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#making eddie 19 in this fic
kkpwnall · 7 months
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if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all
part one | rated t | 1270 words | cw: parental death
all my thanks and love to my beloved @fragilecapric0rnn for beta-reading 💜 you're a rockstar and your feedback was so so helpful
Eddie was born under a bad sign. That’s what his momma always used to say. Friday the 13th, and in October? He never really stood a chance and neither did anyone else he got close to. He was like a black cat walking across their path. 
[ keep reading below, or read on ao3 ]
His momma was first, of course. Cursed by the fate of Eddie’s birth from the very beginning. And if he hadn’t dawdled on the way home from school that day, if he had gone straight home just like he’d promised, if he hadn’t stopped to pick a bouquet of ditch weed wildflowers for her and got distracted by caterpillars and rollie-pollies— Well, maybe he would’ve been able to tell the 911 operator she was still breathing when he found her.
His daddy was next, not much long after. Eddie worshiped him like a hero in one of his fantasy stories, the charming, devil-may-care, down on his luck protagonist who stole from the rich and gave to the needy. But the first time Floyd brought him out on a real job, just the two of them, when all Eddie had to do was hot wire the getaway car after he heard the signal (three hoots like a barn owl), Eddie panicked. Did he say barn owl or barred owl? Was that two hoots or three? Why did the wires all look the same in the dark?
When the police cars painted him in their flashing red and blue lights, he dropped the wire cutters and ran. Floyd went down in a hail of bullets behind the car Eddie had been trying to steal, and Wayne got his own life sentence when the State dropped Eddie on his doorstep.
Uncle Wayne got the worst of it, obviously. Working himself to the bone, nights and weekends, to put Eddie through school. Not to mention senior year for a second and third goddamn time.
It was too late by the time young Eddie figured it out. By the time he decided to keep everyone at arm’s length.
It’s safer that way, for everyone.
Chrissy was just the latest in a long line. And he’d only lowered his guard an inch, a millimeter, when he saw someone just as lonely and desperate for a friend. He’d only barely started to let himself have an inkling of what an actual friendship with her might be like when—
This is exactly why Eddie doesn’t have friends. He has minions. He has little lost sheepies, he has twerps and shrimps. And that’s it. That’s enough. It has to be enough.
But all that changes the day he dies.
Or maybe it’s the day he finally wakes up. His new birthday, welcomed to the world once again in a cold, bright, sterile hospital room.
And really, the way he sees it, it’s all Henderson’s fault.
The little shit wanders in every day at visiting hours and makes himself right at home. He props his cast up on Eddie’s bed, and steals the remote to change the channel on the ancient, minuscule tv over to cartoons, and then he just… camps out! All day!
The kid will not leave him alone, no matter how cold a shoulder Eddie tries to give him. He even broke down and explained everything to him. How he’s bad luck, he’s bad news. And people who get too close to him end up dead.
But maybe the painkillers they’ve got him on scrambled his brain as bad as the bats scrambled his guts, because Dustin steamrolls right over him.
“If curses were real, which they aren’t,” he posits in his professor voice, “Your dumb curse can’t try to kill me again. It already took a shot and it missed, and the worst I got was a busted ankle.”
Eddie opens his mouth to tell Dustin that’s not how curses work but—
“And what was its goal anyway? To get you alone and friendless, dead in a ditch? Well then, mission accomplished!”
Which is… weirdly comforting when he puts it like that.
Dustin brings with him a rotating cast of the rest of the fellowship. Eddie finally gets to meet Baby Byers and finds out he’s already been recruited to Hellfire before Eddie can even say hello.
More often than not, Steve tags along too since he’s already ferrying them all between the hospital and home. Usually after he’s spent some time with Red and the other kids in her room, he’ll drop by. To check on Dustin of course.
It’s not because he likes Eddie. Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t even know him.
All that… before… it was just some harmless flirting to keep himself from completely losing it while he was on the run from homicidal bible-thumpers. And Steve was just humoring him.
So he hides behind stupid flirtatious remarks, easy to brush off when it’s always undercut with sly winks and salacious expressions. Enough to keep everything surface level. Keep him at arms length.
It doesn’t matter that his eyes still seem to linger on Eddie, even when he hasn’t said anything for a while. Or that he brings Eddie extra pudding cups from the cafeteria. It doesn’t mean anything when he stands in the doorway trying to finish one last story or joke, until the kids almost literally have to drag him out when visiting hours are over.
Because it turns out Steve is an incorrigible gossip. And Eddie’s not about to be the one to corrige him. Not when he brings an extra dr. pepper for Eddie every time he stops by the vending machine for a coke and gleefully tells Eddie which of the doctors, nurses, and shady government agents are sleeping together.
A can of coke he taps on the lid with a peculiar rhythm before he cracks it, every time.
“What’s up with that?” Eddie finally has to ask one day, when it’s just the two of them and the Price is Right.
Steve hums this confused little sound at him, tilting his head with furrowed brows as he takes the first sip.
Eddie repeats the pattern, tapping it out on his own can.
Steve blinks a few times, first at Eddie, then at the can in his hand.
“I didn’t even realize I did that,” he huffs out a laugh. “It’s uh… something my grandpa taught me when I was a kid. Y’know just for luck.”
The blood in Eddie’s veins freezes and he’s stuck like that for a painfully long moment. Propped up against the lumpy hospital pillows with his mouth half open, staring at Steve.
“For luck.” he says flatly.
“Yeah, so the fizz doesn’t explode when you open it.”
“And has that ever happened to you?” Aiming for flirty, aiming for scathing, aiming for anything that’s not desperation.
“Well no,” Steve says with an easy shrug and a conspiratorial smile, “that’s why it’s lucky. It’s like picking up a coin that’s face-down on the sidewalk.”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s face-up, darlin,” Eddie says coyly, like every alarm bell in his head isn’t ringing a deafening cacophony.
“Nah see, you gotta leave those ones for someone who really needs the luck.”
“But then you get the bad luck.”
“Nah, doesn’t work that way,” Steve says, and fucking winks at him.
Eddie wants to shake him. What is wrong with him? He’s got it all backwards and it’s dangerous. How is he walking around like this?
Whatever, it’s not his problem. Steve can do whatever Steve wants. Eddie doesn’t need to protect him from himself. It’s not like they’re friends. And really, that’s the best way to protect him.
[ part two ]
[ also on ao3 ]
124 notes · View notes
feralsteddie · 1 year
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I feel like we don’t embrace the fact that Steve and Eddie are teenage/barely not teenage boys enough
185 notes · View notes
queers-gambit · 2 years
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Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses
prompt: when Eddie confesses he wants to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom, you start coughing out flower petals.
pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 8.8k [got a bit carried away]
note: given ages aren't confirmed in the show, let's establish that Chrissy is 17-18 years old, and Eddie's 19. reader's 18.
warnings: Hanahaki Disease ([Japanese folklore] fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when suffering from one-sided love), cursing, angst, seemingly unrequited love, but things work out! ✅ no spoilers
other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease fics: Tears in the Rain Gone with the Sin
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Like every other Friday night, you hitched a ride back to his trailer with Eddie as you had nowhere else to be. Well, probably wasn't true as you were a social butterfly with plenty of prospective friends to hang out with, but your favorite place on any given day was always with Eddie.
He was home, he was safety, he was warmth, he was what you needed after either a really bad, or even a really good day.
Eddie had this superpower where he could either turn your bad mood around or he could increase your happiness tenfold. He was next to never upset or angry or frustrated, he was content to vibe in a constant state of "chill".
Your feelings for him might've started around your sophomore year, when he decked Jason Carver in the jaw for making you uncomfortable. Even to this day - it was one of the only times you've seen him angry, and the fact that it was because Jason was flirting with you made your heart lift. It spurred the hate between the two boys, but only solidified your everlasting friendship with Eddie. Yet, you buried these feelings out of fear of rejection, and change - you didn't want things to change.
You liked things where they were.
But it was getting harder to pretend you didn't like your best friend. As if everything he did didn't make you feel silly, stupid, and giddy all at once.
As if those wide, brown, doe eyes didn't make you melt, yet simultaneously make you feel stronger than before. A single look from him could give you enough confidence for a week.
As if his antics, pet names, hand holds, late night cuddle sessions when you were feeling lonely didn't put your stomach in knots but send you heart up to the sky, like if was filled with helium.
However, you were content because you never wanted to lose him. So, you'd suffer through whatever this was if it meant he stayed close. Despite the heaviness in your chest, you continued to pretend nothing was wrong because if Eddie picked up on it, he would surely hound you until you confessed - something you couldn't handle.
So, you curled up beside him in his (stained) bed with your head leaning on his shoulder as his hands distracted themselves by fiddling with the strings on his acoustic guitar while you nursed the joint between your lips. You were content to simply exist with him; be in his presence and listen to his musical talents. Occasionally, your hand would raise the joint to his lips, allowing him to take his own hit and for the peacefulness to prolong.
Things were good - like they've been for the past few years of being "best friends". I mean, yeah, you knew Eddie before the "Jason incident", but you were just a Freshman that only knew the town's Freak from a distance. You had two classes together. Often saw him at lunch. Sometimes gave him notes if he missed class. And ever since that day that he protected you from Jason's creepy moves, you've been thicker than thieves.
Things were quiet in his room outside of the occasional crackling of the joint's end, and his lazy strumming; things were peaceful; things were good.
Until Eddie sighed and leaned back to the wall behind you both, interrupting the simple thoughts in your head.
"What's up?" You asked quietly, turning to ash the joint in the plastic tray on his bedside table. "Huffin' pretty loud over there, pretty boy, I can practically hear you overthinking."
"It's stupid," he chuckled, focusing on the strings beneath his fingertips again. "Don't even think about it."
"I doubt it's nothing," you countered. "C'mon, you tell me any and everything."
"I, uh... I don't know how to tell you this thing, though..."
Now you were curious, "You kill someone?"
"What? No! God!"
"Gotta hide a body?"
"Not this weekend."
Nodding, you asked, "You fuck my mom?"
"Not yet, but can't say it's not on my to-do list," he teased lightly.
"Then I don't know what scenario there could be that you're too scared to tell me," you chuckled, smoking wafting in the thin air between you both, lingering from the lack of circulation. "C'mon, cutie, what's up with you? You don't usually hold back."
He sighed, the strings plucking harshly as he his head flopped back now. "It's just... Have you given any thought to prom?"
"Prom?" You repeated with a small laugh. "Not entirely, I don't know. Why? Thinking of crashing it?"
But he was silent, which made you a little nervous. You sat up and turned to face him head-on, your criss-crossed legs resulting in one knee pressing to his thigh. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a subtle shake from his head assured you that he changed his mind.
"Are you going?" he asked softly instead.
"Um, nobody's asked so I don't know. I'd like to, maybe," you tried to joke. "Why? You offering?"
He chuckled lowly, "Uh, well, I would be, if..."
"If?"
He gulped, "You know Chrissy?"
Of course you knew Chrissy Cunningham, who didn't? You didn't live under a rock, for God's sake. She was the designated 'it girl' of Hawkins, the 'queen' as people dubbed her - a sweet girl who was captain of the cheer squad that had an impeccable smile. Adorable strawberry blonde hair. A petite body, sweet voice, and of course, she'd been Eddie's crush since middle school. Yeah, you knew Chrissy Cunningham.
"Yeah," you breathed, nodding slowly. "What about her?"
"Well, I uh... I was thinking of asking her to prom. You know, before we graduate and get the fuck out of this town... Thought maybe I'd try my hand, you know? See if... See if something could finally happen."
You swear your ears started ringing because no way you heard him correctly, right? No way he was telling you he was going to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom - no way. There wasn't any way. After all, the plan since about a year ago was that you would go together pending no other offers. No way the guy you've been in-love with for fucking YEARS was telling you he wanted to ask someone else.
And Eddie didn't know, but about 8 different guys had already asked you but you didn't want to go with them. You wanted Eddie to ask you - you wanted to spend a night of teenage normalcy with your best friend, and maybe get the chance to confess your feelings for him on the dance floor. Maybe you'd dress to match. Maybe he'd even get you a corsage - but Eddie wasn't the type.
So, why was he thinking about asking Chrissy? High school thriving Chrissy? Who would definitely want the stereotypical high school experience? Like - prom with a pretty dress, lots of laughter, her date giving her a corsage as her mom snapped pictures.
She would want all that, right? Would Eddie be the right date to give it to her?
You were honestly shocked he wanted to even go due to the idea that anything socially conforming was out of bounds for him. And when you made that pact, it was mostly out of a joke but you had hoped this whole time he was being serious. And he was being serious about prom, but not with you...
"Sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, his brows now furrowed in concentration. "You okay? You look a little shaky."
Instantly, you nodded. "Yeah, totally, just, um... Just remembered I have this huge essay due Monday, yeah, uh-huh, yep. I should probably get started on it." Eddie's brows now fully crinkled as you jerked your leg away from his when his hand moved to lay on it, turning and instantly finding your belongings scattered around the floor of his bedroom. "Um, yeah, so, as for prom and Chrissy - I think it's cute. You should ask her, she'd be stupid to say no."
Eddie watched you tug your shoes on in haste, sitting up, "Hey, slow down, speed racer, I'll drive you - "
"No, it's cool," you assured swiftly, tugging your jacket on to combat the chill of the spring night. "I need the exercise."
Eddie scoffed, "I'm not letting you walk."
"I don't want a ride, Eddie," your voice took on an uncharacteristic hardened tick, something you've never had to use with Eddie. But you couldn't help it, your chest was caving in and lungs burning the longer you stayed there. "I just wanna walk for a bit, clear my head before homework, okay?"
He nodded slowly, "You sure, doll?"
"Positive."
Eddie frowned when your bag was tugged up your shoulder, turning from his room and jumping when he called, "Wait!"
Praying to God he was going to tell you he changed his mind and he wanted to ask you to prom - not Chrissy - you turned to look back to him. But he only pouted, "Don't leave without sayin' goodbye, sweetheart, c'mere."
Fearing the wet sensation coating your throat, you just backed up to the door and blindly reached for the doorknob, "You'll see me later, Eds. I've gotta go."
"Call me when you get home?" He asked, standing from his bed when you pulled his bedroom door open and moved out into the hall of his trailer. "Hey, hey, honey, what's the rush?" Eddie called, jogging a couple steps to follow after you.
"Just gotta go, Eds," you couldn't face him. But something tickled your throat and nose, prompting you to ask, "Um, do you have any tissues?"
He nodded, watching you pause by the front door before turning for the bathroom. A moment later, he returned with a box and handed it over, "Take it. I'm sure your allergies are acting up."
You nodded, "Thanks."
"Wait - "
But you were out the door and surging down the steps of his 'porch', turning on the gravel and making for the main road. Eddie watched you go from his front door, worrying over whatever he'd said, but after wracking his mind, he couldn't understand. He didn't need to know your chest was so painful, you debated if you were having a heart attack at 18; making you desperate to get away from him if it meant the pain would lessen.
You cried the whole walk home. The 8-minute car ride was actually a 41 minute walk due to the tightness in your chest, the tissue box tight in your hand as your lungs started to itch, burn, constrict themselves.
The coughing started that night. The entire walk, you used tissue after tissue to cough into and would ignore the flecks of color present against the soft white, shoving them down into your bag.
When you arrived home, the house was, as usual, empty. Steve Harrington used to hang out a lot with you due to how often both of your parents are out of town but once he started dating Nancy Wheeler, all visits stopped. Granted they were broken up now, he still didn't come back, and you were forced to get used to the loneliness. It left room for Eddie to slide into his place, often coming over to keep you company as being home alone for so long often made you nervous.
Eddie hated you feeling nervous, so, he had a couple of shirts and pants at your house for him to change into when he stayed the night. Now that he was going to make a move on Chrissy Cunningham, it made you think there wouldn't ever be other sleepovers. You worried he would never come back to your home, and an ice pick was conjured to stab through my heart.
In your room, you tossed your bag to your bed and groaned when it bounced off and spilled the contents over the floor. Shaking your head, you coughed a couple more times and got ready for bed; but soon, the coughing turned violent.
Kneeling over, your throat burned with crushing pain as your chest felt too tight with pressing tension. The heaviness was back, sitting right on your sternum and causing a twisting discomfort when you hurled into the toilet bowl. However, when your watery eyes opened, they were staring straight into clear water that was peppered with tiny little florals with swirls of bright red blood.
Panting in shock, confusion inked into your mind as you stood shakily to your feet and rushed for your bag again, pushing through the belongings to find the used tissues. Panic swelled in your chest when the tissues found, too, were coated in petals and blood.
"What?" you whispered to yourself, fear taking over. However, instead of doing the rational thing, like go to the hospital, you just threw the tissues away, flushed the rest, and curled up in bed out of exhaustion and draining adrenaline. Sobs wracked your lungs, making your body convulse and for the coughing to get worse.
You didn't move all weekend. You couldn't, for the pain was too great in your heart, mind, and body. Even when the phone rang multiple times through those two days, you couldn't care enough to get out of bed and answer it to see whatever was wanted from you. When the next Monday came around, you forced yourself to get in the shower and wake up from the cold water; getting dressed and heading out the front door to spy Eddie's van at the base of your driveway.
You sighed and made sure there were extra tissues in your bag as you made for his passenger door. When you hopped in, you were greeted with a glare.
"How was the essay?" he grits.
"Fine," you sighed, knowing it was a lie to make your swift escape, and leaned your arm on the door to prop your head up and stare out the window.
"Mhm. Thanks for letting me know you got home safe," he snipped. "Not like I was driving around at 1 am to make sure you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere."
You nodded slowly, "I forgot, I-I'm sorry."
"You forgot?" he repeated before scoffing. But when he glanced over and noted the heavy bags under your distant (watery) eyes, he frowned, "Hey? Y-You okay?"
"Mhm."
"Your nose is bleeding."
"Shit," you hissed, reaching for a tissue, and trying to mop up the blood from under both nostrils. "It's nothing," you tried to explain, sniffling a few times, and noting how sharp the action made your chest. Like something was stabbing through you, perhaps that ice pick again.
He shook his head, leering, "Suuuuure, mhm, okay." But when you didn't respond for another 3 minutes, he was annoyingly asking, "The hell's up with you?"
"Nothing, Eddie."
"Bullshit! You haven't looked at me once, didn't even greet me when you got in, and now you're sitting there, silent as the grave."
You only shrugged, not knowing how to put it in words, "Just tired, Eddie."
"Bullshit," he sighed. "But fine, if you don't want to talk, that's whatever. Just continue ignoring me, I guess."
Your eyes shut as you sighed, whispering, "I'm sorry."
"Why? What'd you do?"
Only shrugging, your head shook, and you sat up when you two made it to school. The moment the car stopped - not even in park - you were opening the passenger door and hopping out to take desperate gulps of fresh air. You waited a moment as Eddie got out, too, and just as his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders to lead you into school, his attention was caught by someone else.
"Oh, there's Chrissy," he smiled, seeing the pretty cheerleader at her car. "Should I do it now?"
Gulping, you shrugged, "Do whatever makes you happy, Eds."
Eddie didn't understand what he did wrong to deserve your cold shoulder but figured he could talk to you later before making a beeline for Chrissy while you made for the front of the school. You ignored peers around you as you stuffed books and such into your locker, wheezing into a tissue when coughing took over.
A few other students paused to look at you with concern; you hand slamming to a closed locker as you couldn't draw breath in. The pain was suffocating, and the coughing made you nearly double over.
Robin paused at the sight, making her way over to you and just before she could ask if you were okay, she was gasping lightly. Looking up, you saw what caught her attention to spy Eddie Munson entering school with Chrissy Cunningham daintily hanging off his arm. Jason's glare was most prominent, but your best friend’s was much, much fiercer, and you? You had to look away because the ice pick was now hacking at your heart; palpitations making your chest throb with white-hot tension.
"Oh, no," Robin paused, glancing at you to see tears already in your eyes as your hands shook. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry - "
"Why?" You sniffled, shaking your head. "Doesn't matter, they look happy, right?"
"You don't," she whispered.
"Doesn't matter," you repeated. "I'll see you later, Rob."
She frowned as you charged away, watching you go as Eddie and Chrissy came to a halt beside her. "She say what was wrong with her?" Eddie asked the girl softly.
"No," Robin grit her teeth, offering him a stale up and down look. Though, she was slightly impressed Eddie bagged the popular cheerleader, she knew of your feelings for the metalhead, and huffed through her nose before taking off down the hall after you.
"Is everyone mad at me now?" He asked, looking down to the girl he'd successfully asked to prom.
"I'm not," Chrissy chirped with a soft smile.
So, here's the whole thing. Even though you've denied it for years, your friends knew DAMN well how in-love with Eddie you were. Robin had been the only one to really pick up on it a few years ago but kept quiet because of how close you and Eddie were. However, when you sat down for lunch, the Hellfire Club were ready to ask what was wrong when they saw their Dungeon Master enter the cafeteria with Chrissy.
They offered you looks of pity, understanding your behavior now.
Your hands started to shake, and you coughed harshly, bending at the waist to cough into a tissue half under the table. From beside you, Dustin caught a glimpse of pink and red in the tissue as your hand fisted over it and sniffled hotly. "Are you okay?" Gareth asked in concern, his wide eyes looking ready to shed tears. "You're sweating."
"Yeah," you whispered, catching sight of Eddie and Chrissy heading for your table. "Um, I-I forgot I have a test to make up in Spanish, so, I'll see you guys later, okay?" You rushed, picking up your untouched tray of food and shouldered your bag.
Before any of them could protest, you were tossing the tray and racing out of the opposite doors Chrissy and Eddie had come in through. You vaguely heard Eddie calling your name, never turning around, and shoving out of the doors.
You gasped when the fresh air hit you, not caring that you lied about some test and now headed down for the field. You didn't care if someone picked up on your lie. You didn't care about anything other than the crushing feeling in your chest; the way your lungs felt deflated, and how your throat was consistently wet from blood.
Robin had seen your abrupt departure and left Nancy Wheeler's side to follow you. When she found you under the bleachers, coughing and throwing up with tears down your cheeks, she knew something was wrong. Robin crawled under the bleachers, not caring about the trash or debris left, to reach your side and hold your hair back.
"Oh, my God," she wobbled, catching sight of the puddle under you. "W-What the hell is that?"
You panted, a string of blood hanging from your lips before falling to the saliva beneath you. "I-I think... I think something's wrong, Robin."
"No shit!" She hissed. "Let me take you to the nurse - "
"No, it's fine," you insisted, using another tissue to wipe at the blood under your nose. "I uh... I think I know what's going on."
"What?"
"We'll need to go to the library first," you nodded before shaking your head. "No, never mind, y-you should go back to class."
"Nope," she insisted. "I'll go to the library with you. Want me to call Steve? Get us a ride?"
You sniffled and nodded, tugging your bent knees into your chest as she nodded and begged you to stay put before dashing for the outside payphone. She felt anger as her eyes cast through the glass windows of the cafeteria, catching sight of Chrissy and Eddie laughing away with the rest of the Hellfire Club. Her fingers roughly punched in Steve's number and insisted he come pick you and her up. "Right fucking now, dingus!"
About 9 minutes later, Eddie had glanced out of the windows and caught the distance sight of Robin holding you in her arms and walking you (slowly) to Steve Harrington's trademark BMW.
His brows furrowed in confusion and concern before Chrissy's sweet voice was distracting him. In fact, he might've let himself get swept up in the sweetness of Chrissy - that he forgot you. The girl he's wanted since middle school was finally in his grasp but in order to do that, he had to let you go - resulting in cherry blossoms to sprout in your lungs.
The moment he made up his mind about Chrissy was the moment your fate was sealed. And after a trip to the library with Steve and Robin, you had your answer as to what was going on. It didn't make sense, but you understood there were three options for you at this point.
Option One: die. Literally, that was it. Let this disease kill you. Okay, then Option Two: get Eddie to love you back... And that was seemingly farfetched and way out of asking range. Third Option was to undergo a surgery, but according to literature, choosing this surgery would save your life but erase Eddie Munson from your memory. It was the only way to stop the pain besides dying from it or make someone to fall in love with you.
But that wasn't real love, was it?
So, you checked the book out and Steve drove you home.
You thought you could handle things, after all, the book said it could be manageable. So, you soldiered on and played everything off the next Monday as if you had some head cold making you a bit off, and not literal florals blooming in your fucking lungs.
Eddie didn't question it because he was too excited to tell you that Chrissy had said yes. She said yes - to him! To prom! And she was going to wear red, his favorite color. He was so shocked, it made you want to weep a little because Eddie Munson seemed to be the only one (minus Jason Carver) to not understand how amazing Eddie Munson truly was...
Well, maybe the rest of the school body didn't understand either, but that was beside the point. Eddie was always too hard on himself and hearing how shocked and happy he was that Chrissy said yes, just made you honestly sad. He didn't even know how loved he was, making the self-deprivation very real. It was once upon time ago that your job was to help him out of those ruts, but now it would be Chrissy's responsibility.
You knew if he was yours, you wouldn't let a single day go by where he thought he was inadequate. But he wasn't yours, and now that he had Chrissy, you knew he never would be.
Your throat swelled and more petals were coughed into a tissue in your hand when you realized that you'd bought a prom dress (in case Eddie did ask you) about a month ago, and it, too, was red. Yet, he was going to match Chrissy and you'd wasted $150 on a pretty, silk dress... And new heels because your mother insisted you feel (and look) like a princess.
You tried to be excited and happy for him, but it was hard to when Eddie was enraptured with Chrissy. You coughed more in that week than when you had that terrible flu 2 years ago.
When that Friday rolled around, you were heading for his van (like usual), only to find him and Chrissy waiting on you.
"Hey," you greeted cautiously, smiling at the pretty girl you never really had a full conversation with.
"Hey," Eddie smiled - and you noted the lack of pet name. "Uh, you ready to go?"
"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, glancing at Chrissy again.
He understood your nonverbal question. "I'm thinking I'll drop you off at home first. Cool?" Eddie offered, looking at you as his arm snaked around Chris' waist.
Confusion warped into your voice, "Um, i-it's Friday?"
"Yeah," he nodded.
"I-I thought we hung out on Fridays? Like, every Friday?"
Eddie's other hand rose to rub the back of his neck, "Well, yeah, usually, but I'm taking Chrissy out on a date, so, I'll have to drop you off first."
"Oh," your eyes widened, and you felt so fucking stupid in that moment. "Shit, okay, my bad," you backed away, "I can get another ride, it's no big deal. Have fun on your date!"
"Hey, no, don't be ridiculous," Eddie shook his head, taking a tentative step forward as if he was nervous to leave Chrissy's side and approach you. "I take you home every day, c'mon. It's nothing, get in the van. I always take you home."
But you felt sick over the petty idea of sitting in the back while Chrissy took your seat in Eddie's car... Your place in Eddie's life.
Your head shook and a half-smile was forced over your lips. "No, it's seriously okay. You guys should go, it's cool. Have fun, okay?"
Eddie frowned, "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"
"Sure," you whispered, turning finally, and hustling your steps back for the school. Your hand balled in a fist to catch the splatter of blood and petals that shot out of your mouth, trying to shake the sick off so nobody would notice.
Light pink petals danced to the pavement behind you, and your heart plummeted with it as Eddie's van tires squealed when he peeled out of the carpark.
Robin was still at school and agreed to give you a ride home with Steve and Dustin Henderson; the two sharing looks of concern for you the entire drive. They kept asking if they could do anything, but the truth was, they could see the life slowly draining from you, and knew they couldn't do anything.
You didn't answer Eddie's call that night. You didn't let him drive you to school, either, since he'd been busy with Chris that all your conversations now revolved around the girl. This didn't mean he didn't come pick you up, but you usually always opted for the bus to "catch up on reading." You didn't hang out on Fridays either, because it was "date night with Chrissy", and you didn't sit at the Hellfire Club table at lunch.
It went on like this for another three weeks. Eddie replaced you with Chrissy, and she was everywhere you looked. You stopped going to lunch all together in an effort to save yourself from the sight of Eddie's arm around the pretty, popular cheerleader; instead, coughing out cherry blossoms under the bleachers and then forcing a smile on your lips like nothing happened.
The time you did spend together (a minuscule amount of time in comparison), Eddie would fill the space between you with chatter about how amazing Chrissy was - unaware of the pain he was causing you.
Unaware that every word strangled air and rational thought from you.
Unaware that you often held your breath to save you from the pain; to save you from bursting into tears; to save you from yelling at your best friend that you didn't care he finally bagged his crush.
Eddie was going mad, however. He didn't understand your distance, but he also didn't do anything to rectify the situation. He just figured you were going through something, and you'd show up at his trailer soon; tears down your cheeks as his arms open to welcome you.
He started to count the day since he last touched you. Eddie began to feel as if maybe he'd done the right thing by choosing Chrissy due to how far you pulled away from him. He's loved you for years but never admitted or confronted the feelings; so, he convinced himself to let you go in pursuit of Chrissy. So, to save himself from rejection of the most important person in his life, he thought it was a "safer rejection" by asking Chrissy.
He was just shocked she accepted, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was just to piss Jason off. Eddie didn't mind being her distraction because Chrissy was his distraction from you.
When the week of prom rolled around, you couldn't get out of bed because you were in excruciating pain in your heart and mind. Your mother had left on another business trip and only left a stack of cash for "emergencies", telling you she loved you, and never noticing your overflowing waste bin of bloody tissues. So, when Eddie rolled up that Monday, he was confused when you didn't come outside for a few minutes. He beeped, waited longer, beeped again - louder - before confusion troubled his heart.
He knew you were upset and distant, he knew you "liked" riding the bus now; but he also knew you weren't out of your house, yet. He planned on showing up earlier than the time you left, because he wanted to ensure you drove to school together - like usual.
Eddie got out of his van and approached your door, knocking repeatedly but never receiving an answer.
When he got to school, Chrissy told him to call your house and check on you - standing with him, as all he did was listen to the dial tone of a connecting call. You never answered.
At lunch, Eddie found Robin and asked her if she spoke to you at all this past weekend. She glared, "What? You didn't?"
"No," Eddie admitted, "I-I was with Chrissy the whole - "
Robin's eyes rolled and she stood abruptly, making Eddie take a step back. "Forgive me while I go vomit," Robin deadpanned, casting a single glare over his shoulder to the strawberry blonde before pushing past them both.
Eddie asked Hellfire what he'd done - but none of them had an answer. "She's not been looking well," Dustin mentioned. "Keeps coughing out blood."
"What?" Eddie asked, rigid with fear.
Dustin nodded slowly, "I don't think she knows I know, but Steve gave her a ride with us, and her tissues are all bloody."
"She's coughing out blood?" Gareth asked sadly, Dustin nodding. "That's not good, we should get her to a hospital."
"She won't go," Dustin frowned. "I heard Robin trying to convince her, but she keeps saying she's fine."
"She's not fine," Eddie growled.
"Obviously," Lucas rolled his eyes. "She's also not sat with us for weeks."
"She's been avoiding everyone," Jeff added sadly.
"Wonder why," Lucas sneered, casting a glare at his Dungeon Master.
"Am I supposed to know what you're insinuating, Sinclair?" Eddie snipped.
"Aren't you her best friend? Shouldn't you know that she's sick - instead of hearing it from Dustin?"
Eddie shrugged, "So, what? I haven't been able to track her every move. I've been busy - "
"With Chrissy," Dustin and Lucas chimed together; Lucas rolling his eyes before stabbing a green bean forcefully.
"We know," the Freshman 'all-star' basketball player rolled his eyes, pushing his tray away and glaring to the tabletop.
"What did I do?" Eddie asked, looking to his comrades with earnest confusion.
None of them answered because nobody knew what was really wrong. All your friends (including outside of Hellfire) felt concern fester because you were never forthcoming with problems. You never asked for help - it was something observed by others before they're offering you a hand. So, if you were going through something, they knew you'd handle it alone until you couldn't anymore and would confide in them.
Eddie grew increasingly frustrated as time went. For you, time was slower than ever, and you were forced to live through each painful retch and convulsion of your muscles. You laid in bed; a bloody projectile pattern splattered across your sheets; dotted with sticky, pretty petals.
The night of prom rolled around, and you were knelt in front of your toilet again. It had gotten worse; Dustin phoning you every day to update you on school, and unconsciously complaining about how much time Eddie and Chrissy were spending - causing a riff in the group. You tried to assure the Freshman that it was a new and exciting relationship for them both, but Dustin voiced his concerns after spying Chrissy speaking with her ex, Jason Carver.
The vomiting got worse after Dusty's phone call. Acid burned your nose and your throat wept for relief; finding only more pain as the toilet bowl before you decorated with not just your blood, but actual buds of flowers. You knew naturally that cherry blossoms didn't have thorns, but there, before you, were floating pieces of your flesh that was cut from the sharp floral.
You sobbed the whole night. Your chest was ready to cave in and the vomiting, nor pain, wouldn't stop. You wondered if this was how it ended for you - alone, on prom night, coughing out blood while the rest of the town got their romantic night.
Fuckers, you thought bitterly.
But then - the weirdest fucking thing happened. Amid vomiting more buds and thorns, your chest started to feel a little clearer and you could cough the rattling wetness from your lungs. There was just slight relief, but enough for you to draw in harsh breaths. You panted and spat out another bloom, trying to ignore how oddly poetically beautiful this was - to die by a fucking flower strangling you. Your body was thinner in the weeks since your turmoil started, throat too raw to pass any food as your lungs were stuffed with petals. It made living harder.
It made getting out of bed physically impossible.
It made your feet numb.
Your chest to ache.
Your head to throb.
And your stomach to knot itself.
Sweat pooled over your brow and your hand rose to wipe at your nose, smearing blood over your cheek. More vomiting. More pain. More petals and blooms and thorns and blood.
It felt like it'd never end but that was the most justice you had - that this would kill you because you couldn't let go of the love you had for Edward Munson. Love that would last a lifetime - or until it killed you.
Seemed like a fate closer than graduation.
You were startled when knuckles began rapping on your window as another violent purge overtook you. Shaking and sobbing, you ignored whoever had climbed up to your window because you were so focused on keeping your hair back as you purged.
The rapping turned into full-on pounding; the glass pane shaking.
The blossoms were bigger now. Thicker. Small, wee little stems on them that only added to your pain. Petals were left behind on your tongue and sticking to your cheeks; throat bleeding into your stomach from the way thorns shredded it up and down.
"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart," you recognized Eddie's voice over the sounds of your retching. "Oh, my God, my sweet girl. Shit, you're okay, you're okay, I got you," he assured quietly, taking your hair in his hands to hold back as another wave racked through your body. "You're okay, let it out," he soothed, sitting on the lip of the bathtub, and rubbing your back.
You sniffled and spat the remaining petals from your mouth, using your arms to cover the toilet bowl and block his sight. "W-What're you doing here?" You asked through a thick tongue.
"Your window was open, I let myself in." He reached out for the toilet paper and pulled a bit off, gingerly reaching up and wiping the blood from your lips. "A-Are those petals?" He asked in shock, looking at the toilet tissue.
"Why're you here, Eddie?" You asked again, turning to close the toilet lid and rest your head on it. The cool porcelain felt nice on your feverish skin.
"Where else would I want to be?"
You scoffed, "Just fuck off back to Chrissy, I know that's where you want to be."
It was quiet as sweat dried on your skin and created a new cooling sensation across your tired muscles. "Why're you throwing up blood and petals?"
