#camp halfwit bulletin post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toomanybandstocare · 11 months

Text

{Naboo Sunset}

Program: When Padmé sends word to you that Rex will be on an extended leave this time, you make sure that he'll enjoy his well deserved rest with no worries. Even with General Skywalker in on your plan, no one could have foreseen how Rex would react to your affection. Naboo will always be where the two of you point as the start of your lives as riduurs.

Pairing: Captain Rex x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Length: 2636w

Camp Resolute's Masterlist

ClonexReader Bingo

Prompt: Sunset

Warnings: Mild suggestiveness, Petnames (usual Mando'a ones), Alcohol (not to the point of getting drunk)

Counselor Notes: Well this took a turn I didn't see coming! Thank you @ghostofskywalkerfor the idea of a sunset date with Rex <3 For the @clonexreaderbingo.

“So, just to make sure I understand correctly,” Rex slowly voices his concern as he walks off the Twilight with Skywalker, “Senator Amidala requested extra security for the Senate gathering that Naboo is hosting, and the GAR only sent the two of us”. After working with the general for most of his military career, Rex is wary when it comes to any mission with the jedi. His concern only grows when he knows the general is hiding something from him. Rex scans the royal hanger with his eyes, and his suspicions heighten when he realizes their ship is the only one not from this planet.

“No,” Anakin drags out. “But we are here by special request. That part isn’t a lie”.

Rex rolls his eyes and sighs, “Then why are we here, sir?”

The two men reach the main entrance where the guard lets them into the palace with no questions asked. Rex’s eyebrow raises at the lack of protocol. His heart quickens as they walk through the bright palace halls. Normally, Rex can push aside the insecurity that comes with feeling like an outsider, but the grandeur of the royal halls and the luxurious outfits that its inhabitants wear cause him to sink into himself slightly. Finding comfort in the plastoid armor that his brothers wear alongside him even systems away.

Anakin looks at the captain out of the corner of his eyes for a moment, taking note of his stiff posture. He focuses on his gaze in front of them, but he then bears off to a side corridor. He leads Rex to a hidden staircase and explains, “The 501st has been granted an extended leave after our last success”.

Rex’s eyebrows furrow, “Then why are we on Naboo?” He’s careful to keep his voice calm so as to not betray the growing hope that’s overcoming him. The last rays of early evening bleed into a vibrant sunset over the lake from the open archways that line the outer wall.

“I may, or may not, have lied about the Senator requesting you to be here,” Skywalker sheepishly admits. “That doesn’t mean someone else didn’t request your presence, though”.

Reaching the top of the stairwell, Skywalker steps to the side and opens the door for Rex. His signature smirk appears on his face, and Rex thinks this is finally the moment he’ll strangle the general for everything he's been put through. Fully ready to voice his intent, Rex’s body freezes at the sight of you sitting at a table for two on the palace’s terrace.

Dressed in a summer evening outfit, you look at your partner in amusement as he can’t take his eyes off you. His expression of disbelief makes you lightly chuckle. Warmth blankets around you as the sun kisses your skin causing butterflies to tickle your stomach.

“I’ll leave you two to it. We’ll have a few weeks here, Rex, so try to actually relax on your time off,” Skywalker quietly dismisses himself. Before he completely moves away, he nods at you in gratitude.

You smile lightly at the general, and you focus your gaze on Rex. “Care to join me? It’d be a shame to let this go to waste,” you say and motion to the table full of fruit, cheese, and bread. A jug of water sits on the side of the table with a bottle of wine in a chiller stand.

Rex can’t breathe as he takes in this moment. Memorizing it to hold close for the rest of his life, his heart swells to the point where he swears he's going to break. “How,” Rex tries to find his voice as he walks towards you, “How did you plan this?”

You reach your hands out to him and grasp his gloved hands. Rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles, you explain, “I had some help. Padmé learned about it through her husband, and she sent me a message. Offered to let us have a vacation away from prying eyes”. You look up at him from your seat and flutter your eyelashes. The soft smile on your face growing as Rex looks down at you in adoration. A flush warms your cheeks when he takes one hand to tilt your chin up towards him. His gentle touch ignites sparks across your skin.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Rex quietly mumbles before placing a kiss to your lips. His hand then cups your jaw to help guide you into a better position to deepen the kiss. His lips move against yours and pride warms his chest when you meet him with equal tenderness. Everything feels as if it comes to a standstill as the two of you reunite and fall into your partner’s embrace.

You rest your free hand on his hip and run your thumb over the new scratches on the worn plastoid. Silently thanking the stars for safely returning Rex to you one more time. Rex pulls away from your lips, and before you can protest, he places a quick peck to your pout. Your heart races from the small act, and you meet his affectionate gaze with a similar look on your face. “I think you’ve voiced the idea one or two times,” you muse, “You did, did however, say we would need all the time in the galaxy to truly express how much you adore me”.

You lightly laugh and let him step away to find his seat across from you, and his laughter soon joins yours. You pour water into both your glasses while you softly inquire. “How would you like to go about your vacation?” When Rex raises an eyebrow as he slips off his gloves, your cheeks flame as your mind begins to wander from the terrace oasis to the luxurious bedroom the two of you will find comfort in soon enough. “We have a gift sitting in front of us. If you want, we could completely ignore the war for a short time. Get lost in our imaginations of what it would be like to spend our lives peacefully hidden away from the galaxy,” you elaborate.

Rex looks at you with a thoughtful expression. His eyes flickering from your ethereal appearance to the beautiful scenery that leads his mind to all the possible afternoon rendez-vous the two of you could find yourselves in before noticing the small quirk of your lips. His chest aches at the care you’ve put into this experience for him, and he leans forward to grasp one of your hands across the table. “That’s a very dangerous idea, cyar’ika,” Rex muses.

“Don’t you flirt with death everyday, love?” you tease and squeeze his hand. “How could a blossoming field of flowers beside a tranquil lake pose more of a threat than a battlefield?”

Rex chuckles and looks up at you from his eyelashes. His amber eyes hold a roguish glint that only grows in intensity at the small shiver that falls over your body. When he responds, he voice drops into a gravelly, hushed tone, “I meant dangerous for you, cy’are. Three weeks tucked away from any distractions where I can finally take my time to love and adore you. Worship you every morning, afternoon, and evening for everyday we live in paradise. You’re offering me too much when it should be me who offers you everything”.

Your breath hitches and the blush rising to your cheeks rivals the sunset’s rich red and orange hues that paint the sky. Heart pounding against its cage, your voice comes out airy: “Whatever you desire, I shall give to you during our time together. As long as you promise that you’ll return to me each time we must part ways”.

Rex feels like he can’t breathe. A wash of guilty pleasure consumes him as you bite down on a strawberry. The glistening juice trails across your lip before your tongue swipes across to collect it. Your lighthearted laugh seemingly brings a brighter glow that Rex didn’t think was possible to the golden beams of sunlight that stream through the hanging flowers. His other hand subtly moves to his utility belt as you turn your head to watch the sun set against the great lake. Rex is thankful that you let him get lost in his thoughts this time, because he wants to do right by you for this change in your relationship.

“I will do everything in my power to come home to you, so we can continue to create memories like these together,” Rex promises. His voice softens into a reverent awe, and as he speaks he unclasps one of his pouches.

“I know,” you softly acknowledge, “I will always count down the days until we reunite, but during those days I will always worry for your well being and safety”. Rex’s hand squeezes yours, and your expression drops. Not daring to look at your lover, you keep your attention to the families and friends who gather by the lake’s shore to begin their summer celebration. Your chest constricts as hugs are shared and shouts of excitement crescendo against the evening’s warm breeze.

Rex ducks his head and sighs. His fingers hesitate when they graze the small box he’s kept safe by his side during his last few deployments. When he steals a glance at you, Rex’s heart all but breaks at the adoration he holds for you. Sitting before him, Rex looks upon his lover who holds him with such care and tender love. Who understands him better than he does. Who goes through every obstacle to stand by his side and support him in a galaxy that causes a fear to fester in the back of his mind. A lover who walks him off the edge when his emotions get the best of him. There’s no one more deserving of his lifetime devotion after everything his cy’are has done for him. Certainly, no one who he could imagine living the rest of his life with.

With a reignited spark of resolve, Rex scoops the small box into his hand and clasps the pouch. “I can’t promise that a worst case scenario will never happen,” Rex quietly begins. When you turn to face him with a worried expression that nearly makes him choke, he takes a deep breath. “However, if there is a way for me to find my way back to you, I will always search for it. There is nothing in this galaxy that could keep me from returning to you. The only exception being death itself”.

Your breathing begins to grow heavy as you listen to Rex’s declaration. A night you hoped would be full of laughter and relaxation now renders you speechless while feeling the weight of his words sink into you. Your heart races as you watch Rex rise to his feet and return to your side once more. “Rex,” you softly question. Only for a quiet gasp to slip past your lips when he drops to one knee now holding your hand with such tenderness as he trails his thumbs across your knuckles.

Rex’s heart pounds against his chest as blood rushes to his ears. An overwhelming mixture of emotions makes him feel dizzy, but he will not let this opportunity pass. “I have never met a person who willingly gives a piece of their heart to whoever may need it. Someone who cares so deeply for their loved ones or people they have only just met, because you believe that everyone deserves to feel cared about. Regardless of if you’ve spent weeks with them or just a few minutes. You offer your heart to anyone and trust them to take care of it just as you would theirs, because you hold hope that the galaxy will rebuild itself into a place where everyone feels at home once more”.

“You’re going to make me cry,” you let out a watery laugh and wipe away the threatening tears, “You better not be doing what I think you’re trying to do. This vacation is supposed to be about you”.

Rex lets out a short laugh of disbelief as he shakes his head. He looks up at you with a beaming smile, “But that’s just it, cy’are. Without you, I am a shell of a man. You have brought so much light and love into my life that I never dared to dream possible. My heart only beats for you, and I want to spend the remaining days of my life by your side”. Rex slides his thumb under the ring box’s lid as his thunderous heartbeat echoes in his ears. “If you will allow me the honor, I would like to care for you with just as much devotion as you have shown me in the time we have already shared together”.

Your eyes soften as Rex opens the ring box to reveal a simple silver band with a small sapphire in the middle. The last rays of light catch on the gemstone to cause it to sparkle in the early evening. “You would be a fool to ever think I wouldn’t say yes,” you weakly laugh and run your thumb under your eyes.

“Then say it,” Rex pleads. His amber eyes shimmer with excitement in the golden sunlight as he waits to hear the words he’s only dreamed of hearing you say. “Please”.

“Yes,” you softly assure him, “I would love to spend the rest of my life by your side”. There was never a doubt in your mind that this would be the man you married when you first met, but as Rex slips the band onto your ring finger, you have never known a love so strong. When you try to convey your feelings, the words can’t come. Only a small whimper falls from your lips and a short laugh. So instead you cup Rex’s face, and you share a passionate kiss. Your eyes flutter closed as you commit this moment to memory.

A chuckle of acknowledgement falls from Rex before he nips at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss. Tilting his head, Rex holds your wrists and thumbs your racing pulse points. Your hum causes his skin to tingle. Finally, Rex feels as if he’s found his place in the galaxy. When your kiss breaks, the two of you still lean into each other's embrace and rest your foreheads together. For a few minutes, the pair of you don’t move away. Only shifting slightly to ghost your lips over over the other in featherlight kisses. Nudging your chin with his nose to make you open your eyes, Rex gently places a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling away to stand up.

Instead of sitting across from you like you thought he was doing, your eyebrows raise when he takes his chair and moves it next to yours. “Couldn’t even go a minute without being apart,” you find your voice to tease.

Rex shoots you a look of amusement while reaching over to pick up the bottle of wine from the chiller. “Because you’re any better,” Rex counters and nods to your hand resting on his belt. Now adorn by a silver band that only makes his smile grow at the sight. Twisting the cork free, Rex pours both of you glasses of bubbly and places the bottle back in the chiller. As he sits by your side, he offers you a glass and rests a hand on your thigh. He tilts his glass towards you with his usual charming expression. “May we share as many days together as riduurs as there are stars in the galaxy,” he proposes.

Lightly clinking your glass to his, you beam at Rex. “And may we always find our ways home to one another after any time apart”.

218 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{I Don't Believe in Love, Queensrÿche}

Program: Coming home from college should have meant you had all the time in the world to hang out with your best friend. Coming home, you should have been greeted with a hug and promise of summer fun. Coming home, you found the love of your life finally got the girl of his dreams. Instead, heartbreak greeted you with open arms.

Pairing: Best friend!Eddie Munson x GN, in love!Reader, slight Steve Harrington x Reader if you squint

Genre: Angst, Heartbreak

Warnings: couple of swears, drug use (just weed), angst, unrequited love, heartbreak

Length: 2027w

Series Program | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

“You’re in love with him,” Steve whispers almost like he’s afraid. What did he have to fear when you have everything to lose?

Stood frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from the new couple in the living room, your heart screams for the arms of your best friend. To finally return home after another year of sparse letters and scattered phone calls. Eyes stinging as you watch your love embrace someone else. Wondering if the stress of your final year at college drove the two of you apart, once known as the inseparable duo, or if it’s because he was accepted by the girl of his dreams at long last. Clutching the soda can as if it’s your last grasp on reality, you force out the breath caught in your throat to try to alleviate the burning in your chest. Pain scorches your insides leaving stinging pin pricks along every ticked off nerve in your body. Engulfed by a brew of overwhelming emotions - a concoction of devastation, anger, and numbness mix in the empty mold of your heart. Leaving you only to drown in the radiance of the couple’s happiness and tender care.

The chain around your neck quickly coils closer and tighter to suffocate any noise that tries to escape with your response.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be wearing his ring on a necklace that has a typewriter key of my first initial,” you choked out, “I wouldn’t have kept a piece of him next to my heart and soul, if he was truly just my best friend”.

Steve had slowly made his way next to you and firmly wrapped his arms around your trembling body. He takes you in- looks past the brave face you put on and sees the broken lover desperately trying to hold on. Never has he seen you look this hurt in the number of fights you had encountered against the Upside Down, and Steve is terrified that you’re about to shatter before his eyes.

Eyes darting from your blank stare to the couple who had become the center of all attention, Steve so desperately wants to take away your pain. To take you away from the cause. If he held you any tighter - any closer - you would have thought you were at death’s door.

But that love, isn’t it? It lights up your entire world in a beautiful glow. Love is all consuming as it spreads its reach from fleeting thoughts to endless daydreaming.

Until it’s soul crushing. Until it erases absolutely every other meaning of your life. When its warm touch suddenly blazes, and you’re left with memories that burn.

“We can leave. We- we can get out of here. I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked. As if he’s personally responsible for your heartbreak. As if he’s holding Chrissy so tenderly in his arms, rather than Eddie.

Taking a deep breath to extinguish the flaring hurt spreading through your system as best as you could, you redirect your undivided attention to meet Steve’s pain expression with your teary eyes. You stitch up a smile, “It’s okay, Steve. I would have to be naive to think no one would notice him after all these years and finally fall for him. Even a place like Hawkins can’t turn a blind eye to the stunning beauty that is Eddie Munson”. Sniffling as Steve delicately wipes away a stray tear, you choke out, “Eddie Munson, my best friend. Light of my life”.

Absorbed as you pull away from his safe hold and sculpt a new deflective mask, Steve watches as you lock away your heart. He wants to scream. He wants to get down on his knees and beg you to stop rebuilding your walls. Steve wants you to reach out to him - to someone, to anyone - and allow him to help you grieve while learning to move on. He wants you to rip off the guise you have too quickly thrown back on to bury your emotions under a perfect smile and deflective chuckle.

With what could have looked like gleaming excitement to anyone else, you look him right in the eye. “Ready to join the rest of the group, Steve-O?”

He breathes out a half hearted laugh and looks at you with a pained look. “I feel like I should be the one asking you that. To check if you're ready and okay to head over.”

“Then get a grip, Harrington,” you joke, “I want to catch up on missed time with everyone”.

Taking his hand, you walk towards the living room and take in the comforting familiarity that mixes with unknown terrain. Dustin, Will, Mike, and Lucas sit on the floor in front of the couch with character sheets strewn amongst them. Sat behind them and arguing over stat choices, Eddie bends over to get a better look. Chrissy sits on the end of the couch with Eddie’s arm securely wrapped around her as she watches the boys in amused confusion and laughs at their banter. Robin and Max join in the argument from the other side of the couch only to spur on the boys further with the joke suggestions. An almost picture perfect memory.

