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somnambulic-thing · 1 year

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Eddie Munson x gn!reader with vagina&boobs

Rating: E, nsfw, 18+ Words: 3.9k read on ao3

smoke and cherry pop rocks Summary: You’ve been silently in love with Eddie for years and he’s leaving Hawkins soon. You want one kiss before he does. He gives you more than that.

CW/tags: no upside-down, angst, fluff, first times, grief, open end, reader has regrets, coming of age (everybody is over 18 though), smut, piv penetration, oral for everybody, lovemarks/bruises, rough sex, sex in public places, nicknames

A/N: In case: Pop Rocks are candy that pops and fizzes in your mouth. I hurt myself with this one, but growing pain is what it is.

If you like and enjoy this little story, let me know. I’d love to hear from you.

It had been dry the past few weeks. So dry that your feet are kicking up small clouds of dirt where the paved roads of Forest Hills trailer park turn into gravelled paths, making your throat itchy and the inside of your mouth feel just as dry.

You’ve been to the trailer park before but never figured out which trailer was home to Eddie Munson. Had, in fact, avoided finding out. You have a rule when it comes to Eddie and you are about to break it.

The rule was simple enough: Don’t.

Don’t get too close.

Don’t get lost in those eyes, that wit, that kaleidoscope mind.

Don’t let him get too close.

Don’t.

He had been a Senior and you a Sophomore when you created that rule, your crush at first nothing more than a light tickling on the back of your neck and some innocent thoughts about a kiss from those ever-smirking lips. He’d been prickly, snapped at you more than once when he caught you casting not-so-secret glances across hallways until one day, he didn’t. Until one day, he said hi.

And then he had been a Senior and you a Junior and he had given you a ride home, picking you off the street with sweet words and gentle hands after your bike betrayed you and the asphalt scraped the skin off your knees and palm. He walked you to your door to make sure you wouldn’t faint or something even though you clearly felt alright, insisting on taking care of your bike.

“I know what I’m doing. That way I’m sure it won’t give up on you again. Don’t want this to keep me up at night.”

His graduation had been only a few months away that day - or so you‘d thought - and as he stood there, so close, smiling at you, arms crossed over his chest and unable to stand still your whole body had screamed Don’t. He’ll be gone and it will rip you apart.

And then he had been a Senior and so had you and Eddie slipped you pieces of paper during class; little silly drawings to make you smile on days you didn’t feel like it. He held doors for you when you were still half a hallway away and remembered your birthday without you ever telling him the date, singing for you in the school parking lot.

Despite your best efforts to stay away, there had been many and many small moments that had felt like lurking avalanches - a few close calls - but one way or the other, you had walked away unscathed. Right?

You had both graduated three days ago.

Eddie had walked the stage, snatched his diploma and raised two of the happiest middle fingers you had ever seen into the air and bolted like the devil was behind him. You wanted to kiss him. Kiss him so badly. While you still could.

But you didn’t.

Eddie would leave Hawkins soon. He’d found a spot as a roadie, hoisting equipment for a thrash metal band. “Not even a bad one,” he had smirked, radiating excitement. You remember the afternoon he told you about it with painful clarity. He was going to make connections, be a good sport, flex his skills on the guitar whenever an opportunity revealed itself. He had a whole plan.

Eddie would leave soon and you would go to college and so you had said so long tohim with a straight face that felt like it was on fire and that finally was the end of your ordeal. Right?

You already miss him.

So now you’re at the trailer park and your mouth is dry and no matter how much you tell yourself it’s just the dust or the unusual heat or the fact that you had walked here for almost an hour without so much as a sip of water, you knew the real reason was Eddie.

You spot his van first.

And then you spot him. Stretching out on his back on the floor of the small deck in front of the trailer. One arm under his head, his feet bopping to a tune in his mind, tendrils of smoke rising up from his face like ephemeral poems. Golden hour was only minutes away and already the sun tinted everything in this light that had the color of bittersweet memories.

You place your feet carefully, eager to stay unnoticed as long as you can, not ready to leave this limbo yet. He was just beautiful like this; even in inertia, Eddie was a wild thing.

He turns his head at last; you don’t stop, don’t falter even though inside of you everything screams Don’t.

You see him squint, the low and glaring sun behind you shrouding you just a little longer giving you a few more precious seconds to clear your mind, to prepare your words.

Except it doesn’t. He recognizes you anyway.

Over the distance, you hear your name spoken in that voice that had made you jump on your first day in High School; he’d been running late and barged into the wrong classroom. His hair had been shorter, sticking out in every direction like he was electric, made of storm. The voice is deeper now, rougher, but you would recognize it underwater. You hear it in your dreams.

“Hi, Eddie,” says your mouth while your mind says Don’t.

“You, uh, got lost or something?

“No,” you say and come to a halt. With you, you bring your shadow and you cast it over his face. His features relax, the squint disappears and you look down into pitch-black eyes. “I was looking for you.”

“For me?”

“For you.”

“You, like, wanna… buy something green or…?”

“For you.”

Where once sleeves had been on his shirt were now big holes reaching down to his waist, the fabric rolling in slightly at the raw edges where he’d cut along. You can see the pale skin spanning over his ribcage, can see the rise and fall, can see the ink.

Eddie looks at you in silence. You even like the way he doesn’t talk.

Don’t.

He starts to move, eyes fixed on you as he sits up, places his palms on the floor, rings click-clacking softly, cigarette butt coughing bitter tufts of smoke from between his fingers. He pushes himself around in one swift motion, crossing his legs, bare feet covered in dust, and faces you.

Your mouth is dry, is arid, is a desert.

“What do you mean for me?”

DON’T, it screams.

Ah, shut the fuck up, you answer.

“Have you ever heard of anticipatory grief?”

He blinks, fast, tilts his head, tilts the corners of his mouth down.

“Hmm, nope,” he shakes his head, “but I think I… get the gist. Why? You came to ask me this?”

“I came to kiss you.”

“What?”

“That is, if you want me to... To kiss you.”

The cigarette has snuffed out between his fingers and he throws it away into an unseen distance, his eyes searching your face for clues. You give him a smile.

“Are you for— for real?”

You nod.

“You’re not messing with me? Because that would be a fucked up thing to do.”

Your heart rushes the blood through your veins like a torrent, you feel it pool on your cheeks.

“Eddie,” you say the way you always wanted to. Soft and longing. “I had a crush on you for so long…” You close your eyes. “Years... Still have.”

“Shit! I… uh, shit.” You hear only crickets and a lawn mower in the distance and you wonder if he has vanished into thin air. “Could you, like, look at me?”

It takes effort, but you do.

“You… you never...”

“I know.”

“Why now? Why—“ You can see him think, putting crooked pieces together. “Anticipatory grief?”

“Fuck, you’re clever.”

His head draws back, his brows draw together; it looks like he’s drawing the wrong conclusion. “So you, what? Expected me to be an ass about it? To mess with you?”

“Not all that clever then,” you smirk and Eddie looks confused.

“Well, fuck you, milady,” he says with a tense smile and waves a hand through the air. You want to evaporate, flow through those fingers. “But you’re making no sense to me right now. Help me out?”

“You’re leaving soon.”

“Wait, wait, wait: you said years.”

A laugh is tickling you to let it out, you hold it back and sigh. “I thought for years you’d be leaving soon.”

“Shit,” he almost barks, fingers stilling an itch on his temple. Then he laughs and you do too.

You step closer, leaving only a few feet between you while the laughter is softly running out. And then he breathes in deep into his lungs; holds it holds it holds it. Oh to envy the air so much, it was embarrassing.

“Why now?”

“I don’t know—”

“Bullshit.”

“Eddie…”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

His chest expands again, you see him clenching his fists before he rests his hands on his thighs, ringed fingers splayed wide on black denim.

“Say my name like that—”

“I’m sorry—“

“Answer my question, sweetheart.”

“Don’t do that.”

It’s like a dance somehow, no, not quite, but you’re feeling out of breath and the rhythm is addictive.

“Answer my question…” and then he smiles, pulls his hands to his face, palms pressed together like in prayer, “…sweetheart.”

Asshole, you think losing the fight against a shiver.

“Because,” he says, propping his sharp yaw against his knuckles, “I would have been in on it in a heartbeat. On a date. Or something. Anything, really.”

You say his name like that again and hide your face inside your palms, seeking refuge from your past decisions. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Yeah, fuck that. You started this. I’m just, ahm, levelling the playing field,” he laughs a little bitterly. “T’s not like I won’t think about some if’s and could have been’s now, ya know?”

You can’t look up. You want to ask him if he heard of spontaneous self-combustion before but then he holds the match that sets you on fire.

“I always liked you.”

The groan escaping you is muffled by your palms. “So why did you never say something?”

There is a tap on your shoulder, the sudden touch startling you out of your stupor, and when you come up his warm palms almost feel cool on your heated face.

And Eddie kisses you.

A high-pitched noise escapes your throat, your hands fly to his wrists, holding on like vices because he tastes like smoke and cherry pop rocks and like endless summer skies and the world is spinning as much as his lips are soft and he sighs a little and—

Eddie is kissing you!

You take a step forward, your stomach hits the deck and you wind your fingers through his hair. The roots are damp with sweat and he sighs again when you pull. He opens his mouth to welcome you in, to lick at you with his cherry tongue and steal your breath right from your lungs and—

And then it ends. Time has never passed so fast.

The dissonance of your laboured breathing hangs between you like a chance, a peek, a warning; Eddie won’t let go of your face and you won’t let go of his.

And then he smiles. “Was good?”

You nod. “Too short.”

“Wanna come up here for more?”

Eddie’s laugh echoes through the trailer park as you scramble to climb up the deck. You knock him over, or maybe you don’t, because his hands are already on your arms and pull you with him to the floor. It doesn’t matter one way or the other. What matters is his tongue in your mouth, the hard edge of his teeth against yours and his skin under your wandering fingertips.

The sun is setting.

Eddie is still kissing you when it leaves this day for good.

Wedged between your thighs he now and then whispers little secrets to your skin.

You are so pretty.

You smell so good.

You’re making me so hard.

Eddie’s throat tastes like salt and summer dust; he likes it when you bite him.

I never said a thing because I thought you wouldn’t want me.

Because wanting you scares me.

Because you always were so distant—

when I came close.

“I’m so stupid,” you confess.

“Not stupid, sweetheart.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” He speaks those words into your mouth as if to share the bitterness.

I’m glad you came.

I’m glad you’re here.

I want you to stay.

I want you to stay. And if it’s only for one night…

Eddie’s room is a mess but his bed is soft. So is the light, illuminating chaos you had imagined countless times before but it’s no match for the chaos inside you. There’s so much you want to say, but so much skin to kiss. You fill the spaces in between.

“Sometimes,” you pant, his lips against your throat, “I sneak into your concerts.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” he says, almost ripping your shirt, sucking on your breasts.

“I love the sound of your voice.”

“You mean that?”

You nod, straddling his thighs, unbuttoning his pants. “I wanna hear you moan.”

Eddie moans for you when you sink down on his cock.

You feel so good.

I can’t believe it.

Neither can you. For the day began with a dragging sense of emptiness and now you are so full of him it’s driving you insane. He moans your name while you ride him, while you show him how you feel in a way words can’t.

You’re so warm.

So soft.

I wanna taste your pussy.

The secrets stop as he licks at you with fervour; but not the moans. Eddie is spoiling you with those and you’re spoiling him with praises.

He’s careful with his fingers, almost like he’s scared. You tell him where to touch, how to move and he thanks you with his eyes; shining and wide and full of pride and wonder as you tense around his fingers, twitch under his tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie, please…”

Eddie is rough. You want him to wreck you.

I want you to remember this with your whole body.

I wanna make you breakfast.

I’m leaving in two weeks. Two weeks. Gimme those two weeks.

“Yeah,” you moan against his neck. “I’ll give you anything.”

“Don’t— don’t do that.”

“For two weeks,” you shove your hand under his chin, you make him look at you. He’s so deep inside of you it’s hard to think but this is easy: “For two weeks, I’ll give you anything.”

Eddie kisses you; he tastes like you, like you, like you and nothing else. With one hand he pins your wrists above your head and fucks you like there’s no tomorrow.

When he falls asleep on your chest, you whisper little secrets of your own.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

I’m so in love with you.

Eddie makes you breakfast. His uncle looks happy and confused; he wants you to call him Wayne. Dramatic eyes seem to be a Munson thing. Wayne makes you laugh with stories about Eddie, Eddie makes you laugh with being flustered and shy. When it’s just you and Wayne for a moment, he slips you a picture of a younger Eddie. Hair short, guitar too big for him. You hide it away like a treasure.

You promised each other two weeks so he gives the car shop an early notice to make time.

“But you need the money, Eddie.”

“I can’t buy this with money, sweetheart.”

“But—“

Eddie likes to shut you up with kisses. It’s not fair, you tell him. He doesn’t give a fuck, he tells you.

You have fourteen days and Eddie’s head is in your lap, a guitar on his chest and he plays for you; melody soft and sad, smile sharp and wide under your adoration. Even little quarrels feel like blessings because the make up is so sweet. Later, he takes you downtown where he never lets go of your hand and licks ice cream off your face.