"Why are you here?" You snapped, lifting your head to glare at him. "If I wanted you around, I would've called."
"Haven't called me in weeks."
"Then maybe I don't want you around. Just go - get out," you grit, turning away from him again. "This is hard enough without you fucking here. Get out."
It was quiet as Eddie didn't move, your chest rattling with every labored breath to make it sound like a wheeze. It caused a new wave of violent coughing, Eddie's eyes widening when you appeared to choke on something in your throat, toilet lid lifted as your fingers crammed in the back of your throat.
From this position, Eddie could make out the blood and blooms floating in the water, flinching when you threw up blood - a sight he'd never wanted to see again. Thorns cut your mouth and lips, making you whimper in sheer pain as your chest was ready to cave in finally. Sweat coated your skin again, and Eddie refused to leave your side. He watched you as your body shook with each retch; how the color of blood stained your lips like expensive make-up.
When you panted and threw yourself back to the wall behind you, Eddie reached out and started to wipe blood from your nose, mouth, chin, and cheeks.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.
"Tell you what?" You wheezed.
"That you were sick."
You scoffed, "Would it have mattered? You're too busy with Chrissy."
He shook his head, "We broke up."
Now this - this shocked you. Your brows furrowed, "It's prom night."
"Mhm."
"All you wanted was to go to that stupid fucking dance with her," you pointed out with a glare.
Eddie nodded, "I thought so, too. Until we got there, and I realized that I was with the wrong girl... I thought I wanted to be with her, she was unobtainable and has been my crush for years..."
"Guessing the real thing didn't compare with your imagination?" You sneered, rolling your eyes. "Big fucking deal, Eddie - "
"No, no, I uh... I just, we got there, and I wanted it to be you."
Something in your chest twisted.
"That's not funny," your eyes rolled again.
"I'm not joking. I wanted to be with you all night - hell, every day of the past few weeks that you've been avoiding me, I just wanted to be with you. Why did you pull away from me? Was it that shitty to see me and Chris together?"
You admitted, "Yes."
"What?"
You chuckled dryly, "It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
"Why?"
"Because I love you."
And there it was... "Yeah," You whispered, "love me like a best friend, right - " Only, the words were gargled as you leaned forward and puked violently.
"No, sweetheart," Eddie frowned, holding your hair again. "Shit, this isn't good, baby, we need to get you to a hospital."
"No," You groaned into the bowl.
"Please," he begged, other hand coming to soothe up and down your back. "You're in pain, and - "
"It doesn't matter, Eddie," you coughed again, sticking your tongue out to pick a few petals off. They fell to the water, a sightly morbidly beautiful image as thick blood swirled.
"It does matter! To me, it does!"
"Why!?"
"Because - Jesus Christ!" He raged, anger finally morphing over his expression. "I'm in love with you, God damn it!"
Your brows furrowed, bottom lip trembling, "W-What?"
He shook his head, "You really don't know?"
"Know WHAT?" You felt anger swell in your stomach. "That I've spent the past however many years thinking I was only good enough to be your friend, and now you're telling me you're in love with me? What? Did Chrissy stand you up? You need a rebound?"
He sighed, nudging you over an inch to slide down the wall into the space between you and the bathtub. You both stared forward, a light splattering of blood across the pale porcelain you stared at.
"I was the one who left her," he admitted with a sigh. "I just... We got to the first dance, and I just hated myself, because all I wanted - for the last few weeks, too - has been to have you in my arms, again. I've missed you more than anything."
You shook your head, "You've wanted Chrissy - "
"She was a want, doll," he whispered. "But I realized tonight that you're a need. I need you in my life, baby, please believe me. Look, I-I got caught up in the excitement of dating Chrissy, but she knew my heart wasn't 100% in it, and told me it was okay."
"Ch-Chrissy told you to leave?"
"She told me to run to you and not let go when I had you in my arms," he nodded, looking down at me now. "She knew the whole time... I couldn't stand being away from you, not talking to you, so she offered to help distract me until I bucked up the nerve."
"Nerve to what?"
"Ask you to be mine," he smiled softly. "Look, I know, I've had this thing for Chris, and when I finally had her, I just didn't know what to do. But she knew the whole time, and insisted I come find you."
"Oh," you breathed, chest tight for a new reason.
"And I realized I was at prom with the wrong woman," he nodded, gingerly reaching his hand out to stroke over mine. I sniffled and turned my hand over to lace our fingers together, leaning into his shoulder. "Not seeing you there, I felt worse than ever before. I couldn't admit I was in love with you - I was scared we'd lose this. Our friendship, we'd lose the comfort and protection."
Tears swelled in your eyes as you squeezed them shut; a few tears rolling sadly down your cheeks. "You don't mean that..."
"How can you say that?" He asked incredulously.
"Because you just feel bad," you whimpered. "It's okay, Eddie. I'm okay - you don't have to do this. It doesn't matter - "
"Anything regarding you, to me, definitely matters. Why're you so against this - against us?"
"Because it's not real," you sniffled. "You've been in love with - "
"Please, please, go ask Chrissy yourself," Eddie begged, shaking his head. "She'll tell you - go ask Dustin, Garth, Jeff - anyone, baby. Please. I'm in love with you, and I need you to believe it."
"Why now?"
"Why what?"
"Why tell me now?"
He chuckled, "Because I hoped there was enough time to get here and take the girl of my dreams to prom."
"You don't even like prom. Or any social gathering, for that matter."
He chuckled, "Yeah, very true, but you're everything to me and I know you wanted to go. Remember last year?" You sighed, soft smile stretching across your face. "You were so excited that I made you that pact that if neither of us had a date, we'd go together." You nodded against his shoulder. "And I just thought... I thought other guys wanted to take you, and you'd want to go with them more sine they could give you the full 'prom experience'. So, I panicked and focused on Chrissy..."
You sighed, "I wish you told me the truth... And that you'd have just asked me properly."
"I regret nothing more," he sighed. "Because it made you feel left out and neglected."
You nodded, "Eddie?"
"Yeah, peaches?"
The old nickname from 10th grade made heat pool in your chest, cheeks, and ears; feeling flustered as you whispered, "I'm in love with you, too."
"Yeah?" He chuckled.
"Mhm."
He sighed, "Oh, thank God."
You couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "What?"
He looked down at you with a grin, "Been waiting years to hear that."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Since I decked Carver in the face, yeah," he breathed. "Just wanted to pull you into my arms and tell you how much I loved you."
"Maybe if you did, we could've had more time together."
"We have all the time in the world now, baby," he beamed. "'Cause I'm not letting you go - hear me? You're mine, and I'm not letting go."
You smiled and leaned up so you could rest your forehead on his, "I don't want you to let go."
"I'll hold on forever, baby," he whispered. "But I have something important to ask you..."
"Hmm?"
"Think you're feeling up for a dance with me?"
You chuckled and nodded, "Uh, maybe one. Do we have to go to the school?"
"Nope, not if you don't want to."
You paused for a moment, asking shyly, "Eddie?"
"Yeah, peaches?"
"Would you go to prom with me?"
Eddie chuckled, "You're throwing up blood, baby, I think I should take you to the hospital instead. C'mon, instead of a prom dress, I'll dance with you in a hospital gown."
You couldn't help but giggle under your breath. "Come with me, I need to show you something," you sighed after, reaching forward to flush the blood and petals before standing up. With his hand in yours, you lead him from the bathroom and to your room, sitting on the bed and placing a book in his lap.
"What am I looking at?"
"Just... Read this page," you pointed to the paragraph you wanted him to read; taking the spot beside him and leaning to his shoulder again as he scanned the page quickly.
"Holy shit," he breathed at the end, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "Doll, no, no, no. I-I did this to you?"
"I did it to myself," you whispered.
"B-But I've been in love with you, too? So, how did this happen?"
"Neither of us admitted it to ourselves. At least for me, it was until the night you told me you were thinking of asking Chrissy out."
"For me, it was until tonight," he realized with a whisper. "I-I told Chrissy I loved you, an-and it was the first time I admitted it..."
You nodded, "Yeah... So, uh... Yeah."
"Fuck," he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know it hurt you this bad. Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you didn't deserve that. I'm so sorry."
"But it's over now, right?" you asked quietly.
"Yeah, baby, it's all over," he nodded, tossing the library book aside to turn and wrap you in his arms. He whined lightly and tugged so you were straddled in his lap, running a hand through your hair. "Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the pain."
"You're here now," You whispered into his neck, fingers twirling a strand of his hair as your other hand clung to his neck. "That's all I care about."
"I'm never leaving you again," he swore, arms tight around my waist to drag me all the closer. "I'm so sorry, peaches, I-I didn't mean to hurt you."
"It's okay," you promised, sniffling after. "I could've spoken up, too, but I was ashamed. I didn't want to ruin anything between you and Chrissy."
"Promise me, you'll tell me from now on. Okay? I don't care what's happening or where you and I stand - you fucking tell me if something's going on with you, okay?"
You nodded, sniffling lightly, "Yeah, okay, baby, deal."
"Hey," he cooed, pulling me from his neck. His hand reached up to caress the side of my cheek, "I love you, pretty girl."
The smile on your lips felt silly, but you replied, "I love you, too, baby."
"Can I kiss you? Please?" He pouted, making you chuckle lightly before reaching for his cheek and bringing him in to meet your lips. He groaned in relief, hands tightly over your ribs before sliding to your back as his tongue poked against your lips, sweeping into your mouth in a slick dance. You whined lightly, Eddie making a noise of surprise as he pulled back, a string of saliva trailing between your lips.
Your brows furrowed as he reached up and picked something from his tongue; a light pink cherry blossom petal stuck between his pointer and thumb. "Oh, my God," you wheezed, leaning forward to rest against his chest and push your face into his neck. "I'm so sorry."
He chuckled and let the petal flutter to the ground, "Kinda hot."
"Eddie," you whined.
"I'm sorry, baby," he chuckled, pecking the side of my head. "Are you feeling better?"
"Mhm, much better now, honestly. Having you here helps."
He pulled back to grin brightly at you, "Wanna go to prom then?"
You sighed lightly, gazing down at him in his suit and smiling lightly when you pressed over his red shirt. "Did you match Chrissy?"
He sighed, "She ended up choosing a green dress. Thought red was more my color," he smirked lightly. "But I can't lie, we looked like human Christmas."
You snorted in humor. "Red's definitely your color," you agreed, glancing back at your closet before back at him. "Um, wanna give me a few minutes? We can leave after?"
"Take as much time as you need, peaches," he nodded, leaning in with another smile to press his lips to your own. He chuckled a few times, pecking his lips rapidly before pulling away.
Within an hour, your hair was fixed off your neck; make-up minimal but still noticeable; and red dress shimmied up your body to then tie over your shoulders. Lacing your shoes on, you looked in the mirror before exiting your room and descending the stairs to find Eddie hunched over a counter, working in the kitchen on something.
You cleared your throat as your fingers fiddled together nervously when Eddie turned, and you swear time stopped. "Shit," he breathed, eyes weeping you up and down. "Oh, my... God."
"Yeah?" you asked, looking over the red material.
"Oh, hell yeah," he nodded, slowly approaching you. "You look beautiful, peaches, wow... Shit."
"You've said that," you teased. "Whatcha makin' over there?"
He smirked and picked up a flower from the counter, turning and taking your wrist. "My girl needs a corsage," he explained, showing off the flower he'd clipped from an old bouquet and then fashioned with a rubber band and safety pin. "There," he smiled when it was settled, "now you're ready for senior prom, huh?"
You nodded, hands placed to his chest as you smoothed out a few wrinkles, "You look unbelievably good right now."
He chuckled, "Look who's talkin'. Givin' Bo Derek a run for her money, aren't you? God damn."
You couldn't help the bright grin across your face, stepping into his embrace. "I love you," you whispered.
"I don't think I'll get tired to hearing that," he beamed, pecking your lips after. "I love you, too, baby - so much. And I'm so sorry it took me this long to admit it. You didn't deserve anything you suffered through..."
"It's done now," you nodded.
"And we're never going back," his hands rose to caress either of my cheeks. "Now - wanna go rock this prom?"
"Smoke up your van after?"
"You know it, princess," he grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. "My lady," he smirked teasingly, offering his bent arm.
"My lord," you breathed, arm around his, and chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks months. Maybe things would be okay and they could work out, but for now, it was refreshing to live in the moment with Eddie. Your partner in crime. Your other half. Your best friend, and now your boyfriend. Someone you adored - and someone who adored you in full return.
Maybe love wasn't too bad after all - when it's not trying to suffocate you from the inside.
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belokhvostikova · 4 months
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | After five months of no reconciliation with the man whose lifestyle became too much for you to manage, you're met with your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar, after an accident leaves you in the hospital, and you face the realization that Eddie Munson is still your emergency contact.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, mentions of alcohol consumption, hard drug use, insecurities, minor jealousy, fighting, breakup, brief mention of infidelity (no cheating, though), hospital setting, head injury, concussion, mentions of stitches, mentions of blood, and mentions of seizures.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Y'all, I'm 19! So, as a gift to you (whatever logic that is) here's a fic that takes place around Christmas, so I guess, also a belated Christmas gift. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas! Also, the extent of my knowledge on injuries is purely based on the fact that I took both Health Science I and II in high school, and, well, that's it. So, if anything is inaccurate, NO IT'S NOT (because I said so).
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“Will you-” so vividly, you heard his boisterous laughter dense the air sweetly, his face glowing with the ever peaking sunlight that glimmered the sparkling snow outside each time you peered up to his extended height. “It’s like you’re trying to make me fall!” His dramatic accusations were merely met with your fits of giggles, something he so gladly wished to always be met with, as the graze of your cold fingers buzzed his skin with the excitement of what used to be your touch. “Seriously, baby, I can’t finish this if you’re attacking me.” 
But you made no effort to stop, continuing your precise placement of delicate ornaments upon the belt loops of his jeans, the links of his chain, the pockets of his backside, perhaps even one snuggly secured in the threaded rips of his pants. With your boyfriend at your mercy—stuck a couple feet higher atop the fifth step of the ladder to fulfill your dreams of draping green garland to surround your high rise windows—you couldn’t help the ebullient urge to decorate him as you pleased, bringing some loving festivities to the black denim ensemble he regularly sported. 
Effervescent balls of sparkling reds and yellows accompanied the hanging bandana of his back pocket. “You’re like my very own personal Christmas tree!” You beamed upwards, watching a smile that was personal to himself, as he lavished in the innocence this holiday expelled from you. “C’mon,” a fatuous whine that had him chuckling with strings of fake green leaving his hand to secure around the window frame, “have a little spirit!”
And perhaps, that’s all you were trying to have now: spirit.
Because in the blink of an eye, the purity of crystalline, white snow had turned into sludges of watery dirt to meet the once twinkling hues to stringing lights that now simply became the bane of your existence. Because to you, everything embellished itself as a mockery to the happily ever after you now no longer had. 
But it never hurt to try, and yet, trying became the very literal thing that hurt you. 
“…What occurred in the midst of their fourth track, Corroded Coffin’s notable ‘Goliath’s Wrath,’ left fans in a frenzy, when frontma…” Your eyes blurred with exhaustion, attempting to fight back the heaviness of your eyelids that left your vision impaired by spotty shades of blacks and whites. Various pitches of ringing clashing with static voices began provoking that throbbing ache in your head that pounded your brain to mush. “…Information falls scarcely upon accuracy, though there were mentions of a family emergency as to the reaso…” One harsh breath for your dense chest left your nose to be invaded by the artificial, bitterness of antiseptic. All more of a reason for your eyes to screw shut in a brutal endeavor to appease the gnawing of your head. “…Demanding refunds for a set that had to go on without the leading m-”
“You’re up!” Your eyes shot open. His aging skin told stories of his life, crinkling into an abundance of creases that welcomed your startled awakening. “I know things may seem a little scary and confusing here, kid.” Heaving became an understatement when your eyes accepted the burning tiles of white around the room, and suddenly, whatever news outlet that was recounting the upheaval of 90s Hollywood from the tiny television that served its purpose of passing time was becoming drowned out by the abrasive beeping of monitors that clung to your body with tubes. “But just bare with me, alright, everything’s going to be okay.”
Okay? Your body felt cold under the roughness of hospital linen. “I-I…” A reckless try at sitting up left your mouth soaring with an agonizing groan from the pain, your sore body all too weak for the heavy lifting at your head, that suddenly felt the density of a dozen bricks that smashed together. 
“Take it easy, alright.” The older gentleman smiled, urging you to lay back against the flat pillow with his simple gestures. “I know things are a little hazy here, but my name is Dr. Rosenthal, would you be able to tell me yours?” Your brows scowled at the disparaging child-talk the man thirty years your senior was showcasing you. 
With a roll to your eyes—something instantly regretted because of the pain in your head—you dryly croaked. “Y-Y/N.” It was all too bright. God, what would it give to flip off the overhead lights? You never really were a fan of overhead lights, but his excuse of, “we have money now, these lights can stay on,” had a knack for making you giggle. It’d been five months since those overhead lights were ever turned on again. You wondered how often Ed-
“That’s great!” Dr. Rosenthal smiled, and you accepted the scraping scribble of his pen against his papered clipboard to satiate the buzz of your brain. “Tell me, Y/N can you remember anything about how you may have gotten here? Any recollections you may-”
“Where is- is she here?!” You fought the throb of your head to snap into the direction of the door, where Dr. Rosenthal mimicked your concern. In truth, the smell hadn’t been all too great; beads of perspiration coated his body in part with the concoction of spiced cologne and the bitter bourbon he regularly downed before coming face-to-face with thousands in a packed arena. “Y/N- she’s- what, what happe- oh, shit!” Cindy Jaurick had been a renowned makeup artist in Hollywood, but with the dryness of his skin, even she couldn’t conceal the bruising of his sleep-deprived eyes; splotches of alabaster cream became patchy upon his bags that smeared with the waxiness of black liner. 
Eddie Munson, all leather and chains that clashed with his truest self of denims and tees. A facade so greatly curated by the hands of top executives that in a span of three years, millions were acquired to his name. Such a stupid name, you now thought. 
A heavy step forward left his booted foot clanking against the white tiles, a movement too abrasive for your liking, as his incoming hand has you pushing back from his reaching touch. “Excuse me, sir, you need to step back and calm down.” Dr. Rosenthal proclaimed, a man of loyalty to his position, clearly perturbed by any bothersome that came to his patients. 
“I just- what the hell happened, are you okay?!” His jewelry—the real kind, far from the fake silver he once adorned that periodically fused his fingers green, but loved them more than anything—jingled to the admission of his distress, hands harshly raking through the chunks of sweaty hair over the sight of your damaged self. 
An audible clap came with the hit of Dr. Rosenthal’s clipboard to Eddie’s exposed chest, where the buttons of his designer brand had been deliberate to showcase the permanent markings of his tattooed skin. “Sir, unless you are a relative or partner of-”
“Yes! Yes, I’m her boyfriend-”
Your memory hadn’t served you right for the occasions that brought you to the hospital, but you knew enough that Eddie Munson no longer brandished the title of such, given the circumstances that occurred five months ago. “N-No, he’s, um, not… anymore.”
“Then, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave-”
“No, I- do you even know who I am?” Eddie watched your face scrunch with disgust at his language to the doctor, but whatever damage control he attempted fell short on your solidified opinion of a distasteful eye roll against him. “Shit, no- like, I mean you called me. I-I’m her emergency contact! I swear it, I’m Eddie!” 
And you slumped back against your bed. Clear as day, you remembered the cursive handwriting that marked the page with the name and number of your ex-boyfriend. When a year ago, months apart finally came to a halt as Eddie’s touring schedule cleared for the coming holidays. It would suffice to say the bedroom of your quaint Indianapolis townhouse saw little abandonment, with silk sheets becoming imprinted with the weight of your bodies that refused to leave the warmth of each other’s depraved company. In doing so, your judgment became clouded from the usual routine of bathroom care that came after a heated rendezvous. But could you be blamed? Believe it or not, there actually was a time when Eddie’s embrace brought you comfort and peace. What eventually transpired into a run-of-mill UTI had actually worsened quicker than expected. Over-the-counter medication did little to relieve you from the infection, and when your back suddenly began to ache, you knew a trip to St. George's Hospital was in need. With a close call, your kidneys were able to stay intact to your body, and the use of dialysis was spared from your future. And yet, who knew the most haunting occasion of that experience would come with the boyish smile of Eddie Munson, as he watched with lovesick eyes as you entrusted him as the man you’d want in the case of an emergency.
My god, how times have changed… 
“Um, yeah, yeah, he is.” You swallowed the dryness of your throat, hoping the commotion of everything would finally settle to alleviate the stress of your head. 
“Well, Ms. Y/L/N, it’s up to you if you’d like him here.” Dr. Rosenthal sighed, a harsh click to his pen that surely cemented his dislike for the gaudy man upon him. “Your neighbor has already left, but I can assure you that the nurses will make frequent routines to keep you in care.”
Neighbor? “I- um, Trevor?” Your head spun with the lack thereof details that painfully tried to piece themselves together. 
Eddie's hair flew with the snap of his head to your doctor, as his scowl silently demanded the explanation you both were desperate to hear. Dr. Rosenthal cleared his throat. “Ms. Y/L/N, you took quite the fall off a ladder in your home. After a while, your neighbor had found you, and did the deed of bringing you over. He mentioned you had borrowed his ladder to put up-”
“Christmas decorations.” What a wonderful feeling it was to have the epiphany that was as simple as regained memory. Where you no longer had a boyfriend to gladly bear the brunt work of Christmas decorations for your sole enjoyment, you now had to dish out yourself. Unloading dusty boxes had usually accompanied a teasing compliment to the muscles that bulged from his arms, though now, your back felt the strain of heavy lifting, because you refused to properly use your legs. “Um, y-yeah, I remember- well, I don’t remember falling, but, uh, I used Trevor’s ladder for the, um, y’know, what do you call them? The green, leaf stringy-”
“Garlands?” Dr. Rosenthal and Eddie spoke simultaneously.
And you perked up as best as your body would allow. “Yeah, garlands!” Your voice excitedly croaked. “You, uh, y-you remember?” For once, in five months, you actually acknowledged him. Eddie. “I-I like those garlands around our- my windows.”
He remembered. Your giggles ringing in his ears like magical sleigh bells. Your touch warming his skin against the burning cold. Your eyes twinkling over the simplicity of green garlands… something he couldn’t even provide you with now.
“That’s good.” Dr. Rosenthal smiled. “You’re recalling events and… history,” he pursed his lips against Eddie’s cold demeanor, “wonderfully. It’s a good sign of minimal memory loss, which falls quite commonly against those in situations as yours. When you fell, Ms. Y/L/N, your neighbor had informed us of a seizure-”
“Seizure?!” Eddie spat.
“Yes, seizure; fifteen seconds.” He clarified. “And with that, an immediate grade II concussion. We ran a necessary EEG and CT scan prior to your waking, as such classification can offer some findings. Fortunately, all we saw was the inevitable stretching of your neurons which caused a burst of electrical impulses in your brain explaining the seizure. Checking for any fracturing of the skull, or swelling, and bleeding, and you were quite lucky. Completely cleared.” His smile broke through his wrinkled face. “Though, you were brought in with quite the gash on the left side of your head, right between the parietal and occipital bone. Nothing too extreme on the severity scale, but in order to stop the bleeding we did have to repair the tissue damage with stitching.” A vapid explanation of the overly tight gauze that somehow felt like a ton of bricks around your cranium. “But other than that, your vitals are excellent.” Check, check, check off his clipboard. “It’s very likely you’ll continue experiencing a headache, perhaps some nausea, or dizziness. I do recommend an overnight stay to ensure secondary swelling doesn’t occur, and to guarantee your memory continues to function properly. But a morning discharge should be fine.”
A deep breath allowed your head to nod along. “Yeah, um, thank you… really.” You earnestly smiled.
But where you could muster a staid beam of politeness, Eddie Munson gleamed a smile so faux, even Dr. Rosenthal piqued him with a scowl—though miniscule for his professional aptitude. The heavy click of the door closing behind Dr. Rosenthal granted the heaviest breath to escape from Eddie before his attention scrutinized you. 
“What the hell were you thinkin’?!” He ambushed. Seriously, he knew you for seven years. Seven years of his fucking life, and not once had you ever dared to lift a finger for manual labor. Okay, call him old fashioned, but that’s exactly what he liked about you; you know, the whole damsel in distress that needed him whenever something fell loose or broken. That’s it, just the need for him. The need to want him around. “I-I mean, seriously, you- why couldn’t you just call me- or, or, like, Steve, or someone, so you wouldn’t get hurt?” Okay, so maybe calling him wouldn’t have been your first option. If the fact of being no contact for five months wasn’t enough, surely living across the country would have ruled him out. You stopped keeping up with his whereabouts weeks ago. But that wouldn’t stop him. It was you, for Christ sake! You wanted your garlands, Eddie would have given you your garlands. No matter the lack of communication. No matter the distance.
Eddie Munson would have given you everything. 
You dryly blinked. Twice. If only he felt like that when you both were still together. “Get out.” 
“Okay, no- wait, I’m not trying to blame you-”
“Really? Because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Get out!” Your tired voice tried to muster. 
“No, sweetheart, c’mon, I-I know- I just worded it wrong, okay? Please, I just- I don’t know why you would try to do something that would get you hurt like that. You could have, I don’t know, asked for help, like called me up, I promise I would have answered to help you-”
Your eyes rolled against his sentiment. “What, so I’m just too dimwitted to use a couple of tools?!”
“Well, you did fall.” By your stare, Eddie Munson had two seconds to live. “N-No, I didn’t say that- I, look, I just wish you would have called or someth-”
“And I wish you would just get out!” But your rash endeavor to sit up and shove him away legitimized the pitiless reality of your gnawing head hazing your vision and dismantling your balance, forcing Eddie to rush to your assistance. 
“I- okay, I’ll shut up, just lay back, relax, please, sweetheart. I don’t want you hurting yourself more.” 
“I’m fine.” You gritted. 
“There’s a chunk of your head missing.” Eddie retaliated with a deadpan so infuriating mocking.
A huff of disbelief rippled from your dry lips. “Dr. Rosenthal just said it was no big deal.”
“Like I care what that old fuck has to say.” Your scolding eyes ripped him a new one. “Okay, geez, didn’t know you two were such close friends.”
With no energy to fight back, you permitted his touch to push you back against stiff pillows, where his ink-engraved hands worked swiftly to cover your frail body from the harsh chills of the hospital air conditioning. “I’ll be quiet, promise.” He whispered, adhering to his words, as he silently watched you close your eyes away from him, now that his presence has garnered a throbbing headache. 
By the seventh beep, you no longer found interest in counting the indications of your working monitors. But where your mind lost the simple activity, you also gained attention to the whirring voices of the television. Sat by your side on the hardened chair, Eddie’s tapping toes forced your eyes to tear back-in-forth from his stance to the static colors of live footage coverage. 
“Man, all I hope is for a refund!” Drunk out of his mind, as the lights of cameras began emphasizing the drugged redness of the young man’s eyes. “Like, seriously, we’re all here for The Freak, and for him to just run off like that, dude, we paid for a Corroded Coffin show, and we’re gonna get it, or else we want our money back!”
A pan to the well-dressed reporter stocked drastically to the metalheads on scene. “Well, you heard it here first, folks. As we wait for more updates on the events that occurred that left Eddie Munson running off stage to what would have been his biggest performance in his home state, fans are pressuring for a refu-”
“Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now?” Eddie's head pulled itself from his intense stare that followed the grout of the tiled floors. 
“Huh?” His gaze followed yours which briefly led to the boxed television that delivered MTV’s insistent need to showcase a replay of Eddie “The Freak” Munson, lead guitarist and singer of Corroded Coffin, running off stage in the midst of their newest single, ‘Goliath’s Wrath.’ “Oh, um,” his hand waved you off, “my team will rip me a new one later, it’s fine.” 
You sighed. “And just for the record, I am self aware, so I did have someone there to help me.” You muttered, leaving his brows to furrow. “Trevor?” 
“Oh.” Eddie’s lips maneuvered awkwardly. “Trevor, right.” Knee bouncing, fingers tapping, Eddie knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but the question burned his mind for too long not to suddenly blurt out. “So what, are you seeing him or something?” And perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut, given the death glare you killed him with that had him reeling back his words. “I- sorry.” 
“Trevor has a girlfriend. And a ladder.” You scoffed. “And you of all people cannot be talking.”
Three weeks post the headlines that announced the separation between rockstar, Eddie Munson, and his longtime girlfriend, new reports were eager to air Hollywood’s newest romance between the amoral and Playboy’s finest, Lindsey Sawyer. To say you cried for weeks was quite the understatement, when your body physically impaired you from leaving the shielding comfort of your bed. While you rotted, Eddie danced on the grave of your love with his new girlfriend, whose six inch stilettos pierced your bludgeoned heart. Granted, it lasted nothing but a couple days, though it didn’t stop from the new pattern of recurrence in which Eddie found Hollywood’s new recycled “it” girl to accompany the image of a rager rockstar. Gisele Camarella, Pam Densely, Yvonne Huntsford; a new name, face, and body to compare yourself to. 
“I-” his shame flooded his cheeks crimsen, “those were never real- not, like- not like you, not you and me real. Just what management thought looked best.” Though, his quiet admission did nothing to soothe over painful memories. “I’m sorry.” Three scrapes of wooden legs scratching against white tiles was all it took to have Eddie Munson sitting by your side. “How do you feel?” His eyes fervently raked your face. “Honestly.”
“My head hurts.”
“About seeing me?” He clarified. 
Silence crept up in a suffocating manner, as Eddie watched your stoic lines revise his being. “I don’t like seeing your face anymore, Eddie.” How were you able to speak those words so calmly? Eddie’s throat choked him with unbearable bitterness that burned his insides. “You look stupid. You used to never look stupid.” 
Eddie Munson had a haunting past of failures; D’s and F’s marked such a bloody red over white papers, tainting any scribble of hard work he, at least, attempted at times. And what followed failed tests and quizzes only came with the taunting laughter of jocks and cheerleaders, jeering their distaste for his “kind” that branded his leather and denim as the epitome of all things they deemed nauseating. For a while, Eddie Munson believed himself to be nothing but stupid. The grades and reputation being all the evidence needed to solidify his self worth to him. Every compliment to your intelligence he gave you knew came with an underlying insecurity within him. Because you were smart, so smart. What was a smart girl like you doing with a stupid guy like him? 
So, yeah, your words hurt. As they intended to. 
Eddie’s eyes dropped with shame, his Adam’s apple following suit with a thick bobbing gulp of guilt. His eyes casted upon his tight leather jeans that felt insufferable under a building layer of sweat; too much eyeliner, at times clouding his vision from the very fans he loved seeing; sheer shirts waving in a draft of uncomfortableness, forcing him to long for prized t-shirts that gave him the movement to be him on stage; and a god awful personality detailed so preciously by management to make his name a headliner’s favorite. 
Yeah, Eddie Munson looked so fucking stupid. 
“I-I don’t like ‘em.” He stammered. 
“You used to.” 
-
July once brought Los Angeles, California a blistering heat. You hate heat.
Five months ago. 
“No, no, no, he’s full of shit, I was the one who came up with ‘Goliath’s Wrath!’” The cigar browning of Gareth Emerson’s scotch dribbled his lips wet with his drunken blubber, as men surrounding—all big money and titles alike—huffed out laughter worth millions to the men that provided them such wealth. 
Eddie’s nose burned with the ecstasy of white powder, dusting his beautiful features with the hedonism of all glory and power… for once, right in his hands. “Oh, fuck off, you were passed out drunk laying in your own piss when we wrote that god awful fucking song!” He laughed, joining in on the obnoxious cacophony of guffaws that held no sense of reality. 
A shoulder knocked into his. Greased slicked hair, gold rings, and a suit worth your car payment; Iverson Green. And Eddie had no fucking clue what he did. “You really don’t like the upcoming song?” He whispered.
And Eddie would never know. Information as such mattered little, as long as the man helped pay his check. “These braindeads approve of all this rock shit for the image.” Eddie bit back. “If I had it my way, I’d show ‘em real metal.” He smiled. 
A blood red stiletto acrylic stabbed at his shoulder before a cloud of Chanel °5 invaded his itching nose. “Got you booked.” She spoke, her breath tickling his ear over the sheer closeness needed over the vibrating base of stereos. 
Eddie turned his head to see her, a smiling Judy Carawan that had him beaming right back. “For what this time? I’m not doing some late night news bullshit again.” After the way Larry Parsons of Hollywood’s Friday Nights called out his delinquent behavior, executives were buzzing for another clash between Eddie “The Freak” Munson and talk show hosts to get the papers running. 
“Hilfiger.” Judy leaned in, a smirk of confidence for her work truly accomplished. “A fitting, then you wear one of his suits to the VMA’s, and that’s cash in your pockets. And mine.” 
Eddie’s face glowered with disgust, as he attempted to move away, her smell becoming too strong for his liking. “Save me a line.” He instructed to the man breaking rows of snow on the mahogany table. “Fuck no, I’m not wearing some posh-y model shit in front of the fucking cameras.”
“It’ll be one time, and a check worth a lifetime.” She rolled her eyes, a habitual stance against the troubles that came with personally assisting Eddie Munson. “Also, see.” Her slender finger pointed to the lengthy body of Cierra Kalahi, perched against the marbling chimney of your Hollywood Hills home. “Miss America’s Next Top Model will be wearing Hilfiger, too. You and some Shalom Harlow wannabe wearing the same designer is just enough to spark some attraction to your name.”
Eddie knew the venomous implications of her suggestion. “I’m not playin’ into your bullshit dating rumors.” A vicious cycle you two had to go through; you hurting more than the other, though. 
“Okay, fine, then we get your pretty, little girlfriend to wear a matching dress… that is if she’ll stop being a bummer.” 
“Don’t fucking do that, alright?” Eddie huffed, dragging his sweaty hands down the heat of his cheeks. His eyes felt like they were going to crack out of his skull from the dryness of being opened for the past forty-three hours. But the umpteenth swig of Old Fashioned was fueling him alongside the unstoppable fuel of crystalline cocaine. “She just- I- look, I’m not putting her out there where she doesn’t want to go. S-She’s too good- she’s too good for the cameras.” 
“She’s not good for your career.” Eddie felt her words echo into a repeated ringtone that irritated his ears. His vision grew blurred with his impulsive movements against her face. 
His hot, alcoholic breath fanned her bangs with each huff of his chest. “Remember who pays your fucking bills!” Nothing but the voices of Mötley Crüe tormented the background, as everyone but the music quieted to bask in the events of another Eddie Munson meltdown. “You say one more fucking word about her, and I’ll leave you to the fucking street.”
Judy Carawan cinched her eyes against his lost ones. Whatever bad boy facade he drugged himself into every night never scared her. Hell, she fed into it. “Eddie, I’m going to be quite frank with you, since no one else will be. You and your goody girlfriend will never last. If she truly cared for you like she says she does, she would do anything to keep your name in the spotlight. And if you truly cared for her like you say you do, you wouldn’t be snorting snow on your fucking anniversary.” Eddie's hardened muscles fell from realization. And Judy smiled such a sick smile. “And FYI, I was someone before you.” Eight years of work with Hollywood’s hottest clientele. “Can you say the same?”
