dating eddie includes silly, inescapable bits that can be annoying (that secretly you love, and will die before admitting that to him).
bit one, his all time favourite; the medieval dispute summoner. he will instigate silly nonsensical arguments with you, and his friends and will do it all in medieval dialect. "hear ye, sir gareth hath committed treason against the realm..." → gareth literally just sat down, and has yet to say a word to eddie. and because you're all nerds, everyone is immediately on gareth, "treason?!" "name thy crime!" "to the dungeons!" and eddie just sits back like a king on his throne watching the chaos unfold like he didn't make it all up.
bit two; the victorian escort. eddie will offer you his elbow, with a dramatic, yet serious; "lady/lord ____, the corridor is perilous," to which if you're in the mood for it (lets be honest, you are) "indeed, sir edward. guard me from the riffraff," bonus: anyone who gets too close, eddie will glare at like they're commoners.
bit three; i am your lawyer. whenever you say something even mildly incriminating, eddie will jump to your defense like your lawyer.
you: i might bite her
eddie: my client has never bitten anyone, ever. this is hearsay.
or
you: i'm going to kill him
eddie: allegedly
bit four; the dramatic witness. eddie will dramatically narrate things like he's in a nature documentary, or a witness in court on the stand. "behold; my lovely partner, reading peacefully on the couch, blissfully unaware they're about to be attacked—" "eds, i can hear you."
bit five; the tortured poet. he will drop onto furniture with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead like a fainting victorian worman and announce the most dramatic, unserious suffering. "i am but a wounded creature" or "no one understands my delicate soul" meanwhile he's likely just upset someone ate his snacks.
lavender earl grey iced coffee for two. ★ bf!dean winchester
MASTERLIST
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dean winchester who makes fun of you for liking sweet coffee, and flavoured iced coffee would 100% end up pretending he hates your coffee only for you to have your drink consistently stolen to the point that you just start making two.
"you like that shit?" he grumbles over his hot black coffee, nose turned up.
"it's good, just try it." you'd say offering him the straw.
rolling his eyes, he takes a sip, swallows, looks at you with an unreadable expression and then goes in for a second sip.
your face lights up, "you like it!"
"i didn't say that."
"you took a second sip, dean."
"yeah, 'cause i had to make sure it was as gross as i'd thought initially."
"yeah, okay. sure," you laugh, setting your cup down on the table, leaning over to kiss his cheek, before going to the bathroom.
when you return, he's drank the whole thing, and will not look at you.
"gross, was it?" you tease, and he grunts, still not look up at you.
you smile, and take the empty cup back to the kitchenette, and begin making another one. then you feel his arms wrap around your middle, his chin settling on your shoulder, watching how you make the drink.
"do you want another one?" you ask softly, and he nods, making you giggle.
A/N — i just wanna say a quick thank you to everyone who liked my other eddie headcanons post, i wasn't expecting all the love, but i appreciate it immensely :))
MASTERLIST
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when he likes someone, he thinks he's being really subtle, but he's not
him, a stuttering, nervous wreck; "uh hey, cool shirt"
you, deadpan; "it's your shirt, that you gave me to wear, because you thought i'd look cute in it"
always tries to impress you in silly ways
"wanna see how fast i can run?"
"bet i can jump and hit that sign without running"
"i caught you a squirrel because you said they were cute that one time"
is touch starved
as such, he will always be touching you in some capacity; hand on your knee while in class, hand on your thigh or fingers interlaced with yours while driving, he will sit on you if there's nowhere for him.
when you hug him, kiss him, or cuddle with him he will hold on and refuse to let you go until you're late, like really late, you'd have to leave ten minutes ago late.
is big on pet names when you're alone, but mostly calls you by your last name or a shortened version of your name when in public
he's big on baby, sweetheart, dollface.
angel and prince/princess are reserved for when he's fucked up royally, or you're sad or sleepy.
will touch everything you own
perfume/cologne sitting on your dresser? sprayed himself in the face with it the first time he picked it up, but really liked how it smelled so he puts a spitz on every time you leave him alone in your room. just spent the day at the pool and he needs to shower at yours? he will use your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion and even your deodorant "do you want me to stink? :(". every time he comes in he finds something new to play with. old stuffie under your bed? he's carrying it around/hugging it/holding it until he leaves. trinkets on the top of your bed frame? he'll make them talk to each other when he's bored.
has a hard time sleeping when you're not close
he and sleep have rarely ever been on the same page, so he finds things to do to occupy his time, so when he's in a relationship that usually means he's dragging you along with him; be it going for a swim at 2am at lovers lake, a quick trip to the gas for snacks, or just straight up falling ungracefully through your window and crawling into bed with you to try and grab a couple hours of sleep (while simultaneously scaring the shit out of you because you were already sleeping).
because of the above, he will constantly nap around you while you're hanging out
you're his safe space, he spends most of his time in your presence passed out; laying on his back on the floor with his legs tossed over the side of your bed with his feet tucked under your thigh while you study, arms crossed over his chest while you're head's in his lap as you read out loud to him – he swears he's awake but every so often he lets out a soft snore, sitting on the couch watching a romcom with his head on your shoulder as he struggles to keep his eyes open, literally any time you touch his head/hair he's out like a light.
100% is glued to your side and tells everyone you're his best friend as well as his gf/bf
he goes on errands with you and spends 99% of his free time with you, he drags you along to band practice — which you usually use as an opportunity to feed baked goods to his bandmates (who absolutely adore you for it), when he's working you usually sit around with him passing him tools as he needs them — "uh need 9/16 wrench–" and it's already in your hand like you read his mind.
when you're not around, brags about you to anyone who will listen to him, and carries a picture (that he switches out for newer ones he takes) of you in his wallet that he shows off constantly — "look how cute they are" "my girlfriend/boyfriend is hotter".
writes songs about you
sometimes he'll write them just for himself, or for your ears only recording them on a tape just for you to have a reminder of how much he loves you.
you better believe that wayne loves you for being a good influence on him
you make him eat all breakfast, lunch & dinner — before you he would forget to eat and usually pumped himself full of caffeine only, you get him a reuseable water bottle (which you bribe him to carry it around and actually drink from it) — to his credit he now drinks at least one full bottle, you make him wear sunscreen & a hat on sunny days, waterproof footwear and jacket on rainy/snowy days (he's shocked when he doesn't get sick as often).
at first wayne was wary of you, unsure of whether your intentions were genuine or if you were going to pull one over on eddie — which disappeared the first time he came home from work and saw you too cuddled up on the couch watching one of eddie's favourite movies (it was the way you were staring at him as he shared his favourite parts or something he read about it, or a fact about the filming/production — wayne tells this story at your wedding all teary eyed about his eddie being all grown up and so very obviously loved).
takes photos of you all the time
cutesy date night photos, spicy half-naked photos (or just straight up naked naked), you sleeping, you making an ugly face, you mid-sneeze, you smiling, he has it all caught on film and he loves each and every photo so much.
total softie for you and you alone
you've gotten him to do things he's straight up refused to do for his friends, and even wayne
does literally anything you ask, and even sometimes you don't have to ask, he just does it because he knows it'll make you happy and that's all he strives for, you being happy.
