#very close to the face. sheepy

[iamineskew]

twas the hot one last time. this arc actually follows my plotline so i cant complain actually

@wimdywhimsy @elogaming @marycom15 @luckygetolover @canadianketchup @mostblissful @perceiving-all @evboverse-against-woke for modwatt in particular

Saw this going around twitter, looked like fun. What? I'm not procrastinating (I am, I really am)

Make this picrew of yourself

Take this uquiz

Post the results side-by-side. No pressure tags: @alypink, @revnah1406, @madefordvarka, @deadbranch, @welldonekhushi, @kaitaiga, @applbottmjeens, @froglights-and-pearls

[madaboutmunson]

Tag, You’re It

For the dailydrabble prompt 'Tag, You're It' by @strangerthingswritersguild

Ao3 Link

“No-no-no Sheepies. Eddie doesn’t do sports,” Eddie drawled lying back on the grassy hillside and pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.

There was a collective groan from the kids.

“It’s not even sports,” Dustin complained, “It’s more like...uh...like capturing a castle.”

“Capturing a castle?” Eddie scoffed, peering over the top of his sunglasses. “Aren’t you all a little old to be chasing one another around in a field, defending a tree stump?” He was aware of how hypocritical this was, only a few weekends ago he had been charging around a forest defending a tree stump of his own, albeit in character.

A frustrated blush rose to Mike’s face, “It’s not like that. It’s timed and-and there's a prize. Well two. And if you capture the stump you add a rule.”

“A prize?” Eddie yawned and leaned back on his hands on the grass.

“You’re not selling this,” Lucas huffed at Mike.

“Sinclair’s right you’re not. Be Gone!” Eddie sighed wearily and waved them away.

“Come on Eddie it’s embarrassing out there, the girls have Steve on their team,” Dustin whined.

“He’s only playing to spite me,” Mike grumbled folding his arms.

“He asked if we wanted some help, and genius Mike here laughed and said he had too much hairspray in to be on the boy’s team,” Lucas griped, “Now he’s kicking our ass, especially with his stupid rules.”

“Stupid rules?” Eddie asked with a deeper sigh. He was not interested in the game itself but he figured they weren’t moving, so he might as well get the gossip.

“Every time he gets the stump he makes up a rule so none of us can tag him,” Mike scowled.

“Huh? You can make up a rule that you can’t be tagged? Sounds like a glaring pit fall in the rules system here,” Eddie chuckled.

“No. He’ll say we can only tag him if we compliment him, or tell him he’s the best, or sing, or something,” Lucas added.

“Sounds pretty easy to me?” Eddie said looking between the three high-schoolers pausing for them, but its clear all the running had put their brains out to lunch, “Just say the thing.”

“NO WAY!” They yelled in unison.

“If you wanna win, sometimes you gotta swallow your pride guys. Now if you could stop casting your shadows so I can catch some rays, and take your putrid aromas with you, that would be splendid. Thanks.”

The three of them huddled up. Eddie could hear them muttering.

“What if we got you some beers?” Dustin asked, “Or a new D&D module?”

“Where are you pipsqueaks gonna get alcohol from?” Eddie laughed.

“The Christmas stash my mom has, she won’t notice anything is missing, Nancy, has taken a whole vodka bottle from it before,” Mike replied.

Eddie sat up, “I’m listening. Why do you wanna win so badly anyway?”

“At first it was for a bag of candy and who gets to choose the next film at the movies, but now we just really wanna beat Steve, he’s mocking us out there.”

Eddie peeked around the trio and true enough Steve Harrington looked pretty damn pleased with himself, and pretty damn cute. He was wearing very fitted athletic shorts and a snug white tank top that clung to his broad shoulders, as anyone in their right mind would being doing that close to Steve, sweat patches making it almost translucent in places, with his chest hair poking out the top. If that wasn't bad enough he was celebrating by flexing his muscles to mock the boys. Eddie took a deep inhale of breath, because he didn't realise he had been holding it.

“Alright, I’ll win it for you, but I don’t wanna hear a peep out you three begging me for shit the rest of the summer. Got it?”

They nodded in unison as Eddie got up, dusted off his denim cutoffs and tank top and pushed his sunglasses into his hair.

“Let’s take down a King,” Eddie grinned with malevolence.

Steve frowned as they approached the field again, “Munson? You joining us?”

“Yeah, thought I’d even the teams out. I heard the numbers were uneven?”

“And you’re the one to bring balance to the game?” Steve asked raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Eddie said confidently, with his hands on his hips.

A laugh bubbled out of Steve getting louder until he was doubled over.

Eddie’s lip twitched, but he keeps his cool, “Well are we playing or what?”

The teams spaced out, and Eddie flexed his fingers, and bolted for the stump as soon as Robin blew the whistle.

His team mates flanked him but each of them fell, tackled by Max, El, and Erica.

Just as Eddie was about to leap for the stump Harrington beats him to it.

“Freeze!” Robin shouted and Eddie sneered at being stuck in place, “Go ahead, Steve.”

Harrington tapped his chin thoughtfully, “You can only tag me if you recite me a poem.”

There was a collective groan, but Eddie grinned.

“Ok unfreeze,” Robin called out, and Eddie hopped up on the stump crowding Steve.

“Roses are red, Violets are blue, Sugar is sweet,” he said smoothly before looking over Steve, “But not as sweet as you big boy.”

Steve didn’t budge, looked confused at Eddie.

“Stump is Eddie’s,” Robin officiated.

“No that’s didn’t even rhyme properly!” Steve complained at Robin.

“Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme,” Eddie smirked.

“Yeah it does!” Steve frowned.

“Steve I made my ruling. Eddie gets the stump, and the longer you stand there whining the more time you waste. You’ve got less than five minutes left.”

Steve huffed down his nose and stomped back to his starting position on the field.

“Eddie, your rule?”

“Uh that’s easy you have to tell me I’m real pretty.” He smiled wide and batted his eyelashes, as the girls rolled their eyes.

Robin shook her head but blew the whistle anyway. The others charged towards the stump. Harrington was way too fast for anyone to get there before him, and he slapped Eddie’s leg with his hand.

“Tag, stump’s mine,” Steve said.

Eddie looked down on him with glee, “Uh-uh you gotta say it.”

Steve’s face was a picture, contorting with effort as he looked up at Eddie, “YOUREREALPRETTY” he said quickly and weirdly loudly.

Eddie tossed his hair with his hand, “I didn’t know you cared Harrington.” Steve blushed hard. He smiled toothily and hopped down from the stump sauntering back to his starting position with no complaint, he knew the clock was ticking.

“What are you doing?” Dustin said through gritted teeth, “You said you’d win.”

“Oh but I am,” Eddie smirked and gestured to a confused looking Steve and Robin tapping her watch at him.

“Ok! Ok. It’s hard to think of one. Alright! Geez! You have to say...uh...you have to say I’m the smartest man in the universe.” Steve said and gathered up the girls for a huddle and pointed at Eddie.

Robin blew the whistle, and Eddie nimbly dodged the flying tackles from the girls. They were fast, but Eddie had that feral energy coursing through him now. He got to the foot of the stump and spanked Steve’s backside. “Tag,” he said slyly and grabbed onto Steve’s hips to hoist himself up onto the stump.

He looked right into Steve’s eyes, “It’s my stump, smartest man in the universe,” punctuating his words with a wink.

Steve didn’t say anything, just stared, dropped off the stump, and went back to the starting position. Eddie knew he’d rattled him and the next thing Steve wouldn’t do. No way.

“Eddie! Rule?” Robin said a little exasperated

“A kiss,” Eddie said.

“No way there are kids here!” Robin said.

“I didn’t say they had to kiss me directly, they can blow me a kiss”

Robin turned to the kids. They were all yelling at her about the time and didn’t seem to care.

“Alright, but for the record, I’m against this” she reluctantly blew the whistle, and just like Eddie predicted Steve was thrown, he was tackling the boys hoping one of the girls would head for the stump but they wouldn’t go for it.

Eddie looked smug, striking a mock-heroic pose as he flexed his much smaller, toned muscles with theatrical pride, fully aware of the irony. He grinned to himself, already picturing how he was going to be sipping cocktails on the porch tonight. His thoughts were broken by an angry Erica screaming, “Just do it sailor man! Go over there and blow that long haired freak a kiss!”

“We’ve only got ten seconds left!” Max complained shoving Mike to the floor.

“Yes Steve I don’t want to watch the same movie all summer,” El said.

The boys understood the assignment and made kissy noises at Steve to mock him.

Eddie rocked on his heels with a huge smile as he watched the last few seconds tick down.

Until he felt a slap on his hand and he was confronted with a furious Steve

Eddie raised his eyebrows with confidence, “Well Howdy there Big b-“

And before he knew what was happening, he heard a collective gasp and “Steve’s stump! That’s time, come on nerds,” Robin added.

Eddie felt pressure on his lips, heat on the sides of his face. Steve was kissing him and was grabbing his face. He was rendered speechless. Steve smiled. Eddie suddenly felt hands on his shoulders as he was pushed off the stump and landed on his ass with a thud, almost as hard as his heart was hammering in his chest.

He could hear the boys complaining and the girls cheering. He shrugged at them in apology, heart pounding and face burning, trying to suppress the chaos spiralling in his chest from that kiss. He pulled down his sunglasses and quickly tried to walk back to his van, before he had a public crisis.

He was nearly at his sanctuary when he heard the rapid footsteps on the gravel path behind him, “Hey! Wait up!”

Eddie’s stomach dropped to the depths of the abyss, twisting with something hot and familiar. Dread, maybe, or anticipation. He couldn't tell. He could run, but that would look worse. He stopped and turned on his heel.

“You didn’t shake my hand,” Steve frowned a little out of breath.

“What?” was all Eddie could manage.

“We beat you, we're supposed to shake hands after. No hard feelings. Sportspersonship stuff.” Steve tried again, extending his hand towards Eddie.

“Oh, yeah. No hard feelings here. It was literally just tag, man. You’re good.” Eddie laughed it off, eager to get away.

“You won’t shake my hand? Is it because of what I did?” Steve asked and Eddie could hear the shame in his voice, and he couldn’t have that. Not with those sad puppy dog eyes looking so wounded at him.

“Look. I set the rule. You just wanted the win real bad,” Eddie said, trying to sound breezy, though his voice wavered just enough to betray the heat still lingering on his cheeks. "It’s not a problem,” Eddie said and extended his hand.

Steve's smile brightened as they shook on it but as Eddie tried to let go, he found Steve gripping his hand tightly.

“You okay, Steve?” he asked and found himself pulled flush with Steve’s chest, their faces an inch apart. As they collided he was met with the full Harrington experience. The beauty marks, the crooked smile, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the soft swoop of his hair, the heat from his body, and that scent of sun lotion, cologne and sweat. It's enough for him to forcefully replant his feet, so he didn't collapse with how overwhelmed he felt.

“I would have done it sooner without a crowd,” Steve said gently.

“Shook my hand?” Eddie asked nervously, confused but he knew what Steve was getting at.

“If you ever want one again just give me a call,” Steve smirked, leaving a frazzled Eddie standing slack-jawed as he jogged back to the others.

