#i still love wayne don’t get it twisted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovebugism · 3 months

Note

shy! reader request: eddie & reader having their first sleepover? reader bein all cautious about her actions and if it’s ok and eddie seeing this just lifts up the blankets to the bed to welcome her in to snuggle :)

love love love this request! hope you enjoy :D — eddie tries to make his shy!gf feel at home in his trailer (fluff, new relationship hijinks, 2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Despite what people say, Eddie Munson does not drive like a maniac.

Correction— Eddie Munson doesn’t drive like a maniac when there’s a pretty girl in his van.

Even though you’re pretty much the first girl to be in his van period (and even though you wouldn’t consider yourself all that pretty), you’re glad to be an exception to the rule. Your panoply of anxieties couldn’t have handled anything more than the passably steady car ride from Benny’s Burgers to Forest Hills.

You don’t mean to let out a sigh of relief when he parks in his driveway.

Eddie grins and unlatches his seatbelt with a soft click at the same time you do. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks with eyes just as wild as his hair.

You shake your head with your lips pursed to the side, then peer at him from beneath your lashes. “After everything Steve said, I was expecting a lot worse,” you confess. And even though you duck away from him, Eddie can still see the small smile on your petaled mouth. Just as quiet as you are.

“Well, one, don’t listen to anything Steve says, okay? Like, ever,” Eddie cajoles lightheartedly. “And two, I don’t drive crazy when I have precious cargo sitting next to me, alright? Stevie’s just jealous ‘cause I think you’re prettier than he is.”

Your nose scrunches as you try to worm your way out of his compliment. “So you think Steve’s pretty?” you tease, already knowing the answer.

He scoffs. “Totally! Just not pretty like you. And don’t tell him I said that either— It’ll just go to his hair.”

The incorrect turn of phrase makes you giggle.

He turns his knees towards the door and curls his fingers around the latch. “Wait for me a second, will ya?” you hear him mumble before he hops to the ground. He slams the door shut behind him and rounds the hood on his way to you — sneakers crunching against the gravel, momentarily aglow with yellow headlights.

He’d done this before at the diner. You wait patiently for his arrival like you did then, even though you feel a bit silly doing so. You’re more than capable of getting out yourself, but Eddie always insists.

He opens the passenger side door for you with a tightlipped, lopsided grin and holds his free hand out towards you. His fingers are larger and much warmer than yours as they wrap around your palm to guide you out.

The van isn’t that high up off the ground, really. He just likes to hold your hand.

You don’t mind it, though. You’ll take any opportunity to hold him back.

He leads you up the driveway and inside the trailer with his hand entwined with yours. “Wayne’s not here?” you murmur when you’re finally inside, noticing how quiet and empty the place is.

Though maybe empty’s not the right word. The place is filled with stuff — old furniture, a collection of mugs, and various other necessities. Not a mess, just an organized chaos of miscellaneous clutter. It feels like a home. Like a place that’s been lived in.

“No. He’s at work. Graveyard shift,” Eddie answers, tossing his keys onto the coffee table with a high-pitched clack.

He starts to shrug off his leather jacket and notices how squirrelly you seem, all skittish with your face twisted with a distant worry. Your neck twitches softly, head tilting once to the side and back up again. Your quiet concern becomes his own.

His brows raise, hidden beneath his curly bangs, as he slides the fabric down his tattooed arms. “Is that okay?” he wonders, eyes wide and twinkling with apprehension.

“Yeah!” you answer, louder and quicker than you mean to. You’re obviously overcompensating, but you shrug it off anyway. You smile sweetly at him, even though it wavers at the edges, and tilt your cheek to your shoulder. “I was just— It was just a question.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“‘Cause it’s okay if you don’t wanna stay the night,” Eddie assures you, giving you an out so you don’t have to make one yourself. “It’s whatever, you know? Give me the word, and I’ll take you back home. I’ll just spend the night all alone… In an empty trailer… In bed all by myself…”

His quiet smirk widens to a broader beam when he nears you. His pale hands curl around your arms, the faded bats below his thumb sitting neatly outside your elbow.

He’s joking, of course. Well, not about the taking you home part, but about all the rest of it.

He thinks he’d die if he ever made you feel anything less than totally safe. Dying would feel easier, at least. He’d never make you feel bad about being anxious, or coerce you into hiding your feelings for his sake. He cares about you far too much for any of that.

So his tense heart rests a bit when you smile.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, quiet but still sincere.

The boy brightens all at once. Excited in such an innocent, boyish way. “So I get to kiss you all night long?” he wonders in a disbelieving murmur.

“Only if you want,” you answer with burning cheeks and clammy hands.

“Well, I do want… I want very much…”

He kisses you then, until your lungs run out of air. Standing together in the middle of his living room, lit by so many yellow lamps, with the croaking of frogs and the chittering of crickets sounding in the navy blue night.

He pulls away sometime after. Maybe a second. Maybe an eon or more. He recovers from being so ardently kissed much quicker than you do and guides you down the short hallway to the single bedroom. You still feel the imprint of his mouth against yours, like he’s still there.

Your lips tingle with longing, grieving the lack of him.

You still make him turn around before you change, though.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he teases from the very center of his mattress, right before turning onto his stomach and shoving his face into the pillow.

“It’s different,” you murmur, mostly to yourself, as you slide the sleeves of your dress down your shoulders. The fabric falls to the carpeted floor in a puddle at your feet. You make quick work of redressing, as though there were some kinda time limit to what you had asked of him.

“I know,” he replies, muffled into the cushion his cheek is smushed against. “You’re still pretty, though.”

“You can’t even see me,” you argue and slide a pair of frilly sleep shorts over your thighs.

“I’d still think you were pretty even if I never saw you again.”

“Jeez,” you laugh, shoving your head through the neckline of a band-tee older than you are.

“…That sounded kinda morbid, huh?”

You giggle again. This time because his voice is still smothered into the pillow, stifled and utterly faint. “Just a little,” you answer.

“Well, it was supposed to be a compliment.”

“I know. You can turn around now.”

Eddie lifts his wild head and peeks at you over his shoulder, one eye squinted shut just in case he heard you wrong.

You’re less dressed up than before, but still as pretty as you were ten minutes ago.

The subtle domesticity of seeing you in pajamas makes his chest ache. It’s like doing laundry or making a shopping list — something so utterly mundane that’s so strikingly tender.

“Pretty,” Eddie mumbles some moments later, when his brain forgets every word but that one.

“Shut up.”

Your hands wring together as you idle at his bedside, like you need some kinda invitation to come closer. Your head tilts again, a gentle swaying of your head that seems almost involuntary.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Eddie wonders with a soft pink, inquisitive grin.

‘Cause this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. You did it earlier, when you first walked in, and a couple times at the dinner. Like when you catch him staring or after he’s complimented you. It’s almost like you have some genuine aversion to his affection.

“Doing what?” you murmur, all innocent.

Eddie swings his legs off the side of the mattress, socked feet melting into the carpet. His parted thighs are enough of an invitation as you settle intently between them.

“That thing with your neck,” he answers when he’s fully upright. “The uh…” He replicates it for you, drops his cheek to his shoulder and brings it back up again. He doubts he looks nearly as cute as you do doing it.

You get so self-aware that your stomach starts to ache. “I don’t know,” you answer through the frog in your throat. “I do that sometimes, I guess— When I get nervous. I can’t really help it.”

“Nervous?” Eddie echoes, face twisted with sudden anguish. His hands reach for your wringing ones. He musters a shaking smile up at you. “Babe— Why are you nervous?”

You dig your bare feet into the carpet, shifting your weight and ducking your gaze like a nervous child. “‘Cause I haven’t slept over before. And I don’t really know what to… do. Like, what if I snore really loud? Or drool a lot? What if I accidentally punch you in my sleep or something?”

Eddie doesn’t mean to laugh in the face of your genuine worries, but it spills out before he can stop it. It’s so like you to stress yourself sick over something that’s about as likely to happen as getting struck by lightning.

“I’d probably like you more, honestly,” he answers, giving your clammy hands a gentle squeeze. His nose scrunches until the edges of his eyes crinkle. “You’re too perfect. You need something to humble you.”

“Don’t be nice to me, I’m being serious.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I can sleep on the couch. Or on the floor or something—”

“It’s your house, Eds.”

“Well, I’m not making you sleep on the couch, and especially not on the floor. Even if I was that big of an asshole, I think Uncle Wayne would kill me.” He grows suddenly serious a second later. Still smiling, but with something more earnest in his eyes. “But… I do think we’d be more comfortable, you know, in a bed. Together.”

He’s right, but it doesn’t mean you’re happy about it. Not because you don’t want to sleep in the same bed as him, but because you’re too anxious to let yourself enjoy a good thing.

“I’m just bad at sleepovers, I think,” you confess in a tiny voice, like that fact isn’t utterly obvious now. “Like, one time, I was at a friend’s house in middle school, and I used a poster as a blanket ‘cause I was too scared to ask for a real one.”

Eddie’s smile widens. The rose petal expression blooms so large it makes his cheeks hurt.

“Of course, you did,” the boy says with a shake of his head, frizzy curls swaying around the outsides of his jaw. “You’re so damn cute, you know that?”

You make a vague, grumbly noise of disdain right before Eddie wraps you in his arms. He pulls you softly down until you’re sitting on his jean-clad thighs, then buries his face into your shoulder. You smell like the soap you showered with and the burgers you ate and the perfume you put on just for him.

Eddie presses his lips there, to your collarbone, where the neckline of your shirt has dipped slightly down. He lingers there for a moment, then pulls away with a soft smack.

“I promise to make this the best damn sleepover you’ve ever had in your life,” he promises, muffled from where his nose is smushed into your neck.

“Yeah?” you mumble into the curls tickling your chin.

He nods, still pressed against you. “And I promise to tuck you in before bed so you don’t have to go using my posters as blankets, either.”

You push him away with a half-hearted hand. His boyish laughter paints the tiny bedroom golden. He pulls you back a second later, and you melt into him without thinking twice.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: bug turns one

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wynnyfryd · 5 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 29

part 1 | part 28 | ao3

“Hey,” Steve sniffles when Eddie gets home.

He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’s been crying since Wayne left for work — the exhausted, intermittent kind that leaves him boneless and craving a nap. From the foyer Eddie’s expression pinches with concern, and Steve can’t help the little bubble of wet laughter he lets out over the sight he must make: swaddled in a blanket, tear streaks down his face, neck flopped over the back of the couch to look toward the door. And he’s surrounded by towels.

The few that Wayne managed to salvage after his temper tantrum are all hung up near the radiator, draped over shelves and the backs of chairs, and the rest are sloshing away in the washing machine. (Wayne started a fresh cycle for him before he left for work; didn’t say a word about Steve boohoo-ing like an injured toddler on the other side of the room, which kind of makes him want to cry again.)

“Welcome to your house,” Steve tries to joke, but his voice cracks, so it comes out sounding more pathetic than funny.

“Uh… hi?” Eddie speaks slowly, moves slowly, cautious as he drops his bag and toes off his sneakers. He comes to stand behind the couch.

Steve blinks up at him with another weak, watery laugh.

“You okay?” Eddie asks. He bows his head to meet Steve’s gaze, eyes sharp with worry, brows drawn down, and Steve smiles just a little when Eddie’s hands reach up to touch him: sweep his hair off his forehead, cradle his face, cup his jaw. He runs his thumbs over Steve’s cheekbones, wiping at the salt tracks, and his rings rest in the hollows, his fingers drumming soothing rhythms as he chews on his next words.

Steve thinks he’s never seen something so lovely. Full lips twisted up in sympathy; secondhand heartbreak in his eyes. His hair falls around them like a curtain, like a cocoon.

He looks beautiful.

Warm.

Safe.

“...Do you wanna fuck around?”

Eddie’s hands flex against his jaw and then go still. So perfectly still, every muscle tensed, face gone horribly, carefully blank.

“Jesus,” Steve cringes at himself. He screws his eyes shut with a groan; lifts a hand to hide his face. “Oh, my god. Dude, I’m so sorry, I don’t—”

Eddie plucks Steve’s hand away. Goes back to holding his face, fingers kneading the tense muscles in Steve’s neck. Steve’s thinking that if he could just go blind right now so he never has to look up and see Eddie’s reaction, that would be so cool.

“Hey,” Eddie coaxes. “Look at me?”

Steve cracks one eye open. “Sorry,” he winces.

“S’okay,” Eddie says. Soft and simple, like it's easy, like he means it. There's a smile in his eyes, a playful quirk to his lips. “More than okay, actually; shit, that’s like, supremely fucking flattering, just, uh…"

Oh, god. Is this the part where he lets Steve down? Tells him he read this all wrong; that he let Robin witness his whole sad wet sexuality crisis for nothing?

"Feel like I missed a couple chapters on the reading assignment here, Steve,” Eddie laughs; a disbelieving little thing, his blunt nails catching on Steve's stubble. “You wanna tell me where that came from?”

“Just…”

Steve lets out a breath. Desperately wants to look away, because it’s embarrassing. What he wants.

Why he wants it.

“Last night, when you…”

"Mm. Surprised you remembered that.” His thumb drifts to the corner of Steve’s lips, traces the dip between his bottom lip and chin like he's remembering it now, too. "You were pretty fucked up."

Steve whimpers under the touch. He wants to part his lips, drop his jaw; invite Eddie to feel, to pet his thumb over his tongue and press down with two thick fingers. See how far they’ll go. Eddie makes a noise, and his hands retreat to higher ground; massaging Steve's temples, scratching lightly at his scalp. His voice is almost painfully tender when he murmurs, “No offense, but, um. You still seem a little fucked up now."

Steve nods mutely, because he can feel a rogue tear sliding sideways to his hairline, and what is there to say? It's true. He is a little fucked up now. (A lot fucked up, in fact. Kinda feels like Eddie's fingers down his throat would fix him, but he doubts Eddie would agree.)

Eddie maneuvers around the side of the couch, comes to crouch in front of Steve with his hands braced on Steve's knees. Looks up at him with wide, earnest eyes; two black moons, gravitational pull. "For the record," he intones, squeezing the meat of Steve's thigh, bringing his hand back down to Steve's kneecap with a mournful hiss of air. "I do want to. Fuck around with you, I mean, just- you know. Probably when you're not crying."

Steve huffs a quiet laugh. "You're not into that?" he jokes.

Eddie's dimple flashes. "Only when I'm the cause of it." Then it disappears again, tone serious and soft. "Do you want to talk about it?"

No. God. Not even a little bit; would honestly prefer to get another plate smashed over his head so he can forget this day ever happened. "My mom left," he croaks. He sounds fucking terrible, voice breaking and full of phlegm.

"Shit," Eddie says.

"Shit," Steve agrees.

Eddie gives him a long look — a Robin look, inquisitive and intense, like he can tear all the answers right out of Steve's head. Pluck them up like stray eyelashes; blow them away for good luck. Steve lets himself stare back, catalogs his features: all the freckles and fine lines, the pores, the vellus hair. There's a chicken pox scar just below one of his eyes, a faint silver pockmark that twists and shines in the dim light.

Eventually, Eddie must find what he's looking for because he claps Steve's knees and stands, rolling his shoulders back and down. "Yeah, sweetheart," he nods, "I got exactly what you need."

—

part 30

tag list in separate reblogs, if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #my writing #my fic

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary: With no friends and the looming threat of losing custody of his son, Eddie's the lowest he's ever been. But you know what they say: “Rock bottom just means there’s nowhere to go except up."

Warnings: angst, visits from CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's

WC: 6k

Chapter 5/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

The phone rings as Eddie wrestles Harris into his jacket. He still hasn’t figured out how to break the news about his classroom change; at this rate, he’ll be dropping him off at school before he works up the nerve. Is there any good way to tell your kid that he no longer gets to spend his days with his favorite teacher?

“Keep that on,” Eddie instructs Harris, pointing to the navy blue sweatshirt. “I’ll zip it for you in a sec.” He jogs over to the phone, answering with an irritated, “Hello?”

“Ed?” Wayne’s voice drifts from the receiver. “It’s Wayne.”

Eddie nods before remembering that Wayne can’t see him. “Y-Yeah, hey,” he says, tone softening at his uncle’s familiarity. There’s a dull ache in his chest when he thinks of how he willingly shut him out over the last month. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Can’t complain.” Wayne clears his throat. “I’d love to see you and Harris. Whenever you get the chance.” Eddie can hear his concern, the unasked questions that dissolve on his tongue: Are you okay? Is Harris? Do I need to file that custody agreement?

He glances over at his son, who, despite Eddie’s promise, is unsuccessfully trying to thread the zipper with its teeth. He motions him over, cradling the phone to his ear and stretching the cord while he kneels to fasten the jacket. “We were actually about to head to the park if you wanted to meet us there,” he says. “This kid’s got way too much energy to keep him cooped up in the apartment. We’ll both lose our minds.”

Wayne lets out a kind chuckle. “Sounds like a Munson.” Eddie can hear the tinny jangle of his keys. “The park over on Porter Drive?”

“Yup.”

“Dad, let’s go!” Harris whines, twisting the doorknob back and forth to emphasize his impatience.

“We’ll be there in ten,” Eddie tells Wayne, catching a glimpse of the neon orange cast peeking out from under Harris’s jacket. It’s now adorned with his classmates’ names. Your signature seems to beckon Eddie, taunt him, even, and he tries to convince himself that it’s because it’s the only one that doesn’t resemble chicken scratch. “Oh, Harris broke his wrist, but he’s fine. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

“Hoo boy,” Wayne breathes. “Definitely a Munson.”

Harris spends the short drive to the park bouncing in his carseat. “Is Grampa Wayne gonna play with me?” he asks, rocking back and forth excitedly.

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, keeping his eyes trained on the road. He nervously thrums his fingers along his jean-clad thighs. What if Wayne still didn’t think he was a responsible parent? What if he took one look at Harris’s injury and raced home to call his lawyer? “But I gotta talk with him first, okay? You can play by yourself for a little while.”

Harris hums his agreement, eagerly unbuckling as soon as Eddie parks the car. He starts to run towards the field, and all Eddie can picture is him tripping and hurting himself again.

“Harris, don’t–” he starts, but he then remembers those magic words: “Walking feet, bud. Don’t want you breaking that other wrist.” He grabs the soccer ball from the trunk and kicks it in Harris’s direction.

Wayne pulls up in his truck a few moments later, almost as exuberant as his grandson. “Har-Bear!” he calls out, opening his arms wide for a hug. Harris picks up his pace, slowing down when he remembers his dad’s instructions.

“I’m using my walking feet!” he chirps proudly, and though they’re fast walking feet, Eddie beams at him.

Wayne squeezes Harris so tightly that Eddie worries he’ll inadvertently cut off his oxygen supply. When the boy starts squirming, Wayne laughs and puts him down.

“Go ahead and play,” Eddie tells his son. “Grampa Wayne and I are gonna catch up real quick.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as the two men sit on the bench, waiting for the other to say something first. Finally, Wayne breaks through the tension.

“Missed you two,” he murmurs, not looking at Eddie. “‘S too quiet around my place without that little rugrat.”

“We missed you, too,” Eddie admits, chewing on his thumbnail. “Harris won’t stop asking for Grampa Wayne.”

Wayne preens slightly at this, shifting in his seat. “This is the longest we’ve gone without talking since…”

“I know,” Eddie cuts him off, not wanting to revisit the part of his past that Wayne’s referencing. “I, uh, started working at Rock Records,” he tells him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It sucks, but it’s a job.”

