulged out of their head, not quite sure how to take the news.
“Okay, not everyone speak all at once, god,” Steve said.
“I… are you sure?” Pattie asked.
“Yeah, we’re sure.”
“Okay, but how sure?”
“I took an at home test and just got my blood work done. So… pretty sure…”
“Wow… John?”
His father didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed past the boys and made his way to the study. Pattie rolled her eyes and chased after her husband.
“Told you so,” Eddie said.
“Not the time, Munson. Mom, dad?” Steve called.
“What?” Pattie sighed.
“We just… we thought you guys would be happy. You know… grandkids, yay…”
“Steven, we put up with this whole charade you made us put on for your girlfriend–“
“Whoa–“
“I am not done speaking, Steven. You make us relearn a name, address her by some ridiculous new pronouns. We can accept the two of you getting married, since legally we can’t stop you. But having a child? No, absolutely not. You two as parents? Please. It’s an unfit household.”
“How, dad? Hmm? How are we unfit to be parents?”
“A child needs a mom and a dad. Not a dad and a fucking tranny.”
“Yeah, because a mom and a dad did me so fucking well. We’re done here. Let’s go.”
Steve grabbed onto Eddie’s wrist and practically dragged him out of the house. He opened Eddie’s door for him and shut it once he was fully in the car. Even when he was heated beyond belief, he always took the time to treat Eddie the way he deserved. Especially now that they had a child on the way, he always found a reason to calm himself down.
Without realizing, Steve was driving with his mind on autopilot. Despite not being scheduled to work that day, he found himself pulling into the Family Video lot. When it clicked, he blinked aimlessly a few times and profusely apologized to Eddie.
“No, no, it’s okay, honey. Let’s get a movie or something while we’re here and say hi to Robin.”
“Yeah, okay…”
“We don’t have to tell her yet if you don’t want.”
“No, no I do. Sorry, my parents put me in a bad mood.”
“I know, it’s okay.”
Steve got out, rushing over to get Eddie’s door for him. He helped him out and the two stood outside the door, trying to silently reassure each other before heading inside. As Eddie reached for the door, Steve grabbed his waist and pulled him in for a sweet kiss.
The two caught Robin’s eye as she was processing some returns. She raised a brow and leaned over the counter, waiting for the two to walk in. They mumbled something incoherent to each other before Steve opened the door for Eddie.
“Long time, no see, boys. How’re we doing today?”
“Good,” Eddie smiled. “How’re you, Rob?”
“I’m good,” she said, glancing over at Steve. “Are you hiding something from me, Harrington? You’re usually talking my ear off.”
“Can we talk in the back, Rob?”
“Sure… everything okay?”
“Yeah, just come on.”
The friends dipped into the cramped back room as Eddie wandered around looking for a movie for the night. Robin leaned against the door as Steve hopped onto the desk with a huff.
“What’s really going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“Something’s up. What’s going on?”
“Sorry, we just got back from my parents’ house.”
“Ah. Any reason you were there?”
“Do I need a reason to visit my parents?” Robin raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Yeah, okay, you got me there.” Steve buried his face in his hands. “Eddie’s pregnant…”
“Holy shit, what? How?”
“We weren’t careful and uh… yeah. He’s pregnant. Just about two months, now.”
“Wow… so, you’re gonna be a dad?”
“I know…”
“What the hell‽”
“I know!”
“Jesus… how does Eddie feel about the whole thing?”
“He’s nervous, understandably. I’m more nervous for his mental state, y’know?”
“Why?”
“Rob, he’s worked so hard getting where he is. He’s come out to me, to everyone we know, dealt with the backlash, went through the agony of top surgery, and now… after all that… he’s pregnant… it’s like two steps forward and three steps back. I feel terrible.”
“Steve, he loves you and I’m sure he’s happy to do this for you. If he weren’t, I’m sure he’d bring up the idea of getting rid of it. I think he’ll be okay.”
“I just worry.”
“And you have every right to worry! It just means you’re a good boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” he corrected.
“Jesus, Harrington, I don’t see you for a week and you come in here saying you’re gonna be a dad and a husband!”
“I know, crazy, huh?”
“Where does all the time go, Christ…”
“What do you mean?” Steve chuckled.
“Steve, three years ago, when we met at Scoops, you and Ed had only been dating for like six or seven months. Both unsure what you’d be doing with each of your futures. Now here you are, nearly college graduates, engaged, and future dads. It’s insane!”
“Yeah, I guess it is…”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Rob. That means a lot.”
“Of course, dingus. I’ll always be happy for you.”
“Thanks,” Steve chortled. “I should go check on the husband. Lord knows what he’s getting into.”
“Probably ruining all my hard work from this morning,” Robin teased.
“I wouldn’t put it past him.”
As if I’m cue, as the friends emerged from the back room, Eddie had tripped over one of the displays Robin had spent all morning setting up. She pinched the bridge of her nose, motioning for Steve to collect his man.
“Sorry,” Eddie started. “Pregnancy brain is already getting to me.”
“I figured. Congrats, by the way.”
“Thanks, Robin…” Eddie blushed as Steve helped him up. “Uh, Stevie, how do you feel about a horror movie?”
“Depends which one.”
“Nightmare on Elm?”
“Ed, we’ve watched that a million times.”
“Yeah, your point?”
“God, I hate you. Fine, we’ll rent it again, but I’m getting something too.”
“Fine by me. I’ll be right back,” he said, setting the tape down on the counter.
“Where’re you running off to?” Steve asked.
“If you must know, Steven, I feel like I’m about to puke my guts out. Happy?”
“Dear lord. Call me if you need anything.” Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he headed to the Staff Only bathroom.
“So, what’re you gonna make him sit through?” Robin asked.
“A birthing video. He wants horror, I’ll give him horror.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why not? We both need to be prepared.”
“If you say so.”