I wrote this the day you scraped your knees.

I don’t mind you being stubborn when you kiss me like that.

You taste better without it.

Twelve days and you wake up in his arms; he keeps you in bed for hours. Soft kisses, roaming hands and never a moment of silence, you and Eddie sharing everything your minds provide, making every second count. In the evening, Eddie takes you to see a movie. He makes you come twice. You walk back to the trailer park, barefooted.

I still can’t believe you’re here.

I could listen to your thoughts for hours.

I want to fuck you in weird places.

Ten days and Eddie rolls a joint for you to share. You smoke on the roof of the trailer, making up silly names for constellations, laughing till your stomachs hurt. Then you fuck him, palms pressed to his chest, keeping him down. You draw it out till the sun comes up behind you, leaving him a mumbling mess, the corrugated metal of the roof leaving bruises on his back. You kiss them all; they are your favorite color.

I don’t want to leave anymore.

“But I’m leaving too.”

“I know.”

Seven days and Eddie packs you a picnic. It’s mostly junk food and you both feel full and lazy, like turned-over beetles, giggling like children in the high grass at the shore of Lovers Lake. You find clouds that look like dicks and whales and guitars and it’s all a bit of the same, really, and you bully Eddie out of his clothes because the water looks so nice and cool.

I used to come here with my mother.

It’s good to leave here laughing.

I’ll miss your laugh. So much.

Four days and Corroded Coffin play their last show. You are the first row in a crowd of twenty people; you cheer for twenty more. After, you give the band space, watching the end from the sidelines. There are tears, there are hugs, there are stories of days past and promises for those to come. In his van, Eddie falls into your arms and clings to you for twenty minutes. Then he kisses you, pulls you greedily into his lap and almost breaks his window when there’s no condom to be found.

I didn’t think all of this would be so hard.

I’m crazy about you.

It’s not fair.

I want to make you come with my fingers, please.

Three days and you take Eddie to your house. He needs to see where you live from the inside. Your mother loves him, like you knew she would. He pokes around your room, inspecting everything he can. Sadly, it’s not much; you already started packing. He gets quiet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I hate to see those boxes with your stuff.”

“You wanna sleep at your place?” you caress his cheekbones with your thumbs.

“No.”

Eddie can’t fall asleep. You find him wide awake at three in the morning, staring at boxes and crying silent tears. He hates it that you see them.

“Come on, get dressed. We’re leaving.”

“No.”

“I don’t want you to be upset.”

“Tough shit,” he huffs. “You said you’ll give me anything. Give me this. I wanna feel this.”

So neither of you sleep. The sun comes up when Eddie pushes your face into the mattress, your wrists in his hand on your back. He’s not gentle. You don’t want him to be. He’s everywhere. By noon he kisses the bruises on the back of your thighs. They are his favorite color, he says. He wants to leave the boxes now. So you leave.

Maybe you were right. Maybe you are stupid.

I don’t mean it!

I’m sorry.

I just want years of this.

Two days and you just stay in bed. Eddie reads to you. Lord of The Rings and he’s doing different voices, and sound effects; narrates the rain, the hooves of pony’s and everything in between with gentle fingertips on the back of your hand. And it makes you cry. Makes you cry so hard that Eddie’s shirt is soaked where he holds you to his shoulder.

“Anticipatory grief. I get it now,” he says into your hair. There is something he doesn’t say. You can feel it, but you don’t ask.

This time when he fucks you, Eddie is nothing but gentle. You almost can’t stand it. You never want him to stop. Keep him inside of you forever.

I’m in love with you.

No, I mean it.

I always liked you, remember?

“I’m in love with you too, Eddie.”

“Say that again.”

Eddie’s van is packed. He’s leaving in two hours.

Your lips are swollen from kissing, biting, sucking his cock and bruises into his skin.

“How can you be so perfect?” you ask him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t let me leave.”

“Eddie…”

Eddie slides from your arms, slides from his room, out the porch door and flees into the forest behind the trailer.

You look after him, stunned.

Wayne sits on the deck, smoking.

“M’ sorry, kid. Really sorry.”

You know what he means. You’re sorry too.

“If he’s not back in twenty, you go after him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. He’s my boy,” Wayne chuckles. There are tears in his voice.

You find Eddie sitting on a low branch, staring into the distance.

“You found me.”

“You’re leaving.”

“So are you.”

There are some nettles stinging your calves as you walk over, but the look on his face stings more.

It’s like the day you found him two weeks ago: you looking up at him, his eyes brimming with confusion. Except it’s nothing like two weeks ago.

“If this isn’t a pretty fucking case of self-fulfilling prophecy then I don’t know what is.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brushing hair out of his face.

“You know what I mean.”

Of course, you do. It was you who made that prophecy.

“Do you regret it? That you gave me that kiss?” you ask in fear, a tear fleeing down your cheek.

Eddie kisses it away. “Don’t be stupid.”

Ten minutes and you lean against his van. His arms are crushing you, your nails leave red trails on his back and shoulders. You want him to remember.

“M’ going to miss you,” you sob.

“Gonna miss you too, sweetheart.”

I’ll call you every day I can.

I’ll let you know when I’m in the area.

M’ gonna visit you. I promise.

Eddie kisses you. He tastes like smoke and cherry pop rocks and plain old sadness.

You made me so happy.

It’s almost cruel.

I’d do it again. In a heartbeat.

Your mouth is dry as you watch him drive away, clouds of dirt rising from the dusty tires. Wayne holds you while you sob; he’s crying too. “Stop by for coffee b’fore you leave,” he says and you promise you will as you wave him goodbye.

The sun is low and golden as you start your way home. No. To the place where your boxes are waiting. You feel uprooted.

Two days later and the phone is ringing. You trip over a bag of clothes and bump your knee on the coffee table. You don’t feel the pain.

“Eddie?”

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #Eddie Munson #eddie munson smut #somnambulic-thing #my fic

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nevernonline · 1 month

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✧.* he's all that; lsm mini series

✧.*synopsis: every year the kappa sorority hosted a 'hot or not' greek life pageant show. you've luckily escaped having to bring your own "nottie" to give a makeover to and train in hopes of winning a big prize for the rest of your crew. but, just when you thought your lucky streak was going strong your name get's chosen as a representative and your sisters had just the guy for you to make over.

part of my seventeen movie series.

paring: seokmin x reader (y/n uses she/her pronouns.)

genre/s: fluff, strangers2lvrs, neighbors2lvrs or whatever.

warning/s: alcohol mentions, swearing, cigarette mentions, swearing, some pg-13 jokes. no funny business iykyk. lots of mean girls (rip)

word count: 4.2k

note: im notorious atp for not editing, pls. this edition of nmm is inspired by a true classic she's all that (w/ a bit of greek the tv show/sydney white energy if any of u have ever seen ALSO classics, this was supposed to be one part, BUT! I feel myself getting so carried away so … three parts.) i was going to post my gwag update today but im gonna wait till either tomorrow or Tuesday <3.

beginning ▸ middle ▸ end.

Y/n was dreading the meeting she walked through the front doors of the sorority for this afternoon, the pageant. Kappa and all the other sororities on Greek row participated in what they call ‘Hot or Not’ every year since supposedly the 1980’s something her now head sister Heather claims was started by the legacy that was her mother. Which maybe was true, but y/n could never figure out why it mattered? And while it was fun it was a little bit old school.

“Hey, girls. Everyone settled in? We have a very exciting tradition here at Kappa as you may know.”

The cheers rang through the sitting room, with its white walls, pale pink carpets, and sherpa couches, the cheers and claps of girls hoping Heather draws their name from the glass bowl with her perfectly manicured finger tips.

“Yes. It’s so exciting, we have a few new faces so since you haven’t been a part of this week in past years we left you out of the bowl, but we will have many things for you to participate in this week. Like dine and dash, our famous Good as Gold party, and of course judging the competition at the end of the week. Before we get to the drawing, I wanted to congratulate our last year's winner, Suni. Give it up for her.”

Smiling, y/n clapped along with the other girls, giving Suni her flowers. About to step out behind the two french doors to grab a water or something to drink, when you hear Heather call your name loudly. All of your other sisters and friends spinning around watching her looking like she was attempting to escape the reality of her name being the one chosen after three years of getting out of it.

“y/n! Finally, Come back here, girly.”

Walking through the clapping crown y/n took her place next to the blonde and pretended to smile with excitement as her gut was telling her it was absolutely the worst day of her life.

The only reason y/n was in this sorority was to get extra college credits, that and Heather and her mother met here and have been friends since that very day. Heather was obsessed with being a legacy and clawing her way to the top of the food chain at the university. Y/n was just there for the ride.

“Everyone, you all obviously know my very good friend and our smartest sister, y/n. I personally have been waiting for the day she got chosen out of this bowl. It’s something our moms, co-vp’s of their 1980’s class of Kappas have been talking about for years. So I’m just as excited as I’m sure y/n is to be our guiding light to another victory this year. Anything to say, y/n?”

“Uh, not really, you said it all.”

Another big fake smile appeared on her face. Laughing and giggling at all the congratulations coming her way.

“Girls, before we enjoy our lunch. Don’t forget tonight is dine and dash, please find your dates and bring them to Carol’s Diner at 8pm. See you there.”

Checking the time on your phone you had roughly 45 minutes before your lecture and enough time to take off the gaudy Kappa logo’d sweater you had to put on for what Heather calls “official business.”

“Y/n what are you checking the time for? We have a lot to do today.”

“I have a class in 40 minutes, I have to go back and change.”

“I don’t get why you won't just move back in here with us?”

“I told you, Heather. I can't. I have to focus on getting into Med School and no offense to you or the other girls, but this isn’t exactly the best place for me to focus when I have to study.”

“Med School can wait just one day right? We have to set up the table at Carol’s and set up for the party later. Would you mind going with the new girl Sam to grab the alcohol? And then you can meet me back here and we will go to the diner together. I’m going to have the girls go out and look for some Nottie’s for you today before that whale from Delta picks them all up. “

“No, but-”

“Thank you! Love you!”

“Also her name is not Sam, It’s Soyeon.”

“Okay got it, toodleoo.”

Searching the house for the person and so called new girl, Sam you stumbled upon her sitting out on the back patio writing in her journal.

“Soyeon?”

“Oh, hey y/n.

“Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m just so used to everyone calling me Sam I forget people know that it’s actually not.”

“Yeah, it took Heather a whole year to not call Suni, Sunny and everyone just kind of follows her suit.”

“I thought you had class? I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I do. It’s just a lecture on the importance of mammograms and breast cancer research so, I guess it’s okay. I can just find it somewhere online.”

“Ready to head out?”

“Would you hate me if we stopped at my dorm? I cannot wear this fucking sweater for more than an hour or I may spontaneously combust.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be seen with you in public while you’re wearing that.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

“You should.”

Y/n and Soyeon escaped the general excitement of the rest of the girls by escaping out the outdoor gate and walked viciously together to change the heinous sweater on y/n’s back.

Turning the corner to finally reach the hall her single dorm room lived at the end of, she ran into a tall boy who’s books scattered all across the floor, a boy she had never once run into literally and physically.

“I'm so sorry.”

“No, no I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“You’re y/n right?”

“Yes? Why?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I live across the hall from you. I see your name tag on your door all the time and all the photos of you from all your friends. Which now that I’m talking makes me sound like even more of a weirdo? I’m sorry. I’m Seokmin, my friends call me DK or Dokyeom , whatever. And now I’m rambling, please stop me.”

“No, you’re okay. Can we at least just get off the floor now?”

“Yes.”

Seokmin or Dokyeom whatever his real name actually is, crawled off the floor and stuck his hand out to you for assistance pulling your pink colored body off the floor.

“This is my friend, Soyeon.”

“Sorority sisters?”

“Wait. How’d you know? Oh, fuck the sweater. Don’t tell anyone you saw me wearing this, I know where you live.”

“Don’t worry, I never will. But, sorry to uh, cut this meeting short I have to get to class. I’ll see you again, I’m sure. Bye, nice meeting you y/n. And you too, Soyeon.”

“Bye.”

In unison you and Soyeon watched the tall boy walk towards the elevators. Both of you have differing expressions of looks on your face, one of pure enjoyment watching the awkward interaction and one of pure dumbfoundedness.

“He’s cute.”

Soyeon brought you out of staring at the boy walking away and stepping into the elevator, throwing his fingers up waving goodbye while clutching his mounds of books in his hands.

“What?”

“I said he’s cute and he’s your neighbor. Lucky girl.”

“Oh. Yeah, I can’t believe I’ve never met him before.”

“Why don’t you ask him out?”

“We just met. Plus, I’m busy with school and now this stupid pageant. I don’t have time for cute boys.”

“I’m sure you can make it work.”

Unlocking your door and letting Soyeon in before you so you can sneak a peek at his front door in front of yours. Plain, just a few funny messages and cute stickers of tangerines and tigers pasted on his whiteboard. Maybe he already has a girlfriend? But a boy like that with that many books is probably much like you and had no time for dating.

