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virgofleur · 24 days

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summer heat, so sweet

fem!reader x best friend!eddie munson

story summary: a lazy, hot summer day and a first kiss or two (maybe three).

tags: best friends to lovers, tooth aching fluff, sweet eddie munson, pet names, pining, flirting, first kiss. no smut but a tad suggestive, so 18+ only please.

w/c: 2.2k(ish)

~♡~

Eddie was only six-years-old when he fell in love with you.

It was the summer, and you had just moved into the trailer park, all starry-eyed with that childish wonder, face glowing with a toothless, over-stretched smile once you caught sight of him digging a hole in the ground. You waved at him, hand flapping about, but he quickly shied away, retreating into his uncle’s trailer for safety and to scrub away the dirt under his fingernails and the pinky blush staining his cheeks.

Needless to say, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

Which was why he decided it was best if he never left his trailer again.

It was only after a week of self-detainment and too many Mountain Dews Wayne had thrown Eddie outside and locked the door. Not out of malice, of course. He loved his nephew. But all that pent up energy and sugar rushing through his veins had made Eddie wild. A firework exploding. He needed some peace and quiet, just for a little while.

“Holler if you need anything,” Wayne said, flicking his cigarette and patting Eddie on the back. “There’s water for ya on the porch.”

Eddie nodded, pouting. “Okay.”

“I’ll come get you for lunch. Be good.”

“Can you make PB&J’s?” Eddie asked.

Wayne smiled and ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Whatever you want.”

“I want two of ‘em with barbecue chips. And, and, some Dew—”

“No,” Wayne protested, but not unkindly. “No more Dew. Water only. Lord knows you’ve had enough to turn your blood into sugar. Now go play.”

Eddie swallowed. What did that mean? That he had sugar for blood? Was that even possible? Before he could ask, Wayne was closing the door, leaving Eddie alone to bask in the summer sun and wonder if his blood tasted as sweet as Mountain Dew. He hoped it did, cause that would be sick.

He’d set up shop behind the trailer, deciding he was going to build a castle out of whatever twigs and leaves he found lying around. Normally, he’d use his slingshot and shoot at some cans and bottles, but after he accidentally launched a rock into the window, shattering the glass, Wayne confiscated it. Which was lame, duh, but if Eddie was good enough, he’d get it back, and it didn’t take much for Wayne to cave.

Eddie began stabbing a few sticks into the ground, thankful it was soft enough from the day’s previous rain, when he heard a voice, small and sweet, slither up behind him. He startled and whipped around to see you standing there, clad in denim skimmer shorts, a t-shirt embroidered with a butterfly, and jelly shoes, your smile as bright as the sun.

“Hi!” you chirped.

Eddie blinked. Silent.

You took a step forward, trying to peer over his shoulder. Curious. “Whatcha doing?”

Eddie blinked again, assessing you like you were some tiny, unidentifiable insect. “B-building a castle.”

“Cool! Do you want help?”

"Okay."

And that’s how you and Eddie came to be. It had been fifteen years since that day, and here you were now. Stretched out beside him on his bed in your sundress, sucking on the remnants of your popsicle, book propped on your stomach, hair clinging to the sweat on your forehead, lips glossy and stained blue from your icy treat, a sight for sore eyes. Even to this day, the prettiest girl Eddie had ever seen. His best friend. His everything.

If only you knew how much he loved you. Then maybe things wouldn’t be so torturous.

“S’fucking hot,” he said, tossing his half-torn D&D notebook. Between the sweltering summer heat and the way your hip was searing against his, it was hard to focus on anything else. Hawkins had reached a record high, this heatwave showing no signs of letting up. The two of you had made plans to go down to Lovers Lake to cool off, but given how hot it was, the lake was more like a swamp, and the pool was closed.

Eddie’s trailer was the next best thing. The sun wasn’t as brutal as it was in yours, the porch ceiling acting as a barrier and preventing the sun’s rays from penetrating inside. Unfortunately, his air conditioner was on the fritz, and the fan you brought over only stirred the hot air around the room, but it was better than nothing.

You finished off your popsicle and tossed the stick onto Eddie’s nightstand along with your book. You turned to look at him, your cheek smushed against your shoulder, eyes soft, blue-stained lips poised with a question.

God, he could kiss you right now. It would be so easy. All he would have to do was lean over a few inches and press his lips to yours. He imagined them to be soft. Sticky sweet, like your popsicle. He imagined you’d like it gentle and the noises you would make as he split the seam of your lips open with his tongue. He’d hold you close, his arms a protective cage around you, fingers slipping beneath your dress and over the swell of your ass, giving it a playful squeeze before tracing the ridges of your spine, telling you how beautiful you are between kisses. You’d shiver against him. Tangle your fingers in his hair and tug in a silent plea for more. And, of course, Eddie would oblige. (Shit, he’d give you anything you wanted. He’d give you the fucking moon and the stars if he could). He’d bite your lip, suckle on it like the sweetest, candied berry before leaving a trail of love along your jaw and to your pulse point, where he would tattoo you with a wine colored bruise. Maybe two wine colored bruises if you let him, and in his fantasy, you did.

In his fantasy, you were his.

“You ever feel like you’re not a real person?”

“What?” Eddie said, blinking out of his daydream. He was suddenly very, very hot. Even more so than before.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not a real person?” you repeated with a bit more vigor. You wiggled your fingers and made a fist before flexing your hand. “Cause sometimes it feels like I’m a ghost. Like I exist, but in an alternate dimension or something.”

Eddie laughed softly and without judgment. “I think the heats getting to your head, sweetheart.”

You pouted, pushing his shoulder. “I’m serious, Ed’s! S’really weird. Sometimes I wonder if any of this is even real. If you’re real. If I’m even real.”

Eddie grew thoughtful. Reflective. Your words planted themselves like seeds in a garden, sprouting and blooming. He understood what you meant. Understood you completely. That feeling of being detached from yourself—mind, body, and soul—as if you’re living in a dream. Eddie was no expert. He wanted to comfort you, but the words just seemed to escape him, falling into a dark abyss.

He needed to get you out of your head, the place you resided the most, and though he never had the perfect remedy for these situations, he knew of at least one way to make you feel better, even if it was only temporary.

“Hm, there’s one way to test if you’re real or not.”

“How?” you asked, eyes wide and hopeful as your fingers came to latch onto the collar of his shirt. You were so close to him, and it was even more suffocating than the heat.

He smiled something wicked. Your eyes went wide, but not in the way they had before. In the way that knew Eddie was about to do something evil.

And like a hawk hunting its prey, Eddie swooped in.

“Eddie!” you squealed, giggling as he blew raspberries against your cheek. Your clammy hands cradled his face and you half-heartedly tried to pry him off. You squirmed, limbs tangling, your laughter vibrating through his body as his hands grew brave and his fingers began to skate and tickle across your stomach. It was childish, Eddie knew that, but what a wonderful thing it was to make you laugh. That was his favorite sound. Golden and sunny. Melting his heart into a puddle of goo.

He stopped, resting his forehead against yours, eyes flickering across your face. “I don’t know. I think you’re pretty real to me.”

You rolled your eyes, still giggling despite your feigned exasperation. “Dork.”

Eddie smiled. His lips were salty, but you looked sweeter than ever. “What about me? Am I real?”

There was a breath of silence as your hand came to his face, brushing back his dampened bangs to examine him. “God,” you said, a soft gasp escaping you. “Your forehead is massive.”

Eddie laughed and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. “You’re such a dick.”

“I’m just teasing, Ed’s,” you said softly, almost apologetically. Which shocked him because normally you’d have something witty to say. You’d never back down from a good jest. Instead, you were staring up at him, pensive, almost conflicting. Your hands came back to cradle his face, thumb gently pressing into the soft muscle of his cheek. It made his chest ache.

“Sweetheart—”

The rest of his words were lost when you kissed him.

Eddie’s heart stopped.

You kissed him.

Close-lipped, a chaste peck and hot all the same, made worse by the lovely little noise you made when your hips bumped into his. His arms were shaking as he tried to hold himself up, resolute in being a gentleman as his head began spinning, letting you take the lead. Because holy shit, you were kissing him. You were kissing him and his brain was short-circuiting and his heart was rabbiting in his chest and he couldn’t taste you the way he wanted to, but there was an undercurrent of sugar and salt that clung to his lips and he was already addicted and royally fucked.

He hummed, and that was what shook you back to reality, separating with a dry click and a rueful look pinching your face.

You flushed bright red, panting. You began to trip over your words. "I, I'm, I'm sorry. I don't know why—"

"Shhhh," Eddie soothed, nudging your nose with his. "It's okay. It's okay..."

Your mouth was a flower and he was the bee. He stung you sweetly and his lips moved like honey, slow, savoring you. You didn't protest, your body seeking him out and pulling him closer until his full weight was pressing you into the bed. He was gentle with you, a tenderness only reserved for you, and you shivered just like he imagined when his tongue split you open like a fig, lapping at your sweetness and resting his hand against your chest, feeling the frantic beat of your heart beneath his palm. Memorizing it. You let out a heady sigh and he became dizzy with it.

There was too much heat trapped between your bodies, sweat pooling between your chests, but you only pulled him closer, fingers scratching his scalp, mouths and tongues speaking a language only the two of you could understand. He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth and nipped. You moaned in tandem and you returned the sentiment and Eddie couldn't help but smile against your lips, breaking the kiss.

"How 'bout now? Is this real enough for you?" he whispered, brushing his lips against yours.

You swallowed, eyes wild. "Yeah. Oh my god, yeah."

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Eddie admitted, head still soaring above the clouds.

"Yeah?" you asked, breathless.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Fucking crazy about you. Always have been."

Your lips curled into a big smile. The same one he fell in love with fifteen years ago. "I'm crazy about you too, Eddie."

Eddie laughed under his breath. He couldn't believe this was happening. "We're gonna need to talk about this, huh?"

“Only if you promise to kiss me again.”

Eddie’s hand smoothed up the column of your throat, his fingers resting against your pulse point as his thumb made gentle strokes that had you shivering, skin hot. “Bribing me now, are we?”

“If I were bribing you, I’d at least offer to show you my tits.”

The cool guy attitude Eddie was putting quickly dissolved and he was choking on his words like he was a fumbling virgin all over again. “Christ. You can’t just say shit like that to me, baby. Are you trying to kill me?”

You giggled. Oh, you were evil. “Don’t be coy, Edward. I know you think about what they look like. I see you staring and—”

Before you could say anything more to embarrass him, he swooped down and captured your lips in his. A sealing of your fate. It was easy as breathing, kissing you, and he would be stupid if he was gonna pass up the opportunity to steal your lips and make them his. To love them the way he loved you.

When he woefully pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, cheeks singed and loveburnt. The blue popsicle stain had been kissed away and your chest heaved and bumped into his as you took in a deep breath. Safe to say, you were a goner.

“You were saying?” Eddie said with a teasing lilt, lips tingling with the taste of you.

You swallowed roughly, hands tucking themselves behind his neck. “Kiss me like that again and we’ll never leave this room.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby.”

Heat pooled in Eddie’s stomach when you brought your mouth to his ear, voice dulcet and sinful as you whispered: “Don't worry, I’ll make it worth your while, pretty boy.”

thanks for reading xx

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #best friend eddie munson

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lovebugism · 5 months

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congrats on one year of your blog!!

for your one year celebration, could you write something with the prompt

“you showed up at my door of all place?”

“trust me it wasn’t my first choice either.”

with steve perhaps? maybe he’s injured (because when isn’t he) and has no one else to turn to but the reader??

tysm lovie! hope you like it :D — steve seeks comfort in you, his rival since high school, a week after fighting vecna (enemies in love, hurt/comfort, post st4, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Steve’s stitches start weeping a week after the brawl with Vecna — the ones you’d sewn along his ribcage when a gang of demobats made a feast of him.

He’s gotten so numb to the pain (the constant, never-ending, three years of nonstop pain) that he doesn’t realize his wound has torn open again. Not until his shirt starts sticking abnormally wet to his skin. He looks down, notices the dark red patch blooming on the gray fabric, and then feels the distant stinging of the week-old bite.

Most of them have healed or are starting to. They’ve turned pink and marred over, unlikely to fade. But there’s one gash that refuses to mend, and he’s starting to think it might be some kind of bad omen. Like the constantly knicked sutures are some kind of prophetic telling of an undone fight and not just a consequence of his restlessness.

He thinks of you first, anyhow. Before a solution or a way to dull the pain. He thinks of you and your gentle hands and how you were the only person he’d let touch him after coming back from the Upside Down.

Steve drives to Forest Hills and ascends the rickety porch of your trailer even though he knows it’s 2 a.m. He knocks at the paint-chipped entrance even though he knows Eddie only lives four doors down. Max lives across the way from Eddie, and he knows that, too. He could go just about anywhere, he figures, but he’s here — on the steps of the girl who couldn’t stand him in high school.

You answer the door much quicker than he anticipated. Ten seconds after he knocks, you stand before him with wet hair and no pants. The damp strands drip onto the oversized shirt you wear. The sleeves of the old thing hang low off your arms, the hem of it falling just above your knees.

You don’t look sleepy despite the early hours of the morning. Tired, maybe, but not sleepy. “Steve?” you say, so suddenly alert at the sight of him. Your eyes, lined with a sleep you haven’t gotten in days, go wide with distant horror. “What happened? Are you okay? Did someone die?”

You ask him all this before he’s said a single word. Good questions when you live in a town like this one, when you’ve seen the things you’ve seen.

“Nothing. Everyone’s fine,” Steve answers in a monotone, still gripping his side with his opposite hand. “My stitches just ripped.”

You blink rapidly at him, trying to clear the daze of exhaustion and the subtle shock of seeing him. “Stitches— What?”

He pulls back his hand, the palm of it now blotched pink. There’s one large circle of deep brown blood staining his shirt and two more tiny patches just below it. “I’m bleeding,” he tells you, as if it isn’t obvious now. “My stitches pulled.”

Your gaping gaze flits from his freshly opened wound to the annoyed look on his chiseled face. His pale features glow amber beneath the buzzing porch light. “And you showed up to my door, of all places?”

