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corroded-hellfire · 2 years

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Big Brown Eyes - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You’re a single mom and when you drop your son off at Dustin’s while you go to work, you meet his new friend Eddie.

Note: So, this really just came about because I wanted cute interactions between both Eddie and Steve with a little boy. I might write more in this verse if people like this?

Warnings: single mom, reader x ex steve, stancy is together, mechanic!eddie, i think that’s it?

Words: 5.6k

[Part 2 | Big Brown Eyes masterlist]

“Hello, you’ve reached the Hendersons. Sorry we missed your call-.”

“Shit,” you mutter. You sigh and rub a hand over your face. You purse your lips in thought and tilt your head from side to side before picking up the phone again. Thankfully, this time there’s a response.

“Hello?”

“Max, hey! Do you know where the goonies are hanging out today? I’m trying to find Dustin,” you say.

“They’re all at his house. None of them would shut up about the campaign at school yesterday. Why? Everything okay?” Max asks.

“Yeah, fine. I just have to head to work and need someone to watch Ev. I know you have the evening shift at the diner tonight or I would’ve asked you.”

“Where’s Steve?” Max asks.

“Out of town for the day with the Wheelers. Holly had a dance recital somewhere near Indianapolis,” you tell her.

“Mike didn’t go,” she says with a snort. “He’s at Dustin’s with the rest of them.”

“What a loving brother,” you deadpan.

“One of the guys can watch Ev. I know for a fact Lucas has no plans tonight so don’t let him try to make any excuses.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say. “Alright, I’ll try the house again. Thanks, Max.”

“No problem.”

With a sigh, you hang up and pick up the receiver again, your finger jamming into the familiar numbers for Dustin’s house.

It rings. And rings. And rings.

“Hey! Hello?” An out of breath Dustin gasps on the other line.

“You all good there?” you ask.

“Oh, hey. Yeah. I’m fine. Was that you who called before? Sorry, it was the final roll of the dice,” he explains, as if that makes it evident why he wouldn’t answer the phone. You can hear the others shouting in the background. You can’t tell if it’s in happiness that they won the campaign, or anger because they failed.

“Uh huh,” you say. “Listen, one of the girls at work called in sick and I said I’d come help out. Could you or one of the boys watch Everett for me, pretty please? It’ll just be for a few hours.”

“Sure, bring him on by. We all know I’m his favorite.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes fondly. There’s no way to deny it, Everett always lights up when he sees his Uncle Dusty Buns.

“Okay, we’ll be there in ten. Thanks, Dustin,” you say.

“Don’t thank me until you get him back in one piece. Bye.”

You chuckle to yourself as you hang up the phone. A squeak sounds behind you and you smirk to yourself at the familiar sound of Everett’s little sneakers hitting the linoleum tile of the kitchen floor. Slowly spinning around on your heel, you catch a pair of big brown eyes staring at you from around the corner. Out of the many things Everett had inherited from Steve, his eyes were what people noticed first. They were nearly identical to his father’s. His hair was also growing similarly, but Everett was still too young to tell if it would be quite as high as Steve’s.

“Is someone spying on me?” you ask.

“Nooooo,” you hear as his tiny head hides back around the corner. His giggling would be enough to give him away even if it weren’t for the scuffling of his feet against the floor.

“I think someone is. I think I was being watched,” you say. You creep around the corner and snatch him up in your arms. The muscles in your arms and back protest at how big and heavy he’s getting.

“By who?” Everett asks innocently. Those damn doe eyes look up at you under thick lashes. It was truly uncanny.

“You, mister!” You dig your fingers into his side, knowing his left is the most ticklish. He squeals and struggles in your grip, trying to break free.

“Mommy, no!” he calls between bouts of laughter.

“Everett, yes!” you answer before peppering kisses all over his face.

He pulls away from your kisses and the two of you look at each other, similar smiles reflecting each other. At least that’s something he got from you. He reaches up to move some hair that’s fallen into your face. It’s more of a smack than a gentle motion, but you know the intention was sweet.

“You’re silly,” he says fondly.

“Oh yeah? Well guess where silly mommy is taking you, Mr. Troublemaker?” you say.

“Toys?” he asks, tilting his head to the side. As if this kid wasn’t spoiled enough by his parents, aunts, uncles, and everyone else who knows him. His obsession with the toy store has stuck with him ever since Karen Wheeler took him there for his third birthday a few months back. You were thankful she watched him as often as she did, and that she spoiled him like her own grandchild, but this obsession was wearing on both your nerves and bank account.

“No,” you say. “Don’t you think you have enough toys? Never mind, don’t answer that, you. Nope, I’m taking you to Uncle Dusty Bun’s.”

Everett’s eyes lit up and he began to bounce in your arms. “Dusty! Dusty!”

More often than not, he called Dustin “Uncle Dusty Bun” in full, but he often reverted to “Dusty” when he was excited or angry. Dustin was never referred to by his actual name by you or Steve when Everett was born, both of you thinking it would be hilarious to give him the nickname instead. Dustin was less than thrilled at first, but the nickname didn’t seem so bad once you asked him to be Everett’s God father as well.

“Yep, come on.” You set Everett down so he can get his little backpack from his room. Whenever Everett went to somebody’s house he packed his favorite toy dinosaur, one of his coloring books, and a handful of crayons with him in his bag.

He runs off, most likely giving the family that lived in the apartment underneath yours a ceiling rattling boom, and you step into the bathroom. Working at the library meant that you didn’t have a uniform you needed to wear. As long as your clothes looked somewhat professional, your hair was neat, and your makeup wasn’t wild, you were good to go. You fix the hair that Everett had swatted and neaten up the rest of it.

Everett jumps into the doorway of the bathroom, blue backpack on and ready to go. “Let’s gooooo!”

“Can’t wait to get away from your mom, huh?” you tease him. You ruffle his dark hair as you pass him, grabbing your purse and keys from the kitchen counter. His loud footsteps echo behind you as you walk to the front door.

“Daddy home?” Everett asks as you’re locking the door behind you.

“Hmm?” you look to Everett who is gazing across the parking lot at the adjoining apartment building where Steve lives. “Oh, no, Daddy isn’t home right now. But he’ll be back by dinner time.”

“Will he make me take a bath?” Everett wrinkles his nose up in distaste as he slips his hand into yours.

“If he doesn’t, I will,” you tell him. You lead him down the stairs to the first floor, Everett jumping with two feet down each step. He hums a song to himself as you walk to the car. Though he hates sitting in it, Everett has become adept at securing his own car seat, which has saved you countless minutes over the past few weeks. “All buckled in?”

He nods to you in your rear-view mirror, and you pull out of the parking lot. It’s not a long ride to Dustin’s but Everett insists on the radio anyway. You weren’t sure when he developed such a love of music, but you’re pretty sure he recognizes more songs on the radio than you do. Love Shack comes on and Everett begins to wiggle in his seat, dancing along to the beat. You were glad the meaning of the song went over his head, and he just enjoys the silly sounds the song makes.

Everett knows the way to Dustin’s and gets more excited the closer you get to his house. He begins to look out the window, straining his neck as if that will help him see his favorite uncle sooner. As you pull up to the Henderson house, you notice a number of cars parked out front. So, the guys were still here.

“Looks like you’re seeing more than just Uncle Dusty Bun,” you tell him as you swing your car into the driveway. You would only be here five minutes; it doesn’t matter if you’re blocking anyone in.

“Who?” Everett asks.

“Let’s go see,” you say, pulling the key out of the ignition.

While your son has no issues getting into his car seat, he hasn’t gotten the hang of unbuckling it yet. He’s grateful when you free him from the confines, hopping out of the car with his little backpack, and running up to the front door. Even on his tiptoes he can’t quite reach the doorbell, so he settles on banging on the door with his little fists instead.

“Easy, Ev,” you say as you come up next to him. You go to press the doorbell but the front door swings open before you get the chance.

“Hey, I thought I heard the little monster out here!” Dustin grins and bends down, letting Everett run into his arms. “How you doing, kiddo?”

“Good!” Everett says as he wraps his arms around Dustin’s neck. “Got my dino.”

“Well, of course you do!” Dustin says. He lets go of the boy, who rushes past him into the living room. The loud hum of boys talking reaches you at the door and you nod your head inside.

“Whole crew here?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Dustin replies. “Oh, wait! Come here, you haven’t met everyone who’s here.”

Dustin closes the door behind you as you step inside. Your brow furrows in confusion as you slip your hands into your back pockets. The house smells like microwaved pizza and like one of the boys is wearing cheap cologne. It’s dark in the house, which makes you roll your eyes, because the boys always insist the room must be dark when playing DND.