Across from the main group taking up the couch, Jonathan and Nancy sit on the love seat. As the pair of you approach, they turn to swiftly include you in the ongoing shenanigans with welcoming smiles only to freeze taking in your drastically different attitudes. Jonathan opens his mouth to try to say something, but the words can’t form a coherent thought when met with your plastic smile. Nancy looks to Steve in hopes of an answer only to be met with his hard stare. Seeing the couple openly share their affection, they knew it would only be a matter of time for you to realize why you had to ask them about your best friend rather than hearing from him yourself. The two of them swiftly move to opposite sides of the couch to make room, and Steve perches on the back of the seat with his legs spread enough for you to sit between them on the seat. Keeping his gaze locked and as calm as possible, Steve clasps a hand on your shoulder and rubs gentle circles with his thumb. Nancy immediately puts her hand on your knee leaning over Steve’s outstretched leg to be closer to you, and Johnathan turns to face you better.

If you were going to seal yourself off then they were going to come at your walls from all sides. But they were going to do it on your terms. If you just wanted a night in with your friends, they’ll be damned if you didn’t get that.

Johnathan reached into his backpack at his feet and pulled out a few cassette tapes and a metal tin. “I remember you liked The Clash, right?” he mutters fumbling with everything as he looks for the right tape. “I just got my hands on a copy of Cut the Crap. We could steal the stereo for a bit- I highly doubt they’ll notice the music selection improvement based on how long they’ve been at this,” he jokes.

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” you respond dazed and distracted by the shiny tin, “I got a chance to to listen to it with a buddy back at school- I think you’d like him -before I came back. But, ah, what’s that?” you point to the tin.

He sheepishly looks between you and Nancy while rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s- it’s my stash tin. Couple of pre-rolls”. He hesitantly holds it out to you, “Want to step outside for a bit?” Nancy sighs knowing that it would probably help. Steve merely squeezes your shoulder, silently trying to convey that he would be here for you. That it was okay if you wanted to sneak out and he would take care of you.

You nod, standing up almost mechanically like you were going through the motion of actions. Jonathan reaches over to press a kiss to Nancy’s cheek as you softly smile at Steve’s serious expression. You shrug, “Helps shut off the extra voices and thoughts up here,” tapping the side of your head. “S’not a habit and won’t become one,” you breathe out and notice his gaze slightly soften.

You look at Johnathan, who stands up from his hushed conversation. Making your way out of the living room and back into the kitchen, you stop abruptly when your siren’s voice calls out your name. You can’t help turn to face his twinkling eyes.

“Are you doing a kitchen run?” Eddie asks with a glint of playfulness. You raise an eyebrow, “Why? Too comfy to get a refill yourself?” you tease. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve choke on his Coke while trying to hold in his laughter. Because, fuck, you are not holding anything back even if you choose to hide the truth behind those words. “Unfortunately for you, bud, we’re heading out back for a minute. Fresh air or something,” you chuckle.

Eddie’s eyebrows crease together, and he notices the tin in Johnathan’s hand. Meeting your gaze again, “Since when did you start smoking? You never wanted to in the past”.

“Yeah, in high school. You try new things in college. Stuff happens. People change,” you wave your hand in indifference.

“You said you wouldn’t smoke- seemed pretty set with that and only helping out people get their fix if they were going through something,” he huffed. Everyone’s eyes were bouncing between the two of you as the tense static of unease settled in the air.

“Maybe I became one of those people,” you pause, letting the words hang in the air and sink in. “Or, maybe I need something to help distract myself from the DJ’s poor selection tonight,” you tease.

He gapes at you as everyone bursts into chuckles and laughter. “I have phenomenal taste, thank you very much. We basically have the same taste, you little shit. You can’t say that,” he laughs though slightly still on edge.

You wink and turn back to make your way further into the house hoping to get out before another near catastrophic conversation starts.

“Oh, when you come back, I want to properly introduce you to Chrissy,” he shouts.

Walking as fast you can without damn near sprinting, you slide the glass door open and set out onto the back deck. The two of you wander to the lounge chairs and recline looking up at the starry night sky.

Johnathan takes out a joint from the tin and pulls out a lighter from his jean pocket, pausing to think, before handing them to you. “Don’t isolate yourself,” he quietly begs, “Please”. Focusing on the temporary warmth of the lighter, you take a deep inhale. The first hit of many to come. Jonathan stares at you, taking in your calm expression watching the stars flicker above.

“Have you ever heard of a band called Queensrÿche?” your voice wavered. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his hopeful gaze.

“No, I don’t.” He sat up and fully turned his body towards you.

“I’ve been fucking with them lately. Seems to speak to my soul. Got a tape of theirs that we could throw on.” you choke out after another hit.

He lit up. You weren’t shutting them out. “Yeah, yeah! We can- we can put it on. We’ll raincheck our Clash listening party. What’s your favorite song by them? Is it included on the tape?” Jonathan has only had a few hits, but he isn’t going to call you out for stealing the joint. He isn’t going to risk you shutting in again. You’re smiling again- it looks genuine to him. You’re working through the pain- not hiding.

You hum and take another hit before handing him the joint. When your fingertips meet, you peer over to him. He looks so happy and proud. So glad that you’re engaging. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shift your focus back to the dark expanse of the sky.

“Yeah, it’s called 'I Don't Believe in Love’”, you confidently state.

#eddie munson imagines #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie munson x heartbroken!reader #eddie munson x yn #stranger things fic #camp halfwit bulletin post #counselor mythos notice #counselor mythos post #reader insert

893 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 1 year

Text

{Nose Kisses}

Program: Eddie's not as scary as everyone thinks. Actually, he's as terrifying as a doe. He can't help but feel a little shy when you show your interest after a Corroded Coffin show.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Length: 987w

Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and bar fights. Compliments (Gorgeous and Dazzling). Couple of swears.

Counselor Notes: Thank you dear @staygoldwriting for the lil ask! I really just wanted some sweet boy Eddie, and I was all smiley when writing it.

Eddie Munson is as courageous as a mouse in a suit of armor. His acts of bravado often cause people to spare him a startled glance. Van speakers booming with Dio as he cruises to the Hideaway. A patch jacket that seems to sag under its new additions after a weekly music shop visit.

Eddie Munson speaks so loud and commands a room with outcast authority just to avoid attention. His logic: why allow anyone the chance to make him the social circle sacrifice.

Eddie Munson feels a flame in his chest and visibly shrinks in size when he catches your electric look of adoration after a Corroded Coffin show. His fingers twist the sweaty, silver bands wrapped around them as he sneaks glances over to your friend group at the bar.

“Hey, Romeo,” Jeff snaps Eddie’s attention back to the booth, “Your turn to buy the round”. A chorus of snickers rumble across the table from Sebastian and Gareth, and Eddie flushes from his friend’s knowing looks.

“Huh,” Eddie squeaks. Sounding like a freshman in high school certainly will not help him defend himself from the onslaught of teasing brewing.

“We’re doing you a favor,” Sebastian chuckles and slides his glass across the booth. It lands with a dull clink, and it’s soon followed by two more.

“Practically doe eyed and Bambi bashful all night,” Jeff points out and starts to shift his weight. Leaning into the side of the booth bench that Eddie occupies, Jeff pushes his shoulder into Eddie’s with a sudden shove.

“Don’t go cheap on us this time, and don’t chicken out like every time,” Gareth chides as he pushes the glasses into Eddie’s waving hands.

Anyone watching the scene would think that Eddie’s headbanging to the Motley song. Frizzy, black curls flying everywhere as he shakes his head.

“Guys come one,” Eddie pleads, “I’ll cover. That’s not an issue. Just someone else grab them.”

“Sorry,” Jeff shrugs and lays down on the bench completely. He sends Eddie an upside down, lopsided grin.

“Just too tired,” Gareth yawns and slouches into his seat.

“Stuck on the inside of the booth,” Sebastian rests his arms on the table followed by his chin.

“Go get us something good, and don’t come back without a number,” the boys simultaneously shoo Eddie away.

“Assholes,” Eddie breathes under his breath while taking the glasses into his hands.

The faint sounds of their laughter blend into the rowdy drunken chatter when he turns to walk over to the bar. One final shake of his head allows Eddie to shield himself with his hair. Every bump to his body causes a flurry of butterflies to tickle his tummy. He just needs to get to the bar and back to the booth. Nothing he can’t manage.

With an anxious tremble, Eddie sets the glasses down and flags Jodie with a small salute. Eddie’s eyes flicker from bottle to bottle before meeting his reflection in the mirror behind the liquor shelf. When he notices your familiar figure standing right next to him, Eddie jumps back a little in fright. His sneaker tripping on your boot as he tries to catch himself before causing a bar fight.

“Easy there, Bambi,” your calm voice floods Eddie with ease. Your hand quickly dashes out to grab his elbow. Securely holding onto him, you help him steady himself and rub small circles into his jacket’s soft leather sleeves. “You alright?”

“Shit, yeah. I’m sorry. Jesus Christ,” Eddie starts to ramble and apologize profusely. “Wait. What did you just call me,” he sends you an incredulous look before tumbling back into his apologies.

“Bambi. Big brown eyes. A smitten smile. So shy and sweet, you can’t even look at me,” you mumble to yourself. You unconsciously start to tap your foot in thought.

An amused look graces your face as you try to catch Eddie’s gaze, but his hair keeps swaying in the way. You tug the emergency scrunchie from your wrist and take a step into Eddie’s space. A small laugh warms you when you realize Eddie is so absorbed in his words that he doesn’t notice you pressing into his chest and reaching your arms around his neck. Softly trailing your fingers at the base of his neck, you feel Eddie’s breath hitch. You gather his locks with gentle care and wrap his hair into a small bun. A hum of approval tickles your lips when you inspect your work.

“There. Now I can see those beautiful, brown eyes,” you smile at the blushing boy.

“Thanks,” Eddie squeaks.His eyes wide in shock as he finally sees you clearly and so close. Eddie can’t even think to wince before the sound of your melodious laughter relaxes the tension in his posture.

“Need another, Eddie,” Jodie calls both your attention as she sets down four replenished glasses.

Eddie’s blush burns his skin as he coughs, “No, just the four”. He hands her the money plus tip before daring to take a glance back at you. Your smile sends him into a dizzy state of glee.

“I think both our friend groups are dying to call us back, so here,” you step closer and tuck a piece of paper into his pocket. “My number. We can figure out how to get my scrunchie home another day,” you explain while looping his bandana around your finger.

Eddie doesn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was the beer from earlier. Maybe it's how gorgeous you look under the shitty spotlights. Maybe your dazzling smile finally made him crumble.

Carefully gathering the glasses between his hands, Eddie turns to you and pauses. Shifting his weight back and forth on his heels, Eddie swoops closer and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. Feather light and excitement overcomes any second guesses. Taking a step back, Eddie shoots you a bashful smile, “Sounds like a plan, Thumper”.

441 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{With or Without You, U2}

Pairing: Platonic(ish)! Steve Harrington x GN, Platonic(ish)! Reader, Best friend! Eddie Munson x Heartbroken! Reader

Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Learning to move on

Warnings: couple of swears, depictions of anxiety symptoms, mentions of depression, pet name (babe), heartbreak, trying to move on, slight jealousy, angst, unrequited love

Length: 1942w

Series Program | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Counselor Notes: Thank you so much for the love on p.1 of this! I really wasn't expecting the reaction I received, and it meant the world as I'm coming back to creative writing. Much love to each ot you campers! <3

Your nose grazes across his cheek bone. His left hand squeezes your hip as his other presses against the small of your back, pulling you as close as he can. Your chest heaves to push any and all amount of oxygen through your burning lungs. The sound of blood washes over your ears, deafening anything the sweet boy tries to say. Gasps break past your chapped lips allowing salty tears to catch on the rips and cracks.

You couldn’t do this. The pain nearly broke you that night. But this? You teeter on the edge of shattering. Pieces of you to never be found again or never truly fitting comfortably again.

Panic dulls all your senses and weighs down on your bones.

“Come on, babe. I know you can hear me, Come back to me,” Steve quietly rasps against your ear, “Please”. He dances his fingertips from the small of your back, gently pressing on the tense point against your spine, and grazes them down your arm to take your hand in his own. Bringing it to his lips, Steve locks onto your welling eyes. As soft and fleeting as a butterfly, he presses small kisses onto the pads of each of your fingertips. He then presses a tender kiss that sends sparks through the palm of your hand.

“Breathe with me. Just breathe with me- I know you can do it,” he murmurs, moving your palm to rest against his cheek. “It’s just us, babe. Just you and me”.

You break from his heavy gaze and turn your attention to the flickering stars above. So distant, yet ever present as they look down on you.

Feeling like you were pushing through water, you move your hand from Steve’s hold and place it against his chest. Your entire focus shifts to the sawing breaths as you try to match with Steve’s collected ones. Pants and tiny sniffles echo in the parking lot, muffling the giggles and chatter of groups as they enter the roller rink.

“That’s it, babe. Take your time, “Steve murmurs again, pressing himself closer. His heart pounding against your palm despite keeping a steady, deep breath. “I’m here- I’ll catch you. Come back to me. Please?”

You may have his heart in the palm of your hand, but he grounds you to reality. A month of settling back into the mundane Hawkins routine had become what felt like an eternity of social isolation. Every phone call to the trailer park was answered by a giggling school boy apologizing and promising another time to hang out, or the sound of a concerned uncle asking if you were okay only to flood you with more tears. Group plans fell through in favor of couples pairing off on their own, or the kids hiding in the Byler’s basement to plan their own summer campaign. Except Steve. Steve never left you.

He dragged you out of bed after two days of radio silence from that first hang out of the season. After a week of stale air sitting in your room and clothes moving from unpacked suitcases to piles on the floor, he just about threw you into the shower, so he could tidy up your safe haven. So he could make you feel welcomed in your own home.

The two of you had countless arguments spanning over the course of the month as Steve tried to bring you back to the land of the living. You yelled and protested, tooth and nail, to stay in your catatonic safety net. If you didn’t leave its walls, then you wouldn’t drown from the unyielding flood of heartbreak. Even through all the stinging sobs, hair pulling deflections, and hoarse pleads, Steve stayed by your side.

He wasn’t leaving until he got his friend and right hand comrade back- doing what everyone else seemingly had no time to do. To share and enjoy in your missed company.

“Hey,” he gently taps his finger tips against your jaw bone. A flurry of tingles linger under your skin. “I know they’re beautiful, and I can see you mapping your story in the stars- but could I see those stunning eyes again? I miss getting lost in them”. He softly cranes his neck to try to regain your attention.

Slowly, you stop searching for your answers in the stars only for time to all but freeze when you meet the radiant hues of sunshine, twinkling from the moonlight, in Steve’s umber eyes. His smile beams when the pair of you reconnect, and he takes you in for a moment. “You got this. And,” he holds your wrist to send a comforting squeeze, “I’m right there beside you”.

He steps back a bit, still gently holding your hip as he points towards the entrance to the rink. “We are going to walk in there, heads held high,” he steadily grows in enthusiastic volume, “and we are going to have the time of our lives making fools out of ourselves.”

An astonished laugh pushes past your sealed lips as you look at him in disbelief. Steve is all for pep talks and motivational speeches, but one without an air of royal confidence? He might just be spiraling as hard as you at this rate. “You can’t be fucking serious right now. The love of-” your voice rising so your defense can be heard.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he jumps back, holding his hands out to stop you. Not even realizing, you stumble to take a step and follow. A smile creeps past your guard and breaks across your face. What the actual hell has gotten into him?

Steve excitably points at you in uncontrollable joy, “Yes! There! Just like that”. Rushing back, he grabs your arms and holds you in an electric embrace.

Like two magnets, neither of you can fight the connection pulling you together. As far as either of you are concerned, it’s only the two of you on Earth. No one else around. No else to break your bond.

Resting his forehead against your own, Steve breathes out, “It’s just you and me, babe. It’s just us- no pressure to look good or to fake it. It’s your time to let go and enjoy yourself”.

A heavy ache forms in your chest when Steve moves away and holds out an outstretched hand. Dizzy from the whirlwind of emotions and slightly high from the warmth he left buzzing where he held you, your stomach plummets at the invitation to the next stage of heartbreak.