“Trust me. It wasn’t my first choice either.” He clutches his side again and slides past you in the doorway, walking into your trailer, mostly uninvited.

He knows your parents aren’t around. It’s the only thing you’ve ever been able to bond over. You grew up mostly alone and learned to raise yourselves accordingly. So it’s not totally surprising to find your trailer dripping with girlhood — tiny trinkets, movie posters, half-alive plants, and vibrant colors. More of a home than his empty mansion ever was.

“Why don’t you just go to the E.R.?” you ask and shut the door behind you. You have to lean your body weight against it and press really hard — or else it won’t close fully, and the wind kicks it open while you’re sleeping, and you wake up to a family of raccoons ravaging the candy bowl on your coffee table.

Steve huffs and sits on your grass-green couch, face scrunching at the distant stinging along his ribcage. “Because I don’t know how to tell people that potentially rabid demobats took a pound of flesh outta me,” he sasses.

You shake your head. “If you get blood on my sofa, Harrington, I swear to god…” you mumble and sit down beside him.

You lift the hem of his shirt to assess the damage, knuckles skimming warm along his golden side.

Most of the bites scattered along his ribs are healing now. They’re small and shallow and turning slowly pink instead of scarlet red. But there’s one still pulsing crimson, the only one deep enough to need stitches. The only one refusing to heal.

The sight of the raw, throbbing wound makes your stomach writhe. You remember pulling the stubborn demobat off of him by its tail. You feel the sting of his pain even now, like it’s your own.

Steve watches your face the whole time. He decides to base his pain on how you look at him, whether you shrug it off or grimace in disgust. You do neither. Your eyes dart over his skin, glimmering with concentration, as your fingers brush his aching side with a gentleness he didn’t think was possible.

His brows pinch at your lack of response. He tilts his chin to his chest and ducks his gaze to look at you, honey eyes eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Is it bad?”

“Well… It’s not good,” you conclude after a few moments.

“That’s such a non-answer,” he scoffs, dropping his head to the back of the couch to watch you walk into the kitchen.

You disappear behind a wall for a few moments. The distant clattering of something, muffled as you dig inside cabinets, fills the empty trailer.

You’re back in thirty seconds, tops, with the first aid kit you’ve been a stickler about keeping restocked. ‘Cause Steve isn’t your first patient since coming back home. He’s not your second, either.

It was Eddie first, for his own demobat bites, and then Lucas when the cut along his swollen cheek split open again.

You’re not cut out for any of it. Not professionally, anyway. You only know how to do sutures because of Mr. Mundy’s ninth-grade health class.

You return to Steve’s side and begin to clean up the bite, lest an infection spread and Vecna take him out from beyond the grave.

The burn of the alcohol makes him wince. “Ow,” Steve whispers under his breath, a subtle pout scrunching his features.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you laugh.

“I’m injured— You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“You’ve been through three separate concussions and a thousand demobat bites. I think you can handle a little sting, Harrington.”

Steve tilts his cheek to his shoulder, squinting his twinkling eyes and flashing you a lopsided smile. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing your bedside manner is— ow!”

You start stitching him up without warning. You make it look easy despite having no real idea what you’re doing. Steve figures it’s because you’re a natural at taking care of people. Sometimes he thinks that’s the only reason all of you managed to make it out of the Upside Down in the first place.

“All done,” you murmur after you’ve knotted the last stitch.

“Thanks…” He tries to sit up again. The sting hasn’t yet left him. It’s less of a pain now, and more of a warning — the thin sutures screaming as they threaten to snap.

“If you don’t move around so much, they won’t pull. Again.”

“Is that the rule?” he teases.

“Yeah. That’s the rule— the don’t be stupid rule.”

Steve takes a sharp breath in and rises. He’s prepared for the ache, so it burns less this time. He sees you reach for him in the corner of his eye, hands darting out to help him and then shooting down again when you decide against it.

He wouldn’t have minded if you had. He would’ve made fun of you for it, obviously, but he wouldn’t have minded.

He’s been missing the warmth of your touch more and more since the Upside Down — back when he laid mostly limp on the arid ground of a desolate land, when you cradled his body to shield him from the bats flying overhead.

He stopped feeling scared when you held him. He thought it was because he was dying, but now he knows it was because of you. The healing in your touch. It’s like the amber glow of streetlamps in the dead of night, or sunsets that paint the whole world pink. Being touched by you is like dancing in summer rain and running through a field of wildflowers.

“Sorry, for uh— for keeping you up,” Steve apologizes and inches towards the door.

You follow close behind him, with an urgency that borders between letting him out and keeping him in. “It’s— It’s fine,” you stammer, then laugh at yourself. “It’s not like I was sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Steve asks, an inquisitive swirl to his scruffy features.

He turns around to face you more, his sneakers melting into the plush of your rug. Your hand gets clammy and tightens around the rusted doorknob when he looks down at you — with his eyes made of velvet and his mouth made of flower petals. His face is so hardened, but he looks at you so softly anyway.

“No,” you confess with a soft shrug. “I mean— after everything, I don’t know how anyone is. I was with Eddie earlier, and the fucker was passed out before ten.”

Steve breathes a sharp laugh through his nose. His plush lips curl into a crooked smile. “He deserves the sleep, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“And so do you.”

“I know,” you grin, equal parts bitter and genuine. “But I’m not getting any.”

“Me neither,” Steve confesses, exhaling so deep it makes his chest deflate.

The two of you linger in place for a long, long time. Both of your mouths curl to say the same things — let’s grieve together, let’s wait for the sun to rise so the nightmares will pass — but neither of you is brave enough to say them out loud.

“I’ll see you around,” Steve nods, finally.

You wrench open the door for him, pulling extra hard when it jams. “The next time you pull your stitches?” you joke, smiling like you’re not grieved to watch him walk into the empty night alone.

Steve grins like he’s not mourning, too. “Probably,” he scoffs.

Maybe before that, he hopes, healed again as he walks to his car. Maybe I’ll be brave enough soon.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

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pleasinghellfire · 2 years

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Come Here Lover Boy

Summary: You tried to have a sleepover with your sister Max but Eddie misses you too much.

You stepped into Eddie’s trailer to see him softly strumming on his guitar in the living room. He looked up and gave you a smile.

“Hi baby.” You smiled back, giving him a quick peck before you moved towards his bedroom.

“Hi sweetheart.” He placed his guitar up against the chair and followed you. Eddie’s eyes widened seeing you grab your favorite blanket from off the bed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going back to my trailer for tonight.” You explained as you grabbed a couple more things from off his side table.

“Your trailer- what? You always sleep here with me though?” Eddie began to panic. Eddie started to wonder if maybe he forgot something? Did he do anything to piss you off since you last saw each other a couple hours ago?

“Baby, wait.” Eddie jumped in front of you before you could reach for your pillow in the far corner against the wall. “Why are you leaving? Did I- umm. Did I do something?” Eddie asked you with his shiny bambi eyes, nervously scratching the back of his neck with hand.

“What? No Eds, you didn’t.” You dropped your stuff and held his shaking hands. “I was gonna go spend the night with Max. We haven’t had a sister sleepover in forever and I miss her.”

“You’re going over just tonight for Red?” Eddie asked. He let out a breath when you nodded your head. “Okay.”

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, picked your things back up and exited his trailer. Eddie still felt weird with you leaving. He didn’t know how he was gonna survive a night if you weren’t sleeping next to him and taking all of the blankets. It was barely five minutes and he was missing you talking his ear off about the shit you and Robin got into that day. He felt like he was going insane

Meanwhile back in your old trailer, Max already set everything up. There were sodas and different assortments of chips and candy all scattered across the table. The two of you were in the middle of washing off a calming face mask when there was a knock at the door.

“Twenty minutes.” Max laughed looking down at her watch. “I really thought he would come begging for you to come back in five.”

“Oh shut it.” You threw the towel at her and opened the door to Eddie, who changed into his pjs but looked like he hadn't sat still for one second. “Hi Eddie.”

“Hi. You left your teddy bear.” Eddie said handing you an old teddy bear Eddie won for you at a carnival on a date last year. Eddie’s cheeks turned red as Max let out a snicker from behind you as she tried to set up the next movie.

“Thank you Eds.” You gave Eddie a kiss and took the items. “Bye now.” You closed the door before Eddie could say another word.

“It’s disgusting how much he is in love with you.” Max shook her head as she clicked play.

Both of you got lost in the film. Max didn’t want to admit it but she was scared as well. You held on to your little sister’s hand as the character ran from Jason, turning the corner into the woods. Your heartbeat picked up as the film went quiet while the character tried to stay hidden. Just as Jason jumps out from behind the cabin, you and Max let out a loud scream.

Not even five seconds later, the door beside you pulls open and Eddie bursts through. You and Max screamed again and Eddie fell back to the ground, screaming back.

“Eddie! You fucking idiot! What the fuck?!” Max screamed, throwing her pillow at his head.

“I heard you scream.”

“What the hell were you doing outside the door?” You were still trying to get your breathing controlled.

“I thought you might get cold so I was bringing you one of my sweaters.” Eddie shrugged.

“Ugh! Bye Eddie!” You and Max said as you pushed Eddie out and closed the door.

“You couldn’t date anyone else who isn’t an idiot.” Max laughed with her arms crossed. “I’m betting he’s gonna come back in ten minutes.”

It was five minutes when Eddie was back at the door. You and Max exchanged a look before you two smirked evilly down to Eddie.

“No.” Eddie shook his head and tried to run off.

“Come here lover boy.” Max grabbed onto Eddie’s shirt and pulled him into the trailer.

Eddie tried to fight the two of you off as you pulled him into the bathroom but eventually he gave in. Even though the flowery scented clay mask you spread across his cheeks made him chill from the coldness, he loved how much it made you smile. He hated the bow tie you put in his long curls but he loved that it was you who had your hands in his hair.

“I swear to god princess, if you tell anyone about this, you’re gonna regret it.” Eddie warned as you finished the jewel clips holding his bangs back.

“She won’t tell.” Max said from the doorway as she snapped a picture on her camera. “But I will.”

“God dammit Red! Come back here!” Eddie jumped from the counter and chased after Max as you laughed.

#pleasinghellfire #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fluff #max mayfield #sadie sink #joseph quinn imagine

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steddieasitgoes · 5 months

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@steddiemas Day 21 Prompt: Home and/or Dinner

I honestly think this is my favorite one yet!

Tags: Pre-Relationship Steddie, Eddie Munson Has A Crush On Steve Harrington, Holiday Parties, Overstimulation (the bad kind, not the fun kind), Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 2215 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The holidays were always a quiet affair at the Munsons.

A few gifts, wrapped in week-old copies of the Hawkins Post, placed under a modest tree from Merrill’s. Wayne’s famous (well, famous to Eddie) chocolate chip pancakes in the morning with a questionable amount of syrup and a reheated casserole from Ms. Jenkins down the street for dinner.

No church or family plans, just the two of them, a couple of beers (root beer in Eddie’s case until a few years ago), and whatever movie Eddie had insisted they watch before he turned the TV over to Wayne and the Christmas basketball game.

It was good. Great, even.

Eddie loved his holiday traditions with Wayne.

He did, but sometimes he’d catch sight of Ms. Jenkins welcoming her brood of kids and grandkids into her cluttered trailer or spot Gerald loading the passenger seat of his pickup with toys for his nieces and nephews and wonder what it would be like to have a big family to spend the holidays with.

Turns out, it’s loud.

So, very, loud.

The Hopper-Byers’ new house is bursting at the seams with guests. The entire We Survived The End of the World gang is here along with some guests — Wayne and Ms. Henderson. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair stopped by for about an hour before excusing themselves to finish up holiday shopping (said in a hushed tone to not ruin Santa for Erica — as if she still believes, Eddie had thought). But mostly it was just the usual gang.

Eddie learned, in the form of Dustin’s “you’re being stupid” voice that it's become a tradition for them. Gathering a week before the holidays to pig out on food and dessert, play games, and exchange presents. Celebrate the year coming to an end and them making it.

As the apocalypse gang grew every year, the celebration got bigger and bigger until they were tripping over each other inside of the Byers house. That is, until this year when Joyce and Hopper got their shit together and finally moved into a decent-sized house on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s no Loch Nora mini-mansion, but it works for them — even if it's still a tight fit when everyone is together.

Murray, Joyce, and Ms. Henderson are gathered in the kitchen — arguing over when to take the turkey out of the oven and the proper milk-to-cheese ratio in macaroni casseroles. A small radio sits in the corner, attempting to play Christmas music over the static. That’s the con about living farther out, Eddie supposes.

El and Max have claimed a fold-out table on the outskirts of the kitchen where they’ve been decorating cookies for hours, it seems. El’s simple and artistic, Max’s a chaotic mess of spilled-over frosting and candy sprinkles. (Eddie’s stolen one from each and thinks they’re both delicious much to their delight.)

The den’s been co-opted by Hopper and Wayne, and the TV volume turned all the way up (“We can hear just fine! It’s you kids that are making it hard,” Hopper gruffed when one of them pointed out the volume). They’re switching between basketball games while nursing beers and pretending not to hear the argument going down in the kitchen.

Jonathan and Argyle are hiding out in his room — smoking and trying to drown out the noise with whatever record he managed to pick up from the store he’s working at. Eddie thought about joining him, but the scowl he earned from Wheeler Jr. had him changing course.

The rest of them have taken refuge in the spacious basement. It’s too chaotic for Dungeons & Dragons so the boys and Erica have taken to playing an intense game of Monopoly. The threats he’s heard hurled at each other have been clever and downright terrifying. Way worse than anything they’ve uttered at his DM table. Those heathens.

For some reason, Steve’s taken on the role of the banker. Something about Dustin skimming from the top last time he held the role and played. Now, house rules say the banker has to be an NPC, and well, Steve fits the bill. Unfortunately, he seems to be struggling with the math of it all judging by the scoffs and annoyed eye rolls thrown his way. Eddie would go help, but he doesn’t think he’d be much help. Godspeed, Steve.