SUMMARY — loosely inspired by the song cheyenne by ian munsick. every year he never asks anything from you, resigned to the routine you've created; you pull into the yellowstone, park your trailer, and spend all your time with him, and then when august rolls around you pack it all in, and leave. this year, instead of dancing around the heartache, he [and a few others] ask you to stay.
PAIRING — fem!reader x lee dutton
WORD COUNT — 4.1k
WARNINGS — established friends with benefits type relationship, lee has been in love with reader since they met, pinning, allusions to smut, lee watches reader get dressed – reader puts on a show, no use of y/n — everyone calls her honey as a nickname, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of murder (not overly graphic), mentions of past abuse, angst
MASTERLIST
you put your truck in park, tucked along the side of the house like you always do. you open the trailer up, lead you horse peaches out into the fenced off area out front, and then wander up the front steps and into the house. you kick off your boots, and pad through the hallway, taking in the view from the living room windows. you enter the open concept kitchen, grabbing a beer and setting to work on tidying up. you start with the dishes, there aren't as many as there were last time.
next, you sweep, the build up of dirt he's tracked into the house has you frowning. after, you throw laundry in — your own clothes first of course. next is vacuuming, followed by grabbing the load of groceries from your cold box in your truck. lastly, you step into the shower, watching the setting sun as you deep condition your hair and shave your legs. when you wrap yourself in your towel you hear the front door open, a pair of boots falling heavily on the hardwood floor.
"honey," lee breathes out, a wide smile on his face as he steps into the warm room, and enveloping you in his arms, his lips latching onto your own.
"hi," you giggle, through pecks to your lips, followed by him slipping his tongue into your mouth.
you allow it for a few moments, relishing in his closeness. you untangle yourself from him, making him frown cutely at you. you give him a teasing smile, and peck him on the lips once more.
"i just swept, and washed those floors of yours, lee dutton. i'm not impressed," you slip past him in your bath towel, tsking at him as you go.
"i'm sorry honey, allow me to make it up to you," he says, a devious smile on his lips, as he follows you into his bedroom.
he catches you by the end of the bed, arms circling your waist as he pulls you flush with his chest. you look up at him throughout your eye lashes, and he bites his lip looking down into your eyes. he dips his head, resting his forehead on your shoulders, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. you want so badly to give in, but you have plans tonight.
"sorry cowboy," you murmur, pushing him away, turning towards his closet—where you keep a sizable amount of your clothes. "you need to shower, and get dressed."
"dressed? for what?" he groans dropping onto the end of the bed, slipping off his boots.
"the carnival? you promised tate last summer we'd be there to ride on the rollercoaster with him?" you say, glancing at him over your shoulder.
"you remember that?" he asks, rasing an eyebrow at you.
you giggle, dropping your towel to put on your underwear. lee moans quietly at the view of your naked body. you slowly pull them up, bending over to give him a full view of your bum. he sucks in a sharp breath, eyes never leaving your skin as you tease him.
you nod, "i do, and he's only text me about it everyday since – so y'know, it'd be hard to forget."
"yeah..." he agrees with you absentmindedly, eyes clinging to your chest as you twist your bra around your chest pulling it up. "hard to– hard to forget."
you make a show of putting your arms through the straps, and pulling the cups up. lee hangs off your every move, his fascination with your body not ending even with your boobs covered. his eyes rake up and down your figure, his eyes dark, and his bottom lip betweeen his teeth as he works through something silently. you feel smug with satisfaction as you step closer, slinging one leg over either side of his hips. you sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, bringing his attention back up to your face.
"baby," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.
"mhmm," he hums, hands landing on your hips.
"you promised,"
he nods, "i did,"
"but?"
his grip on your hips tightens, briefly, then retract.
"nothing, honey, i can wait." he leans in closer to your ear, "but tonight, i'm not going to be able to stop myself."
a shiver goes up your spine, goosebumps exploding over your arms. you missed that. he easily lifts you off his lap, setting you beside him. he stands, heading into the bathroom to shower, the door clicking closed calmly behind him. you sit there, surprised by his show of restraint. he doesn't normally do that, normally he would have had your face pressed into the mattress in a seconds notice. after taking a second to collect yourself, you stand up, and walk back over to the closet.
you pick out a dark green summer dress, a pair of brown cowboy boots in better shape than the ones you'd worn here. you grab a cardigan, and a cowboy hat that matches your boots. you then go back into the kitchen, and grab your cellphone from where you'd left it charging. two missed messages from monica dutton long.
hi aunt honey it's tate! excited to see you and uncle lee tonight rollercoster here we come!
hey, it's monica, just wanted to let you and lee know we'll be by the ticket booth. tate's very excited, see you at 9.
ten minutes pass, and lee is walking down the hallway. he's wearing a button that coincidentally matches your dress, his good hat and his best boots. he looks refreshed, the stress of the day washed away, and a easy smile on his face.
"well don't you look handsome," you smile, stepping into his embrace.
he kisses you deeply, your knees go weak, his arm sliding around your back steadying you. he smirks into your lips, and you pull back rolling your eyes playfully at him. you forgot how much you enjoyed being here, being with him.
"honey, you are the most beautiful woman i have ever met; dressed up like this, or covered in sweat and dirt from a long day."
your heartaches at his confession; it's temporary, you'll be gone again come the end of august. then the cycle continues. you smile, enjoy it now. lee's always been your favourite, it's why you keep coming back. he always knows what to say to make your knees weak, and how to break your heart.
"we'd better go," you say, ignoring the disappointment in his eyes as you walk away.
you're always walking away.