He feels Wayne clap him on the shoulder, pulling him closer to him for a brief side hug. “I’m proud of you, Ed.” He purses his lips before asking, “and no more of the…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nope, I’m done with that. Returned the rest of what I had to Rick; told him I was out.” His gaze drops back to the ground, and he stares intently at the blades of grass as though they might disappear if he blinks. “But that might not matter anymore anyway, so…”

“The hell you talking about?” Wayne pinches his eyebrows together, adjusting his position to face his nephew.

Sighing, Eddie tells him about what happened at the hospital last week. Wayne’s eyes widen when he hears that they filed a report with CPS. “That’s some bullshit,” he mumbles, scratching at his gray beard. “Kids get hurt all the time. Can’t keep ‘em in a bubble.” He shakes his head incredulously. “They’re not gonna take him from you, okay? They’re gonna see how you provide for him, how great you are with him, and they’re gonna be sorry they wasted their time.”

“I’m not great with him,” Eddie mutters, standing up in a feeble attempt to exert some of his nervous energy. “I’m ruining his life.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “He had this teacher, and he adored her. Calls her ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’ And I was just…just a total asshole to her. I accused her of telling people about the CPS thing and said some really fucked up shit about her sick grandma and…fuck, Wayne. She had Harris transferred to another class just so she doesn’t have to deal with me. And now I have to say, ‘Hey, you know that teacher you fuckin’ loved? Well, she’s not your teacher any more, and it’s all my fault.’”

Wayne absorbs the information, contemplating what he says next. “So fix it,” he shrugs.

“It’s not that simple,” Eddie argues, plopping back down onto the bench in defeat. The wood digs into his lower back uncomfortably, so he stands up again.

“It’s not?” Wayne questions, digging a pack of Newports out of his jacket pocket and offering one to him. “Because it sounds to me like you owe this ‘Ms. Sweetheart’ an apology.”

Eddie takes a cigarette, toying with it before tucking it between his lips. It takes a few flicks of his old Bic lighter to get a spark, and he lets the nicotine calm his nerves before speaking again. “I don’t think she’ll forgive me.”

“Never said she would,” Wayne counters, plucking the Bic from Eddie’s hands and bringing the flame to light his own cigarette. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t apologize.”

Inhaling sharply, Eddie watches his son kick the ball around before letting out a slow, controlled exhale. “My boss asked if I could teach guitar lessons once or twice a week,” he says, using his empty hand to toy with the frayed holes in his jeans. “If…if you wanna, could you watch Harris? I can pay you.”

“Don’t insult me, boy,” Wayne scoffs, but a playful smile dances on his lips. “You’re not gonna pay me to watch my own grandson. Just let me know the day and time, and I’ll have a pot of mac and cheese ready to go.”

The pent-up tension dissipates from his body at Wayne’s easy agreement. An unspoken I love you floats between them, and he could cry from the sudden surge of relief.

“Daddy! Grampa!” Harris calls out from across the park. “Let’s play!”

Wayne stands up with a grunt, rolling his shoulders back to loosen them up. “You heard the man,” he jokes. “Up and at ‘em.”

It’s your first day off of work since the start of the school year, yet all you can think about are your students. Well, one particular student and his god-awful father. Eddie’s comment replays in your mind, cutting through you like the chilly mid-October air. The sting still hasn’t faded, despite it being three days since he’d said it.

You say goodbye to your grandma and Elise, her home health aid, grabbing your car keys and closing the door behind you. This morning was already overwhelming; Grandma had woken up at 5 AM, ready to start her day. The sound of her TV blasting at the highest possible volume jolted you from your sleep, and you’d spent the following twenty minutes trying to persuade her to go back to bed. Unsuccessfully, you might add.

You wince when you see your reflection in the rearview mirror. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, with pouches developing beneath them that only emphasize your exhaustion. You practice smiling a few times before starting the car, peeling out of the parking lot to meet Jess, Viv, and Jeff for lunch.

The pleasant aroma of burgers cooking on a grill wafts past your nose as you push open the doors to the restaurant. It isn’t too crowded when you arrive; you assume that the usual lunchtime rush is quelled by the Columbus Day holiday. Your new friends are already waiting at the table, waving you over excitedly.

“Hey,” you call out, forcing pleasantries into your otherwise flat tone. You slide into the seat next to Jess and across from Jeff. “How’s everyone been?”

“Better, now that I’m out of the first trimester,” Viv says with a small laugh. “Now that I have my appetite back, I’m definitely getting the grilled cheese.” She glances at the menu again, adding, “and a side of fries.”

Jess nods. “I think I’ll do the same.” She turns to you and her cheerful expression shifts to one of concern. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, just tired.” Your lackluster reply is unconvincing, but she doesn’t challenge it in front of Jeff and her sister. “Chasing after kids all day is wearing me out.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Viv exclaims, taking a sip of her water. “You’re a preschool teacher. The one with Eddie’s kid in your class!”

“Mhm,” you manage; the mere mention of Eddie’s name turns your throat into sandpaper. “Well, not any more, I guess.” Your throwaway comment is met with inquisitive stares, so you give the group a rundown of last week’s events, watching their eyes grow wide.

“He’s such a fucking douche,” Jess grumbles, resting her hand over yours. It feels like forever since you’ve experienced the simplicity of a kind gesture, and you have to swallow the emotion that comes with it.

“Seriously,” Viv agrees, looking over at Jeff. “Why were you even friends with him?”

Jeff lets out a terse chuckle and shakes his head. “Believe it or not, he actually used to be a good guy. The best, in my opinion.” Disappointment flashes across his face as he continues. “Something changed when he went to Chicago. He was always on-guard, had his walls up, but it used to be more of an ‘if you mess with me, I’ll mess with you’ attitude. But when he came back home, he was…different.”

“Different how?” Curiosity gets the best of you, and the question slips off of your tongue before you can stop it.

“It was like he was determined to hurt people before they could hurt him. No matter what I did, he never fully believed that I was on his side. I was constantly trying to prove that I wasn’t out to fuck him over.”

Viv drapes an arm over her fiancé’s shoulder. “How long did he live in Chicago, again?”

“Long enough to knock someone up,” Jeff muses, mind wandering for a moment before he brings himself back to the conversation. “About four years, I think? He left to chase his dreams of being a rockstar. Then one day, he shows back up in Hawkins with an infant, trying to act like nothing had changed.” He snorts at the very idea of it. “But it obviously did–I mean, besides the fact that he had a whole child, the rest of us had grown up, too. College, work, all that stuff.

“When he suggested getting Corroded Coffin back together, we figured, why not? It seemed like a decent way to chill out, blow off some steam at the end of the day.”

“Let me guess,” you chime in, cocking your head knowingly. “Eddie had other ideas.”

Jeff nods. “He still wanted to do the rockstar thing. And he’d always get angry at us because we didn’t. Not professionally, anyway. Kept mocking us for having 9-to-5 jobs, like it was the worst thing in the world.” He pauses, screwing up his face in contemplation. “Which, come to think of it, was weird. Because back in high school, he told me that it really messed with him, not having that stability growing up. Y’know, before Wayne took him in.”

There’s so much more you want to know, but the waiter striding over to the table to take orders brings the conversation to a natural conclusion. What you’ve gathered so far is that Eddie Munson is a many-layered man, each one more puzzling than the last. Despite your festering hurt and anger, you can’t help but hope that he untethers himself from his complicated past. If not for his sake, then for Harris’s.

“Daddy, what’s a new cents?”

Eddie’s taking the left turn onto the main road when he hears his son speaking from the back seat. “What’s new since when?” he asks, craning his head to check for oncoming traffic.

“Noooo,” Harris whines, letting out an exasperated sigh. Eddie has no clue where his new attitude came from, and he can’t say that he’s a fan. “A new cents.”

“That’s not a thing, buddy,” Eddie answers, starting to twist the radio knob.

“Yes, it is!” Harris insists, clearly growing frustrated. “Ms. Marion told Ms. Paula that I’m a ‘new cents.’”

It suddenly clicks for Eddie, and he grips the steering wheel tighter and hopes Harris doesn’t notice the edge in his voice. “You mean a nuisance?”

“That’s what I said!” Harris groans. “What does it mean?”

Eddie pushes past the question to ask one of his own. “What exactly did Ms. Marion say?” Maybe there was a misunderstanding, he reasons with himself.

But Harris’s answer only confirms his initial suspicion. “She looked at Ms. Paula and said, ‘this one’s a ‘new cents.’ An’ then she pointed to me.”

“Why the hell would she say that?” Eddie’s speaking to himself, but his son replies, still too young to grasp the concept of rhetorical questions.

“‘Cause of my shoes being untied. An’ she doesn’t like when I ask her to tie them.”

Eddie cringes. He’d meant to teach Harris how to tie his sneakers, but the lessons had to be put on hold when the kid had broken his wrist. Pausing before posing his next question, Eddie carefully selects his words. “Did…Did Ms. Sweetheart ever do that? Get mad about your shoes or call you a nuisance?”

“Nope,” Harris shakes his head. “An’ Mr. Will didn’t either.” And considering that his laces had always been tied in neat bows when Eddie arrived to pick him up, he can only assume that the two of you did this without a second thought. Jesus, why even bother to be a preschool teacher if you’re gonna bitch about tying shoes?

“So, what is it?” Harris snaps him from his thoughts.

“Huh?” Eddie’s right foot presses on the brake as he approaches a stop sign. “Oh. Um, I don’t know. Sorry, Har.” It’s the second time in as many days that he’s lied to him in order to spare his feelings. Yesterday, he’d waited until they were already in the school to tell Harris that he was picked for a super special project where he’d act as a secret agent in another class. He didn’t know whether to be proud or ashamed that he’d spent all night thinking of that excuse.

“‘S’okay,” Harris shrugs, raising and dropping his legs so they bounce off the bottom of his carseat. His ankles are exposed, and Eddie realizes that he must’ve grown. Again. Which means that he needs to scrape together some money and buy him new clothes. Again. “How much more days until I get to go back to Ms. Sweetheart’s class?”

“Not sure.” Lie number three. He flicks on the radio, the sounds of Ozzy effectively distracting Harris for the remainder of the car ride.

If only it was that easy to fool himself.

A harsh knock on your classroom door and the formality of your first and last name draws your attention from the mountain of paperwork on your desk. Will left thirty minutes ago with the rest of the TAs, so you’ve been sitting alone, humming a song you’d listened to on the car ride to work.

“Yes, that’s me,” you tell the tall man standing in the doorway. His intimidating stature and sullen disposition juxtapose the orange and yellow hues of autumn-themed artwork lining the walls. “Can I help you?”

He flashes a name tag as he steps into the classroom. “My name is Andrew Smith. I’m here on behalf of Child Protective Services to speak to you regarding one of your students…” he checks his notes, “Harris Munson.”

“Oh, um,” you stumble over your words, “he’s–he’s not my student any more. Not since Tuesday of this week.”

“Right,” the social worker nods slowly, patience already running thin, “but I briefly spoke with his new teacher, and she said that she didn’t have enough information to answer the questions, and directed me to your classroom.” When you don’t respond, he gives the legal rundown about the process and your obligations as a mandated reporter. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s proceed with this, shall we?” He clicks his pen, eyes boring a hole into you as he speaks. “How well would you say you know Harris’s father, Edward Munson?”

More intimately than you know, you bitterly think. “Fairly well. He dropped Harris off and picked him up every day.”

Mr. Smith scribbles that down. “Was Edward Munson punctual? Did he drop off and pick up Harris on time?”

“Yes,” you confirm, and your mind flickers back to the very first day of school. “There was only one time he was late for pick-up, but it’s common for that to happen once in a while with any parent.”

“Right, okay. And how would you describe Harris’s disposition around his father?”

“He adores him. He’s a generally happy kid, but he lights up around his dad. Or even when he’s just talking about him.” One lunchtime conversation in particular centered around how his dad could play anything on the guitar, even “Old MacDonald.” Harris had been bursting with excitement to report that Eddie made the funniest animal sounds, and you’d be lying if you’d said your interest wasn’t piqued. “I’ve never seen Harris act nervous or scared around him.”

Pen flies across the paper, and you swear he’s writing more than you’d even said. “Besides the broken wrist, did you ever notice any injuries or abnormal bruising anywhere on Harris’s body?”

You shake your head before realizing he’s waiting for a verbal response. “Nope, never. Just the usual bruises that come with being a kid.”

Mr. Smith cocks his eyebrow, pressing his lips together. “And where were those bruises located?”

Shit. Did you say too much? Why can’t you just shut up when you’re nervous? “Knees and calves?” You point to the spots on your own body, as though the social worker needs visual aides, while silently berating your own stupidity.

“And based on your interactions with him, how would you describe Edward Munson as a father?” It’s a loaded question, and its magnitude is a weight on your chest.

“Caring, attentive, very loving,” you answer honestly. “Responsible. Harris always showed up with lunch and a snack, bathed, clean clothes, whatever supplies he needed. I never worried that Harris was unsafe or in an unhealthy environment.” You force yourself to meet Mr. Smith’s gaze when you say the next part. “We, um, actually were at the hospital at the same time. My grandma got hurt, and we bumped into them when being discharged.”

This grabs his attention. “And did Mr. Munson appear to be impaired or otherwise behaving out of sorts?” The way he looks at you could easily be mistaken for a glare. “Under the influence of any substances, perhaps?”

“Not at all.” You keep your tone firm and even.

He shoves the paperwork at you, pointing to where your signature is required. “Thank you for your time,” he says flatly, leaving the room before you have time to reply. It seems nearly impossible to go back to the task you were working on before the interruption, but you try to push away the intrusive thoughts about everything that could possibly go wrong.

An hour later, the heavy-handed knock raps on the door to the Munson’s apartment. Eddie knows the drill; unfortunately, this isn’t his first run-in with Child Protective Services. He’s double, triple, quadruple-checked that every electrical outlet is covered, the matches and lighters are far from Harris’s reach, and there’s no remaining product from his recently-abandoned dealing days. The visit is technically unannounced, but since he’s not getting many visitors these days, there are limited options of who could be at his door.

“Edward Munson?” The social worker asks, giving him the same opening spiel he gave you. “I’ll just need to take a look around your home and make sure it’s a suitable living environment for your son.”

“Of course.” Eddie hopes he sounds more confident than he feels, but he can sense the waver in his voice. “Yeah, come on in.” He opens the door a bit wider and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, drawing unwanted attention from the social worker.

“Something the matter, Mr. Munson?”

“N-No,” Eddie insists, shaking his head. If he confesses to being nervous, this Smith guy could mistake it as an admission of guilt, and that’s the last thing he wants. “Just, um, long day?”

Smith recognizes the response with nothing more than a disbelieving glance as he makes his way through the apartment. Eddie watches silently, pushing down his anxiety with a thick swallow. His mind races when the social worker rummages through the refrigerator. Are there fruits and vegetables in there? Did I throw out that container of leftover spaghetti that overstayed its welcome? His stomach sinks when Smith marks something down in his notes but doesn’t have time to ruminate over it before Harris pokes his head out from the bedroom.

“Daddy? You gonna come back an’ play Hot Wheels with me?” His big brown eyes instantly melt Eddie’s heart, and all he wants to do is scream at the man, See? See how much my kid loves me? See how happy he is? Now, why don’t you go deal with the parents who actually deserve to lose custody and leave me to play with him.

Before Eddie can stop him, Harris traipses out and sees Smith rifling through the pantry. “Who’re you?” he asks.

“Har-Bear, this is Mr. Smith. He’s, uh, one of my friends.” Eddie scrunches his face and shakes his head defeatedly at the blatant lie, but Harris doesn’t notice.

Mr. Smith gives a short wave, neither kind nor impolite. Just one slight movement to acknowledge the boy’s presence. He’s determined to get back to his job, but Harris has other plans.

“I like your glasses.” He points to the wire-rimmed frames on the man’s face. “My Grampa Wayne is s’posed to wear glasses, but he doesn’t. Daddy says it’s ‘cause he’s a mule.”

“Stubborn as a mule, Har,” Eddie gently corrects him, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I’ll be in in a minute, okay?”

But Harris ignores his request, forging towards his dad’s friend. He lifts his arm and flashes an innocent smile. “Look at my cast! It’s from when I jumped on my bed and breaked my arm.”

“Harris!” Eddie hisses, trying to keep his cool. “Can you go play? In the room?” Pleading with him is like negotiating with a terrorist, and he knows his efforts are futile.

“Actually, I do need to take a look at Harris’s bedroom,” the social worker muses, tapping his pen against his lower lip. Eddie has to stifle a scoff at the charade that this just occurred to Smith. Like he didn’t have this mapped out, another bullet point on the list of uninformed judgments he needed to make.

“We, um, we share a room,” Eddie mumbles, as though there would be another possible reason as to why there’s a twin bed nestled into the same space as Harris’s race car bed. “I used to sleep on the couch, it’s just easier to be close to him when he has nightmares an’ stuff.” His heart races when Smith jots this down. “N-Not that he has nightmares a lot. I don’t let him watch scary movies or anything. Just normal kid stuff.”

The man nods, visibly irritated by his rambling. He clamps his mouth shut to inhibit the flow of unnecessary explanations that freely pass through his lips without a second thought.

Harris motions Smith over, using his uninjured hand to grab the stranger’s and leading him into the room. “That’s my bed,” he announces. It sounds like he’s giving a tour, and Eddie almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation. “And that’s where I falled,” Harris points to the unassuming patch of carpet alongside it.

“Ouch,” Smith mutters, and Eddie swears he can see a semblance of a smile. Leave it to Harris to thaw the most hardened of hearts. “I bet that hurt.”

“Yeah, but there was no blood,” Harris says nonchalantly. “An’ I didn’t need a shot. Just this cast. All my friends signed it. Even Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Ms. Sweetheart?” Smith repeats.

“She’s my teacher. Well, she was my teacher. Now I’m a super secret spy in Ms. Marion’s class, but don’t tell anyone!”

Eddie scoops up a couple of toy cars off of the floor and hands them to Harris, determined to end the conversation before anything else can be revealed. Can you get your kid taken away for being an asshole to his teacher? He doesn’t want to find out. “Here ya go, bud. Why don’t you get the racetrack set up, and I’ll play with you as soon as Mr. Smith leaves.”

“Actually,” Smith says, “I’m about finished. Mr. Munson,” he says, his natural stoicness settling back in as he turns back to Eddie, “after completing this investigation and conducting our interviews, I’ve determined that Harris may remain in your custody. I’ll just need you to sign a few forms and I’ll be on my way.”

Eddie’s relief is palpable. He sweeps Harris into a hug, clutching him to his chest and wordlessly swears to never put him back down. “Th-thank you,” he mumbles, acutely aware of the tears leaking from his eyes. “Wait–what interviews? No one interviewed me.”

Smith nods. “Yes, we spoke with Harris’s teacher. She only had great things to say about how well you take care of him.”

She did? He barely knows the woman; Harris has only been in her class for two full days, and she never indicated any partiality towards him. He makes a mental note to thank her tomorrow at drop-off. For now, all he wants to do is treasure every moment with his boy.

Eddie doesn’t want to let Harris out of his sight, but he begrudgingly takes him to school, not wanting to add a truancy charge to his growing list of misgivings.

Ms. Marion greets both Munsons with a muted stare, harsh enough to drain Harris of the excited energy that typically buzzes through his little body. “Are we going to listen today?” she quips.

“Yes,” Harris says.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harris’s affect is robotic and monotone, and the uncharacteristic spiritlessness nearly distracts Eddie from thanking the older woman for her interview.

“The guy–um, the social worker–he told me that you said some nice things about me. About how I am with Harris,” he stammers. “So, uh, thank you.”

Ms. Marion crosses her arms over her faded pink sweater, pursing her overlined lips. Her forehead is marred with frown lines. “That wasn’t me, Mr. Munson. I directed him to speak to Harris’s previous teacher, since she spent more time with him.”