Nancy and Robin are there too, sprawled out on the couch and lost in their own little world. Occasionally Robin gets up to flip the record on the record player, but mostly they sit together, gossiping and talking about who knows what in hushed voices. Eddie might understand every little thing about dungeons and hobbits, but girl talk? That’s an alien language if he’s ever seen one.

As for him? Well, he’s hovering in the middle of it all. With Steve occupied, he’s taken on his babysitter role of sorts. Racing up and down the stairs to fetch whatever snacks the gremlins demand, rustling Max and El’s hair on the way in, and nodding at Hopper and Wayne on the way out. He narrowly escapes being sucked into being the official judge for the impromptu Murray vs Ms. Henderson pie off and almost makes it up to Jonathan and Argyle’s room before Dustin is bellowing for him.

It’s fun, mostly.

Getting to see everyone relaxed and having fun. A far cry from the last time they were all together like this back in March.

In some ways, it's what Eddie’s always dreamed it would be like. Being part of a big family, a cog in a never-ending machine of noise and organized chaos.

But it’s also becoming a lot.

Lucas is about to put a hotel on Boardwalk that has everyone shouting and throwing their own pieces at his head. Steve’s trying to keep them under control but it's a losing battle. One that pulls Robin and Nancy from their own little world to join the chaos.

And then there’s even more noise.

A crash from upstairs, the blaring voice of Joe Strummer coming from Jonathan’s room, more shouting, Wayne and Hoppers stopping, and giggles from Max and El.

Suddenly all Eddie can hear is noise.

It gets louder and louder and louder until finally, he’s certain his eardrums are going to explode.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he pushes through the chaos going on upstairs (dropped pies and frosting stains and shouting at TVs) and makes his way onto the wrap-around porch.

The crisp cold air is the first thing that hits him. Like an idiot, he ran out of the house without a coat or scarf or hell, even the warm hat Ms. Henderson knitted for him earlier in the month. He shivers, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arm as he tries to take deep breaths, watching as his warm breath twirls in the breeze.

As his body adjusts, so do his ears. He can still hear the chaos going on inside, but it's muffled now. Distant. He can hear himself think for the first time in hours and for once, it’s nice.

The snow is falling in slow but steady flakes, dusting the backyard in the white. Or, it should be white, but the hoard of Christmas lights decorating the house illuminates the backyard in reds and greens. It’s a real Christmas wonderland out there, now.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his trusty lighter. The first inhale of nicotine warms him from the inside out, sending the goosebumps packing as he focuses on his steady and slow inhale and exhales.

At some point he zones out, so focused on the snow falling and the repetitive nature of lifting the cigarette to and from his lips that he doesn’t hear the creak of the door or the heavy footsteps that follow until the intruder is standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Figured you might be needing this,” Steve says, hand outstretched with Eddie’s coat.

“Thanks, man.”

They swap, Eddie takes the coat from Steve and Steve takes the lit cigarette from Eddie, keeping it safe while he shimmies his way into the monstrosity that he calls his winter coat. When he’s finally situated in the plaid nightmare, he reaches a hand out ready to take his cigarette back only to find it perched between Steve’s lips.

Oh.

That’s different.

Sure, they’ve smoked together before. Bummed off cigarettes in the ally behind Family Video and in the parking lot of Palace Arcade waiting for the gremlins to be done. But they’ve never shared the same one. Never pressed their lips to the same filter. Felt the dampness of their mouths on their own lips.

“Sorry,” Steve says, lips turning up in a small smile as he removes the cigarette. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Eddie nods, unable to say much else as their fingertips brush when he takes it back. Is it weird if he puts it between his lips right now? Is he supposed to wait a minute? Let Steve’s taste linger for a moment. God, he’s being so weird right now. In the end, he brings the cigarette to his lips and takes the smallest inhale, nearly coughing as the smoke floods his lungs because he’s so distracted by the way the filter feels different now that it’s been in Steve’s mouth — as if that makes any sense.

“You okay? You sort of booked it out of the room.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, before leaning against the banister of the porch. “Yeah, m’good. It just—“

“Got too loud?” Steve supplies, mirroring his position. “I get it. I remember my first holiday dinner. There were a lot less of us in ’83 but shit. It was still so loud.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a pretty loud son of a bitch.” Eddie’s caught off guard by Steve’s snorting. Stealing a glance, he finds Steve lit up in reds and greens, a smile etched on his face so deep he can see the spot where smile lines are going to emerge in the next ten years, catching the way his eyes already wrinkle in the corners. Fuck, he’s beautiful. “But, uh, yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house that loud before. Not even when I’m fucking around with the Corroded Coffin boys.”

“Well, I doubt that. Your music is very loud.”

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause it's metal, Steve.”

“So I’ve been told,” Steve says, smiling that soft, private smile again.

If Eddie was braver, he’d close the distance between them and press his lips to his. But if this year has taught him anything, it’s that he’s not. Not really. So he lets a quiet fall between them instead. They continue to stand shoulder to shoulder, passing the dwindling cigarette between them despite the pack in Eddie’s pocket being brand new, and watch as the snow steadily starts to pick up.

“You know,” Steve says, then stops.

Eddie turns, watching the gears tick in Steve’s brain as he decides what to say next. It’s magical watching it all pass on his face — the knit of his brows, his pupils dilating and returning to their normal size, letting the hazel shine through. The way his lips open and close like some gasping fish.

“If it ever gets to be too much, you can tell us. Tell me. Hell, I know I need a break after a few hours with those shitheads. Maybe we could come up with a code word or something.”

“A codeword? That’s might nerdy of you, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving his hand through the air as he bites back a chuckle. “But yeah, a code word. It’d be easier to say than “hey it’s too loud and I can’t think” you know. Plus, it would annoy the shit out of Henderson.”

“Well, then. Count me in. You know I love annoying the shit out of that kid. Gotta keep that ego in check somehow.”

They spend the next few minutes going back and forth trying to decide on a word that could work. Steve wants something common — a fruit or a vegetable. Eddie disagrees, saying it has to be something uncommon so they don’t accidentally say it, but common enough that it doesn’t sound weird casually being dropped in conversation.

They wrack their brain, throwing out silly words left and right until there’s a crash from inside. Their heads swivel in tandem toward the source of the noise. A flurry of shadows passes on the other side of the window as Steve shakes his head and sighs.

“Come on,” he says, handing the cigarette back to Eddie. “If we’re not at the table the minute the food gets served, we won’t be eating. The gremlins know no manner.”

Eddie laughs, stubbing out the cigarette on the ashtray precariously balanced on the banister, “Teaching ‘em manners seems like a job for their babysitter.”

“Nah,” Steve snorts. “Maybe one for their Dungeon Master, though.”

Just as the words leave Steve’s lip, there’s a shout from inside followed by another crash.

“Think it might be a job for both of us, actually,” Eddie laughs. “Together?”

“We need all the help we can get,” Steve says. “Together it is.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie fic #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #dani writes

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urhoneycombwitch · 2 months

Note

Hiya I remember awhile ago you did a blurb with autistic!reader and I was wondering if you’d be open to doing another one? I haven’t found many fics with an autistic reader and would love love love to see more ❤️

foreword: thanks for requesting, anon. autistic!reader is very close to my heart <3 this is based on personal experience with autistic shutdowns, I obviously do not speak for the entire autistic community as this looks differently for everyone, but hopefully some of you can find yourselves reflected here.

cw: descriptions of autistic shutdown, R goes nonverbal, gender neutral!R, pet names are used

___

You can feel it coming from a mile away- that slow, sticky, sinking feeling that starts in your stomach and ends trapped in your throat.

Words come fewer and far between, near the end of your shift- everything feels too loud and too bright and too much.

In the relative quiet of the driver’s seat, you idle in the parking lot, head thunked against the worn headrest, hands limp on the wheel. It’s like someone is walking through the halls of your brain, flicking off all the light switches as they go, leaving you empty and hollowed out.

Starting the drive towards home, you will yourself to feel something, anything, but know from experience that’s not how this works- you’re gonna have to ride the wave. Which normally would leave you feeling claustrophobic and panicky, but right now, you barely have the energy to keep your eyes on the road.

Hawkins is lush and blooming with spring, wildflowers growing alongside the roads, daisies poking out from the cool shade the row of trailers provides. It’s usually your favorite time of year, the sun easing any leftover aches from winter- but as you step out into the cool air, work bag slung over one shoulder, the sun can’t touch the dark shroud of your mind.

The trailer smells like heady herbs and spices, steam billowing from stovetop pots; Eddie’s monitoring them closely, wooden spoon dipping between the two to stir. When he hears the front door close, he half-turns to you, keeping his eye line on the stove- “Hey, sweetheart- pasta’s almost ready then I’ll kiss ya. Want parmesan on yours?”

“Mhm.” A soft noise, in the back of your throat, just barely louder than the buzz of the overhead fan. “I’m gonna… change.”

The words feel clunky, like you’re chewing on them before letting them out, leaving them thin and stretched; you don’t give Eddie time to engage in more conversation, moving at what you hope is a normal and not strangely-slow pace down the hall.

It’s quieter, in your room, the clanking of kitchen noises dimmed by the half-closed door. Your work bag drops with a thunk to the carpet. With movements syrupy-slow, you sit on the edge of the bed, toeing off your shoes, not bothering to strip off your jean jacket before curling onto your side, facing the wall.

Your hands cup the insides of your elbows, absently squeezing, your vision fuzzy with paint-chipped wall, the corner of a Dio poster. The overhead light is searingly bright, humming with energy, but you’re not ready to close your eyes and give in just yet, wanting to delay the strange and upsetting dreams that are sure to plague your sleep tonight.

Distantly, you hear the kitchen fan go quiet, then some more clanking, heavy footsteps down the hall- and then the click and subsequent gentle darkness of the bedroom light getting turned off.

With all the sources of indoor noise gone, you can track Eddie’s path through the room easily- first he cracks open the window, the far-off sound of birds twittering, a gust of sunset-tinged air breezing in; then he clicks on the bedside lamp, a glow much warmer and softer than the overhead light settling into the room.

”Oh, baby,” he murmurs, deep-timbered voice rich with compassion and worry. Under normal circumstances it’d bring you to tears.

You feel the mattress dip under Eddie’s weight before he asks, “Can I hold you?”

When you manage another hum, Eddie stretches out behind you on the mattress, your body molding easily into him. His arms wrap gentle but firm around your middle, legs slotting into the space made by your stacked knees, his chin resting securely over the crown of your head.

Your breaths come easier, with the pressure of his body; Eddie smells good, familiar- like spiced deodorant, cooking basil, lingering cigarette-smoke. You can feel his voice vibrating from where his throat is pressed into you as he speaks again.

”Thought something might be up when you got home- either that or you were trying a new method to break the time loop I was trapped in, ‘cuz that’s the only other reason I can think of as to why you wouldn’t kiss me immediately.”

He’s teasing, and while you can’t bring yourself to laugh, you slip your hand into one of his, fingers interlacing, giving him a little squeeze.

Eddie returns the gesture, rings cold but quickly warming against the back of your hand. “Your mean ol’ brain lock you out again?”

When you hum again in weary admission, Eddie clucks his tongue, pulling you into himself a bit tighter- “Gonna look around for that damn key, it’s gotta be around here somewhere. Y’know, if you wanted me on my hands and knees you could’ve just said so.”

Another squeeze from you, returned as Eddie lifts his head to press his lips to the side of yours. “I’m gonna help you out of this jacket, get you something comfy to wear, and then we’re gonna eat our pasta in bed because we are goddamn grown-ups with grown-up privileges. Sound like a plan?”

You nod, and Eddie reluctantly moves away from the warmth of your body, pressing another kiss to your exposed cheek before going over to rummage through the dresser drawers for some pajamas.

The tightness in your chest loosens, just slightly, but enough to draw in a full breath for the first time in hours.

The fog in your mind remains, but as Eddie starts telling you about his next campaign plans, filling the air with a steady and welcome stream of chatter, you feel light in the distance, a bit of hope leaking through the dark.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #e.m. thots from lu #eddie Munson x autistic!reader #autistic!reader #gn!reader

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azsazz · 1 year

Text

Ace of Hearts

Modern!Cassian x Reader

Summary: Cassian has always been there for you, best friend until the end. Harboring deep feelings for you without realizing it, he watches you navigate your love-life from the sidelines.

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence (memories)

Word Count: 2,082

Notes: Fluffy modern Cassian for the win! Shoutout @writingsbychlo for the title <3

_________________________________________

“A royal flush,” Azriel smirks, placing his cards on the table for them all to see.

Rhysands mouth drops in shock and Cassian groans, tossing his head back on his shoulders. His hair pulls and he winces. It’s getting longer and he should get it cut soon but he’s too lazy, and besides, he kind of likes the way it looks when he pulls it into a messy knot at the back of his head.

“Are you shitting me, Az?” he exclaims, all but throwing his cards onto the velvet of the poker table before him. He’s lost the last five hands and Azriel’s on a hot streak, but then again, the quiet man always is. He has better luck than anyone Cassian’s ever known, and he himself is just biding his time until the smirking man across from him wins the lottery. “You have to be cheating!”

Rhys grumbles, letting his measly pair sit face up, mocking him. He reaches for a handful of salty chips, the only thing that will make him feel better about his quickly dwindling wallet, and stuffs them into his mouth. His stomach growls in thanks, but it’s not enough. He clicks on his phone, biting back a smile as he responds to his girlfriend's cheeky text, before hitting the app for Velaris’ local pizza shop – Moon Pie – and adding his saved order to the cart.

Azriel smirks, leaning forward to drag his winnings back to his side of the table. The chips clack in a taunting manner, and Cassian can only glare at the betraying tokens. His friend is quick about it, the marred flash of his skin a beacon for all attention under the dim light of the table. Rhys nor him would ever stare. They’ve known Azriel long enough, had been the ones he’d run to when he was young and his step brothers made a game out of torturing their little brother, burning his hands with their father’s cigar lighter and a bottle of gasoline they’d snuck into the garage to get.