Shakily pushing out a breath, your peer up from his hand and nearly take a step back from Steve’s beaming expression of encouragement.

“ ‘S just us?” you whisper.

“You and me- against all this bullshit ‘young love,’” he boasts.

Bouncing on your toes, you nod in determination as you grab Steve’s hand and run into the unknown. The two of you wildly laugh while pushing and pulling at each other. Not a care in the world about how others see you. It’s just you and him.

The two of you dash and stumble into the rink, entangled in each other’s hold. The pair of you can barely collect yourselves from the fit of laughter and childlike joy you’ve fostered.

Only for your secret world to be breached. “Guys, over here! Christsake, what made you this late?” With Johnathan’s joking welcome notice, the sounds of the roller rink break the spell wrapped around the two of you. The scraping of skates, beating music, and flashing lights make you wince.

Not letting go of your gaze, Steve calls back, “Be there in a sec- gotta finish this conversation real quick”.

Steve squeezes your hand, “So what’s it gonna be, babe? Lousy, overhyped ‘young love’? Or the time of your life with this catch?” He chuckles and points to himself.

Enthralled by the guy holding you, no one else could win your attention in that moment. There is no other competition. It’s just Steve. And, maybe Steve is onto something? For fuckssake, Steve has been there since the moment all meaning left your life. Yet, a guy this caring still hasn’t met someone who can see past the social crown atop his head. Even if it didn’t shine as bright as it once did, that’s all people would note when complimenting him.

He meets your stare with a look of teasing inquiry. How much longer can you put your life on pause for a man, no a fool, who doesn’t even spare you a second thought now.

“Come on,” Steve tilts his head to the side with a playful smirk, “I know I’m good looking, but at this rate you might as well buy a guy dinner first”. He waggles his eyebrows.

Gagging as you push him away, you turn to see the table your friends sit at. Eddie securely wraps his arm around Chrissy’s shoulder on one side, and the back of Nancy and Johnathan’s heads lean against each other across from them. One chair at either end of the booth.

Pin pricks building in your waterline, you whip back to look at Steve. “Fuck, ‘young love,’” you huff and make your way over. Steve falls in step right beside you- his proud presence fills the once empty spot of another’s. He fist bumps the air spreading his excited energy to you and overpowers the nervous one beginning to fester through the tips of your toes to the crown of your head.

Taking a seat at the head of the table and between the couples, both of you greet them kindly. Nothing like the giddiness bouncing between the two of you.

“The hell man?” Steve whines, “Where am I supposed to sit, huh?” He quickly steals a vacant chair from the next table over and seats himself between yourself and heartbreak. Settling himself in the tight squeeze, Steve shoots you a wink before sitting upright.

“So what took so long for you two to grace us with your presence? Did big boy over here need to fix his hair?” Eddie jests, easily sending the table into a fit of giggles.

Before Steve can protest, you rush to defend him. The nervous adrenaline rush coursing through you pushes you over the edge at long last. “No, actually,” you let out an anxious, airy chuckle. “There was a song that I really wanted to share- listen to, so we just got caught up in our own little world for a bit”. You smile softly at Steve’s own- noting how it grows into a sincere one. Not the stage performance either of you use to hide behind around everyone as of late.

Eddie stiffens at your response. He’s the person you share music with. The hell happened to that? Eyes darting between your fidgeting figure and Steve’s confident, relaxed posture, Eddie chews on his bottom lip. Watching Harrington casually drape an arm on the back of your chair.

A shock of electricity strikes your shoulder and spreads like a wildfire through your body when Steve brushes his hand across your shoulders to readjust his position. “Yeah, it was out of my usual taste, but I really enjoyed it. What was the name again?” he hums.

Barely even registering Eddie’s scoff, you blink and try to break from Steve’s comforting pull. You grip the edge of your seat, recentering around the cold, solid metal biting into your palms.

Still feeling Steve’s intense gaze, you look around the table practically buzzing. Taking a deep breath as you subtly poke Steve’s thigh, and he pushes it against your own. It’s just you and him.

“‘With or Without You’ by U2,” you nervously share.

650 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Pictures of You, The Cure}

Pairing: Best friend! Eddie Munson x GN, Heartbroken! Reader, Platonic(ish)! Steve Harrington x GN, Platonic(ish)! Reader

Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Learning to move on

Warnings: couple of swears, pet name (babe, dove, missus referring to Chrissy), references to weed, allusions to sex (nothing graphic), heartbreak, trying to move on, slight jealousy, angst, unrequited love

Length: 2316w

Series Program | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Counselor Notes: Again, thank you so much for the love on the last two parts! <3 I think there's going to be one more part as the finale, and it's probably going to hurt.

Camper List: @girlsvvish @darklingbrekksov @couseland @thoughtfulsweetsharmony

The familiar engine hum and musky scent of lingering THC and nicotine should have welcomed you as you sank into the beat-in passenger seat. Instead, the cacophony of wistful scents now clash with an unbearable ring that vibrates through your skull. Swallowing deep breaths to hold yourself together, the heavy aromas sneak into your system and longing squeezes your airway.

Your lost home on the road, once littered with cigarette buds and cassette cases, now proudly brandishes a green ribbon tied on the rear view window. A varsity cardigan hastily thrown into the back seat when Eddie picked you up that afternoon.

You fidget and sink deeper into the seat, wishing it would swallow you whole and spit you back into the safety of your home, as you take in the new addition to the van. Eyes focusing on your fingers wringing together in your lap, bouncing to his knuckles rapping on the steering wheel, and landing on a polaroid of the future you pined for.

A photo of a young woman, wearing the iconic devil baseball tee, lays on Eddie’s bed and holds his Warlock guitar. You used to dream for the day he would use it to serenade you. Securely tucked onto the main dashboard, it solidifies your place in Eddie’s life.

You pull your gaze away to watch the blurring tree line outside the side window and rapidly bat the runaway tears trying to escape their confinement. He really didn’t have a clue, did he? Or maybe he’s just cruel enough to ignore your pain to hold onto the fading memories of a best friend.

Scoffing at the sudden remembrance of all the promises to hang out, you quickly cover up your contempt with a cough.

“You okay? Got some water in the back seat if you need it,” Eddie reaches behind your seat with one hand on the wheel.

You roll your eyes and grasp his arm with little emotion to stop him. “I’m fine, Eddie. Just some dust,” you pause and send him a slight shit eating grin, “Or maybe it’s the fact you never air out this goddamn van. Nearly got hit with a wall of your stench.”

He barks out a laugh and moves his arm out of your grasp to point at you, “Don’t talk about her like that. You know you love her just as much as I do- hell, I even remember saving you from close calls with curfew when you lost track of time at parties.” Eddie playfully slaps your thigh, leaving a faded fuzz in its spot when he puts his hand back to the wheel.

“Yeah, sure,” you wince at how hoarse your voice sounds. Gulping, you try to even out your speech, “I swear I’m being fucking hot boxed from just the accumulated smell of weed.”

Pulling into the turn off for Lovers Lake and parking the van so the back faces the water, Eddie squints at you in dramatic thought. Comically sniffing the air and then pulling his jacket up to his nose, he pauses and slowly turns to look at you. Eddie moves slightly out of his seat and over the center console to invade your space. Tucking his head against the base of your neck, everything stops for a moment. His curls burn with their soft tickles against the column of your throat. The long missed proximity jumps your heart into a frenzy. Oxygen stops as it concentrates in your lungs to feed the fire rushing in your veins. His deep, warm gaze connects with your wide eyes.

“I think it’s just your rank attitude, dove,” he jokes.

The light headed buzz bursts with the flick of his finger hitting your forehead.

Your jaw drops as you watch Eddie climb out of the van and close the door without a second glance. Fumbling with the latch, hot waves of anger wash over your body. He better have something to numb every ounce of pain he’s caused, whether unintentional or not. Nearly falling out of the van, you march to the back and open your mouth ready to unleash hell.

Whirling the corner, all words dissolve on your tongue and leave a melancholy taste.

Eddie sits on the back ledge, bundled in the blanket the two of you used to build sleepover forts. Next to him, a cooler packed with each of your favorite drinks and snacks.

Eddie watches in giddy excitement as you recognize each piece of his surprise. The polaroid camera you gifted him after Corroded Coffin’s first gig sits in his lap. Opening the blanket bundle, Eddie invites you to join him, “We got a lot to catch up on, huh?”

A searing nervous glee stings as it concentrates on your lash line. You stumble into the embrace you long yearned for and shake your head. “I’ll let your little attitude comment slide. But, only because you got the watermelon ring pops.”

With ease, the two of you settle into lost routine and share stories of the past few months. The scowl scarring your face slowly smoothes into a sincere smile.

Your grin grows as Eddie animatedly recalls how Gareth managed to get stuck on top of a wire fence when they were on the run from a busted house party.

Laughter dances with the descending sun. A staged gasp slips past your aching lips as Eddie reenacts the final moments of the club member’s characters against Vecna.

The tension locked across your shoulders snaps when you throw a nerd for your friend to catch. With the dull collision of his head against the van’s wall, watching as the candy bounce off Eddie’s chuckling form, your heart fills with childlike joy.

Searing flashes blind you from noticing darkening sky and the pom poms tucked behind the back seat. The whirligig gears grind along with shared giggles. Terrible selfie attempts with half a face missing and secret candids piles between the reunited friends.

Whispers sing with the cricket symphony as you and Eddie point out the constellations hanging above. His arm outstretched behind you, so he can hold himself up and direct you to the new one he learned. The scent of worn leather and cinnamon cloud your mind.

You can’t help that Eddie holds your attention better than the unforgiving night sky. The deep hum of his sleepy voice depicts far more happy stories than what the stars have in store for you.

Stopping mid sentence, Eddie looks to the owner of the fervent gaze bruning into the side of his face. Catching you mid-stare, an amused smile forms across his expression as you jump a little. If he can distract you from whatever is causing you so much turmoil, then he’s happy to steal you away from reality for a bit. Pushing onto the forest ground, he stretches to release the growing ache settling in his arms and ruffle his hair to help him wake up.

Unable to stop your eyes from following the rise of Eddie’s band tee, you can’t look away from the faded scratch marks spanning the expanse of his lower muscles. Written declarations of commitment and adoration to a lover that would never be you.

Breaking your gaze and shuffling through the photos laying in your lap, tears silently stream down the side of your face and slip onto the smiling Eddie staring up at you.

“Ready to head back, dove? I gotta get back to the missus- promised we would watch a movie tonight,” Eddie calls from the front seat. The sappy tone of admiration slaps you back to reality.

You slowly push away the lukewarm blanket and place the polaroids on top. Not taking a single one. “Yeah, just making sure we got everything,” your airy response wavers.

Lumbering into the passenger seat, the engine’s hum comes to life as well as the numbness resting in your bones as Eddie shares his date night plans. His rambling, that you once adored, now scratches the back of your mind like nails on a chalkboard. Originally feeling slightly guilty, you now feel grateful for making your own movie night plans.

As he pulls into your driveway, the distinct pang of jealousy flares in Eddie’s chest as the sight of a well known burgundy BMW. Swallowing the bile lump solidifying in his throat, he turns to face you to inquire why Harrington’s car is here. A cold freeze halts his actions when Eddie witnesses you wiping your eyes and withholding sniffles.

The coolness of hard, metal rings sizzles against your flaming cheeks. Softly, your watery, defeated expression is forced to meet the concerned gaze of your best friend. Eddie gently rubs his thumb against your puffy face, “Hey, what happened, dove? I thought we had a good time. A nice walk down memory lane.”

A sob racks through your crumbling form, and you weakly push Eddie’s hand away. You can catch your own tears. He doesn’t get to wipe away the tears he caused.

With a wobbling smile, you release a wispy chuckle, “That’s exactly it, Munson. I just really miss you.”

Eddie leans his forehead against your own, constricting your lungs at the closeness. “Dove,” he calmly cooes, “I’ve missed you too. So much- you have no idea.”

Another broken sob escapes from your sealed lips, and you force out a light laugh to follow. If he really doesn’t know what he’s doing to you, then you won’t let him in. As Eddie reaches out to hold you again, you turn away noticing the porch light flash before the van. Like a moth to a flame, a relieved breath frees itself from your aching lungs. Steve’s tense stance leans against the porch pillar.

Meeting Eddie’s strained expression, “Thanks for today. I miss hearing from you.” You wrap your trembling arms around his neck for a quick hug.

Eddie tightly holds you as close as he can. An unnerving sense of anxiety shoots through him. Every shaky breath that slips from you hits hard against him. The trembling fingers pressing into his neck pierce through his heart. What happened to you? When did the inseparable duo refer to you and Harrington rather than the pair of you?

“We have all the time in the world now. We’ll get through this together, yeah? It’s you and me, dove. Whatever you need, I’m just a phone call away, and I’ll be on my way in a heartbeat,” Eddie promises.

“Thanks, Munson,” you whimper, “You have no idea what that means to hear you say that.”

With a final hug of the evening, you clamber out of the van and hurriedly walk to your awaiting home.

Dragging yourself up the porch stairs and tripping on the slightly shorter one than the rest, Steve catches and pulls you into his safe hold. He waves back to Eddie’s van, not sparing a glance at the still parked vehicle, and tucks you under his arm. The scent of warm vanilla mixed with Earthy undertones clears the lingering hold on your mind from the uncomfortable smell of cinnamon and leather.

As Steve guides you into your house and up to your room, he lists off the movies he brought and what take out places still deliver this late. His voice desperately tries to sound collected as he watches you visibly shrink and curl into yourself.

“Babe, I’m right here,” he holds you in a tender embrace, “Please, don’t lock me out again. I’m here to catch you. I will always be here for you to come back to.”

Dazed, you nod slowly. Processing his words. Memories of identical, past situations flood your mind. Steve held you as sobs choked you after the night out at the roller rink. He’s never left. He’s still here. He’s here now.

You deeply inhale through your nose, the stinging in your chest fizzing out as you push it out your mouth. It’s just you and Steve.

“Can we get pasta and cake from Enzo’s? And watch The Lost Boys?,” you whisper.

Your voice so quiet, Steve has to lean closer to make sure he doesn’t miss your pleading request. “Yeah, of course,” he softly promises. “Want to start it now or wait for when the food gets here?”

You wade past Steve to your desk area and search for a particular cassette. “Can we listen to The Cure while we wait? I’m sorry- I haven’t asked you about your day. How was it? Any particular bad movie picks from customers? Or was it mostly just love-sick Robin rambling about Vickie?” you weakly joke.

Popping the cassette tape in the player, you turn to see Steve already laying relaxed on top of your bed comforter. Mirroring his posture, you lean against the foot rail of your bed, to be able to face him, and clutch a pillow to your chest. The warm scent of vanilla mixes with the remnants of your signature scent that you sprayed on earlier in the day.

Steve sends you a sympathetic look that turns into a weak smile as he chuckles. “Sounds perfect. I was wondering when you would hit this phase of heartbreak- I was worried I’d have to force you to listen to them when I drive you around,” he jokes. The sympathetic look shifts to a soft smile of pride when you allow for your tears to freely fall and let out a watery laugh. “Oh,” he exclaims, throwing his hands into the air. “You will not believe the argument this group had over their movie night,” his voice returning to a lively volume, “It had me and Robin in stitches by the time they left. Christsake, it was a mess. I’ll tell you about it after I call in for food.”

Reaching for the phone on the bedside table, he gently grunts, “What’s the song of the night then, DJ?”

“‘Pictures of you’,” you weakly hum.