Ms. Sweetheart.

After everything he’d said and done, you’d still vouched for him. Spoken so highly of his parenting abilities that CPS allowed him to keep custody of his son. You could’ve easily ruined his life, but you didn’t.

What Eddie doesn’t understand is why.

Perhaps he doesn’t need to; at least, not immediately. Right now, he just needs to fix this. And he knows exactly where to start.

Friday marks one week since your blowout fight with Eddie. One week since he’d caught you pathetically crying in your car because of the venom he’d spewed. One week since you’d informed him that you’d had Harris transferred to another class.

Which is why you’re confused when the boy bounds up to your classroom door, shouting, “Ms. Sweetheart! Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Hey, Harris,” you greet him, unable to mask your confusion. “What are you doing here? You’re in Ms. Marion’s class now, remember?”

Harris nods, his curls bouncing with each movement. He drops his backpack to the floor with a thud and unfastens the zipper, tongue poking from between his lips as he digs through it to brandish a cassette. “This is for you.”

You take it from him, eyes widening as you take in Toni Braxton’s face staring back at you. “Harris…where did you get this?”

“My daddy put it there and said to give it to you. So I did,” he answers with a shrug. He looks up at you, innocuous and angelic as he adds, “I miss you. I wish you could be my teacher again.”

“Me, too,” you reply before thinking. Clearing your throat, you kneel down to meet him at his height. “Thank you for my gift. It was very sweet. Go ahead and head to class now, okay? I don’t want you to be late.”

“Mmkay!” he chirps, slinging his still-opened bag over his shoulder. “Bye, Ms. Sweetheart.”

Why would Eddie buy you a tape? Why this tape, the one you’d come in for when he’d said such malicious things to you? You can’t make sense of it, regardless of how many times you try to piece together the puzzle.

At dismissal, you find yourself waiting by the door, hoping to catch Eddie before he can dash out of the school. There’s no logic to his actions: he despised you enough to weaponize your grandma’s cognitive decline, and then he gives you a gift with no further explanation.

You distractedly hand parents the sign-out sheet, barely registering when Joshua Harrington’s dad asks you about any upcoming plans for a class Halloween party.

“Is there gonna be a list of things you need? Candy or cupcakes or something?”

“Oh, uh, I’m gonna send home information about that next week,” you stumble over your words as you try not to make it obvious that your mind is elsewhere.

“Great,” he says, stretching out the word as he tracks your gaze to the spot behind him. “Everything okay?”

“Yup.” You slap a smile on your face just as you spot the mane of frizzy curls you’d been searching for. “Um, excuse me for a second.” You call out to Will, letting him know you’ll be right back, before sprinting down the hallway.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris’s eager face twists into a frown. “You gotta use your walking feet in school. Or you could get hurt.”

Eddie moves to correct him, but you just smile sweetly. “You’re right, Harris. Thanks for reminding me.”

You allow your gaze to travel upwards, eyes locking onto Eddie’s. You can’t quite read his expression; his brows are furrowed in confusion but the flush in his face indicates that he knows why you’re here.

“Harris gave me the tape. The Toni Braxton one.” Like he’d gifted you myriad cassettes that required this distinction. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t mention it.” The right corner of his lips turns up into a half-smile. “Besides, I should probably be the one thanking you.”

“Me?” What is he talking about? As far as you know, you’re the bane of his existence.

“Yeah. For, uh, what you said to that social worker guy. Even after I treated you like a piece of…” he presses his palms to Harris’s ears and lowers his voice, “shit.”

That makes sense; he was relieved that you’d sang his praises when it had mattered most. This was an expression of gratitude; nothing more and nothing less.

“You’re a good parent, even if you’re mean to me,” you say nonchalantly. “I wasn’t going to make up lies and ruin your lives out of spite.”

The statement hangs in the air, gathering an awkward silence that has you and Eddie both grappling for ways to end the conversation.

He’s the one to interject. “Well, anyway, I hope you like the tape.”

“Mhm.” It’s all you allow yourself to utter in front of Harris. A thousand questions swarm your head, threatening to spill off your tongue, the first of which is simply: why? “I’ve gotta get back. But, um, enjoy your weekend.” You pivot on your heel before Eddie can wish you the same. With the necessary chaos of your life, you can’t invest any more time trying to unravel him.

“Daddy, when is Ms. Sweetheart gonna be my teacher again?”

Eddie knew it was inevitable that Harris would ask about going back to your class, but he thought he’d bought himself more time with the spy game he’d concocted. He can’t delay the truth any longer.

“I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t think you can switch back.” There’s a pang in his heart when his son drops his hand, digging his heels into the parking lot asphalt.

“Is it because you were mean to her?”

His question catches Eddie off-guard. “Wh-What?”

“In there,” Harris points towards the school, “she said you’re mean to her.” He squints when he looks up at his father, the midday sun shining in his eyes. “Why were you mean?”

Eddie exhales, puffing out his cheeks and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes grownups accidentally hurt each others’ feelings.” Or purposely, in his case, but he omits the complexities from his explanation. He reaches out to once again take Harris’s hand, but the boy pulls back.

“Ms. Sweetheart says that when we hurt someone’s feelings, we gotta say sorry. Even if it’s on accident.”

“I did,” Eddie counters, raising his brows. “I gave her the tape.”

But Harris remains unconvinced. “That’s not saying sorry. You gotta actually say it. Or else it doesn’t count.”

“It doesn’t count, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue and puts his hands on his hips. “All right, I’ll say it the next time I see her.”

“And then you can be friends?” The question is posed innocently, but it rattles Eddie. Friends? Did he even know how to be a decent friend any more? He’d fucked it all up with Gareth, Jeff, and Danny, and he’s known them for forever. “Daddy?” “Uh, maybe,” Eddie replies meekly; this time, Harris grabs his hand when he offers it. “We’ll just have to see.”

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angelcqre · 5 months

Text

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

The car accident least of all. His gaze is on you, intense and scathing, watching you as you struggle to not break down in tears. He knows you can’t afford the damage to your own car, much less his, and for a moment, he simply.. watches, lips twisted in wry amusement as he approaches you.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I didn’t see you, I’m so sorry I’m-;”

He cuts you off before you can blubber any further onto him, his voice soft and low and amused.

“Sweetheart, relax,” His lips quirk up, and it’s then that you realize that this is Bruce *fucking* Wayne, billionaire recluse who’s hand in philanthropy is beginning to show in the recovering ashes of the riddler’s attack on Gotham. “I’ll take care of it. Are you hurt?”

His hands are steady as they tilt your chin upwards, his eyes searching and intense and dark even now, but the smile that he offers you is comforting enough, thumb shifting to brush a stray tear off your cheek.

Your skin is soft.

It’s the first thing he notices - sure, it had looked soft enough from afar, but under his calloused fingertips, your hands are like silk, sheer heaven and for a moment, he considers keeping you, considers taking you home right here and now, but instead, he sets his gaze on the car behind you, already battered and the accident hasn’t helped. It was your fault, he knows this, and just as much, he knows you won’t be able to fix it.

“What’s your name?”

You babble out your name, trembling hands moving to cup his wrists, the stability that he exudes enough to be infectious, and when he hears it, it’s like music to his ears, his heart lurching in a sensation of simple

There you are.

“It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Bruce,”

You know. Of course you know, however reclusive he is, his face is plastered over the news constantly, especially now that he’s got his finger in the pie that is Gotham’s premier charities, bankrolled almost entirely by the Wayne foundation.

He decides, then and there, that you’ll do nicely as a pet project. Still wiping at your tears, he leans in, tall frame curling in to meet yours, shifting his expression to be as reassuring as possible. He’s not.. socially adept, not as much as he should be, but he knows this one, awkward as it is.

“I’ll get this taken care of. Don’t worry. Why don’t you get lunch with me in the meantime?,”

Already, he’s got Alfred sending tow trucks, scheduling mechanics, ordering parts. It’s not difficult for him to recognize the make of your car, the model, the year, and that’s sent off too, a flick of his wrist and a murmur into his earpiece.

You nod - of course you do, it’s not like you have any choice in the matter, and you’re whisked off to The Ocelot, corner table, assured that the ratty jeans and top he’s sure was ordered off of Amazon or SHEIN or whatever the fuck else are fine for the restaurant, love, you’re with him and it’s not like The Ocelot serves lunch anyways.

They do. Any reservations have been rescheduled, so it’s just you and him in there anyways, and it’s hardly like you’d know the difference either way.

So he sits, and he listens, watches the way your lips part to form each lovely syllable, growing more animated and less despondent when you realize that no, this isn’t a trick, that he really is going to take care of it and not sue you.

All in all, he really seems like a nice guy. Quiet, but he’s got a good sense of humor, and you like the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. At least, you tell him so, a little tipsy on the most expensive bottle of wine you’ve ever had the privilege to drink, full of food that he insisted on ordering for you if only to let you try the best things on the menu.

So when he offers to drop you off at your apartment, you enthusiastically agree to it, not realizing that he’s taking note of the building, the door number, the sound your lock makes as the key slots into the mechanism.

From then, you.. begin to date Billionaire Philanthropist Bruce Wayne. He’s perfectly nice, respectful and polite and honestly more than a little old fashioned, and maybe you like that, the way he insists on opening car doors for you, the way that he sends you clothing and jewelry and purses to bring along any time he invites you out.

Every invitation to a gala or charity ball is extended to you, if only for the opportunity to dress you up like a little doll, put you in expensive clothing and jewelry and coo at you, murmuring praise against the curve of your neck every time he ducks from the view of the cameras that always seem to follow him.

Nothing is too expensive for him, and though you do attempt to protest, he seems gleeful in his gifts to you, the urge to shower you with presents to endear himself to you only hampered by Alfred’s firm guidance on ‘proper courting’.

He.. rarely calls you by your name.

Always pet names, with him, always terms of endearment and suggestions of possession that you end up finding yourself flushing at, the nigh reverence in his tone enough to leave you leaning into him and pressing sweet, loving kisses to his cheek and jawline.

You’re untouched by the corruption that seems to seep into every crevice that Gotham’s foundations. Pure, in a way, so sweet and kind and good that he can’t help but want to protect you, finds himself going out of his way as the bat to ensure you get home safely from work.

Fuck, and maybe he breaks into your apartment once or twice, purely investigative, nothing perverse, he tells himself, inspecting a pair of panties that he really has no business touching. The sense of growing discomfort in his nether regions are enough of an excuse that he strips then and there, pumps his cock on your bed surrounded by the scent of you, imagining you on top of him, under him, gasping his name and begging to be filled and looking at him with dewy, glazed over, lust filled eyes.

He swears it’s not perverse.

Swears to *god* as he cums into another pair of panties, a pair he knows for sure he’s bought for you, and tucks them neatly back into your underwear drawer, shoving the first pair into a pouch in his belt.

Absolutely justifiable losses.

You’re so oblivious to it.

That’s what gets him more than anything else - how oblivious you are, how clueless you are to how many robberies he stops in their tracks, each interception before you’re targeted enough that you genuinely think that the city is getting safer, better.

You tell him about it over lunch, pointing at him with your fork, mouth half full of salad, and your manners are atrocious but he can’t help the way it makes him chuckle, dark eyes crinkling with warmth.

“I’m serious! I don’t - okay, look, vigilantes are bad, but like..,” A pause, for you to actually swallow, outrage flashing in your eyes as he delves into straight up laughter. “I don’t know! Maybe this guy - Batman, or whatever - maybe he’s doing something good for the city,”

He can only shrug in response - keeping his fantasies of you private and locked down.

And, really, the stalking keeping an eye on you comes in handy, inevitably, especially with how you tend to prefer walking home to anything actually sensical. He’d offered you a car to borrow while yours is being repaired, but you’d seemed hesitant with the expensive make, had smiled and said that your job wasn’t that far away, really, and it’s not as if you aren’t familiar with gotham - you’ve lived here for years, and you’ve been just fine.

It’s just a joyboy - nobody especially powerful, but his heart still wrenches all the same when he sees the gun aimed at your head, and he can’t stop himself from dropping on top of the aggressor, beating him to a bloody pulp and then some, his vision white with with rage and a level of possessiveness that he can’t quite comprehend.

All that’s running through his head is a pervasive sense of drive, a need to keep himself from losing anybody else, so when the man under him finally collapses, and he leans back to look at you, it takes a moment for his senses to settle back in, for the blood rushing through his ears to lower from the roar.

He realizes you’re speaking, babbling in the same way you did when he first met you, and the memory is enough to bring a wry twist of his lips, amusement flashing in those dark, masked eyes.

“And I was just walking - I’m sorry, are you hurt? Did he hurt you? Oh my god, are you bleeding?,”

There isn’t any fear in your eyes, but your eyes are glued to the gun in the perp’s hand, the smoke rising off of it, and he idly realizes that he must have fired it in the fall.

The bat rises, that twist of his lips compelling and familiar, and strides towards you, assessing you with a familiar sort of scrutiny.

You’re bleeding.

“Relax, I’ll take care of it. Are you hurt?”

He sees the recognition in your eyes the second it lights up and knows he’s made a mistake. Sure, you’re not as smart as he is, very few people are, but you’re not stupid, and that mistake causes his breath to catch in his throat as your lips part, a strangled sort of bark of laughter coming from you.

“That’s funny - you sounded just like my boyfriend just then. Isn’t that.. funny..?,”

You look like you’re about to bolt. The bat sees the tensing of your muscles and takes a step forward before you can, his hand stabbing out to grasp at your arm. He’s erred, he’s erred *bad*, and the little gasp of pain that you make is just another tally in the ever increasing lineup.

“Bruce?,”

And now you’ve gone and done it, and the fear you’re experiencing is genuine, the wobble in your voice and the suddenly glassy eyes evidence enough that there’s no going back from this.

The strike to the side of your throat is an instinctual one, the edge of his hand snapping out quick enough that you don’t even flinch, falling unconscious and right into his awaiting arms. It’s reverent, how he carries you, though he doubts you’ll ever notice with how hard you’re out.

That deep, deep sleep is a gift for Bruce. He hasn’t - he won’t - take you, but that refusal doesn’t extend to certain other courtesies. You’re ignorant of the way his hands slide up the skin of your torso, ignorant of the cold sensation of his fingertips against your warm body, ignorant of how he pulls off the worn tee first.

It’s reverence, the way his tongue laves over the hollow of your throat, the way each kiss is pressed onto the edge of your jaw, his eyes half lidded and his gaze glued to you. Careful, so careful - you’re delicate, after all - but still, his fingers press into your hips, savoring the plush yield of your curves.

Already, he’s fantasizing it, breeding you and filling you with heirs,

You wake up slowly, at first, and then all at once, unaware of your surroundings and clearly more than a little out of it. Bruce has deigned to leave you alone, for this part, and he watches you through one of the cameras he’s embedded in the room you’re in, studies the way your eyes seem glued shut, the way you almost turn over and fall back asleep.

And then you realize that you’re not in your own bed, and you’re a bit more dedicate to getting up.

It’s a lot more luxurious than you’re used to, and it’s also definitely *not* your bedroom. The sheets aren’t yours, don’t smell familiar, the walls and the curtains are a different color, and the room in and of itself is too damn big - you could probably fit your entire apartment in the square footage, to say nothing of the en-suite that you’re already peering at.

No, focus.

You strip off the comforters, realizing with horror that you’re not even wearing your own clothing, some designer loungewear and nothing underneath. You fight the urge to scream, running your hand through your hair, and stride towards the closed door, heavy oak and thick.

Locked. Doesn’t budge no matter how you wiggle it, not even under the entirety of your weight. No matter what you do, pounding, shouting, slamming, it doesn’t open. You even try running at it, like they do on TV, and that mostly just gives you a sore shoulder and knocks the wind out of you.

So… you investigate the room. Maybe you should’ve done that first, but the panic rushing through your veins has subsided, led to a sort of clarity that has you checking the windows, realizing they’re reinforced - definitely not glass, you realize after you’ve attempted to shatter it. Not like it’d matter, there’s wrought iron bars over each of them, way too thinly placed for you to even think of slipping out.

The room is.. nice, even if there’s a genuine discomfort in being locked in them. Plush carpet under your bare feet, a television, an en-suite bathroom.. you can almost imagine that you’re in some swanky hotel with Bruce, almost fool yourself into the perception that you’re definitely not on the verge of, like, death or disembowelment or whatever the plans for you are. There’s even a bookshelf, stacked high with classics and.. quite a few raunchy romance novels, all almost thirty years old and scrawled with the name ‘Martha’.

You end up settling on a book of old myths, curling up in the bed, and by the time that you’ve read a good couple, you’ve suitably calmed down, and that’s when he makes his entrance.

“Sweetheart,”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice isn’t quite comforting enough that you don’t throw the book in your hand at his head, and when he catches it, you wince, shrinking back into the pile of pillows as he carefully, carefully moves towards you.

“Bruce? I don’t - where *am* I? What’s going on?,”

He hushes you, draws you into those deceptively strong arms and holds you, pressing his lips to the top of your head, and instinctively, you relax into his grasp, muscle memory powerful enough to override the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears. You huff, and lean into him, soothed for a moment. He speaks, then, always so patient, so tender, his hand reaching up to pet at your hair.

“It was always a risk, letting you run around gotham like I did, but I thought I could protect you.”

You stiffen.

He continues to pet you, his voice soft against the crown of your head, low and worn in the way it always is.

“This city is corrupt, sweetheart, and I need to know you’ll be safe,”

You try to draw back, but the cage of his arms is steel, and he holds you close to him, chest to chest, his hands cold.

“So I’ll keep you here. With me.”

#Bruce Wayne x reader #yandere bruce Wayne #yandere Batman #yandere Batman x reader

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glittering-moonlillie · 1 year

Text

My Beloved (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Word Count: 2740

Warnings: None

Summary: Not knowing how to express his feelings any other way, Damian resorts to calling you pet names in his mother's tongue in order to air out his pent up affection.

“Habibti, can you hand me the yellow frosting?” Damian was in deep trouble - absolutely terrible, hideous trouble.

“Of course!” You reached over to your left and handed him the buttercream, the arabic pet name flying over your head.

In his language, Habibti was a sign of endearment given to your lover, usually meaning something along the lines of My Love or Darling - but to you, he was utterly convinced that you believed it was a form of belittlement similar to Idiot.

Of course, Damian was too afraid to correct you and he was not sure if you would believe him if he tried. He would rather keep it a sweet secret to himself, even if his fragile heart was practically leaping its way out of his rib cage to expose itself to you.

“You know, if you want to call me something mean at least make it so I can understand you.” You laughed, a noise that would certainly haunt him late at night when he was alone and longed for your presence.

“But it’s much more fun seeing you like this.” You scruched your nose, your forehead creasing with the movement. Your lips were parted but no words came out. It was an adorable look he had grown to love despite how dorky you appeared.

You retaliated with a poorly placed handful of orange frosting along his cheek, your lips twisting into a pout that only served to make the fantasies of kissing you worsen.

Orange was an obnoxiously disgusting color but he would bathe in a lazarus pit full of orange frosting if you wished it.

He ran his thumb along his cheek and licked away whatever frosting was there. Alfred’s special buttercream frosting really was to die for. Damian enjoyed the way your eyes slightly widened, relishing in the fact that it wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else. He liked to think that the scarlet decorating your face was because of him being undoubtedly sexy, and not the fact that it was because it was a hot summer’s day.

“You’re staring, ya amar.” He smirked. “And I believe that cookie has way too much frosting, it looks like Picaso threw up all over it.”