[hitlikehammers]

🍪That One Time Wayne Munson Got Gifted Some Homemade Cookies (by the man who’s also His Boy), Some Time to Listen to His Love-Drunk Nephew💍, and Some Opportunities to Answer Questions He Already Knows the Answers To (plus a bonus chance to celebrate Elizabeth Munson—God rest her soul) but Still Got NO COFFEE 🫠

☕️OR: 3/5 times Steve/Eddie talk to anyone but each other about their feelings (for each other), +1 (other time they turn around and talk to one another)

“Stevie made those.”

Wayne turns when he hears his nephew’s voice, the fancy Tupperware still in his hand.

“Figured as much,” Wayne shakes the box; “sure as hell wasn’t you.”

He expects Eddie to squawk, all self-righteous with not half-a-foot to shake on; but he hears Eddie come in just from his footsteps; how he leans against the doorway.

Wayne thinks Eddie’s comfortable way of being in this space is how this little house of theirs has been a place he’s been able to really think of as a home.

“I mean, he made me a batch, and you a batch,” Eddie leans his whole body toward where Wayne’s holding the Hershey-capped cookies: “those are all yours.”

Wayne looks down at the container in his hands, feels something complicated in his throat he don’t have a name for, but is a feeling he is finding himself coming close with more and more these days.

“He gonna be around later?” Wayne asks, gruffer than he means, or expects: but should have done.

Pesky thing in his throat, and all.

“If he gets off work at a decent time,” Eddie answers with a dramatic sigh before his face screws up in distaste as he adds; “inventory.”

Wayne hopes it goes quick; hopes everybody was kind and did rewind or…whatever inventory entails at a video store. He wants very much to thank the boy for his treats—and them being exclusively left for him—Eddie takes the Hershey-tops and leaves the cookie, always has. Grinds Wayne’s gears somethin’ awful.

And Wayne wouldn’t have pegged Harrington as a thoughtful boy, save maybe about the balance of his bank account, if he’d been asked to lodge an opinion on the kid sight-unseen; he admittedly hadn’t heard the name among those he sometimes caught of his Ed complaining about whatever hubbub had taken over the ‘preps and jocks’ in ‘the fiefdom of Hawkins High’.

To his shame as a good supportive listener, but the necessity of his sanity, Wayne mostly tuned out what came after those sorts of words when his nephew went off on one of his…opining spells.

Harrington was only a bit player, though, that Wayne was fairly sure of, simply because he only noticed that name on behalf of his daddy, out of all the names he took little to no notice of at all. And Wayne didn’t notice all that much.

He always perked up for it, and the overarching memory of whatever always followed was mild and tame in comparison to what he expected from the son and heir of that rat bastard.

Most recently, before all hell broke loose and Wayne came to know any better, Ed had been consumed with something of a conspiracy theory involving his new crop of ‘sheepies’ and his dungeon club being bamboozled by a…conniving Harrington seeking to corrupt them into, if Wayne understands correctly, the sins of having a reliable ride to the arcade, to the city for their little dragon supplies, and transportation safely home after dark in the winter.

Also being ‘normal’, which: Wayne knows his boy well enough to at least understand that is indeed an unacceptable offense.

But then all hell had broken loose, and the first time Wayne sees Steve Harrington up close for himself is at his boy’s bedside in clearly pilfered scrubs, which track with how he’s got an IV pole next to him where he sits—he was probably as much a gown-covered patient as Eddie is on the bed in front of them.

I’m sorry, are the first rough, tar-scraped words Wayne heard Harrington say, even if his eyes never leave Eddie to say them. Probably he suspects only family’s allowed in, and maybe already recognizes the sounds of the nurses, and knows that ain’t Wayne.

But those are these words Wayne hears for himself from Steve Harrington.

I’m sorry, followed close by: I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t save him, I got him here as quick as I could, I swear, I—

And that’s where Wayne had walked up and put a careful hand on this kid’s shoulder, even if he’d tended under the touch—or tried to, like his instinct was to go still but there was some deeper thing that trembled harder, unstoppable no matter how he tried—but Wayne set a hand on that shoulder, where the boy sat at his nephew’s bedside, while Wayne pointed out the important bit:

You did save ‘im, though, and Wayne had waited for the kid to look up, eyes rimmed red and expression just damn…shattered, but Wayne, as much as he’d been feeling much the same himself, he’d nodded toward the bed until the boy had followed the gaze to the very point Wayne had been trying to make, the why for how he’s only feeling shattered and nothing worse: his boy is there on that bed. His chest’s risin’ and falling. The monitor counting his heartbeats is steady.

This young man did save his boy. He tried, and he succeeded in the trying.

And that had been Wayne’s first real impression of Steve Harrington. Nothing like his daddy’s money. No nefarious plots, neither.

Hadn’t gone lost on him that nobody’d come to usher him back to wherever he’d come from with that gown and that line in his own arm, not for hours.

Wayne’s shaken free from his mulling when Eddie opens the fridge, grabs a beer—offers one to Wayne as if the man hadn’t just got up for the goddamn day and hadn’t even started his pot of coffee first.

Though, in honest fact: Eddie probably would grab a beer if he wanted one, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Crazy kid.

“He asked me to call and let him know if you want him to pick up pizza or chicken for dinner.”

It takes Wayne a second—maybe he’s the one who needs to shake off the sleep—but…nope. Nope, Eddie means Steve, there, because who else would come over with takeout, expecting the obvious that Wayne’s pretty damn sure Eddie also mentioned already:

“You just said,” Wayne starts and Eddie pops back out of the refrigerator, leans against the doors to push it closed.

“Robin said she’ll cover for him to bring it over, even if he can’t stay,” Eddie shrugs with a bright grin, and Wayne’s hit with the dregs of thinking back to that bright grin pulled tight under bandages, that spring up from a crouch to ransack the fridge stilled, battered, a question mark in the future of Wayne’s whole world—tries to shake it off before Eddie notices; “so that whatever you pick is here before you’re off.”

Wayne shouldn’t have worried about being noticed for dipping too close to the remnants of what it felt like to dance so long on the edges of grief in thinking on the hospital before—he’s teetering on the very opposite, here and now. Because Steve Harrington in theory really was the last person Wayne could imagine holding any positive feeling toward.

But as it stands: he don’t know what life looks like anymore without both his boys, safe and sound.

His eyes slide to one of those boys and notices how he’s staring off into nothing….except no. Not nothing. The counter where he’s got his hands propped now. And Wayne maybe’s only seeing from the side but…he doesn’t think he’s ever seen that kind of stare on his kid.

And his Eddie’s always been prone to just…staring off into space.

“What’s got you starin’ like that?” he asks, more suspiciously than concerned. Not least for the grin teasing the corner of Eddie’s mouth that Wayne can see.

“He gave me a ring.”

Eddie says it, voice low, never looking away from what Wayne presumes is that exact ring. He’s quietly entranced for a good near-on minute before he turns to Wayne, sobers a touch, but really only the slightest bit.

“Not like,” Eddie starts, then he pauses; bites his lips like it’s both incredibly simple and obvious and mighty complicated, all at once.

“I think he was raised too fancy not to ask you first,” Eddie lands on, spaces the words out slow; “for that.”

“Don’t need my permission,” Wayne half-grouses, more…not offended, but maybe closer to concerned—somewhere in the middle. That the boy would think to need his okay, but at the same crossing, to even second-guess he’s long since more’n had it, either way.

“He knows that,” Ed shoots back simply, definitive-like, which sets something more rustled-up than Wayne had expected it’d get back now to ease.

Before he tips Wayne’s world over in a whole other way, instead.

“He would want your blessing.”

The knowing glint in Eddie’s eyes is…Wayne’s not sure he’s had it turned back on him like that before. Knocks him a little crooked for the surprise of it before the words themselves knock him clear over—he’d never thought about being the person someone’d ask, like that.

Wouldn’t hesitate a second for Steve but…knowing the boy thinks well on you versus hearing, confident-like, that he’d seek out Wayne’s approval of the kinda feelings that have been clear from the early days and seem to grow more, and bigger, everything say, just…

Goddamn.

“But he said this was a temporary placeholder,” Eddie says it with such a smile in the words, his face all sunshine as he admires his left ring finger: always bare up to now, Wayne’s pretty sure; “I think he wants to wait until after I graduate.”

“Smart boy,” Wayne nods, gets back his footing a bit more; “gives you some extra motivation to cross the finish.”

And Eddie squawks his indignation right on schedule for it.

“Excuse you, I am doing very extremely passably in all my classes.”

“And I’m proud of ya for it,” Wayne nods, truthful as anything; “don’t mean a little extra nudge ain’t appreciated.”

That bit’s truthful too.

“Or a…colossal extra nudge,” Eddie concedes, tries to play petulant but his grin too big, too full to bite back any longer as he sighs, drapes himself a little more boneless over the precarious creak given by the kitchen chair he’s lounged in.

“He read my paper over, without bothering to tell mehe had a migraine coming on,” Eddie grouses, but he’s so goddamn fond about it through the worry; “sneaky bastard grabbed it up before I could get home to notice the signs it was imminent,” he whines a little more before gesturing out the window at the overcast sky: “not that I’d need to, with this fuckin’ weather.”

And Wayne will give Eddie that—scatterbrained and easily distracted as he’s always been? His biggest distraction is Steve. Steve’s whereabouts and safety, his well-being and caretaking—just Steve.

It’s…it’s heartwarming, Wayne can’t even think up a good way around that as the explanation that best suits.

“Stubborn,” is the explanation that Wayne vocalizes though, already figuring he’s roped into this conversation, and with an inkling where it could still turn?

He needs to save up his softest moments just in case.

“Gotta be why you’re so fond o’ each other,” Wayne hums like he’s reached some stunning realisation; “opposites attract sometimes as much as like finds like,” and Wayne always has reckoned these two maybe found the best of both in one near-world-ending go.

“Tried to tell me he just figured it wasn’t relevant,” Eddie rolls his eyes, brings it back to Steve as he usually tends to with most things, these days; “said it’s not like his eyes on my writing are worth anything anyway, because he’s, well,” and Ed straightens up there, expression hardening a little.

“He tried to call himself something offensive and also untrue, so I stopped him, but,” and Wayne knows well that argument. He’s taken to stopping it himself more’n once.

“Boy won’t accept his smarts are just as good as those rugrats you got,” Wayne says with conviction; “just look different, his do, s’all.”

Wayne doesn’t come from top-of-the-class stock, but he knows intelligence. In the field, in battle, in working hard with your hands, in honest everyday know-how. Recognizes it well in Steve, where Steve was probably only taught college meant smart, and anything other was just different, but mostly worthless.

Wayne really would enjoy a free shot at Steve’s daddy’s jaw, just once.

Cause he’d only need the once to break the sucker.

“Exactly,” Eddie sighs with an odd amount of enthusiasm, only person Wayne’s ever seen infuse a sigh with so much; “and all that, even without believing that he was willing to put himself in pain to make sure I didn’t miss a fuckin’ comma.”

Less than a minute’s-worth of quiet settles before Eddie’s back to talkin’—‘bout the same subject, of course, as per usual.