584 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 1 year

Text

but the thot of 79s having a burlesque night??? you know during war there would be these travelling groups of singers and dancers for morale boost???

unlike usual the dance and techno beats, upbeat show music fills the club tonight. every booth overflows with troopers as the lightly shove their brothers for a better view. bar stools are reserved for COs to give them a front row seat to the show- some of the more bold men leave a small pile of credit in feont of them to watch the showstoppers bend down and shoot them a devestating wink before bending back into the dance routine. cheers, well-loving wolff calls, and hands drumming on tables send an electric energy through the air.

the mix of the troopers appreciation and buzz of show excitement makes you buzz as you twirl underneath the neon lights. tiny gemstones catch the light and exentuate your body movements in time with the rhythm. carefully strutting past the pint glasses and resting arms, you dance further to the end of the bar as the other performers move to let everyone get a glimpse.

you bat your eyelashes as you survey the new group of troopers. yet your gaze falls on three men sitting directly in front of you. each lean back in their seat, resting their drinks on the top of their armored thighs, as they meet your gaze with expressions of awestruck, attraction. dipping lower onto the table, you make out chipped yellow, blue, and gray paint that devorate their plastoid. twirling back up right, you land the final pose in time with your company and recieve thunderous applause, whistles, and cheers. when the lights flare and flood the room, you see that the clone in orange has a hooked scar on the left side of his temple, the man in the middle has a blonde buzz cut, and the third has a cybernetic eye. each man looks up at you with pride and adoration.

two of the clones offer their hands to help you off the bar. the other lightly rests his hand on your waist to stablize you once on the floor again. with a grateful smile you look each of them over and you heart pounds from their fleeting touches.

you join the rest of the show company to the make shift dressing room in one of the upper floor spare rooms and ler out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding once sat at your station. everyone’s buzzing and dying to join the boys downstairs once more for some dancing and chats. yet the molten gold gazes of the three men burn in the back of your memory as you try to relax and change into your club outfit. until one of the managers calls your name and places three roses onto your table with a water bottle and note. “compliments from the CO section,” she says with a excited smile.

you open the note and bite your nail to try to stop the growing smile forming on your face.

Thank you for show, mesh’la. Care to join us for an encore and drinks?

- Commander Cody of the 212th

- Commander Wolffe of the 104th

- Captain Rex of the 501st

quickly fixing yourself up and spritzing your signature fragrance, you dart out the door with shouts of encouragement behind you. weaving through the mass of club goers, some troopers stop to compliment you and thank you. some very confident who beam when you laugh in appreciation while some are flustered just by a flash of your smile. after chatting with one trooper for a few moments, a hand trails across your lower back and rests at the small.

“Don’t mean to cut this short, Fives, but I’m afraid they’re spoken for already,” Rex shoots you a small smile before nodding to his brother. his hand slips to your waist and gives you a tight squeeze while the two of you move away. he pulls you close to his side and one of your hands falls to rest where his compression top tucks into his utility belt. “Can’t let anyone else try to steal you away,” Rex explains with a devestating smirk tugging at his lips. you feel a wave of dizziness build the longer his hand rests on you.

Guiding you to a table on the raise level, you catch sight of Cody and Wolffe in a casual conversation. but the moment Wolffe sees you, his expression melts into ease. Cody’s gaze follows and the tip of mouth quirks into a soft smile as he get up to let you into the middle of the booth.

“There they are- Courescant’s star,” Cody says and rests his arm on the back of the booth behind you. his leg grazes against yours as he leans back into the seat. “Absolutely breathtaking,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as he takes you in. his golden eyes trail across your body and takes your breath away.

“What can we get you to drink, cy’are?” Wolffe asks. he leans forward and presses into your back. he hooks his chin on your shoulder. your cheeks blaze and you try not to squirm from the attention. his hot breath fans scross your neck and his nose trails up your jaw before he pauses at the shell of your ear. “The night’s only just beginning”.

#captain rex headcanons #commander wolffe headcanons #commander cody headcanons #the clone wars headcanons #clone wars headcanons #commander wolffe x reader #commander cody x reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex fics #commander cody fics #commander wolffe fics #clone wars fanfic #the clone wars headcanon #clone wars headcanon #the clone wars fic #clone wars fanfiction #counselor mythos post #camp halfwit bulletin post

125 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Good Times Roll, The Cars}

Program: Eddie is the type of boyfriend who will do absolutely everything for you in order to make you happy. But he's also a little shit who can't get enough of you.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Couple of swears, Eddie oogles reader, cheeky bum grab, lil make out if you can even call it that, Pet name (dove)

Length: 1137w

Counselor Notes: I hiked St. Sauveur in Acadia! Eddie would definitely grab your bum when he gets comfy with you in a relationship, and I couldn't stop thinking about that. Pictures below :)

Patches of hot sunlight break through the tree canopy and bake the bed of sheetrock. A concerto of Chickadees features a Mourning Dove’s solo. Twigs snap from little critters dashing to their homes and underneath your stumbling feet.

“Are you sure this is the right way, Eddie?” you pant. Beads of sweat trail down your temple and trickle onto your tongue leaving a salty taste.

“Course I do! I told you that I would handle planning this vacation,” he calls back in confidence. Eddie’s figure always somewhere in your line of sight.

An amused chuckle pushes past your dry lips while watching your boyfriend dancing between trees. This whole hike, Eddie wouldn’t share your target location, but his excitement bounces as he skips over roots and quickly scales boulder formations. He looks so at home in the lush pine forest, your woodland prince.

Turning to face you and shielding her eyes, Eddie’s throat dries at the sight of your glowing figure. Unabashedly, his eyes trail down your body following the droplets of sweat glide across your skin. He wets his lips and bites his tongue. Lost in his thoughts, Eddie can’t help but let his mind wander. How you would react if he stole a little taste.

The sudden sound of a cleared throat startles him out of his daze. His heart racing and slightly flushed, Eddie’s slightly guilty eyes meet your teasing gaze. Chuckling, he presses an apologetic peck to your cheek while uncomfortably adjusting the cooler backpack strap.

“Just up these rocks and we’re there. How about I help you up?” Eddie winks. A dramatic flourish of his arms and bow invites you to take the lead.

“Why do I get the sense that you’re up to no good, Munson,” you mumble, keeping a wary eye on him.

Eddie gasps, “How dare you question my integrity?”

“Oh, very easily,” you throw back while grasping onto the first notch in the rock, “Need I remind you of the PDA ban instilled back in Hawkins?” A searing heat hits your ankle from the jarring angle it twists.

“I don’t get the big deal,” Eddie’ voice much closer than a second ago. “If I want to show my love and affection, I should be able to. Not my fault Harrington’s hurt that he can only look but not touch”. His hands firmly grasp the back of your thigh when he notices your ankle jerk from the loose rock.

You snap your head to look back at him shooting a suspicious stare. “The hell about Steve? And, careful with those,” you warn.

A mischievous spirit hums through Eddie as he responds with his sweetheart smile, “Get your mind out of the gutter and get climbing, dove”.

Slowly turning away from Eddie’s foux-innocent look, you refocus on the boulders blocking your way.

Before you can even move your hand, two quick squeezes to your bum shoot a surprised jolt through you. A tiny squeal squeaks itself free from your lips. Whipping your head around to peer at Eddie’s crouched form, hunched in uncontrollable laughter. “You little shit,” you hiss, “This is exactly why that ban is in place around our friends!” Giggles soon tickle your chest and betray your serious glower, “Telling me to get my mind out of the gutter when you steal cheeky grabs and pulling me into closets”.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes and raises his hands in mock surrender, “Fuck, I’m sorry”. Eddie tries to catch his breath and provide some relief to his burning lungs. Tears stream down his face mixing with sweat as he wipes his eye, “But I’m really not. I’m obsessed with you, dove. Just want to keep you in my arms all day”.

“Your sweet words reek with testosterone,” you shake your head and pull yourself further up the boulder. Fingertips searing with pain from holding onto the ledge for so long. Your knees wobble in relief from the release of pressure. So close, nearly there.

“There you go, dove. Just a little further, and then you’ll see why I suggested this hell trail,” Eddie pushes your leg up and over the top. Giddiness bubbles inside him as you reach the summit. All the late nights planning. The little bickers loading the car. All worth it for your happiness.

Awes washes over you, head to toe, while you take in the mountain top view. “Holy shit, Eddie,” you breathe out. You watch the tiny sailboats float on top of the vass ocean harbor with little wakes trailing after the motorboats. The tall pine trees frame the scenic picture and share their well hidden secret.

An arm wraps itself around your waist, a welcoming warmth tingles through you as Eddie pulls you close. His other hand presses a cool can of beer to the back of your neck. “I was really hoping you would like it after all the death valleys and ass cliff climbs we did to get here,” he mumbles into your hair. “Told ya, I knew where I was leading us,” he jokes with a final kiss to your crown. Taking your hand, Eddie walks over to the cliff side, and he shrugs off the cooler and grabs a beer for himself, putting it off to the side. With cautious ease, seats himself on the ledge and safely guides you to join his side.

As one arm secures you to his side, the other reaches for his beer. The crack of metal and hiss of carbonation already make it feel as if the temperature has dropped a few degrees. “To our first couple’s vacation,” Eddie cheers.

“And to many more to come,” you promise, clinking your can against his. Your shared laughter mixes with the refreshing reward of cheap beer.

Stealing a kiss, the savory taste of beer and his tender touch make you dizzy. Nipping at his lip, the vibration and sound of his groans cause your heart to race. You press yourself further into his embrace and relish in how he so easily pulls you closer. Pulling away, you press rapid pecks to his smiling lips. “Thank you, honey. This is amazing,” you lean your head on his shoulder, feeling how heavy his breath has slightly become.

“Anything for you, you know that,” Eddie takes another sip of beer trying to wash away the growing need beginning to burn in his stomach.

A lone drop of beer dangles from the corner of his mouth that catches your attention from the corner of your eye. As you press yourself even closer, you feel Eddie’s breath hitch. Licking away the teasing, amber droplet, you laugh darkly from how still Eddie’s become. You settle back into his hold and take in the gorgeous view while Eddie tries to remember how to function once more.

The PDA ban wasn’t just Eddie’s fault.

365 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 11 months

Text

{Who's The Coward Now}

Program: Even though the medic somehow always finds a way to get under your skin, you hold a deep respect for Kix. That may have begun to turn into something more than a professional admiration. Until it shatters after an argument that continues onto the battlefield. Heated words are exchanged, but you'd rather hear him yelling at you than the radio silence that answers when you try to call him.

Pairing: Medic Kix x Support Agent, GN! Reader

Genre: Angst

Length: 3967w

Warnings: Reader and Kix say pretty hurtful things to each other because they care about each other type of deal, Battle scene, Medical scene, Couple of swears (as usual lmao)

Camp Resolute Masterlist

Counselor Notes: Thank you to @wizardofrozz for your help on this as a thought partner. It was so helpful & @obixwan, I hope you enjoy! Not too sure how I feel about this one tbh, but I am pretty happy with it.

“You have to be more careful,” Kix reprimands you. Though his hands carefully hold your head, he can’t control the anger burning through his veins. With one hand still holding your head, he tosses the blood soaked gauze and quickly takes another from his medical table. Pressing the fresh swab onto the cut on your forehead, Kix hesitates when you wince. His gaze softens momentarily and mumbles an apology.

“We all have a job to do, Kix,” you hoarsely explain, “I wasn’t about to sit on the side lines as our friends took their last breath”.

Kix pauses after placing a plaster on the small wound and looks away from it to meet your serious expression with one of disbelief. “We all have a job to do, but it doesn’t mean we have to sacrifice ourselves for nothing”.

“For nothing,” you exclaim and push his caring hands away.

His careless words cause your blood to boil as you look at him incredulously. In any other situation your stomach would have fluttered from his cute, wide eyed expression. Instead, knots twist your stomach as bile builds in the back of your throat.

“I would lay down my life without second thought to keep you and your family safe, Kix,” your voice breaks. “You and your brothers mean so much. Not just to each other, or to me, but to countless people across the galaxy. You have to understand that”.

You reach out with a shaky hand to try to hold onto him, but Kix ducks his head and steps away from you.

His weak voice murmurs your name before he says barely above a whisper, “We are nothing, but a surplus of pawns”.

Kix darts his tongue across his lip and swallows the lump forming in his throat. Everything feels numb and too much all at once. Pin pricks sting his skin. The fluorescent lights cause a dull ache to pound against his head. His heart shatters, and the pieces slash him from the inside.

With a shaky breath, Kix turns away from you and begins to clean his medical table. “When one of us dies, one thousand more run onto the battlefield to replace us. Clones are nothing, but cogs in the Republic’s machine. You have to understand that. There is no reason for you to risk your life for one of us when there are a million of me,” Kix explains and pulls his gaze from the bloody scraps that stain his fingers to look over at you.

Your heart pluments, and you open your mouth to try to reason with him. His raised hand and defeated smile silences you. “There is only one of you in this galaxy. I have no control over my life, or even how I die. The semblance of control I have is by helping my brothers and civvies when they need aid,” Kix’s voice subtly shakes as his eyes scan over your bandaged wound, “Do not put your life at risk for some clone”. Bile builds in the back of his throat as the memory of an assassin droid jumping at you and nearly cutting your life short. Just another reason he owes Jesse his life.

Your eyes sting as you look at the man who stands before you, completely unrecognizable in front of the one who has slowly been stealing your heart much to your dismay. Instead of the teasing, know it all of a medic, you see a man hiding behind the mask of his fallen brothers. “You are so wrong,” you firmly breath out. “And if you can't realize how much you--or your brothers-- have to offer the galaxy for just existing as individuals, then you’re truly pathetic,” you spit out.

As if your words cut him, Kix staggers a step backwards. Your steely gaze freezes him in place as you stand up from the cot. “Not because you are a clone,” you continue with a growing fire in your voice, “Because you are a coward of a man who would rather fall into society’s place and play the victim. I hear your lies, and I see right through you, Kix. You are afraid of what happens next after the war, so you’re pushing me away. You’re isolating yourself to put the blame on yourself and the situation rather than trying to make the best of it and make a difference”.

Kix clutches the edge of the cold durasteel table. Your words tear down the reality he’s tried to come to terms with. His head spins as his lungs seem to be weighed down as he desperately tries to breathe. He opens his mouth to try to … explain himself? No, that doesn’t seem right. But there’s nothing to defend, right?

“If you’re even thinking about trying to convince me that you’re right in this situation,” your voice trembles with anger, “I am walking out that door”. There’s a beat of silence as the two of you look at each other. Even with the ventilation fan whirring in the background, the air hangs heavy in a thick blanket. Kix turns his back to you to continue cleaning his workstation.

Without second thought, you turn on your heel and walk swiftly out of the medbay. A blistering heat washes over you, and only once weaving through the starship’s corridors do you feel like you can breathe again.

Fog consumes the battlefield, and the tense atmosphere weighs down on your shoulders. You peer around the boulder you’ve taken shelter behind. Blaster bolts cut through the thick blanket of mist. Surveying the area, your eyes widen when a red beam shoots toward you. With your heart pounding in your throat, you throw yourself backwards for cover once more. A flurry of embers kiss the arm you use to block the scorching rock fragments and debris flying around you from the blast.

“We need you to infiltrate the ray shields three klicks North of your position,” General Skywalker’s voice crackles through your comlink. Echoes of reflected blaster bolts and battalion commands blend in disharmony behind his tired words.

“Easier said than done,” you yell through gritted teeth. Pushing into the balls of your feet and clenching your fists, you push from your crouched position and take off across the crumbled terrain. “I can’t see a damned thing,” you relay back to the battalion as you duck away from a blitz of crossfire, “Some guidance would be helpful”.

“I can spare Kix and Jesse, but we’re not exactly in a better position than you,” Rex grunts followed by a deafening explosion.

A spear of panic pierces your pounding heart. Why does it have to be Kix? Any other clone--hell, any other 501st trooper--would be better than him.

Your feet slam into the barren wasteland as you push further into the battle. Troopers collapse all around you while clankers melt from blasters. No one is safe in this hellscape. Not man. Not machine. Not you.

You weave past the scattered soldiers, and some yell out to you in the haze.

“What are you doing?”

“Turn back now”.

“We can hold them off, fall back behind lines”.

“I told you not to do anything risky,” one voice rings clear in all the chaos. Footsteps fall in time with your own as you near the ray shields, now just ahead of you past the enemy defense.

“I’m following orders, Kix,” you wheeze. Your lungs scream for air as you duck out of the way of an onslaught of blaster shots. “Something you seem all too familiar with,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Why did you volunteer for this,” Kix hissed over his shoulder. He raises his gun to help his brother clear a path for the three of you to infiltrate the enemy’s inner lines.

With a haggard grunt, Jesse throws a shock grenade towards the surrounding droids to clear the last of the blockade. “If you haven’t noticed,” he yells, “we’re a bit preoccupied. Finish this spat when we’re in the next system, far away from this shit”.

Unable to tell if the surge of determination coursing through your veins comes from Kix’s words or the sight of possible victory, you break from the two troopers to push ahead. “I need you to flank my sides,” you say into your comlink, “we’re nearly to the center, and I’ll be able to set up the explosives. I just need you to keep the fire off of me”.

