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carolmunson · 8 months

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the cars that go boom | (daddydom!sadist!eddie)

this fic isn't related to the title song reference at all, it's just stuck in my head. needed to get this out of my drafts so here's some ddlg themed sadist eddie that's been sitting in my draft folder for fucking ever and i'm sick of looking at it. tw: 18+ mdni ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, eddie being all over a cocky shit bag hottie who likes control but it's consensual, use of a vibrating toy. lots of allusions to other sex.

You watch him get out of the bathroom after his shower, tattoos stretched taught over softly cut muscles. You almost drool. He tried something new with you this week, an orgasm ban -- nearly a sex ban -- in fact, he didn't even want you to see his dick. And much like he always does when he finds a new way to torture you; he was feeling really pleased with himself about it.

'That's more than you deserve,' he hissed at you Monday night while you knelt obediently between his legs. He pet your hair while you watched TV and he jerked himself off, you were not allowed to turn around until he was finished. You pouted all night, and when it happened the next day you started pouting all week. But, the week was over, which meant your punishment was done. You'd spent all day getting ready, a long shower, smooth skin, body butter, his favorite perfume, everything you could do to feel perfect for him. You cleaned the trailer and made dinner, you kissed him when he got in the door to which he blushed and smiled.

'Hi beautiful,' he greeted you so gently, 'I missed you today.'

You watch him dress now, hair dripping while he tugs on a pair of grey sweatpants and a ratty cut off Iron Maiden t-shirt. You sulk a little. Those aren't normally the clothes he'd put on if he wanted to take you to bed, but you don't say anything just yet.

He goes to the kitchen table with a composition notebook and a collection of pens and markers, opening the beat up pages to what you can only assume is a new campaign, a new drawing of a map. You walk over while he mulls over it, adding new territory, scribbling in new lore. You let your hands slide over his shoulders.

"Hi baby," you say sweetly.

"Hi," he responds, focused on his notebook. Your hands slide forward, onto his chest, your face leaning down to his, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whatcha doing?" you ask innocently.

"Workin' on a campaign," he responds, "We're gonna meet up on Wednesday night so I want it to be semi together."

"Okay," you nod, you run your fingers gently over his scalp, giving him a soft scratch. He keens into the touch, shoulders relaxing while he rolls his head back. You press your luck, letting your fingertip trace over the curve of his ear.

"Hey," he warns softly, "I'm tryin' to focus, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize, but he can't see your grin. Your fingers continue to wander, giving him a sweet shoulder massage while he reads over his story. A quiet 'thank you honey', falls from his full lips while you work out the knots. You press your luck again, trailing your finger down the line of his neck that's the most sensitive to your tongue and touch. Eddie's shoulders tense and he sits up straight, turning to you with a sour pull at his full lips.

"Do you need something?" he asks pointedly. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, "Do you need some attention?"

You nod and he grins, pulling the other kitchen chair over, "Come sit next to me then, you can help."

You roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he bites his tongue at the offense, happy to get to spend some time with you like this. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek while you watch him work.

You barely 'help', just sitting there while he crosses things out and re-writes them. While he flips back ten pages and then forward twenty, grabbing a red pencil and putting it down for a blue pencil then picking the red back up and so on. You get restless watching him work, so you get up and grab each of you a beer. Another sugar sweet, 'thaaank you baby,' pours from him, this time deep and focused, dark and syrupy. Molasses tongue. It goes right to your thighs.

You press your luck a third time, scooting close to him, letting your hand smooth over his covered thigh and further up, skimming over his cock that was perfectly outlined in his sweats. He let's out a frustrated sigh when he takes your hand away from his crotch, gently putting it on your lap when he looks at you sternly.

"Daddy's busy, baby," his eyes look down at you, his dominance brewing under angry brows, "Why don't you go play by yourself in another room, hm?"

He turns his attention back to the campaign notebook, while you throb from being scolded. The humilation pools through you when he chastises you, eyes lingering on you while you continue to sit there. After a beat, you get up to walk to the bedroom hearing his voice as you do.

"Good girl," he teases, "Are you being a good listener?"

You look back and see his grin while he leans back in the kitchen chair, crossing his arms. His legs are spread wide under the table, cool authority flowing off of him.

"Are you?" he asks again, a smirk cracking his face as if to ask, 'Does this embarrass you?' It does, it's humiliating.

"I'm a very good listener," you respond quietly, heart dropping in your chest.

His brows raise, waiting for you to add more to the sentence. You let out an aggravated huff through your nose, crossing your arms.

"I'm a very good listener, daddy," you repeat.

"There we go," he smiles cruelly, "Go have fun, sweetheart."

'Have fun? HAVE FUN?' you think to yourself while you go to the bedroom and shut the door with a firm click, 'Fine! I'll have fun without you then! See if I care!' It's not fair that you've been quite literally begging to be fucked for seven straight days, but to go straight into teasing you like this? The type of dominance that makes you feel the most -- god -- embarrassed? Degraded? You'd rather gag on fingers and have him wipe your spit on your face. You'd rather him make you lick someone's cum out of his ass, literally anything but this.

With a huff you open Eddie's top dresser drawer and grab the Hitatchi he bought you as an anniversary gift last year. Hastily, you plug it in behind the bedside table before climbing on to bed, shimmying your jeans off and tossing them to the floor.

Your legs spread, bent at the knees, turning the toy on low and slowly lowering it onto your covered core. The hum is quiet, barely a tremble in the head of the wand when it meets the lacy fabric of your panties. A soft gasp escapes you at the feeling, it had felt like years since you'd been touched there. You move the toy up and down slowly, teasing yourself, little puffs of breath escaping you as you do.

With a click, the buzz intensifies, sliding the head upward to settle softly on your clothed clit. You whimper while your hips start to move slowly against the vibrations, the whirr of the toy filling your ears while your eyes shut. You keep yourself like this for a little, enjoying the slow sensation, the mild tease. You feel it start, like the hook looping into the first car of a roller coaster train, the first tug when the attendant hits 'go'.

“Huh!” you gasp out breathy while your hips twitch. Your lower lips start to swell against the gusset of your bottoms, slick building between them. A slow start. You savor it, a small smile pulling at your lips.

“Look so pretty like that, baby,” you hear his voice and gasp, tossing the toy next to you and snapping your legs shut. He smirks, a devilish chuckle bubbles from his chest, “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt. I said you could go play by yourself, and look at you…”

His voice raises in a lilt, while he sits on the bed. He passes you the wand and smiles, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

“Go on,” he says with a nod, “Show daddy how you were playing.” You lean back on the pillows, opening up your legs again slowly. He glances between them, eyes flitting down to your mound briefly before meeting your eyes again, he subconciously licks his lips. You keep your legs up and bent up against your chest so he has a view, puffing out a soft sigh when you click the toy on again. He looks at you with a hazy gleam in his brown eyes, nodding slowly at you to remind you of his permission. You run it up your thigh before settling it back down on the center of your slit, letting the vibrations pulse over your entire core. "Hm," you hum out softly as your brows pinch together in a tilt. "Aw, yeah?" he coos out, "Does that feel good?"

"Mhm," you whine, lower lip tucked tight between your teeth. Yuo swallow when he reaches his hand out, smoothing over the soft plushness of your inner thigh. He squeezes, grinning when you let out a soft grunt with a twitch of your hips.

"You've been so patient this week," he purrs, "Such a good girl. Isn't that right?"

You nod hurriedly, watching his hand slide up your thigh, his index finger tracing up the hem of your underwear. It's a smooth hand off, watching his rings gleam in the bedside lamp when it wraps around the handle, both of your hands falling flat by your head. Your palms face the ceiling, matching your eyes when he turns up the vibrations. "Isn't that right, baby doll?" he asks, adding a gentle pressure up against you. Your pussy strains against the fabric the more excited you get, back already in a soft arch while you push into the mattress. "Y-yes, sir," you manage to mutter out. "No, no, that's not who I am tonight," he admonishes, still in a soft and steady voice, almost sweet -- like you don't understand anything. He takes the toy away; making you whimper, leaning up on your elbows behind you.

"You know how to address me," he says, a serpentine confidence flashing in his face, "You're a big girl, aren't you? Or do I have to teach you?"

You let out a shrill groan, head leaning back on it's hinge while your legs kick out in frustration in front of you.

"Hmm, of course," he says, getting up off the bed to pull off his shirt and slide off his sweats. His boxer briefs hug him in tight but it's there and it's missed you more than you've missed it this week, "You act like this and you don't think I should treat you like a little girl?"

You look up at him, bitten lower lip jutting out with a sheen of spit.

"So pouty, too," he coos, crawling onto the mattress between your parted thighs. He sits up on his knees, tall over your frame splayed out on the bed. He lifts one of your legs, pressing it flush against his chest so your foot rests by his ear.

"M'not pouty," you say back while his other hand reaches over your cheek with a light back before splaying over your jaw. His thumb brushes your lower lip before pressing on the dip at the center.

"Open," he instructs, you don't even think to stop yourself. You suck his thumb slow, letting your tongue lave over the length all the while. Spit fills your mouth, wet and eager, already inching at the corners of your mouth. You might as well drool. "Very good," he purrs again from the back of his throat, "Someone learned her lesson this week."

You nod, taking his wrist to steady his hand while you take more initiative with his thumb, implying what you really want.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," he says lowly, taking his thumb from your mouth. He wipes the spit on your cheek before reaching back over to the wand, keeping your legs spread and holding thight to your thigh against his front.

Your hips shimmy when he holds the toy back in place, thumb running over the power button but not pressing down.

"Hey," he says, commanding, "Look up at me."

Your gaze snaps to his in unadulterated obedience, his distaste for even having to ask evident on his face, "You know better."

"I know better," you nod while you say it, confirming his words. "You do not ever stop looking at me," he glowers down.

"I don't ever stop looking at you," you repeat back, needy for whatever he has for you next. Your hips shimmy again, you try to stifle the whine in your throat but it comes out just the same; desperate and childish. "Oh, baby, do you need help asking for what you want?" his voice lilts, "Does daddy have to guess?" "Turn it on, please," you whisper. "Please what, princess?" he asks, voice mocking with a knowing stare, leaning down so your knee hooks over his shoulder. His chest hovers at an angle over you, chain and guitar pick dangling over your lips. "Please what?" he asks again. "Please daddy," you whine, "Please turn the toy on." "Look at those manners," he grins wickedly, "My sweet girl."

He turns it on, speed setting high with the flick of his finger. It rumbles loud, thighs already twitching while runs it back and forth over your sensitive clit. "Fuck," you gasp out, eyes rolling, "Oh my god, right there." "That's not a very nice word, sweetheart," he chastises, "What do you say?"

"S-sorr-Oh! Oh my god! Oh! -- Sorry, d--shitshitshitshit-- sorrysorrysorrysorry," you nearly cry when the cord in your belly snaps, gushing into the fabric against your core. He greedily keeps your thighs apart, watching while you come undone under him. You gulp when he doesn't take the toy away, your sensitive nerves screaming at the buzz of the vibrator. Your hips writhe and jump, trying to pull away from it all the while he's shaking his head no.

"Gotta hear that apology, princess," he murmurs, "Say sorry."

"Sorry daddy, I'm sorry," you babble out, "M'sorry I'll be so good, I'll be good." He let's out a satisfied hum, clicking the wand off and placing it gingerly on the bedside table. His hand lingers for a moment to make sure it doesn't roll off and then finds it's footing back on the mattress.

"You'll be so good?"

"So good," you nod when he settles back between your thighs. He crawls forward like a cat, pressing his hips slowly up against yours. You sigh needily when you feel the drag of his erection against you, whimpering when you see it affect him the same way. "Shit, baby," he smirks, trying not to break character while he grinds against you a second time, "Fuck." "That's not a very nice word," you tease back, looking up at him through heavy lids. "Well I'm not a very nice guy, am I?" he muses, leaning in to kiss you deeply before one hand reaches down to tug at your panties. You giggle, a sound that sends him reeling when he's in this kind of mood. "You're very nice," you whisper against his lips. "Hmm, yeah?" he growls, noses brushing while he lingers above you. He offers another roll of his hips right before he gets to work on pulling your panties down slipping them off of each ankle with ease. Undressed completely below him, he admires you. He hadn't seen you like this all week, finally getting what you've been waiting for. So patient, so willing. He runs his hands from shoulders to hips, greedy fingers digging into you rough and tumble, grabbing and kneading with disregard to comfort. "Daddy," you start, getting his attention in a voice that makes him ready to serve accordingly, "Fuck me."

A smirk splits his face, it's cute when you ask so brazenly when you're busy looking at him with those sad puppy eyes. "Please, fuck me," you reiterate while he readies himself, boxer briefs peeling off to leave him bare. Your soft gasp at the release of his cock is more of an ego trip than he expected to have, never realizing how much you truly need him like this. How you can really only get off to him, how you've submitted in every way you could. "Daddy's gonna fuck you, sweetheart," he says steadily, climbing back ontop of you, pressing your thighs to your chest, "God, m'gonna fuck you real good."

He leans in for another hungry kiss, ownership laced in his lips. When he breaks away you catch his chin in your hand, an action that makes him bristle, jaw clenching at your attempt at control.

"Fuck me like I've been bad," you request in a timbre so low he nearly melts at the sound, "Fuck me how you fuck bad girls."

He's never flipped you over so fast in your life.

#eddie munson smut #dom!eddie munson #daddydom!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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queerly-autistic · 3 months

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I've been thinking about potential pick-up of Our Flag Means Death by another streamer, and how it all might be tying in with the current BBC release, and I have some thoughts about what might be happening and what we can do to give the show the best chance of being picked up.

I think it's important to start by saying that all the whisperings that I heard over the past few months (including from some people who work at/with the BBC) pointed firmly towards a scheduled March release for Our Flag Means Death on the BBC. Needless to say, this means I was extremely surprised when they suddenly announced it was dropping at the beginning of February. I think it's also clear from everything I've seen that the BBC's marketing/social media plan for the release was not ready for February (there was no trailer, which was odd), which, again, really supports the idea that the show was initially schedule for a March release, not a February release.