“What do you mean? Not just Lucas, Mike, and Will?” you ask.

“We made a new friend,” Dustin says.

“A nerdy friend, I’m guessing,” you mumble under your breath as you follow Dustin into the living room. You can hear Everett babbling to someone, which doesn’t surprise you in the least. Besides you and Steve, his favorite people in the world are in this room.

“My sister!” Will cries as he throws his arm over your shoulders. You chuckle to yourself, forgetting when the joke that you were Will’s older sister even started. He’d always been like a little brother to you, so it came naturally enough. You turn your head to look at him and frown when you have to tilt your head up.

“Why are you still growing? You’re already taller than me,” you say.

“Have been for a few years now,” he says with a wink, and you playfully push him off you.

You expect to find Everett either clinging to Mike’s legs or being held in Lucas’s arms, but the two are arguing with each other on the opposite side of the room with no toddler in sight. Everett is never quiet, however, so you just have to turn yourself in the direction of his voice.

“M’not afraid of spiders!” he’s saying. “Spider-man is my favorite!”

Everett is leaning against a fluffy maroon couch cushion, his backpack at his feet, and his eyes focused on the boy sitting next to him. But he is not a boy. He’s a man, your age or maybe a year older. He’s grinning down at your son, the smile knocking the breath from you. You don’t think you’ve ever once swooned in your life, but that’s the best word you think of to describe the feeling. Dark curls fell just past his shoulders and his dark eyes – why did dark eyes haunt you everywhere? – crinkled in the corners as he listened to Everett.

“Yeah? I like spiders, too,” the man says. He adjusts his hand on his lap and the glinting of one of his rings catches Everett’s attention.

“S’pretty,” Everett says. He takes the man’s hand in his own little ones and inspects the different rings he’s wearing. You’re shocked. Everett is usually shy with new people. He’ll barely say hello to a stranger, let alone hold someone’s hand.

“Thank you,” he tells your son. He’s smiling so adoringly at Everett that it quickens your heartbeat even further.

“Eddie,” Dustin calls from behind you. The man picks his head up and looks at Dustin, before turning his gaze on you. He smiles again and you feel pinned in place.

“You must be this wonderful little boy’s mother,” he says. Everett lets go of his hand and walks over to you, hugging one of your legs. Eddie stands up from the couch and steps right in front of you, offering you his hand. “I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie,” Everett repeats down by your legs, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“Y/N,” you tell Eddie. You slip your hand in his and notice the roughness of callouses and the coolness of the rings as he shakes it.

“Eddie works down at the garage,” Dustin says, coming up alongside you. “He noticed the DND bumper sticker on my car when I brought it in the other day. Needless to say, we became fast friends. This was his first campaign with us.”

“You have far more patience than I do,” you tell Eddie. “When I try to play with them, they just yell at me.”

“Well, he actually knows what he’s doing,” Mike quips with a smirk as he walks by you.

“When’s that English paper due, Michael? You know, the one on Pride and Prejudice, which you haven’t even read? Didn’t you want me to help you with that?”

“I take it back!” Mike calls from the kitchen. “I love you!”

You smile to yourself and look back to Eddie, who’s smiling at you the same way he smiled at Everett. It should feel patronizing, to be smiled at the same way that a baby was, but it’s flattering. It’s an adoring smile which floods heat to your cheeks.

“I was going to ask how you put up with these guys, but I see you can handle them no problem,” Eddie says.

“Well, when you work at the library and they come there to study and beg you for help, you tend to have the upper hand,” you say with a shrug.

Eddie chuckles. He pats Dustin on the arm. “I’m heading out. Next Saturday, right?”

“Yeah! Look forward to you being the DM. Mike’s been doing it forever,” Dustin says.

“Heard that!” Mike calls.

Eddie crouches down to be on eyelevel with Everett. “It was nice to meet you, little dude. Can I get a high five?” Everett grins and slaps his hand against Eddie’s. It hardly could have hurt but Eddie shakes his hand out as if stung. “Wow! You’re a strong boy. You must eat all your vegetables.”

Everett looks up at you and grins, proud.

“That he does,” you say, petting along his hair. You crouch down as Eddie stands back up. “You’re going to be good for Uncle Dusty Bun, right?” Out of your peripheral vision you can see the smirk Eddie gives Dustin at the nickname.

“Mhmm,” Everett nods.

“Okay, good. I love you,” you press a kiss to his cheek and pull him into your arms.

He squeezes you back tightly and mumbles a “love you too” against your neck. You stand up and Everett takes Dustin’s hand, already dragging him back to the couch.

“Walk you out?” Eddie asks. He motions for you to head out first, so you do. You open the front door, and he steps out behind you. “He’s a cute kid.”

“Thanks,” you say. The two of you walk to the driveway together and Eddie leans against the van that your car is parked behind.

“But it makes sense, though,” Eddie says. “With a beautiful mom and all.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out from your chest and you look at the ground shyly. You feel the heat go all the way up to the tips of your ears. You’re about to respond by saying he looks more like his dad than he does you, but that might sound like you’re trying to interject Everett’s dad into the conversation as if the two of you are still together.

“Well, thanks,” you say again. You were never particularly good at flirting or being flirted with. Steve often used this to his advantage by flustering you on purpose and the look on Eddie’s face says he might be the kind of guy to do the same thing. “I guess I’m blocking you in. I should get going.”

“Do you often come by here on Saturdays?” Eddie asks as you start to turn away from him. You turn back and give him a smile.

“I’m not here for their DND days. Like I said, I get yelled at. But sometimes Dustin will watch him on Saturdays when I’ve got to head to work. Like today.”

“Libraries are open on the weekends?” Eddie asks.

“Saturday until three, Sunday closed,” you tell him with a shrug. “So, I only have to be there for a little while today.”

“You know, you don’t look like a librarian,” Eddie tells you with a smirk. He crosses his arms over his chest, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I’m not a librarian. I just work there. But out of curiosity, what do librarians look like?” You know you need to leave for work, but you walk over and lean next to Eddie against the van.

He shrugs, his leather jacket creaking with the movement. “You know. Usually old. Hair pulled up in a tight bun on the top of their head. Glasses hanging from a chain around their neck. Old lady sweaters and a permanent scowl on their face.”

You laugh and rest your head back against the van. “You just described my boss pretty well, so you may have a point.” With a sigh, you push yourself off the van. You didn’t want to head to work before, but now you really wish you didn’t have to go. “Um,” you say. You didn’t intend to say anything, but your mouth opened anyway. A lightbulb goes off in your head and you look at Eddie. “Dustin said you work at the garage, right?”

“Sure do.” Eddie nods in confirmation. “The one on Blossom Trail off Highway Eight. Or is it eighteen? I’m new to Hawkins.”

“Oh yeah? Where from?” you ask.

“Over near Evansville. My uncle lives out here, so I thought I’d see what Hawkins is all about,” he says.

“And are you sorely disappointed so far?” you ask with a laugh, gesturing to the quiet, empty street around you.

“Definitely not.” He grins at you again and the butterflies feel as if they may actually bust out of you this time. Eddie watches you get flustered again and you lick over your lips, remembering your initial question for him.

“So, what days do you work this week? I need to bring my car in for an oil change. The light keeps flashing and one of these days the car’s just gonna stop on me altogether.”

“For an oil change?” Eddie raises his eyebrows at you, then shakes his head. “Sweetheart, don’t bring your car in for that. I can do that for free. Save your money.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you say. Handouts were one thing you consistently tried to avoid since you’d found out you were pregnant. You hated feeling like people felt sorry for you when they didn’t need to. Was being a young mom hard? Yeah, but worth it.

“No, come on,” Eddie says. “They’ll charge you fees and taxes and for the labor when I’ve got the oil sitting right in my shed at home. Really, it’s just sitting there. It’ll go bad if it isn’t used.”

You had no idea if that was actually true or not, but Eddie was gambling that you didn’t have the knowledge to call his bluff one way or the other. Eddie’s pleading eyes are what push you over the edge. It seems impossible that here was another man with beautiful brown eyes who knew how to use them against you.

“Okay,” you finally cave. “Sure. I can bring it by your place.”

“Don’t be silly, I can swing by after work one day. You’re a mom, I’m not going to make you come to me and take time away from your kid.”

The thoughtfulness makes you smile. You motion for Eddie to follow you over to your car. He watches as you bend over into the car – his eyes taking their time – to grab your purse. After rifling through it, you pull out a pen.

