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solarmorrigan · 5 months

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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Here’s the thing: Jeff isn’t actually a meddler by nature.

He’s perfectly content to let people be. He keeps himself to himself and is happy when others do the same. It’s not that he’s never curious, it’s just that he asks personal questions sparingly. And he’s probably going to ask them even more sparingly in the future, because the last time he’d asked one, he’d accidentally broken up one of his best friend’s relationships.

In fairness to Jeff, that relationship was going to blow up sooner rather than later (that is, in fact, exactly what Eddie had said to him when they’d talked a few days after the incident in question; Eddie had even said that he thinks he’d needed the wakeup call, though he’d have preferred it hadn’t happened the way it did – the way that hurt Steve so much. All the same, he seems determined to make things right, so– maybe not the worst thing in the world?), but still, Jeff feels a little… guilty isn’t quite the word, but he doesn’t have a better name for the squirm of emotion in his gut when he catches sight of Steve at Melvald’s one evening.

He hasn’t seen Steve in over a week, now – not since he’d abruptly left Eddie’s place after being unceremoniously informed that his boyfriend (Jeff’s pretty sure that’s the train Steve had been on) is apparently not actually his boyfriend.

And it isn’t as though he or Gareth or Oliver had really hung out with Steve sans Eddie before, but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t be willing; Jeff’s experience with Steve Harrington in high school had been peripheral at best, and though he hadn’t had the best impression of him at first, he’d actually come to enjoy his company since he started hanging around Eddie after that disaster of a spring break. He doesn’t know much about D&D (though Jeff suspects he knows a lot more than he lets on), and he’s not particularly into fantasy or sci-fi, but he does have a bizarrely encyclopedic knowledge of sports, and had been excited to learn that Jeff is into baseball and hockey.

He's just as bitchy as Jeff had always thought he was, but he’s also unexpectedly kind, and funny in a way that had caught all of them off guard, and largely seems like a solid sort of guy.

And Jeff just feels kind of shitty that the last time they hung out had ended the way it had, that’s all.

That is his main excuse for why he approaches Steve in the cereal aisle at Melvald’s at 8 p.m. on a Friday.

He clears his throat. “Hey.”

Steve turns, brows furrowed as he looks to see who’s trying to get his attention, clearly not expecting any kind of social encounter, but his expression clears a bit when he sees Jeff. “Oh. Uh– Hey,” he says. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I don’t seem like the type to eat breakfast cereal?” Jeff teases, and a little bit of the tension in Steve’s shoulders seems to ease away.

“More like I thought I was the only person lame enough to be grocery shopping on a Friday night,” he counters with a smirk.

“You might be,” Jeff says, though he keeps his voice warm. “I just stopped in to pick up some snacks for the weekend after– uh,” Jeff stops short; shit, why did he bring that up?

Steve stares at him for a moment, calculating, and Jeff sees the moment he makes the connection.

“Hellfire tonight, right?” Steve asks, his tone almost unnervingly neutral as he looks back towards the shelves.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, still watching Steve carefully. “Just ended about half an hour ago.”

Steve gives a slow nod. “How was it?”

And – well, there are two options from here. Jeff could take Steve’s polite interest at face value, tell him it was a good session, and let them both awkwardly get on with their nights, or… He could be truthful, and maybe see how Steve’s really doing (which would also be awkward, so it’s not like Jeff really has much to lose).

“To be honest? Not great.” Jeff shrugs. “Eddie hasn’t been in good form lately.”

He can see the curve of a sad sort of smile cross Steve’s face, just briefly.

“That sucks, man. Hope he, uh… gets his head back in the game soon, I guess?” Steve offers.

Whether he does or not will probably be entirely dependent on how his plans to fix things with Steve play out; Eddie hadn’t told Jeff much (apparently, he’s done accidentally flying his dirty laundry for the time being), but he had said that Steve had asked for a little time, and that they would be talking again soon.

“I think he’s working on it,” Jeff says, rather than digging into that particular can of worms. “And, uh… How are you doing?”

“Fine,” Steve says a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”

Jeff pauses for a minute, pursing his lips and staring up at the ceiling. Is he really doing this? On a Friday night at fucking Melvald’s?

“It just sucks,” he finally says, “that…”

“That you all had to see that I’m actually an oversensitive loser when you realized I’d basically made up an entire relationship and then ran out over it like an idiot?” Steve suggests, his tone so false and light that it sets Jeff on edge.

“That Eddie couldn’t see that he had something really good in front of him. That he completely fumbled it,” Jeff corrects him.

It’s only after he’s spoken that he remembers they’re in a public place, and that talking to one guy about his relationship with another guy isn’t particularly safe. He glances around, hoping it’s not too little, too late, and is relieved to find that the store is just as empty as it had been when he’d first stepped in. When he looks back to Steve, he finds him staring, brows furrowed like he’s trying to puzzle something out.

“Isn’t Eddie one of your best friends?” Steve asks at last.

Jeff shrugs. “Makes me qualified to point out when he’s been an idiot.”

Steve says nothing, just pins Jeff with that confused stare for a moment longer before turning back to the shelf, as if he might finally decide on what cereal he wants.

“If it helps at all,” Jeff says, more quietly this time, “the reason we were even talking about it is because I asked Eddie how it was going – the two of you dating. We all thought you were. We were– well, probably not just as surprised as you, but pretty damn surprised when Eddie said you weren’t.”

“That… actually does. A little,” Steve answers softly, cutting a quick glance at Jeff. “Thanks.”

Jeff shrugs. “It’s just– Eddie’s not– he’s not a bad guy. He gets caught up in things, and he forgets to pay attention, but he wouldn’t do something like that on purpose.”

“I know,” Steve says, not quite sharp, but not quite gentle, either.

“Sorry, I’m not… trying to talk him up. I swear I’m not here advocating for him, or whatever.” Jeff sighs. “You’re totally within your rights to tell him to fuck off—hell, you can tell me to fuck off—I just wanted to say that if he tells you he’s sorry, if he says he wants to fix it, he really does mean it.”

“Yeah. I know,” Steve says again, and this time he sounds gentle – a little soft and distant.

Jeff reaches up and clasps one hand over Steve’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before releasing him. “Anyway, if we’re not going to be seeing you at any of the regular places, you should come over and catch a game sometime.”

It seems like a given that Steve won’t be sitting in on anymore Hellfire sessions for a while, or coming to see their gigs at The Hideout like he had been (he’s already missed one, and they had all pretended not to notice the way Eddie had completely ignored the side of the room with the table where Steve would usually sit and watch), but Jeff finds himself unwilling to let go of his friendship entirely.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, glancing over again.

“Sure.” Jeff shrugs. “Offer stands. Gareth and Oliver’d be happy to see you, too.”

“They’re not into sports,” Steve says.

“But they can be bribed with snacks,” Jeff answers, and Steve gives a huff of a laugh.

“Cool,” he says, the first real smile Jeff’s seen from him all night beginning to cross his face. “I’ll give you a call sometime.”

Jeff smirks at him. “Will you have your people call my people?” he teases, and Steve reaches out to give his shoulder a light shove.

“Fuck off, man,” he snickers.

“Only because I have other things to do,” Jeff says, heading back down the aisle the way he’d come. “Night, Harrington.”

“Night,” Steve calls back after him, sounding a bit lighter than when Jeff had found him.

Feeling a little lighter himself, Jeff snags an extra package of Ho Ho’s on the way to the register. He figures he’s earned it.

Part 6

Tag List (Now full, I'm sorry! Drop me a line if you want off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e @pearynice @giverobinagfbrigade @novacorpsrecruit @hotluncheddie @strangersteddierthings @alongcomesaspider @theheadlessphilosopher @jettestar @rajumat @garden-of-gay @jamieweasley13 @dam28lh @oldwitcheshat @lololol-1234 @perfectlysensiblenonsense @salty-h0e @r0binscript @mavernanche @back2beesness @a-lovely-craziness @paintsplatteredandimperfect @redbullgivescaswings @emmabubbles @heartstarstar-blog @thesuninyaface @thatonebisexualman @fruitandbubbles @erinharvelle @m-owo-n @theystoodandplayedwithsilence @surroundedbyconfusion @luthienstormblessed @3ldr1tchang3l @pansexuality-activated

#steddie #steve harrington #jeff stranger things #steve & jeff #steve & corroded coffin #stranger things #sorry this bit's short but it's going to pick up soon!#solar wrote

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stevesbipanic · 11 months

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If You Would Promise Me Your Heart

For my Eddie, @steveshairychest.

Every nerd in Steve’s life had their mythical creature niche.

Robin loved pixies. Channelling their mischievous energy into her everyday life, bouncing around the store while they were on shift, even joking she’d get a pixie cut one day.

Nancy, though she would deny it to anyone outside their circle, loved fairies. Soft but calculating, intelligent and beautiful, when they had visited the ren faire the year prior her cheeks matched her glittery wings.

Dustin loved hobbits and Steve loved to affectionately call him one even as the boy grew just as tall as him, the excitement that crossed his face when Steve agreed to watch the movies with him made the confusing deep lore worth it.

Lucas loved ents. Steve would often find him in the woods just listening to the trees, he was the only one of them that would still brave the forest at night, the trees would keep him safe.

Max loved harpies. If Steve were to give any proof that these creatures existed, he’d just tell you to look at Max’s face when some boy told her girls can’t skate.

Will loved merfolk. When they visited the beach last summer Steve could see the years of stress melt away from the young boy’s face as he listened to the waves, the water washing away the memories.

El loved elves. She loved the many forms they came in from fantasy to Christmas, that they could be fun or loud or quiet or brave, that they could be whatever they wanted to pointy ears just made them a little special.

Mike loved griffins. He knew that being both just made you stronger, that you can be strong and brave and protect the things you love, that being different doesn’t make you less whole.

Erica loved unicorns. She would hit you if she heard you saying they were anything less than metal.

Which of course leads us to Steve’s favourite nerd, Eddie.

Eddie loved dragons.

The first thing he did once his scars had healed enough was to get a beautiful dragon tattoo across them, the rough skin almost like scales through the dragon’s back.

One of his most prized possessions is a massive red dragon figure for his campaigns.

Steve thinks he’s seen the How to Train Your Dragon movies more than every seven-year-old in the world because it’s the only things that make Eddie feel better when he has nightmares. He has seen them so many times that he can recite his own favourite scene by heart.

They’re in the small clearing in the woods behind their house, it’s spring, the afternoon is warm and the wind is calming. The sun is setting, they are sharing a small picnic, it’s perfect. The sun is bathing them in a golden light, Steve thinks Eddie would be beautiful even if the world was pitch black.

It’s time.

He whistles out the first few notes.

“I’ll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne’er a fear of drowning. And gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me.”

Eddie has turned to Steve recognising the song, his eyes are as bright as the love between them.

“No scorching sun, nor freezing cold, will stop me on my journey.”

Eddie’s eyes are shining, he’ll blame them on allergies.

“If you will promise me your heart, and love,” Steve looks expectantly at Eddie.

Eddie face breaks into a smile at Steve’s pause.

“And love me for eternity,” he continues, “My dearest one, my darling dear, your mighty words astound me. But I’ve no need for mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me,” Eddie sings pulling Steve to his feet as he stands.

Steve laughs as he continues, “But I would bring you rings of gold, I’d even sing you poetry!”

“Oh would you?” Eddie giggles.

“And I would keep you from all harm, if you would stay beside me.”

“I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry; I only want your hand to hold,” Eddie sings lacing their fingers.

“I only want you near me.”

The boys begin to spin and dance to only the tune of their voices.

“To love and kiss, to sweetly hold, for the dancing and the dreaming. Through all life’s sorrows and delights, I’ll keep your laugh inside me.”

Eddie begins to spin from Steve the joy bubbling up inside him, not even noticing Steve’s voice has gotten softer.

“I’ll swim and sail a savage seas, with ne’er a fear of drowning. And gladly ride the waves of life if-” the last words catching in his throat as he looks at Steve, down on one knee.

“If you will marry me.” Steve finishes, a beautiful black ring in the shape of a dragon protecting a ruby in its centre laying in a black box in his hand. “For the dancing and the dreaming, Stevie, yes.”

#modern steddie #steddie #httyd #steve loves his nerds #eddie loves steve and dragons #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #ficlet #proposal #fluff #i had other writing things to do but whoops

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thealtoduck · 1 year

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Being the Riddler’s criminal sidekick…

Tim Drake x Male Reader

Warnings: superhero violence, implied child abuse, horrible parents, mentions of sex…

Summary: Tim meets the Riddler’s sidekick for the first time and finds himself quite charmed by him…

——

How did you end up as the Riddler’s right hand man?

Well, the answer was simple: ”Why not?”

You grew up in a rough household, your father was an deadbeat alchoholic and your mother had left him for the divorce lawyer and his house in the suburbs.

She left you, she left you alone with the man that she was escaping from, imagine the impact that has on a childs psyche.

So from then on you followed one rule: Trust no one.

When you entered your teenage years you escaped from your father as soon as possible on to the streets of Gotham. Which is no place for a child.

Soon you found your way into crime which also led you to the Riddler.