“He’s gonna help me with the van,” he announces, and that’s good to hear because that van…needs all the helping hands it can get, for as often as Eddie’s on Steve’s good graces for a ride these days.

Though Wayne don’t think Steve minds one lick.

“Next weekend, when he’s off,” Eddie’s elaborating, as if always his way, but Wayne feels…different with this. It’s as rambling as Eddie ever ends up being but, also it’s…it feels like it’s building up to something. Bolstering some other thing, though hell Wayne can suss out what. “He’s, like, really good with cars? Probably because of how much he pampers his—”

“Don’t gotta sell me on the boy, son,” Wayne finally cuts him off, “I know he’s good people,” which was a surprise he shouldn’t have made assumptions on without seeing for himself.

“And I know he’s good for you.”

And that, once he’d gotten clear of the assuming? That, Wayne had been sure on quick and with no doubts at all.

But his Ed still beams for it, red still high on his cheeks like every time he thinks of his boy is the brand new, first blush and everything.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks in that way that don’t require no answer.

But Wayne has one, for this, so he’s gonna give it anyway.

“That boy watches you like you walk on water,” Wayne scoffs, because he might’a known Eddie long enough to clock his heartsick ass from the get-go, but Steve wasn’t ever so hard to read, even at the start. By now, though?

“Looks at you like you shat the stars out and hung them for show.”

Ed looks up at the ceiling for a second, drags his hair to hide his face as he blushes full-on now and grins like anything. Wayne just enjoys the opportunity he never expected to get: seein’ his boy not just this happy, but so damn in love.

“He sees the best and worst in you, Ed, has seen youat your best and worst, and he still looks at you that way for all of it,” Wayne feels compelled to underscore the point, the uncommon magic in it all—here. After everything, sure, but: here, in all the world. “Not in spite of all of it, but for all of it,” and it’s true. Steve loves Eddie toe-to-toe, inside and out. Like Eddie loves—almost uncanny for the match of them.

“Kid loves the hell outta you,” Wayne comments definitive-like as he finally goes to get a mug from the cupboard—only to turn around and meet his boy’s too-surprised stare, those big eyes damn-near shocked at Wayne’s sureness, like he don’t have eyes.

“D’ya really think I’da been keepin’ my mouth shut if I didn’t think he was right for you, loved you right?” Wayne asks, which: it’s mostly meant for the way Wayne specifically makes his opinions known. Which are less about opening his mouth and more about certain combinations to grunting and narrowing his eyes—he ain’t foolish to his own peculiarities.

But this doesn’t qualify for any of that, so.

“World’s not always done right by you,” Wayne lets himself say a little softer, a little more…care-true around the vulnerable things. Ain’t ever been his strong suit but: for Eddie.

And for Steve.

“But for all it’s done wrong?” Wayne works a pointed brow. “I’m fairly sure puttin’ the two o’ you together’s something like it trying to make amends.”

Eddie smiles at that, the small kind he does when his heart’s in it most, but then he looks…earnest in a soft, almost-sober way before he says, dead serious:

“It was worth it.”

Wayne stills at the words—not because he’s that surprised, more just that…hearing ‘em out loud hits different.

Takes him back to those early first days where it was all by-the-hour, in God’s hands someone in the waiting room tried comforting him before he was allowed by Eddie’s bedside—cold comfort, that, when Wayne didn’t know he believed in those hands at all.

Just don’t tell his Ma, might be what sends her to her grave.

“I know you don’t agree,” Eddie sighs, but that’s…

“I didn’t say that.”

Eddie levels him with a doubtful kind of stare.

“Your face speaks for itself, old man.”

Wayne takes his time, sucks his lips: ain’t that simple. And he wants to try and get some words to fit right, when he’s not sure there are any that fit the bill—sure ain’t sure he’s the one to find them.

But for his boy? He’ll damn well try.

“I think you gotta make a lot of assumptions, to get t’that conclusion,” Wayne thinks through out loud—the idea that nearly losing his Ed was worth anything is unthinkable, but…Wayne ain’t blind, yeah? He sees all the signs of Eddie’s heart in this.

Sees Steve’s, too.

“But it’s not likely you’d have crossed paths like you did,” Wayne nods slow; “better part of a year o’ him ferrying those kids from your club and,” Wayne gives a pfft to underscore his point:

“Nothin’.”

So maybe it wouldn’t have needed to be so drastic, so close to heartbreaking, to get his boy next to the man he loved so deeply. But…history weren’t exactly on the side of that argument.

Heartbreaking as that fact was on its own.

“That poor girl, that would have happened either way.”

Eddie’s expression drops and Wayne hates that but: heartbreaking as it, too, was?

There’s truth to it. Wayne knows enough—and onlyenough—of the cursedness of this town, more of how it’s hurt people he cares about.

“Sometimes my worst nightmares don’t take me to the hospital, but a prison cell.”

Wayne’s voice is rougher than he wants. Eddie’s probably more still, and frozen quick with it? Than hewants.

At least not to be seen for it but: it still cuts. Like as much, it always will.

“I don’t know how I could have protected you,” Wayne admit a truth he holds with shame in his chest, much as he knows—or else, Hopper’s told him as often from the source, as much as Steve and Eddie have made clear in their own ways dancing around a truth Wayne bristles, but understand he’ll never know the whole of. “I would have died tryin’, but even if it was just the police, I,” he shakes his head, sighs out slow; “and the fuckin’ people of this town,” and that’s where he’s made more of anger than guilt because even now: this fuckin’ town.

“Ain’t words for how grateful I am to him, bringin’ you back,” Wayne says because it’s where his opinion of Steve Harrington truly started;

“But he’s like as my own now, for how he’s stayed,” and Wayne don’t speak words like those idly. Or lightly.

And Eddie knows it.

But Wayne knows in kind that his words ain’t no gate being lifted. Weren’t no way of convincing Eddie to say the words he follows with next. No: the words that follow?

Those were ones Eddie’s been sittin’ on. Holding close in his chest long enough that Wayne can hear the soul o’ him colorin’ every goddamn letter:

“I want Mom’s ring.”

And there it is. The thing he was maybe suspecting was coming—finally; what his softer feelings needing saving up for.

“What, no,” Eddie asks when Wayne doesn’t reply right away, less shaking with anything like hesitance, more like squaring up in case he needs to be defiant, needs to defend the love he’s damn well vibrating with; “no nothing?”

And see: Wayne’s been keeping Eddie’s mama’s ring safe since she passed—knew a boy that young couldn’t understand why it mattered, and then when he did grow old enough, Eddie’s asked him to keep hold of it. Don’t let me be stupid with it, Wayne remembers it clear as day, when they both knew that instruction was pointed less at the empty field of possible proposals to be made for Ed in Hawkins and far more at the possible temptation to pawn it, for rent or groceries, in the best of cases. And Wayne would rather have starved than lost this piece of Elizabeth, especially when Eddie has so few after Al’s endless string of idiocy, of cruelties and straight-said fuckups, Wayne can’t call ‘em less than they are.

So Wayne had kept hold of the ring.

And had got it shined up nice in a brand new pouch and everything, the first night he found Eddie asleep on Steve’s chest on the sofa, T.V. still on to static, clinging to him as hard as Steve was clinging back with one hand, stretched protective almost over Eddie’s chest, curling over and again ‘round his hair with the other, idle-honest affection even in his sleep.

It hadn’t been the first sign. Or the second. Or the hundredth. But it had been how Wayne had been sure of them, for whatever his own opinion in it counted for at all—again, they don’t need his permission to love.

But that was when his blessing went from full-throated to full-chested, whole-hearted. When Steve had slid from family, to his boy, too.

“Boy,” Wayne meets his other boy with a bit of pu-upon indignation of his own, learned from the master of it sat gaping like a fish before him, and Wayne ultimately can’t hold onto it when the smirk’s just too hard to fight; “you think I ain’t had that at the ready for months? Waiting on you to ask,” he puts his thoughts into words for sharing, which is always a task for him but is getting easier, with Ed. With Steve in a new way, for the chord it struck in him to get to know that boy, as under-appreciated and worn down on the inside as he’d been—save for how he’d loved Eddie brighter than the sun through all of it.

“He’s family already, Ed, s’far as I’m concerned.”

And Eddie closes his mouth, and his eyes look too sparkly, so Wayne clears his throat and looks away to let him…let those tears free or not, and make that decision for himself without an audience.

“Found a guy at the plant, knows someone who can try to resize it, though probably safer to reset it on another band, but,” Wayne folds his hands and locks the fingers, tapping them on his thighs in thought, but also with meaning:

“Bert thinks you could cut the original, somehow embed it inside something bigger, more like yours.” He points to Eddie’s collection, even his latest placeholder—as thick and right for his boy as it could possibly be.

As Steve would obviously know, and make damn sure if.

“No matter,” Wayne says, peeks to see if Eddie’s decided whether he needs some extra space with his feelings, closer to the surface now than they’d ever dared to be before—the doctors warned it could happen after he was discharged but Wayne knows it’s not that. It’s being soft-hearted and having something like what he’s found, to want his mama’s ring; “however you want it done,” and Wayne sees Eddie’s just blinking, red-rimmed but wiped mostly dry.

“However he wants it, to be honest,” Eddie’s breath in is a shaky thing, but it’s true, it’s a thing Wayne can recognize as devotion without trying even to look. “I just want him to have every piece of me he can, y’know? All of me,” and his voice cracks, and now Eddie’s the one who’s clearing his throat to get some footing: “everything I can, every way I can.”

And then he looks up properly, and meets Wayne’s eyes, means every single word when he says the most important part, the most honest thing—the most obvious truth:

“He’s my heart, y’know?”

And the only thing Wayne can think is: he’s found a good one, Lizzie, you’d be so proud of your boy.

So proud of this boy, for your boy.

“And he already graduated, so,” Eddie picks at his nails, the way he does when he makes a smart ass side comment he wants to flag to Wayne that he’s making, but smooth-like. Wayne might be old, now, but he remembers what counted for smooth—and this was never it; “nothing I need to hold it back for as motivation.”

Wayne goes ahead let’s a snort loose to at least acknowledge Ed’s poor attempt, score he shoots for the core of the matter:

“Boy,” he shakes his head with a loose grin, the kind that’s ready to grow as and when needed: “maybe you’ve got yourself a mighty fine placeholder ring,” he nods down to Eddie’s hand and hell, but Eddie’s already admiring the thing at the slightest suggestion, if’n he ever entirely stopped at all.

“But he was never ‘round here with nothing but his whole heart for you,” Wayne says, one of the surest things he knows in this world.

“Almost as obvious as you with it,” he lets himself smirk a little for how Eddie goes a little red, but shineswith it so goddamn bright.

S’just another sure thing Wayne knows.

“Lemme go get you that ring,” Wayne gets to his feet and heads further past the table, waits out Eddie’s confusion, and the inevitable ask:

“You keep it in the kitchen?”

And so what if he did? Wayne lets Eddie dog his steps all the way in before he flips the Mr. Coffee on—fucking finally.

“I ain’t had my coffee yet,” Wayne turns, raises a daring, of teasing kind of brow Eddie’s way as he goes to grab the mug he’s fetched before, lest it feel abandoned; “and my son-in-law-to-be baked me blossoms,” he pops open the Tupperware and breathes in the peanut butter deep; maybe a little extra dramatic because he’s actually pretty tickled to be able to say that for his own self: son-in-law-to-be.