Your lip wobbled under the harsh bite of your teeth to suppress the stinging tears from an embarrassing downpour. Despite his promises of a private evening, you braced your arms over your chest, where it became exposed from the strapless dress you uncomfortably endured, after too many magazine headlines criticized your lack of “looks” for the hottest rockstar in town. You’d never admit it, always brushing him off whenever he became concerned for your well being because of the tabloids, but he always noticed the subtle changes you made to look like the women in the city that felt like another plant from olde Indiana. 
And now, unwarranted flashes of cameras settled outside the Michelin Star restaurant that burrowed burdening humiliation into your skin, as a cautious peer around the setting allowed you to notice the pitying and gossip of the goers around you. 
Every minute that passed, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. But an hour and fifteen minutes just prevailed you to be a doormat. But could you be blamed? Seven years ago today, you ran into the man, himself, who turned the dreaded day of Hawkin’s High open house into a new adventure. Where you had the excuse of an actively involved mother, who became adamant on touring the unknown environment of the orange and green halls after your father’s relocation to the rural town, Eddie had an intransigent uncle who refused to watch his nephew lose another year of his life to failing high school, and imposed the young man to abide by the staff’s fake smiles, as they greeted parents and students for the coming school year. 
It’s funny how one sullen face can find another in a crowd of PTA parents and their goody-two-shoe children alike. Meeting eyes and a devilish smirk on his face was all it took for two strangers to find trust in one another, and sneak away in the depths of bushy, green woods. In retrospect, asking Eddie Munson to be your boyfriend after only three hours of knowing him was quite rash—he, himself, was quite taken aback, as well—but the worst that could happen was it didn’t work out. I mean, what high school relationship ever does? But his informative trek across lush grass, a shared cigarette, and talks that had your stomach cramping from fits of giggles was enough to solidify your decision at heart. And who was Eddie Munson to ever say no to a pretty face and soul like yours. 
And it worked out… surprisingly. 
It was quite the experience learning the ins and outs of someone you already called your boyfriend, but the pureness of it all bloomed into the most innocent love of two people navigating the world and finding themselves together. 
But suddenly, the world had a place in your relationship. The people had a say. In what you wore, what you looked like, who you had to be. And he allowed it. Allowed everyone to measle their way in. After the first promise to you that nothing would change, every single one to follow became a lie. 
Because he changed. 
You mustered the will to sniffle away any tears. He no longer became worth it to you. And it broke your heart. Your heels clicked their way out of the restaurant, where your being was blurred under the paralyzing flashes of people who invaded your life, capturing and exploiting your lowest moment for a check, and branding you the girl that held the greatest rockstar back.
Eddie stumbled back on wobbly feet, his mind too disorientated to care about the bodies he shoved that consequently left glasses of cocktails to shatter against the polished flooring of his home. Though, nothing mattered as long as he got to the door. But your crying self had beat him to it from the other side, swinging the grand doors that were always too heavy for your liking, and entering your home that was invaded by strangers and their substances, and Eddie… your Eddie standing in the middle of it all. 
His red, beclouded eyes had disallowed him the privilege of blinking your beauty straight, but through the haze of blear lines, he saw your face so clearly fall from disappointment.
From pure defeat. 
“W-Wait!” Eddie fought the incoordination of his legs to follow you outside, leaving his guest to watch in awe. “Baby, I- fuck! I-I’m sorry- ugh, I just- I forgot!”
Los Angeles’ humidity suffocated his airways that were already constricting from his sobbing chokes. His insides burned from the concoction of drugs and sweltering heat that only fueled at the sight of your broken face. “You forgot?!” You cried, swinging your body around to face the man you no longer recognized. “For the past seven years you’ve never forgotten, but now you do! What, is it no longer important for you?!”
Spit blubbered with his words, as his lips moved a mile a minute to keep your love preserved. “N-No, I mean- yes, of course, it’s i-important-” 
“Then why weren’t you there?!” Mascara stained the softness of your cheeks, now too darkened for Eddie to ever kiss the pain away. “Why aren’t you ever there?! For me!”
“I-It wasn’t my fault.” He heaved. “J-Jude, she-she said this s-stupid thing was scheduled, and-and she said it’d be quick-”
“Of course, it’s never your fault!” You bit back with the deflation of your arms. “It’s always the alcohol, or the drugs, or Judy, but it can never be your fault, can it, Eddie?!” His fist balled into his eyes, as snot caved down his nose. 
“N-No, it is my fault! I’m sorry, Y/N- I’ll fix it! I’ll do anything, I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”
“Don’t you get it?!” You marched up to his wrecked body. “Your promises mean nothing to me anymore!”
“Don’t, please!” Eddie sobbed. Shameful embarrassment ate him alive in the middle of your Hollywood Hills driveway. “I-I’ll stop all this, th-the drugs,” his arm smeared away the remnants of snot and cocaine against his nose, “the drinking, partying, everything, I mean it!” Because something deep within Eddie Munson knew this was the last straw.
You were done.
“Stop lying to me!” Your eyes stung with tears. “Why are you so comfortable lying to me, and h-hurting me?!” His head adamantly refused your words with a harsh shake to his head, but the history of abandonment that brought you to your wits end weighed more than his inebriated actions. “You touch me and it feels like a lie. You k-kiss me and it feels like a lie. E-Everything you do has become bullshit, Eddie! I don’t trust you. I-I just worry. Worried that anytime you’re not next to me you’ve drugged yourself dead, or-or knocked out somewhere, or… with women-”
“Don’t fucking say that! I’d never do something like that to you!”
“The Eddie I knew would never leave me to snort coke with strangers, but here we are!” You bawled in retaliation, forcing his mouth quiet in disbelief. “You’re not Eddie anymore! So, don’t stand here and tell me you wouldn’t do these things, when everything you do leads me to believe you are capable of doing something like that… something to hurt me! Because you do, Eddie! You hurt me.”
“I’m so fucking sorry! Please, Y/N, baby, I fucking love you, everything’s just been too much, a-and I forget things, I’ll be better!” You scoffed at his utter patheticism that grossed you out, turning your heel, but his large hand caught a tightening grip to your wrist. “No, I’m serious, sweetheart, I’ll change! I-I’m still Eddie!”
“Get off.” You quietly pleaded, exhausted from the sobs that wrecked your body. 
“Y-You can’t leave me, Y/N, no, I-I need you.” He choked. “I love you. So much. With everything in me. Please. We don’t do this to each other!”
“Then why do you keep doing this to me?!”
“Darling, Ms. Y/L/N?” Yours and Eddie’s head parted to the soft voice of Debby Weiser. Nearly a year ago, your elderly neighbor—who came into stardom in the 50s for her acts that revolutionized the spreading use of colored television—welcomed you into the gated neighborhood with a gluten-free muffin basket that had tasted like pure shit. But the kindness of her effort garnered a budding friendship with the mature woman who offered her wisdom on enduring Hollywood’s notoriety. “You alright there, sweetie?” Her southern accent never had assimilated to the Valley. 
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You turned to his eyes, staring down the saddened roundness that no longer held the precious life they once used to. “I was just leaving.”
That night, you left to your shared Indianapolis townhouse that became your starter home when Eddie’s career was first taking off. You were so happy then. 
And he hadn’t seen you since. 
Until now.
-
Eddie Munson had fallen quiet. 
Everything had, in fact.
The constant beeping of your medical instruments drove him to madness, but he figured the insanity was substantial punishment for the hurt he caused you. He’d been suffering for five months already, what’s a couple more minutes? If anything, he’d be suffering for the rest of his life should it continue without you. 
But it didn’t have to. 
Eddie knew he had no right to gain your love once more, and the vulnerability of your state worsened the situation tenfold, but there was a reason Eddie received that call. A reason why his heart sank amidst a phone call that identified your beautiful name in an emergency, that left him dropping everything in front of thousands that cheered his name. Whatever cynicism that tainted his heart had long left upon your sweet arrival; a ‘thank you’ filled with such gratitude towards his uncle, when Eddie busted into the trailer with a smile too large to be because of Hawkins High’s yearly open house. Wayne Munson had never asked, mostly due to the fact that his nephew locked himself in his bedroom, where the nineteen-year-old worked endlessly for his new upcoming Dungeons and Dragons campaign that followed the grounds of fate and destiny. 
In the mere three hours of your presence, you gave Eddie Munson hope.
He’d be damned not to devote his eternal life to you. 
“Y/N, I…” his eyes laid low, examining the threads of linen that covered you, as his fingers twiddled with his rings to appease the constant bounce of his anxious knee. “I need you to know how terribly sorry I am for everything I did. All the times I hurt you.” He sighed, as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “I- uh, I just really need you to understand that everything that happened to us was not your fault. At all. You-” his breath shook with a tremble, “You really were so fucking perfect during everything. So patience, so communicative, and I-I never listened to you the way you deserved, I just- I don’t know, I thought maybe-maybe if I gave it my all to this career, I could finally give you everything you deserve.”
His eyes attempted to blink away searing tears, but his emotions were getting the better of him. “A-And I know how fucking selfish that is, I had- fuck, I had no right to assume what you wanted from me, and-and put you in a position where you had to go through all my bullshit, all because I thought that in the end it would make you happy… without even speaking to you about it.” Eddie's voice cracked with a harsh sniffle to gather his strength. 
“I-I’m getting clean, um, it’s been really fucking hard, but I-I got the boys s-setting me straight everyday. Especially after I practically tortured them with my cries after you left.” His pity laughter softly broke through. “B-But yeah, sweetheart, I-I’m doing pretty good for myself- well, tryin’ to, at least. Still kinda always, constantly, forever feel like shit,” Eddie chuckled, “but I’m managing. T-The drugs n’ everything flushed n’ all, n-now just trying to hold off the booze, y’know? But fuckin’ hell does a beer get me through it.”
A smile began etching upon his face, where the history of all the laughter you provided him with creased his face with the lines of joy that only truly showcased in your presence. “Talked to our manager, he sure as hell was pissed when I insisted on getting rid of Jude. And she sure as hell went out with a bang, and smeared by name to the tabloids, but, uh, you probably already read about that- or not, I don’t, like, expect you to keep up with me or anything, honestly I kinda hope you didn’t, because, well, those first couple of weeks after everything real-really, uh… brought the worst out.” A deep breath escaped his mouth, as his fingers dug into the temples of his head to alleviate the dull pain. 
“I-I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m really… trying.” Eddie swallowed thickly. “F-For my fans, the boys, myself, a-and you, Y/N. And I c-can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for taking, y’know, taking this long t-to get better, and for not trying better before, for having to h-hurt you just to learn, I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. A-And I’m not askin’ for a second chance- well, I know I don’t deserve one, not now or-or ever if you feel like it, I just need you to know I’m Eddie, somewhere inside- I’m working really hard on just being me- oh, but, of course, I do want to be with you. T-That wasn’t me saying I didn’t. I do, I-I always wanna be with you, I just- I, okay, I’ll shut up now.”
The deliberation was excruciating. 
The process of his words that rambled on for an eternity was too much to process, especially with a head injury, and he understood that to the fullest, but the quietness was becoming deafening, as he waited for your words… your rejection… your reciprocation. 
Anything.
And he couldn’t dare look you in the eyes, the ones that pierced his soul so deeply, and he desperately urged you to say something. Anything!
“Y/N?” Beep. Beep. Beep. “Sweetheart…?” His eyes fluttered forward. “Jesus H. Christ, Y/N!” Your peaceful sleep had garnered a frightful reaction from Eddie, as he jumped to his feet to urgently caress your face awake. Of course, when doing so, your eyes tiredly awoke to his face all too close for your liking, and a frown broke your face, as you attempted to move from him. 
“Christ, Eddie.” You debilitatingly rasped. “What are you doing?”
“Me?! What are you doing? Are you okay? You shouldn’t be going to sleep, you have a concussion! I-Isn’t that, like, something you shouldn’t do?!” He cupped your face straight to the blinding ceiling light, that had you mewling with annoyance. 
“Eddie, I can remember Reagan’s speech, and the fall of the Berlin Wall.” You dragged, prying his concerned hands off your face. “I think I’ll be just fine going to sleep. God, did you just expect me to stay up all night?”
A shuddering breath left his strangling throat, as his hands flexed at the electricity of the touch of your skin. His body tensed, as his round eyes worriedly followed the contours of features. “You didn’t- did you hear me, like, anything that I just said? B-Before you- I woke you up?” 
Your brows concave with a furrow of confusion, as you peered up at him through wispy lashes. “What’d you say?”
A deep sigh left his dry lips, as he flashed you a small smile filled with sincerity. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It was nothing.” His hands gently worked to cover your body further with blankets to keep you warm, as your suspicious stare hesitantly nodded in acceptance to his words. “Y-You hungry, or-or need more blankets? Painkillers, anything?”
You delicately rejected his help with a shake of your head. “Just tired.” You softly answered. “And you should probably leave, too. Get some sleep.”
Despite his mind refusing your proposal, he knew your rest was vital for recovery, and he watched you slowly turn your back to him, as his slow steps marked his way to the door. So lonely, he gazed at your tired body curl up into itself like it once did when his presence was actually yearned by you; all safety once found in his embrace, as he promised to never let go. And though he never did, his actions forced you to let go, as he now had to bear witness to seeing you become content with yourself. Something he could never imagine doing so. 
His finger flipped the switch. You never were a fan of the overhead lights. And once so, a peaceful sigh buried its way from your parted lips, as your mind rested in tranquil darkness. 
Eddie’s hand wrapped around the doorknob that allowed the hallway light to bleed in. But his eyes couldn’t dare leave you once more. Five months of deprivation killed him every passing day, and one glimpse of your beaten self made him feel like an addict breaking their withdrawal. There was once a time in which he was beckoned with the devastating occurrence of you leaving him no choice but to watch you walk away. Now, he had an opportunity. A chance. To walk away. Or stay. Leaving you alone, hurting, in a cold, empty hospital room was too heartbreaking of an option to ever endure, and he was vowing to his words of never hurting you again. 
He gently closed the door with no intent to deceive you, but rather care for you. Right now, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. And his mind felt at peace knowing he could watch over you; his heart dissipating to the rhythm of calmness only you could bring him to. His quiet steps guided him back to the stiff chair that numbed his bottom and stabbed at his back. But it all became worth it, finally seeing you at peace, after the last weeks he ever got to see you your face had been permanently etched in distress, because of him. 
Despite being awake for nearly twenty-two hours now, Eddie Munson spared a couple more just to look at you.
The morning to follow, Dr. Rosenthal had commented greatly on the normalcy of your brain. And Eddie felt envious. You could take thirty more blows to the head, and your brain would still function far better than his ever could. You, unfortunately, had no chance to question his lingering presence, since your body had been awakened by the prodding of a nurse who kindly checked if your vitals were up to par. You figured you’d save her the awkwardness of interrogating your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar.
“If necessary, just some acetaminophen of your choice once every four to six hours depending on the instructions. But if your pain seems to not be improving, I’ll surely write you a prescription for a triptan, whichever one we can work out best for you.” You nodded along, subtly watching Eddie in the corner of your eye, who was listening too intently for someone who was bound to leave in a couple minutes. “And for your stitches, twice a day, remove the old coverage, clean off, and apply a new gauze. After a while, you should be okay with doing it once, and by the two, two and half week mark, I’ll have a referral to remove them when the time comes.” You sighed, taking a minute to let your head process the instructions of the older gentleman before you. “Alrighty, any questions?”
“No, really, you’ve been so helpful with everything-”
“She can’t drive, right?” Eddie butted in. 
Dr. Rosenthal took a long second to peer at him, before clearing his throat. “Wouldn’t recommend it under your symptoms. Nausea and dizziness can impair your ability, so we can call someone, arrange transp-”
“I already got that covered.” Eddie spat a smirk back in retaliation. 
“As long as it’s okay with you.” Dr. Rosenthal sympathetically smiled at you.
You drew out a defeated sigh, and watched Eddie react like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Fine.” You begrudged. 
“Alright then, you go ahead and take the time needed to gather your things, and you can check out at the front desk.” Your trusted doctor assured you. “Call me if you have any questions or concerns, and I’ll gladly help. You have a Merry Christmas, Ms. Y/L/N.” Eddie was spared from a polite holiday goodbye. 
You gently smiled. “Thank you, have a Merry Christmas, as well.” 
With a click of the door behind him, Eddie was quick to let out a breath of relief, as though Dr. Rosenthal lifted a burden off his shoulders. His hasty movements brought your bag of clothes from beneath your hospital bed to plop against your legs. “These yours?” He pried the drawstrings open. 
“No, they’re the lady’s who gave birth before this became my room.” Eddie deadpanned, continuing to rummage through your belongings.
He snorted. “Psh, no pregnant lady would wear an Anthrax tee.” Something that very much still belonged to him, as he threw your t-shirt to your chest. 
“Did you stay here after I told you not to?” Your eyes glared in a deadly squint that challenged his snarkiness. 
“N-No.” A big, fat lie. His gaze was avoidant of yours, as his hands worked hurriedly to empty the bag of your pants… a brown flannel… your right Reebok… then the left, of course… an earring that stabbed him… the other that didn’t, because he learned his lesson… and some pretty, pretty pink panti-
“Stop looking at those!” You snatched the lacy material from his hands, as he threw his arms up in defense. “And if you didn’t stay, why are you still wearing the same clothes?” You prodded further. 
“Oh, my god, I didn’t stay.” He huffed. And you hated the portion of your heart that allowed his words to hurt you, because how come he didn’t stay? “Just headed back to the hotel, took a nap, and came back here early.”
You allowed your hurt to bite back. “That’s gross, you smell.” But he’ll permit your chastising insults if it meant you wouldn’t be angry at him for going against your wishes. 
“Can you just hurry up and change, so I can take you home.” He rolled his eyes. “I arranged a car to have us picked up, and take you home.” 
“I hope you know how pretentious that sounds.” And Eddie Munson stared and stared, as you balled your clothes into the sanctity of your lap. “Well, don’t look, turn around.”
Eddie’s mouth gaped, laughing in disbelief. “Please, sweetheart, I’ve been staring at you naked for the past seven years of my life.”
“You know what? Just for that, you can go to the bathroom and wait, until I say so.” You smiled, so pleased to watch Eddie scoff incredulously. 
Eddie turned on his heels with an exhale of exasperation to match, as he strutted his way into the tiny bathroom. “Can just close my eyes, and picture you naked.” Luckily with his back turned, he wouldn’t dare notice the small smile that cracked your face. 
Eddie’s mind had been buzzing with thoughts for the entire forty-five minutes it took for the chauffeur to pull up and parallel park in front of your townhouse. Like clockwork, your brow arched upon seeing the movements that followed yours: Eddie clicking his seatbelt. “Look, don’t give me that look, I already know what you’re about to say, but please, just let me come in, and help you.” You huffed, letting your eyes bounce from the window to his face that was hardened with determination. “C’mon, let me make it up to you this one time.”
Another defeated ‘fine’ was murmured under your breath, as Eddie made the quick trip to help you out of the car. “Just head back, man, I’ll call you when I need to.” Numerous bills were discreetly slid into the hands of the driver, before he took his cue to leave the neighborhood. 
“Hey, Y/N!” The blizzarding winter left the precisely planted trees along the sidewalk to lose their green shrubbery; your one shield from the sun that still blazed its light down the Demember wind. But through the glares, you matched that voice to the friendly neighbor who lent you his ladder… and subsequently took you to the hospital once you fell off. 
“Oh, hi, Trevor!” You waved to him from atop of his stairs, as you caught sight of the reusable bags of groceries in his hand. 
“Hm, Trevor.” Eddie hummed quietly beside you. 
Despite the cold, he took the needed steps down to speak to you at a volume that didn’t require yelling. “Hey, I’m sorry for leaving you at the hospital so suddenly, Andreas’ car broke down when she tried to leave from work, and I had to go help her-”
“Oh, please, don’t worry about it, it’s okay!” You reassured him from any guilt. “Seriously, I was out for most of my time there, and you already helped so much with bringing me there.”
“Yeah, and I was going to head back to check on you, but they told me your partner-”
“Yeah, me! Y’know…” Eddie interjected with a wave, as you suppressed the roll from your eye, watching him proudly identify himself as such with an eager point of his finger. 
“Yeah, hey, Eddie, been a long time since I’ve seen ya, man-”
“Oh, Y/N! Trevor told me all about you!” Andreas' voice echoed from the front door, as her robe clung closely to her body in an effort to house any warmth she could. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, nothing to worry about, just a couple stitches and a concussion.” As polite as they were, your flannel was only doing so much to shield you from the cold, which was already in hand causing that throb to return from the sharp blinding of the sun. Why wouldn’t they shut up?
Eddie watched the twitch of your eye succumb to your expression. If anything from the last seven years taught him anything, it was that you were two sentences away from a fully engraved scowl chiseling your face; always so unaware of how blatant your emotions showcased. “Speaking of which, I should probably go get her to lay down, and rest!” Eddie smiled, as he took your hand up the stairs to your front door. 
“Of course, no problem.” Trevor kindly smiled. “And, hey, keep my ladder as long as you need, don’t worry about it.” 
An exchange of ‘thank you’s’ finally allowed your neighbor to leave you be, as the key slid into the lock of your door. “That was Andrea, his girlfriend. Are you gonna be jealous if I speak to her, too?”
His laughter warmed the chilled air that smoked his breath. “Fuck off, sweetheart.”
Your house had been all but welcoming upon the first steps. A puddle of blood had stained your wooden floor with the injuries of your head, as fallen garlands messily draped down your walls from your lack of skills with a hammer and nail. You’d never admit to him in a lifetime, but Eddie Munson was surely right that you, personally, were too dimwitted to use tools with no guidance. Turns out a leveler and stud sensor were actually quite useful in keeping your house from being hammered with the countless holes that now decorated your walls. You watched Eddie take in the amateur scenery, his will working overtime to stifle the chuckle that quivered his lips thin. “You make any comments, and I’ll kick you out.”
His hands flew up in defense. “I wasn’t going to say anything- although, how gnarly would a photo of your blood be as our next album cover?”
Giggles of shock coming from you rang in his ear like a catchy melody. “Listen, you came here to help, so please do. I want to shower, and sleep-”
“And eat. That hospital food was shit.” He prioritized. “Go shower, I’ll make you some breakfast,” his watch proved otherwise, “or lunch, I guess, and you can eat before you sleep- oh! And take your medicine, as well. I’ll switch out your bandages when you’re done showering. Don’t worry about anything here, okay? Just relax for me.”
And you did just so, following the words of his advice brought you to the warmth of your shower, where your limbs fell slack from destressing. You worked around the stitching of your head that stung under hot water, as you maneuvered your hair through the rainfall of the showerhead. But too much steam was beginning to blur your vision, and your shower was cut unfortunately short after you swiftly rid your body of any lingering antiseptic smell that clung to you. 
“Ow, Eddie!” Your hand squeezed his, as your forehead became cushioned by the tone of his torso, where he stood before you. 
As you sat on the toilet, he looked down, and caressed your head gently. “Sorry, sweetheart, just gotta get it clean, ‘s all.” A new square of gauze concealed your wound, before a long strip of bandage secured itself around your forehead. Your head lifted from the comfort of his belly, and he bent at the waist to examine your face. A smile grew so naturally. “There… beautiful as always.” There was no denying the lunge in your heart that soared at his words, but your stubbornness withheld the swoon that would have usually followed with a new inure look to your face. Eddie guffawed at your pertinaciousness. “Fine, I hope you know you have a bald spot on the back of your head.”
And he devilishly smiled at your sudden movements to feel around your hair. “It’s only because of the stitches.” You gruffed in protest. “Plus, what the back of my head looks like is none of my business.”
“Still, you’re balding before me.”
And you wanted so desperately to wipe that smirk off his face. “Push back your bangs right now.”
Touche. “You should really eat your food before I spit in it.”
You had the liberty of delving into Eddie Munson’s personally made lukewarm tomato soup, and a sandwich so untimely perfect, the burnt bread did little to match the cheese that surely did not melt. And yet, it did everything to fill that little hole in your heart, as one bite brought you back to the cozy trailer, where endless nights were spent concocting meals from ingredients that scientifically went together, but for some reason refused to work when Eddie touched them. 
He left you alone in the comfort of your bedroom that was once shared with him, as you quietly endured enjoyed your meal, and sat with the events that came about. Seeing Eddie had tumultuously screwed with your already bruised head, and set you back a mile on the path to peace. Where you blamed yourself over the rise of bubbling feelings, you also gave yourself the grace of remembering this man had been the love of your life for seven years. Facing him would be anything but peaceful, and yet, his stupid, round face managed to conjure that settling tranquility of deep contentment within your heart that only ever built under his hands of love and care. But he also managed to tear it, and that was something beyond the repairs of five months apart. No matter how brutal. Your pillow still stained with the tears of endless cries over the insecurities of no longer being good enough for him. But if you sniffed deep enough, his burrowed cologne would fume into your nose at night that allowed you to gain a safe sleep during the dark hours. 
How polarizing he could be was beyond the study of any scientist. 
Between the last slurp of your soup, your eyes succumbed to the heaviness of your eyelids, as what was intended to be a half an hour nap prolonged into a five hour doze, until the sun decided to rest for the evening, bleeding its red into a darkening sky. As advised by your doctor, a couple pills were to be popped to alleviate that ache that would haunt you for days to come, so with a march to the kitchen ahead, you called for the man you needed most. “Eddie!” Drowned by your tiredness, your voice did little to amplify his name from the second floor. “Eddie!” But a second call of his name proved to be useless when nothing followed in return.
Dr. Rosenthal surely hadn’t been lying about the aftermath of dizziness, as the simple event of walking down your staircase had turned into an olympic sport that nearly caused another blow to your head if it hadn’t been for the obscene tightness of your grip on the railing that descended. “Eddie, seriously! I’ve been calling you, can’t you hear?!”
The quietness of your home answered back, as you approached the bottom steps of the stairs, where suddenly soft lights straightened the blurred lines of your eyes to the clarity of a beautiful glow. Warm lanterns and sticks of candles kindled your chimney and center table, where red bows of various sizes decorated themselves along your living room to match the ribbon of your Christmas tree that had not been put up prior to your waking. Sweet scents of cinnamon and pines worked magically to calm the agitated nerves of your head, and your eyes dragged in awe to the breathtaking display of green garlands that dressed your home to the Christmas perfection you always dreamed of. 
Your eyes watered, and though you knew he wouldn’t answer, you still quietly spoke. “Eddie?”
So simple, yet so fulfilling, your heart soared at the work of his hands that ached for your happiness. While it did not amount to the pain he once dragged you through, a meaningful smile that hadn’t been flashed in months finally etched its place onto your face where it perfectly belonged.
And much to your dismay, but simultaneously your biggest hope… it was because of him. 
While it broke your spirit for his efforts to take so long to return, you smiled through your hurting cries, as you finally gained the wish for your Eddie—once lost, now running through the wooded path to be found—to return. And with it, a note to keep your heart content with the soundness of peace. Whether it be with Eddie. Whether it not be with Eddie. 
At the very least, you got your Christmas spirit. 
Management wants to bitch me out, I’m sorry I had to leave you :( but I’m gonna convince ‘em to let me stay in Indy for a while. Kinda hard to say no to a face like mine, you know? You know. Call me to make sure you’re okay, sweetheart, or I’ll break into your house! - Love, Eddie
P.S, gave Trevor his ladder back, so don’t speak to him :)
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megalony · 26 days
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This is an Evan x Reader x Eddie imagine, based on a lovely anon request, kind of like my Doctor Diaz fic. I hope you will all like it I loved writing this. Let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: When (Y/n), Eddie and all their kids bar one get food poisoning, Evan has to look after them all. And he loves it.
Enjoy.
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Eddie leaned forward and slumped his elbows down on the table, but his eyes flitted to the right to look at the girls sat next to him.
The sight of (Y/n) swaying Nina from side to side in her arms made Eddie's lips curve up into a grin. It was something that Eddie and Evan would never get tired of seeing, which was a good thing considering the three of them had five kids in total now.
And Nina was by far their easiest baby, she didn't fuss, she barely cried and she settled for her naps almost straight away. And she didn't care which parent or person was holding her. All the team had been able to hold and cuddle Nina for ages and she didn't fuss or cry or scream out.
When they had Lois, she was attached to (Y/n), if Eddie or Evan held her for too long she would cry out for her mum. And Eddie knew that had hurt Evan. She was his first baby and he couldn't cradle her all night long like he wanted.
Pete had been a fussy baby, but he had colic so he was always unsettled and crying because he was in pain. They wouldn't have been able to bring him out to a restaurant like this when he was one month old like they could Nina.
Grace had been a daddy's girl through and through and she still was. If Eddie passed her to Evan, she didn't fuss. But if he passed her to (Y/n) she would wake up immediately and if Bobby held her, she knew instantly that it wasn't one of her dads and she would scream.
"Daddy…"
Shifting his eyes from (Y/n) to the highchair resting between them, Eddie smiled softly at Grace. She dropped the children's menu they had put in front of her and held her arms out expectingly.
She made grabby fists in his direction and began to whimper, shedding superficial tears until Eddie sighed and gave in. He unclipped the buckle around her waist and lifted her out the highchair. He knew she wouldn't sit in it for long. They hadn't even ordered yet and she was making a fuss so she could be cuddled instead.
"Come here then," He murmured as he lifted her up and sat her down on his lap, letting her burrow into his chest. Her fingers started to trace over the tattoo on his right arm and she smiled when Eddie leaned his chin on the top of her head.
"What do you fancy, baby?" (Y/n) shifted Nina a little higher in the crook of her arm and looked down at Pete who was sat next to her, tucked up into her side.
Evan was next to Pete, Lois was sat on his lap and Chris was wedged happily between both dads.
Pete shrugged his shoulders and took anothher look over the menu, but he didn't know what to have. He didn't always like what was on the children's menu, he wanted to be like Chris and Lois who always chose of the adult menu. Even though Lois was only one year older than Pete; she was six and he was five.
"Wanna share some pasta?" (Y/n) turned and pushed her chair back so she could ease the newborn down into the pram behind her. Nina was settled now and she'd had a bottle just before they came out, she should sleep through now until they got her back home. And if not, (Y/n) knew Evan would be up and over to take her before her or Eddie could move an inch.
When Pete nodded and smiled, (Y/n) put the menu back in the middle of the table and looked round at the rest of her family.
"Pasta." Chris agreed and smiled when Eddie nodded and muttered "We'll have that too," Referring to him and Grace. She was a fussy eater but she would pick at whatever Eddie ate and if they shared it, she would be more inclined to eat.
"We having pasta too, papa?"
"You can have that if you want baby, I'll have cottage pie." Evan let Lois shuffle back into him and lean her head back on his shoulder.
Pasta was the main dish Bobby had been cooking on almost every shift this week and Evan was done with it. He'd had spag bol, mac and cheese, carbonara. He was finished with pasta, the sight was making him feel queasy and he needed something else.
"That makes you the odd one out." Eddie commented with a grin while Evan rolled his eyes and pretended to laugh.
He was more than happy being the odd one out if the rest of them wanted to get red sauce stained all down their clothes and make a mess while they were out in public.
Evan would rather play it safe.
***
(Y/n) pressed her palm into the wall and used it as leverage to propell herself from the bedroom. Her feet crumpled beneath her and her legs felt like they had turned to jelly as she stumbled down the hall towards the bathroom.
Her forehead pressed against the wood and she gave it a shove but her throat tightened when the door didn't open. She bashed her knuckles on the door and slumped her body against it, wondering which of her family was held up inside.
"Occupied." Eddie's grumbled response came through the door and (Y/n) couldn't help but cry in response.
"I- I- Eddie please! Emergency!" (Y/n)'s gurgled response and the way she started to gag and croak told Eddie she was going to be sick. Whether or not he opened the door, (Y/n) would be sick and she would rather throw up in the sink or in the very least, on the bathroom floor rather than out here on the carpet.
As soon as the lock clicked, (Y/n) stumbled in but she froze when she turned towards the toilet.
Chris was in here too. The twelve-year-old was knelt down on the floor, hunched over with his hands on the toilet and his head in the bowl.
And then there was Eddie. He was sat with his back against the wall on the left side of the door, his feet wedged up against the bottom of the toilet. His arms were bound around his legs that were coiled up to his stomach and his forehead had been resting on his knees until (Y/n) rushed in.
He looked terrible. His skin had lost all colour, he was reduced to an ungodly shade of grey (Y/n) only ever saw on him when he was ill or when he had been in hospital after he got shot. His eyes were rimmed with dark purple and black streaks. His lips were no longer a loving shade of ruby red but were now pale and almost hazy blue. And his body was shaking back and forth against the wall.
(Y/n) couldn't spend long looking at one of her boys. She spared Chris and Eddie a glance before she turned to the right and grabbed the sink just in time to throw up. Her chest imbedded into the edge of the sink and her fingers scratched into the cold porcelean.
She coughed, heaved and gasped as she tried to breathe but couldn't fathom how when she couldn't stop throwing up.
"Mum sick too?" Chris lifted his head from the toilet and looked tiredly over his shoulder. He too had no colour to his skin, his complexion was pale, his eyes were half lidded and he was starting to sweat.
A quiet whine left Chris's lips when Eddie nudged him to the side, grunting as he parted his knees to the side and leant over to throw up into the toilet.
Eddie spat into the toilet and flopped back, letting his head bang against the wall with a loud thud. He gasped for breath, but when he looked across at (Y/n) and noticed her barely able to keep herself stood up, he flinched.
"Oh God… Evan! Babe!" Eddie hollered as loudly as he could but his voice was croaky and his throat felt inflamed.
He let his left arm slump back over his knees that were pinned into his throbbing stomach. But he moved his right hand, clenching it into a fist so he could ram his fist on the wall. He hit the wall a few times, loud enough to make an echo course throughout the house. They needed some help.
"What's… going on?"
The door opened again but Evan didn't dare step inside. He darted his eyes between the boys and (Y/n) who finally pulled away from the sink. But Evan shivered when he watched her knees quake and she used the sink as leverage to lower herself down to the floor. Her legs curled beneath her and she let her head press against the sink that felt refreshing and cold against her clammy skin.
"You okay?" The way Eddie tilted his head to one side and looked up at Evan made him shiver.
"Me? I'm good, but you two look like death on legs."
"I th- I think we've got food poisoning, Pete's sick too. Go c-check the girls." Eddie grimaced and closed his eyes when the bathroom light started to become far too bright for his eyes.
If Evan was alright, Eddie would guess they all got some sort of food poisoning from the pasta they ate last night. They all had the same thing and if Evan was fine, then that seemed to cement things.
When Chris started crying out for Eddie, he practically crawled into the boy's room. He found Chris struggling to get out of bed, feeling horrid and his stomach aching. And poor Pete was curled up in bed, shivering and whimpering saying his stomach hurt.
"Oh fuck, okay hang tight." Evan spun on his heels and darted out of the bathroom. He would be back to carry them all back to bed in a minute, once he'd checked on the rest of the kids.
He poked his head around the boy's door since it was open and he wanted to see if Pete had been sick or if he was still asleep. He had about four teddies cuddled to his chest, he was shaking and the little whimpers he let out told Evan that he was indeed awake. But he was somewhat settled for now and Evan would come back to give him some medicine soon.
Bypassing their room, Evan headed into the girl's room and flicked on the light. He didn't like what he was faced with.
"Papa, I don't feel well." Lois whimpered, nuzzling her face into the pillow but she couldn't get back to sleep now. Her tummy hurt, it felt like her insides were twisting in knots and she wasn't sure if she needed to go to the toilet or throw up.
