I Love When Ppl In The Eddie Fandom Try To Act Like They’re Hot Shit. Babe, You’re A Simp For A Fictional

Kuroo had imagined that if he ever had a meet-cute with his future girlfriend, it would be something out of a rom-com.

Maybe she’d bump into him in the hallway and drop her books, and their hands would brush as they both reached down. Maybe they’d get locked in the school’s storage closet and have no choice but to talk, discovering they had an undeniable connection. Maybe he’d do something particularly cool in front of her—like nail an impossible volleyball save—and she’d be so impressed that she’d fall for him on the spot.

You know, a great story to tell his future kids later on.

What he did not imagine was this.

He had barely settled into his seat in chemistry lab class when the teacher rattled off instructions about the elements they’d be working with today. Kuroo, who had only half-listened, glanced at the laminated periodic table on their lab station. There were a lot of elements, and he was already regretting not paying closer attention. With a sigh, he turned to the girl beside him.

“Hey, can you check which elements we’re supposed to—”

He paused.

For one, you looked a little startled, like you hadn’t expected him to speak to you so soon. Your lips parted slightly, and your fingers thrummed against the edge of the table, but you didn’t immediately respond. Kuroo furrowed his brows.

Maybe you didn’t hear him?

Before he could repeat himself, you blinked a few times and slowly turned to the periodic table. Your expression shifted into something that could only be described as deep concentration, like you were trying to decipher some ancient text rather than a chart of chemical elements.

Seconds passed.

Then a full minute.

Kuroo’s eyebrows inched up.

Still, no answer.

“Give me a second.”

Ah, there it was.

He could see your eyes darting over the periodic table, and every few moments, you squinted slightly, as if you were trying to bring the tiny printed words into focus. Another thirty seconds passed. He tilted his head, watching as you leaned forward a little, your eyes locked on the chart like your life depended on it.

You would probably set it on fire at this point from how intense you were looking.

“…You good?” he finally asked, unable to stop the curious edge in his voice.

You straightened up so fast it was like you had been caught doing something embarrassing. Which, judging by the way you suddenly looked anywhere but at him, you probably had.

“I, um—” You hesitated, biting your lip. Then, after what seemed to be an internal debate, you let out a small sigh. “I actually, uh, forgot my glasses at home.”

Oh.

Oh.

Kuroo blinked, his amusement only growing. That explained a lot.

“That bad, huh?” he asked, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his hand.

“Not terrible,” you muttered, though the way you still weren’t looking at him suggested otherwise. “I can still see—just not, you know, well.”

That made him chuckle.

“Well, that’s going to be a little problem, isn’t it?”

You let out a small, almost defeated laugh. “Probably.”

Kuroo grinned and turned his attention back to the chart, skimming for the elements the teacher had mentioned. “Alright, let’s see… We’ve got—” He rattled off a few element names and their symbols, glancing at you to make sure you were following along.

Then, as if remembering you had an actual task to contribute to, you quickly dropped your gaze back on the textbook for reference. “You don’t have to—”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he interrupted smoothly. “What were the elements again? Aluminum, zinc, and—what was the last one?”

Still looking a little overwhelmed by the sheer speed at which this whole interaction was happening, you answered, “Um. Magnesium.”

“Magnesium, got it.” Kuroo tapped the page, making sure you could at least see where he was pointing. “Here, let’s work on this together. I’ll read it out, and you can double-check if I’m not mistaken.”

You let out a small, barely-there laugh—so quiet that if Kuroo hadn’t been paying attention, he would’ve missed it. But he was paying attention.

He had been ever since you sat next to him, really. He realized that he paid attention to you more than the teacher himself.

Kuroo read the information to you, sometimes exaggerating just for fun—“And this here, my dear lab partner, is the majestic zinc, element number 30, the unsung hero of batteries everywhere”—which earned him an amused shake of your head. You weren’t exactly talkative, per se, but he caught glimpses of amusement in the way you entertained his nonsense.

This must be the manifestation of that one tweet he posted, “My future wife is probably fake laughing at her boyfriend’s lame jokes rn. Be patient, Queen; a true clown is on the way.”