“I don’t think I have any paper,” you say. Eddie grins and offers you his hand. You chuckle and take his hand in one of yours. There’s the slightest bit of grease stains under his short nails and his fingers are long, his palm large. You scribble your number onto his palm and stick the pen back in your purse. “I usually get home from work about six-thirty on weekdays and Ev goes to bed around eight.”

“I get home around seven, so that’s perfect timing. I’ll call you soon,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Monday if you want,” he says. “Or tomorrow. Hell, I’d call you tonight.”

The bashful grin on your face only makes Eddie want to flirt with and tease you more. It’s addictive in a way he didn’t know possible.

“I’m not sure what my plans are for tomorrow, so Monday works.”

“Monday it is,” Eddie confirms. “Have fun at work.”

“Bye.” You give him a small wave before getting in your car.

Steve had called you at work to say he was picking up Everett from Dustin’s and they’d be home for dinner. So, when you got home you had a precious hour that could have been spent relaxing, but one look around the apartment and you knew it needed to be used for cleaning. Action figures littered the living room carpet, colored pencils scattered about the coffee table, blocks with numbers and letters on them led down the hallway practically waiting for someone to step on them. It had been a while since you had last vacuumed so you figured you might as well get it over with.

It's in the middle of vacuuming Everett’s room that the front door opened and three people entered. Steve puts his finger to his lips to encourage Everett to be quiet as they creep down the hallway towards you. Nancy reaches out and smacks Steve on the back, telling him not to scare you. He shrugs and pretends that he can’t hear her over the vacuum as he follows Everett towards his room.

Normally, it was hard to sneak up on you. Steve had made it his mission to try and scare you way back before you even started dating. He, evidently, passed this trait along to his son as well. Even the vacuum wasn’t enough to keep you from hearing someone coming up behind you. But your mind was wandering as you pushed and pulled the appliance over the blue carpet. Was Eddie just a flirt in general? Or did he like you? Would he actually call on Monday? Was it a big deal if he didn’t? It was just an oil change, after all.

“Rawr!” Little hands grip your thigh, making you jump and let out a squeal. You cut the power to the vacuum and hear Everett giggling madly to himself and he holds your leg even tighter. “Scared you!” There’s laughter coming from the doorway as well and you turn to find Steve leaning against the doorframe, his arms casually across his chest, as if he had nothing to do with this sneak attack.

“What the f-,” you stutter, “fudge, Steve?”

“How did he get away with that when I never could?” Steve asks, referring to the successful scaring.

“Where’s your babysitter?” you snap back at him.

“I’m sorry,” Nancy says, popping in the doorway behind Steve. “I tried to stop him but I think Everett is more mature.”

You smile at Nancy as you scoop Everett up into your arms. “I don’t blame you one bit, Nancy. You’re the only one around here who doesn’t drive me crazy.”

“Hey!” Steve and Everett say at the same time.

“You,” you say, looking at Everett. “It’s dinner time. What would you like?”

“Daddy wants pizza,” he says.

All eyes turn to Steve as he shrugs innocently. “I have no idea how he knows that.”

“You’re paying.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. You set Everett down to follow his father into the kitchen to call for pizza.

Nancy walks into the room and wraps her arm around your shoulders. “You know he’s never going to let it go that he finally scared you?”

“I know.” You sigh and rest your head against hers.

Nancy was always a friend in high school, but never a close one. After Steve and Nancy broke up and Nancy moved on with Jonathan, Steve eventually found you. Becoming friends to more was easy with Steve, but it came with a catch. It was easy to go on fun dates and spend hours talking with Steve. It was easy to drive the younger teens around Hawkins with him, becoming the “mom” to his “dad” in the group – little did you know that those official titles were soon to come. It was easy to trust Steve because you already had as a friend. It was easy to fall into bed with him because you had always found him attractive and kind. What was hard, though, for both of you, was to fall in love. Being together for almost a year, most people assumed you two were madly in love. You definitely loved each other, but both of you knew deep inside it wasn’t the kind of love you should feel for someone you’re in a relationship with.

It was hard, deciding that the two of you should go back to being friends. You were in agreement that it wasn’t fair to one another to stay in a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere. Two weeks after the breakup, in which you two still remained the best of friends, you discovered you were pregnant. Telling Steve was one of the most terrifying moments of your life, though you knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t let you do this alone. What you didn’t expect was how helpful Steve’s mom would be. Not only was she supportive of you and Steve deciding to raise the baby as friends, but she used her connections as the most well-known real estate agent in Hawkins to get you and Steve apartments in the same complex.

Nancy had been away at college while you were pregnant, hearing about the news from her brother who was stunned at there being someone who would be referring to him as “Uncle Mike.” When Nancy came home for summer break, she was elated to meet baby Everett. You were still pretty sure Nancy seeing how gentle and sweet Steve was with the newborn is what led them to getting back together – even battling long distance.

Steve was a little worried this might put tension between the two of you girls, but it was the opposite. Nancy became your closest friend, talking to you on the phone almost as much as she talked to Steve. She loved and cared about Everett but never tried to insert herself as a mother figure in his life. Everett loved playing with Nancy, especially when he saw how well she shot a water gun at his dad. Nancy was now home for the summer, having one more year to go at Emerson. Everett had been a little shy around her when she first came home, having not seen her since Spring Break, but he quickly warmed up and showed her every new toy he had gotten since she’d last seen him.

Everett was thrilled that Nancy was staying just in the next building with his dad. It meant they could go outside and play with his water guns anytime he wanted to. It was sweet to see Steve and Nancy with Everett, but it always left a melancholy taste in your mouth. It just reminded you that Nancy was the only person Steve had ever been in love with, and you had never been in love ever.

“You good?” Nancy asks you, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say. She pulls back and gives you a quizzical look. “What?”

“What is that smile on your face?” she asks. You didn’t even realize you had been smiling and immediately wipe it off your face.

“What, I can’t smile?” But you could feel your cheeks turning pink.

“Not like that,” Nancy says. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you say, though it sounds unconvincing to both of you. Nancy watches as you unplug the vacuum and wind up the cord. You walk past her to put the vacuum back in the hall closet and she follows behind.

“Something happen at work?” she asks with a smirk. Nancy was never nosey, but she could tell something was going on and she knew she could get you to spill.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” You turn to her and shrug, not quite meeting her eyes.

She smiles at you and reaches out to poke you in the ribs. “Oh, come on. You know you want to tell me.”

Glancing down the hallway to make sure the guys were still in the kitchen, you lean in towards Nancy and speak quietly. “Has Mike mentioned a new friend at their DND games?”

Nancy pulls back with a frown, that being far from what she thought would come out of your mouth. “Um, no. But to be fair, Mike doesn’t tell me a whole lot about his life. Why?”

You avoid her eyes as you lean back against the wall, head barely avoiding the framed pictures that hung there. “Well,” you start. “The guys have a new friend who plays DND with them.”

“Like a kid?” Nancy asks.

“Nope.” You shake your head, keeping your eyes on the kitchen doorway down the hall. “Like a guy. About our age.”

“Oh,” Nancy hums in understanding. “And you met him when you dropped by Dustin’s, didn’t you?”

“I did,” you confirm, still not looking at her. Nancy scoffs and grabs your arm, dragging you into your bedroom. She closes the door and rests her back against it.

“Spill,” she says.

You sit down on your bed and can’t help the smile that creeps on your face. “His name is Eddie. He’s going to come by this week and change the oil in my car.”

“Oh, is he now?” Nancy’s eyebrows raise and your face blooms red at the smirk on her face.

“Actual oil in my actual car!” You huff a laugh and rub your hands over your face. “He’s a mechanic. Dustin met him at the garage.”

“Is he cute?” Nancy moves from her spot against the door and sits down next to you on the bed. You bunch the yellow floral blanket in your fingers as you bite back an even bigger grin.

“Very,” you confirm. It feels nice to have a friend to talk about these things with. Yeah, there were girls in high school with you that you talked about boys with, but you were in a very different spot in your life than they were now. And Nancy was here and knew your life well. She’d become the best friend you’d ever had.

“When’s he coming by?”

“I gave him my number and he said he’d call Monday,” you say. You were about to tell her more about the conversation you’d had with Eddie but pounding started raining down on your bedroom door.

“Moooooooommy!”

“What’s up, buttercup?” you call through the door.

“Lemme in!”

“Excuse me?” you ask.

A tiny huff. “Can I come in pleeeease?”

You stand and open the door to find a little boy with a big smile staring up at you.

“Yes, sir?”

“Pizza’s coming!”

“Good. Know what you can do while we wait for it?” you ask.

“What?” he asks.

“Tell your daddy he needs to give you a bath.”

“Huh?” Steve asks, coming up behind Everett. He’s holding an apple with a bite missing and you remember why your son is constantly asking for snacks before dinner. “What do I have to do?” he asks through a mouthful of apple.