“Wait. Y/N your room is so nice? Maybe I should move out of the house. It’s loud as fuck anyway.”

“Why are you in the sorority? I’m not judging because I was basically dragged into it too. I’m just curious?”

“My mom always wanted me to join. She said it’s a good way to find friends, I always had a hard time making them. So I figured why not?”

“Got it. Makes sense.”

“What about you? You also don’t serve sorority girl to me.”

“Because my mom also got me to join, that’s actually how I know Heather. Our moms were co-captains of the sorority at some point in the 80’s.”

“Oh, so you’ve known her your whole life?”

“Mhm.”

“No offense or anything, but she’s… kind of a bitch.”

“Kind of? It’s only gotten worse since she’s been in charge. She was okay when we were younger, but you know.”

Slipping out of your jeans and sweater, you threw on a black pair of pleated pants and a loose white button down.

“Also you have tattoos and a sick body, stop dressing like an old woman.”

“I could never pull off what you wear? You’re so cool and confident.”

“Promise me. One party this year you’ll let me pick out something to wear?”

“Okay.”

“You’re very trusting.”

“What? You’re going to make me wear a hot pink dress and try to dye my hair blonde too?”

“Hell no.”

“Exactly.”

Hours passed on as you were getting to know Soyeon more, a part of you realized what you had been missing meeting girls outside of your own circle at school.

People who share your interests and enjoy talking about things other than clothes, shoes, and boys.

It was actually the least stressed you’ve been around someone at the sorority in a long time. Almost like a breath of fresh air.

Getting out of the Uber you took filled to the brim with alcohol and snacks, you were back at the big White House at the end of the street. Not a flaw in sight. Almost like it wasn’t a real reality.

“Should we ditch the diner? We could always go see my friend play at the bar across campus instead?”

“I would love nothing more, but Heather will have my head shaved or something.”

“Okay, well when we ditch later we can head there.”

“It’s a date.”

“Ew, you’re so corny. Save it for your new lover boy across the hall.”

“Shut up.”

Soyeon and you laughed, dragging the last box up the stairs into the foyer of the house. Met with the blonde at the bottom of the stairs.

“There you guys are! I was going to send a search and rescue team to come for you if you didn’t show up soon.”

“We got a little distracted. Sorry.”

“No problem. You’re here now, Sam go up and get ready, I’ll help y/n from here.”

“Okay.”

Soyeon or Sam, picked her poison and shoved down Heather still calling her by the wrong name and walked up to her room to change and get ready for the rest of her night. While you were stuck unpacking the boxes.

“Y/n. Don’t forget to look out for the boys everyone brings tonight. We can pick one from the litter for your Nottie.”

“Look, Heather-“

“I know what you’re going to say and don’t even think about asking me if you can drop out of the pageant, okay?”

“I just don’t think it’s worth it or fair anymore, why don’t we just get the other frat guys to do it? Like Mingyu or Wonwoo, Johnny? I don’t know. I don’t want to make anyone feel uncomfortable.”

“You raise a good point. And it gives me an idea.”

“Which is?”

“We have the other frats competing too, we’ll get more payout and the three uglies will be more profitable than ever for us. You’re so smart.”

“That’s not wha-“

“Ah! I’m so lucky to have you. I’ll let everyone know.”

Heather bounced off into the other room, texting rapidly with her manicured hands on her cell phone, making the fire bigger.

With your head spinning around and around you don’t even remember walking your way to the diner waiting for the freshman girls to bring their guys along to the large table set for someone’s embarrassment.

Taking a seat near the end of the table next to Soyeon and Heather on your other side, you sat and sipped at the Diet Coke in front of you, feeling your mix of anxiety and angel swirling in your stomach and begging for something a little stronger.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Soyeon leaned over and whispered into your ear, seeing the look on your face and noticing your obvious quietness.

“I’ll tell you after.”

“Okay, if you want to go early, let me know.”

“I will”

Heather had her vulture eyes on, waiting to see which she would inevitably have embarrassed by the groups around you with no remorse.

She looked into your eyes and signaled to a cute shy boy across the table, sitting and picking at his nails, making it clear she had made her mark.

“Let me use the bathroom first okay?”

“Yeah, of course. You wouldn’t want to miss it.”

“Right.”

Walking briskly into the old blue stalls in the bathroom, which you didn't even really have to use, but just needed an excuse to go somewhere and release your anxiety.

“Y/n? Hey. Y/n?”

Seeing Soyeon’s platform heels under the bottom of the stall door you jumped up and swung your head out of the blue metal.

“What?”

“Remember that guy you met today?”

“Yes, of course why?”

“He’s here.”

“Someone brought him?”

“No. He’s here with his two friends and Heather invited them to the table. One of them is that dude that’s friends with Mingyu with the that acts like a tiger, the hot nerdy one, and the other one is just some hot short buff guy, never seen him before. Anyway, We either have to get out of here right now or stay and hide in here until they're gone.” L

“Why don’t we just go-“

“No. I don’t want him to think you’re a bitch? Are you crazy? You can’t go dunking on nerds in front of three hot dudes?”

“Okay let’s go.”

As the two of you tried to make your exit from the ladies room you heard commotion outside in the dining room, so you both slipped back quickly into the bathroom, locking the door for some reason as you head the chairs scooting and the bell ringing meaning people were slipping out on one of the boys at the table.

“You think they're gone?”

“Yeah. I hear the sink running in the men’s room, come on.”

As you walked out of the bathroom in front of you Seokmin was sitting at the table covered in a turkey club sandwich looking at the long tab Heather left for him.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Your ‘sisters’ dumped a sandwich on me and left the tab? Do you guys do this a lot?”

“It’s just some stupid shit Heather came up with when she became president. Me and y/n were hiding in the bathroom so we could come and pay the tab. But, you got to it first.”

“Right.”

Not saying anything and standing in your tracks cold, you watched as Soyeon took the check from his hands and waved you on to help him as she went up to pay.

“She dumped her food on you?”

“Yeah, my friends and I were just coming for takeout. I saw Soyeon so I went to say hi and she wanted to come get you. But the blonde girl,”

“Heather.”

“Yeah, Heather. She told me to sit down for a second and my friends went back to their dorm so they could keep studying and deliver food to some other guys. She was okay at first, but once Soyeon left she dumped her soda and sandwich on me and when I came back they were all gone.”

“I’m so sorry? Let me get you dry cleaning money or something.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I can handle it. I’m glad you two were here though, I don’t have my wallet on me. Are you okay though? Have you been crying?”

“I’m fine, just had a moment.”

The small black haired girl popped back over, tucking her card back into her wallet and smiling at the two of you sitting and talking with Seokmin covered in an orange beverage, a little bit of lettuce stuck in his hair.

“Want to come to a party?”

“If it’s at the sorority then sorry, no thanks.”

“No. It’s just some of my friends from the music department. They’re playing a show at O’Malley’s.”

“I don’t think orange soda is really a good look for a party.”

“That’s okay, y/n has to go change too. You guys just meet me there? I’m going to head out and get us a table.”

“Well I do owe you guys both a drink. So, sure.”

“Oh, and Seokmin?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure y/n actually comes back out, she’s hard to get her hands on.”

“Of course.”

Walking back to your somewhat shared dorm, you and Seokmin walked in silence past greek row, watching all the girls running around to get ready for a greeting ceremony to the frat houses as escorts to their party.

The boy looked at you up and down, imagining you inside one of those grand houses gossiping and dishing on sister life just trying to figure out why you joined in the first place, your friend included.

Reaching your destination with only smiles and small giggles shared between the two of you on the walk over, you both slid into your dorm rooms and found clothes that were far more suitable for a night out.

You noticed the black tank top Soyeon had pointed out before and slid it on, matching it with a pair of dark ripped jeans and your go-to loafers, sliding back into the hallway, finding Seokmin on the other side of the door waiting for you.

He was somehow on your wavelength wearing an oversized black t-shirt and jeans.

“I figured I should try to match Soyeon's aesthetic somehow.”

“Me too. You look nice, I like your shoes.”

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?”

“Yes. I definitely need a drink.”

“So, y/n what is your drink of choice.”

“Anything strong and not sweet.”

“Oh, so not me then.”

“Shut up.”

Seokmin made you laugh, there was no way a boy like him was not taken or at least could be interested in you.

“Have you and Soyeon been friends for long? You guys seem close.”

“Actually, not really. We hung out for the first time today. I mean, I’ve seen her at parties and stuff, but she’s sort of been like a breath of fresh air for me.”

“Really? I’m surprised by that. Why are you in the sorority anyway? You don’t exactly have the same.. Vibe? Or whatever as the other girls. Especially the ones I met today.”

“My mom. The girl. Heather. Soda spiller, her mom and mine were friends when we were kids, they're legacy members. So I just thought it would be fun, but now.. I don’t feel that way.”

“Can’t you just quit?”

“I guess.”

“Why don’t you want to?”

“I guess I just want to be someone who sees things through. I also can’t offer Heather the satisfaction of knowing I left.”

“She really is that bad huh?”

“Worse. It’s a long story. Can we table it?”

“Of course.”

Reaching the door of the bar, you caught a glimpse of Soyeon’s shoulder tattoo near the stage, through the large crowd of people mingling.

“Go. I’ll order us drinks and meet you there?”

“You sure?”

“You said you needed it right?”

“What about your wallet?”

“Apple pay, y/n. Duh.”

“Your ID?”

“My friend is the bartender, just go.”

“So sassy.”

Walking your way through the crowd by pushing yourself through other bodies you finally reach the girl on the other side and wrap your arm around her waist as a hello.

“What the- Oh my god, you actually came? You look so hot. I’m proud.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine. Where’s the puppy?”

“At the bar grabbing drinks.”

“On the leash already? You’re good.”

“No. He’s just nice.”

“True. But, he also likes you.”

“I don’t think it’s like that, but maybe someday you’ll tell me I told you so.”

“I look forward to it. I saved you guys a table.”

“My girl.”

Soyeon gestured her long manicured fingers behind you, noticing the boy making his way with two glasses in his hands and another tall figure following behind him holding a tray with various things on top.

“Hi, Soyeon.”

“Hi, Keom. Thank you for joining us. Who’s the glasses?”

“My friend Wonwoo, he works here, well he just got off. Is it cool if he joins us?”

“Of course.”

“Nice to meet you, Wonwoo. I’m y/n.”

“Hey.”

“So. Since I didn’t get to ask Soyeon what she wanted and I wasn’t entirely sure what you liked. We brought over options. But, we have to finish them all because Wonwoo was nice enough to gift them to us and it’s unfair to not accept gifts.”

“Very charming.”

You made your second flirty comment of the night to Seokmin, even though your sober self normally isn’t entirely as bold as you find yourself being with him now. But, in all fairness you were just trying to catch his vibe. He didn’t respond verbally, but just scrunched his nose in your direction almost as if he was letting you know that he’s interested.

“First, a simple vodka soda, little lemon, then just a couple of beer options, this is a sour, this is just a simple light beer, and an ipa, which ew, but I think Wonwoo likes, some tequila shots and some lemon drop shots, also a whiskey soda and a jack and coke, and then a uh, gin and tonic i think? Right, Woo?”

“Yeah, maybe you should be the bartender, Seokmin.”

“I have other talents.”

All eight of your hands reach every which way around the table and end up with different drinks sat in front of them, you beelined for the vodka and the sour beer, Soyeon went for the whiskey soda and the tequila, Seokmin for the gin and tonic and light beer, and Wonwoo for the jack and coke and the ipa.

“Who wants what shot?”

Soyeon dipped her arm back to the middle of the table covering her eyes with her opposite hand, grabbing a hold of the small glasses very carefully and placing them around the small group.

“There. Decided for you, me and Wonwoo get tequila and you and Seokmin get lemon.”

Smiling widely at your friend next to you, you grabbed a hold of the shot glass and held it up signaling everyone to cheers. Which they all happily obliged.

Soon after the alcohol was going through your bloodstream the band started playing their music that hit you right in the chest, songs about living your life to the fullest and choosing your own path, much to your surprise Soyeon was the one who wrote the music that spoke to your soul.

After the set ended, Wonwoo and Soyeon wanted to stay back and have a few more drinks to congratulate their friends, and enjoy their night, but you were beat thinking about all the work you still had to do over the weekend and dreading the choice of man Heather would embarrass. So you decided to leave with Seokmin walking you back safely to your dorm.

“What are you studying again?”

“Me? Oh, I’m studying to be a veterinarian.”

“Wow really? That’s cool, I didn’t know. You must be busy as hell.”

“I’m sure you’re just as busy, being a doctor for actual humans is way more complicated considering a lot of them are assholes.”

“That’s unfortunately true. But, I love it to be honest. I can understand why people are afraid of the hospital and surgery I guess.”

“That’s good, maybe we should study together sometime? I know it’s not the same exact thing or whatever, but it’s nice to have company?”

“I would love that, tomorrow? I mean if you’re free. We can go to the coffee shop or library or anything really?”

“Yeah, just knock around 10?”