You were at a bar looking for a new job when you saw the Riddler trying to convince a couple of men to join him as his henchmen. They however were not convinced to join him though as they didn’t like the idea that he quite literally gives clues for the cops and Batman to find him.

You however saw it as an oppurtunity, Riddler was already infamous and if he was this desperate for help it might lead to you getting a bigger cut of whatever scheme he had come up with.

So when the other men left you walked over to the Riddler and sat down across from him. ”Looks like your having some trouble, what if i could be of some assistance” you said. ”Yeah, because a teenager is exactly the muscle my operation needs” he said sarcastically.

”Oh, i’m sorry, i didn’t see the line of people wating to work for you” you said sarcastically.

The Riddler then smirked and said ”You’re in”.

He took you to his lair and introduced to his henchwomen ”Query and Echo” who were dressed as what could only be described as S&M biker chicks.

You went on to become the Riddler’s own sidekick, he gave you the nickname ”Clue”. You had become his close follower as well as one of the only three people who could sass the Riddler without getting shot.

He even let you nickname him ”Eddie”

Though getting this job wasn’t only sunshine and rainbows, it put a bigger target on your back by the authorities. After a botched mission you were arrested and became the youngest person ever sent to Arkham Asylum.

Not that you really deserved to be there you weren’t a mass murdering maniac but your close association to the Riddler probably made people assume you were… that or the judge was feeling extra pissy that day in court.

While in Arkham you met both Penguin and Two Face who offred you a job but you decided to stick by Riddler.

And you were right to do so as he soon broke you out of Arkham.

Then it was back to work…

Two years later…

You, Riddler, Query and Echo had stolen valuables from a museum, that you, Query and Echo were now trying to calculate how much you could sell it for. Meanwhile Riddler was gloating about his genius riddles and traps he had left behind for the dynamic duo to find.

As if on cue Batman and Robin smashed right through the window landing in front of you, Query and Echo. ”Oh, Batsy and Sparrow, what a surprise!” you said sarcastically standing up.

”But an unwelcomed one at that, get him girls” you told the two henchwoman who swiftly attacked the Batman.

”Robin, go get Clue, i’ll take care of these two and find Riddler” Batman commanded his sidekick. The black-haired superhero ran towards you. You grabbed a baseball bat and pointed the end towards Robin. ”Been a while Dove, i’ve missed you”.

”Do you have a list of birds just to avoid saying my name?” Robin asked annoyed. ”You tell me Peacock” you taunted. Robin brought out his staff and you started exchanging blows.

He managed to disarm you from the bat with his staff. So you ran up to him and grabbed his staff and ripped it out of his hand and threw it aside and you continued your fight.

Your fight had brought you to a staircase and you playing dirty as usual pushed him down it. Though unfortunately enough for you he grabbed your jacket and pulled you down with him. When both of you landed at the bottom of the stairs, both of you were now twisting in pain.

”Not my best idea” you said to yourself you said rubbing your forehead in pain. ”You’ve ever had one?” Robin asked equally in pain making you glare at him. ”Can we take like a 3 minute break?” you asked sitting up leaning against a wall. ”Can’t believe i’m agreeing to this but sure” Robin said as he did the same.

Both of you were sweaty and breathing heavily from your fight. ”So… how’s your day been” you asked casually slipping a cigarette in to your mouth and lighting it. ”Your really asking me that?” he asked semi-annoyed and very confused. ”Yeah, why not?, want one?” You asked, offering him a cigarette. He shook his head still very confused how casual you were treating this.

Robin then looked around and stated ”Gotta admit for a secret villain lair this place is quite cozy”. ”Right, Query and Echo decorated it, my room is right down the hallway to the right, they helped me put together an Ikea bed”.

”So i’ll ask again, how was your day?” you asked casually taking another puff of the cigarette. Tim was confused by the casual conversation the two of you were having but maybe this would be a good distraction.

”It was decent, got a coffee, finished some work and you know now i’m here” Tim answered. ”Cool cool” you said blowing some smoke. ”How was your’s?” Robin asked.

”Good, i stole some stuff, it was fun” you said cheerfully and Robin gave what almost sounded like a small chuckle.

You then stared at him and asked with a cigarette between your lips ”Wanna fuck?”.

”What?!” Robin questioned loudly starting to cough from breathing in the smoke. ”Sorry, i just heard Batman gets it on with Catwoman so i assumed you know…” you said putting out the cigarette.

”I mean it’s not like that, you’re attractive and stuff, it’s just you know bad guy and all that stuff…” Robin said making you laugh. ”Yeah, it’s fine Parrot, i get it” you said while laughing. You then stood up ”Well, i gotta get going, bye bye birdy” and you started sprinting through the hallway.

Tim stood up to run after you but you pressed a button on a remote making a bunch turrets appear from the walls targeting him. Tim ran up the stairs the two of you had fallen down as they started shooting. He ran back to the main room where Batman was cuffing Riddler to a chair.

”Did you get Clue?” Batman asked. ”No, he got away” Tim answered disappointed. ”Echo and Query got away too, they’re probably regrouping” Batman explained.

They left as GCPD arrived to take Riddler away and Tim thought back on what Clue had said to him more specifically the ”Wanna fuck?” part, he found himself thinking ”What if i said ”Yes””.

#tim drake x male reader #tim drake x male!reader #robin x male reader #robin x male!reader #red robin x male reader #batman x male reader #dc comics x male reader #dc x male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #batfam x male reader #batfamily x male reader

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writethrough · 1 year

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OOH

What if the group (or just reader and Eddie) go to Lover's Lake, and Jason and his goons show up and try to steal reader's clothes and Eddie gets super protective?👀 I even had a thought about both Eddie and Billy ganging up to protect reader but idk how you'd feel about that 🫣

By the Lakeside

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader x Eddie Munson)

Warnings: Language, Jason Carver & Co., slut-shaming, suggestive situation (I think that's it. Please let me know if you see anything else.)

Word Count: 2881

A/N: Thank you for requesting this, my love! I'm a little iffy about how I wrote Billy in this one. Not sure if he comes off as too AU. I tried to keep him in character. As soon as I saw "both Eddie and Billy," I knew there was no other way to write this. I hope you enjoy!

Moodboard by @steph-speaks

Finally, after weeks of extra shifts, sick days, after-school activities, and classes: everyone could hang out.

Eddie had gotten the key to Rick’s place after the dealer had been locked up longer than anticipated. Rick said something about if that ever happened again, he needed someone to water his plants—actual house plants, to your surprise.

And since it did happen again, Eddie suggested a day at Lover’s Lake with accommodations courtesy of the inmate. Everyone quickly agreed.

You had all arrived around the same time. Eddie opened your door before dragging out the cooler Wayne had lent you.

El and Max were already in the lake with Mike and Will running to join them. Nancy and Jonathan were setting up their blanket, and Robin was tugging inner tubes out of Steve’s car.

“How many of those did you bring,” you asked as she hooked two on her arm after hanging Steve four.

“They were having a sale, and Steve had some, so,” she did some mental calculations, “ten? Yeah, ten.”

You shook your head in amusement, closed the door for her, and made your way to the rest of the group. Only one person was missing.

Billy said he would meet you after he got off work, then muttered something about “little shits” and “fucking swimming lessons.” He was all bark and no bite when teaching the kids. He guided them through each movement and reassured them when they were scared to try something new.

You remembered the first time you saw him with them. You had to pick him up because his car was in the shop. He had ushered the rest of the kids to get changed but was still talking to a little boy. You didn’t know what they were saying, but whatever Billy had told the kid had been the right thing. The boy had beamed up at Billy and threw his tiny arms around his neck before rushing into the locker room.

Billy crouched there, eyes wide, then a little smile appeared, and he looked up to find you.

“Good day?” you had asked when you were close enough to him.

He shrugged, trying to fight back the smile. “Alright, I guess.”

You kissed his cheek and whispered, “Hurry up, and I’ll make it better.”

Eddie broke you out of your thoughts by wrapping his arms around your waist.

“All set, sweetheart,” he mumbled, kissing the back of your neck.

You hummed and watched as Steve, Dustin, and Lucas rowed into the lake with their fishing rods.

Grabbing Eddie’s arm, you pulled it to look at his watch. Billy would be here soon.

“Wanna sit?” Eddie asked.

You nodded, and he led you to the blanket, pressing against your side once you were both settled. He leaned toward you, his arm behind your back, so he was as close as possible.

“You think about them tipping the boat, too?” A smirk played on his lips.

You snorted. “The second I saw it.”

Eddie let out a laugh and nudged your shoulder. “Great minds, babe. Great minds.”

Your relationship with Eddie and Billy was unique. It had taken some deep conversations between the three of you to work.

You were good for Billy—everyone could see that. Though you and he weren’t together, there was something unspoken that made you off limits—to everyone but Eddie, that was.

He had been your friend for a while before Billy moved to Hawkins. So, when you developed a friendship with Billy, he had to come to terms with the fact that Eddie was more or less part of the package.

You had all been hanging out at your place, the TV on low, Billy’s arm thrown around your shoulders, and Eddie’s head in your lap. And you couldn’t have imagined being anywhere else.

And maybe it was Eddie's brownies or the darkness that made you say, “You both make me happy.”

They must have heard the hidden meaning in your tone because they looked at you in confusion but had the smallest of smiles on their faces. Then, they shared a glance with one another.

“You make me happy, too, sweetheart,” Eddie said.

Billy brushed a thumb along your shoulder. “Only one I give a shit about, baby.”

Their soft words and intense gazes made your cheeks heat up.

“What does…What does this mean? For us?” you asked, fiddling with your fingers.

Eddie tilted your chin up. “Means we should probably talk in the morning. When we’re all more…ourselves.”

You chuckled and nodded. “Good idea.”

Billy pulled you into him more and planted a kiss on the side of your head.

“My answer’ll be the same. Ya know, before you start overthinking,” he said.

Eddie settled back on your lap. “Mine will be, too. Just so you know.”

They were calling you their girlfriend when you woke up.

“Ew!” Robin screeched. “I think a fish slipped between my toes!”

Eddie laughed, making you grin as well.

He offered you a hand, bowing low. “Care for a swim, my lady?”

Instead of taking his hand, you flung your t-shirt over your head and pulled your shorts off.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked when you saw him standing there, eyes wide.

He hurriedly rid himself of his shirt, intertwined your fingers, and tugged you to the lake.

However, neither of you noticed who had just emerged with his two friends as they got closer to where you were set up to get to their car.

“That was the freak, wasn’t it?” Andy asked, turning to the others.

Patrick nodded. “And his little girlfriend, if that’s even the word for her.”

Jason glanced at you and Eddie, then at the blanket on the grass. A slow smirk spread across his face.

He gestured toward it. “Maybe someone should teach her not to be such a slut.”

They snickered when they caught on to what Jason had in mind.

He snatched your clothes, then rummaged through your bag to find the bra and underwear you stashed for later.

The hum of an engine stopped as they continued to their vehicle.

Billy closed his car door, scanning the area for you or Eddie.

He spotted Jason, and his stomach twisted at the familiar shade of green Billy had seen on you this morning. It couldn’t be.

“She acts like a whore, so why does she need these?” Jason laughed, waving the garments around. He was met with a chorus of laughter.

Billy ground his teeth, rushing toward Jason before he could think, and clocked him across the jaw.

Billy grabbed your clothes before they hit the ground and twisted Jason’s arm behind his back.

Jason let out a pained cry.

“You wanna say that again, Carver?” Billy bit out.

“I didn’t say anything!” Jason let out another sharp yell as Billy pushed further.

“You ever do something like this again—you ever call her that again—you’ll be in the ground.” He applied more pressure to Jason’s arm. “Understand?”

“I—I understand! I understand!” Jason promised frantically.

Billy shoved Jason away from him. He wanted to push him back into the dirt as he scrambled to his feet and rushed to the parking lot with his friends.

He turned toward the lake but stopped when he saw you and Eddie walking up to him.

Billy could tell you were shivering after being in the water. Even though Eddie’s arm was thrown around your shoulders.

“Did what I think just happened actually happen?” Eddie asked, nodding to your clothes.

Billy responded by pulling you into his chest and tucking your head into his neck.

“You okay?” he whispered.

Keeping your hands on his sides, you met his eyes. “I think so…I mean, you stopped him, but…why would he take my clothes? What was the point?” The spike in adrenaline muddled your thoughts.

“Carver’s an asshole. Does he need a reason to do anything?” Eddie rubbed your back, throwing Billy a look.

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

They were both silent for a moment before Billy spoke. “He did it ‘cause of us.”

“Us?” You tilted your head. “I know we’re not the most conventional couple, but stealing my clothes? Really?” You bit the inside of your cheek, then shook your head. “He needs to mind his own damn business.”

Billy squeezed your hip. “He ever bothers you again, you tell me.” He glanced at Eddie. “Same for you.”

Eddie saluted, breaking the remaining seriousness. “Aye, aye, Captain!”

You breathed a laugh, and Billy rolled his eyes, but the barest of smirks graced his lips.

“You still wanna stay?” Billy asked, gripping your hand.

You looked over your shoulder at the rest of your friends, laughing and splashing each other. It felt like forever since you’d all been able to hang out, and you weren’t going to let Jason Carver, of all people, ruin your day with the ones you loved.