“Bath,” Everett says with a sigh.

“What?” Steve says as he looks down at Everett. “Why’d you say that like it’s a bad thing?”

“Boring,” Everett says.

“Nothing’s boring with me, you know that,” Steve tells him. He leans down and throws Everett over his shoulder. The little boy giggles and kicks his legs as Steve carries him to the bathroom.

“Please keep my bathroom dry!” you shout down the hall.

“No promises!” Steve answers.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #bbe

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Note

Could we have octoville reaction to octo merchild misbehaving like attempting to beat them up , trying to escape, thrashing in their arms , and even biting , and even cussing them out and giving the middle finger

Yandere Octorio x Octo Mer Child reader

Children get fussy that’s just a known fact. Even the cruelest and most coldhearted know that children are slaves to their unhinged emotions which can be kicked off by the absence of a nap, not being given their dinosaur nuggies, or not getting to play longer. But only the best guardians know how to handle these kinds of behavior at the very least eliminate the ones that cause it:

Azul Ashengrotto

More than anyone Azul has the greatest authority over you so he claims

You are the mini to his mega octopus status

So when he says your going back to your tank

Your going back to your tank

“Nooooo!”

“Let him go, (Y/n). It’s time to go!”

“Noooooo!”

He didn’t mind that you were getting cozy in Scarabia

It meant getting to keep an eye on Jamil

Kalim was perfect for keeping up with your energy

But Azul notices how your skin gets dry or how sluggish you are returning

You’re not just tired…you’re drying out

On a deeper level, Jade’s discovered that your hybrid status has you needing things a mini octopus needs

You have an extremely thin phlegm that keeps you from drying out

And drinking water is part of it

But with heat like Scarabia’s its best if you spend at least two hours in some actual water

Letting the water give you oxygen through your skin

But for whatever reason, you don’t want to do that

Annoyed with how much time is taken away with putting on and taking off the bathing suit

And the way Jamil demands you sit on the scratchy towels so you don’t make everywhere wet

“Nooooooo! Rgh! Noooo!”

With Kalim’s push, you’ll leave Scarabia

But when you return to Octavinelle Azul gives you some guidelines about going

And when you refuse he thinks aloud about not letting you go at all

he's mostly joking maybe not

And that sets you off

In the middle of the Monstro lounge your flailing, crying causing a huge scene

And like a struggling single mom that’s just trying to wrangle her kid, He’s straining as he pulls you into his office

Away from the invasive stares and curious looks of patrons

When he’s in there he pushes you in your mini tank clipping on the hole-filled top

Which doesn’t move at all despite your little tentacles pulling and banging on the glass

He’ll start working on contracts, counting bills, studying all while ignoring your little tantrum

He waits until it stops, sleeping in your little hidey-hole

Then He cries

Reduced to his baby octopus days he tries to remind himself that his baby just doesn’t want to listen

Not that you really hate him for stopping you from hanging out with someone more fun than him

All the parenting books couldn’t prepare him for this

But when you awake still willing to wrap your little tentacles around his fingers he gains confidence again

“(Y/n)...how about we make a little contract, okay? Just something promising me you’ll always come back, okay?”

“Mmmm okay.”

Jade Leech

“(Y/n) did you hear me? I said you can’t eat these. (Y/n)? Look at me, do you understand?”

You were being a little toad

Pouting and turning away after Jade didn’t let you eat one of the mushrooms he was dissecting

Some may say that previously working on edible mushrooms and giving one to you every other time may have conditioned you to expect it but whatever

You’ve squatted down low and plopped on the cold floor of his club room

Refusing to look at him with your little noises of refusal

He doesn’t mind being ignored…he knows you’ll forget anyway

But what he does have a problem with is when he turns away you’re reaching your tubby hand into his work station

He snatches your little hand using this closeness to grill it into you to listen

“(Y/n). Look at me.”

“Mmmm!”

“(Y/n).”

“Mmm!”

“Fine, then you're going to your tank.”

“Noooooo!”

“Yes.”

He’s dragging you or rather carrying you to your tank

And as he shut whoever’s door to put you away he hears something mumbled under your breath that sets him off

“-old fish. S-upid klunt!”

“...What did you just say?”

He turns his head like those dolls in horror movies

He gets that you were trying to say something else and he will hunt down who you got that from later but for now he’s bringing the hammer down

No one knows what happens when you're being particularly naughty

The best equivalent for what happens is that he commits to emotionally spanking you

a single look portrays that you're in for it

Talking you down until your begging for forgiveness while you nuzzle against his pant leg

He becomes that parent that you know to behave around

And its Azul who uses the most

“I’m going to tell Jade when he gets home!”

“No no! I sorry! No, please don’t tell!”

But in the end Jade is always willing to forgive you

Always willing to genuinely smile as you tearfully apologize before even being reprimanded

“Aww that’s my good octopus, I’m not angry no no no…I was just disappointed…but you did so well to apologize, good job.”

Floyd Leech

“Eh?! Octobaby hasn’t had their nap yet? Ohhh so that’s why you're so snippy!”

He’s down to play with you but he knows it’s a nightmare when your hungry or tired

He knows right now you need a nap

Even if he has to force you to take one

Now Jade says he can’t strangle you to sleep because you're just too fragile

So he just has to lock you in your tank, play your music, and make sure no one interrupts

That’s who he’s allowed to strangle

Even when you’re biting and thrashing in his hold

To be honest he hardly notices

Until your little pincers actually prick him some

“Did you just…bite me…?”

“...n-no..”

“Yes, you did.”

“I-i sorry. I sorry!”

His silence speaks loudest

He’s angry

It just won’t be at you

He’s oddly nurturing putting you to sleep

Then he’s raging at everyone who gets in his way

“Who. The. Heck. Made them miss their nap?!”

He’s not letting anyone hurt you let alone ruin your schedule

There is a schedule for how they take care of you

He actually is really vigilant about it

So he is livid when others come and mess with that

“Octobaby bit me today…”

“Oh did you reprimand them?”

“Nope did it themselves! Besides it was the cutest little prick, if they weren’t acting out I’d want them to do it again!”

#platonic yandere octorio #yandere octorio #yandere platonic #yandere platonic twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere floyd leech #yandere jade #yandere tweels #yandere platonic tweels #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x child reader #yanderes x child reader

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

Text

Keith thinks he might actually sink into his bed, that’s how goddamn tired he is.

It’s just been — such a long day. Painfully long. Keith thought dragging his brother out of Black’s astral plane would make things less stressful, but nooooo. Of course not. That would be too easy. Of course Shiro decides he doesn’t want the Black Paladin title back, and that, actually, he’d like to retire. Of course Keith can in no way find it within himself to force his brother, who only ever wanted to explore, back into the crushing expectations of the leader of the universe’s strongest weapon.

So. It’s just — a lot.

There weren’t even any missions today. Honestly, Keith prefers mission days — they’re a one-and-done kind of deal. You fly into battle, you think you’re gonna die, you panic about your friends dying, usually no one dies, you either complete the mission or you don’t, you go home. Of course there’s the soul crushing terror and overuse of energy that comes at the price of actual genuine years off his life, but that’s so clearly a Future Keith problem. Once Keith parks Black into the hangar he can Stop Thinking About it, except of course for the horrifying and endless nightmares.

But all this planning shit is horrendous.

First of all, Keith is an action guy. An investigation guy too, sometimes, if there is conspiracy involved (and/or some fuckass has challenged him in any way no matter how minuscule), but what he is not is a tactician guy. A planning guy. That kind of shit is for people who have crippling anxiety and are plagued with constant thoughts about how everything can and will go wrong. That’s why it’s a job for Lance. And Allura. And Hunk. And Shiro.

But not Keith. Keith prefers to walk blindly into dangerous situations and deal with whatever is thrown at him after. Black Paladin Keith, however, motherfucker that he is, has to sit down in meetings for a thousand hours and listen to people argue and try not to wish death and curses upon a myriad of irritating Coalition leaders and allies.

Keith needs a goddamn nap.

Not even bothering to take off his boots, and ignoring the Lance-shaped voice in his head squawking about how disgusting that is, Keith stuffs his face into his pillow, reaching blindly for a blanket and yanking it up to his ears. He is going to Sleep, goddamnit. He is going to keep his comm where it is, stuffed under his mattress, and pass the hell out, to be woken only by some terrible and glorious act of God herself. The universe and all its associates can take an hour to kindly piss the hell off and leave Keith alone.

A knock sounds on his door.

Keith screams. Loudly.