"i had so much fun!" tate yells, hoisting the matching bear to yours over his head.
"and now he's going to take forever to get to sleep tonight," monica laughs, "thanks for the sugar rush, aunt honey."
"pshhh, he'll crash the minute you get him in the truck." you reply, "and no problem, i live for these moments,"
"it was good seeing you, honey." monica says, pulling you into a hug.
"you too mon, we need to get coffee before i leave." you tell her, giving her a light squeeze.
"why don't you stay?" she asks, watching as tate makes a beeline for the truck, climbing into the backseat as kayce follows behind him, chatting with lee.
"i can't," you can't tear your eyes away from lee's back as he talks with his youngest sibling, which doesn't go unnoticed by his sister-in-law.
"why not? you and lee act like a married couple and besides; you're perfect for each other." her tone is gentle, like she's talking to an easily spooked animal.
"because..." you debate telling her the truth, the real reason you run every year, and your heart wins out over your rational thinking. "i know that he'll always be there this way, i don't think he'd want me if he had me fulltime."
"how could you possibly think that? lee looks at you like you personally hung the moon, sun and stars. he's so in love with you," she says, smiling softly at you. "you have to know that by now. he turns into a completely different person when you're gone."
"i know he is, i see it in the way he looks at me. i just– i'm terrified of ruining what we have. i'm not an easy person to love, i've been told that my whole life; i'm impulsive, stubborn, bossy, rude, selfish.... he doesn't deserve someone like that. he deserves someone who's sweet, and kind, and... good." you say, "someone like him."
"i don't know... the way you describe yourself; that's not the person i see. i see someone so full of love, and life, someone that helps others no matter what, honey, i've literally seen you give someone the shirt off your back. whoever's pumped your head full of that hate, was trying to convince you you're evil, when you're not. you're none of those things."
"i appreciate that, i'm not sure you're entirely right, but thank you." you shoot her a half smile, and squeeze her shoulder before you break away, walking towards lee's truck.
he meets you halfway, entwining your fingers, and pulling you closer.
he smiles at you, "that was fun,"
"i knew you'd have a good time,"
"thank you for making me come tonight,"
"thank you for winning me a big ass teddy bear," you reply, holding the giant black bear. "i love him, and i'm going to call him dusty,"
"dusty, eh?" he qestions, pulling your door open for you.
"do you have any better ideas?" you quiry, sliding into your seat.
he leans against the passenger door, his head tilted to the side as he thinks. after a few seconds he shakes his head, ducking down to kiss you once. twice. three times before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.
"wanna grab a pizza on the way?" he asks, and you nod excitedly. "barneys?"
"barneys!" you say it at the same time, and he laughs, patting your left thigh.
three weeks later, you're sitting in one of the muskoka chairs up by the main house, a blanket over your legs as you and tate roast marshmallows.
"yours is burning!" tate says, pointing to your marshmallow.
"i love them burnt!" you reply, watching as it catches fire.
"that's weird," tate makes a face, "burnt ones are gross,"
"nuh-huh, they're the best!"
"no! golden ones are!"
"ewwww," comes lee's voice from behind the two of you, "marshmallows? gross!"
"i agree with you there," kayce says, from his chair across the fire pit.
"i second it, too sweet." john adds from beside kacey, and tate looks shocked.
"grandpa! you don't like marshmallows?"
john shakes his head, a disgusted look on his face.
"that's devastating," tate says, and monica lets out a snort of laughter.
"who taught you that word?" she asks, trying to keep a straight face as he stares her down.
"aunt honey, she says it a lot." tate shrugs, turning back to the fire.
monica gives you a quizzical look, as lee sits down beside you, between your chair and hers on your right side. so i don't say fuck in front of your kid, you mouth at her, and she nods in understanding.
"cause i'm trying not to corrupt you," you add, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to give him a quick hug.
"yeah, besides, his dad does a good enough job on his own." lee chuckles making kayce roll his eyes, and flip his brother off while tate's looking away.
"how long are you down for now?" john asks, when the conversation dies down.
your eyes snap to lee, who's looking staight ahead into the darkness. monica and kayce exchange a look before they both take turns glancing at you, and lee.
"uh, 'm not sure just yet," you say awkwardly, your shoulders tensing automatically.
you feel like a dear caught in the headlights. john nods, his attention being stolen by rip who materializes next to him. feeling like john just smacked you, you excuse yourself, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders, and making your way to lee's house. you sit out on the steps, thinking about what you were doing. i'm not good for lee. staying would be a mistake, it would ruin what we have. then i'd be all alone again. you're not sure how long you'd been sat alone, staring off into the dark when you hear lee's boots crunching gravel.
"you okay?" you ask him, and his eyebrows pull together in confusion.
"i'm fine, are you, okay?"
you force yourself to nod, "of course,"
he reaches out for your hand, and you immediately give it to him, allowing him to guide you up into the house. you shed your uggs, blanket, jacket, sweatpants and sweater, when you enter his bedroom. you crawl into bed, pulling the blankets up and waiting for him to crawl in next to you. he does, turning the lights off, and shimmying close to you. you rest your head on his chest, and even after you hear his soft snoring, you can't fall alseep. you lay there, eyes closed trying to sleep, but then the first ray of light speaks into the room.
before you know it, it's six am, and lee's softly shifting you over so he can go shower. you stare up at the ceiling, unmoving. the room is still dark, and when he steps out of the bathroom, towel around his hips, and his hair dripping wet. you pretend to be sleeping when he leans over the bed to give your temple a quick kiss, before he heads down to the bunkhouse. you lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind racing. you met lee at a bar in town when you were eighteen, you'd been passing through, on your way to your next race, when he'd caught your eye.
you ended up spending the month curled up in his sheets, praying that it would never end. but like all good things in your life, it did. you'd had a blow out fight about something ridiculous, and after he fell asleep that night you left. you found yourself passing through the following summer, part of you praying you'd see him again. and you did. he sat perched on a bar stool, chatting with rip and two other hands from the ranch. rip saw you first, a knowing smile on his lips, then the other two—who you later came to know as colby and ryan—their conversation fizzled out quickly.
lee had stood, ready to leave for the night, but when he twisted around on that bar stool, he saw you standing there. a smile broke out on his face, and the next thing you knew, you were face down on his mattress, and all was forgotten. it was a cycle that repeated itself for years, this being your tenth summer returning to yellowstone. you couldn't help yourself, there was just something so magnetic about him. you couldn't stay away even if you tried. you show up, play house, counting down the days until a fight breaks out and then you disappear like leaves in the wind.