I firmly believe the release was brought forward. The question is: why? Is it because they saw how much noise and press the show (and our campaign) was getting, and decided to try and capitalise on it? Or is there something else going on?

On top of that, we now have specific questions about Our Flag Means Death appearing on YouGov UK, including asking whether respondents would watch another series. This doesn't just happen. The charity I work for has commissioned YouGov polling (including some very recently) which I have been tangentially involved with, and so I know that this sort of polling is not easy work, and it's not cheap. Someone has put time AND money into commissioning this polling. This is significant. Someone is not only watching, but they are specifically watching the UK response to the show, and putting questions to the UK audience about it.

I have strong suspicions that a streamer (or several streamers) are interested in picking up the show, and are using the UK release as a live case study (Apple, Amazon and Netflix also have a presence in the UK, so we are a big target audience for them in a way we never were for Max). This could account for both the potential bringing forward of the BBC release (they didn't want to wait until March), and the YouGov polling that's going on (bear in mind, the YouGov questions were specifically as part of a wider survey about streaming services).

And this isn't just a passing interest: working with the BBC to bring forward the release, and investing time and money into YouGov polling? That's a strong interest. That's so interested they've already invested something into it.

Of course, I don't know anything for certain, so take everything with a pinch of salt (it's just a theory...a gay pirates theory...), but I think it's something to consider as a strong possibility.

So what does this mean for us?

It means we need to keep streaming on iPlayer. Watch it as many times as you can. Share it with your friends and family. If you're outside the UK, get yourself a VPN and join the party. Watch the live broadcasts on Monday nights (if you have iPlayer, you can stream the live broadcast - this is what I do because I don't have a TV). Keep tweeting about it (add the #OurFlagBBC hashtag to the existing hashtags we're using). Tag and email the UK media (including TV guides and radio shows) and ask them to talk about the show/our campaign. If you're tagging/emailing Apple, Amazon or Netflix, make sure you mention you're from the UK (and tag their UK specific social media accounts).

According to Parrot Analytics, the demand in the UK for the show is rising - let's keep adding to that!

You can also sign up to YouGov and rate the show (more instructions in the quote retweets of the tweet I linked to earlier), and keep answering questions about TV shows and streaming (and marking Our Flag Means Death as one of your interests) as a way to try and get them to give you the specific questions about the show (these start as a question about streaming and streaming services, which then turn into questions about OFMD, so if you get a survey like that, take it!).

It's also worth considering that if there's any validity to this, then there's a possibility that they might be waiting until after the show has finished airing in the UK (the finale is airing on 25th March) to crunch all the numbers together. This means that if we don't hear anything in the next few weeks, do not despair! We need to buckle in for a long fight, and to keep pushing the show and making noise over the next few weeks and months, especially around the BBC release.

This show is worth the fight. Let's get our damned men back!

#ofmd #our flag means death #save ofmd #save our flag means death #renew ofmd #renew our flag means death #adopt our crew #ofmd bbc #be a lighthouse #erin waffles

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louloulemons-posts · 11 months

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All That Matters Is Us

Eddie Munson X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary : You’re in a secret relationship with Eddie Munson, what happens when someone finds out?

Word Count : 1.9k

Warnings : Fluffy, minuscule angst, Jason carver, self deprecating Eddie, not proof read, swears, use of Y/N and Y/L/N, kisses.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“You’re sure you don’t want to come?” Chrissy asked as the pair of you walked out of the locker room. You’d changed out of your cheer uniform into some light acid washed jeans, a purple and blue jumper and some old chuck taylors.

“Sorry Chris, I already have plans,” you explained to your best friend. She hummed, “Ah yes, with your mystery man.” Wiggling her eyebrows at you, you couldn’t help but chuckle. “When are you going to introduce me, or even tell me who it is?” she asked.

“When we’re both ready. It’s only been a couple months.”

“Exactly! A couple of months of my best friend seeing a guy I have no information about. I’m guessing he’s a douche or a nerd.”

“He’s neither. He’s kind and thoughtful and sweet to me. I really like him Chris.”

She awed at you, which made you roll your eyes. “Who are we talking about?” Jason. He appeared out of nowhere with a couple of his friends. Throwing his arm over Chrissy shoulder, he kissed her head. “Nobody,” you shrugged.

Walking down the halls you were ready to leave them. “Have fun at the party,” you said to the blonde girl. She pulled out of Jason’s hold and hugged you, whispering in your ear, “Call me tomorrow. Update.”

“You’re not coming to the party?” Jason questioned.

“Not this time. I’ll see you guys later,” you waved at them and wandered away.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You made your way to the drama room, knocking on the door lightly. “Come in,” a familiar voice said. Entering, you panicked slightly, you’d assume Hellfire was over, you were wrong. The group of boys gave you strange looks, minus the chocolate eyed metal head, sat in his throne.

“Y/L/N,” he began, “We’re almost finished. If you don’t mind sitting and waiting, I’ll get you your stuff.” You nodded, sitting down on a chair in the corner, plopping your bag by your feet.

The campaign didn’t last much longer, Eddie bringing it to an end with a cliffhanger. “Stop your whining,” he said to the younger boys, ushering them out of the room. “It gives you time to prepare, so I don’t get why you’re all moody.”

Shutting the door to them, he turned on his heel, instantly grinning at you. You matched it, chuckling slightly. “It’s a good thing I can come up with stories quickly, you almost gave us away Sweetheart,” Eddie spoke.

“I didn’t think they’d still be here Eds.” Standing, you walked over to him. He leaned back on the table slightly, allowing you to stand between his legs. “Look pretty, I like this” he smiled, tugging the hem of your jumper.

“Missed you today,” you said, brushing some stray curls out of his face. “Missed you too baby. Never leave me for a full day again,” he groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder. “I had practice Eds, big competition coming up.”

“I know, I know. How did it go?” he asked, kissing your neck lightly, before he lifted his head again. “It was good, I didn’t get dropped so, that’s always a bonus.”

“I know. Or you’d have Dr Munson waiting on you, hand and foot. Nobody wants that.”

“I could think of worse things than you doting on me,” you laughed.

“Oh yeah?” he said, leaning down so his lips ghosted yours. “Yeah.” Your lips were about to touch when the door burst open.

You didn’t have time to fully move away from one another, looking at the door you saw one of the Hellfire boys. Dustin. “Oh. I … umm … sorry, I uh left my notes,” he said, awkwardly grabbing his book from the table. “Sorry um, I’ll leave you to it. See you Monday Eddie.”

Before he could leave the room, Eddie called out, “Henderson.” The boy faced him, looking slightly panicked. “Yeah?”

“Not one word.” The younger boy gulped, nodding, “You got it. Didn’t see a thing.” The door clicked closed.

“We’re screwed,” Eddie said, rubbing his face.

“He’s going to tell his friends?” you asked, to which Eddie nodded. “Yeah and Lucas has been taken over by the dark side.”

You pinched his side, knowing what he meant. “Oh and am I on the dark side?” you asked, pinching him again. “No! You’re different, you’re sweet and kind.”

“Hmm okay, okay I get it,” you smiled slightly, showing him you weren’t mad.

“Seriously though, if Lucas knows, Carver will too. You sure you want people to know about you and the Freak?” he asked, seeming to close in on himself.

“Eddie,” you said softly, gently placing one of your hands on his cheek. He couldn’t meet your eyes, insecurities taking over. “Hey, come on baby, look at me.” He didn’t. “Please, wanna see those pretty eyes I love so much,” you said.

Slowly his eyes met yours, they were slightly glassy. “Let me down easy Sweetheart,” he almost whispered. “Let you down? What?” you questioned.

“I know you won’t want people to know about us, so just do it to me gently. Cause I really fucking like you.”

“Who says I don’t want them to know?” you cocked your head slightly. “Sweetheart your reputation-”

“Means nothing. I cheer because I find it fun, not for the popularity status, and honestly the only people I like in that group are Chrissy and well … Lucas,” you explained to him.

“Really?” he mumbled.

“Really Eds. I really like you, more than I’ve ever liked anyone. Never been so glad to be paired up on a project with someone,” you chuckled.

Remembering how during your 3rd study session you’d been laughing so hard and lost all focus. Ending up kissing until you couldn’t breathe anymore, chapped lips and messy hair.

“I just don’t want you to have to deal with the stuff those assholes say.”

“I don’t care what people say, or what they think. All that matters is what we say and what we think, right?”

He hummed. “Eddie, I wanna be with you. I really do, but if you’re nervous I understand, we can still take it slowly.” He frowned, and groaned slightly, “Don’t wanna have to take it slow. Wanna be able to hold your hand in the halls and kiss you.”

“Then we can do that babe,” you said, smoothing between his brows to remove his frown.

“You really want too?” he asked.

“I do. Monday, pick me up. We’ll walk in together. We can have lunch if you want, in the cafeteria or the woods if it overwhelms us. How does that sound?” you asked softly.

He nodded, pulling you closer to him and hugging you. “I really like you Y/N.”

“I really like you too Eds.” You stood on your toes slightly and pecked his lips. “We should get going, they’re gonna lock the school soon,” you mumbled against his mouth.

After one more quick kiss, he began to pack his Hellfire stuff away. As you were getting ready to walk out the door, you slid your hand into his. “I know the schools empty right now, but we can walk in the halls holding hands now, if you want?”

“Yeah. I’d really like that Sweetheart.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Morning,” you said, smiling as you climbed into Eddies van. “Morning Sweetheart,” he replied, leaning over and kissing your lips.

The drive wasn’t a particularly long one, Eddies favourite cassette was playing lowly in the background. He played with your hand as he drove, feeling his chunky rings knock against your knuckles.

You could tell he was on edge, so you squeezed his hand gently. You didn’t want to force him to talk, but you wanted him to know he could if he needed too. He gave you a small smile, looking back to the road. ‘Never wanna damage precious cargo,’ he’d say.

Pulling into the school parking lot, you could hear Eddies breath become shaky. “We don’t have to do this today,” you said softly, “Can try again another day.”

“No!” he almost shouted. “Sorry. I want to do this today, want people to know you’re my girl.”

“Oh I’m you girl?” you asked.

“W-well I umm … I was … what I mean to say is,” you laughed, cutting him off.

“Eds I’m kidding, I’m more than happy to be your girl.”

His cheeks reddened as he parked the van, giving you a shy smile. Which wasn’t a common Eddie thing. “We do this together baby,” you said to him, squeezing his hand once more. He squeezed back. “You ready Munson?” you asked.

“Ready Y/L/N.”

Kissing his lips softly, you let go of his hand and climbed out of the van. You went to put your bag on your shoulder, but Eddie took it from you, putting it on his own. Taking your hand he pulled you closer, kissing you again.

When he pulled away you couldn’t help but giggle. “You need to go to your locker or straight to class?” he asked.

“Locked, just to swap a couple books over, then we have English.”

“Great, let’s go,” he pecked your forehead and you headed towards the entrance.

You knew Eddie could feel the eyes on the pair of you, they were almost burning. Along with the whispers from nearly every person you walked past, good and bad. You squeezed Eddies hand to reassure him, which he did the same.

Pushing the door open for you both, the whispers only intensified when you walked through the semi-busy halls. You saw a couple of Eddies friends, Dustin being one, he was wearing a huge grin, throwing you a thumbs up.

Arriving at your locker, Eddie leaned beside you, holding your bag open. You heard loud and familiar chatter, walking around the corner you saw Chrissy, Jason and a few other cheerleaders and jocks.

Eddie tensed up and seemed to pull away from you. “Hey Y/N,” Chrissy said, wandering over to you, followed by the rest of the group. “Morning Chris,” you smiled. Placing more books into the bag Eddie still held, you smiled at him.

“You need something Freak?” Jason asked him, pulling a face of disgust. “Actually I-” Eddies voice didn’t seem to be working for him. “He’s waiting for me, aren’t you Eds?” you asked him, to which he nodded. You kissed him on his cheek, making him relax instantly.

“What the hell? Y/N are you sick in the head?” Jason almost yelled. You rolled your eyes turning to him, about to give him a mouthful, but your best friend beat you to it. “Jason just shut up! They’re happy! Eddies a sweet guy, leave them be, stop being such a jackass.”

Jason’s jaw dropped. Chrissy was polite and sweet 85% of the time, even you were in shock at her outburst. “That’s exactly what I was gonna say, so if you don’t mind Carver, I’ve gotta get my girl to class.” Eddie threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close.

You smiled at him and Chrissy, cheeks hurting. The blonde girl copied you, “See you later,” she mouthed, as you walked past her. “We did good babe,” Eddie said, leaning down to kiss you.

And it had remained that way, you and Eddie walking through the halls together. Sitting together at lunch, him often pulling you onto his lap. Stolen kisses when you were busy with cheer and him with hellfire. And nobody could say anything, you actually became one of the most loved couples in the whole school.

Not that you and Eddie cared, you only cared about one another. That’s all that matter. You adored one another.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things imagine #fluff #oneshot #imagine #louloulemons

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doorhine · 3 months

Text

Here’s how things stand on Tuesday, February 20, 2024:

Fighting and humanitarian crisis

Israel’s assault in Gaza has killed more than 29,000 Palestinians since October 7, the territory’s Ministry of Health said on Monday, marking another grim milestone in one of the deadliest and most destructive military campaigns in recent history.

Footage verified by Al Jazeera shows Palestinian people fleeing to take cover after coming under attack from Israeli forces as they waited for humanitarian aid in northern Gaza.

The Israeli military released a video on Monday showing what is believed to be the youngest captive, his brother and mother being led through the streets of the southern Gaza city of Khan Younis. Al Jazeera could not independently verify the Israeli claims.

Separately, Benny Gantz, a member of Netanyahu’s three-man war cabinet, warned that the offensive would expand to Rafah if the captives were not freed by the start of the holy month of Ramadan, expected around March 10.

Meanwhile, with thousands of Palestinians detained by Israel, an Israeli human rights group reported that Palestinians inside Israeli prisons face daily violence from guards. Physicians for Human Rights said that Israeli guards enter cells and beat inmates with batons, kicks and fists without provocation in abuse it said could amount to torture.

The war has driven around 80 percent of the Palestinians in Gaza from their homes and left a quarter of the population starving, according to UN officials.