“I really do,” you said.

Eddie tugged on your other hand. “Then, let’s get going!”

Billy set your clothes on the blanket, stripping his shirt and shoes as Eddie didn’t stop until you were in the lake.

Billy joined you, wrapping his arms around your waist and chuckling as Eddie dunked Dustin. The boys probably realized they wouldn’t catch anything with the rest of you there.

You vaguely heard the shutter of Jonathan’s camera, him giving a thumbs up when he noticed you looking.

Eddie slowly made his way over to you, soaked after Max pulled him under by his ankles.

“Your sister’s brutal,” Eddie said, though his grin contradicted his complaint.

Billy shrugged. “She plays to win.”

“At least it was her and not El.” You nodded toward the girl as she dunked Mike with her powers. “You had a fighting chance.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. “Ha ha, you’re so funny.”

He put his hands on your waist above Billy’s on your hips. And you had to remind yourself that you were surrounded by your friends—no privacy to be found.

However, neither of them seemed to care as they stepped impossibly closer, their chests pressed against you, and you were sure they felt your breath quicken.

Billy’s lips grazed along your shoulder and neck, letting you feel their softness without kissing you outright. Eddie did the same but trailed from your jaw to your collarbone.

Your breath hitched when they hit soft spots simultaneously, and their smirks on your skin nearly made your knees buckle.

“You’re both terrible,” you whispered, barely finding your voice.

They chuckled.

“You love it.” Billy’s words rumbled against your back.

“She definitely does.” Eddie nipped the juncture of your neck, his thumbs moving to graze the underside of your breasts to let you know he felt your body’s reaction through your swimsuit.

One hand rested on Eddie’s stomach as your other slipped into Billy’s hair.

“Hey! Just a reminder that I can see you guys!” Robin shouted, her hands cupped around her mouth. “And children! There are children present!”

All three of you laughed, and you sent her a shy smile.

Billy buried his head in your neck while Eddie took your cheeks and kissed you sweetly—a temporary ceasefire.

“The food’s gonna get cold if you guys don’t move it!” she shouted again.

You bit your lip, grabbing both of their hands and pulling them out of the water.

Eddie wrapped a towel around your shoulders.

“You sit. I’ll get you some food,” he said before walking to Steve at the grill.

When Eddie returned, the three of you settled onto the blanket, surrounded by your friends. Jonathan snapped pictures of everyone, and El insisted that she get one with each person. Once developed, she’d have a particularly funny one of her giving Billy bunny ears.

After you finished eating, there were still some blueberries on your plate.

“You all done, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pointing to the fruit.

You nodded, pushing your plate toward him.

The little smirk on Eddie’s face should’ve told you what he was planning.

He gingerly picked one up and threw it right at Steve.

“What the hell?” Steve’s brow furrowed, and in the midst of facing Eddie, he was hit in the forehead with another.

You couldn’t help your giggle as you leaned back into Billy.

Steve stood with a handful of his own berries and retaliated. Both of them ran around until they were out of ammo, and by that point, they were close enough to the water for Steve to tackle Eddie into it.

There were boos and shouts of victory amongst your friends, and you felt Billy’s chest shake as he laughed.

The sun began to set as they walked back.

Eddie flopped down, grinning. “I think I won.”

Billy scoffed. “In what world did you win?”

“In the one where I get to kiss a pretty girl ‘cause she takes pity on me.” Eddie’s grin only widened.

You rolled your eyes fondly and gave him a quick kiss.

“Better?” you asked.

“Much.”

You all sat watching the sky shift from navy to orange and pink. Eddie had pulled his hair back before laying his head in your lap. Your hand moved up and down as it rested on his chest.

“You ready to call it a night, baby?” Billy whispered in your ear, catching Eddie’s attention.

“I know we said about staying here, but would you wanna head home?” Eddie asked. “I know Billy stopped anything from happening, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it to be just us tonight.”

“Was thinking the same,” Billy said, kissing your temple. “Wanna love on you in private.”

You hummed. “I think I’d be okay with that.”

You turned, your forehead touching Billy’s lips, smiling softly.

After saying goodbye to everyone and Eddie handing Steve the van keys. You were on your way home in Billy’s car.

Eddie unlocked the apartment door, a hand on your back for you to enter first.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” you said.

“Movie?” Eddie asked.

“Definitely.”

The shower gave you time to think about what had happened.

Jason was prepared to steal your clothes, and not only that, he had gone through your bag to find your bra and underwear. And even though Billy told you why Jason did it, you only started to internalize it at this moment.

Your relationship with Billy and Eddie wasn’t what others expected. You knew when they had seen you walking around with one or the other, they assumed you were cheating. Then, the gossip really ignited when you were first seen with both of them, your hand on Billy’s elbow and the other holding Eddie's.

You had eyes on you in the grocery store and caught parts of conversations between people trying to be quiet.

Isn’t that…?

She’s with both of those guys?

Do you think they’re making her do it?

Those were bad enough, but then there were the people who took things too far.

You think she takes them both?

Wonder if I can be the fourth.

Fucking skank.

It didn’t get to you much anymore. You had boyfriends in the past, but nothing could compare to the trust and communication with Billy and Eddie. You loved them with everything you had, and they loved you.

They drowned out everyone’s comments with their reassurances. And soon enough, you rarely notice it.

The novelty of your relationship died down, most people not even batting an eye. But Jason and his friends could never let it go. It was like they were…offended by it—like it was so unnatural, so dirty, so foul, that it was up to him to cleanse it. He wanted to fit everything into a little box, and when it didn’t, there was no telling what he’d do.

You dried off, threw on a pair of shorts, and swiped one of Billy’s shirts.

When you finished, the movie was ready, and popcorn sat on the coffee table.

You took your spot between them, leaning your back into Eddie once he threw his arm across the couch and placing your legs on Billy’s lap. His hand drew patterns from your toes to your knees.

The movie was halfway over when your earlier thoughts returned. And you looked at Billy, the light from the TV illuminating him.

He must have felt it because he glanced your way, then gave you a small smile.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Thank you,” you said, reaching a hand out for him to take.

“For what?”

Eddie paused the movie.

“For stopping Jason,” you said.

Eddie shifted, making you move so you could see both of them.

“You don’t need to thank me, baby,” Billy said, glancing at Eddie.

“Yeah, sweetheart, we’ll always have your back. We’ll always protect you,” Eddie said.

“I know.” You kissed Eddie. “I know.” Then Billy. “I just needed you both to know how grateful I am for you two.”

“Trust me. We know,” Eddie said.

Billy nodded. “And we feel the same about you.”

You smiled, looking down, then back.

“Love you both,” you mumbled shyly.

“Love you, too,” Eddie said, kissing your shoulder.

“Love you.” Billy brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

You snuggled further into them, letting their warmth sink into you as Eddie pressed play.

Taglist: @phenomenal-bird @moonlightfountain

If you'd like to be notified when I post fics, please message me or comment with the character of your preference. You can find the characters I write for under Masterlist or Requests in my bio.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove fanfic #Eddie munson #Eddie munson angst #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x female reader #Eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson oneshot #Eddie munson fanfic

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dazed-nymphsss · 2 years

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⋆·˚ ༘ *𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐧

┕━» eddie munson x fem!reader

❕warnings❕: SMUT (p in v, protected sex, choking, name-calling ((whore, babydoll, baby, etc.)), missionary), aftercare, language, adult themes. NO MINORS.

a/n: Season 4 has permanently scarred me so this is word vomit, do with it what you will. I'll come out with something more significant at some point, but for now, here is this. It's blurb time >:)

『•• eddie gives you some love and gives you what you've been craving ••』

Not edited or betaed

I think of you, I want you too, I'd fall for you -- cigarettes after sex, affection

"Shhh, baby, I know, I know just a little bit longer," Eddie crooned, his fingers gently brushing back loose strands of hair away from your gentle face.

Your expression was one that was contorted in pleasure, your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth hanging open, releasing your fucked out, babbling nonsense as he drove into you with passion.

You had been begging to cum, begging him to edge you off that cliff and let you plummet into ecstasy. But you knew Eddie, and you knew that he wasn't going to let you go that easily.

He was going to make this last.

He was over you, letting out his own sounds of pleasure as he held your legs wrapped around his torso, making him hit deep. His tip hit your cervix firmly.

If he thought you were cock-drunk before, what he was doing now was scrambling your brain like eggs in a pan. You were entirely helpless under his lustful touch. And you loved it.

But you wanted more.

"Eddie," you called, voice rasped and pleading as your fingers grasped at the sheets below you.

"Yes, babydoll?"

"Choke me," you begged in your haze, your eyes coveying nothing but trust as one of your hands grabbed his, guiding it where you wanted it, "wrap your hand around my throat, Eds."

Eddie's movements were now slow, calculated, as he looked at you deep in thought. The thought of you trusting him with this, something so intimate, it did something to him.

Succumbing to your demands, he did as you wished, his hands tightening around the flesh of your throat, and you let your eyes roll back as he resumed his previous pace.

All that you could let slip from your lips were begging gurgles of his name, meanwhile, he was pressing his lips against your temple, whispering praises and sweet nothings into your hair as he implored you to cum. How he couldn't hold back anymore.

"You're doing so good for me, princess, so, so good"

"This what you wanted? Wanted me to wrap my fingers around your throat like a whore? Huh?"

"You drive me crazy, baby, fuckin' crazy, come on baby, cum for me"

At long last you felt the reprive of orgasm wash over you, making your already limited breath stop, each muscle in your body tensing, your legs shaking as he felt you tighten around his cock like a vice, unforgiving in its strength as you let pleasure consume you like it was a blood-hungry beast.

Your nirvana swallowed you, and with it, Eddie, as he let out a string of exaggerated curses before spilling into the condom, erratic jerks from his hips satisfying his primal urge to claim. To mark.

His hand released from your throat, making you take a desperate gasp of air, oxygen blooming in your lungs. He stayed rooted inside you as he let his lips drop from your temple and to your throat, where you let him satisfy his territorial desires.

He sucked large purple bruises onto your skin, staining you with what you could only describe to be him as you both gently floated down back to Earth.

When he finally let you go with a 'pop' of his lips, he leaned up on his elbows to get a good look at you. You were completely and entirely sated, your eyes also searching for his before you pulled him into a loving, gentle kiss.

His lips meshed with yours enthusiastically, letting your fingers gently smooth over his jaw and into his hair. But the kiss was stopped as quickly as it started as you pulled him back by the hair.

And he whimpered.

"Oh, you like that, Munson?" you teased, and he gave you a playful but deadly glare.

"Careful, it might get me wound up for a round two," he warned, sitting up and standing, before giving you a questioning look.

You gave him a simple nod before he pulled out of you, making you keen at the sensation it left behind as he waddled off to his bathroom to clean himself up.

After he did the same for you, carefully gliding the warm rag across your sweaty skin, making sure to tell you just how good you were for him, before tossing the rag away and giving you one of his shirts just in case his uncle came home and gave an unexpected appearance.

He hopped right into bed with you, making sure to hold you close in a warm, comforting embrace. Your head rested on his chest

"So hair-pulling, huh?" you chided, and Eddie chuckled, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling.

"Yeah. I mean, if you want to, we can save it for next time," he proposed.

"Yeah," you cuddled deeper into his chest, reveling in the solace it gave you.

Next time.

yeah, I know, not my best but it's just another blurb that was plaguing my brain hole. but in the meantime, send in those requests, I would love to hear your ideas!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie my love #eddie munson imagine #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb

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eddies-house · 1 year

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Eddie x reader with bad eating habits

TW - mentions of issues with eating, bad eating habits, depictions of an eating disorder

Masterlist

Anytime you go out to get something to eat with Eddie whether it be at a little place where you sit down or at a drive thru, you end up saying something like “I probably shouldn’t get this but it sounds so good…” alluding to something on the menu that’s probably got more bread and carbs. There’s some guilt in your tone and you’re kinda avoiding eye contact and kicking yourself for even saying anything because you’re embarrassed that you want something so heavy. You get super self conscious, curling in on yourself while looking at the other girls who are around, they could all pull Eddie if they wanted to.

When you glance back up at Eddie his face is twisted in frustration and you’re thinking that he’s figured out that he can pull girls that are slimmer than you, fitter. “Why the hell not? If that’s what you want then order it.” He sounds mad but not at you. You’re still acting all shy and looking down at your lap ashamed. “Cause I don’t need it.” You would simply tell him. He just scoffs and grabs your hand in his. “What do you mean you don’t need it, baby?” His demeanor would shift to something very soft and understanding. Your eyes would start to become wet and you’d be having so much anxiety all of the sudden. He’d pick up on this and then have both of your hands in his, watching you carefully so he can calculate what to say next.

“Hey, hey, didn’t mean to upset you, okay?” His voice is just above a whisper. “I just want you to know that you can eat whatever you want. I don’t know who told you otherwise but you’re safe with me, okay? Always.” You’d start crying anyway at his words and he’s mentally like oh god I said something wrong. That is until you mumble a thank you through your tears. He’d sigh, knowing you must have grown up being told things no one should ever have to hear.

