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yourlocalcryptidbee · 20 days

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⭐Lucifer Morningstar Headcanons

Headcannons about the lovely Lucifer Morningstar and the ways he acts with the even lovelier reader! Grab some snacks and a beverage, get comfy and enjoy <3

~1k words

GN-ish! Reader (mentions of hair long enough to braid that’s it) NOT proof read.

Dude hates crowds, like has a burning(get it? hellfire? burning…never mind) hatred for them, most of them anyways. Crowds, people in general, can’t seem to think for themselves when around him. It’s always ‘whatever you want, your majesty,’ ‘don’t let us stop you, your majesty’ ‘we’ll do whatever you ask, your Majesty’ It reminds him of Heaven and the councils, and the masses, and the sermons….the list goes on. It’s Groupthink on steroids. A complete echo chamber that a young Lucifer tried to break. That version of Lucifer stood up to the majority and lost everything because of it. Of course that man still can’t stand it, especially now that he’s on the other end of it. He wishes that sinners could at least try to have a personality around him, not just a bunch of spineless pushovers, ready to wait hand on foot in fear of being smote.

He likes to watch you, not in a creepy way! At least he hopes that it isn’t creepy to you. Simply put, Lucifer likes to see you there, see you take up space in his home. Although he isn’t apposed to helping cook breakfast or clean, he’d much rather just watch you do it. It’s a comfort thing for him, watching you physically move around and disturb his space reminds him that you’re real and not something his mind made up as a last ditch effort to fix his depression. In the beginning when you would sleep over at his house, Lucifer wouldn’t make his bed after you left. He’d just leave all the bunched up blankets and sheets exactly how you left them. It made him feel less lonely when he had to sleep by himself the next night.

Frivolous. Like, truly does not care how much he spends on shit. Couldn’t even try to think about caring. It doesn’t matter to him. Partly due to his pride, he’s the big dick in charge of hell! of course he has the money for that 24k gold and diamond encrusted something or other. Especially if he’s buying something for you or Charlie. Your wish is his command after all.

His house is sssssoooo dusty. After his divorce he had quarantined himself to his bedroom, bathroom and office. He never went anywhere else in his house, he would portal himself between the rooms when necessary so he didn’t even use the hallways! Which one could imagine would leave a substantial amount of dust EVERYWHERE. He had invited you to his home for the first time on a whim, feeling proud of himself for finally asking and had coincidently walked through his front door, only to cough from inhaling so much dust. That pride turned to horror as he realized he only had an hour to clean his house before you showed up. That man had never moved faster in his life. He was so focused, unfortunately sometimes on the wrong things, I mean why was he cleaning the support beams that were 15 feet high and attached to the ceiling and not, I don’t know, the kitchen!?

Lucifer cannot throw things away. Just look how long he wore his wedding band after he and Lilith split. In fact, he still has kept the ring after getting together with you, though he’s not wearing it, Lucifer just couldn’t bring himself to get rid of something like that. It still lives in a nice box in the very back of his nightstand. This is even worse when it comes to gifts from either you or Charlie. It could be the stupidest thing and he’ll cherish it and hold onto it for eternity. All those rocks, broken crayons, leaves, and bottle caps that baby Charlie gave to him? All tucked away safely to this day, hell, sometimes he’ll look through it all as a little pick me up. Maybe this has to do with being physically thrown out of his home in heaven or maybe he just is sentimental, even Lucifer doesn’t know.

Loves having his wings be taken care of. It was hard after he fell from heaven, those beautiful white wings now a blood red? Not something he liked to look at. It reminds of what he failed to do and of the pain he created for all of humanity. Having you take care of that is so special to him. You take the time to preen his wings and make sure they’re perfect. One of the things that are constantly reminding him of his failure as an angel is just so easily accepted and loved by you. Something so small to you, means the world to him. You can look at something that symbolizes failure and still love it unconditionally because it’s Lucifer’s? Yeah, he loves it that you take care of him.

Will 1000% make dad jokes when he doesnt know what to say. It’s honestly adorable. This happened on multiple occasions when your relationship was still new. A conversation would finish and there’d be a lull or a pregnant pause, and then he’d just “what-what do you call a can opener that’s broken?”

“a can’t opener. ”

Cue his quiet, stifled yet awkward laughter at his own joke and the distant groan from Charlie who has probably heard that a million times already.

Has a gift for braiding hair. Honestly, he’s pretty good at styling hair in general but allow him to braid your hair and his talent just shines through. His own hair has some length to it so he has in fact braided his own hair but come on, his (ex)wife and baby girl have some of the longest blonde hair in the underworld, of course, he knows what he’s doing. Doesn’t matter what style or where the braid originated, he can do it. The cherry on top is that when he’s combing out your hair beforehand, there isn’t a single tug. Could this be magic? Yes. Could this also be a skill carefully cultivated over the literal millennia he’s been alive? Also yes.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #headcanon #x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #i tried #Smote is in fact the past tense of smite #learn something new every day #lucifer morningstar

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wheels-of-despair · 11 months

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Smoke Break Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Hellfire is holed up in your basement on prom night, but you can't sleep. Might as well drag Eddie outside for a smoke break. Contains: Excessive snoring, giggle fits, smoking, possible monster encounter, Evil Woman taking charge and demanding that I slap a MDNI warning on this baby. (Don't test me, ageless blogs, I'll block you.) Words: 1k

Somebody is snoring way too loud.

You lie awake in your dark basement, trying to remember who's where so you know whose pancakes are getting dropped on the floor in the morning.

Hellfire usually spent prom night in Grant's basement, but now that there was a girl in their midst, his mom decided she didn't want to set a bunch of teenagers loose in an unsupervised environment. So the anti-prom celebration was being held in yours this year. Very kinky stuff: pizza, an unreasonable amount of snack food, Carrie, Prom Night, whatever else was on the cheap horror shelf at Family Video, and a room full of nerdy virgins… plus you and Eddie.

The last movie had ended an hour ago, and everyone who'd made it through decided to crash. You'd snuggled up next to Eddie and slept for what you estimated to be half an hour before someone's loud-ass snores jolted you awake.

And by extension, jolted Eddie awake.

You both laid there silently for a few minutes, nuzzling into each other and hoping to get back to sleep. Every time you got close, another snore would rip through the room. It was comically loud; the kind of snore that should probably be accompanied by a cartoon saw and a log. Eddie must've realized this too, because soon, every snore would send you both shaking in a fit of silent giggles. Giving up on sleep entirely, you decide to pass the time a different way.

"You wanna go out and smoke?" you whisper.

"Yeah," Eddie answers, and you begin untangling yourselves and rising off the floor. You tiptoe through the pile of sleeping nerds until you reach the basement door, then slip out.

It's unusually warm outside, but half the appeal of a late-night smoke break is the cuddling. You sit next to him on the concrete garden wall. He slips his arm around your back once he lights up, and you rest your head on his shoulder as you pass the cigarette back and forth in the light of the full moon.

About halfway through, you start craving something else.

You begin drawing lazy circles on his pajama-covered thigh, slowly working upward.

"Don't do that," he warns, blowing his smoke away from you.

"Don't do what?" you ask innocently, nuzzling your nose into his neck.

"They'll hear us."

"Not if we're quiet." You plant a sweet kiss on his jawline and squeeze the inside of his thigh.

He sighs and stubs out his cigarette in the dirt. You've won. He turns his head for a smoky kiss, which you happily give him.

Once you've got him breathing heavier and kissing you with urgency, you pull away, slithering to the ground between his legs.

But diving right in would be too easy on him.

You pull up his faded Dio shirt and begin trailing soft, sweet kisses down his bare stomach. He begins to moan softly, hands gripping the concrete.

You palm him through his pajama pants, to see if he's ready, and his breath catches. Oh yeah. He's ready. You slip a finger beneath the waistband, and he forgets that he's supposed to be being quiet.

"Oh shit, oh fuck," his stream of consciousness flows between pants.

"Eddie," you hiss, pulling back and looking up at him.

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Do you want this?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Then shut the fuck up."

"Yes ma'am."

In silence, you start over, hiking his shirt back up and working your way back down his stomach with kisses. His breathing is rough, but he is capable of shutting up. You'll have to keep that in mind.

When your trail of kisses reaches the elastic waistband of his pajama pants again, you take the edge between your teeth, pull back, and let it snap on him. He jumps, then fumbles to help you out.

He moans when your mouth closes around him.

You release him and look up with a glare.

"Please," he whines.

You lift a hand to cover his mouth and get back to work, listening to Eddie's muffled moans. When he starts writhing too much, you remove your hand from his mouth and sink your nails into his hips to hold him still.

"I'm gonna… I'm gonna…"

And then, he does.

Wiping your mouth and rejoining him on the garden wall, you sit facing him this time. You wrap a leg around his backside, and he slumps into you. You chuckle and hold him, half-flopped over with his head on your shoulder.

"You okay?" you whisper.

He nods sleepily and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Think they heard us?"

"They probably heard YOUR loud ass," you tease, rubbing up and down his back.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"No, you're not," you chuckle, and he buries his face in your neck, knowing you're right.

You sit there quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying the alone time and the sound of crickets.

Then you hear something crunching through the woods in your direction. You both sit bolt upright, scanning the dark tree line in front of you with wide eyes.

"Uh… wannagobackin?" you ask quickly.

"Yup." Eddie jumps up and pulls you toward the basement door. Once inside, you lock both the knob and the deadbolt, then try to find your way back to your little nest without stepping on anyone.