“Okay. Cool. I’ll see you tomorrow??”

“Yes, absolutely. Have a good night, y/n”

“You too, Seok.”

Trying to get comfortable in your bed, some pesky person kept lighting up your phone screen, reaching over to turn on do not disturb you and realized it was Heather. She was asking a bunch of interrogating questions about your new friend Seokmin, begging you to bring him over tomorrow.

Unfortunately for you, you knew her interest in him was about to make your new relationship a very complicated one.

106 notes · View notes

oddree13 · 3 months

Text

To Find a Kiss of Yours

[Read on AO3]

Steve remembers his first Valentine's Day. He was in first grade and spent the day prior decorating a shoebox to act as a makeshift mailbox. The next day the class had a party where all the cards were passed out, but throughout the gathering, girls came up to give him extra candy. One girl even kissed him on the cheek and ran off.

Steve felt butterflies in his stomach for the first time that day and decided Valentine’s wasn’t all that bad.

As the years went on, Steve looked forward to the holiday for reasons beyond extra candy. February 14 was used to fill the void of affection his parents were slowly taking from him.

And once Steve started middle school, and class-wide valentines were no longer mandatory, he realized the holiday was different for him than other boys. He’d get more cards and candy than some of his friends, and in seventh grade, a girl pulled Steve aside to let him know how much she liked him. Steve only knew the girl because they shared a couple of classes, but figured he should be polite and ask her out. After all, that is what all the boys around him would do.

Years later Robin would unpack just how wrong this was to do.

In short, Steve always looked forward to Valentine's Day and even kept a box under his bed where he kept his favorites - the standouts among the mass-printed, store-bought postcards that were delivered to Steve with a personal touch.

When he started Hawkins High a part of him was nervous that one of his steady sources of affection would dry up, but Steve found the exact opposite. The school encouraged the holiday by allowing students to send each other candy-grams and flowers throughout the day. Even among the students, there was a buzz. In the days leading up to V-day, photocopied maps of lockers would be passed around where people could write their friend’s name on it, in the hopes that it would encourage more personal gifts and confessions.

In his four years at Hawkins High Steve’s name always made it on the map before he could write it.

During his freshman year, Steve gets more than a few candy-grams in homeroom, prompting Tommy and Carol to tease him as they steal his candy.

In between classes, he takes more trips than usual to his locker to collect the cards and notes left for him. Some are signed, some are just a phone number with a name and a lipstick print. Steve can’t help but get high off the constant reminders of want as the day goes on.

Needing to kill time before the bus towards Loch Nora arrives, Steve heads to his locker after basketball practice. Sure it could have waited until morning, but Steve’s never been a patient man.

Inside his locker are a few more notes, but among the pink and pastels that have filled his vision all day, the crimson card stands out. He opens the front flap to find the card is actually an origami note, and not wanting to rip it, carefully unfolds the missive.

His eyes are immediately pulled to the drawing at the bottom: a half-sun and half-moon face on a backdrop of stars. His eyes then wander up to the note to find not a letter, but a short poem -

Some people say my love cannot be true Please believe me, my love, and I'll show you I will give you those things you thought unreal The sun, the moon, the stars all bear my seal

It takes Steve a few times to read it to get the gist of the meaning, and he can’t help but blush. Either the writer is talented or she copied someone. Either way, Steve knows this is making it into his special box. Before folding it back Steve’s eyes searched the page for a name or phone number, only to find a small “E” at the corner of the note.

Steve spends the rest of the week wracking his brain for all the girls in his class and even the year above whose name starts with an E, even going so far as to approach a few of them.

When he gets no answer other than a few dates he puts it out of his mind.

Sophomore year is almost an identical repeat of the year before. Candygrams were delivered and stolen by Tommy and Carol. Notes stuffed in his locker, getting more lascivious as the day goes on. It seems his reputation preceded him, and there are more than a few propositions in letter form.

And just like the year before there is a crimson note waiting for him after practice. Steve wasn’t even anticipating the note, figuring it was a one-off from the year prior. But seeing it sitting on top of his books, Steve can’t help but ignore all the other letters and notes in favor of opening another message from E.

Like last time there’s a drawing, this time of a detailed headstone citing a kiss as the cause of death, the skull atop bearing a lip print. And just like the year before is a poem -

To find a kiss of yours what would I give A kiss that strayed from your lips dead to love

Steve restarts his attempts to find E, only this time he goes for a more subtle approach, flirting with instead of confronting any girl whose name starts with the offending letter.

It doesn’t end with Steve solving the mystery but does end with Steve going on dates with Elizabeth, Evelyn, Emily, and Erin.

The Valentines of his junior year is an interesting one. Sure he’s been dating Nancy for almost three months now, but that doesn’t stop some very ambitious girls from sending candy and cards his way. He details each gift to Nancy as the day goes on because that's what a good boyfriend would do, right? And sure, he wishes Nancy would look more perturbed, but all he gets is small kisses on his cheek with her saying they can use the candy as dessert when she makes him dinner this weekend.

The only thing Steve keeps to himself though is his hope for a third crimson note.

Sure Steve hasn’t gotten any luck with finding out who the sender is. And even if he did find out this year he couldn’t act on it. But there's something about the effort that Steve craves. That someone cares enough about Steve to write, draw, and fold the letter each year.

And just like the years prior the note is there, drawing and all.

Looking up at the stars, I know quite well That, for all they care, I can go to hell, But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man or beast. How should we like it were stars to burn With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection cannot be, Let the more loving one be me. Admirer as I think I am Of stars that do not give a damn, I cannot, now I see them, say I missed one terribly all day. Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky And feel its total dark sublime, Though this might take me a little time.

Not only is this year's poem longer, but the drawing also intrigues Steve. The picture is of a winged man, gazing up at the words written above him with an almost longing expression, while flames dance at his feet. Steve can’t help but examine the detail that went into the drawing, and even blushes at how handsome he is.

So the next day when Nancy drags him to the library to study, he sneaks away to ask the librarian if she recognizes the poem (without showing her the note). She walks him over to the poetry section and hands him a collection of British poetry, turning to the section on W.H. Auden.

Steve reads a brief description of the poem, about the unrequited love between the poet and the stars. He bitterly thinks that this love might not be unrequited if he could figure out who his secret admirer was.

Years later Steve would realize two things - Indiana public school books didn't care to mention that W.H. Auden was gay and that he really should have looked at the checkout card inside the book cover.

Steve contemplates staying home for the last Valentine's Day of his high school career. He's certain he won't get any grams now that he’s fallen from grace and taken no steps to climb back up.

But despite how obnoxious sharing court with Hargrove is, basketball practice is the only thing keeping him sane as he counts down the days till graduation.

Steve didn't even mean to go back to his locker that day not wanting to be disappointed by the lack of a crimson note. But he needs his notes to study for chemistry, and as he pulls out the binder the crimson letter falls to the floor.

Steve can't help the way his heart clenches at the sight. How such a simple thing can remind him why he loves his holiday so much?

He then figures that the sender. Must be someone in his grade if they've kept these notes coming all four years.

Passing stranger! You do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,) I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you, All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured, You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me , I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return, I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.

Steve sinks onto the floor as he reads the poem over and over again. He can't help but smirk at how the bits about girls are stricken through, but also that it's a farewell of sorts. It leaves Steve with a bittersweet feeling to know he'll never find out the sender's identity.

Over piles of discount candy in 1986, Steve shares with Robin the details of the crimson notes tucked under his bed. Robin can't help but laugh as she looks through them pointing out to Steve how fucking homo erotic all the poems are.

After a bit of denial, Steve finally admits that Robin may be right and kicks himself for only searching for girls back when he was in high school. Realizing he didn't bother to get a copy of the yearbook he asks Robin if he can come one day to search the pages at her house for clues. But a few weeks later literal hell breaks loose and he forgets all about it

Part of Steve wishes he actually bothered to get a copy of the yearbook so he could search the pages, but a few weeks later literal hell breaks loose and he forgets all about it

It's February 1987 and Steve is wondering how he's spending Valentine's Day Eve cleaning up his kitchen after the party wraps their D&D session for the night.

Eddie is helping him tidy as he recounts how on the ride over to Steve's, Dustin was explaining how nervous he was about his radio date with Suzie the next day wanting to do something special but not cheesy.

“I told him he should recite some poetry and he told me that's lame,” Eddie says in a way that expresses their mutual frustration with Henderson.

“It's not lame. If it's done right,” Steve agrees.

“The little shit then told me that metal lyrics don't count as poetry and I told him that I know more than just metal lyrics.”

Steve can't help but look amused and gestures for Eddie to regale him with a poem.

Eddie clears his throat and begins, “To find a kiss of yours what I would give…”

“A kiss that strayed from your lips...dead to love,” Steve finishes unthinking. After all, he read those words hundreds of times.

That's when it clicks for Steve. The E written in the corner of all those notes stood for Eddie.

Eddie's eyes catch Steve's and he visibly swallows. His complexion pails and he looks like he's about to run for it, but Steve sputters out his confession.

“I kept them all.”

Eddie's eyes widened even further at that as if he couldn't believe what Steve was saying.

“You did?”

“Yeah. Want to see them? They're in my room.”

“That's quite a line, Harrington”

“Well not all of us can be poets.”

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #myfics #valentines day #secret admirer #stranger things fic #steddie fic

63 notes · View notes

f4irys4n · 11 months

Text

don’t ignore me.

choi yeonjun x neutral! reader

tags gender neutral language. academic rivals (they don't hate each other, they're just competitive). reader and yeonjun tease each other. reader likes yeonjun. yeonjun is in denial but also likes reader. artsy! yeonjun. oblivious yeonjun. suggestive dreams. upset reader. crying. subtle confrontation. light angst. kissing. subtle groping.

wc 2.2k

muffled conversations spread through the hallways as you walk through them, history books in your hand, making your way to class. your cheeks heated slightly, remembering this was the lesson that you sat next to yeonjun. as little as you like to admit it, you do have a little crush on yeonjun, but you would never tell anyone that; to anyone else, he's purely you're academic rival.

you felt someone push into your back. "hey loser!" a familiar voice spoke from behind you, one of his arm wrapping around your shoulder. speak of the devil.

"hey yeonjun," you draw out, looking up at the taller figure, trying your best not to smile from seeing him. "oh how excited i am to sit next to this really annoying boy in my next class?" you tease.

"oh, me too. it's going to be amazing sitting next to this whiny person in the very class I'm heading to now," yeonjun hums, grinning down at you.

"whiny?" you ask, arching up your eyebrow.

"oh yeah... super whiny, they go on and on about how boring the class is and how they'd love to be doing something else," yeonjun furthers, rolling his eyes a little.

"you're an ass," you chuckle to him, punching his arm lightly.

"oh.. so if i'm an ass, what are you, darling?" yeonjun smirks slightly.

"the closest thing to perfect you'll ever meet," you smirk back, before stepping through the doorway of your history class.

"cocky much," yeonjun teases gently.

"learnt from the best," you reply you grin back at him.

"yeonjun, y/n, stop flirting and pay attention please," the teacher snaps, causing the class to giggle at her comment making both of your cheeks flush a light shade of red.

"flirting? they wish," yeonjun chuckles out loud.

"you wish, more like," you snigger, side-eyeing him before paying attention to the notes on the class board.

yeonjun's mind wandered, starting to doodle on the page of his textbook that he'd barely written on throughout the entirety of the lesson. before he even had time to notice, he had scribbled a detailed picture of you on the corner of his paper. his eyes widened and he quickly ripped it out, scrunching it up in a ball before you had time to see it.

"what was that?" you ask, trying to spy on what he'd been drawing.

"nothing.. just some stupid doodles," he mutters, pushing the piece of paper into his bag.

"you probably were drawing some boobs or something childish like that," you chuckle playfully.

"i'm not a 12-year-old boy," yeonjun scoffed jokingly, rolling his eyes at your comment.