If he thinks about it, Azriel’s terrified scream still rings in his ears, even after all these years. Rhys and him had come running to the next yard over at the screeching but they were both too young to know what to do, and Azriel’s step brothers had turned to them with such wicked grins there was no doubt in hell that Cassian knew he was next to suffer the same fate.

It was Rhysand’s mother who had come to the rescue, dropping the plate into the sud-filled sink at the commotion and sprinting to where her son and his best friends’ screams were coming from. Cassian remembers her looking like a true superhero that day, calm as she helped Azriel stifle the flames. Nychta was on the phone quicker than he’d ever seen someone move, calling for both the police and an ambulance, screaming something about third-degree burns on a child and to get there as soon as they could.

She had always been a light in their lives, and became a mother to all three of them. Azriel’s own was away too often to be a stable parental figure in his life, and after what had happened with his step-brothers he was bound to be put into the system if Rhysand’s mother hadn’t stepped in.

Cassian was just another malnourished child from the trailer park, running around the neighborhood barefoot and holes in his shirts with a father that had run at the first sign of trouble and a mother he couldn’t remember. Nychta had gladly taken him into her home without complaint.

But she had died when they were teens, when all they wanted to do was graffiti walls down by the highway and didn’t give a shit about what any figure of authority had to say. She’d been driving Rhys’ younger sister to her dance recital and Rhys had reluctantly talked them into attending, saying he’d let them drive the brand new car his father had gotten him for his seventeenth birthday, when he’d gotten the call. There was an accident, Cassian heard through the phone…mother and sister are gone…my condolences.

None of them had driven that car for an entire year after that.

“Pizza will be here in thirty,” Rhys says, snapping Cassian from his harrowing memories. He’s grimacing, jaw clenched so tightly it aches when he opens it to choke down a swig of his beer. Azriel normally doesn’t miss a thing, but he’s focused on organizing his poker chips into neat stacks by color, five per pile.

He drags his gaze back to his own tokens, lips pulling downward when he sees how many he has left. They’ve only been playing for an hour but the hundred dollars he’d managed to scrounge up this week didn’t last him long, and he’ll be forced into watching if he doesn’t start winning soon.

“Veggie?” Az asks without looking up from his task.

Rhys rolls his eyes, answering, “Yes, Az.” He’s suddenly gone vegetarian for a girl he’d met in his earlier-than-even-satan-rises hot yoga class. The two haven’t even talked yet but Cassian has heard about it more times than he can count. He and Rhys have multiple bets going on: if Azriel will make a move, how long it takes him to start eating meat again, and he’ll be damned if he loses.

He’s tired of losing.

“Meat extreme?” Cassian asks, mimicking Azriel. His friend cuts him a sharp glare from beneath the dark fringe hanging over his eyes, gleaming gold like nocturnal animals, but Cassian only grins. He’s also made a pact that for every meatless meal Azriel eats, he’ll have double, and the way it annoys his friend is just the icing on his cake.

Rhysand puffs a laugh, dealing out another round of cards. “Yes, Cass, meat-heart-attack-extreme for you. Extra large.”

“Aces,” he sighs, grabbing a handful of pretzels to stuff in his mouth. He feels like the cat that’s got the cream but the emotion drains from his body when he sees the hand he’s been dealt.

“You fuckers can’t tell me that you’re not cheating,” he explodes, crumbles of pretzels spewing into the new pile of bets.

Rhys and Azriel share a look before they burst into a fit of laughter, wiping fake tears from their eyes and slapping their knees like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever seen.

Cassian can assure them that it’s not.

“I knew you could count cards, you fucking prick,” he grumbles to Azriel, shoving his chair back from the table as a knock on the door sounds. They’re at his and Az’s place tonight, not Rhysand’s mega-mansion because his long-term girlfriend is hosting a wine and painting party that Cassian knows is secretly a vodka spritzer and gossipping party.

He can hear his friends snickering all the way to the door and he nearly rips it off of its hinges, ready to take his budding annoyance out on the poor delivery driver.

But it’s not the kid in his teens delivering pizzas in his moms minivan standing before him. It’s you, glassy-eyed and streaks of tears cutting down your cheeks, even though you’d tried so hard to keep your composure after rubbing the droplets away.

Your smile wobbles but breaks into a desperate sob that has Cassian’s heart plummeting to the floor. “Hey, Cassian.”

His brows slant angrily and his grip on the doorknob tightens for a moment as he scowls over your shoulder. He’s quick to pull you into his chest and his warmth is as comforting as ever, even if his body is rigid with temper.

“Who did this to you? What happened?” he demands, hands finding your hair, twisting his fingers through your locks to scratch soothingly at your scalp as he drags you inside. His heart flutters at your proximity, the way you’re clinging to his shirt, but he mistakes the feeling as one of nervousness for you, furious on your behalf because his best friend shouldn’t be showing up at his house, crying.

“It’s nothing,” you snivel. “I’m just overreacting.”

“There’s no such thing,” he murmurs, squeezing your tighter. He can hear how his friends have gone quiet in the dining room. The sounds of your muffled sobs have caught their attention and he bristles because they shouldn’t be snooping. “Rhys and Az are here,” Cassian adds quietly, “Just so you know.”

You pull from his arms with a horrified look that would normally make him laugh. It’s not so funny when it’s paired with your puffy eyes and red nose.

“Oh my Gods,” you exclaim, trying to shove yourself from his arms. “I didn’t–I mean I really should have known, but please, Cass, don’t let me ruin your night. I’ll just go home and put on–”

His large hand caresses your chin, halting your words as he tilts your face to meet his gaze. The look in his eyes is stern, as is his voice when he says, “You’re never intruding. Rhys and Az can fuck off for all I care,” he adds, loud enough that conversation in the other room picks back up again. You roll your eyes fondly at his two friends that have also turned into yours.

Cassian’s voice drops again, thumb stroking across your tear stained cheek. “What happened?”

Tears brim your eyes again and your lip wobbles. Damn. He’d done a good job at distracting you and now you’re about to cry again. There’s a tug in his chest.

“It turns out Eris Vanserra isn’t all he cracks up to be,” you laugh wetly, and Cassian frowns.

He’d known it from the moment he’d seen Eris that the cocky asshole would break your heart. He’d spent days online looking into the man’s life when you had announced you were seeing him, and he didn’t like a thing he’d found.

But you’d been so happy that he told himself he wouldn’t ruin it for you. He was just being a jealous man, wanted what Eris had and had always been too cowardly to make a move. You hadn’t waited around for him either, didn’t know to.

You and Cassian had always skirted the line as something more, but that was just who you were, easygoing and ready to give anyone the shit they gave you.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says softly, but you scoff.

“Whatever, Cass. I know you didn’t like him.”

“No,” he agrees, “But I won’t do the whole ‘I told you so’ thing, don’t worry.”

You huff, shoving at his shoulder. “You just did.”

Cassian laughs and it warms your heart, stitching the pieces together in the only way a best friend can. You knew you’d come to the right person with your heartbreak. You’d rather be laughing through the pain than wallowing in it, and Cassian was just the person to pull you from your funk.

“Well, only the one time then,” he winks, giving you a squeeze as another knock on the door sounds. It’s the pizza this time and he thanks the driver before turning back to you, arms stacked with pies. “Why don’t you get settled in my room and I’ll meet you there for dinner? I’ll even make Az trade me half of his because I got meat extreme.”

“I don’t know how you eat that,” you crinkle your nose. “The cheese and bread are drowned out by the pound of meat on that thing!”

Cassian rolls his eyes fondly. “Spoken like a true carb fiend.”

Your soft smile turns serious, gaze flickering towards the wall that separates you from Rhys and Az. “It’s okay, Cass, have your boys night. I’ll be fine.”

“No,” he disagrees, balancing the pizzas in one hand while the other takes hold of your arm. He’ll drag you to his room if he has to. “You’re staying. I can see those assholes whenever.”

“Hey,” Rhys calls from the dining room and you laugh. He knew they were eavesdropping. “This asshole bought you dinner!”

Ignoring his friend, Cassian responds loudly. “They’re cheating!”

You scowl through the wall at them, as if they can see the way you’re mentally scolding them. “Well, in that case, we should take their pizzas and let them starve.”

Chairs scrape across the floor with protests and you squeal as they round the corner, zeroing in on you. Cassian gives you a gentle shove towards his room and puffs his chest, “Go! I’ll distract them!”

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian/reader #modern!cassian #mechanic!cassian #cassian has a vintage bronco #he's so hot for that

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badcaseofcasey · 1 year

Text

a/n: you guys are all too sweet - I'm so glad you're enjoying this little idea of mine, that has now grown into a 5k+ fic - so there's more to come!

Steve started high school with a chip on his shoulder; he’d done well enough in middle school sports that he’d be a shoe-in for JV, if not Varsity. He, Tommy H, and Carol had risen to the top of the pile, and even though they were back to being the new folks on campus, he was fully assuming that high school would be just as easy for him as middle school, at least as far as social standing went.

But as he got used to the new environment, he couldn’t help but notice the feeling of electricity that shot through his veins every so often. At first, he thought he could chalk it up to the sensation of being in a new place surrounded by new people, the hustle and bustle of it all, the independence of finally being a high schooler. It took until lunchtime during their third week of school to realize what the buzzing under his skin really meant.

Steve, Tommy, and Carol had just sat down to eat when Steve’s attention was drawn to a commotion on the other side of the cafeteria.

One of the other students (a sophomore, he thought?) had stood up on one of the tables and was speaking loudly to anyone who would listen. Steve was too far away to make out any of what he was saying, but he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and the buzzing sensation felt like it had been turned up to its highest setting.

“Get a load of Munson,” Tommy scoffed. “What a freak.”

“Munson?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, Eddie Munson,” Tommy explained. “He just moved here to live with his uncle - apparently his dad got thrown in jail and his mom didn’t want him, so he’s with his uncle in the trailer park. My mom heard about it from one of the secretaries at City Hall. Social Services brought him into town.”

“My sister says he’s so weird,” Carol added on. Her sister was a year older than them and Carol had taken to repeating whatever her sister had told her so they could start out high school quote-unquote the right way. “He wasn’t here last year, but he’s already been in detention like, six times for talking back to teachers. She says he’s the definition of trailer trash.”

Steve frowned. He tried to catch a glimpse of Munson’s face to see if he recognized him. Something about the way he captivated a crowd felt familiar. The buzzing sensation under his skin picked up again as Munson’s face turned their way. Steve snapped his eyes back down to the table.

“Whatever,” Tommy said. “He’s not worth our time, anyway.”

“Except for… you know,” Carol whispered, very poorly miming smoking a joint. “Apparently he sells drugs.”

Steve let their conversation wash over him as he pushed the food around on his tray. He had been waiting for the day when he might get to see his soulmate again, desperate to see how he’d grown up, if he still felt magnetic the way he had at the park. Now, it seemed, here he was. But could it really be him?

Part of Steve - the part he hated sometimes - was hoping it wasn’t the same person. The way Tommy and Carol talked about Eddie Munson made it clear that there was no way they’d ever want to hang out with him, even if they did find out that he was Steve’s soulmate.

“Steve?” Carol said. “Are you hearing us?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Munson’s a freak. Not worth our time.”

From then on, Steve was determined to see Eddie as little as possible. He convinced himself that maintaining the status quo and staying on the top of the pecking order was more important than anything else - soulmate or no soulmate.

Sure, he would still see Eddie around. He had a habit of showing up at parties he wasn’t invited to, there on business, as Tommy would jokingly say. Every time, Steve would feel that same rush of energy flowing along his side, where he knew the words hey, you want to fight a dragon with me? were scrawled. But every time, Steve held himself back, resisting the pull of Eddie’s magnet.

Even when Eddie flunked his first try at senior year and they ended up in some of the same classes, Steve did his best to stay away from him. Every so often, Tommy would try to get under Eddie’s skin, making snide comments as they passed in the hall, but Steve made sure they never lingered, reminding Tommy of his words in the cafeteria that day - “he’s not worth our time.”

By the time Nancy Wheeler came into his life, Steve fully believed that he could make a relationship work with someone other than his soulmate. Nancy had her words, too, though she also claimed not to know who they were from. For a while, dating Nancy was easy. It made sense: the handsome jock and the girl next door. If they just tried hard enough, Steve was sure they could have a good life together. People got married who weren’t soulmates all the time. And besides, Nancy made him a better person, and wasn’t that what everyone said your soulmate was supposed to do, anyway?

But then came Halloween, the word bullshit spat out in between sips of punch, and the revelation that Nancy’s words had come from Jonathan Byers, of all people. And Steve was back to being alone.

Or well, not really; because along with Nancy had come a gaggle of kids and the knowledge of things that he thought only existed in horror movies. And even after he and Nancy broke up and all the fighting was over - for now - he still had the distinction of being the best goddamn babysitter in Hawkins, Indiana.

So he had Dustin, and the other kids, and eventually Robin, and he was happy. Content. Eddie was still there, but almost in the same way he had been there before Steve had seen him again in the cafeteria. For now, Eddie was back in his memories. Steve was fine if he never saw his soulmate again - really, he was fine.

He could date, and hookup, and when he needed that feeling of something he would have forever that he could depend on, he could remind himself that he had the kids, and Robin, and Joyce and Hopper, and even Nancy and Jonathan, after a while. It was better this way, to keep that one perfect afternoon with Sir Eddie safe in his head, where no one could touch it.

Steve should have known that befriending a bunch of teenage D&D nerds would eventually come around to bite him in the ass.

Part 4

taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!): @infinitetrashbag @vampireinthesun @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach @thev01dd @obsessivlyme @a-little-unsteddie @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @spectrum-spectre @red-panderz69 @magpiemuseum @minjintea @finalmoondragon @thatonebadideapanda @estrellami-1 @freyaforestafay @biatcgh @sadcanadianwinter @im-sam-fucking-winchester @bidisastersworld @justanothergirlwithobsessions @anaibis @thing-a-ling

#i know - steve's a bit of a dick in this one #but he wouldn't be steve harrington if he weren't a dick in high school #i promise this gets happier eventually #my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #soulmate au #met as kids au #Stranger Things #steddie soulmate au

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harringtonswriting · 1 year

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Bestie. Bestie you know I have to. Obsessed with:

“this sounds like you’re flirting with me.” “...i have been trying to do that for three years now.”