Ya Amar had to be Damian’s second favorite pet name for you, translating to my moon. He often recalled the way his mother praised the moon for its beauty, treating it similar to a guiding life force. More than anything, Damian wanted to be the sun that illuminated your countenance - to be the man who kept you steady and loved you even if you just saw yourself as a clumpy rock. The name suited you perfectly. You were his beautiful, crated moon with star imbued eyes and a body that reflected the power of an inescapable black hole.

“Hey, are those cookies almost finished? B wants them set out within the hour-” Tim walked in, his under eye bags accentuated further with the distasteful dark blue sweater he threw on.

His brother paused, rolling his eyes at the state of the dining table. Damian hoped that the kitchen disaster was enough of a distraction for him not to notice the lovey-dovey eyes he assuredly was giving his best friend.

“We’ll clean it up, Tim. Sorry about that.” You replied quickly. “But most of the cookies are done, Damian still has a few to finish though.”

You nudged him with your elbow, grinning wildly like the Cheshire cat.

“Just don’t get distracted flirting with each other, I don’t want to deal with an irritated Bruce.”

“Shut up, Timothy. At least we aren’t aggressively making out like how you and Conner were at the last gala.” Damian shot back.

Tim frowned. “I’m too tired to deal with this. Try not to explode anything, okay?”

Damian waved off his brother and went back to decorating one of the cookies for the large event at Wayne Manor tonight. It was a charity event to raise awareness of the increase in homeless population on the streets of Gotham, and alongside the event, his family was hosting a soup kitchen for any struggling person on the streets. Along with a hearty, full course meal, they would be served one of the cookies being decorated by the two of you.

Although Damian’s father normally did not allow any friend’s to charity events, you were always an exception due to the fact that if you weren’t there, Damian would blow a gasket and murder someone if he was in a suit for too long. Your presence beside Damian was often looked over when you were both younger, but now that a few years had gone by plenty of journalists speculated the possibility of “a secret blooming relationship.”

The common theory circulating around Gotham was the idea that his father was disapproving of them being together since you were a “commoner,” therefore excusing the lack of concrete evidence of the relationship existing. Damian had found the notion completely ridiculous; even if his father disapproved of you in that context, that would not stop him from loving you the way he always dreamed, consequences be damned.

You treated the whole situation with carefree ease, giggling at the awful pictures and wack job theories concocted by 40 year old men looking to sell half-baked news. On one hand, Damian was pleased that the unwanted attention did not bother you, but deep down he also felt a pang of poison seep its way into his bloodstream. Was the idea of being his lover that much of a joke?

The clicking of a phone keyboard brought him back to reality. Damian peered over your shoulder and saw Safari pulled up.

“What ever are you doing, habibti?”

“I’m trying to decipher what you are calling me.” You said. “Can you repeat that last word for me, please?”

The youngest Wayne felt every single pour in his body drip in sweat, excess saliva pooling in his mouth. Perhaps if his blood was functioning properly, then he would have found a better response other than a simple no.

It was very rare for Damian to be properly caught off guard. He should have thought that you would have looked up the words he was repeating, should have come up with a game plan instead of looking like a strangled goose.

His first instinct was to snatch the phone away and cut it up with the plastic, buttercream decorated knife. Damian could pretend to be possessed by a ghost and buy you a better phone with specially installed programs that inhibited your ability to look up any Arabic term. Yes, that was a wonderful idea-

“How are there zero search results?!!” You exclaimed, turning to him. “Did you make up a language or something? Why are there absolutely zero results??”

Damian looked at your phone again. You certainly took some liberties with the spelling of the pet name, letting him relax into his seat. It was nowhere close to how the word was spelled. He couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Why are there two y’s in the word?”

Your cheeks flushed. “Well maybe if you told me the other 20 languages you spoke I’d get somewhere.”

For the next 15 minutes, you angrily punched in 17 different ways to spell Habibti, all massively incorrect and leading to nowhere. You eventually threw your phone on the ground with a huff while he cackled.

“This is so unfair. I demand restitution for the amount of time I have lost thanks to you.” Damian hummed.

“I can’t give you back those missing minutes, but I can pay you back with your favorite meal and my full attention tonight.”

You pretended to ponder over the offer, but Damian knew you could not say no to Alfred’s cooking. “Okay, fine. But only because I love Alfred’s food and nothing else.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moon peered over the horizon, the stars twinkling like falling fairy dust on a navy blue canvas. Hundreds of Gotham’s richest filled Wayne Manor, most of which were dressed with gaudy colors and bedazzlements, with feathers and overpriced jewels.

Damian was dressed in a dark green suit, one that Alfred had picked a little while ago. He was fully aware of the lustful stares he was given by the woman (and some of the men) there but he could care less. There was only one person he cared about impressing and that said person was “discreetly” stuffing themselves with a plate full of food in the corner.

As an attendant of the Gala, you were in a stunning dress that fit every single curve of your body marvelously, all courtesy to Stephanie who helped you pick out the dress to begin with. Heat rose to his cheeks and he began fumbling with his tie.

Damian was not the only one there to notice your beauty either. As you were trying to polish off your plate of food, several men had made attempts to woo you onto the dancefloor. Thankfully you declined all of their advances - Damian was not sure what he would have felt if you did. If it weren’t for the hundreds of other people present, he would have unquestionably sliced off the suitors hands if they tried to touch you again.

“Ya Helo, you look…” His throat clogged as you stared up at him. “You look stunning…”

Damian was convinced that your smile was the brightest thing in the universe; he was also sure that it could cure any bout of irritation or sadness possible.

“About time you showed up! Are you done flirting with the 70 year old women yet or does your dad want you back in there?” You poked his chest, the touch feeling like an electrical transfer.

“You know that I would never flirt with those women back there, Habibti. My dad just wanted me to manipulate them into giving more of their money to charity.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he clasped it and brought it closer to his heartbeat. Your hands were a pebble compared to his own and yet they still managed to fit perfectly together like Incan architecture.

“I-I…” You looked away with a crooked smile. “I know that, obviously. I just wanted to tease you a bit!”

When you turned towards him once more, he noticed the way your eyes trailed down his visage, strawberry lips parting ever so slightly. Your laughter died in your throat. The scene felt like the ridiculous romcoms he analyzed from time to time while you were over. All he had to do was lean in a little bit closer and his dreams would be fulfilled-

The tight grip of someone’s hand seized his arm, effectively pulling him away from his darling. The movement caught Damian off guard (the second time that day). There was only a select handful of people who were able to sneak up on him like that…

“Mother.” Damian seethed, turning to gaze upon the woman with a cold glare. “What are you doing here?”

Fitted for the occasion in a sleek black dress, Talia crossed her arms and matched her son’s glare. “Is a mother not allowed to visit her son, especially when he has not messaged her in months?”

Damian stood in front of you, his hands slightly raised in case Talia decided to activate her mother bear mode. Talia’s eyes furrowed, her lip pursing.

“How about you and your little friend follow me upstairs. You can tell me all about how you two met.” She suggested but her voice made it sound more like a threat.

Damian hated how your smile disappeared and was replaced with an apprehensive grimace. He reached for your hand and squeezed.

“Dami…”

“It’ll be alright habib albi…” He whispered, squeezing your hand once again. As the three of them climbed up the stairs, the soft tune of the violin faded into nothing, not even background noise.

“Mother, I find this hardly necessary. Could you have interfered in my life some other day?” Damian groaned.

“Of course not, my son.” Talia shut the door of the room they entered. “If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to meet the girl who stole my beloved’s heart.”

Damian’s heart dropped. “I- what?”

“Y-you must be mistaken. Damian and I…Damian doesn’t like me like that!” You stuttered out with nervous laughter.

Talia raised a single eyebrow. “I find that extremely hard to believe considering what I heard him call you.”

Fuck. Damian mentally slapped himself. He should have known that his mother would have heard him call you that. The pet name was just so natural to him, slipping off his tongue like sweet honey, he forgot that his mother would have been able to understand.

You tilted your head towards Damian then back to Talia, reflexively playing with your hair. “I…maybe you misheard? He calls me these made up names, they really have no meaning.”

“Wait, so he has not told you what they meant?”

“No, he refused to tell me and when I looked it up, there were no search results.” You said.

“Mother, please-”

Talia raised her hand to silence him. “I can’t believe you have been lying to her, Damian! I have raised you better than that. She deserves to know that you are calling her Love of my heart and Darling in Arabic!”

You snapped your head towards Damian, who was internally screaming a colorful variety of cuss words towards his mother. He expected you to look horrified and slap him away, to run for the hills and never speak to him again.

Instead you had this beautiful awestruck look in your galaxy-filled eyes. Your face was a deep crimson.

“Dami…” You hesitated. “Is this true?”

The hopeful tone in your voice was as intoxicating as a few shots of bourbon.

Damian imagined that the day he confessed to you would be atop a starry hill with perfectly blooming jasmines and evening primroses. He would pull you into his arms and whisper his love for you when the moon was at its peak, ending it with a kiss if you let him. It would have been perfect, if fate allowed it to be.

However, there were no starry hilltops or sweetly smelling fragrances - no moon that would peer over them and give its blessing. But you were there with him, an arm's reach away. As long as you were there, wasn't that all that mattered?

Damian glared at his mother, who was in the background with a smug smile, pretending to not overhear the conversation. When she didn’t get the message, he cleared his throat as loud as he could.

“Fine. I suppose I’ll leave you to it - but I expect you to message me afterward since I did the hard work for you.” Talia sauntered her way out of the room, leaving you and Damian alone.

“You didn’t answer my question, Dami…” You glanced up at him with a shy smile. “Were you really secretly giving me pet names in Arabic?”

Reaching for your hands, Damian pulled you close to create a few inch gap. “Yeah…I wanted a way to show you how much I…how much I loved you without you figuring out.”

You giggled, the vibrations of it causing his heart to flutter. “You’re a dork, you know that? I would have reciprocated your feelings no matter what, but it would have been nice if you had told me sooner.”

Your finger trailed down his neck to his collarbone, leaving a trail of lightning in its wake. “I demand more restitution for the time lost.”

Damian hummed, pretending to think of the perfect solution despite him already having one. You edged closer to him.

“How about,” he began, “I kiss you until your lips are as blue as this night sky?”

But before you could respond, Damian already brought his lips to yours. The dreams and fantasies he had did not live up to the actual softness of your lips - the subtle taste of raspberries filling his senses.

Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. “Shouldn’t we go back to the Gala?”

Damian looked back at the door, contemplating how mad his father would be if he ditched the rest of the party. It was waning closer to midnight anyway and he could just say you were tired.

He turned back to you, his smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “He’ll be fine. Besides, I would rather be with you than flirt with 70 year old women.”

Your attempted giggle was covered with the rougher press of his lips against yours, causing you to fall backwards onto the guest bed. After years of calling you Habibti, now he could finally say it without you thinking it was an insult.

Damian is a simp with huge dimples. Fight me.

#Damian Wayne #Damian Wayne x Reader #Damian Al Ghul #Damian Al Ghul x Reader #Damian Wayne x Y/n #Romance #Damian has dimples!!#DC #Batfam #Fluff #Damian speaking Arabic #Arabic pet names #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Alfred Pennyworth #Tim Drake makes an appearance out of his tomb #Comics

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igotanidea · 10 months

Text

Mine: AK!Jason x reader

Is it second update today? Yes. But I'm on a roll and I simply cannot keep @thesandsofelsweyr waiting anymore (thank you for requesting!)

Summary/request: "why are you shaking" angst with AK! Jason

Warning: a bit smut-ish, but nothing explicit. (not in this part at least....)

***

„Why are you shaking?” he didn’t even bother taking his helmet off and the distorted voice coming from it really did make her tremble. Not that she was going to admit it, even though he was angry at her.

“I’m… I’m not.” she stuttered

“Stop lying to me!” oh, shit, he was angry. What about? Did she do something? Or did his other mission went south? Again? He wasn’t telling her anything, how the hell was she supposed to guess what got him spinning?

“I’m sorry.” She squealed and took a step back, slouching to make herself smaller “I….”

“What did you do?” he hissed

“No…. nothing, I swear…..”

“Nothing?” he took another step forward, the words hanging in the air like an axe that could fall onto her neck in a second. She had to be extremely careful at the moment. “Nothing, princess?”

“I…..”

“so you are trying to tell me, you weren’t fantasizing about your past life? Hm?”

“Jace, I…..”

“Stop calling me that!” he yelled, grabbing her arm and shaking her violently, getting another broken sob which she could not hold back “it’s not who I am anymore!”

“But you are….” She tried to calm him, but it was for nothing

“I don’t know what little fantasy you got in your head, but let me tell you: it’s not gonna come true.”

“please….” she begged struggling against his bruising grip

“Look around, Y/N. See where you are? This is Arkham. Not Wayne Manor.”

“I know… I know… I…..”

“Shut up! When will it get into your silly little head?! No one, no one is coming to save you!

“I don’t need to be saved….. I’m with you and ……”

“Me?” he laughed viciously “you still think you can save me? Oh, honey.” He raised his gloved hand and brushed her cheek, but it was more threatening than loving and she shook upon the harsh feeling “such a delusional, brainwashed, stupid girl, aren’t you? Batman won’t rescue you! And neither will Robin. And definitely not Nightwing! Oh… “sudden realization hit him “that’s who you were thinking about while touching yourself weren’t you?” those cameras he had all over Asylum were not for nothing. “Did those silly dirty thoughts make you come?”

“Wha….. what? I didn’t …… How…..?”

“STOP LYING TO ME!” he yelled again, this time in full voice and a few tears fell down her cheeks. He still didn’t believe she loved him. HIM. Not his brother. His twisted mind worked in two completely opposite directions. On one hand he was jealous and possessive and wanted her under him, wanted to love her, on the other abused and threatened her, convinced that those were the only methods of keeping her. Jason was simply too afraid of letting her lose, worried that the second he let go she would run away, not wanting to stay with the monster like him. He believed he needed to force her to love him, no matter how much she assured him it was different.

How wrong he was.

And it made her angry and desperate. Determined enough to sacrifice her own health and safety to prove that to him.

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE ABOUT NIGHTWING! I DON’T FUCKING CARE!” she yelled through the tears, not caring about the consequences of that outburst. “I don’t….. it’s you…. It’s…..” her voice broke, as well as her legs and she found herself on the floor, unable to stand anymore.

Well, not for long, since Jason grabbed her arm and yanked her back to her feet, pressing her back to the wall. For a moment they just stayed like that and then he removed his helmet, finally reveling his face, those beautiful eyes conveying so many mutually exclusive emotions. With one hand he tossed it to the floor, not caring anymore and she trembled, suddenly fully aware how close he was and how many pain he could bring her.

Not more than Harley though.

“Y/N….” he whispered “Y/N, Y/n, Y/n…..” her name fell from his lips like a silent prayer.

“I’m ready for my punishment now.” she closed her eyes

“You’re such a good little pet, aren’t you?” he laughed condescendingly “are you scared of me?” he removed one of his glove and traced her trembling bottom lip.

“No.”

“You should be.” he whispered those cliché words and not giving her any opportunity to answer leaned forward and kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t delicate. It never was with him.

It was angry and rough and animalistic and predatory, almost like he wanted to swallow her whole. Y/N moaned at the feeling and locked her hands on his neck, pulling him closer. Since this time he was still in his armor, Jason did not push her away. She couldn’t truly feel his body and scars under all those layers so that he could accept. But it didn’t mean she was off the hook. He bit on her bottom lip. Hard, drawing a bit of blood and the metallic taste of it in his mouth spur him on even more. He grabbed her legs and locked them on his waist, hoisting her up in the process, grinding against her, getting some more of her sweet sounds. “Did it feel so good in your fantasies with Nightwing?” he mumbled into her skin, mouth tracing the path starting on her jaw, ending on her collarbone.

“No…” she whined, tangling hands in his hair, pulling lightly, not strong enough to try and explain that it was never Nightwing in her wet dreams “No…..”

“You’re not getting away from me.” He bit on the sensitive skin, her head falling back in ecstasy. “You’re mine.”

“Yes. Yes. I’m yours. Please….” she wanted so much more from him, but asking would be just so stupid

“You want more, princess?”

“please….”

“too bad I’m not into giving mood.” He smirked and let go off her, causing her to drop to the floor. Again. It was just getting to intimate for her and he couldn’t not have that. “Too bad you will have to take care of yourself. I expect a little show tonight, princess. And you better think about me while coming. You hear me?” he crouched next to her, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes on him.

“Yes.” She nodded

“I want to hear you moan my name. And then maybe, maybe…. you can convince me to help you. It’s up to you whether I’ll be good for you or not. Just remember….” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear “you’re mine.”

And then, almost like nothing happened, he stood up, collected his helmet and left the room, leaving her panting and gasping and with the sudden urge to give him the best show of his life.

Anything to have him.

Anything....

.............

@jasontoddsthickbabe - fixing my negligence here 😁😉

#jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x oc #jason todd angst #jason todd smut #arkham knight #arkham knight smut #arkham knight angst #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight x y/n #arkham knight imagine #arkhamverse

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hawkins-losers · 2 years

Text

A new look | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie cut his hair. You don’t know how to feel.

Word count: 0.5k

Request: Eddie cutting his hair and reader’s reaction pleassseee

The words came out of your mouth the second Eddie revealed his new body modification.

‘’What did you do to your hair?’’

‘’I cut them.’’

Your vision blurred with tears, the long strands you liked to run your hair through while he laid his head on your lap no longer there. Gone. ‘’Why?’’

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. ‘’I don’t know. The initial plan was a trim, but it ended up being a little more. I wasn't sure at first but, it’s not that bad, right?’’

Bad wouldn't be the word you’d employ. Different, definitely, but not bad. This man could not look bad even if he tried. Not even in the morning with wild hair, a pillow print on his face and drool on the corner of his mouth.

‘’But I liked your hair. I thought you liked them too.’’

‘’I do. I did, but it'll grow back.’’

Without his long mane, you could see better the moles on his jawline and all the freckles on his face. He looked younger - somehow. Boyish. His Bambi eyes stood out more, and you could now see his ears and jawline, making you want to kiss along it.

‘’What am I going to do when you go down on me? I can’t pull at your hair anymore.’’

Eddie laughed loudly. ‘’This is why I love you. Out of all the things you could’ve said, you thought about that.’’ He shook his head, grinning.

‘’But I really like doing that. You like it too,’’ you pointed, recalling the sounds he made while you tugged on his hair not later than last night as you pushed him further in, on the verge of orgasming.

‘‘I’m sure you can still tug a little.’‘

You made grabby hands at him and he sat down on the bed right before you, allowing you a closer look at his new hair-do. Automatically, you ran your fingers through the front, seeing how short it really was. There was still a bit of length, which you’ll still be able to pull at, but the back faded into much shorter. You twisted your fingers, testing the new material, and smiled. Good. There was still a bit of grip.

‘‘I guess I can make it work.’‘

‘‘Told you.’‘ Eddie smiled at you.

‘‘I’m gonna miss your old hair, though...’‘

His smile dropped, your words making him suddenly self-conscious and starting to regret his impulsive decision to cut his hair. ‘‘Do you...eh not like me the same without my long hair?’‘

'’Just because I’m sad it is gone doesn’t mean I don’t like the new look. It’s gonna take me a moment to get used to - and I think you too -, but my feelings for you are the same. I love you for you.’‘

He nodded, feeling lighter. '’I’m still me. Just…with a new haircut.’’

‘’Exactly.’’

You pressed your forehead against Eddie’s, smiling at him with love in your eyes. He took advantage of the close proximity to peck your lips, making you smile wider and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his warm skin instead of his hair.

‘’Was it like that when you grew out the buzz cut?’’ you asked, biting back a laugh, knowing how Eddie despised being reminded of that era.

He grimaced at the memories and groaned, hiding his face in your shoulder. ‘’The buzz cut was horrible and it was my uncle’s fault. He used to be in the army, that’s all he knew. I regret telling you about that.’’