“Ten-four,” Jesse responds.

Through the roar of war, the static of your comlink rings in your ears. Filling you with dread, you hit it a few times to make sure it’s not broken.

“Kix?” you question. A gnawing pit of anxiety bubbles in your stomach when met with static. “Jesse,” you try the other channel, “Is Kix with you?”

Your skin tingles when you step through the shield barrier. Scanning the area, your eyes lock onto the target control area and power supplies. You sprint towards the control panel first, and you fumble with the protective plate before connecting the first explosive.

“What?” he asked in confusion. You hear heavy gunfire crackle through mixed with the trooper’s strained breathing. “No,” Jesse pushes out, “Saw him break off to your West when you gave the command. East generator is cleared”.

Each step you take to the East power supply is met with no resistance. With just a few strides, you reach the generator and connect the explosive to its side. Shifting your weight, you push off and run to the West generator. As blasters and explosive shells ring in your ears, your heart pounds. Prickles of fear sting your skin. He has to be there.

“Right behind you,” Jesse shouts, “Heard anything from Kix?”

“Radio silence,” you yell over your shoulder. When you face forward again, the fog billows and folds over itself as some of the enemy land cruisers shoot off into the distance. This could be it. At the thought of reaching the last moments of battle, you attach the last explosive and grab the detonator from your utility belt. Jesse stands tall as he shoots down any stray droid emerging from the shield barrier. With a click, you sync the charges and motion Jesse to move out.

“Kix, meet at the West cliff cave. The charges are set and prepped,” you shout into your comlink over the battle’s cacophony. Once again, only static hums in response. You shoot Jesse a look of confusion. Your com channels work fine, even with the frequency interference, so why was Kix suddenly unreachable? Is he really that petty to ignore com calls after our last conversation? You scoff and duck behind one of the boulder stacks inside the cave. Your heart pounds against its cage as you look over to Jesse on the other side.

“Have you gotten through to that idiot,” you shout with a shaky voice.

Jesse taps the side of his bucket a few times. “No,” his words slowly come out as he thinks, “But those droids will be getting close to the charges by now. I don’t think we can spare him anymore time”.

“What if he gets caught in the blast? We have to wait for him,” your response tumbles without thought from your chapped lips.

“We have a job to do,” Jesse reminds you as he tilts his head. “Kix is smart. He knows about the charges, and he won’t do something reckless”.

You bite your lip and look at the detonator in your hand. A cold wave of uncertainty wash over you that stings your skin with the scorching blood coursing through your veins.

“Why are you hesitating? Set them off now, or we’ll all be in trouble,” Jesse yells. Panic pushes past his usually cool demeanor.

Your thumb presses down on the small button, and you shut your eyes as a deafening whirlwind overcomes the chaos. A powerful gust of wind pushes through the cave’s entry way bringing flames and debris with it. The heat swelters around you and constricts your lungs. Sweat drips across your skin. You try to steady your haggard breathing, but the smoke lingering in the air burns the inside of you with each inhale.

“Status report,” a static voice faintly calls out. Its location seems to bounce through the cave, and you can barely register it above the ringing in your ears.

“Jesse,” you call out. A cough accompanies your hoarse voice. Slowly rising to a standing position, you lean against the wall to your side. The world sways underneath your feet, which only makes your head spin harder.

“Over here,” a similar voice coughs from where you last saw your squad mate. “You alright?”

Your comlink chirps, and you carefully nod your head. “Probably. You?”

“Been through worse”. Without warning, a beam of light breaks through the smoke and fog settling around the two of you. “We’re alright, Rex,” Jesse explains through the shared channel. “Lost Kix though when we broke off to clear the surrounding area near the generators”.

“We’ll keep an eye out for him, but he’s probably already at the temp medbay. Hurry over and get checked out. We’re trying to evac ASAP. This place is making everyone uneasy, and it’s time for well deserved R-and-R”.

Your stomach lurches with your first step away from the wall. As your heart plummets, the sense of uncertainty freezes into dread, and your knees buckle. Rex didn’t know where Kix was?

“Hey- hey,” Jesse shouts your name and rushes over to you. Just as you’re about to sink into the ground, his arms catch you and hold you up. “Kriffssake, you look like you’ve just seen a ghost”.

“I need to find Kix,” you say in a rush. Everything feels sharp to the touch as you try to pull yourself away from Jesse. “Something's not right. We need to find him”.

Jesse’s arms tighten around you as he guides your struggling form out of the hiding spot into the remnants of the battlefield. “What’s gotten into you,” he huffs. “The two of you were just arguing in the middle of an onslaught of blasterfire, and now you’re worried about him?”

An unexplainable instinct urges you to try to fight out of Jesse’s hold, but your aching muscles only want to sink into his arms. Kix may be insufferable, but he follows orders. Regardless of who gives them. “Jesse, I’m telling you- there’s something wrong. Kix isn’t okay”.

“Even if he isn’t okay-which he’s not- why do you care so much all of the sudden?” Jesse prods as he pushes you past the rubble and heaps of scrap metal.

“I’ve always cared,” you nearly shout in frustration. Your body screams in pain as you continue to shift and throw your weight to break free. Even when the ARC trooper’s hold softens, he still keeps you from running off in search of…him. What is Kix exactly? A crush is too childish for the deep respect and admiration you hold for the medic. Friend is nowhere close to describing your teasing and heated relationship. The only word that comes to mind to describe the man -- who has soft, inviting eyes and a smirk you just want to wipe away with a kiss -- would be lover. An agonized groan rumbles in your chest as you fling your body weight completely forward. “You’re not listening,” you practically scream.

“Enough,” Jesse shouts and pulls you tight into his chest as the pair of you walk through the beginnings of the Republic camp. The plastoid armor digs into your back and knocks the wind out of your chest. “Coric,” he shouts, “need you check this one out. We took in a lot of smoke and might have some minor burns”. Stares from just about everyone in the camp lock onto the two of you. A tangle of collected calmness and frantic fighting.

Before Coric can even ask what happened, you beat him to the first word: “Where’s Kix?” Nausea rocks your stomach as Coric takes you in with a careful look.

“Wasn’t he with you,” he slowly inquires. A crease of confusion digs across his forehead as his gaze flickers between you and Jesse.

At his words, you feel Jesse simultaneously lock up and loosen his grip on you. With weak knees suddenly trying to support you, you almost wish he would hold you tighter with the news. Silence settles between the three of you with an unspoken understanding. Kix never reported for medical duty. Neither his commanding officer or his medical chief knew where he was.

“Think you can hold on a little longer,” Jesse nervously asks, looking at you.

“Didn’t even want to be here in the first place. We need to find Rex and the general,” you reply and nod.

Jesse wraps one arm around you to support you and pushes the two of you to walk faster. Dust clouds kick at your heels with each determined step. You’re going to find Kix, bring him home, and give him hell for everything he’s put you through.

Maneuvering through the aisles of cots and further into the camp, you see Rex and Anakin stand around a makeshift command table. Datapads and a small hologram console crowd the table as the two men speak in tense, hushed tones. Both wear a grave expression that does nothing to hide their concern.

“Rex,” both you and Jesse call out in a rush. Feeling the subtle tremors shifting his armor, you wrap your arm around Jesse to pull him into your side. Both of you lean into each other. Ragged breaths rise and fall from your aching chests. The two of you hold each other up as the commanding officers face you and take a sharp inhale. A choked sound of protest tears at your throat.

“Rex,” Jesse tries again. Anger flares underneath his skin and continues to stoke his anxiety when his ori’vod won’t look him in the eye. His lip curls into a snarl. “Where’s Kix?” he growls.

Jesse’s body twitches underneath your touch, and you find yourself pulling him back as he tries to take a step towards the general and captain. Holding him back, you press your feet into the ground to try to do the same for yourself.

If it comes down to it, neither of you are concerned about stopping the other from running anymore. Now in agreement that something is terribly wrong, both of you are prepared to even give the commanding officers hell if needed to find Kix. The two of you try to give the others the benefit of the doubt that whatever consequence the mission’s success brings, it has nothing to do with Kix’s absence.

General Skywalker exhales a deep breath as he turns to the holo-console. With a press of a button, shaky helmet-cam footage from the battle plays in front of you accompanied by Kix’s shouts. “Always calling the shots, huh,” Kix mutters under his breath before following with, “Copy”. Your eyes flicker from where you disappear out of sight from the holograph to the West power generator that shows up a few moments later.

“Just has to have the last word, kriffsake,” Kix mutters. His helmet scans the area as he approaches the West generator. “Maybe you should come down from your throne and walk amongst the common people for a day. Nothing’s fucking good enough to you,” Kix spits out. His boot kicks a rock tumbling as he rounds the corner to clear the area. “Instead of thinking you’re all knowing, try looking in the mirror. I bet you’d shatter at the sight of your reflection. A person who’s so desperate to prove their worth to others that they insert themselves where they aren’t needed. Even when it puts their life at risk,” he groans and hits the side of his helmet with his fist. The generator hums quietly as the battle rumbles around him, but the area is void of any life. No rubble littering the coarse dirt and rocks. Not a single stray piece of metal or plastoid lurks in the mist. No immediate threats to pull Kix out of his spiraling thoughts. “Calling me a coward when they’d rather sacrifice their life, so they can die a hero rather than fight another day to be a better person”.

Kix’s words knock the wind out of you, and you stagger a step backward. Bumping into Jeese, your chest aches as you choke on your breathing. Dust and realization sting your ears as tears prick at your lash line while you watch Kix check the boulder mass just beyond the generator. As he approaches the obstacle, a blunt impact crashes into his helmet causing the footage to fizzle through static snippets. His com connection cuts in and out as Kix’s shout of surprise quickly turns into noises of combat. Until the hologram fades into the table, and you’re left with his words echoing in your head.

As if a cord has snapped, you feel as if you’re disconnected from reality. Your body feels like it weighs nothing while you do everything to balance the crippling fear trying to push you to your knees. General Skywalker and Captain Rex’s voices sound like they’re systems away even though you could reach out with your hand to either of them at the moment.

The only thought cycling through your head -- the only thought that burns itself into your memory -- is how Kix is missing and he thinks you're a coward.

At least that’s something the two of you could agree on.

You pull your gaze from the holoconsole and look Rex dead in the eyes. Rather than the collected captain you’ve worked with so often, Rex’s apprehensive expression and concerned eyes further stoke the rising flame of determination that courses through you. The sensitive pinpricks that sting your skin heighten the sensation of breaking through your consciousness’s fog.

“So, how are we going to bring Kix back home?” you demand. The finality of your words rings clear through the camp, and the four of you share a look of mutual agreement. None of you would be returning to the Resolute without the medic.

54 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Heartbreaker, Pat Benatar}

Pairing: Best friend! Eddie Munson x GN, Heartbroken! Reader, Platonic(ish)! Steve Harrington x GN, Platonic(ish)! Reader

Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Moving on

Warnings: couple of swears, alcohol consumption (Eddie has a sip of beer), references to weed, allusions to sex (nothing graphic), punching (a singular one), heartbreak, moving on, slight jealousy, angst, unrequited love

Length: 1916w

Series Program | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Counselor Note: Thank you for all the love and reactions to this series <3 My requests are open, so please send any thoughts, requests, or even just pop by to say hi! Hopefully, you all enjoy it. I'm not too sure how I feel about this part- part of me like it, part of me doesn't. Have a lovely day!

The vibrant flares erupt into the night sky as the bonfire ignites to life. Friendly chatter echoes alongside insects humming in late August. With groans about class schedule results and mourning the oncoming cold seasons’ approach, summer comes to an end.

Embers floating to join the twinkling stars seem to only enhance the sparkle of joy in your eyes. Just as the falling ashes suffocate Eddie. It’s as if you were reborn this summer- emerging from the sullen remnants of whatever you may have been going through and now light up in a newly found confidence. Pride swells in him to see you become a step closer to the best version of yourself, and no longer the shell of a human you had been since arriving back home in Hawkins.

But as he watches Steve pull you into a loose headlock to mess your hair and you jokingly swat at his arm, confusion clouds Eddie’s consciousness. For the whole summer, he’s noticed an invisible wall sealing you two off in your own little world. And Eddie can’t help but wince as stinging jealousy burns his throat with a sip of his beer. It begins to boil when Steve takes his newly claimed place by your side. When did it become you and Steve?

Ignoring the intense stare from across the fire, your attention bounces between Johnathan and his visiting friend, Argyle.

“I’m telling you,” Jonathan tries to explain.

“And I’m telling you- there’s nothing, nadda, that can beat the sweet sensation of Purple Palm Tree Delight,” Argyle raises his hands in assumed victory.

A huff of entertained disagreement leaves you, “You’re both incorrect.” Both boy’s soft expressions grow attentive when they look your way. “Clearly neither of you have tried Rick’s newest stock. Calls it ‘Wonderland’. Makes you feel like you’re experiencing everything for the first time. Swear by it.”

Jonathan and Argyle look at you with curious reservation. That’s a bold statement for even the finest connoisseur to make.

Steve chuckles from behind you, “Look, Johnathan, you know me. I don’t smoke anything, usually. But this? Felt like everything was perfect.” His hot breath tickles the shell of your ear sending shivers down your spine. “Notta drop of worry or anxiety- just flooded with, well,” he chuckles, sparing an unabashed look at your glowing form, “wonder.”

Crushing metal and aching knuckles breaks Eddie’s concentration from the interaction. Looking down at the crumpled can, he sees that not only his hand is covered in sticky beer but also Chrissy’s. He didn’t even notice her consoling touch.

Pressing a kiss to her temple, Eddie apologizes while getting up to search for something to wipe them clean. Chrissy follows the back of Eddie’s figure as he makes his way into the house after you and Robin. Something gnaws at the back of her mind and tingles with increasing nervous energy.

Fluorescent lights welcome you and Robin in your rummage to find something appealing to eat. An empty stomach this late into the night never mixes well- from personal experience. Cabinets shut with a bump and suggestions tossed cover the sound of a third pair of footsteps entering the house.

“So are we going to address the elephant in the room?” Robin dances around the kitchen.

“What’re you on about?” you peer over at her, but turn to resume your search.

Robin slaps her hands against the countertop and hums, “Oh I don’t know. You and Steve. Sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-.”

You quickly interrupt her song, “It’s nothing like that. We’re just- he’s just- he’s my best friend is all. That’s all.” Your voice grows an octave trying to explain your connection with Steve.

Blood rushes into his ears as Eddie slams the cabinet closed and whips around to face your shocked form. “Oh, so he’s my replacement, huh? I’ve been wondering where I stand in this,” his voice booms with anger. Not yelling, but an intensity bites at you with every word he bellows.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, a pressure building and hammering against your skull, tired from this conversation already. “You're still my best friend, Eddie. I can have more than one.” You cross your arms and face him head on. If this is how he wants this to go down- so be it. You’re not going to hold back. Not anymore.

“Really?” he squints in mock amusement. “Because with the way you’ve fucked off with Harrington and left me,” he shifts from pointing at the back yard towards himself, “It seems like you’ve moved on pretty fast.”

Your fingertips twitch and tingle from the bubbling rage rising in your body. Robin coughs uncomfortably before she scurries to the backyard. A look of panic paints her face when she takes one last look at the scene.

“That’s pretty rich coming from you, Munson,” you spit with venom. A ferocity, one that even strikes fear in Eddie, exudes from you.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie’s voice drops to dead seriousness.

You let out a cold bark of laughter, “You’re fucking with me, yeah? You cannot actually be this blind to it all.” You stare at him incredulously, his stone-like expression never melts to recognition.

“You really are,” you pause, “Where do I begin?”

Slowly drawing closer to Eddie, you stand toe to toe with him. His big brown eyes, once held your heart hostage, now hold nothing but unease as he looks you square in the eye. Trying to still appear in confident control, Eddie can’t help but swallow every word he wanted to say.

In a very calm, but firm tone, “You disappeared first,” you state, jabbing a finger to his chest with each word. The last one causes a surge of fire to kindle in you, as you observe a flinch to shudder through Eddie.

By this time, Robin had already relayed in a worried ramble what was unfolding inside to the rest of the group. Steve and Chrissy launch themselves towards the house with Johnathan and Argyle following close behind. Vicky and Robin try to reassure the kid’s worried concerns that it’ll work out. Nancy chews on her lip to numb the creeping fear festering in her and watches as a crowd forms at the entrance.