Steve or Eddie, whoever your heart desires 💓

bestie i looooooove this!!! thank u thank u for sending it in!! i picked eddie hehehe i hope you don't mind!! 💕

...

“You sure this is enough food, Eddie?”

You’re teasing him, and you know he knows that, which is why he rolls his eyes with a smile on his face as he opens a bag of chips to pour into a bowl.

“You laugh now, but when you see how much food those little shits can put away, you’ll understand,” he tells you. He scrunches the empty bag in his hands before he throws it in the garbage bin under the kitchen sink. The kitchen counter, as well as the table, are all covered in various kinds of snacks, from chips to cookies to candy. Eddie’s also got beers in the fridge for him (and maybe Steve, but if Steve’s driving he probably won’t have any, which you know Eddie is counting on so he can have more for himself), along with juice and pop. A feast fit for a king, he’d told you when he called you earlier that morning and asked you to pick up a few things on your way over to his place.

Today is the day that Eddie is going to be teaching you, Robin, and Steve how to play Dungeons and Dragons.

He’s so proud of himself for finally being able to talk the three of you into it. This is what he told you would be a one-shot; a one-off adventure that’s only supposed to take a few hours, something that’ll let you get your feet wet and understand how things work before you join a campaign. Eddie had tasked you with creating your own characters, giving you a list of options and some basic ideas for backstory. He’d also invited some of the kids to join in too—you knew Dustin and Erica would be coming for sure, and you’d bet that Lucas, Mike, and Will would probably tag along too.

Since there were going to be that many people joining in, Eddie had asked you to come by early to help him set up. Wayne is out of town on a fishing trip, so you’ve all got the trailer to yourselves. It didn’t take long for you to help Eddie with some spot cleaning in the living room when you’d gotten there, last minute snacks and drinks in hand, and then you’d set up the new coffee table so that everyone could sit around it and play. While Eddie was bringing out his maps and books and gaming screen and shooing Ozzy away from knocking over his miniature figures, you were placing cushions and blankets on the floor to make it as cozy as possible.

Once you’d finished that the two of you had gotten all the snacks ready. And now that was done, the two of you could relax and spend some time together until the others got there. Which may be part of the reason you agreed to come over early; you enjoyed spending time with Eddie, especially when it was just the two of you, and you figured this would be no exception.

Your crush on Eddie was kind of an open secret, though neither of you had ever done anything about it. You’d always been kind of unsure as to whether he felt the same way; sometimes he’d flirt back, sometimes he’d ignore it altogether. But he never complained and never once told you he was uncomfortable, though you’d never really talked about it in detail. You hoped that one day you might cross the line you’d been toeing at for the last few years, but given how open you’ve been, you wanted to let Eddie take that leap, let him decide when he’s ready. If he ever is. You hope he will be.

But for now, you grab a glass of water for yourself and Eddie cracks open a beer.

“Hey, lemme see your character information before everyone else gets here,” he says, taking a long drink before putting his beer down, and making a grabby hands gesture towards you.

“I thought you wanted everyone to wait to introduce their characters when we start.” That was what he’d told you before, and Steve and Robin had confirmed he’d told them the same thing when the three of you had gotten together to try and come up with characters so that you didn’t accidentally all choose the same thing. Not that you’d told Eddie you did that, though Steve probably ended up telling Dustin.

“Yeah, but you’re different,” he insists, and you feel your cheeks get warm as you smile and roll your eyes. You go and grab your bag to fish out the notebook you’d done all your writing and planning in; once you’ve got it, you put your bag back and hand it to Eddie. He starts thumbing through the pages, scanning over what you’d written while he hums to himself. He doesn’t make any comments out loud, though, and the longer he goes without saying anything the more self-conscious you start to feel. Does he love it? Hate it? You can’t tell based on his expression, though you see the way that one of his legs is bouncing, which means he’s thinking.

“What, never seen a character that good before?” you ask, your tone teasing as you break the silence between you. Eddie’s leg stops bouncing and he shakes his head.

“Oh, yes, this is a masterpiece. Shut up and let me read,” he says, no real heat in his voice as he rolls his eyes. You raise your eyebrows and lift the corners of your lips up into a smirk.

“Maybe you should make me,” you tell him, the words rolling off your tongue as you lean against the counter. You’re absolutely aware of how it sounds, and by the way that Eddie’s cheeks start turning a bright pink you know he is, too. You can’t help yourself, though, because you do love flirting with him. Even if it goes nowhere. His leg stops bouncing, and you see him grip your notebook just a little bit tighter in his hands. He doesn’t look up, though. It’s silent for a moment until he clears his throat.

“You know, that sounds like you’re flirting with me,” Eddie says. He seems to be maybe a little confused, or maybe he’s teasing you. Does he not know that you really were flirting with him? You wish he’d look up so you could see his eyes; they’re always so expressive, showing off what he tries to hide, but you can’t see them now. And so now you’ve got a choice: you can deny it, or you can admit it. And you aren’t quite sure how he’d react to either option.

Well… this could be the opportunity you’ve been waiting for, so you say, “...I’ve been trying to do that for three years now.”

This time, Eddie drops your notebook. It hits the ground and a few loose pages flit out to land by your feet. He looks up at you, brown eyes impossibly wide as his mouth hangs open just a bit. You straighten up from where you’re leaning on the counter, feeling nerves start to creep in. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.

“Wait, I’m sorry, how long?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for you to answer before he continues with, “Three years?” He seems to be in complete shock, and while you’re feeling nervous, you’re also a tiny bit offended.

“Did you really not know?” Was your flirting really that bad? You didn’t think so, at least not until now. Robin and Steve could tell you were flirting with Eddie, with how much they’d teased you about it once they’d figured it out, and you were pretty sure some of the others you both hung around with knew too. How did Eddie not pick up on it? Steve said the guy was dense, sure, but you’d always thought it was an exaggeration.

“I thought you did that with everyone!” Eddie’s throwing his hands in the air, the apples of his cheeks going from pink to red and the blush starts creeping down his neck. It’s cute, but it’s probably not the time to tell him that.

“No, just you!” Which is the truth; you didn’t flirt with anyone else the way you did with Eddie, at least not on purpose. But apparently he hadn’t picked up on that.

“Oh my god,” he says, and his hands come down to tangle in his thick, black curls. He starts muttering it to himself, and the lack of a positive reaction is starting to eat at you. Your stomach twists because maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe you’ve overstepped, here, and Eddie doesn’t feel the same way as you. Which would explain why you’ve spent the last three years, since the day he’d walked into your shared English class with a well-worn copy of The Hobbit and did his book report on how Tolkien had shaped modern fantasy. His passion, his eagerness, and the way he talked with his hands completely endeared him to you, and you’d asked him to explain the difference between hobbits and dwarves to you after class. That’s when it all started. But here, in his kitchen, seeing how Eddie is reacting, you wonder if maybe this wasn’t all some big mistake.

“Eddie, it’s fine that you don’t feel the same way, and I promise I’ll stop now that I know it makes you uncomfortable,” you tell him, bending down to gather up your loose papers and shove them back into your notebook. You swallow past the large lump forming in your throat, a little embarrassed by it all as you stand back up. “I’m sorry. I… I should probably go before the others get here.” There’s no way you’re sticking around after this; you don’t know if you can spend the next few hours thinking about this with everyone else around.

“Wait!” Eddie’s exclamation takes you by surprise, and his hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist. His hand is warm, a reassuring weight that brings you out of your thoughts. You look at him, and while his cheeks are still red, he’s got a serious look on his face that you rarely get to see. “Sweetheart, I promise it doesn’t make me uncomfortable, I just can’t believe I didn’t notice before now. Please don’t leave.” Which loosens the lump, just a bit, and he tilts his head a little as he smiles at you. It’s a little bashful, his head ducking slightly. “Also, I never said I don’t feel the same way. Just so you know.”

“Sweetheart?” you ask, picking up on the new moniker he’s using. It’s cute, and it’s got your chest swelling with hope because maybe he does feel the way you do. He opens his mouth to reply when there’s a loud bang on the front door.

“Hey, Eddie, open up!” It’s Dustin Henderson, no doubt with the others behind him, and Eddie jumps just a bit.

“Shit! I hate Henderson’s timing,” he curses, and you can’t help the laugh that comes out at how Eddie’s face falls into a pout. Not that he’d ever admit to pouting, of course. “Look, we definitely need to talk about this, I want to talk about this, but if I don’t let them in, Henderson's gonna keep doing that til he breaks the door down.” Which wouldn’t surprise you. You nod, smiling at Eddie.

“Eddie! Open the damn door!” Dustin continues, banging louder this time.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Eddie lets go of your wrist, sighing. He raises his voice, yelling out, “Dustin Henderson, I will not hesitate to give you disadvantage on all your saves if you don’t give me a damn minute!”

Dustin immediately ceases his banging on the door, and instead lets out a frustrated yell before he falls silent.

“We’ll talk after the game, okay, sweetheart? I promise on my honour as Eddie the Banished, Master of Dungeons, that we’ll talk and you can flirt as much as you want, as long as I can flirt back.”

“If you know how to flirt back,” you tell him, and he lets out the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard as he walks over to the door to let in an angry Dustin, a grinning Robin, and the other exasperated members of the party.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #emma 💕

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doingthingsthewriteway · 2 years

Text

Is Where I Want to Be

Request: yes

Summary: alpha!eddie settles in with his omega

Home Pt. 2

Warnings: n/a

Neither Wayne nor Eddie had much experience with omegas. Not for lack of trying or wanting but omegas just didn’t thrive in the lifestyle they lived. Omegas liked structure, liked things tidy, liked getting spoiled. The Munson Men were notoriously not those things.

Needless to say, they were scared. Scared that sweet Y/N would wake up one morning, write a note, and leave. They’d lived that before. The rejection by an omega stung like a hornet’s chest in your chest. Wayne knew that all too well.

Yet, to their amazement, Y/N was still here. Every morning when Wayne would sluggishly return from work, Y/N was there with a pot of coffee on and breakfast ready. She was real good at biscuits n’ gravy and French toast (he didn’t have the heart to tell her that her scrambled eggs sucked).

Eddie would crash his way through the trailer before slopping into a seat at the card table with a huff. “Morning, sweetheart.” He’d rub at his eyes. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Y/N would purr with delight. She’d always wanted this: an alpha to look after, a home to take care of.

“What time is Hellfire, baby?” It had been a month and Y/N was still adjusting to their routine (despite how well established she’d made their lives).

“It’s right after.” Eddie hated saying “school” to her knowing she was working hard at getting her transcript carried over to the community college and he was repeating his senior year for the third time. Y/N was so smart and pretty and nice. His thoughts trailed off as he sniffed her. What was he talking about again? Oh, right. “Should be done by 7.”

Y/N hummed in a sound of acknowledgement while she filled a brown bag with Eddie’s lunch. She kissed his forehead, nuzzling the mate mark tucked away in Eddie’s curl with her nose.

Wayne had scarfed down breakfast and excused himself to shower knowing that the young couple would get all cutesy. He laughed under his breath as he watched Eddie all but howl with delight from the attention she was giving him. He knew he’d be staying at a buddy’s or a motel with the omega’s heat due to come again. Still, the kids were cute.

Y/N spent her days tending to the trailer. The Munson home had gone so long without a touch of attention that the smallest thing she did made the two men all sappy. Today, though, she was planning a surprise.

She’d heard so much about the little club Eddie ran. Did she ever want to play? God no. The idea of embarrassing herself in front of Eddie was enough of a distraction. Y/N did, however, want to support Eddie. So she made big batch of brownies and bought an obnoxious amount of soda and chips.

Was it dangerous to venture out this close to her heat? Yeah. She could feel it bubbling up from her core. A matter of days and she would be at Eddie’s complete disposal. But not presently.

Y/N loaded up the basket of her bike and headed toward the high school. Had she dreamt of her alpha still being in high school? No. But that didn’t mean a damn thing. Eddie was smart, just different. Different didn’t always fit the school schedule.

She chained up her bike and headed inside. Did she know where she was going? Nope, not a clue. If she sniffed really hard, she could catch a whiff of Eddie’s scent but it was hidden somewhere amongst the halls.

“Excuse me?” She approached a female beta lingering by the bike rack. “I’m dropping off snacks for uh, Hellfire?”

The short haired girl pointed to herself. “I’m sorry are you talking to me? Because like, omegas never talk to me. I don’t know why I mean I’d like to think I’m approachable.” Her cheeks turned pink. “Um, right, sorry. I’m Robin. Uh, Hellfire is in the Drama room. They’ve got a flair for the dramatic.”

Robin took the time to explain her directions which Y/N appreciated. Perhaps as a rare classification, Robin understood what it was like to be talked down to and found a way to not be condescending to the omega.

“Thank you, Robin.” Y/N chirped.

“Are you one of Henderson’s other older friends? That little gremlin has more friends who pay taxes than anybody I know.”

“Oh no.” Y/N dug the toe of her shoe into the sidewalk. “I’m uh, Eddie’s omega.”

Robin’s jaw dropped. “Are you, you’re not shitting me? Steve so owes me $20 bucks.”

Y/N offered a small smile and headed into the building. She knocked softly on the Drama room door before peaking her head inside. “Eddie?”

Her alpha was setting up board pieces, goofing off with pups that looked like freshman. His curls flew everywhere as he turned toward the door. “Baby!” Big, brown eyes glistened with glee as he ran to the door.

Y/N sheepishly handed her bags of goodies to him. “I brought things for you and your friends.”

“I see that, sweet girl.” He pecked a kiss to her nose earning a giggle in response. “Help me set it up?”

Helping her alpha gave her a rush she’d never known. Feeling useful wasn’t common for her, but now she was hooked. She plated chips and brownies and poured cups of soda for the rowdy group.

The little pup named Dustin had a million questions best summed up as “who, how, what, when, why”. Eddie’s cheeks turned the most delightful shade of pink as he mumbled out answered to the questions. Everyone seemed shocked to see their fearless leader so gentle, so domesticate, so alpha.