Miraculously, you get there without waking anyone up… or so you thought. Still a little rattled from whatever kind of monster was on its way to eat you a few minutes ago, you cling to Eddie's side and stare into the dark, refusing to close your eyes.

"You okay?" he whispers. You respond by squeezing him tighter. He puts a finger under your chin and draws your face to meet his for a comforting kiss. "How 'bout now?"

"Not quite. Try again." You can feel him smile against you as he obliges.

"How 'bout now?"

"How 'bout you two are fucking gross," Grant grumbles from the spot you'd tried to isolate in the dark some time before.

"What was that, Grant?" Gareth chimes in. "I can't hear you, I had to shove my drumsticks in my ears."

"Come on guys, they're young and in looove," Jeff says in a singsong voice.

"Well, since we don't have to be quiet anymore..." Eddie lays a loud, wet kiss on your lips, and you laugh as everyone else pretends to gag.

Aside from the near-death experience, not a bad way to spend prom night in Hawkins.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #is it a demodog or a deer? who knoooows

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athena-writes-i-guess · 1 year

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Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Prompt: “I think I love you, you idiot.”

Warning: language, very very very light hurt/comfort but mostly fluff, friends to lovers(really lovers to official lovers), pet names

A/N: a bit longer then I normally write for these, but I got a little carried away haha. Hope you enjoy! Was this based on something I said in my D&D game on Friday? Yes. I was very proud of it.

“Lady Y/N,” Eddie looks at you, his eyebrow was quirked up as he sent you a cocky smile, “it’s your turn.” He says, gesturing at the game map on the table in front of him as he sat in his throne.

It was Friday night. Hellfire night. The best night of the week. The night where you got to play pretend with your favorite people. Your favorite of them all being Eddie Munson.

You looked him up and down, a small confident smile rested on your face, “How many hit points does this guy have?”

“Let’s just say he looks pretty fucked up.” Eddie chuckled as he leaned back in the chair, his arms rested on the armrests as he laced his fingers in front of him. He locked eyes with you, his large, owlish, ones sparkled in amusement.

“I’m going to walk up to him. I place my hand on his shoulder as I just ever so lightly graze the tip of my sword along his cheek and I say, ‘Now do you want to feel the sting of my blade? Or would you like to actually walk out of here alive?’” The group around you made various “oooohs!”, but your eyes were locked with Eddie’s. He stared you down, face unchanging as he sized you up.

“Roll an intimidation check.” He said simply.

You rolled your D20 and watched it bounce along the game map, “15 plus 9, 24!” You shouted.

Eddie’s face broke out in a large smile and he clapped his hands together loudly as he laughed. “He flees! As he should, I wouldn’t want to cross Lady Y/N, right boys?” He asked the room as the rest of the party shouted their excitement at the victory. “That’s it for tonight kids, see you next time.” This was met by a few groans, but eventually the room dissolved into loud chatter as everyone got ready to go.

“Hey, could you stay after?” Eddie asked once you finished packing up. You felt your heart hammer in your chest as you nodded your head.

You and Eddie had an interesting relationship you could say. Not quite together, but definitely not just friends. You’d hang out together, seemingly as friends, and end up making out on his couch or in the back of his van.

You wanted more, so much more with him. But you didn’t want to lose what you had now by asking for a commitment. Eddie was sweet, more than he let on to anyone but you, so you knew he would at least let you down nicely. But you weren’t sure if you could face him after the rejection.

Your relationship was very physical when you were alone, but it was also incredibly emotional at times. With the two of you running to each other in your hardest of times. Eddie told you things he had never told anyone, and let himself be more vulnerable with you than he had been with another person ever. What you had was special, and you didn’t want it to end. You just didn’t want to hide it anymore.

The room cleared out and as you said your last goodbye, you looked around and found yourself alone with Eddie. The room felt charged, with what you weren’t sure, but there was something new and intense sparkling behind the look the metalhead sent you. He didn’t break eye contact as he sauntered over to where you were standing at the other end of the table.

Eddie wasn’t great with personal space, he usually managed to get into peoples bubbles somehow. But when you were alone, it’s like personal space didn’t even exist. His hands were always on you, as if they were magnetized to your skin. There was always practically no space between you two, as he always kept you flush with him. And if he had his way, his mouth would be kissing any part of you he could reach at all times. It’s like he was obsessed and couldn’t get enough of you, but only in private.

His hands found their way around your waist as he pressed you up against the table. He gave you a heated look before his lips came crashing on yours. You felt him smirk against you as you let out an involuntary moan into the kiss. Proud to be the cause of such a response from you.

“Christ sweetheart, that last line you said. It was so hot.” He said in between hurried, feverish kisses. “My girl, such a badass.”

“My girl”

Not a new phrase, but one you couldn’t stop thinking about once you heard it. Why would he call you that just to keep you hidden?

“Eddie.” You gasped out once he started kissing along your jaw. He let out an appreciative hum against your skin as you said his name. “Eddie, wait.” You managed, pulling yourself from his affectionate assault. He pulled back, lips kiss swollen and pink, eyes half lidded.

“What is it, pretty girl?” He cooed, a fond look on his face.

“What is this Eddie?” You blurted out, the metalhead cocked his head to the side in confusion. “What is this? What are we? We do this every couple days, but only in secret. You call me your girl, but only alone.” You stammered out quickly, watching Eddie closely as you did. “Are-are you ashamed of me?” You asked finally, you couldn’t keep the hurt and insecurity out of your voice.

Eddie looked surprised for a moment but quickly shook his head once he heard how upset you sounded, “Sweetheart, I’m not ashamed of you at all, or what we have.” He started.

“Then why aren’t we public? Why am I hidden away?” You interrupted.

Eddie sighed and brought his forehead to rest against your own, he looked at you through his lashes, “Cause I didn’t want to make your life harder here. You already have a hard enough time being the freak of Hawkin High's friend, imagine how much worse it’d be for you as my girlfriend.” He briefly closed his eyes and took a deep breath as if he was working up to something, “I was finally gonna ask you to be mine at graduation, then we wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. I’m crazy about you Y/N, you have to know that.”

It was your turn to look surprised but you recovered quickly at the uncertain look on his face, “I don’t give a shit about what these assholes say Eddie. I’m fucking crazy about you too, and I don’t want to wait.” You said firmly, a confident smile pulling at your lips. “I think I love you, you idiot.”

Eddie looked utterly shell shocked. You love him? He hadn’t heard someone say that to him in years, only his mom and Wayne had ever said it. The last time he heard it from his mom was just before she died, and Wayne at her funeral. He had no idea how much he had missed hearing it, how much he needed it. And now, the person he knew he loved was here saying it to him. He wanted to cry, but wouldn’t, not now. Not when he could be kissing you instead.

“I love you. So much.” He whispered seriously. He pressed his lips to yours again, not hungry and feverish like before, this was slow and careful, like you could break under him. He wanted you to feel that he meant every word.

You melted into each other, fully drowning in the possibilities of this new relationship that neither of you were aware of the sounds of running footsteps coming up the quiet hallway outside. “Hey, have you seen my binder I think I-” Dustin's voice rang out as the door slammed open.

You pulled away from Eddie with a little squeak of surprise and found the 3 freshman boys standing in the doorway. You and Eddie stared at the boys, who in turn stared back at the two of you, arms still wrapped around each other.

“Oh my fucking god! You have to be shitting me, I knew it! Mike, you owe me 10 bucks!” Dustin yelled, pointing at the two of you with a huge smile on his face.

“I guess there’s no keeping this a secret now even if we wanted, huh sweetheart?” Eddie whispered with a chuckle as he pulled you from the table, holding your hand firmly as he grabbed both of your stuff.

“Oh not a chance.” You laughed, following him as the younger boys bombarded you with questions.

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mrslovesmayahawke @harrys-tittie

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fluffansmut · 8 months

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I bring you Hellfire fairy

Eddie x crybaby!fairy!reader is back again

Part one, part two, part three, part four

“You ready to head out baby?” Eddie asked as he finished packing his bag.

You flashed him a nervous smile and nodded.

“Now remember, you’re in charge” Eddie reminded, “and I’ll be there with you the entire time.”

That promise made the anxiety in the pit of your stomach melt a bit.

Eddie had decided to bring you along to hellfire this week, and there was a pleather of reasons to why…

1. You usually threw tantrums at the mention of him leaving, even though you always knew he’d come right back.

2. Eddie missed you just as much.

3. Dustin had practically begged him for weeks.

So it was settled, Eddie headed off to hellfire with you on his shoulder, hidden in his hair.

Eddie set up the table and the DM screen, then he instructed you to hide behind it.

It was supposed to be a prank on the rest of the hellfire members, which was something that got your attention. Pulling pranks was your forte and this one was going to be huge.

You were safely out of view when the rest of them arrived.

Eddie smirked down at you when he took his place on the throne.

Eddie cleared his throat to catch everyones attention, but unfortunately it did nothing to get the chatter to quiet down.

He tried to call out for them a few times, but nothing was breaking through their loud voices.

So Eddie resorted to what he usually did with the group. He slammed his fist onto the table.

The impact not only scared you but it made you almost lose your balance.

Eddie was quick to stabilise you with his hand, and when you were sat on the table he gave you forgiving headpats with his pointer finger.

“Now fellas, lady applejack, are we ready to get this adventure started or are we just chitchatting today?”

It really wasn’t a question.

More of a unique way to tell them all to shut the fuck up. Which they all did not long after.

Eddie smirked knowingly and began the adventure of the week.