"are you sure about that?" you hum, sniggering to yourself before making note of what was being said about whatever historical event was being discussed at the moment.

that same night, yeonjun opens his scrapbook to flick through the pages of all his drawings before his eyes land on a blank page. he had a strange feeling in his heart but he really couldn't place what it was, so the only thing he knew to do was to draw his feelings so he could understand them.

his pencil touched his paper, and his imagination took way; the grey spreading across the slightly off-shade white paper to create the imagery yeonjun was picturing in his mind.

after a few moments, he groaned, realising what he'd drawn. you.

why were you so stuck in his head? why was his thoughts so fixated on you? he was truly struggling to understand why you were so prominent in his mind, and this only frustrated him further; it frustrated him that he couldn't understand what these feelings even were.

he slams the book closed, chucking it onto the desk beside his bed before falling onto his bed. he huffed a little, running his hand through his hair, trying to solve the puzzles within his mind.

eventually, the boy fell asleep, slipping into his dream world.

and again, he saw you. you were both in his room, and after seconds of paused staring, he watched himself launch himself at you. cupping your face and pulling your lips towards his, passionately moving them against each other as your arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace. yeonjun's hands wandered further down as the kiss heated up, his palms settling on the curve of your ass.

and with that, yeonjun woke up, his breath heavy and forehead dotted with sweat. what the fuck was that? why would he ever dream of that?

he felt his heart quicken and stomach tingle slightly. he'd never seen you in such a way, you were just his friend who rivalled him for the title of 'best in the class' not someone he viewed as a romantic interest. this feeling towards you was completely new, and it confused him greatly.

you hadn't seen yeonjun all day and it honestly upset you. usually, he was the first person you spoke to in the morning, besides your roomie. but today was different, the boy was nowhere to be seen and it through you off.

you looked at your timetable and smiled; history; the very lesson yeonjun always sat next to you in. you hurried to class, moving your legs fast, eager to see him.

as you walked into the class you frowned. yeonjun was already there, seated and ready for the lesson to start, but he wasn't sat in his usual place. he had willingly chosen to sit next to eunha, his ex, the girl he often bitches about saying he could never trust her again and that he firmly believes she only used him for his popularity.

it stung. like a knife to the heart.

why would he choose to sit away from you? you had sat next to each other for years now, what had suddenly changed?

your mind went frantic. had you done something? you retraced all your interactions from the days prior, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, he was completely fine with you when you had said goodnight to each other. what could have possibly changed in the space of 12-ish hours?

your gaze was locked on him for a few seconds, and he hadn't even bothered to look up at you. but little did you know, he knew you were there, and once you turned away his gaze was burning into you just as yours was with him.

all lesson your focus was gone, nothing the teacher said was going through, it was all mindless chatter to you now. you quickly stood up, gathering your things quickly.

"i'm sorry, miss, i've got to go," you say frantically before exiting the room, ignoring her calling your name and asking what's wrong.

after a few moments, yeonjun jumped up and followed you, unsure over what was wrong; not realising his absence hurt you this much. but by the time he'd left the room, he couldn't see you, you'd gone.

"mr. choi, will you please sit down," the teacher scolds, prompting him with her finger.

today had just felt like a little too much.

you were staring at yeonjun's contact name and the texts between you both, wondering whether you should bite the bullet and message him, or leave him be; he made it obvious that he didn't want to speak to you in your eyes.

suddenly you jumped off your bed, determined to figure out why yeonjun was blanking you. you were sure you hadn't done anything wrong, but if you had, it'd also give you the opportunity to apologise and hopefully sort things out.

yeonjun sat on his bed, scrolling through his phone aimlessly, his eye landing on a picture you'd posted on Instagram a few days prior. he found himself smiling at the sight of you before clicking on your profile to fill his worried mind with happy thoughts for just a moment.

that was until he was interrupted by a knock on the door, causing him to quickly lock his phone and throw it to the side of him.

it was almost 11pm, who could this be?

he steps barefoot on the cold laminate floor, slowly making his way to the door to open it. he gasped quietly as he saw your face staring up at him, all teary-eyed and lacking the normal look of hope in your eyes.

"y/n?" he asks quietly "how did you get past the hall guard? come in, you'll get us caught," he continued, ushering you into his room quickly.

"really? that's all you have to say to me after ignoring me for an entire," you hum "why haven't you talked to me all day? and why did you deliberately choose to sit next to eunha today in history?" you say causing yeonjun to frown slightly, he didn't think his actions would have upset you this much.

"oh.. i didn't think it would have been this serious," yeonjun replies, pretending to not be bothered and pushing the situation to the side.

"not that serious?" you chuckle "we've been friends and playful rivals since we both started school, and now you just randomly ignore me. not to mention sit next to your ex-girlfriend in the lesson we always sit next to each other in, it's like out thing; to be the funny duo in that class."

"can i not sit next to whoever i want now? maybe i wanted a change," yeonjun scoffed a little, running his hands through his hair.

"that's not what i said, yeonjun. and you know it's not."

"then why are you acting like we're together and that-" and that's when he stopped himself, seeing your eyes well up. he'd spent the entire day ignoring you, too scared about the newly developed feelings he had for you, thinking that they'd eventually go away if he stayed clear of you for a short while. but seeing you in so much pain from just not talking to you for a day honestly hurt him, did he really mean this much to you?

"look.. i'm sorry for ignoring you," yeonjun sighs, eyes focused on the small tear that made its way down your reddened cheek. "i just didn't think sitting next to eunha would be that much of a problem."

"did you.. after everything that happened between you two? after me having to watch it tear you apart and taking care of you for weeks after the breakup, did you really think it wouldn't at least annoy me a little bit?"

"i never asked you to look after me," yeonjun mumbled back.

"but i did.. i did it because i like you and i couldn't bare to see you that upset! i always tried my goddamn best to cheer you up, to take your mind off things until you eventually got over her because it really upset me to see you this down about your entire life. and after so long, i really thought you might have at least picked up on my feelings or have even felt the same way, possibly. so forgive me if seeing that today threw me off a little. i've always tried to be a good friend and i've wanted you to notice me for so long-"

you take a deep breath, realising you had said way too much, a lot more than you expected to. you never meant for him to know about your feelings and you were mentally cursing yourself for not knowing when to shut your mouth.

yeonjun stares at you for a few moments. silence falls between the both of you. "i- i think im just gonna go.. i'll see myself out," you mumble, trying to step away from the situation until yeonjun moved in front of you and cups your face.

it took you a while to register his soft lips pressing against yours, his thumb gently brushing back and forth over your damp cheek.

"i like you too.." yeonjun whispers against your lips, before pressing them against his once again, his hands travelling down to cup your ass softly. "i like you so much."

he pulls away slowly, beginning to realise that this was almost identical do his dream that had caused him to ignore you in the first place. this caused him to chuckle slightly, confusing you.

"i dreamt about something like this last night.. well kinda," he hums "that's why i ignored you because liking you more than a friend felt so unfamiliar and it panicked me.. i thought it'd go away if i ignored you, but it obviously brought us closer than we were before," he giggles a little, holding the small of your back.

"you ignored me.. because of a dream?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"well yeah..." yeonjun trailed off.

"did you ever just consider telling me how you felt instead of trying to ignore the feelings?" you ask, chuckling at him. "damn.. you really do have attachment issues," you joke teasingly.

"i mean.. what can i say? they're one of my most enduring qualities."

#yeonjun #txt #yeonjun txt #choi yeonjun #yeonjun imagine #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #txt imagine #txt fluff #txt angst

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zibiscusloon · 5 months

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Goofy kids who just wanna build a fort (would’ve preferred the outside to do so, but hey, if they must they’ll build it in the Pizzeria)

Susana “Susie” Franz / Chica the Chicken

-April 1, 1978-June 26, 1987 (9 years old), she/her, Mexican-American

-Born to a well off middle class family, Susie is the oldest of 3 children and her family’s pride and joy. She was a naturally creative child and often thought of as weird by her classmates due to her eccentric behavior.

-Very protective of her boys! (Gabe, Jeremy, & Fritz), she and Fritz are both rather bitey children and who have been sent to the principle’s office a great many times.

-Her dog’s name is Pepperoni! He had been a huge comfort for her growing up (he passed away a few days before her own death)

-Very skilled at arcade games, she tends to rub salt into the wounds of the other children who dare to try and overthrow her (to their own expense)

Jeremiah “Jeremy” Reynolds / Bonnie the Bunny

-December 12, 1978-June 26, 1987 (8 years old), he/him, Taiwanese-American

-Grew up in a small apartment with a single mom, Jeremy is a sweet natured boy who preferred to stay within his own bubble and tend to his own interests.

-He’s mute and communicates with sign language! He’s taught a little bit to his friends (although he also uses writing and drawings to help them out where they don’t understand)

-Faced frequent ableism at school from students and teachers alike, he in turn did exactly as his mama taught him, use rude gestures.

-A huge mama’s boy! It’s always been them against the world, with his mom doing everything to give him the comfort she never had growing up. They bond over silly lil things, like the ant farm they’ve set up! (Jeremy’s tried to name every single ant)

Fritz Crowe / Foxy the Pirate Fox

-November 11, 1978-June 26, 1987 (8 years old), he/him, American

-Grew up on a block with his parents and older sister, he’s the Hurricane resident menace. Adults often label him as a “problem child”, he’s very fidgety and cannot stay still.

-Has a tendency to get into fights, as such he’s always bruised up and covered in bandaids. This also results in plenty of his clothes being ripped up and dirty, his mom frequently gets onto him for ruining all his nice clothes (he could care less)

-He’s Fritz Smith’s kid! He’s named after his parent. (Fritz actually took their job at Freddy’s to search for their son’s body and damage the Pizzeria’s property as retribution..)

-Had a cute lil crush on Susie while the gang was growing up, his form of affection though is usually shown through teasing, as such, him and Susie behave like a bickering old couple when around each other.

Gabriel Feitt / Freddy Fazbear

-June 26, 1978-June 26, 1987 (9 years old), he/him, American

-Grew up with his dad and older sibling in a less than favorable economic situation. Gabriel is a very empathetic, although anxious young boy. He grew up rather sheltered due to Cassidy’s determination to keep him safe, and he often struggles to connect to other children his age.

-The missing children’s incident happened on his birthday, he deals with a lot of internalized guilt, blaming himself for the deaths of his friends.

-Struggled to have a good relationship with his dad (who for years had been battling his own depression), and being a child, often couldn’t fully understand why his dad wasn’t always present for him and Cassidy.

-Always carrying around a Freddy plush that Cassidy had sewed up for him. It’s his comfort for when Cassidy isn’t around.

Cassidy Feitt / Fredbear

-February 2, 1974-June 26, 1987 (13 years old), nonbinary, they/them, American

-Gabriel’s older sibling and parental figure, Cassidy had to grow up fast following their mother’s passing and their father’s downward spiral. They’re an old soul who wants to keep their brother’s life in order (they often tend to forget that they themselves are still a kid)

-A rather spiteful and unforgiving kid, they prefer to keep to a small circle and not let many people get to close.

-Very protective of the other children (Gabe specifically), they’re everyone’s protector and the first one they go to when they need to be comforted.

-Had one friend growing up, her name was Seraphina Crowe (she was Fritz’s older sister), the Feitt’s and Crowe’s had been neighbors for years so their friendship just naturally blossomed.

Charlotte “Charlie” Emily / The Marionette

-May 13, 1972-May 13, 1983 (11 years old), nonbinary, they/them, American

-A natural born strange kid who loves to tell weird shit just to confuse others. In spite of their behavior they have a rather large circle of friends.

-They’d frequently gather scraps from their dad’s projects to try and come up with their own homemade animatronics (they never really made anything great but hey they had fun)

-Them and Cassidy are both highly protective of the kids, the two of them are highly aggressive to the staff who come around the other children due to their mistrust of adults.

-Always had headphones in when they were alive, they’re easily comforted by music.

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crushedsweets · 1 month

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ANSWERING A TON OF ASKS AGAIN

(30 asks..)

the reason i added it to my AU was a nod towards Ann being popularly (?) shipped with Tim way back in the day! her reasoning is prob just some 'i like my men with muscles and beards' or something LMFAOOOOOOO

yes!

I APPRECIATE YOU!! youre so sweet and im glad it helps !

only english!

in my au, i could possibly see her in a long denim skirt... and there was that one alpite drawing of her in the miniskirt... looked really cute LOL

please release me from my prison.

WHAT ARE U REFERENCING

let the man dance. . . must he stand perfectly still. . . ?

i think her smile is sooo perfect. shes perfect.

LOL AS USUAL, toby clocky nina EJ and kate. my fave is between toby and nina

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LEAVING SUCH A SWEET MESSAGE!!! it makes me so happy when you guys enjoy the stuff im putting out, especially since im enjoying creating it! i have a lot more free time now since two of my accelerated classes ended, so im just always thinking about.. them... LOL ty again also ur english is perfect!

i didnt care for it just cuz i loved the OG so much, but i totally understand why the creator did it - being berated and bullied and harassed for years at such a young age over a fun little character you made . . . i would want to "fix it" as well. but i think ninas original concept was scary in its own right! i think copy cat killers and true crime fanatics are haunting and OG nina reflected that!!!

HE'S GOT LAZARI thats his ..half daughter half sister figure. LOL. maybe dina too ive been thinking abt that a lot... omfg and lulu...

?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?? CHAT.

leave her ALOOOONNNEEEE SHES PERFECT THE WAY SHE ISSSS!!!!!!!!!!

i have! i read a bit about it and whatnot in 2023, but i didnt get fully into it! im too stuck in my own world ... RIP

ive drawn him once before! i really didnt like it . LOLLLLLLL i deleted it like a couple days after posting ... ill think about doing it again!

ive been meaning to draw her with them all up her right arm+both hands+back and peaking up her neck, but i keep forgetting!!!! i only seem to remember with jane , but thats cuz its like ... very fundamental to her design LOL

yea but it wasnt my thing... very cool concept, but the humor and pacing wasnt my taste!

i have actually!! way back in like 2020, one of my friends made me HAHA but i kept falling asleep during it . . .

yes.

CRISPY IS CRAZY LOL but yeah. i love her too. LOL

release him...

true.