He starts paying more attention to your eating habits, realizing that you won’t eat in the mornings or afternoons, only in the evenings. When you do eat it’s small portions of the actual meal in front of you. He always offers to make you something when he’s around or offers to take you out to get something but you tell him you don’t have an appetite. And it’s true, you’ve trained your body to not eat all day so you’re used to it. You both go out with the group for Steve’s birthday dinner and he sees you eyeing a burger on the menu but when he asks what you’re thinking about getting you tell him some kind of small appetizer. He knows you don’t want to order the burger because you’ve got it in your mind that everyone will be looking at you, judging you for your choice. It’s far from the truth but you can’t stop those thoughts.

An idea pops into his head and when the waiter comes around to take everyone’s order, you order your pathetic appetizer that won’t actually do much for you. He orders and then adds on “Also, can I get the burger?” And he orders it cooked just how you like. Nobody bats an eye at him ordering two entrees. Once the food comes he sets the burger in between the two of you and whispers “split this with me?” Cause he knows that you won’t eat the whole thing, half at most if you did end up ordering it for yourself. He’s just trying to help take the pressure off so you will actually eat more. It ends up being a little feast, he’s giving you some of his actual entree he ordered, you’re sharing your appetizer with him, the burger is split in half and you each take some fries. He’s now learning that if there is someone to share the food with, you become a lot less tense and actually end up eating a little bit more. He figures that you feel less alone and that’s okay with him. He’ll share every meal with you if he has to.

~end~

Masterlist

#I’m projecting #vics blurbs #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader

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boatcats · 2 months

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Make You Laugh

Eddie had never felt so wretched at the beginning of shoreleave. Normally feeling sick was confined to the last day as the crew suffered through their hangovers in an attempt to board the ship at least somewhat sober when the time came.

But Eddie hadn't had anything to drink. And he probably wouldn't get to. He'd have to pay the doctor and then shell out for a room in which to curl up for a few days and hopefully sleep it all off. That didn't leave anything for drink. It didn't leave much of anything for food either but one step at a time.

Fuck Hornigold and double fuck fucking Timothy (rest his soul).

Ed and Timothy had boarded the merchant ship together during the raid. The plan - the fucking plan - was that they'd fight together in the stern. But Timothy got ... excited or panicked or something and next thing Ed knew he was running up amidships slashing and hacking as he went. Which left Ed in the stern. By himself.

He'd done his best but his arm had gotten slashed all to hell. Which sucked but admittedly didn't hold a candle to what happened to Timothy when Hornigold found out he'd abandoned his post.

Ed hadn't fucking told. Timothy got himself caught up near the bow somehow and Ed heard the mate yelling "what are you doing up here?" and winced despite his frustration and the blood dripping down his arm.

Timothy was keelhauled later that night. And Ed was called forward by the mate and informed that he'd be holystoning the decks with sea water for losing control - shredded arm and all.

It hadn't been Ed's job to watch Timothy and he could tell the mate disagreed with the punishment. The mate didn't like when expectations weren't clear. But they were all just bobbing along in Hornigold's wake so the mate handed Ed the holystone and bucket and Ed holystoned the decks. His arm didn't like that.

His arm had not gotten better in the days that followed.

So now here he was on shoreleave, tired and sick and about to pay out all his share for a doctor and a bed to crawl into. Fuck.

"Eddie! Hey Eddie!" Jack popped out of a tavern door and ran up to Ed. "Wanna bet I can chug this whole gallon of milk?"

Eddie gave Jack a once over. He did, indeed, have a gallon of milk. "What do you have that for?" he asked.

"To chug. Nicked it when the barkeep's back was turned. Come on! Think I can chug it?"

"No," Ed said.

"Watch!" Jack winked, tipped his head back, and put the neck of the gallon to his lips. He started strong with at least five good swallows but he appeared to have forgotten he'd need to breathe at some point. His eyes began to take on a panicked look. At last he breathed in. But he forgot to take the bottle away from his lips so what he breathed in was milk.

Things got chaotic after that. Jack coughed and choked and wheezed and continued to pour a steady stream of milk down the front of his shirt.

Ed started laughing. He couldn't help it.

Then Jack started laughing, too. In between choking.

When Jack could speak again he rasped "Told you I could do it!"

That was it for Ed. "Fuck!" he gasped, laughing so hard tears ran down his cheeks. He kept trying to get himself under control then he'd look at Jack and start again.

Something was unfolding warm in his chest. That was the thing about a boy doing something stupid to make you laugh - it was stupid but it meant he wanted you to laugh.

"So where are you headed?" Jack asked once they'd finally laughed themselves out and Jack had wiped some of the milk out of his eyes.

Ed sighed. "Doctor. Fucked my arm up. Then inn, I guess. Need to sleep."

"Wanna go halvsies on a room?" Jack gave him an obviously calculating look.

"No, you'll be loud and invite the whole town over."

"Yeah, but you're fucked up enough to sleep through at least some of that. And I'll be gone during the day. Mostly. We can get a nicer room if we both chip in."

Ed thought about it. If he and Jack went in on a room together it would leave him enough coin to buy a square meal or two. And he'd have someone there if he got really sick. Jack was probably better than no one at all. Probably.

Ed would never tell but he was a little scared. At least someone would know if he died.

"Fuck it. Yeah. I'll go in on a room with you. Meet you at the inn?"

"Hell yeah!" Jack pumped the air. "Go do your doctor thing. I'll meet you at the inn."

#ofmd #ofmd fic #calicobeard #baby ed/jack #ed teach whump #injury cw #hornigold era

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megslovesbooks · 2 years

Text

Spec Fic for vague S6 spoilers (or something??? I dunno, if was supposed to be asleep an hour ago. I blame all of you but mostly @aa-lionheart for that delicious thought about Eddie thinking Buck got hit by the car)

“LAFD! Stop the car!”

There is a screech of tires on slick pavement and Eddie’s head snaps up so hard he’s going to feel it later. He’s on his feet and moving before anyone else even knows what’s happening.

Here’s the thing though, he knows this moment. Knows it inside and out. Has imagined it in 4k detail thousands of times. He’s examined it from every angle, tried to unspool every outcome. So. It’s not shocking when the car can’t stop in time and he sees Buck and the bike go down. It’s not a surprise because he’s been here before.

“Buck!”

It takes him a minute to understand that it’s his own voice that’s making that broken sound. In his head everything is calm, numb, clinical. He knows the pressure per pound of a car moving at 50 mph as it impacts the human body. Can calculate the damage that must be happening in real time. The car strikes the body and the legs shatter on impact. The shockwave begins to rupture the internal organs. The spine cracks as it hits the asphalt, the damage traveling up to the brain stem. The body is rendered useless within seconds. It will take the brain minutes to catch up.

“Buck!!”

He’s running. When did he start running? It’s not like he can stop what’s happening. He couldn’t then—bright yellow splashed with red, a clear blue sky, perfect above him. He can’t now—rain slicked pavement, dark clouds above them pressing down. It’s so heavy. He can’t breathe. He can’t—

I’d love…a little more time.

“Buck.”

Buck is—fine. He’s rising to his feet, his eyes wide but a slightly hysterical laugh twisting his mouth up at the corners.

“Woah!” He says, grinning as he tries to dust some of the rain water off his turnouts, an unconscious gesture to steady his own nerves. “That was close huh?”

The man behind the wheel is yelling now. Somehow Bobby has materialized beside the driver’s side window and is speaking in a voice so normal Eddie can’t even begin to comprehend what is being said.

One of the most common injuries when a pedestrian is struck by a car is pelvic fractures. Shannon’s had been broken in six places. It would be impossible for a victim with that kind of structural damage to be standing, let alone heaving a bike up off the ground from where it must have toppled. The bike should have absorbed some of the impact, it might have even twisted itself around the body of the person who had been struck. That’s odd. He doesn’t have the stats on that.

“Eddie?”

He blinks and Buck is standing in front of him, brow furrowed in concern. There’s a red mark blooming across his left cheekbone. Eddie reaches up to try and investigate but his hand is shaking so badly he can’t even react when Buck reaches up and snags it with both his own.

“Hey.” He says, and his mouth is twisted up in worry now “Are you ok?”

And that’s just silly, because Eddie’s not the one who almost got hit by the car, he’s fine. He’s always fine. He always makes it out. It’s the people around him who die, over and over and over again.

Brain function remains active for six full minutes after the heart stops beating.

“Eddie.” Buck says again, his hands curling into Eddie’s turnout, shaking him gently. “Hey.”

Hey. Are you here?

Someone makes a choked sort of sound, and it’s not until Buck reels him in by his coat, pulling him into a tight embrace—not until he is clinging to his partner…his best friend…the love of his life, that Eddie realizes he’s the one who’s got tears running down his face.

His partner. His best friend. The…the…oh fuck.

Fuck.

“It’s ok.” Buck is saying, his hands running up the planes of Eddie’s back like they were always meant to be there. “I’m ok. It’s not that day Eddie. It’s ok.”

Except it’s not. It’s not ok, because Eddie is still caught halfway between that sunny day at an LA crosswalk and the rain slicked pavement of this moment. He’s shaking and sick.

And he’s in love with his best friend.

He’s in love with Evan Buckley.

Fuck.

He’s so screwed.

#911 on fox #911 spoilers #911 spec fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 fox #megs writes #what even is this?#i don’t know #but i had to get it out of my system #oh well 🤷‍♀️#god i’m going to get no sleep #this time isn’t remotely edited #it’s barely written

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fastlikealambo · 11 months

Text

You should see me in a crown.|| Mafia! Eddie Munson x Black!Fem Reader

Summary:You attend Eddie’s father’s birthday party and what was supposed to be an awkward family dinner for a crime lord turns into a coronation by blood.

Triggers: Violence, Some Gore, Use of Pet Names.

This fic is 18+, minors and ageless blogs DNI.

“ Eddie, I’m not sure about this. I much prefer to go places where I am wanted and not where I’m tolerated.” you said, smoothing out the silk of your dress.

There was something in Eddie’s eyes you couldn’t place as he took your hand in his with a squeeze and followed him into the Munson Estate.

Something didn’t feel right.

“I would never bring you anywhere where you weren’t wanted princess. Tonight is a special night and you are my guest, I won’t be leaving your side, I promise.” Eddie said with a grin, fidgeting with his tie for a moment before you reached over and tightened it for him.

You dusted off the suit jacket absentmindedly, glancing at the gun strapped to his side. He followed your gaze for a moment before tilting your chin to look into his eyes.

“Who’s my best girl?”

“I’m not a puppy, I hate when you fucking say that.” You grumbled but he kissed your cheek.

“Tonight everything changes sweetheart.” Eddie whispered.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew what Eddie did for a living, you knew you were walking into a birthday dinner for the head of a crime family in the most secure place in Hawkins, but with Eddie at your side, you weren’t scared.

“ Eddie’s here and he brought his date, how lovely.” Al Munson towered over the pair of you, a great bull of a man in a designer suit, a tight smile on his face.

“ Happy Birthday, Mr. Munson.” You said politely, reaching to shake his hand but he yanked you into a hug. Mr. Munson’s lips linger on your cheek far too long, hand on your back slipping down lower and lower before Eddie politely knocks his father’s hand away.

“Don’t like to share your toys, boy? I was the same way with your mom, come let’s eat! Your girl will sit next to me.” He said and clapped Eddie on the back far too hard. Steering you both towards a large extravagant dining room, Eddie’s knuckles went white but you slipped your hand in his one last time before taking your seat at the table.

The dinner is uneventful from beginning to middle, Al ignoring your existence to hold court over the clanging of forks on plates. As the night continues, Al drowns in more wine than the entire table and just when you think he’s too drunk to remember you’re next to him, he turns to you.

“So what are you? A bartender, stripper, maybe a groupie for that stupid band my son is in?”

“Dad-” Eddie growled out, but you smiled at Al innocently, your hand on Eddie’s arm.

“It’s okay Eddie, I’m a teaching assistant at Hawkins Community College, I’ve been there about three years.” You explained, taking a sip of your wine.

“You don’t teach, you assist the teacher?” He asked, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. Eddie is all but seething next to you but you won’t let him take the bait.

“Yes and I help the students get through the class.” You said, an icy smile on your face.

“So you’re a glorified babysitter. Well, everyone needs a job, maybe you and my son will learn to aspire to more together, that is if you last until Christmas. My son gets bored during the holidays, isn’t that right, my boy?” Al quipped.

“You know old man, I was really going to try this time, I really was but nobody talks to my girl like that, not now, not ever.” Eddie said, in a calm but calculating way. Eddie stands up, hands on the back of your chair and his father does the same.

Something is about to go very, very, wrong.

“Your girl? She’s at my fucking dinner table eating my fucking food, that makes her my fucking girl. Everything at this table is mine, everything in this fucking house is mine, including you, you little shit! You come into my house with your dick between your legs with this stupid bitch-

You don’t hear the rest as gunfire and broken glass drowning out any other sound in the dining room. Your dining chair meets the hardwood floor and you’re too shocked to do anything but crawl to a safer place beneath the table, glass cutting at your knees and hands.

The room goes silent and you’re too scared to open your eyes. Heavy slow footsteps come in your direction and you crawl further under the table but a bloody hand on your ankle stops you. You actually scream this time, kicking out wildly in front of you.