this time something was different though. everyone around you seemed to be trying to get you to stay. you'd had conversations with kayce, beth, tate, monica and even rip. that was the one you kept rolling over the most. you'd had a similar childhood as he did, but instead of you ending things, your father took your mother and two younger sister's lives then his own. you were seventeen. the only things you had left after that, was your horse, peaches, your truck and trailer. other than some clothes, that was all. you were a traveller, rarely staying in one spot long enough to form any meaningful connections.
lee and the dutton's were an anomaly to that. maybe that was why you always came back, but you couldn't be sure. rip had intercepted you just before supper one night, and despite never having had a much of a real conversation (besides small talk) in your ten years as acquaintances, you sat and listened to what he had to say. rip being a man of few words, had talked to–well more like at you–for twenty minutes. in that time, he'd managed to make you really wonder if running was the best option. you can only run for so long, eventually you'll be too old too, and then what? what would you have to show for it?
you phone goes off on the nightstand, and you sigh, forcing yourself to sit up. monica dutton long. you hit answer, and greet her.
"sorry, were you sleeping?"
"no, no, you're fine. what can i do for you?"
"tate was hoping you'd be up for a ride, i've packed a picnic, and kayce and lee said they'd meet us for lunch."
"sure, that sounds fun," you smile softly, your head screaming, see? you'd miss this if you left. you always do. "i'll get peaches ready, and meet you down at the barn,"
"awesome, tate's already excited. see you down there,"
you hang up, and slide out of bed. your feet hit the hard wood floor, and you go through your routine. you brush your teeth, put on a ballcap, and then throw on a t-shirt, jeans and your boots. you grab a bag of the cookies you bakes yesterday, and jump onto the four wheeler lee leaves for you so you can get around the far without using your truck. over the years, you've noticed that lee gets weird about your truck. it's probably because anytime you go near it, you're usually hauling ass out of yellowstone. you blink away the thought, and head down towards the barn.
lloyd is standing in the bunkhouse doorway when you park the four wheeler, "coffee?"
"oh, yes please." you nod, and he disappears inside returning moments later with a mug for you. "thanks, lloyd."
"you're welcome sweetheart," he smiles at you, and the pair of you stand in a comfortable silence, enjoying your coffee. "y'know, it's nice seeing you around here again,"
the guilt you've felt since you stepped into lee's house flairs back to life, and you nod, forcing a small smile. you go to walk towards the stall's, and he catches your elbow pulling you back.
"i know you've heard it a lot since you got back," he says, staring you down, "but everytime you leave; it's like lee loses part of him... you know that saying, "behind every good man, there's a great woman"? lee needs his great woman around. he needs you around,"
your eyes fill with tears, and you're sobbing before you have much of a chance to try and keep yourself together. lloyd's eyes go wide, and if you weren't losing your mind, you'd have laughed. he guides you into the bunkhouse, closing the door behind him. you plop down at the table, and try to calm yourself. lloyd stares at you, waiting patiently.
"i'm sorry," you mumble, using the shoulder of your shirt to wipe your eyes. "i don't know why that happened,"
"i didn't mean to push you," lloyd tells you, a look of guilt in his eyes.
"no, oh god no, please don't. this isn't your fault. i just..." you trail off looking at your feet. "can i vent for a minute?"
he nods, pulling out a chair and sitting beside you, "please,"
"i come from a pretty fucked up family," you start, lee doesn't even know about what happened to your family. you liked it that way, because every time you give someone an insight into your background, their perspective changed and they started treating you like glass. "i mean, who's isn't? mine... well, mine is a different kind of fucked up. my dad snapped one night, murdered my mom, two baby sisters, and then killed himself. no one's really sure why he did it; he was abusive as shit, sure, but that– that was a kind of rage he never displayed before. he didn't leave a note, he just did it, and then shot himself in the head. go figure the old bastard went the easy way,"
you sigh leaning forward resting your head in your hands, "i started running that night. i'd snuck out to see a boy, and came home to find them all dead. i just took off. had i not snuck out, i would be just like them. i don't have friends, i don't have any family, i've tried to keep to myself but when i met lee... my desire to be isolated changed. i just wanted to be with him. when i'm not here, all i can think about is whether he's safe or not. he's all i think about, but... my dad made it incredibly clear to me growing up that i was a burdern, unlovable, worthless, a waste of space... that kind of thing is difficult to just forget. he told me that everyday, for seventeen years. the scariest part of it all, is that i have my father's rage. i don't want to be like him, but i'm terrified that if i'm too close, i won't see it and it'll be too late."
you look up at lloyd, tears in your eyes, "he told me i wasn't worth loving, and i believe him. i hate leaving, i'm tired of it, but i'm terrified."
someone clears their throat from the doorway, the pair of you jumping at the noise. you turn your head, and see lee standing there, clutching the doorknob so tightly his fingers turn white. lloyd clears his throat, and stands, leaning down only to give your hand a light squeeze. lloyd leaves, and lee closes the door. it takes four long strides before lee is pulling you to your feet by your elbow, and crashing his lips to yours. you're surprised by the action, but melt into his touch. when the pair of you pull apart, breathing heavily, he rests his forehead against yours.
"i love you," he breaths, "you are worthy of love, you deserve happiness, and you are good."
your eyes water, again.
"how do you know i'm not a monster?" you whisper.
"because i know you. you bake cookies when you can't sleep, you pick up spiders and take them outside instead of killing them despite the fact that you're terrified of them, you close your eyes every time you see roadkill because it makes you sad that an animal died, you'd sooner adopt every animal than see them suffer, cute animals excite you, you're scared of thunder but always put on a brave face for tate because you don't want him to freak out, you hold doors open for everyone, and pay for peoples groceries or meal if they can't afford it. you are light, you are warmth, you are so damn good."
you bury your face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably as he holds you tightly. never in the ten years that lee has known you, has he ever seen your eyes water, let alone see you cry. someone knocks softly on the door, and then monica pokes her head in.
"oh, sorry– i was just going to ask if you guys were ready, but if now doesn't work–"
"no, now's good," you say, pulling your face away from his chest. "we were just–"
"she's staying," lee cuts you off, and she lets out an excited squeal.