Evan couldn't help the way his lips pulled into a grimace when he looked between Lois and the floor.
Sometime during the night, she had thrown up on the floor and clearly, she didn't remember or realise she'd done it.
"I know baby girl, no one's well today. Um, why don't you go hop in our bed while I sort out? Mum and daddy will be back in bed in a minute."
His eyes followed her as she groggily sat up and shuffled out of bed, but the moment Lois looked down and realised she had thrown up during the night, her face fell. Her lips parted and tears welled in her eyes before she hurriedly looked up at Evan. "I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to."
"It's alright baby, hey it's okay. Go get Pete and tell him to get in our bed, I want you all where I can look after you." When she shuffled past him, Evan leaned over and kissed the top of her head. He didn't want her apologising when she couldn't help it.
He figured all his family were going to be held up in bed for the next few days and he was going to have to call Bobby and ask for a few days off. If all the kids- minus Nina who was only a month old- were ill and both Eddie and (Y/n) were out of action, that left Evan to care for them. Something he secretly loved doing.
His attention turned to the cot on the other side of the room and he headed over to see if Grace was okay or not. She had eaten about half of Eddie's dinner last night so Evan would guess she was going to be sick too.
"Papa," Grace tried to stand up in her cot and she held her arms out for him. She looked very flushed and her eyes were red and puffy as she sobbed. He knew she had been fine when he put her to bed last night and when (Y/n) checked on her this morning while she was up with Nina.
"Come here, baby-cake."
Reaching down, Evan gently scooped her up but he grimaced and his nose crinkled when she threw up on him. Right on his chest. Right in the centre of his shirt. He thanked God he had gone to bed in pyjamas last night and not just his boxers or he might have thrown up too.
A horrid scream gurgled past Grace's lips when Evan set her back down in the cot. "Baby- shh just one second, please." He carefully reeled his shirt over his head and dumped it on the floor, he would get Grace in bed and then clean up. "I'm here, okay I'm here. Let's go get everyone else, you're all having a day in bed."
"With you?"
"I'm playing doctor today, baby-cake."
Evan headed out the room but he juggled Grace higher on his chest when she wrapped her arms around his neck. She wasn't going to let him put her down. He aimed for the bathroom and his lips pressed into a thin line when he looked between them all.
"Baby, sit with daddy look. Careful, she's just thrown up on me." He leaned down and eased Grace into Eddie's arms.
A groan tumbled past Eddie's lips when Grace sat on his stomach and flopped forward onto his chest. Her head tucked beneath his chin and she scrunched his shirt up in her hands, sniffling into his neck. He moved his hand to cradle her bum and rubbed his other palm up and down her back.
"Shh, s'okay. Dad's gonna look after us all today, hm?" He pressed his lips to the top of Grace's head and when he looked up at Evan, he saw him grin in their direction.
(Y/n) coiled both arms around her waist and pressed down until she was about to explode. Her stomach was physically twisting. Her throat burned like she had swallowed bleach and she wanted nothing more than to go to sleep but her body was aching too much for that to happen. She was in agony.
She felt tears burning in her eyes when Evan crouched down beside her and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek. At least with them all having food poisoning, it couldn't be passed onto Evan or Nina. So he could kiss and cuddle them all he liked and not make himself sick. It was a good job he had chosen something different to eat last night.
His arms wound around her and he effortlessly scooped her up. He could see from how she was practically laid on the floor that she wasn't going to be able to walk back to bed. And he didn't want to waste time trying to support her to walk when he could just carry her instead.
"Eight of us in this house, and only me and the baby are alright."
***
"There we go. You're a good girl, hm?" A tender smile flooded Evan's face as he looked down at the newborn in his arms.
He let his weight fall back until his hips bumped into the kitchen counter and he crossed one leg over the other. He had Nina cuddled up in his left arm, her eyes half-lidded as she was starting to fall back into another nap which didn't surprise Evan. While he had been bustling about the house for the last hour, she had been awake and gurgling into his chest.
He put the washing on, cleaned up and tidied all the bedrooms and made something to eat. He had been out for a drive a little while ago and Nina had slept through the whole ride.
Carefully, he removed the bottle from her lips and set it down on the side so he could shift Nina up onto his chest. He felt her hand begin to tap against his chest while her chin perched on his shoulder and her soft breaths fanned against his neck.
Even though he had been looking after everyone in the house, it had been a little strange but wonderful for Evan to get sone one to one time with Nina. (Y/n) and Eddie could barely stay awake other than to throw up or groan and shuffle around in bed. They were occupied trying to settle the rest of the kids and keep them calm.
So Nina had been Evan's priority because he was fine to change her and feed her and coo and entertain her.
"We're alright aren't we, baby girl? We didn't eat the pasta." He murmured softly while he smoothed his hand up and down her back and turned around to face the kitchen counter. "Alright, we need some medicine for everyone, and you can go lay with mummy."
His left arm moved up and down to sway Nina against his chest and shoulder and he grabbed the medicine bottles from the cupboard. He had been dosing them all up every four hours but Pete and Grace were horrid when it came to taking their medicine. And so was (Y/n) when she threw it up earlier and Eddie felt drowsy after taking his painkillers.
Once all the medicine was laid out on the counter, Evan moved his right hand to cradle the back of Nina's head and he walked out of the kitchen, past the dining room and into he lounge.
Yesterday, everyone had been held up in bed and they mostly slept and threw up. But when Pete and Lois projectile vomited all over the bed this morning, Evan evicted them. They were lucky that they had two large sofas in the living room and one of them was a sofa bed. So Evan had pulled the bed out and everyone was in the lounge. Curtains closed, Disney movies stacked and layered the floor and blankets and pillows were strewn about everywhere.
His heart softened when he looked at his unwell, bed-ridden family.
Eddie was wedged in the left corner, half propped up by at least three pillows. He had been burning up all night so he was laid in his boxers and nothing else which was a sight Evan was happily drinking in whenever he could. He had Grace curled up on his chest, her head tucked right against his neck under his chin and his arms were wound around her.
Pete and Lois were squashed in the middle, sniffing and squirming every now and then. Neither of them had slept well during the night. Chris was laid across the foot of the bed, propped up on two pillows as he laid on his stomach to try and relieve the pain he felt.
And (Y/n) was huddled right in the other corner of the bed, her head buried in a pillow. Her arms were wound around her waist, her knees were slightly coiled up and she had a blanket tucked around her since she was cold and the others were burning. She was wearing a pair of Evan's jogging bottoms and one of his grey lounge shirts.
"She's having a nap, do you want her for a bit?"
A small, strained smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips and she nodded, if a bit gruffly and held her arms out. She hadn't spent a lot of time with Nina this last day.
She let Evan lean over her and when he was close enough, she tilted her head back and pressed her lips against his neck. She breathed in his scent and nudged her nose into his skin which caused a laugh to vibrate through his chest and down to her. He eased Nina onto her chest and kissed her head before he leaned up and kissed (Y/n)'s lips.
(Y/n) tilted her head down and pressed her chapped lips to the top of Nina's head who was quietly yawning and smacking her lips together.
She stayed cuddled up with Nina but she lifted her gaze to watch Evan drift out of the room and come back a few moments later.
Medicine time.
"Alright, let's get you all sorted. Chris?"
The eldest gingerly lifted his head and pushed up onto his knees on the bed so he wasn't lying down. His hands moved to his knees and his nose scrunched up when Evan held out the small syringe of calpol medicine. He grimaced and shook his head after he'd taken both doses and quickly flopped down onto his stomach. He knew the rules, they had to let their medicine settle for at least five minutes before they had a drink to wash it down.
"Lois, baby?" Evan sat down on the end of the bed near Eddie's feet and motioned for Lois to move over to him but she shook her head. She shifted to the side and tried to burrow herself under Eddie's arm.
"Medicine or you go in your own bed tonight." Eddie warned and shifted his arms tighter around Grace so Lois couldn't hide behind him. She couldn't have the privillege of staying here with them now or tonight if she didn't take her meds. She would only feel worse if she refused.
They were all still being sick. They managed lunch and dinner yesterday but started throwing up during the night again. And both Eddie and (Y/n) weren't doing well on intaking any fluids.
With a grumble and a whine that made her nose scrunch up and look like (Y/n), Lois crawled down the middle of the bed until she was slumped next to Evan's knee.
The moment she took the medicine, Lois started to cough and her throat tightened as she began to gag. Evan looped his hands beneath her arms and lifted her up until she was stood between his legs. He let her slump her head on his shoulder and he smoothed his hand up and down her back to try and coax her to calm down. If she panicked and gagged she would definitely be sick.
"Good girl." He kept her leant on his chest while he filled another syringe and waved his hand for Pete to come over to him.
Pete could barely keep his eyes open. He leaned forward with his legs crossed beneath him and his arms limp on his lap. He managed to keep his head up, coughed as he took his medicine, then flopped back down with a groan.
"Okay, and one for baby-cake." Evan held out the syringe to Eddie since the two of them were cuddled together.
"Have this baby, then you can have some juice." Eddie tilted his head to the side and brushed his finger over Grace's cheek to coax her into opening her eyes. He didn't mind her staying curled up on his chest as long as she took her medicine.
It worked to his advantage that she didn't seem to know what was going on as she was half asleep. when Eddie pressed the medicine to her lips, she accepted it before she started to whimper and tuck herself more into his neck.
"Now you two."
"No, Evan I can't, I- I'll throw it up."
"Mi amor, if the kids had to then so do you." Eddie flopped his head back against the pillow and turned to look over at (Y/n). He knew she was worried about being sick but she had to try.
(Y/n) grimaced and made sure Nina was settled on her chest before she took the spoon Evan held out to her. With her eyes closed, (Y/n) chugged the medicine as quickly as she could and shivered when she felt her stomach twist, she really felt sick now.
Her hand pressed to her mouth and she tilted her head back, shoulders quaking as she swallowed at least three times so she didn't throw it up.
Reaching out, Eddie took the spoon and downed the medicine, shaking his head and cracking his jaw as he groaned at the taste. But he would take anything if it stopped him throwing up and having the taste of acid and bile at the back of his throat.
"See, you've all been model patients." Evan perched his chin on Lois's shoulder and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek to make her smile. "I got some fluid IVs from the station earlier, like you said. Want me to hook you both up to one? I got those things too… diuretics, since none of you are keeping any fluids down."
Evan had gone to the station to have a word with Bobby, just to make sure Eddie had the rest of the week off and Evan had the next four days. While he was there, he let the team steal Nina for a cuddle and he went in the back and found some saline bags and IV lines and needles. He knew neither of his partners were managing to keep much fluids down and they had thrown up all their meals yesterday.
He needed some in case the kids got any worse too. And he found diuretics to give to all of them except Grace as she was only a toddler. It would give all of them some vitamins and essentials and keep them boosted with all the throwing up they had done between them.
"Hook us up, I feel like shit."
Evan reached his hand down and bashed Eddie's thigh, muttering a quiet 'language' and frowning playfully at him.
"Alright, whoever wants a bath shuffle off the bed and wait in the hall please. That way we have no wires getting pulled out." A bath might make the kids feel better and more inclined to sleep. And it would let Eddie and (Y/n) have a while to themselves to be on a drip without anyone wriggling around or lying on the wires and pulling them out.
Lois tiredly shuffled out of Evan's arms and flopped down to her feet but she could barely hold herself up. She shuffled into the hall while Pete gruffly followed along, dragging his feet behind him.
"Go get a bath, girlie." Eddie gently pulled Grace off his chest and leaned over to set her down on her feet. She swayed as she waddled over and took Lois's hand, clinging to her sister until Evan came back. She wanted one of her parents, she wanted love and attention and cuddles galore.
"Babe…" (Y/n) shuffled across the bed and moved her arms towards Eddie who faintly smiled and reached out for Nina. He was fine with needles whereas (Y/n) wasn't a fan and it made her feel lightheaded. When she had her bloods taken at the doctors, the boys always had to go with her as she had a tendency to faint.
(Y/n) shuffled down and tucked her face into Eddie's shoulder, kissing his bare skin as she dragged her blanket higher around her. A smile pulled at her lips when Chris moved up and snuggled himself down into the corner where (Y/n) had just been sitting so she was now between two of her boys.
Tilting his head to the side, Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of (Y/n)'s head and started to run one hand up and down Nina's back. She was well and truly off to sleep now but she could stay with them a while longer and have a cuddle before she went in her cot.
When Evan came back with the bag of goodies Hen had graceously helped him rob from the station, he sat down next to Eddie's thigh. He took his chance to cup Eddie's chin in his hand and tilt his head up for a kiss. He was overjoyed that food poisoning couldn't be contagious like a sickness bug, it meant Evan could kiss and snuggle his partners all he liked without getting ill himself.
"I look like shit," Eddie murmured with a raised brow. He knew he looked far from his best and he felt like he was on death's door, but the goofy smile and the flash of teeth made Eddie's stomach flip.
"Hm, you look good to me." Evan stole another kiss and took the chance to bite down on Eddie's lip just to make him groan. "Where'd you want it?"
A tired, lopsided smile pulled at Eddie's lips and he kept his left hand on Nina's back while he held his right hand out to Evan. If the IV was on his right hand, he could rest his arm on the edge of the sofa bed or on a cushion so none of the kids bumped into him or pulled it out by mistake. And it meant he could loop his left arm around (Y/n) or the kids if he wanted to.
Eddie closed his eyes and pressed his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head. Breathing into her hair and focusing on the feeling of her lips pressing hollow kisses up and down his shoulder and over as much of his neck as she could reach.
He stayed still and patient while Evan swiped an anticeptic wipe across the back of his hand and poked around to find a good vein. He found one and got out a needle and cap.
"Here you go, babe." His thumb pressed down on the back of Eddie's hand over the vein and he carefully inserted the needle. He tore off two pieces of medical tape to secure it in place and attached the fluid line.
Evan took the opportunity to lean over Eddie, give him another searing kiss and place the IV bag on the back of the sofa behind the pillows. He made sure the wire wasn't tangled or crumpled and it was wide open. Being behind the pillows stopped any of the kids from playing with it or bursting it when they came back.
"Your turn," Evan spoke gently and smiled when (Y/n) placed her right hand on his thigh while her left hand stayed curled around Eddie's bicep. She kept her cheek resting on his shoulder and shuffled a bit higher so her lips and nose could brush against Eddie's neck. She didn't want to see the needle go into her skin.
She felt Evan swab the back of her hand and poke around to find a suitable vein. But the moment the needle capped into her vein, (Y/n) could feel her stomach giving an awful twist and she scrunched her nose and pushed further into Eddie.
It felt like her pulse was throbbing under every inch of her skin and her head started to pound and feel like it was building up ready to explode.
"All done-"
Eddie groaned and brought his knees up near his stomach out of shock and instinct when (Y/n)'s forehead bashed into the side of his neck. He struggled to take a proper breath and he tried to keep his eyes on Evan when he felt (Y/n) slump and loll against his left arm.
She'd fainted.
"Oh God, come here," Evan moved the IV tube around the back of (Y/n) and tucked the saline bag behind the pillows next to Eddie's one.
He slipped a hand beneath her neck and Eddie's shoulder and gently reeled her up away from Eddie so she could slump back into the pillows. Evan expected a similar reaction, especially considering she didn't do well with needles and she hadn't eaten anything which would make her more lightheaded than usual.
He gently eased her back into the den of pillows and let her head slump to the right near Eddie. She would come around in a moment.
"Look after your mum for me while I do bath time." Evan murmured as he leaned over and kissed the top of Chris's head.
Chris leaned to the right, wrapping an arm around (Y/n)'s waist and leaning his head on her arm. He grinned when Evan kissed (Y/n)'s temple, then moved to do the same to Eddie and Nina before he climbed off the bed. Three of their five kids were waiting patiently to get a bath.
And when Evan looked across at them, his smile softened like butter. Lois was swaying back and forth on her heels, trying to stay awake and upright but she looked like she was about to collapse. Pete was leaning back against the wall with an arm around his stomach and his thumb between his teeth. Then there was Grace. The toddler was sat on the floor with tired eyes and her arms stretched up in Evan's direction.
"Bathroom, troop."
He leaned down and scooped Grace up so he could sit her on his hip while Lois and Pete walked in front of him towards the bathroom. Their movements were sluggish and their feet were shuffling along behind them, they were growing tired.
It made Evan's heart soften to see Lois and Pete slump down on the bath mat and lean their heads on the edge of the bath. They looked just like they were about to fall asleep and it made him smile. He turned on the bath and let Lois add half a bottle of bubbles.
"Let's get some pjs," He spoke quietly into Grace's hair and headed into the girl's room to find them some clothes to change into.
Evan crouched down in front of the bath, pressing his knees into the bottom of the tub while he turned off the taps and nodded for Pete and Lois to climb in. He tried to unlatch Grace's arms from his neck but she held tight, tucking her face into his neck as she grumbled.
"No."
"Oh, come on girlie, you'll feel better." Evan leaned over and fought hard to undo Grace's hold over his neck that was beginning to ache. Finally, she seemed to relent and flopped her arms down into the bath, splashing bubbles up high into the air.
Grimacing, Evan pulled back and sighed. He reeled his shirt up over his head and tossed it into the wash basket. They could splash him all they wanted today and he wouldn't fuss, as long as the kids felt better and smiled.
His arms folded on the side of the bath and he perched his chin on his arms, smiling when Pete turned around and placed a wad of bubbles right on the end of his nose.
"Thanks, buddy." He mumbled softly and reached a hand down into the water to grab a fistful of bubbles and splatter them onto Pete's hair.
His eyes cast down to Grace who was sat in the centre of the bath, right in front of him and he frowned when she reached up and patted his cheek. "Shave." She whispered, causing Evan to grin despite his confusion.
"I shaved this morning, I'll have you know." He moved his hand to run along his chin and down his neck. Evan shaved every morning. He didn't like facial hair, he never tried to grow a beard because the one time he did when Lois was a toddler, she cried when she saw his beard. Since then, he always shaved.
Whereas the kids didn't seem to mind when Eddie grew out his facial hair. But they were all used to Eddie having stubble most of the time so a beard wasn't a lot different. Both men had taken to shaving every day recently.
"No, shave."
His lips curled into a frown and his eyes narrowed down on his little girl, but a quiet grumble left his lips when he realised what she meant.
Grace found a handful of bubbles and smeared them all along Evan's face, lips and down his neck until he was coughing and snorting lavender bubbles. She then dabbed her hand in the water, and very carefully started to brush her index finger through the bubbles. She was pretending to shave him.
Evan stayed still and silent, closing his eyes for a moment when grace swiped the bubbles rather close to his eyes over his cheekbones. And he tilted his head back to let her clean the bubbles from down his neck.
Her gentle touch was soft and rather precise and delicate and Evan found himself smiling brightly. He was so used to the kids messing and tracing over all his various tattoos, but this was different.
"All done." Grave dipped both her hands in the warm water and planted them down on Evan's face, patting him like she was pretending to apply cream to his face.
"Is that better, baby-cake?"
Grace nodded with a tired smile before she leaned her head forward and pressed her cheek down into his arm. She curled both hands around Evan's arm that was dangling in the water and leaned on his other arm. Her eyes fell closed and she curled up in the water as if she was lying in his arms.
Leaning down, Evan kissed the top of her head and slid both hands into the water. One arm stayed around her front while his other hand reached out to mess with the bath toys Lois was pushing around the water.
The eldest girl was laid back so the water was up to her chin and she was tossing the rubber toys back and forth, but she wasn't really bothered with them. She was too tired to play which told Evan she really was ill. And Pete wasn't much better.
He leaned over and slumped himself against Evan's free arm and closed his eyes.
"Have we all had enough?" Evan mumbled quietly, looking around the three of them who all nodded. "Alright, one… two… three." He helped each of them out and handed them a towel, but a sigh passed through his lips when he looked down at Pete.
He flopped across Evan's lap, curling up with his arms around his middle and his head on Evan's jogging bottoms. The material turned a dark shade of grey and Evan tried not to grimace at the feeling of his bottoms now sticking to his legs. He knew Pete couldn't help it, he was sick and almost asleep.
"No… no! Papa mine!" Grace tried to nudge Pete off of Evan's lap but she stopped when Evan wrapped a towel around her and moved her to stand at his side.
"No, jealous bum, you can share me."
He wrapped a towel over Pete who seemed content just to wait and lie where he was. While Lois got herself dried and dressed, Evan dried Grace and looked around for her pull-up and pyjamas.
Grace flopped down on her back and kicked her legs out at Evan with the last little bit of energy she had. A smile on her face and a squeal passing her lips when Evan caught both her ankles in one hand and tugged her closer. He slipped on her pull-up and fought to get her into her onesie when she wriggled around on her back like a worm, just to wind him up and be cheeky.
"Go find daddy." Evan murmured as he lifted Grace to her feet and sent her on her way with a kiss on her temple.
She followed Lois out the bathroom, both respectively shouting for (Y/n) and Eddie.
"Pete… and you're asleep."
With his hands beneath Pete's arms, he carefully shuffled Pete off his lap and onto the bath mat in front of him. He dried him off and easily got him into his pyjamas while Pete barely turned his head or made a sound.
"I guess you're mine this afternoon buddy, hm?" Evan carefully lifted Pete up and settled him down on his chest with his face tucked into Evan's neck. He smoothed his hand up and down Pete's back as he walked down the hall and back into the living room towards the rest of his family.
A burning smile flooded Evan's face when he looked over them all. Eddie still had Nina curled up on his chest, but he now had Grace under his right arm and she had one hand on Nina's back as if she was soothing the youngest girl to sleep. (Y/n) had Lois curled up between her legs and Chris still attached to her left side.
Moving over, Evan sat down next to Chris and did his best to wedge himself into the tiny space at the end between Chris and the arm of the sofa. He kept Pete curled up on his chest and draped a blanket around them both.
"I think I'm rather good at playing doctor, don't you?"
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apomaro-mellow · 7 months
Text
Wrong Number 2
Someone said they liked when authors put their super-specific jobs in fics so I hope ya like Steve havin a (kinda romanticized) past job of mine.
For the first time in his life, Steve felt like the stereotypical young person who was always glued to his phone. Every time it made a noise or vibrated, his arm shot out like lightning, hoping with every fiber of his being that it was the mystery number.
It had been about five days since he'd sent that first message and he'd been worried about their conversations being stale. But that wasn't an issue. The only times their talks lulled was when they went to bed.
And even that was after texting late into the night. Steve would watch the clock go from 9 to 10 and promise to get to sleep at a reasonable hour. And then it would be midnight and what was a few minutes after that? Then he'd look up and it would be 2 in the morning.
Texting this guy had become the highlight of Steve's days. To the point where he didn't even realize Friday had come until one of his students mentioned it.
Then, purely out of habit, he asked: "Any weekend plans?"
"I've got a soccer game", Zach answered.
"My parents are having date night", Belinda said.
And normally Steve himself would be thinking about going out and finding someone for the night. But the idea hadn't come to him for once. He knew why, but he didn't fully process it until he got home to Robin, who was in the middle of cooking breakfast for dinner it seemed.
Steve was in the middle of replying to a text sent during lunch.
(12:15) I just realized you know about my off the wall job (12:17) But I have no idea what your 9 to 5 is (12:18) Your legally required to tell me if ur famous (12:18) Not bc im a clout chaser (12:19) But bc I might not have a clue who you are
[4:13] Not famous. Don't worry. I'm a teacher.
(4:15) As a former student I apologize
Robin opened the cabinet, looking for pancake mix. “Are you and that girl still texting?”
“Me and the who?”, Steve looked up from his phone.
“That girl? I assume you're finally setting up a date for this weekend?"
"She-" Steve racked his brain for a good excuse. But it was hard to do when the person who knew him the most was staring right at him.
"Whatever flaws of hers you're about to make up, I'm gonna call bullshit because your phone hasn't stopped pinging for days." She started mixing the pancake batter.
Steve looked down at the words on his screen. The one flaw of this guy was that they couldn't meet in person. But maybe it was time to close the distance just a bit.
"She's shy. Might just text a bit more before she's ready."
[4:19] No need for sorries. All my kids are great. But that's probably because I teach their favorite class.
(4:21) Oooh their favorite? (4:21) It's gotta be something like art rite? (4:22) Or are you being a smart ass cuz you teach like calculus or something?
[4:23] I teach cooking 😛
(4:23) Oh shit. (4:24) You're actually the favorite
[4:25] Toldja. Hey quick question and then possibly many more questions.
(4:26) Go ooooon
[4:27] How would you feel about spending the night playing 20 questions? Like are you free tonight?
Eddie bit his lip as he looked at Steve's words. He had picked his shifts this weekend to make sure he had plenty of time to talk to Steve. Which meant he was in fact free tonight. He replied as such and Steve said he wanted a little time to take a shower and then he'd be ready.
And because he was a little shit, Eddie took advantage of him being away from his phone.
(4:35) Since you're in the shower, I'm taking the first question. Boxers or briefs?
[4:54] Cheater. And I prefer boxer briefs. My turn?
(4:55) Go for it
Eddie was curled up on his couch, tv low and in the background as he waited for Steve's question.
[4:55] What's your name?
(4:56) THATS your first question? (4:56) Wait we've been texting for days haven't you saved my number? (4:57) What do you have me as?
Steve bit his lip, wishing he could lie to this guy, but he couldn’t. Instead he sent a screenshot of his phone.
(4:59) Misty? That’s the name of the chick?
[5:00] Yeah. But I guess I should put your actual name now, right?
It was a gamble. But this guy already knew Steve’s name. And by this point they’d been texting for nearly a week. He just wanted to know his name. He pushed back the part of himself that said he needed to know.
(5:00) It's Eddie.
Eddie. The guy he'd been talking to was named Eddie. Eddie with the long curly hair and the chunky rings who threw axes for a living. He was a far cry from the soft girls he usually dated. Or the preppy guys he usually dated.
(5:02) Favorite bug?
The question threw Steve for a moment but he decided to humor him.
[5:04] Bees 🐝I like how fuzzy they are. And I like honey. [5:05] What rings do you have?
A couple minutes later, Eddie replied with an image. It was taken from above and showed his hands lying flat on a coffee table. Steve zoomed to make out the details of each ring. He was also able to see a watch and a couple of wristbands on him.
[5:08] How did you take that picture? With your mouth? 🦭
(5:09) Did you did you just compare me to a seal???
[5:09] What other animal catches things in their mouths?
'I can be an animal with my mouth'. Thankfully, Eddie's fingers weren't as fast as his brain and he didn't send that to Steve. Eddie had in fact put his phone in his mouth the take the picture, having a real 'no thoughts, head empty moment' when Steve asked about his rings.
Steve was letting his own mind wander as he gazed at the picture. Eddie's hands were...his hands were...well they were-
(5:10) Favorite youtuber?
The adoration of Eddie's hands were interrupted by Eddie himself as their question and answers continued. The picture continued as well. Steve sent pics of his favorite pair of shoes, his hair products, and of his neck when Eddie said he didn't believe he had all these moles.
Eddie had sent pictures of one arm, covered in tats, his acoustic guitar, and a super worn copy of Peter Pan.
The hour was growing late and both of them were feeling more bold but at the same time hesitant because it felt like they were close to crossing a line.
Needing an outside opinion, Eddie consulted with The Council (the discord server with his band mates) about whether or not he should shoot his shot. Gareth told him to go for it, what harm could it do? Grant said to do it because it could potentially be the funniest catfishing story. Jeff agreed that he should, if only because their guitarist getting murdered would be a great back story.
With their unanimous approval, Eddie decided to start actively flirting with Steve.
(8:37) Soooooo ya like jazz?
[8:38] I do actually. I really love the piano.
Okay, that one was just practice. Be smooth. Be suave. None of that was in Eddie's wheelhouse but thankfully nothing he said turned Steve away. He always seemed just as eager to reply back.
(9:10) What's your oldest piece of clothing?
Eddie was thinking of his own oldest article a t-shirt that had started out overgrown on his tiny eight year old body but he'd grown into and kept over the years. It was super faded but filled with the memory of the first time he spent more than a couple of days with his uncle.
[9:12] I'd show you, but I'm wearing them right now.
Steve had closed his bedroom door before sending the text. There wasn't anything scandalous but it seemed like it could very quickly veer into that territory. All Eddie had to do was ask. If he wanted to see them, Steve would show it.
'I would like to see it.'
(9:12) I would like to see it
Eddie knew it could be anything. Maybe a holey sock. Or maybe he also had a super faded t-shirt with deep sewn-in memories as well. Maybe he was wearing a class ring?
[9:14] image.jpeg
Eddie was treated (and goddamn what a treat it was) to Steve Harrington's bottom half, barely covered in shorts with a school's logo on them. Thick thighs covered in hair. And a bulge that was there. It was very there. Eddie couldn't overstate how there it was.
He palmed his own crotch before remembering he was looking at a guy's junk and about to jerk off to it in his living room. And he had yet to answer. What was the most respectful way to say 'humina humina humina-wolf whistle-awooga'?
(9:16) Are you trying to kill me Steve?
[9:17] Do you like it?
'Awooga.'
(9:18) ❤️‍🔥 🔥 🥵
Eddie tried to think of any other way to tell Steve how hot he made him but it felt like typing words just wasn't enough.
(9:19) Can I do something insane? (9:20) And feel free to ignore me if it's too much
Steve was lying in his bed, phone of his charger now. Nothing Eddie could do would be too much. He could knock on his door and he would let him in.
[9:21] Go ahead
A second after he sent that, Steve's phone started to ring. It was Eddie. He stared for about five seconds before picking up.
"Hey."
"Hey."
If possible, Steve melted more into his bed. Eddie's voice...he didn't know what he expected but it wasn't that. He said one word and Steve wanted to wrap himself in it.
"That was pretty naughty of you, sending me that pic. I could show up to your school."
"You'd be a few years too late. These are my oldest shorts, remember?"
"Tiniest shorts maybe."
Steve laughed and Eddie was on cloud nine. He was so lost in bliss, he miscalculated and fell off the couch.
"What was that?"
"I uh, I fell. Off my couch."
"Did you fall hard?"
Eddie beamed as he got up and turned off the tv. Now that he had his voice, all he wanted to hear was the man on the other line.
"Oh super hard."
Steve let out a sound from the back of his throat and he wondered if Eddie had heard it. It was honestly amazing how the smallest things got him going. Or maybe he was just that into Eddie.
"You still there Steve?"
....."Yeah. I'm still here."
Part 4
Tag Team (closed)
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi @phantomcat94 @ladylokilaufeyson5 @dude-as-in-i-love-u @micheledawn1975 @magpiemuseum @novelnovella @marklee-blackmore @stevesbipanic @martinskis-lydias @beckkthewreck @gay-little-bitch @everywherenothere @emma-elsa-0000 @rlpersephone3259 @songbird-garden @trucoop @omgshesinsane @fantrash @7-starboi @soulminyg @larawrmonster @blackpanzy @offical-potato @aellafreya @mightbeasleep @lorelei724 @moomkin77
If you were tagged but it didn't show up in your notifications, lemme know and I'll do that thing where I tag you in a reblog instead. I know tumblr can't be trusted to function XD
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percygranate · 11 months
Text
⚠️PSA – ickybatz is back! Predators on AO3⚠️
⚠️TW for Mentions of Child Sexual Abuse, Child Abuse, Minor Sexual Content, Pedophilia, GROOMING, and Pedophile Conversations. PLEASE read and reblog if you can.
IMPORTANT UPDATE: Demobatz is NOT ickybatz, also known as batty-ruski, battyrusk.
I made a mistake by assuming due to the names, and after being in contact with Demobatz, I edited the post. I apologize for this but don't fully regret calling them out, as it helped Demobatz realize they made a mistake and it brought a lot of attention to the issue of predators on AO3 and Tumblr.
In-depth explanation [HERE]!
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This 13/16-year-old CHILD is out here asking for pedophilia requests and getting encouraged and groomed by predators.
I accidentally came across it, and I encourage you to report them and everyone interacting with their work. There is a difference between dark romance, dark fics, and straight-up romanticization of children being assaulted.
They write about these children actively partaking and enjoying it, hoping they can please the adult taking advantage of them. These works are clearly written for the type of person that gets off on it.
——— Update ———
Their way of writing to cope with past trauma was groomed and manipulated by predators on AO3.
——— Update ———
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——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———
So much for “Oh, they are a traumatized child and made a mistake.” They now know it's wrong and continue doing it, even worse than before. And people continue to support it.
Their fucking apology was absolute bullshit. And everyone that came to their defense should be ashamed of themselves.
——— False Information | Demobatz isn't Ickybatz ———
↓ Here are AO3 accounts supporting this. ↓
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Yes, they put warnings on their work and say “Don’t Like It, Don’t Read It!” But I would like to show you what they are writing, and how they are getting the attention of predators. I am sure you have to agree with me that they and everyone supporting this need to lose any type of platform they own. Demobatz should NOT be in any contact with these men.
⚠️They encourage each others to write this and Demobatz, A 13/16-YEAR-OLD, is actively putting themselves in danger by making “friends” for roleplay, and exchanging social media, with very likely, PEDOPHILES. They are actively getting groomed by people that know what they are doing.⚠️
——————————————————
↓These are their two original works↓
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Financial Struggles — The summary says it all. But I feel like I should point out their conversation under their post.
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Mother’s Milk — Sexual Assault of a male baby.
——————————————————
↓This is their work in the Stranger Things Fandom↓
Their work “Deceit” which is taking requests and actively posting has, as of May 21st, 16 Chapters.
1 — “Using this as a coping mechanism for my own trauma. Please request, any age is allowed❤️”
2 — Eddie Munson, 25 y/o | Reader, 17 y/o
3 — Uncle Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson | Reader, 6 y/o
4 — Eddie Munson, 20 y/o | Reader, 12 y/o
5 — Steve, 19 y/o & Eddie, 20 y/o | Reader, 14 y/o
6 — Dad Steve | Reader, 8 y/o
7 — Dad Steve & Eddie | Reader, 8 y/o
8 — Big Brother Steve | Reader, 4 y/o
9 — Big Brother Billy Hargrove | Reader, 6 y/o
10 — “Posting this so that you all can give me ideas on what to post next❤️ Anything is allowed/ age can be whatever you want♡♡!”
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11 — Billy & Steve | Reader, 3 y/o
12 — Hopper & Joyce | Reader, 4 y/o
13 — !BILLY HARGROVE AND A NEWBORN BABY!
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14 — Billy | Reader, 6 y/o & Max, 7 y/o
15 — “It hasn't been a week and I'm almost at 2,000 reads! Thank you all so much♡♡ Feel free to drop suggestions, request or even ideas/blurbs♡♡”
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16 — Big Brother Eddie / Reader over the years, starting at 6 y/o
——————————————————
They actively encourage pedophilia and put themselves on a silver platter for predators.
If you are still trying to justify these types of works, please do it off anon and openly so you can be blocked since you are part of the problem.
Do not send threats, bullying, or harassment their way. Block and Report.
If you know one or more of the interacting blogs, call them out.
⚠️UPDATE: 22nd of May⚠️
Dear fellow Bloggers, Demobatz pedophilia fic “Deceit” has been taken down!
Yet their two original works (mentioned above) are still there. I ask you to keep reporting them!
Demobatz is currently using Wit as their social media to exchange ideas for their CSA & incest Erotica, and worse, to roleplay with potential predators.