Neither of you notice the small audience, who hang out to your every word, at the sliding door. “I had to hear second hand from Robin and Nance what you were up to when the letters stopped coming and the phone calls went silent,” you hiss. “Only to find out that you got your girl. Fine- you’re in puppy love. Whatever. We have all of summer to catch up, right?” You let out a raspy, dry chuckle. Eddie’s eyes sting in guilt as apprehension pricks his skin, never seeing you so upset.

“Wrong. Every call I made was followed by an empty promise made by a lovesick boy,” you growl. “Hell, Wayne knows what I was up to, only because he stuck long enough to talk.”

Your pointed look pierces through Eddie, “I can take the whole ‘blinded by young love’ thing, but only to an extent. And I fucking did, for Chrissake! Because I’m so happy- truly and genuinely happy that you’re finally being loved and cared for like you deserve.”

Taking a deep breath, you collect oxygen to feed the fire stoking through your veins. “But you’re an inconsiderate fool who I’m done allowing the ability to break my heart. Time and time and time again. All those years,” your voice wobbles fueled by passion, “I have sat and watched you fall so deeply and hopelessly in love with Chrissy. I caught you everytime she looked past you and set her sight on someone else. I was your shoulder to cry on when she agreed to date Carver, of all people. I was the one to pull you out of your head when you thought you weren’t enough. I loved you so authentically that I offered my bleeding heart on a silver platter.” Your chest heaves, blood rushes to your head, adrenaline buzzes through your body.

“But you never spared me a second glance.”

Neither of you could pinpoint who started to cry first. Dizzying, painful realization washed through Eddie. No longer seeing his lost best friend, but instead recognizes the broken lover that finally shattered.

Swallowing deep breaths, your lungs cry for more air and demand for resolution, “I loved you wholly and unconditionally. Only to be tossed to the side and replaced by your girl.” Straightening yourself and moving in the direction of the front door, you make one more point: “Steve caught me when I fell. I will not- absolutely not- tolerate any jab or ill thought you have against him.”

The resounding echo of the front door slamming sends everyone into a flurry. Chrissy pushes past the boys as Jonathan and Argyle struggle to hold back an infuriated Steve. Eddie stands frozen in place by your chilling truth. The sound of Chrissy consoling him falls mute to his ringing ears. He can only focus on the intense wash of shock invading his system. Eyes locked on the tile floor where you once stood.

Steve breaks free of Jonathan and Argyle’s hold and hurls himself in fury to take up the place you occupied moments ago. Seeing the dazed look on Eddie’s face meet his enraged, wild eyes, Steve’s lost all control as everything turns red. Without second thought, Steve grabs the collar of Eddie’s shirt and sends a sickening blow to his face. Crunching bone and gushing blood triggers a new symphony of shocked cries and heated voices.

Pulling Eddie right to his face, Steve can smell the strong scent of iron from the broken bone. He can only hear the agonizing pants pushing past the metalhead’s mouth. He only feels absolute fear and regret from Eddie.

Shoving off grasping hands at his shoulders, Steve shakes Eddie by the collar with both hands. One side now stained with the owner’s blood. Eyes ablazed and looking right in Eddie’s pained look of acceptance, Steve grits through barred teeth: “I picked up the pieces you didn’t even know you broke.”

With one last jostle, Steve drops Eddie to the ground and makes his leave. “Don’t even think about trying any shit. No apology can make up for the pain you caused.”

Rushing outside, Steve’s eyes dart over the small sea of cars parked in the driveway. His gaze locks onto yours just as you look up from starting the family car. Adrenaline gives him the extra speed to make it into the passenger seat as the group of friends flood out the front door.

“Drive- fucking drive,” Steve exclaims with a laughter of disbelief.

Without question, you floor it in reverse and make your escape. The stereo blocks out their calls and shouts to come back. To explain what the hell just happened. “You gonna tell me what happened when I left?” you probe after a few minutes of excited tension.

“Don’t know what you mean,” Steve shoots you his mischievous smile.

You hum unconvinced by his teasing words and take his tattered hand to press a soft kiss to his bruised and bloody knuckles.

“What’s the soundtrack to our getaway?” Steve inquires, not letting go of your hand. Gently rubbing circles across your knuckles to soothe your slight shaking. Pride glowing in his already lit up eyes at your satisfied smile.

“Heartbreaker, by Pat Benatar,” you victoriously declare.

315 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Love Will Tear Us Apart, Joy Division}

Program: Argyle is a ray of sunshine that envelopes everyone in his warmth and softness. Everyday, you have the privilege to bask in his light and enjoy the high his shares. When thunder heads roll in and cloud your senses, one night tips you over the edge of no return and shatters everything you so dearly care for.

Pairing: Best friend! Argyle x Best friend, GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive/NSFW??? IDK

Warnings: Weed, Make out sess, Straddling (Reader on top), A single swear, Memory of drinking a beer, Pet Name (Honey), Long term miscommunication trope, A hint of casual dom! Argyle ????

Length: 2360w

Series Program | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Camper Tag: @billyslittledolly @staygoldwriting

Thunder rumbles and lurks behind dark storm heads outside of Argyle and Johnathan’s shared apartment. Sopping wet rain coats and boots pile beside the entry way as hushed laughter warms the late hours of the night. Wandering hands pull you further into the dark hallway as you push off Argyle’s denim overshirt.

“Gotta be quiet, alright?” Argyle lays his pointer finger on your lips to try to stop the trickle of chuckles falling. Although, he’s not much better with his smile lighting up the small corridor. The twinkle in his eye that catches your breath. How soft he holds you with his calloused hands. You could easily spend the rest of your days admiring Argyle as a work of art.

“Why did Johnathan skip tonight?” you mumble against his jaw and lightly hold onto the hem of his graphic tee. The scent of pine wood and rain make you go lightheaded as his skin warms you.

Argyle shrugs and pulls you into his cluttered room, “Nancy’s coming tomorrow. Guess they get some sort of holiday special to Boston? Something historical and important, I’m sure”. Snickers break the silence of Argyle’s room. Turning on the fairy lights strung up along the ceiling, Argyle kicks the stray clothes laying on the floor to the side before flopping onto his bed.

Posters scatter the wall ranging from Back to the Future to Queen. A simple full bed takes up most of the room with the exception of a homemade night stand, dresser, and desk that basically connect as one surface in the corner. The first week of your sophomore year of college, you found yourself drinking a beer with the boys as Argyle built some pieces of furniture to fill up his new apartment room. Beginning your first semester a year later, the tables are covered with books, pencils, journals, and each has their respective lava lamp. Even though the worn wood slab door sign declares this space “Argyle’s Hideaway”, it’s become your hidey hole just as much.

“C’mere, honey,” he grunts while reaching for the rolling tray on the bottom shelf of the nightstand.

You habitually turn on the lava lamps and a warm light show of blues, greens, and oranges cast over the room. A crack of lightning outside of the window reveals the stream of pelting water that targets anything in its vicinity. You weren’t going anywhere tonight. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, you think to yourself.

As Argyle focuses on rolling a few joints to share, you move to the corner of the room where his dresser sits to put on a record. Shuffling through the small stack he keeps, you hum when you find the perfect album. The drop and scratch from the record needle hums through the room before Joy Division crackles through the shitty little speakers.

“Honey.” Argyle drags out with a joint placed between his plush lips. He tilts his head to gesture you over to join him. A little pout causes flutters to sting inside of you.

Careful to toe over the abandoned shoes and lonely hoodie laying in your path, you shuffle over to the bed and sit cross legged in front of Argyle.

“Nope,” Argyle places the tray on the stand, and pulls you into his lap. Your breath hitches as you practically straddle him.

“Argyle,” you hiss and arch your back away while trying to push off of him. “What the hell,” you swallow the lump constricting your throat. The palms of his hands pull you back against his chest, so you feel his quiet laughter bubble. A couple of clicks before a hissing sound announces the evening’s activities start.

You crane your neck and rest against his shoulder to watch Argyle the first hit. His pillowy lips carefully hold the joint in place as he inhales. Eyelashes flutter when he closes his eyes to relax in familiar ritual. Parting his lips, he sighs in content with a small wisp of smoke. Argyle’s velvet, brown eyes peer down at you through the soft curtain of lashes.

“You alright? Hardly said a word since we got back from cram sess, and your face is all warm,” his voice quietly rasps. He casually parts your lips with his thumb before placing the roll between your lips. Your shoulder burns as waves of warmth strike through you as his other hand squeezes your waist.

Caught up in the Argyle’s touch, smoke tickles your throat before choking you. Coughs rattles through you and tears well in your eyes.

“Shit, hold on,” Argyle pulls a way and causes a whine to pull from your mouth as well that sets off another coughing spree. He bends over the bed and returns fumbling with a water bottle, “Here, okay. Take it easy, honey. It’s okay- it happens to the best of us”. Argyle grasps the back of your neck and helps you drink some water. The pit of embarrassment deepens when you splutter from a final cough and water spills.

“Fuck,” you heave and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, “Didn’t mean to get water all over your bed. Do you have a shirt or something I can change into?” You pull at the soggy shirt that clings to your body, and when your eyes dart to meet Argyle’s, you weren’t expecting him to be intently taking you in.

“Dingus,” you slightly raise your voice, “Earth to Argyle? Shirt? Something to not make me cold? That I can wear to bed?”

Argyle snaps out of his daze and gulps as he stumbles out of bed, “Uh, yeah. One sec- wait. Bed? My bed?” His voice raises slightly at the thought. His cheeks burn as he swallows his excitement while pulling out a band shirt from the dresser.

A tremor of thunder shakes the building as white light blinds the window. The heavy downpour of rain engulfs all that stand in its way. Droplets pound against the window panes and echo through the room. None of that causes the flood of tingles biting at Argyle. No it’s you- his best friend- who sits so nicely on his bed with a damp shirt asking for one of his own to sleep in.

“I feel like that answers for me,” you weakly joke, “Shirt, please?” You move from the bed and trade the joint for the shirt in his hand. Lightly pushing him away and towards the bed, you shiver as Argyle’s arm brushes your own. Butterflies flurry your stomach and make their way to tickle your heart.

Trying to force himself to breathe, Argyle pushes onto the bed and lazily lights the roll again for another hit. The faint buzz of THC only vaguely clouds his mind as he tries to stay focused on anything but the soggy shirt that grips to your skin. Or how small droplets trail down the plane of your back and creep closer to your waistband. Would you shiver if he ran his hands down your back like that? Or would you squirm? Argyle’s heart hammers in his chest when he sneaks a peek and sees you pulling on his shirt.

When you turn around, Argyle desperately tries to play it cool. Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of water and grabs the tray as you fall into bed once again. He closes the bottle and tosses it to the foot of the bed as he shifts to his side. His eyes catch how his shirt easily drags up and shows a little peak of your hip bone.

Bouncing against the bed, you land on your side with a soft thump, “By the way, while Nancy is visiting, you’re more than welcome to pop by my place at any time. More of a gift for Johnathan than escape for you”. Taking the joint once more, you breathe in the light musky herb and settle into the warm duvet beneath you.

“Perfect,” Argyle breathes out at the same time a little smoke cloud kisses your lips, “Hey, um- you want to try something?”

You quirk your eyebrow. Curiously eyeing his fidgeting fingers and watch as he hesitantly fiddles with the hem of your new favorite shirt to wear. “Like what,” you whisper. The pounding of rain deafens the music as you drown in Argyle’s blissed out gaze. His deep eyes flicker from your own to your parted lips.

“You have to promise that if this doesn’t end up working out, that we’ll still be best friends,” Argyle scooches closer to you and presses his chest against your own. Hearts hammering against each other, Argyle can’t tell if it’s the curves and planes of your body so close to him that makes him spiral or the fear of losing you.

Shivers tingle where Argyle drapes one of his legs over yours and wraps an arm to hold the back of your neck. Even the sweetest of daydreams didn’t come close to what it feels like to be held in Argyle’s embrace.

Tender warmth floods your chest and licks at your cheeks. You let yourself to be pulled into his enticing gaze.

Callous fingertips tease you as he lazily traces little doodles across your skin. Wondering how they would feel if you let them wander, knots fill your stomach in anticipation.

Every muscle twitches in response to your body. Pride blooms with your smirk from how Argyle reacts to being so close to you.

“What did you have in mind?” you ghost your lips over his jaw.

Argyle swallows a groan and begs, “You have to promise me, honey”.

Hovering over his lips, you feel his hot breath when he bites down on his bottom lip. With a pang, you instantly recognize the stoner’s nervous habit.

Before Argyle can even subconsciously think about poking his tongue out, everything stops when you dart your tongue across his chapped lips. Watching you frozen in place, Argyle struggles to process that you crossed the line so easily when he’s fumbling around it. Only when you bite down lightly and take his bottom lip between your own teeth does he snap out of his daze. A deep groan rumbles past his tongue, and Argyle pulls you impossibly closer- practically straddling on top of him.

Leaning down, you admire how stunning Argyle looks with his hair fanning across the pillows and how his chest heaves from such a little tease. “There has not been a day that I didn’t trust you, sunshine,” you affirm, gently holding his face in your hands. “What did you want to try,” you ask.

Shakily holding the joint to his lips, Argyle watches as the lighter faintly illuminates you in the softest glow. How alive you seem to look as you peer down at him. Though the confident expression that paints your face makes him feel hot, Argyle feels how jumpy you are as you squeeze your thighs around him. Tapping your thigh to try to comfort you, Argyle drags his hand up your body, desperately trying to commit to memory how you feel, just in case this does blow up in his face in the morning.

As his hand leaves your side, he pulls a quiet whine from your mouth, “Argyle, please”.

You barely register the small pressure his other hand places on the back of the neck, not needing his guidance. Closing the gap between the pair of you, you drink in the intoxicating sensation of his THC kisses. Your mouths slowly move together as you begin to ease into each other's touch. The familiar reassurance of his hand returns to your hip as he paws at your body. Both wanting to drown in how you feel in your hands. His jaw bone juts against your hold when Argyle sloppily deepens the kiss. Smoke snakes past your throat and roots itself to burn your lungs as they beg for relief.

With a wet click, you pull away from Argyle and admire the view. Glowing underneath the shifting shades of warm hues from the lava lamps, Argyle looks up at you with a dopey smile. Lips swollen and slightly raw, you swoop down and place a chaste kiss to his lips while you each catch your breath.

“I was right,” Argyle sighs. Both his hands firmly rest on your hips and press little circles into the soft skin he easily lets himself crave.

“Right about what?” you ask as you lay down on his chest, settling in for the night.

“You are honey,” Argyle hums while he places the tray and smoldering joint onto the night stand’s teetering pile. “Super sweet and leaves me wanting more,” he teasingly nips at your cheekbone.

You shoot up trying to put space between your bodies as both of you burst into laughter. “You’re disgusting, Argyle. Absolutely awful,” you squeal.

His arms tighten around you as bubbles of excitement sting you. When did his feelings change to match your growing crush? The thought of lost time can’t even dampen your sunny hideaway as Argyle rolls you onto the bed, so you face each other.

Your foreheads brush together as you try to lay as close together. His breath tickles your nose when they accidentally bump causing a chorus of giggles.

“I trust you completely as well, you know,” Argyle’s low voice makes something stir in you. “I, um, was wondering if you- if I didn’t read into things just now- if you wanted to make this a thing?” he nervously suggests. He really just wants to be able to enjoy casual intimacy with someone he trusts, and he can’t believe you’re even musing the idea. Let alone with him.

“There’s no one else I’d want to be with than you, sunshine,” you beam. Your heart soars, unable to believe that Argyle wants to date you. You didn’t think he would ever want to have a relationship. Let alone one with you.

Countless nights sat in the boys’ apartment, you watched a movie with Johnathan while your heart broke when you saw Argyle walk his weekend partner to the door. Nights that now mean nothing as your heart sings in his arms finally feeling at home.

271 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Heartbreaker Series}

Some Timeline Info:

This series takes place in the Summer of 1988, and we're going to pretend that Pictures of You by The Cure came out a year earlier okay? This means that Reader graduated high school in 1984 and graduated college in 1988. The kiddos are entering their senior year of high school while the older kids are entering their junior years of college, and Eddie (assuming he's 20 in his third year of high school) and Reader are 22.