“Baby, it’s okay! It’s me, open your eyes, it’s me sweetheart.” Eddie's voice is frantic then soft as you stop immediately, eyes open to see it’s his tattooed hand touching you and his brown eyes, worried and wide, meet yours.

“It’s over now, sweetheart. Come on out, come to me.” He said softly, gently pulling you from under the table and on your feet. The sight of bullet riddled guards and Al’s brain matter on a very expensive painting makes your knees buckle but Eddie’s grip tightens around your waist.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay, don’t look baby.” He pulls you close to him, draping his suit jacket over your shaking shoulders, turning you away from the carnage. The sound of thunderous footsteps propels Eddie to draw his gun again and he puts you behind him in seconds as the last of Al’s men comes running in only to stop fast at the sight before them.

“Anyone who walks through that door is mine to command or mine to kill, you have 10 seconds to decide.” Eddie said simply.

It only took three seconds for the men to put their guns on the ground and kick them over to Eddie’s feet.

“Good choice, find the others and give them that same choice. Those that live can clean this shit up and then report to me. Al Munson is dead and you work for me now, tell everyone.” Eddie said, eyes hard as the other men nervously nod and back out slowly.

The hardness melts from his face the moment Eddie looks back at you, gun back in the holster the moment he realizes you’re looking at the weapon instead of him.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, hands outstretched to you and you took them without hesitation, letting him draw you close.

“I trust you.”

“Then I need you to know two things. The first is that I love you and I will never let anything happen to you.” Eddie said, gently wiping blood from your cheek with his ringed thumb. He pressed his forehead to yours, his hand cradling the back of your head. You stand there in silence for a few moments before he backs away, face hardened once more.

“And the second thing?”

Eddie strides over to the corpse of his father, sliding a gold ring off Al’s blood soaked finger and onto his own.

“The second is that nobody fucks with us in our house. Welcome home, princess.”

That’s it for now! If you’d like to see more Mafia!Eddie, let me know or send a request, my inbox is open;)

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x female character #mafia!eddie munson

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sparklyslug · 2 years

Note

hi! if you are still looking for prompts, steve/eddie, one of them cooking or otherwise preparing food for the other one. if you are not still looking for prompts, totally ok! either way, hope things are looking up for you.

Ask Steve a year ago what his favorite food was, he’d probably struggle with the question a little, internally. Say something simple like, a burger. Steak. Pizza. Just because he knows that’s like, what foods people like. Those are the Favorite Food Groups. And he likes them too, likes them plenty. Has just felt kind of food-neutral, honestly, for most of his life. He’s eaten fancy catering at his parents lavish dinner parties, buckets of KFC at modest kitchen tables, and his own simple chicken and broccoli standing up at the counter alone at the house. And felt kind of the same about all of it. Food was food, generally. Favorite didn’t really make sense, as a concept to apply to it.

That was then, though. He gets it. He has a favorite food now.

Eddie has tied his hair back with one of his banadas, shoulders on display and almost irresistible in one of the cutoff tanks he likes in the summer, this one an old Hawkins Basketball shirt of Steve’s that also has a hole right over the nipple (why he had initially stopped wearing it, and why Eddie had quickly claimed it before lopping the arms and a good four inches off the bottom of it, because he thinks shit like that is hilarious). The whole look is pretty well calculated to drive Steve out of his mind, a goal Eddie had made short work of just about an hour ago.

He’d finally pulled himself up off Steve’s chest, face red and glowing, and shook his hair out of his eyes before saying “shit, I could eat. Grilled cheese sound good?”

It did sound good. Sounded fantastic. Sounded like Steve’s favorite food, is what it sounded like.

So shirt’s back on and hair’s tied back, but Steve is keeping his hands to himself, just sitting back and watching Eddie at work. Head mercifully clear and nicely floaty, body feeling heavy and warm and right, and yeah, definitely ready for some food.

He’s watched Eddie make his grilled cheese a hundred times or whatever, and he doesn’t get how it turns out so fucking good. It’s not a complicated process. Getting the pan warmed up, buttering both sides of a couple of creamy-white slices of bread. Four slices of plastic-wrapped cheese per sandwich, always, Eddie carefully tearing some of them in half to create even layers, not too much cheese stacked in the middle or at the ends.

The butter smells amazing at the bottom of the pan. Smells fantastic when the bread hits it with a little pop, a tiny sizzle.

Eddie’s gorgeous doe eyes are narrowed in concentration as he works, pressing the flat of a spatula down on the top of each sandwich. This is the stage at which Steve is least likely to catch an elbow, while Eddie is just watching the pan and waiting for the universe or some kitchen god to send him a signal that it’s time for the Almighty Flip.

“Got a gig tomorrow, mmm?” Steve asks, sliding his arms around Eddie’s waist, and tucking his chin over one shoulder.

“Eddie Munson, unplugged,” Eddie confirms. “Jesus I really have to try and find a band soon.”

“I’ll keep looking in the papers,” Steve promises, with a grin.

“Send me on another synth-pop goose chase and I will absolutely shave you bald in your sleep,” Eddie swears, brandishing the spatula into the empty space in front of him, since he can’t reach Steve to swat him with it. Small victories.

“Never again, I promise,” Steve lies. “Think that one’s ready.”

“It’s not,” Eddie says. “I’m nervous about playing acoustic, man.”

Steve knows he is, he’s been jittery about it ever since he confirmed with the organizer that he’d be playing the open mic. “You’ll kill it,” Steve says. Squeezes him a little tighter, enjoying Eddie’s little bitchy oof of protest. “You don’t need an amp to blow the roof off the place.”

Eddie ducks his head a little, shy and pleased. Steve presses his lips against the top notch of his spine, nosing Eddie’s hair out of the way to get to skin.

Enjoys the way Eddie shivers a little, the skin at the back of his neck maybe extra sensitive because of how it’s covered all the time. It’s a theory Steve is happy to keep exploring for a good, long while.

“Okay,” Eddie says, softly. “Now this one is ready.”

Steve peers over his shoulder. “I have no idea how you can tell that.”

Eddie shrugs, and Steve knows his face has got to be fucking smug as hell without even being able to fully see it. “What can I say,” he says. “I’m a man of many talents.”

Well, that’s just a fact, and Steve starts listing them in an undertone directly into Eddie’s ear, until Eddie is shifting a little in his arms, and laughing, and elbowing him out of the way just when Steve feels his breath catch, the shift in his hips– “sit the fuck down, you animal,” Eddie says, twisting enough to sink a hand in Steve’s hair and reel him in for a quick, sweet kiss. “Food first, seduction later.”

“You’re too good to me,” Steve says. It doesn’t… ah, fuck. It doesn’t come out even remotely like a joke.

Eddie though, Eddie’s eyes just go soft. His full, gorgeous lips twist into a small smile. “Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Now. Plates and napkins, please.”

Steve obeys, though they don’t even really need them– Eddie slices the finished sandwiches into neat triangles on the cutting board, and hands one right off to Steve, still loitering and half-draped over him. The cheese is perfectly melted and gooey in the middle, the bread crisped just right and saturated with golden melted butter. The noise he makes at the first bite is genuine bliss, eyes closing to savor the taste. When he opens them again, Eddie’s holding the other half of the sandwich in his hands, eyes on Steve, mouth a little open like he’d lost track of what they were doing here.

The noise Steve makes at the second bite, okay, that’s for show. And Eddie knows it, kicking a bare foot at his shin with a laugh.

They polish off the sandwiches in no time at all. You want to savor something that perfect, Steve thinks, but it’s hard to take it slow when you know how good every bite will be. And when you know there’s a bed waiting for you at the end of it, a bed with Eddie Munson in it, and a whole afternoon stretched blissfully ahead of you both.

Yeah. Favorite food. Grilled Cheese By Eddie Munson. No question.

#thank you darling i'm feeling much better!#a night of halloween faves and fic writing is good for all ills #though now i REALLY AM CRAVING A GRILLED CHEESE FUCK #ty for the prompt!#steddie as she goes boys #stranger things fic #my fic #prompts #asks #that's all for tonight but there are SO MANY FUN ONES STILL TO GET TO and I have time this week so that's my plan YAAAAY #mop

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momotonescreaming · 1 year

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This started as me word-vomiting into @unclewaynemunson 's inbox, and thanks to them encouraging me to flesh it out - I now have this whole thing. Wayne Munson and Scott Clarke build a home together. Clarkson. (3.5k)

Looking back, it seemed inevitable, the pair finding a new home together.

Scott would have never felt comfortable moving into Forest Hills, packing up a whole house worth of stuff and cramming it all into a trailer not even half the size. Living in the middle of many other trailers, where you could hear everything your neighbours did. Mrs. Carter, from the trailer behind them, turned her TV all the way up and you could hear the show as clear as anything from the Munson’s own living room. John and Katie, from just down the way, had screaming matches whenever he got home late from the bar, drunk as anything.

Everyone knew everyone’s business in the trailer park.

Wayne didn’t begrudge Scott that, the same way Scott didn’t blame him in the slightest for not feeling comfortable in the suburbs. In his big house on a street full of semi-identical houses. Full of middle class families with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence, who knew who Scott was, and loved to gossip even though they claimed they didn’t. His house was too quiet, too big, too different.

So they would stay the night, or a weekend, and then drift back to their separate houses. It was fine at first, as they figured out their relationship. Where they stood, how the other worked. But the more time passed, and the more time they spent together — the more Wayne could feel the ache in his chest when they parted. Settling low in his ribs when he had to leave for his shift at the plant, gripping at his chest when he went back to his trailer.

It wasn’t pleasant, but it was enough knowing that he had Scott, even for those short moments.

Then he lost his job at the plant, found himself working during the daylight hours now, and the aching grew worse when he could finally spent full nights curled up in bed with Scott. He knew exactly what he was missing when he left.

Wayne had taken that ache, the longing that seeped into his every pore, and let it grow into something solid. Something he could hold in his hands, run over in his mind. And when it was finally something he could grip, something he understood, he talked to Scott.

In the quiet of Scott’s house, in his bed, when it was just the two of them and the moonlight shining through the gap in the curtains — Wayne held Scott’s hand and asked him if he had ever thought about getting a home together.

And that was how it started.

Wayne would look at the houses for sale in the paper, circling ones he was considering. Scott visited the local real estate office, looking at photos and brochures of what they had on the market. It was a little touch and go for a while, the pair figuring out where the balance was between Scott’s nice suburban house, and Wayne’s cosy trailer.

Eddie had helped, pointing out houses that he said had charm, that told a story. Ones that were fun, or unique, that he thought would be cool to live in. To say that you own.

They had found it eventually, their perfect house. Wayne always thought it was cheesy TV drama, when those couples in real estate shows talked about how they ‘just knew’ when they found their dream home. It didn’t seem so cheesy now that he had it himself.

The house was advertised as a ‘Fixer Upper’. A cosy future home in need of some TLC. A semi-secluded house by the lake front, down a long gravel drive in a small clearing and surrounded by the forest. Two bedrooms and a detached garage.

Wayne and Scott had discussed it intensively — making sure it was what they wanted, it was the right move, if they were able to fix it up or not. Wayne had talked to Eddie, and to Steve. Running it past both of his boys — while Scott had talked to the bank. Getting opinions, calculating every variable, dotting their I’s and crossing their T’s.

And then there was no reason for them to refuse. So they bought it. They owned a house together.

The real estate agent wasn’t lying when they said it was a fixer upper. The paint was peeling off of the siding, and off the windows. The wallpaper was old and faded. The ceiling leaked. The kitchen didn’t work, and the plumbing was iffy at the best of times. The land was overgrown, and there was a long list of minor things to fix. It was barely inhabitable.

It was perfect.

And so Wayne kept his trailer, and Scott kept his house, and they slowly started to pack things away as they spent weekend upon weekend working on their house.

They get Eddie and Steve round to help clear the long driveway of branches and rocks, to strip the wallpaper and start to give the whole house a deep clean. Eddie only complains the whole time. Wayne smiles at Scott as Steve threatens to dump a bucket of soapy water over Eddie’s head, laughing all the while.

Many an evening is spent flipping through wallpaper samples and paint swatches, Scott passing one over to Wayne to ask for his opinion, only for Wayne to reply that he’s really not an expert on these things. The walls stay bare for a long while. Scott continues to show Wayne colours, determined to find one he will have an opinion on, while Wayne focuses on getting the house habitable first.

Each weekend they make a little more progress. Wayne puts his handyman skills to work, steadily working his way through the house. Scott helps out with the electrics — checking the light fixtures, the switches, making sure nothing major is wrong. They do a lot of cleaning. A lot of cleaning.

But it isn’t always hard work, thankfully. Wayne doesn’t think his back could take it, if it was. There are cool afternoons spent wandering through the empty rooms of their house, cracking open windows to air the place out. Drifting through the rooms with their hands entwined together, discussing what should go where.

How they should lay out their living room, what furniture to keep and what they can get rid of as they merge their things together, do they want curtains or blinds. Shelves and hooks for Wayne's mugs and hats is a given. Scott says so offhandedly, casually — of course they’re going to display his collection in the living room — and Wayne smiles softly in return, kissing his partner on the cheek.