"i have to tell kayce and tate!" she says, quickly disappearing.
you look up at him through red, swollen eyes, a teasing smile on your lips.
"i'm staying am i?" you ask wrapping your arms around his back. "'cause last i checked, you're the only one who hasn't asked me to stay."
"hasn't?" he echoes, an embarrassed look on his face as he looks down at you.
"oh yeah, your family was on me the minute i pulled in. you just happened to catch me in the aftermath of lloyd asking me."
"even rip?"
you nod, "especially rip. i think he had me convinced, but i wanted to hear it from you before i made my final decision."
he looks into your eyes, a serious look you've never seen before sliding over his features, "stay, please."
"okay," you whisper, not breaking eye contact, as his lips twitch up.
"marry me?" he says next, "please."
despite how badly he's caught you off guard, you find yourself immediately nodding, a wide smile crossing your face as he grabs you and spins you. you giggle, and he laughs, the pair of you hugging each other tightly.
"i love you," you tell him, "i love you so damn much, and i'm sorry for not you telling you sooner."
"it's ok, because we know now. that's good enough for me."
sam's pacing. you wonder if he's going to wear a hole in the carpet. you watch silently as he pin-pongs back and forth. five minutes pass, and when you realize that he's not slowing down anytime soon. when he scoots past the edge of the bed you're sitting on, you catch his elbow pulling him towards you.
his eyes focus, the wrinkle between his eyebrows finally easing slightly. you pat the bed, and slide onto the floor. he sinks down, and you pull the scrunchy from your hair. his eyes land on the top of your head as you lean back against the bed between his knees.
you'd known sam for years, and growing up, you didn't have anyone around to braid your hair. sam, had taken to learning how to do it for you. and over the years, it had become something of a grounding ritual. something for sam to focus on that wasn't destructive and kept him from spiraling.
sam's fingers glide through your hair, separating it into sections, "one or two?"
"up to you, samsquatch." you say, and he huffs, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes behind you.
but, hey? at least he was focusing on something else now.
SUMMARY — after receiving an unintelligible call from jax, you rush back to charming to discover your son, abel, has been kidnapped by camerson hayes, and worst yet, he also killed your younger brother that you practically raised.
PAIRING — exhusband!jax teller x fem!halfsack'ssister!reader | juice ortiz x reader
WORD COUNT — 3.8k
WARNINGS — established relationship(s), kidnapping, murder, death, past child neglect (about reader and her brother), divorce, premature birth, pregnancy complications, agent stahl, swearing, fighting, angst, loss of loved ones, suicidal thoughts, contemplation of suicide, cheating, allusion to smut but no description, no use of y/n (she's actually only outwardsly referenced 2 times and is referred to as miss epps or epps).
AUTHORS NOTES — just to clear somethings up; jax married reader instead of wendy, and instead of drugs being the reason abel was born early it was just due to pregnancy complications.
MASTERLIST
your heart was slamming rapidly into your ribcage, panic rolling off your skin in waves. you push the pedal to the floor, the idea of a speeding ticket not even remotely close to crossing your mind. this was your fault, it was. leaving charming, even for a few hours always felt like it had consequences. something bad always seemed to happen the moment you crossed the county line. your tires squeal as you peel into the teller-morrow parking lot, slamming your car in park as you jump out, only barely remembering to take off your seatbelt as you go. clay, piney, and opie are standing by the entrance to the clubhouse, sad expressions creasing their features.
"what happened?!" you ask, your voice loud, panicked and harsh.
the surprise on their faces from your tone has silence ringing in your ears. you'd known them for years, opie, jax and you being quite the troublesome trio through most of your youth. they'd never heard you raise your voice before, let alone the venom behind your words.
"someone answer me!" you shout, your entire body vibrates from the panic working its way down to your stomach.
you're going to puke if someone doesn't tell you what the hell is going on, and soon. you'd received a rather frantic voicemail from jax last night and hadn't been able to reach him since, which is what made you turn your car around and head for the clubhouse. his voice was shakey, and you couldn't hear a damn thing that made sense. but you know jax, and jax doesn't panic. he's dealt with and seen it all through the years, he's not easy to shake. so hearing your husband–well soon-to-be ex-husband–in that state had your mind reeling.
"kiddo, you need to take a deep breath." clay starts, attempting to sling an arm around your shoulders.
you shrug him off, "no! you need to tell me what the hell is going on, and why jax called me in a panic, and where the hell he is!"
it comes out as one rushed sentence, barely comprehensible but opie steps towards you. he rests a large hand on your shoulder, a distraught look on his face.
"we need you to take a breath, seriously, epps. i'll tell exactly what's happening, but you've barely taken a breath since walking over here, and you look like you're going to passout."
you nod, sucking in some extremely needed air. you take a second to just regulate yourself, and in that time, opie steers you over to one of the picnic tables. you sit down, back to the table and once you've calmed a little, you cross your arms and look up at him expectantly.
"alright, now, tell me."
he glances back at clay, and at his dad, before looking back to you. they turn and walk into the clubhouse, giving you two some privacy.
"cameron hayes killed your brother because he thinks gemma killed edmund,"
"w-what?" you ask, bottom lip wobbling, your head is spinning
your baby brother is... dead? eddie is dead? cameron hayes killed your brother? you shake your head, wiping your eyes on the sleeve of your flannel. you'd practically raised eddie. your mom was a drunk, and your dad had left long before you could form any memories of him. so, from ten on, you were big sister, mommy and daddy all rolled into one. you taught him manners, how to use the toilet, how to cook, how to flirt with girls, and so many more things. you'd been there for every step of his life, cheering loud enough to drown out the naysayers.
when he left for the military you were terrified that you'd get that call every parent dreds. sure, you weren't really his mom, you couldn't be with the five year age gap, but in all the areas that mattered, you were. eddie was your first kid in a twisted sense, and knowing that he'd made it all the way home from iraq, only to die at the hands of someone affiliated with the club that he loved so much shattered your heart.
"n-no, that's not possible, i-i just sp-spoke to eddie, we-we just spoke this morning. h-he said he and-and-and-and," you're spiraling, mind and heart racing faster, and faster before your expression drops, and your mind clears. "abel. he was taking tara back to jax's to get some of abel's things. where is my baby? where's abel, harry? where is my baby?"
you're sobbing uncontrollably, your entire body shaking as you slide off the seat of the picnic table, onto the concrete. opie pulls you into his chest, and you sob into his shirt. it's another first for all of them, watching you breakdown, watching you cry.