I Don't Believe in Love

With or Without You

Program: It's time to move on. Just about everyone else could easily go about their days, but it felt like there was nothing left. Until Steve Harrington decided to crash your pity party and push you back into reality. Pairing: Platonic(ish)! Steve Harrington x GN, Platonic(ish)! Reader, Best friend! Eddie Munson x Heartbroken! Reader Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Learning to move on

Pictures of You

Program: Moving on is so much fucking harder than everyone lets on. Even you do try to work through your feelings and still hang out with your best friend, the new addition to his life can't let you truly feel like you have a place in his life anymore. It's just another night crying in the arms of the one person you stayed with you through it all. Pairing: Best friend! Eddie Munson x GN, Heartbroken! Reader, Platonic(ish)! Steve Harrington x GN, Platonic(ish)! Reader Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Learning to move on

Heartbreaker

Program: It's the end of summer, and with that comes the cold front of cozy autumn and chilling confessions. One last bonfire party to spark off heated jealousy. No one though the night would end in tears and blood. Pairing: Best friend! Eddie Munson x GN, Heartbroken! Reader, Platonic(ish)! Steve Harrington x GN, Platonic(ish)! Reader Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Moving on

Love is a Battlefield

Program: Autumn afternoons seem to envelope the small town of Hawkins in a haunting hold. You thought that with the start of the school year, you would find solace in time spent away from the friend group. But it seems like you can't escape the chilling memories of last summer when you bump into Chrissy Cunningham during Thanksgiving break when everyone's home for the weekend. Pairing: Chrissy Cunningham & GN! Reader Referenced Pairings: Best friend! Eddie Munson x Heartbroken! Reader, Platonic(ish)! Steve Harrington x GN, Platonic(ish)! Reader Genre: Angst, Heartbreak, Trying to move on

{One Offs}

Look So Good in Blue

Program: You've found a home in the arms of another. Sure they may not belong to who you originally imagined and daydreamed about, but they hold you safe and sound while pushing you back to your old self. Laughter and child like joy finally lights up the Harrington household, one rainy night. Pairing: Platonic(ish)! Steve Harrington x Platonic(ish), GN!Reader Genre: Fluff, Requested

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #counselor mythos post #camp halfwit bulletin post #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson x gn!reader #steve harrington x gn!reader

283 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Isolation, Joy Division}

Program: It's never us. Never a friend group. Never a sense of connection. Just them and you in the same room. Billy just happens to catch a glimpse of your lonely self when it's too late to grab onto you. Before you disappear from their lives with no note. No phone call. Nothing.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove & GN! Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Swears, Weed, Mentions of past Billy, Mentions of drinking, Themes/moods of the following: abandonment, isolation, and replacement

Length: 2407w

Doubts Even Here | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Counselor Notes: I feel so alone on this site and wonder if I should just stop sharing on here.

Do you ever feel like no one would miss you if you disappear?

That the phone lines would stay quiet if you just stopped ringing up your friends to hang out.

Even the cops wouldn’t bother to pick up your missing person’s case if someone cared enough to call it in.

If you were lucky, maybe Dateline would consider airing your mystery for a fleeting second before moving onto a bigger story.

That maybe you should have stayed in the Upside Down. Sealed off from the world and given a pitiful, hero’s wake.

Nancy Wheeler’s apartment looks like the typical twenty-some odd year old’s dream. An open space living room welcomes visitors when the door first opens. To the left of the living room, it merges into the kitchen with only an island countertop filled with soda liters and pizza boxes separating the rooms. Down the small hall to the right, visitors can find the bathroom and know to stay away from the bedroom at the end.

The whole friend group crams onto shitty sofas from hand me down parents. Holiday lights string across to the ceiling to illuminate all their smiling faces in a warm light. Laughter and out cries from the latest confession shared bubbles over the pristine record spinning in the background.

“I swear, these monthly hang outs are just for them to feed their egos,” Billy’s leg nudges your shoulder. Looking up from the uncomfortable bean bag chair, you’re met with a bored Billy staring at the main group. An unimpressed expression sits on his face.

“No. It’s nice to catch up, and you know that, Billy. Everyone here is extremely proud of the work you’ve put in and wants to hear how you’re doing,” you reassure him. His words, however, etch every letter into your mind and feed your hungry fears.

“More like, they want to make sure Max is safe, and that I’m not making her lie about weekly therapy. Keep your friends close. Your enemies closer,” he grunts into his cup. Words echoing in your aching head.

“They care,” you whisper. The tight atmosphere wraps around your neck as your hands start to shake.

“Sure, they do,” Billy snorts and looks down at you, “About themselves. None of this is going to matter next year. Or next month. Hell, I’ll be surprised if they remember their pissing competition by morning”.

Blood rushes to your ears, desperately trying to keep out his poisonous words. Your favorite flannel, normally a safety blanket, sits heavy against your skin. It constricts your breathing and pushes back every breath you try to take. His piercing blue eyes hold you captive as you hopelessly stare back at Billy.

“If it doesn’t add to their social standing, then they won’t give it a second thought,” he says slowly growing quiet. His eyes dart from your flushed face to your heaving chest and land on your trembling hands.”You alright,” Billy asks slowly while kneeling next to you. Biting into his bottom lip, his face scrunches up when met with silence.

Broken phrases and hurtful words while through your head. Pressure builds behind your skull, and it feels like you’re about to burst any minute. So, it is true.

Tears sting your dry eyes when you dare look over at the close knit group. No one seems to notice your lacking presence.

You swallow the lump lodged in your throat as you digest this new truth. You don’t add anything to their social standing.

A strangled breath cuts against your chapped lips when Eddie’s gaze drifts over you to settle on Jonathan’s animated form. They don’t miss you.

A snap cracks next to your ear. You jolt and whip your head to meet Billy’s look of distress. “Sorry, you were saying,” you uncomfortably laugh, “Stuck in my own thoughts, I’m afraid”.

You shift under Billy’s heavy gaze. “Are you alright? You were,” Billy pauses and pursues his lips in thought, trying to choose his words carefully. “It was like I was watching you die,” he darkly confesses.

A smile melts over your anxious expression and pushes back your raging emotions. “Very funny, Billy. Didn’t realize you were into Halloween that much”, you chuckle before lounging in your seat further. The slight hope that it would eat you up tickled your mind.

For the rest of the evening, Billy stays close to your side. Barely letting you out of his sight. An uneasy feeling gnaws at him. It only grows as the night goes on, and you fold into yourself more. As if you didn’t want to take up any space in the apartment you are so warmly welcomed into.

“Hey, do you think something’s wrong with-,” Billy tries to ask Steve at the kitchen island.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Steve waves him off and leans further into Jonathan’s side, “Gets like that sometimes”.

A pang hits Billy’s chest as he focuses on the teetering pair, “What do you mean? This happened before?”

Nancy scoffs as she pushes him to grab a water bottle, “I’m not that surprised you haven’t noticed, but this is pretty a pretty normal occurrence”. She lets Steve pull her into their cuddle, but Nancy keeps her attention on Billy. Her voice softens, “I think it’s just general nerves or anxiety being around groups. Nothing to worry about, and if it was, then we would know”. Nancy sends Billy a reassuring smile before allowing her boys to pull her into their conversation.

Irritated from his friend’s lack of concern, Billy faces out into the living room once more. Scanning the room, panic creeps up his spine and alarm bells ring in his head when he can’t find you. Without second thought, Billy places his cup on the island and rushes into the living room where Eddie, Robin, and Argyle lazily lounge on the sofa. “Hey, have you seen where-,” Billy hastily tries to grab their attention.

“Billy,” Argyle peers up at him, “I heard you were quite the party animal back in the day. Wanna join the rotation?”

Billy opens his mouth, tired of how everyone seems to forget your existence the minute they all get together, but he freezes. In Argyle’s outstretched hand, a lit joint balances between his slender fingers. A tempting invitation from his past.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” Billy chokes out and takes a step back. His eyes flicker between the joint and Argyle’s confused look. “I, um,” Billy wets his lips, “I don’t smoke anymore. Weed at least. I'm trying to lay off the drinking too, so I Iimit it now”. His heart pounds against his chest and desire leaves him dizzy.

“Wait, really,” Robin pushes off of Eddie’s shoulder, “We thought-”

“Yeah, I know what you all thought, Robin,” a hollow laugh accompanies Billy’s words. A fuzzy haze nips at his consciousness.

“She didn’t mean it like that, Billy,” Eddie sits up ready to step in at the sight of Billy’s haggard appearance. “Trust me, we’re all proud of you, man,” Eddie tries to continue, but clamps his mouth shut when Billy’s eyes cut through him.

“Don’t bullshit me, Munson,” Billy grits out. Running a hand through his hair, Billy takes a few deep breaths. The nipping feeling grows to a painful tingling that stings his skin. “Look,” Billy breathes out, “I know you guys don’t like me. I get it. I’m not holding it against anyone, especially not Max. Just don’t lie to me and say that your proud of the work I’ve put in to be a decent fucking person, when you don’t actually care at all. It’s disgusting, and I honestly thought you were above that, Munson”. The burning sensation scorches his insides.

The room drops silent. Only the distant car engines roaring downtown and the light record skip breaks the thick air.

“Is that really how you think of us,” Eddie asks. His hurt expression renders Billy speechless and slightly guilty. “Billy, man, we-,” Eddie stammers and stands up. Eddie steps over Robin and Argyle’s legs with ease, and he pulls Billy into a hug.

All the muscles in Billy’s body tense at the touch, and he desperately wants to escape the suffocating proximity. Past habits push Billy to twitch and flinch away, but Eddie pulls him closer. “You’re alright, Billy,” Eddie murmurs, “It’s okay. You’re safe. We do care about you. And, I am so sorry that we made you feel any less. Especially during such a difficult time”.

The scene was touching. Burning the sight into memory, the bitter feeling of resentment breaks your heart. Even Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve joined the living room when voices turned from casual conversation to hurtful truths. They stand just a footstep away from Billy as Robin and Argyle watch from the couch. All of them trying to give Billy the space he needs to process whatever is flying in his mind while still being near. Everyone supports Billy as he starts to let his walls come down.

“We’re all here for you, Billy,” Steve quietly reassures him, “I know I can speak for everyone here that we didn’t mean to exclude you at all”.

“I think we tried to let you ease into the group on your own, but ended up doing the opposite, huh,” Robin shakily rambles. “Trust me when I say this, it feels like the group is complete, you know? Like, you’ve always been around, and now that you’re not a dick, why wouldn’t we want you to be our friend. Other than the past trauma, but we can work past that! You’re working past that!”

Jonathan inserts himself between Robin and Billy, “What I think Robin is trying to get at is that you complete the group. Only people in this room have gone through all the Upside Down bullshit, and we all know that we have each other’s backs. For better or for worse. So, when you’re struggling, we want to be there for you on your terms”.

Standing in the shadowed hallway, tears fall to your cheeks and sting your lips with every word spoken. Who would have thought that Billy Hargrove would be the one to replace you.

Your feet silently move across the carpeted floor as a chorus of apologies mix with sobs.

Trembling fingers clutch your jacket from the coat rack when new evening plans begin to form.

Opening the door, you step past the threshold as they fall back into relaxed conversation and loving laughter.

With a sniffle and a click, you close the door. Feet dragging across the old floorboards, your thoughts hammer into your head with each step you take. Even if for a moment, it was nice to feel what it’s like to be cared for.

Walking into the crisp, Autumn night, the wind nips at the tear stains on your face. Side roads create a meltropolan web as your trudge through the city streets. Unknown road signs invite you to join the shadows of the night. Where people disappear and reappear in next week’s newspaper. What if they just wanted to escape the social constraints shackled to their wrists? To break free of the pressure weighing on their psyches as more people pick them clean of their love? Not everyone who goes missing wants to be found.

Rubber soles skid to a stop when your feet fit the cement staircase. With a heavy chest you walk up the stairs to your apartment building. Heart pounding against your rib cage as you insert your key into the scratched door knob. An uneasy sense of farewell washes over you as you walk into the small three bedroom apartment. You kick the door closed as you drop the key into the dish on the entryway side table.

The apartment sits in silence as the ghost of you walks to your place of rest. Not bothering to turn on a light, darkness castes over the near pristine open living room. Posters of rockstars greet you on the left side of the open room as you trudge past Eden’s shut door. Headlights intrude the glisten off the spotless kitchen through the blind’s slates. You move through the motion to get into your room and lay on top of your bed. Sealing yourself off from the world with your thoughts and a tantalizing world map hanging on your wall. Like hell, you would die in Indiana. You weren’t going to let the friends who abandoned you, bury you alive.

Snarling vines of anxiety slither down Billy’s throat and wrap around his lungs. Squeezing the screaming muscles with every second that ticks by. Shaking hands grip the sandy beige telephone closer to his ear in hopes of good news.

“Steve,” Billy rasps, “Have you heard from-”.

“No,” Steve’s panicked voice cuts him off, “Nothing. Literally nothing. No one- fuck, no one has heard anything”. Static muffles his hoarse voice, but Billy senses the same fear instilled in himself from across the line.

Chewing on his bottom lip and curling the telephone cord, Billy’s shoulders sag. “It’s only been a week since we hung out and five days since our last phone call. Maybe they just,” Billy’s haggard breath breaks his voice into wheezes. His knuckles turn white gripping the phone. “Steve, what if the upside-”

“Don’t,” Steve demanding tone cuts through, “It didn’t open up again. Flayer’s gone and never coming back”.

A heavy silence connects the two young men with clips of static stinging their ears as their hearts pound.

“Nancy is already heading to the cop station. Jonathan called Hopper just in case something,” Steve swallows the lump forming in his throat, “Just in case something did come back. But nothing did, Billy. We’re safe. Probably just went on a trip and forgot to tell us or something like that”.

Billy’s knees begin to buckle, and he leans against the cluttered kitchen counter, hanging onto every word Steve shares. His head pounds trying to process what the fuck you were doing. Is this just some game you're playing? Did you actually disappear? “We’re going to bring ‘em home. Right, Stev,” Billy’s brokenly mumbles into the phone.

A long pause shakes Billy to his core.

The metal molding digs into his skin as he holds his breath.

Steve’s voice sounds so small and unsure when it hits Billy’s ears.

“I don’t know, Billy. We’re going to try, but I can’t help but feel like this was planned”.

166 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Tom's Diner, Suzanne Vega}

Program: Exhaustion blankets you as you work through your shift at the local diner. The same faces tiredly greet you for their usual order. A static hum scratches the wrong side of your brain from the broken radio. Until a newcomer sits at the countertop with captivating blue eyes that make you stop. A brewing countertop crush.

Pairing: Demo Derby! Billy Hargrove x Server, GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Couple of swears, Petname (Cutie), Not proofed

Length: 1229w

Cover me (P.2) | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Counselor Note: I started work at a local restaurant, and I am exhausted. But I had a deep sleep dream of dating Billy and then I had to rudely go to work instead of living out my best life in dream world. So now I can't stop thinking about Billy taking care of server reader and stopping in to say hi.

The chime above the door shrills as a new customer enters the trolley car diner. Early morning sun rays break through the blinds and balance out the neon soda pop signs that decorate the wall. Red vinyl stool tops line the counter top just past the abandoned hostess stand. An odd assortment of early bird business men and night owl workers occupy the few booths that line the windows.

“Counter is first come first serve. Choose a booth if one is free,” you call over your shoulder. Your hands balance multiple plates of breakfast and comfort foods from the kitchen window. Turning to face the compact car, a new body fills the diner further to occupancy. His hands move without thought as he pulls out a pack of cigs and a lighter while nodding at you. Golden curls brush against his jaw bone. “Be with you in a sec,” you hum while walking between the hostess stand and counter.

You place the ceramic plates onto the booth tables. The clinking and clattering of cutlery create a mechanical cadence. Appreciative mumbles bring a small smile to your face, but a tingling sense tickles the back of your neck. When you face the counter once more, you notice the soft curls hastily sway.

A mischievous expression sneaks onto your face as you walk behind the counter, and you straighten yourself out as you grab an ashtray from the satn when passing by. “New here,” you point out and plop the plastic tray in front of the stranger.

“Not quite,” the customer hums. His piercing blues eyes take you in with a tired curiosity. “Moved here for part of high school. Now, back again in this hell hole after college”.

You chuckle in commiseration, “Well, that makes two of us. Minus the moving part. Coffee?”

He nods and takes a slow drag from the flickering cigarette. Wandering over to the coffee burners by the kitchen window, you pull the pot while grabbing a mug from the under shelf.