Scott spends ages talking about where to put the snake tank — telling Wayne about climate and temperature control, adequate space, snake behaviour and the need to hide. He gestures with his hands as he talks, the excitement and sheer joy lighting up his face. Wayne smiles fondly, and it’s nice knowing he doesn’t have to hide that here. He can smile at the man that he loves, and doesn’t have to worry about anyone else, about the outside world. It’s just them, together.

Wayne didn’t realise exactly just how happy this would make him. He knew he loved Scott, and he knew he wanted to be with him, but the sheer happiness of building up their home together had him feeling giddy. He was almost embarrassed about it, how excited for the weekend he was — because he knew he would be wiling away the hours working on making their house a home.

They’re not quite sure who bought it up first, but they end up with an air mattress on the floor of their new master bedroom, piled up with old pillows and spare blankets. The embarrassment fades when Wayne realises that Scott is just as excited to start this new chapter of their lives together. They’ll spend the night on their mattress on the floor, clothes neatly piled up on the hardwood floor next to them.

None of the rooms have curtains yet, so the cold of the forest seeps through the glass window, but Wayne finds he doesn’t mind. He can hear the chirping of the crickets, and can see the stars out the window. It’s nice, he thinks, having their bed face the window so they can see the forest outside. There’s no metal trailers, no raccoon eating trash, no nosy neighbours.

Scott pulls himself closer, entangling his legs with Wayne, wrapping his arms around Wayne’s middle. Their blankets trap the heat, and the cool of the air around them makes the warmth more enticing. Everything is soft and slow, as if the room has slowly filled with molasses. He curls up to Scott, eyes fluttering shut, feeling the warmth of his breath on his skin. Wayne falls asleep to the soft murmurings of Scott softly describing the constellations to him.

Wayne wakes up slow, mouth dry and eyes bleary with sleep. He’s warm, limbs heavy as he slowly slips into waking. Blinking, he opens his eyes to find that him and Scott have shifted even closer in sleep; can see that they’ve entangled themselves laying face to face, legs still entwined. Wayne’s legs are bare, having taken his jeans off to sleep only in his boxer briefs. Scott brought a spare pair of pyjama pants (he always did feel the cold a lot more than Wayne), and he can feel the soft fabric of them where Scott’s leg is sandwiched between his own.

The sun is only just rising, sky dusted with soft pinks and oranges. It’s beautiful, but Wayne can’t help but ignore the curtain-less window to watch Scott. He’s still asleep, breath warm and steady as it brushes Wayne’s face with hot air. Face lax, still weighed down by sleep, lit only by the soft glow of the dawning sun. Shifting his arms, Wayne holds Scott loosely, slowly rubbing one hand up and down Scott’s back — feeling the bumps of his spine.

Scott hums contentedly, still asleep, and nuzzles closer to Wayne. He brings his other hand to rest at the base of Scott’s neck, fingers slowly running through his hair. They don’t have anywhere to be, there’s no rush to get to work or school, so Wayne lets himself lay there watching Scott. Feeling the warmth of his body pressed into his, the soft fabric of his undershirt underneath his hands. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, watching Scott sleep, feeling the sun slowly rise as the warmth of it shines through the window. The birds are singing happily in the trees, chirping and tweeting at each other.

He could get used to this; waking up to the sounds of the woods, and the sun, and his lover wrapped in his arms inside their house. There’s a shifting, the air mattress moving underneath them as Scott slowly drags himself into waking. He blinks, eyelids fluttering open and then immediately scrunching shut at the light. Wayne chuckles, leaning over to kiss Scott on the cheek. The mattress squeaks underneath them.

“Mornin’” Wayne whispers, not yet daring to speak at a normal volume. They’re in a sleepy little bubble, wrapped up in their blankets, and it feels as if one wrong move will make it burst, and then they’ll be shocked back into reality. There in the early morning, with his love by his side, on the floor of their new house, the world doesn’t feel real yet. It’s just them, together.

Scott peels his eyes open slowly, sluggishly, smiling at Wayne’s lips on his cheek. “Morning,” he mumbles in return. Half asleep — still barely awake — Scott drags his hand so its resting on Wayne’s waist, thumb running in gentle circles. They melt into the moment, still heavy with sleep and the knowledge that they don’t have to be anywhere else. They can stay in bed, in the rising sun, watching the love on each other’s face.

Drawing his other hand up to cup Wayne’s cheek, Scott gently presses and draws Wayne closer. There’s no pressure, no rush, as Scott leans in to kiss him. Wayne lets himself be handled, sinking into the kiss in return. It’s languid, familiar. A slow, sleepy drag of lips against lips. Scott’s body is warm where it’s inching closer to his, and his 5 o’clock shadow scratches against his own. Wayne smiles against Scott’s lips, joy bubbling up inside, wriggling in his stomach. His hand trails down to settle at the small of Scott’s back, resting there, not pushing or pulling.

There are no expectations, no goal — except for kissing Scott. Scott, who hums happily against Wayne’s smiling lips, feeling it rumble in his chest. They follow the motions of the kiss, not deepening it — hungry and eager — but letting it settle as something soft and sweet. Feeling sleep heavy and a little love drunk.

“I could get used to this,” Scott murmurs into Wayne’s mouth.

“My thoughts exactly,” He replies, their kissing slowing down, morphing into quick pecks, gentle presses of lips in between words. “Good thing we have a house then.”

Scott smiles softly. Another gentle kiss. “Can’t wait for it to be ready.”

“You just want to put me to work,” Wayne jokes, tone light and voice still quiet as he kisses the corner of Scott’s mouth, feeling it draw up into a smile beneath his lips.

“You do look very handsome in a tool belt.” Scott laughs, his voice honey sweet. He presses a quick kiss to Wayne’s cheek, and then leans back, smiling, raking his eyes over Wayne’s face. He looks happy. “Thank you. For doing most of the work on this place. I know I’m not the biggest help.”

“You help plenty.” Wayne replies, gaze softening at Scott’s words. “I couldn’t do this without you. I wouldn’t want to.”

“Thank you,” Scott replies, slowly drawing away from Wayne. He misses the warmth already . “Speaking of helping, I’ll make us coffee.”

They kiss quickly, Scott pulling himself upright and stretching with a sleepy grunt. Wayne follows the motions, letting his hands drift along Scott’s sides as the other man sits up. He lays there for a second, watching Scott, before slowly peeling himself out of bed with only mild grunts at easing his aching back off of the air mattress.

Scott stands there, next to the mattress in his undershirt and pyjama pants, smiling fondly down at him. “You don’t have to get up. I was going to bring the coffee to you.”

“Not as nice without you,” Wayne simply says with a subtle shrug of his shoulders, as if it was a known fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and everything was nicer when Scott was there.

“Come on then,” He says, holding his hand out for Wayne to grab, using it as leverage to ease himself off of the bed and into a standing position.

They don’t speak as they get dressed, falling into a familiar routine. Words aren’t necessary here. He can see Scott’s fondness on his face as he smiles, can feel it in the simple way he hands him his pants before he can even reach for them himself. Knowing that Scott’s eyes raked over his body and saw him shiver in the early morning air — anticipating his need before he can.

So in return he brushes away Scott’s hands, looking up at him through his lashes and buttoning up his shirt. Making sure it matches up, he hasn’t missed a buttonhole, leaving the top buttons undone, just the way he knows Scott prefers. He runs his hands over the fabric, smoothing it out and brushing off imaginary dust. Feeling the warmth of Scott’s chest, and the familiar fabric underneath the rough callouses of his hands.

Scott smiles at him, before leaning over to pick up Wayne’s discarded flannel shirt. He helps him into it, straightening the collar so it lies flat. Wayne smiles back. It somehow feels more intimate helping someone put their clothes on, than it does taking them off.

He follows Scott out of their bedroom, and into the kitchen. It needs a lot of work, and Wayne can’t help but notice it every time he enters. There’s no fridge, the oven is broken, half the cupboards have broken hinges, the floor might need re-tiling. But it has nice big windows that look out the back of the property — over the woods and the lake, the sun reflecting back at them.

Wayne can ever so clearly picture them spending their lazy mornings here together. They’ll put a little table by the window, and Wayne will smile when Scott calls it a ‘breakfast nook’. He’ll cook — making them eggs and toast, or a big stack of pancakes — while Scott brews them up some coffee. They’ll be in their slippers and dressing gowns, fighting off the cold. He’ll be reading the newspaper, while Scott flips through one of those science magazines he’s subscribed to.

There’s a click, and Wayne watches as Scott turns on the small gas cooker they bought from the camping supply store. It’s a small cheap thing, but it does the job. They’ve sat it on the counter, next to a large jug of water they’ve been boiling to help clean off some of the more stubborn dirt. Scott puts a pot on, fills it with water, and lets it heat up as he sets up some of the supplies they prepared. Some of Wayne’s mugs — ones that he didn’t mind leaving at the house, instant coffee, sugar, milk powder. Some basic groceries that would last, should they need them while they worked on the house.

Wayne gestures with his head, lets Scott know he’s heading outside, and leaves through the back door just off the kitchen. The door is still sturdy, with peeling red paint and a small stained glass window in the middle. It leads off onto the back porch, fairly large, with a white railing and a set of stairs that led down into the clearing out the back. The one with the path that led down to the lake.

They had talked about putting Wayne’s porch couch there, on this new porch, so they could have a place to sit and look out over the lake. It was a nice idea, but for the moment it laid bare, save for an old ashtray. Wayne leans on the railing, and considers why he actually came out here. He doesn’t feel the itch to smoke, the urge shaking his hands, and is surprised but not complaining. So he leans, and breathes, enjoying the sounds of nature and the shimmering lake.

There’s a dock down there, jutting out over the water. Some of the boards were loose, and damaged with time — but it was theirs. Scott had checked with the agent, that dock was theirs to use as they pleased. One day — Wayne wanted to fix it up. Make sure it was sturdy with no risk of breaking any time soon.

He can picture himself using it to go fishing in the early morning, sitting on a deck chair, watching the water and waiting for the sun. Enjoying the chirping of the birds and buzzing of the insects. The sound of the water gently lapping at the dock. Or perhaps a small boat. He can picture Eddie and Steve, heading down to the dock in the heat of the summer sun. In the afternoon, when it was hottest and most oppressive. They’d jump off, splash around, swimming in the lake until their fingertips wrinkled. He can picture Scott sitting on the end, dangling his feet into the water, smiling at him. Maybe he’s reading a book, maybe he’s sitting next to Wayne, telling him all the assorted fish fact he’s picked up over the years of teaching.

The smell of freshly brewed instant coffee draws him back inside. The back door creaks, but Wayne finds he doesn’t mind. Scott’s at the kitchen counter, stirring their coffee with a cheap plastic spoon. He turns when he hears Wayne enter, smiling at the sight of him, before holding out one of the mugs. It’s white, with a a decal of a fish in the middle of some text that read WOMEN WANT ME, FISH FEAR ME. Eddie had laughed his ass off when he gifted it to Wayne, knowing the pair of them were as gay as anything. Scott’s mug was a faded shade of brown, with looping text in the centre that advertised IT’S COOL TO BE A COWBOY. He smiled at it.

Wayne takes the coffee, thanking Scott, enjoying the warmth of it as it seeps into his hands. He leans against the counter, and takes a sip. It’s perfect. Exactly how he likes it. Scott smiles at him fondly over the top of his own mug, steam curling up into the cool air, almost caressing his face.

The coffee is instant, the cracked tiles cool underfoot, and none of the appliances work — but Wayne wouldn’t have it any other way. Not with Scott looking at him like he does, in a house that’s theirs.

#Stranger Things #Wayne Munson #Scott Clarke #Wayne Munson x Scott Clarke #Scott Clarke x Wayne Munson #Clarkson #My Writing #writing this out was how i spent most of my weekend so i hope you like it #im not so sure on the first bit but its done now #the soft sweet shit was very fun to write tho i like those bits

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bucks-little-hop · 2 months

Text

let it burn 1.6k

Buddie Week Day 4 - Eddie calling Buck 'Evan' - falling asleep on each other - "Because I fucking love you!

read on ao3 here

“Because I fucking love you” Buck shouted at Eddie. The second he processed exactly what came out of his mouth he felt the anger drain out of him. This was somehow always how it was going to go. When things were easy, he could keep his love under wraps. It still spilled out sometimes, but the friendship lines had been blurred long ago. Their casual domesticity had been through enough that Eddie could overlook the love overspill as just their friendship. But now, there was no real going back. It was out there, and Buck would have to deal with the consequences.

It hadn’t been Buck’s intention to end up in the hospital again. Given the choice however, he would do it all again. He and Eddie had been sent back into the crumbling building for one final sweep. There were reports that there should still have been a family in the building. Neither man knew at the time, but the family wasn’t even in the state at the time of the fire. The two had searched where they could before the orders were given to evacuate. Eddie ran in front, with Buck close behind in. The creaks were ominous in the building. Buck only saw the ceiling starting to cave because he was further back. There wasn’t enough time to do anything. He knew Eddie would be mad at him. It was a risk Buck was willing to take to be sure Eddie was safe.