Now that you weren’t caught off guard, you nodded along, quickly jotting things down in your notes. It was then that Kuroo realized something else.

You hadn’t even introduced yourselves.

“You know,” he said, smiling a little, “I think we skipped a step.”

You paused, looking at him curiously, then back at your worksheet. “What?”

“The whole name thing.” He tapped his pen against the worksheet. “I asked you to do something before I even said hi. That’s pretty rude, huh?”

For the first time since he spoke to you, you actually met his gaze. And then, to his surprise, you cracked a small smile.

“A little, yeah.”

Kuroo chuckled. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.”

You tilted your head slightly, and then, like you were amused at how backwards this whole conversation had gone, you finally replied, “[Last Name] [Name].”

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “And don’t worry—I’ll be your eyes for today. And for as long as you’d like.”

“Are you this flirty with every person you meet?”

“Only the ones that know their way around a calculator despite not even looking at it directly.”

You rolled your eyes at that, but he could see how his jokes were getting to you. By the time the teacher walked around to check your progress, Kuroo had already decided that this was way better than any cliché shoujo manga meet-cute.

Because really, what could be more romantic than offering to be someone’s eyes for the day—and maybe even for forever?

BONUS:

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

Started off as a little paragraph but ended with me rambling on a lot.

Thinking about Eddie finding a stray kitten on his way home from work, notices it wandering along the side of the road all by itself. He thinks back to the days of taking care of all the strays in the trailer park, including the raccoons. He makes the decision before he can even think about it, pulling his truck over. As soon as Eddie gets down on his knees, putting his hand out for the kitten to take a sniff, the little ball of fur kicks into a hissing attack.

So spicy

“I know I look a bit scary but I promise I won’t hurt you, little guy.”

Eddie takes his flannel off from around his waist, reaching a gentle hand out again hoping the little creature will deem him worthy to sniff.

He feels the wet nose touch the tips of his fingers, sniffing curiously with a watchful eye still on Eddie. But, it didn’t catch Eddie’s other hand coming from behind to cover it with the black and white flannel.

Gotcha

“You’re safe now.” He tries soothing the kitten as it hisses and screeches within the fabric, making his way back to his truck, thinking of what he’s gonna need to take care of the fur ball.

Thinking of how you’ll react.

He keeps the little bundle on his lap as he drives off toward the grocery store like planned. Conveniently sitting next to a pet store. His hand rubs between its little ears as it grumbles, not wanting to give into the scritches.

As Eddie grabbed all the necessities the kitten sat in the pouch of his black hoodie, still wrapped in the flannel with Eddie’s hand holding it in place. If Eddie’s fingers were subject to little love bites, he didn’t complain. Even if those little needles for teeth felt like knives slicing into his skin.

Walking through the door, Eddie drops his keys in the bowl by the door, kicks off his shoes and puts everything away before heading for the stairs.

He sets the little guy up in the bathroom, putting a gray fuzzy blanket down in the tub with a few toys. Two bowls with food and water are put down on the tiled floor. The kitten letting Eddie holding him as he gives the little guy a tour of the room.

“And we’ll put your litter box over here.”

This is only temporary until you get comfortable enough to explore.

He’s rambling on as the kitten stuffs its little head into the food bowl, munching away, and doesn’t hear as you come in the front door. Or when you climbed the stairs.

“You’re gonna love it here.”

“Babe, who are you talking to?”

Eddie had no intentions of keeping this a secret. He was an open book with you about everything. But, something deep inside of him told him he needed to hide the kitten, for fear that it would be taken away.

He quickly stuffs the kitten into his hoodie, out of your sight as you open the bathroom door, your eyes landing on Eddie sat on the bathroom floor with a guilty smile on his face as he greets you.

“Hi, sweetheart. How was work?”

He looked so sweet looking up at you, trying to change the subject, making himself seem even more suspicious.

“Whatcha doing in here?”

Eddie shrugs looking around, eyes going wide, realizing you can see everything.

“Just, bathroom stuff.” He chuckles nervously as the kitten starts to move around.

You kneel down, smiling at the man you’ve been in love with for years. The man who was so bad at keeping secrets.