“Time to play?” Y/N asked, staring doe eyed into his. “I’ll head on home. Not feeling so great.”

Eddie escorted his little love out, pressing a kiss to her head. “Be careful getting home. In fact, the walkie talkie in my room connects to Dustin-don’t ask- just message me that you’re home.”

His ring coated fingers brushed over her neck. “I’ll take care of ya when you get home.”

Heat pooled in Y/N’s belly. She couldn’t wait to please her alpha once more.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson imagines #Eddie Munson au #alpha eddie munson

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fanboymickey · 2 years

Text

Harrington’s got her | Aftermath

Summary: Reader and Eddie had been high school sweethearts and planned on being together forever. Instead, life had other plans and flipped reader's world upside down. Now reader finds herself becoming a single mother and possibly falling in-love with her childhood best friend, Steve Harrington.

Word count: 1.5k

Warning: Angst. Teen pregnancy. Reader is 19 years old. Vecna and Eddie are both dead. Everything was solved at the end of volume two.

Request: Nope. I had an idea for this and just wanted to write it.

Pairings: Past Eddie Munson x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader

Writers Note: Hi! I’m still very new to writing but this fandom and blog has inspired me to write. As always, thank you for reading my work💛

“What do you mean he’s gone?” you questioned the young curly-haired boy. There was silence in the room for a minute, “Dustin,” a tear slid down your face, “please.” You whispered. “What do you mean he’s gone?” your eyes met with his blood-shot red eyes. You didn’t need him to give you an answer. You already knew what he meant, but you didn’t want to believe it.

“Y/N,” Nancy reached out to comfort you.

“No,” You moved away from her touch and broke into a sob, “I c-can’t, I need to go.”

Steve looked at the others for reassurance when they all gave him a knowing look he followed you out of Eddie’s trailer, “Y/N, wait!”

You had looked up at your best friend, “I can’t stay here- not right now,” you wiped away the tears that were still falling.

He pulled you into a hug, “I know and I’m sorry, but we all need to stay together tonight to make sure Vecna is gone.” he whispers into your hair as you cry into his chest.

“It hurts too much to be here.” You say as you hiccup into his chest.

In all the twelve years that Steve had known you, he had never been so lost at finding the right words to comfort you. You met Steve on your first day of first grade; you had been forced to sit next to him in Mrs. Watson’s class. You both didn’t click immediately but after learning that you both had a love of mint chocolate chip ice cream your friendship was born. You guys were inseparable all throughout elementary school and middle school. Once high school hit you both grew apart, Steve cared about partying, girls, and being popular while you just wanted to lie low and focus on getting good grades. You struggled to find happiness after your friendship with Steve ended. That same year, you had met one Eddie Munson who changed the entire course of your life. He was your first in everything and you had thought he would be your last, however; the universe had other plans. He wouldn’t be your last but he would be your first one last time.

You separated from Steve, “Can we at least go back to your place?” you wiped away your tears with your palms.

“Yeah, let me tell the others what’s going on and see if they want to come as well.” He turned to walk away. You grabbed his arm, “Can you grab one of his hellfire club shirts for me?” you pleaded with him and wrapped your arms around yourself. You felt like you were a five-year-old who just lost their safety blanket.

Steve just nodded and made his way back into the trailer. You hugged yourself tighter as you felt the cold march breeze on your back.

Steve shortly returned with Dustin in tow and one of Eddie’s hellfire shirts over his shoulder. You looked at Dustin, there wasn’t anything to say. You just pulled him into a tight hug, “I know it wasn’t your fault.” You could feel his tears soak through your jacket and t-shirt.

The three of you went back to Steve’s house. You had just gotten out of the shower and you were staring at yourself in the full-length mirror that stood in the left-hand corner of his bathroom. You stared at yourself, first your face and then at the scars you now had scattered across your body. You then looked down at your stomach. You hope the small baby that was half Eddie and half you was ok. There had been no difference in your appearance, but that didn’t make it any less real.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from crying again. You had spent the entirety of your shower sitting on the cold tile and crying. You had only found out you were pregnant a few days ago. You had planned on telling Eddie, but then everything with Jason and Vecna happened and suddenly finding out you were pregnant was the least of your worries. You had gone with Steve, Nancy, and Robin to kill Vecna and get your revenge for ruining Eddie’s life. Your main worry had been getting Eddie out of this mess alive- something you had failed to do. You wondered if telling him would’ve made a difference. Would he have not sacrificed himself? Would he be here holding you right now? Would he have been happy about the baby? Would he have married you?

You knew one thing for sure, he would’ve been here to raise his child. Your mind wandered through a million different what-ifs, but the truth of the matter is none of them mattered. What mattered now was that you took care of yourself and this baby- the last piece of Eddie that you had.

“Y/N, are you almost done in there?” You snapped out of your thoughts and quickly got dressed in Eddie’s hellfire shirt and sweatpants. You took in Eddie’s scent and tried your best not to cry.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You responded.

Two months had come and gone since Eddie had passed and you had barely left your room unless you had gone to appointments for the baby, where you had found out you were only 14 weeks along and the warm breeze of spring had arrived. You ended up telling your parents you were pregnant after your mother noticed you had been throwing up after any meal you had eaten. To avoid the awkwardness that was now your home life, you had gotten a job at the local coffee shop. It also helped that you would be making money to help support yourself and the baby. Avoiding your friends had become like a second job since you didn’t know how to tell them that you were only nineteen, not going to college anymore and pregnant with your dead boyfriend's baby.

You had stared at the boxes of Eddie’s stuff that sat on the bench of your bay view window as you lay in your bed. You couldn’t find the courage to go through his stuff and decide what you wanted to keep for yourself and what you eventually wanted to pass down to your child.

Getting out of bed had felt like another task on your list of things to do. Getting through these last two months was one of the hardest things you’d experienced, especially since you hadn’t been talking to any of your friends. They’d routinely call you on a rotation at exactly 11 a.m. and 7:15 p.m. every day. You never answered their calls by having your mom always cover for you. If you weren’t using the working excuse, then your mom would use the “she’s already gone to bed” excuse.

Your hand drifted to your stomach, a bump had just started to form, and you knew that pretty soon you could not keep your pregnancy a secret anymore. You had wrestled with the idea of having an abortion, pretending that this had never happened and hoping maybe it’d help you cope better. At your first appointment, you got to hear the small human’s heartbeat for the first time and it had sunken in that you had the last piece of Eddie that there would be. Somehow, the idea of carrying a piece of Eddie with you through your child had become comforting and gave you a reason to not let your life completely fall apart.

There was a knock at your bedroom door, “Hey Y/N, can I come in?” your eyes shifted from the box of Eddie’s things to the tall brunette-haired man standing at your door.

“Steve, what are you doing here?” It surprised you to see him there. “H-how did you get in?” Steve had come around a few times, but your mom had been kind enough to cover for you.

“Uh your mom let me in,” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “I wanted to make sure that you were doing ok, nobody’s heard from you in the last two months,” he walked farther into your room and sat on the chair at your desk, that was across from your bed. “We’ve called twice a day, every day and we promised if we hadn’t heard from you this month then I would stop by again.”

“I know.” His eyes moved from your face to your stomach and back to your face as you shifted to sit up in bed.

“Is that why?” He asked quickly looking back at your stomach and then to his hands.

“What are you talking about?” You knew he knew, but him knowing means it would get out to everyone and that would only make it even more real.

Steve walked over and sat on the edge of your bed facing you and grabbing both of your hands, “I know,” You had broken out into a sob and he moved to comfort you. “Have you told anyone else? Did he know?”

“O-only my parents know, I never got to tell Eddie.” Your voice was shaky, but you felt a sense of confidence and relief in telling Steve, he was your best friend after all and you knew you could always count on him to be there for you. All your fears about telling anyone else faded away.

“It’s ok, we’ll figure this out.” Steve hugged you tighter, you felt a sense of comfort in Steve’s arms that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Part 2

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things #dad!steve harrington

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tybaltsjuliet · 16 days

Note

I would love to know about your version of encanto <3

so, the big picture plot i picked up on from what i saw of the trailers was intact. big magical family, mirabel the only one without powers, has to Quest to save everyone else’s magic. the biggest difference, in my vision, was that bruno was still part of the family, and still ostracized, but, yes, virginia, THERE IS A DISNEY VILLAIN.

(i cannot, cannot, cannot express with words the thrill that filled my heart when disney released the teaser image of his creepy door and BAITED ME with disney villainy. *and* john leguizamo, love of my life since the tybalt capulet days, playing him? COME ON.)

anyway. the plot i made up in my head was something along the lines of: the family’s powers mysteriously all start diminishing, and mirabel, as the only powerless one, starts getting blamed for it, in a very faery-tale-allegedly-useless-third-son kind of way.

there has always been village gossip about how bruno was the most powerful of the madrigals, Before...Until...et cetera, so mirabel decides that if anybody can help her restore the magic (and get some damn respect around here), it is Mysterious Uncle Bruno Who Fucked Off To The Deep Wilderness For Reasons Unknown Many Years Ago. mirabel therefore also gets to have a proper adventure, which is very important to me, because then she can show off that even if she is not magical, she is competent and intelligent in ways that her family has never had to be, because magic makes their lives so much easier.

now, a twist comes when mirabel finally meets bruno and learns that she is, in fact, *not* the only one of the madrigals without magic.

bruno is, too. or, well, was - but the difference is, all of his powers of divination and prophecy were *learned*, not merely *gifted*. and, needless to say, he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about this. it is VERY COOL and kind of hot of him.

so. bruno takes mirabel under her wing and begins teaching her magic. his lessons are occasionally interrupted with diatribes against their family, which make mirabel kind of uncomfortable because, hey, family, but she guesses she gets it, bruno can be as mad at them as he wants if they treated him as poorly as they treated her.

(bruno’s conflict with the family turns out to be kind of a double-edged sword...they were wrong to look down on him for learning his magic instead of just being *gifted*, obviously. but it would be revealed later that he was also always kind of a huge asshole about it, acting like he was smarter than and therefore superior to the rest of them. there would also be something, i think, about the town being WAY more ambivalent about the madrigals than they are in the movie, and, obviously, bruno with his ego and his freaky prophecies and his lack of concern for anyone he hurt in the process of showing off DID NOT HELP.)

anyway, mirabel turns out to be really, really good at magical *theory*, even if she cannot do big, flashy stuff, and she eventually figures out that the reason her family is losing their magic is because they have gotten too complacent about it. she has her first real argument with bruno about this, because he thinks they *deserve* to lose it, and she thinks that is a little harsh.

i never thought out the denouement and ending too much, but the idea is that bruno wants to return with his sorcerer’s apprentice to take over the casita, because he feels they are more entitled to it, and to the respect/fear of the town, because he and mirabel *worked* for their magic. mirabel does not...wholly disagree, but she at least wants to bring this information to their relatives and give them a chance to fix things up. and bruno does not.

Conflict And Drama Occur, but the important thing is that in the end, mirabel democratizes magic in the town and becomes a magic teacher to *everyone*. her family has a newfound respect for and understanding of their own gifts, and, most importantly, a newfound respect for her.

so. moral of the story is that you cannot become too complacent with your natural talents, but you also should not be an asshole when you’re smarter than other people, and also gothic uncles are fun. the end.

#;ask me your questions and get some answers.#;dream factory.#;encanto.

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lovebugism · 1 year

Text

✶ ┄ I LIKE YOUR FACE !

summary: eddie and his cynical eyes have a confession to make pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 0.7k a short and sweet lil thing warnings: just tooth rotting fluff <3 a/n: i need this man like i need to breathe at this point ..

( MASTERLIST )

“I like your face,” Eddie confesses in the faintest, gentlest murmur a loudmouth like him can muster.

It hangs in the humid air of both your breaths and lingers beneath the thin sheet looming over the two of you. He smells faintly of beer and weed and the mint gum he chewed in attempts to get rid of it all, and you of the chocolate chip cookies you scavenged from his pantry like a person starved.

It’s getting hot and harder to breathe beneath the covers, in this impenetrable fortress you’d made out of blankets as old as the both of you. From where your legs are twisted together like pretzels, you can feel skin going sticky with a fine sheen of sweat. But neither of you are eager to leave; to pierce the bubble of peace surrounding his stained mattress like a summer cloud, with the both of you upon it.

You want this moment to last as long as the universe will allow it to.

You grow somehow warmer at the compliment. You tuck your face into the pillow beneath your head in a fruitless attempt to run away from his words.

Eddie’s hand rises from where it was twisted in the thin cotton of your t-shirt — an oversized piece of Blondie merch from a few years back he picked up for you at a thrift store; “Made me think of you,” he shrugged like it was normal for him to exist and see bits of you all around him.

His fingers crawl into your hair and settle at the roots, resting between the strands like they were made to do it. It sends a soft tingle down your spine.

You fear if you close your eyes for too long, you’ll fall asleep. That frightens you. It means, when you wake up, that this nirvana will be a memory.

You shift your head on the cushion to peek one eye over at him, all shy and cheeks pink with it.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” you wonder aloud. It sounds more pathetic leaving your mouth that it did jumbling around in your head.

You can’t help it, though. You need to hear it more than you need to breathe. Of course, I do. You’re the prettiest thing these cynical eyes have ever seen.

Eddie doesn’t say that. Not any of it. Not even close.

He only shrugs and juts his lip out like he’d never thought about it once. “I guess so,” he concludes. “If you want me to.”

Maybe he feels you stiffen from next to him. Or maybe he hears the way your breath catches in your throat. Perhaps it’s all of those things and the flash of hurt that strikes across your features like lightning. Because Eddie goes lax with a sigh, realizing how it sounded coming out of his mouth — more pathetic than yours.

He was never a wiz with words. That’s probably why he can’t seem to pass Ms. O’Donnell’s. Give him a D&D board, a beat up journal, and a campaign idea and he’s golden. But put a pretty girl in front of him and a heart so full he’s scared it might burst and he’s done for.