Buck sped up and shoved Eddie outside the door. He watched for a split second as Eddie stumbled but made it out. His relief was brief, as Buck felt one of the ceiling beams hit the side of his helmet and fall onto his shoulder. He had broken enough bones to know that he definitely broke his collarbone and potentially his shoulder. He considered himself lucky that it was only the end of the beam and he could get himself out. He did know if he hadn’t shoved Eddie, odds were Buck would not have been hit, but Eddie would have.

It didn’t matter to Buck if he got hurt. What was another broken bone. It was more time off work, probably some grueling physical therapy, a session with a therapist to remind everyone he was fine. Yes, Buck did always calculate the risks, it was just he would rather he get hurt and see all of his friends safe.

The two made it far enough from the building they could have a second to recover without worrying about the building. They both ripped off their helmet and mask, taking deep breathes. Buck saw the anger brewing behind Eddie’s eyes. He knew Eddie would be mad at him. Eddie almost always was a little mad when he got hurt, especially when it was at the expense of someone else. Safest course of action here was to avoid the confrontation now. He could handle being yelled at once they were off the scene, once he knew for sure Eddie would be safe from the building. He could never explain to Eddie why he did what he did. There was no way to express his feelings on it that were healthy. It was something he should eventually address, but he sometimes just wanted Eddie to hear him out. Let him know that yes, he knew he was important to those around him but it was always just easiest for Buck to be the one getting injured. He could tell Eddie was about to start yelling, but their radios crackled to life.

“Buckley, Diaz. Come in.” Bobby’s voice came through the speaker.

Before Eddie could even think of saying anything back, Buck made sure to speak first. “We both made it out before it came down Cap. Whole place was empty, so the family must have gotten out a different exit. We’re heading back your way.”

Buck started walking back towards the trucks. They were on the far side of the building, so it wouldn’t be the quickest walk. He did not need to say anything to Eddie, knowing he would be following behind. The dull throbbing on his right side was getting worse. He could have told Bobby over the radio, but it wouldn’t have done any good. Hen and Chim could take care of it when he got back to the ambulance, as long as there weren’t any patients who needed it more. He was pretty sure he could help still. He couldn’t man the hose, but he could be in charge of the water flow. He only needed one arm for that.

“Buck. Stop. You can’t keep doing this!” Eddie shouted. He still hadn’t started to follow Buck yet. Buck kept walking. He really did not want to have this conversation right now. Based on the heavy footfalls, he didn’t get much of a choice in that. Eddie was suddenly in front of him, blocking his way forward. “We would have made it out fine, you didn’t need to risk yourself to make sure I got out.”

“We both got out fine, we need to get back to Cap to go help with the rest of the fire.” Buck was trying to keep his tone level, but he could tell he probably had a concussion. Between Eddie’s voice and all of the other sounds that came with a structure fire he knew what the pounding in his head meant. He tried to step around Eddie, but the older man moved into his way. “Eddie, we have to get back.”

“No Buck. This is the third time in the last week you’ve done something like this. I can’t keep standing by as you just keep putting yourself in harms way.” Eddie was trying to reason with him, Buck knew that. He just didn’t want to hear it. Not now at least. He could let Eddie be upset once they were back with the team.

“We have a job to do. You can yell at me later.” Buck started to walk around Eddie, but there was suddenly a searing pain in his arm. He stifled down his cry he wanted to let out, but a whimper slipped past his lips. He prayed that Eddie didn’t hear it over the other sounds. However, his luck for the day had run out.

“Are you injured? Did something catch you? Why didn’t you say anything?” Eddie’s anger turned to worry. He tried to start undoing Buck’s turnout jacket so he could inspect whatever damage it was hiding.

Buck pushed his hands away. Eddie looked hazy, but it must have been smoke from the fire. “I’m fine Eddie, Cap’s going to send someone to look for us if we spend much longer here and it’s not safe for them.”

“You always say how you hate when I’m hurt. Why can’t you understand it might be the same for me. Please just let me look.” Eddie was pleading now.

Buck got it, normally. He knew that Eddie cared. He wanted Buck to be safe. It was one of the many things he loved about Eddie. But he was in pain, and he could feel all the adrenaline crashing completely only making it worse. If he was able to think straight, he would have realized that the concussion was worse than he thought. It was a real miracle Eddie wasn’t picking up on the symptoms.

“I know it isn’t the same Eddie, and you know it.” Buck spoke through gritted teeth. An wave of nausea came over him. He swallowed the bile down. He couldn’t read the emotions in Eddie’s eyes now. Normally he could. He knew what he was looking at, but his head was fuzzy. It was just outside his grasp.

“What do you mean it isn’t the same? We’re partners. We look out for each other.” Eddie’s tone was soft. That was a bad sign. It meant he knew something was up. Buck was not going to be able to hide his injury. At this point he didn’t plan on it, but he just wanted to be away from the roaring fire.

“Because I fucking love you” Buck shouted at Eddie. Buck’s anger drained out of him, and so did his consciousness. He remembered falling to the ground. He could hear Eddie yelling at him again.

“Evan!”

Buck didn’t remember much besides flashes of the ambulance, and the bright white lights of the hospital. When he finally came back to some level of consciousness, he didn’t want to open his eyes. He did slowly crack them open. The lights in his room had been significantly dimmed. He felt floating in the way that indicated he was on the heavy painkillers. He didn’t love being on them, but from what little he remembered it was probably best to not feel whatever was going on with his shoulder. It was in a hard cast that he could feel wrapping around his torso. Must have been a pretty substantial break.

It was then Buck noticed the figure next to the bed. Eddie’s head was resting right next to his hip on his left. His head was on his left arm, his right resting on Buck’s thigh. There was still soot in his hair, indicating he stayed after the fire. Buck was shocked he hadn’t woken when Buck did. He was usually a light sleeper, especially in the hospital. The edge’s of his thoughts got hazier and hazier, probably because he needed more sleep. He laced his fingers with Eddies before falling back into his slumber.

#ty writes #buddie week 2024 #eddie diaz #evan buckley

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steviesbicrisis · 2 years

Note

Corroded coffin AU

Eddie promised himself he would moderate a little more his weed consumptions. Not quit, obviously, just avoid waking up and not remembering what he did the day before.

So, when he ends up in front of a goat, during one of their after parties, he knows he did some calculations wrong.

He pulls away the joint from his lips, just staring at the goat. Who seems to be staring back. What the fuck.

He frowns, glancing between his half-joint and the goat.

Gareth appears on his side «dude, what the fuck did you put in this?» Eddie gestures at the blunt between his fingers «I’m seeing weird shit!»

«whatever you’re hallucinating about, dude, can’t be weirder than this fucking goat»

«you see it too???» Eddie yells in Gareth’s ear, causing him to jump back.

«Jesus Fucking Christ, Munson! I need functioning ears to play!»

«How can I not yell? There’s a fucking goat at our after party!» he’s gesturing to the animal who, surprisingly, looked completely unfazed by the noise around them.

They start arguing about their dealer, then about the importance of pet care and somehow they end up discussing the constitutional rights of farm animals when two familiar teens awkwardly approach them.

«Oh, now I seriously hope I’m hallucinating because you two hellspawns shouldn’t be here! Where’s your mother?» Eddie shrieks. He knows that he will be blamed both for the goat and Dustin and Lucas' presence at their adults-only party.

«Uhm we haven’t seen him but we were just about to leave!! right, Dustin?»

«Oh yes, we wouldn’t want to impose on anyone here! We’re just taking Biquette back and-» Dustin grabs the rope tied around the goat’s neck and leans back, Eddie jumps both on his and Lucas’ shoulders, giving them no chance to escape.

«This thing is yours? Where did you get it? And why is it here» he’s using what Steve has many times defined as “parenting voice”, which seems to be working well, based on the scared looks on both boys’ faces.

«W-well, that’s not important! We’re taking him back, let’s go Biquette!» Dustin pulls at the rope, but the goat- Biquette- shows no intention of following him.

The goat seems content where it is for some reason.

«What even is a Biquette?» Eddie wonders, out loud.

«It’s a goat!» Robin appears behind Eddie and leans on his shoulder, smirking.

He jumps «what the fuck is going on today with you people appearing out of nowhere? Also, I can tell it’s a goat!»

«Dude, I walked like a normal person. You’re just high» she deadpans «and, for your information, ‘Biquette’ is goat in French. I personally suggested that name.»

«it’s called Goat the Goat?»

«Precisely.»

Eddie wants to laugh. It’s fucking ridiculous, he’s high, he’s celebrating one of the best concerts his band has ever done and the kids adopted a goat and called it Goat.

«I don’t know if Steve will be more pissed about you two being here or Baguette the Goat» Eddie wonders, bringing his half-joint to his lips once again. The situation is ridiculous enough, smoking a little more won’t change much, he tells himself.

«It’s Biquette!» Dustin, Lucas, and Robin correct him.

«Look, we just lost her after the concert and split so we could find him fast and bring her back home. But now that Biquette is safe with us we can go. Steve doesn’t need to know! Pleaseee» Dustin is using his puppy eyes on Eddie and he hates him because it is working.

«I can’t not tell him, He will find out and he would blame it all on me!»

«Eddie you can’t! Steve would make us bring back Biquette and if we do, they will kill her»

«who would kill her? What are you talking about?» He doesn’t even care about the goat, he wants to avoid making Steve mad.

Dustin and Lucas begin an intricate and very detailed description of their adventure they had before going to their concert, Eddie is kind of lost and Dustin is using too many words but he catches “not producing milk anymore” and “abattoir”. They’re describing the hardships of pushing a goat out of a small fence hole when he spots Jeff and Grant walking toward the exit with Will and Mike.

«Are you kidding me- hey! You little shits, come here!» the teens' eyes wide comically and they would've probably run off if it weren't for his bandmates.

«We were just kicking them out, they made up this ridiculous story about a goat just to stay here» Jeff informs him.

«Yeah, and we don't want to make Steve mad» Grant adds, shaking his head in fear.

Eddie wonders when his boyfriend got comfortable enough with his bandmates that he has no problem scolding them. He will never tell Steve but he actually loves it. Makes him all mushy inside and all that disgusting lovely dovely shit he feels since they got together.

He realizes he must be blocking the view of the goat and moves to the side.

«Biquette!» Will exclaims, relieved, as Grant says «the goat is real?»

Eddie can feel a very strong headache coming.

«Listen. I don't care about the tearful story of saggy old Goat the goat's rescuing, you four and not supposed to be here, that thing» he points dramatically at Biquette «definitely isn't supposed to be here and tonight I did one of my best performances yet so I deserve to get wasted, have some nice post-show sex» the four teens make disgusted noises and faces, Robin shakes turns away saying "too much info, dude!" but Eddie ignores them «and definitely not deal with this circus. So take this thing back where you stole it from and do it fast, before Steve finds out!»

«It might be too late for that. Also, bold of you to assume you'll be getting any post-show sex today.»

Eddie winces, shoulders down, and slowly turns around. Steve is behind him -seriously, what is it with everyone sneaking behind him tonight?- hands on his hips and grave look with Max and El right behind him, snickering.

«Oh, hi love! aren't you a sight for the eyes?»

«Flattery works on you Munson, not me. I'm taking the little shits home and then getting rid of that» he gestures at Biquette «because I can't have one fucking night of fun in my life, then we’ll talk about you going behind my back»

The teens erupt in protests, all of them giving their personal reason as to why they have to keep the goat "she's so cute" "they will kill her!" "we're family now!" and "the fence hole was too small, no way she can fit back there!".

Steve completely ignores them and takes the rope off of Dustin's hand, pulling towards the exit. Biquette pulls back, having no intention of leaving.

«What the fuck is wrong with this thing now? I thought the music was torturing it.»

«Actually, I think Biquette loves metal» Will points out.

«No fucking way dude» Gareth shakes his head, incredulous.

«No, Will might be right! She basically ran towards the stage before, remember?»

«Oh shit, she even ran into the party, it must’ve been because of the music!»

While they argue amongst themselves, Eddie has eyes only for Biquette. Suddenly, the goat doesn’t seem that old and saggy like before, she’s almost cute with that twitching eye and the knotted fur. Yeah the smell isn’t the best, but nothing a nice bath can’t fix, right?

«We’re keeping her» he doesn’t raise his voice, but somehow they all hear him and stop talking, looking surprised.

Steve is the one breaking the silence «no we’re not, no fucking way»

«Steve, sweetie, pleaseee» Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling the cutest face he can master «it’s a goat who loves metal! How can I let her go? She will be brutally murdered! She loves my music Stevie.»

«We can just give her to a farm and let her live the rest of her days in peace! There’s no need to adopt something else.»

«there’s absolute need!! Right guys?» he turns to his band mates, who don’t look very happy to be put in the spot.

«I mean, having a Metal Goat would be fucking cool but, Steve us to be okay with it» Grant admits and Jeff and Gareth nod along.

«Wait, what? Aren't I the leader of this band?»

«Yes, and Steve is the boss of you» Gareth deadpans, making everyone -but Eddie- laugh.

He has still his arms around Steve’s neck «Pretty pleaseee, Stevie, love of my life, Apple of my eye, pretty b-»

«Oh my God, pleas stop! We can’t Eddie!» he’s exasperated which means, Eddie realizes with a grin, he’s very close at giving up.