⚠️Update: May 25th⚠️
AO3 has removed their account or they deleted it themselves. Their Wit profile has been deleted.
Due to this post, my blogs keep getting shadowbanned and reported.
⚠️Update: May 26th⚠️
DEMOBATZ CONTACTED ME AND I CAN CONFIRM THIS APOLOGY TO BE REAL!
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In-depth continuation and explanation [HERE]!
⚠️I turned off Reblogs as the original post with false information is still making rounds and therefore people are missing information.⚠️
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fearlessreid · 14 days
Text
concept of the day
lowkey wanna make this a fic
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
eddie and reader were high school sweethearts, attached at the hip and grossly in love.
when they are 19, corroded coffin gets noticed and eddie leaves reader for a life of partying, drugs and girls.
to cope with the heartbreak reader starts songwriting and becomes like a taylor swift level famous singer (readers songs will most likely be taylor songs)
so we have reader who’s a pop princess and eddie who’s essentially a tommy lee. they eventually run into each other at some event and both their pr managers can sense the tension and chemistry.
their managers arrange them to pr date for their careers despite eddie being a now known playboy and reader hating eddies guts.
through the fake dating, old feelings arise and eddie may realize what he could have had.
exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, fake dating, forced proximity the whole shebang.
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spookykoolkat · 7 months
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introducing...
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🩸♰ 𝐣𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ♰🩸
hello! welcome to my very first kinktober EVER! i will be writing for various people during this season, and have a few already done! currently this list consists of writing for three people — jim hopper, joel miller, eddie munson.
♱ these shorts can run from 500 - 10K words so be aware! i will put the word count with every post :) ♱
♱ these may also be posted late, or twice in a day depending if i can't keep up with my schedule :p sorry in advance! ♱
all dates that say TBA are up for request for any person of your choosing *preferably ones i write for* ^^
send in your request with the date you want, and you can be as detailed or as vague as you want. remember!!!* all my writing is written for plus sized women! so if you're bothered by that then i am very sorry but never in my life have i seen an all plus sized kinktober! so i will be here to represent for my girls 🖤🩷 i don't use many descriptions other than describing the character as fat, so my writing is SPECIFICALLY for fat black and brown women, women of color, and fat women in general 🩷
most of these fics are centered around halloween time, or just the season of fall! very few are just regular spicy stories :p
reblogs, comments and likes are very appreciated 🖤
but without further ado, here we go!
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【 oct 1. exhibitionism 】
▹ joel miller is a stranger who fucks you on a nude beach.
【 oct 2. facefucking/choking 】
▹ eddie munson is your toxic on and off 'boyfriend'.
【 oct 3. dumbification 】
▹ joel miller is your grumpy old neighbor.
【 oct 4. taped 】
▹ eddie munson likes to record you during sex.
【 oct 5. caught 】
▹ joel miller is your dad's coworker, and tommy miller is his brother.
【 oct 6. glory hole 】
▹ eddie munson goes to a brothel for the very first time.
【 oct 7. sex work 】
▹ jim hopper gets bored and finds a cam girl site.
【 oct 8. size kink 】
▹ eddie munson is your skinny, lanky boyfriend.
【 oct 9. cockwarming 】
▹ joel miller just loves to be buried inside of you 24/7.
【 oct 10. phone sex 】
▹ eddie munson can't help himself when he gets on the phone to talk to his best friend at night.
【 oct 11. breeding 】
▹ joel miller aches to see you swollen and round with his baby.
【 oct 12. somnophilia 】
▹ eddie munson uses you while you sleep in his bed.
【 oct 13. orgy 】
▹ joel miller gets an invite to a sex party, only to find you and keep you to himself.
【 oct 14. high sex 】
▹ eddie munson gets you high for the first time.
【 oct 15. mutual masturbation 】
▹ joel miller finds a loop hole in his efforts of not ruining you.
【 oct 16. sexting 】
▹ jim hopper spends a late night at the precinct when his phone starts buzzing away.
【 oct 17. objectification 】
▹ joel miller loves to turn you into his personal sex doll.
【 oct 18. switch 】
▹ eddie munson lets you, a stranger, dom him.
【 oct 19. praise kink 】
▹ eddie munson finds that his new girlfriend loves to be good for him.
【 oct 20. edging 】
▹ joel miller loves to make you work for it.
【 oct 21. corruption 】
▹ eddie munson has always been a bad influence for you.
【 oct 22. thigh riding 】
▹ joel miller like to watch you ride his thigh.
【 oct 23. virgin 】
▹ eddie munson takes your pretty little flower.
【 oct 24. dacrysphilia 】
▹ joel miller loves to make you cry while he's inside of you.
【 oct 25. titty fucking 】
▹ jim hopper loves your double Ds a little too much.
【 oct 26. stigmatophilia 】
▹ eddie munson can't help but get hard every time he looks at your pierced body.
【 oct 27. obsession 】
▹ joel miller refuses to lose you, no matter what it takes.
【 oct 28. anal 】
▹ jim hopper has an insatiable urge to stretch out both holes.
【 oct 29. quirofilia 】
▹ eddie munson's hands never fail to get you embarrassingly wet.
【 oct 30. touch starved 】
▹ joel miller hasn't met anyone as needy as you.
【 halloween: surprise 】
▹ i shake shit up and write something i've never written b4 lol
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eddiernunson · 9 months
Text
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Really Drives Me Mad | EX-bfs dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+
Previous Part | Master List | Next Part
Word Count: 10k
Warnings; degradation/praise, deep throating, eating out, edging
Author's note: Hope you don't mind but I made the reader both a swifitie and team Edward this chapter. I do appreciate all the love I've gotten for this fic. Here's part 3!
-
The general reaction you’ve received over the last two weeks was Are you out of your mind? 
While Bethany heard you out on how it happened and why it felt like a sigh of relief being with Eddie, your mom lost her damn mind. As you spoke to her, you did your best to have a civil conversation until it just ended up being her lecturing you over the speaker while you finished up cleaning the dishes.
When she realizes you haven’t responded in a while and asks if you're still there, you pick up the phone from the window ledge and unmute yourself. “Mom, seems like you’re not interested in what I have to say about this, only about how it looks. Until you’re ready to listen, I’ll let you go.” Your finger hits the red hang up button, noting the time to the call being 45 minutes. You told her the situation about five minutes in and ever since, she had spent her time venting about Eddie and how irresponsible you were, as if she hadn't listened to anything you had to say about it. 
“Are you sure you really thought this through?” Skyler, your roommate asks you as she brings her bowl over to you. 
You huff, grabbing it from her and soaking it in the hot soapy water. “Thought what through?”
“You and him. Long term.”
You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “Who said anything about this being long term? What if it’s just for now?” 
“Is it just for now? Because you went into it with Dylan claiming all you wanted was someone to commit to you.” She pauses, and you look her in the eyes as if to say get on with it. “When you had someone fully committed, someone willing to stay in it for the long haul, you left him.” 
“I didn’t get scared of his commitment, Sky!” You exclaimed, a little thrown off by it. 
“Really? Because you were so eager to introduce him to literally anyone?” Skyler throws at you, and she had a point. Your hesitation in meeting Eddie had everything to do with the fact that Dylan was more committed to your relationship than you were.
You were literally every guy you had hooked up with before Dylan, getting angry that he would act like a boyfriend except for the life long stuff. 
Fuck. What a hypocrite you were. 
“Fine, his commitment scared me a bit.” You admit, washing one last dish before draining the sink. “But it’s not why I left him.”
“For his dad.”
You sigh, eyebrows raised at her tone. “Yes, for his dad.” 
“Have you considered that when you’re his age, he’ll be in his 60s?”
“So?” You ask her, moving to the couch in the living room. 
“That’s not a relationship built to last.”
“Why can’t that be up to us to decide?” You ask her, wrapping the throw blanket around you and tucking yourself into the couch. “Look, I get your concern. I truly do. From the outside, me and Dylan were doing everything right. Having adventures, going Instagram official. Then we were meeting the families, getting comfortable.” You pause, rubbing your hair out of your face. “If I was 19/20, I would completely understand. I mean, I wouldn’t, but if that were the scenario, your concern would make sense. But I’m not. I’m 25. My frontal lobe is fully developed. I know that if I get together with Eddie then he’ll always be 20 years older than me. He’ll always have a different perspective on life than I do.” 
“You’ll always be tied to Dylan.” She points out. 
“We dated for six weeks.” You counter, a pinch appearing between your brows. “While we haven’t discussed our long term goals, I don’t see this being casual. It’s different with him. Nothing feels off about being with him. I’ve never felt safer.”
She pauses, assessing your face and the way you relax as you start talking about Eddie. “Fuck. You’ve never seemed this relaxed when talking about Dylan. Not once.”
“I wasn’t.” 
-
The comfort of Eddie’s chest breathing in and out underneath you as you lie right on top of him on the living room couch was soothing as you watched Twilight together. It took some convincing, but he let you press play on it and smirked over your shoulder at the blue filter.
No one had ever told him that the soundtrack was so good, though. 
It was maybe a half hour into the movie, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why every guy in her school just had to have her. The smile on your face as you settled into a comfort movie was worth the watch, though. 
You had texted him a few days prior, Eddie having given you his number before dropping you off at your apartment to face the real world. He was due back at his shop, having to settle management bullshit and deal with an unhappy customer or two to settle their complaints over the new apprentice. Ownership was nice, when they knew how to do their job. 
When can I see you next? 
When the six words lit up his screen, Eddie wanted to tell you to drive on over to his shop. He wanted to get in his truck and drive over to wherever the hell you are so he could text back Right Now. He knew your words were calculated, something not to seem too desperate to see him next, but truth be told, even if you were desperate it wouldn’t have made any difference; he was already hooked on you. He texted back to tell you the following Saturday, a day he knew he had no plans for the following day, so you could spend the night. 
He felt fucking crazy for thinking it, but now that he'd had you in his bed, it felt too big without you. 
Now here you lay with him, he sat in the corner of his couch while you snuggle up to him, and he could stay like this for hours, the sweet shampoo in his nose and the sound of your breaths comforting. He feels you slowly relax into him, all your body losing its tension. Occasionally, your arm would tighten around his torso or you would dig into him deeper. He appreciates the feeling, rubbing his fingers delicately along your skin.
The front door opens, and he feels you tense up as Dylan makes his way in. “Oh, great.” He mutters, and turns around to head straight up the stairs. 
Your body jerks to watch him, and your eyes catch Eddie’s for a moment. “I’ll be right back.” 
Eddie nods, seeing the fixed line your mouth made. He leans in to kiss you, an act of care more than anything else. You lean into it, your eyes closing automatically, breath hitching. “I’ll be here.”
-
The length up the stairs seemed to grow as you reached the top, this act something you have been dreading for days. Having told Bethany and Skyler about Eddie, they both felt bad for Dylan. In fact, your shitty attempt at an apology was met with a smack on the head with a nearby scrap paper by Sky. You knew Dylan deserved better. Fuck, did you know that. 
Here you stand in front of his door, sounds of a tv show on in the background while he presumably plays on his computer. Dylan was more the type to create joy out of finding a new favourite hiking trail or to take an archery class, but Eddie has said he’s been cooped up in his room. He goes to work, comes home and says barely two words before retreating upstairs. 
Not like you blamed him for it. 
Before you could hesitate any longer, you finally knock on his door. The sounds of his keys stop, and you barely hear the footsteps towards the door over your own heartbeat. The door opens to Dylan, and the disappointment when he sees you is evident, his face hardening. “What?”
“Can I come in?”
He seems to think on this, and you hope the outfit you have chosen, jeans with an oversized sweatshirt and your hair in a messy bun helps with the psychology of it, but when it came down to it, it was his decision. “…Sure.” You light up in surprise, having expected to do the apologizing in his door frame. You follow him in, and it’s an awkward moment of silence before he goes to sit in his desk chair. “Have a seat, I guess.” 
Your butt hits the edge of the bed, barely scraping the box spring. “Would it be cheesy if I recommended you listened to Speak Now, track 3?”
His eyebrows furrow, and it’s so like you to recommend a fucking Taylor song for the scenario. He has to laugh. “Taylor’s Version?”
“Of course.”
“Which is…?”
“Back To December.”
He tilts his head, this situation incredibly peculiar. “Remind me how that goes?”
A smile reaches your face, and you look at your lap sheepishly. 
“She apologizes…and clearly admits she was in the wrong after a person treats her very well and didn’t deserve it.” You pause, looking up at him.
“A little bit.” He admits, but the first wall is down. The look in his eye when he sees you doesn’t scream rage. 
“I can’t express how sorry I am for hurting you the way I did.” You start, watching for his reaction. “First, for stringing you along… But, you were the best looking guy at that mixer, and at that moment in time I truly did want to know you. None of that was fake.” He nods, considering this. “Then it started to feel, I don’t know, comfortable. I had people telling me how lucky I was to have you, daily, and with the men out there, god they were so right.” You gulp, and he can’t seem to look you in the eye. “I felt like there must’ve been something wrong with me not to be head over heels for you, cause there wasn’t anything wrong with you.”
“When did you know you wanted to break up with me?” 
“I can’t say for sure.” You tell him, and it was probably about two weeks ago, but that felt cruel. “But the moment we got back into your car I should’ve ended things.”
“You knew about him that fast, huh?” He asks you, his eyes appearing glossy. “You know, if you would’ve been honest I would have been absolutely choked, confused even, but I would have given you his number.”
You nod, because of fucking course Dylan would’ve been nice enough. “See, you’re so kind because that never occurred to me. I thought you would’ve dropped me off at home.”
“Probably.” Dylan admits, thinking about the possibilities if you’d broken up with him earlier. “Maybe not.”
“I’m so sorry for cheating on you, though. Of course, knowing your mom’s history shouldn’t have made a difference but—”
“Yeah. Kind of fucked me up.” Dylan leans back in his chair, and a smile reaches his face as he looks back to you. 
“I know that if me and Eddie keep dating that I could never, ever even remotely be a parental figure, and frankly I’m not looking to be your mom, but I hope one day you can trust me again.”
“See, how do I know you won’t do the same thing to him?”
It hurt, but it was fair. “You made me feel safe. But your dad—” he cringes, “Eddie, he makes me feel free.” 
Dylan turns around in his chair, considering this. “I believe that.”
“Wait, you do?”
“Yeah. When I walked in today sure, I was annoyed. Seeing my ex girlfriend in a new happy relationship with the person she cheated on me with is kind of annoying. But you were never that comfortable with me. That look of…contentment. I’ve never seen it before.” He sighs, doing another turn in his chair. 
“Have you and your dad spoken about it?”
“No. I’m pretty fucking mad at him. I’ll forgive him, one day. If you’re sticking around, I'll have to, because I’m not staying with my mom and her new perfect family. But we dated for six weeks. I was only starting to think I was falling in love with you. Thank god I never got there. Even then.”
“Don’t put all the blame on him.” You jump to his defense, and wow, did this sound bad. “I made the first move.”
“Good to know.” He pauses. “That’s all I want to know, for the record. No more details… I've heard enough.”
“I am sorry, though Dylan. In another universe, we date and I let you down properly and you meet your dad’s girlfriend a few weeks later who turns out to be your ex.” You laugh, just picturing it. 
“Sounds like a rom com.” 
“Honestly it’s an intriguing concept.” You get up from his bed, the conversation having met its end. 
“I can’t forgive you, yet. But that was the fucking apology I deserved the first time.”
You cringe at it, this memory is something you can already see haunting you at 3am.
“Can we pretend like that one never happened?”
“No. It’s great material to have in a back pocket. Who apologizes to their ex with brand new hickeys on their neck?"
“Okay, point taken!” You yell at him as you walk out the door. 
“Bye.” He calls out, and the door shuts behind you. 
-
You meet Eddie back at the couch, the movie paused while he scrolls through his phone. “What are you scrolling on?” You tease him, sitting easily back where you were before.
“Oh the uh, Facebook videos.” He says off-handedly, and you roll your eyes. “What?”
“Who uses Facebook nowadays?” You joke, knowing full you still updated yours occasionally.
He chuckles, nipping at your shoulder. You grab the remote by his leg, pressing play. “How did it go?”
“Better.” You sigh, watching Bella awkwardly ask him to hang out at the beach. “Much, much better. Doesn’t scream pure hatred in his face every time he looks at me anymore.”
“Makes one of us.” Eddie jokes, and you grab his hand to place a kiss, comforting him. 
The movie continues, and Eddie has never fully paid attention to the movie before, having come out in his late 20s. It was ridiculous, to say the least. The plot thickens as Bella discovers his true nature and Eddie can't help but notice a particular smile creep on your face as Edward mutters something about a lion falling in love with a lamb. Creepy. 
“Do-do you have a crush on Edward?” He asks, his voice particularly bewildered. 
Your eyes bug out, and you bite back the smile breaking out on your face with much failure.
“What? No.”
“Oh, you totally do.” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. 
“Shut up.”
Another five minutes pass and your stomach rumbles, prompting Eddie to get up and walk to the kitchen to make you something. “Want something with chicken, rice, spice, what do you want, baby?” He calls out, and you now stare openly at the tv as the baseball scene is showing, and you’ve always considered Edward just to be a bit extra hot in this scene. 
His question takes a moment to register. “Butter chicken?” You ask him. 
He peeks his head out to the music on the screen, and immediately sees the look on your face. A big smile is plastered on your face, chin resting on your fingertips as you sit cross legged. Fucking. Teenage Vampires. He rolls his eyes, rejecting the jealousy. He isn't going to be jealous over this. Nope.
He finishes the food, putting a bowl out for you, Dylan, and himself out. “Dylan! Food if you want it!” He calls out, and he brings two of the bowls for you and him, the smell of his cooking more than welcome. “Here baby.” He kisses your forehead, sitting next to you as you take a big inhale. 
“Holy shit, thank you, Ed.” You tell him, and Eddie is perplexed at your ability to forget to eat a single thing until the hunger pains kick in. He supposes his food habits at 25 weren’t the greatest, either. Now that he thinks about it, he pretty much lived off energy drinks, coffee, and the occasional hot food Wayne would force down his throat.
You inhale the food, the empty bowl on the coffee table within minutes. “Want more?” You’re hypnotized by the screen, having barely heard him. Why did he want to fight a seventeen-year-old vampire? “Baby?”
“Hmm?”
“Want more?”
“Oh sure! Thank you.” The shine in your eyes brightens up as you look up at him, and it settles his jealousy. For the most part. 
Eddie scoops himself and you another bowl, seeing Dylan hasn’t grabbed his yet. “Dylan! Food’s getting cold! Come eat!” 
Dylan comes out, actually looking like he was in a better mood than he was before.
“Oh, shit, Twilight?” He comments, shaking his head. “She’s a hard Team Edward girl. Hard.” 
“I’ve noticed. Here.” Eddie would’ve usually taken the win from his son joking with him but the jealousy that sat eating his gut was so fucking annoying. Why the fuck was he so annoyed at this stupid vampire?
“Oh it's not so fun now, is it?” Dylan calls out, running back up the stairs. 
This makes Eddie smile, like things might go back to normal. The screaming match with him after you had left made him believe he truly severed his relationship with him, but this gave him an inch of hope. 
Eddie gives you the second serving and you tear through it again, leaving the bowl in front of you empty. As Eddie finishes his own, he starts to lean into you, placing delicate kisses on the little exposed skin you provided for him today. He moves you so you’re lying on top of him.
The movie is about to end, Bella waking up in a hospital with frankly, an off-putting delivery of the lines she was given. His hands make their way up past the hem of your sweater, reaching to touch some skin as he continues. A pinch makes its way in between your eyebrows down at him. “What’s this about?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to touch you.” You don't believe him, but you also don't mind the touches, as they were certainly doing their job as far as foreplay goes, so you lean back into him. Just when Eddie thought the end was near there’s a whole-ass prom scene and he nearly groans in frustration. Your legs intertwine with his, and he gets a sneaky idea, peering over your shoulder to move his leg over the teensiest bit. 
He moves his leg as if he was lifting one leg to rest on its foot. He moves it a bit faster than necessary, aiming for where your ass sat lower than normal on his body. 
As his knee jerks into your cunt, you gasp, a heat having already gathered from the movie alone, his teasing doing nothing to help. 
“Shit, sorry baby. Was just trying to move my leg.” One look at his face tells you it was a bold-faced lie and you give him an exasperated look. “What?” A series of shots that didn’t make the movie at the end show and Eddie rolls his eyes. “Prick.” He mutters under his breath to an image of Edward on the screen. 
“What was that?” You ask him, unsure you even heard him right. “Eddie, were you jealous?” You ask incredulously, the very idea of it is just bizarre. 
“What? No!” Eddie dismisses it far too quickly, but the satisfaction as he turns the tv off is too much to deny. 
“Eddie! He’s a fictional character. You do realize you share the same name, right?” Eddie rolls his eyes, slightly ticked off he let himself get caught being jealous. You crawl up to his face, the knee against your cunt having left a throb of more want. “Besides, there’s nothing to be jealous of.” You lean in to kiss him, still lying on top of him. As you tilt your head to deepen it, Eddie feels weak as your tongue meets his own and the way you’re gasping into his open mouth is filthy. “Nothing.” You emphasize, biting on his bottom lip. 
Eddie bites back a moan, his eyes rolling back as your teeth linger. You frame his face, kissing along the path of his stubble, his gorgeous jaw line, his freckled neck, the dip of his collarbone. 
You pause, taking a quick pause to suck on the collarbone lightly, biting into it to make one little claim of your own. You sit back on it, admiring the way it's already started to bruise. You continue, your hand absentmindedly moving his shirt up his torso so you could kiss your way down. You lick across a nipple, and his chest stunts in response. Down his torso you go until you meet the treasure of all treasure trails. You pause, inhaling at the scent, and the musk intoxicates you so much that you can’t help yourself, licking at it. Fuck. 
Finally, you get to his jean waistband, and you tug twice, making sure it's okay. Eddie moves to unbutton it for you, and you swat him away. “I wanna do it.” You tell him, picking up where he left off. You tug the jeans off, your fingers hooked meticulously so his boxers come off with them. 
His cock springs free and you look up to his face. By now Eddie has lost all clear thought, and he’s sure it started the moment you started working on his collarbone. Somehow it just got better and better as you went further down, every touch of your tongue against his skin sending fucking waves through him. But the look of…elation that you give him as you free his cock, like you couldn’t believe you get to be so lucky to suck on it, had him in pure ecstasy. 
You leaned in to take a long swipe on it, a slow lick from the base to the tip, and his cock is nearly down your throat before he could even register it. Relentlessly, you bob your head, fist gripping what you can't fit. You hear him swear loudly, and you let go with a popping sound. His hand finds its way to your face, framing it. You peer up at him, and his half opened eyes and a disbelieving smile gives you an unmatched sense of pride. 
“Holy shit.” He mutters, his thumb crossing your bottom lip slowly. 
You smile, lifting his hand from your face and into your hair, curling your fist over his so he would grip it tightly. You go back to work, mouth watering as you continue to bob up and down. Eddie slowly starts pushing on your head, forcing you to take a little bit more of him at a time. Your gag reflex fights it, and he can feel it. 
“Relax your throat baby.” He whispers. “Just relax it.” You think about it, letting the tense muscles of your jaw and attempting to swallow the spit to soften. He can feel a shift, his cock still in the heat of your mouth. “Oh, good girl.” 
He thrusts his hips up, and his cock finds itself down your throat, a feat you’ve never been able to accomplish before. The base of his cock meets your nose, and he stops, watching you adjust as tears come to your eyes from the stinging. “Holy shit, good fucking girl.” He mumbles, sweeping his hand through your hair. “So good.”
He pulls on your scalp so you move up and back down a few times, and you find it impossibly easy to submit yourself to him, allowing him to fuck your throat.
Eddie guides you off his cock, you look up at him for his appraisal and he frames your face to wonder how he was so lucky as he looks at your cocked-out eyes. “Oh, what a good little slut.” He mutters, pulling you up to his face. 
You crawl up eagerly, and he kisses you gently, not chaste, but not quite as dirty as before. He breaks away, still connecting your foreheads. “Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”
You nod readily; lust filled eyes staring back into his. You wait patiently for him to put his jeans back over on his cock and make your way back up the stairs to his room. 
As soon as his door is shut Eddie rids himself of his clothes, and you end up watching from his bed eagerly, enjoying the show. He dives onto the bed, and a squeal of giggles involuntarily leaves your throat at the wild eyes captivating his face. He dives down to kiss you, his tongue delicious against your own and he sucks on it, luring a whimper right out of you. One of his hands rubs against your thigh, and this pair of pants wasn’t something he could feel you up through. Eddie’s thumb messaged extra rough, and the touch alone manages more whimpers. 
“Touch me.” You choke out, breathing heavily, breathing him. “Please.”
Eddie grins, both his hands working down to unbutton the tight jeans you wore. A hand slips in and starts to tease along the slick of your folds and your breath hitches as Eddie focuses on making you feel good. He rubs them in small circles, the touch light but enough to give you release. You can tell he isn't necessarily driving you towards an orgasm and it drives a laugh of impatience out of you against his lips. 
“Baby” You whine, “Fuck.” You couldn’t even put words to it, because somehow you knew he’d find a way to twist it. 
Eddie leans into your neck, the heat of his cruel laughter closing your eyes. “Oh, you wanted me to touch you and get off? Well why didn’t you say so?” 
The pressure increases, a defined difference in his touch as he rubs against your clit, and the sounds he draws from you was worth the tease. He hikes your oversized sweater up, revealing skin and your bra, and as his fingers move absentmindedly he kisses your stomach with light tongue, the wet warmth sending shivers up your body as the feeling in your tummy starts to pool. 
He sits up suddenly, and you whimper from the loss. He chuckles at this, pride in how pathetic he can make you feel. “Aww, poor baby.” He mocks you, and your eyebrows furrow in slight embarrassment. “It’s okay, I know you just wanna cum…gonna get you to cum all over my face.” His hands tug on your jeans, and he barely needs any help from you to yank them off, unceremoniously throwing them onto the floor. “Oh, fuck, finally.” He mutters as he sees your pussy, prettier than he remembered when he jacked himself off in the shower this morning. 
He leans in, sucking on your clit and the heat expands from it into your legs and the feeling in your stomach doubles. From no release to every bit, you could already feel the knot threatening to snap. “Holy shit, fuck.” You mutter, your thighs clamping against him. 
He feels the intensity in your body shift, continuing to suck on your clit rhythmically. Your breathing increases, and Eddie slowly sucks harder, and harder, and as your heels dig in his upper back, he stops. 
An audible whine leaves you, the edge just right there. “Fuck, Ed.” You whimper, somehow knowing it was on purpose. 
He chuckles, watching your beautiful cunt react as well. “I know, baby, I know.” 
“I was so close.” 
“Imagine how good it’ll feel when you do cum, yeah?” He teases, still watching your face. Your leg muscles spasm and the kisses he trails down your thigh are no help. 
You whine again, toes curling and the extra fabric of your sweater self consciously curls up around your fists. “Ed.”
“I know.” He says one last time, and goes in for the kill. 
There was really no delay this time, the edge was only a step away and he pushed you over, his fingers fucking into you and tongue working over time on your clit, a heat into an explosion as your legs shake and pussy spasms. Eddie pays close attention to it, admiring the glisten of your slick coating you, dripping to your ass and on his sheets and it's a piece of art. 
Eddie kisses one last time against your clit, crawling back up to you to assess. “Sweetheart?”
You smile lazily at him, the orgasm having left a smile on your face and a glow amongst your features. “Hmm?”
“Wanna fuck still?” He asks, his hand petting your face softly. 
Your eyes fucking light up, nodding enthusiastically. He chuckles, moving the sweater slowly up and over your head. He moves around your torso, single handedly unhooking your bra, revealing those gorgeous tits. 
He looks like heaven above you, a shadow of stubble, brown eyes darkened as he takes you in, and the lust in his eyes sends a pool of wetness between your legs. Your legs open, and he sits himself between them, kissing the nearest skin he can as he puts his cock into you. 
Your legs close on the feeling, mouth falling open in a silent moan. God, what a sight. 
You sleepily look up at him as he puts his chest on yours, just drinking in the moment of him in you. He does the same, your hands framing his face.
He kisses you, slow and sweet. “So, so, good, Ed.” You manage out between them, sighing up at him. 
He moves back a bit, thrusting into you lightly and you whimper into his mouth. He separates himself to get a good look as he continually fucks into you, and your mouth is open in unspoken words. Too fucking good. 
“I know baby, I know.” He tells you. He kisses your neck, down your throat and down to a tit bouncing lightly from the impact of his cock fucking into you. He latches his tongue onto the nipple, your pussy tightening around him in response. He grazes his teeth lightly, mewls leaving your throat at the sheer pleasure mixed with pain and he lets go. 
He leans up from you, taking one of your legs and placing it against his shoulder up towards the ceiling and you can feel him deeper, his thrusts starting to hit harder. Your moans are interrupted by each thrust. “Ed. So. Good. Fuck.”
His hand gently caresses your leg on his shoulder, focusing on the warmth of your pussy engulfing him. “Oh, tight pussy. So fuckable.” 
“Yours.” You whine out. 
“Oh, that’s right. My pussy.”
“All yours.” You choke out. 
“Oh that’s fuckin right. You’re mine. All mine. My good fuckable slut.”
The words hit the right spot, making your eyes roll back. “Fuck, Ed. Cum in me.”
“Yeah, wanna be filled with me?"
“Mmhmm…” 
“Oh fuck.” Eddie reaches his high faster than he was expecting, his hips jerking into you and the feeling of his cock pulsating while it spurts inside you is everything. 
Eddie pants, lightly pushing your leg off his chest. He leans forward to give you a kiss, his body covered in sweat, the slick smell being something you need to memorize. “Holy shit, sweetheart."
You giggle, your legs holding him there. “Stay a while?”
“Love to cockwarm, huh, baby?” 
“Only with you,” You mutter, a yawn leaving you. And if it was anything like the first time, you’ll be asleep within minutes. “So full.” 
He chuckles, turning on the tv next to his bed. He tugs the blanket out from under you and pulls it over the two of you. You snuggle into his arms as he wraps them around you. “You know, we can cuddle without—” Eddie starts.
“No, no. That’s crazy talk.” You interrupt him, and he feels a smile up against his chest.
As you fall asleep, you hear one last thing from him, something you don’t think you were supposed to hear. “Beat that, you sparkly fucker.”
Somehow, the power of making Eddie jealous over a fictional vampire didn’t go straight to your head, but goddamn it felt good to be this wanted. 
-
The tickle of the sheet against your abdomen comes to mind as you wake up on your side, calf in between Eddie’s legs and your face buried in his chest. His snoring is gentle but deep, his arm lazily wrapped around you. You figure he eventually got himself out of you, the subtle loss something you probably whined at. 
You feel a smile creep its way onto your face, the satisfaction of waking up how you did fills your lungs with air. You peer your head back to get a look at his face, relaxed and unguarded, even from sex. Your eyes take in every detail of his handsome face, the slight hook of his nose, the stray hairs by his left eyebrow, the freckles scattered… God, he is beautiful. 
You lean in to kiss his jawline, nuzzling your nose into the scratch of his stubble. The arm around your torso flexes, a snore interrupted. A huff of laughter escapes you, the simplicity of it just so mesmerizing. He shifts slightly, arm tightening around you as he adjusts himself. You cuddle yourself closer into his chest, inhaling the scent that was unmistakably him. No cologne, deodorant or aftershave disguising it. The smell alone makes you shudder in happiness. 
You lay breathing him in for another thirty minutes before he finally stirs awake.
When he finally does, eyes squinting around as he blinks awake, arms flexing away as he yawns and stretches, you lay there patiently as he gets his bearings.
“Fuck.” His arms go limp, and he buries himself into your hair, breathing in the scent. “How long—” he yawns, cutting himself off. “How long have you been awake?”
Your shoulders shrug, and he huffs out a breath of laughter. He feels your stomach grumble against his. “Long enough, huh.” He kisses into your hair, giving you one last good squeeze. “Alright, let’s go get some food.”
You protest getting out of bed with him but the second growl your stomach makes, this one even more audible, has Eddie give a look to say it wasn’t debatable. Food first.
Down the stairs, you sit in a pair of shorts with the same over sized sweater at the kitchen island, chewing happily on the food Eddie prepared for you, a fucking snack tray. He put it in front of you, and you look up at him with an eyebrow raised peculiarly. “I fucking love snacks.” He says, grabbing a slice of cheese off your tray.
Dylan jogs into the kitchen, stealing a cracker off your plate as he dashes around the counter. “Going out with friends, be back later.” He looks dressed up for a bar, an outfit you knew he would wear to impress. It's a weird thought that you know him like this. 
“Don’t be stupid, don’t drink and drive.” Eddie tells him, leaning forward on the island. 
“Got it!” 
“Was that good or bad, I couldn’t tell.” You ask him when the front door closes. 
“I wouldn’t go towards either. He’s being civil for the sake of you but he’s much more pissed when you’re not here. Trust me.” Eddie answers you, eyes wide at the end of the sentence.
A pang of guilt hits you square in the chest. He sees your expression falter, giving you a soft look. “Don’t feel guilty. I deserve it. He damn well has a right to act this way when I betrayed him.”
Fuck, that was a level of emotional maturity you weren’t used to seeing in men. Threw you for a loop. 
“So, sweetheart. I got a question for you.” You perk up, leaning towards him at the opposite end of the island counter. “Will you allow me to take you out on a proper date?”
The sentence drives your heart wild, your stomach turning itself inside out. You nod your head rapidly, gulping. “When?”
“Well it’s four o’clock now…if I drive you home so you can get ready we could probably make our 7 o’clock reservation.”
-
Now you find yourself in your bathroom, your makeup scattered across the counter as you dance to an upbeat playlist, your quick glance to the clock indicating you still have an hour before he comes to pick you up at 6:45. 
You're driving yourself mad with the want to outdo yourself, you want a visual reaction from this man. He was kind enough to let you know it was more upscale, but that was all the detail he was willing to provide to you. You knew your initial reaction to wear something to rile him up wasn’t any good, and the warning he had given you had driven you to believe he knew you well enough to know you would if he hadn’t.
You hear the front door of the apartment close, Skyler getting home from day working at a cellphone carrier store. She hated the dumb customers but loved the commission she made when she sold plans. She places her things down, making her way straight to the bathroom to where the blaring music could be heard. “Going out somewhere?” She asks, slightly yelling to be heard over the music. 
You reach to the Bluetooth speaker, turning down the volume a few notches. “Hot date with Eddie!” You tell her excitedly, leaning in to finish the last of the eyeliner. 
“Oh, I didn’t know you had one planned!”
“Neither did I! He told me about the reservation just like an hour ago after he dropped me off.”
“Just like that?” She asks, leaning in. 
You pause the movement of your brush on your face, using some setting powder for a final touch. “Just like that.” 
Her eyebrows raised to her forehead quickly. “Okay, damn. That’s…that’s romantic.”
A smile lands on your face, and you close it to prevent the wider smile making its way to prevent teasing. “Mmmhmm.” 
Face setting spray finishes your face before you run to your room to do the most daunting thing about getting ready…picking out your outfit. 
It has to be something your ex hasn't taken off you either. There goes that hot blue little dress, and this green strappy number, and that really cute skirt…damn this might be harder than you thought. You used a lot of secret weapons from your arsenal with Dylan. 
“I’m out of clothes!” You yell to your roommate, frustrated out of your mind. 