#palestine #news #current events #al jazeera #article

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jamdoughnutmagician · 1 year

Text

From Me to You.

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary:Eddie finds a love letter pushed through his locker, and he’s determined to find out who his secret admirer is.

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of, just tooth-rotting Valentine’s day fluff! Slight use of "y/n" sorry I couldn't escape it!!

Word Count:1,867

Authour’s Note:My life is so devoid of any kind of romance, so I though what better way to resolve that than to write some cutesy Valentine’s Day fic with everyone’s favourite metal-head? Maybe I'm posting this a little early, but I'm pretty pleased with how this turned out (since I suck at writing fluff) and I wanted to share it!

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie, oh no, that couldn’t be further from the truth. However, having to admit to your crush on your best friend? Well that was a whole other story.

So, your big plan was to leave little secret admirer notes in Eddie’s locker in the week leading up to Valentine’s day on Friday. It was an easy way to confess your love to him, without the sting of rejection coming to bite you in the ass.

The Monday after your last class you waved Eddie goodbye as he made his way to the drama room where the Hellfire club would be meeting for their latest campaign. Although you didn't share his love of Dungeons and Dragons, you were still as close as friends could be, only you didn't want to be just his friend.

Waiting for him to disappear out of sight, you look around to check the coast is clear before you slip the hand-written note into his locker. Pushing the folded up piece of paper through the vented slats in his locker, you make your way out of the school.

All you have to do now is just have to wait until tomorrow to find out if your little secret mission was successful.

_______

Eddie strolled into school that Tuesday morning, opening up his locker to put away his things, but as he did so, a small folded up piece of paper fell to the floor. Piquing his curiosity, he bent down to pick up the paper. Unfolding it carefully his eyes scanned over the nice hand-written message inside.

Your smile is my favourite thing and it brightens my day

He glances at the swirling joined up writing and how the little hearts dot the I’s and he finds his face warming with a blush.

“What’ve you got there then, Ed?” Gareth asks noisily, causing the rest of the members of Corroded Coffin to turn their heads to their lead guitarist.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Eddie says defensively as he stuffed the note in his pocket.

Holding his hands up in surrender, Gareth dropped the subject and they guys went about the rest of their school day.

_______

The next day, Eddie goes to open his locker and surprisingly another note falls at his feet.

Quickly he bends to pick it up before anyone notices that he’s received another note. Unfolding the paper he reads the message.

You give me butterflies

He reasons that it must be the same person that it was from yesterday, because the handwriting is exactly the same and the I’s are still dotted adorably with the same little hearts.

As quick as his hopes get up at the thought of someone writing him little love notes,his thoughts are pulled in the direction that this must be some sort of prank. It had to be, right? Why else would anyone leave the school’s ‘freak’ sweet notes like this if not for some kind of twisted joke.

Jason Carver and his gang probably thought the idea that someone might have a crush on Eddie, laughable. Yeah, he thinks to himself, that sounds more plausible.

Speak of the devil.

Jason and his crew make their way past him laughing loudly and obnoxiously. Right, that's it.

Eddie stormed up to Jason, poking an accusing finger in his face.

“I bet you think this is really funny, don’t you Carver?”

“What do you want, freak?” Jason barks out.

“You, leaving those little notes in my locker.” Eddie jabs.

Eddie looks at Jason for a moment, a look of genuine confusion gracing the features of the basketball player, his brows knitted together, before he huffs out an incredulous laugh.

“In your dreams, Munson” Jason laughs in his face as he pushes past Eddie.

Okay…So maybe this wasn’t a joke. Well who was sending Eddie anonymous love letters?

_______

I want to hold your hands and kiss your face

Another day, another note. Eddie was still none the wiser as to who exactly was putting these love letters in his locker. Right, he thought to himself, he was going to need some help if he had any chance of finding out who this secret admirer of his was.

Strolling through the doors of Family video, Eddie had decided to recruit the help of the only person he could think that would actually be of any help to him. Even if it did mean that he would have to show all the notes he’d received with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You’ve been getting anonymous love letters put in your locker?” Steve asks

“Well..yeah?” Eddie answers.

“...And you’re absolutely sure you have no idea who this is?” Steve presses.

“Well at one point I thought Carver was doing it, you know, for a joke..but I confronted him about it yesterday and that turned out about as well as you can imagine” Eddie explains

“Do you have some that you want it to be?” Steve quizzes, as he watches the metal-head’s expression change instantly, flushing scarlet rising from his chest to his cheeks and the tips of his nose. “Aha!” -Steve exclaims, jabbing his finger towards Eddie- “So you are thinking of someone then?”

Luckily, Eddie was saved from the embarrassment of admitting to his crush on one of his best friends by Robin interrupting his and Steve’s conversation.

“What are you two dorks gabbing about over there?” She shouts making her way from the back of Family video where she was rearranging a stack of horror films.

“Munson here has got himself a secret admirer.” Steve says, cocking his thumb towards Eddie. “Said he’s been getting these little love notes slipped in his locker” Steve continues with his teasing.

“Oooh!! Let me see ‘em!!” Robin squeals excitedly.

Scattering the piece of paper out onto the countertops, the boys watch as Robin reads through each of the messages. Her eyes scan over the words, and her eyebrows draw together, and her expression one of surprise.

“You alright over there, Rob? You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which considering what we’ve been through, is the last thing that should have you looking like that.” Steve joked.

“Shut up, Dingus.” Robin says, shushing Steve holding her pointer finger up at him. “Eddie, I think I might know who your secret admirer is.”

The two boys look at Robin with wide eyes and bated breath.

Robin turns her back and hot-foots it to the back room of Family video.

“I thought you were going to tell us who it is?” Eddie shouts after his friend.

“Hold your horses will 'ya, Munson?!” she shouts back over her shoulder.

Robin returns with a wide grin gracing her freckled features as she slams down a sheet of A4 lined paper on the counter top.

“What the hell’s this?” Steve said, looking even more confused than before.

“These are the notes that I borrowed from y/n, for Kominski’s class yesterday. Now I don’t know about you guys, but I’d say that that swirly handwriting looks very familiar to me.” Robin says proudly, like she’s decoded the most cryptic of secret messages.

Eddie and Steve lean in closer to compare the handwriting in the love letters, to the handwriting in the classroom notes.

“I mean, apart from the little hearts that are dotting the I’s, I would say that is the exact same handwriting” Robin points out.

“So, y/n, huh?” Steve says, letting the thought hang in the air.

If Eddie was blushing before, his whole face must’ve looked like a tomato at this point,

“Judging by your very red and embarrassed face, I’m going to guess that you like her too, right?” Robin asks.

Steve and Robin look at Eddie as he shyly scratches the back of his neck

“Okay, yeah I like her..I like her a lot actually.”

“But isn’t tomorrow Valentine’s day?” Steve throws out.

“Oh this is perfect!” Robin jumps up and down excitedly. “Here’s what you’re going to do…” she began as she brought Eddie closer to tell him her plan.

_______

Sticking to the plan that Robin (and Steve who got dragged into it by Robin) helped him with, Eddie got up early for school for once in his life. That morning he showered, and dressed in a clean Black Sabbath shirt (that he’d previously ironed that evening, earning a raised eyebrow from his uncle, and hung up ready to put on in the morning.)

Dressed and ready to leave, he picked up the bunch of red roses that he’d bought from the Valentine’s day section in town yesterday evening after leaving Family Video.

He’d called you and asked if you needed a lift on the way to school, and knowing you the way he did, you would much prefer to ride with him in his van than take the school bus.

“Son..” Uncle Wayne called out to Eddie as he was just about to go through the door. “Good luck today, you be nice to that girl, alright?” His gruff voice huffs out.

“I will Wayne, I can promise you that.” Eddie throws over his shoulder with a wide grin as he makes his way to his van.

_______

Pulling up to your house, he parks his van and takes a moment to catch his breath before grabbing his bunch of roses and walking to your front door.

Squaring his shoulders he raises his knuckles to your door to deliver a confident knock.

“I’m coming!!” he hears you shout from inside the house.

You unlock the door to see your best friend hiding his face behind a bouquet of beautiful red roses before handing them to you.

“These are for you. Happy Valentine’s day” he says as you kindly accept the flowers from him.

Although you had smiled when he’d given you the flowers, he could still sense your confusion at his gesture.

“I got your notes…I thought they were really cute y’know and truth be told when I read them I kind of hoped they were from you.” he rambled, feeling that familiar heat flushing across his cheeks.

“How did you figure out it was me?” you ask.

“Well it wasn’t easy, but Robin and Steve helped me figure it out…mostly Robin, though..” he chuckles.

There’s a moment's silence between the two of you where you’re both looking into each other’s eyes.

Feeling bold, you rise up on your tip-toes to place a quick peck to Eddie’s cheek. You feel him smile brightly under your lips.

“Thanks for the flowers, Ed. They’re beautiful”

“You missed.” he says with a look of disappointment in his deep brown eyes.

“Huh?”

“You missed.” he says again, smirking as he points to his lips.

“Take me on a date first, and then we can see about that kiss, Ed” you giggle.

“Let me take you to the movies tomorrow? We can hold hands and do all that cute shit that you’re supposed to do on a first date” he looks to you excitedly.

“I’d love to!”

“Great! I’ll come pick you up at seven?”

“It’s a date” You smile back at him.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things s4

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undying-love · 4 months

Text

"As he muses over a suitable recipe for another cookery video to promote the new campaign, he remembers one of his father's favourite recipes. "Pea sandwiches," he recalls. "I remember my dad making one for John once." But his daughters groan. "It has to be mum's lasagne," says Mary."

Paul McCartney's Meat Free Monday Mission, June 25, 2009 - The Telegraph

#mclennon #oh paul #he brings up John out of nowhere #his children must be sick of this #John is always in his mind

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

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Hello! Could I possibly request something with a lovesick Eddie trying to win over the reader? He’s watched and studied rom-coms with Dustin to get his plan in action doing the basics of walking her to class, carrying her books, complimenting her, etc. but it typically ends with him inadvertently embarrassing himself. Super fluffy ending though!

This is adorable and I loved writing it <3

Warnings: angst-to-fluff, some language, spoilers for 80s movies

WC: 2.4k

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

“You coming to Hellfire today?” Eddie asks you, munching on a pretzel. You weren’t an official member, but you like sitting in and watching campaigns, sometimes secretly helping the freshmen defeat their sadistic Dungeon Master.

You shake your head. “Sorry, Eds,” you shrug apologetically, “Robin, Nancy, and I are gonna catch a movie.”

His eyes widen and he grins excitedly. “Oh, shit! Which one? Eliminators?”

The prospect of the three of you watching an over-the-top sci-fi movie–without Eddie or Dustin nagging you–sends you into a fit of laughter. “Uh, no,” you manage between giggles. “We’re seeing Pretty in Pink.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose. “Isn’t that, like, a chick flick?”

“Yes, and we are chicks,” you say slowly, enunciating each word like it’s a novel concept for him. “Why, did you wanna join?”

Eddie would watch paint dry if it meant spending time with you, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he rolls his eyes. “Not a chance,” he scoffs. “You girls enjoy your Molly Ringworm.”

“It’s Ringwald, dingus,” you retort, borrowing Robin’s favorite insult for the occasion. “And we will. It’s nice to pretend that guys can actually care about a girl beyond getting in her pants.”

He’s about to ask you if you lump him into that category when Dustin, Lucas, and Mike plop their trays onto the table. They’re chatting excitedly about the upcoming campaign, a conversation Eddie usually never shuts up about, but the older boy is uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hey, Y/N,” Nancy taps you on the shoulder with a smile. “Robs and I were just about to finalize our plans for tonight, if you wanna sit with us.”

You nod enthusiastically, eager to leave the table now that the topic has switched to which cheerleaders are the easiest. “See you perverts on Monday!” you call out behind you, walking side by side with Nancy.

“Hey, sheep,” Eddie interrupts their riveting conversation suddenly. “Do I give off ‘douchebag’ vibes? Like, ‘only being nice to chicks for sex’ vibes?”

“If you are, it’s not working very well,” Mike snorts, only to have a pretzel lobbed at his head.

Dustin, however, is more perceptive to Eddie’s concerns. “Did something happen with Y/N?” he asks, glancing over at you.

“Don’t stare at her!” Eddie hisses, pressing his fingers over his eyes in exasperation. How do these two have girlfriends and I don’t? he wonders silently. “She mentioned something about liking chick flicks because that’s the only time guys treat girls nicely without trying to sleep with them.”

“Okay, and…?” Mike responds, earning him another pretzel to the head. This one lands in his mop of hair.

“And, what if she thinks that’s the only reason I’m nice to her?”

“To be fair,” Lucas pipes up between bites of pizza, “you do wanna sleep with her.” He quickly joins Mike as one of Eddie’s snack throwing targets. “Dude, you’re not gonna have any pretzels left if you keep chucking them at us!”

“Can someone just answer my question?” Eddie growls, standing up and pacing around the table. “Because if I’m gonna ask her out–”

“Not gonna happen,” Dustin mumbles under his breath. Eddie glares at him. “What? You’ve been saying that you’re gonna ask her out for ages now, but you never do!”

“Well, now I’m not, if she thinks I’m just some creep,” the metalhead grumbles. “I’d have to be one of those corny idiots from those movies for her to take me seriously.”

Dustin slams his hands on the table, startling everyone. “So be one of those corny idiots!” he exclaims. “Do you think I wanna sing The Neverending Story every time I talk to Suzie? No, I do not. But I do it because it makes her feel special and loved.”

“How would I even do that?” Eddie throws his hands up in frustration. “I’ve never watched any of those dumb movies.”

Dustin’s grin spans his entire face. “Oh, don’t you worry, my friend,” he says. “I’ve got a secret weapon.”

Turns out, Dustin’s secret weapon is Steve Harrington. More specifically, using him to check out as many romantic comedies as the boy can carry, completely ignoring the three movie maximum policy.

“Okay,” Dustin begins, pushing his way into Eddie’s trailer. “We’ve got The Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, Footloose, Terms of Endearment, and Y/N’s favorite, Grease.” He plops the video cassettes onto the table with a thwack.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie buries his head in his hands. “What did I get myself into?”