You listened intensely, not only because his storytelling was mesmerising but also because you were waiting for your que.

“In the mist forest before you, you seem a shimmering, floating ball of light” Eddie said and you began to flutter your wings, getting ready for your reveal. “When it approaches you closer you see what it really is.”

You made your way over the edge of the DM screen, facing the players.

“A fairy”

There was a collective gasp coming from the group around the table.

You could see Dustin sporting a huge grin on his face, which made you slightly more confident.

You felt the heat in your cheeks as you saw all the eyes on you.

One of the boys whispered a “what the fuck?” at the closer look at you, but he was quickly corrected by Eddie.

“If you want to remain alive by the end of this adventure I suggest you shut it Wheeler”

You put out your tongue in his general direction to help Eddie get his point across.

“This glorious little one will help you on your journey today my friends” Eddie continued. “Don’t be fooled by the size, she’s feisty.”

A mischievous grin spread on your face as you heard Eddie’s words.

“This is cool” you heard one of them mumble under their breath as Eddie got ready to continue.

Dustin flashed you a knowing smile, nonverbal telling you “I told you, you’d be a hit”.

The game continued and you found yourself warming up to the members of hellfire. You floated around the table (to not risk being hit by any thrown dice.) and was welcomed by everyone so you came up to.

Then came the best part of it all.

Whenever they won a battle and a figurine was supposed to be removed from the table you got to do the honours, which more or less ended in you trying to figure out different ways to drop kick them of the table.

When you succeed with your job you got cheers and applauds from everyone round the table, which hade you shining with pride, bathing in the attention.

You thought about the first time you had seen a figurine on Eddie’s desk in the trailer, it had scared you senselessly. It was almost as big as you and looked monster like so of course you got scared. Eddie had explained that they weren’t real and had taught you how to “fight” them, much like you had tonight. But you had to admit, it was even more fun with an audience.

When the game ended you were understandably tired and got to hitch a ride home in the front pocket of Eddie’s dio vest.

The last thing you heard before you fell asleep was Eddie mumbling,

“You did good today baby, so very good”

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x fairy!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #fairy!reader #crybaby!reader

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steddieasitgoes · 7 months

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written for @eddiemonth Day 6 Prompt: Crush cw: period typical homophobia read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Eddie Month series

The Hawkins High Library is somehow both quiet and bustling. There’s not a free table in sight; students hunched together in groups of twos and threes. Loners are forced to share with others. All of them with their noses deep into study guides, highlighters perched between tense lips. Some flip through flashcards, mumbling answers as the librarian watches over with a stern look, ready to shush anyone who dares make a sound.

The sun beats down on the small room, rays of warmth promising free days to come. Summer break is on the horizon. All that stands between them and three months of endless freedom is finals.

Finals, which, in Eddie’s case, don’t just promise a summer of freedom. But a life free from high school altogether. Assuming he manages to finally pass Mrs. O’Donnell’s chemistry final.

The odds of this happening, though, are not very great. Especially since he’s already failed her chemistry class once before. (Honestly, Hawkins High should just hire a new chemistry teacher and stop putting everyone through her miserable class.)

But it’s okay because Eddie’s actually been trying this semester.

As in, he finally suffered through the mortifying ordeal of asking for help and landed himself the best tutor that Hawkins High has to offer: Nancy Wheeler.

With her help, he’s managed to bring his F up to a low D- which isn’t great, but it's the closest he’s ever been to passing. Now, all he has to do is get a C on the final and submit some lame extra credit essay, and he should be able to turn that D- into a D+ and pass the class.

At least, that’s the plan.

Which is why he’s currently tucked away at a library table opposite Nancy and the King of Hawkins high himself, Steve Harrington, instead of bumming around in Jeff’s garage planning their summer Hellfire campaign.

“Okay,” Nancy says, pulling his attention away from the giant library window. She’s holding an index card in her hands. Her usual pristine manicure chipped. Nails bit as short as possible. Eddie supposes the stress of finals even gets to the nerds. “A proton has what kind of charge?”

“Positive.”

She nods, not one for verbal praise, and flips to the next card. “What happens in an endergonic reaction?”

Shit.

He should know this one.

Eddie taps his pencil against the table. Tilts his head back until his eyes are focused on the ugly popcorn ceiling of the library as if it holds the answers. It doesn’t, unfortunately. Frustrated, he buries his head in his hands for a moment before peering up at Nancy with his big brown eyes and a solemn look on his face.

Steve scoffs beside Nancy, looking up from his own study guide to throw an arm possessively around her.

Eddie’s about to call him out on his weird macho man behavior when his stomach starts to growl. Jesus H. Christ. He knew he shouldn’t have skipped lunch today.

Nancy sighs, shaking Steve’s arm off of her as she stands. “I’m going to go grab us some snacks from the vending machine.”

“You’re the best, Wheeler!” Eddie smiles, watching as Nancy walks away.

When he turns back to the table, ready to flip the flashcard over to learn what an endergonic reaction is, Steve is glaring at him. His arms are crossed tightly across his chest as he leans back in the chair. Eddie can tell he’s trying to look casual and unbothered, but the tension in his jaw and the rage in his eyes say otherwise.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, my liege?”

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. “Do you think I’m stupid, Munson? I can see you flirting with my girlfriend right in front of me.”

Eddie stares at Steve dumbfounded, wide eyes blinking as Steve continues to glare. There’s a rumble in the pit of his stomach, one that stems from laughter instead of hunger, but Eddie bites the inside of his cheek to keep it at bay. Something tells him laughing at Steve isn’t going to end well for him. He might have a bad track record when it comes to fights, but the only punch Eddie has ever thrown was accidental at a haunted house. And he ended up bruising his own hand instead of the clown’s nose.

“I don’t have a crush on Nancy.”

“Sure you don’t,” Steve hums sarcastically, crossing his arms even tighter.

The stupid sleeves of his striped polo strain against the bulge of his biceps, and Eddie tries his best not to stare. Oh, if only you knew the truth, Harrington.

“Every guy here has a crush on Nancy. Especially since they know they can’t have her.”

This time, it’s Eddie who scoffs. Objectively, sure, Nancy’s cute and all. But, the audacity of Harrington to think every guy wants her just because he has her is more irritating than comical. He doesn’t think Nancy would be too thrilled about it either.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Harrington, but I don’t think about Nancy like that.”

“So, what are you a queer then?” Steve snaps.

Eddie feels his skin heat up like the blood is rushing to his cheeks and his ears, and then, as quickly as the temperature rises, it sinks, sending him into a numbing cold. Judging by Harrington’s wide eye gaze, Eddie assumes he looks like a guy who’s two seconds away from hurling or passing out on the floor. Both of which he’d welcome. Anything is better than having this conversation with Harrington.

“Wait,” Steve says as if Eddie has the strength to get up from his seat. “Shit, I’m sorry. I— I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m really sorry, man. I’m trying not to be this asshole, and then I go and say asshole shit like that. I just—“ Steve drags both hands down his face as he groans.

“You’re in love with her and don’t want another freak stealing her from you?” Eddie supplies, totally caught off guard by the sound of his own voice. Honestly, he’s kinda proud of himself for stringing together a coherent sentence, let alone a dig like that, after Steve’s insult-turned-apology.

Steve doesn’t say anything, just stares at Eddie with those stupid wide eyes, and his even stupider lips barely parted.

“What? It was kind of hard to ignore the little lover's quarrel you and Byers got into last winter. But trust me, Harrington. You have nothing to worry about. All I want from Wheeler is her help passing chem. As soon as I get that, I’ll be out of both of your hair.”

Eddie can tell Steve’s thinking of a way to respond to that, but he never gets the chance because Nancy reappears just then. She dumps a handful of “brain food” on the table — mostly trail mix concoctions and a lone Snickers bar — and passes each of the boys a bottle of water. It’s not exactly what Eddie was hoping for when she left for snacks, but he’s not about to complain.

“Okay, so, endergonic reactions.”

+ + +

Truthfully, Eddie should stop making plans since they never seem to go his way. What was supposed to be a chill, music-filled spring break has turned into quite the opposite.

Instead, he’s spent the last two days in hiding, with only a handful of people keeping him safe, including Harrington and Wheeler, of all people.

So much for staying out of their hair, he thinks manically, as he walks in tandem beside Steve in the actual hell-like version of Hawkins. They trail behind Robin and Nancy, Eddie rambling on and on about Steve, but he just can’t shut up. Maybe it’s the nerves, maybe it’s the memory of the three of them back in that library, maybe it’s just Eddie self-sabotaging because seeing Steve in his vest is doing things to him. Things he doesn't have time to deal with, especially not when Wheeler is right there.

Whatever it is, Eddie’s about to do the stupidest thing he’s ever done, aside from jumping into Lover's Lake in the first place.

Steve stops walking the minute Eddie starts talking about why he followed them here. They stop beside a tree, and Eddie angles his body so he’s in front of Steve. Probably closer than he should be, but Eddie’s not about to step backward. Not when there could be a creepy vine ready to trip him and give their positions away to the hoard of bats in the sky. No, thank you.

He presses on instead, talking about Nancy and her incredible reaction time to Steve being dragged deeper and deeper into the murky waters.

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you two, but if I were you, I would get her back,” Eddie says, eyes locked with Steve’s. “Because that was an unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

With a hand clasped over his heart, Eddie watches as Steve glances towards Nancy’s direction. There’s a moment where Eddie thinks Steve’s actually going to listen to him. Run after the girl of his dreams and professes his undying love to her in the middle of the hell dimension version of Hawkins. But then, he slowly turns his head back toward Eddie and shakes his head.