‘’It’s unfortunate I don’t have a visual. Wayne told me you got a school picture somewhere.’’

‘’Which you will never see.’’

You pouted, then pulled him down on the bed with you.

Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3 @cursedandromedablack @Slashersimpfor @savagejane1 @wh0reforbucknasty @eddiemunson-slut @slvdsjjk @hehehehannahthings @dreamdancers-world @grace-loux @iamharrystyleslover @matildavol6 @Original_babababoo @eddiemunsonbby @notbeforelong

Eddie Munson taglist: @nighttwingg @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @heizenka @eddiemvunsongf @Eddie_munsons_girlfriend @magicalchocolatecheesecake @eddiemunsonistheloveofmylife @avril-reblog-cave @Fandomfaeryreads @harrys-tittie @straycatarang

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things

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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

Text

RED HOOD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

────────────────────

“Long Overdue” (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, brief mention of suicidal thoughts

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source - Batman: Three Jokers comic)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven.

You brace your hands on your hips, stern twist to your features.

“I failed worse than I thought as a parent if you think a couple of dropped criminals is going to make me hate you-.”

“There’s way more than a couple,” he scoffs.

You’re swiping your hand through the air before Jason’s even finished, the furrow on your face mirroring his own perfectly.

“And I truly don’t give a fuck.”

Whatever he was about to say stops dead on the tip of his tongue and he balks, eyes widening a fraction.

“Ma…”

And it almost - it almost makes you laugh out loud. The way he says it.

The mirth that leaks into your voice can’t be helped. “Boy…” you shake your head. “Nothing about this situation is normal, your killing isn’t going to be the magic thing that throws me off. Plus, I have been looking into what you’ve been doing. I know you've killed people and honestly…I don’t care. The hero sticht was never for me, I have a code and it’s not Bruce’s, but at the end of the day none of that matters. Your choices are your own Jason.”

You swallow thickly before continuing, “You’re an…adult now, you don’t need my blessing.”

You won’t say it cause you know it’ll piss him off, but Jason didn’t operate in uncertainty the same as Bruce. So attempting to talk him out of a decision would’ve just been begging to have your time wasted. If Jason thought his way was what Gotham needed then that was the end of the discussion on his part. You only regret what facilitated the fundamental shift in his stance of what’s “necessary” to keep people safe.

In spite of what you've said Jason’s features go back to being steeped, brows meeting and jaw clenched.

“That’s- that’s true. I know that,” you hum an affirmative and his eyes flash to yours. You haven’t seen that look in years. Like he’s sizing you up. It makes the corners of your lips quirk that you get to see it at all. “Just making sure you know where I stand.”

Your brow raises.

“Uh huh,” you nod to yourself. You have an inkling about why exactly he felt the need to jump at telling you off. “Even if he gave you a hard time about what you're doing your father does still love you, you know?”

Jason shakes his head harder this time, almost snarling.

“He’s not my damn father.”

At his tone you stiffen too. The shift feels like a punch to the gut and you can’t help but react as if the hit was real. It almost feels like it was.

Jason hadn’t exactly been smiling before but if you’d thought he was being distant then, you’ve been shown for a fool now. All that grace he was giving you is completely gone.

“…,” you look over the harsh lines of his face, the way his upper lip curls, and it makes your chest ache. The conversation went worse than you thought then. Buildings blew up all the time in Gotham, and Jason didn’t seem too banged up but- “Alright. Okay, Jason, I’m just reminding you that he works in absolutes. His anger likely isn’t at you specifically, just your methods.”

He sighs out roughly and when he straightens completely out of your hold you have to swallow back a noise of protest. “I know that, but it shouldn’t excuse him.”

He crosses his arms.

“He left me,” he forces out. You squint, confused. “I was holding out for him and he left me for that damn clown. From what I gather Joker set off the explosives I tied him up with - which wasn’t my most well thought out plan but that’s not the point. The point is when it went off he didn’t save me. Bruce took the Joker and left me for dead. Not me and that green haired freak, just me. I woke up under piles of rubble by myself.”

Your face drops, you can feel it, and Jason definitely sees it by the way his scowl reappears.

“What, you don’t believe me? It’s too hard to reconcile the man you love being the type to leave me to die?”

You hold up a finger and Jason almost (almost) cusses you out, you can see it on his face, but five years away apparently didn’t stop your glare from being more effective than his. Batglare™️ be damned you were still his mother.

“Jason, Bruce has surprised me a lot today, but I’m not gonna take that out on you cause I know better. What I am gonna ask is that you not take that tone with me; if you do it again I’m walking out this room and we can try this another day.” You huff and relax back into the neutral position you were sporting before. “I understand you’re angry and- and I honestly don’t know why you aren’t more mad at me, but if this anger is not for me don’t take it out on me. Have I made myself clear?”

He doesn’t let his head duck like he might’ve years before. No, this time he stubbornly keeps eye contact but he can’t stop how a flush climbs all the way to the tips of his ears. He sighs, shoulders dropping.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Ma.” You inexplicably soften at his words and move to grab his hand, squeezing it and using your hold to pull him back in. He squeezes back the tiniest bit and you give him a closed mouthed smile. “You're being leagues more understanding than he was.”

“Well you are killing people Jay.”

“No. No, I’ve seen him treat Dent with more compassion and he kills. He murders. I watched him pick Joker over me. How am I less deserving than that monster? That doesn’t feel like absolutes or objectivity or whatever to me.”

Even in his quietness his voice crackles along the edges. You bite the inside of your lip. That was a good question. How did Bruce make that decision? Your brows move together. Your ex, even at his most logic driven, wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe with the Joker. He’d already tried the whole ‘I won’t kill you but I won’t save you either,” thing with the villain but this? Jason was nowhere close to Joker levels of bad. You can’t-

Looking at Jason now - Jason who’s genuinely letting you process what he just dropped on you - you cannot fantom what would possess Bruce to leave Jason to be overshadowed by death again. His son. Your fucking son. You sneer, teeth grinding together.

“I want to know what happened.”

Now is when Jason chooses to come back down. His anger going once more to the foreground in the face of your own rising temper.

“Ma…you don’t-”

“I do,” you stand up straighter. Jason’s schools his expression fast, but for a split second he was giving off the distinct impression of a teenager who just got caught in a lie and can’t figure out what gave them away. So where’s the lie? “Tell me.”

Jason blows air out of his nose and cuts you a slightly exasperated glare but he does start speaking.

“I- we fought. It wasn't exactly cute, we were both going hard, but the goal was leading him to where I had the Clown strung up, so I let him get more hits in than I probably should’ve.”

Jason pauses, looking over at you. You only nod, allowing him to move at his own pace. Jason’s only slightly expanding upon information you and everybody else privy to Gotham news already knows, but you doubt over the last couple years he suddenly turned pathological. Jason only ever lied out of omission when you lived in the manor so him keeping the fine details of what went down from you now didn’t ping nicely in the back of your mind.

“I begged him to let me kill Joker - for everyone’s sake,” he admits. Voice gaining levity as if he’s telling a particularly far-fetched joke before dropping back down. “I guess I should’ve known better, but I couldn’t believe it. That he’d just let Joker roam free after what he did to me - did to the hundreds of innocent lives he’s wiped off this planet. How could Batman let that go unpunished, you know? But I figured maybe he’d been holding out cause a what pixie boots me woulda done: saved the bastard despite everything for the sake of second chances.”

Another glance to you, but you don’t stop him so Jason keeps going. Voice quiet and more present yet no less intense.

“But he’s had enough second chances. We should’ve stopped giving them out to that sack of shit years ago but we didn’t, and that’s on us, but I was giving him a chance to rectify that and let me do it for everybody. To send him off to hell right where he belongs, and you know what he did instead?”

You hold his gaze even though it hurts seeing all that anger. All that betrayal.

“He chose Joker,” you say faintly.

“Yeah,” Jason nods. The smile he gives you is acidic. “He chose Joker. And I set him up for it, but only because B wouldn’t just get it over with. He just kept giving me every excuse in the book, cause apparently that was too hard of a decision to make for me. So screw it I made him pick between the two of us. Helped his indecision along. Let me kill Joker myself or kill me to stop me from killing him, since he wanted to save that monster so damn badly.”

“Jay,” you say, deflating.

A sharp shake of his head is all you get by way of acknowledgment for the assisted suicide he nearly instigated.

“Bruce’s solution? Sl-”

Jason stops. This time when he takes you in his eyes are far away, and he refuses to meet your gaze. A few deft beats before his mouth goes slightly agape but nothing comes out.

“Jason…?”

He chuckles, brushing you off. Nothing’s funny though and when he looks back to you there’s something new in his eyes you haven’t seen yet. An expression that distinctly brings you back to a fifteen year old calling to ask if you’d been lying to him too. If you’d known about Sheila Haywood the entire time and said nothing.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” He swallows, “It’s just…at the end I got…emotional. Reckless. Turned my gun on him and he threw a batarang into…into the muzzle and it exploded in my hand. Then in the confusion I guess Joker got free and set off the bombs…and you know the rest: I’m so good I cheated death a second time,” he smiles. Something too big and with too many teeth to seem real.

“I don’t know whether I’m happy about that ‘second time’ or not,” you hold out your other hand and when he steps to take hold of it a small grin tugs at your lips. “But that’s only cause I don’t think you know either.”

You also don’t feel like he’s telling you everything, but for now this was a battle you were willing to rage another day. As long as he was safe it could wait.

Jason’s own smile shrinks to something more genuine.

“Maybe not today, Ma.”

“Yeah, I got you,” you say. “I’m tired of crying anyway.”

There is - after all - still a draft hitting your eyes that you are hopelessly ignoring the feel of. Jason grins.

“Well I’m starting to get a little faint myself so maybe you’re onto something, Old Lady.”

For a second you stop smiling, shooting him a cross look and sucking your teeth. He backs away from you to scoop up his helmet with a lighter, more real chuckle.

“Oh am I, smartass?” You turn around and knock him on the shoulder, urging him out the door while he gives an exaggerated ‘ouch!’. “See, I’ll show you old since you think you big and bad now that you can reach the top shelf.”

Despite the lighter air you’ve managed Jason only keeps laughing for as long as it takes him to reach the door. Once he opens it he freezes before he walks all the way through and turns back to you.

“I’m sorry about…everything. By the way.” Standing on the threshold with the smallest little frown on his face, he looks like a boy again and you smile at that warry frown.

Shrugging in between rows of grappling guns and prototype pellets you shake your head, rolling the stiffness from your shoulders and letting the twinge from the wound in your arm ground you.

“Don’t worry about me, I get it. If one confrontation went to absolute shit why wouldn’t the other? Trust though, with the situation at hand Bruce is my problem not you.” You point at him. “But you better call me after this.”

Jason stays looking at you silently then gives you one nod and slips that helmet right back on. Inwardly you protest the action but outwardly you content yourself with nodding back.

When he turns away and you can’t see anything but reinforced tact gear and shiny red you find your mouth opening again.

“Love you,” you call out. Just so he knows you never stopped.

His voice is soft over the modulation of the helmet when he responds with a: “Thanks Ma,” then you can’t see him anymore.

…TBC

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Also, I’m thinking about going on hiatus after finishing Long Overdue to give myself a break and shit, so yeah. I’ll (probably) come back on some unspecified date in July though so it’s not like I’ll even be gone for that long. Or like most people give a shit, but whatever.

Also also, I don’t know if I hit the mark and if the feelings were feeling, you know? But I made an attempt, I think that’s commendable.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik

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sparkle-fiend · 1 year

Text

Here is my entry for the Spicy Six Winter Fic Challenge hosted by @thefreakandthehair (thanks so much to you and @unclewaynemunson for the awesome events this month!) My prompt was “kiss in the snow”.

Eddie is ladling a mixture of brown sugar, cinnamon, and mashed sweet potatoes into a baking dish when the phone rings. He nearly drops the bowl, hastily wiping the sticky orange mixture off his fingers before answering.

“Munson’s House of Holiday Horrors, Eddie speaking,” he intones cheerfully. Steve snorts with laughter on the other end of the line.

“What if it hadn’t been me calling?”

“It’s Christmas Eve Stevie, and everyone we know is out of town. Who else would be calling?” He knows the exact expression that will be on Steve’s face right now. He’ll be trying not to smile, which will twist his lips into a crooked little smirk instead. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite expressions. “How was work today?”

“Awful. Remind me never to agree to a holiday shift again. The Christmas movies were out of stock by 9, so I’ve had people screaming at me all day. Like I’m personally responsible for the fact that they waited till the last minute to try and rent the Grinch that Stole Christmas.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums sympathetically. “Poor baby. What time are you coming over?”

“The pie needs to cool another 30 minutes, then I’m leaving.”

They’d argued about the pie for days. Eddie insisted that he had enough dishes planned to feed a small army, while Steve insisted that he just had to bring a pecan pie (which, coincidentally, is Wayne’s favorite).

“You know – you don’t have to work so hard to impress him. Wayne already likes you.”

“Shut up,” Steve says. “I’ll see you at 5:30.”

“See ya.”

They’re not quite to the point of exchanging I love you’s yet, even though it sits on the edge of his tongue every time they say goodbye.

Eddie hangs up the phone and turns to survey the chaos strewn across the kitchen. He’s got half an hour – 45 minutes with driving time. The sweet potato casserole has to be baked, and he still needs to finish two more dishes after that.

“Shit,” he mutters.

***

When Wayne ventures into the kitchen twenty minutes later to check on him, Eddie is frantically stirring sour cream and shredded cheese into the mashed potatoes.

“Christ almighty it’s hot in here. You’re sweatin’ like a hog.”

Eddie scowls and swipes at the hair sticking to his forehead. “Thanks Uncle Wayne.”

Unfortunately, his uncle’s not wrong. The kitchen is sweltering – not surprising, considering the stove and oven have been going all day – and Eddie’s shirt is soaked through. He desperately needs a shower, but he’s running way behind.

“Alright… what can I do to help?”

Eddie pauses long enough to fix his uncle with a skeptical look. “Are you forgetting the famous incident of the frozen turkey? Your cooking privileges have been permanently revoked.”

Wayne looks unimpressed. “Don’t you sass me. I can pull a goddamn casserole out of the oven.”

Eddie snickers and allows himself to be chased out of the kitchen. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Don’t let that casserole burn!”

He takes the stairs up two at a time. It’s still a novelty, living in a house with a second floor – even after half a year. The water pressure is pretty awesome too, although he doesn’t take the time to enjoy it today. He rushes through a lukewarm shower, just enough to cool down and rinse the sweat off; throwing a clean shirt on when he gets out.

With hair still dripping, he thunders back down the stairs in time to see Wayne pull the casserole out, marshmallows browned to a perfect crust on top. His uncle watches in bemusement as Eddie covers the dish with aluminum foil and then hastens to dump frozen rolls onto a pan.

“What time is Steve supposed to get here?” Wayne asks.

Eddie doesn’t even dare look at the clock. “Any minute,” he says distractedly. He adjusts the oven temperature and shoves the pan in. He had a checklist, which is buried somewhere in the pile of used dishes and discarded packaging on the counter. He starts searching for it, shoving things aside in frustration, until he feels his uncle’s hands land heavy on his shoulders.

“Calm down, okay? Everything looks amazing. You’ve done a real good job Ed.”

The old man’s expression is unbearably soft when he turns around. Wayne looks at him like that all the time these days – ever since March, and that tense week in the hospital, when they weren’t sure if infection would finish the job the demobats had started.

It makes Eddie feel warm and awkward at the same time. He darts forward for a quick hug, pressing his face into the smoky flannel of his uncle’s shoulder, before stepping back and shoving the old man toward the door.

“Go on. Let me know when Steve gets here. And turn on the lights!”

***

Eddie loses track of time as he scrambles to finish – last minute tasks keep popping up every time he turns around. When he’s finally ready to call it done, he heads for the living room, expecting to find Steve and Wayne watching something on tv while they wait.

But it’s six o’clock, and there’s no sign of Steve. Wayne is standing against the big picture window, curtains shoved aside so he can look out.

“Hate to break it to ya Ed, but I’m not sure your boy is gonna make it. Snow’s really coming down out there.”

Eddie takes his uncle's place against the window, pressing his nose against the cold glass as he cups his hands to shield the glare. It's dark out, and the only thing illuminated by the porch light is a swirling wall of snowflakes. Judging by the snow already piled on the railing, it's collecting thick and fast.

"Shit," he mutters.

Concern immediately churns his stomach. If Steve left the house when he planned to, he should have arrived over half an hour ago.

Eddie goes to the phone on the end table by Wayne’s recliner, dialing the familiar number, hoping Steve decided to wait out the weather. The Christmas tree twinkles merrily in the corner; red, green, blue, and yellow lights reflecting off the silver tinsel while Eddie listens to the phone ring and ring - until the click of the answering machine picks up.

He hits the switch hook to end the call, re-dialing immediately. Ring, ring, ring and the click of the answering machine again.

He stays on the line long enough to hear the recorded voice of Steve’s father announce: “You’ve reached the Harrington residence. Leave a name, number, and brief message…” Eddie hangs up again with a frustrated growl.

Wayne watches with a worried frown. “You don’t think he would try to drive in this mess, do you? Not in that fancy car of his.”

Only someone who didn’t know Steve very well would ask that question. If Robin or Dustin were here, they’d already be suiting up for a search party.

Apparently, the expression on Eddie’s face is answer enough, because Wayne’s lips press into a thin line before he nods. “Right then. We’ll put the snow chains on the truck – as long as you go slow, you should be okay.”

They throw on coats and boots and a hat for Wayne, before trooping out into the whirling snow. Working in tandem, it only takes a few minutes to get the chains wrapped around the front tires of Wayne’s truck, latched and tensioned tight.

They agree that Wayne should stay behind in case Steve ends up calling after all, and then Eddie is off, pulling slowly down the drive.

The little house (part of a generous government settlement in exchange for their silence) is on the outskirts of town, surrounded by trees and cornfields – and no neighbors for at least ten miles. Which means the only light comes from the feeble beam of the truck’s headlights, struggling to penetrate the wall of snow. It’s like driving into a tunnel.

Eddie holds his foot tense above the gas pedal, giving it just enough juice to keep the old truck bumping along at a snail’s pace, listening to the chained tires grip and grind over the snow.

I never said ,‘I love you’, he thinks. I never said it. Steve could be dead or dying somewhere along the road, and the last thing Eddie ever said to him was, “See ya.”

It’s unbearable.

After a nerve-wracking 15 minutes, scanning and straining his eyes nearly to tears – Eddie finally spots a faint shape in the distance. Just the silhouette of a person, no car in sight.

It’s Steve. It’s gotta be.

He slams on the brakes – too hard. Even with the chains on, the old truck slides a few terrifying feet farther than intended. Heart pounding, Eddie throws it into park and wrenches the door open.

He hits the ground ready to run and nearly busts his ass as he sinks into snow over his ankles; staggering like a drunk toward the huddled figure of his boyfriend.

Eddie grips the other boy by the shoulders, eyes raking over him head to toe, searching for injuries. It’s hard to see – the headlights cast everything in sharp relief, full of shadow.

“Shit Steve… are you okay? I was so fucking worried, Jesus Christ.”

Steve pats his chest and laughs through the audible chattering of his teeth. “I’m f-fine Ed, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“What happened?”

“Deer ran out in front of me. T-tried to miss it and the Beemer spun off the road. Car’s fine, but it’s stuck in a ditch.”

Eddie huffs out a relieved laugh and squeezes his boyfriend tight. Just stuck in a ditch – thank god. They’re so lucky the accident wasn’t serious; and lucky that Eddie came looking before Steve froze to death trying to make the long, cold walk to the house.