“It’s more than that, though,” he whispers. The breath of his admission brushes featherlight across your cheek. “It’s more than beauty... There’s a— I don’t know— like, a kindness to your face, you know? You look at me so soft sometimes, and no one’s… No one’s ever looked at me that way before. 'S nice.”

You feel your throat run dry like a barren creek at his honesty.

You’re not sure how he can say any of this with the way he’s looking at you.

His got this lopsided smile on his lips, pink and wet from where his tongue darted out to wet the chapped skin. His cheeks are splotched with red from the heat of the trailer and the blanket that nurses the two of you into the warmth of its velvet arms. Bathed in an amber light that seeps from his lamp and through the thin sheets, his gaze twinkles like that of a glimmering moon.

The entire universe swims in his eyes, and he’s looking at you with them. You're grateful for the chance to float in their infinity.

A kind face, you think to yourself. Hmm.

You’d never thought about it like that before. Albeit, you were never the kindest to yourself. That’s why you so often sought affirmation from the boy beside you, who held all his love in his hands and so-called cynical eyes.

Sometimes you didn’t think you were pretty, let alone beautiful. But kind? Soft? That’s so much better.

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #published by bug #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

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jesus-in-the-womb · 2 years

Note

Eddie finding out reader has an eating disorder (established relationship maybe?)

Ahh!! I truly adore every single one of you that sends a request my way, I enjoy attempting to bring your prompts to life!! it makes my day knowing that you chose me to write this!! Enjoy!! TW: MENTIONS OF EATING DISORDER, ANXIETY, SIGHT ANGST, SELF-DEPRECATION.

"Here we are, your Majesty." your boyfriend joked, walking towards your excited form that was perched on his living room couch. Your excitement dwindled down to fear, watching him place an assortment of junk food and sodas onto his coffee table. You were over at the infamous Eddie Munson's trailer for a ceremonial date night. You were expecting the usual, a light night picnic in his backyard, underneath the stars with a few beers and some fruit. To your surprise, he had said that he'd just rented a cool movie and was hoping you two could watch it. You agreed immediately, loving his taste in films, his taste in anything for that matter. But, if you'd known he'd come barreling out of his kitchen with calorie-packed snacks and sugary drinks, you would have pleaded with him to venture out into the grass.

He didn't notice your dismay, striding across the room to put the movie in. The long seconds it took for him to insert the VHS and start up the opening credits sent your mind into overdrive. You internally freaked out, eyes searching the bundle of food in hopes to find something healthy. You should've known, your boyfriend practically lived off of fatty foods. It was something you always found yourself growing jealous of, not once noticing a change in his weight from it, nor would you hate it if it had fluctuated. You loved every inch of him, no matter if it changed or not, his soul being the main thing that drew you close. It was your own fears and self-resentment that caused you to think like this, a strict diet and terrible self-image forced you to notice the number of calories in things as little as a banana.

When Eddie made it back to your side, he flopped down onto the couch, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you in close. You prayed he wouldn't notice how much distress you were in, leg shaking as it bounced in anxiety. He didn't notice thankfully, well at first. His body leaned forward, grabbing two cans of coke and passing one back towards you. You eyed it for a second, shaking your head with as polite of a smile as you could muster.

"I'm good, thank you though." he was quick to nod, placing it back on the table and trading the can for a bag of potato chips. The second he opened it, the smell of grease and heaps of salt met your scent, nose scrunching in nausea. You can't remember the last time you ate something that didn't have natural sugars, the last time you ate something manufactured. Eddie had known you for 6 years, 3 of those years belonging to your strong relationship. And not once, had he seen you eat anything other than greens and meat. It took him a while to get over his initial suspicion, chalking it up to you having a keen knowledge of what you put into your body. But, over the past few months, he was beginning to grow worried. He knew people who had specific diets like your own, but even they had 'cheat days'. His uncle being one of them, never touching anything with too much grease, but he'd seen him on more than one occasion, down an entire box of Twinkies; granted, the older man went on a junk food hiatus for a year straight after that. He'd never seen you even ogle anything even remotely close to unhealthy. It was beginning to freak him out, scenarios running wild in his mind, plaguing his thoughts with assumptions he was too afraid to voice aloud. Tonight would change that though.

Once the movie hit the hour mark, Eddie was growing paranoid with the sounds your stomach was clearly making. The volume on his TV was nearly through the roof, yet he could still hear gurgles of hunger punctuating themselves.

"You hungry? I have plenty of food right here, babe," he spoke, in hopes that you would practically pounce on the table, deciding he'd be okay with watching you scarf down a bag of Doritos like an animal if it meant that his fears would diminish.

"No, I'm okay," you flashed him your best fake smile, kissing his cheek and turning back to watch the movie, "I ate before I came over." it was a bald-faced lie, you hadn't eaten all day, work consuming a majority of your time before you'd arrived to the trailer park. Eddie knew you were lying, his eyes watching you like a hawk in case you showed any telltale signs. You did, your body going stiff and neck turning red.

"What is going on, Y/N," he turned towards you, not bothering to pause the movie. He didn't care that he'd have to rewatch the whole thing, he'd spent the entire time focusing on you anyways, "why are you lying to me?" hurt flashed through his heart for a second, the organ cracking in the slightest before he shoved the pain to the side, ushering his concern to take the spotlight.

"I'm not lying!" You squeaked out, wincing when you finally turned to look him in the eye, guilt eating away your chest with the gaze he'd set on you, "It's nothing Ed's. Can- Can we please just watch the movie?"

"It's not nothing Y/N/N, you're clearly hiding something from me. And I'm not going to pretend like you're okay when I can tell that something's up." He grabbed the TV remote, turning off the screen in hopes that it would conjure some sort of submission, in terms of you opening up to him. He would never force you to tell him something if you weren't comfortable doing so, but he knew this was something he needed to know, his thoughts confirmed true as he watched you begin to tear up.

You turned towards the blackened screen, praying that El would mentally lend you some of her powers so you could force the movie to come back to life, holding your breath as you literally tried to will the TV back on. A sigh left your lips, coming to the realization that you'd now have to tell your boyfriend why you'd been ignoring the mouth-watering food in front of you, wishing the couch would open up and swallow you whole.

"It's-" you paused, looking back up into his eyes, turning your body to sit facing him, folding your legs like a pretzel in hopes to prevent bouncing them. He followed your lead, copying your actions and reaching out to hold your hands, his eyes refusing to leave yours, even when he was met with your eyelids as you glanced down at your conjoined hands, "I can't eat stuff like that." you opted for a simplified version of your truth, assuming he'd just nod and go along with it before returning to the movie.

"Are you allergic or something? I didn't know, I'm sorry, I should be more careful." his caring words struck cords in your heart, face pulling into an ugly form as a sob left your throat.

"No! No, it's- it's not that. I just, you know, I can't eat stuff like that. I mean, look at me Ed, I'm not in the best shape." you watched as his mouth all but flung open, lips pursing into an 'o' in disbelief. He found it hard to hold back the anger brewing inside of him, knowing that it wasn't your fault that you saw yourself this way.

"Baby, what are you talking about? Your body is banging, if I wasn't already your boyfriend, I'd be a lovesick puppy around you," his words caused your chest to swell, a slight relief coursing through you, "you have a heart of gold, and the cutest little butt I've ever seen."

You let out a surprised gasp, scoffing before hitting his chest playfully laughing along with him, "you think so?"

"I know so, you're perfect just the way you are, I can't believe that you don't know how beautiful you are. It's literally insane. Do I need to call Pennhurst?" he joked towards the end, smiling softly as you giggled, happy to have pulled a laugh from you. He dropped your hands, opting to cup your tear-stained cheeks in comfort. Your body began to crumble, melting into his own as his lips began to dry up your tears, placing soft pecks here and there until he reached your closed eyes, placing soft kisses onto the lids before placing his forehead against your own.

"You're beautiful." you itched to tackle him in a hug, the man not really knowing the depth of your problem, yet still giving you so much reassurance, you were sure you could work your way out of the unending cycle.

"I love you." he smiled, leaning in to place one last kiss against your lips.

"I love you too, Princess." with that, he pulled away, turning the TV back on and shoving your back into his chest, holding your body tight to his and wishing he could sit there with you like this forever.

"You're not mad?" you asked, looking up at him and watching his neck strain to look down at you.

"Of course I'm mad, do you even know what a twinkie looks like?" he joked, forcing the most adorable angry pout to his lips, attempting to look furious, but ultimately looking so cute that it caused you to giggle.

"Nope." you popped the 'p', excitement flooding you at the all too familiar look on his face appeared. You'd seen it many times, the faux incredulous gaze appearing right before he shoved his fingers into the sides of your waist, tickling you mercilessly.

"Oh, that's it." you yelped, attempting to jump up from the couch, making it to your feet before the metalhead wrapped his arms around your middle, dragging you back to the couch and pinning you underneath him. His fingers softly dug into your sides, laughing above you as you squirmed around with shouts and pleas of joy.

"U-Uncle!" You yelled, hoping the boy would back off and you could dry your tears, your sides burning in slight pain, although you enjoyed the predicament.

"Wayne can't help you now, baby!" he shouted, moving his fingers to attack your armpits next.

When did you get so lucky?

oml... i love this... this has to be my favorite request!! Seeing as the ending is just too cute. Thank you so much for the love and support, peach out shawties!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #fanfiction #joe quinn #tw eating issues #tw anxiety

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munson-disruption · 2 years

Text

Like Real People Do

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (established relationship)

Summary: You play guitar for Eddie all the time. But they’re usually his songs—not this time.

CW: None. Just a whole lotta fluff

Word count: 0.9k

A/N: Title/work inspired by Hozier. Cuz I love him (not that you could tell by my tattoo with these exact lyrics) and Eddie would absolutely lose his mind if his partner wrote him a song like this. I’m also just a slut for song fics, so.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Come onnn, you’re too slow!” you whine, dragging Eddie along by the hand through his trailer.

He chuckles behind you. “How can I refuse when you ask so nicely?”

Upon reaching his room, you spin him around and push so he lands on the bed with a huff.

“What’s with the rush, sweetheart? Not that I’m complaining, of course. Kinda into it,” he muses.

You roll your eyes, not that he can see it in the darkness of his room. You fumble around searching for the lamp switch, a quiet “aha” passing your lips when you find it.

The soft light it casts through the small space is enough for you to make your way across the floor, dodging piles of clothes and whatnot all the while.

Situated in the only clean corner rests an acoustic guitar. A gift that you’d gotten Eddie for his birthday earlier in the year, to which at the time he insisted he couldn’t accept. He tried any excuse that came to mind—he’d somehow break it, it would get dirty, lost. And when pushed on how a guitar could disappear in a trailer park he responded with something along the lines of “The fuckin’— crows, baby. You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

Safe to say you’ve never seen a single speck of dust on it and have yet to witness the wrath of the crows.

And while he doesn’t play it nearly as much as his other precious baby, you got to play it whenever you wanted, so it’s a win-win in your opinion.

Eddie had heard you sing and play before, a lot actually. There have been multiple occasions you secretly learnt one of Corroded Coffin’s songs and performed them just for him on nights like this. The first time you showed him, you stopped halfway through when seeing the small tears gathering in his eyes. You joked, saying you didn’t think it was that bad, to which he gave a watery laugh. He assured you that he loved it, it was just that he’d never expected anyone to do something as sweet as that. All for him.

He was also impressed that you managed to turn their songs into acoustics.

Every time after that he’d sit there quietly, simply taking the music and image of you in. Then smother you in affection the second you finished.

But this time was different.

Eddie adjusts himself, getting comfy against the headboard. “Y’know, I think you’ve played about every one of our songs, sweetheart. What have you missed?”

You plop down on the side of the mattress, reclining back completely so you stare up at the ceiling. The guitar feels like a million tons against your middle.

“You can’t laugh, okay?” you mumble, not taking your eyes off the chipping paint above you.

“‘Course, baby. You know I wouldn’t.”

You suck in some air. Time to shine.

Almost hesitantly, you start strumming, the soft sound filling the otherwise quiet room. Your fingers catch once on the strings when changing chords, but you don’t stop, even when your face feels like it’s burning.

Why didn’t I make this intro longer, you scold yourself, not wanting to get to the next part.

You try to not let your nerves seep through too much as you open your mouth.

And sing.

I had a thought, dear

However scary

About that night

The bugs and the dirt

Why were you digging?

What did you bury

Before those hands pulled me

From the earth?

The words are only slightly shaky, but it doesn’t sound terrible to your ears.

You just hope he’s thinking the same.

I will not ask you where you came from,

I will not ask and neither should you,

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

Your eyes slip closed and you take a moment to breathe as your hands continue the tune. There hasn’t been any movement beside you, no sound. Nothing. You can only imagine the expression he’s wearing.

I knew that look dear

Eyes always seeking

Was there in someone

That dug long ago

So I will not ask you

Why you were creeping

In some sad way I already knew

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask and neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

Finally, you turn your head and risk blinking up at Eddie. Your voice doesn’t waver.

I could not ask you where you came from

I could not ask and neither could you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

We could just kiss like real people do

The last few strums ring out, and when they fade, it’s silent.

Eddie looks like he’s been holding his breath the whole time. He sits stock still, not taking his eyes off yours.

“Still with me?” you whisper, smile in place.

Ever so slowly, he moves closer, coming to kneel just above your head. He takes your face in his hands, and being this close allows you to see the glistening tears that have formed.

“Hey...” you move to sit up so you can face him properly but he ducks his head down, nose bumping into your chin as he kisses you. It’s soft, and you feel it against your skin as he stutters out a sigh. The contact doesn’t last for more than a few seconds, but he doesn’t stray far, his face mere inches over yours.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he murmurs.

You hum, tilting your head to chase after his lips again. “So I’ve heard”

He laughs and indulges you, and suddenly doing this for him more often doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.

#eddie munson fanfic #stranger things eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things imagine #imagine #fluff

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smolgloves · 1 year

Text

Survival

AN: My first attempt at a zombie gt story because I have wanted to do one for a while now.

