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queers-gambit · 4 months

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Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

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scenteddelusion5 · 1 month

Note

Hello there! I do hope you are doing well! I was wondering if I could request a Hazbin Hotel imagine with Alastor x reader? Maybe the reader works at the Hotel and has for some time but is missing her life back with the living, so she heads to the kitchen to make some comfort food. Reader is from the South like Louisiana or Mississippi and makes Jambalaya. As she is cooking and dancing around the kitchen, Alastor is drawn in by the familiar smells and sit down and lots of fluff ensues? Maybe they get together at the end? Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night! :)

One O'Clock Dinner

Alastor x homesick fem reader

Note: I decided to just have Y/n be from New Orleans as I'm not too familiar with United States' topography. Not my greatest work but still enjoyable!

Word count: 2174

Alastor definitely wasn't your ordinary demon. He was a ruthless overlord that concurred hell when he just arrived. His terrifying broadcasts were planted in almost everyone's memory, well except those that died when he had mysteriously disappeared. One of them was a certain demon from Louisiana.

Y/n had lived in New Orleans since she was a baby and never knew a different home until the day she died and was cast down to hell. She knew she wasn't the best person during her life but she wouldn't really consider herself so bad to be cast down to hell for eternity, a decade in purgatory maybe. Alas purgatory did not exist, so she was stuck there.

Until half a year after she arrived, she saw a news broadcast of Charlie Morningstar and her redemption program. Everyone had laughed at the princess but Y/n saw this as her chance. She made her way over and signed into the Happy Hotel.

Th Radio Demon knocked on the door only a few minutes after she had checked in.

"Alastor, darling, pleasure to be meeting you! Quite the pleasure!"

Y/n had heard whispers about him but nothing that went into detail, so she eavesdropping on Vaggie telling the story to Angel. The man seemed very dangerous. Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea after all.

"So we're is your hotel staff?"

Charlie had agreed to take Alastor's help and now he was going around the room seeing what everyone could do.

"What about you, dear?" He had seemingly teleported right in front of Y/n, startling her.

"I-" She stumbled over her words as the Radio Demon's big red eyes were right staring at her. "-I can cook, I guess."

"Wonderful! As for the rest, I suppose I can cash in a few favours." He proceeded to summon a cat, bat like demon who became the bartender and front desk personnel, and a small cyclops demon who would take care of all the cleaning.

As much as she started to enjoy being around these people, Y/n quickly became tired as she had never been able to rest easily after landing in hell.

Before she could leave, however, the wall was blown up. A zappelin floated high on the sky. The demon inside it challenged Alastor but was easily defeated by the overlord.

She stared at the left over rubble. "I'm going to bed." Y/n swiftly left and made her way upstairs to her room.

A week went by and everywhere she went, Y/n felled someone staring at her in the shadows. She wasn't sure who nor why they were interested in her. It was making her squeezy, so much so that every time someone tried to talk to her, she jumped.

"Sorry Angel, didn't see you there!"

"Nifty! Where did you come from?"

"Oh! Husk, right just Husk."

The worst time it happened she was walking up the stairs, looking over her shoulder to search for whomever was following her. Y/n walked right into someone and almost fell from the stairs. Luckily that person caught her.

"You ought to look where you're going darling!" The Radio Demon helped her up the rest of the staircase. "Can't have our staff get hurt, you would be difficult to replace!"

"I'm sure there are other demons in hell who can cook. Besides didn’t you cook the other day?" She asked.

"Well yes, but they wouldn't be half as interesting as you!" Alastor smiled.

When Alastor had first arrived he saw her sitting there. The demon didn't seem to recognize him, sitting in her own little world. He had to admit that the girl was attractive but that wasn't what irked him, no, there was something about her.

From that day on he started observing Y/n, trying to figure out what was so special about her. He had found out she just died half a year ago. He learned about her skills and hobby's, he also had to admit that her cooking was amazing. Maybe even better than his, maybe.

The only reason the Radio Demon had kept his cooking in higher regard was because hadn't tasted any of her southern Louisianan dishes.

Alastor was watching her form the other side of the room. Y/n looked around while walking up the stairs, when she slipped. He quickly moved through the shadows and caught the girl. Her wide eyes were looking up at him. The Radio Demon couldn't get enough of them. How he wished to steal those eyes... He swiftly said his goodbye and disappeared into his room.

Why did he do that? There was no reason to intervene, but he did like the feeling of holding them... Alastor started to scold himself. Perhaps he is just hungry? He hadn't eaten demon for quite some time.

That night he went out and hunted down his victim. The first floor was empty, everyone was asleep. Alastor brought his bag of 'groceries' to the kitchen. He grabbed the left-overs of that night's dinner and mixed in the fresh meat. The mixture of his favourite food and Y/n's cooking was heavenly.

Even when his hunger was satiated, Alastor couldn't stop thinking about her. Something was definitely wrong with him. He kept think about her, her stupid smile and her jokes. The Radio Demon hadn't actually held many conversations with the girl but he had stalked observed her enough to know what kind of person she is.

Alastor knew her and yet, he craved for more. To not only be around her but to make her smile, genuinely smile, and to understand her.

Another two weeks went by and the horrible feeling of being watched only got worse. Now the spectator was even following Y/n into her room. She became more and more reserved, didn't even introduce herself when sir Pentious joined the hotel. Y/n started crying herself to sleep at night, she wished she was still alive with her family. She missed them.

Unconsciously she made her way to the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge. She was craving the food from her home and by chance she had just the right ingredients. Y/n put on her apron.

The Radio Demon was pacing around the room. Y/n hadn't been her usual charming self for the past week. She was quiet and always looking around. It made his gut wrench, what could she be so hung up about that she was crying herself to sleep?

Alastor's curiosity had grown to an obsession and he knew it. He didn't just want her to be happy, he needed her to be happy. When she wasn't, he was restless.

As the Radio Demon was weighing his options, a familiar scent attacked his nostrils. It gave him a moment of peace. He made his way down the stairs, following the smell like he was in a trance.

Someone was singing in the kitchen. He opened the door to find Y/n cooking and swaying to her own tune. For the first time in two weeks, Y/n had a smile on her face.

"And what are you cooking up at one in the morning?" Alastor looked over her shoulder. "You should be getting your beaty sleep, darling."

"I was just really craving it," Y/n explained after she got over the scare of him standing there all of a sudden. "I wasn't able to sleep."

"What are you making?"

"Just some Jambalaya." She lifted up the lid to show him. "I'm also preparing beignet's."

Alastor looked at the dough, which were waiting for the oil to heat up. "Louisianan?"

"Yeah, I'm from New Orleans." She lifted up one of the beignets and dropped it in the pan. "Learned from the best chefs in the city." The dough slowly turned a darker brown.

"That's such a coincidence! I grew up in Orleans too!" He took another whiff of the Jambalaya. "Mind if I join you?"

"If you set the table."

"It's a deal, my dear!" Alastor joked, even getting a chuckle out of the girl. The sound shot straight to his heart. Oh, how he wished his microphone had recorded it.

When the Jambalaya and the beignets were ready, the two sat down and ate VERY late dinner, or rather early breakfast. It was a surprisingly domestic scene. The two went along well.

"Yeah, I grew up in the big city too. Back then it looked a lot different though. It was overrun by secret speakeasies those were the days." He mused over the past.