Later that night, after the boys had dinner and finished watching Nightmare on Elm Street, Steve surprised Eddie with the birthing video. At first, Eddie was reluctant to watch it, especially so soon, but he eventually caved and let Steve pop the tape in.
The tape started out as rather informational, going through the different stages of labor and what to expect in each. What neither of them were anticipating, was it cutting to a woman actually pushing a child out of her.
“Can result in a severe hemorrhage, which could lead to death in minutes,” the narrator droned.
Eddie and Steve sat back on the couch, clutching their thighs to their chests, mouths hanging open with eyes popped out of the skulls.
“Steven, why did you make me watch that‽”
“I don’t know!”
“Was that meant to be comforting‽”
“I don’t know!”
“Oh my god, a human is going to be coming out of me!” Eddie panicked. “This is all your fault, Harrington!”
“What is‽”
“First knocking me up, then showing me that video!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Ugh!” Eddie fell back on the couch, dragging a blanket with him. He cocooned himself in the couch’s throw, only allowing his eyes to pop out. “This kid better be worth it.”
“She will be.”
“I hate you, Harrington.”
“I know you do, Munson…” Steve sighed as he rubbed his fiancé’s back. “I know you do…”
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greetingsfromuranus · 2 months
Note
I love your art! Do you jave any tips ondrawing in the EENE artstyle?
Thank you!! The best advice I have is to study, study, and then study some more lol. Look at something, try to replicate it, trace over the original to see the underlying shapes, draw the shapes on your own page and replicate it like that, freehand it w/o reference, just see what works! i know it sounds like general advice, but the EENE style, especially once you get to later seasons,is very stylistically and technically complex! You're gonna have to see which aspects of it are intuitive to you, and which ones you'll have to sit down and make yourself learn. I primarily use Raven Molisee's art (lots of stuff on Deviantart and Poshmark more recently) since with his sketches you can see a lot of the underlying shapes and processes! But it would be a good idea to also check out stuff from the rest of the art department, such as Scott Underwood, Jim Miller, and Cory Toomey (you can find a list of em here: https://ed.fandom.com/wiki/The_Creators). Instagram account dawn_of_the_eds has a lot of good references!
You can also study screenshots of the show, especially if you're trying to replicate the colors/linework/movement/etc… I would recommend @ededdneddy-artrefs, as they have a nice tagging system for finding anything specific, but its also a good idea to just look at your favorite EENE clips on YouTube and go thru them frame-by-frame! It helps with understanding how the characters move, talk, express, etc… and you can really nail down the stuff you'd only get a vague idea of from watching the show at a normal speed.
For me, it took me months (minus some breaks) to get to where i am now with drawing the Eds. Someone more studious and hardworking could easily do it faster, but the point is, it takes practice! Practice combined with active, intentional learning! My progress with drawing the Eds has several phases marked by a sudden jump in skill (usually caused by me finally going out and studying some more art, and internalizing what i learned), followed by healthy stagnation, where i get comfortable with the new knowledge and just do the same stuff for a while. If you really wanna get good at drawing them, you can study much more than i do, or have shorter stagnation periods! It's ok to calm down and get comfortable with the characters, have some nice, easy, art making time, its important to not get too stressed or burnt out! But when you're feeling motivated, absolutely take advantage of that!
Some things to remember:
While the characters do have consistent design elements and basic underlying shapes, these are NOT hard rules. REMEMBER AND INTERNALIZE SQUASH N STRETCH! I've tried assigning hard rules to how I draw the eds, and it's VERY difficult. It's definitely important to write down/point out as many design quirks and reoccurring themes/shapes as possible, but just remember that the Ed Edd n Eddy style is extremely fluid and dynamic - and the guidelines you may have thought were 100% true can be shattered at any point. Basically: all rules are optional! Don't draw something because the "rules" say so, draw something because it looks good! Sometimes one rule looks good, sometimes something else looks better! I'll use the teeth as a visual example:
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(art in 1st image by Raven Molisee)
Sort of a continuation of the last point - Before EENE, I had a tendency (and still kinda do) to use more symbolic drawing process, the kind of design language you'd use for logos or graffiti, or the kind of style you see in shows like Dexter's lab or Total Drama Island or something - where you get good at drawing the same shapes/lines over and over. The EENE style, especially in later seasons, does not follow the same process as these sorts of styles. For example, I used to look at Edd and say "ok, His head is THESE TWO SHAPES!" And then there would be another, I'd say "okay, 3" and then another, and another and this will keep going on and on and on. Sometimes his ears are at the corners of whatever quadrilateral his head is (like in Molisse's art), sometimes theyre on an edge (like ive seen in Underwood's art), and sometimes you just can't see em! You have to accept that the characters are a lot of things at once, and different things at different times! Like Eddys head is usually a sort of bent pentagon - but is his mouth is enough he's more like a tin-can - but from a more top view he's almost a triangle - you can do this cycle forever.
you can think about it like this: the eds designs (especially their faces) are sort of a collection of features, and the shapes holding them together than be molded and distorted as you please!
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Remember that the eds often exist with 3D underlying shapes, not just flat ones! I would highly recommend studying 3d shapes in extreme perspectives specifically. Draw bent cylinders, twisted stretched out cubes, any sort of shape at the most extreme fish-eye perspective you can manage, just absolutely take advantage of them. Bend and distort and break those shapes, dig your foot into their backs and and pull at their corners like you're ripping the arms out of their sockets. Extreme visualization, I know, but Ed Edd n Eddy is a slapstick comedy - there is immense force and stretching and distortion present, you really have to get that energy into your art to replicate the style (even if I'm not great at it yet, it's something I know I must learn).