"we're going to find abel," opie says into your ear, trying to calm you down, it doesn't help, you just cry harder.
it shouldn't have happened in the first place! the club was on lockdown. losing eddie is hard enough, but losing your son in the same span of minutes is devastating. it takes you twenty minutes, but when you finally pull yourself together again you pat opie's arm, and stand up.
"where is jax?" you ask quietly, taking a deep breath.
"he's at home, we're heading over there now, let juice drive you, you shouldn't be driving right now." opie says, and you nod.
normally you'd fight him, which he's well aware of, but knowing your son is god knows where has you in an anxious tailspin. you don't have the energy to fight with anyone right now. opie walks you over to your car, tucking you into the passenger seat and waiting by the door for the other's to come out of the clubhouse.
"what happened exactly?" your voice is barely a whisper, and opie looks worried.
"are you sure you want the run down right now?" he questions, and you immediately nod, your eyes on the hood of your car.
"please, ope," its the most desperate, pathetic sound to ever cross your lips, but you have to know.
he takes a deep breath, "what tara says happened, is that gemma took off while they were out, so she sent your brother to watch over her, and she went to jax's house. stahl freaked, shot edmund hayes, gemma shot polly, and stahl pinned the blame on her. half– eddie took off to find tara, and cameron must have followed him from their safe house. cameron was going to kill abel, but your brother stepped in, and got stabbed in the process. he tied her up in the nursery, and left with abel."
"the same man who killed my brother, has my son?" you ask, and he nods. "and tara just let him take my son?"
"well, i wouldn't say that—"
"everyone's ready," juice says, stepping up to the driver's side window, pulling the door open.
"hang tight," opie says, patting your knee before closing the door, and walking over to his bike.
"hey baby," juice says softly, "i'm sorry."
you nod, but don't say anything. you pull your seatbelt on, and lean back. you and juice had been together for a couple of months, with jax's blessing of course. he'd been great, amazing even. part of you would always love jax in a way that juice would understand, and he was okay with that. knowing you would be crawling into bed with him every night was good enough to ease any worries he might have had. juice had been rock solid in your life, a shoulder you privately cried on when jax had initially asked for the divorce.
you saw it coming from a mile away, while you'd loved each other greatly, it just wasn't the same kind. you knew that in the beginning, the middle and especially at the end. you also knew that if you didn't agree, or you tried to convince him to stay, that you'd lose him for real. he'd grow to resent you, and you'd grown to hate him for resenting you. you couldn't live in a world where jax wasn't at least a part of your life in some capacity. so that meant an amicable split, and seeing him when you dropped off abel. despite what most people think about your relationship, things haven't changed.
jax is still one of your best friends, and when you're not working, you're usually at his house. your relationship label may have changed, but your relationship hadn't. opie had been the most worried when you'd told him you were getting divorced. his two best friends splitting? nightmare. but when you told him there were no hard feelings, well, he actually didn't believe you at first. it took seeing you both in action to actually understand that you were serious. then, you found out you were pregnant.
it didn't change anything, you were still getting divorced, but jax was actually really excited. he'd told you about all his worries about becoming a father, and you reassured him that he'd be great. in turn he did the same for you. he joined you at every appointment, and played a very active role in your pregnancy. he helped you find an apartment close to his house, and spent a lot of time by your side helping you with nursery set up, moving, and everything in between.
gemma was probably the most heartbroken over your split. she loved you just as much as (and sometimes more than) jax. she helped you a lot over the years, especially when she found out about her grandbaby. gemma made the transition from wife, to ex and baby momma so much easier. she was a cheerleader for you, and always in your corner. you were incredibly lucky to have them, and be in the situation you were in. tara on the other hand... she was the opposite. gemma clocked it the moment you went into labour prematurely.
you'd been stressed over work, being the only manager on an already understaffed team was difficult but so was being pregnant. you'd never planned on getting pregnant, so there were a lot of things at work you decided were to be dealt with later. the moment you found out, you were trying your damnedest to get things ready. the stress got to you, and manifested itself in making your pregnancy high risk, and then landing you in the hospital way earlier than you should have been. it was obvious to you the moment jax came to see you after abel was born that tara thought it was your fault.
later it became clear to you that she just didn't like you, something you didn't notice in your teen years. you'd never really spent any time with her then, but the more time you spent with her after your son's birth, because lets face it anytime you went to visit jax she was there. all smiles, and cooing at your son until jax left the room, and then a scowl and general disinterest in you reared its ugly head. now things were different. she let a terrorist kill your baby brother, and kidnapp your son. karma was about to take her ass for a ride, and you were going to be driving.
"hey," juice says, his warm hand finding yours over the center console, snapping you from your thoughts. "we're here,"
you turn your head, and see clay speaking to tara in the doorway. your vision goes dark. you don't even remember getting out of the car, let alone walking over to tara and grabbing a handful of her hair. you're yelling is incomprehensible, but it's obvious to onlookers that you're sobbing as you beat the shit out of her. you come to again with juice's arms around you, pulling you into the house, and opie pulling tara inside into a different room. your only injury is three claw marks across your cheek, but tara is quite a bit worse for ware.
"what the hell were you thinking?!" jax snaps at you, upon pulling you away from juice, and into abel's nursery.
"i was thinking about how that bitch let some guy take my fucking baby and kill my baby brother!" you scream at him, breaking down all over again. "my baby..."
his expression softens, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a hug. you sob into his shoulder, loud, heartbreaking, borderline violent wails.
"i'm sorry about your brother, i really am, but you can't blame tara."
you pull back, weaseling away from his grip, "can't i?"
"it could have happened to anyone, it could have happened to you."
"i would have died, jackson, and i think you better than anyone knows that. i would have died for abel. for eddie. i would not have let that man get away with everything i love." you say, sobering, violent, hot anger courses through you. "i would have died or killed him. i wouldn't have let him walk out the door."
he just stares at you. his once bright blue eyes dark, like the light behind them died. you know he knows exactly how you feel. that he blames tara to some degree. but you don't really care. you're numb. your heart aching in a way you've never felt before. in a way you'd never wish upon your worst enemy. tara included, despite what she did. the worst part is you don't have the one person you want to talk to about it. eddie died protecting her, and his nephew. what did tara do? she let herself get tied up, let cameron take your baby, let cameron kill your brother. tara lost nothing, and once again, you've lost everything.