"I wouldn't be able to imagine for those being illegal! Hey, what did you do to get send to hell?" Y/n so daringly asked. "I heard you were pretty powerful ever since you first got here."

"Oh well," Alastor blushed like a high school girl telling someone about their embarrassing crush, "I was a serial killer. Ate up my victims and threw their leftovers in the bayou."

Y/n spat out her drink. "Wait!" She screamed while coughing. "You are THAT Alastor. They teach about you in history classes!"

"Do they now? I suppose I was quite the man."

"I wouldn't say that," Y/n mumbled, "But it is impressive how you climbed up the ranks here in hell. I almost feel safe sitting around you." She looked at Alastor's widening smile again. "Almost."

"Why wouldn't you feel safe my dear?" Alastor questioned. "The Hazbin Hotel had both me and the princess of hell protecting it."

"I might sound... Crazy, but I feel like someone has been watching me." She looked down, even though she didn't feel the eyes on her right now. "I haven't been doing too well because of it."

The reason she hadn't been her usual self was because he was freaking her out. It all clicked now for the Radio Demon.

"Well then I have to apologise." Alastor used his shadows to move right behind her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You see, I have been keeping an eye on you. It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable."

"You have been stalking me?"

"No, no my dear. Just... Observing," the Alastor corrected her.

"Tomato tomato." Y/n looked up into his terrifying, red eyes. "And why has the infamous Radio Demon been stalking me?"

"Observing!"

"Just answer the question."

"..." He sighed, "I'm not too sure either. The only way I could describe it is you interest me."

"Well, next time you can just knock on my door. I prefer not to be watched during my cry sessions."

"Oh, but I loved hearing you sing when you thought no one was there."

The two started laughing, treating the stalkerish behaviours of Alastor as a joke.

"No but really, stop. It's creepy!"

"If the lady demands it."

The night went on long after the dinner was over. In a moment of confidence, Y/n implied that she was interested in seeing his radio tower and Alastor happily brought her there. She shuttered walking up the stairs into the little booth.

"Take a seat." Alastor pulled back the chair and when she sat down, scooted it up to the desk.

He started to explain what all the buttons and switches where for and how the antenna's send out radio waves or whatever. Y/n was only listening to half of it. The other half of her attention on Alastor's face. She had never realised how handsome the deer demon truly was. And his voice was incredibly soothing, at least for those who weren't scared of him.

His big eyes were beautiful and his wide smile was incredibly charming. Y/n's eyes drifted up to his head. His ears looked soft and fluffy, she wondered if she would ever get the chance to touch them. The antlers sticking out of his hair gave him a more manly appearance, contrasting the cute ears.

Y/n started leaning into him, getting incredibly close to his face.

"And these make sure tha-" Alastor immediately stopped talking when he turned his head and realised how close the two really were.

His nose was touching hers and he could feel her breath. Alastor's heart started pounding harder and harder, a slightly red blush decorated his face matching his attire and his eyes stared right into hers. He could only think about how beautiful she was.

Unconsciously he moved closer and closer and so did she. Until their lips touched. Y/n took this chance to deepen the kiss.

It lasted only a minute but to the two of them it felt like forever. They wished to keep going, however, they were unable to keep in their breath for that long.

As they pulled apart from one another, the realisation dawned on them. It was quiet.

They went back to their own room, neither of them dared to say a word. Perhaps it was just a fluke or perhaps this would grow out into more. Whatever Y/n was going to do about it could wait for tomorrow, it was 3 am after all and she was tired.

For the first time in weeks, Y/n fell asleep with a smile.

Masterlist/request guidelines

#hazbin hotel #reader insert #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel requests #x reader #reader requests #alastor the radio demon #alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor

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thethingything · 3 months

Text

I would like a body that's less high maintenance and doesn't react badly to basically everything ever

#personal #thoughts #🍬 post #vent post #posts made on painkillers #I'd also like a body that looks and sounds like me #nothing like having multiple (mild) allergic reactions to stuff while also feeling really sick because we once again got ill with something #to make me suddenly really dysphoric and homesick #to be honest literally every medical issue we have does this but to varying degrees depending on the issue and how I'm already feeling #which like... we're chronically ill so I'm fucked #every time this shit happens it's like wow I miss my own body and not having to deal with any of this shit #it does not help that a bunch of us are suddenly dealing with source trauma and really bad homesickness all at the same time #desperately trying to work on our mental health while once again feeling even worse than usual physically #and suddenly having to deal with like 3 different people's source trauma making us feel like shit randomly

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mcflymemes · 6 months

Text

AS SAID BY DORIAN PAVUS * assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

i don't care what they think about me. i care what they think about us.

i like you. more than i should. more than might be wise.

discretion isn't your thing, is it?

all this dancing, politics, and murder makes me a bit homesick.

i suppose it really depends. how bad do you want to be?

living a lie... it festers inside of you, like poison.

i'm a man of many talents. what can i say?

the moment i saw you, i thought "there's a man who knows quality."

if you don't come through this, i swear i'll kill you.

i'm curious where this goes, you and i. we've had fun. perfectly reasonable to leave it here.

here is my proposal: we dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.

i tease you too much, i know.

i'll have to find something we can do that doesn't involve teasing.

time to drink myself into a stupor. it's been that sort of day.

i see you enjoy playing with fire.

i like playing hard to get.

i'm not suggesting we venture into mutual domesticity.

if it's a trap, we escape and kill everyone. you're good at that.

talk to me. let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.

oh, i'm not arguing. just pointing out the ridiculously obvious.

if you choose to leave your door unlocked like a savage, i may or may not come.

now... what was i talking about? ah, yes. me.

i am apparently an incredible ass at accepting gifts.

i prefer the company of men.

would you prefer me bound and leashed?

sometimes the ones you love are also the ones who disappoint you the most.

you are the man i love, [name]. nothing will truly keep us apart.

the things you ask are just... very personal.

sometimes... love isn't enough.

there will always be an "us." we'll just be... farther apart, for a time.

i had no idea something like you was possible.

i'm imagining what you would look like in a dress.

i've never seen you smile so much!

i have no idea what you're talking about.

you stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden with no thought save conquest.

you're shaping the world for good or ill. how could i aspire to do any less?

my footsies are freezing, thank you.

don't you ever bathe?

you're not suggesting we're similar.

watch where you're pointing that thing!

i'm not wearing a skirt.

it's significantly more impressive than hitting them with a sharp piece of metal.

i only meant to say i'm very sorry for your loss.

we can continue this dance forever, if you wish.

i'm saying we should be careful what we assume when it comes to such matters.

demons don't appreciate a man with good hair.

what i wouldn't give for some proper wine.

your outfit's entertaining. i'll give you that.

he had to leave early on account of assassination.

it's nice to know you have friends.

i'm here to do what is right.

come on, just answer the question.

they were asking me about you. personal things.

you said we'd be ass-deep in trouble. this is more like knee-high.

so what's your estimation? think we can win?

you can't call me pampered. nobody's peeled a grape for me in weeks.

you startled me. you're always so... nondescript.

you're a special and unique snowflake. live the dream.

i wanted to see you make flowers bloom with your song. just once.

you've done a lot less dancing naked in the moonlight than expected.

i've never seen anyone in this part of the world do it.

i realize there's more to you than that.

have i offended you?

for hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.

i can't figure you out, [name].

you don't play their stupid game, they send an assassin or three your way.

i can't believe you're scared of magic.

i'm going to take that as a compliment.

still don't like me, [name]? after all this time?