“What kind of bathroom stuff, sweetness?”

His eyes bug out of his head as the kitten jumps, moving the fabric with it. You jump at the movement, looking at Eddie again, finding him whispering into the neck of his hoodie.

Be nice.

“Gonna show me what’s jumping around in there?” You laugh, knowing something like this was bound to happen because that’s just who Eddie is. Someone always wanting to help and take care of others who needed it most.

With a sigh, he pulls the disgruntled ball of fur from under his hoodie, holding it up between the two of you.

“This is Ghost. Our spicy little pepper.” He ends the introduction on a question, still thinking you may turn the stray away. Thinking you’ll tell him he can’t keep it.

Your smile said otherwise as you looked from the kitten still grumbling in Eddie’s hands to the man you could never say no to. Even if you wanted to.

“The more the merrier, right?”

Hi!!!

Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣

I’m down so bad for this man istg

ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.

Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.

He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”

“Won’t your boss get mad?”

“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.

Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”

Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.

“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.

Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one. 

He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl. 

“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.

Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”

“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”

Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”

“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”

The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.

“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.

Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh. 

As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.

You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender. 

The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.

“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.

“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”

Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”

Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Munson.”

Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.

You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you. 

Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.” 

He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.

“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”

Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.

“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.

“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”

He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.

“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.

The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.

“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”

He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.

He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.

“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”

Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.

Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually— that does make me feel a little better.”

You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.

older eddie wakes you up (fluff)

You’re in and out of sleep, when you feel the soft press of Eddie’s plump lips against your skin as the rasp of his low, smooth morning voice hums through your ears.

“Mornin’ baby. Gotta wake up.”

You press your face into your pillow, letting out a small whine when you realize you’d have to be leaving the warmth of his arms and the toasty bed.

“‘M sleepy,” you protest. 

“Mhm,” he responds, laying another kiss on your jaw. 

He moves to delicately place his palm underneath your cheek, guiding it back up from hiding to cradle half of your face. He lets out a small chuckle when your lips are squished and puckered from his little embrace, unable to resist the urge to peck them. 

“I know you are, sweet girl. But we gotta get goin’. Got a long drive ahead.” 

“Mmm. So cozy,” is all you answer, wiping at your eye.

The bed dips, and you feel the scruffy stubble of your man as he ignores your words and continues to press soft kisses to your cheek, slowly moving from your jaw to your ear. 

You do nothing but lay there and smile as he loves on you, hoping he forgets you both need to leave soon.

He drags his pillowy lips, letting them linger on your skin while tracing fingertips steadily through your scalp. You let out a small giggle when his stubble travels across your neck, prickling at you. “Tickles.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Mm - should get up, baby. Everything’s already in the car and ready to go. We can grab some coffee before heading out, stop for a little breakfast when we want to. That sound nice?”

“Mmm, I want hash browns…'n some waffles...eggs.”

You’re so endearing it’s not even funny, he thinks. 

“Whatever you want, baby.”

The bed shakes with another round of Eddie’s laughter, wheezing giggles shaking the bed with you lying beside him, trying your best to catch your breath and wipe the tears from your eyes.

Your hand finds his belly, still full from all the food you had at dinner, running your fingers through the dusting of just hair below his bellybutton.

“You gotta catch your breath, baby,” you smile as your hand makes its way to his chest, rubbing a soothing pattern there as your own heart swells over the pure joy painting his face.

And that laugh. Your favorite sound.

“I haven’t laughed that hard in a while,” he sighs happily, his hand rubbing his eyes before finding your hand, giving it a few squeezes before tilting his head to lean against yours.

“It feels so good,” words whispered so softly you almost don’t hear them.

Words holding so much weight.

You press a kiss to his chest with eyes closed, feeling the thumpthumpthump of his heart before snuggling even closer.

“I know.”

eddie randomly dropping compliments and sweet words every chance he gets.

“there’s my pretty girl,” he calls from the couch when you emerge from the bedroom yawning, in search of breakfast and a hug.

“look at my pretty baby,” he gruffs out, hands resting on your waist as you brush your teeth in the mirror.