Not that Steve wasn’t already family, but, y’know. Something in the words, out loud.

But still:

“I’m allowed a detour.”

The ring’s waited this long, for something that’s been true all this time already. It can stand a cup-o-joe and some homemade cookies with risk of gettin’ abandonment issues.

1: Gareth // 2: Mrs. Harrington // 3: Wayne // 4: Chrissy // 5: ??? // +1: ???

☕️

✨also on ao3

💫for @penny00dreadful—happiest of happy birthdays, my lovely 🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @eternal-sunflowers @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit, weird as it is: ME ☕️🍪

[blackjackkent]

Brief detour to talk about all of Kled's dialogue, because after looking through his parsed file, I kind of want to give him a hug. 😢

(This is not an exhaustive list of his lines (and tbh I'm not sure all of them are even accessible in game; the different variables are all overlapping), but just a collection of interesting ones I found. :D)

As usual, devnotes in pink.

-----

(while Mayrina is still in sheep form) KLED: Is Lady Mayrina all right? Can Kled help? Kled wants Lady Mayrina to be all better. (eager and genuine)

PLAYER: Have you seen a doll around here? KLED: You - you saw the doll too? It was in the next room - staring. But when Kled looked back, it was gone. (terrified) (or) PLAYER: She's just a sheep - she'll be fine. KLED: A hag turned Kled into a rat. Had her redcaps give chase - for hours. (horrified, reliving the memory) Mayrina is not fine - not even a little. Fix her - please. (desperate for mayrina not to suffer the same fate) (or) PLAYER: Any idea how to remove the hex? KLED: No - Kled isn't good at hag magic. Can't help sweet Lady Mayrina. (annoyed at himself, he wants to help mayrina desperately and feels useless) (or) PLAYER: You think Mayrina is sweet? I found her more sour, to be honest. KLED: Really? Then maybe it is only Kled she is sweet to... (pleased; he has a crush on Mayrina) (or) PLAYER: You and Mayrina sound close. KLED: Friends only. Lady Mayrina is too pretty and kind for the likes of Kled. (absolutely has a crush on mayrina) But if you can't stop the hex, Kled will take care of her. Feeding, shearing, scratching behind her ears - Kled will do his best. (he loves mayrina, sheep form or not, and will do anything he can to take care of her) (or) PLAYER: You should leave while you still can. KLED: Before Kled met Lady Mayrina, Kled never left the house. But Lady Mayrina helped him. Kled is braver now, and doesn't leave friends behind - not ever.

(subsequently) KLED: Please help Lady Mayrina. She's nice and kind and sweet to Kled - to, uh, everyone. (has a crush on mayrina and is trying (and failing) to hide it)

-----

(if Mayrina killed) KLED: The hag - the hag killed sweet Mayrina. Sent the redcap! What does Kled do?! (has a phobia of redcaps. Terrified and panicked (the dragon born, his friend, just revealed himself to be working for ethel)

-----

(after the redcap fight if Mayrina still alive) KLED: Redcaps. Rats. Hag. (Freaking out, full on anxiety spiral after a fight with a red cap) Lady - Lady Maryina. Upstairs. Please - please check. Oh, gods. (pulling out long enough to direct the player and then burying face in hands and freaking out again)

(subsequently) KLED: The redcap can't hurt Kled - it can't hurt Kled. (trying desperately to calm down (not working) (or) KLED: Kled won't let any more redcaps hurt Lady Mayrina - promise. (sincere, determined)

-----

(after redcap fight and Mayrina cured of sheepiness) KLED: The dragonborn was Kled's friend. Why - why would he hurt Lady Mayrina? (confused, upset, doesn't quite understand what happened (dragonborn was secretly a redcap and working for the hag))

PLAYER: He was only pretending to be her friend - it was all a ploy. KLED: But Lady Maryina was kind to him - to us! Anyone who hurts Lady Mayrina is Kled's enemy. But anyone who helps her is Kled's friend - thank you. (or) PLAYER: Mayrina can be very annoying. KLED: No! She is sweet, and kind, and beautiful - oh. You made a joke, yes? Yes - you saved Lady Mayrina, so you are nice. (or) PLAYER: You need to do a better job protecting Mayrina. KLED: Redcaps hurt Kled a long time ago. When Kled sees them, he thinks of things - bad things. But Kled will be brave next time. Thank you, for saving Lady Mayrina.

-----

(after Ethel defeated) KLED: Kled feels strange - light. Happy. (calmer and more at peacer than we've ever seen kled) The hag is dead, isn't she? Tell Kled the truth.

PLAYER: How did you know? KLED: Because for the first time in years, Kled doesn't feel scared. (a wonderous smile, he hasn't known such peace in years) (or) PLAYER: Yes - finally. KLED: Hope - it is in Kled's heart. It feels warm and gentle. (maybe touching his heart with a soft, serene smile) KLED: (if Mayrina dead) Kled only wishes Mayrina could feel it too. (sad smile) KLED: Thank you - thank you so much. You are Kled's best friend, for the rest of your life - Kled promises! (sincere and grateful)

[keelt9]

Chapter 13

Masterlist

It took Max’s manager and me around 10 minutes to get him into the jet, by the time we arrived at the airfield it was supposed they must be in Milton Keynes.

I lied to him, telling him I was fine, just maybe a little bit dizzy; he tried to insisted he wanted to wait for Mika or Thomas came to pick me but I calm him down saying <I will be fine.>

Mika and Thomas arrived 30 minutes later, found me with Caleb who insisted he didn’t want to leave alone until I was fine. 

Mika was calm until Caleb mentioned the part of leaving me alone, causing a dry laugh from her, asking if his own words didn’t taste like vinegar.

Max called me right away as they landed, I assured him I was fine, just I got dizzy for the long weeks and the moved weekend, but I was totally fine.

Mika and Thomas didn’t mention a word to anyone about when we met Caleb; but try to persuade me at least I should tell Max who is Caleb, not because he must know everything about my past, just because as Mika said, if that dude is someone who hurt you that much I like to know.

Still I can’t, not now.

Singapore was a success, even for Lewis who reached third place. 

Max called me that night to tell me all in the paddock started to tease him about us, and he was fighting for nor saying a word, but Checo’s facial expression didn’t help him at all.

“I also received a couple of messages.” Alexa texted me Thursday night about a couple of photos of me and “someone” who looked like Max in Newport beach. 

Max smiles as he’s finishing his breakfast. “Alexandra.” 

“How do you know?” I almost hit the table in the living room.

“Charles has been very curious too.” He said drinking what I bet is his first redbull of the day. “Are you alone already?”

My parents left early for an old friend's party in Ireland, leaving me with the confidence that I'll be alone one day, because Max will come from me Tuesday afternoon to travel to Japan.

“Yes, it’s been a long Monday.” I laid down on the couch. “I never imagine how many permissions you need.”

All these days I have been in endless reunions and paperwork for the shelter, knowing I’m not going to be around, I have to make a huge progress before going to Japan. 

“And this is starting to frustrate me.” I raise my arm with the cast. 

Max realizes something. “I haven’t signed it, first thing I’ll do tomorrow.”

I didn’t realize I have a sheepy face until Max mentioned it. “Go to sleep, I'll see you tomorrow, ok?”

I nod getting up the stairs. “Have a safe flight.”

“Sleep well.” He smiles while drinking his Red Bull, hanging out.

Mornings are officially cold, but the sun keeps you warm as the few sunlights touch your skin. I finished my first snack of the day, sending the last information for one of the companies who will work with us when I hear wheels on the gravel, Max is here.

I close my laptop running to the main door, excited to see him after one week, still one I opened the door, Max isn’t there.

One more time, my blood runs cold.

“Hanna was right.” Caleb is standing at the door with his hands on the pocket of his jacket smiling. 

I curse low, I hate to admit it but Hanna keeps knowing some things about me. 

“Can we talk?” I close the door behind me. “I guess your parents are inside, I get it.”

Caleb waits a couple of seconds but simply seeing him smiling looking so fresh is making my anger increase.

“I just want to come and make sure you’re alright, you seem quite impressed and…” 

“You never worry about me.” I grip the cast trying to contain me. “It’s stupid you pretend now.”

Caleb got down his head. “Listen Y/N, things kind of mess up, but…”

“Mess up?” I scoff. “You better get out of here.” The tears on my eyes make everything blurry.

“I don’t cause you so much damage. Jeez Y/N, you seem happy in a new relationship, that’s a good sign.”

I couldn’t hold back, the next thing I realized was that my hand was hitting his cheek. “Go.”

“I deserved that, I know, I came here for…” Like he stumbles with his own feets he goes backwards, it was until Max appeared behind him pulling him for the jacket I blink and my blurry vision became clear.

“She told you to go.” Caleb scoffs but I know he won’t take a step back.

“Don’t get involved in this, this is between her and me.” I see Max’s face switch as he caresses my face, the leath eyes on him. 

“Get fuck out of here.” I grip Max's arm seeing he's about to push him, he turns around grabbing my hand.

“She told you who I am?” I feel my stomach flipp and I hiss. Caleb saw my eyes and he knew it. “You don’t tell him.”

“Enough, go.” Max grabs him by the jacket pushing him to his car.

“Max!” I try to grip his arm back, Max is so angry that he didn't even listen to me.

“I WAS HER FIANCE, IDIOT!” Max shutter for a minute but he opens the door of his car, pushing him. 

I can’t move, I've been holding my breath but all I do is sit on the stairs. 

Max grip the door. “Go, before I call the police.” 

Caleb holds his serious face and bluffs from the last time. “You can thank me later.”

I hide my face between my legs and my arms, trembling, feeling my world is collapsing one more time. 

“Hey, hey, can you look at me?” When Max sees I don’t move he kneels in front of me and hugs me, that was all I needed to break in tears.

No matter if all the walls are crumbling down, there are some wounds behind them, and sometimes those wounds are so easy to bleed like the first time. 

I push him away, I stand pushing him, one more time. “Leave me alone.” I clean my face but tears are impossible to stop.

“Y/N.” He grips my hand on his chest. 

“You don’t hear me?” I take my hand off his chest. “Leave me alone.” I said between grip teeths. 

I ran back to the door opened by closing it with a big thud, unable to move. I slip until the ground, my chest hurts, my breath is fast and my body is trembling. 

“Can you please…” Max said. “Please don't shut me down.” 

I cover my mouth for he won’t hear me. “Y/N.”

I don’t know how much time has passed until I hear another voice behind the door, but my fear fades away when I recognize Thomas' voice.

“Y/N, it’s me, can you please open it?” Thomas knocked softly.

“Tell him… Tell him to go.” My voice broke in every word.

“Y/N..” Thomas said in a begging tone.

I clean my face. “He goes or both of you.” 

I don’t want to distinguish what they said, just a loud <Fuck> from Max before the loud sound of wheels on the gravel, let me know is ok come out.

Just in that moment I opened, throwing myself in Thomas' arms crying like I did years ago.