[name], i owe you an apology.

i suspect people will use any excuse to hate us.

why be ashamed? power should be respected, not swept under the carpet.

maybe you're not a complete moron.

i just need to know you're capable of higher thought. for my own comfort.

it would take work. and soap. lots and lots of soap.

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jo-harrington · 1 month

Text

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 2: Out of Character

Previous Chapter: Alternate Universe

Summary: Things are starting to get weird in Hawkins. Weird for Eddie, especially. (AKA Eddie Munson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week)

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Angst, mention of virginity, Smut (male masturbation), sexual fantasies, brief Breeding Kink mention (I SWEAR IT WILL MAKE SENSE bear with me), Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Lovesick Eddie, jealousy, satire, a Monkey’s Paw type situation, Cliffhanger, Meta Fiction, Eddie acts a little OOC—it’s in the title

Note: Hey everyone, we're back with hopefully some more regularly posted chapters now that my baby SMVerse is complete. Very sorry for how long this chapter is, the next one is admittedly planned to be shorter. There was just a lot of dough to knead here. Thank you to @dr-aculaaa @powderblueblood and @rosewaterandivy for their contribution to some details of the chapter. IYKYK. And they know. Especially how much it means to me.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

It goes without saying that your newfound independence had led to the most fun you’d ever had.

You weren’t afraid to be by yourself; on the contrary, it was almost like you were by yourself for the first time in your life.

That was the thing about living in a small town, everyone knew everyone else and your friends and neighbors always popped in unannounced, usually to a lot of fanfare and excitement.

There was never a dull moment with your friends.

But every aspect of your life in Port Geneva hinged around them, and now you could really focus on you. Realize that you were worth more than what you did to enrich someone else's life. Now you could enrich your own.

You listened to music you'd never heard before. What music had you even listened to before?

You ate foods you'd never eaten before. If you really thought about it, what had you ever eaten but short stacks with strawberries and sandwiches from the deli and cafeteria pizza?

You saw the world; sketched buildings and landscapes that were so different from the ones you were used to. Had you ever seen a house that didn't look like the ones in your cookie-cutter suburb? Or seen grass that wasn't perfectly manicured?

Who knew that wildflowers existed outside of storybooks?

Sometimes you stayed for a while; got a little room at a motel in a town that reminded you a lot of home and nothing like home at all. Too homesick to keep jumping around but not homesick enough to go back. You'd get a job for a few weeks--always lucking out on an opening for a waitressing or babysitting gig or something--pad your pockets, fall in love with the town and sometimes with the people there.

Then the need to leave simmered in your bones once again and you were forced back onto the road.

There was one town you were almost loath to leave. A midwest town and a goofy guy named Ed who made you laugh and called you sweetheart and kissed you shyly; he really understood you, understood the need to march to the beat of your own drum, because his big dream was to get out of his hometown too and make a name of himself.

Which is why he wasn't mad when it was time for you to go.

You'd always remember Stuckeyville.

But it was no matter; the world was yours for the taking. You'd keep going, on and on to the next destination, until you couldn't anymore.

Then one day, a year-or-so into your trip, it happened.

You'd been driving, thinking of the postcards that were burning a hole in your backpack to be sent back home. It was late, and you were tired and ready to make it to your next destination.

That's when you crashed.

December 1985

"Ed..."

"Hmmm?"

"I've gotta get up."

"Five more minutes."

"You're lying on my arm." He could feel the slight movement of something beneath him. "God, you and your big fat head, my hand is numb!"

Eddie groaned as you pushed at him and before long, your finger--cold and wet with spit--slid into his ear, rendering him fully awake and squirming to get away from you.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed as he hopped off his bed and tried to rid himself of the phantom feeling of your invasion. "Gah, ugh, gross!"

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do," you grinned and got up from the bed to stretch. You put your hands on your hips and glared at him playfully. "Especially when she's gonna be late. You should know how Bev is better than anybody."

Violation quickly forgotten, Eddie watched you run back and forth around his room; a satisfied feeling settled in his chest as you picked bits of clothing up to layer back on, fixed your hair, swept the fingers over the corners of your eyes to wipe the sleep from them as you got ready for your shift at the Hideout.

It was a feeling that he was quickly becoming addicted to.

How many weeks had you been dating now?

Not enough to satisfy his rapidly increasing dependence on you.

Dating.

You even called him your boyfriend. God it still seemed like such a dream to him. One he never wanted to wake up from. But it was real. You had dates and you took naps together and talked on the phone; sure it was just easier to cross Forest Hills and sit on one of your porches to chat until it was past midnight and you were dozing off, but as the cold weather rolled in, the phone was the easier bet.

Racked up a bit of a phone bill but who was he to complain?

He always paid Wayne back.

It was worth it.

More often than not he started the call with the obligatory “what are you wearing” despite having most likely seen you earlier in the night. But you, not one to leave a man hanging, would always come up with a comical response: astronaut suit, Princess Leia’s bikini and a clown nose, pajamas made out of the hide of Big Bird himself.

It was ridiculous and nothing less than Eddie expected from his favorite tv character and the one true love of his life.

Thankfully, the two of you decided that sickeningly sweet was not your style. Not like some couples. There was no you hang up first or schmoopsie pet names. More often than not he just called you sweetheart; it rolled off the tongue. And you? Called him your idiot.

Yours.

He'd worried with Paige once upon a time that he didn't know how to be someone's boyfriend. Turned out, he just had to find someone to be a friend first, then the rest just...fell into place.

And aside from some of the nerves he'd had when you first showed up in town, and the ever-present question of just how you came to be in Hawkins--

There was a knock on the door to his bedroom.

"'Right Ed, I'm heading off to work," Wayne said through the door.

"Wait up," you called out to him as you hopped to pull your boots on. "I'm about to leave too."

You stopped briefly to give Eddie a tender kiss, and he chased after you when you tried to pull away. His lips refused to part from yours, his hands found your waist to tug you closer, and his heart soared when you sighed and gave into him a little longer.

--Everything was perfect.

You gave him a dreamy smile when you pulled away, one that quickly turned into a feral grin.

"I'm gonna be late," you whispered conspiratorially. "And the old man is gonna question whether your innocence is still intact or not if we take any more time."

Eddie froze.

Well. Almost perfect.

You took the opportunity to stick your tongue out at him and reached up to honk the tip of his nose, before you bolted from the room to leave.

Once the door to the trailer slammed shut and Eddie was alone, he fell back onto the bed with his hands over his face; his head spun as he wondered how the fuck he'd gotten here. To this point. This moment in time.

Because somehow...some way...you thought he was still a virgin.

"Somehow," he grumbled to himself after a second. "You're the one who told her you were, you idiot!"

And he had.

It was a funny story; it always was with Eddie.

Except this was anything but funny.

It has been the third date and there was just…a natural progression of things on your sofa after a day out at StarCourt. Music was playing, hands were wandering; he’d gotten a bit excited and rocked his hips against you creating a delicious crescendo of moans from both of you.

Then for some reason, Eddie thought back to Port Geneva.

Besides a few sweet kisses you shared with douchebag Mark Fisher, you never engaged in any…physical show of affection. No one did, actually. There had never been anything heavier than hand holding and kissing—maybe the occasional make out—shown on screen. Which, in hindsight he should have rationalized as being obvious; it was a family show on television, after all.