The faint mumbles of radio hosts converse as the silent diner simply exists. Everyone here has somewhere to be. Something to do. This is merely the place to rest before they have to move again. Steaming coffee warms your cheeks as it sloshes into the beige mug when you move back to the newcomer. Sliding the ceramic across the counter, you lean down on one arm and rest your head on your hand.

“Know your order, or are you the mysterious brooding type who only drinks black coffee in dingey diners early in the morning,” you ask with a light tease in your voice.

A half smile grows on his face while he takes a sip of coffee. Cigarette still in hand while ash scatters anywhere but the tray.

“Bill, please,” a gruff voice calls from the stand.

“I’ll let you think on it, ,” you press off the counter and go to take care of the departing patron.

His light laughter flutters in your stomach while you cash out the other customer. Your hands practically work with a mind of their own as they repeat the mundane task. Coins and cash pass hands as you close the drawer. Spare change clatters in the spare coffee mug with some witty tip remark.

Billy watches as you ease through the motions of ring up. He notices how you have a small rip in your diner shirt. How you weave the waist apron strings around your belt. Your cheeks slightly flushed from something. Either from movement or himself, and he bites his lip at the thought.

He turns away with a small laugh of disbelief as he takes another sip of coffee. Fatigue sits heavy on his muscles, but Billy can’t help feel warm inside.

Before the door closes shut, you’re leaning over the countertop once more. “How about it,” you remind him.

“How’s the food here? Not really looking to go home with a greasy stomach,” he asks. Each time he speaks, his blue eyes look directly at you. Holding you captive in his collected gaze.

You shift your legs to ease the growing pain blistering in your feet, “It’s not Enzo’s, but it won’t run your wallet through with mothballs”.

“I’m somehow not sold,” the customer shakes his head and places the mug down. One final drag before he stubs out his cigarette stub, and he reaches for his wallet. Supporting himself with one arm, he reaches into his front pocket as your arms follow the line of veins peeking past his rolled, jean jacket sleeve. Your mouth feels heavy as your eyes trail down to his hand. Long fingers grip onto the edge of the counter, and his knuckles are painted a pretty pink with a few scars littering across them. A small silver band wraps around his middle finger.

“This should cover it,” his voice breaks your attention. When your wide eyes meet his playful look, a blush burns your cheeks. Darting your bashful gaze to the counter, you see a wrinkled twenty dollar bill underneath his tapping fingers.

“Yeah, I’ll grab your change,” you breathe out. Nerves nip at your skin as you go to take the bill.

His hand lightly slams on top before you can pull it free and sends shock up your spine. His fingertips just barely brushing past your own. It’s too fucking early for this.

“All set, cutie,” he smirks. His pointer finger taps your own as he slides the bill underneath your hand.

You swallow hard, “That’s too much for just a coffee and some nice service”.

Still supporting yourself against the countertop, your eyes follow the newcomer as he raises from his seat. His stature blocks the warm light coming into the diner with his broad shoulders. With a look of amusement, he bends down to meet your level before moving forward further.

Hot breath tickles the shell of your ear as his curls brush against your jaw. “Either you pocket it for making this asshole smile this early in the morning, or you put it towards a tab for all the shitty coffees I’ll get this week,” his deep voice hums beside you.

He pulls away and makes his way to the door leaving you in a daze. The faint trill of chimes snaps you out of your haze, and you rush to follow after him. Sliding yourself between the stand and countertop, you quickly call after him, “How am I supposed to keep a tab for an asshole, when I don’t even know their name”. When he stops in the door, you mutter under your breath, “What a dick”.

Blue eyes dart to meet your own when he turns his head over his shoulder to look at you. A smirk sent your way stings your insides.

“Billy Hargrove, cutie,” Billy introduces himself, “And I’m somehow convinced you like that”.

Resting your hip on the countertop, you roll your eyes. “Like what, Billy?”

Billy moves his hand to rest on his belt buckle and raps his knuckle on the lower part of the teasing silver.

“See you later, cutie,” Billy hollers and walks out the door. Excitement bubbles inside him, not even concerned about the long day ahead of him at the derby grounds. Even with the stale coffee, he finds himself trying to figure out when he can see his countertop cutie next.

176 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 1 year

Text

{How Rex Falls Asleep & What That Says About Him}

Program: Just how he falls asleep when he's deployed and when he has the luxury of being at home in your arms. Where feels safe and loved.

Pairing: Rex x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Camp Resolute Masterlist

Rex sleeps on his chest no matter where he is- he just falls down and tries to push everything out of his mind while he can.

It helps him force his breathing to slow down and calm down when the ghosts of war weigh down on him.

He prefers to listen to the natural soundscapes around to try to ground himself.

Absolutely cannot fall asleep to TV or music, because he finds it too stimulating especially when his ears ring from cannon fire during the day.

So when some of his boys start to sleep better with music playing, Rex uses some of his savings to buy them soundproof earpods. That way everyone can fall asleep and forget about the nightmares of the day however they need.

Unless he's resting on your resting on your chest though, listening to your sleepy hiccups, Rex doesn’t struggle to fall asleep at all.

Nights spent with you are the only times that Rex feels safe and able to relax completely as he sinks into your bed.

He wraps a protective arm around your waist as he presses his face into your torso trying to commit how you feel tucked into his body or how you smell after a shower or the hums that slip past your lips as he trails his hands across your skin. Most importantly though, Rex listens to how strong your heart beats.

Your arms are his home that he yearns to return to every minute he is away.

From the time he steps foot into your apartment to the time he has to pull himself away for deployment, Rex's only desire is to be as close as possible to you.

He'll press his body flush against your own regardless of if you're cooking a meal together or mumbling about day's events before sleep passes over both of you.

Rex melts into his place by your side, just wanting to be enveloped by your presence.

When he is tucked away from everything wrong in the galaxy in the safety of your apartment, Rex only wishes to be consumed by your love.

That way he can remember why he fights to desperately to survive each day on the battlefield.

-> Sleep is the only time Rex has a the opportunity to run away from his fears, responsibilities, and the unknown that lurks all around him. -> When he steps into your apartment, Rex knows he can hide completely from the expectations and prejudice that comes with the armor he proudly wears. -> He basks in the comfort you provide and subconsciously allows himself to strip himself of his mental walls to let you in, because Rex loses a piece of himself every time he has to comfort a brother who lost his batchmate or report that a riduur has been added to the casualty list.

71 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Taking a Shower with Steve}

Program: Soft Shower Headcannon

Pairing: Steve Harrington x GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning: A singular swear, Reader has hair

Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Always starts with a bath since he knows you need to ease into the thought of standing and taking care of yourself.

Steve lets you set the temperature for the bath based on your achey muscles and needs.

Holds you close to his chest as he rubs your shoulders and combs through your hair gently with his fingers.

"What made you happy today, sunshine?" he hums and presses a kiss to your shoulder blade and up your neck. "This. Just appreciating your loving touch," you whisper in response. He blushes and presses a trail kisses up and down your neck. You just made his day.

Holds the back of your thigh and supports your lower back when you decide to get up and switch on the shower head.

Taking in how the droplets of water hug your figure and tries to memorize every freckle and dip.

Leans against the wall opposite of you as he watches in adoration when you wobble a little and start the shower.

"It's going to be too hot when it heats up all the way, love." "But it's fucking freezing. I'm chilled after one splash."

At the sight of the first uncomfy jump from hot water, he scoots pass you and shields you from most the water.

He knows that you just need to warm up, so he'll slowly and subtly change the heat down to a better temperature.

Watches and adores you as you try to wash your hair only to turn around and pout for a kiss. He easily complies and swells from your loving gaze.

Knows your wash routine after slowly taking note and observing.

"Tch- lemme wash your hair and clean you up, baby." "But 'm so tired."

Steadies you with a firm grasp to your hip and taps his fingers, silently telling you that he's got you.

"But you know you'll feel better." He can't help but quirk an eyebrow even if you can't see it. "You're right," you sigh.

Messages your scalp and knows exactly the right amount of product to use and when to use it.

Will ask if it's a certain day if your routine differs then usual.

"Can you hand me your body way, pretty?" he asks kindly and pats your bum.

Gently washes you with the loofa and bends down to kiss the center of your spine.

"Kay, honey, tilt your head down for me, I can get your neck." Carefully holds your hair away and is even more careful with your sensitive spots.

Guides you to then face him and tilt your head upward with his other hand. Just slowly movie your head side to side to softly wipe the front of your neck.

"All set, darling," he basks in how refreshed you look. "Thank you for caring for me," you hum. Utterly speechless because no one's ever thanked him for that. He dips down to press slow, tender kisses across your jaw, cheek, and awaiting lips.

Lets you dry yourself off as you can have a moment to center yourself.

Wraps you up in a fluffy robe.

Throws you one of his comfy shirts and one of yours to choose from.

Waits in bed consumed by a sleepy, happy daze as you putter around doing your nightly routine.

Opens his arms wide and invites you to join him with a tired smile.

Utterly content to call this his life.

Excited to start every day in a tangled pile with you.

Yearning to fall into bed and hold you close each night.

201 notes · View notes

toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Cherry Pie, Warrant}

Program: Summer's coming to an end with the Hawkins town fair under way. While every typical couple seems to be excited about the ferries wheel or the tunnel of terror, you and Billy have your eyes set on the demolition derby. Adrenaline and pride course through veins watching Billy in his element- even if it scares the shit out of you.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff/Suggestive (IDK it's a demo derby, it's gonna be messy but I think it's cute)

Warnings: Couple of swears, pet name (baby), blood, car collisions, steamy make out session, suggestive themes at the end

Length: 1411w

Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Crushing metal spurs the animated crowd and excited announcers to roar to life. The heavy summer evening heat amplifies the sweltering stadium lights shining down on the sandy terrain. Cars revving and out maneuvering each other send a dust cloud in their wake. Fans cheer and curse at the junker car collisions. The echoes of microphone feedback and engine hums ring in the final night of the Hawkins Fair Demolition Derby. Buzzing apprehension jumps from person to person as they sit on the edge of their seats, waiting to crown their tournament winner.

Gripping onto the wire fencing that separates the arena from the crowd stands, your eyes never leave Billy’s car. A flush washes over you and heat tingles in your cheeks everytime you catch sight of Billy's calculating eyes and cocky smirk. His hair flies wild as sweat glistens, highlighting the animalistic expression on his face- ready to go for the final strike against his prey. During moments where the cars circle each other, Billy scouts the screaming crowd in search of you to shoot you a wink. There’s not a doubt in either of your minds who’s going to reign champion tonight.

Turning to refocus his confident gaze, Billy’s eyes widen as the familiar rush of adrenaline is overpowered by the oncoming whiz of his rival. They must have noticed Billy’s looks to this side of the crowd, knowing that someone important was waiting on just the other side of the makeshift barrier. Billy’s left side slams into the door of the car as his opponent t-bones the passenger side and keeps burning rubber, pushing his car into the barrier’s cement foundation. The smell of iron and exhaust invades his system and shoots a dizzying strike to his stomach. The wire fence’s clashing vibrates with the scorching pain throbbing in his skull.

Blinking to clear his dazed vision and taking deep breaths, Billy’s blood boils and rushes through him in a blaze. Anger deafens the crowd’s growing boom. A guttural growl reverberates his bones and pushes past his gritted teeth.

“Billy! Fuck’s sake, Billy snap out of it. Wake the hell up, now. Or they’re gonna pull you out.”

Whipping his head to look out the side window, Billy’s burning eyes fall onto your slightly shaking form: “You alright?” If so much as a hair is out of place on you, the last semblance of control he has is going out the fucking window. Even if his opponent only thought about using you as a weapon against him. Gripping onto the wheel with white knuckles, Billy locks onto your own trembling and raw hands. Before you can even respond, Billy barks, “They’re fuckin’ dead”. Slamming on the gas and turning back to the front window, Billy’s once cocky expression hardens. Rage pricks every nerve in his body and sends him into action, acting on pure instinct and wrath. He’s done playing. Nothing’s going to hold him back from teaching this son of a bitch a lesson and dragging their ass to hell. Victory is only second best to revenge.

Your heart tries to break free of its cage, racing from being on the opposite side of the collision’s impact as well as screaming in concern for Billy. Droplets of blood sprayed from his head wound mix with your own from not jumping away from the fence fast enough. You count your lucky stars with teary eyes that you managed only scraped knuckles and anxiety zapping in your body. Nothing too serious you think, as your knees wobble and brace against the crumbling concrete of the barrier section.

Irritated by the dust, tears burn your eyes as you watch Billy attack his rival with a sadistic determination. The clanging metal fence holds you up when your knees buckle and stomach plummets as Billy’s car rams into the other vehicle. The cuts on your fingers bubble with blood from your tight grip when he backs his car away from the other and waits a moment. Before he skids in a sand cloud, hurling forward once again. Gasping to ease your burning lungs, you yell in encouragement as Billy lands a fatal blow to the hood of the other car.

10. Light headed dizziness makes your mind fuzzy as the announcers begin the final countdown.

9. The crowd jeers and joins to magnify the count.

8. Billy’s car stares down his rival’s smoldering remains.

7. He revs the engine in predatory patience.

6. Tires occasionally spit dirt against the crumbled hull of defeat.

5. The tang of iron kisses your tongue from biting your lip so hard.

4. Triumph tingles through your body as the staff pull the other driver away from his car.

3. Wild cries and waves of excitement flood the stadium.

2. Billy focuses on your buzzing figure and beckons you with a gesture of his finger.

1. His adoring subjects spring to crown King Hargrove, the Ruthless.

Pushing through the rushing spectators, you slip past the staff at the drivers and pit crew entrance. Pumping your legs and kicking up sand into the faces of chasing crew members, you shout, “Billy,” as his body leaps out of the driver’s window. A new high fuels you when his radiant smile grows at your nearing form.

“C’mere, baby. Gotta show you off too”. The victor catches you in his outstretched arms, still twitching from the endorphin rush of a spectacular win. Leading you over to the car, Billy slips into the driver’s seat through the crumpled window frame. His hand soars out to grab your arm and stop you from moving to the passenger side. “Not safe from the crash, s’ completely jammed. Hop on here, baby,” he pats the frame and chuckles, “I’ll hold you nice and tight”. Billy’s smirk grows as your expression warms in bashfulness. “Don’t have a lot of time to waste if you want to join the victory lap, unless you want some carnie to carry you away”.

Tearing your gaze away from his searing look, you see a staff member closing in. Quickly swinging your legs into the vehicle, you feel sparks spreading from Billy’s touch when he wraps his left arm to secure in place. Once you’re situated sitting out the window, Billy’s strong squeeze spurs more flames. “Hold on!” One arm holding onto the headrest inside, you wave the other in conquest as Billy takes a few laps around the arena. Feeding off the crowd’s chanting worship.

Wind nips at your skin as your laughs mix with Billy shouts, crying out into the night sky. The engine trill overpowers the adoring ovation. Your eyes dazzle from all the bright lights and camera flashes when you look down to catch Billy’s smug look. He may be Hawkin’s king, but he’s your champion.

Driving out of the arena and down a winding path to the demo car lot, Billy parks the junker and turns everything off. Both his hands grasp your legs to help you into the car and straddle him, holding you close. You weave your fingers in his damp curls as Billy launches on you. Pushing his lips onto yours in a fiery kiss. All the energy from the night sparks between the two of you and burns as Billy bites down on your lower lip. Nibbling on it and lapping at your cut before he pulls away, Billy darkly chuckles as you lean forward to follow him. Drunk off his touch. Needy for more.

Billy’s eyes look at you in curiosity as his thumb drags across your bottom lip only to dance softly over your small gash. Focusing his gaze on your heaving chest and pleading pout, the sadistic confidence fuels the fire licking at his veins. Billy takes your face in one hand and guides you to hover just before his parted lips.

Wriggling in his lap, you paw at his chest and push further into his hold. Lust and desperation cloud any concerns of being caught and turn your congratulatory words into whines. Billy’s other hand drags up your leg and rests firmly on your lower back, pushing you flush against him. He turns your head slightly to ghost his mouth to the shell of your ear. Hot breath fans flames against your neck, Billy’s voice drops to a deep hum that ignites jolts of tiny sparks tingling through you.

“So, what’s my prize, baby? Better be worthwhile since we’re missing out on all the fun back up there.”

195 notes · View notes