“You still haven’t used that pretty dress you bought last month…the one still with a tag on it?” She calls out, referring to a dress you found that fit you perfectly but didn’t have anything to wear it for.
“That one is for special occasions!”
“Bitch, your boyfriend made spontaneous dinner date plans for your first date. It’s a special occasion, wear the damn dress!”
As it cascades down your body as you place it over your head, it couldn’t have been more perfect. 
-
Sitting in your living room while waiting to be picked up should not be this jittery, butterflies doing a little dancey-dance in your stomach as Skyler absentmindedly binge-watches Buffy. You sent Eddie your address at his request about ten minutes ago, and now it's just a waiting game. 
Three knocks at the door find you standing in a second, tripping over your own feet to get to the door. You open it to him, standing there with a single red rose. He's dressed in a gorgeous leather outdoor jacket, one only a man as fine as he is could pull off as well as he does and still make it look classy. He wears a pair of slacks with a dark red button down tucked loosely into it, the first three buttons undone. 
Something tells you he’ll be moving his sleeves up his arms later. Fuck. He has never looked hotter. 
“Hi, gorgeous. Ready?”
You nodded frantically, picking the open jacket up from the coatrack you had placed conveniently by the door. You turn back to face to your roommate to tell her not to wait up and face her, her mouth wide open. “I see it now.” She whispers, her jaw dropping again. 
Your eyebrows raise to her in response but a glare reaches as your face as you turn around, something in you stupidly angry about this. Good. Look from afar. 
-
The drive down is filled to the brim with unbridled anticipation, neither one saying much as you watch the pretty lights pass by on the way to the unspecified restaurant. 
He places his hand on your thigh, thumb caressing it gently. Your dress is just long enough for his pinky to touch your leg but the rest lay on the soft material. “You look gorgeous, by the way.” He compliments you, and you suddenly realize he’s barely watching the road. 
“Hmm.” You answer, nodding at the road. “My heart stopped when I opened the door, you are unfairly handsome.”
“Unfairly?” Eddie asks, voice incredulous at your word choice. 
“Mmhmm.” 
He chuckles, suddenly making a left turn into a group of scattered restaurants and your breath hitches, wondering, no. 
Holy fuck, it is. 
He pulls up and you’re peering up at what is known as the most expensive restaurant in town, the kind of place you only went with when your parents were celebrating an anniversary or something and were paying.
The kind of place that had good ass food, but you need to be able to pay minimum, 100 per person. The wine is automatically served, and the only music is a light piano melody. “Wanted to take you out for a treat. Somewhere I know damn well men your age can’t afford.”
That sentence alone drenches the lacy panties you wore. 
He walks to your side after getting out, opening the door for you. The act isn’t much, something a man or two has done before him, but from him, it was like a goddamn touch of Midas. 
The low light and piano music engulfs you, the conversation low as you see everyone is dressed in their best. You find yourself intimidated but Eddie walks in like he belongs. 
Cause he does. 
He asks for a reservation under his last name, and the waitress finds it right away. You can’t help but notice the way her eyes light up and damn, you usually don’t describe yourself as the jealous type but when it comes to him it's hard not to be. 
As you get to your booth, Eddie takes off his jacket, revealing his sleeves up to his elbows, and it’s literally mouth watering. He does it so swiftly, and before you can even sit, he holds his hand out for your jacket as well. You take it off to hand it over, which he hangs ever so gently over his jacket on the hook. 
Your hostess asks for drinks, Eddie asks for the drink menu and some water, you ask for water as well, hoping to find a suitable cocktail when the menu comes along. 
The low lighting is flattering on him sitting across from you, and all his attention is on you, even as his eyes roam the menu. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you finally ask Eddie for his story, something even through the lust you’ve had a desire to know. 
He describes growing up in Hawkins, Indiana, a rebel without a cause with a touch for the dramatics and running a role play DnD group. He describes his struggles as he failed grade twelve twice due to a large population chalking it up to laziness when in reality no one listened to his inability to sit down long enough to learn anything. He tells you about this group of friends he made in his final and successful attempt at grade 12, the ones that eventually kicked his ass into gear and none of them he would’ve been here without, and though they were all older like him, you hoped one day you’d be lucky enough to meet them face-to-face. 
His attempt at college, realizing it wasn’t for him and dropping out a semester in when a local mechanic he knew offered an apprenticeship spot at his garage.
2 years into it, he finds out he enjoys it and he made enough money to move out. At 22 he meets a woman who comes into his shop with a check engine light on, and that was how he met Dylan's mom. You fought so hard not to roll your eyes as he described building a life with her and finding out she was pregnant, but it was hard not to be jealous. 
Apparently she was the perfect mom from the outside, her connection to her son was unbeatable. Eddie soon found out she was having an affair with one of her co-workers, the same one she had told him time and time again that, no, of course he didn’t have a crush on her, that’s silly. 
(They were fucking the whole time.)
If anything, it was the reason he had let Dylan find out so quickly. An affair would’ve made it ten times worse. 
He finishes off, describing how difficult it was to raise him after she ran off with the co-worker, eventually finding something that worked for them. All in all, he was proud of the person he had raised Dylan to become, hopeful for their relationship. 
You hung onto every word he told you through that meal like he had hung the moon and the stars. As he finishes, wiping his hands on his napkin as he ate, your eyes fixated on his forearms flexing, he apologizes, claiming he felt bad for talking the whole time.
“Oh, I could listen to you for hours.” It falls out of your mouth before you could stop it.
“Well I’m sick of myself. Tell me about you.” He comments, so you did. 
You tell him about being raised in the small town in rural America, being a teenager in the 2010s a slight difference than in the late 90s. Your stupid first boyfriend who dumped you as soon as he slept with you, your mom who meant well but often valued the opinions of others over her daughters needs and wants, your stoner of a best friend who had an opinion that you valued most of all, and how you met your current roommate through a facebook ad but it turned out you really clicked. 
Your story had no beginning and no end, just going off your life based on what you felt like you had wanted to tell him. 
“Dylan is a good boyfriend, by the way.” Eddie laughed at the absurdity of your sentence, all plates in front of you containing any food long gone while you had your third cocktail and Eddie drank some whiskey. Were you a bit tipsy? Yes. That sentence couldn’t have left your mouth without it. “After the lack of commitment on a stupid amount of dudes, his willingness to go all in, as we said that’s what we had both wanted, was exceedingly refreshing.” You took another gulp of it, the sugary drink hitting nicely. “He was stable, kind, thoughtful, but something was missing. In him I felt safety.” You pause, looking at him. “In you, I feel freedom.” 
The conversation moved away from Dylan, thank God. As he asks for one more before the bill you can't help yourself. “Where do you see this going?” You gulp, scratching your nose, and paying close attention to your glass. “If you say anything other than long term, I might be sick.”
To Eddie, your level of honesty was refreshing. “Baby, anything but long-term has never been an option to me.”
Eddie gives his credit card to the waitress, a moon eyed girl who he had barely paid attention to. Either because he was being courteous with his attention or he just didn’t bother when you were right in front of him, it didn’t matter, but the thing itself gave you immense satisfaction. (It was the latter, for the record. Eddie had barely noticed her.)
As he helped you back into your jacket, slipping on his own, a feeling of intense satisfaction, pure bliss invaded your entire system. There was no first date that would ever be as good as this one. The set up, picking you up, the nice ass restaurant, the easy conversation, and lastly, the knowledge that when you got to his, he would be all over you, and you him. 
Nothing was ever gonna be this good. 
Good. You didn’t want anyone or anything but him. 
-
Your head found his shoulder on the way back to his place, hands intertwined on your lap on the silent ride home, soft rock playing on his radio. As his truck reaches his driveway, you notice it's empty. Eddie picked up on this as your head perks up upon the observation. 
“Asked if he could crash at a friend’s place tonight.” Eddie explains, having placed the truck in park, sitting back in his seat. “We got the place to ourselves.” 
You grinned giddily, and you weren’t sure if it was the three and a half drinks or the troublesome feeling of your lacy panties being thoroughly soaked, but you were out his truck door before he could even register it. He climbs out, quickly shuffling behind you and he makes a giggle pour out of you as he scares you as you wait patiently at the door for him to unlock it. 
He kisses your neck as he reaches in with one hand to unlock the door, and you open it and turn to him, yanking on the collar of his leather jacket. “Need you.” You mutter in between kisses, only in the entrance of the house but if you took another step without kissing him, you were gonna lose your mind. “Want. You.” 
Your need is outrageously attractive, Eddie leaning into every kiss you've given him with the same amount of fervor, his hands holding your waist and fisting at the deliciously beautiful dress you had worn. You just had this dress? Waiting around? And you hadn’t blessed anyone with the perfect sight that was you dressed in it until now? What a goddamn sin.
It’ll be a shame when it hits the floor but this dress is only second to how goddamn good you looked naked as far as Eddie's concerned. Speaking of which…
Eddie continually kisses you, pulling you in against him, your breath hitches pulling your coat off and letting it fall to the floor. He backs you up to the stairs, and your foot hits the first step up, and as you’re starting to climb backwards Eddie pushes his body on yours, forcing you to sit. He takes it a step further by leaning in to kiss your neck, and your back falls onto the steps as well, just like he was hoping. Your legs open, welcoming his hips into yours. 
Eddie only starts with soft kisses, just to smell your perfume and to feel your skin beneath his lips. “This dress, baby, this dress.” He pauses, a look of lust deep within his brown eyes. “Oh, fuck, this dress.” He couldn’t seem to tell you anything else, but you were thankful the gut feeling that told you to buy it was right. You tug on his collar, pulling it down his back to take it off.
Eddie assists you, letting the jacket fall clumsily down the three steps.
“My dress? This shirt!” You gasp, gripping onto it softly. “You look so good. The buttons undone on the top were..” You sigh as he kisses his way down to your shoulder. “…a nice touch.”
His hand pushes up your dress, hands roughly smoothing up your thigh, and one gets to the lacey panties. As his hand brushes the panties to take them off he gives you a manic smile. He takes them off, slowly, head against your shoulder as he does so. As the pair is taken off your foot, he inhales sharply at the sight of them, holding them in front of your body where he can see them. You see his hands touch where you soaked it all night, playing with the slick that has already gathered. “You’re not getting these back.”
He tosses them back playfully, going back to attack your neck. Eventually he leaves kisses all down your torso, and he kisses down your clothed thigh before making a big show of lifting the dress hem up, kissing along your thigh again. Only this time, your thigh wasn’t covered, and it was towards your now uncovered and absolutely throbbing cunt. As he moves closer, you start to whine, as with each kiss he adds more wetness, more tongue. Finally his mouth is right next to your core, and with his head in your skirt, he reaches for each leg to put them on his shoulders. 
He goes straight in, tongue attacking your clit, your still covered feet dig into his back and a choked out moan leaves your throat. Eddie’s lips leave your pussy, his shining eyes in your sight as he popped his head from underneath your dress. “Be loud, show me how much you love my tongue all over your pussy. C’mon. Wanna hear you. If I catch you holding back again you’ll be sorry.” He leans in without another thought, and his tongue takes no time to continue. 
“Oh, fuck!” You felt slightly embarrassed by it, but you were more worried about what he meant at the end there, by you’ll be sorry. If he edged you just for the hell of it, what was he gonna do as a punishment? “Your tongue, feels so fucking good, Ed.”
“Tastes—” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Tastes like heaven. Love your sweet, perfect, beautiful pussy.” The acoustics of talking through your dress didn’t make sense, but you could hear him loud and clear. “Look how wet this pussy is already for me, just dripping, oh fuck.”
“Fuck, you look, fuck, so good Ed. So fucking hot.” 
“You were wet from my appearance alone?” Eddie asks, peering up at you from behind your dress.
“Since the first time I met you.” You gasp out, leaning onto your elbows on the step but finding your head heavy on your neck to look up at him.
“Jesus christ.” You smiled down at him, hand reaching forward for him. He interlocks his with yours and keeps it there as he dives back in your dress. Something feels different…the heat concentrates on your clit as he feverishly attacks it. 
“Holy shit--!” You cry out, jerking your upper body forward. “Ed, holy fuck keep doing that.” His other hand joins him, hooking into you and immediately connecting with your g-spot. As you get closer, he can feel your hand tighten on his own as your moans lose all inhibition and you whine, all high pitched, the sound echoing beautifully in the empty house. “Ed, fuck—” Your orgasm snuck up on you, the heat expanding through your thighs and legs until the edge hits you in a silent scream, and you gush all over his face and your dress and the stairs. 
Thank god Eddie had hardwood. 
He comes out from your dress, and you look at him in disbelief. “What—” you start, still unraveling. “I don’t even—” 
“C’mon.” He mutters, kissing your forehead. You follow him up to his room, knees already weak but moving anyway. 
Your bodies collide with one another, lips mashing in hot, dirty kisses. “Need to fuck you now.” Eddie breathes, his hands working at the zipper on your back. The dress drops to reveal what he already knew, and that it was you weren't wearing a bra. “Perfect fucking tits, fuck.”
He tugs at his belt and untucks his pants, making him look like a horny teenager. Maybe not horny, just a few drinks in. But when he had what he called the hottest girlfriend, he felt like anyone could hardly blame him. His pants fly off and he undoes the last few buttons on his shirt before he yanks it off by the back. 
When he’s finally undressed, he pauses as he gets a good look at you, the both of you ridiculously exposed. “Fuck. Am I so goddamn lucky I get to spend my night with you?”
“Just kiss me.” You tell him, reaching out for him and he lurches forward, wrapping his hands in your hair and taking your lips in a wet kiss. He leads you to his bed, taking step by step as you fall backwards onto it, and none of it is awkward, just perfect. He crawls on top as your leg makes its way around his hips, and he can’t even bother to tease you because if he doesn’t get his cock inside you he is gonna lose it. 
You didn’t expect it so soon, usually getting a tease but the shock pulls out a loud moan from you, Eddie moaning at the same time as he pushes himself into you. He puts his forehead against yours, eyes closed. Yours are too, taking in the feeling of his cock inside you. No matter how many times, it's like you forgot how fucking good it felt, every time. 
“God. I didn’t know a pussy could feel this…fuck.” He mutters as his words make you tighten around him. “Fucking intoxicating.” He leans in to nip lightly against your neck, whispering into your skin. “Can’t fucking get enough of it. And when I—” he lips his hips out of yours, fucking into you slowly, “—fuck you, there’s nothing fucking better.” 
His hips continue, his head remaining in your neck, his body against yours as he just feels you against him. Your hands roam the muscles of his back, nails digging in as his hips gradually fuck you harder. “You always take my cock so goddamn well, baby. Such a good whore for me.” 
You whimper; all coherent thought gone as the feeling of him is pure perfection. 
“Fucking love your cock in me Ed! Fuck, just like- just like that.” 
“Oh, I know you love my cock. You moan like a whore for it. Let me hear you baby.” 
The whines you didn’t realize you were holding back came out of your mouth and he grabbed your hair harshly, and you let out a higher one. “Don’t hold back, remember?”
You nod your head, a restricted move because of his hold on you. Eddie lets go, his hand framing your face delicately. He leans in to kiss you, fierce and protective. “God, you’re so much more…more than I had ever wanted…ever hoped for…” his voice is softer now, whispering into your neck. 
“Ed. You’re so good…to me. So lucky.” 
He places a hand on your clit, rubbing gently at it. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna cum. Cum with me?”
“What am I gonna say, no? To that?” you gasp out. He chuckles softly, the laughter hot against your neck. 
“Close.” You tell him and he picks up the pace, holding back a bit for you. “Eddie I—” and a full moan leaves your lips and as you tighten around him, his hips rutting into you. 
Eddie moans loudly as he cums, a sound you wouldn’t blame angels for if they had used at the gates of heaven. 
His weight is heavy on you, having collapsed. He kisses whatever skin he can reach, your shoulder, collarbone, jawline, corner of your mouth before wrapping your lips in a kiss you can only describe as breathtakingly romantic. 
Fuck were you falling, falling hard. And as Eddie lay on top of you for a solid ten minutes, caressing your skin and kissing you softly, still inside you while basking in the afterglow, he is thinking the exact same thing.
Also that he needs to clean the stairs before Dylan gets home. 
-
Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr
Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you
Those who requested for this fic: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy @daniellabrandt @lail1010 @alicentswife @names-were-taken
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cranberrymoons · 4 months
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sugar cookie daydream
prompt: enemies to lovers (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 997 rated: t tags: baker steve, shop owner eddie, rivalry, flirting
welcome to Day 19 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!
Okay, so Steve doesn’t like to say that he hates anyone. 
And he doesn’t! Hate anyone. Just–
The guy who owns the shop across the street. Steve doesn’t hate him, because he doesn’t hate people as a general rule, but he maybe sort of… strongly dislikes him.
It’s just the fact that he’s been trying to move in on Steve’s territory by offering free Christmas cookies with any purchase when Steve literally runs the bakery right across the street, and that feels like it’s maybe a personal attack, or– okay, Dustin thinks he’s reading way too much into it or overreacting or something, but honestly? Steve thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to hate the guy who–
Not hate. He doesn’t hate him. He just– resents him. That’s a better word for it.
He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he arranges a fresh round of pastries in their glass case, smiling at the woman who’s eyeing the cream puffs at the other end of the counter. It’s not like he’s exactly hurting for customers, it’s just… the big Free Cookies! sign directly across the street feels a little pointed.
“What can I get you?” he asks the woman, who’s now moved on to examine a rainbow array of macarons. “Those also make great holiday gifts.”
The woman glances up and gives him a big smile, toothy and sweet. She’s pretty in a disarming sort of way, big eyes and long blonde hair pulled back from her face. She’s carrying a heavy-looking bag over her shoulder, loaded down with books that peek out the top. 
“Just picking up a few things to take across the street,” she says, heaving the bag higher on her shoulder. “Game night.”
She motions with her head in the direction of The Shop, and Steve resists the urge to make a face. Well, at least he’s getting one paying customer out of the place. Two, if you count Dustin, but he doesn’t ever actually pay.
After a few minutes of selection, he sends her on her way with a little box of macarons, plus a few other things, including an assortment of cookies to show off to his mortal enemy the guy across the street who’s innocently drumming up business for himself by undercutting Steve’s sales.
It doesn’t even matter. 
Whatever.
---
And then the shop bell chimes next morning, and he looks up from piping cupcakes to find the man himself standing there in front of the counter, as if he’s allowed to. As if he was invited in. As if Steve isn’t going to give him a piece of his mind and tell him what he really thinks of– 
Fuck. 
Of course he had to be hot up close.
“Hi,” Evil Shop Owner Guy says, giving him an awkward little wave and a smile. After a beat, his hand moves to rub over the back of his neck. “Thought I’d come say hi.”
Steve blinks. “Well,” he says. “You said it. Hi.”
The guy laughs, and he takes a step closer, which is decidedly not what Steve was going for. He sets down his pastry bag. 
“I meant– hi, like–” He lets out a breath. “I’m Eddie. I own the game store that just opened across the street?”
Steve gives him a tight smile. “Yeah, my cashier goes to your games on Thursdays,” he says. “Dustin? Curly-headed kid?”
“Oh yeah, he’s–” Eddie lets out a laugh that makes Steve soften slightly against his will. “He’s a good kid.” He squints. “Kind of an oddball, though.”
Steve laughs too, and his smile loosens. “Yeah, he is,” he says. “Kind of thought all you were until I met the rest of his friends, and– nope, mostly just him.”
Eddie’s shoulders have come down from his ears a little, and he rocks up on his toes as he laughs. 
“Listen, um.” He clears his throat. “I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot?”
Steve raises his eyebrows. “We did?”
“The cookie thing,” he says. “Dustin said you’re not exactly a fan.”
And that’s… not untrue, but still. Steve feels his face heat. 
“He shouldn’t have said anything,” he says. “I’m– sorry, it’s not like I’ve been– whatever. It just felt a little–”
“No, no, I totally get it,” Eddie says. “I guess I didn’t really think. And then my friend Chrissy brought over some of your stuff last night, and it was way better than the shit we’ve been giving out, and –” He takes a breath. “Anyway. I just wanted to say sorry, and – if you want, I mean – I kind of have an idea of how to make it better?”
---
Steve is a little unsure at first, but after a few days of Eddie’s plan to give half off dice to anyone who comes in with a receipt from the bakery, his sales have definitely started to inch back up toward where they were before someone started undercutting him. Steve even begrudgingly admits the dice are cool when Dustin shows off his new set after paying for his breakfast for the first time ever.
“I don’t really get what they do, though,” Steve says, turning them over in his hand to watch the way the light catches on the glitter trapped inside. 
“They don’t do anything,” Dustin says. “They’re dice. You use them to play.”
Steve makes a face. “Okay, I’m not that stupid, thanks.” He drops them back into Dustin’s waiting hand. “I just meant like – the game doesn’t make sense to me. But I’m glad you like them.”
“You could come over net Thursday,” Dustin says, raising his eyebrows. “I bet Eddie wouldn’t mind teaching you.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Steve says. “No nerd games for me. I’ll stick with my cookies.”
---
But that doesn’t stop him from asking Eddie out for a celebratory drink the next day, and if one thing leads to another, well – he never said he hated him.
[also on ao3]
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shares-a-vest · 4 months
Text
@steddiemas Day 19: Steddie as Dads (Trope Tuesday)
wc: 1.4k | Rated: T for suggestive language and flirtatious banter | cw: Eddie is trans in my Joanie Munson AU and gave birth to Joanie. This fic contains one mention of pregnancy and the possibility of having a baby.
Tags: Steddie Dads, Trans Eddie Munson, Growing Family, Getting Interrupted, Christmas Night, Christmas Presents, Kid Fic
Note: I knew Joanie's Furby would have to make a reappearance after I wrote THIS drabble for Black Friday. Also, I started drafting this fic for Day 3 (Needing to be Quiet) but it ran away from me so it has aspects of that prompt too.
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Christmas Night, 1998
“Okay…” Eddie sing-songs, stirring Steve from his very sleepy post-Christmas state on the couch, “Our precious bean is asleep… The old man is in a food-induced coma…”
He skips to the couch and flops down, mussing their makeshift bedding.
“Huh?” Steve mumbles, looking up to find a mischievous grin painted across his partner’s face.
He should have known Eddie was up to something with their sleeping arrangements. He had insisted they spend Christmas Night on Wayne’s couch, giving up the bed in Eddie’s old room to Joanie for the evening.
As Eddie continues grinning like an idiot – and adds a wiggling, suggestive brow for good measure – Steve attempts to smooth out their blankets. He shimmies upright, yawning as he yanks at the corner of the blanket trapped beneath Eddie’s ass.
“Nope!” Eddie says, chopping his hand through the air, “No yawning, sugarplum.”
He dives for the remote teetering on the edge of the coffee table and points it at the television, reducing It’s a Wonderful Life to a quickly fading speck in the middle of the screen.
“Jimmy Stewart, off!” he declares, voice high and nasally in mock impersonation as he tosses the remote to the side.
With the living room lit only by the lights of Wayne’s Christmas tree (decorated the moment they arrived with Joanie), Steve feels his eyes droop.
He scrubs a hand down his tired face, his unstyled hair flopping forward as he does so. Eddie is soon on him, combing it back before picking at individual strands like a monkey looking for fleas.
“How are you not tired?” Steve whines, dipping his head to avoid more prodding.
But Eddie then reaches to remove his glasses.
“Christmas adrenaline, sweetheart,” he explains, carefully folding the glasses and setting them on the coffee table within reach.
Eddie leans back again, elbow propped on the couch, his chin resting against his hand enough that it squishes up his cheek.
“The Furby was a hit,” he continues, his teasing dimples out on full display now.
“Please don’t talk about it,” Steve grumbles, sinking into the couch at the thought of Joanie’s newest toy, now out of the box and operational, ready to wreak havoc.
He can only imagine the reaction the cats will have to those soulless eyes when they get the retched thing back home…
“It’s cute,” Eddie shrugs, not at all innocently picking at the bottom hem of Steve’s flannel button-up, a Munson family relic turned pyjama top.
“It looks like a Gremlin,” he deadpans, “Ready to chew our faces off with that weird robot beak.”
He hopes his frown will also remind Eddie that if said demon-spawn does rise up against them, he can be the one fully responsible for dealing with it. And, now that he thinks about it, Steve is sure Eddie allowing their daughter to watch Gremlins at Halloween surely contributed to her desire to obtain this year’s latest kids' craze.
As they glare at each other, Steve holds onto some hope that Eddie (might) think back to that sleepless Halloween night when Joanie woke up at 2 am in tears and thought Ozzy’s prowling in the shadows was an evil after-midnight Mowgai.
“And where is it now?” Steve asks, breaking their seated stand-off.
“Tucked under the covers with our precious Joanie-Bear,” Eddie says, dramatically closing his eyes with a chirpy hum.
Again – Gremlin!
Steve bites his tongue as Eddie opens his eyes again, those big brown orbs now glowing with mirth like a warmer, more cherubic (but equally devilish) version of their five-year-old’s prized Christmas present.
Eddie clicks his tongue, looking everywhere but directly at Steve as he fidgets with a handful of blankets, entirely conspicuous as he buzzes with clear anticipation.
Steve puffs out a laugh and shakes his head. As always, Eddie has other plans for their ‘quiet’ night in…
“What?” Eddie asks, catching him staring.
He tilts his head to the side like a curious puppy.
“I love you,” Steve replies, leaning into his side.
He looks at the Christmas tree as Eddie presses a featherlight kiss to his forehead.
But the sweet moment only lasts for a split second because, in a flash, Eddie flips back their bedding, the blanket half falling to the floor between the couch and the coffee table.
“Good,” he grins, swinging his leg over Steve’s lap to straddle him, bracketing his legs, “Put a baby in me.”
“Ed!” Steve splutters, frowning as Eddie claps a hand over his mouth to shush him.
“Quiet!” he stage-whispers.
“You be quiet,” Steve warns, smiling into his palm.
“Made you perk up, didn’t it?” Eddie teases, leaning back to look him over and they both giggle away, “Anyway, come on, tick-tick. Christmas miracle, all that shit...”
He hurriedly jabs into his shoulder.
“Need I remind you we are in your uncle’s living room?”
“We’ve done worse,” Eddie offers, raking his eyes over him, “Remember Thanksgiving 1989 when – ”
“ – We boned in Claudia’s powder room,” he finishes, nodding.
Eddie looks off into the distance – or perhaps just right behind them to the wood panelling. He sighs, all wistful and longing.
“Yeah,” he hums, “And you knocked Claudia’s good handtowel straight off the rack and into the toilet…”
Steve leans back and cocks his chin. Well, if Eddie isn’t going to be subtle about it, either...
“Take your pants off, baby.”
Eddie beams and gives a two-finger salute. He quickly begins shuffling about, lifting onto his knees so he can hook his fingers under the waistband of his black sweatpants and pull them down. Meanwhile, Steve lifts their blanket up and out to protect Eddie’s modesty.
Or, at least that’s what he intends to do. Eddie only gets his pants down to his knees when Steve catches Wayne’s bedroom door opening.
Eddie notices too and yelps, plopping back down onto Steve’s lap – hard.
“Don’t mind me,” Wayne says, walking along with the stiff gait of a man with a bad hip (one that he still won’t do a thing about), “Just goin’ to take a leak. My bladder isn’t what it used to be. The older you get, the weaker your bladder...”
“Can you please stop saying the word ‘bladder’!” Eddie squawks over his shoulder, but his uncle simply waves him away.
“I didn’t see nothin’!” Wayne grumbles, “Carry on.”
Eddie rolls his eyes as they both watch in awkward silence as Wayne disappears into the bathroom, a light soon cascading from it.
“Christmas sucks!” Eddie dry-sobs, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder with a disgruntled ‘hmph’.
“Just wait a minute,” he whispers, wrapping the blanket tight around Eddie’s partial nakedness.
Steve moves to give him a reassuring kiss but Eddie gasps, stilling on his lap as his eyes grow wide as saucers.
“What the fuck was that?” he gulps, his voice at full volume.
Eddie jolts again, his hands flying up to grip Steve’s shoulders tight, giving him no choice but to hold onto for dear life – even if he has no clue what’s got him so rattled…
“I can’t hear anything,” Steve says, looking around as his heart quickens.
Eddie scoffs and claws at a lock of his hair, just behind his right ear.
“God damn it, Stevie!” he spits, his head on a swivel as he whips it from side to side, likely looking for Steve’s abandoned hearing aids.
Steve is about to point to the end of the coffee table and thus ignite a squabbling match about it when Wayne reappears from the bathroom.
“What in the heck is that sound?” he grumbles.
“What is it?” Steve demands, looking between the other two.
“Some…” Wayne says, tilting his head in search of the sound, “Machine…”
Steve moves his head about to dodge Eddie as he squirms around in his lap, muttering what he can only assume is a string of expletives as he attempts to search for the noise too without straining his back or exposing himself.
“Damn it, Eddie,” Steve snaps, lifting his partner when he suspects he is about to get kneed straight in the goddamn balls.
“Jesus Christ, darlin’!” Wayne exclaims, bringing a hand to his chest.
Steve finally manages a glance over Eddie’s shoulder to find Joanie standing just inside the living room, her small frame silhouetted by the bathroom light.
She’s holding something with big eyes that appear to be blinking.
Now Steve can hear the robotic snoring sounds that have half the household scared out of their minds.
“Don’t worry, Pa,” Joanie says, stepping forward and holding up her Christmas present, “It’s just my Furby.”
More of Joanie Munson
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leothil · 2 months
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fic recs: archive edition 19
Well well well if it isn't Wednesday already. Why didn't I post this on Monday you ask? Well you may have noticed a little something went down on 911blr on both Monday and Tuesday. A few articles got published and such. A little launch party happened. A tiny bit of insanity took over the fandom. Kept me a bit preoccupied. But we're here now! One (or two) days more to enjoy some fanfic before the new episode takes over our brains for at least 24h!
This list has absolutely no cohesive theme, except they were all published around Halloween 2021.
rainbows have nothing to hide by @hattalove Buck and Chris come to the conclusion that memes about Kermit the frog fit Eddie a little too well, and a new secret language between them is born. Per the author: this is no contest the stupidest thing i've ever written, this show makes me sick in the brain. Personally I love a little silliness in my fics now and then! 3.7k words, rated T
The Monsterfucker's Symphony by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels The fic, the myth, the legend. 17 chapters of one-shots where one of Buck and Eddie or both of them are some kind of mythological creature. You will definitely find something you like, and maybe discover something new about yourself along the way. I'm not going to claim favourites, but I'm quite weak for the werewolf and witch chapters. 57.2k, rated E
Like Any Unloved Thing by @hmslusitania A noir urban fantasy AU where private investigator Eddie gets hired to find Maddie Buckley's lost brother. Hands down one of the best AUs I've ever read, with what might be my favourite use of magic and the supernatural in a modern setting. The atmosphere will burrow its way under your skin! 18.1k words, rated M
who's afraid of the little plastic pasta man? by lecornergirl (@clusterbuck) Technophobe!Eddie makes a glorious appearance when Buck buys a pasta timer in the form of a little chef that starts singing when your pasta is done. Incredible silly vibes! 1.5k words, rated G
Start the list with silliness, end the list with silliness, have a perfect balance. Enjoy your week, and may we all survive the season seven premiere!
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queers-gambit · 2 years
Text
Gone with the Sin
prompt: he loves another, and your fate is sealed.
pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
word count: 8.9k
note: Eddie's 19, readers 18+, Chrissy's 17-18 years old. also, 400 points to your Hogwarts House if you can tell me the band that sings the title song without cheating. AGAIN - not responsible for your therapy bills! additionally, there is an intensional shift at the end, where i got from "you" to "her". i hope it makes more sense when you read it.
warnings: Hanahaki Disease AU, cursing, character death, angst - again, ANGST!!! this gets gritty and dark and detailed, people - proceed with caution and maturity. NO SHAME in skipping this if you cannot handle it!! AGAIN - character death!! this gets sad. ✅ no spoilers
other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease AU fics: Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses Tears in the Rain
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Spring has sprung in Hawkins, Indiana, and with the approaching warm weather came the thunderstorms. It felt appropriate that the harsh winds and piercing bullets of rain ruined all of Mother Nature's hard work; storm in your heart mimicking the storm outside. It ripped fresh leaves from trees, pretty petals from newly sprouted stems, and sent animals to seek shelter; for unattended trash cans to blow over and children to be rushed inside.
You stood on your front porch, glancing up and down the barren street to find it empty. Your fingers worked together in nervous knots as something sick crept up your throat; winds whipping away the sounds of your struggling breath, and spraying the blood that was coughed out pathetically.
Tears ruined mascara down your cheeks, blood dribbling down your chin, and still, no headlights flashed onto your street. Never had you felt so terrible or sick, never had you felt so stupid; turning for your front door and staggering into your home only to let your eyes scan across the clock hanging in the foyer.
8:50 pm
He promised to pick you up at 6:30, and now you knew, he wasn't coming due to simple, excused forgetfulness. He just wasn't coming. Your hands shot out to catch your body when your coughing became gut-wrenching, doubling over as your lungs tried in vain to pull air in while expelling whatever clogged them upon exhale. No such luck, and black dots started to dance in your vision; the storm masking the sounds of your body falling into your mother's end table; sending picture frames, a book, and lamp shattering to the floor.
Broken bits of glass represented the state of your being and the ends of your floor-length dress scattered the shards as high-heeled feet tried to stumble towards the staircase.
If you could get upstairs, you'd be fine...
But energy was harder to come by, rational thought swept away with the raging storm, and oxygen was no longer available to you - forcing your legs to give up at the base of the staircase and careen your bare skin into the glass shards. You didn't register the pain because the worst of it was concentrated in your chest and heart, hands reaching out to drag your body up the first three steps.
Before you could pull yourself up to the fourth, your ears rang with a piercing whine and your eye lids fluttered heavily as lead weighed your limbs down. Your manicured hand reached up in the hope of grasping anything, never finding purchase, and thumping limply down with your cheek pressed to the carpet. Blood splatter painted the floor beside you before drooling in a puddle from your opened mouth.
You swear you saw his face in that moment, but your mind wasn't trustworthy - larger, darker spots clouding any sight.
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• 4 WEEKS EARLIER •
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"So, is Johnny Boy flying in for prom?" you asked Nancy, forking a bit of homemade chicken salad to your mouth. The cafeteria was loud with the usual bustle of kids, most of the seniors clamoring to talk prom details; the dance only weeks away.
Nancy Wheeler, probably your oldest standing friend, blushed under the make-up she'd already applied, "Yes. He's renting a tux and everything."
Robin chuckled with you, asking, "He's renting a tux?"
"He doesn't exactly own one," she defended her California-dwelling boyfriend. "And I'm just relieved he's actually coming that I don't care what he wears."
"Well, it's a big deal... I guess," Robin rolled her eyes to you.
"He buy a plane ticket yet?" You asked the girl across the table instead.
"He bought one last night," she blushed harder, still feeling like a giddy school girl with a silly crush at the thought of her boyfriend. However, you wondered if it was just because she was excited to get laid but hey! If she was happy, who cares! You and Robin both cooed obnoxiously, poking fun at the Wheeler girl as she became flustered and waved us off. But she couldn't dodge the half-eaten baby carrot Robin shot at her, scolding, "You're both children!"
Your shoulders shrugged dramatically, "We're fun."
"Unhinged, is more like it."