Instead he’d opened his big mouth and asked “hang on, are you a virgin?”

Rather than answer, you got bashful all of a sudden; you turned the question back on him, stuttering all the while.

“Eddie…a-are you a-a virgin?”

What could he say looking into your big wide eyes and kiss-bruised lips, thinking you were nervous and wanting to fix his gaff—especially considering all the blood had rushed from his brain to his cock—but yes?

Next thing he knew you were cuddling him, coddling him, and telling him that you could proceed with whatever next step he wanted, whenever he was ready.

In that moment how could he admit that it was all a lie? That he was an idiot and a liar trying to make you feel better? That he was no bumbling, blushing virgin; he was only saying it because he thought you were.

He knew if he tried to backtrack, you’d either believe he was a jerk or that he tried to lie again to feel less embarrassed.

So he let it slide.

Whatever. Virginity was a bullshit concept anyway.

The truth would come out eventually. It just made everything a little more complicated in the mean time.

“As if everything isn’t complicated enough anyway,” Eddie huffed.

Speaking of complicated, between napping in your comfortable embrace, your kiss, and thinking of the events that led up to the unfortunate virginity confession, he was in a bit of a situation.

Stiff and aching in his jeans, he did what he always did: Eddie took care of himself.

He unbuckled his belt and quickly rid himself of the barriers of denim and flannel, then scrambled to find the bottle of lotion that he unceremoniously shoved into the drawer of the bedside table. Just like all of the other things he tried to hide whenever you came over.

Other things...including the poster of you that he'd cut out of the TV Guide.

There was a spark of desire in him—of need—at the sight of it. Of you.

"I shouldn't," he muttered as his fingers hovered at the edge of the drawer, ready to close it. He'd already found what he needed. Best just close the drawer and crank one out and be a happy camper til the next time the need arose.

"It's just...not right...right?" he tried to convince himself as you stared up at him from inside the drawer.

He weighed the pros and cons, tried to convince himself that it was a normal thing. How many other times had he jacked off to pictures in magazines, or crushes from school. Shit, he'd even done it to the fantasy of you.

But now you were real and his girlfriend. Wasn’t that some kind of moral dilemma?

On the other hand, he would just be using a picture of his girlfriend to get off. That was normal, right?

Except...well...it was you, but not you you. Rosemary Glass you. The real you just left for work. The you in real life and the you in the TV Guide were not the same. You were full of life and energy and affection and not an ultra posed picture on a page.

There was another beat of debate before Eddie made a decision.

"Fuck it," he groaned and grabbed the flimsy magazine page and then slammed the back of his hand against the drawer to shut it. If he spent any more time weighing the moral implications here, he'd lose out on the opportunity.

So, poster in one hand, lotion well-coating the other, Eddie immediately sought out his hard cock and groaned with the brief sense of relief.

"Yeah," he sighed. His tongue traced the seam of his lips and he locked eyes with yours in the poster. "That's it."

Internal debate forgotten, he lost himself to his imagination with every stroke and squeeze and twist.

You kissed on him and your hand replaced his. No, your mouth instead of your hand. His mouth on you? He knew what your mouth tasted like; what about the rest of you? It was a delicious fantasy to explore.

His eyes roamed over the dips and curves of your body; he focused on the way your legs looked in that skirt as he squeezed the base of his cock and moaned.

What he wouldn't give to rip that skirt off of you. No, wait. You deserved better than that. He would undress you carefully, show how much you meant to him, then skink into your warmth. How would you feel? Like Heaven, he was sure.

His hand moved faster now, his toes curled, as he imagined this scenario and that one. What if he fucked you in the backseat of your car? Or shit, what about if he bent you over it? Take a drive out to the quarry and have his way with you.

"Fuck, fuck," he groaned and stilled for a second, savoring the intense build of feelings, before he bucked up into his fist repeatedly. "Yeah sweetheart just like that."

He focused on that sly smile, that tilt of your head.

Would you smile up at him like that when he was buried deep inside you, finding all the ways he could make you whine and keen for him. Shit, finding all the ways he would whine for you, just like he was now. Would you ask him for more?

"I'll give it to you baby," he muttered and bit his lip as the wave of his pleasure began to crest. He closed his eyes again to savor it. Savor the fantasy of you there with him, rocking and riding the wave with him. He couldn't wait for the day. "All of it. Whatever you want. Whatever you need."

Would you let him cum inside? You'd beg for it. Beg for his cum.

"Yeah? You'd let me?" he asked breathlessly.

"Please, please," you'd whine.

"Uh-huh? Yeah?"

"Please." You'd scrunch your eyes tightly, pull him in as deep as he could go. "Put a baby inside of me Eddie."

Eddie's eyes shot open and he choked on air. He let go of the now-crumpled magazine and his throbbing cock with a shout.

Panic gripped him.

"W-what the fuck?" he panted, rapidly coming down from his high like a man plummeting to the earth with a parachute that simply wouldn't open. "What the fuck? Why?"

His mind raced.

How had he thought of that? Where did it come from? He wasn't...he didn't...he'd never fantasized about something like that before. With anyone. Ever. Not alone either. Shit, he'd even accidentally checked out a porno from Family Video once that had a pregnant...

"Blagh," he gagged at the memory and fully lost the edge of his erection. The need to come was now gone; in fact, he suddenly never wanted to come again. Not if it meant that he was going to think thoughts like that?

With intense clarity, he tried to retrace his metaphorical steps. Tried to remember what exactly got him to those thoughts, to that...well, he could hardly call it a fantasy now could he? Nightmare. But he simply couldn't fathom how it had cropped up.

"Fuck," he groaned and looked down at himself. At his softening cock slick with lotion, at the crumpled picture of you with the sparkling eyes and smile. And he was reminded of the moral dilemma that he'd encountered a short while ago.

"No," he shook his head. "Not her. Rosemary Glass. That's all it is. I just...fucked myself up fantasizing about Rosemary Glass and my mind punished me. Haha Eddie, jokes on you, got the girl of your dreams and you'd prefer a picture. That's it."

Yeah, that's all it was.

All it had to be.

Otherwise...what the fuck was wrong with him?

What the fuck was wrong with Eddie Munson?

That seemed to be the question of the day, every day, for the rest of the week.

Well, that was what everyone seemed to ask Eddie; friends, teachers, bullies. To Eddie, though, it seemed like everything else was wrong.

It all started in O'Donnell's history class the following day after the, uh...fantasy incident.

He was excited to show up to class.

No, that wasn't why things were wrong. He'd been passing History, working hard ever since that first study date, excited to show up and succeed and actually graduate. And that day they were due to get a test back, one that he actually studied and prepared for.

So yes, he was excited.

Imagine his surprise when Mrs. O'Donnell placed the packet face-down on his desk and shook her head at him.

"I don't know what went wrong here Edward," she tutted. "You were making some real improvements. Such a disappointment."

Eddie frowned as she walked away, and he quickly flipped his packet over to the oh-so-familiar sea of red pen scribbles and a big fat F at the top of the page.

Not just an F. A zero.

"What the fuck?" he whispered.

He might not have been a star student but he’s never outright tanked a test before. Especially not one he’s studied for.

He went over every question again and every answer, wracked his brain for the responses he knew to be true—he had several B’s and C’s on quizzes to prove it—and then read the wrong answers on the test for all of them. Written in his obvious chicken scratch with doodles in the margins just like he remembered drawing when he took the test. So it's not like someone just wrote his name on their test.