He pulls back to gaze into those beloved brown eyes, brushing aside a swoop of hair stiff with ice.

“I love you,” Eddie says abruptly. His breath hangs like dragon-smoke between them. It’s not how he intended this moment to go, but he can’t keep it in any longer. “I was afraid to say it, but then… when I thought something might have happened to you, all I could I think was that I never told you how I felt.”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers. “Eddie, I love you too.”

He laughs, giddy with relief, and cradles Steve’s jaw as he leans into a kiss. The world falls away - there’s nothing but Steve’s slightly chapped lips, warming slowly against his own, and the soft whisper of the snowflakes.

It’s perfect - until Steve shifts awkwardly and winces in pain.

“What the hell Steve, I thought you said you weren’t hurt?”

Steve grins sheepishly and leans against Eddie, trying to take the weight off his left leg. “I said the car was fine. I twisted my knee trying to climb out of that damn ditch.”

“Goddamnit… is there anything else I should know?”

His boyfriend unzips his jacket, revealing a towel-wrapped disc tucked securely against his chest. “I saved the pie,” he says proudly.

“Jesus Christ.” Overwhelmed by affection, Eddie kisses Steve again; it’s either that or shake the mad bastard. “Come on… let’s get you and your stupid pie home before you both freeze.”

#lexswinterficchallenge #strangerthingsfestivefun #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington/eddie munson #my fic #this was originally supposed to be a lot longer and more involved #but I wrote and scrapped like four different versions #and ended up with this #snuck in some art to make up for it

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strangemagicc · 19 days

Text

Nobody Has To Know | Bonus Scene - Chapter Three

masterlist

summary: Eddie’s busy mind kept him from remembering a few important details. Like his date.

author’s note: surprise! I felt like I needed to paint a better picture of Eddie’s predicament and so I present to you: the bonus scene - Eddie’s freakout. I hope you enjoy it 🖤

w/c: 1k

warnings: none

Eddie hadn’t been able to get you off his mind since he’d dropped you off, thoughts wandering to the way you looked pressed against the shower wall.

The way you felt wrapped around his fingers.

Your words played on repeat as he worked on his Uncle’s car.

Next time

God, he couldn’t get his mind off next time.

And his upbeat attitude wasn’t lost on Wayne, curious eyebrows raised in his nephew’s direction as Eddie whistled to a love song on the radio.

One he didn’t realize Eddie even knew.

“Who’s got you humming to The Spinners?” Wayne’s voice cut through Eddie’s thoughts.

“Who?” Eddie questioned, face twisted in confusion and Wayne smirked, pointing the tool he held to the radio that sat atop the old wooden porch.

“The Spinners,” he repeated.

“Oh,” Eddie chuckled nervously, “‘s just a good song.”

“Uh-huh,” Wayne nodded but didn’t buy it, Eddie had never been one to like the oldies except for the few songs his mom had shown him when she was alive. This song not being one of them.

They continued to work in shared silence, hands covered in oil and dirt by the time they were finished.

Eddie twisted one last bolt, pushed off the car, and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands.

“That should do it if you want to give it a try,” he tilted his chin towards the driver’s seat and Wayne climbed into the cab of his truck twisting the key in the ignition until it roared to life.

“Finally,” the older man groaned before switching it off. The sound of an approaching vehicle caught his attention and he turned back to Eddie.

“Expecting a visitor?”

“What?” Eddie turned to where Wayne’s gaze was focused, his eyes widening when he noticed who was in the driver’s seat.

Cassandra.

The girl he met online a month ago.

The girl he forgot he had a date with.

“Shit,” he muttered, his worry not lost on Wayne.

“Take it that’s not the girl you were thinking of while humming love songs?” Wayne teased and Eddie threw his rag at him but didn’t deny the allegation.

“I’ll be inside,” Wayne slapped his nephew’s shoulder with a deep laugh and walked up the stairs before disappearing into the trailer they shared.

Cassandra hopped out of the driver’s seat, blue dress billowing in the wind. She practically skipped until she closed the distance, smiling widely at Eddie and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date,” she pouted and it was nowhere near as cute as yours.

Eddie’s body felt like it’d been set on fire, cheeks painted a bright shade of pink as the nerves crept in.

“N-no, of course not.”

And it was too late to tell her he couldn’t go, mind void of a believable excuse.

All he could think about was you. How he would tell you or what you’d say. If you’d even believe that this wasn’t intentional.

Would you even care?

And that thought was worse than you being mad at him.

“I was just working on my Uncle’s car,” he tilted his head behind him, hands still at his sides.

She leaned in to kiss him and he turned his head just in time. Not wanting to erase the way your lips felt against his, not with the touch of hers.

“I’m gonna get cleaned up and we can go, just need to pick up Rick’s sister on the way.”

She pulled away and nodded.

“I didn’t know Rick had a sister,” she crossed her arms over her chest.

Cassandra lived one town over and wasn’t familiar with Rick or any of Eddie’s friends. Only knowing about them from the little he’d told her before tonight.

“Yeah, younger,” Eddie shrugged, not wanting to talk about you with her, and walked alongside her to the front door. Stepping aside to let her through first.

“If you wanna get comfortable, I’m just gonna get washed up,” he repeated, trying to hide his nervous energy.

Wanting to hurry up and text you.

Cassandra plopped onto the old couch he pointed at, taking out her phone to scroll on socials as he sped to his bathroom.

He turned on the shower and reached for his phone, mind all over the place.

“Don’t freak out,” he began. Even though he was the one losing his shit.

His fingers moved rapidly over the screen sending more messages than he had ever sent to you.

Eddie watched his phone, waiting for you to read them. The seconds dragged on like hours, and his messages were still only marked as delivered.

“Oh come on,” he groaned but still there was no response.

Shit, fuck, shit.

And he couldn’t keep Cassandra waiting. Or you standing outside of work to be picked up.

Eddie hopped into the shower and scrubbed himself in a hurry, this shower not nearly as enjoyable as the one from this morning.

He looked at his phone as he wiped the condensation from the mirror, but still no response.

He sent one final message before getting dressed and meeting Cassandra back in the living room.

All he could hope was that you’d read it.

“You ready?” He tilted his head towards the front door and she hopped up eagerly.

And Eddie knew he would need to think of a way to break things off before the end of the night.

tag list*: @sharnnnnnn, @hsllfirescoops, @gri959, @bexreadstoomuch, @bourbonbl0nde, @mrsjellymunson, @micheledawn1975, @sweetdazequeen, @auntbaby, @vintagehellfire, @alwayslindie, @fentiibratzz, @findmeincorneliastreet, @take-everything-you-can, @kellsck, @mewchiili, @corrodedcoffincumslut, @cozmiccass, @ali-r3n, @the-unforgivenn, @trixyvixx, @emxxblog, @hereforshmut, @the-sylver-dragon, @pixxiestixs, @cosmorant, @chloe-6123, @kaita, @givemethatheart-breakingstory-rn, @brinleighsstuff, @lightcommastix, @birdysaturne, @meabhogr, @bl0ssomanddie, @hugdealer, @serenadingtigers, @fishwithtitz, @adamsbubblegumbitch, @fangfatale, @aspectsofyou, @5tud10-54r4h, @dontcrydaddy

*if you requested to be tagged but were not listed it was because your blog did not pull up to verify your age or there was no indication that you are 18+

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thesupreme316 · 7 months

Note

Hiii I’m here to request ( take your time)

I wonder how aew guys would react to their s/o being clumsy ( she gets hurt lot from being clumsy )

Have a amazing day and take care of yourself

AEW STARS REACT TO: Their S/O being clumsy

Pairings: Eddie Kingston X Reader, Kenny Omega X Reader, Ricky Starks X Reader, Hook X Reader, Nick Wayne X Reader, MJF X Reader, Daniel Garcia X Reader

Word Count: 832

Supreme Speaks: heyyy, thanks to anon for this request (and sorry for taking so long) and I HOPE YOU ARE DOING WELL AND ARE TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF. that's it I think...at least i'm uploading once a week neow...anyways, please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warnings: none tbh, GIFS AINT MINE

Taglist: @eddie-kingstons-wifey @hookerforhook @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @sheinthatfandom @cassie0sstuff @batzy-watzy @triscillal

Eddie Kingston

This man laughs at you

Like a full-on cackle

But don’t get it twisted

He will make sure that you’re all right

But he’s gonna laugh through it

Will buy bubble wrap baby safety items to “keep you safe” (mainly to tease you)

Mans even grabbed a helmet for you

“Remember when you ran into the light pole?? And then you tripped over a cat??”

He’s a tease and will not hesitate to remind you of all your clumsy actions

But he still loves you…even if you don’t have the best balance

Daniel Garcia

He doesn’t know you

Mans would full-on walk away from you and pretend he doesn’t know you

“Oh my god ma’am are you okay? Whispers stop tripping on air”

When while y’all are on vlogs with Isiah

He just looked off into space or into the camera like he’s on the office

Sometimes he would check on you and quickly walk away

It’s not that he’s not concerned…he just embarrassed a lil

Daniel still loves you to bits and pieces

But your name on his phone is still “Two Left Feet”

Ricky Starks

This man laughs at you pt. 2

Teases you like no tomorrow

Have you ever seen those videos where the dogs mock their owners?? Like that one dog pretending to hop on one foot cause his owner was doing it??

…That’s Ricky…

A dog that mocks you every chance he can

He would mock you over and over again to the point where it’s just an instant reply

Once he walked in on you covered in orange juice (cause you know the fridge fell or something) and he instantly started laughing

“I’m so glad I don’t have to clean that up”

He has videos and pictures of you tripping, slipping, falling, running into doors

I mean he would help wipe the juice off your face…but that’s it…you’re on your own

Hook

Man catches you before you fall every time

He will move you out of the way of danger without looking

He doesn’t understand how you are so clumsy and still alive

Doesn’t flinch if he hears a big crash…that’s just the universe letting him know that you are still alive

It’s when you are very quiet that scares him

Like the time he didn’t hear a noise for an hour, Hook decided to check on you

And he found you on the floor holding your foot in silence…looking up at the ceiling in disappointment

“You good?” “Yeah” “Do you need ice?” “No” “Do you wanna be left alone?” “Yeah”

And then he closed the door and sat back down

As long as you are not severely hurt, Hook is fine

Kenny Omega

Immediately cares for you…folds every time

Gets surprised and scared every time you trip or if there is a big noise

But finds your clumsiness adorable

“AWW, you are still so cute…even though you are as fragile as Don’s ego”

Instantly cuddles you, hugs you, and comforts you if anything happens

Has actually wrapped you up in bubble wrap before

Tries his best to make sure that you don’t have to get up to get anything

Worries about if he’s not there to help you and you get seriously injured

But he quickly realizes that it’s a daily thing and that you are fine

He hopes…

MJF

THIS MAN IS EVIL LAUGHING AT YOU

YOU KNOW THAT PICTURE OF SHINEE’S KEY WAS TAKING A PICTURE WHILE MINHO WAS DROWNING? (Here’s the pic)

That’s him…In fact…that’s his home screen

Doesn’t understand how he fell in love with you when you are this clumsy

Has weird nicknames for you

“Hi my little butterfingers, how are you today?”

But also would take your clumsiness and use it to make him look so strong

Just catches you when you fall and would be “What would you do without me here?”

In his mind, he’s your Superman

Nick Wayne

Mans is clumsy too and no you cannot change my mind

Doesn’t judge you at all…will still laugh at you

While he’s laughing at you running into a wall, Nick runs into a door

Now you both on the ground…laughing in pain

You both be covered with bandaids and bruises from running into anything and everything at least once a week

He risks his safety just for you (kith kith)

“I got you sweetheart. place himself between you and the wall Now you won’t stub your toe”

But then he stubbed his toe…so now you have to nurse him

Overall…he just wants to make sure that you are okay

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steddiewithachance · 6 months

Text

Will You Still Need Me?

Summary: Steve Harrington is avoiding telling his professional-musician-boyfriend, Eddie, that he's going deaf because he's worried about what will happen when he does.

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Or Read on AO3

June 13, 1992: A month later

Steve startles awake when he hears something fall on the other side of the apartment. The bed’s empty, he notices. That's disappointing. Steve brushes a hand across Eddie’s side of the bed to feel how cold it is, to check how long Eddie’s been up for, but he pauses when he feels a piece of paper where his boyfriend should be. Did Eddie leave a note? That goof.

Steve snatches it off the pillow and holds it over his face.

Steve,

I was going to recite to you this big long monologue of all the reasons I love you and all the ways you’re important to me, but maybe it’s better if you read them. Don’t want you to miss a single syllable of my devotion to you, Sweetness. So I made a long cheesy trail of notes for you to follow, don’t make fun of me for it.

Yours Always,

Teddy

Steve is still half asleep so it takes him another groggy read-through to understand what he’s looking at.

He sits up and does indeed see a trail of little pink notes, photographs, and rose petals twisting around the bedroom, under the door, and presumably down the hall. And Steve’s heart is pounding because, well he doesn’t want to get his hopes up or anything, but this sappy romantic gesture sounds like a precursor to something bigger. He’s frozen in place, too afraid to move. He eventually scoots off the bed and picks up the first note.

‘I love you for engaging in my interests even though I wouldn’t blame you for not caring.’ It’s paired with an old photo of a DND game with the kids. Eddie’s DMing with Steve on his lap.

The next few: ‘I love you for always trying to make little kids in shopping carts smile when we pass them at the store.’ and ‘I love how you can tell if I wasn’t in the shower long enough to condition my hair to your high standards so you make me get back in and do it right. Sometimes I take quick showers just so you’ll lay into me for it.’

The notes and photos are a lot more random than Steve had anticipated. ‘I love the way you will patiently explain the rules of various sports to me even when it’s been seven years of watching games together and I still don’t get it.’ There’s a photo near that note that was taken by Robin of the time Steve and Eddie swapped clothes at a sleepover. Eddie’s posing in Steve’s letterman jacket and tiny gym shorts and Steve is giggling in the background dressed in leather and denim.

Steve gets to the door and realizes none of the notes have mentioned music or anything related to Eddie’s shows at all. Steve wonders if it was a conscious decision. Wonders if Eddie was being sensitive about Steve’s hearing problem. He swings the door open to see the trail continue all the way down the hall and around the corner. He huffs and keeps reading. There are notes about being a good “mom”, one about Eddie cherishing the nights they cook together. There’s a note about Steve’s smile, what it felt like to decorate their first apartment together, how Eddie loves that both of them have taken to calling Wayne “Pops”, but none about music. When Steve finally rounds the corner he sees Eddie sitting on the couch nervously.

“This was actually a terrible idea because I had to listen to you slowly shuffle down the hallway reading my notes. My anxiety is at an all-time high!” Eddie announces dramatically and Steve laughs.

On the coffee table in front of him, there’s a big bouquet of flowers and a basket full of snacks and skin/hair care products that Steve loves. This is all a fucking lot. Positive attention makes Steve’s skin crawl. Eddie pats the couch and Steve slowly ambles over. He sits down and proceeds to not know what to do with himself.

“Stevie,” Eddie digs into his pocket and sets a little green velvet box on Steve’s thigh.

Oh boy.

“Obviously we can’t do anything legal, but I still want you to know that I wanna be yours forever. A tangible promise of loyalty. Is that okay?”

Steve covers his face. He doesn’t know how people handle being proposed to in public. It’s mortifying enough in private. All he can do is nod. He feels Eddie prop the little box open. Inside is a golden ring, patterned with fancy flourishes. It reminds Steve of ornate picture frames in art galleries. He likes it a lot. Steve holds out his left hand.

Eddie beams, slips the ring on, and looks like he’s relieved it fits.

“Mwahaha. You’re mine now.” Eddie proclaims with the tone he uses to voice villains when he plays DND. Then he grabs Steve’s left hand and pushes the middle and ring finger down while pulling out the thumb, pointer, and pinky. Steve’s pinky finger barely stays up on its own but Eddie gives him a coy smile.

“This means ‘I love you’ in sign language.”

And that’s the first expression Steve learns in ASL.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steddie fic #soft eddie munson #steddie fic rec #steddie fluff #hard of hearing #deafness #eddie munson is a sweetheart #rock star eddie munson #hurt/comfort

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rapz-rites · 1 year

Text

Family Time

Damian Wayne x Reader Headcanon

Meeting Damian’s family and getting close with them

A/N: This is my first time writing ANYTHING so plz be nice. I won't do any major writings, just small head canons and maybe rabbles. Saving the big stuff for all you professional writers.

Word Count: 1,704

Warnings: Jealous Damian, injured reader, threats, implied smut

Meeting the Waynes

You and Damian have been dating for about 5 months now.

Damian has already met your parents and they LOVED HIM.

He was polite, respectable and always said the right things at the right moment. DAMN HIM!

Now it was time to meet his family.

You’re pacing back and forth questioning your entire existence while Damian is sitting on the edge of your bed trying to calm you down.

“Do my clothes look good enough? Does my hair look good? What if they think I’m with you for your money? What if they think that I’m a gold digger? Do they know that my family is also very wealthy? What if they think I’m a stuck up spoiled brat? OMG WHAT IF THEY HATE ME?”

You’re digging yourself a deep hole of negativity until Damian grabs you by your shoulders forcing you to look at him.

“Beloved. You’re going to be fine. Everything about you is perfect and my family will love you”

He always knew what to say and when. DAMN HIM!

“Thank you. Ok. I think I’m ready, let's go!”

As damian pulls up to the manor, you start to rethink your decision

“Is it too late to cancel lunch? Would they believe I suddenly got ill?”

“Beloved, as I said before they’re going to love you”

As always he was right.

You and his family immediately hit it off and got along well.

A little too well for his liking.

He knew his family would like you but what he didn’t know was that you would spend more time with them instead of him. DAMN HIM!

Bruce

Bruce loved you for his youngest son

Damian as had a girlfriend before, Raven, but after they broke up, he thought Damian would never open himself up to anyone again

Even though you and Damian are a kind of opposites and balance each other out, you understand him and what he’s gone through

He was the one of the first people, after your parents and Alfred, to learn about your relationship

Though business isn’t your first option as a major, you still want to learn as a backup

Who better to learn from than the man who runs on of the top companies in the country

Bruce offers to teach you the basics and even a small internship at WE

You refuse the internship but gladly take the lessons

Dick

Dick is an acrobat

You did gymnastics for 4 year

What could go wrong?

A LOT

Dick tries to teach you a double full out

You already perfected a full out

You’ve always had trouble perfecting your landings

It didn’t come a surprise to you when you were able to perfectly do the flip but mess up the landing to bad you twist your ankle

Damian is furious with Grayson for teaching you suck a difficult move knowing there was a chance of you getting hurt

Damian is about to lunge at Dock ready to attack until you stop him

“Damian, stop. I’ve twisted my ankle plenty of times trying new gymnastic moves. I’ll be fine in like 2 weeks. You don’t need to hurt Dick, I knew the risks”

“Ok. But if Grayson teaches you another move and you get hurt, he will need to sleep with both eyes open”

Normally, Dick would be somewhat frightened by one of Damian’s threats but he’s in shock from how quickly you calmed him down

He’s going to call you from now on everytime Damian is angry

Jason

You and Jason connect over your interests in books

You two form your own book club

You two discuss the book you picked out for the month and talk about many other books you two have read in the past

Both of you love to read a book and watch the movie/show that goes along with it

You two argue over which aspects were better in the book or the movie/show

“Elena and Katherine are blonde in the books though”

“I know that Jason. I read the book too. But let’s be honest Katherine is better as a brunette than a blonde. It fits her personality in the show way more.”

“You’re right.”