“Keith?” calls a voice, muffled through the doorway, and of course it is the one person in the entire world who Keith has never and will never be able to say no to.

“Hnnnnnngh,” Keith responds. He actually tears up, a little.

The door slides open. Hunk pokes his head in, smile sweet and guilty and hopeful.

“I’m going to swallow engine oil,” Keith anguishes.

“Maybe don’t,” Hunk suggests lightly.

Keith groans again, shoving his head back into the pillow. Hunk patiently waits for Keith to get his shit together enough to lift his head again. Probably because he knows he’s more effective if he can manipulate Keith via facial expressions. Ugh. Keith should ask if he can return his friends. Get store credit, maybe. It’s not worth it.

Hunk smiles sunnily when Keith manages to pull away from his pillow, proving his point. Keith scowls extra hard at him.

“I am busy, Hunk.”

“I need parts,” he pleads, hands pressed together and under his chin. “Pretty pretty please.”

“You have a lion that you can pilot yourself!”

“I need the parts for the lion. Duh.”

Keith groans again. He should say no. He probably can say no. If it was urgent, Coran would be flying the castle for the parts. Hunk is coming to Keith because he knows damn well that Keith is a sucker with a saviour complex. Keith is not going to give in this time.

…Except he is so. Because he is a sucker with a fucking saviour complex.

Fuck.

“You’re bumped down to third favourite,” Keith grouches, rolling off the bed and allowing himself three seconds to sprawl on the floor.

“Yeah, right,” Hunk snorts.

Keith growls. Hunk, wisely, chooses against anymore teasing or commentary, deciding instead to quickly back away and head back down to his workshop.

“Okay thanks Keith bye! Love you bunches!”

Keith rolls his eyes, fighting off the smile that traitorously wants to fight it’s way across his lips, and reaches for his comm to get the details of Hunk’s errand.

“I am going to fucking bite him,” he says, carefully controlled, as he reads the message.

MISSION SHOULD YOU ACCEPT: get parts for hunk because you love him so

OBJECTIVE: obtain 174g of Noxalian black ore (pure as possible)

PEOPLE NECESSARY: two so you should take lance probably ;)

LOCATION: Noxalia-1242

DANGER LEVEL: like -2 but you’re so whipped for lance that it probably brings it up to like a 12 lol. loser

He’s red in the ears and it’s goddamn annoying, is what it is, because these are official mission documents, Hunk, which means they are technically public Coalition information once the mission has been completed. Public.

Hunk is the worst out of all of them for that. He actually had the highest record of diplomatic incidents caused, because he is actually physically incapable of keeping his comments to himself and this can, as one might anticipate, offend a large number of people.

But since he is a good fucking friend (the best, maybe) especially because his friends are class four menaces who do not deserve it in the slightest, Keith drags himself away from his bedroom and towards the materials room, where he knows Lance is.

He makes his frustration known.

Despite the fact that he was stomping like a petulant child and Lance has ears akin to the sonar receptors of a Navy submarine, Lance doesn’t react when he comes into the room, hunched as he is over a project of his.

Keith stops short. He grins wickedly, mood suddenly shifted.

Oh ho.

Oh ho ho.

Quieter, now, although he knows it doesn’t matter, Keith creeps towards the Red Paladin. He makes sure his footfalls are soundless and soft, just like he was taught by the Blades, and his body is directly behind Lance, in the blind spot of his peripheral vision. He focuses on the chair Lance is sitting on rather than his actual person so as to not envoy the feeling of being stared at. And quietly, quietly, he sneaks up behind him.

“RAH!” he shouts, seizing Lance’s shoulders and shaking them. Lance shrieks at the top of his lungs, jumping twelve cubic meters into the air, flailing wildly and sending his sketchbook flying at Keith’s face. Lance’s aim, as it always is, rings true, and the spine of the heavy book nails Keith directly on the bridge of his nose.

“Ow!” Keith yells, pain made worse by the heaving gasps of his laughter.

“¡Chingada madre de cráneo grueso!” Lance screams, hand pressed to his chest, and then, for Keith’s benefit, continues: “You mother fucker! You backwards, tumbleweed-guzzling, sand-eating, cow-fucking son of a minotaur! I’ll fucking get you! I’ll fucking — crush you to death! Come closer, Kogane, I swear to God I’ll wreck your shit —”

Breathless, weak, and wheezing, there’s nothing Keith can do to avoid Lance’s menacing advancing. He can’t even summon the strength to lift his arms to defend himself from Lance’s smacking. He just sits there, taking it, laughing harder every time he remembers just how fucking high Lance had jumped.

“You fucking — stop fucking laughing! Asshole!”

Lance’s expression is only growing more murderous. His mouth is pulled back in a snarl and he sure are shit isn’t pulling his punches. The only thing assuring Keith that he’s not genuinely about to die, curled on the floor, completely devoid of dignity, is the ever-present warmth in Lance’s brown eyes, even as they’re narrowed in fury.

“I — I’m sorry,” Keith wheezes, loosely wrapping his hands around Lance’s ankle as he kicks him. “Please. Oh my God. Stop. I cant breathe.”

“I hope you suffocate!” Lance shrieks.

“Lance, please,” Keith begs. With more strength than he knew he had, Keith heaves a giant, calming breath, shoving the image of Lance’s face as he’d practically flipped off the chair far into the recesses of his mind. Fuck. “I’m sorry. You were so focused. I couldn’t resist.”

Lance huffs. He kicks Keith one last time for prosperity before plopping on the floor next to him, scowl still affixed to his face, but lips twitching with a clear attempt to keep it there.

“I’m allowing your amusement because I laughed today when Senator Grmsx called you a toad. But watch your back.”

“Noted,” Keith says with amusement. He sighs, breath shuddering with the last of his laughter, and stretches out, sliding his feet under Lance’s thighs and resting the back of his skull on the floor. He stares at the ceiling until his vision gets unfocused and blurry, making the glowing blue streaks warp and swirl. He smiles slightly when he feels Lance’s arm hook around his bent knees.

“I got conned,” he laments, flipping his arms behind his head.

Lance hums. “Hunk?”

“Yep.”

“Capitalised on your intense need to do things for your friends to send you on errands?”

“Mhm.”

“Sucks to suck.”

Keith tucks his folded hands under his head and looks up at Lance, smiling in a mirror to Hunk, earlier, sweet and guilty and hopeful. “Well…”

Lance pulls away, waving his hands. “Nuh-uh. No way. You’re not dragging me into your shit, Superman. You want to help everyone around you like the tryhard golden retriever you are, that’s a you problem. I’m a bitch on purpose so I can be errand-free.”

“Please?” Keith tries, batting his eyelashes. The thirteen year old version of himself in his head is dying of embarrassment. (Good. He can suffer for a bit. He used to insist on sleeping on the floor because sleeping on a bed was ‘too mainstream’.)

Lance glares at him. Keith can actually physically see his resolve breaking. He’s very smug about it.

“Ugh,” Lance says.

“Thank you,” Keith says, smirking.

“Ugh,” Lance says again, much more pointed. “Where are we even going?”

Keith climbs to his feet, offering a hand to pull Lance up, too. He stretches and shifts his shoulders, leading them both out of the material room and down to the hangars.

“Noxalia-1242. Hunk needs some kind of ore.”

Lance gasps, dropping Keith’s hand. It is then that Keith realises that they were holding hands, and chokes on his own spit.

“Noxalia-1242? You sure?”

“Yes,” Keith rasps, still dying. Lance doesn’t notice, beaming so wide his eyes are nearly forced shut. He lets out this shout of excitement and wiggles, a little, like he can’t contain himself, and it’s so fucking cute that Keith somehow chokes again, which he didn’t think was possible. There’s a genuine concern that he may pass away.

“You should’ve led with that! Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

He sprints the rest of the way to Black’s hangar, dragging Keith along. Keith tries desperately to get ahold of himself. It works about 27%, which is way more than he was expecting.

Lance is practically bouncing in glee the entire trip, scrambling out of his seatbelt and twirling around the cabin the second they breach the castle’s orbit. He’s actually humming to himself. Keith’s grinning so wide it hurts, and he doesn’t even know why they’re excited. Lance is just — infectious, as he always is; bright and all-encompassing and sparkling.

It’s a struggle and a half to land, and not just because Lance is being distracting. (Or, well, that Keith is distracted by him. It’s not really Lance’s fault. Keith was once distracted by Lance yawning, for reasons he’s too embarrassed to admit even to himself.) The surface of the planet is slate grey and thick with swirling, furious clouds, and it’s a testament to Black’s power that they manage to stay mostly steady, because Keith is a good pilot but he well and truly can’t see shit. The landing is rough.