Tw: Gore, murder, death, description of a corpse, blood, dehumanizing language, vore mention, it's a zombie story, what do you expect? 🤷‍♀️

How long has it been since the world went to shit? Aaron had lost count a long time ago, but it's hard to keep track of time when zombies roam the earth now. It felt like everyday was full of uncertainty, would today be the day a zombie rips his throat out, or would bullets from angry scavengers finally take him out? He should consider himself lucky, because he's a part of a group that promises to watch his back whenever they go on supply runs, but the company Aaron has is less than stellar.

Jerry was a middle aged balding man who is supposed to keep a lookout for any trouble but Aaron can't count how many times a horde of zombies had wandered through their position when Jerry was in charge. How Jerry managed to not get eaten by zombies yet is beyond Aaron. Honestly, Jerry shouldn't even leave the headquarters because he is a major pussy, which is rather surprising because this guy used to work as a security guard for a grocery store!

Then there's Stephen, this dude is just an asshole, when Aaron first met him, he just thought that Stephen was just a kid, but he's actually two years older than Aaron! Pretty pathetic that a twenty-seven year old would behave like a teenager. He thinks now is always a good time to joke around, as if the three of them weren't constantly looking over their shoulders. Nothing has come close to giving Aaron a heart attack more than when Stephen decides it's a good time to smash a window very loudly. Shit like this has almost made Aaron want to murder the guy, but unfortunately, Stephen is the nephew of their group leader. If he returned to the headquarters without him, there would be consequences. So as much as Aaron hates these two bozos, he has to put up with them and hope they don't get him killed one day.

The sun began to set and all three of them were tired of walking. They had spent hours raiding the abandoned dollar store for supplies and all they found were some General Bargains brand barbecue flavored chips, some Colas, and a pack of Barbie band-aids. Honestly, it was a waste of time and Aaron didn't understand why they had to scavenge every General Bargains in the state of Texas. There's too fucking many to keep up with and half of the stores were ransacked when this whole shitshow started! Now they're in the middle of nowhere with little to nothing to bring back.

"We should look for some place to camp out for the night." Jerry said, breaking the silence.

First great idea this guy has said all day!

"I think there's an old barn up ahead." Stephen pointed out.

"Then let's head that way." The three men walked up to an old decrepit barn that had been worn down by the weather. The red paint had been chipped away and weeds had begun their invasion to engulf the building.

But what definitely caught Aaron's attention was the rusty tractor trailer that sat on the side of the barn. Underneath one of the wheels was a man or at least what was left of a man. Upon hearing the three men approach, the rotting corpse raised his head and began growling at them. He clawed at the dirt desperately trying to get his meal but the enormous wheel kept the creature pinned to the ground. His arms were boney with tattered sleeves barely clinging to his body, dried blood had stained the man's white shirt, making Aaron wondered if this zombie was alive when he was trapped underneath the tractor wheel and left to die. One of the more haunting things to see was the zombie's face, his hair was thin and white, just barely clinging on to his scalp, his lips had withered away and now exposed his brittle teeth that chomped at the air upon seeing any living creature that passed by. But one of the haunting things were the eyes, all zombies had pale blue eyes that vacantly stared off in the distance, the only time Aaron has ever seen them light up was when they wanted to kill. The first time he ever looked into a zombie's eyes was the realization that the people who used to live inside those bodies were gone, only to be replaced with a primal beast who craved flesh and blood.

"Hey Aaron, watch this." Stephen strolled up to the zombie and started waving his hand just inches above his head. The corpse sprawled his arms out trying to grab onto his arm, but missed every time. Stephen just laughed. "Can't get me."

Aaron just shot Stephen a glare. He almost wished the zombie would just grab Stephen and yank him to the ground just so he could bite into his neck. The blood would spill out of him and stain his long brown hair and then his blue eyes would be filled with fear as his final moments would be realizing why he shouldn't have been fucking around.

"Stephen, quit playing with the zombie and go scout out the barn with Aaron!" Jerry Barked as he uncliped his walkie from his belt. "I'm gonna see if I can get a signal back to headquarters."

Stephen grumbled some complaints but followed Jerry's instructions and walked over to the barn. Aaron knocked on the door to alert any zombies that could be trapped inside, but the only growling came from the one outside. A good sign but that doesn't mean anything, there could be squatters inside ready to jump them the moment they open the door, not wanting to take a chance, Aaron pulled out his hunting knife from his belt. He looked over at Stephen who did not seem to take the same precautions, he just kept this bored look on his face. Aaron sighed and just hoped that if anyone was going to jump them, they'd take out Stephen first.

After some deep breaths, Aaron swung open the door and raised his knife in case something popped out, but fortunately, nothing popped out.

"You worry too much." Stephen chuckled.

"Someone's got too." He grumbled.

The two walked into the dimly lit barn in search of any supplies. However, there wasn't much around. Whatever supplies were in the barn were already taken out long ago, the only thing of value was an ax that rested by the door.

Aaron picked up the chopping tool, it was covered in dust and cobwebs and the blade was dull, but it was still salvageable.

"Hey, Aaron, over here."

Aaron turned to see his black haired partner crouching down and staring at something on the ground with a flashlight. He raised an eyebrow thinking that Stephen must have been fucking with him because there was nothing else in this barn, but he still walked over to the guy and saw a burrow in the ground that was the perfect size for a mouse.

"Okay…" Aaron couldn't hide the annoyance in his voice. "What about it?"

"I think it's a Neera burrow." He whispered.

"That's ridiculous." Aaron stifled a laugh. Neeras were small humanoid creatures that were made by the government to conduct experiments on because it was more ethical than using rabbits and mice. Except when the public found out that Neeras were pretty much just tiny versions of humans, activist groups rose up to end experiments on them. Science creates real life borrowers and this is what they do to them, no wonder this world went to shit…

"Neeras don't exist in the wild, dude." Aaron reminded Stephen. "It's probably just a mouse burrow."

"Nu-uh look at the hole, dude." Stephen shined his flashlight closer to the hole to reveal straight lines around the edge of the entrance."Those carvings right there, those were made by a tool."

"Sure man, great joke." Aaron rolled his eyes. "Didn't know I was in the presence of a Neera expert."

"It's not a joke, asshole." He growled. "Neeras are out here, Dr. Lewis says so."

"Dr. Lewis arrived with a massive head injury and said that he was related to Natalie Woods, dude is bonkers!"

"Okay, but he had proof that he worked for Micro-Lab!" Stephen snapped.

Aaron raised a brow. "What kind of proof?"

"Like a name badge from Micro-Lab," He replied Smugly. "And he even had a classified document about Neeras."

"What did the document say?"

"I have no clue, Uncle Tommy wouldn't tell me." Stephen admitted.

Before Aaron could argue anymore, Jerry marched through the door, his eyes shifted between the two men. "Anything useful?"

"Not really." Stephen said. "Aaron found an ax though."

Aaron held up the blade. "But it's rusty."

"I'm sure headquarters will fix it up and make good use out of it." Jerry cleared his throat. "Anyways, Sherry and Monnie are on their way with a crew to pick us up, but they won't be able to get here until morning. So we're gonna camp out here for the night."

~~~~~~~~

It wasn't long before Sherry and Monnie would come to pick them up, and Aaron couldn't be more glad. The hours had gone by painfully slow, nothing was more annoying than Stephen's snoring; which made Aaron consider the possibility of swinging the ax deep into his face. Surely no one would fault him for it? The dude's snores were loud enough to alert all the zombies where they were! He was lucky Jerry fell asleep first, otherwise, he would get pissed at him for falling asleep with a bag of the barbecue chips in his hands; not that stale chips would really be an issue, General Bargains always had stale chips even before the bags were sealed.

The sound of dirt shifting broke Aaron of his thoughts. He scanned the area for the source until his brown eyes settled on a small figure skitter across the ground. It ran on two long legs like an Olympic runner towards the bag of chips but it stopped at the opening and then crouched down to grab the crumbs then dispose of them in some sort of pouch. There was no doubt about it, the creature was a Neera!

Stephen shifted towards his side, causing the little Neera to gasp and stumble back into the chip bag; a crunch from the chips and bag left a deafening echo in the barn. In a flash, Stephen was up and snatched the bag up from the ground, the Neera yelped as they got jostled, alerting the man of their presence.

"What the fuck!" Stephen snapped as he peered down the bag.

"What is going on, Steph?!" Jerry growled as he stirred from his slumber.

"A fucking Neera, that's what!"

The fastest Jerry has ever moved was at this moment, he scrambled over to Stephen and shined a flashlight down the bag to gawk at the tiny person. Stephen dug his hand down the bag and then plucked the Neera from their hiding spot. Aaron could now see that the small creature was a young female, with long white hair that was spilling out of a navy green beanie. Her crimson eyes were filled with fear as she glanced at each and every one of them, she immediately began struggling in Stephen's hand.

"Let me go!" She snarled.

"No way, rat!" Stephen barked as he ripped the pouch that was now revealed to be a makeshift backpack and handed it to Jerry, who quickly dumped the contents out to reveal the crumbs she had previously taken.

"She took our chips." Jerry replied stiffly.

"You little pest, that is our supplies!" Stephen growled.

"Yeah, well maybe you shouldn't have fallen asleep with it open!" The tiny woman snapped back.

Aaron let out a chuckle, this Neera had bigger balls than the two men who were looming over her.

Stephen glared up at Aaron's amusement but then turned his attention back to the woman. "Do you know what your little stunt could have done to my survival?"

"I'm trying to survive too!" A sense of panic slipped out of the Neera's shouts.

"Come on, let her be," Aaron stood up. "It's not like she stole a lot at her size."

"You know the rules," Jerry replied back. "No one steals from GB's supplies."

"It was literally crumbs!" Aaron snapped. "Are we really gonna execute a Neera for stealing crumbs?"

"Execute?!" The Neera started flailing in the air, causing Stephen to adjust his grip in a fist. She let out a gasp as his grip grew tighter.

"Yes, we are, and I know just the way to do it." Stephen stood up and marched out of the barn with Jerry following behind.

Aaron could feel blood boiling, he was so sick of General Bargin's stupid rules. Does the leader not understand that other people are trying to survive? His community can do fine without a bag of chips but here is his entitled nephew ready to kill someone for fucking crumbs! It wasn't right and Aaron was tired of turning his head to pretend he was okay with this bullshit.

He gripped the handle of the ax tighter and stormed out of the barn. Dawn had given the sky an eerie red color that gave a sense of dread inside Aaron. There wasn't much time until Sherry and Monnie arrived, so he had to act fast.

The snarls of the zombie caught his attention, Aaron saw the two assholes crouched down by the corpse just out of arm's reach, however he saw Stephen dangling the Neera by her leg just above the zombie like she was a piece of bait for it to munch on.

"You can have your fucking chips back!" The little woman shrieked out as she flailed around. "Just put me down!"

"Aww but this guy needs to survive too..." Stephen chuckled as he lowered the Neera closer to the chomping zombie. "Just let him have a nibble."

Aaron felt his stomach twist into a knot, it was sickening watching Stephen joke around with the poor girl's life. He didn't even have the decency to snuff her life out quickly, he wanted to watch her suffer and he had to find a sick sense of joy outta this.

This bastard needs to die…

It almost felt like someone else was controlling Aaron's body as he hoisted the ax up, at any moment he could have stopped himself and looked away like he always did; but he didn't want to. Aaron swung his ax right into the side of Stephen's neck. There was a stunned silence in the air, the only noises coming from the hungry zombie.

Without another though, Aaron ripped the ax out of Stephen's neck; blood gushed out of the gaping wound. He choked out a gurgle before lurching forward and collided with the bloodthirsty creature.

The zombie sunk his teeth into Stephen's neck, intensifying the wound, no longer was he interested in the tiny Neera when bigger prey made itself more accessible. Stephen couldn't even let out a scream as he choked on his own blood.

As for the Neera, she was released from her captor's grip. She slammed into the zombie's shoulder before slipping down and hitting his boney forearm, she tried to grip onto the raggedy shirt but the zombie's erratic movements caused her to plummet to the ground and land in Stephen's puddle of blood. A groan escaped her lips, Aaron hoped that was a good sign for her sake but he didn't have time to check as his attention turned to Jerry.

Fear paralyzed the older man, everything happened so fast that he didn't have enough time to react before Aaron swiftly kicked Jerry forward, causing him to stumble into the zombie. The undead man stopped digging into Stephen and turned his attention to what bumped into him. His decayed fingers clamped down on Jerry's shoulders and he dragged himself over to the human. Jerry struggled to break free but a zombie's grip was almost inhumanly strong, rotten teeth sunk into Jerry's plump cheek and he let out a blood-curdling scream. He flailed around as much as the Neera did when she was captured except he looked more terrified than she did.

"WHY AARON?!" Jerry cried out.

But Aaron didn't breathe a word, he just stared at the torn up men before him. One was crying like a baby, the other was twitching in his final moments. These were guys who he risked his life in the past. They gave him a safe haven when the world went to shit, and now Aaron just threw his safety away. Once the boss hears about how his nephew was murdered by Aaron, he will surely be executed, but he didn't care anymore.

Groans in the distance snapped Aaron out of his daze, he could see shambling corpses coming out of the woods nearby. Of course Jerry's screams were loud enough to alert every zombie nearby, motherfucker couldn't just die with dignity. At the same time, gunshots could be heard nearby, followed by a car swerving along the dirt road. Shit, it was Sherry and Monnie! If they see this mess, Aaron would be captured and brought back to the boss and Aaron didn't feel like dying yet.

He scanned the ground for the little lady who got him into this mess. He quickly spotted her slipping around in the blood; thank god, she was alive! Without hesitation, he plucked her up between his fingers. The Neera yelped and squirmed to break free but Aaron curled his fingers around her in a loose fist.

"We gotta go." Aaron spoke in a low tone. He didn't give her any time to answer before he ran towards the woods, zombies snarled and stumbled after the young man but he was too quick for them.

The tiny woman never stopped squirming in Aaron's hand. Every punch or kick sent a spark up his arm that reminded Aaron that this was not his mind playing tricks on him. There was an actual Neera in the palm of his hand and he just threw away his life to save her.

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