HAHA YEAH I CHANGED IT A WHILE BACK..and now im debating changing it again... omg

thank you anon!! youre a sweetheart

ghglugghh...

#asks #thank you everyone who left me an ask!!! this was also a good refresher for old asks i want to create art for LOL #chatterbox

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sunsetsands · 22 days

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Almud Masterpost

Seemed like a good idea to create a place to compile information about the main planet project I have going.

Most of the pictures here are hand-drawn. I have slowly been improving at digital art, so I do intend on gradually replacing them with procreate recreations, but until then, have these messy pencil illustrations.

The planet’s name is Almud (pronounced “awl-MOO-duh” (yes, the D at the end is its own syllable)). It is the second planet from its star, an orange dwarf. Conditionswise, Almud is very similar to Earth, just a lot warmer and wetter, and without a single large moon. Instead, it has a somewhat recently-formed system of rings. These rings are made of the debris from the planet’s former moon, which floated in past the Roche limit a few dozen million years ago and got torn apart. Almud may or may not also have a smaller moon or two somewhere further out. I haven’t decided on that yet.

This is a map of Almud’s entire geography, which is slightly outdated. I’ll probably make an updated version at some point eventually possibly maybe. If you’re curious, those numbers on the continents were so I could keep track of continental drift to make sure everything made sense. I care way too much about tiny details.

This is a rough (and I mean very rough. Not proud of my craftsmanship on the outlines here) approximation of what Almud’s surface looks like. The foliage uses a teal pigment to photosynthesize, and the sky appears pink during the day. Obviously, not all of the planet is wetlands, but there are definitely more wetlands than there are on Earth thanks to the much higher humidity.

I have spent a lot of time trying to figure out what Almud’s animal-equivalent life should be like. After several failed attempts, however, I think I have gotten it to a point I am satisfied with. Below is a phylogenetic tree of all of the “animal” phyla present on Almud, and an overview of what each phylum has going on. I tried not to rip off Earth's phylogeny too much, but there are some notable parallels.

Vaxistoma (roughly "vaccine mouth"): Small fishlike creatures that feed through a proboscis with an extendible needle-tooth-thing inside of it. The rest of their body is covered in thick, hard scales. They mainly inhabit deeper waters where aquatic duossei are less common.

Duosseus ("two skeletons"): The closest equivalent to vertebrates. First members were fishlike, with calcified plates covering the outside of their bodies and rod-shaped bones supporting the inside. The outer skeleton atrophied mostly in the terrestrial members, but most classes do still have notable remnants, as shown in the small drawing above.

Limosus ("muddy, slimy things"): Soft, squishy creatures without much in terms of an internal skeleton, but most groups do have some external armor like their relatives listed above. Can be accurately summarized as "molluscs, but more alieny", though a few members are more like worms or sea stars.

Jocomodivirae (very roughly "funny little guys"): Small velvet worm-esque invertebrates with a thick, leathery pad over their back. A very diverse phylum with many, many members. Definitely not just insects with no exoskeletons.

Planagelattae ("flat jellies"): What if flatworms had three eyes?

Xenigmalus ("strange, mysterious things"): I can't think of a good way of describing these, which is pretty fitting for what they are. Body plans vary wildly here, but are almost always some combination of fins, tentacles, and a big translucent sack. Like the vaxistomans, they usually inhabit deeper waters.

Cornivermia ("horned worms"): Pretty self-explanatory. The flat, hard bits at the fronts of their heads help them dig through softer areas of soil. Some groups use these growths instead as something more akin to pincers, fins, hooks, or shells.

Carniherbae ("meat plants"): You know those animal-fern things from the Ediacaran era? These are just those, but not extinct.

Vivitria ("living glass"): Soft, feathery insides protected by a crystalline silicate shell. Many species in this phylum are colonial, which tend to look like colorful, floating geodes. These colonies often have surprisingly complex sensory capabilities, and some have been found to be about as intelligent as Earth cats.

Xylovitria ("wood glass"): Terrestrial relatives of the vivitrians, almost all of which are colonial. The defining feature of this phylum, besides their terrestriality, is their symbiotic relationship with a wide range of plant-equivalent species. The xylovitrian colony forms a protective, glassy wall around the plants' branches, as well as a system of feathery roots beneath the soil which serve to both gather nutrients for their plant partner and exchange gametes with other colonies to create new, empty xylovitrians for the plants' seeds to land in. In return, the plant gives the colony some of the byproducts of its photosynthesis.

Chiforma ("X-shaped"): Four-sided radially symmetrical creatures. Contains such captivatingly creative groups such as "squids, but four", "clams, but four", "eels, but four", and, most creataculiciously of all, "coral, but four". A shining example of the innovation that specbio nerds are capable of.

Nodovellis ("tangled hair"): Formless, sessile filter feeders. Basically a slime mold trying really hard to be a sponge, but the closest it could get was becoming a loofah.

(Feel free to give critiques or advice on the scientific names I made. All I really did here was mess around with google translate. I know there are guidelines and policies for what is and isn't an acceptable phylum title, but I've never been able to understand what any of them mean. If anything immediately makes you go "That's not how that works!", let me know)

For some additional information, I imagine that life on Almud began in freshwater rather than saltwater. This made the transition to land pretty easy for most of the animals, since they could afford to just flop around in muddy wetlands without any risk of drying out. This does mean that their skin is very, very sensitive to salt, however.

There is one sapient species on Almud: These slug things. Their actual species name is Akada, if that's important. Akada are descended from a social burrowing species that learned how to cultivate the many plants and molds that thrived in the dark, wet conditions of their tunnels. They are herbivorous, have a herd animal-like social structure, and currently have a level of technological advancement similar to ours. For more miscellaneous and mostly jokey info on them, please look here.

I will expand on all of this when/if I find the time and motivation.

#art #pencil on paper #alien #slug #akada #almud #spec bio #speculative biology #spec evo #speculative evolution #xenobiology #creature design #drawing #sci fi #guess who just learned that the name I gave to this planet is also the name of an antiquated unit of measurement #good to know it's not #like #an obscure slur or something #my art

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imagine-you · 2 years

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Living As Foes (1/11) [Eddie Munson/Reader]

Summary: It only takes you one week to realize Eddie Munson hates you. It only takes you one year to fall in love with him. Go figure.

Word Count: 1.8k

Author's Note: Based on a prompt I received: "ok random idea because eddie seems like a bug flirt but when he has a legit crush hes hopeless so reader is so confused because eddie flirts with everyone except her"

Really nervous about this, so if you've enjoyed this, please let me know! Also, huge shout out to @joz-stankovich for helping me iron out some details. You're the best. 💖

Read on AO3

March 1985 (pt. 1):

"Alright, class," started Mr. Greer, commanding the attention of the class. "I know you're all seniors and you're all eager to graduate, but you're not quite there yet."

You somehow knew that whatever Mr. Greer said next was going to suck.

"So, that being said, I'm going to assign a project."

There was a collective groan from the students in the room.

"I know, I know," Mr. Greer said, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "How about this, alright? I'll assign partners. That way you can share the work with someone else. Sound good?"

"I've got a suggestion for you," Eddie Munson spoke up from the back of the room.

You could tell that Mr. Greer was already annoyed by whatever Eddie was going to say before Eddie even continued.

"What do you say we just skip this little project and you give us all an A? How about that?"

"How about no?" Mr. Greer shot back, his tone distinctly unimpressed with Eddie's antics. "If you want to graduate this year, Mr. Munson, then you'll put all your focus into this project."

Eddie made a noise of disinterest. You glanced over your shoulder to see him leaning back in his seat, quirking an eyebrow at Mr. Greer. "I just don't know, y'know? I mean, this might not be my year. Not if Ms. O'D has anything to say about it."

"She's probably failing you because you call her Ms. O'D. Ever think of that?" Steve Harrington asked, shooting Eddie a disbelieving look.

"I think she likes it. Why else would she keep me around?"

"God help your partner," you heard Mr. Greer mutter. "I'll be drawing names out of a bowl," Mr. Greer continued, choosing to ignore Eddie. "This keeps it fair, and everyone is guaranteed a partner. Now, you guys ready for some learning?"

Mr. Greer frowned at the silence that followed before he sighed. He pulled a large, neon green bowl out from a box beside his desk.

"Now, everyone should write their name down on a slip of paper and then come drop it in the bowl. When you're done, I'll draw the names."

"Think if we write really slow, he'll forget there was a project in the first place?" You heard Eddie ask the person sitting next to him. You glanced back to see that it was Billy Hargrove sitting next to Eddie.

"Just shut up and write your name already," Billy muttered. "You're starting to annoy the shit out of me."

"High praise," Eddie mused before he made a show of ripping out a piece of paper from his notebook. When he realized he had your attention, he shot you a wink, placing his pen in his mouth. He ripped the pen cap off with his teeth before spitting it to the side.

You rolled your eyes before turning back around in your seat. As you wrote down your name on your own slip of paper, you couldn't help but agree with Mr. Greer.

God help Eddie Munson's project partner.

***

You let out a sigh as you dropped into a chair at the library table you had claimed. Your books were already spread out on the table and your notebook was open, ready for you to take notes. You had an idea of what you wanted to do for the project and how you wanted your future presentation to go, but there was one key part that was missing.

Your partner.

You had been waiting in the library for the past ten minutes. You were starting to grow bored and impatient. You had already walked to the water fountain twice to get a sip of water and now you were absentmindedly drumming your fingers on the tabletop.

You were just about to leave, figuring that you were being stood up, when someone dumped their bag on the table in front of you.

"Sorry about that. Had a little business to attend to," your partner said before dropping into the seat across the table from you.

"You're late," you pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at your partner.

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, reaching out to grab his bag. "Like I said..." he trailed off, glancing curiously at the girl that was passing your table. "I had something else to take care of first."

You glanced at the girl, watching her walk away, before you looked back at Eddie. You wondered for a moment if his business had included hooking up and you found yourself rolling your eyes.

"Look, if you're too busy getting laid to do this project with me--"

"Getting laid?" Eddie's incredulous expression threw you for a moment. A smirk pulled at his lips as he leaned across the table. "Is that what you think was happening there?"

You shrugged your shoulders. " I mean...yeah? What else could it have been?"

Eddie chuckled, bringing a hand up to brush his hair away from his face. "That's just..." he cut himself off, his expression morphing from amusement to something you couldn't quite recognize. "Priceless," he finally finished with a sigh. "Look, we going to get this project started or not? I've got a meeting later I can't exactly miss."

You were thrown off guard by his abrupt change in demeanor. At first, he seemed like he was attempting to get along with you, but now you weren't so sure. Now, he kept his eyes down, rifling through his bag, and barely looked at you.

Was it something you said?

***

"So," Stacy said, catching up to you outside the cafeteria the next day. "What's it like being partnered up with the freak?"

You shook your head, shooting your best friend an unimpressed look. "Don't call him that, alright?"

"Why shouldn't I? Everyone else does. Besides, the guy is kind of freakish, wouldn't you agree?"

"I wouldn't say that," you argued, thinking over your afternoon with Eddie in the library. He had seemed nice enough at first, but as the evening wore on, he seemed like he wanted nothing to do with you. You had worried for a moment that there was something wrong, but he seemed to have a smile for everyone except for you.

There was even a moment when the librarian had walked by your table. She informed you that the library would be closing in ten minutes. Eddie had been methodically ripping up pieces of paper, seemingly listening to you talk about the project, when a grin had appeared on his face.

"Why Mrs. Jennings," he had said, leaning forward in his seat. "You're looking lovely as ever."

Mrs. Jennings was well into her seventies and had been married for at least fifty of them. And yet, her cheeks flushed and she looked as if she was a young girl getting complimented by her crush. "Oh, Mr. Munson, what am I going to do with you?"

"Nothing we can tell Mr. Jennings about," Eddie crooned, gifting her with a wink.

"You're terrible," Mrs. Jennings said, a huge grin still on her face.

"The worst," Eddie agreed, holding his hands up, as if saying 'guilty as charged.'

"You've got ten minutes," Mrs. Jennings reminded the pair of you before making her way towards a girl paging through a book a few tables over.

"Guess it's time to go," Eddie said, a waver in his voice that had you looking to him in confusion. His smile had dropped and now he was hastily pushing his things into his bag. "Got places to be. Things to do."

"Right," you mused, wondering if you had managed to somehow royally piss off Eddie Munson at some point in the past couple of hours. "See you tomorrow?"

"Sure," he had agreed before grabbing his bag. "Tomorrow."

"Why wouldn't you say that?" Stacy asked, elbowing you in the side as she steered you towards your next class. "All he does is disrupt class and heckle the popular kids and go on and on about D and D, whatever that is," she muttered. "He's terrible."

"The worst," you found yourself echoing Eddie's words.

But that was just it. Eddie wasn't the worst. He had been kind, if a bit standoffish. He had smiled at people and cracked jokes with people and basically looked at everyone except for you.

You had found yourself wishing he would give you the attention he was giving everyone else. If you were being honest with yourself, you had been the tiniest bit jealous. Even of Mrs. Jennings, because at least Eddie had had a genuine smile for her.