Specific tidbit that's important & I sometimes forget: The characters limbs can be as long as the pose calls for! They will be fine! If they're holding something above their head, their arms are going to stretch out much longer than normal and it's ok! You can always sacrifice the "accuracy" to the model to get a strong pose/silhouette. Though one thing I've noticed is that their clothes often don't stretch the same way their bodies do! If you stretch double D's arms out 3 yards, his sleeves are gonna be about the same length as always! Except for when it looks better to break this rule, of course :3 basically imagine their bodies are like stretchy rubber, while their clothes are not
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(note how his arms are stretched reeeal long in the gif, the look of the action holds higher priority than "correct" body proportions)
Apologies on my lack of notes on Ed specifically, I've drawn him good a total of One time and haven't been able to do it again lol.... Sometimes his head is an upside down triangle, but its bent in a way that i cant find a good pattern to remember it by... though sometimes his head is a square but the bottom stretches downward to become his neck. He's weird as hell, one day ill figure it out!
That's all my advice for now :3 If i think of any more i will add it!
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liesyousoldme · 4 months
Text
like you've known me | rated T | word count ~25k
a @steddiebang fic coming february 29
featuring art by sharkscouts and @vesperalhemlock
Summary:
When the only way to beat the Upside Down is to erase it (and the last three years) from time, Steve Harrington is transported right back to the Fall of his junior year. His biggest problem? Everyone who had died in the last three years fighting inter-dimensional evils has no memory of the events. Suddenly, Steve finds himself with Tommy and Carol at his side and sitting mere feet away from Robin in class, and she has no idea who he is except the douchebag with the good hair that Tammy Thompson has a crush on.
With a little help from Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Lucas, and El, Steve will learn to navigate his life, The Right Way, this time. Which friends he wants to keep, who he wants to spend his time with, and if he wants to take notes in class this time around. If that means sometimes he needs a little weed to take the edge of stress off? Well, it's a good thing he knows a good dealer.
As things finally fall into place and Steve begins to re-form the most important relationship in his life, he thinks anything strange is over. Then, Robin starts mentioning weird dreams about ice cream and torture, and Max Mayfield shows up from California with an angry step-brother and a lot of questions. Maybe those memories aren't erased, after all.
Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Eleven, Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins, Max Mayfield, Billy Hargrove Tags: Romance, Angst, Friends to Lovers, AU: Time Travel to Pre-Season 1, Post-Season 4, Impermanent Major Character Death, Fix-it, Falling In Love, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington-Centric, First Kiss, Drug Use (Marijuana), Steve Harrington VS Junior Year (Again)
Excerpt (cont. under the cut):
It had been a few weeks in the new timeline when Steve jumped at the sound of the phone ringing through the empty house. He frowned, setting down his fork and walking to the phone. It was Wednesday, Steve was sure of it, and Dustin’s calls always came on Thursdays, so who the hell would be calling?
“Hello?”
“Hi, Steve.” Nancy’s voice was soft and sweet and surprising.
“Oh. Uh, hey, Nance, what’s up?” He asked, heart suddenly starting to race – not because he had feelings for Nancy but because if Nancy was calling then something was wrong. Had something happened? Had their plan not –
“Listen, I don’t have too much time, Mom’s making dinner and I just finished up my homework, but I really wanted to call you,” Nancy said. She wouldn’t start out so calm if something was happening, right? So this was just a social call?
“Um. Why?” He asked, then winced. Since when did he forget how to have a conversation?
He could hear Nancy’s sigh through the phone. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you at school lately, and –“
“Okay, creep,” he joked, lips curling at the corners when Nancy laughed.
“Shut up, I just mean I’ve – Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And like I said, I’ve been watching you in the halls and stuff, and I know you’re eating lunch in the library because Tommy told everyone in the cafeteria one day –“
He what?
“- and I know the whole thing with Robin is hard for you but…”
“But what?” He prompted when she trailed off.
“But you’re moping, Steve. You’re moping all over school, and probably all over your house.”
“I – wha- I mean, that’s not true,” Steve said, frowning.
“Steve, we beat the bad guys and everybody is fine. Everybody’s alive! And you’re moping.”
“Okay, now this just feels like you’re being mean.”
“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m trying to – “ She cut herself off with a frustrated groan. “Do you even know how El is doing?”
“I – what? Is she okay?”
“Yes, she’s okay, Steve, but also, no, she’s not okay, because Hopper is still trying to find Owens since he’s the one that will probably know best if it’s safe for Jane Hopper to suddenly show up in Hawkins and enroll in school. So, she spends her days alone, but everyone always goes to visit her, every Saturday, at the cabin. Everyone except you.”
Steve felt tears prick behind his eyes. “I didn’t know.”
“Yes, you did,” Nancy said, sounding tired. “Dustin said he asked you to come that first weekend, and you said no, so he didn’t ask you again.”
“I don’t – I don’t remember that,” he admitted, feeling dreadful disappointment spread through his veins. “Nancy, I hardly – that first week was –“
“But it wasn’t just the first week, Steve. We’re all trying to get back to our lives but you’re just going through the motions. Even Dustin knows something’s wrong.”
“What? I talk to Dustin every week!”
“Lucas wanted to invite you to the park to play basketball and Dustin told him you probably still weren’t ready.”
Steve’s jaw dropped.
“Dustin knows you, in this timeline probably better than anyone, and he knows something’s wrong but he’s still just a kid, Steve, he doesn’t know how to deal with this.”
“Did Dustin ask you to call me?”
“No, this was my idea,” Nancy said. “I’m just a kid, too, Steve. I don’t know what to do to fix it but I want to help you, and so does Jonathan.”
“Jonathan wants to help me?” He asked, incredulous.
Nancy chuckled. “Honestly, I was as surprised as you are. But he does because despite everything, he cares about you. We all care about you, and it’s way too easy for you to hole up in your house and ignore everyone at school and… mope.”
“I don’t think I like that word anymore,” Steve said, even though it was true. His stomach twisted in knots at the sudden guilt he felt.