“You can thank me later when you finally have a girlfriend,” Dustin retorts, ignoring his friend’s mild irritation. “Now, where should we start?”

By Monday morning, Eddie’s brain is buzzing with ideas to be the perfect rom-com boyfriend. He waits for you at your locker before first period, leaning up against it as you approach.

“How was your movie night with the girls?” He remembers Dustin’s advice to ask you questions about yourself, rather than launching into another story about his DnD campaigns.

“Good…” You eye him suspiciously. “Is there a reason why you’re blocking me from opening my locker?”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he sputters, jumping back and smacking into another student passing by. “Son of a–”

You grab your math textbook from the top shelf, rolling your eyes at his antics. “Well, nice talking to you.” You’re not sure what’s gotten into him, but it’s weirding you out.

“Wait!” he calls out, and you turn back around slowly.

“What is it?” you ask crossly, “I’m gonna be late for class.”

Eddie rubs the nape of his neck with his palm, unable to make eye contact with you. “Jus’ wanted to say that you’re pretty…” When you don’t reply within a nanosecond, he starts stumbling over his words. “Pretty nice, and stuff. No, just pretty. You’re pretty. N-not that you’re not nice, b’cause you are; you’re, like, really nice. But you’re also pretty. So, yeah. You’re pretty.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. “Are you okay?” What you really want to ask is, is this some kind of prank?

Eddie nods, fidgeting with the frayed edges of his denim jacket. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. Are you, uh, okay?”

“Mhmmm,” you stretch out your response, backing away. “I’m gonna head to math before I get detention.”

What the hell was that? You wonder incredulously. The only time you’ve ever witnessed him being so tongue-tied was when he was paired with Chrissy Cunningham on a science project. But he was hopelessly in love with her; you were just his best friend. You’d have to ask one of the Hellfire freshmen what was going on. Maybe they’d have some insight.

You don’t get a chance to talk to Dustin, Mike, or Lucas before Eddie’s trying out his next move. He’s at your locker again between third and fourth period, desperate to redeem himself after his flustered performance this morning.

“Lemme walk you to class,” he blurts out.

“Eddie,” you laugh, “we have the same class now. You’d know this if you bothered to show up.”

“Oh. Right.” Actually, he has been showing up, partially because of his determination to graduate, but mostly because you’re there. “Then, can I carry your books for you?” He reaches for your composition book and pencil case before you have the chance to answer, and you pull away from him.

“Are you gonna throw my stuff in the trash or something?” You warily cock your eyebrow.

“No!” He seems genuinely confused and slightly offended at your assumption. “Why would I do that?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. “Why else would you do nice things for me?”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. “So that’s what you think of me, huh?” His eyes mist over, so angry that he’s about to cry. “Just another dumb guy who’s either trying to fuck you or fuck you over?”

“What are you talk—“ you start, but he cuts you off.

“Forget it,” he mutters under his breath, walking in the opposite direction. “Told Henderson this was a stupid idea.”

“Where are you going?” you call after him. “Class is the other way.”

“‘M ditching!” Eddie retorts, pulling out a cigarette and lighting in before he even reaches the doors.

You’re sitting in your room, highlighting and writing in the margins of the tattered copy of The Grapes of Wrath you’ve been assigned for English class. You can barely concentrate, though; your mind is consumed with thoughts of Eddie’s string of bizarre behavior.

The compliments, offering to walk you to class, trying to carry your books—what was that all about?

You vaguely remember him mentioning something about Dustin; the two of them were thick as thieves and basically attached at the hip. Eddie was the older brother Dustin never had. If anyone knows what was going on with him, it’s Dustin Henderson.

“Hello?” Dustin’s bored voice comes through the receiver, probably expecting the call to be for his mom.

“Hey, Dustin. It’s Y/N,” you begin nervously. “Do you have a sec to talk about Eddie?”

“Um, yeah,” he replies, caution evident in his tone. “He seemed really upset at lunch today. Did something happen?”

You exhale, a bitter laugh escaping your chest. “That’s what I was calling about. He was being super weird this morning, and then he got mad at me, like, out of nowhere.”

“Weird…how?”

Starting at the beginning, you recall everything that occurred, emphasizing the babbling that was supposed to constitute a compliment and his explosion when you didn’t let him hold your books. “He’s always playing little jokes on me; what was I supposed to think?” you finish.

“Aw, shit,” Dustin muses. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but—“

“Please,” you beg him, “I just need to know what I did wrong.”

“No, it’s not something you did—well, maybe, kinda—but not on purpose,” he explains. “On Friday, when you told him about seeing Pretty in Pink, did you say something about guys in chick flicks being better than actual guys because they want more than just sex?”

“Yeah…” you say, confused. “What does this have to do with Eddie?”

“I’m getting to that part, jeez!” Dustin quips, and you roll your eyes at his attitude. “Well, when you said that, Eddie got all worried that you felt that way about him.”

“Of course I don’t!” you reply incredulously. “He’s…he’s Eddie! I know he would never use me for sex.”

Dustin presses on. “He didn’t realize that. So we watched those stupid movies all weekend, just so he could learn how you want a guy to show interest in you.”

Oh. Oh.

“Because Eddie…” you trail off, your mouth going dry.

“Yeah, the dude’s, like, in love with you.” Dustin spells it out. “He tries to act like nothing bothers him, but he really cares about what you think of him.”

“Shit,” you murmur. “I mean, thanks, Dustin. I’m gonna go fix this.”

“Any time,” he replies, then quickly adds, “don’t tell him I told you, or he’ll give me wedgies for the rest of my life!”

You knock on the Munson trailer door. Wayne’s already left for his night shift at the plant, and you hear the sounds of Eddie’s guitar, so you know he’s home.

“Who is it?” he calls from his room, still strumming.

“It’s me,” you answer, hoping he’ll let you in. “And I come bearing gifts.”

The guitar playing stops, and you breathe a sigh of relief when his heavy footsteps come closer.

“‘S not my birthday,” he narrows his eyes at the treat in your hand.

“I know. I wanted to recreate the ending scene in Sixteen Candles where Jake Ryan goes over to Sam’s house, but a whole cake was too expensive.” You smile warmly at him. “I hope a cupcake will suffice.”

Eddie returns your grin, leaning against the doorframe. “Depends. What flavor is it?”

“Chocolate cake, chocolate frosting.” It’s his favorite; the man has a mean sweet tooth. “Eddie, I’m sorry that I accused you of having some sort of ulterior motive for being nice to me. But when I said that stuff on Friday—about guys using girls—I wasn’t talking about you,” you tell him. “I was thinking about the Jason Carvers of the world, not the Eddie Munsons.”

He takes a big bite of cupcake. “Apology accepted,” he says, mouth still full. He swallows before speaking again. “How did you know that’s why I was upset?”

“Psychic powers,” you tease. “And a certain meddling, curly-haired nerd who just wants you to be happy.”

“Dammit, Henderson!” Eddie groans. “Little shit can never keep a secret—“

You interrupt him, pressing your lips to his chocolate-covered ones. The kiss doesn’t last long because the two of you can’t stop smiling.

“That’s for calling me pretty,” you tell him. “At least, I think that’s what you said; you kinda rambled on there for awhile.”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to cut you off. “Then let me make it clear,” he says softly, running his thumb over your jawline. “Pretty, pretty, pretty. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” He places a kiss on your forehead, and you feel yourself melt.

“No more trying to be some corny movie character,” you instruct him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I like you just as you are, Eddie Munson.”

He laughs. “Got it, boss.” He twitches his nose. “Actually, there’s one more thing I wanted to do.” When you look at him quizzically, he continues. “You know that part in The Breakfast Club, where Bender gives Claire his earring?”

“Yeah?”

“Well,” Eddie says shyly, “I don’t have an earring, but I do have this.” He pulls his thin black ring off of his finger and holds it up. “Prob’ly be too big on you, but maybe you could wear it on a chain? And you could be my girlfriend, if you want?”

You press on your tiptoes, pecking another kiss on his lips. “Yes, Eds. To both questions.”

He throws his fist in the air á la Judd Nelson as he kisses you back, making you cackle with laughter.

“I can’t believe you actually watched that movie,” you tease.

He shakes his head, as though he can’t believe it himself. “‘S all right,” he says. “You can make it up to me by seeing Eliminators on our first date.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #stranger things #requests

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for how i played DnD?

I will try to keep this short but give enough info. At the time of the incident this past year, I was 19. I had made a few friends at uni. Someone brought up Dungeons and Dragons and as a group we decided to try it. There were 5 people playing as characters, including me, and one Dungeon Master (DM). The DM is 24, and the other people ranged 19-22.

Maybe it is just who I played with before, but it had always been stressed to me to do actions my character would do. Follow the actions the character would follow. For example, I played in a campaign with someone who in real life is the sweetest, kindest person, but their character was very mean and vengeful. It was fun! They would want to heal someone, but knew it was out of character so decided to NOT do that, and it was realistic for the campaign.

THAT is how I was taught. That is how I've always played. So it comes time for the first session with the uni group. It was a one-shot to learn how to play for the two people who hadn't played before. It was stated that this was solely to learn mechanics, the characters we were would not be used for the actual campaign. Cool!

Well, in this one-shot I had a character who was very self centered. The type to put themselves over the health of the rest of the group. I had never played that before and wanted to try it. It came to a fight and I was wounded and so was another player. This player hadn't played before and chose to run away and abandon the group. I chose to do the same thing because it was in Character. However, I happened to have the one item that could have stopped the cult from taking over and essentially starting the apocalypse. Thus, because I ran, it doomed everyone else.

It didn't seem anyone minded at the time, it was to learn after all. The DM mentioned then that it is a shitty move to choose to run, and you should fight regardless of if you die. I thought that was a stupid thought, why fight a losing battle, but whatever.

We ran through our first campaign that was over a month long. We all died but had a lot of fun. I then turned 20 and had a flare up (I have a chronic illness), I told them they could do a campaign and I would join in once better. The DM didn't want that because I would be joining partway and ruin the integrity. So they decided to postpone.

I got better, all good. I was sick and hospitalized for a week, then a week after I recovered. So it was 2 weeks. We met weekly, so it was only 2 weeks that we were out. Prior to this time we all met on Mondays, but after this i would have to go to therapy on Mondays so DM decided to switch the days to Thursdays which everyone could also do.

We started a new campaign and me and another player decided our characters would be intertwined. They played a character who had been royal and after the usurpation of their throne, they were on the run. I played the loyal knight who would defend them til my death. We made it VERY evident that I would protect them til my death, with no hesitation, and would defend them from any action that could cause them harm.

A fight broke out in our party and the hothead started coming after the exroyal. In character, I put myself in between the two and verbally told them to stop or else I would make them stop. Hothead character escalated and pushed mine and then threw something at the exroyal. Of course, irl we all were laughing and having fun, except the DM. The DM was trying to get everyone back on course.

Now, I could have decided to ignore this and go towards the obvious direction the DM was trying to steer us. But my character would NEVER have let a slight like that occur. So I didnt. My goal was to simply slash at the hothead, but got a nat 20. The DM CHOSE that I killed the hothead. That isnt what I wanted but I went with it and had the great one line of "take this as a warning for the rest of you".

The person who played the hothead was dying of laughter and didn't seem upset, they had a second character ready. Well, at the end of the session the DM asked me to stay behind. They told me that I was a terrible player and that every session thus far, I played the character instead of doing things that would help the newbies. I was also apparently annoying and "you shouldn't turn against those in your party". I told the DM I'm sorry they felt that way, but in my mind it wasn't intentional to kill the dude I simply wanted to like give him a warning. The DM said I was teaching the others bad morale and cooperation, and brought up me running during the oneshot and how I doomed everyone else and it was shitty. I felt bad apologized and said I would think about what they said and then thanked them (that's the customer service representative in me lol).

Well the next week was the week prior to our break. I asked what time we were meeting and was told we weren't meeting this week by the DM. Okay that works. Well, turns out they DID meet. I found out after exroyal messaged me and asked if I felt better and what they can do for me. Apparently, DM told everyone I was having a flare up, when I wasnt. I am not a confrontational person, but I texted DM saying I didn't appreciate that they lied and DM replied saying that it was my fault for playing DND the way I did.

As a few of them messaged me individually, so I texted all the members individually and told them I was not sick and stated that DM had told me there wasn't a session.

Well, we decided to meet at my place and not tell DM. We didn't play DND but a board game. DM found out and started calling me an asshole and how they've been accommodating for me with my illness and the sessions, which they have. DM says they made one mistake and am punishing them for it. I have a lot of anxiety and do feel bad now... AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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thefirstknife · 7 months

Text

New article with more details (from Jason Schreier who first broke the story). If you can't see it, I'll copy the whole text under read more.

About 100 employees were laid off in total (8%) and one of the main reasons listed is "underperformance," "sharp drop in popularity" and "poor reception of Lightfall."

So you know when for the last year and a half content creators have been shitting and pissing on the game as a full-time job and the amount of negativity and ragebait content became the only thing to make content about for them? Well they certainly won't take the blame, but I will let it be known. These people either don't understand the influence they have or they do and they're doing it on purpose, and I don't know which of these two options is worse, but I am 100% confident that their campaign of rage and hate contributed to this.

You don't base your entire community around constantly hating everything about the only game you play (despite clearly not enjoying it anymore) and somehow avoid galvanising thousands and thousands of people into perceiving the game negatively. Imagine being employees who have barely worked there for 2 years and the only community reception they've seen is 24/7 hate train for their work and then they get fired because of "poor reception" and "drop in popularity." How can they not take that personally? I am absolutely devastated for these people who delievered a banger product and who were met with an unrelenting barrage of toxic gamer children which ended up having more sway over their boss than them.

Which brings me to the next bit and that's FUCK THE CEO. He is now my mortal enemy #1. I am projecting psychic blasts directly into his brain. What an absolute spineless coward who is more willing to bow down to fucking gamers than to protect his own employees. This is absolutely rage inducing because this has happened before. From the article from 2021 about the toxic culture at Bungie:

Reading this shit from the new article absolutely fucking sent me into blind rage because I immediately remembered this. Another instance of employees suffering because of comments on reddit. And because of toxic players. And proof that leadership is not protecting employees and is instead siding with players.