O’Donnell took pity on him at the end of class and said he could sit for the test again during his study hall, especially since he’d been making some improvement. He’d practically kissed her.

Only for him to fail again.

He burned with self-hatred at first, and then simply turned his rage on O'Donnell, because he knew all of the answers. She must have just been a picky grader.

That was it, right? She just had it in for him.

But then other things just got worse.

Jason Carver might have been a tool bag and an antagonistic bully but he’d never been outright hostile before. Not like some of his predecessors.

Not like Tommy…Tommy H.

On an unrelated note, that bothered Eddie too. He couldn’t remember Tommy’s last name. Tommy who bullied him and his friends viciously. Tommy H…Tommy Hayes? Tommy Hagan? Both existed in his mind. And yeah normally he wouldn't give a shit but what the hell? First the History test and now Tommy H?

Regardless, Jason had been especially brutal lately.

Overly antagonistic, even calling Edde a freak in the middle of class. He and the rest of the basketball team had even begun their physical assault on him and his friends openly. The jocks pushed them into lockers, spit on them, and threw things. Gareth even got a black eye when they "ran into" the jocks after gym on Thursday.

Eddie knew he wasn't well-liked, but it burned him deep inside that no one spoke up, students and teachers alike. It was all out in the open, where everyone could see or report to the faculty. Even his friends kept their mouths shut and endured the abuse.

No one seemed to be bothered though; they kept to the status quo. And Eddie wasn’t gonna try his luck with Higgins on his own.

Cowards.

Friday morning, Eddie thought he had the answer; Chrissy Cunningham—Queen of Hawkins High and Jason’s girlfriend—spoke to him in homeroom. Not only spoke to him, but made moon eyes at him in every class they shared and in the hall between the classes that they didn't.

And it was getting annoying.

“Dude, Chrissy keeps looking over here,” Jeff whispered at lunch.

“I know!” Eddie slammed his hands on the table, startling the others. He took a calming breath and repeated himself, softer, to Jeff.

“What’s her deal? Does she wanna join Hellfire or something?”

“I dunno man, something strange is happening,” he shook his head and picked at his food. “I don’t know if she’s in some…argument with Jason and is trying to make him jealous. Or if she’s just bored and is enjoying his torment of the village idiots or something.”

“Maybe she wants to buy some weed,” Gareth piped up. “Slumber party with the rest of the cheer squad. She is the Captain. It’s her job to score.”

“Nah man,” Dave chortled. “I think it’s more likely that she’s trying to score in a different way. Get Eddie to fall in love with her or something and make a fool out of him.”

The guys all started laughing and making kissy noises, much to Eddie’s growing annoyance. Every puckering noise grated something deep within him. And it only pissed him offs more when the freshman started to get in on the fun, with Mike and Lucas singing about Eddie and Chrissy sitting in a tree—

“K-I-S-S-I-N—”

“Shut up!” Eddie slammed his hands on the table and shouted, voice echoing across the cafeteria, practically silencing everyone at the intrusion.

His shoulders heaved as he glared over at the jock’s table, where a certain someone with a bouncing strawberry ponytail waved hello, even as she sat with her boyfriend’s arm comfortably around her. And said boyfriend was glaring knives at him; if looks could kill, Eddie would be done for.

His thoughts spiraled and his ears started to ring.

What the fuck was going on? Why was everyone trying to fuck with him now? Why was everything suddenly out of control in such a short period of time? Was this karma? He got one thing he desperately needed so everything else was going to shit?

Suddenly he had an out of body experience, or at least…that’s what it felt like. He watched it all happen, felt all the movements and the words fly out of his mouth but he wasn’t in control.

One moment he was sitting at the head of his table, hands tented in front of his face as he contemplated life, and the next he was standing. Standing on top of the table, actually, and while that wasn’t an unusual occurrence, it’s what he did up there that was.

“Hey Carver, you have a fucking problem with me?” He shouted, hands cupped around his mouth. “Why don’t you step into my office and file a complaint!”

His arms swept outwards of their own volition and he bowed over to gesture to the table and to his friends.

“Pretty sure my associates have a few choice words for you too.”

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck…

Jason was on his feet immediately, with Patrick and Andy quick to follow.

“What’s your damage freak?” He chuckled sardonically through gritted teeth. “Trying to have your own little David and Goliath moment? Prepare to get toppled.”

“Wait, do you think you’re David right now? You think you’re a hero?”Jeff scoffed and got to his feet, spurning the rest of Corroded Coffin to do the same, sending jeers and taunts across the room. The jocks did much of the same, name calling and shouting vicious threats.

“I’m gonna kick your ass Emerson!”

“Kick? How about kiss! Just like your mom likes to do!”

It kept going until Eddie took a few steps down the table, leant down, and scooped his fingers through Mike’s gloopy mashed potatoes, ready to fling a handful towards the enemies.

He was prepared for the worst as he witnessed it all from inside his own body, as he felt the gravy slip down his hand and into the sleeve of his jacket. An all out war, the need to protect his friends again—worse this time with the Freshman—the dread of listening to Gareth’s fingers breaking once more…it would all start once the first shot was fired.

If there was a God—or some fate writing this in the books of the universe who was just really bad at writing a fight sequence—now would be the time for them to make themselves known.

“Munson!”

Eddie inhaled the air greedily as he regained control of himself, and he marveled at Higgins' sudden appearance: standing in the doorway to the cafeteria with Coach Palmer and Nancy Wheeler standing behind him.

He’d never been so happy to see them in his life.

“Munson,” Higgins shouted at him. “Get down from there!”

Jeff, knowing what was good for them all, pulled Eddie down from the table and he stumbled on legs made weak from the rapid loss of adrenaline. Lucas passed a handful of paper napkins for him to clean off his hands as Higgins and Coach crossed the cafeteria, Coach to take care of his little minions, and Higgins to take care of him.

Despite their tenuous truce, Higgins grabbed Eddie by the arm and tugged him towards the cafeteria doors.

“Detention,” he hissed in Eddie’s face.

“My fucking pleasure,” Eddie replied desperately, suddenly a devout believer in whatever deity he had evoked.

Man, this was getting to be a habit.

As he was escorted out of the cafeteria, Eddie vaguely heard Dustin over the din of classmate whispers.

“Guys, that was weird. What’s wrong with Eddie?”

“What do you mean?” Gareth answered blithely. “He’s always like that.”

"I can't believe you got detention."

"I mean, Higgins could have expelled me. Or tried to get me to drop out again."

"I really fucking hate that guy," you muttered and reached out to grab a box from the shelf. "How about this one?"

"Seen it, fake blood is obviously fake."

"You're such a horror snob."

"Don't deny it," he whispered in your ear and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "That's your favorite thing about me."

You put the movie back on the shelf in a huff and then the two of you shuffled forward down the aisle.

Saturdays were made to be spent together; Saturday mornings specifically. Eddie would take as much time with you as he could, but Hawkins was Hawkins and there was only so much to do. So you designated Saturdays as mornings out before you went to work and Eddie made the rounds to whatever parties he could safely show his face at and make some quick cash.

You traded off on whoever made plans, and today he had pathetically suggested a movie, snacks, and cuddling on the couch, needing to find a respite in your arms after the abject chaos of his week.

He already felt worlds better, more like himself, because you listened and understood.