“this is my gorgeous gorgeous girl,” he says proudly while introducing you to a friend.

“my little love dove,” he grins to himself when he sees your name appear on his phone screen.

“most beautiful angel in the whole world,” he whispers, kissing your cheek as you fall asleep on his chest.

Thinking about bringing Eddie to a park to get his energy out.

There’s a bunch of tiny children running around on the play set, and you’re watching Eddie skip two monkey bars at a time when a mom sidles up to you.

“Wow, you’re pretty young.”

Confused by her comment, you respond nonetheless, giving her a polite smile. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

She seems to want company, as she continues chatting. “Which one’s yours?”

Glancing to the side, you notice the encouraging smile she shoots you, waiting patiently for your answer. It takes you a second to understand to what she's referring, but once you realize, your eyebrows raise in recognition. "Oh, that one."

Following the direction of your point, her pleasant curiosity turns to abject horror as, for the first time, she seems to notice a grown man on the playground surrounded by a bunch of clapping children. An amused chuckle that sounds more like a nervous huff of breath leaves her as she gives you a strained smile before promptly grabbing her kid off the seesaw and hurrying away.

You watch her retreating figure as Eddie bounds up to you, excited to get your reaction. "Did you fuckin' see that? I crushed that! I told you I could still do two at a time."

Chuckling, you draw your attention away from the woman, instead meeting his sparkling eyes. "I stand corrected. You'll get your five dollars when I get paid this Friday."

Waving you off, he shakes his head. "Oh, please, keep it. I'd just spend it on you anyway. I really just did this for the love of the game."

"And the game is...?"

Eddie leans into your face, a wide grin spread across his features. "Provin' you wrong."

"Ha ha," you deadpan. "We better leave, though. I'm pretty sure there's gonna be a bad police sketch of you on the news tomorrow."

Having seen the woman grab her child and hurry off, Eddie can assume what caused that reaction. Shrugging, he holds his arm out for you to loop yours through, his other hand fluffing his curls. "As long as they make my hair look good, I'm chillin'."

Masterlist

Eddie proudly sporting a bib when you go for a seafood dinner. He sweetly asks if you can tie his hair back before the food arrives, not wanting to risk any getting in the way of his meal.

-

“Babe, I’m stuffed,” he groans, leaning back into the soft chair, rubbing his tummy with a messy & lopsided bib hanging from his neck. Eddie had devoured his meal with a grin, and you couldn’t help but find him adorable.

A few minutes go by of him moaning and groaning about how full he is, when you catch him looking at your plate, and then up at you, “you uh…gonna finish that crab leg?”

“I thought you were stuffed?”

“Sweetheart, that was like five whole minutes ago.”

Weapon u3u.

Tangled Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie gets a comb stuck in his hair. Evil Woman untangles it, and a little bit of his tragic backstory comes out with it. Contains: A minor tantrum, a sad Eddie, a little hair lore, and our boy being loved and taken care of. Words: 1.2k Note: This takes place during their first winter together.

"FUCK!"

A loud clatter follows the yell from behind the closed bathroom door, making you jump from your position on the Munson's couch.

You're sitting there in borrowed sweats, watching a Mork & Mindy rerun while you wait for Eddie. You'd spent most of the day playing in the snow with the neighborhood kids, and had both required about a gallon of hot chocolate and a warm shower to recover. The girls had won the final snowball fight, which meant you earned the first shower. (He probably would've let you go first even the boys had won, but you're counting it as a victory shower anyway.)

When you don't hear anything else, you rise and slowly approach the bathroom door. Silence. You knock lightly. "Eddie? You okay?"

The door slowly creaks open, revealing a pair of worn burgundy sweats, a faded Hellfire Club shirt, half of a black comb stuck in a tangle of matted hair, and the most pathetic puppy eyes you've ever seen.

"You okay?" you ask again.

"Comb got stuck," he says miserably.

"Want me to get it out?"

Eddie squirms, looking like he wants to wash himself down the drain. He turns toward the mirror and gives another feeble attempt at getting the comb out. You lean against the doorframe, waiting for him to ask for help, and your eyes drift to the bathtub. All of the bottles that usually sit on the ledge are scattered across the bottom of the tub. He must've thrown something and knocked them all down. Maybe you should take him bowling sometime.