It took me  a lot of time to calm down, but when I got it, I called Lewis to explain it; want it or not, Max will ask him when they meet in Japan. He cursed low and I could hear the anger as he asked me if I would be fine being alone this weekend.

“I’ll go Mika’s house.” It’s late at night and Mika and Thomas are there helping me, in all. 

“Call Nicola in case…” I heard someone calling for him, he’s already in Japan and for them it’s early morning.

“Let’s talk when you come here, ok?” Lewis breathes out. “Ple…”

“I won’t say anything, don’t worry. Try to rest, I’ll see you as soon as I can.” I heard he asked for another minute. “Love you.”

“Bye Lew.” 

I hang out but my eyes are lost in the big trees. “Y/N, ready?” 

Mika is under the frame door with my purse as Thomas walks with my bags in his hand. 

They waited for days for me to speak about it. Mom and dad called me when they didn't see any show for me being in the paddock so I told them what happened, even when they tried to remain calm I know they were angry too.

The farm is gone now, a big land is in front of my eyes with machinery all over the place; anyone there, after all it is Saturday morning..

“I’m terrified.” Thomas lifts his eyes from the blueprints. 

All these days I isolate myself in Newport, my house is in the last touches and the shelter in the first phases. 

Thomas forgot the papers we’ll need this Monday, after leaving Mika in the hospital we drove here.

“Y/N.” Thomas whispered. “It’s not easy, it’s ok to…”

“No it is not, I hurt him, I know.” I clear my throat. “But, I’m trying to protect him from all the shit.”

“Y/N!” Thomas spat leaving the pen on the table. “Don’t say that.”

“Do you even imagine what would happen if someone saw Max Verstappen pulling a guy into his car as a girl is crying on the floor?” Thomas bluffs but he knows as me that would be a pretty big scandale. “I’m scared that he probably thinks I’m a playmaker.”

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times trying to put his word in order. “A guy like Max didn’t care that much, besides he never thought that of you. I talked with him and believed Y/N the only thing it was in his mind at that moment was to protect you.” 

Thomas grabs the papers and walks to the exit of the small tent where he works on the week. “He just want to make sure you’re safe.”

I see the leaves on the ground in brown, orange and yellow colors. “I know you’re not ready to tell him and like Mika said it’s not because he must know your past, it's just because if someone hurt you, I bet he would like to know.”

“I’ll drag too many people to this mess.” I feel a knot on my throat as I see my shoes playing with the ground.

“I’m going to correct you.” Thomas jostled me softly. “YOU have so many people you trust and know we care about you, and the same people you know you can lean on.” 

Imagines of my family, friends and new friends that appear in my life, giving me a hug when I need it, hearing me all the time, even just calling to ask if I already eat, flow my mind, as a smile appears on my face. 

“Is it bad that you lean on someone new?” I see Thomas and raise his shoulders. “After all, in these… whoa almost a year, that’s what you both been doing right?” 

I chuckle letting Max’s memories clear my mind. I see my phone, it’s not late.

“Give me a couple of minutes.” Thomas smiles and nods.

“I’ll wait in the car.” I waited until I heard the sound of the door to dial his number. 

I don’t wait too long until the third beep Max picks up, of course he won’t let me speak first.

“Are you ok?” I scrunch my nose trying to contain my tears. “Y/N…”

“Forgive me. I didn’t push you away, it's just, it was so much in that moment. I’ll tell you what you have to know, I swear but not now.” I moved side to side of the tent.

“Don’t bite your cheeks.” I giggle releasing I biting the inside of my cheeks. “You’ll hurt yourself.” 

“Max…” 

“All I care is that you are ok.” I heard the sound of him moving on the bed. 

“I am now, hearing you, I’m better now.” I closed my eyes like he could see me.

“Don’t do this to me schat, no when you’re far away.” Max complains. “And all I want to do is kiss you and hug you right now.”

I cover my face feeling a tear slip. “Let's find each other when the triple heads of Asia end, ok?” Max growls. “Is it so much your race thinking that is making me so happy?”

“I’ll do more than that, count with that.” I heard someone knock on his door. 

“I’ll leave you.” Max said goodbye but I added one last thing. “Max, I’m holding tight, really tight.”

“That’s all you have to do.”

The race was exceptional, Max won with a comfy difference of 2-3 seconds with Charles, but I never expected what would happen in the press conference.

Max posted photos of the race on the top of the podium, in the last slide was a photo we took when we were in Liverpool watching the sunrise. 

Not a simple photo of the sunrise; his face illuminated for the sun in orange colors as I’m hugging him but my face isn’t appearing in the frame, just my hair and my arm around his neck.

>Keeping her busy with winns.

In one of the many comments Max had about if there is a chance of tha girl in the picture could be me, I replay. 

> 👀

That unleashed an endless week of rumors and even a timeline of my relationship with Max started to spread. In the time line are photos that I didn't even know when or were taken.

Even Lewis helps to increase the rumors by posting a story of me laying on the couch of his house with the small description of…

>Keeping an eye on her. 

Which Mercedes complement with.

>Keeping a lot of eyes on her.

Red Bull can't stay behind, answering Mercedes.

>When you are busy we can keep an eye on her too. 😉

By the time the GP of China ends, Max was questioned about his position on the rumors.

“Max, what can you say about the things that are happening around you and Lewis' little sister?” Max keeps his face neutral.

“Y/N is an amazing person, but I'm afraid Lewis lost from his view a couple of times.” A big smile with pressed lips appeared on his face.

Lewis regrets he didn't have the chance to reply to something, but his tour with the reporters ended.

“We didn't want a soft lunch, right?” Max said as he arrived to apartment in Monaco.

“Not after a race!” I laugh rolling my eyes.

“Where are you? It's pretty dark. I can barely see you.” He said searching for his keys in his bag.

I opened his door jumping on him, causing him to act fast grabbing his phone and me at the same time. “In your house.”

Max curses but holds me tight against him.

“Oh my God.” He splits so he can see my face. “Hi.”

I scrunch my nose, jumping was a bad idea because my casted arm hurts.

“Reckless girl.” He observed my arm. “Are you ok? You shouldn't be jumping around, you know there is  a percentage of people who can aggravate a fracture even being with a cast.”

I roll my eyes. “So much blah blah blah.”

I pull him by his shirt for kissing him so slowly but passionately, with just one intention, leaving him breathless.

I get it because the lack of hair was the only thing that made us separate.

“I miss you.” I whisper stick to his lips. “I'm sorry, I know…”

We're so lost in the moment that he just pressed his lips against mine one more time.

“Welcome to your home.” I whisper following for a hug, both of his arms across my back.

“This couldn’t feel more like home.” He hid his face on my neck.

I smile but I remember what I have inside of his home. “Oh, let’s get inside.” 

I split as I pull him inside of his apartment but I stop him in his hallway. “No, no, no.” I put my right hand on his face. “Don’t see.”

Max has to walk with his knees a little bit folded and in an uncomfortable position, but still he smiles walking in a dark apartment.

We reached his living room, where on the small table a cheesecake with a little candle waits for him.

“Ta da!” I take my hand of his eyes, my eyes stuck on his face all the time. His face lights up too.

“Oh my god!” He blinks and sees me, all my words were cut for a kiss. “This is amazing, thank you so much.” 

“Blow it! Or you will have melted a candle on that.” Max giggles and blows the candle as I light on. 

After a detailed look he realized the shape of the candles. “This is Jimmy and Sassy. Amazing, totally amazing.” 

“Even though I like to take the credit for this, I can’t.” We sat down on his carpet. “I asked Alexa about a place for the cheesecake and the candles, Emma knows a place in London.”

“Can I?” Max points to the cheesecake for taking a piece. 

I giggle. “All yours.” I don’t have to tell him twice for he takes a small portion of melting at the first bite. “That good, huh?”

Max nods offering me a bite which I gladly take, yes, so good. 

Watching him enjoying the dessert makes my heart squeeze, just thinking how worried and mad he could be.

“I’m sorry.” I said playing with the carpet. “I promise I won’t do it again but I was scared.” 

Max grabs my hands and turns around facing me. “Don’t say that again. I’ll wait, if you think it is something you should tell me, I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

“You know, it is hard imagining a life without you.” It’s the only thing that I have clear on my mind, the only thing I have for certain right now lost in his eyes. 

Max blinks, I grab his face between my hands, smiling at him. “It's impossible for me too.” Max chuckles pulling me as I sit on his lap, both of my things at the side of his legs.  

I surrounded his neck with my arms. “You're one of a kind Verstappen.” Max laughs, kissing me. 

“Emilian for you, too many people call me that.” I laughed too nodding. “Thanks for be home.”

I hugged him tighter, he’s right, this couldn’t feel more like home.

[dr-vintura-o-serif]

Smiling/Nightmare Critter OCs

I’ve decided that I’ll draw some of the Smiling/Nightmare Critter OCs in my free time, along with them interacting with the other Smiling/Nightmare Critters.

I’ll list the characters’ names in the poll below, with descriptions of each character below the poll.

Sleepy Sheepy

Sleepy was a simply a rough draft concept to replace Catnap after the scandal, but was scrapped shortly after.

Their base design was then used to create Baba Chops, by inverting the colors & changing the scent.

Their appearance was a sheep with thick white wool & black limbs, along with tan hooves & horns. They wore a cloud shaped pendant with 3 Zs in it, & would’ve had German Chamomile as their scent.

Their personality wasn’t completely developed yet, but was said to have a drowsy demeanor but was a good listener & would’ve given good advice to the Smiling Critters.

Mary Little

Mary was created from the scrapped concept of Sleepy, & was a 1991 limited edition toy to celebrate the 3-year anniversary of the Smiling Critters.

Her appearance is a lamb with short white wool & limbs, & black hooves. She wears a bell shaped pendant, & has Roman Chamomile as her scent.

Her personality is described has innocent, overly curious, & a bit naive & gullible. She views everyone has her friend & wants everyone to get along.

She’ll often try to invite the Nightmare Critters to join in the Smiling Critters’ games to feel included, but this would lead to some disagreements & tension between the Smiling/Nightmare Critters.

Skunky Funk

Skunky was a scrapped/recalled toy that was created for the Nightmare Critters toy line. She would’ve been a counterpart to Sleepy.

Her appearance is a skunk with dark blue-violet fur with white stripes. She wore a housefly shaped pendant, & has Ambergris as her scent.

Her scent was actually the reason for her being recalled, complained that it was too pungent & smelled “gross”.

Her personality is described has moody, reserved & snippy. She prefers to be alone, secretly worried that the other Nightmare Critters don’t like her. She’s very condescending towards others & very self-deprecating towards herself.

Liar-Lier

Liar-Lier was created as a counterpart for Mary Little, & was released shortly after Mary as a limited edition toy as well.

His appearance is an opossum with dark brown fur, cream face & belly fur, & peach hand, feet & tail. He wears a crossed finger shaped pendant, & has Patchouli as his scent.

He’s personality is described to be mischievous, sarcastic, & a bit of a prankster. He’s known to lie a lot to cause fights between both the Smiling Critters & even the Nightmare Critters. He loves drama.

He’s close friends with Rabie Baby, who tells him the latest gossip which he’ll then exaggerate to start fights. If he’s caught, he’ll “play dead” to startle & freak out the Smiling Critters, this trick doesn’t that well with most of the other Nightmare Critters.