He ranted and cursed during the drive and you hung onto every word, only interjecting to offer gentle encouragement. You didn't pity him or blame him--well, you blamed him for almost starting a food fight and since he couldn't explain what overcame him in that moment, he accepted it--but you made sure he knew that you had been in his shoes and understood exactly how he felt.

His dependence on you made itself known when you got into the store. As much as you protested his arms latching around you immediately, he knew you secretly enjoyed the proximity and the sweetness that he lavished you with.

Hobbling down the aisles with him practically attached to you; whispered stories, jokes, and terms of endearment; and an occasional raspberry on your neck if and when you had differing opinions about a movie.

Eddie thought The Outsiders was a good movie. You preferred the book. Which was fine. You tried to tell him Rob Lowe was cute, though; that earned you some punishment.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you never had a crush on a celebrity," you snorted and squealed and tried to free yourself from his grasp. Which you did successfully as your words made him freeze. "Or like...a character from a tv show or something."

You didn't know how close to the truth you were.

He felt his world tilt on its axis as you kept browsing and spouting off names and laughing, and with each celebrity or character you named, the more he thought of Port Geneva with intense clarity.

He could hear the theme song, see the neon text of the closing card, and feel his heart skip a beat when you'd show up on screen and greet your friends "Hey guys!"

"Hey guys!" your same voice rang from the other side of the partition of tapes, same emphasis and volume and cheer as you would on tv, as you greeted Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington. "Are those new?"

"Mmhmm," Robin affirmed. "Technically they were supposed to go out yesterday for the weekend, but someone was too busy flirting with Melanie Hartford."

Steve's embarrassed trip-up over a response was overshadowed as you called out.

"Hey Eddie, come here, I think they're putting out some new movies."

Eddie took a breath to compose himself, carefully placed the mask of cool and adoring boyfriend back on, and then rounded the corner to join you.

"If it's Death Wish 3 on tape, it wasn't that goo--" Eddie trailed off as he stopped in his tracks.

He understood why Steve sounded so embarrassed.

Eddie mainly steered clear of Steve Harrington over the years; yeah he was a shithead and a bit of a bully, but especially since the Freshman insisted that Steve was a nice guy, he'd tried to put it all in the past. Best not think of King Steve and all of the opportunities and advantages that he'd gotten, no matter how good of a guy they claimed he was.

Knowing Harrington's reputation and then fall from grace over the past few months though, he wondered if Steve had ever had some unreciprocated crush before.

Because he was certainly acting like he had a crush in front of you.

A crush on you.

Eddie knew what it looked like when someone had a crush; shit, he'd felt that way plenty of times over the years. The shifting eyes, the nervous stuttering. He'd gotten pretty good at hiding it, being able to put on the cool guy front. But Steve was doing it all out in the open.

Steve watched as you and Robin passed tapes back and forth--watched you more than Robin, actually--threw a comment in every now and again. When he cracked a joke, his eyes slid directly to you, and when you laughed, he beamed brightly.

And Eddie didn't know what he was more grateful for: the fact that you seemed oblivious to it all, or that he was there to witness it and put an end to it.

He tamped down the fire that built up inside of him and closed the distance; he threw an arm over your shoulder with a cool greeting to Robin and Steve.

"I've never even heard of some of these movies, have you?" Robin asked with some bewilderment.

"I don't know, this one sounds familiar," you hummed thoughtfully.

"See that's what I told Rob," Steve interjected and Eddie grit his teeth.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Robin scoffed.

"Isn't this the girl from Legend?" You held up a video box to Eddie to show him. He couldn't be bothered to really notice the titles of the movies on display--Ferris Bueller's Day Off, The Lost Boys, Lethal Weapon--and instead he chose to press a kiss to the side of your head and continue glaring at Steve.

You turned back to Robin.

"Do you guys have Legend? I saw it when it came out but it'd be nice to see it again."

"I can show you!" Steve jumped at the chance, but Robin rolled her eyes and pushed him away.

"I've got this dingus," she waved at the tapes on the counter. "If you could finish processing these like you should've done yesterday?"

Steve huffed as you and Robin walked away, but Eddie stayed behind. He leaned over the counter, elbows resting against the edge.

"How've things been Harrington?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Uhh," Steve shrugged but pointedly ignored Eddie's eyes. "Good, fine."

"Did I overhear Buckley right? Going on dates? You finally over Nancy Wheeler," Eddie's voice got progressively louder.

"What the--listen keep your voice down, Jesus," Steve laughed nervously, gaze shifting in the direction that you and Robin had disappeared. "A guy's gotta move on. Can't be lovesick over Nance forever."

Eddie plastered a fake smile on his face and laughed heartily.

"Yeah? Gotta find someone else to obsess over?" The smile dropped almost immediately and he became dead-eyed. "Stop making goo-goo eyes at my girlfriend."

"Hey, Munson, I'm sorry--" Steve held his hands out innocently. "She just came in one day and I thought she was cute; I didn't know that you were--"

"I'm sorry," Eddie mimicked Steve, standing stiff and straight with shaking hands. "I didn't know the freak could have a girlfriend."

He reached across the counter and grabbed Steve by the vest and pulled him forward, close enough so he could get in his face.

"Don't look at her again, don't talk to her again," he hissed. "You can have literally any other girl in Hawkins, King Steve. So you better get over your crush fast."

Yeah, it was harsh, and in hindsight he should have been a little nicer about it. But after everything had compounded on him all week, it was nice to just be a raging asshole like everyone expected him to be.

Unfortunately, you had never experienced Eddie The Villain Munson.

"Eddie, what the hell!" you exclaimed as you appeared in his peripheral vision.

Until right that second.

"Let him go, what are you doing?" you rushed forward and slapped at his hands to get him to release Steve. He did, but continued to glare as he backed away and took several calming breaths.

"Hey, in all honesty," Robin laughed nervously as she returned to the counter. "Dudley Do-Right here probably said something dumb and deserved it."

"What's going on?" you ignored her and whispered to Eddie. "I thought we were just gonna have a relaxing day. You were fine two seconds ago. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he deflected. "Don't worry about it."

"We can just go home and hang out like you wanted; you said Wayne has some Bonanza reruns on tape. We can laugh at Hoss and Little Joe and--"

His eyes went wide; the Bonanza tapes were by the TV, mixed up with the Port Geneva tapes.

"No!" he shouted aggressively...defensively; it startled you. "No Bonanza!"

"Oh...kay."

Then your whole demeanor changed.

You crossed your arms in front of you and your eyes went cold and distant; you frowned, deep enough to create lines on your forehead and around your mouth. You suddenly looked a lot older than you were, aged by disappointment and...guilt maybe? He didn't know. He'd never seen you like that before, and he suddenly felt bad.

"Let's uhh...let's just go," you offered quickly, then apologized to Steve and Robin for taking their time.

"Hey wait, I'm sorry," he tried to apologize. "We can still get a movie and hang out. I just...I don't know...I fucked up. I'm sorry."

"No, I...I forgot Bev said she might need some extra help today. Making some changes, I don't know. I need to go in. It's my fault. I'm sorry."

"Sweetheart wait!" he called out as you walked out of the store and towards your car. He looked back at Robin and Steve, who pointedly avoided looking at him, and then huffed a sigh and followed you.

The ride back to Forest Hills was tense and silent.

Eddie knew he fucked up, knew he hurt you, but didn't know what to say or how to fix it.

"What the fuck is wrong with Eddie Munson?"