«I promise I will feed her, clean after her and brush her!» he adds for good measure.

He stares at Steve with a small pout until Steve sighs «okay, okay, Jesus Christ, the fucking goat will stay.»

The teens erupt in loud cheers, Lucas even hugs the goat, regretting it immediately because of the smell.

Eddie is leaving kisses all over Steve’s face, giggling.

«Yeah okay, I get it!» Steve is smiling as well «But you have to take care of her, otherwise we bring her back.»

«Of course, I will I promise!I will feed her everyday, wash her and give her a metal make over!» the last part is accompanied by cheers from the rest of the band.

«No metal makeover please, poor thing. Ugh, I cannot believe you’re adopting a goat just because she likes your music!»

«You mean, we’re adopting! I accepted the custody of six kids for you! You can accept our little Biquette here.»

Even tho his plan succeeded, Eddie keeps his arms where they rest around Steve’s neck, and Steve pulls him close placing an arm around his middle.

«Just because I accepted this crazy idea, it doesn’t mean you’re getting any action tonight, Munson.»

«actually, I just managed to convince you adopt a goat, I’d say the chances of me making you change your mind about my well deserved post-show sex are pretty high.»

Their friends make gag noises and complains, Eddie even hears Max say “c’mon Biquette, your innocent eyes cannot see this thing”.

Eddie flips them off and grossly makes out with Steve, just to annoy their friends. And because he’s still high.

What a fucking night.

Small note: thank you for this prompt, I had so much fun writing about it! I’m still laughing my ass off at the idea of a Metal Goat. Life is weird.

#steddie #bi steve harrington #gay eddie munson #steve harrington #steve and eddie #steddie headcanon #eddie munson #stranger things #platonic stobin #small fic #corroded coffin #corroded coffin au #stranger things on crack #Biquette the goat #sbc writes #ficlets #ask me anything

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child-of-hurin · 1 year

Text

Was thinking about Irene's relationship with power, went looking for these quotes and was a little surprised: I had forgotten they're literally in the same chapter, that is, Vol I chapter 5. First this:

“[Sophos] let a traitor play on his weakness, and the result of his mercy is that he is asked for even more mercy.” She finally began to work at the pins in her complicated braids, pulling them too hard, catching a few hairs with each pin and pulling anyway. “Nomenus has petitioned to be pardoned.” “Many of Sophos’s barons did worse and suffered not at all.” Eugenides crossed the room to stand behind her. Meeting his gaze in the mirror, Attolia glared. “We are kings and queens, not all-powerful gods. We cannot reward the good men and punish the bad ones just as we would prefer."

Then just a couple of pages later:

The king swung to face the queen, looked down again at his hand held to his chest. “It hurts,” he said. His voice breaking. “Serves you right,” said the queen, every word as cold as ice. “Serves me right?” said the king. Incredulous as well as angry, he said, “Serves me right?” “You dare,” said Attolia, rising to her feet like a thundercloud. “You dare impugn me.” “He was kissing you!” “He was insulting me!” “You told them to shut the doors!” the king shouted. They stood facing each other. “Why? Why?” wailed the king, until Attolia gritted her teeth and gave the answer that should have been obvious. “If I cannot kill the Pent ambassador, then neither will you.”

There's a lot these passages make me think of, besides the obvious point of the limits of power. For exemple: In her own POV passages in book 2, Irene obsessively mirrored herself in Helen; it's really great here to see her start to compare herself, as a monarch, against Sophos and Gen.

It also makes me think of gender in this book; I like how it is always so present even when it isn't... It's clear Gen and Irene both change in order to fulfill a role never meant for them, or someone like them. But they don't just change themselves, they also change the role itself in order to better fit them. All that eventually takes its toll, and it means neither is free to do as they wish.

For Gen, this compromise means a loss of freedom, but for Irene it means a gain of freedom. Being a man and a woman of the same social status, they're nonetheless coming from opposite circumstances. I think about this a lot whenever Gen's nuptial proposal of running away comes up in fandom discussions; I literally cannot imagine Irene ever accepting, or having something like that as a dream of her own... For Gen, a common married life means the loss of his social status as kin to Eddis, but he's still his own master. For Irene, a common married life means not just the loss of her social status, but the loss of any power she has managed to ever hold in the singular position of queen. A man might just be a guy, but a woman has an owner -- be it her father, her husband or her slaveowner. Irene is acutely aware of how, in some specific circumstances, there might be little difference between those.

On a tangent, I think it's very interesting that the narrative later proves Irene right in the matter of Ion Nomenus's character, but leaves judgement open as to whether it would have been better to execute him or not. He's so minor, you get the feeling it wouldn't have changed anything in the development of the war, or the story. Pardoning him or not really just ends up feeling like a matter of personal judgement. For Sophos, would killing him be justice, vengeance, or a message to other potential traitors?

Irene's mercy and cruelty are always very calculated for effect, but she vocally regrets things she feels she has to do, and things she feels she cannot do; she has a strong sense of justice, and of survival. It's all very muddled together, though: her impersonal justice, her personal vengeance, and the theatrical excesses for the sake of sending a message. For her, as it often is, killing Ion Nomenus would be all three.

#I just think it's neat #:)#marry me attolia irene #queen's thief #return of the thief #elizabeth beware

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captain--sif · 1 year

Text

You And Me And Buck

Rating T, 1.7k, Buddie, 911

Eddie asks Christopher about his feelings concerning his new attempt at dating. Chris' answer has him rethinking what he already has in his life.

A little episode coda for 6x14, mostly inspired by the clip of Eddie’s date that we had seen already before the episode aired. Read on AO3

"Are you going to see her again?"

Eddie would lie if he said that Chris’ question didn’t take him by surprise. He tries not to lie to his son, and he certainly didn’t outright lie about this, either, but he kind of did omit the fact that his hangout the evening before had been a date.

But Chris is old enough and well-versed enough in the intricacies of the English language by now, that Eddie knows that’s what he’s asking about. Are you going to go on another date with her?

The answer is no, he’s not, they both agreed on that, and he doesn’t mind that that’s the point they came to. He isn’t even particularly looking to start dating again, doesn’t think he will anytime in the near future, so he’s not exactly sure why he counters Chris’ question with his own.

"How would you feel about it if I did?"

Chris looks at him calculating, or, well, as calculating as a 12-year-old can look, pondering over an answer.

"I got used to Ana," he says finally, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with that. It’s not an endorsement, neither of Ana, nor of Eddie dating at all, but he hasn’t specifically said that he’d hate it either. "I’ll get used to her too," he adds.

"But?" Eddie prompts him to continue, "I feel like there’s a but coming." A smile creeps onto his face when he sees Chris’ own face splitting into a grin. He feels a snarky reply coming.

"But," Chris says, enunciating clearly, grinning because there was indeed a but coming, but then quickly taking on a more serious air, making clear to Eddie that he really means it, "I prefer it when it’s just you and me and Buck."

Eddie nods because Chris has made it more than clear before, when he was dating Ana, that he didn’t like him dating, but this was much less negative than before. Eddie will take that as a win, despite the way that Chris’ "you and me and Buck" has lodged itself into the outskirts of Eddie’s brain like an ear worm, begging him to acknowledge it. He will, he thinks to himself, as soon as his brain figures out how to process it.

"Well," he says instead, "it will be just us a little while longer."

"Okay." Chris smiles a tired smile up at him and Eddie takes that as his queue to get up and leave the room.

"Good night, mijo," he says and closes the door.

"Good night, dad," Christopher replies around what is without a doubt a yawn.

They’re a family, Eddie rationalizes later, when he’s lying in his own bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The three of them make up a family, and it’s one of the truest things Eddie knows about his own life. It’s not interpretation, it’s not wishful thinking, it’s not something that Chris only believes in his still-childlike convictions. It’s one of the fundamentals of the universe. It should explain all there is to Chris’ remark, since it does, and yet: Eddie can’t help but feel like there’s something he’s missing, some dimension to the remark that’s not yet encompassed by the unshakable truth of their being a family.

He’s overthinking it, Eddie is sure of that, and at the end of the night he’s not sure if it’s into Chris’ or his own intent that he’s attributing this additional information.

"I feel like I’m a divorced dad starting to date someone new again who the child disapproves of," he voices his thoughts on his shift the next day.

"I thought you said you wouldn’t see her again?" Chimney asks, just as Bobby says: "Didn’t you already clear this up with him when you were dating Ana?"

"I’m not gonna see her again," he replies to Chimney, "that was more of a hypothetical question." He shrugs. "Just trying to figure out how he’s currently feeling about it. Besides, you never know when Tia Pepa will spring something like this on me again. So I thought it’s better to be prepared."

"Do you want to date the next person she springs on you?" Eddie can hear the lifted eyebrows in Chimney’s voice without looking.

He grimaces. "No."

"And," he restarts, well aware of Bobby’s still lingering question, "I didn’t know if he ended up being okay with me dating in general, or just with Ana."

"You said he didn’t throw a salad bowl tantrum like the last time, so to me it seems like he reacted well," Hen points out, "so what are your hold-ups?"

Eddie grimaces again. "I wasn’t actually finished," he admits. He’s really glad that Buck is riding with Ravi and some of their other teammates in the other firetruck today, since he’s not sure he could say what he does after that the way he does if he wasn’t, not before he hasn’t untangled his thoughts about it. "I feel like I’m a divorced dad starting to date someone new again," he restarts, "who the child disapproves of since they want their divorced parents to stay together."

"Shannon is dead," Hen says cautiously, "he knows that."

"Yes," Eddie says, "because in this scenario my ex-wife isn’t my actual ex-wife, or even any of the other women I dated, but it’s Buck." He moves his hands in a kind of "ta-da" gesture, expressing that he finished talking.

There’s a silence in the truck that is soothing Eddie, just knowing that they know as little what to do with it as he does.

"So what," Chimney asks finally, "now you think Christopher wants you to date Buck?"

He’s obviously trying to be funny, but Eddie stays quiet, has to think about that. Because: "I hadn’t even considered that."

He sees Chimney and Hen share a look at the quiet way he breathes these words out. Eddie thinks Chimney was probably aiming for a "No, of course not," and up until this very moment Eddie would have assumed that’s what his answer would be.

But now he thinks back to the way Chris’ comment unsettled him the night before, for a reason other than the knowledge that he doesn’t want Eddie to bring someone new into their family of three, the way he tried to evoke with this little analogy he’s been telling the team.

Of all analogies he could have chosen, he chose one where he casts himself and Buck as a divorced couple. No matter how accurate to Chris’ sentiment it might be, Eddie considers that his choice of analogy might be a tell in itself. Like his weird feeling the night before.

Sensing his oncoming panic, his team seems to have chosen a different road to approach him now.

"Has he given any other indication that that’s what he wants?", Hen asks more cautiously, softer, Chimney nodding along but staying quiet, like he’s afraid he’ll make it even worse, "what did he say exactly?"

"I don’t know," Eddie admits, because he hasn’t looked for it before, hasn’t once considered it. "He just said that he prefers it when it’s just the three of us. He hasn’t said anything about dating, but what if…" he trails off.

He kind of has the urge to laugh. It feels a little ironic now. When he was with Ana, he handled dating just fine, but the idea of forming a family with her gave him panic attacks. Now, the panic is clawing at his throat again, but he can handle Buck being a part of his family just fine. In fact, he loves it. It’s still the only thing about this that feels steady. Like an anchor that, while not being able to smooth out the waves, still keeps him in place and from falling into the deepness of the troubled waters.

Just as contradictory, he now wishes that Buck had been riding with them instead of in the other engine. Eddie can clearly hear Buck’s voice in his mind asking him if he’s panicking, and he thinks it’d help calm him down, even while knowing that had Buck been here, Eddie would not be in the situation he is now.

And maybe that should have been Eddie’s first hint (or second, technically) that something was going on with him. That he realized even while telling his analogy that he would not have told it the same way if Buck had been present. He should have seen the avoidance for what it was, but then again, Eddie had always been good at avoiding and ignoring his uncomfortable thoughts.

Repression, the doctor had called it.

"If that’s what you think Chris meant, maybe you should think about why that is," Hen suggested, just as softly.

"I will," Eddie says, partly because it is true, and partly because there’s nothing else he feels able to say. He stays quiet the rest of the ride, the cogs turning in his head, only vaguely taking note of the worried looks the team are sending towards him and each other.

He does think about it. It’s the echoes of Buck’s and Dr. Salazar’s voices in his head that are spurring him on to look at what he’s feeling, and — well, mostly to look at what he wasn’t feeling. He’s taking a big long look at all the suspicious absences. All the moments where he braced himself on the rational explanations, without looking at the feelings behind or around it. And all the ordinary feelings that he paid just as little attention to for believing their origin to be obvious.

He examines all of his interactions with Buck over the last couple of months. As well as all their interactions as a family, the three of them, him and Buck and Christopher.

The conclusion he comes to is this:

Chris will not have to worry about Eddie bringing anyone else into their family any time soon, maybe ever.

Fuck.

Drop me a little kudos on AO3

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fox #911 abc #i guess wtf #eddie diaz #eddie diaz fic #fic #sif writes #911 s6 #911 season 6

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