Match made in heaven. Asshole gamer content creators and asshole CEOs, all of whom sit at home on piles of money made from someone else's labour. I hope they all explode. None of the people that worked on this game deserve this.

Another article with an infuriating comment from the CEO:

In an internal town hall meeting addressing a Monday round of layoffs that impacted multiple departments, Bungie CEO Pete Parsons allegedly told remaining employees that the company had kept “the right people” to continue work on Destiny 2.

"Kept the right people." Really. Veteran composers weren't the right people? Die!

Bloomberg article in full:

Bungie’s decision to cut an estimated 100 jobs from its staff of about 1,200 followed dire management warnings earlier this month of a sharp drop in the popularity of its flagship video game Destiny 2. Just two weeks ago, executives at the Sony-owned game developer told employees that revenue was running 45% below projections for the year, according to people who attended the meeting. Chief Executive Officer Pete Parsons pinned the big miss on weak player retention for Destiny 2, which has faced a poor reception since the release of its latest expansion, Lightfall. The next expansion, The Final Shape, was getting good — not great feedback — and management told those present that they planned to push back the release to June 2024 from February, according the people, who asked not to be identified because they weren’t authorized to speak publicly. The additional time would give developers a chance to improve the product. In the meantime, Parsons told staff Bungie would be cutting costs, such as for travel, as well as implementing salary and hiring freezes, the people said. Everyone would have to work together to weather the storm, he said, leaving employees feeling determined to do whatever was needed to get revenue back up. But on Monday morning the news got worse: Dozens of staffers woke up to mysterious 15-minute meetings that had been placed on their calendars, which they soon learned were part of a mass layoff. Bungie laid off around 8% of its employees, according to documentation reviewed by Bloomberg. Bungie didn’t respond to requests for comment. Employees who were let go will receive at least three months of severance and three months of Bungie-paid COBRA health insurance, although other benefits, such as expense reimbursements, ended Monday, sending some staff racing to submit their receipts. Laid-off staffers will also receive prorated bonuses, although those who were on a vesting schedule following Sony Group Corp.’s acquisition of Bungie in January 2022 will lose any shares that weren’t vested as of next month. The layoffs are part of a larger money-saving initiative at Sony’s PlayStation unit, which has also cut employees at studios such as Naughty Dog, Media Molecule and its San Mateo office. TD Cowen analyst Doug Creutz wrote in a report Monday that “events over the last few days lead us to believe that PlayStation is undergoing a restructuring.” PlayStation president Jim Ryan announced last month that he plans to resign. Many of the layoffs at Bungie affected the company’s support departments, such as community management and publishing. Remaining Bungie staff were informed that some of those areas will be outsourced moving forward.

#destiny 2 #bungie #long post #and like i don't care what's anyone's opinion on lightfall. it doesn't matter #the expansion is fine. there's some bad shit in there as there is in every expansion #literally nothing on this earth was so bad to deserve the amount of vitriol that lightfall got #it was purely motivated by hate and rage from people who have clearly lost their interest in the game a long time ago #no one else normal enough would respond even to a weaker expansion this way. and lightfall wasn't even weaker #literally nothing ever released in destiny deserves to have comments bad enough to end up affecting employees #there's been some bad expansions/dlcs/seasons. whatever. none of them were like... gollum level. not even close #people genuinely treated lightfall like it personally killed their dog. it was insane. the reaction to it was insane.#it stemmed from people who should have stopped playing a long time ago and stopped being content creators for one game #i can't even properly explain just how long and tireless the ragebait content campaign for destiny has been #opening youtube and seeing 10 videos in a row of just complaining and bitching #opening twitter and seeing thousands upon thousands of posts and comments dedicated solely to hating the game #imagine being an employee trying to maintain some communication with the community #hippy was relentlessly bullied by people I've seen suddenly lamenting that she was fired. you caused this #they will never accept even a miniscule portion of the blame for this ofc. they will just keep claiming they don't have that influence #but they do. it's been proven years ago. in the same way #community comments DO reach devs and community comments DO influence what happens to them and the game #'the event is bad' 'meta is bad' 'pvp is bad' 'raid is bad' 'story is bad' stop playing. no longer asking.#it's a video game. if you hate it stop playing. you don't have to justify it to hundreds of thousands of people and take them with you #especially when it leads to employees taking the fall #so to all content creators who are appalled and baffled after spending 2 years hating the game: you did this.#and to the ceo even more: explode into dust and be forgotten

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

The Campaign (modern!HOTD)

Part 1 of The Campaign

pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: Your support for Rhaenyra Targaryen's political campaign takes an interesting turn when you find yourself face to face with your arch nemesis (enemies to lovers trope).

warnings: NSFW 18+ (explicit sex, fingering, p*ssy slapping, degrading language, oral m-receiving, finger sucking), general language

word count: 3.5k

note: I just really wanted some Aemond filth on this Monday afternoon, I hope you enjoy my loves!

You casually sip on your second glass of wine for the night, letting the soft sound of low-playing jazz roll over you. You used to love events like this. Getting dressed up and smiling for pictures, pressed between your parents. The picture-perfect family.

It was easier when the elections were local, the politics of your backyard. You played the role of the good girl next door well, but it grew tiresome as you grew older. But your family’s role in politics became greater and suddenly you found yourself at another reelection campaign dinner, surrounded by sharks.

Your parents were smiling now, enraptured in conversation with Rhaenyra Targaryen, a popular candidate they were backing. This election was supposed to be historic, Rhaenyra was running against her half-brother, who was not present this evening, though very well represented. You take another sip of wine, watching the show in front of you.

You know he’s here somewhere.

Jace Velaryon walks up to you, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. Not who you were talking about. He wraps a hand casually around your waist, playing the part perfectly. You and Jace aren’t really dating, just putting on a little show to gather some publicity for your parents. Works like a charm.

Good girl next door dating the perfect boy next door.

A story for the ages.

Your eyes flicker around the room. He has to be here.

Aemond Targaryen rarely misses an opportunity to support his family.

And to annoy you. But who’s counting?

You and Aemond have known each other since grade school; both funneled into private school when your parents became more well-known. You quickly began to hate each other, both of you top students always battling back and forth for the number one spot in classes. He was such a pretentious ass.

You finally spot him across the room, next to his grandfather of course. Everything is a learning opportunity for Aemond. He’s dressed in a dark suit, a green pocket square the only pop of color. Your eyes flicker to the dark-haired beauty on his arm, dressed in a deep blue cocktail dress.

Floris Baratheon.

The drama of the evening. Her family notably always supported Rhaenyra’s campaign, but when the tabloids spotted Aemond on a trip to Storm’s End, everything turned upside down.

Quite the scandal.

You meet Aemond’s eyes, blue and violet, his gaze reminiscent of a shark. Dating my ass, you think to yourself. Everything in this world is a game.

Aemond looks away, not acknowledging he’s seen you. Typical. You’ll peruse the crowd for a while, circling each other until the opportunity comes to lunge at each other’s throats. The usual game you two play with one another.

It comes sooner than you expect when you peel yourself from Jace’s grip to get a third glass of wine. They’re being stingy with the pours, it’s barely a sip. You thank the bartender when you hear his voice.

“If we look at the numbers there’s really no chance,” he says to Jason Lannister, motioning to the bartender for another drink.

Jason acknowledges you first, not without a quick scan of the black cocktail dress you wear. You can hardly blame him, you know you look hot. You force a tight smile.

“Good to see you,” Jason says nodding.

“Nice to see you too Jason,” you lean forward, politely kissing his cheek, “Aemond.”

Aemond returns your tight smile with one of his own, taking a sip of the new glass of whiskey in his hand. The ring that bears his family crest catches the light as he swallows.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Ah! Ms. Y/L/N,” Jeyne Arryn says, sliding up to the bar and smiling, “I thought I recognized you, but I had to come over to make sure!”

You smile brightly. Lights, camera, action.

“So nice to see you Ms. Arryn,” you tell her, kissing her cheek.

“Please, call me Jeyne,” she insists, “I’m so happy you are here, I find these events terribly dull.”

“As do I,” you tell her, earnestly, “but that’s what I love about Rhaenyra Targaryen, you know? She makes these events so worth it, it's really time well spent.”

“Is that so?” Jeyne asks.

“Oh yes, she really understands the need for addressing critical issues while also not wasting anyone’s time,” you glance around the room, “Not to be a gossip, but you just don’t see other politicians making that effort.”

“I see,” Jeyne says nodding.

Aemond lowers his head beside you. God you fucking annoy him. Your fake sweet voice that floats around the room as you continue to talk to Jeyne, the smell of your perfume. Good Girl by Carolina Herrera. The exact opposite of what Aemond knows you are. You flash him a look, eyebrow raised as you escort Jeyne Arryn to Rhaenyra to converse. Aemond knows you. You’re a predator just like him.

Entertaining Jeyne Arryn is easy enough, but you put on a good show reeling her in. The rest of the evening is exhausting, spent campaigning for Rhaneyra and biting your tongue. Politicians can be such dicks.

Aemond finds you once more when you’re returning your glass.

“Well done,” he tells you.

“You could have tried a little harder,” you tell him, taking out your lipstick, “Where’s Aegon anyway? Scared?”

“Yeah right,” Aemond says, finishing his drink, “These things aren’t important to him.”

You use a small mirror from your purse to adjust your lipstick.

“Funny,” you tell him, pouting, “I could have sworn Aegon loves a good party.”

It’s low-hanging fruit, but it riles Aemond up all the same. You know exactly what buttons to push. He hums, staring you down, but you can tell he’s pissed. Aegon’s a retired party boy, you haven’t got your hands on all the stories yet but you know there are juicy ones. Ones to ruin political careers. But that’s the hard thing, dealing with families with money. It buries things.

You smile sweetly at him, as Jace finds you once more.

“Almost ready to go?” he asks, draping an arm over your waist.

You stare at Aemond a moment more, before turning your gaze to Jace and nodding.

“I just need to get my coat,” you tell him, “Then we can start saying our goodbyes?”

“Sounds good,” Jace tells you, smiling at Aemond.

You walk quickly out of the ballroom, toward the coat closet. To your dismay, a small card that reads back in a moment rests on the counter, the window shut. You tap your foot impatiently waiting for the coat checker to return. Minutes tick by and your impatience grows.

“Fuck it,” you hiss to yourself, and try the door to the side.

Luckily, it's unlocked and you walk inside the spacious closet, full of different coats. You paw through the expensive fabrics searching for your own.

“Impatient,” Aemond’s voice is behind you.

You don’t bother turning around as you continue searching for your coat.

“Need some help?”

“Not from you,” you snap, continuing your search.

Aemond chuckles and you freeze, turning to face him.

“Could you be any more insufferable?” you ask your annoyance at a tipping point.

“Probably,” he answers with a shrug.

You roll your eyes, humming.

“Go away, Aemond,” you tell him, but he doesn’t leave.

“I don’t think you really want that,” he says smoothly, causing your brows to furrow.

“Trust me, it’s all I want right now,” you think for a moment, “well, that and going home having a hot bath, and saying goodnight with my vibrator. This evening has fucked me enough already, might as well get off.”

“Velaryon not doing it for you?” he asks with a tone of curiosity.

You smirk at him.

“You want to know how my boyfriend fucks me?” you ask.

Aemond scoffs.

“Boyfriend? Please,” Aemond chuckles, “That little show out there might fool everyone else, but not me sweetheart.”

You stare at him for a moment, mouth twisting into a frown. You don’t like being called out, let alone by Aemond.

“Doesn’t mean he’s not fucking me,” you tell him.

Aemond merely chuckles again.

“He’s not fucking you,” Aemond says, hands in his pockets, “You’d be much more pleasant if you were getting off more frequently.”

“Is that why you’re such a peach?” you ask him, causing his eyes to narrow, “Floris must be sucking you dry on the daily, huh?”

You watch as Aemond’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek. Gotcha. You laugh slightly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“And here I thought you were all over that,” you tease, “Maybe I should go out there, and see what you’re missing out on.”

“Whatever,” Aemond says, shrugging, “Be my guest.”

“Maybe I will,” you continue, “She seems pretty unsatisfied.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Aemond snaps, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“Please, I am just getting started,” you counter, ignoring his rising anger.

It feels good getting a rise out of him like you’re flexing a muscle you haven’t worked in forever.

The party was just a warm-up compared to the fights you and Aemond have gotten into.

“Honestly, I didn’t think you had it in you,” you tell him, “Did you call TMZ yourself on your way to Storm’s End?”

You walk closer to him.

“You pay some photographer to take those raunchy photos on her family’s yacht?” you ask, standing right in front of him now.

“Got any more tricks up your sleeve, Targaryen?” you ask.

“You don’t even know,” he says smirking, “What about you and Velaryon? You expect me to believe you were just careless?”

You know what he’s talking about. The photos that revealed your ‘relationship’ a month ago outside a little coffee shop.

“I was careless,” you answer, making a pouty face, “Jace and I are in love.”

“Bullshit,” he says, barking out a laugh, “Got to hand it to you, you’re a good actress.”

“Fuck you,” you tell him, the sweet facade dropping, “I hate you so much.”

Then his mouth is on yours, his hand securely on the back of your neck, the other painfully squeezing your waist, dragging you flush against him. You gasp against his mouth in surprise as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. His hands move down to grab your ass, squeezing the soft flesh painfully.

You moan as he does so and he takes the opportunity to bite your lower lip, dragging it outwards. Aemond wrestles his hand underneath your dress, parting your legs, dipping his fingers below the waistband of your lace panties. He lets a long finger stroke through your dripping folds.

“You’re pretty wet for someone who hates me,” he taunts, slapping your pussy, “Fucking pathetic.”

You twitch against him as he delivers another painful slap to your throbbing clit. Your hands tangle in his silky hair as he sinks two long fingers into you, crooking them against your spongy walls. The tips of his fingers press into the rough spot inside of you that has you gasping against his hot mouth.

“Oh, is that good?” Aemond asks, thumb circling your clit.

“Fu-fuck you,” you manage, biting your lip as continues to fuck you with his fingers.