“Well I didn’t think you’d like it very much if I accused you of being depressed,” Nancy stated boldly, and Steve winced. “Just meet me and Jonathan at that picnic table outside of school tomorrow morning, okay? Like, twenty minutes before first bell. Can you do that?”
Steve swallowed thickly and fought every instinct in him that wanted to say no.
“Yeah, Nance. I can do that.”
Steve woke with a sense of dread hanging over him. He really didn’t want to show up just for Nancy and Jonathan to chew him out for how selfish he’d been (he could beat himself up for that without their help). But he got in his car twenty-five minutes earlier than he usually would, just to make sure he wouldn’t be late, and laughed to himself when he got to the school. He pulled into the empty spot next to Jonathan’s car. Apparently, they had the same idea.
Steve got out of his car and shouldered his backpack. He looked around; there were a few people milling about, and more cars pulling into the lot than he expected this early.
“Do people always get to school this early?” He asked by way of introduction.
Jonathan laughed and walked over to him. Nancy stepped up behind him and gave him a pointed look. “I think you’ll find that you’re just always late.”
“Yeah, okay,” he conceded. “So, uh… Picnic table?” He suggested, already feeling the stares of their classmates from around them.
Nancy and Jonathan agreed and they made the walk together, quietly taking in each other’s presence. Nancy was in between the two boys but it wasn’t as awkward as Steve expected it to be.
Maybe he really was over Nancy Wheeler, after all.
He choked on a laugh when the picnic table came into view, and they were sighted almost immediately.
“Oh,” Eddie Munson said, grabbing his metal lunchbox and dropping it near his feet. Steve snorted. Eddie huffed. “What?”
“As if we don’t know what’s in your damn lunchbox, Munson,” he said, finding himself immediately falling back into the banter he’d developed with Eddie before –
“I don’t really know what’s going on here,” Eddie admitted with an awkward, nervous laugh. “You three might be the weirdest combination of buyers I’ve ever gotten.”
“Oh, we’re not –“ Nancy started, but Steve interrupted.
“I am,” he said, ignoring the looks from Nancy and Jonathan. He pulled out his wallet and made eye contact with Eddie. “I’ll –“ He paused, unsure of what to say. He’d never done this himself before. “I’ll take some weed. Uh – a joint? Uh. How much?”
Eddie looked at him with a furrowed brow and a frown on his lips. “Are you wearing a wire?”
Steve snorted a laugh. “Dude. What kind of operation do you think is being run in Nowhere fucking Indiana where a 17-year-old is wearing a wire for a drug bust on your tiny fucking lunchkit –“
“Okay! Okay,” Eddie conceded with a barely concealed laugh. Jonathan was openly laughing behind him, and Steve recognized the amused look on Nancy’s face.
Steve sighed when Eddie just kept looking at him like he didn’t believe him. “I’m being serious. If I’m not gonna have a social life anymore at least let me be high for it.”
“Amen,” Jonathan said quietly, and Steve choked down his laugh.
Finally, after a few more moments of silence where Eddie stared at his face, seemingly deciding whether or not to trust him, Eddie sighed and picked up his lunchbox. Steve let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
“I’ll sell you a gram for twenty-five bucks. Do you want pre-rolled, or…” Eddie trailed off.
“Uh,” Steve said, unsure. “Yeah, that’ll probably be easier.”
Eddie opened his lunchbox and got to work rolling the joint. “Usually, it’s your friends I sell to,” he said conversationally.
“Not my friends,” Steve corrected, then awkwardly added, “I don’t have any of those.”
“We’re your friends, Steve,” Nancy said, and Steve could hear the pity that coated her voice.
“Didn’t you, like, dump him for him?” Eddie asked her, pointing first and Steve, then at Jonathan. Nancy huffed, took a breath to begin talking but Steve cut her off before she could begin.
"That's not what happened. Tommy and Carol told everyone that because they're pissed off that I don't wanna hang out with them anymore. Me and Nance are fine. Me and Jonathan are fine. Look. I know you're overcharging me so badly right now but I don't care enough to fight you on it. Can you please just sell me the weed?"
Eddie frowned. “Fifteen.”
Steve looked at him incredulously.
"What can I say? You guilt tripped me and I'm a sucker.” Eddie held out the joint. “Just. Take it."
"Thanks, Munson." Steve said, taking it and stuffing it in a zipper inside his backpack.
Eddie closed and shut his lunchbox, then stepped away from the table and gave a little bow. "King Steve."
"Just Steve."
Eddie looked at him through calculating eyes. "Just Steve, then."
The three of them waited until Eddie was far enough away before taking seats at the table.
Nancy started after a short awkward beat. "Look, start hanging out with us at school. I have mutual friends with Robin, somehow we'll get it through her head that you aren't a bad guy and then it's just a matter of winning her over again -"
"It really isn't like that; I’ve told you a million times, she's my best friend.” Steve said. “And I already just started fucking crying in front of her, I think the ship has sailed."
"Don’t say that, man," Jonathan said. "Just… give it time. Let the school get used to the new you. Maybe you can figure out if she's got a job and apply wherever she works and do whatever you did at Starcourt to make her like you."
Steve sighed. He already knew where Robin worked; she'd told him about the job she had before Scoops. "She's working at a hair salon as a receptionist right now."
"Sorry, they let Robin be in charge of answering phones and setting up appointments?" Nancy asked with an incredulous giggle.
"She doesn't last long," Steve admitted with a little laugh.
The bell rang, interrupting them and signaling the start of another day. Steve sighed to himself and stood, following Nancy and Jonathan into the school. At least he had somewhere to sit at lunch now.
And the chance to get high tonight.