"What's that look for?" Stacy asked, drawing you to a stop outside your math class. "Did he do something funny to you?"

"No," you immediately defended Eddie. "He was fine."

But you couldn't help but think it over and over and over again as you coasted through your math class. You had been jealous of everyone having Eddie's attention. Did that mean you wanted Eddie's attention?

Did that mean there was just the smallest of possibilities that you had the beginnings of a crush on Eddie?

It should have been impossible. Eddie was loud and dangerous and everything you had never been drawn to in a person before, but now?

Now, you thought getting paired with him for a project wasn't the worst thing that could happen to you. Maybe you could learn more about Eddie Munson if he would only give you the time.

The thought carried you through the rest of your day until you were set to meet Eddie at the library again after school. You sat at a table for fifteen minutes, assuming Eddie was just going to be late again.

It wasn't until fifteen minutes turned into half an hour that you realized Eddie simply wasn't going to show up at all.

Maybe you had done something to piss him off the day before. Maybe he was blowing off the project because he simply didn't care about it or graduating this year. Maybe, you couldn't help but think, you should demand some answers from him. If he was going to waste your time, then weren't you entitled to at least know why?

You found yourself packing up all your books and papers, anger and indignation sharpening your movements. You offered Mrs. Jennings a weary, tense smile on your way out the door to your car. You fumbled with your keys, finally managing to get your car unlocked after a few moments of grumbling and cursing. You dropped your things into the passenger seat, your hands tightening on the steering wheel for a moment as you settled in the driver’s seat, and mentally mapped out the way to the trailer park where Eddie lived with his uncle.

You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. Eddie was sure to be home, right? Never mind that you weren't invited or expected. Eddie had stood you up and you deserved to know why he was content to let you wait for him when he would never show up.

However, by the time you were turning out of the library parking lot, all of your resolve had fled from you. You simply turned right instead of left, knowing that it was the route that would take you home.

If anything, you couldn't help but think, there was always the chance you could get your answers from Eddie the next day at school.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #reader insert #imagine #reader #living as foes fic #my fic

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eirian · 22 days

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HONESTLY..ive been thinking a lil.

so i started down my path to becoming a professional character designer in 2013, when i designed my very first character who was MEANT to be a character design exercise. i cant exactly remember what prompted me wanting to go into character design--it could have just been that i was passionate about designing characters to the point of where i had looked up if that was a job or not--but it had become such a passion of mine that i would go on to study and practice character design for like 10 years afterward.

in 2018 i started to take this career path more seriously by enrolling in stephen silver's schoolism class, the fundamentals of character design. this was significant for me because stephen was at the time a very recent idol of mine and i admired his abilities--plus this would count as my first "formal" character design learning experience. i didnt feel very good after taking the class; it was critiqued, and i kind of got ripped into lol. but after i recovered, i didnt give up and just worked harder, eventually taking his second class a couple years later. that time i did pretty well and i came out feeling like i was finally ready to apply to jobs in the industry!

unfortunately, erm...the job hunting was not only Not a success, but it only served to kind of kill my passion for character design. every time i applied i was rejected and every critique i asked for gave me something new i had to do differently. one critique in particular hurt me a lot and killed my passion for art overall (obviously not completely, i have the art autism so i could never fully fall out of love for it lol). it got to the point where last year (2023) i made the decision to give up on character design as a career and just do commissions full time.

dont get me wrong, i am very happy doing commissions as my full time job!!! i love drawing people's blorbos :]...but also, its a very inconsistent income, and theres been a couple months where i couldnt make rent without help, and that doesnt feel good at all.

so ive been thinking. i dont rly wanna go back to the industry--it still feels bad to me and right now it seems as though the industry is not in a great environmental situation anyway, so i dont wanna even attempt to try getting a job there again. however........i was honestly reconsidering if i had actually lost the passion for character design because it just genuinely wasnt my true passion, or if i had only lost it because the industry killed it. and i think the conclusion i came to was that yeah it was the industry's fault that made me fall out of love with it because it made me feel like i was doing everything wrong and nobody would like my design style.

so now my thought is like...maybe i dont HAVE to work in the industry to be a professional character designer? sure itd be AMAZING for my work to be on like. cartoon network or something. but i dont think i Have to work at a studio to be happy in that career path?? like..idk. maybe i can be a freelancer or something. if an industry opportunity shows itself i dont think i'll decline, but i wont actively seek them out anymore.

its just that i feel like ive put too much work and time and money and effort and passion into character design yknow? i dont feel right anymore just letting the industry kill that passion. i wanna reignite it and use the knowledge and skills ive gained over the 10 years ive been working at it to make a good living for myself. yeah itd be great to get guild pay lol, but if i can just...figure out how to do freelance character design work, then i think it can be just as good and fulfilling

sorry for the long post i just needed to air some thoughts out as usual <33 i guess this does show that character design still is my passion LOL i talked so fucking much about it after all. if u have any thoughts to share feel free i guess

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fictional-men-have-my-heart · 1 year

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Hello all! Welcome to day 22! Today I was thinking about what hidden talents the 141, Los Vaqueros, and Konig may have. Simple, yet sweet type stuff :)

Price:

He doesn't like to admit to it, but he can sing quite well. Most of you have caught him singing quietly in his office as he goes through files or when he thinks he's alone in the range. You caught him off guard once during a mission when he was on watch and thought everyone was asleep.

"Got a nice voice Cap." You mumble, watching him jolt.

"Jesus kid, don't spook me like that." He'd grumble, shaking his head.

"Sorry sir, just thought I'd let you know."

Ghost:

He secretly likes to read. You weren't sure whose books you kept finding hidden in the bunkhouse, but they were certainly well-worn. You had asked Gaz and Soap, but neither knew either. It wasn't until you borrowed one to read on a long flight to a long-haul mission that Ghost noticed.

"Where'd you get this?" He growled, tugging it from you.

"In the bunkhouse? It kind of just appeared, no one knew... oh." Suddenly it clicked. He seemed to recognize you had no clue, so he holds it out to you.

"Don't get blood on it, understand?"

"Yes sir." You smiled, finding your place again.

Soap:

Doesn't like to admit to it, but he sketches a lot. You didn't take much notice, figuring he was writing back home to someone when you'd find him scrunched up over a notebook. Once though, one of his books fell out of his locker, spilling intricate sketches across the bunkroom. You had lept to help gather them, stopping as you saw a lovely drawing of Las Almas from when you guys had been there.

"Holy hell Soap, did you draw this?" You had asked quietly, holding the paper out to him. A red flush had started creeping up his neck, tinging his ears.

"Yeah, I did. Look, I don' like showin' these off. Keep this quiet, yeah?"

"Sure thing, just... know they're really good. Frame worthy." You had grinned. He nodded, shoving the book back into his locker.

Gaz:

You learned Gaz was one hell of a cook. You hadn't noticed at first how at ease he seemed in a kitchen, nor how he seemed to never use recipes. Now, you sat watching as he seemed to glide around the kitchen almost like a dance, preparing some food for the team on a relaxing evening between missions.

"Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

"Picked it up over the years. Takes a lot of practice."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Plus, I figured it would make it easier to find someone if I could cook y'know?"

Alejandro:

You didn't think much of it when Alejandro easily stitched someone's wound in the field, most people could do rudimentary stitching with combat first aid. However, watching him meticulously repair a shirt after a rough undercover op had you fascinated.

"Where'd you learn to sew like this Colonel?"

"Mi mamá. She told us kids we would need to know how to fix our clothes since we shouldn't always look for someone else to do it for us. This was mostly because I kept ripping my clothes while cutting school with Rudy."

"Sounds like your mom is a smart woman." You had laughed. He smiled fondly.

"Oh, she is. Loving and stern even with my hardheadedness."

Rudy:

You could always tell Rudy was a smart, graceful guy. He moved quickly and damn near silently, his footfalls minimal. You finally broke and questioned it at one point.

"How are you so quiet all the time?"

"I took dancing classes as a kid."

"You what?" Your eyes snap to him, eyes wide.

"Took dancing classes. I like to think it helped round out the combat training I got when I joined the military. Quiet and ruthless." He smirked.

"Now I have to see you dance sometime." You laughed.

"Anytime, I can even teach you if you'd like."

Konig:

It's astounding the things you might miss about people if you're never in the right place. Konig was a reserved and quiet person, and it never crossed your mind he might have a talent for music or instruments given your line of work. But, when a mission was over and you were settled back at a relatively nice base with a piano, he watched as you and Gaz tinkered with it.

"You two disgrace such a lovely instrument." He joked, leaning on the doorway.

"Oh, can you do better big man?" Gaz had retorted. Konig motioned for you two to move, and he settled onto the bench.

It was a sight to see, his frame almost making the instrument seem normal-sized. You watched as he began playing softly as if trying to recall the notes.

"It's been a long time..." He murmurs, slowly gaining confidence. You grinned, enthralled with the lovely sound as he played.

"Even so, you play very well." He nods, offering the seat back to you and Gaz.

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sataniquepanique · 2 years

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Painkiller - Part One

Hi! I'm a long time lurker of fanfics, but a first time writer! Like the rest of you, I have fallen hopelessly in love with Eddie Munson. He also reminds me of not only myself in high school, but a lot of the people I knew. The freaks, the outcasts. I started this fic with my own high school experiences in mind, so those themes are sprinkled throughout. This will be a multi-part piece, with a lot written already. If it gets enough interest, I'll keep posting! Please be nice, I'm new!

~~~

Summary: You move to Hawkins during your Senior Year, trying to keep your head down and just graduate. You meet Eddie Munson, who tries to help you adjust to life in Hawkins. You're apprehensive but end up falling for him, only to be roped up in some drama when Eddie goes on the run.

Genre: slow burn, angst.

Warnings: cursing, general angst.

Word Count: 1.1k+

~~~

Part One: Cherry Bomb

“This is so fucking ridiculous…” you think to yourself as you walk into the lunchroom. It’s 11:40am, the time you’ve been dreading all day: lunch. High school is hard enough, but moving to a new town for your senior year? That’s pure, sadistic torture. In your head you replay the moment your parents broke the news to you a few weeks ago,

“You can’t be fucking serious” you said as you deadpan over to your mom’s face. “Watch your mouth…” your dad cautions as he shoots you a glance from across the dinner table. You laugh incredulously, “Mom. I’m starting senior year. All of my friends are here! Why are you doing this to me?” You plead with her, as your eyes start to well with tears. Your dad had gotten a new job in Indiana, some hick town called Hawkins. He couldn’t pass up the offer, so he was forcing the entire family to move halfway across the country from the East Coast. Your mom sighed and looked down at the table as you slammed your chair back and went to your room. There was no stopping this move no matter how hard you tried.

You scan the lunchroom for an empty chair, something preferably away from others. You aren’t very good at talking to new people, and mostly chose to keep to yourself. At your old school, you had a small group of friends who were like you: into art and horror movies and punk music. The lot of you didn’t fit in with any other social clique, but somehow found each other. “Remember…” you think to yourself, “…you’re just here to get through one year and graduate. You’re not here to make friends.” Finally you see it, a seat at the very back at the last empty table. You make a beeline for it, and quickly throw your backpack onto the table and sit down, pulling out your sketchbook and a pencil. You put on your headphones that have been hanging around your neck for the majority of the morning, and escape into Joan Jett’s familiar voice. Art has always been your thing, ever since you were little you were always doodling or sketching something on any blank surface you could find. Your mom had bought you a new sketchbook before the big move, in the hopes that it would stop you from drawing on your arms. Todays project was a space-scape, with a lone figure floating through the abyss. The nothingness of space mirrored your attitude towards this new town. Nothing. You felt nothing.

Suddenly, your sketchbook is ripped out from under your hand, causing you to accidentally draw a huge dark pencil scratch down the center of the page. “What the fuck dude!” you slam down the pause button on your walkman and look up and see a tall, blonde, smug looking basketball player holding your sketchbook and thumbing through the pages. “Check this out guys, we have a new resident weirdo!” He exclaims as he turns his head to laugh with the rest of his jock friends at the next table over. You remember him from your history class earlier, Jason is his name maybe? He wouldn’t stop ogling the cheerleader that sat in front of you in that class. “Can I please have that back? I wasn’t bothering anyone.” You say quietly, tucking a loose strand of dark auburn hair behind your ear. “Not until I’m done looking at your masterpieces.” Jason smirked, still tearing through the pages. You feel your eyes start to burn, and you try your best to not start crying. “HEY JASON!” You hear a voice boom from across the lunchroom. You look up startled to see a kid you remember from your math class, standing on a lunch table with his fists clenched. His name was Eddie, and you only remember him because he had leaned over in class to ask you for a pen. Not because he needed it to take notes, but because he wanted to etch Slayer into the desk. “Leave her alone, man.” He says more calmly than his previous outburst. “Or what? You want something, freak?” Jason yelled back, tossing the sketchbook back onto your lunch table and clenching his fists. Eddie put his hands up next to his head and stuck his fingers up, mimicking horns, while sticking his tongue out at Jason. You giggled at him, and he shot you a quick wink. One of the other kids at the jock table came up to Jason and grabbed his shoulder, “C’mon man, it’s not worth it.” Jason shot Eddie and you one last piercing glance and went back to his seat.