“I don’t...” Steve hesitates, eyes flickering to Eddie’s lips for the briefest of seconds before settling back on his eyes. He shakes his head. “I don’t have a crush on Nancy, man.”

Eddie cocks his head in surprise. Lets a cackle of a laugh escape his lips as he stares back at Steve in disbelief. “You don’t have to bullshit me, man. It’s pretty clear you still have a thing for her. I mean, every guy in Hawkins has a crush on Nancy, remember.”

Steve’s brows knit together, lips agape in that same stupid thinking face he gave Eddie all those years ago in the Hawkins High library. It’s aggravating how cute it is, even now when Steve’s covered in blood and grime and God knows what else.

“Yeah, well,” Steve says, eyes slowly tracking Eddie from head to toe and back up again. “Turns out you were right. Not every guy has a crush on her. Some of us have eyes for someone else.”

Just as Steve starts to lean in, the ground beneath them starts to rumble and shake, sending them both toppling to the floor. Whatever moment just happened between them disappears as the reality of their situation hits them again.

There’s no time for crushes when their lives are at stake.

#eddiemonth #eddie munson #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson fic #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stancy #stancy fic #stancy ficlet #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler fic #nancy wheeler ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson & nancy wheeler #dani writes

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tyblackthornsheadphones · 1 year

Text

steddie x afab!reader with a newborn headcanons

summary: steve and eddie’s baby girl is born and they won’t let her out of their sight

warnings: mentions of pregnancy and labor/birth, their daughter is named sophia (sophie) because that’s what me and my gf want to name our future daughter if we have one so i’m sorry if that’s your name, mentions of smut

part one | part three

wanna support me? buy me a ko-fi

you live in hawkins in the 80s, so poly relationships are pretty uncommon and frowned upon. to make things easier usually only one of them goes to your appointments with you

before you found out the baby’s gender, everyone started making bets (it started by steve saying he knew it was a girl because of something he read in a parenting book about the way you were carrying)

(yes, steve buys parenting books. although a lot of the time he disagrees with what the books say to do so,, what’s the point of buying them?)

it was eddie’s turn to go to your appointment with you and he got so excited when he found out you were having a girl !!!

“i’m gonna be a girl dad!”

he’s so happy about it that you let him tell steve, and that conversation is actually the cutest thing ever, seeing them both smiling so widely and eddie bouncing up and down as he shares the news :((

surprisingly, labor was fairly easy for you and luckily there were no complications

(cue your two overprotective boyfriends panicking, while you have to be the calm one even though you’re the one in labor)

ten hours later and your little girl was born <33

it was obvious that she was eddie’s biologically because she was born with a full head of dark curls and his features mixed with yours, but steve didn’t care

she was still just as much his daughter as yours and eddie’s

everyone comes to the hospital to meet baby sophia munson <333

only dustin actually gets to hold her since mike and lucas and robin are all freaked out at the idea of holding a baby

steve already has pretty bad insomnia, so he’s always awake when sophie wakes up crying

she loves eddie playing guitar and singing for her, and you joke that she remembers it from during your pregnancy

eddie brings home this baby onesie

that starts his obsession with finding metal clothes for her. he gets her a leather jacket to match with him, cute little clothes with skull patterns, and even makes her a mini hellfire shirt

waking up in the morning surprised that you woke up naturally and not from sophie crying, and walking into her room to see steve talking to her and she’s giggling :(((

if you get postpartum body dysmorphia, they will not stop complementing you. “obviously your body looks different, you gave birth to a living, breathing human” and “you’re so strong and beautiful and amazing” and “we’re so lucky to have you, love” and “you’re so gorgeous”

calling sophie their princess and you their queen/king

she adores when eddie tells her stories. even if she doesn’t understand what he’s saying, he’s dramatic and makes funny voices and big gestures that make her smile so wide

the “mom steve” jokes triple now that he actually has a kid

steve starts to learn now to do different types of braids and long hair hairdos. he practices on you (if you have long enough hair) and eddie

“i have to be ready for when she’s older! who else will do it? clearly i’m the only one who should be in charge of teaching her proper hair care”

for the first two months after giving birth you refrain from having sex at doctor’s recommendation (you still enjoy watching them tho)

having your first date night since giving birth and leaving sophie with max (who wont admit that she likes the responsibility) and having the house to yourselves

they eat you out until your thighs shake from overstimulation, then take turns fucking you

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chazzadotcom · 2 years

Note

Eddie x male reader (smut) whos pretty short compared to him so like…size kink and while fucking him ur able to see the belly bulge and eddie goes crazy over it 👉👈

a/n this is my first time writing proper smut so sorry if it’s horrible!! i also imagine eddies a pretty kinky guy so this was interesting to write. you didn’t say who tops and who bottoms so i did eddie as top, but i’m happy to write it as reader top if you want :) also the reader is such a pillow princess omg

not proofread

cw: smut, size kink, edging, belly bulge, choking, touch of feminisation

EDDIE MUNSON X MALE READER

HOWS THAT FEEL

You knew tonight would be good, you’d just finished hellfire where you’d been sat on Eddies lap “fidgeting” and you knew exactly what it would cause. Eddie whispered in your eye about halfway through the night “you’re in trouble when we get back darling.” It sent a shiver down your spine, you were in for a long night.

As soon as everyone else had left Eddie picked you up and threw you onto his throne, “here you go princess right where you belong.” His large hands pressed against your shoulders pushing you up against the throne one hand basically wrapped round half of your chest and it made butterflies erupt. He leaned over you and whispered in your ear “you’re only allowed to cum when i say, you got that darling” you shivered and looked up into his eyes “yes Eddie” he stroked your head, “good baby good” his hand slid down and took off your shirt. the cold air made you shiver. He leaned in and started sucking on your left nipple, you whined lolling your head so it smacked against the throne and your eyes rolled back with it. Eddie smiled against your chest as he moved further down and sucked hickies along your chest until he reached your trousers.

He looked up at you and moved back up, you whined high in your throat willing him to do anything, he smirked as he started sucking on your neck, you felt your pants tighten and it felt like the pressure was too much and they were going to burst at the seams. Eddie seemed to sense this he went back down and undid your pants and pulled them off so you were naked he then moved away and quickly took off his clothes but to you it felt like an eternity you slowly started to pump your cock you just needed to release some of the pressure, Eddie didn’t quite see that though and you suddenly felt your hands prised away and above your head, tied to the throne by his hellfire t-shirt you bucked your hips trying to feel something, you couldn’t take it.

He gripped your throat, not cutting off air but just enough to make you know who was in charge “you just going to sit here and take it baby, whatever I give you?” you nodded, not even able to answer, only focusing on your cock which needed release.

Eddie then squeezed your cheeks opening your mouth as he fed you his cock, you started to bounce on the throne ready for it, he used the hand that was squeezing your cheeks to place one on his shoulder, wordlessly telling you to calm down, but you couldn’t you needed something, and you needed to show Eddie you could be good.

You went all the way down on him straight away trying to prove yourself, you felt it hit the back of your throat but you didn’t care, you were determined. Eddie seemed to not notice though as he moaned and gripped onto your hair and push you further down, you hummed in pleasure which had his hips stuttering as he came down your throat with a groan.

He immediately untied you then circled a finger round your hole and slowly pushed it inside, without any lube the burn was there but you knew you could do it, the pleasure at the end would be worth it, you moaned and tried to start bouncing on his finger but Eddie tutted “come on baby you’re basically sitting on my finger” you stopped and Eddie angled your body slightly differently so you were still comfortable but weren’t crushing his finger. He lubed the second and third finger and slowly entered the second one and you moaned at the stretch. He started pumping them in and out and then he found your prostrate and you screamed. Once he’d found it he kept rubbing it and entered a third finger making you thrash around as you came, the cum smearing between you two.

Once you were stretched enough he pulled his fingers out, and you whined at the loss of contact, Eddie moved you so that you were kneeling on the floor and your hands were pressed onto the throne. He came up behind you and draped his front over you back as he lined up his cock and started to press it in, you had taken Eddie so many times, but every time it felt like the first he was so big and it felt like he was going all the way through your body. It was pressing into everywhere so perfectly. He slowly started pumping in and out of you and your head kept smacking against the seat of the throne because you couldn’t keep it up anymore he was fucking into you so good.

Eddie gripped your hair and lifted your head so that it was on his chest “taking it so well baby, does it feel good?” You tried to speak but nothing came out.

Eddie moved you once again so that you were now on your back on the throne, and it was then he could see the bulge that formed in your belly every time he pumped in and out he looked at it and groaned wishing he could take a mental image of it he pressed down slightly on it and you cried out in pleasure wanting to come so badly but Eddie hadn’t said yes. Eddie could feel his balls tighten in response to you clenching around him and knew he couldn’t last much longer, “you wanna cum baby, you’ve just sat here and taken it not done any work and now you want to come?” you whined and screamed hoping Eddie knows what you mean. “Well i don’t think so” you closed your eyes not being able to take it for much longer, but trying your hardest to please Eddie.