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wednesdaymunson · 1 year
Text
Head Over Heels
Baby Daddy! Eddie x Fem!reader
Summary: Part 2 to my Baby Daddy! Eddie fic.Slight time jump. Eddie has half assed professed his love for you, but neither of you can bring it up. You're still seeing Keanu. Wayne makes an appearance and scolds Eddie. Eddie is a lil toxic at the end.
Warnings: smut,angst,unprotected sex, creampie, drunk sex(f), mention of oral sex(m receiving)..I think that's it.
A/n: I wrote and rewrote this several times. I'm kinda okay with this version. The ending is opened to the possibility of a third part, or you can make up with what happens in the end ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I Was Made For Lovin' You - part 1
Mine(Interlude)
Word Count: 4,609k
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It had been about a month since Eddie left that message. The both of you would always tiptoe around it. You were never direct when trying to ask, and Eddie would avoid it anyway he could. You were afraid to be forward, possibly hearing something you didn't want to know, but it was killing you not knowing 'Why now?'.
You've been on a few low-profile dates with Keanu. He didn't want to alert the paparazzi and drag you into the crazy spotlight. Even with Eddie's fame with Corroded Coffin, you were very much in the background, unnoticed. You weren't even thinking about that, you just wanted to live in the moment. Keanu made you feel seen and heard. He calmed your mind, you knew where you stood with him. 
You made it home just in time. Eddie was dropping off Evelyn at 9am and here it is 8:45. You change into your pjs, wash whatever makeup was left off your face, to turn around and see Eddie behind you. 
"For fuck sakes, Eddie! You scared this shit outta me!... how'd you get in?"
"Well, hello to you too! Look, your door wasn't shut all the way. I got nervous, so I came in preparing to bash some skulls or preparing for the worst.."
You could tell by his tone and his eyes that he was genuine. You hugged him before you even realized it. He tightly hugged you back, and you melted into him. 
"Wait.. where's Evelyn?!"
"Oh! I told her to stay in the car and if someone tried to get her, to hit them with the crowbar I keep in the car." He boldly stated. 
"Eddie, you left a 4 year old in the car with a crowbar? Please go get our daughter." You sigh. 
"On it, sweetheart."
You pinch at his side. 
"Y/N, don't start that." Eddie laughs. 
As soon as Eddie is out of sight, you shut the door and quietly break down. You haven't told Eddie about you seeing someone else. You've been pretty good at keeping it under wraps. You think to yourself, 'Keanu and I aren't exclusive. I'm allowed to date and do whatever, I'm single! Eddie doesn't have to know. I don't know what he does when he's away or when he's not here.'
You splash some water on your face, dry off, and compose yourself. You hear Evelyn knocking on your door. 
"Mommy, open the door! There's no bad guys! It's me, Evelyn Starchild Munson!"
You greeted her as you opened the door. 
"Hi baby! I missed you." You smiled. 
Eddie's eyes met yours, and he could tell you had been crying, but he didn't want to mention it in front of Evelyn, and he also had some business to take care of. 
"Y/N, I have to get going, but I'll call you later. Evelyn, be good for mommy. I'll see you soon, baby. I love you."
Eddie rushes out the door. 
It's almost midnight, Evelyn was tucked away in her bed after a day full of arts and crafts, a melt down because you told her she couldn't get in the oven, and a chicken nugget dinner by the pool. You're drifting off, and your phone begins to ring. 
"Hello?" You answer soothingly. 
"Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
It was Eddie on the other end. Usually, you would be bothered by the late call, but you didn't have the energy tonight. 
"Mm 's okay, Eddie. What did you need to talk about?"
"I'm sorry for calling you this late, just got caught up with stuff at the studio. But I wanted to tell you I'm flying Wayne here in two weeks and wanted to ask if you would have dinner with us. I know he would love to see you and I know you would too."
You haven't seen Wayne since Evelyn's first birthday. He was very much like a father to you. You started calling him "Dad" after it slipped out one day when he asked you to run to the store for him, and it stuck ever since.  He taught you a lot, especially some skills, so you would never have to rely on a man to help when Eddie wasn't around. You haven't spoken to him much since the split, and you did miss him dearly. 
"No worries. Oh, that's nice. Umm yeah, just let me know what day and what you have planned."
"Great! I'm actually hoping to get the old man to consider moving here. He's retiring soon and I think he'd be better off with family around."
"Oooohh…you sure about that? You know how Wayne is." You giggled. 
"I know, I know. Maybe you can sweeten the deal."
"Eddie, I want no part in your shenanigans,buuuuut I do miss him. Evelyn should have her granddad around."
"I knew you'd see it my way."
There's a small silence, and you hear Eddie sigh. 
"Everything okay with you? You looked like you were crying earlier today."
"Yeah, I just got soap in my eyes. Burned like a bitch." You quickly replied. 
"Hmm okay… I just wanted to make sure."
You could tell he didn't really believe you, but he wasn't going to push. 
"Oh, one more thing…what are you wearing?"
"Ugh, goodnight, Eddie."
"Hey, I tried. Goodnight, Y/N."
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"Y/N, I know it's only been a few days, but I really do miss you. I can't wait to see you when I get back from New York." Keanu cooed into the phone. 
"I miss you too. How's New York?"
"It's great! There's tons of places I'd love to take you. Oh! I didn't get a chance to tell you, but the rest of the band is here in New York, and we're doing a few secret shows while I'm here!" He exclaimed. 
"Oh, that sounds fun! I'm kinda jealous of the people who get to see Dogstar live." You frowned. 
"Well, maybe I can talk to the band and set up a show when I get home."
"That would be awesome! But you don't have to do that, Keanu."
"I know, but I would definitely do it for you, beautiful."
"You're too sweet."
"Y/N, you know what else I miss?"
"Hmm? What's that?"
"I miss your plump lips wrapped around my hard cock while you look up at me with those big beautiful eyes. I'm sorry if that was brazen of me, but jesus christ Y/N! Any time I think about you, that's one of the things that come across my mind. And you get so wet for me while you do it." Keanu breathes heavily. 