“I plan to,” he answers, “After we put those pretty lips to better use.”

You slam your head back into the wall, the blow is cushioned by a fur coat that got pinned between your back and the wall. Aemond lowers his head to your neck, sucking and kissing the smooth skin. Aemond’s fingers work magic inside of you, creating a wave of pleasure in your abdomen about to crest. Your legs begin to shake and Aemond lifts his head, a sly smile on his face.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum,” he scolds, but he continues thrusting his fingers, swirling his thumb around your sensitive bud.

Tears well in the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t,” you whine, feeling helpless as your orgasm washes over you.

Your vision goes white as you clench around his slender digits, a rush of wetness coating your inner thighs. Aemond makes a tsking sound as you come down from your high, before removing his fingers from you. His face is disapproving as you regulate your breathing, feeling flushed.

“As I said,” he shakes his head, “Pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” you snap, dropping to your knees.

Aemond smiles down at you as you begin to unbuckle his pants. You can feel how hard he is through the fabric of his pants. You try to keep your face neutral as you release him, but you’re shamefully impressed by his thick length, how he’s already twitching and leaking precum. You spit on your palm before you take him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his length. You pump your hand around him, once, twice, and lean forward when he stops you with a hand under your chin.

You look up through your lashes, momentarily confused before he’s shoving his fingers between your parted lips. You can taste yourself on the slender digits and gag slightly as he presses them deeper into your mouth. Aemond smirks down at you.

“Show me how much you want to suck my cock,” he tells you, “And clean up the mess you made.”

You feel a new rush of desire between your legs at his instructions but do as you’re told, greedily sucking on his fingers, while continuing to pump his cock with your hand. Aemond hums with approval.

“I guess you do know how to listen, who knew?” he taunts, yanking his fingers from your mouth.

A string of saliva connects you to him before he wipes his hand on some unfortunate person’s coat. You look up at him, watch his lip curl and know another smart-ass comment is about to be hurled your way, so you lean forward quickly, engulfing him in the wet heat of your mouth.

Effectively shutting him up.

Aemond lets out a breathy moan, he quickly silences by biting his lip. His hand finds the back of your head as you bob your head around his length. You want him whimpering, you want him shaking as he made you, so you remove your head before spitting on his pulsating cock making it as sloppy as possible.

It works, eliciting a whimper from the tall Targaryen as he hits the back of your throat. Your eyes beam triumphantly as you let him slip through your lips, wrapping them around his tip and sucking hard. The salty taste of him lingers on your tongue and you hold back a moan as you flatten your tongue over his slit. He hisses through his teeth as you take him fully once more, raising a hand to fondle his heavy-set balls.

“Fuuuck,” he moans, before gripping the back of your head and pulling you from his length.

You laugh breathlessly, mascara beginning to run, your mouth a puffy ruined mess.

“Pussy,” you taunt, as he drags you to your feet.

He turns you to face the wall, pushing you through the coat racks and pressing you against it.

“You were so much prettier with my cock shutting you up,” he tells you, lifting your dress and dragging the lace panties you wear down to your ankles.

You step out of them to assist him, listening as he pulls a condom from his wallet. He tears the foil with his teeth, rolling the condom on his hard length.

“Better shut me up then,” you challenge.

Aemond chuckles, bunching your panties in his hand before shoving them in your mouth. Your eyes widen slightly as he angles himself behind you, pushing the head of his cock through your folds. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction but he feels so fucking good stretching you open; you squeeze your eyes tightly shut to focus on anything besides the pulsing ache between your legs that matches your thundering heartbeat in your chest.

Aemond rolls his hips and your eyes roll back into your head. You whimper against the lace in your mouth as the sound of wet slapping fills the small space. One of Aemond’s hands clings to your waist, pulling you toward him to meet his brutal thrusts and the other wraps around your neck. You can feel Aemond’s breath near your ear as he continues his unrelenting pace.

“Keep making those sounds, I’m only going to fuck you harder,” Aemond says in your ear, increasing his thrusts to make his point perfectly clear.

You try to retort back something along the lines of ‘I’m barely making any noise you prick’ but it comes out a muffled moan as he sloppily kisses the side of your neck.

A noise distracts you momentarily, as the door to the coat closet opens. Aemond and you freeze, your walls clenching around his cock as he stills. You turn your head, meeting his eyes. Aemond purses his lips, silently shushing you. Your eyes are wide as you hear the coat check move around.

“Sorry ma’am, we’re a bit short-staffed tonight. I need to be in two places at once!” the coat check says, rummaging through the coats to your left.

You close your eyes, hoping you’re hidden enough behind the coats that you won’t be found out. Your heart pounds, matching the pulsing of Aemond inside you. The bastard is still rock hard, warming his cock inside of you.

“Here you go ma’am,” the coat check says, “Thank you for your patience.”

The door opens once more and closes with a click as the coat check leaves. Aemond and you are still for a moment longer, and then he chuckles.

“Fuck, I could stay just like this,” Aemond teases, “make you my personal little cock sleeve.”

You glare at him and he begins his thrusts once more, easily sliding in and out of your slippery folds.

“I think that made you even wetter, huh?” he taunts, balls slapping against your ass, “You like that idea? Getting caught being my little cockslut?”

Aemond moans at the thought, a shiver rolling through you as he pounds into you. He’s so deep, you’re sure you feel him in your stomach as you clench around him. The wet squelching of your soaked cunt is humiliating, but he feels so fucking good you can’t find it in you to care at the moment.

You whimper, feeling the familiar wave of pleasure build in your abdomen, a pleasurable burning coursing through your veins like you’ve been dipped in fire. Aemond’s hand tightens around your throat and you babble against the panties in your mouth. He lifts a finger, plunging it through your lips and tearing the material from your mouth.

“I’m going to cum,” you whimper, free from the gag.

“Are you?” he asks, a cocky grin on his face, “What do we say?”

You bite your lip as he angles his hips, thrusting his cock perfectly against your sweet spot, and your legs begin to tremble.

“Can I cum?” you ask through gritted teeth, heat flooding your face.

Aemond’s answering grin is sadistic.

“Is that any way to ask?”

You glare at him, lips set in a tight frown.

“Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please can I cum, Aemond?”

“Go ahead,” he says, “Soak my cock like the greedy, little slut you are.” Each word is punctuated with a thrust of his hips slamming into you.

With a final strangled moan, you’re trembling, falling over the edge and taking Aemond with you. Your mind turns to mush as he thrusts a final time before finding his own release with an elongated groan.

For a moment, Aemond rests his head against your back as you both regulate your breathing. Then he’s unsheathing himself, removing the condom and buttoning his pants, as you shimmy your dress back over your ass, reaching for your discarded panties. You step in them quickly, smoothing them under your dress. Aemond tosses the used condom in a trashcan.

You fix your hair, and blot the corners of your eyes with the tips of your fingers, trying to fix the ruined mascara. You wipe at your lips too, certain your lipstick is completely gone, most likely staining Aemond’s cock. Aemond wets his own lips, before wiping them with his hand and smoothing his hair. He clears his throat before reaching forward, grabbing your coat from a hanger.

You snatch it from his hand, before leaving the room, heading back to the ballroom not looking back. You spot Jace and plaster a smile on your face, despite the ache between your thighs, and your trembling legs.

“Hey! They want to take one more picture,” Jace tells you before frowning slightly.

You look into his eyes.

“What?” you ask.

“You have-uh,” he motions to his neck, “Is that a hickey?”

His comment gathered some attention, and a woman turns to look at you. You smile, laughing brightly, pressing a kiss to Jace’s cheek.

“Honey, what did I tell you about leaving marks?” you tell him, wrapping a hand around his waist, “We’re not a couple of teenagers.”

“I think it’s adorable,” the woman says, smiling now, “You two are clearly crazy about each other.”

You smile, and give her a polite laugh, spotting Aemond reappearing on the other side of the room. He meets your eyes before Floris joins him, beckoning him toward his grandfather’s table.

Crazy is one way to put it.

Note: Teehee I hope you enjoyed this! As always, likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated, I LOVE hearing your thoughts! Until next time besties 💖

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eddiesguitarskills · 1 month

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It can’t all be bullshit Part 2

Read part 1 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no Steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this is all I've written for the story, so I won't be as fast updating. Also, I'm sorry I write a lot for female-presenting readers it's just I find it easier to write it like that, especially with my dyslexia. However, if you guys want I can start reuploading the story with non-gender descriptions just might take it longer to edit it.

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, sexual themes but no smut readers discretion is advised. Drug and alcohol use, and swearing.

word count 3.7kish

Monday morning came around quickly, which you were glad about. The sooner you could get away from that awful weekend, the better. Eddie hadn’t remembered anything from that night, or if he did, he didn't mention it. You were also glad that you didn’t want another argument, and you definitely didn’t want details on his love life. Not that you hadn’t thought about it, your brain was too cruel to not make you dwell on it, you also thought about Harrington was he okay? Not that you cared about him of course just one human looking out for another. If you happen to be looking around to see if he made it to school that would be out of curiosity not because you cared. Thankfully his locker was near to yours so you would eventually see how he was, to be honest with how the gossip spreads in this school you would hear about it eventually if the king and queen of Hawkins really had broken up.

I don't hear anything about it until a week later at lunch. You were a little late as you had been stuck talking to your English teacher, Miss Plant, and you felt too rude to leave despite the rumbling in your stomach. As soon as you got to the table, a conversation began. “Do you reckon his head hurt?” Eddie joked. “Whose head?” you said while sitting in your seat beside Eddie. “The king when he fell from his throne”. You were beyond confused. Were they talking about a new campaign? You couldn't remember a king in your current D&D campaign. Maybe you had been too busy dazing at your leader at the meetings to notice if there was a new character. You didn't want to feel stupid, so you nodded like you understood. It wasn't until the conversation continued and you heard the mention of Nancy Wheeler you understood. You knew Eddie and Steve didn't like each other, but some of his words seemed too harsh. You saw what Harringtons' wrath could be like, and you didn't want Eddie on the receiving end. You picked at your peas, not daring to look up, and you knew how they would all tease you about nagging again. “Maybe we shouldn't talk about this”. Eddie raised his eyebrow, stopping his rant. “Why are you scared?” he challenged. You shrugged back.

Everyone was surprised. You hadn't nagged, you hadn't come back at him, you had stayed remarkably calm. Eddie wanted to see how long it would take you to snap, but he didn't have a chance when Chris, taking the hint, changed the subject. “So when’s the date, Eddie?” Not realising this would be the thing to make you snap. Since when did he have a date? Indeed it wasn't with what's her face from the party? You thought he didn't remember anything from that party, and if he did, why hadn't he apologised to you yet? “Well, she wanted to come over on Thursday, but I don't know” he looked at you to gauge a reaction; that was your weekly bowling night. Don't shout. It's okay. It's only the night you look forward to most, and you don't have much to look forward to. It doesn't matter. Well, maybe it does, but not to him anymore. “Have fun” you say standing to leave the table, dumping the food on your tray. Any hunger you had felt had gone and was replaced with nausea.

You needed somewhere to hide because you weren’t going to the next period. You needed someone to cry or scream or both. So you disappeared to Eddie’s spot in the woods. You hold onto yourself for warmth, looking down, trying to be careful not to trip on the twigs hidden in the mud. You finally make it to the table without an accident when you see out of the corner of your eye a guy. You pray it's not Eddie or someone here for a deal. It was the last thing you needed. You weren't sure if you would keep your cool this time round, especially with the stupid tears that kept lining your eyes.

“I didn't think anyone else would be here”, he spoke. It wasn't Eddie, but it was someone you also didn't want to bump into. You hoped after that night you would never have to come face to face with Harrington again. “Sorry, I can go,”you say, hoping to make a swift exit. “No, it's fine, I don't own the woods”.

There is an awkward silence. You debated getting up to leave, but you were stuck there frozen. “Looks like I’m not the only one having a shit day.” You don’t dare look up. Yeah, you were having a bad day, but it didn’t feel right to compare it to a breakup. “Mine nothing compare to yours”. You look up quickly. You didn’t mean it to sound that way. “No, I meant I’m fine. I’m sorry about what happened”. God, did you sound as dumb as you thought? “So I guess everyone knows now”. You shake your head “just because I know doesn’t mean everyone knows”.

He weakly chuckles, but there is no humour behind it: “It kind of does. It’s made its way down to the bottom of the food chain”. Steve’s eyes widened. Shit, he didn’t mean to sound like that. “No offence”. He couldn’t help being how he was. Having to put up an act for so long makes it hard to realise when he was being a dick. “None taken”. You shrug. You were used to the name-calling by jocks, so his words felt like nothing. “So what happened to you?” You twiddle with the ring Eddie gave you on a chain. “Don’t worry about me”. Steve smiles. “It’d be nice to worry about something else for a change. So is it a guy?” You laugh at him. “Do you think all girl's problems revolve around a guy?”. He nods.” Well, that is very guy-like of you, but yeah, you’re right. This time, it’s a guy.” Steve’s face lights up with a smirk. “I knew it! So what happened.” You go to speak but look up, realising it is not a friend you are talking to. It’s a popular kid. Even worse than that, it’s the king of Hawkins high. “Just typical guy stuff.”

Steve took the hint you didn’t want to get into it, so they changed the subject. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but Can you not tell anyone I was here? If Principal Coleman finds out I cut, I’m dead” You almost wanted to laugh; the Principal would find out, but looking at his face, you knew he was deadly serious. “who would I tell?” He shook his shoulders. “I don’t know”. You smiled. “Exactly. I’m gonna have to start charging you for all the secrets I keep”. He looked utterly lost. “Huh?”

Eddie sauntered over, his metal lunch box in hand. He could only see Harrington and the back of a girl’s head. So he didn’t know who it was. “My spots are popular today. I’ve even got King Steve, and I assume his new plaything here.” You turn around to face him. Now was not the time for his antics. “Leave it, Eddie” you sneered. The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Absolutely not” he grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the woods away from Steve.