His hips started thrusting at an irregular pace as he came inside you whilst taking one last looking your belly bulge, he then slowly pulled out looking at the cum dripping form your used hole. He leaned closer and slowly started licking around it cleaning all the excess cum that was leaking out, he then slowly thrusted his young inside feeling your walls as he held your legs apart. Your whole body was shaking now just waiting for him to say something. “cmon baby you can come now, been so good for me.” You moaned one last time and came all over yourself once again and your whole body just relaxed and you went like jelly. He used the now discarded hellfire t-shirt to wipe up your stomach as he kissed you all over.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #stranger things x male #stranger things #smut #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x male reader smut #eddie munson x male #gay smut #gay

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averageanonymous · 4 months

Text

Summary: Crowley realizes that the only way to save Aziraphale might be to follow his lead.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Crowley sits at the edge of the sea. Chalk-white cliffs stretch to either side of him. Salt-heavy wind tugs at his hair, his clothes, and he closes his eyes and breathes it deep into his lungs.

You could come back. To heaven.

His eyes snap open, yellow irises blown wide, erasing the humanity from his gaze. He bares his teeth, jaw clenching so hard it aches as the memories assault him, the same conversation on endless repeat behind his eyes. He grabs the first thing his hand touches, a large black stone, and hurls it. He watches it soar out over the ocean before it falls with barely a splash in the crashing waves.

"Damn it," he hisses, dropping his head into his hands, gripping fistfuls of his auburn hair until his scalp begins to protest. Seven days since Aziraphale left. It might as well have been months, years, for how the time seems to have stretched before him, well and truly alone for the first time in six millennia. His entire being aches vaguely, as though the absence of the angel tore something from him, ripped a hole somewhere within. It's the kind of wound that he knows won't heal. Not with time, or distance. Not with any distraction or attempt to forget.

He finally drops his hands back into his lap and sighs, a bone-deep, weary sigh that feels like it's dragging his very soul to the surface. He counters it with another deep inhale of the ocean-soaked air. When his eyes open again, the serpent has receded. He lifts his gaze to the sky, a muted blue studded with gray clouds that threaten rain.

"What were you thinking, angel," Crowley asks the sky in a hoarse voice, gravelly with disuse. He thinks of Aziraphale, in heaven, surrounded by the same feathered dicks that would have seen him exterminated in Hellfire, working with the damn Metatron, and his heart threatens to eject itself straight from his chest. "What the hell were you thinking?"

His every single instinct screams to Save Him. March straight into Heaven's hallowed halls and find the angel, throw him over his shoulder and take the elevator directly back to Earth, SAYONARA SUCKERS.

But he can't. His angel doesn't want to be saved. Not this time.

If I'm in charge... I can make a difference.

"Do you really think so," Crowley speculates idly to no one, "You think one angel, even an Archangel, even The Supreme Archangel, can stand in the way of the machine? Derail The Great Plan?" He shakes his head. Aziraphale is many things, intelligent to a fault, determined to the end. And the truth of it is that he's actually not an idiot. But he can't possibly believe... not really...

But he does, doesn't he. Because Aziraphale also has faith. And hope. And he does believe, believes with his whole soul, that there is goodness at the heart of Heaven, if he can just chisel through the thousands of years of crystallized corruption to get to it. To make a better world. A world where Heaven isn't standing over it - over them - with a flaming sword, ready to end everything.

A world where, maybe, they could be together.

Together. That's what he had said.

We can be together.

I need you.

Crowley grasps those words in his mind, clings to them like a lifeline, and holds them tight. Those words feel pure. They feel like truth. Aziraphale had to have known he would never return to Heaven. But he asked anyway. And he left despite Crowley's refusal to join him. Why?

Because, Crowley reminds himself, Aziraphale is an angel of principle. An angel who fights for what he believes in. Aziraphale is up there, fighting, right now. Crowley's hands tighten into fists. He feels his body shaking with the effort of trying to remain calm. It's not working.

Aziraphale is fighting, even though that meant he had to leave everything behind... Even though it meant leaving Crowley behind... He did it because it was the right thing to do.

Crowley gets to his feet abruptly. Aziraphale is fighting, and what is he doing? Maybe he can't be an angel himself, and maybe he can't steal his angel back from Heaven. But he doesn't have to sit around and wait for The End Of The World to happen. There is something he can do. If Aziraphale is determined to try to take down Upstairs from the inside, why can't he do the same from Downstairs? After all, Hell is absent its Grand Duke, and he always knew he would look damn good in a crown.

Crowley lets the Serpent take hold of him once again, golden eyes glowing, teeth sharpening into venom-soaked fangs. Snake skin accents his arms, creeps up the back of his neck, and his fingers are tipped with black claws. Finally, he allows his ink-black wings to unfurl. If he's going to be a Demon Prince of Hell, he had better look the part.

The wind gusts around him, and suddenly there is no one on the cliff overlooking the sea, and no sign anyone ever was, save a circle of scorched earth to mark the descension of a demon to Hell.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this foray into my imagination.

This started as "Crowley sits on a cliff" and this is where it went. Which was a totally different direction than I'd initially imagined. I guess what it comes down to is that, while I love some Angsty Crowley, I don't want him to mope forever. And I don't want him to be stuck thinking Aziraphale left because he didn't love him. He knows Az better than that! And, to be honest, I LOVE the idea of Crowley as Az's celestial opposite, Grand Duke of Hell, taking on the system from both sides. Dunno. Sounds fun to me.

#good omens #crowley #fanfic #gomens #duke of hell crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziracrow #aziraphale

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months

Note

in honor of the catboy rollo plush thar I have no doubt you bought can we have some catboy rollo headcanons? like if he was a beastman or maybe an alchemy accident made him a catboy temporarily

GUILTY AS CHARGED 🐱 If you’re interested in getting your own catboy Rollo plush, check out the kickstarter!

I have a bunch of embarrassing cute outfits including a maid dress to stuff that catboy Rollo plush into as soon as it arrives in my clutches 😈

(By the way!! I highly recommend checking out this artist; I love their (actual) cat!Rollo artworks…)

Like Fire, Hellfire.

Rollo is the definition of a grumpy cat. Don't let his fluffy white ears and tail fool you, he can and will hiss at you if you get too close. It's even worse when Malleus is around; all of Rollo's fur stands on end and he looks like he's ready to pounce and claw at his mortal enemy's face.

His hat and clothing have special holes tailored in them to make way for his ears and tail to poke out. Rollo's very sensitive about any comments directed towards his animalistic traits (or, in Idia’s case, if you uwu talk to him)--and God help you if you’re brave enough to. Man's going to hold an intense grudge at any fool who dares.

He adds seafood to his diet, in part because he has a new cat-like affinity for fish (cue Azul with dollar signs in his eyes) and in part because too many grapes and/or too much coffee upsets his delicate stomach. (Cats don’t deal with those two foods too well.)

He looks after his fur to a ridiculous extent; every day, he meticulously scrubs it down and inspects it for any speckles of dirt or dust that could sully the pure white color. Rollo even carries around a cleaning kit in case his fur is tarnished when he's away from a bathroom.

… Rollo neurotically carries a lint brush around and cleans up any fur he sheds. (He goes through many, MANY lint brushes, especially when he’s stressed.)

His lightning fast cat-like reflexes will catch your wrist before you’re able to scratch his ears or tug on his tail. He’ll then proceed to chide you about obtaining consent before laying a finger on any animal you see casually wandering around.

It's usually so hard to tell what he's thinking or feeling, but looking at his ears and tail give you a better reference for what's going on in his head. As much as Rollo tries to keep himself in check, there are some things he can't repress 100% of the time, like how his ears twitch and stand at attention when something catches his interest.

His tail is even more expressive! It curls up when he's frustrated, stands straight up when he's pleased, and puffs up like a cloud when he's on edge, scared, or angry. (Rollo curses; why can't he just control himself?! He has to work twice as hard to consciously suppress his instincts.)

For someone dressed in an extravagant outfit, Rollo isn't as burdened by it as you would have expected. He still manages to retain all the grace and the speed of a cat in spite of all the fabric he could easily get caught up in. He makes great use of that speed to exit the scene whenever some foul mage he particularly detests makes an appearance.

If you thought Rollo was high-strung before, wait until you see Catboy!Rollo. Thanks to his beastman genes, all of his senses are heightened well beyond that of the average human. It makes him even more aware of his surroundings (and all of the problems he has with them) than ever. You’ll find him glaring at something well out of sight just because he overheard a mob student using God’s name in vain or something several hallways away 💀

The smell of flowers is now too overbearing for him, so he has to enjoy them from a distance. It’s one of the few times you can catch him smiling softly, just enjoying the flowers swaying in the breeze and the sun in his fur.

He has developed a morbid fascination with shiny objects, particularly his ring and any bells he spots. Something about the way they glisten in the light gives him hope and reignites his fire to pursue his own nefarious goals.

Catboy!Rollo has a habit of fiddling with nearby objects when he isn’t currently holding onto something. However, if he’s caught in a moment of concealed anger, you’ll find him snapping writing implements in half or clicking a pen on and off so hard that it shatters in his grasp.

When he tends to the Bell of Salvation or is out in the City of Flowers, the local birds are weirdly drawn to him. They roost in his hat (making a nest of it) and on his shoulders and arms. It annoys Rollo to no end (“Shouldn’t you infernal creatures fear felines?!”) but the birds just scatter, only to return moments later once he has cooled off a bit.

Because of sense of smell is so strong, he has to use his handkerchief more than usual to block out aromas he finds migraine-inducing. This gives others the impression that he's more displeased than he actually is, making them somewhat hesitant to approach him.

He does his very best to mask any purring as grumbling or just grunting. (He will reverently deny it if you ask him if he purred.)