"I enjoy it, and if I can be honest, I like being in control sometimes, and in those moments, I'm very much in control, aren't I?"
"Mm, yes, you are, sweetheart. I'm practically puddy in your hands when I'm in your mouth. Fuck! I can't wait to see you when I get home, I'm going to tear into you!"
"I can't wait either. I.."
"MOMMY!"
"I'm sorry, but I have to cut our conversation short. Evelyn just woke up."
"No worries. I'll call you when I get some free time. I hope you have a good day,  gorgeous. Bye."
"Thank you, you too. Talk to you later."
You lay in bed for a few more minutes to gather yourself. You get up to check on Evelyn, ready to start your day super early. You find her back asleep, arms spread out, one leg hanging off the bed. 
"Oh, my wild child. Just like your dad."
You gently put her leg back in the bed and cover her up. You think about calling Eddie on the walk back to your room, but it's around 5:30 am, and you're sure he's passed out by now. You open your closet and pull out a box. It was a box that was a mixture of sex toys, lubes, a Polaroid camera, and a velvet bag that held a pair of handcuffs. You opened it and pulled them out, the biggest smile flashed across your face. 
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It was your first week in Hawkins and your parents moved you and your younger siblings there after your graduation. You saw a flyer on the side of the building for a band playing at the Hideout. 'Corroded Coffin? Hmm might as well. It'll give me something to do in this boring town.'  You thought. That night you met Eddie. Somehow you'd catch him staring at you and then quickly turn his head. You were in the crowd when his band played and you did enjoy the music. After the set you went to the bar and got some water before heading home. 
"Who celebrates with water?"
Eddie stands next to you at the bar. 
"Well, I'm not celebrating anything…should I be?" You laughed. 
"Is this not your first Corroded Coffin show? I've never seen you at any of our shows, and trust me, I would notice and remember a pretty face in the crowd." Eddie smiled. 
"You're correct. This is my first time here and seeing your band. I just moved here a week ago with my family."
"So come celebrate with me and my band. I can make sure you get home safely."
"Oh yeah? I'm not sure about that. You may try to keep me handcuffed in a basement." You giggled while hooking your finger on the handcuffs he was wearing attached to his belt.
"Oh! No! I would never do that! Do I come off like that type of guy?!"
"No, you don't come off like that. I was joking…maybe. " You could barely control your laughter. 
"I'm Y/N, by the way." As you extended your hand. 
"Eddie, amongst other colorful names the town has given me."
He takes your hand in both his, feeling the cold sensation of his rings against your warm skin. 
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Soooo are you gonna stay?"
"Sorry, I really gotta go. See ya around." You smiled and made your way to leave. 
"HEY! HOW DO I GET A HOLD OF YOU?!" Eddie shouted.
"COME FIND ME!" You shouted back. 
Eddie just happened to run into you at Starcourt Mall, got your number, and eventually asked you out on a date. He was very polite, a great listener, and made you laugh any chance he got. You both shared secrets that you swore each of you would take your graves, insecurities, and dreams. You two were inseparable. 
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You take the bag, put everything away and put it in another box full of things that you weren't ready to get rid of. You decide to try to get a little bit of sleep before Evelyn wakes up. Your eyes close and you feel a slight dip in the bed, a small arm wraps around your stomach.
"Mommy, can I have waffles and bacon, please?"
"Of course, baby. Coming right up." You giggled. 
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"There's my girls!" Wayne exclaimed.
"GRANDPAAAA!" Evelyn yells, running. 
"Hi Wayne. It's been too long." You smiled
You spent the whole evening laughing and having fun. It felt like old times. You took some pictures and set up the camera and got a "family" shot. Evelyn was getting sleepy, so you offered to put her to bed. 
"You ready to go to bed, love bug? 
"Uh huh. Mommy, are you going to spend the night too?"
There was an awkward silence through Eddie's penthouse. 
"Oh no, baby. I'm going home to sleep in my bed. Grandpa Wayne is staying here for a few days, so he'll sleep in the guest room, you have your room, and Daddy has his." You explained. 
"Can't you share a bed with Daddy? Like other mommies and daddies?"
You nervously looked at Eddie and mouthed "help me" to him. 
"Uh,sweetheart, some mommies and daddies don't like to share beds with one another. "
"Okay. Mommy, can you read me a story please?"
"Of course." You smile and follow Evelyn to her room. 
"Boy, you should have done right by her. I don't know what got into you when you signed that deal and went on tour. That girl was head over heels for you, and I knew that the first night you brought her over. Eddie, I love you, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kick your ass. You lost a good one."
"You think I don't know that?? When I left the house that morning after she kicked me out, I thought I would be fine. Off to the next one, then the next, and so on and so forth. I found myself comparing every woman to her! I tried to stop, but it never failed. 'Y/N would have handled that differently. Y/N makes this better.' Sometimes I can't sleep knowing I destroyed my family and hurt her. She didn't deserve that, I didn't deserve her. I want to make things right, Wayne."
"Son, I'd be surprised if there weren't about a hundred men trying to break down her door for a chance. She's not like these Hollywood girls. She's a genuine and caring person. You better act quickly before someone beats you to it." Wayne huffed.
You walk back into the living room. 
"I gotta go. I promised Luna I'd have a few drinks with her before I go home, and my taxi should be here soon."
"Well, sweetheart, it was good to see you. I hope I see you a few more times while I'm visiting." Wayne said as he hugged you. 
"It was good seeing you too, Dad. Ya know you should move here when you retire. I'd love for you to see Evelyn more. She needs her granddad around."
"Did Eddie put you up to this??"
"Oh, no!" You smiled and winked at Eddie. 
"Wayne, just think about it." Eddie stated. 
"Fine, I'll think about it."