“I think it’s Nina Dobrev.”

“It definitely is.”

“I would have liked to see angel Elena though.”

“ME TOO!”

Tim

Tim had a nack for tech

You were attached to your phone

Of course you two got along

Tim taught you tricks on the computer and showed you secret games companies hide

You had learned from Damian that Tim was a bit of a caffeine addict

Damian’s words were “Drake will be the caffeine addicted idiot in front of a screen or head deep in a case”

You take it upon yourself to find caffeine substitutes to try and help his addiction

He is reluctant at first but gives it a try

After a few months Tim is drinking less coffee than before

He still drinks coffee but limits himself to only 3 cups a day, much better than 2 an hour

He drinks more water and gets in more sleep than before

Damian who never openly admit it but he’s happy his older brother is being healthier and taking better care of himself

Duke

You and Duke bonded over your similar senses of humor

It also helps that he’s also on TikTok as much as you

The two of you jokingly talk in TikTok lingo

“Bombastic side eye”

“Criminal offense side eye”

“Duke this is probably the most important question I’m about to ask… Team Hailey or Team Selena”

“I’m offended that you even have to ask. Team Selena til the day I die. Alex Russo practically raised me”

Everyone else is looking at the two of you confused

Damian is used to this already

When you asked him the same question you went on a 3 hour tangent and it was evident who’s side you were on

Damian didn’t care about “silly celebrity drama” but since he knew it would make you happy, he chose Selena

Cass

Cass is a pretty quiet girl, almost mute

With family she barely ever talks, with strangers she uses sign language

Once you learned Cass communicated mostly with sign language you took it upon yourself to learn

When you we were first introduced to Cass you signed

“Hi! My name is Y/N, you must be Cass. My sign is rusty, I’m still learning. Nice to meet you”

Cass gave you a small smile and you were ecstatic

According to Damian Cass almost never smiles and even if she does its for a split second

You both enjoy each others quiet company, watching movies or painting nails and braiding hair with Stephanie

The more time you and spend with Cass the more she opens up to you

After a few months, she starts giving you short answers without signing

“If you could only wear one color nail polish for the rest of your life, what would it be and why?”

“Black…”

“Good answer”

Steph

You and Steph connect as feminists

“Anything a boy can do we can do better”

Steph often includes you in any competitions he has that are girls vs boys

Does she include you because you can be used against Damian?

Yes

Are you upset about it?

Absolutely not

Why?

You love beating Damian in any possible way

Other than competitions, you both love pranking the boys

You two prank damian the least because you know well enough that damian can hold grudge and you love to cuddle at night

Pranking Tim is best

Before he got better he would fall for anything because he was too sleep deprived

He would fall for the simplest broken screen video on youtube almost every time

Once he started getting better, you two had to up your game

Your favorite prank on Tim was the fake virus that played the SHrek opening over and over on blast

Alfred

You couldn’t forget about Alfred now can you

Whenever you enter the manor Alfred is always the first one to greet you

Whenever you are waiting for Damian at the manor you go straight to Alfred and talk with him

You often assist him with whatever he’s doing

Baking, cooking, cleaning

He finds it refreshing a young person would help him

The others would try and help but often with miss up and make some kind of mess

One year they tried to make Alfred’s favorite cake for his birthday… and failed… miserably

They didn't include Damian because eventually he would take over and the cake would basically be made by him and not all of them, although he would’ve made it perfectly. DAMN HIM!

After 3 failed attempts they opted to buy a cake they knew Alfred would like from his favorite bakery downtown

Though they ruined the kitchen, Alfred was touched at the effort they put to try and make his favorite cake

Even though, none of them, except Damian, are allowed to cook or bake in the kitchen without his supervision

Back to Damian

It soon becomes evident as you spend more time with his family that Damian is jealous

Damian loves that you get along with his family, but he misses the quality time between just the two of you

You felt bad because you thought you were neglecting your boyfriend

So you made the executive decision to make it up to him

“My parents are out of town for the next two weeks”

“Business trip?”

“Yup. Do you want to spend the week?”

“No siblings?”

“Nope just you”

You lean in placing a soft kiss on his lips and pull back

You giggle when you see him lean in for more and he gives you an unamused look on his face because you refused to kiss him back

“So do you want to spend the week? We’ll have the place all to ourselves”

“Let's go. I already have my bag packed”

That entire week is just you and Damian hanging out and enjoying each others company

You give him all the kisses and cuddles he wants

He even knows just want to say to get more 😉

DAMN HIM!

OMG OMG OMG!!! I did it. Took me a hot minute but I got it done. I wish it was this easy with my assignments and homework. But I hope you enjoyed this.

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #Damian Wayne headcanon #first time writer #i hope you like this #batfam x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #cassandra cain x reader #stephanie brown x reader #Duke Thomas x reader #bruce wayne x you #damian wayne x you #damian al ghul x reader #damian al ghul #damian wayne x female reader

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sunflowergirl522 · 7 months

Text

Bats

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: you’re in Hawkins for the summer and you bite to show affection.

Word Count: 6109

Eddie Masterlist

You and Eddie have been dating for a while now. You went to a gig his band had and the two of you hit it off immediately. But living a few towns over from Hawkins and being in college you never got much of a chance to see him. So your relationship was mainly through the phone and letters. He’d drive over to your place every once in a while staying for a night or for the weekend but everytime you brought up going to see him he turned the thought down immediately. He was always quick to clarify that it wasn’t because he was seeing other girls or anything he just didn’t want it distracting you from your studies. You knew that though, when he was with you he’d make sure you studied even if you didn’t have a test and that you did your assignments awarding each section you did with a kiss, oftentimes more. But now it’s summer break and you’re on your way to spend a whole week in the Munson trailer.

“Why’re you so distracted today?” Max brings Eddie’s attention away from his trailer back to her as she bounces a soccer ball on her feet in front of him.

“I’m not distracted.” He rests his elbows on his knees as he leans forward.

“Then what was I saying?”

“Uh, something about Lucas’s latest fuck up.” He knows he’s wrong with his guess when she bursts into laughter.

“Dude what’s going on with you today? That wasn’t even close to being right.” She sits on the picnic table next to him.

“Y/n’s coming to stay for the week.” Max is really the only one out of the group that he talks to about you. They all know about you of course but he likes to keep you to himself so he doesn’t bring you up that much and he’s vague when they ask about you. But since Max is like the little sister he never knew he wanted he couldn’t ever seem to shut up about you when the two of them were together.

“Oh shit that’s this week?” She’s excited to meet you but at the news that you’ll be here today her stomach twists into knots. She’d never admit it to anyone, ever, but she’s anxious about if you’ll like her or not. And she desperately wants you to because Eddie’s the big brother she always wished she could’ve had in Billy and he’s always going on about how he’s gonna marry you someday. Max would love to have you fill in the older sister she never in a million years would’ve thought she could have.

“Yeah.” The smile on Eddie’s face calms her nerves a bit, happy to see him so happy. “I don’t know when she’s gonna get here though we didn’t talk about that last night.”

“It’s still early.” She offers up with a shrug but just as she finishes talking a car with muffled music blasting pulls in next to Eddie’s van in front of the trailer. The door opens and Eddie’s face lights up like the fourth of July as you step out, closing the door with a quick shove before looking up and locking eyes with him.

“Eddie!” He’s up and catching you in his arms before Max even realizes you’re running over. You’re in his arms for all of two minutes before you turn your head to bite into his bicep causing him to laugh.

“I can’t believe you’re here, Bats.”

“Me either, I almost got lost on my way.” You huff at the nickname before speaking. You were fine with it, thought it was cute even, until he told you about how he got the scars littering his body. ‘I can’t help it if you’re my vampire bat’ is his response when you bring up him not calling you it anymore. “I can’t wait to finally meet Wayne and everyone else.” Eddie talked about his friends a decent amount during calls and when he visited you and you’ve talked to Wayne on the phone a few times when he picked up instead of Eddie.

“Speaking of meeting everyone.” He steps back and over to reveal Max, his hand going to hold your own. “This is-”

“You must be Max!” You interrupt him knowing exactly who’s sitting in front of you. You’re all smiles and excitement that it completely erases her nerves for now and she couldn’t stop herself from matching your vibe if she wanted to.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. He goes on and on about you so often that I feel like I know everything about you!” She gets up to stand in front of you and her words somehow make your smile bigger. You squeeze his hand needing a way to let out all of the love that’s boiling over inside of you.

“Well Eddie absolutely raves about you! Talks about you the most out of everyone so much so that’s it’s crazy to think the two of you aren’t actually related.” You had even thought she was his sister for the longest time before asking him one day when he mentioned going to her place. Something that he had stumbled over his answer because no not really but also yes because that’s exactly how he sees her.

“He does, does he?” She doesn’t let it show just how much that means to her as she looks over at him with a smirk on her face.

“Now Red don’t go blabbing that to everyone, Dustin will never let it go.” He steps forward and brings you into his side wanting more contact with you, still not completely believing that you’re here in Hawkins with him. “Do you have a lot to unpack baby?”

“No, I just have my duffel and backpack.”

“Wanna get all situated and comfortable in the trailer then?”

“But I’ve barely met Max.”

“Max can come with us if she wants, I’ll make some lunch and we can watch a movie or something. You hungry?” You only start to nod before he starts to pull you back to the trailer. “C’mon Red, the lady requests your presence.”

“I really like Max.” You say to Eddie later that night when you’re cuddling into his chest in bed. You absolutely adore her just like you knew you would.

“Good.” He kisses the top of your head before smiling up at the ceiling. He was beyond ecstatic to have you in his arms again.

“I get to meet Wayne tomorrow right?” He was working a late shift tonight but Eddie insisted that you’d be able to see him then instead of staying up all night for it.

“Yeah, he’s off tomorrow so don’t worry about missing him.”

“Okay.” You prop yourself up on your arm then body hoving above his own. “What about everyone else? When do I get to meet them?”

“Well normally I’d be going to movie night tomorrow but I think I’m gonna keep you all to myself a little bit longer.” He pulls you back down on top of him as he speaks causing you to let out a squeal and some giggles.

“No, let’s go to movie night, it'll be fun. You get to have me all to yourself the day after when you show me around.”

“You really want to go meet everyone that badly?” Eddie’s eyes are shining as he makes eye contact with you as you place your forehead on his.

“More than anything.”

“Then I guess we can go.” He sighs out like it’s going to be the most painful thing in the world for him. You nip the tip of his nose, getting the urge to out of nowhere and his already playful eyes get a new glint in them. “Oh so that’s how it’s gonna be Bats?” He’s quick to flip you over, straddling your hips. “I give in to your begging and you bite me. How is that fair?” His hands are working into your sides before he finishes talking earning him screeching laughter in return.

“Eddie! Stop!” You gasp out the words and he pauses his ministrations just long enough for you to catch your breath and for him to slide his hands up your, his, shirt.

“What do I get if I stop?” His tone is both playful and menacing at the same time in a way that lets you know if whatever you say isn’t good enough he’ll keep going.

“I’ll give you a kiss.” He hums mock thinking about your offer, his hands roaming up and down your waist bathing in the feel of your skin on his.

“Nope, not good enough.”

“What?” You frantically try to back up to escape his hands just for him to drag you back down the bed.

“Give me a kiss and tell me you’ll love me forever.” He keeps his hands firmly on your sides and leans his face over yours.

“Of course I’ll love you forever Eddie bear.” Your voice goes soft and your arms wrap around his neck as you nuzzle his nose with your own. “Now how about that kiss?”

Eddie wakes up first the next morning with a smile on his face at having you in his arms and in his bed. The thought of getting up and leaving you crushing his soul but the thought of waking you up with breakfast in bed and being able to see you light up in gratitude urging him to do exactly that. So he pulls you closer for a minute before kissing your head and sliding out of his warm bed getting dressed and heading to the kitchen where he finds Wayne making coffee.

You don’t wake up much later than he does, the bed is still a little warm where he was sleeping when you do. You lay there for a few minutes beaming up at the ceiling that you’re actually here with him. It’s hard for you to normally be so far apart from him with your love languages being quality time and physical touch. The two of you always made up for the time apart when he would come visit but it was still rough. Which is why you’ve decided that after you graduate you’d move to Hawkins to be with him all the time. You’d been saving up long before even meeting Eddie to be able to get your own place after school so as long as he wants you here you’d do it.

You throw on one of his shirts and a pair of pajama pants before making your way out of the room excited to finally meet Uncle Wayne. You find both him and Eddie in the kitchen with Eddie making eggs and Wayne pouring his coffee.

“Is this the famous Y/n Y/l/n I’ve heard so much about?” Wayne smiles your way and Eddie whips around to look at you.

“Sure is!” You gnaw on your lip and shift your weight from one foot to the other wanting to go hug him like you would your own family member but hold yourself back knowing he’s not much of a physical touch kind of person.

“Bring it in kid.” He opens his arms for you and you let out a small happy laugh as you rush into them and accept the hug he offers. Something he doesn’t normally do but he doesn’t know what other way to thank you for loving his boy so much. Eddie can’t help the smile that overtakes his face as he watches it happen knowing how much it’s going to mean to you.

“What’re you doing up darlin’?” Eddie asks as he brings you into his arms after you part from Wayne. “I was gonna wake you up with breakfast.” He pouts resting his forehead on yours.

“Sorry baby, I tried waiting for you to come back but I got bored and I really wanted to meet Wayne.” You peck his still pouty lips forcing them into a smile before pulling away. “So what do you guys do around here?”

You end up spending most of the day binging The Waltons with the Munsons and doing a puzzle Wayne had lying around on the small table in the living room. By the time Eddie’s standing up and telling you it’s about time to get going for movie night you and Wayne have gotten to know each other well enough that you can tell he’s going to be fast family to you.

“Have I told you yet how pretty you look today?” Eddie asks as he holds your door open and watches you step out. You’re a sight in your jean shorts and one of Eddie’s Metallica shirts standing in Steve’s driveway in front of him. “Cause you’re pretty as a picture Bats.” He takes your hand in his own and leads the way to the door.

“I’ve told you before to stop calling me that.” You drop your lips into a fake pout as he knocks on the door.

“Why should I? I’ve got the marks from last night to prove you’re my own vampire bat.” He pulls the collar of his shirt out of the way to show off the hickeys and bite marks you left on his collarbones and shoulder a proud smile on his face as he does so.

“Woah, you burn yourself with a curling iron there Munson?” Steve teases as he opens the door, your eyes go wide and you can feel heat rising up your neck. Eddie’s unphased though, letting go of his shirt and turning to smirk at Steve.

“Can’t help it if my girl wants to latch onto me any chance she gets.” He pulls you into him and you pinch his side for his words.

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were meeting your girlfriend tonight.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n.” All you do is wave and smile as you wrap an arm around Eddie’s waist and hug yourself to him wanting to be as close to him as possible.

“I’m Steve, it’s nice to finally meet the reason for Eddie disappearing most weekends.”

“Are Eddie and y/n here?” Max appears behind Steve and you rush in to hug her.

“Max!”

“I didn’t think you guys were gonna make it.” She melts into your arms feeling deeply comforted by your bear hug.

“Eddie didn’t want to but I convinced him to come.” The two of you break apart and Eddie comes in to stand next to you and take your hand in his.

“Come on, now that we’re here Dustin will kill me if I don’t introduce you to him next.”

“Oh hey Eddie! Who’s this?” Robin asks him as she starts to come out of the kitchen as the two of you pass into the living room.

“Sorry Robin, can’t talk.” He keeps pulling you with him passing her by you’d stop him so you could just introduce yourself if you didn’t find the whole thing so amusing. “Dustin, I’ve got someone for you to meet.” He announces his presence getting the heads of the group already settled on the couches to turn to look at the two of you.

“No fucking way, what’s she doing here?” He excitedly gets up and makes his way over to the two of you.

“She’s here for a whole week. Y/n, Dustin, Dustin, Y/n.” His hand motions between the two of you as he does the introduction.

“Eddie talks about you all the time.” You look away from Dustin and up at Eddie who flushes pink at yet another one of his close friends admitting that to you.

“Yeah so much so I was starting to think you were a myth!” Eddie strides over to the couch to whack Mike in the back of the head leaving you in the entranceway of the living room. You look back over to Dustin after rolling your eyes at your boyfriend's actions.

“He talks about you a lot too. I heard all about that concert in that other realm or whatever the words Eddie used were.” Your face scrunches up as you try to recall what Eddie called that place as you step into the room Dustin leading the way back over to the couch.

“He told you about the upside down?” Dustin's eyes are wide as you nod. “And you believed him?”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s got the scars and PTSD to prove it.” When you and Eddie first started dating and he’d spend nights at your place he often had nightmares about it. You’d wake him up and assure him where he was before staying up almost the rest of the night with him trying to distract him from it.

“I think you’re all super brave for going through it. Especially because you were what twelve when you first had to deal with all of that? I was still scared of the boogeyman at that age.” You still felt uncomfortable being completely in the dark. “Bravest group of kids I’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting and knowing.” Your voice is soft and your attention isn’t on Dustin anymore and rather on Eddie laughing with the other kids but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t stop at the way you say the words, with a sense of pride and admiration for a group of kids you don’t even know.

Before he can figure what to say in response Eddie’s looking over at you with a big smile on his face and holds his hand out. Your own smile gets bigger and you rush forward taking it in your own and letting him pull you close to his side as he introduces you to the rest of the kids. The excitement is evident in the air around you as you greet everyone.

“She’s nice right?” Max stops next to Dustin just a few steps from the entrance. “I can definitely see why Eddie fell for her so fast.”

“Yeah. You met her then?”

“Yep, I hung out with them all day yesterday when she got to town.” She smirks at Dustin before heading over to the group. The two of them constantly compete with each other over who’s Eddie’s favorite. So this is going to come across as a big win for her.

“Oh. Wait what? Eddie!”

Movie night was fun and you absolutely loved meeting Eddie’s little community of friends, his family. Which isn’t something he’s used to describe them in the past but seeing them all interact with each other you know that’s what they are. You and Robin even planned a day for her to steal you away from Eddie for an hour or two to hangout.

It warmed Eddie’s heart to see you get along so well with everyone. He can’t even start to describe the feeling in his chest as he sees you leaning against his van with Max her head thrown back laughing at something you said as the two of you wait for him to finish saying bye.

“I gotta ask, what’s up with the biting?” Steve asks from his spot next to Eddie in the doorway. You had bitten him a total of only twice during the movie so he hadn’t really expected anyone to notice it much.

Once was shortly after everyone got seated and the movie was starting. Eddie had kissed the top of your head causing you to recline it back from your spot on the floor between his legs so you could look up at him in his spot on the couch. He gave you a quick peck, gaining a smile and a squeeze of his calf before you turned your attention back to the tv only shortly after turning your head to gently bite right above his knee.

The second time was near the end of the movie. Eddie had been tracing your face lightly with the tips of his fingers and when you began to feel like you were going to burst of all your adoration with how soft he was being with you in front of his friends, something no one had ever done for you, you bit his finger the next time it traced over your lips.

“It’s just the way she shows her love.” Eddie shrugs in response. “She either bites or squeezes, it’s like second nature to her, I don’t even think she realizes she does it sometimes.” Sometimes he thought it was like breathing or blinking to you. “It’s cute.”

You look over then and catch his eyes with your own and blow a kiss to him. Eddie’s smile widens as he makes a show of catching it and Steve and Robin share a look with each other. Neither of them had ever seen him smile that big before.

“Love drunk is a good look on you Eds!” She laughs as she speaks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so full of life and that’s really saying something. You’re naturally extravagant. Get out of here and join your girl.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you around Eddie.”