Getting wet (from rain, from random splashes of water, etc.) ruins his entire day. Rollo staunchly refuses to use magic to dry himself off, so he's stuck using a towel (if it's within grasp) or air drying. This leaves him looking like a pathetically angry wet cat, fur all matted and mood sour as he profusely shivers.

Warm weather or conditions makes him super sleepy (much to Rollo’s chagrin). It’s a war between his iron will and his drowsiness…! (Ultimately, he ends up dozing off by the fireplace on late nights writing at his desk. Luckily for him, his aide and/or vice president will drape a jacket or a blanket over him to keep him comfortable. "Hehe... President Rollo's so cute.")

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #Rollo Flamme #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #curiouser and curiouser

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withacapitalp · 3 months

Text

Dear You, Pt 1

For the miraculous amazing wonderful @artbean LEX I am SO happy I got to be your Valentine this year I am so excited for you to get to enjoy every bit of this story, and I can't wait to scream about it with you now that I FINALLY can. Also a very huge thank you to @hbyrde36 for being the worlds BEST beta and encouraging me every single day on this. I can't wait to watch this one grow

Link to AO3

----- It all started with a dimebag.

Well, actually, it started long before that, not that Eddie had any clue back then.

For him though, it started with a dimebag.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Eddie said, huffing out an incredulous laugh as he stared down Steve Harrington, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Despite what his new sheep seemed to think about the former King of Hawkins High, Eddie knew guys like Harrington. They didn’t change, or somehow suddenly evolve into not shitty humans. They were high school has-beens, losers, dicks who never had to grow up because daddy would always be there to protect them.

Steve coming to see him alone after Hellfire? The only way that was going to end was with a plastic baggie and cash exchanging hands, or some kind of fucked up prank that he would laugh about with his other jock douchebags for all of a week.

But King Steve hadn’t done either of those things. In an increasingly confusing turn of events, Harrington had apparently come to him to ask Eddie to sell weed to Jonathan Byers.

Jonathan Byers… the guy who stole his girlfriend right out from under him.

“Look man, he’s too nervous to come to you directly, and I wouldn’t give a fuck about buying for him, but I know you still charge me the asshole tax-” Steve said, running his fingers through his oh-so-perfect hair and sighing as he turned back to Eddie with an even more determined look in his eye.

“You earned the asshole tax, Harrington,” Eddie cut in, a bit harsher than he meant to. Steve almost flinched back and Eddie bit his tongue before he could start ranting. He didn’t really care about Steve’s feelings, but he wasn’t looking to become one of the bullies that he constantly railed against.

Besides, he wanted answers, and he wouldn’t get those from antagonizing Steve past the point of conversation.

“Regardless,” Steve continued on, “I told him that I can’t keep floating the extra cash and he has to start buying from you directly.”

Steve had repeated that same point about five times in this conversation, but Eddie still didn’t get it. No matter how he tried to rearrange it, he just couldn’t make it make sense.

“So you, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, have been buying weed for Jonathan Byers, and you’re just paying the extra money that I charge you for your high school jock tendencies out of the goodness of your ever-so-loving heart?” Eddie asked rhetorically, raising a brow.

Steve nodded anyway and Eddie crossed his arms, his brow furrowing at the completely innocent expression on Steve’s face.

“Why?”

That was the question wasn’t it? What did Steve get out of all of this? Having something to hold over Jonathan couldn’t be worth that much, the asshole tax was a pretty big hike after all. Besides, Will was one of the kids he drove around town all the time.

Were they…friends? Was that even possible?

“Will you do it?” Steve asked, bluntly avoiding the question with a look that told Eddie he wasn’t getting any answers.

“He knows where the picnic table is and what my hours are,” Eddie answered, starting to get bored of the cryptic conversation, “You didn’t have to come here for all this.”

“Look, Jonathan’s been through a lot-”

“You’re telling me that?” Eddie said, a sharp laugh exploding from his chest at the hypocrisy of that statement. Unless he was forgetting, it was Harrington that had beat Jonathan’s face in two years ago, not him.

This time Steve actually did flinch back, his entire body on guard and defensive, coiled like a snake and ready to strike. Eddie was ready for a blow, a punch to the gut or a new black eye to sport for the next few weeks.

But it never came.

Harrington just…stood there, walls high as can be, obviously uneasy but unwilling to leave until he got what he had come here for. The vicious little joy he had gotten at finally landing a hit on the impervious King Steve was quickly waning the longer they just stood there, looking at each other, regret pressing down on the deep buried wounds Eddie hid in his chest.

He knew better than most how much it hurt to constantly have your own failures thrown back in your face.

“Are you done being a douchebag?” Steve asked quietly when the silence had gotten appropriately uncomfortable. Eddie jerked his head upwards in a nod and Steve sighed again, looking away and letting his eyes wander around the drama room rather than look at Eddie.

“All I’m askin’ is that you don’t overcharge him, and don’t do your whole scary demon leader thing. ‘Kay?”

“And I should listen to you, why?” Eddie asked, leaning back and sliding up to sit on the table, faux nonchalance dripping from every pore. He wasn’t looking to be too mean, not anymore, but it was still fun to watch Harrington squirm a little bit.

“Because if you don’t I’ll sic our mutual children on you, and, trust me, you don’t want to be on Will Byers’s shit list.” Steve said with a wry little grin, obviously thinking about all the ways the kids would make Eddie’s life hell if he said no. “By the way, they don’t know Jon smokes, so don’t tell them.”

“All sales are sacrosanct, as you know,” Eddie immediately responded, his personal code jumping out.

Eddie was a lot of things, but he was no snitch. Munsons never turned, never gave up anything that they had been given to hide, not even on the threat of death. His father was shitty for many, many, reasons, but Al had taught him at least one good thing.

“Why does Byers need so much weed anyway?” Eddie asked, trying to turn the conversation casual again, “I thought you were smoking like every night for those migraines the brats are always going on about.”

It was a completely normal thing to say, nothing sharp or biting in the slightest, but the second the words were out of his mouth, all of the blood drained from Steve’s face, and his hand immediately shot up to rub at the side of his neck. He even took a step back, needing extra space between them for some damn reason.

“Nah, I don’t um-” Steve took a deep shaking breath, looking like he had seen a monster. “Drugs aren’t really my thing anymore.”

Drugs weren’t his thing?

Even before the concussions, Harrington was one of Eddie’s top customers. And after getting his head bashed in, Steve was at the picnic table making weekly transactions, always for the same exact amount of product. They almost had it down to a science- 40 bucks, two baggies, have a nice day.

But something about the way Steve was holding himself- the hunched up shoulders and the way his eyes looked about a thousand miles away- it just felt bad.

There was pain there, deep, unnerving pain, and it made Eddie believe every word he was saying.

“After-” Steve cut himself off again, forcing another deep breath in, this one more steady. Eddie could almost physically see Steve put himself back together, the mask of aloof uncaring King Steve coming over his face in a way that was comforting in its familiarity, but disturbing in its motion.

“Drugs aren’t my thing anymore,” Steve repeated, voice sturdy and walls ten miles high.

“Okay, no worries,” Eddie said, unable to keep all of the gentleness out of his voice. He didn’t exactly want to treat Harrington like one of his lost sheep, but he couldn’t help the urge to protect that came over him any time he saw someone in need. “Uh- tell Byers to meet me on Tuesdays. I’ll- um- charge him the friends and family discount.”

Eddie never had a problem overcharging rich jerks from Loch Nora, but he could swing a bit of an income dip for another kid with one parent and way too many bills on the table.

“Tuesday and Friday,” Steve countered, like they were in a fricken tennis match.

“Tuesday and Friday it is,” Eddie agreed easily, hopping down from his spot and walking towards the door patting Steve twice on the shoulder as he passed him, enjoying the way it made the other boy jump.

Some things would just never change, and freaking out a jock was still one of life’s beautiful little pleasures.

The two of them walked out of the school in an amicable silence. They weren’t friends, Eddie could never imagine thinking of Steve like that, but they weren’t exactly enemies. Steve was no longer who he had been, if the kids were to be believed, but that didn’t matter much to Eddie. He had still been that person, and that was enough reason to dislike him.

Was there a word for that? A word for a person whom you no longer hated, but still didn’t really care to know? There had to be people in the world who had dealt with this particular issue.

Eddie was so deep in his thoughts that he barely noticed walking out the door and down the steps. He only realized they were at their destination when Steve broke away, turning and going in the opposite direction.

“Thanks,” Harrington called out with a toss of his hand over his shoulder, walking towards his lonely Beemer in the other corner of the parking lot.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Eddie muttered, still distracted by the question.

Eddie cared about the brats, he knew that. He was handing down the legacy of Hellfire to those hellions, and he knew they would do well. And the kids cared about Steve, for some inexplicable reason. Henderson was desperate to make them best friends for god's sake.

Well, best friends they would never be, but maybe an olive branch would push them towards something better. If Harrington was going to be in his life more, Eddie at least wanted it to be bearable.

“Hey Steve?” Eddie shouted from across the parking lot, catching Steve’s attention and making him turn around.

“If you- um- ever decide drugs are ‘your thing’ again, I’ll cut your asshole tax in half,” Eddie offered, feeling inexplicably embarrassed and trying to hide his blush behind his hair, “For Henderson, you know?”

“Just be nice to Jonathan, that’s all I’m askin’ for!” Steve shouted back.

Jonathan.

Eddie shook his head, jogging over to his van and fumbling for the keys, nearly dropping them as he went to unlock the door.