[theelvenhaven]

Comforting Glorfindel

Having an Anxiety Attack

Request: If there's still headcanon slots available and one of these ideas strikes you: maybe how Glorfindel and/or Penlod would react to reader having an anxiety flair up where their normal coping mechanisms aren't working and they need extra help (platonic or romantic)? Or if that doesn't strike you, maybe vice versa where they need help from reader? I haven't been on Tumblr recently so I'm about to scroll through your blog and play catch up. Looking forward to reading what I've missed/what's coming up! I hope you're well ❤️

A/N: I decided to do this vice versa, and comfort one of our beloveds for a change. So I hope you enjoy! <;3

*****

♕ Glorfindel isn't afraid of his feelings, but he does struggle with showing his most vulnerable emotions with anyone, especially when it makes him feels so weak.

♕ Not to mention Glorfindel doesn't want to worry you about what the toll of war has taken out from him.

♕ Glorfindel will often try and put on a stronger persona in an effort to try and soothe any concerns that you may have about him.

♕ But that doesn't mean that despite all his best efforts that anxiety attacks don't creep up on him.

♕ Usually he can feel when they're about to happen, and he is quick to dismiss himself from the public place if he can.

♕ Even if you try to press if he's okay, he will only assure you he is as he hurries away.

♕ Following him out is the only way you're going to come face to face with the fact that he's having a panic attack.

♕ At first Glorfindel doesn't realize that you've followed him out, so he begins to loosen his collar and breathe shakily and heavily, his hands starting to shake and feeling like he can't breathe.

♕ By the time he turns to see if he's alone, it's too late to hide his symptoms from you, that you recognize immediately for what it is.

♕ Glorfindel is used to having deal with these himself, and he doesn't have the best coping skills, so at first he tries to thwart you from helping him.

♕ But if you persist, albeit, gently Glorfindel gives in as you reach for his hands and gently help him sit on the ground.

♕ You sit in between his legs as he cries and shakes, trying to catch his breath, helping him take slow deep breaths guiding him through it.

♕ At first Glorfindel is a bit hesitant, but your voice and the feel of your hands in his is just so soothing and he starts to listen to what you're saying.

♕ Especially as you reassure him he's safe, and that everything's going to be okay.

♕ IF anything Glorfindel is also panicking that you're going to be mad at him for having kept something like this from you and he profusely apologizes between the tears and his shaky breathing.

♕ Reassuring him calmly that it's okay, and that you're far from mad at him helps ease the anxiety, he is very receptive to your words as he trusts you implicitly.

♕ Glorfindel doesn't just respond to verbal affection and soothing, he also responds well to physical affection.

♕ Now that he knows you're not mad at him, or that you're not going to embarrass him, Glorfindel will take the opportunity to lean forward and rest his head against your shoulder and hold you close to him.

♕ When you embrace him back, he loves the feel of one arm around his neck and the other carding through his hair.

♕ It makes him feel safe and protected, even if he's the one that has to do the protecting more often than not.

♕ Holding him like this, and rocking him gently helps lift the weight off his shoulders and he rests his body weight against you- carefully.

♕ His symptoms start to die down slowly.

♕ Glorfindel's breathing becomes even, his hands stop shaking, he feels more relaxed but tired and most importantly comforted by you.

♕ He's internally kicking himself for not having brought this to your attention sooner, as going through it with you there to help him has made it a less stressful experience.

♕ As you start to check in on him asking if he's okay, Glorfindel is sheepish and confesses to you that he is not okay but he does feel better having you there with him.

♕ He doesn't part from you, but instead clings to you tightly as if he's afraid to let you go.

♕ Finally Glorfindel will start to open up to you, especially as you start to question him and what was going on.

♕ He explains to you what set him off, how long he's been suffering through these still clinging to you.

♕ Glorfindel tells you how much he loves you, and thanks you profusely for your patience with him and your lack of judgement over his predicament.

♕ Your reminder to him that of course you'd do this for him, and that you love him and his partner warms his heart.

♕ Glorfindel knows he's got his perfect one, being with you and the fact that you'd go out of your way selflessly to care for him when he was so vulnerable.

****

Tags: @saviorsong @lilmelily @dicksoutformtl @fandomhoe101 @celebrimbor-telperinquar @red-riding @miriel-estelwen @ta-ka-shi-ma @nerdysimpy @thegirlwithoutaname87 @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @eternalabysss @noldorinpainter

[skriblee-ksk]

On the morning after Lydia's birthday, Kiyuu opens the door of Ramshackle to find a bag sitting on her doorstep. Wrapped neatly and with care, she opens it to find a card, along with something hidden by tissue paper.

Dear Kiyuu,

Thank you so much for the birthday gift! I couldn't believe you guys planned me a surprise party, it was so much fun ♡ (Though I feel sorry for whoever has to clean the Lounge after the "cake fight" started...)

While it's not much, I hope you enjoy this gift. Consider it a party favor lol ♡

Your friend,

Lydia ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა

P.S - I may have... gotten some help...

After reading the card, she unwraps the tissue paper to find a handmade plushie, resembling the wolf beastman she adores. The plush was small, holding it in one hand easily. It was well-made, so many little detailed stitched on. His uniform, his ears and tail, even his face, all embroidered with care.

As she was examining the plush, she was surprised to find a small magnet in his hand, silently wondering what it was for.

Little did she know, Jack had gotten a similar plush, created to resemble Kiyuu. There was a magnet in the hand of her plush as well, allowing their two plushes to hold hands when together. There was even a plush of Grim, though it wasn't as well-made as the others, resembling more of a puffball than the tuna loving beast.

Meanwhile, at the abandoned dorm known as Ramshackle in Lydia's world...

Lydia sits on the dirty floor next to Ryuumi, doing her best with the needle in her hand. A laptop sits between them, with a video paused on the screen. The delinquent watches her in a mix of amusement and frustration, doing his best to make sure she doesn't hurt herself.

"Lyds, your hand is shaking. Give me the needle an' I'll finish it up." He says, leaning over and taking it from her hand before she could answer. He starts the video over, holding the fabric close as he squints his eyes.

"At least wear your glasses..." Lydia asks, moving to hand them to him. He immediately shakes his head, pushing her hand away.

"I got this, don't worry! I can see!" He reassures her, his eyes still squinted as he moves the fabric even closer.

He stays this way for a moment, unmoving, before reluctantly mumbling out, "... Give me the glasses." Pouting as his cheeks dusted in pink.

Kiyuu was absolutely OVERJOYED at the very least to have a detailed and adorable plush of both Jack and Grim.

She examined the magnet, trying to figure out what it could be used for (To hang it on the fridge…?? Totally unlikely!!!) when a text message arrived from Jack, mentioning a bag with a Plushie in the likeness of her arriving in front of his dorm room (which he thankfully was able to retrieve first, given how early he wakes up).

Kiyuu immediately ran over to his room, bringing the bag with her. When she arrived, Jack was already gently holding the plush of her in his hand, not knowing what exactly to do with it. She quickly took her own plushie out, excited to talk about Lydia’s handiwork and their matching gifts, when…

Aha.

What a perfect gift.

-

GIRL THIS IS SO CUTE???? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS MESSAGE OMG I WAS READING IT AND GIGGLING!! IM GLAD LYDIA IN UNIVERSE RECIEVED A NICE SURPRISE BIRTHDAY PARTY!! She better have won the cake fight /lh

THE PLUSHIES….. THE FACT THAT IT HAS A MAGNET SO THEY CAN HOLD HANDS…… JACKIYUU CANON EVEN IN PLUSHIE FORM…… ITS THE ONLY THING IVE EVER WANTED 🥹 I’m sure that Kiyuu will form an excessive emotional bond with it, thank you Lydia!!!!!

AND OML RYUUMI??? WHAT A GUY I LIKE HIM SM ALREADY THE DELINQUENT IS BACK!!!!!!

anyway. ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU SHEEPY!! IM GLAD YOU HAD A MOST WONDERFUL BIRTHDAY (AND THAT LYDIA DID TOO!!!) TY FOR INTRODUCING RYUUMI HERE!!! TY FOR EVERYTHING!!!!! 🫶🫶🫶🙏

[katyawriteswhump]

I think we're alone now (steddie/steve whump fic)

Finally finished my latest 'ate the whole of my life' fic on AO3 (forgot to post the ending here before-- srsly can't possibly keep up with two streams, but figured I'd cross-post the start now it's completed in case anybody is interested) Thanks to anybody who stuck with me for the ride ;)

I think we're alone now (56194 words) by katya1828 Chapters: 25/25 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Steve Harrington Series: Part 6 of Hard to Hate (aka Steve whump fic thread!)

Chapter One

Eddie’s night was warming up—i.e. he was rolling his second joint—when a loud crack sounded from the undergrowth. That was when Steve Harrington stumbled into his life.

For a few thudding heartbeats, Eddie was spooked. Was it a very lost, totally smashed freshman? A bear?

Eddie jumped up from his favourite log. Steve lurched, aimlessly, toward Eddie’s half-assed attempt at a bonfire. Then he froze—perhaps noticing he was on course to transform himself into a Nike-clad version of the Wicker Man.

From a few yards off, Steve stared at Eddie, who recognised the douche from the eternity they’d spent together at High School. Eddie gawked back, incredulous: “What the heck, man?”

Steve kept staring. Didn’t move. Only stared.

“Uh, Harrington. You know me, right?”

Harrington didn’t seem to—only saw a long-haired freak. “I swear this doesn’t happen to Jon Bon Jovi,” mumbled Eddie. He made a mental note to push some low-quality stash to Steve and his dipshit friends next time they came crawling. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

Still no answer.

“Harrington? You okay? Never thought I’d see you wandering round like a lost little sheepie.” 

Of all Eddie’s off-road haunts, this was the most remote and secret. Nobody un-initiated ever found it. That said, jerks like Steve had their woodland haunts, too—Lovers Lake, Skull Rock. Maybe the moron got lost? Most likely… but, Oooooh shit! All kinds of alarm bells clanged off in Eddie’s head. It was kinda chilly this late on a spring night, and Harrington had got no jacket—he could afford a decent jacket, right? Uuuuuuh, and Steve wore only one sneaker.

Eddie edged close enough to spot a bruise near Steve’s lip, the blood streaking one side of his face. “Jesus, what happened to you, man?”

Steve’s knees buckled, and he slumped heavily onto them. Eddie indulged in a split second of indecision—this wasn’t his problem, and he could just run . Then he crouched down and caught Steve, clumsily, before Steve crumpled face-first into the mud.

So, there he was, arms wrapped around platinum dickhead Steve Harrington, who leaned heavily against him

“Shit,” said Eddie. “Okay, big guy, do you think you can make it over to that luxurious couch?”

Eddie nodded toward the log. Steve didn’t even lift his head. He trembled violently, his breathing ragged and uneven. Eddie—because wtf else could he do?—hauled Steve to his feet. He guided Steve over to the fallen trunk, groaning at the near deadweight pressed against him. Steve sank onto the log, drooped forward, then wrapped an arm tight around his ribs. Finally, as Eddie hovered, still tempted to flee to the next county, Steve lifted his chin and blinked.