“C’mon, c’mon!” Lance urges, out of his seatbelt faster than Keith can blink and rushing him to get out of his. “Let’s go!”

“I’m coming, Jesus,” Keith mumbles, finally releasing that damn buckle. He has to sprint to keep up with Lance, following him to the slowly opening hatch.

When they get to the open door, Keith is assaulted with a gust of frigid air and a spray of water. He curses, ducking to the side, hiking his collar over his head so he doesn’t get too soaked. He wishes he’d known to bring his armour.

“Fuck, it’s — pouring!”

Lance laughs, delighted, and before Keith can even think to stop him he sprints down the ramp, into the rain, soaked to the bone immediately.

“Lance! Lance — come back here! What are you doing?!”

But Lance only laughs again, and Keith can’t hear it because of a roar of thunder but he can see it in the giant grin on Lance’s face, open-mouthed, and the way he squeezes his eyes shut and tips his head back and opens his arms to the skies like he’s worried the rain isn’t soaking enough of him.

“You’re going to get pneumonia, you anaemic dumbass!” Keith shouts.

“Come join me!” Lance shouts back.

The worst part is that Keith doesn’t even think.

He stumbles down the ramp without even a second of hesitation, before he’d even realized he’d moved, cursing the whole time, shocked with the sudden onslaught of cold and windy and wet. There’s something about the way Lance said it, not come out here not it’s just rain, dorkus not come get wet!, but come join me. Like it’s not about the rain but about the rain with Lance.

The very iron in Keith’s blood is pulled to him like the world’s strongest magnet.

“If I wanted to get soaked for no reason I’d jump in the pool fully clothed,” Keith grumbles, but there’s a breathless quality to his voice that cannot he muffled.

For the first time since he sprinted out of Black like a madman, Lance tears his face away from the heavens, looking at Keith with eyes that seem impossibly dark with from the reflection of the clouds, almost black as the storm.

“You hate the rain?”

“Yes!” Keith says emphatically, but he hears his own voice like a distant echo, far away. Lance’s laughter is bright and feels louder than the thunder, like clinking gold bangles. Keith’s heart drops to his stomach and his eyes go wider than planets.

Lance turns, slowly, hands still spread wide, face easy and open and peaceful in a way Keith has never seen on him, turned back up the the pelting rain, every droplet doing something to him that makes him glow.

“How could anyone hate the rain?”

Suddenly, wholly, breathlessly, Keith doesn’t. His collar slides from his slackened fingers and flops back over his neck, soaked through. His hair plasters to his forehead and it’s wet and cold and water drips directly into his eyes but suddenly he is warmed from the very centre of himself, ricocheting outwards.

“It’s breathtaking,” Keith finally admits, and he is, this son of the skies, this boy of the rain. He is the most breathtaking thing Keith has ever seen in his life.

He swallows, tilts his head up to the sky, and smiles.

———

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kittyball23 · 6 months

Text

Moments (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: There were times, no doubt - even as much as he tried not to think about them - that some kind of event would make Branch remember his long-gone brothers

__________________________________________

“Oh, hey, Branch… just wondering if I could borrow something….”

Branch raised an eyebrow at Poppy, thoroughly confused. “What?”

“Your bunker!”

Before he could ask what she meant, dozens upon dozens of Trolls who had not been captured by the Chef Bergen came tumbling down the sloping tunnel that led down into his bunker. Some squealed in delight as they slid down, and as soon as they’d reached the bottom began to ransack the place, grabbing the food and drinks that were there.

“No! No! Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!” Branch called out. But nobody was listening. He groaned, knowing that there would be a lot of cleanup to do to his brothers’ rooms once they were all gone and out of there. And they would be, if he could help it. But first, he had to talk to the pink princess, who had brought all the Trolls in there without his permission in the first place.

__________________________________________

Finally, Branch thought, observing the stunned look on Poppy’s face that was an expression other than the smiles and laughs she’d had for the past hour.

He turned away from her, continuing the trek through the forest and avoiding staring too long at the hurt that was in her eyes. He ignored the little feeling inside of him that made him feel bad for what he’d said, and vouched to listen to the side of him that had dominated his survivalist lifestyle. It’s the truth, he reasoned. And if she doesn’t like it, that’s her problem.

Poppy soon recovered and scurried up to his side in an effort to defend herself. “Hey! I know it’s not all cupcakes and rainbows, but I’d rather go through life thinking that it mostly is, instead of being like you.” She frowned slightly at him and vented the frustrations she had in her failure to get him to be a part of the Troll community. “You don’t sing. You don’t dance. You’re so gray all the time! What happened to you?”

Branch had to suppress a snort. You don’t know the HALF of it, he wanted to say. And Poppy didn’t need to know his business. She didn’t need to know what happened to his grandmother, or even before that event, when his four older brothers had picked up and left, leaving him to fend for himself with hardly a fair reason why. It had been his first taste of the real world and its cruelty. Something that Poppy clearly hadn’t been exposed to. But Branch knew better than to go make his comment and stir even more questions from the curious princess. He held up a hand and suddenly hushed her. “SHH!”

Poppy halted, her fuchsia eyes wide. “Bergen?” she asked.

“Maybe,” he whispered back.

It was only a few moments later, when Branch proceeded and when nothing ominous seemed to be lurking in the shadows, did Poppy realize what was really going on.

“There’s no Bergen, is there? You just said that so I’d stop talking!”

Branch stopped to answer once again. “Maybe.”

__________________________________________

Who does this guy think he is? Branch’s inner thoughts growled.

He and Poppy were wasting valuable time, standing here and putting up with this cloud dude’s antics. If Poppy really cared about the safety of her friends, then she’d see how pointless this whole thing was. But nooooo. She had to be there, off to the side, giggling at Branch’s perplexion and at how the socked cloud was snickering.

Yeah… he’s getting socked by the time THIS is over, Branch thought, and this time he wasn’t speaking of the cloud’s article of clothing.

Since the high-five had failed to follow through, Branch was now forced to implement a fist-bump. But he should have known better than to believe it was going to be that easy. As soon as Branch began moving his fist forward, Cloud Guy reacted with a series of hand motions that were literally anything EXCEPT the fist-bump that he himself had wanted to do. Branch was far too baffled to be mad when it was happening, having no clue what a ‘shark attack,’ ‘hand sandwich,’ ‘monkey in a zoo,’ and whatever other nonsense the cloud was saying even was… and thinking of a certain yellow-haired prankster who just might.

But the fleeting thought of his older, jokey brother vanished when Branch felt his arm hauled roughly from side to side, while Cloud Guy made engine-like sounds. “BRRRM! VRRRM! BRRRRRM! BRUUM!”

Then, he did something that made Branch’s patience wear even thinner than it already was. He laughed, an obnoxious, chortling laugh. And Poppy laughed, too!

“Okay, okay, okay,” Cloud Guy said, recomposing himself. “Now I’m thinking we hug.”

There went the last straw.

With a scowl, Branch grabbed a stick, broke it in half, and aimed the sharp ends at Cloud Guy with a menacing look in his eyes.

Cloud Guy finally seemed to get the message.

He stood there with his outstretched hands, turning a thundercloud-gray and raining a puddle of fear on the ground. He was in for it now.

With a shout, Branch gave chase, with Poppy running after him in alarm.

“Branch! No! Wait! He’s just a cloud! He can help us! He’s just a cloud! Run, Cloud Guy, RUN!”

__________________________________________

Here she was, at it again. Only this time, Poppy was refusing to drop the subject, and Branch couldn’t think of a way to divert the topic. She was being very blunt with him, and it was driving him up the wall.

“You have to sing,” she insisted.

“I told you, I don’t sing,” he argued.

“Well, you have to.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” They could go back and forth like this all day for all Branch cared.

Poppy frowned at him. “You can. You just won’t.”

“Fine. I just won’t,” Branch grumbled stubbornly.

“You have to!” she cried.

“NO!”

“Why not! Why won’t you sing?” Poppy demanded.

“Because singing killed my grandma, okay!” Branch finally blurted. He turned his face away from her and the rest of the Snack Pack who’d gasped at this revelation, so that they couldn’t see the tears forming in his eyes. “Now leave me alone…”

Poppy had gotten her answer, but even as he asked to have his space, he had known that she wouldn’t just stop there. Thankfully, her approach was less pestering than it had been a few seconds ago. She cautiously approached him, and spoke in a soft voice.

“How did singing kill your grandma?” Poppy asked. Then, even more confused, added, “What song was she singing?”