“Jonathan fucking Byers what are you bringing into my life?” Eddie mumbled to himself, already sure that this was going to lead to absolutely nothing good.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #NOT STEDDIE #sorry kings!#jeddie #Jonathan and Eddie?#idk how to tag this RIP #stranger things #st #st drabble #st4 #it's gonna be fun #sweetandspicyexchange

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powderblueblood · 3 months

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GETTING TO KNOW YOUR EDDIE

— the 411 on the loser playboy of the midwestern world

Tagged by @jo-harrington & @deathbecomesthem who got this stunning prompt on the road, love this love youse

let’s talk MUNSON!

What story is he from? What kind of story is it (Fix-it fic, Older!Eddie, Rockstar!Eddie etc)? The Eddie darling that takes up prime real estate in my brain is of course Hellfire & Ice Eddie, which is a teen romantic-dramadey with sprinkles of crime capers on top. We meet him at 18 years of age, drug dealin’, Dungeon wheelin’, at the absolute top of his bottom of the food chain game. He’s all raw nerve and engine sputter, our consummate not ready for prime time player. He is brassy, ballsy, funny, terrified.

What inspired you to write this Eddie? Flight of Icarus, actually! It reignited my initial love for him by basically confirming what I had already known to be true—he’s a little bitch that’ll take any opportunity to be struck down lovesick and he’s doomed by his bloodline.

What are your favorite headcanons about him/share something you never shared in your story? Eddie runs on a full tank of defiance, just burning rubber against what’s expected of kids his age—but to zoom in? Eddie sometimes wonders what it would be like if he was different. Tried harder. Cut his hair, joined the basketball team, really pulled himself up by his bootstraps and divorced himself from his stain of a last name. Folded in and blended, made all the right moves. Why couldn’t I do that? he thinks, Just pretend. I’m good at making shit up. But that’s selling out. And Eddie Munson is no sell out—rap sheet or no, his life is his own.

What does he wear on a casual day? On a dressier day? What does he wear to bed? Casual day, it’s your cartoon character stock costume of insert band t-shirt here, ripped jeans there, doubled up battle vest and leather cut to top it all off. There might be a variant in jean shade but that’s it. He likes to stick to a look. The dressiest he’ll go (he does not own dressy clothes) is a black cable knit sweater, very old, with the thumb holes worried through the cuffs. To bed, preferably nothing, but boxers of absolutely necessary and a very old, ratty pair of flannel PJ bottoms and an old t-shirt or a faded sweatshirt of Wayne’s if it’s freezing.

Favorite foods? This FUCK loves a pizza with the most fuckass toppings. Anchovy, black olive, pepperoni, sweetcorn (for the vitamins!), pineapple (for the jizz thing!) all on the one pie. But he can cook, to an extent, and we unfortunately have to hand this to ex-line cook Al who taught him how to grill a cheese and make a bitchin’ spaghetti with honeyed tomato gravy and lots of oregano. Eddie also loves a snack he can gesticulate with, see: Twizzler, corn dog, ice pop. Bordering on phallic foods.

Tell Us About His Family/Friends: Immediately in the gene pool—Al, the absent and up-to-no-good father who somehow still has a knife in Eddie’s side and will twist it with the simple words, “C’mon, that’s my boy!” Wayne, uncle and father figure, silent but loving and the only real pillar Eddie could ever lean against, and he feels like such a burden for it sometimes. Elizabeth, mommy dearest and dead, canonised like a saint in Eddie’s mind, and might have been but also might not have been. The root of his love of music and his need to tell stories to survive. The found-by-the-hand-of fate family— Ronnie Ecker, the Stalter to his Waldorf, the Bonham to his Page, the only person he’d ever follow into battle because you wouldn’t think it but Ronnie, who is secretly rage akimbo, would accidentally lead that charge. He loves her like a sister, she loves him like a dog. Just kidding. Maybe. He wants to be Ronnie Ecker when he grows up. Granny Ecker comes as part of this deal, one of the people credited with whooping Eddie into shape. We don’t quite know what shape yet, it’s Picassoan in nature. Then, the extension again that is the great Corroded Coffin/Hellfire crossover event—Jeff, Cyrus, Dougie and Gareth. He’s not quite as close with the boys, but they’re good boys. They love and fear him, except for Cyrus who is a true enigma which pisses Eddie off because he’s supposed to be the fucking enigma here, dammit.

Yeah Yeah, he's a Metalhead. Tell Us MORE About His Taste in Music in your story: We are working off Flight of Icarus rules so he’s got a taste in the mouth for Howlin’ Wolf style blues, real down and dirty Detroit shit. He also loves a sleazeball, so enter Tom Waits and when he’s feeling REALLY sentimental, Leonard Cohen. Eddie loves to bite a thumb so he has some punk spinning too—Richard Hell, MC5, The Cramps, and reluctantly Iggy and the Stooges. They’re Al’s favourite so kind of tainted. Last but not least, I think that Johnny Cash’s Live From Folsom Prison album gets a lot of play. Particularly Cocaine Blues and Dark in the Dungeon, which he’s definitely incorporated into some campaign. He does NOT listen to CHICK MUSIC because he’s a loser boy (Wayne has a Linda Ronstadt record that makes him cry).

What are his views on romance? On sex? Eddie Munson falls in love fourteen times a day because at the be all and end all, he’s an artist and he’s sensitive as shit. Let’s get one thing straight—he can flirt to beat the band, once anyone gives him the time of day. Which they don’t. But in his mind? He’s a silver tongued Casanova. It’s just easier to use on people he hates. Once he has a crush, he has an obsession, even if he’s oftentimes too chickenshit to act on it. Cue pulling pigtails in the playground routine. He wants so badly to worship someone and be worshipped in return, okay, it’s reciprocal worshipping—give him mutual pathological obsession or give him DEATH. He wants to build a shrine, and will, to the right person. He’ll preoccupy his mind with every detail about them to the point where, yeah, it is borderline kind of stalkery but he’s still 18 years old. Speaking of, sex? Yeah, he’s done it. Badly. He’s like to do it again, goodly. He’d like to do it with someone that wasn’t treating it like an experiment, someone who’d let him slobber all over them and rut and keen and whine like the hound in heat he fucking feels like. He has no goddamn control! He experiences pleasure in a total headrush, never been able to stay cool and sexy and commanding a day in his life. He just wants, wants, wants and he burns so hot. Eddie wants so clumsily that it comes out at the most inappropriate times, like the nurse’s office after he gets his fist busted. He’s not some sex god, just some dick with an overeager cock. But he sure is willing to put in the work.

Is he optimistic or pessimistic? Pessimistic on the surface, the life is shit and then you die so might as well do some whippits poster boy but so so secretly, Eddie holds the tiniest flame of hope that someday, somehow, things will get better. At the very least easier. That he’ll grow into his bones somehow, or someone will help soothe him into them. That he’ll feel some kind of belonging. Because he does want that, really. Some soft place to land.

Where or with whom is he most comfortable? Those pockets of alchemy at Hellfire Club when he’s got a rapt audience. With Ronnie, sitting on the sagging couch outside his trailer. Playing chauffeur to a certain princess across-the-way.

What are his views of his future? What are his hopes/dreams? Pie in the sky? Cover of Circus with his cheeks out, duh. A Grammy or two, his own metal club, a published fantasy author, shit. He’s not askin’ for the world, here! But honestly, Eddie’s view of his future is 18 year old misanthropist bleak. He hasn’t even considered college as an option, not that he’d get there with his grades. He figures he might just start selling full time for Rick once (if) he graduates then hopefully have the good enough sense to take his money and split to Chicago or someplace. Might hit it lucky when he’s played in a couple more iterations of Corroded Coffin and con someone into letting him be a session guitarist—which wouldn’t be the cover of Circus, but would still be a huge deal! But as much as an ego game as he likes to talk, he’s got this terrible, looming feeling that he’ll never leave Hawkins alive.

What do you imagine his future looks like? (If your story is incomplete or if this would be a spoiler you're not willing to share, you can skip this question.) I’ll give you a couple details, because I am writing a sequel about this. Picture a brief stint in Indianapolis. Meaner, grizzlier, bartender-ier, going on a decade of heartbreak, performing at his sexual best but nearing burnout and about to turn 30 with some side dealings at home that are edging out of the side and into the forefront. Heavy is the hand that wears the ring. You look so much like your father!

Anything else you'd like us to know about your Eddie/your story? He is so full of love and piss and vinegar. He is going to end up cherished. Like, violently so.

Optional Vulnerable Question: Why do you write fics for Eddie Munson? I love a tragedy touched smartass who folds at the first sign of affection. I want to nourish him and eat him up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Or have Lacy do it for me, whatever.

tagging: YOU. READING THIS. Not KIDDING IF YOURE READING THIS GET TO WORK

#YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY #you can tell I came up through rp by reading this #wrote on mobile so if you see typos NO U DIDNT!#e. munson by powder #hai brainrot

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shroudkeeper · 8 months

Text

02. prompt / bark

Enveloped in darkness I spied her, a picturesque vision of radiance and splendor, swathed in billowing silks against a wind that stole a feverish caress from her skin. She was armed with a scythe that appeared to be made of hellfire, splendid and monstrous in appearance.

Fog slithered around her naked ankles and rose around her frame, shielding her from view, as she silently entered a disquieting area saturated with the scent of death and ill presence, one that I assumed caused this haze and fatalities.

From the ominous gloom ahead, between the bare trees that dappled the landscape in unsettling silhouettes, stood her adversaries over the bodies of the deceased, slain by their blades. Her targets.