“Bye guys.” He barely glances back at them, waving over his head, not wanting to take his eyes off of you still deep in conversation with Max. Really he should tell them how he’s glad they liked you and all but all he can think to do is go pull you into his arms and relish in the feeling of having you close until you inevitably have to go back home at the end of the week.

Eddie fell for you harder and faster than he ever thought would’ve been possible. It wasn’t love at first sight but when he spotted you in the bar in your goddamn homemade Prancing Pony shirt he should’ve known that you were going to be it for him. Instead he just made it his mission to find you after their set to ask you about it which only led to the two of you talking so late into the night that your friend went home and his bandmates all piled into Jeff's car rather than wait for Eddie to be done. It wasn’t until your third date, which was only three weeks after meeting each other, because Eddie could listen to you talk forever and never wanted to stop talking to you so he came up every weekend to take you out, that he realized you were the one for him and he doubted anyone would ever live up to you. Luckily enough for him your mind was on that same track.

“You ready to go Sweetheart?” Eddie kisses the side of your head as he sidles up next to you wrapping his hand around yours.

“Yep, just waiting on you baby.” You squeeze his hand once, twice, three times before pushing off the van. “C’mon Max, I’ll open the back door for you.”

The next day instead of Eddie giving you a tour of Hawkins the two of you end up just curled around each other in bed just enjoying each other's company only getting up to eat. You told him about how you passed all your finals, to which he told you how proud he was of his smart girl and how he knew you could do it, and caught him up on all the gossip in your small college friend group with him hanging onto your every word. Eddie told you about how the bands doing and how you’ll be able to sit through practice this week if you wanted to, to which you sat up in excitement because A that meant you got to see the guys again and B you got to see them all perform again, and he told you stories from when he was growing up in the trailer park.

The day after that Eddie gives you the tour he promised you complete with his favorite places like the picnic table in the woods around the school where he spent a lot of his high school years, the library where he’s planned countless campaigns, and the movie theater where he ends up going all the time with the gang. He took you to lunch at the diner that’s officially replaced Benny’s and then dropped you off at Robin’s telling you he’ll pick you up on his way to Gareth’s.

In the hour and a half that you were over you got to know Robin, the two of you deciding that you’ll be great friends, and you got to meet Nancy. She had shown up about forty minutes after you did. Robin had just greeted her casually while shuffling the cards for the next round of five hundred forgetting that the two of you hadn’t met yet. It was silent for a minute as Nancy looked between you and Robin before she seemed to remember and quickly introduced the two of you. By the time Eddie showed up to take you with him to practice the three of you were in stitches after sharing stories and telling jokes to each other.

“I’m so excited to see the boys again.” You say to Eddie as the two of you walk to the van. You’ve only seen them twice, the first time being the night you met Eddie and the second time being around two months ago because Gareth was craving the wings at the bar they had played at and Eddie had shown up at your door that night to bring you with them, but they were cool and you enjoyed their company.

“I’m sure they’re excited to see you too.” They’ve asked about you a few times since the last time they saw you, about how you’re doing and if he’s gonna let you come visit him anytime soon. Eddie hasn’t said anything about you coming to practice this week so he’s sure they’ll be at least surprised to see you. “Did you enjoy hanging out with Robin?” He places his hand on your knee as he drives away from her house.

“Yeah, I got to meet Nancy. She’s nice.”

“Huh, I thought she was in school for another week. She must’ve just gotten back.”

“I think she said something about getting back yesterday. And something about Jonathan, that’s Will’s brother right?”

“Yeah, they’ve been dating for a while now. I think they’ve been going through a rough patch since she started college though.”

“That sucks.” He pulls up to Gareth's house and stops in front of it then. The garage is open and you can see the guys standing around and talking. They look up as they hear Eddie’s door shut.

“Hey man! Didn’t realize you were here without your music blasting.”

“Yeah well I have a special guest with me this time.”

“Hey guys!” You wave as you round the van and walk up to the garage with Eddie. The group breaks into cheers at the sight of you asking how you’ve been and playfully bullying Eddie for not telling them you were in town. It took them an extra half an hour to start practice so they could catch up with you beforehand.

“What’re we doing for my last day tomorrow?” You ask later that night head rested on his chest. You didn’t even want to think about it being your last full day with your lovely loving boyfriend but you know that you have to face it sooner than later.

“I don’t know. Probably tie you up or lock you in a cage so you can’t leave and I get to keep you forever.” He shrugs and gives you a teasing smile as he repositions himself to be propped up on his elbow.

“C’mon Eddie be serious.” You poke his side amused with his taunts.

“I could call Max, have her come over for a movie day. Because as much as I want to keep you to myself she’d want to see you too.” He could tell after that first day how attached she was already getting to you.

“That sounds nice. Maybe we could get that takeout you always rave about since you still haven’t had me try it?”

“That sounds perfect.” He brings you closer to his chest just wanting to feel your skin on his even more. You nip at his shoulder making his smile widen. “I can pick it up and then get your favorite movies on the way back.”

“Perfect.” You yawn through the word and cuddle closer to him.

“G’night Bats.”

“Night Eddie.”

The next morning you wake up to Eddie peppering kisses over your face and shoulders immediately bringing a soft sleepy smile to your face. It’s almost noon by the time the two of you made it out of bed and you went straight to making breakfast while Eddie called Max the girl showing up within minutes after hanging up.

“Smells good in here for once.” She chimes as she crosses through the door.

“That’s because I don’t leave the stove on too high while I cook so the food doesn’t burn. Unlike some people.” You shoot a pointed look towards Eddie who had almost completely burned breakfast the other day before Wayne had shooed him away to take over.

“What’re you making?” Max makes her way into the kitchen and you give her the task of helping cook the sausage while Eddie gets plates down.

The three of you sit down and eat, falling into a comfortable silence at times where none of you can think of anything to say. You ask Max about soccer to which she lights up with excitement while she speaks and Eddie tells her about how you grew up playing sports with your cousins on the weekends in your backyard and how you could probably help her practice better than he does since you know more about the game than him. That led to Max asking you questions aimed specifically at figuring out how much you know while Eddie watches and listens in with a smile on his face at how his girls light up as the two of you talk.

The two of you are left there talking about the different sports you watched your cousins play when he leaves to get the take out and stop at Family Video. And when he gets home with food and three of your favorite movies you’ve both migrated to the kitchen to do dishes where Max is telling you animatedly about the time she had a particularly nasty fall while skateboarding recently.

“Red came crying to me to clean her boo boos.” Eddie announces his presence with his joking tone placing the movies and food on the coffee table before joining the two of you in the kitchen.

“I did not!” Max scoffs rolling her eyes while you chuckle at the two of them bickering.

“You totally did, you were bawling like you were a baby again.”

“You’re such a liar! You were the one who started panicking and making me sit down so you can take care of me.” You smile just knowing that that’s actually what happened while Eddie wraps his arms around you from behind.

“You could’ve gotten an infection.” He defends himself before resting his head on the side of your neck, kissing it softly. “Hey baby. You know you don’t have to do the dishes right? I can take care of them tomorrow.”

“Too late, they’re already done.” You put the last plate over to the side to dry before turning to wipe your wet hands on his shirt.

“You did not just do that.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” You shrug and try to move away before he grabs you.

“God get a room you two.” Max says before the two of you can start fighting.

“You should change your shirt Eddie baby. I’ll set up the take out and we’ll pick one of the movies.” You peck his lips before moving away and joining the girl in the living room. “Alright Max, Muppets Take Manhattan, The Thing, or Spaceballs to start with?”

“I’ve never seen Spaceballs.”

“Never seen Spaceballs?! That’s first then. Eddie! Why haven’t you ever shown her one of the funniest movies we’ve ever seen?”

“Woah!” His hands go up in surrender at your small glare. “Calm down, it only came out last year so I haven’t had the time to.”

“Besides, aren't you glad you get to be the one to show it to her?” He adds after taking the movie from you while dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

“Okay, yeah you’re right.” You go to the take out bags to place the food on the table while Max sits next to you on the couch.

Max is asleep by the time the third movie is over, having dozed off somewhere in the middle. And even though it’s only a little after nine you can feel yourself succumbing to sleep as you lean further into Eddie’s chest. You’re stirred slightly out of it when he leans forward for the remote to eject the tape from the VCR, even more so when your source of comforting warmth gets up to take the tape out.

“Let’s get you to bed Sweetheart.” He speaks to you after placing it on the table.

“What about Max?” You yawn, standing up and taking his hand letting him pull you in the direction of his room.

“She’s fine there. Fallen asleep here enough times that Wayne won’t be surprised to find her on the couch when he gets home. I’ll ring her place to let her mom know she’s here after I get you in bed.”

“And then you’ll come join me?”

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.”

You fight with sleep the whole five minutes he’s gone from the room not wanting to waste time sleeping when you leave in the morning. You still fight it after he joins you in bed and wraps his arms around you.

“Hey Eds?” You turn to face him after a couple beats of silence.

“Hm?” He hums in response, clearly starting to fall asleep himself. He’d never normally fall asleep this early but when it comes to falling asleep with you he can’t help it.

“What if I came to Hawkins after my next semester?”

“That’d be great. Though hopefully you’ll be coming to visit again before then.”

“What if it wasn’t a visit? What if I came here permanently?” That wakes him up and his eyes shoot open and his mouth drops as he tries to figure out what to say. “I’ll be done with my degree then and besides my parents and the couple of friends I’ll be leaving school with there’s nothing tethering me there. But here there’s you and Wayne and there’s Max. And I think Robin and I could become really good friends. I’ve been saving up for a while, longer than I’ve known you, for my own place so I figure why not just get my own place here. It would be great if you could say something to stop my rambling so I don’t start thinking you’re against the idea or that you might not want me here.”

“Of course I want you here!” He’s snapped out of his daze quicker than you’ve ever seen him snap out of anything ever. “It’s just insane to think that you want to come stay here. I’ve spent most of my life wanting to leave and hating this town just for you to want to live here.”

“Well I didn’t want to ask you about coming to me. You have a whole family here despite how little you seem to realize that. And Hawkins isn’t that bad, it’s really a nicer town than some of the places near me. And if I move here no one will ever give you shit again because then they’ll have to deal with me and I’ll bite their ears off.”

“Of course you will Bats. Put that biting of yours to good use.” He laughs before holding you tighter to him. “If you really wanna do that, move here after you graduate, Hawkins would be a better place for it.”

The next morning after you pack your things into your car and say bye to Max who demanded you call her and write her letters to keep in touch while you’re gone you hug Eddie goodbye with a smile on your face despite how much you already miss him.

“I’ll come back near the end of next month alright? We can start looking at trailers or apartments then.”

“I’ll be counting down the days Bats.”

Eddie Taglist (29/40):@sadbitchfangirl @notbeforelong @navs-bhat @emotionaldreamer @fangirling-4-ever @gaysludge @eddiethesexy @mazerunnerrose @midnightsgetawaycar @mushroomelephant @saramelaniemoon @nojamsonmytoast @vintagehellfire @esoltis280 @spikedhe4rt @siriuslysmoking @toobsessedsstuff @alana4610 @gretavanfleas @sparkletash @aactuaaltraash @spookyemorockbabe @jesssssmaybankk @tlclick73 @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead @bl4ckt00thgr1n @eli-flower @canyonmooncreations

Everything Taglist: @matchamunson @bubsonnobx @practicalghost @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts @rory-cakes

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine

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harrywavycurly · 7 months

Text

Eternal Obsession Part 3: The Van

Masterlist: Here

TW: None

Tag List: @dream-a-little-nightmare @josephquinnsfreckles @chickenandsheep-blog @sweetmoonlove0214 @justheretoreadleavemealone @eddiesgirlforever @ali-r3n @joantje @mrsjellymunson @munsons-mayhem28 @manda-panda-monium @cherrymedicine13 @hazydespair

A/N: I am so excited for the next part where we finally get to see Steve and Eddie together! I hope y’all like this and sorry in advance if it kinda sorta makes you sad✨

“Eddie?” You barley get the word out before you feel arms wrapping around your waist from behind making you squeal before you relax because of course it’s just Eddie.

“This is a nice surprise.” You just shrug as you turn around in his arms so you can get a good look at him. This being the first time you’ve ever visited him at work you weren’t at all prepared to see his face with a few grease marks on it and his hair in a high bun making his jawline seem more prominent while his chest, covered only by a thin white tank top allowing you to still faintly see his tattoos, is tucked into his black skinny jeans.

“Uhm I uh-”

“Need a moment my darling?” He teases as he leans in and places a kiss on your forehead before he leans down so he can place his lips next your ear. “You look delectable today by the way.” You swallow hard as he pulls away after placing a sweet kiss just below your ear, you know your cheeks are bright red but Eddie doesn’t pay any attention as his arms unwrap from around your waist.

“You’re being rude.” You huff making Eddie laugh as you cross your arms over your chest. You try to look away from him but he gently places his hands on the sides of your face, you can’t help but lean into his cool touch making him smile as he leans in and gives you a soft kiss to your lips.

“Forgive me?” You just nod in response making him grin, his hands leave your face so he can turn and grab one of your hands to lead you out of his office and back into the garage where he’s currently in the middle of working on a minivan. “So what can I do for you sweetheart?” He asks as he leads you to the back of the garage where he keeps his break area.

“I just wanted to see where you work.” You explain as Eddie takes a seat on the worn out couch, wasting no time in pulling you onto his lap.

“Is this what you pictured?” He asks as he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck as you get comfortable in his lap. You take a moment to look around and you raise an eyebrow when you see the name of his garage on a sign above the clock on the wall.

“Who’s Wayne?” Eddie’s movements pause for a brief moment before his arms snake around your middle.

“He was my dad.” You can hear a hint of pain in Eddie’s voice as he answers your question. “He taught me everything I know about fixing cars so only felt right to name the place after him when I finally got around to opening it.” You feel him place a kiss to the top of your head as he pulls you closer to him so your back is flush against his chest.

“Do you think he’d like me?” Eddie laughs as you grab his left hand from your waist and begin playing with the skull ring he wears on his index finger.

“Oh yeah he’d love you he’d especially enjoy hearing you call me annoying.” You smile as you twist the ring off his finger and place it on your much smaller one. “And he’d probably smack me upside the head a few times when you tell him I don’t let you have any space and threaten to kick my ass if I mess this up.” You giggle as Eddie places a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Eddie? You in here?” Before you can even blink your being lifted up and gently placed back down on the sofa as Eddie stands up and heads to the entrance of the garage.

“What do you need now Dustin?” Eddie’s voice is playful as you watch him cross his arms over his chest as what appears to be an older teenager with a head full of curls walks through the door.

“Can I borrow your van?” You raise an eyebrow at Dustin’s question because you’ve never seen Eddie drive a van you’ve only seen him with his motorcycle but most of the time when he’s with you he walks everywhere.

“Absolutely not.” You laugh at the face Dustin makes causing both him and Eddie to turn and look in your direction making your cheeks get hot as Dustin stares at you. “Don’t.” Eddie warns as he sees Dustin take a small step in your direction.

“Is that-“

“None of your business? Yes.” You all of a sudden feel nervous as Dustin’s eyes never leave yours.

“She’s cute.” Eddie rolls his eyes as Dustin gives you a small smile before Eddie smacks him upside the head.

“Keep your thoughts to yourself Henderson.” You just return Dustin’s smile before he looks away from you and up at Eddie who is glaring at him. “Why do you need the van?” Dustin rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as he rubs at the back of his neck.

“Well we are having a little uh get together Friday and I’m in charge of making sure everyone gets there…uhm on time.” Eddie tilts his head to the side as he looks Dustin up and down like he’s trying to gage if he’s telling the truth or not.

“A get together?” Eddie asks and Dustin just nods his head as he turns around and reaches for a wrench on the work bench he was leaning against. “And who’s throwing this little shindig?” You watch Dustin’s shoulders slump before he slowly turns back around to face Eddie.

“Steve.” Eddie just nods as Dustin stares at the ground mentally preparing for the lecture he knows Eddie is about to give him.

“I’ll let you borrow the van on one condition.” Dustin raises an eyebrow as he looks up at Eddie who has a small smirk on his face. “Tell Steve I’ll see him Friday.” You know your face matches Dustin’s as you watch his mouth slightly fall open at Eddie’s statement.

“What?” Eddie ignores Dustin’s question and the shock in his voice as he reaches into his back pocket for a set of keys. “Why? You two hate each other.” Dustin barley catches the keys that Eddie tosses at him as he heads back to where you’re sitting on the sofa.

“I have a few things I’d like to talk to him about.” Dustin rolls his eyes as he puts the keys in his pocket. You smile at Eddie as he takes a seat next to you instantly putting his arm over your shoulder pulling you closer to him.

“Talk with actual words? Or are you two just going to beat the sh-“

“Language.” Dustin just huffs as Eddie interrupts him before he can say the cuss word. “Now do you need something else or are you just trying to get on my nerves?” You look from Eddie to Dustin who just lets out an annoyed groan before looking at you and giving you a soft smile.

“Nice meeting you.” You just lift your hand up in a small wave before Dustin turns and walks towards the front of the garage.

“He’s a little young to be a vampire isn’t he?” You ask as the sound of a car starting lets you know Dustin is out of hearing range.

“Yes…he’s only seventeen.” Eddie answers as his hold on you tightens, you hear him let out a long sigh before his lips press a kiss to the top of your head. “But Steve doesn’t care how old you are…if you ask him to turn you…he will.” You can tell there’s more to that explanation but you also know if Eddie wants to talk about something he will and if he doesn’t he will do everything in his power to avoid the subject altogether.

“Dustin asked to be turned?” You ask shyly not being able to imagine why someone that young would want to spend the rest of eternity as a vampire.

“Well if all your friends got turned and you were the only one left wouldn’t you do just about anything to fit in?” You feel your face drop as Eddie explains the reasoning behind why Dustin asked Steve to turn him. “It doesn’t help that Steve advertises the life of a vampire to be some wonderful thing where you never have to grow up and there’s no rules…like some sort of twisted version of Neverland and he thinks he’s Peter Pan leading his lost boys.” You can practically feel the anger radiating off of Eddie as his grip on you gets to be almost a little too tight.

“Can I have this?” Your question takes Eddie by surprise as you gently slide the skull ring off his index finger. You don’t know why you want it but the idea of having something that belong to him makes you smile as you slip it onto your thumb.

“You can have anything of mine that you want.” You know he’s serious and you just smile as he plays with his ring that’s now on your thumb.

“Anything? Really?” You ask as you look up at him, his eyes turn a lighter shade of brown as they stare back into yours making your heartbeat a little faster as you watch him slowly lean down so his lips are a few inches from yours.

“Yes.” You close your eyes as his lips meet yours in a brief kiss. “Just say the word and it’s yours…whatever you want.” He adds before his lips are on yours, you feel him smile against your lips as you try to turn around in his hold so you can deepen the kiss but as usual he’s quick to pull away. “If I could actually die you’d most certainly be the death of me.” You just huff as he places a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re being mean today.” Eddie just laughs as he pulls you into his lap and places kisses all over your neck until you squirm and let out a few small giggles.

“I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret that’s all.” He tries to explain as his assault on your neck stops as he rests his chin on the top of your head. “I love you.” You smile as he wraps his arms around your middle.

“I know.” Eddie smiles as he feels your soft hands grab his and interlock your fingers with his own. He gives your hands a little squeeze as you lean back and get comfortable in his lap. “Can you say it again?” You mumble as you turn your head so you can look at him.

“I love you.” His voice is soft as he looks down at you. “You’re my everything.” You smile as he leans down to kiss to tip of your nose. He knows you’ll say it back eventually and until then Eddie doesn’t mind telling you how he loves you over and over again if that’s what you need from him he will gladly do it because when it comes to you there’s nothing Eddie won’t do.

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