Branch sighed. “I was the one singing…” he admitted, hanging his head in shame as the horrible images flashed through his mind. Of how tall and ominous the Chef had looked when snatching his Grandma. Of her terrified face, fearful at first for nearly coming to lose her only remaining grandson, and then fearful for the fate that awaited her in the Bergen’s stomach. He’d turned gray once he’d come to the awful realization that nobody – not his parents, not his brothers, nor his Grandmother – were there with him anymore.

Poppy felt terrible hearing his abridged version of the memory, and she’d leaned in to give him a hug.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s not Hug Time,” he said, a little half-heartedly and not making any moves to shove her away.

“I just thought you could use one,” she replied, pressing him a little tighter against her.

While Branch didn’t allow the smirk that wanted to tug at the corner of his lip to show, he still did kind of enjoy the condolence that her hug brought.

Heh, his conscience even chuckled, I guess she does know the half of it, now.

But Branch would make sure not to have her find out the second half of his story until much, much later. His brothers were not relevant to the conversation. And, considering it from the point of view of Poppy and the Snack Pack, they probably sought it as a suitable enough explanation for his pessimism.

So Branch just let it be.

__________________________________________

Survivalism meant having plenty of tactics handy. So killing two birds with one stone, so to speak, was a very beneficial strategy. And it was working oh so very well for Branch as he, in a heartfelt manner, whispered elegant words from atop of Bridget’s head.

“Your eyes… they’re like two pools so deep, I fear if I dive in, I may never come up for air…”

Bridget repeated the words, a little hesitantly, to King Gristle, who sat across from her with a frown on his face, believing that she had been intent on mocking him before. As he heard her speak, however, his frown disappeared, and the Bergen was enraptured by the sudden compliments she was giving him.

Or, so it seemed. Branch was guiding her alright, but it wasn’t King Gristle who’d he had in mind when he was speaking. It was a certain Pop Princess, who, at that moment, was staring in awe at Branch as he continued.

“And your smile… the sun itself turns jealous and refuses to come out from behind the clouds, knowing it cannot shine half as bright…”

King Gristle chuckled bashfully when Bridget had finished repeating those words. “I kinda do have a nice smile, don’t I?”

Branch’s gaze shifted to Poppy, whispering the next words as he looked directly at her.

“Yes, you do.”

If Branch squinted his eyes, he could’ve sworn he saw Poppy blush, but the dim lighting underneath Bridget’s rainbow-colored wig was making it a little difficult to see all that well. There was a warmth tingling through him, one that he recognized would blossom whenever he thought of the princess, only it was more pronounced this time around. Had he really said those words out loud? He couldn’t help wondering which one of his brothers would be prouder – Spruce, for coming off as so incredibly romantic and likely winning Poppy over with his charming flattery, or Floyd, for how poetically crafted his words were. Either way, it had produced the exact effect that Branch had wanted.

__________________________________________

Branch flinched at the loud, bellowing sound that came out of the large creature standing before them. A second later, Poppy revealed herself from the inside of it, hanging casually and giving a cheery little greeting wave. Normally, a sight like this would have startled the blue Troll, but the fact that the queen did not show any fear at being in the mouth of the beast - and neither did any of their other friends - relaxed him a bit.

Because this mode of transportation was known as a caterbus, a hybrid living-vehicle sort of being that was perfectly safe to travel inside of.

Branch scrunched his nose. He didn’t mind the creatures that nature had… so long as they were smaller than him. Once they started getting bigger than the standard 5-inch height that Trolls had, he had his reservations. He supposed it was his former fear of Bergens at work. He could never shake off what could have happened if he’d not arrived in time for when the spiders had Poppy wrapped inside their silk.

Not that any of it would have bothered his oldest brother.

Branch rolled his eyes as John Dory’s face suddenly came into mind. With JD’s love for animals, he believed himself to be a whisperer to any creature, big or small. If Branch had to take a guess, John Dory probably had a pet of his own by this point (or several).

But he wasn’t going to guess about what his airheaded brother was doing.

If anything, he was going to take a guess at what Bridget and Gristle’s reactions would be when they learned of Poppy’s crazy idea to give the Bergens a proper holiday!

“Alll aboooard!” Poppy called out, and he and the Snack Pack took it at their cue hop into the caterbus and get this wagon train rolling.

Or rather, the love train.

__________________________________________

Branch shook his head, tilting it to one side and smacking it with his hand as though there was water clogged up in his ears. “Okay, maybe all the jazz hasn’t left my brain yet,” he mumbled, knowing just how out of sorts he’d been when the smooth musical notes had assaulted him on the raft with its soothing melody.

Cooper just laughed at him. “Oh, come on, Branch! It’s me!” the long-necked Troll assured. “Turns out I’m actually from Vibe City, just like my twin brother.” Cooper sidled up to the identical-looking Troll who’d been causing Branch to think that he was still hallucinating.

“What’s poppin’?” Prince Darnell greeted with a grin, as he and Cooper laughed with each other.

“I’ve got a twin brother!” Cooper exclaimed happily. He really couldn’t believe it!

Neither could Branch, who stood there gawking for a moment more while his gaze flicked between the two, back and forth, like a ping pong ball.

And neither could Poppy, who blurted out with “How is this possible?!”

Luckily, Cooper took the next few minutes explaining exactly how. And in the end, Branch found that it was a story of long-lost family coming to finally reunite, happily and heartily, together – at least, if any of the laughs and hugs shared between brothers, mother and father (aka, the King and Queen of Funk) was anything to go by.

Branch watched with a strange pang of envy that was very subtly in the back of his conscience, but still very much present. Envy for how… easy they made it look. Granted, though, Cooper’s story was different. It couldn’t be helped that he’d gotten snatched as an egg, carried off far from his homeland, and therefore separated for just about two whole decades.

A family reunion with his brothers, who had willingly ensured the separation, would be much different…

__________________________________________

Dance off?

Branch hardly had a minute to even think about what was about to happen before the K-Pop gang had hurled him over to them, untying him and promptly starting to bust some moves all around.

Branch was surprised by the sudden change in lighting, and the bouncy, foreign-sounding music that the five girls were making. The K-Pop leader had been right – Pop music was different from K-Pop. Branch didn’t have much time to start nitpicking the specific differences, as Wani shot him a hard glare, making him realize that they’d actually untied him so that he could join in their dance!

Flustered, Branch quickly plastered on a smile and began to groove along with them, surprising himself with how quickly he was able to pick up the choreography. By the time he and the quintet struck the final pose, the smile that he’d had on his face was real.

Wow… was it always this fun dancing in a group?

As if the universe had heard his question, it readily provided an answer when the Reggaeton Troll leader, Tressillo, suddenly grabbed him and hauled him over to their side of the clearing, starting to dance to their own unique beat. Now that Branch actually knew what was happening, he got into the flow much faster, and really was enjoying himself as he kept in time with the other three, shaking his hips and getting down with it.

Ooo, yeah! It really was still fun dancing in a group! They weren’t the exact type of moves that he, John Dory, Spruce, Clay, and Floyd would’ve done if they’d been performing for a BroZone show, but it didn’t matter. He liked the differences… and wished that the bounty hunters would see it the same way, instead of tying him back up and debating the matter.

“Why don’t we split him?” Wani suddenly suggested.

“Huh?” Branch gulped when he saw Tressillo agree to the idea. Just as they were about to close in and divvy him up, he managed to find his voice.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait… why does Barb get to decide which music gets to be saved? All music should be saved.”

The K-Pop and Reggaeton Trolls gave him a blank look. Then, Tressillo spoke.

“All right, Pop Troll, I’m listening…”

__________________________________________

By definition, Branch could absolutely say he was sprucin’ up.

Not that he’d use the term. Why would he, when it brought bad reminders of one purple-haired Troll who’d shared his name with the phrase?

Branch hurriedly focused on preparing himself for the occasion, which - he was quite giddy to tell anyone who would ask him once he’d leave the bunker - would be a date with the Pop Queen herself!

He slipped on his vest, shrugging it on his shoulders in a way that he felt to be ‘cool,’ like John Dory may have done.

He tugged on his new burgundy shorts with just about as much enthusiasm as Clay might’ve pulled off in the days that he actually enjoyed wearing the yellow-and-green Funderdrawers.

He fixed his Hug Time bracelet on his wrist, and adjusted a brand-new red bowtie on his neck, recalling how Floyd would’ve taken the same careful measures when clipping on his own accessory, namely, the pearl earring he’d constantly worn.

Last but not least, Branch grabbed a handful of snail-slime goop from a jar, and sleeked it into his dark blue hair, making as shiny and smooth as Spruce himself would have approved of.

Determinedly snapping on some earmuffs and clutching a fresh handful of flowers, he faced the chill afternoon air outside of his bunker with determination.