That was the question of the week, and now even Eddie was asking it of himself. Especially since he couldn't even control himself.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to you when you parked in front of his place. "I don't know...I'm just sorry."

"It's ok," you shook your head. "Seriously Eddie, don't worry about it. You just had a bad week. I need to go to work. We'll hang out another time."

"I'll call you tonight," he promised. "After work."

"Sure," you offered a tight-lipped smile. "Just rest today ok? And feel better."

"Yeah."

"Everything's gonna be ok."

"I know."

He leaned over and gave you a kiss and there was something about the way that you kissed him...that made his heart ache, and he didn't know why.

Eddie watched as you drove away, off to the Hideout to help Bev, or whatever else you could do if it ended up being a lie so you could just get away from him.

He'd fix it; he had to. He just got his wish, got you; he couldn't lose you. It would be the last straw.

He climbed up the porch steps, lost in his own thoughts, but when he opened the door--

"What the fuck?"

--all of his worries were forgotten, because the trailer was trashed.

Wayne was blissfully asleep on the fold-out bed, but there were piles of laundry on the couch, dirty dishes piled in the sink in the kitchen. Empty, crushed beer and soda cans littered the floor; honestly, there was just trash everywhere.

Eddie had only left an hour or two ago, and the trailer...well it might have had some clutter but at least it was tidy. It looked like an atomic bomb of trash had exploded in here.

If he had just been wondering what was wrong with him, he was suddenly wondering what was wrong with the universe again.

"What the fuck?"

The rest of the weekend had been spent cleaning.

Not tidying, literally cleaning.

He'd tried to ask Wayne about it all--maybe some weird trash bandit had come or kids trying to pull a prank, it wasn't like they really locked their doors--but what was even more suspicious was that Wayne didn't blink an eye at the mess.

"I work, you have school," he shook his head and tried to go back to sleep. "Chores pile up kid. That's the way it's always been. We'll get ahead of it again eventually."

And that just made Eddie feel bad; had it actually been this bad all along and he never realized it? Had Wayne done all this cleaning and housework on his own and now the weariness and the years just started to catch up? It must've only gotten worse now that Eddie lived with him.

So Eddie kept his head down and his mouth shut and tried to make it all better.

He cleaned and cleaned, and it seemed that no matter how much he cleaned, everything only got worse. The laundry on the sofa had been put away--more laundry than Eddie or Wayne really even had clothes to be honest. The fridge was somehow both empty--even though he'd just remembered to do a little grocery shopping...or had that been the other day--and full of rotten food at the same time. There was plenty of beer though. The dishes were all cleaned and spotless, only for him to come home from school on Monday afternoon to find them all to be right back again. Has they even used real dishes? Not that he could recall.

Fuck.

He complained to you on the phone late Saturday night--

"I don't know how it happened. It's like suddenly out of the blue it all just...appeared."

"Wayne didn't hold a secret party while we were out?" you asked, although your voice seemed stiff...distant.

"He just rolled right over and went back to sleep."

--but aside from some sympathy, you didn't seem to think anything was weird.

Hell, even his friends didn't seem suspicious.

"The trailer is always dirty," Gareth scoffed at practice on Monday night. "Like...no offense man, it's a trailer park, what do you expect."

It took everything in Eddie not to knock his buddy out right then and there; how many times had he told them how awful and stereotypical that kind of idea was. How hurtful people were when they found out he'd moved in with Wayne. Only for Gare to come back and spit it back at him again?

Instead he put that hateful energy into coming up with some kind of way to make you...forgive him...or love him again or something. He'd floated the idea of a ballad or some kind of love song to the guys at practice, ready to wow you on Tuesday night at the Hideout.

They hemmed and hawed but after he promised they'd all roll with advantage during the following Friday's session, they agreed and even suggested songs to get him back in your good graces.

Now it was Tuesday night. Time had passed by in a flash and he was standing at the door to the Hideout, ready to knock your socks off.

The guys were inside already, setting up, but he'd needed a moment to think of what to say to you.

He paced in the gravel, thought about his apology, thought about the song that he'd picked. The last song of the set, one he'd dedicate to you.

It would be perfect.

He mustered up the courage and walked inside, only to be hit by shock once again.

How many times could someone utter the words "what the fuck" in one week? Eddie had to be going for a world record.

When Eddie had suggested the Hideout when you mentioned looking for jobs, he'd warned you that Bev was a curmudgeon but the nicest curmudgeon you'd meet, and that the bar itself was, affectionately, a shithole. A house turned into a bar on the side of the highway, with a bunch of plywood in the corner that doubled as a stage, a makeshift bartop that was probably older than his uncle, and chipped glasses.

Now, it was almost...nice?

With an actual small, raised stage and a few spotlights hanging from the ceiling, neon signs boasting brands like Old Style and Coors--something Bev had always said was just the glitter and not the gold--and a sleek black bar with a marble top and comfortable-looking barstools. And it all had Eddie wondering if he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone.

That was it right? That had to be it. He'd stepped into the Twilight Zone the minute you'd showed up outside of his trailer and he hadn't returned to the real world since.

"Hey, there you are," you approached him from behind the bar with a tense smile. "The guys were wondering when you'd come in. I got them all cherry cokes to shut them up."

"You didn't have to buy them drinks," Eddie shook his head. "They don't deserve it."

"On the house," you reassured him.

"I'm sorry," he choked on air. "On the...on the house? On the house meaning...Bev's treating? Bev who must've secretly won the lottery or something? Look at all of this." He gestured around the bar and then lifted his feet. "The floors aren't even sticky."

"I told you that she was making changes," you shrugged, but refused to meet his eyes.

"Changes, not...a full renovation, wow." He looked around in awe, then squinted when he saw something on one of the tables. "She even sprung for printed napkins too."

"Yeah," you laughed nervously. "Guess she did. It's as much of a shock to me as it is to you. You, uh, better get the guys before they cause too much trouble."

"Yeah I should," he nodded slowly, but grabbed your wrist when you tried to walk away. "I know I've said it a million times sweetheart but I'm sorry I scared you."

"You didn't Ed, I promise," you tried to smile but it didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Can we talk maybe? After the set? Like really talk? I'll even wipe the tables off for you." You hesitated but nodded, and he gave you the briefest peck on the cheek before running down the back hallway to the little smokers exit to find the guys.

Only to find them in a legitimate green room in what he was sure used to be the storage room where Bev kept the kegs. His friends were all laid out along leather couches that sat along the perimeter of the room, sipping their cherry cokes and chatting. There was a coffee table right in the center laden with snacks and magazines.

"Man," he commented with a whistle, alerting the guys to his presence. "Can you guys believe this?"

"I know," Jeff giggled maniacally and then reached out to grab a bag of peanut M&M's. "Brand name snacks, and not the generic kind we usually get."

"Makes me feel like we're about to hit it big," Dave agreed.

Eddie tripped over his words for a second, not entirely sure that they were as astounded by the Hideout's transformation as he was, but he shook off the bewilderment to tell them it was time to go perform.

They raced back down the hall to the stage, and although the bar had just been empty when he walked in--save for you and some of the regulars slumped in their seats--there was definitely a crowd. Or the beginnings of one. A couple canoodling at a table, a few college-aged people ordering beers, and a group for a bachelorette party or something at the large booth that had been installed in the corner by the door.

"Wow," Eddie breathed out, nerves suddenly overtaking him. They'd never played a crowd like this before. "Hope they like metal."