After many tries, you finally got out of Eddie’s grasp. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”. The boy rolled his eyes, “saving you”. You repeated his facial expression, “I didn’t need saving”. He tutted and slung his arm around you. “You were about to be Harrington’s next prey; trust me, you needed saving.” You pushed him off. “We were just talking”. Eddie looked at you like he was telling off a child, not a friend and definitely not someone he fancied “That’s how it starts”. You hated that he treated you like you didn’t know how the world worked. “I don’t see why you care”. He shook his head. “I’m your best friend, of course I care”. There it was, the famous last words of any crush. You were officially friend-zoned, and you would never get out of that. You felt deflated, so you just nodded and followed him to his van and then trailer.

A month later you were going to another party this time it was your idea. Getting over this crush had been more challenging than you had planned, so you decided to do something the opposite of what you usually would. Tonight, you would act like all the other teenagers and drink till you forget. Or find someone to help you forget. When you told Eddie you were going, he insisted he took you despite your protests. How are you supposed to get over someone when he doesn't leave you alone? You had bought an outfit for tonight because your usual outfit of jeans and a tee didn’t feel fitting. So you bought a red tight spaghetti strap dress, you thought about wearing heels you put them on, but as soon as you wobbly stood up like Bambi on ice, you realised it wasn't the best idea, so you put on your black trusty Converse. It's nice to have familiarity and not feel like Bambi on ice when trying to catch someone up. You hear several impatient beeps outside; you would think you had made him wait for hours when he had only just arrived 30 minutes late, of course. Life is always on Eddie’s schedule. You just wanted to get to the party and out of his sight, so you grabbed your bag put on a layer of lipgloss and ran outside to Eddie’s van.

He had the window down. He looked at your outfit and shook his head. “You’re gonna freeze”. You were sick of his new habit of babying you; was this what you sounded like to him? Was this just him mocking you? The girl from the last party poked her head out. “I think you look hot. I’m Sasha (sorry if this is your name she is nice though) by the way”. You nod. “Y/n”, he brought her, of course he brought her. She was nice. Why did she have to be nice? It's easier to dislike someone when they are a bitch, not a beautiful soul like hers. You were even more jealous now you wish you could be more like her than you. You got into the back of the van as Eddie drove (over the speed limit) to the party. Sasha was super friendly along the way and kept asking you questions to get to know Eddie’s best friend more. The boy stayed quiet, in thought. He was struggling to keep his eyes on the road as he kept looking at you through the rearview mirror in disbelief.

When you finally got to the party, you found your way to the punch bowl, the pair not leaving your side. You picked up a red cup, filling it with the content of the bowl, whenever that may be. Before you could even put it to your lips. Eddie took the cup from your hands, pouring it back into the bowl, Tutting at you. “Are you okay tonight? You’re acting weird”. God, you were sick of his stupid face and stupid comments, but then it struck you this was your way out from the couple, from him. “You know I’m feeling a little weird. I’m gonna go to the toilet… it’s probably because of my period”. It was a lie, but you knew it would stop him from following you.

You went up the stairs and poked your head into a room, hoping it would be the bathroom. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t; Steve Harrington sat on a bed, his leg tapping anxiously and anxiously. why did you two seem to have a universal magnet. “Sorry”. He looked up at you. You went to leave but were stopped by his voice calling, “Wait, you’re the girl who ditched me”.

“The girl?” You repeated him. “I have a name. It’s y/n, and I wouldn’t exactly call it ditched.” He laughed, getting up and shutting the door behind you. “What would you call it? I know it’s not your fault, though, was your boyfriend jealous?”. You glare at the thought, “he’s not my boyfriend”. He laughs. “Does he know that?” You turn to leave. “I’m not in the mood for whatever this is”. He holds your hand not too tightly, so if you want to go, you can, bringing you to the bed to sit down. You are stocked by yourself that you don't push him away, but the gentleness of this action makes your heart flutter. Maybe Steve Harrington could help you forget. “So he’s the one that made you cry”. Maybe not. You put your hands on your face, embarrassed “Is it that obvious?”. He pulls your hands away from your face, shaking his head. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t see how beautiful you are”. You want to smile at his words, but they make you cringe. “Is this how you get all the girls?” He sighs. God, he had just been broken up with; maybe it was too soon to mention girls. “I’m sor-“ he puts a finger to your lip. “You apologise far too much”. You nod. “I just don’t want you to bite my head off again”, you mumble, fiddling with the end of your dress.

“When did I do that?” He had no clue what you were talking about, so why did you even mention it? “It doesn’t matter” you keep your eyes down. He uses his hand to lift your chin so you’re looking at him. “When did I do that?” He says as genuinely as he can. He was trying to be better, a more likeable guy, and if he wanted to do that, he needed to right his wrongs. “It wasn’t your fault; it probably just seems worse in my head because I wasn’t enjoying myself…and Eddie was being a dick and-“ he puts his hand on yours to calm you. “It was Halloween; I think you and Nancy had just had an argument. I guess you needed someone to take your rage out on, and I just happened to be there”. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. Annoyed at himself, he couldn’t look at you. “It’s fine; I swear it wasn’t that bad. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here. You just told me to fuck off and said bullshit a lot”. He looks over at you. “So you know what happened with Nancy?” you nodded “I got the gist”. He nudged your shoulder with his “thanks for not telling anything”. You laugh. “As you said in the wood, I’m the bottom of the food chain. I've got no one to tell.”

He wanted to beat himself up; he had fallen so far into the idea of popularity that he became what he swore he would never be a dick. “You aren’t, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that.” You squeeze his hand. “Don’t go soft on me. I'm quite content being there . It means I can fade into the background”. He holds both of your hands and looks you up and down until his eyes land on yours. “Someone like you isn’t meant to fade into the background”. You don’t know what comes over you; maybe it’s how nice he’s being, that you had never been called pretty by a boy, or how handsome he looked, but you lean in and kiss him. Maybe it’s because you recognise the broken mess hidden behind his eyes. You instantly realise what you’ve done. You couldn’t blame alcohol for this. You had still never drank. You’re about to pull away when Steve brings his hands to your hips and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. “Where” kiss. “Do you” another peck “think” another “you’re going?” You giggle into his mouth and further the kiss. Your hips were rolling against his, which was out of your control, not that you or Steve minded. You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t taste the beer on his lips until he put his tongue in your mouth. You tried to ignore it, but after a few moments, that’s all-consuming your brain: the metallic taste of it.

Steve could tell you wasn’t really into it anymore, so he pulled away. He started to feel insecure. He hadn’t kissed a girl since Nancy had. Had he already lost his touch? “are you okay? Didn’t you like-“ you shake your head animatedly. The action makes your whole body shake against him, making him moan. God, he was super embarrassed now. He moved you off him before anything got more awkward, especially if you were to feel the semi he was sporting. Jesus, why were you so in your head about everything you had a way to forget, and you ruined it? “I really liked it” he refused to look at you, too self-conscious about the situation. He kept his eyes on the ceiling fan above him. “It’s fine, y/n”- you feel awkward, too, so you keep your eyes on the door in front of you. “I just get so in my head sometimes, and I don’t drink, so I tasted alcohol and- I don’t know” You got frustrated at yourself not being able to find words. You sounded like a complete idiot. No wonder Eddie didn’t want you.

Steve looked at you and started laughing, even though he thought you were stupid. “Wait, so the Alcohol is cock blocking me?” He wasn’t laughing at you. You felt a relief wash over you. He was laughing at the situation. His laugh was so contagious and charming you don’t think you’ve ever heard it. Before you know it, you can’t help but laugh too. “What did you think you were a bad kisser or something?”. He hit your shoulder playfully. “Of course not” He joked.

There were suddenly loud moans from the room next door. You both look in that direction and laugh again. You do a silly impression of the moan. Steve stops laughing and stares at you, surprised at how good you are at making that sound. She must have had a lot of practice faking it to be that good, he thought. The moaning next door suddenly got louder. You raised your eyebrow at him “wanna play a game?”. You don't know what had come over you, but something about him relaxed you. You didn't feel the anxiety you would feel around your friends, making sure they were safe. You just wanted to have fun. You hadn’t been like that in so long.

Free to just be yourself. He raised his eyebrows back. “I'm listening”. You moan again, louder this time. He didn't expect that. He wanted to laugh because it came from nowhere, but it turned him on. “Come on then”. (totally inspired by Easy A here) You whisper. He got the hint and moaned, too, not as loudly, though. You kept doing this back and forth, both getting more exaggerated and louder. It was hard not to laugh at how ridiculous you sounded. Next door suddenly got very quiet. “I think we won”, he nudged your arm. You burst out laughing. He had never noticed you before, but he was glad he had you tonight. He needed a laugh. He doesn't remember the last time he had actually had fun with worrying about the consequences.

There was a bang on the door. “Are you in there, y/n!?” you suddenly stop laughing and roll your eyes upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Looks like your boyfriend’s jealous again”, Steve joked without thinking. But he then started to panic that maybe you weren’t friends yet. Was it his place to jok- you smack his arm. “Shut it, bullshit boy” you tease back. He would have hated hearing that from anyone else. But from you, he didn't mind. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it's because there was no malice in your voice. Perhaps it's because you had made his awful night better. His week is better. There is another bang on the door “y/n!” you glare at the door. Of course, he had to ruin your fun.

Wasn't it bad enough that he was breaking your heart? “I should go before he bursts a vein or something”. You get up to leave despite the voice in your head telling you to stay. “Thank you for tonight. I really need it”. You kiss his cheek. He smiles, feeling his cheek getting warmer and his heart beating faster. No, he wasn’t ready; he couldn't let this happen like this. “ I'm trying to be better, so I don’t want to lead you on. I don’t want a girlfriend”. You shake your head, going to leave the room, and scoff, “In your dreams, bullshit boy”. He shouts after you, hoping you can hear, “I'm not sure about this new nickname”.

Outside the door, Eddie has his hands on his hips like a parent. “Were you just in there with Harrington?” he says the name like it’s venom. “Yeah, so” just because he was your best friend, he had no right to tell you who to hang out with. You used to think his protective side was endearing, but now it was annoying. You couldn’t say anything about who he hung out with, so he can’t say anything about who you choose to spend time with. Well, that’s what you thought, but Eddie had other ideas, “are you trying to kill me?” He asks like it’s a serious thing that could happen. “Oh yeah, top of my to-do list” There you were, the person Eddie loved, the one with a comeback for everything, but now wasn’t the time for him to bask in your teasing contest that he lived for. No, when there was only a door between you and Harrington, that was too close for comfort for Eddie. He wasn't sure what the new relationship between you and the ‘king’ was, but he didn't like it one bit.

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sanguineterrain · 8 months

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about first place | eddie munson

hey guys remember when i wrote for stranger things? lol.

so this is another installment of my about a boy series. you don't have to read them to understand this fic, but idk, you might like those too! check them out if you feel like :)

Summary: Eddie asks you to change plans. You spiral.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: intrusive (violent and one self-harm) thoughts, self deprecating thoughts, reader spirals, eddie is hurtful (by accident) to the reader, but they communicate and it's resolved. reader feels like they are cast aside and there is trauma behind that feeling. reader is sensitive to rejection and has trouble communicating.

my fics aren't intended to be used as models for perfect communication or anything like that HOWEVER this fic is intended to be a story about communication and building trust and navigating a partner's trauma. if these topics are triggering to you, DO NOT READ.

if you enjoy this, please let me know through reblogs (and a comment, if you feel like!)

divider by firefly-graphics | i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

Fridays are dinner nights with Eddie. Sometimes you do them on Saturday, but usually, every week, you two have dinner. It hasn’t gone on for very long; you’ve only just begun to feel comfortable eating in front of Eddie. But you like it. Sometimes Wayne joins you two. It feels like you have a home.

And after every dinner, you confirm with Eddie that he'll come over next week too. People like when you confirm plans in advance. You like when people confirm plans and keep their commitments.

You like that Eddie comes over. You like that he wants to come over.

The phone rings. You put down the wooden spoon and answer.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweet thing!" Eddie says. "Hey, so, I'm at Gareth's place right now, and our campaign is running long. It's so good, babe, I just created this new storyline and everybody loves it! Wheeler even said she might join next week. Am I a genius or what?"

You smile. "You're a genius, Eds. Nancy appreciates a good story; I’m not surprised you wowed her.”

"Aw, you flatter me, sweet thing. So, uh, I know I'm supposed to come over for dinner, but would it be okay if I took a rain check? Only because…"

You don't hear the rest of the sentence. The only thing that rings in your ears is rain check. Eddie's canceling. Eddie's sick of you.

"...Is that alright?" he finally asks. "I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow."

Your chest constricts. Eddie's expecting agreeability. He's expecting your acquiescence to the fact that he's sick of you.

"Sure," you say tightly.

There's a pause. Then, "So, I’ll swing by tomorrow?"

"No." You haven't prepared to interact with people tomorrow, you prepared for today. And tonight was planned a week in advance, but Eddie wants to change plans. Eddie cares more about Hellfire than spending time with you.

Eddie is just like the rest of them.

"How ‘bout Monday? Or later next week? I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing."

Your throat feels tight. You need to end the conversation now or your guts will unspool all over the floor and Eddie will hear you try to stuff them back into your stomach.

"It's fine. We don't need to reschedule. Bye."

You hang up. Immediately, your stomach hurts. Why should you feel guilty? Eddie abandoned plans that you made a week ago for his other friends. Eddie doesn't care about you. That's always how it goes. People hurt you and they don't care, and then you're the one who feels guilty for hanging up on them.

Thoughts of Eddie crashing his van or Eddie getting struck by lightning flash unbidden into your mind and your stomach ache gets worse. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you think those things? You don't want that to happen to Eddie. You love Eddie, even though you were bound to eat too much love and get a stomach ache.

You feel like doing something that would make your mother mad at you. You feel like digging your nails into the bathroom tile grout and scraping until you see the sun. You feel like carving scars into the kitchen table.

Goddammit, you need to stop the bad thoughts. Think good thoughts. Think thoughts normal people have. Pretend you're normal. Pretend you're loved.

You look at the pot of boiling water. Would Eddie come over if you stuck your hand in?

No, God, what's wrong with you? You fucking psycho. This is why no one keeps their plans with you! Eddie's job isn't to take care of you, to hold your hand and pet your hair and tell you he's happy to be here with you.