Eddie sighs, releases the comb, and hangs his head in defeat. Looking at the floor, he turns to you and nods his head slowly.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assure him, as quietly as you can. "C'mon." You tilt your head toward the living room and start walking, hoping he'll follow.

You slide the coffee table to the side, drop a pillow on the floor for him to sit on, and take your seat on the couch. You gesture for him to sit between your legs. He does, reluctantly. You want so badly to know what's actually wrong, you feel like you may burst… but you know better than to ask.

You reach for the comb embedded in his wet hair without a word, and he flinches. You rest your hands on your knees instead.

You play with his hair all the time. When you watch movies, his head often ends up on your lap, and your hands gravitate to it. He gets the cutest little smile on his face when you tuck his hair behind his ear. You know for a fact that rubbing light circles on That One Spot on his scalp will put him right to sleep. Why is this different?

"You okay?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"You know I'm gonna try my very best not to hurt you, right?"

"Yeah." His voice is hollow. Emotionless.

You carefully reach for the mass of tangles and the buried comb again. He tenses, but doesn't flinch. You begin working it out, piece by piece, taking your time and focusing all your energy on keeping it painless while the laugh track on TV keeps the room from falling into awkward silence.

When you finally get the comb out, you set it aside and reach for your own brush. Starting at the ends, you gently work out all the rest of Eddie's tangles. The whole process takes nearly an hour, and he doesn't move a muscle the whole time.

"Alright, you're done," you finally declare, setting your brush aside. He heaves a sigh of relief, and you lean down to kiss the top of his head.

He turns sideways and rests his chin on your knee. You cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb across his flushed cheek, and he closes his eyes. Just when you think he's fallen asleep, he heaves another sigh and starts talking.

"My mom used to brush my hair when I was little. Her brush had those hard, scratchy bristles that felt like wire." He swallows, but still doesn't open his eyes. "My hair wasn't this long, but I used to play outside all day. To get away from them, mostly. But when I came home at dark, she'd make me stand in front of her in the kitchen so she could brush it. She'd yank and pull at it and brush my neck and my ears and my forehead. I think it actually drew blood once or twice. If I moved or complained, she'd put me over her knee and use the other side."

You didn't realize your hand had stopped stroking his cheek until he stopped talking. You move it to his shoulder, still a little damp from his hair, and give him a light squeeze.

"One day, after she died, I went in the bathroom with scissors I stole from school and cut it all off. Well, I tried. They were dull and kid-sized. Dad laughed at me when he saw it. Made me go to school like that. The nurse finally took pity on me and evened it out after a few days."

He crawls onto the couch and lays his head on your lap, facing the TV. Normally in this position, your hands would be in his hair immediately, but today… you hesitate. Although he can't see you do it, he must sense it. He puts his hand on your knee, palm up. You take it, and place your other hand on his arm in a gesture you hope is comforting.

"When I came to live with Wayne, he'd give us both a buzz cut on the first of every month. The noise from the clippers scared the shit out of me at first, but after watching him do his own a few times, I finally let him do mine. I didn't start growing it out again 'til the summer I graduated from middle school. That's when I decided nobody was gonna fuck with it. And nobody was gonna fuck with me."

He lets go of your hand and flips onto his back, staring up at you.

"Kay, that's the whole traumatic hair story you didn't ask for."

You smile and reach for his hand again.

"It doesn't bother you when I play with it?"

"Not gonna lie… scared the hell out of me the first time," he chuckles. "Usually, when a girl goes for the hair, it's to pull it or stick something in it. One time, a girl dragged me across the playground with it. But you? Just started twirling it and playing with it and putting me to sleep. Didn't ever want you to stop. Couldn't fucking believe it."

You feel your heart warm at his confession, and finally let your hand return to that beautiful head of hair. Your fingers lightly work at his scalp, and he smiles sleepily up at you.

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?" You know he knows, but you need him to hear it. "Unless it's like… in a kinky way that you specifically request."

"I'll keep that in mind," he smirks.