You and Robin shared a look before nodding dramatically. You assured Nancy with another shrug, "We can live with that."
She scoffed, "Whatever. Well, look, what about you two?"
"What about us?" Robin asked, glancing at you in feigned confusion.
"Who are you guys going with?"
"To what?" You asked dumbly.
She glared, "Prom! God! You're both so annoying, you know that, right?"
You couldn't fight off the taunting chuckle, "We're messing with you, Nance. We know what you're talking about, but we're not going."
"You're not?" Nancy squeaked.
"Nah, it's not - "
"I'm going."
"You are!?" You gasped at the girl beside you. "You're flaking on me? On the night we're supposed to finally watch Scarface? You traitor..."
"Well," she flushed slightly, "I just... I-I brought it up - you know, the whole prom thing - to Vickie, and she was receptive to all of it, and-and-and next thing I know, right, because she's, like, looking at me with these beautiful wide eyes that I just end up blurting it all out, and we know me, I'm not exactly quiet, or subtle, and I-I might've, like, spit on her face a little because I was so nervous and my mouth was sweating because I was doing that thing that I do when I ramble, but it was okay because she, like, totally laughed, and then, BOOM!" Her hands clapped together, "She nodded and, like, then she-she-she's saying yes!" Robin yelped, eyes wide to look between us. "To prom! With me!"
"She said yes?" You grinned, feeling genuine elation for your friend.
"She said yes - to me!"
"Well, that's not hard to believe, sweet cheeks, I mean, who could say no to that faaaaace?" Your hand reached out to pinch her cheeks, puckering her lips; making her swat away at you with a small giggle.
"Yeah, seriously, Robin," Nancy smiled, sending you a look; mother hen letting her eyes tell you to settle down. "That's really great news! We're so happy for you - that's so amazing. You guys are gonna have so much fun!" Her eyes shifted to you, and her voice dimmed, "And since Robin's going with Vickie, maybe Steve could take you?"
Your eyes rolled, "Oof, babe, pawning me off on Harrington as a pity date? No thank you - I'll happily stay home, order in, watch my movies. My parents are supposed to be gone the week of prom, so, I'll have the house to myself to smoke."
"Well, that doesn't sound totally sad."
"Bitch, you were literally going to do the same with me until you accidentally asked Vickie out to the prom."
Robin shrugged, "Yeah, but now I'm going and you're gonna be all alone? While the rest of us are partying? C'mon, that's no fun. You don't even need a date, who cares about all that - why don't we all just, like, go together, or something? Right? People do that, go in groups? I-I mean, not that it matters if it's a thing to do or not, 'cause who cares - okay - so, let's just do it, you know?"
"I'm flattered, really," you pouted at the two girls. "I mean, it's not everyday I'm offered to third wheel on two different dates at the same time. It's an honor to just be nominated, really."
Nancy rolled her eyes and tossed the half-eaten carrot at you.
However, that wasn't the last time prom was brought up that day. Usually you did all you could to avoid the "sappy, teenage stupid shit" but it followed you around the halls, into the lunch room, bathrooms, to your locker, and inside the classrooms.
And the one person you never expected to, asked you, "You goin' to prom?"
Your head lulled to glare over at your best friend since 6th grade, Edward 'the Freak' Munson. "Oh, my God. C'mon, not you too." Your eyes glared at the ceiling, hands pointing dramatically, "Gimme a break, man!"
"What?" he shrugged innocently. "Can't I ask a simple question? Jeez, didn't know you were so touchy, babe."
"You seriously want to talk about prom? You? Who literally made himself throw up but pretending to throw up so hard when I started talking about the Snow Ball when we were in 8th grade?" Your eyes rolled, neck cracked, and you slumped further into your chair.
Class was about to begin, students filtering in to take their seats.
"Well, yeah, you see, typically when someone asks a question, they want an answer, so, sure," he chuckled, mimicking your position and making you smile lightly, "let's talk about prom, princess. So? You going?"
"Nope."
"Why not? Thought all girls dreamed of going to prom and all that frilly shit."
"Not I, Mr. Munson. Haven't you learned by now?"
He mocked, "I know, I know, you're not like other girls."
"Exactly, so, no, I don't care about prom. Spend money on a hair style that'll hold for only 3 hours if I'm lucky, get my nails done before I pick them off from how annoying they are - and then what? Spend over $100 on a dress I'll only wear for a single night? I promise, there's better things to spend my money on." He nodded slowly, you changing the subject, "Speaking of spending money on better things, are you carrying?"
"When aren't I, princess?" he snorted lightly.
The last class of the day passed slowly for you two, but before long (and to your pleasure), you were free to rush out of the room with the sounds of the last bell; stop at both your lockers, load up your bags that Eddie hoisted up his shoulder, and make a beeline for Eddie's van. Tuesdays were only for you and Eddie since you had other obligations on other weekdays, and he had Hellfire on Friday's; so, you both were quick to get in the front seats.
"All right," he cleared his throat, pulling out the black, buckled pail he used for drug deals and flipped the lid, "how can I serve you this time, pretty girl?"
"An ounce, please."
He shot you a cautious look before chuckling dryly, "Celebrating something?"
You slapped the agreed upon cash to his hand and snatched the baggie of green from him, "Possibly."
"Wanna tell me?"
"Wanna celebrate with me?"
"Only if you answer a question for me."
"Depends on the question, but... Proceed with caution and ask me."
"Go to prom with me?"
You glared, jaw clenching, "No."
"What?" he whined, "C'mon, why not?"
Because I've been uselessly and helplessly in love with you since we were kids and I don't want your pity date, you thought sadly.
"Because it's literally stupid and a waste of time, energy, and money. Besides, I thought you didn't want to go - you've never gone before. What happened to all that bullshit about it being a 'conforming brainwash to distract us from the manipulative realities of life after graduation'?"
"Okay, yes, fine, sure, okay, whatever, you got it - I said that," he sighed, rolling his eyes lightly. "But I also might've already bought two tickets, and they're nonrefundable..."
Confusion swirled in your mind, pinning him with a softer look, "Why would you buy two tickets?"
Because I wanted Chrissy Cunningham to say yes and figured she would if I showed her the two tickets - for me and her. Show her I was serious about this, about us, Eddie thought to himself.
Instead of voicing the truth, he lied, "Well, one for you, and one for me, pretty girl, see, that's how two tickets are usually split between two people. Maybe - it's possible - I could've wanted to spend the last night of high school with my best friend. C'mon, please?" He pouted lightly. "Bet we both clean up real nice."
You felt suspicious, "Why would you...?"
"C'mon, doll, don't we both deserve a bit of a break?" he smiled lightly. "Just you, me, a few joints, and really bad music. We can hang for 10 minutes and leave if it's really as bad as we thought. Hmm? Is that an okay deal?"
"If I say yes, will you shut up and drive us home already?"
He grinned, "Yep."
"Fine."
"Fine what, pretty girl?"
You glared, huffing through your nose before relenting, "All right - fine, Eddie. Fine, I will..." Your eyes rolled, "I'll go to prom with you."
Eddie grinned and leaned over, letting his arm hook around your neck and yank you closer to press his lips to your cheek in rapid kisses. You whined lightly and pushed him back, trying to fight down the warmth spreading in your chest from his actions.
Nobody knew you like he did, making you feel safe and vulnerable with only him. High school was a weird time for you and you didn't really get many dates, maybe being in part why you and Eddie were so close. Time spent together meant a lot of walls were dismantled brick by brick and it was hard not to fall in love with someone like him; with his soft hands, kind words, charismatic attitude...
Sure, the drug dealing was a bit... Less than ideal, but still! Eddie was Eddie and you've loved him for what felt like eternity.
You returned home on cloud nine and while it made your heart sing with glory over being asked to the senior prom with your long-time-crush-slash-best-friend, for the strangest reason, that night, you started coughing. It was a wet, rattling cough that made you think you had a flu, a cough growing in intensity that made you double at the waist and stumble towards your bathroom. You coughed more as you filled a plastic cup with tap water, choking as you tried to clear your throat by gulping down whatever was stuck. It worked for a few moments, cup drained as you lowered it before the violent attack began again.
This time, it drove you to your knees; hacking until you spit something from your tongue. Amongst the foam of your saliva, were bits of torn-up peach-pink petals. Your eyes glared at the odd sight before you figured it was too late to go to a doctor - how the hell would I even explain this one? At least last time, it all made sense what was wrong and how the doctors were gonna fix everything.
You rationalized it in your head that you would "go to the Emergency Room" if this persisted, which was an outright LIE because you had this developmental phobia of hospitals. It wasn't something you liked to discuss but long story short, when you were younger, you had a near-fatal medical emergency that resulted in a 6-part surgery, 109-day hospital stay - curating your fear.
Every appointment thereafter only solidified this fear. And your parents understood the trauma you experienced, never pushing you into anymore appointments because you agreed to a yearly examine that would confirm you were still out of danger.
So, when the next week rolled around and you were huffing fucking flower petals from your mouth and lungs, you kept your mouth shut... Unless to pick petals out - then, obviously, your mouth was open. However, that whole week, you felt... Run down. Disconnected. Confused. Scared. And pretty pissed off - the coughing was toe-curling painful and you weren't a fan of it interrupting your day.
Nancy and Robin noticed, and the Wheeler girl brought you cough-drops to suck on.
And that whole week, Eddie was distracted. He caught himself staring off in the cafeteria, eyes glued on Chrissy Cunningham's figure. You'd noticed the heart eyes he made and rolled your own, nudging him, "C'mon, man, knock it off and quit staring before Jason kicks your ass again."
He scoffs and crosses his arms, "I'm not staring."
"Oh, yeah? And I'm the Queen of Sheba," you retorted. "I could get you a pair of binoculars if that makes it easier," you teased, ignoring the way your heart now thumped with unease. Discomfort... Pain. "Maybe you can even crawl up the tree in her yard, watch her in her bedroom. Fucking creeper, stop staring at her, Jesus Christ!"
Eddie's then laughing at you, "You're literally an idiot."
"And you're staring at a girl who's boyfriend looks for reasons to pick on you," you retaliated with an unimpressed stare. "C'mon, Eddie, be practical."
"Be practical?"
"She's with Jason - has been since, what? Freshman year?" You sighed, arms crossing in the hope of relieving the pressure in your chest but found it was only getting harder to breath. "Staring at her is gonna get your shit rocked, and I'm not cleaning you up again."
"You're right," he sighed, shaking his head as his arms slowly crossed over your chest. "Hey, uh... Did you want to match at prom?"
"Match?" you repeated, laughing after you realized it was his poor attempt at changing the subject. "Wh-What? Like wear the same color and all that goofy shit?"
"Well, yeah, that goofy shit, c'mon, we gotta do it up all the way, baby," he smiled at you. "C'mon, you look so beautiful in red."
"Oh, I look good in it? Has nothing to do with the fact it's your favorite color?"
He grinned now, "Nothing at all."
You sighed and leaned back in your chair, admitting, "I'm going dress shopping with Nance and Robin this weekend."
"You are? Look at you!" He cooed, "Being all girly and shit! I'm proud of you!"
"Don't push me, there's still plenty of time for me to back out of this date," you warned, trying not to let your heart drop too low when his smile lessened upon hearing the word 'date'.
That weekend, you did go dress shopping but you didn't buy that pretty red number - you chose this pale silvery color that made your skin nearly twinkle. Robin had gushed over how good you looked, and Nancy refused to let you leave the store without it. You three went to a few other stores and you decided on a pair of shining red heels; Nancy buying a pretty lilac dress with silver heels, and Robin chose a sultry blue color, with white heels.
2 weeks before prom, you were starting to feel the pressure but not like everyone else as your peers ran around like headless chickens. All around school, girls complained about needing to "lose weight" or "buy a whole new dress" because "the original color was atrocious" or even how their boyfriends "made a reservation at Antonio's - as if I'd ever eat there!"
Boys complained, "I have to rent a tux in this God-awful blue color," or the ever present, "what the fuck is a corsage?" and the occasional, "what's wrong with Antonio's - they've got the best burgers, man!"
You listened mutely, worrying something was wrong with you because you didn't feel that overwhelming panic they did. Instead, your breathing got worse and your skin started to dull as life was virtually sucked out of you, prom seeming so fucking stupid - and yet, it was keeping you going. You hated to admit it, but your feelings for Eddie were finally coming to a head and you were debating if this "date" meant something more, or if it was just your stupid girly heart wanting something impractical.
That was the week your symptoms changed; the same week Eddie was seen speaking in low voices to Chrissy Cunningham at her locker when everyone else was in class. When nobody else was in the hall to see their close proximity, to see their whispers and longing looks.
Nobody else in the hall except you - but you were on a mission.
You didn't say anything to them because you were rushing to the bathroom, skidding to your knees on the dirty floors in front of a toilet as blood was being heaved out of your mouth. "No! God, no, please, God, holy shit!" You gargled through pain, spitting, retching, and sobbing as you were being shredded from the inside.
But God didn't have business in the girl's dirty bathroom of Hawkins High School, and apparently, he didn't have business with you.
Inside the toilet bowl were short sticks of floral blooms and leafy greens, but no matter how hard you looked, you couldn't identify the flower floating at the top. As disgusting as it was, you reached in and fished the bloody plants from the water, turned to the sinks, and rinsed them off; lifting your gaze slowly and hating the reflection that stared back at you.
Deep, bruising bags lined in rings around your eyes; iris' dull; skin tired and dry to the touch; hair brittle and lacking any health or shine. Your fingers were bonier, collarbones sticking out from under your shirt, and you began to wonder when the last time you could stomach a full meal was. You looked like a ghost, a stranger in the reflection; someone who looked like they'd sell their left kidney for a guaranteed hour-long nap.
Shaking your head and adverting your eyes, the flowers were rinsed of blood clots but it didn't do anything to answer your questions as the only identifying factor was the four-petal pinwheel. You jumped in fright when the door opened, turning wide, fearful eyes to look at Chrissy slowing her stride. She blinked a few times before worry etched across her face, "Oh, my God. A-Are you okay?"
"What?"
She pointed to her lips, "You're bleeding."
Your eyes cut back to the mirror and widened to see the blood smears, reaching for a few paper towels to hastily wipe at your face. Your nose sniffled sharply, "Yeah, Chris, all good, thanks."
"You don't look good," her brows were crinkled and eyes wide with worry. "Do you need the nurse? Or, um... I don't know, someone to talk to?"
"What I need, you can't give me," you whispered, shaking your head before using a dry paper towel to wrap up the small brown stick. "Excuse me," you rushed, pushing past her and running down the hall, shoving out of the school doors, and bolting for your car.
In your driver's seat, you opened the paper towel and got a look at the meat caught between thick thorns that didn't wash off down the drain, and fought off an anxiety attack.
Every day that week, you went to different plant nurseries, botanical shops, hardware stores - anywhere you thought someone could identify the flowers you were coughing out. You knew now you couldn't go to a hospital, it was futile; but the stems were morphing and it was becoming increasingly painful. Plus, if you were coughing out flowers, why wouldn't you go to someone who knew plants?
Well, the only thing you were able to do was identify the flower. Something called The Crown of Thorns - a durable, drought-tolerant flower with a range of colors, but all with a range of thorns in size and consistency.
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However, on that Friday, luck turned around and you had hopped a few towns over to check out an old botanical shop. The wooden shop was lathered in books and plants, the smell of leather circulating around you as your eyes took in the antique decor. You prayed this was the shop to be in for something as strange as puking flowers - and you were right. The aging shopkeep listened to your hushed words, explaining your symptoms, before frowning deeply and turning silently to a bookshelf. She reached up and pulled a little blue book down before opening the passage, sticking a bookmark in, and handing it to you.
The old woman wished you luck and pushed you out of her door, never once accepting the money you tried to hand her. You laid in bed for the weekend, reading the entire book front to back; drops of blood saturating the thin, old yellowed pages.
The waste bin at home was soon stuffed to the brim with broken stems, loose petals, and bloody tissues. Your mother didn't notice the change in you because she was so focused on her up-coming business trip, your father choosing to go with her as a make-shift vacation to Chicago. In fact, you barely saw them in that week, leading you to seek solitude with a backpack full of magazines Nancy had shoved into your arms earlier.
She told you to have a hair and glam look picked out by prom because you, Robin, and she were going to get ready together. You tried to save blood from dripping onto the pages but the nose bleeds snuck up on you; discoloring the glossy images under your fingers. Tears often blurred the images as you could do nothing but cry through the harrowing pain, not knowing that Jason Carver was screaming at Chrissy Cunningham... And the cheerleader was calling Eddie Munson, in tears, asking him to talk.
You didn't know he agreed easily and was sneaking over to her house, being extra quiet because of her mother as he came in through her window; while you bruised your knees from the force you hit them when thicker blooms were being regurgitated through globs of thick blood clots. Shredded bits of your throat still stuck in the thorns.
The week of prom, you had resorted to taking liquid Benadryl just to sleep. It was doing enough of the trick, and you were sleeping 3-4 hours a night; but you woke up each morning, on your side, a large puddle of blood staining your bed sheets. But hey, at least it was PROM WEEK!
Right?
Banners lined the school.
Energy of the student body was higher than ever before, gossip echoing down the hall and in your ears.
Yet, you were just tired. Being in a constant state of pain took every ounce of energy you had and the Benadryl could only help so much before your coughs woke you, forcing you to hack out flowers. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, Eddie seemingly taking slight pity and letting your head rest on his shoulder during classes you shared. He even did your classwork, the sweetheart.
When you woke to the last bell dismissing everyone for the weekend, you were sluggishly lifting off of Eddie to pack away your backpack. "Hey," the boy beside you spoke quietly, "you feeling okay?"
"Yeah."
"Don't lie to me, you look exhausted."
"Great observation, Eds," you muttered. "I'm just not sleeping well."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now, hey, um, I'm gonna get a ride home with Nancy, okay? We're getting our nails done."
Eddie's lips stretched in a bright grin as we stood from our desks and his hands took my backpack wordlessly to hike up his shoulder. "You're gonna get your nails done?"
"Um... Y-Yeah?"
"That's really cool, doll," he assured, nudging your arm gently. "Do you need money? I can give you some - "
"No, God no," you refused, shaking your head rapidly. "Um, yeah, you know, I asked Daddy and he gave me enough to treat Nancy too, so, I'm good."
He chuckled, "The pros of being a Daddy's Girl, huh?"
"Watch your mouth, Munson," you warned.
His hands rose, "All right, hey, I'm kidding, it's a good thing. Well, if I'm not driving you home, guess I'll just... See you tomorrow?"
You gulped as you approached your locker, rocking on your toes as you dialed your combo. "Right, yeah, sure... I'll uh... I don't know," you breathed, shaking your head slightly. "Nancy and Robin want to get ready together."
"Cool," he smiled, "I'll pick you up at Wheeler's, okay? 6:30 sound cool?"
"Yeah, totally cool," you nodded.
Eddie smiled and leaned in, one hand holding your cheek as his lips kissed your other. "Perfect," he breathed against your skin, pulling back to smile at you. "Just remember, it's only me, okay? We're gonna have a good time - no need to be nervous - 'cause we're gonna be together. Right?"
"Right," you nodded in agreement, his hand falling away as he straightened up. You looked to your feet, and Eddie's eyes jutted up to catch Chrissy as her locker - watching the two of you intently. When she caught Eddie's gaze, the cheerleader blushed and turned away. "So, I'll just - yeah, okay. See you tomorrow."
"I'll be the one in red," he joked, handing over your schoolbag. "Bye, pretty girl."
After you stuffed everything you didn't need in your locker, you pulled out whatever you did need, slammed it shut, and rushed for the front of the school. "Hey," Robin beamed when she saw you, linking arms instantly. "Nancy's at her car."
"Great..."
"C'mon, lighten up!" Robin jostled your arm but frowned when she looked at you. "Dude, your nose."
Your hand shot into your pocket and pulled out a trusted tissue, using it to mop up the red liquid, "Sorry, yeah, just... I don't know, dry air or something."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah, sure, all good. Um, hey, have you ever gotten your nails done?"
"Me? No - couldn't afford it."
"Well, Daddy gave me money, so... I could pay?"
"You'd do that?" Robin breathed.
"Of course," you assured. "C'mon, you know he gave me more than I need, and Nance already worked this into her budget. Please? I don't wanna be the only one sitting there like 'what the fuck is happening?'"
Robin laughed, "All right, fine, good point. All right, cool, you can totally treat me and spend your money on me."
"Good," you perked a brow with a smirk.
The rest of the afternoon was spent at the nail salon. It was a fucking experience - a weird fucking experience because you didn't like hospitals, or people touching your feet. Nancy assured you that it was okay, this was part of the process; holding your hand when you flinched and made the nail tech glare up at you.
Your toes were painted a bright cherry red, matching the red French tip you got on your fingernails. Nancy chose a classic French tip on both hands and feet, and Robin got classic, sleek, shining blue that matched her dress color perfectly. You had to admit, once you got over the whole 'someone touching your feet' thing, it was nice to feel pampered... It was nice to feel like a "real" girl.
You rejected Nancy's proposal of a sleepover because you couldn't handle explaining to her or Robin why there was a puddle of blood under your mouth. Why you were hacking violently at 2 am. Why your breathing became wet and ragged, why you needed to take a shot of Benadryl before bed.
The next day, all hell broke loose because you were 20 minutes late to Nancy's house, and she almost instantly pushed you into a shower when you made it there. You three ladies got a real groove on where Nancy did all of your make-up, Robin did hair, and you - well, you were just there for the thrill because this was 100% out of your realm of comfort.
And when 6 pm came around, you three were shimmying into your dresses; tying each other in; lacing heels on, and fixing any out-of-place strands of hair. Jewelry was latched, perfume sprayed, and last minute details worried over. You packed your clutch purses with whatever necessities you needed (yours literally nothing but tissues) before being declared ready.
All the parents took a plethora of photos, your parents having begged the Wheelers to take extras for them to have a copy. It was mildly embarrassing to take photos alone, but you knew Eddie was just running late because he was never on time. Right? That's all this was, Eddie lost track of time and he was gonna be here any minute.
"Um, hey," Jonathan checked his watch, "dance starts soon, we should head out."
Nancy turned her worried gaze to you - who instantly lifted your arms to wave her off, "All good, I'll wait for Eddie at my house. The idiot probably got high and lost track of time, or something."
"Are you sure?" she worried. "Just come with us - he can meet you there."
"No, it's cool, my house is on the way to the school," you again, waved her off. "I'm really sure, I forgot the necklace I wanted to wear at home anyways," you tried to laugh off, but the truth was, your chest was caving in. After some mild convincing from Robin and Nancy, you stuck to your guns that you could wait at home, and as your friends got in their rides, you asked Mrs. Wheeler that if a long-haired, van-driving metalhead showed up to tell him you were at your house.
She nodded and handed you the Polaroids for your parents, leaving you to pack up in your own car and make the short drive to your house as dark storm clouds were rolling into town. When 7:30 struck, so did the first crack of thunder.
And unknown to you, who waited uselessly on your front porch, Eddie was getting read to head out his door - with every intention of being on time - when suddenly, as he ripped it open, Chrissy Cunningham was revealed on the other side. Her fist was raised as if to knock, gasping and jumping nervously when Eddie opened the door. "Chrissy," he breathed in shock, eyes wide. "Um... W-What're you doing here?"
As you waited, Chrissy explained she and Jason had the biggest fight they've ever had - cursing, screaming, and the blonde boy storming away with both prom tickets in his suit pocket. You waited, and Chrissy told Eddie she felt safe with him, needed the comfort, and had changed her mind about going to prom with Eddie, and as she confessed her long-harbored feelings for the Dungeon Master, you wiped blood from your mouth as you waited.
He ended up inviting her inside in home, both sitting on his couch with his hands in hers as he listened - something Jason never did to her. He complimented her, finding her red dress outstandingly beautiful on her pale skin; finding the blush on her cheeks something he wanted to see more of. He became tongue-tied and confused when she admitted she had a fight with Jason because of him - because Jason accused her of having a "thing for the Freak!"
And they broke up because Jason was right, and Chrissy told him that. She broke up with Jason because she loved Eddie and wasn't afraid of her feelings anymore; rushing to his house in a long red dress before prom because she needed him to know.
Chrissy loves me, he thought impossibly; staring at the cheerleader with shock and awe because this was all he's ever wanted. And Eddie didn't often think he deserved the things he wanted.
Nothing else was on his mind except the pretty strawberry blonde, lifting his hand to gently caress her cheek as any rational thought evaporated when her lips parted to push a breath over his chin. When Eddie leaned in to kiss Chrissy for the first time, nothing else mattered because he had all he ever could've wanted right here, right now.
They showed up to prom at 8 pm; both wearing bright, gleaming smiles as their outfits were matched perfectly. He had given her a corsage, and she pinned a boutonnière to his rented tux jacket; hands laced together tightly as they arrived at the Hawkins High gym and warranted all of the attention.
Everyone stared because the sight of head cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, showing up at prom looking like a fucking princess with Eddie Munson - the Freak, who, admittedly, cleaned up very nice.
The prom was enchanting with fake billowing arrangements of loose vines, flowers, and candles. The lights were dimmed, and the music already off to a rocky start by Eddie's standards. However, the snack table was in full-swing, the punch bowl already spiked, and Eddie couldn't want anything more as he let his hands wrap around Chrissy's waist.
They swayed to a slow song, enraptured with one another.
He lost himself in the music; in the smell of her perfume and feel of her body pressed against his. She let him kiss her, muttered she loved him, then pushed her hand into his hair to gently twist strands around her fingers.
Eddie was in bliss.
He was so fucking happy.
Nothing could ruin this for him.
Until, "What the fuck are you doing, Munson!?"
He jumped and turned, seeing an enraged Robin Buckley glaring at him. "Robin?" he questioned dumbly, seeing Nancy Wheeler charging up to them. "Oh, um, hi Nancy - "
"What the fuck are you doing here!?" Robin demanded, eyes ablaze.
"Dancing...?" He looked nervously around, keeping an arm around Chrissy.
"We can see that - but why're you dancing with Chrissy?" Nancy snapped.
"What am I missing right now?" Eddie asked desperately, hating the way they looked at him now.
Robin snapped your name, and all color drained from Eddie's face. "She's waiting on you, you fucking dickhead!" Robin raged, Vickie stepping in to pull her date's arms back a little.
"She got all excited," Nancy sneered. "She didn't want to come to this, she was content to be alone and do her own thing. We were gonna convince her to come with us - but then you asked her. So why're you here? Huh? Why're you here with Chrissy when she's waiting on you?"
"She bought a dress, new heels, new make-up! Got her nails done, got dolled up, looks so fucking pretty! And for what!? For you to, what, Eddie?"
"I-I," his bottom lip trembled as tears filled his eyes, "oh, my God, I forgot. I forgot her."
"No shit!" Robin, Vickie, Jonathan, and Nancy all snapped; making Chrissy jump a little into Eddie's embrace.
"You've gotta go, man!" Jonathan encoruaged.
"And pray she forgives you!" Robin sneered. "'Cause I sure as hell wouldn't! What happened? Huh?" Eddie shook his head, sniffling. "Jesus Christ, you're pathetic - what happened, Chrissy shows you a little attention and you forget about the one girl who's only ever loved you unconditionally?"
"GO!" the teenagers raged in sync again.
"I'm sorry," He looked down to Chrissy, pulling away, "I-I have to go."
"Of course, go, go," she nodded, giving him a little push as Eddie turned and sprinted out of the gym.
He sprinted into the rain, away from the school.
Down streets.
Through puddles.
Around honking cars.
All the way to your house, finding only your car in the driveway and lights on in your house. Panic swelled when he caught sight of the opened front door, sprinting up the driveway; taking the porch stairs two at a time, and as he burst over the threshold, came to a skidding halt.
A blood curdling scream fell on deaf ears as Eddie registered the sight before him - begging your name like a desperate prayer and dropping to his knees beside you. He sobbed harder than ever before, pulling you into his lap as blood was smeared up and down your nose, cheeks, and chin; mingling with the rain water that dripped off him, and onto you.
"No, no, no, no! C'mon, pretty girl, c'mon, open your eyes, please, please," he whispered, caressing your cheek and seeing your eyes flutter. "That's it, baby, c'mon, come back to me. Please, wake up, I'm right here, I'm here, I've got you... I'm so sorry. Oh, my God, what's happening, baby, please, what's wrong? What's going on?" he sobbed, cradling you against his chest and watching as your arm weakly rose to point behind him. "What? What is it?" He sniffled, looking back to the floor and seeing the littering of glass, broken lamp, and then... An old, bloody blue book.
"T-The book?" he asked you, seeing the faintest nod as your hand shook and gave up in strength. "No, no, no, no, hey, hey! No, baby, you've gotta stay with me, please," he sobbed, shaking you again as he tried to pull you in closer. "Just stay strong for a little while longer, oh, fuck - I'm so sorry! Please, don't give up, okay? I'm right here, please, I'm right here, I have you, please, baby, I-I don't understand what's wrong. Please, sweetheart, just tell me what's wrong! Don't leave me, please, I-I can't do this - I can't do this without you! NO! GOD - YOU CAN'T TAKE HER YET!" He screamed bloody murder over the sounds of the raging storm, watching your eyes flutter back into your skull and any energy in your body completely deflated.
"Y-You were - you pointed at the book, baby, why? Please! Why the book, please, stay with me, okay? Why the book? You're - shit, it's okay, you're gonna be okay, but you have to stay with me, please, please! Just tell me about the book, baby, please! Talk to me - please! Fuck!" He sniffled, trying to wake you but from the way your eyes remained unseeing, he knew you weren't with him anymore; the way your mouth was gently parted but not passing air, he knew you were gone. "Please, God, no," Eddie whimpered, a hand raising to pet his fingers down her soft cheek.
Eddie screamed until his throat went raw; never knowing that the inside of her throat still dripped blood into her stomach. Tears soaked down his cheeks, rocking her with him as snot bubbled at his nostrils, but he could only beg, "COME BACK! NO! I'M SORRY - COME BACK! Please! Please," his voice cracked, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean - I'm so sorry. No, no, no, please, just - just come back! I'm sorry! Come back to me," his hand caressed her cheek, "please."
Nothing made sense and his head throbbed; looking around desperately as his mind couldn't fathom what he'd discovered - but his eyes could only scan over that fucking book she spent her last moments of life pointing at. Her skin was cooling, and there was no pulse at the point of her neck; Eddie's calloused hands shaking as he tried to still wake her up.
Then, he caught sight of something in her mouth, behind the ruby-red painted lips. As terrible and disgusting as it was, he gently pulled her stiff jaw down and used his pointer finger and thumb to reach in, pinch something soft, pulling it out. "Please, God, what is this!?" He sobbed, setting the small, thickly-thorned flower to the side of him as the feeling of her sticky blood was making him feel sick. "Please, please, please wake up," he still begged, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry," he sniffled, sopping wet hair dripping water over her still face. "I'm so sorry - I should've been here. I'm so sorry, I should've - I should've done something! FUCK!"
He sobbed as he set her down to rush for the phone, dial 911, and explain the situation. He returned to pull her body back into his lap; rocking like it was soothing someone - whether her, or him, he wasn't sure. But Eddie had to do something, so he tried CPR - but stopped when each compression of her chest sent a splatter of blood over her smooth skin.
Eddie went in the ambulance with her body, tattered book in his hand; using the other to hold her cooling hand even when the EMT's pronounced her dead on the scene.
This wasn't happening - this wasn't real.
Eddie waited for hours as an autopsy was performed - telling the morgue he wasn't leaving until he had answers, and planting himself on the sidewalk as he vapidly read the book she wanted him to take. The pages that answered all of his questions were dotted with dried drops of her blood; allowing Eddie to assume she was suffering for longer than he could've imagined. It's where Jonathan and Nancy found him when they were cruising through town, looking for any sign of their friends. When they arrived and sat beside him, softly asking Eddie what was wrong and what happened, he just pulled his knees in and sobbed loudly.
They waited with him.
16 hours after he found her, her parents were coming to a screeching halt in their car before bolting for the morgue's front doors. Eddie picked his head up, waiting; wondering; watching for any movement.
His hand fisted the book in a white-knuckle grip, the other wiping his eyes of stinging, guilty tears.
18 hours after he found her, her parents were shakily exiting the morgue with grim looks of acute distress. Her Daddy caught Eddie's eyes and after assisting his wife into the passenger seat, turned for the young man who his daughter loved more than anyone. Nancy and Jonathan shared a nervous look as Eddie couldn't stop crying, looking to her father through red eyes.
"I was told that... You found her?" Her Daddy whispered.
"I-I did," Eddie whispered.
He nodded, "She was still in her dress, all dolled up."
"Sh-She looked beautiful in that dress," Eddie sobbed, a hand slapping over his mouth.
"Docs know what happened," he nodded, clearing his throat. "Said there were Crowns of Thorns crowding in her lungs. Said it made it almost impossible to breath, said-said that the thorns were cutting her from the inside; said she was in a lot of pain from all that."
Eddie hated the idea of her suffering, opening the withered book to show her Daddy the folklore she'd discovered. Nancy and Jonathan shuffled down the sidewalk a little, watching as her father turned and dropped to the concrete beside Eddie; backs against the morgue building as he read the inked words through dried blood. Her father gingerly leafed through a few pages before sighing sadly, nodding in acceptance.
"I killed her," Eddie whispered. "I-I couldn't see that she was suffering, and... And I killed her."
"You didn't - "
"Didn't you read what I did?" Eddie snipped, sunken, haunted eyes staring at her father and begged him to understand. "Sh-She got sick because she loved me, and I couldn't love her back. She's gone - because of me."
"Unrequited love is never really anyone's fault," her father sighed, closing the book and handing it back to Eddie. "I just... I just hate my little girl suffered."
Eddie's heart shattered, nodding before whispering, "Me too. I didn't help her," Eddie wobbled. "I-I promised I'd always help her, I promised I'd always be there for her - an-and I wasn't." His eyes filled with tears as he admitted, "I forgot her, and went to prom with another girl - "
However, this made her father bristle, and he snapped, "Don't you say another word if you want us to keep our good opinion of you. Because if I find out that you're telling me that... That my little girl was waiting on you, and that she died alone, I'm going to lose it, Eddie. You hear me?" The younger man swallowed thickly and nodded. Her father nodded once, "Good."
Eddie had to remind himself that the man just lost his daughter, and his 180 attitude change was completely warranted. If Eddie were in her father's place, he was sure he wouldn't know what to do either except hate whoever was responsible.
"Could I ask you for a favor?" Eddie asked through his tears; Steve Harrington pulling up with his car loaded with Freshman, plus Robin, and Vickie - and yeah, even Chrissy - only to pause and watch the scene on the sidewalk.
"What is it, boy?"
Eddie reached up and pulled the necklace from around his neck, handing it over with a shaking hand, "Y-Your daughter got me this pick when I first told her I wanted to learn the guitar when were were kids. She, uh... She always knew how to make me feel supported, so, I just... I don't know," Eddie's voice cracked painfully and tears poured down his cheeks, "I just thought she should have it back... Just to... Have a little piece of us wherever she ends up."