I wanted to interfere, brandish my blade and let it ring in battle and take on her burden, destroy them, and deliver their demise to her feet. However, suddenly something anchored my feet to the earth and my body refused to move.

In the woods resonated the guttural sounds of beasts, bouncing off the hides of the trees and filling my ears. A chill journeyed from the back of my neck down the curve of my spine as the bloodcurdling, visceral sounds, rose around her.

I could not see her features from where I stood, but I doubt fright had seized hold of her, for this was her domain. This was her world and I was merely a visitor watching it unfold at her silent command.

Darkness solidified around her; ravenous eyes blinked into existence, followed by cacophonous howls that drove her foes into a frenzy. Yet she stood, statuesque as two hounds rose several fulms high, matching the height and the rough bark of the trees that encircled us.

Feeling returned to my legs after being transfixed on what transpired before me; I readied myself to charge to protect her, for if she was to be felled, it would not be here. But their multiple, luminous gazes were cast upon me, warning me in their glare, daring me to approach. Her back was to me, she didn't bother to cast a glance past the curve of her shoulder. Instead, she readied for an incoming attack.

And I could only watch in awe and curse her companions all the same for keeping her from me.

- Shigure Yatakura

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv writing #ffxiv screenshot #ff14 screenshot

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wroteclassicaly · 2 years

Note

Desperate subby eddie? You are feeding us well 😭

Warnings: Piss kink, watersports, NSFW, language, Submissive!Eddie.

~*~

Think about it though… Because that boy is needy. Fucking agonizingly so. And it has to be a mood, too. Eddie in submissive mode can come at the most random times, yet there’s those moments you can pick it up on the air. Like each taste inside his mouth, how his tongue is a little less combative, his muscles more pliant and unwillingly to tighten around you, permitting the lead.

So, naturally he’d be inclined to let you do whatever you see fit with him. Even if that’s making him hold his piss.

“Fuck. Baby, please.” He’d be whining and holding his cock through his tight denim.

You grip his jaw and tsk. “Did I fucking say you could call me anything other than my given name when I’m in charge here, you needy little boy?”

Massaging over his own hand, you smirk, knowing the squirming discomfort that he’s clearly in. Raising a brow, you wait, but impatience gets the better of you seconds later. “Just so you know, little dungeon master, you’re not allowed to touch my pussy. At all.”

He looks as if you’d destroyed music for the rest of eternity. And in the truth of it all? Hearing your melodic moans is its own genre. Those chocolate irises are disappearing. He likes to be a meek mouse to your evil kitty cat.

“Don’t take it from me, M’am. Please.”

“Ah. I’ve trained you better, baby boy. You should’ve known better.”

He twists in his seat as you are cushioned by his dungeon master throne, making him kneel with his hands in his lap, rings glowing beneath the light. “M’am…” It’s through a pleading set of clenched teeth.

“If you run your mouth to me again, I am taking that cum rag from your back pocket and gagging you with it, do you understand?”

Eddie fights the urge to look at his skull cluttered bandana. You’d pissed on it before, used it to clean his cum off various places. And after a good and sturdy wash, Eddie wears it with pride, always ready to have it for good use at any given time or place. He instead nods. “Yes, b—I mean, M’am. Mistress. I don’t even deserve to cum, or… piss.”

Beaming at him, it slowly slithers into a Cheshire wide grin. “No, but you can watch me.” You hold out your hand, fingers beckoning. “Give me your bandana and take your cock out.”

“If I’m hard I can’t—“

“You were right when you said you didn’t deserve to piss, little boy. But as your mistress, it’s my duty to make sure you understand that you have to be punished for that smart mouth. And what’s gonna happen,” You say, a brief pause as you tug your panties down. “is that I’m going to piss on your cock.”

Eddie’s shaky fingers fumbling with his belt to obey your instruction, halt entirely, his dick throbbing painfully, causing him to let out an anguished groan. Lifting your skirt, you hover over his lap, accepting his bandana and observing his hard cock—already soaked in pre-cum, discomfort clear on his beautiful features. You tug his wrists up and wrap the fabric around them, licking your lips as you admire your work seconds after it’s finished. Your metal head boyfriend, kneeling before you, layered in tattoos, jeans and boxers bunched below his ass, Hellfire shirt up above his happy trail to expose his navel, hair in a tangled frenzy, sweat slicking his temples, cheeks flushed a dusty pink, pupils blown midnight sky deep, and that thick cock, flushed and slick, his lips red and parched. At this angel you can practically count every freckle, hear every hitch in his breath, see every tremble in his body.

He knows it too. There’s a moment where your bravado falters so you can check in on him, a smile on your lips. He tilts his head and you incline your head for him to speak. “Just so you know, when I am allowed to piss, I’m using your skirt, princess.”

You bite into your knuckles as you crouch, hovering above his lap, lifting his bound hands around your neck to drape down your back. “But you’re okay?” You brush your fingers through his long locks, concern pressing your mouth.

He’s giddy and warm at that. He brings his face forward and nuzzles your nose with his own. “M’ perfect, my lady. Now.” His mouth finds your ear in a brief lean-up. “Make me pay, Mistress.”

You both look between your legs at your glistening cunt that’s drizzling your cream onto Eddie’s dick in thick strings. It jumps against his stomach, making his knees jerk into the floor. He’s gonna have bruises tomorrow. That feeling tickles your insides and Eddie is alert, receptive to every ounce of your spray that soaks him—all over his happy trail, drowning his cock, and drenching his Hellfire shirt. You can’t help it but to bury your face in his neck and bite down.

He whimpers in response, those sounds diving off his perfect mouth and vibrating against your throat. It’s gonna be a long damned night…

#asks #kristenwrites #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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dilf-din · 1 year

Text

The Betrayal

WC: 800

Rating: T

Summary: mandalorian!reader watches as Din is taken by Moff Gideon

Warnings: canon typical violence, death, ANGST, chapter 23 spoilers for the Mandalorian

Shots rang overhead. The sound of beskar on beskar making your ears ring. Your whole party was pinned down by blaster fire. You stood strong in front of Grogu, caught in hand to hand combat with whatever new breed of trooper had just ambushed your search party, stabbing him in the neck with a vibroblade and watching him crumble. You didn’t know how long you would be able to hold them off. Already outnumbered with more waves on the way, you were sure of it. Minutes felt like hours when you could deal little to no damage to a body so well protected. Your eyes scanned for Din, seeing him take out trooper after trooper.

Bo-Katan’s voice rang over the noise calling your party further into the cave. You urged the IG unit to follow covering it with a blaster knowing it was doing little to no good. You had lost sight of Din in the chaos. Your chest tight as you scanned the bodies for that gleam of silver.

Of course he had was leading the pack, reckless but in control as ever. Until he wasn’t. You heard the bay doors closing and your blood ran cold. There he was. On the other side. Alone. The mandalorians that had charged forward with him cut down in an instant.

You launched your body into the thick glass knowing good and well it wouldn’t produce a scratch. His name shrieked from your lungs as you watched him get overpowered. Paz’s hand on your shoulder silently urged you to take a breath. Your heart thrummed in your ears echoing off of the helmet around you. How could you breathe when the one who makes it possible was standing out of your reach with a gun to his head.

The sound of Moff Gideon’s voice brought you back down to earth, or rather, Mandalore. He spoke of purging your people, and the blood that was running like ice in your veins was closer to boiling. You pushed IG-12 further into the shadows, blocking his body with yours once again. You would do anything to keep Grogu out of his sight. He had one member of your clan in his clutches, and that was enough. You rolled your neck getting ready to rain hellfire on him for the last time.

Bo-Katan rushed to the back of the pack and started to cut an opening in the thick steel doors using the dark saber. Grogu watched intently, his brown eyes reflecting the white hot blade. Gideon’s speech rang on about how he had invaded your planet, stolen your resources, killed your people. Your hand itching to grab your blaster and silence him once and for all. The vengeance for what he had done to Grogu, what he attempted to do to Din, the satisfaction of your hands being the reason he drew his last breath making you blind with anger.

But then he placed his own counterfeit helmet on his head and flew off into the distance. The troopers holding Din down now dragging him out of your sight as he thrashed with every ounce of strength he had. The bay doors opened once more as Paz now led the attack gunning down the entire squadron with ease. You rushed to the front to cover him with your own blasters while the rest of your party filed single file through the escape route that Bo-Katan had opened up.

“We’re clear, fall back!” she yelled as the last members filed back into the hall. Your presence fell deeper into the hanger, your hand on his shoulder willing him to follow, but he stood strong.

“We’re not leaving you behind!” she yelled.

“Go, there are too many,” he yelled back, voice even, you could tell his mind was made up.

“Suum ca’nara, ner ori’vod,” you whispered through tears, slowly pulling your hand off of his shoulder.

“This is the way,” he said resolutely, slamming the button to the bay doors one last time, locking you and Bo in safety.

“No!” she lunged forward. You both stood in a heavy silence before you nodded your head towards the opening. She reluctantly followed, knowing he would die with honor.

As you snaked your way through the roughly hewn hole, you thought of Ragnar. Every shot you fired from now on would be for him. Every blow you dealt. Every swish of your blade. For him, for Grogu, and for all the other foundlings subject to exist in a world with so much vile hatred for their kind.

Tears stung your eyes as you tried to center your mind on the only thing that mattered: getting Din home.

Mando’a translations

Suum ca’nara: rest peacefully

Ner ori’vod: my older brother, trusted friend

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian angst #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian spoilers #paz vizsla #the mandalorian drabble #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you

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