Eddie hopped down from his lunch table and slid into the seat next to you. “Hey, sorry about that, he’s a total dickhead. Do you want to come sit with us?” He motioned over to his table, a bunch of misfits wearing the same lame shirt with “Hellfire Club” emblazoned on the front. “No thanks, I’m good.” You said nonchalantly, not even looking at him while you put your sketchbook away. “Oh…uh, my name’s Eddie by the way” he stammered, obviously trying to keep a conversation going with you. “I know” you said matter of factly “you borrowed my pen in math earlier, I’d like that back by the way.” “Oh shit! That was you!” His eyes widened as he remembered. “I saw you drawing in class, you’re pretty talented.” You shot him a look, unsure if he was making fun of you or being sincere. “Listen, we have a club that meets on Tuesdays, Hellfire Club. We play DnD, and tonight is the culmination of a months-long campaign but we’re down a member. Would you want to join? I feel like you might be into it…” he trailed off. “….why? Cause I’m a freak like you guys?” You say, meaner than you had intended. Eddie smiled, the same devilish grin he had used on Jason moments prior, “Precisely.” You threw your bag over your shoulder and made your way towards the door, Eddie following behind. You stop in front of the Hellfire lunch table. “I’ll think about it.” You say, glancing over at the rest of his group, all of which were staring at you. You throw your headphones back on and hit play, blasting Cherry Bomb into your brain. You turned around before Eddie could respond, and made your way out of the lunchroom.

“Eddie, you seriously didn’t just invite your new girlfriend to Hellfire did you?” Dustin groaned. “Shut up.” Eddie snapped, shooting daggers at him through his eyes. “She’s not my girlfriend. Not yet, anyway.”

#Eddie munson #eddie #Eddie munson stranger things #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie munson edit #Eddie munson x you

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himynameis4 · 1 year

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Adult Byler Teacher Headcanons

They both teach at the same school, maybe even same district.

Will teaches art, namely Drawing & Painting I & II, as well as AP Art & Honors Drawing for Production & Design. (He also was dragged into making props for the school musical, and started/runs the school’s GSA. Mans is SWAMPED)

Mike teaches AP Language & Comp, Creative Writing, Honors English 9, and English 11. He also runs the school’s Literary Magazine, Newspaper, and Yearbook clubs. (Mans is similarly swamped)

(They’re both considering starting up an AV club & a D&D club, but where they’ll find the money or the time, they got no clue)

Will was the reason Mike first explored teaching. Mike had taken his dad’s advice & become a business major, because it can be applied to lots of jobs & is a good way to get a job quick, but… yeah, he fucking hated it.

He ended up taking one of the education courses Will was taking, trying to fulfill some credits & figuring having a class with Will would make it bearable… and then he fell headfirst into teaching

They were hired at the same time. They student taught together, too. A wave of retirees meant most of their colleagues were new blood, like them, and… well, there was A Lot of relationship drama among the staff. It was like a freakin’ soap opera. (Did my high school have a lot of interpersonal staff relationship drama? Yes, why do you ask?)

Will & Mike came out when they got married, because Will wanted to change his last name. By this point, Will was already running the school’s GSA. They hadn’t been very public about their relationship, having been there for The Sanders Affair Of 2006 (and the subsequent divorces, marriages, and affairs that came from said affair) & making the mutual decision to keep their personal lives private… but as their district became less conservative, they hadn’t exactly hidden it, either.

Their friends on the staff all know, & some are close enough friends to get invites

Will had gone by “Mr. William” for the vast majority of his career, so it wasn’t a huge shift for his students or anything.

Mike’s nickname is just “Wheeler,” a similar sign of affection—at least, to his face.

(His students call him “Hot Wheels” behind his back)

(Will is well aware of this, & endlessly amused)

Will’s hair has gone entirely grey. (Lonnie’s genetics, rip). Post-covid, he uses blue light glasses… unlike mike, who needs glasses full-time. (Will teases him about this quite frequently)

Mike finishes growing his hair out, but ditched the bangs. He’s one of those teachers who always has his hair in a severe ponytail (he likes manbuns, too, but you wont often see him with one bc We’re At Work, Will, I Must Be Professional)

They Do Not Talk About The Mullet Era

Or The Bowl Cut For The Entirety Of The Childhoods

They have matching rings, customized replicas of the One Ring bc they’re both geeks. They’re engraved to say “crazy together” in elvish. Technically these were their engagement rings… and also the rings they used when they got a domestic partnership, and also the rings they used in their wedding ceremony. For a long time, they wore them like necklaces tucked under their shirts (bc the Mike in the Math department & Sydney from Social Studies are MASSIVE gossips, and also bc LoTR is iconic & these two are cheesey af),

They started wearing them openly when Will changed his last name, though.

Will & Mike are the teachers who let students eat lunch in their classrooms. The ones who invite them in during free periods. The ones who hear about the shitty chem teacher, the asshole ex, the awful divorce, the toxic friend group, the impending move. They’re the ones who collect & display dozens of senior photos, whose hands cramp from writing yearbook messages, and the ones whose students will remember years later. They’re the ones who keep in touch—they get wedding invites and scattered letters and life updates.

Because they’re the ones who remember what it’s like to be 14, 15, and feeling like the world was about to end. They remember the bullies. They remember the isolation. They remember how awful it feels to grow apart from the people you used to hold dear, and how much they hated high school.

It’s why they love being teachers, exhausting as it is. They’re the adults they didn’t get in high school, despite their parents’ best efforts—they get to be the support they desperately needed. They get to watch their kids grow, and its so, so satisfying to know they’re giving the kids better than what they had.

But most importantly? They’re happy.

#adult byler #stranger things headcanon #stranger things headcanons #mike wheeler #will byers #byler #i just love them okay???#also will def studied abroad while in college #mike StruggledTM #there’s something ab having queer adults as teachers #made my high school experience 10000x better #& ngl the teacher drama was Something Else at our hs #the number of ex-spouses on the same staff…😬#also #they 100% adopt btw #they end up looking into older child adoption #espec bc of growing up w el #talking w joyce and hop and el actually helps them a lot #also also they’re both currently working on a comic book ab their childhoods #they may jot be bale to publish it #bc ndas #but they have it For Them #plus mike writes fanfic & will makes fanart #this is another part of their personal lives that their students Can Not Know #they’re trekkies & wayyyy into lotr #i have many more thoughts ab these ppl as adults #byler as teachers #ig this could work for a #stranger things au #but its not rlly its more of a where-they-could-go kinda thing

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chvoswxtch · 2 years

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are you taking writing requests? if you are I’d love an Eddie Munson one where the reader is new to Hawkins and he kinda takes her under his wing maybe? If not, then I totally understand. And I love the stuff you’ve written!!!

hi lovey, yes I am! I hope this is close to what you wanted. thank you so much for requesting, and the kind words! ❤️

there's no warnings for this except pure fluff1 word count: 1.4k

welcome to hawkins.

Changing schools was never easy, but having to switch schools in the middle of my senior year felt like some kind of cosmic punishment. I had begged and pleaded with my mom until I was blue in the face to stay where we were at least until I graduated, or to let me stay with my aunt until the school year was over. She had recently gotten remarried and her husband had been offered a new job in Hawkins, Indiana and was asked to start immediately. My mom assured me I would have no trouble making new friends, and I would have just as good of a senior year as I would at my last school. She clearly didn’t remember high school very well.

So that is how I found myself walking around in circles, class schedule in hand, trying desperately to find my Advanced Algebra class. My first day had not gone so well. I had to redo my schedule twice since most classes were full, I hadn’t been assigned a locker yet, and the only friend I had made so far was my American Lit teacher. I was on track for the most pathetic senior year ever to be experienced in the history of mankind.

I suppose I could have stopped someone in the hallway and asked, but I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself. I hated being the “new girl”, and I was sure everyone here could tell that’s exactly what I was. Hawkins was a small town, everyone knows everyone sort of thing. It wasn’t hard for them to spot an outsider. Besides, I had always been fiercely independent and stubborn so there was no way I was asking for help. I would figure it out, one way or another.

I groaned in frustration when I realized I had passed the same case of trophies twice. I hadn’t been given a map of the school, and refused a guide, so I was stuck trying to figure out what order these numbers were in. So far, they weren’t. Whoever designed this school clearly had a distaste for consistency. There was a black door to my right that was unlabeled. I glanced down at my schedule, and back at the door again. It would be my luck that the classroom I’m looking for had no numbers on it.

“Let’s see what’s behind door number one.”

I twisted the handle and pulled open the heavy door. The inside was dark, except for a few lit multicolored stage lights in the ceiling and along the walls. There was a large wooden table in the middle of the room, covered in what looked like some kind of map, with little figurines sparse all over it. There were several chairs around the table and a large throne at the very end of it. This is definitely not my algebra class. I was so enthralled with my surroundings I didn’t hear the door open, or the footsteps behind me.

“Hi.”

I jumped as the voice suddenly invaded my ears, spinning around to be met with a tall boy with long, dark unruly hair. His lips were split in a grin and he held both of his large hands up in surrender. There were various large rings on his fingers that gleamed under the stage lights. I found them captivating. He was wearing a white shirt that had a devil on it, and the words ‘Hellfire Club’, along with a black leather jacket and a worn denim vest atop of it.

“Sorry..didn’t mean to scare you.”

He was very attractive and I found myself struggling to keep eye contact. My eyes flitted over the dark black jeans he wore that had rips at the knees, but were especially drawn to his belt that had a pair of handcuffs as the buckle.

“You lookin to join?”

“What?”

His grin stretched even further over his mouth as he gestured towards the table. I glanced quickly behind me and then back up at him, confusion washing over my features. This must be some kind of club.

“Oh..no..I uh..just..looking for my classroom. And this clearly isn’t it. Um..sorry.”

I bolted past the handsome stranger out into the relief of the hallway. I wanted to smack my head against the door, internally cursing at myself as I fished my schedule out of my bag. God, why couldn’t you just be normal?

“Hey! You lost?”

I spun around on my heels to be greeted once again by the curly haired brunette. He had the door propped open with his palm as he leaned against the doorway, eyeing me curiously.

“I..um..yeah.”

I sighed in defeat as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, my cheeks turning a light shade of pink as I flashed him a timid smile. He chuckled softly as he took a step towards me, pointing towards the paper in my hand.

“You mind?”

“Uh..no. Go ahead.”

He smiled as he retrieved the paper from my hand, unfolding it fully to get a good look at it. His large brown eyes scanned over the words, eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise as he glanced at me with a smirk coating the corner of his mouth.

“Wow. You’re a real smarty pants, huh? The only thing on here not advanced is lunch.”

“Believe me, I tried. All spots were full.”

The grin on his lips only stretched even further, revealing a set of dimples on either of his cheeks. I felt a surge of pride that he had found my lame attempt at a joke funny. He held his large hand out in front of himself for me to take.

“I’m Eddie Munson.”

I gingerly placed my hand in his, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin against mine. I could feel the cool metal of his rings as he gently squeezed my hand.

“I’m Y/N. Um..Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N Y/L/N. Welcome to Hawkins.”

“You’re the welcoming committee?”

“Only for the pretty ones.”

Eddie shot me a quick wink and a wicked smirk as he handed me back my schedule. I did my best to contain the growing blush that was spreading over my face, dipping my head for a moment to place the piece of paper back into my bag.

“Come on, I’ll walk ya. You were only off by a few doors.”

“Oh..you don’t have to. I mean..if you’re busy with-”

“I’m not busy with anything. Besides, I’d never turn down the opportunity to walk a pretty girl to class. Shall we?”

Eddie offered me his elbow with a goofy grin, and I instinctively reached out to loop my arm around his. I couldn’t tell if he was flirting or just being nice, but for the first time all day I felt at ease. There was something relaxing about Eddie that made me feel calm, almost..secure.

“Here you are, m’lady.”

“Thank you, Eddie. I um..really appreciate it.”

“Don’t sweat it. This place is a maze, even I get lost. Well..sometimes on purpose.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, biting down at my bottom lip as we stood outside the classroom looking at one another. I didn’t want him to go. We didn’t have any classes together, so I wasn’t sure when I would have the opportunity to see him again.

“Well, still. Thank you.”

“Of course. Hey uh, if you need somewhere to sit at lunch, you’re welcome to hangout with me and my friends. I mean, we’re not advanced or anything, probably talk your ear off about the nerdiest shit you could imagine, but we do have our moments.”

“Really? You..they wouldn’t mind?”

“Mind? No. Have a heart attack from seeing such a pretty girl up close? Probably. But don’t worry, you won’t be liable.”

“I..I’d love that. Um..how do I find you guys?”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll find us. We’re hard to miss. See ya soon, sunshine.”

With a final wink and a grin, Eddie was off back in the direction we had come from. I was smiling like an idiot as I watched him, hoping that these next two hours would fly by. Maybe senior year wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things one shot

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