You're wrong, you were born wrong, and that's your problem, not his. That's why he's gone. That's why everybody leaves.

Knock knock.

You look at the door, spooked. Did someone hear your thoughts? Are they finally here to take you away?

"Sweet thing, you there? Can I please come in?"

If you let Eddie in, you'll have to tell him it's okay, and your guts will be there for him to see because you haven't cleaned them up yet, and he'll know you've been crying over him even though he called first which is more than you've ever been given before, and your stomach ache will triple and and and—

"It's open," you say.

Eddie comes in. Your face is impenetrable. Stone. No, concrete. No, obsidian. Your face is obsidian, and Eddie's got a plastic hammer. You'll win and you can scoop up your guts later.

"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Hey, sweetheart."

You take a step back. This is a trick.

"Why aren't you with your friends?" you ask, crossing your arms.

Eddie winces. "I’m sorry, baby. That was a mistake. I realized that after we hung up. I shouldn't have tried to reschedule. You and I made plans, and they're important to me. I ended the game—we're gonna meet next week."

"You can go. I don't care."

Eddie's mouth flattens. You've hurt his feelings, but he hurt yours first, but you don't want to hurt his at all, but but but��

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Eddie says. "I don't want to reschedule or ditch our plans. I wanna spend time with you, I do."

"I don't want you here," you say. "I want you to leave, Eddie. I don't forgive you."

Eddie's face crumples. But he nods. "Okay, baby. I-I'll leave if you want me to go. I respect your space. You don't have to forgive me right now."

Oh no. Eddie came prepared. Eddie has a diamond-tipped drill.

"I'm never first," you blurt.

Eddie tilts his head. "What do you mean?"

He's still gentle. He's still here. Even though you didn't forgive him. Even though you're mad at him. Even though you'll never be normal. He's listening anyway.

"No one puts me first. You did, but then you didn't tonight, even though I made plans enough time in advance. A week is enough time. People are supposed to stick to plans when you ask them a week ahead. It's my fault when I don't give them enough time, and it makes sense when they don't want to spend time with me then, but this time it wasn't my fault. You're supposed to decide you don't like me before this point. It hurts less when you decide earlier."

Your chest heaves. Eddie's stepping all over your guts. He tracks them across the carpet as he gets closer. You watch the bloody intestine footprints slop behind him.

"But you said yes. But then you wanted out. I'm never—I'm never first."

Eddie's face splinters further. "Oh, sweetheart—"

You wipe your eyes, pulling the skin hard.

"I do like you," he says, and your sob breaks. "I do. Nothing'll make me stop liking you. And I love you still. I didn't ask that because I don't like you. It-it doesn't matter why I asked, but avoiding you wasn't the reason. It was a thoughtless thing I did. I thought you wouldn't mind, but you do, and that's okay. That's valid. I want you to tell me that. I want you to say, "Eddie, you dummy, I love ya, but let's keep our plans," and I'll come home."

"You didn't want to," you say, and cry harder.

"No, baby, it's not like that at all. I wanted to do both, I like the idea of both. I always enjoy spending time with you. I thought maybe since we do this regularly, you wouldn't mind something different too."

You're overreacting. You're scary. This is wrong. This isn't how norm—fucking fuck that word!

"I'm sorry," you blubber, quivering in place.

Your legs feel weak. You lean against the counter for support.

Eddie shakes his head. He's a foot away.

"What're you apologizing for, baby? You don't have to apologize. I hurt you, not the other way around."

"I'm guilty," you say, crying into your hands. "I'm guilty too. I thought bad thoughts. I didn't mean to, but I did, and now you're here, but I want you to be here because you want to be, not because I… I…"

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

You nod, and Eddie's arms slide around you. Every time he hugs you, you're certain you won't fit together. But you always do.

"It's okay if you thought bad thoughts," Eddie says into your ear. You feel his voice vibrate through your chest. "You're not your thoughts. And it's okay if some of those thoughts were because you were hurting from what I said. I’m really sorry, sweet thing. I have angry thoughts too, sometimes. But that's all they are. Just thoughts. Just noise. They don't make you bad. You're good. So, so good."

You wrap your arms around Eddie's neck and hug hard. He squeezes you back just as tightly. The pressure feels good.

"I w-want you to hang out with friends, but I want you to k-keep our plans first," you say, and then brace yourself. You take great, big, shuddering breaths.

"That is a very reasonable ask, my love. I’ll do that from now on. And how 'bout if we want to change plans, we'll ask at least three days in advance? Is that fair?”

You nod against his shoulder. You stay like that, Eddie rubbing circles on your back. His curls tickle your wet cheek.

"Sorry I ruined it," you say.

"No, no, you didn't ruin anything. I made a mistake and we're learning how to communicate better. We’re learning.”

"I was scary."

"I don't think so, baby."

You're quiet for a moment. "I want you to stay and eat with me."

He squeezes your arm. "I would love nothing more, sweet thing."

You take the colander out of the cabinet. Eddie pushes your guts back into your stomach. No one's ever done that for you.

Perhaps you are loved. No pretending necessary.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x gn reader #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #eddie munson angst #about a boy

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vaspider · 3 days

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What's this? An update about the At The Gates crowdfunding campaign where @impernious mentions the Very Secret Upcoming Thing that we've been working on together? A few hints as to what the Very Secret Thing might be? The fact that it's another @theonyxpath & @nerdykeppie crossover event?

Welp. I guess y'all better go read the Monday Meeting Notes to see what that might be, and while you're clicking links, make sure to go and take a peek at the At The Gates campaign. If you haven't backed it yet, now's the time. It sure would be nice if we could get to, let's say, oh... 900 backers or so... by tomorrow.

No reason. Just. You know. That would be super cool.

#at the gates #ttrpg #ttrpgs #nerdykeppie #doot doot doot

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cyraclove · 4 days

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posting my wips that I’ll probably never get around to writing to free myself of them part 1

untitled high school musical (not the movie) au

“I got it! I got it!”

Eddie turns his head to see Dustin bounding into the black box, a delirious smile on his face. He skids to a stop right in front of the table, chest heaving as he rests his hands on his knees.

“I got it,” he wheezes. “I got…I got it.”

Crossing toward Dustin, Eddie grins as he crouches down to look up at him.

“Breathe, dickhead. You got what? The clap? Heard that’s making the rounds.”

Dustin snorts, coughing out a laugh.

“No, asshole,” he says. “I got the part. I’m Seymour.”

Eddie stands to hook an arm around Dustin’s neck, tugging him into his side as he pulls the brim of his cap over his eyes. Dustin cackles wildly.

“Fuck yeah, you are,” Eddie beams, holding Dustin in a headlock while he tries to wriggle free. “That’s fucking amazing, man.”

Dustin’s hat falls to the floor as he manages to slip out of Eddie’s grip. He shoots him another toothy smile before pulling him into a hug.

“Congrats, kid,” Eddie says as he claps him on the back. “And you thought you bombed that audition.”

“Shit, I really did,” Dustin says, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe it. Freshmen never get cast in lead roles.”

A familiar voice comes from the other side of the room.

“They do if they’re right for the part.”

Ms. Shapiro stands in the doorway leading into her office, leaning against the doorframe. A willowy woman fond of flowy scarves and big banana clips, she’s hard to miss.

She peers at Eddie through her green-rimmed glasses as he stares down at his feet, silently hoping that she hasn’t graded his tech theatre exam yet.

The look that she’s giving him tells him that she probably has.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Shapiro,” Dustin grins. “This is, like, a dream role for me. Oh, man. I just…you have no idea.”

“Don’t thank me,” Ms. Shapiro replies with a soft smile. “You gave a great audition. We’re lucky to have you.”

Dustin grins even wider, still flushed and starry-eyed.

There’s a warm tug inside of Eddie’s chest. Precious little bastard. He’s not sure he’s ever seen him this happy, not even after winning a campaign.

“You can come by and pick up your script and libretto whenever you want,” Ms. Shapiro tells Dustin. “First rehearsal is Monday right after last period.”

Nodding, Dustin hoists his backpack onto his shoulder.

“I gotta go call Steve,” he says, turning to Eddie, “but then I’ll be right back to play.”

“Hey, no rush,” Eddie assures him with a lazy wave. “I’m still settin’ up. Go bask in it, Streisand.”

Eddie crosses his arms as he leans against the table, chuckling to himself as Dustin all but sprints out into the hallway.

He and Ms. Shapiro exchange glances.

Expecting her to disappear back into her office, Eddie goes back to busying himself with getting ready for that afternoon’s game. He dares a peek in her direction out of the corner of his eyes.

She’s still there. Just staring at him.

“Sorry for the, uh, noise,” Eddie says with a sheepish chuckle. “Kid just got excited. Dreams coming true and all that.”

Ms. Shapiro hums in agreement but stays right where she is.

“You won’t hear another peep out of me,” Eddie continues, pulling an invisible zipper across his lips. “I mean, uh, until everyone else gets here.”

“I was hoping to have a word with you, actually,” Ms. Shapiro says. “Got a minute?”

Panic crawls down the nape of Eddie’s neck.

“Uh, sure,” he answers, nothing in his head but Fuck Fuck Fuckity Fuck. “What’s up?”

Ms. Shapiro walks briefly back into her office to take something off of her desk before making her way over to Eddie. She pulls out a chair and takes a seat, placing a crumpled sheet of paper on the table in front of her.

“I have your last exam right here,” she says calmly, sliding it towards him. “I have to say I’m surprised that you even showed up to take it, considering that I’ve marked you absent for almost every class this year.”

Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he looks down at the exam, a big, fat 27 glaring up at him in red pen. He huffs a laugh, running a hand across the back of his neck.

“I really tanked that one, huh?”

Ms. Shapiro cuts her eyes in his direction.

“Yes. You did.”

She sighs, sitting back against her chair.

“Look, I know that my class is the last period of your day. You’re a senior. And it’s a class that you don’t really care about.”

Guilt sticks in Eddie’s gut like a knife.

“I never said that I don’t—“

“But unless you’d like to be a senior again,” Ms. Shapiro interrupts pointedly, “you have to pass.”

He’d been busting his ass cramming for O’Donnell’s exam that he completely forgot about Shapiro’s. Eddie had walked into her class that day without so much as a pencil.

Eddie’s shoulders slump as he flops into the chair across from her, his face buried into his hands.

“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles. “Fuck.”

Ms. Shapiro clears her throat.

“Sorry. Shit.”

“Listen, Eddie. I like you. You’re a bright kid and I don’t want to see you stuck here another year,” Ms. Shapiro starts. “But we just don’t have a lot of time left in the school year, so you don’t have very many opportunities left to make this up.”

She absentmindedly toys with one of the figurines on the table. Eddie clenches his jaw as he resists the urge to snatch it from her hand.

“That’s why I have another option for you,” Ms. Shapiro starts. “Something you can do to fix your grade.”

Eddie studies her closely, eyes narrowing. “Like…extra credit?”

“Sure.”

“What exactly are we taking about, here?”

“I only had three men show up to audition for Little Shop of Horrors,” she explains. “Three. The only one worth listening to was Dustin.”

Ms. Shapiro pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose before tenting her fingers in front of her.

“I had no choice but to cast the other two, but there are four male roles. I’m short one.”

They stare at each other. Eddie’s stomach drops.

“No. No. Nope, not me,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You’ve got the wrong guy. There’s no way in hell I’m doing a musical. I don’t sing.”

“You’re in a band, right?”

“I play guitar!”

“Oh. Well, it’s really just talk-singing, anyway.”

“I don’t act!”

“Give me a break,” Ms. Shapiro laughs. “I hear you in here, Eddie.”

“This is dif—“

“This,” Ms. Shapiro cuts in, sweeping her hand over the table, “is acting. And you’re good at it.”

Eddie rakes an anxious hand through his hair.

“Ms. Shapiro, I will do anything,” Eddie pleads, “anything else. You don’t…you don’t want me in your show. Trust me. I’ll f—muck it up.”

“I doubt that.”

Groaning, Eddie runs a hand over his face.

“Please. Don’t make me do this.”

“I’m not,” Ms. Shapiro clarifies. “I’m simply giving you an option. It’s this—a guaranteed A in my class—or a failing grade.”

“Are you even allowed to do this? Is this illegal? It feels a little illegal.”

“Like you said, it’s just like extra credit. A lot of extra credit. I’m perfectly within my right to give my students opportunities to improve their grades.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. The last thing he wants is to rot in this pit-stained cesspool for another year because of his grade in an elective.

A fucking musical, though. A singing, dancing, jazz hands-ing onstage spectacle. What better way to draw the unwanted attention of a bunch of brain dead meatheads than to step into a literal spotlight and make an idiot out of himself?

“Ms. Shapiro—“

“Hang on a second,” she says, cutting Eddie off as she goes to stand.

Eddie watches as she rummages around on her desk for something before walking back over to the table. She holds out another sheet of paper, thankfully not a second failed exam.

“What’s this?”

“I thought you might like to look at the cast list before you make your decision,” Ms. Shapiro answers, an unsettlingly pleased smile on her face.

Cocking a brow, Eddie takes it from her.

“I don’t know who else I’d know besides Henderson, but o—“

Eddie chokes on a breath as he stares down at the list, an all too familiar name typed out right beneath Dustin’s. His pulse pounds at his temples, the paper shaking a bit in his hands as he reads it over and over again.

Chrissy Cunningham.

Looking up at Ms. Shapiro, Eddie opens his mouth but no words come out, his tongue like a wet piece of cardboard. He swallows hard.

“I was surprised to see her at auditions,” Ms. Shapiro says as she takes the cast list back from Eddie. “I knew she’d be perfect for Audrey the second she walked in, though.”

Eddie’s blood rushes in his ears, his brain a useless pile of goo. He suddenly finds himself looking down at a thick libretto with the name Orin Scrivello scribbled across the top in black sharpie.

“Totally up to you,” Ms. Shapiro chirps, offering him the book.

After a beat, he takes it from her. It’s like being handed a hammer so that he can pound the final nail into his own coffin.

God, he’s so fucked.

“When’d did you say the first rehearsal is?”

#hellcheer #cyraclove writes #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #eddissy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy cunningham #little shop of horrors #I’ll never write this but it lives in my head

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