"i want to kill her jax," you say finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, his sad eyes just staring back at you. "that's not rational, not right. but i've just lost the two single most important people in my life, and i want to kill her for it."
"i understand what you're saying, why you're saying it," he says slowly, "but you're right, it's not rational."
"when abel comes home, she's not allowed to be around him by herself. i don't care what that means. i don't feel comfortable with her being alone with our son." you tell him, fingers grasping the cool leather of his kutte to pull him in closer. "i don't want to see, hear or think about her until then, and you bet your ass, i'm coming with you to bring him home, whatever, and wherever that takes us."
jax briefly looks scared of you, but he collects himself just as quickly as you let him go, and brush past him back out the way you came.
"you're lucky you're not dead," you seeth, flipping tara off with both hands as you walk back out to your car.
worried about your well-being and your mental state, jax sends juice home with you when you leave. the drive to your apartment, albeit quick, is silent. how does one comfort someone who lost both their only child, and only brother in a matter of minutes? besides, juice knows you well enough to know that you'll talk when you're ready. if you're ever ready. and right now? you don't know if you'll ever be. the fear of unraveling that far scares you. so for now, you think positively, and you keep moving forward.
it takes four hours, before agent stahl is in your living room, sitting on your couch. juice stands in the kitchen, watching the exchange from the sink, where he's washing your lunch dishes.
"so, mrs teller, where were you yesterday afternoon?" she asks, and you immediately understand why the club hates the woman so much.
"the divorce might not be finalized yet, but it's miss epps, and i was half-way to seattle."
"ah, yes, i forgot about that... why were you heading to seattle?"
"i don't really see how that's going to get my son back, seeing as you know who took him already."
"we need to get a picture together of everyone's movements."
"i got a phone call a few days ago, my mother's in the hospital there. she wanted to see me, so i was going."
"as i understand it, you aren't close with your mother?"
"no. look, agent stahl, this isn't helping. get your ass out there and look for my son. you're the reason my brother died, i'm not interested in you being the reason my son dies too. do your fucking job." you abruptly stand up, and walk into the kitchen.
you want to throw something. you want to scream. you want to be violent and aggressive. you miss your brother. you miss your baby. you want them back. most of all, you want this nightmare to be over.
when jax tells you they're heading to ireland, you pack light, but take abel's favourite stuffed animal, a white bear with a blue hat, mitts, scarf and booties. you carry the bear with you, hugging it tightly when you worry you're about to fall apart. jax's reassuring hand on your knee, and juice's hand in yours keeps your grounded. you lose yourself a little every time you think you're going to see abel, and then are denied at the last moment.
when father ashby finally drops the bomb on you and jax; that he'd been adopted, sold to another family, you break down. father ashby tries to comfort you, but nothing he says changes anything.
"i don't care about your fucking god, i don't. i don't care about your promise to john teller. i want my fucking baby back. your cousin has caused me enough pain; by killing my fucking brother. don't make the mistake of keeping my son from me." you scream, uncaring who hears you. "i'm sure you know the saying desperate people, do desperate things. desperate doesn't even begin to cover what i am, and what i'm willing to do to get abel in my arms, and back home."
you lay in bed all day, the blanket pulled up over your head, your eyes squeezed closed, the bear tucked under your arm. you've felt sick from the moment you'd heard that abel might be gone. whisked away by some—in their defence, probably oblivious, but lovely—couple, about to be taken god knows where. the very notion, that you could go home empty handed hurts, burns, stabs at your heart. you feel like someone's cut you open, and taken a knife to your chest. poking and proding at all the parts you should never poke and prod at.
you've never felt worse in your life; physically, mentally, and emotionally. you're drained, exhausted, and contemplating ending your life. you've never felt so low. you're almost embarrassed as the idea crosses your mind, but the longer you stew, the longer it seems like a really appealing idea. incredibly selfish, but desperation is like that. you weren't sure how jax was downstairs, enjoying the night, the party, the people... how he wasn't suffocating, like you were. everthing is falling apart, collapsing around you, and he's acting like everything's a-ok.
you don't hear the bedroom door open, but you startle when you feel the bed dip behind you. fight mode activates, and you leap from the bed, eyes scanning for a weapon. then you see jax's face in the reflection of the window, your heart rate slows.
"you asshole, make some noise when you move around. i thought i was about to get murdered..." you close your eyes, hands dropping to your sides. "why are you here?"
"i'm so sorry," his voice is barely a whisper, you vaguely make out the trembling of his bottom lip, and the tears streaming down his face. "this never– never should have happened."
your expression softens, and you sink back down on the small bed. you pull jax in, his head resting on your shoulder as you hold him. you'd only ever seen him cry a few times, but that was usually how you could tell he was past his breaking point. jax always perseveres, pushing forward. you're the slightly unstable, completely unhinged one. he's the calm, rational thinker.
"i don't blame you." you tell him, "i don't even blame tara, anymore. i blame stahl. it's her fault all this shit happened. had she not shot edmund, none of this would have happened."
he nods against your shoulder, then lifts his head. the kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome or unwanted. the sex is fantastic, it always is with jax, but it just further complicates an already complicated situation. it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened come morning when juice pops his head into the room to see how you're doing. he's hurt, but he understands to an extent. he loves abel. he loves you and by extension abel is part of you, so what's not to love? under normal circumstances, he knows this would not be an issue, but nothing about what's happening is normal.
he knows you're grieving, he knows as abel's father, jax can relate to your struggles more than anyone. what he doesn't understand, is why, even while in the midst of a divorce, the pair of you would do something like that. how despite this, he shoves his concerns aside, and closes the door, banging heavily on it to wake the pair of you. he doesn't avoid your eye, or not take your hand when you reach for his, or walk out of every room you walk into. he instead, keeps his mouth shut, and supports you. the guilt gnaws at you, and you spend the majority of the day avoiding jax, and he you (and juice).
after your night with jax, you brush your hair, actually get dressed, and spend the afternoon playing cards with juice, opie and happy, and try really hard to feel normal. it works for a few hours, until you find out that your son has been taken, again from his new adopted parents, and that they were brutally murdered in their hotel room. discovering jimmy was behind it surprises no one, but sets you into yet another tailspin. terrified of what could happen to him, terrified that jimmy would kill him if he got too annoying.