And they did. They were head banging and once they were familiar enough with the lyrics a few people were singing along.

It was invigorating. Refreshing. Aside from the handful of people who'd been involved in the whole...record label fiasco, he'd really never experienced this many people who were excited for his sound. Their sound.

He wasn't gonna betray his friends, his band, like that again.

There were a few songs that Jeff and Gareth suggested that weren't originally on their setlist, and they really weren't metal technically, but they all knew the songs and the crowd was excited for them, so he couldn't complain.

Towards the end of the set, he felt his stomach churn with nerves again. Worse now, because it was time.

"Uh," he stepped up to the microphone, a little too close as it squeaked with feedback. "Hey guys, thanks for uh...thanks for coming out. Make sure you...tip your bartender...and her lovely assistant." He gestured over to you and a grumpy-looking Bev at the bar.

The audience clapped, even the handful of drunk regulars.

"Now uh, speaking of the lovely assistant, I...um..." he cleared his throat and looked down at his guitar. "I might have messed some stuff up with her the other day, and I know she's still a little mad at me. So sweetheart, without further ado, this one's for you. Corroded Coffin's rendition of..."

He paused. Froze.

The words were right on the tip of his tongue: All Through The Night.

They'd practiced it for hours, really making the cover theirs. They added all sorts of guitar riffs and a sick solo that ended with him sending a kiss across the bar to you. It was supposed to be perfect.

He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Corroded Coffin's All..." He shook, struggled to get the words out. "All...All My Only Dreams. Enjoy."

What the fuck? What the fuck?

He felt that out of body experience again, just like he had in the cafeteria, as his fingers plucked at the strings of his guitar and Gareth and Dave set a slow beat.

It felt like some bad knockoff song from the 60's. Maybe something he heard on one of his mom's records. But he couldn't place it.

What was this song? How did the guys know it? Why had he said that? What was All My Only Dreams?

It was certainly not metal. Certainly not music.

"Every night I pray, I'll have you here someday," he felt himself sing. "I'll count the stars tonight, and hope with all my might..."

He stared at you across the bar as the song continued, out of his control; the couple stood from their table and began swaying back and forth and you stood there behind the bar, wide-eyed with a hand covering your mouth. In shock or disbelief or pain he couldn't quite tell.

"Every waking hour it seems, I only have you in my dreams."

All he knew was, this song kept going and going and he couldn't stop it even if he wanted to. Couldn't stop himself from playing or singing, couldn't stop Jeff from harmonizing with him on certain verses.

Until the song was over.

"If I could have just one request, stay with me girl I'll confess, all my only dreams."

He strummed the last few notes, and as soon as the audience started clapping, he felt whatever puppet strings get cut, felt himself in control again.

Eddie panicked. He didn't even wait for the applause to be over, didn't thank the crowd like he usually would. He just swung the guitar over his shoulder and jumped off the stage with the guys hot on his heels.

"What's going on?" Gareth hollered after him.

"Yeah Ed, where are you going?" Jeff caught up to him and tried to put a hand out to stop him, but Eddie just shrugged him away.

"That was our best performance ever," Dave insisted. "And applause on an original song to boot."

Eddie froze as he reached the green room, and then turned on his friends, hackles raised.

"Original song." He parroted. "Original song? That wasn't an original song!"

"Yeah it was," Jeff nodded. "All My Only Dreams. You made us practice it all night last night so it was perfect."

"We practiced All Through the Night," he laughed dryly. "Are you high right now Jeff? Fuck, am I high right now?"

"Are you?" Gareth exclaimed. "Because I didn't just learn that song so you could make it up to your girlfriend just so you could act crazy like this man."

Jeff walked over to the pile of their stuff in the corner of the room, and fished a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of his backpack.

"Here I'll prove it to you," he grumbled and unfolded it. "All My Only Dreams. By Eddie Munson."

He shoved the paper into Eddie's hands and Eddie stared at it in disbelief. His handwriting, again, with words that he didn't remember writing. A little heart in the corner with your name scribbled inside of it, just like he did in his school notebook sometimes.

"What the fuck..." he muttered to himself, and then looked up at his friends, suddenly lightheaded and sick.

He felt angry, he felt like crying, he felt like...like everything in the world was turning upside down on him and it was some kind of cruel joke that everyone was in on but him.

He opened his mouth to start yelling, when your head appeared behind the guys.

"Hey, 'scuse me guys," you announced your presence and Dave, Jeff, and Gareth all parted so Eddie had a full view of you.

You looked just as sick as he felt. Your face was crumpled in a terrible pensive frown, hands wrung together in front of you.

"Can you give me and Eddie a few minutes alone? While you all break down your stuff?" you asked softly, and Eddie felt his heart drop into his stomach as the others left.

You closed the door to the green room behind you and then took a few deep breaths.

This was it.

You were gonna break up with him.

The universe was cruel to let Eddie have you, only to play these games and lose you in such a short amount of time.

He was so caught up in the panic of possibly losing you that he didn't notice you talking until you were right in front of him. Your hands cradled his face and you stared into his eyes, your own full of worry.

"Eddie, Eddie are you ok?" you asked, voice edged with panic.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat. "Yeah, sorry...I was..."

"It's ok, don't worry," you reassured him. "It's...fuck...it's ok."

"Did you like the song?" he questioned, dumbly.

You let out a snort of laughter and then squished his face between your hands for a second.

"We need to talk," you whispered. "It's gonna be a lot. And it's not gonna be easy to hear, and I know you're gonna have a lot of questions, and I don't...I...fuck Ed...I'm so sorry."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I..." You looked lost for a second. "Eddie, I don't know how to answer that question. No...not really."

"Not really isn't no."

"Alright smartass," you scoffed. "No, I'm not breaking up with you. But that doesn't mean...doesn't mean that this thing we've got going on now isn't over. It's...what I'm gonna tell you right now is gonna change everything."

You helped him to sit down on one of the leather couches and then you paced back and forth, nervously chewing your thumbnail and looking for a way to start.

"This..." you began tentatively. "This isn't...real."

"So I am dreaming," he looked around for a moment. "Makes sense."

"No...you're not dreaming. It's just...well, ok, Ed. It's gonna be really hard to understand. But I'm gonna need you to tap into that big imagination of yours. Ok? Because God damn, if there was anyone I could get to understand, it's honestly you. Making up all sorts of stories and fantasies for Dungeons and Dragons.

“I’m sure you’ve started noticing things happening? Weird things, uncanny things, impossible things. And it’s making you go a little cross-eyed, a little crazy, makes you feel like you’re losing your mind because the only person who notices the changes…well it’s you. But it isn’t only you.

"This..." you waved around. "It's all real. It's a real world and we live in it. I'm real, you're real. I can touch you, kiss you. But it isn't. Not really."

He suddenly felt like you were talking down to him, and felt that irrational anger start to build again. You’d made sense up to a point. This was real, but it wasn't real, but it was real enough so he could kiss you? But somehow not real enough because you were bringing up stories he created for DnD, like it was all part of his imagination. But somehow he was also crazy?

"What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

"Eddie," you took a breath and closed your eyes for a second. "This right now? Everything you see? This room, that song, me, and you?"

"Yeah."

"We're all fictional. We're all...in a fan fiction."

Next Chapter: Lore Dump

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger than (fan)fiction #stff #stff updates #stranger things fic

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