“Munson?”

Okay, maybe Steve wasn’t quite the dick Eddie thought him to be. That was becoming far from the least of Eddie’s problems. Steve was pale and bleeding, and yeah, there were goddamn twigs in that fabled hair.

“Yeah, it’s me, buddy.” Eddie sat down beside Steve, who widened those huge eyes even further, then kinda flinched. Most shocking of all, his lower lip trembled… and Eddie baulked, half-wondering if that single joint had gotten him trippy.  

Because Eddie was suddenly as up close and personal as he’d ever been to Steve’s incongruously pretty, if currently somewhat bruised mouth. The mouth he loathed the hell out of, because he got why girls wanted to kiss it so bad. Or, even why some guys did… If the homophobic bullshit that beyond-asshole Billy Hargrove recently put around about Steve had any truth behind it.

Oh, yeah. Eddie had long harboured a beyond-dumbass hankering to do the same as all those lucky gals and guys.

Steve trapped his trembling lip between his very white teeth. “Hey, it’s okay,” said Eddie. “Uh, welcome to my fort. I apologise—it’s kinda rough around the edges. No luxury picnic bench at this one, though the builders are due next Tuesday to plumb in the ensuite.”

Steve didn’t laugh. The drop of fresh blood sliding down the side of Steve’s face proved the final straw. If Eddie wasn’t going to run away, then he was going to have to take this seriously. 

Ugh, seriously?

“Okay, Harrington—where do you need to be? Because I ain’t go no wheels. Not that they would be much use out here, anyhooo.”

It was kinda a surprise when Steve answered: “I… uh, I don’t know.” He ran his fingers distractedly across that mouth. His nails were dirty, and when he pushed them into his hair, they snagged.

“Look, you’re bleeding—are you hurt bad? Do I need to get you some help?”

“No. I’m okay… I’m good,” mumbled Steve. “Just gimme a minute, all right?”

“Cool.” Eddie couldn’t contain a sigh of relief. One unwanted guest here was one too many.  “Can I get you…” Okay, so he didn’t exactly have a supply of WASP-friendly mineral water. “It’s beer or 7-11 fake cola.”

“Beer,” murmured Steve. An owl hooted and the wind rattled through the trees, and Eddie scooted off to oblige. He fumbled in his pack to locate a not-too-grubby Dunkin Donuts napkin. Meanwhile, from the corner of his eyes, he noticed Steve reach into his jeans pocket, and draw out a jar of pills.

By the time Eddie returned, Steve was tipping the contents into his palm. Which was going badly, because his hand still shook. Way too many pills came out, and Steve grunted as they tumbled to the moist forest floor. Then he dropped the jar altogether. “Shit, shit, shit! I need those, man, I need them.”

He sounded totally distraught, half-sliding, half-falling off the log in pursuit. Eddie kneeled down to help and got to the jar first. When he squinted to read the label, his eyebrows shot sky-high.

“Valium, dude? Wow—never thought I’d see you poppin’ the housewives’ fave.”

Steve, kinda shame-facedly, grabbed the jar back. “Can I have that beer now?”

“Hey, not judging, dude! Stole ‘em off your Mom, huh?” Steve's latest flinch answered that one for him. “Look, I can fix you up with more if you’re interested. Better, in fact.” Eddie opened the beer for Steve—no point risking further spillages—then had second thoughts. “Okay, if you’re going to take those, do you mind if I suggest the Cola option?” 

Steve shrugged, as Eddie’s mind screamed—since when did I A, counsel the sensible choice, B, give a flying fuck? That said, he wanted Steve to be able to leave, ASAP. Eddie side-lined the beer, and grabbed the Cola, and opened it for Steve. Who palmed two pills into his mouth, and washed them down with the weak, brown nectar. “Thank you,” he whispered. Then he closed his eyes, and let out a long, shuddering sigh. Another drop of blood trickled down his cheek.

“We need to stop that bleeding, man.” Very carefully, Eddie leaned forward with the napkin and dabbed at the blood. Steve flinched harder than ever, and sliced up a hand as if to protect himself.  “Don’t worry, I’m not going in for the death blow. I just need to clean you up a bit.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged, as if in surrender. Eddie tentatively wiped more of the blood from Steve’s brow, and his own worries ratcheted up a whole new notch. 

Harrington was usually a brash dick, and had no trouble mouthing off about anything and everything, straight outta the gate. Whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into, he was clearly badly shaken, maybe even in shock, and… Crap, what if he had amnesia? If he was found with Eddie… Oh yeah, baby, Eddie could see exactly where that would go.

Everyone who was anyone would assume he attacked Steve. The Pigs would do anything to dump trailer-trash Eddie Munson Jr into jail where he belonged. Harrington himself could easily lie, or simply not refute any assumptions, and flush Eddie right down the shithole.

Eddie removed the blood-spotted napkin, folded it over and handed it to Steve. “Hold that over the cut.”

When Steve didn’t instantly respond, Eddie took his fingers—cool, smooth, weirdly brittle right now—and placed them in the right spot. Steve hissed between his teeth, and Eddie withdrew his touch. 

This was weeeeeeiiird.

“Look, Harrington—are you gonna level with me about what you’re doing out here?”

Steve stared at the fire, mouth pressed into a thin white line.

“You’re making me nervous, man.” 

Eddie glanced at the napkin Steve held to his head. Not soaked with blood, so the wound had clotted. Steve's fingers still trembled, though… and something panged, deep inside Eddie. 

He slid off his denim jacket, placed it carefully around Steve. “Hey, we’re safe, I promise. Nobody ever comes out here, and you don’t have to spill your guts, but… Did you, uh, by any chance clash with Hargrove tonight? That boy has some serious unchecked anger issues."

Steve palpably tensed. Eddie was onto something. Not his business, and yet…

“Those rumours he put about were harsh, man. What he said about you putting out for him—and, uh, any dude who dropped their trousers—totally out of order.”

Steve’s laugh was one of the most miserable sounds Eddie ever heard.

So Eddie went and said waaaaay too much: “Look, if by any remote chance you and Hargrove were real, and he’s gone and been a tool about it, it’s cool, man. I’m… uh, I’m not like other people.”

“Wha—” That had Steve looking up sharply, a single line creasing across his forehead. He looked away just as swiftly, shook his head. “Nah. Tonight had nothing to do with Billy, it was my fa… No, I guess… I guess Billy started it.”

Eddie reached for the opened beer can. He casually took a slurp. If only to put Steve off the scent for now. ‘Cos, yeah, Eddie was gay. Worse, he’d been begrudgingly hot for Steve for an age. Not that any of that mattered right now—damn his stooopid soft heart.

Although getting involved would doubtless place Eddie in peril, he was genuinely worried about Steve. Rumours alone couldn’t have landed him in such a mess.

Eddie puffed out his cheeks shuffled a little closer along the log, till their thighs almost touched. He offered the beer: “You wanna talk about it now?”

Read more on AO3...

[bliitzo]

❝ Um... Sir? ❞ Lucille says as she tentatively sticks her head into Blitz's office, arms laden with paperwork. ❝ Sorry t' botha' you, but there are forms I need signed. Somethin' 'bout... lawsuits? ❞ Final word is more of a question, Lucille quizzically looking at a document as she steps into the room, door closing behind her. Brows crinkle as she flips through the different forms, trying to make sense of the frankly outlandish claims. Lucille hasn't been IMP's assistant-secretary long, but she already knows they're all very plausible.

❝ Should I jus' leave 'em here on yer desk? ❞ She asks, already setting down the heavy stack with an audible grunt. Sighing at the relief to her poor arms, she looks at Blitz and adds, ❝ I could come back for 'em in an hour or two. ❞ - (( *hands Blitz a soft sheepie secretary* lol ))

@dragcns-den

There she was. His new piece of eye candy. Satan damn it she was the prettiest sinner he'd seen in a long time. Honestly it was hard to take in the words she was saying when all he could focus on was how much he wanted to rail her ass against his desk. "Yeah that's great baby. Here I'll take care of it." He said before pushing said papers off his desk. Pulling in the woman by the waist before hoisting her up on the desk. Not like he gave a shit about lawsuits anyway. This was hell no one fucking cared. "Stay for awhile doll face. Why don't you tell your boss all about your day?"

[writer-komaru]

₊˚ପ⊹ Prey of the Snake Eyes (*❦ω❦)/‘˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

✧Rating: Smut + Slight NonCon

✧Characters: Thirteen

✧Word Count: 2.4k

✧Summary: Your decision to wear matching costumes with Mammon to the Devildom annual Halloween party was the last straw for a certain snake-eyed reaper. One moment you’re playing classic carnival games and winning prizes, the next you’re pulled into a secluded spot in the eerie haired house and shown who you really belong to. Try to keep quiet all you want, she’s not stopping till you’re sobbing loud enough to rattle the walls of the celestial realm.

“This was such a cute idea! But how in the world did you get Levi to help make these for us?” You asked Mammon while happily twirling around in front of the mirror.

“My amazing persuasive skills and a little bit of bribery never hurt anyone,” Mammon chuckled to himself as he rested his arm on your shoulder and joined you in front of the mirror.

“You didn’t hear it from me but you look smokin’ hot as Yoimiya,” he playfully nudges you with his elbow, “Everyone’s gunna be so jealous.”

“Yeah, so very jealous that I'm going with The Arataki Itto, that’s what,” you nudge him back and put your hands on your hips.

“Haha, now that’s a given,” he smirks and combs his fingers through his hair. After a quick laugh at his antics you both rush out of the door to make it to the location on time. This wasn’t your first time going to Devildom’s annual Halloween party, but it was the first time you were not only going with someone but dressing up with them too. Usually you and the rest of the demon brothers go as a group, but this year RAD decided it was a great idea to give out a heavily weighted quiz the day after the party so everyone’s held up in their rooms studying. The only reason you and Mammon are going is because he never really cared about his studies and says ‘he could do it with his eyes closed’ and you completed your studies early. You were honestly very happy you didn’t have to go alone because parties are always more fun with friends. But there's just one thing you feel like you’re forgetting…

“Are you sure we brought everything?” You remarked, looking through your purse as you walked.

“What would we need to bring to a Halloween party besides ourselves?” He laughed it off, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze.

“Well I don’t know, maybe things like money, keys to the house, our phones, our tickets-���

“Yeah yeah yeah I get it, I’d be lost without you, what else are ya tryin’ to prove, huh?” He snickered and squeezed your hand again.

“I’m glad you realize it,” you laugh with him and eventually reach the entrance to the event. It’s decorated with vines, fake bats, and cutouts of ghosts and other monsters. It looks a little more cute than scary, though. But the interior is a lot more appealing as you two enter. There’s tons of mini games, other demons in costumes, a corn maze, a haunted house, and even a fountain filled with smoking purple water. This might have just been your imagination but you could have sworn Mammon’s eyes sparkled like bright fireworks at the idea of getting to experience all these attractions with you.

“They fuckin’ got apple bobbin’ too! Come on, we gotta go see!” He excitedly pulled your arm, causing you to yelp as he dragged you towards the buckets of apples. That was until both of you suddenly stopped.