Her father swallowed and shook his head, "I'm not burying my only child with a keepsake from the man who killed her." Eddie's eyes widened and his hand retracted, pulling the necklace into his chest as her father's red-rimmed eyes turned to him, "We'll tolerate you going to the funeral, we might let you read something, too. After that, make no mistake, we want nothing to do with you. She was..." Her father shook his head as the words stuck in his throat like flower petals had done to her's, "She was the best of us, and you ruined her. I hope you know that all she did was love you, and I hope the guilt sticks with you, kid. Because her mother and I will never know peace... You took that from us when you decided to take another girl to prom and forget about my innocent baby girl. Now, I get to identify her body and instead of picking out a graduation dress, I get to pick out a casket." The two men held eye contact for another minute, her father shaking his head, "Never thought it'd be you, boy, but... I've been disappointed by you before."
"I'm sorry," Eddie gasped through his emotion. "I'm so sorry, I feel terrible, please, please know that I'm so fucking sorry."
"Sorry don't bring the dead back. Sorry won't fix my girl, I can't ever get her back and you? You get to live a long, happy life... Love many girls... And my little girl? My only child? My ray of sunshine in this shitty, cursed town?" Her father scoffed, "She got a cruel and unusual punishment that made her suffer because you could never get your head outta your ass long enough to see how she felt. She didn't deserve that."
"She didn't," Eddie agreed brokenly. His guilt felt insurmountable, but increased tenfold to understand her parents blamed him - that was okay, because he blamed himself.
Her father stood to his feet and sniffled, nodding at Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers (still in their prom clothes). Before he could walk away, Eddie's best friend's father nodded down at a defeated Eddie, leaving him with one last comment, "Now you're seeing clearly, and now, you'll only get to only see her from inside a coffin. Some best friend you are."
Eddie sobbed on the sidewalk for at least another hour, everyone surrounding him and passing the blood-splattered book around that explained her untimely end. Both your friends cracked with emotion; Steve leaning in to hold Robin as Nancy sobbed into Jonathan's shoulders, the kids with tears just silently falling down their cheeks.
However, despite knowing he deserved it, the others didn't blame him, and instead, tried to offer a small amount of comfort to the distressed metalhead who had held his dying best friend in his arms, in her final moments. He didn't know about her feelings, and she never voiced them openly - nobody could blame him for wanting to date. Nobody could blame him for not knowing his best friend harbored deep secrets.
Still, while his friends didn't, Eddie blamed himself.
Damn near the whole town went to her funeral.
Damn near everyone - except the boy who killed her; who chose to wait at the graveyard, wait until her casket was lowered, wait until everyone left, and wait until the dirt was pushed back into the hole she'd been lowered into before he approached. He did so slowly, hands in his prom suit pants pockets that now doubled as funeral attire; a bouquet of flowers silently laid on her grave.
Eddie dropped to his knees in the dirt; sobbing until his chest hurt, and then sobbing some more.
He begged her spirit to forgive him - despite knowing he never deserved it. Nothing made sense to him, and he hated how empty his life was without her. He agonized over the last few weeks the two of you had together, cursing himself for not noticing; and hating himself more for forgetting.
Every single Tuesday, Eddie visited her grave. Like when you two were in school, you hung out together on Tuesdays, and Eddie kept the tradition. He brought new flowers every other week, and started to keep a journal so he could easily update her about his life, as if there were only distance between them - and not transcending planes of the living and dead. He and Chrissy eventually got married, and never once did she try to interrupt his Tuesday plans because even after she were gone, Chrissy knew there was no replacing her as Eddie's best friend - not even Chrissy could fill that void.
Her parents eventually moved to Tennessee to live with other family, dropping off only a box of her things they figured Eddie would want, but he could never leave Hawkins. He couldn't - not when she were buried there. He couldn't - not when that's the town he met her in. He couldn't - not when this was both of your homes, and the only town you both ever knew. He couldn't - not when his guilt was preventing him from ever considering moving on.
Chrissy hated watching him suffer but there was nothing that could alleviate the stress and guilt Eddie felt. There was nothing to do but let him disappear to the graveyard every single Tuesday because it seemed to be the only thing that brought him the smallest sliver of comfort. He felt close to her on those Tuesdays, and nothing would deter him - not even that crazy wicked snow storm of '91.
He never left Hawkins because Eddie had forgotten you once, and it cost him everything - so, he promised to never forget you again.
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i'm sorry
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megalony · 11 days
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Flight Plan
This is my newest Evan x reader x Eddie fic which includes Autistic! reader. I hope you will all like this little holiday fic, let me know what you think.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone
Eddie Diaz Masterlist
Evan Buckley Masterlist
Summary: Evan, (Y/n) and Eddie are taking Chris on holiday for the first time together. And it takes a bit of love and comfort to get them all through customs and safely on the plane. (Autistic! reader)
Enjoy.
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"Thanks for the ride." Leaning forward against the front seats, Evan gave Hen's shoulder a tight squeeze and gave her an awkward hug between the seats. She couldn't get out and see them off, she was in the drop-off zone.
"No problem, don't forget to call us when you get there."
"Will do. Don't burn down the station while we're away, yeah?" Evan clambered out the car before she could smack him for that last comment.
A grin spread across his lips and he climbed out, stretching his arms high above his head so he could click his neck and spine into place. It felt good to be up and moving about after nearly half an hour in the car. He grabbed his backpack from the back seat and slid it on his shoulders before he turned to face his little family.
The four of them turned and waved as Hen pulled away and started her drive back home. She had been gracious enough to drop them at the airport so they didn't have to book a taxi. Neither Eddie or Evan wanted to drive and park their car here for two weeks.
"Are we ready?"
Evan held out Chris's dinosaur bag and helped him slip it onto his shoulders, before he turned to look over at (Y/n) and Eddie.
She had her hands wrapped around Eddie's bicep and she was pushing up on her toes so she could perch her chin on his shoulder. She gave his arm a little shake and pressed her lips to his neck before she moved to hover her lips over his ear.
"Can I have my meds now?"
Her eyes followed Eddie as he shook his wrist to look down at his watch with pursed lips that made his nose scrunch up.
"Not yet, mi amor." He kissed her temple even as she groaned into his neck and started to fidget.
"Please… they need time to work, I don't wanna be awake on the plane."
"Baby if you have them now and you get drowsy during check-in they'll think we've drugged you. They won't let me carry you on that plane, you know."
Eddie knew she was nervous. He knew (Y/n) wanted the new sleeping medication the doctors had given her for the flight. The meds were supposed to relax (Y/n) and make her fall asleep on the plane so she wouldn't sit and panic or have a meltdown. But they would take time to kick in. (Y/n) was nervous that if she didn't take them now, she would have to take them on the plane and wait a few hours for them to kick in.
She wanted to feel drowsy the moment they got on the plane and fall asleep around take off so she didn't have to deal with the flight.
But Eddie couldn't let her take the meds now. She had never taken them before and if they worked a little too well, they would be in trouble. Security would be worried if (Y/n) started to get drowsy or she fell asleep before they got on the plane. And they might think Eddie or Evan had drugged her or were trying to hurt her. She had to be alert until they got on the plane, whether that made her nervous or not. It killed Eddie, but she couldn't have her meds yet.
"Okay, come here buddy." Evan reached out and picked Chris up so he could sit Chris down on his suitcase that was jet black with light green and aqua blue game controllers painted around it.
Evan made sure the handle bar was up and it was wedged between Chris's back and his bag so if Chris tried to jump off suddenly, the suitcase would move and topple with him.
It would be much easier for him to sit on the case and for Evan to push it rather than risk people pushing into them. It let Chris rest too because they would be doing a lot of moving around before they got on the plane.
"Spin round, baby." Eddie murmured against (Y/n)'s ear and waited patiently until she unhooked herself from his arm and turned to the side.
He delved into her backpack and found the familiar green lanyard dotted with bright yellow sunflowers. Once he hooked it around his wrist, he noticed Evan grin and look in Chris's backpack for the matching lanyard.
Eddie slipped it around (Y/n)'s neck and kissed the junction just behind her ear which made her shiver. Neither he or Evan wanted anyone to start being rude or judgemental if (Y/n) had a meltdown or screamed or got overwhelmed. At least if she and Chris wore their lanyards, people would read that they were both autistic.
People could move out their way and know not to approach and ask if they were okay or if they needed help.
Evan had almost had a fit when one lady saw (Y/n) have a meltdown in public and she had the nerve to ask (Y/n) if the boys were trying to hurt her.
"You want these?" Eddie held out the small grey box that contained (Y/n)'s earphones. While Chris had noise-cancelling headphones in a bright shade of blue, (Y/n) had small grey earphones that looked like cordless music earphones. She didn't like the large headphones and if she wore these, no one noticed or stared.
And they didn't make her ears hurt like the headphones did. They felt comfortable and she could still hear people talking to her, it just sounded very soft and faraway.
(Y/n) nodded with a small smile and took the earphones, slipping them in her ears before she looked up at the doors in front of them.
She wanted to go on holiday.
She had never been away with the boys on holiday before. She hadn't been on holiday in a few years. It would be amazing to go away with her boys and spend time with them without either of them having to go on shift and leave (Y/n) worrying if they were okay or if they were going to get hurt. And they could all spend time with Chris together.
(Y/n) had been prepping herself for months to come on holiday, to be away from home where she felt safe. To be in a new environment, a new bed. With different smells and food and temperatures and new surroundings and no familiar places were she could go to if she felt uncomfortable.
It was just annoying that (Y/n) couldn't fast-forward through all the pain and panic of getting through customs, getting on the plane and through the long seven hour flight.
"Okay, off we go."
Reaching behind her, (Y/n) grabbed her suitcase in her left hand and curled her right hand back around Eddie's arm. She held him in a death grip, pressed her head onto his bicep and glued up against him as they started to walk. She felt better when Evan walked on her left side with his suitcase trailing behind him while he pushed Chris on his own suitcase in front of him.
When she looked at how busy it was, (Y/n) felt a shudder run down her spine and she adverted her eyes down to the floor.
Her thumbs moved to press against the knuckles of her index fingers and she bent her left wrist at a different angle to keep hold of her suitcase. The stim and the odd angle made her hand burn, but the sensation was somewhat familiar and it felt good. While her other fingers pierced into Eddie's arm.
She closed her eyes and tried to take deep breaths, letting Eddie steer her in the right direction.
Evan smiled when a quiet hum vibrated against (Y/n)'s lips and he turned to the right, looking down at her with a fondness burning in his eyes. His lips parted but he only smiled when (Y/n) leaned forward as they walked and every now and then, she tilted her head into Eddie's arm or clicked her tongue.
Those were all normal stims. She wasn't getting too overwhelmed, yet.
When they reached the queue for the baggage drop off, they got in line and Eddie turned his back towards Evan. "Grab the passports, would you?"
With Evan being a mix between disorganised and his own little organised chaos, he couldn't be in charge of tickets or passports or anything vital. He would put them somewhere safe and forget about them or lose them or have a fluster about them. (Y/n) was much the same, her autism kept her in strict routines and made her overly anxious about keeping things safe, whereas her ADHD made her lax about remembering to bring them or where she put them.
Eddie was the one out of the three of them with the least amount of panic and the most organisation skills. So he took control of booking the holiday, looking after the passports, tickets, flight information and his and Chris's wallets.
Although he didn't feel great about Evan being in control of his own wallet with the amount of times Evan seemed to lose it.
Evan dug all four passports out and handed them out between them as they all slowly shuffled along in line.
It didn't take long for them to get to the front and Eddie plastered a smile on his face as he put his bag on the scales and handed over his passport. He moved so Evan could do the same before Evan turned to (Y/n) and gently nudged her with his elbow.
"Baby, your bag."
(Y/n) shuffled forward and put her bag on the scale, shaking her hands at her sides while she waited to be handed back her passport and get her flight ticket. She handed her passport straight back to Eddie while Evan scooped Chris up off the suitcase.
"I don't think you class as baggage." He mumbled, keeping hold of Chris's hand while he handed over his bag.
He felt (Y/n) glue up against his back and when her hands found his hips, Evan smiled softly to himself. Although they both flinched when the woman practically threw all the cases onto the conveyer belt behind her. It was a good job they were going on holiday and not coming back. Any souvenirs they collected would have been broken by now.
(Y/n) refrained from rolling her eyes at the woman's callous nature and how she didn't seem to care she was throwing their personal belongings around like they were pillows or toys to be discarded.
"I had a box of cookies once that came back as crumbs." She murmured to herself, not realising how loud she spoke until she felt Evan belt out a laugh and look over his shoulder at her.
"Toy Story two, right?"
He got that reference quick.
Both boys were used to (Y/n) coming out with random phrases and one-liners that she had heard from movies and tv shows. Sometimes it was as a joke, sometimes she said them because they matched the situation and that was her way of starting a conversation or joining in.
But other times it was just (Y/n) doing echolalia. She couldn't help repeating things she had heard, mainly because of the way someone had spoke or the tone or accent they used. Whereas Chris had echolalia too but started up at night when he couldn't sleep or when he was over-excited.
"Where now?" Chris tugged on Evan's hand and grinned up at him. He hadn't been able to sleep last night, he was so excited to go away on holiday.
He shifted round so he was stood between Evan and (Y/n) and he held one of their hands each and swayed back and forth between them. It was enough to make (Y/n) smile and feel a bit calmer. She felt a little uneasy now she wasn't carrying her suitcase, it was almost as if she had forgotten something or left something behind.
But she felt better with Chris holding her hand and stealing her attention, taking her mind off her panic. And Eddie was gripping her right hand like it was his lifeline.
"Through customs, round that corner and up some stairs I think."
This was the part none of them liked.
All the hassle and faffing about just to prove they weren't trying to sneak anything illegal into the plane or taking a bomb on board with them. They knew it was necessary, but it was still a hassle, especially with how overwhelming it was.
The four of them climbed the stairs, making sure to go slow and stick together to keep out the way of everyone else. It was busier than they had hoped for. But then again, in a perfect situation, the airport would be empty and they could get through this all alone with no one else nearby.
"Let's go in this queue, it doesn't seem too long." Eddie held out his hands for Chris and held onto Chris's shoulders, moving the ten year old in front of him.
They stood single file together and Eddie smiled softly when he felt (Y/n)'s fingers tracing over his back. He wasn't sure what she was writing on his skin, but whatever it was felt very soft and lulling. Eddie always told (Y/n) she could stim or mess around on him, he had a thing for her tracing his tattoos and drawing with her finger like this because the sensation was something he enjoyed.
"Okay baby?" Evan leaned forward and looped his arms loosely around (Y/n)'s neck and kissed the side of her head.
He stooped over so his cheek was leant on the side of her temple and his chest pressed down into his shoulders. He didn't care if anyone stared, he knew attaching himself to (Y/n) like this would make her feel calmer. And he knew it was working when (Y/n) moved her free hand to grip his arm.
When they got close enough, Eddie shrugged off his backpack and put it in a plastic tub. He handed a tub to Chris and put them on the conveyer belt.
"Alright bud, anything electronic, take it out your bag and put it in a separate tub. Glasses and shoes off too, please."
Eddie stripped his own bag of his phone and charger, that was the only electronics he had. And he watched Chris take out his music and his noise-cancelling headphones, his phone and his Nintendo.
The ten year old did not look impressed to have to take off his glasses and his shoes, but when he looked over his shoulder, he realised Eddie wasn't exactly happy either. He watched his dad kick off his shoes and toss them in the box, and he smiled when Eddie whipped his belt through his trouser loops and tossed it in as well.
"Here we go." Evan murmured as he sorted out his bag into a plastic tub and watched (Y/n) do the same. Just as he removed his shoes and went to take his belt off, he paused when (Y/n) tapped his arm. She pointed to her ears. "No baby, they're plastic. You're fine."
Her earphones were completely plastic, she could keep them in as long as she liked, they wouldn't flag up when they went through the metal scanner.
Both Evan's hands moved to hold (Y/n)'s shoulders and he kissed the back of her head when they slowly followed after Eddie. Both of them leaned to the left and looked around Eddie when Chris suddenly squealed, but they could tell immediately it was a happy sound.
He'd gone through the metal scanner.
He clapped his hands and nodded his head while he walked through and turned to the side to wait for Eddie to go through.
(Y/n) shuffled forward, feeling very awkward in her socks against the laminate floor. She felt like a penguin on ice, about to slip and fall on her behind. But just as Eddie walked through the scanner, the one on their left in the next queue came to life.
Red lights beamed from every angle of the rectangle scanner that resembled a doorway and a high pitch whirring sound rung through the air. Someone walked through with something metal still on their person.
A scream tore through (Y/n)'s lips and she dropped down to her knees, reaching her hands up to dig her nails into Evan's wrists to make sure he didn't let go of her. Her eyes snapped closed and she pressed her chin down into her chest as she began to sway back and forth.
"Baby, baby it's okay." Evan crouched down behind her with his knees pressing comfortably into her hips, keeping her pinned between his legs. He smoothed his hands up and down her arms and pressed his lips to the side of her head to try and calm her down. The lights had already stopped flashing and the high-pitch alarm had been turned off. As long as no one else walked through with any metal, they would be alright.
His eyes darted up and he nodded at Eddie to carry on, (Y/n) would get up in a second. And he could see Eddie and Chris were re-packing his and (Y/n)'s bags so they didn't have to do it when they walked through.
"Excuse me, what is she doing?"
Evan sucked in a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder at the man behind him who was standing far too close and leering over his shoulder. What did he think she was doing? Praying for strength to get through the scanner? It was pretty clear to everyone else that the scanner had panicked her. Even the security guard wasn't saying or doing anything.
Both guards on either scanner just nodded at Evan with a smile and Evan figured they had either seen (Y/n)'s lanyard or Eddie had said something. They weren't forcing them to move, they knew (Y/n) would get up in a second when she was ready.
"If you can't wait one minute then go round us." He didn't bother to look behind him.
He didn't care whether the people behind them overtook them and went ahead through the scanner or not. If they were too rude and impatient to wait for a minute or two for someone with a disability then Evan couldn't be bothered to speak to them.
"Out. Out."
"Yeah, let's go then baby." Evan pecked her temple again when she let go of his wrist to point ahead. He moved his hands from her arms down to hold her hips and he gently pulled her up to her feet.
He didn't want to let go of (Y/n) but he had to so she could walk through the scanner first. He watched her carefully as she pinned her arms around her waist and started to nod her head back and forth as she hurried through the scanner. As soon as she was through, she barrelled into Eddie with her head on his shoulder and her arms bound around his torso.
"Alright, mi amor. All done." Eddie smiled softly and pecked her temple with his hand cupping the back of her neck.
Evan pinned his belt back through his trousers and shrugged his feet back into his shoes. He grabbed his bag and reached out for Chris's hand so the four of them could walk through and find their way to the right waiting bay.
As soon as they were in the right waiting bay, Eddie guided them over towards a row of seats near the window. It was somewhere out the way where they didn't have to sit too close to strangers and Chris could bide his time staring out the window and watching the planes take off and line up at the doors.
Both (Y/n) and Eddie sat down while Evan started to rummage through his bag, making sure everything was still there. And Chris knelt up on his seat and stared out the window with glee.
(Y/n) glanced over her shoulder and tried to smile at Chris. He looked very happy, in his element, watching the planes slowly turn around and line up with the correct gates. But watching the planes move only made (Y/n) feel uneasy. She didn't like them. She didn't want to go on a plane. They were cramped, there were too many strangers on board. There were uncertain possibilities.
It didn't feel safer being in a plane. Even though statistically speaking, planes were safer than cars, it did not feel that way and (Y/n) felt safer in a car. She had Eddie or Evan driving for a start, that was a sense of control no one had on the plane. They didn't know or trust the pilots.
Eddie leaned back in his seat and his lips curved into a sympathetic smile when (Y/n) dropped down to her knees in front of him.
Without saying anything, Eddie spread his knees apart to let (Y/n) wedge herself between his thighs. He liked the feeling of her fingers gliding up and down the back of his leg as she wrapped her right arm around his leg. Her cheek rested on his thigh and he moved his hands to her shoulders, squeezing gently as (Y/n) started to rock back and forth between his thighs.
He didn't care that a few people were now looking in his direction. If (Y/n) felt safer sitting on the floor like this and and wanted comfort, Eddie was more than happy to help her.
"Okay?" Eddie glanced over to the right and looked up at Evan.
He hadn't sat down yet. He was stood tall like an omen with his shoulders squared and his arms tense as he looked at the tickets pinned in each of their passports.
"I will be in a minute."
Eddie's eyes narrowed and he leaned over, unsure what Evan was referring to when he started pointing at the tickets. But then it dawned on him. The seat numbers didn't add up. None of them were sitting together.
Before Eddie could say anything, Evan swung his bag on his shoulder, clenched all the passports tightly in his hand and stormed over to the desk near the departure gate.
"Can I help you?"
A calm but somewhat tense smile flooded Evan's face and he folded his arms on the desk he was leaning over. He laid out the tickets for the lady to see and tried to hold his breath for a moment to stay calm. This wasn't her fault. She hadn't set this up, but she needed to rectify this.
There was no way in Hell (Y/n) would get on that plane if she was going to be sat next to strangers. Evan wouldn't cope well either sat next to someone he didn't know; he would end up babbling to them. And he wouldn't sit and worry about (Y/n) having a meltdown.
And they couldn't expect Chris to sit next to strangers and be parted from his family. At least one of them needed to be next to Chris.
"Hi, we're a family of four on this flight and none of us are sitting together. Can you change the seats please?"
"Oh… if you didn't choose your seats beforehand, the system just finds you any seat on the plane so we can get as many people on board-"
"Okay, I get that some people don't care where or who they sit with, but you need to check your notes. Two of the people in our group are autistic, if you sit my partner with strangers she will have a meltdown and that flight will not take off. And you can't seriously expect a ten year old to be calm and happy to sit alone, without a parent on a seven hour flight. Fix it please."
Evan wasn't here for a lecture.
He didn't care if everyone else thought it was normal for a flight to split families apart like this. Evan could understand if they were split so two were sitting together and another two were somewhere else on the plane. But doing this mismatched system practically split everyone up on the plane and no one booked a flight in order to sit with strangers and make friends.
And Evan and Eddie had booked this holiday. They made notes on their booking confirmations for everything that (Y/n) had autism and so did Chris. He was ten, they couldn't think it was normal to sit a ten year old with strangers on a long flight. What child would be happy with that?
This needed fixing or none of them were getting on that plane.
***
A soft grin spread across Evan's face the moment he lifted up the armrest that was pinned between his and (Y/n)'s seats. As soon as he flipped it up, he lifted his left arm when (Y/n) wriggled closer.
The seating arrangement had worked out rather well. After Evan had a slight argument with the receptionist, she changed the seats so Eddie and Chris were together, and (Y/n) and Evan were seated next to each other. It had worked out a lot better because their seats were all next to each other. There was just a two foot aisle separating Evan and Eddie's seats.
There were three sections of seats, all with three seats in each row.
And (Y/n) and Evan were the only ones in their little row meaning they had a spare seat next to them. (Y/n) didn't want to sit next to the window, she didn't want to see take off. If someone had been in the window seat, Evan would have sat in the middle so (Y/n) wasn't sitting next to a stranger. But since it was empty, it meant she could sit in the middle and feel safer.
She felt safe penned in the middle with room on her left and Evan on her right. And Evan could stretch his legs out in the aisle because he was too tall for the seats and his knees bumped into the chair in front.
"You okay?" He whispered softly against the top of (Y/n)'s head, rubbing his hand up and down her arm while he rested his head on his right hand.
"Hm." (Y/n) closed her eyes and nuzzled her face into Evan's chest. She had her right arm pinned around her chest and her left arm was wrapped around Evan's waist so she could glue herself as close to him as she could manage. It felt better to be sat in the middle seat because no one could see her.
No one could stare or whisper or roll their eyes when they saw her stimming or murmuring or watching Evan comfort her.
She was starting to feel a little drowsy, which was a good sign. Eddie had helped her take her meds as soon as they got in the waiting area. Now they should be taking effect and (Y/n) could hopefully fall asleep soon and this flight would pass her by quickly.
Evan looked to the right and his lips curved into a smirk behind his hand when he looked at his partner.
Eddie was sat on the end seat on the aisle which was so small the boys were both touching. He had Chris next to him in the middle seat and an elderly woman on the end next to Chris.
Eddie had both hands gripping the armrests and he was sat straight in his chair like he was made of wood. But it was the look of panic on his face that made Evan smile. Eddie was all smooth sailing and calm as ever until the plane was about to take off. Now his nerves were rattling him and making him feel almost as uneasy as (Y/n). Eddie didn't like take off, he felt okay once they were in the air.
"Oh Dios."
"You called?" Evan spoke quietly and looked across at Eddie who frowned and cracked one eye open to look over at him.
"What? You're God now, are you?" He hadn't realised he murmured that loud enough for Evan to hear. Eddie wasn't one to pray, no matter how devout his family had brought him up. But when he panicked, he always found himself muttering things to or about God, whether it was cursing or praying for a smooth flight like this.
"I am in the bedroom. Isn't that what you kept calling me-"
"Buck." Reaching across the aisle, Eddie slapped his hand against Evan's shoulder and gave him a certain look before he went back to gripping the arm rests again. He wasn't having that conversation now when everyone could hear them and more to the point, Chris might hear them.
He was happily stimming and waiting for take off, but he could still be listening in to his surroundings.
Evan pushed up straight in his seat, keeping one arm around (Y/n) who was quietly humming into his chest. While he reached his right hand out and held Eddie's wrist when the plane started to move.
He looked out the window for a few seconds. Evan rather liked watching the take off and landing. It always made him feel a rush of adrenaline when the runway disappeared and they could see the trees turn into clouds. And when the plane tilted from side to side it made Evan feel like he was on a rollercoaster.
He looked back towards the boys when he heard Chris begin to clap and a quiet but nevertheless excited squeal passed his lips. He was pushing back and forth in his seat and he kept sneaking glances out the window beside (Y/n).
Evan thought for a moment that Eddie was about to shake his touch off his wrist. But instead, Eddie slipped his wrist from Evan's grasp and moved to grip his hand tightly instead. He now had his eyes open but he was looking at Chris rather than staring out the window or looking at the seat in front of him.
Seeing Chris look so excited and happy made Eddie feel a little calmer.
He pulled Evan's hand close to his chest and held his breath when the plane rattled through some turbulence as they continued to ascend.
When (Y/n) sat forward and pulled off of Evan's chest, he removed his arm from her shoulders and switched to gently squeeze her thigh instead.
He observed the way she stayed hunched forward with her eyes closed and both her hands were stimming. Her thumbs were bent back and her index fingers were curled down into her palms. She was shaking her hands on her lap, but she didn't pull away from Evan's touch.
He figured it was better to leave her be for now, he stayed silent, one hand on each partner while he listened to the quiet murmurs of the other passengers. And Chris's excited squeals every now and then. He tilted his head back into the headrest and started humming quietly. He couldn't wait for the seatbelt sign to go off. He wanted the tension to ease and he could see whether (Y/n) wanted to read a book or if she wanted to watch a movie or listen to some music.
Evan wanted to look through the music and see what he could listen to. He already knew Chris would soon ask for his Nintendo out of his bag and Eddie would likely watch a movie.
A jolt surged through Eddie and he snapped his head to the left when he heard a loud thud and the sound of metal creaking.
His eyes widened and he gripped Evan's hand tightly when he realised it was (Y/n). She slammed herself back in her seat, causing it to push back and creak as her body surged forward from the force. He hoped for a few seconds that she was trying to stim, but when she screamed, Eddie winced and let go of Evan's hand.
She was getting upset.
Another quiet but shrill screech left her lips and she slammed herself back in her seat, more forcefully this time which made Evan jolt beside her.
"Baby, don't do that please, you'll hurt yourself. Sit forward." When she slammed back for a third time, Evan pressed his palm flat against her back between her shoulders. He leaned over her and pressed his lips against the back of her head, pressing her forward so she couldn't try and slam back again.
He didn't want her to hurt herself or for the chair to tilt back and have (Y/n) jolt back further than she expected. It wouldn't be a nice surprise for the people behind them if (Y/n)'s chair reclined and she slammed back against it.
"What's up, hm? What's wrong?" Evan spoke quietly against her temple and curved his arm around her back so he could rub his hand up and down her arm. He held his other hand out in front of her and was relieved when she clenched her fingers around his palm and started shaking it up and down to stim.
Eddie clicked his spine into place and managed a smile when Chris leaned on his arm and started humming. And when he glanced down the aisle, Eddie held his hand out towards the stewardess who was about to walk over. He shook his head with a smile, mumbling "We're fine," to which she nodded.
The flight attendants had all been lovely, indulging in Chris's hundred and one questions to which Evan kept adding in more questions too. And they had been more than understanding when they explained (Y/n) had autism and if she had a meltdown, she would be okay and they just needed to leave her be and let the boys look after her.
A deep breath sucked into Evan's lungs and he bit down on his lip when he leaned over to look down at (Y/n).
She had her eyes screwed shut, she was shaking his hand very, very harshly, but it was her stimming that concerned him. She was moving her jaw from side to side and opening her mouth wide like she needed her jaw to click. She wasn't making any noise or screaming or even clicking her tongue, she just kept moving her jaw in a wide circle and shook her head every other second.
"Is it your ears?"
When she gripped his hand tighter and pulled it into her chest, Evan knew he was right.
Her ears had popped and she didn't like the sensation.
"Okay, baby… stop trying to click your jaw, that won't help. Take a deep breath, really big, breathe through your mouth. You need the same pressure in your mouth as your ears so they level out."
Evan knew everyone's ears popped when the air pressure changed and if she didn't have enough air or the right pressure in her mouth, it would mess with the connecting tubes from her ears that went to her mouth. Popping her ears back to normal was something (Y/n) was going to have to keep doing for the duration of their flight and Evan knew she hated the sensation.
He watched her try and take long breaths that ended in panting when it didn't seem to work. Her eyes stayed screwed closed and she doubled over until her head was almost pressing into her knees.
She shook her hand free from his grip but Evan reacted quicker. He knew what she was going to do.
"No, no don't do that. Thank you." He confiscated both her hands and pinned them into his chest so she couldn't hit the chair in front. She would only hurt herself and Evan wouldn't let her do that. She could scratch or hit him if she wanted, it wouldn't hurt him and it would stop her from splitting her knuckles like he had seen her do before.
He felt her take a deep breath and she froze when he leaned over her and hooked an arm beneath her legs.
(Y/n) had no idea what he was doing and her attention shifted from her ears to focus on Evan when he lifted her legs and steered them towards the spare seat next to her. She let him lay her legs on the chair and she felt her heart flutter in her chest when Evan laid her on his lap. He kept hold of her hands and started to glide his other hand up and down her arm.
"Do you have her earbuds?"
"Yeah," Eddie rummaged around in his pocket for the noise-cancelling earbuds (Y/n) had taken out just before they got on the plane.
He handed them over to Evan who carefully helped put them in (Y/n)'s ears. Wearing them would soften the noises on the plane and it might just make (Y/n) forget about her ears popping.
As soon as the seatbelt sign flashed off, Evan unclipped both their belts so (Y/n) could wriggle around and get comfy. He began carding his fingers through her hair while he held his right arm out on his knees in front of (Y/n)'s eyesight. He knew she couldn't resist. A few seconds later, she had one hand gripping his wrist and the other hand was tracing one of his tattoos like she was drawing over it and colouring it in.
"There we go, good girl."
With any luck, (Y/n)'s tablets would kick in soon, the boys could both see she had felt drowsy when they got on the plane. If she started to fall asleep, the flight would be much easier for her and she wouldn't feel so panicked. Then when they landed, they would start their holiday.
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formosusiniquis · 2 months
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Am I the Asshole?
Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington; Robin Buckley/Original Female Character(s); Steve Harrington/Original Character(s); Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson WC: 6052 | Rated: T | Tags: Modern AU, Reddit AU, Some AITA typical terrible people, QPR Steve & Robin, NB Steve, NB Robin AKA the Stobin AITA fic
r/AmITheAssshole u/HufflepuffHero94 9yrs ago AITA for being concerned about my girlfriends living situation?
Context: My (20F) girlfriend (18F) is amazing. She's a polyglot linguistics major, speaks three languages fluently and she's completely self-taught, a genius basically. We go to the same college (Midwestern Liberal Arts college) where we met in the marching band. Now R, my girlfriend, is from a small town. Like the kind of small town that they make jokes about in sitcoms, she isn't really online (so I'm not worried about her seeing this) because she claims they didn't even have the internet until she was in high school. She isn’t really “out” because of this. It’s like she lives in this semi-closeted space like some kind of TV queerbait character. It's not really a problem, I mean she’ll tell people we’re dating if they ask and all of our marching band friends know but when I ask about it she says it’s because it wasn’t really safe in her hometown growing up. But it’s 2014 not 1980…
Even though R is a freshman she’s in special accommodations. Instead of living in the dorms like the school usually requires she’s got a small, studio apartment just off of campus. A perk considering how awful living in the dorms is. R is a pretty private person and super studious. Most of our dates have been in the library or a study date at the coffee place on campus. She’s not big on PDA, she says she’s trying to get better at it but she’s still only sort of out and I’m her first real girlfriend. I was psyched when she asked me if I wanted to go with her to her apartment to study, said her best friend had a never fail study method that she was eager to try (and when she told me what it was I was pretty eager too).
R can’t drive, so when I pull into the parking lot of her complex she notices something and says her roommate hasn’t left for work yet. I’m a little confused because like I said she lives in a studio apartment, but she just brushes it off and says something about asshole parents and this being what they could afford when some money fell through. She’s sent me snaps from her place, so I know it’s pretty cozy so I tell her it’s fine. Obviously I’m concerned about what the set up is going to be like when we get up there but she insists that dingus (her words) will only be there for another couple minutes before they have to leave for work and that Stevie (again her words) is her best friend in the world. They moved here together from the same small town or something.
To give R credit, she’s definitely done the best she can with the space. When I walked it it definitely felt as homey as it does in her pictures. The door opened up into the kitchen and living room and she’s got those spaces divided off from the beds with one of those Chinese paper divider thingies. Anyway to make a long story short it turns out her roommate and best friend Stevie is actually a whole dude (19). He comes out, gives her a look and asks her if “us girls are planning a sleepover” and if he should make himself scarce for the evening. R says she doesn’t give him shit when his “special friends” come over and after that I kinda stopped listening. I slipped off into the apartment looking for the bathroom and that’s when I saw how their “bedroom” was set up. Twin beds INCHES apart, they might as well be sharing the same one.
Here’s where I might be the asshole. When her “friend” finally cleared out I told her the truth. I didn’t know how comfortable I was hanging out in her place where she lives with a guy. I do live in the dorms but I’ve got a single right now. I asked her to move in with me so she wouldn’t have to be in this situation. I guess it maybe sounded like I was dissing her friend, which I was but I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I just think it’s weird that she won’t come out to anyone and is also living with some guy! I told her I wasn’t interested in being an experiment and if things were serious then she would want to move in with me.
That’s when she kicked me out and called me an asshole. But really I don’t think I’m being a dick for being concerned that she might just be jerking me along while she plays lesbian so she can tell her boyfriend about it at home. Even if nothing is going on I'm just worried that living in this kind of environment isn't safe for her. I mean this guy is probably just pretending to be her friend to get in her pants, I think the fact that they're from the same small town means she can't see that. I really think she would be better off if she moved into the dorms with me aita?
u/otpsnotbrotps NTA
u/foreplayisntreal NTA guys and girls can't be friends. If she even is a lez and a katy perry wannabe then roomie is just biding his time til she's ready to be converted
Read the rest on AO3
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