"My taxi is here. Thanks for dinner, Eddie. Goodnight."
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"Maybe you're meant to be together? You really need to talk to him, or you can ignore it, move on with Keanu, and keep second guessing yourself. "
Not only was Luna your babysitter, but she was your best and pretty much only friend out here. She helped pick up the pieces after you kicked Eddie out. She was pretty protective of you. She kept you from making rash decisions in the wake of your breakup that would have landed you on the front cover of the tabloids. But what you didn't know is that she was also a listening ear for Eddie, and she knew how he felt about you. Fortunately, she was a good friend to you both and was unbiased in this situation. She gave you advice when asked, nothing more and nothing less. 
"Luna, I just don't want to go through it again. I can't let a man tell me twice that he doesn't want me."
"Did he ever say he didn't want you? He cheated, I get it. Some people like to have their cake and eat it too. There was nothing wrong with you then. There's nothing wrong with you now."
"I know." You frowned. 
"Y/N, I gotta get going. I have a nanny gig in the morning. I'll call you tomorrow, yeah?" Luna grabbed your hand and squeezed  it as she smiled. 
You stayed and had a few more drinks, and the liquid courage was flowing through your blood. You asked the bartender for the phone. It took you a few drunken tries to dial Eddie's number correctly, but you finally got it. 
"Hello?"
"EDDIE! IT'S ME!"
"Y/N?"
"YESSSSSS! YOU ARE CORRECT, SIR!" You drunkenly yell through the phone. 
"Why are you yelling? Are you drunk??" Eddie questioned. 
"I'm sorry, Eddie." You whispered. 
"Y/N, just try to speak in a normal volume. Are you okay? Where are you?"
"Yes, maybe…I don't know. I'm at Sunset Bar."
"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes. I'll tell Wayne to keep an eye on Evelyn."
Eddie finds you at the bar nursing a glass of water.  He thanks the bartender for keeping an eye on you. 
"You lush." Eddie chuckled as he grabbed you by the waist. 
"Let's get you home, Princess."
"Thank you, Eddie. Will you make a fluffernutter when we get home?" You murmured. 
"Anything for you." Eddie smiled. 
You sat in the seat and stared at Eddie. You admired his profile. He had his hair pulled back into a ponytail with a few strands of his wavy hair in his face, and he had a fresh undercut. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. When he belted out the words to his favorite songs, the veins in his neck would bulge. You could feel the wetness pooling in your panties. You reached over and lightly scratched the back of his head, feeling the prickly hairs on the tip of your fingers. 
"Mm, that feels really good."
"I bet it does. You know what else would feel really good?"
"Hmm?" Eddie hummed as he gave you a side glance with a raised eyebrow. 
"Your fat cock deep inside me."
Eddie's ring clad hands gripped the wheel tightly, his knuckles whiting. 
"Fuck, Princess are you sure? You've been drinking. I don't think we should."
"I'm a little drunk, yes, but I know exactly what I want, Sir." You grinned. 
"Y/N, you don't even know what that does to me. Thank god we're almost home."
Eddie ups the speed a little, making it to the gate, pushing the access button repeatedly, trying to get it open as quickly as possible. You start to unbutton the top of your dress as Eddie pulls up to your house and places the car in park. You take off your seat belt and press the release button on Eddie's. You're straddling him before he knows it, his bulge pressed against your warm, wet core. 
"Sweetheart, you couldn't wait until we got inside?"
"No, Eddie. I need you inside me now! I need to feel you. I need to feel something other than these god damn conflicting feelings I have for you! Please, I'm begging you." You pouted.
You left Eddie speechless. All he could do at this moment was to grab your face and kiss you. Your lips pressed against his hard, tongues rolling over each other.  He breaks away, grabbing you by the back of your neck, he licks the side of your neck and reaches your ear. 
"You're so fucking needy, I love it when you beg." He growled. 
Eddie pulls on the handle to lean his seat back. He reaches up your dress to find your panties. 
"Oh, baby, I hope these aren't your favorite panties." Eddie grinned.
He pulls out his switchblade and cuts your panties off you and tosses them in the passenger seat—You haven't seen Eddie like this in a very long time. Sure you'd let him paddle you every so often and do a little dom/sub play, but he was always so soft spoken and well mannered ever since you decided to start hooking up,b afraid of fucking things up more. He unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, releasing his hard member,  pre cum already forming at the tip. You firmly grab it to line up to your soaking wet entrance. 
"Wait, I don't have any condoms. Did you bring any?"
"No, I didn't. I'm out, and right now, I really don't care. Just don't cum in me."
You gasp as you sink down on Eddie's thick cock. You feel a pleasurable burn as he stretches you out. He grabs on to your hips as you start riding him. 
"Fuck, your so wet for me, Princess. All that for me?" Eddie breathes haggardly.
"Mm, yes, it's all for you, Eds. Your dick.. f-f-feels so fucking good!"
"I've missed being inside you, your tight pussy gripping around my cock. Fuck, if you keep riding me like this, I don't know how long I'll last, Princess."
You love it when he calls you "Princess", it sparks the fire growing in your stomach.  Eddie's thumb finds your swollen clit and rubs it with a little bit of pressure. Your breath starts to hitch. 
"There it is. I know you're close, sweetheart. I want you to cum for me, cream all over my dick."
With your hands on Eddie's chest, you lean slightly forward, your hips roll desperately to reach your orgasm. Eddie frantically runs circles on your throbbing clit.  
"FFFUUUUCCCKK!" You yell as you dissolve into pleasure. 
You keep riding Eddie while you ride out your orgasm.
"Princess, I-I'm.. you gotta get off, or I'm gonna bust in you!"
You're already chasing your second orgasm.
"Mmm Eds, I-I-I can't stop! I'm cumming again!" You panted. 
Eddie holds you down by your hips as you both reach climax. He spills himself into you, covering your pulsing walls, clenching around him, milking every last bit of him. 