luckily, your fears never play out, because father ashby trades himself for abel. when jax walks back through the doors of the apartment you'd all been staying in, with abel in his arms you can't help the happy tears. shaky, holding your breath, hand over your mouth, you stare at your unharmed baby in jax's arms. seeing abel for the first time in what feels like an eternity is like a cold water shock to your system. when jax hands him over to you, letting you finally hold your son after weeks without him.
he smiles up at you, cooing softly, and reaching for your hair. it's like every bad, anxiety moment slips away. it doesn't matter that he was gone, all that matter's is that he's home, in your arms, surrounded by all the people who fought to bring him home, his family.
you resisited his charm for a long time; acting like he didn't exist, or brusting off his flirting. then after getting cornered at a bar by some creep, ryan stepped in like a knight in shining armour. you couldn't keep your disinterested act up much longer before he was sweeping you off your feet. your relationship is a fairytale. it was the kind of love you thought only existed in movies.
will start 16 tasks then realize he didn't finish the first one so he will go back and then turn around and do the same thing until he's finished them all
will make himself something to eat or drink, and then go back to the livingroom/his room and get hungry/thirsty only to find thr drink or snack waiting for him because he forgot it the first time
puts things down and then 'loses' them constantly!! it's literally in front of your face pretty boy!!!
obsessed with music, and absolutely hates silence
he literally cannot function if there's silence
cleaning the kitchen? he's blasting metallica. in the shower? black sabbath on full volume and you better believe he's doing every (air) guitar solo, and singing along the whole time. getting ready for bed/falling alseep? his favourite dio album is turned down low enough it won't bother wayne, but it's playing until he either passes out and it clicks off, or he's putting on another album
isn't a music genre snob but in the same breath will tell you he'd rather die than listen to country music
despite his stance on country music, loves willy nelson and johnny cash (because who doesn't???)
loves animals and would kill if he caught someone abusing them
cries watching kitty/puppy videos, because they're so damn innocent and too good for humanity and this world
he physically cannot watch those ads about abused animals, will turn the tv off or leave the room (will still get misty eyed just thinking about the poor babies)
will steal animals he sees being mistreated, and will either beg wayne to let him keep them or rehome them to somewhere they'll be loved and properly cared for (he goes and visits them periodically too)
super flirty with people, especially if you're on the shyer side, or are an old lady
if he notices you're shy/insecure he'll lay it on thick (loves seeing people blush/get flustered)
loves old ladies, like grandma's, always tells them they don't look old enough to have children let alone grandchildren or gasp, great grandchildren
gets easily flustered when people flirt with him
he's a natural flirt, unless someone flirts first/or flirts back – then his brain short circuits and he's completely thrown off his game
very gentlemanly
holds open doors for everyone, doesn't matter if you're a man, woman, etc, also doesn't matter how far from the door you are, he will hold it if he sees you coming in his direction — respects wait staff, janitors, etc (always leaves a good tip because people suck, and wait staff deserve to be treated well and tipping is essential!!!)
is a good cook/terrible baker
loves to try new recipes, loves experimenting with his cooking, wayne taught him the basics and then eddie started cooking super all the time for them, making sure wayne was well fed
also can make delicious food out of things you would never expect!!
do not try the cookies/muffins/cupcakes/etc. just don't he doesn't realize that baking soda and baking powder are different things!!!! he will make you the saltiest baked goods you've ever tried!!!
looks like a black cat is infact a golden retriever
he is a silly, goofy, happy boy!! he likes meeting new people, making new friends, (also thinks hes a lap dog)
has zero spatial awareness
he flings his hands/arms around like there's no one else on the planet often results in accidentally hitting someone or almost hitting someone
walks into things in his eyeline that he can see are coming closer, or tries to dodge things when they get close enough instead of just moving over half an inch
bumps his head, stubs his toes a lot, trips or almost trips like once an hour
will bump into your if you're walking beside him, he has a bad habit of nearly shoving people into walls because of how close he gets
apologizes to inanimate objects that he bumps into on the regular
taught himself to play the guitar, drums and piano
when he was a kid his grandparents had a little standing piano in their living room and he'd mess around with it, and then he heard a song on the radio he really liked that had a piano in it so he sat down and over christmas break he taught himself how to play the song, and then how to play some more songs — he only ever seeks out a piano when he's sad now
wayne got him a kid sized drum set for christmas one year, and he played with it until it ultimately broke apart — he taught gareth to play drums
his love of playing guitar came from his father, who before and abandoning eddie taught him a couple chords, and gave him his first guitar — it was an acoustic but it was the only good gift his father ever gave him
cannot stay still
fidgets with his rings, taps his foot, clicks pens (until everyone around his is annoyed), picks at peeling paint, stickers, etc, doodles on himself constantly
has hearing loss from how loud he plays his music + not wearing ear protection at band practices
its mostly because of how loud he cranks his music in the van, never realizes how bad it is until he gets in in the morning for work/school and nearly deafens himself but also scares himself so bad that sometimes he dumps his coffee all over the place
has a terrible memory
writes lists/important 'to do's' on the top of his hand/wrist because he always forgets something, he always has something written down — and despite this still forgets
reuses jokes that aren't that funny but will die laughing upon every delivery
walks into hell fire weaing the same shirt as every friday session and will say "oh that's embarrassing, we've all worn the same thing" ((also not my head canon but it's so funny and i can't stop thinking about it so i had to add it))
is always reading something
be it a horror novel, a dnd manual, something someone recommended to him, he always has a book on/with him
loves thunderstorms and rain
he finds it calming, the rhythmic beating of the rain hitting the metal of the trailer roof, a kind of music in its own right
he likes to sit in the doorway and watch as it pours down, just sitting there, feeling the mist of cool water that sprays up
under absolutely no circumstances does he fuck with porcelain dolls
their eyes are creepy and they follow you, 'nough said
loves halloween more than any other holiday
dresses up every year with zero regard for what anyone thinks, loves to scare kids, always has the most elaborate set up so that he can sit out in the yard and watch/be apart of the scaring
is a lover
doesn't really have many preferences for a partner, isn't really set on a specific gender, body type, age, etc
i'm of the belief that eddie would love you for loving him
terrible at fighting
he prefers not to fight, which is why he wears rings, so if he has to at least that might get them to back off
so good at gift giving
he remembers that one thing you mentioned that one time like nine years ago and anytime he sees something that reminds him of you he gets it
prefers to make gifts for people, and always gets them something they love/need