“Tis the season!”

__________________________________________

A/N: Alright everyone, this will actually be my last daily fic update for the time being. Stay tuned for an announcement that I'll be posting to my blog tomorrow! :)

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #branch trolls #poppy trolls #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #brozone #broppy #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #brodacious fanfiction #100+

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raynehmms · 11 months

Text

You hated arguing but sometimes Connie just brings that part out of you that you don’t want anyone to see. “Nigga why are you trippin? You always on so extra shit bro.” You your phone on the counter, you just coming from your once a week maintenance day. Which includes getting your hair done, nails, eyebrows, everything to make you feel pretty. But unfortunately a certain person is mad because they didn’t get the attention they wanted…which sounds like a them problem, because you offered them to come with when you got your nails and eyebrows done. But nooooo he wants to wine instead of taking the offer you gave. “How am I extra cuz I wanna spend time witchu?” “Because I gave you options to come with me but you didn’t. How is that my problem? I do this shit like twice a month and you never complain.” As you’re talking you take your shoes off and set them by your door trying not to get too angry at him after your amazing and relaxing day. “I don’t want to do that stupid ass shit I wanna sit at home and chill but you always out the house.” You grab the phone offended. “Dude you act like I ain’t offer to do that shit when I came home. But no you hung up on me and had a whole attitude for no reason.” “You don’t understand. I always make time for you but you never do the same.” You don’t show any emotion on your face at this but you can clearly hear his anger laced in his tone. “Oh really? Bet.” You press the red x button at the top of your phone ending the call and walking away from your phone mumbling you stupid he is. Meanwhile he stares at the phone in disbelief. After his initial shock he gets up and puts clothes on “I cannot believe this shit bruh.” He leaves his house damn near speeding the whole way and most definitely running through a couple of red lights. While he’s doing that you sit at home the situation not bothering you at all as you sit inside your bed after your hot shower. Later hearing a knock on the door you get up and look through the peep hole rolling your eyes you open the door. “Yes?” “You gon let me in?” “You gon ask? Or just demand shit like you live here?” “Can I come in.” You open the door wider and move out the way as she steps in and takes his shoes off. “Why are you here? I thought you had an attitude?” “Nah ion got no attitude. I just wanted to spend time with you but you always gon sun going on.” At this you look at him with a really face. “I’m busy all the time? I want busy yesterday or the day before that. Yet where were you? Oh right working. So please fuck out my face with yo bull shit.” You walk away and sit in the couch not even sparing him a glance. “When was I every busy?” He sits down next to you. Burning a hole in the side of your face. “ when I tried texting and calling you and you didn’t answer. If anybody was a reason to be mad I should be me. But I hope you know better. So I trust you ain’t do jk stupid shit.” He looks at you and sighs siting back on the couch and coving his eyes with his arm, you assuming he’s thinking about the argument. “You right. You do this shit more than twice a month. I was wrong my bad.” You hmm acknowledging his apology but not saying anything. “Don’t do that shit again. Was being dramatic for no reason.” He rolls his eyes and scoots closer to you laying his head over your lap, his arm still draped over his eyes as he lets the warmth of your presence and the silence of the room lull him to sleep.

#connie x black y/n #connie x black reader #connie springer #aot connie #black reader #black yn

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eddieboi23 · 1 year

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May I request Enid sinclair x female reader that has wings like a raven and It's easiest to wash them when it rains so they're just in a tree somewhere

Silly bird

Enid Sinclair x fem! bird reader

(Wendnesday)

Summary: you’re a bird(raven) person who washes their wings in the rain, so what?

(Y/n)=your name

“This is talking”

Requested by: @fangedreject

(Sorry this is shitty, life stuff happens yk… hope you like it though)

————————-———————————

You never found it easy to wash your wings in the shower, that were always too big….soooo… you did it in the rain.

Technically it was just, rinsing them, but you don’t want anyone to wash them for you, they are too sensitive to have scrubbed.

Today was wing cleaning day, because it was going to rain!

You hop around, excited as your wings flutter.

You love the rain and it was never a problem, you’d just go out in the forest in your swimsuit.

You’ve done it’s for years, and no one really knows, besides Weems.

And now your dating enid sinclair, the most nosey and gossipy girl in the school.

You’re mostly scared if she writes it on her blog, people will make fun of you, so you haven’t told her.

—-

You don’t tell enid where you’re going, or that you’re even going somewhere, and sneaks out of the school just before the rain starts.

You run to the woods with a towel around your neck, then you “gracefully” climb a tree and perch it it, wings spread out a bit.

It’s starts raining shortly after.

You smile as the cold rain hits your face, and your wings puff up and flutter, they seem to enjoy it as much as you do.

You get so into it you almost fall a few times, nether less you bask in this moment.

The color rain on your dusty wings feels amazing.

—-

(Pov change: enid)

Iv looked for Y/N all over the school, I haven’t seen her at all!

She always tells me where she goes, wednesday doesn’t seem to know.

I’m stating to freak out, I’m gonna look for her in the forest. I hope the Hyde didn’t hurt her….

I hope she’s ok, it’s raining really hard!

—-

Your happily bobbing up and down in the rain, with your wings flapping and puffed up.(i have a pet bird Iv seen them bathe LOL)

Then, all of a sudden you hear a snap and look down. And there’s your girlfriend enid, staring right back.

You freeze with a “oh shit” look on your face.

Enid stares for a second then squeaks. “Oh my gosh, you’re so,, cuteeeee!”

You fluster immediately. “Stop talking!!!”

Enid jumps and giggles. “You’re like a Little bird taking a bath!!!”

You groan, and suddenly she takes a picture of you.

You gasp and squawk, “DEleTE thAt!”

She smirk mischievous, not even caring that she’s soaking wet from the rain. “NEVER it’s my new Lock Screen of my bird gf.

“Nooooo-“ you start, then she starts running, “IM GONNA SHOW WEDNESDAY TOO!”

“NOOO ENID NO” you scream as you “gracefully” get fall out of the tree and chase her.

—-

Long story short, the whole school knows now, and they actually just found it cute, much to your unknown dismay.

Some students stumble apon you, but now you Enid comes with you to “protect you” from prying eyes.

#bird reader #bird y/n #enid x y/n #enid sinclair x reader #enid x you #enid x reader #enid sinclair #enid sinclair x fem reader #enid emma myers #emma myers x reader #enid wednesday #enid fanfic #raven y/n #wednesday

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

Nightowl (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: eeeever so slightly suggestive thing near the end

Synopsis: Eddie wakes up in the middle of the night to find that his girlfriend still hasn’t slept

Y/N notes: smaller than Eddie

Request for an Anon! As a night owl this one spoke to me

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“Y/N?” Eddie said in his groggy half awake voice. He propped himself up on his elbows and squinted to the other side of the room. Y/N was sat in front of their TV. The light from the screen making him able to see her. She turned to him.

“Shit sorry Eds did I wake you?” She asked softly. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

“No no it’s fine. What are you doing?” He asked, sitting up properly.

“Watching a movie.”

“What time is it?”

“Like 3am?”

“Don’t you have work at 7?”

“Yeah but that’s future Y/N’s problem.” Eddie rolled his eyes and flopped his head back down on the pillow.

“Ugh why are you making me the responsible one?” He reluctantly pulled the blanket off of himself and got out of bed, making his way over to his girlfriend. He turned the tv off.

“Hey! Wha-“ Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off of the floor.

“Come on it’s time for bed.”

“Nooooo I’m not even sleepy yet!” Y/N jokingly whined like an annoying little kid, making Eddie chuckle. He dropped her on the bed and got back in on his side.

“Future Y/N will thank me for this.” Y/N groaned, staring up at the ceiling.

“Well present Y/N thinks you’re boring.” She huffed. “I hate that you’re right.”

“When am I not?” Y/N laughed, making Eddie grin. She turned on her side and waved her arm around trying to find him in the dark.

“Where are you?” She hit him in the face. “There you are.”

“Yeah thanks for that.” Eddie said sarcastically as they both snuggled closer.

“You’re welcome.” He wrapped his arm around Y/N as she hid her face in his neck.

“Now go to sleep.”

“But what if instead we-“

“We are going to sleep.”

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“That wandering hand of yours is saying enough. Go. To. Sleep.” Y/N sighed.

“Fine. But just so you know I was up for anything tonight and you missed out.” Eddie chuckled, knowing she was just trying to rile him up. “Goodnight Eds. Love you.” She said, muffled into his pyjama shirt.

“Love you too Y/N.”

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#eddie munson #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #st eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #edddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #stranger things imagine #stranger things spoilers

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