You fall on to his chest, trying to catch your breath. 
"Eddie…I-I love you." You breathed. 
"I love you too, Princess." He huffed. 
"Y/N, as much as I love being in this, uh situation with you, I think we should go into the house and get cleaned up."
"Yeah, you're right." You giggled. 
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You're both laying in bed after your shower together, your head resting on his chest.
"I love you, Y/N. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I wish I could take everything back." Eddie whispered into your hair. 
"Then why did you do it? I know I'm not pretty like the groupies on tour or the women out here. Why wasn't I enough for you?" Your voice trembled.
"You're gorgeous, Y/N. You were when we first met, and you'll always be. You were enough. I was just a scared little boy. Everything happened so fast, getting signed, Evelyn, moving to California…I just didn't know how to handle it all, and I didn't know how to tell you."
You sat up to look Eddie in the eyes. 
"Eddie, look at me. You could have told me anything. We've shared so many secrets that we knew each other inside and out. Whatever the world threw at us, we were in it together." You cried. 
Eddie held you in his arms. 
"Shh, I know. I fucked up. I'm sorry Y/N. I'll do better…if you let me try."
"I..I don't know, Eddie." You sniffled.
You eventually fell asleep in his arms. Only to wake up in an empty bed. You roll out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. Eddie is sitting at the table having a cup of coffee. There was a lull in the air. 
"Good morning, Eds." You smiled. 
"So when were you going to tell me that you've been seeing someone else? Keanu fucking Reeves of all people!"
"We're not that serious. We're not exclusive. And why does it matter who I'm seeing or if I'm seeing anyone? You're the last person who should be concerned about my dating life." You snapped. 
"Well he sounded pretty fucking serious in the message he left this morning!" Eddie bellowed.
"Does he know about us?"
"He knows what you put me through."
"So he doesn't know that you call me over here to fuck you senseless when you want to get off?.... Are you fucking him?"
"What? That's none of your god damn business, Eddie. I'm single, I can do as I please. YOU! YOU CHOSE THIS FOR ME WHEN YOU DECIDED TO FUCK EVERY BITCH FROM HERE TO THE EAST COAST AND LIE TO ME UNTIL ONE OF THEM HAD THE GUTS TO TELL ME THE TRUTH!" You sobbed. 
"Fuck, Eds. I love you, but how do I know you won't cheat on me again? I would look so fucking stupid for trusting you with my heart again."
"... Why him?"
" I dunno, he's nice. He makes me feel seen and heard. I know where I stand with him. He knows I have responsibilities, and he supports me pursuing my passion in art. If it wasn't him, Eds, I'm sure it would have been one of the plethora of guys that came around after we broke up. I didn't realize people knew who I was, but obviously, others were paying attention to me."
You could see that Eddie was disappointed in himself. His eyes were darting back and forth. He seemed like he was analyzing an invisible piece of code on the table.
"Let's get married!" Eddie blurted. 
"Eddie, you can't do that to me! This isn't going to magically solve any of this."
"You love me, right? And I love you. Let's do this!"
"Eds, it's going to take a lot for us to even get to the idea of marriage. Maybe…we should stop having sex…take a break…just strictly co parent."
By this time, Eddie has already standing next to you at the counter, arms folded. 
"Is that what you really want?" 
"I think it would be best for now. We can figure out what we really want out of this, if we even want it." You sighed. 
"I know what I want, and I'll fight for it. Even if I have to burn this world to the ground. But if this is what you want, I'll respect it. " Eddie muttered. 
"Thank you, Eddie. I think you should get back to Wayne and Evelyn. I'm gonna hop in the shower and gather myself. Lock the door when you leave, please?"
"Sure thing. I'll see you later."
You head to your room and start your shower. Before Eddie leaves, he picks up the phone and dials *69. The phone rings a few times before Keanu picks up. 
"Hello?"
"Look fucko, whatever you think you have with Y/N, you don't anymore. Leave her the fuck alone." Eddie gritted through his teeth with a clenched jaw. 
"Oh, this must be Eddie, her ex that cheated on her while she was pregnant and up until the point she kicked you out. Look dude, she's a big girl, she can make her own decisions. We're having fun and living in the moment. But I do see myself pursuing this for the long run. May the best man win, bud." Keanu chuckled. 
"Yeah? Well… Dogstar is dog shit!" Eddie yells before he hangs up. 
'What an asshole.' Thought Eddie.
When you came back out, Eddie was already gone. You weren't sure if you did the right thing or not. Maybe you should have broken things off with Keanu. You decided to grab some breakfast at your favorite diner. As soon as you were leaving the phone range. 
"Hello?"
"Hey there, beautiful, how are you?"
"Hey, Keanu! I'm okay, a bit hungry, so I'm on my way to get some breakfast. How are you?"
"I'm great, just missing you. Would you be able to have dinner with me tonight?"
"Oh, you're coming home early? Yeah, Evelyn is with Eddie and her granddad for the week. So I'm hanging solo."
"Unfortunately, I'm not coming home early, but I'd like to fly you out for a few days, if that's okay?"
"Of course! I'll let Eddie know that I'm going out of town for a few days."
"Perfect. I'll have a driver pick you up in two hours. Don't worry about packing, we'll go shopping. See you later, Y/N."
"Bye, Keanu."
You're all smiles and butterflies. You grab your sunglasses and head out the door to the diner. In a few hours, you'll be in the arms of another man. Did it make you feel bad? A bit, but you deserved to be happy. 
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A/n- I feel like I formatted weird due to the amount of dialogue or maybe it's just me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ let me know what you think. Leave comments, reblog, and like. It's greatly appreciated.
Tag list: @marvelnbangtanslut @bimbobaggins69 @heyyimmisunderstood @hiscrimsonangel @sweet-villain
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