“Huh? What gives?!” Mammon narrows his eyes, ready to square with any insignificant demon pleb that dared to interrupt his private time with you. Instead, he realized he was face to face with a bubbly, smiling face and a pair of sharp, snake-like eyes.

“Why hello again Sheepy and… company?” Thirteen waved to you and gave a curious look to Mammon, “Ohhh, you’re that funny guy who tried using a fishing rod while on the roof to snatch things out of people’s bags! Hahaha, that had me in tears!”

His face lit up in an embarrassed and angry blush, “It was one fucking ti- I mean, HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!”

“Wait mammon you actually tried something like that…?” You raised your eyebrow. You knew he would do anything for some quick Grimm but that seems way too cartoony, even for him.

Thirteen continued giggling, playfully slapping him on the back, “Could have used a better escape plan though! Falling off the roof and into the bushes wasn't the best idea.”

“J-just shut up, would ya?! It’s none of your business!!” He snapped back, pulling you closer to him by the arm.

“Alright fine, I’ve had my fun. And I don’t just come here to embarrass you or something, I came here for the little sheepy over here!~” She flashed you a smirk, causing Mammon’s blood to boil. She caught a glimpse at the hand tucked behind his back and the glimmering gold chains swirling around his fingertips and looked away from you, “But it seems you’re a little occupied at the moment, what a bummer. Guess I’ll just have to wait my turn, Cya around, sheepy!” As she bounded away, she drifted a teasing nail across your chest.

“That reaper girl… ugh, whatever, let’s just ignore her,” Mammon huffed as he motioned you back towards the apple buckets.

Throughout the whole night you couldn’t stop thinking about her, over and over, especially how she touched your chest. Was she trying to hint at something?

“Hey, earth to MC, pay attention! It’s no fun winnin’ if you’re just gonna count every star in the sky all night!” Mammon snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“Huh? What? Oh, sorry my bad. It’s uh, just a beautiful night tonight, I got distracted,” you laughed it off, picking your water gun back up and aiming it right at the target ahead of you.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, sore loser- Hey, quit that, you might actually beat me!” He exclaims, trying to fire twice as fast. After a very close match, you managed to come out on top by only a few points, being rewarded with a cute plushie bat with devil horns.

“Ughhh no fair, I shouldn’t have snapped your attention back and taken the free win instead,” he groaned to himself as you two walked away from the booth, hanging his head low dramatically.

“Look who’s the sore loser now?” You smirked, jabbing him in the shoulder.

“Shut it, I’m not a sore loser! Uh- there! See that game over there? First one to get a prize is the real winner! I’m totally going to wipe that shit eating grin off your face!” He points at the high striker game in the distance and sprints over to it. Excited by the challenge, you begin to follow him, only to feel a familiar pair of hands grace your shoulders.

“Huh? What the-!” You gasp as you're suddenly yanked into the haunted house, a mischievous giggle leading the way to a dark, secluded hallway.

“Was the little sheepy surprised?” A pair of bright green snake-like eyes illuminated the darkness. It was… thirteen?

“Huh? Thirteen? What’s this about? Mammon and I were-“ She presses her pointer finger against your lips.

“Shhhhh~ just forget all about that greedy crow. I’m way more fun than he or anyone in all of Devildom, I thought you knew that by now~” she smirks and once again traces a nail down the middle of your chest. You gulp nervously as the thoughts of your… previous encounters imprint themselves back into your mind.

“B-but we… I’m…” Your heart rate and breathing accelerate more and more as the mischievous reaper leans over you, caging you against the wall.

“Don’t be scared, little sheepy. I'm just here to talk, that’s it!~ Then I’ll let ya go, sounds good?” Her sweet voice becomes a low whisper right against your ear, causing a shiver to run straight down your spine. She smirks at your reaction but doesn’t mention it.

“Whenever I see you nowadays, you’re always hanging around those demon brothers. What’s the deal, huh? I know you’re roommates or whatever but come on, don’t tell me you’d rather get pulled around like their dog on a leash than have some fun with little old me,” she pouts playfully, nudging her thigh between your legs, “And don’t think I can’t see the way they look at you. I can tell they want you, they want you more than just roommates or even friends for that matter. It’s almost amusing. Because no matter how much they want you,” she smirks once more and rubs her thigh against your twitching heat, making you release a whine, “You’re aaaaaall mine~”

“T-thirteen, w-we are in public someone will-“ Your heart skips a beat as she chuckles devilishly, an evil smile stretching across her face.

“Someone will see? Is that it? And so what? Just means more demons will finally realize who you belong too. And I’d guess you like that too, huh?” Her eyes narrow as she grabs your hips and slides them harder against his plush thigh. It’s almost humiliating how good she’s making you feel. You bite your lip, turning away from her, doing your best to hold on to your last shreds of dignity in the face of this flirtatious reaper. But you should have already known fighting back against her is pointless.

“Trying to hold back? Think your cute little body can resist? How silly~ You may be a very special and important human but you’re still just a human with normal human weaknesses~” She laughs at your feeble attempts and doubles down, rubbing your poor, twitching sex harder against her thigh and leaning down to litter rushed hickeys down your neck. If you shunted just a bit it wouldn’t take much to confuse her for a succubus.

“Come on little sheepy, just give in so I can show you a better time than that Mammon guy~” She rolled her eyes at the mere mention of his name, “Playing fun carnival games, wearing matching costume, holding hands, Ughh it’s just insufferable… but I’m getting off topic, I can already tell your body has given up~”

You look down at your hips and watch helplessly as you hump against her leg, small pants and gasps leaving your mouth. She was right.

“What will it be? Want me to continue this or do you wanna peace right back over to the demon that isn’t even looking for you? Who will you choose, the pesky little demon boys or your gorgeous and powerful reaper of souls?~” she waited expectedly for your response, her fingertips snaking under your outfit and teasing the edge of your shorts.

You knew leaving Mammon wasn't a very good idea. If he found you like this it might ignite a second war. But the longer she had you pinned against the wall, grinding your aroused sex in just the right ways to make you lose your mind.

“Agh…damn it… I g-give up…” you finally relented, causing an excited giggle to leave her glossy lips.

“Good little sheepy, I knew you’d tap out eventually. You’ve never been able to resist me and you ever will~” she smirks happily before pulling your shorts down to your knees, making you hiss as the cold, musky air of the creepy hallway greets your dripping, clenching pussy.

“Oh my, look at how damn wet you are from just my thigh, it’s so adorable~” she whispers as she traces small patterns over your pulsing clit, sliding down to your fluttering cunt. Her strokes from your twitching hole to your sensitive clit sends your body into a frenzy, shivering and whimpering like a virgin.

“It feels good doesn’t it? I bet those ignorant demon boys could only dream of touching you like this. Hehehe almost makes me wanna snap a pretty picture of your sweet little pussy taking my fingers and slip a copy under each of their doors, just so they know what they're missing~” Her threats fall on deaf ears as she carefully punges two fingers into your cunt, making sure her thumb doesn’t stop massaging your clit. Your hips buck up into her fingers as they prod against your g spot, almost immediately making your head tilt back to release a surprised moan.

“T-thirteeeeennnnghhh, shit, this feels so good…” You whine and arch your back.

“Oh, I can tell~ I’m only using two fingers but you’re acting like I’m splitting you open. Are you close? Ready to cum already?~” she snickered and gave your g spot a firm rub before thrusting her fingers even faster.

“Mmm, fuck, gunna cum, I need to cu-“ Your half lidded eyes flew open as the sounds of echoed footsteps rung out from some here in the haunted house, “S-someone’s her- AGh?!~”

You looked down in fear as three skilled fingers pounded into your pussy and Thirteen’s lips wrapped around your throbbing bud. You knew damn well she could hear those footsteps just as well as you did. Such a troublemaker, through and through. Your orgasm was quickly approaching as the warmth built up more and more in your abdomen, showing no signs of stopping.

“MC?! Damn it, where are you?! Answer me!” Mammon’s worried voice grew closer and closer, footsteps rushing down the opposing hall. All it would take is one turn at the corner and one more thrust against your sweet spot and he would get to witness the sight of his crush cumming all over someone else’s fingers. The image of that lewd scene was both terrifying and hot at the same time, making your stimulated cunt squeeze even tighter.

“Oh?~ Don’t tell me… does the little pure sheepy like the thought of being found with their pussy being fucked? Hehehe, I’ll take your twitches as a yes,” An almost sadistic expression spread across her face from in between your legs. If that look means what you think it means, you were really in for it. A stream of moans rip from your throat as she sucked harshly on your clit, finger fucking you so hard your pussy’s squelching could probably be heard from all the way at the fucking entrance of the haunted house.

“Aaagghh, s-slow do- f-faster… fuckkk, slow D-DOWNNNGHH!~~’” Your body shook pathetically as the dreaded footsteps picked up speed.

“Yeah, keep crying out like a good little sheepy. You’re mine, and no one else’s. Now cum, cum all over my tongue and show Mammon how much better I make you feel~”

The boiling heat in your pussy was far too impossible to hold back any longer, exploding into a spasm of muscles and loud moans as your hot slick spilled into Thirteen’s eager mouth. The horrified look of betrayal on Mammon’s face you caught the glimpse of before your dazed eyes blinked closed is one that will stay permanently engraved in your mind the next time you try to go out with another demon.

Reblog + Comment + Like if you’d like to see more obey me or Thirteen in specific writing!

(I took a small break cuz of burn out and I’m ready to keep on writing! Sorry this is a bit short, I had more of a smaller idea going in than I did the other ones. Expect more writing soon <3)

[hitlikehammers]

AVOIDANCE: the only real solution to all of Eddie’s your falling-in-love problems!

(0 out of 10 participants in this approach have proven its INeffectiveness; talk to your ✨love interest✨today to avoid this heartbreaking waste of your energy!)

It’s not like they were bosom buddies for years and years. A week at the outset, a couple months since, and now they’re all back in their own homes living their own lives and Eddie can avoid the way he’s most definitely, one-hundred-percent certainly in love with Steve Harrington. Very effectively.  By simply avoiding Steve Harrington. 

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, eddie munson and his newfound obsession/unprecedebtedly-close-to-love feelings for steve harrington, answer: avoid steve harrington like the plague, excellent and emotionally-mature ways of dealing with your problems! /s, primary hiccup in existing plan: forgetting steve harrington doesn’t take well to failure, (oops), miscommunication, boys so dumb, confessions, hint of angst (because eddie is a very silly boy with very silly ideas sometimes), self-confident!steve, steve harrington facing the issues head-on, feelings confessions, peak eddie dramatics, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day fifteen: “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”―Jane Austen, Emma

True fact: Eddie thought he was playing things cool. Thought he was totally copacetic, in, you know, keeping it all subtle. He can do subtle, y’know: being loud and proud, shouting on tabletops and shit, screaming at drunks—that was a choice, not a…a rule. He’s a freak, he’s an outcast, he’s a weird-ass motherfucker: he’d have had far more brushes with his actual-factual demise in this podunk town if he was literally incapable of blending in with the background, and not just kinda sickened by the concept, let alone the effort involved to appease fucking…normies.

So yeah, he’d…he’d thought he was flying under the radar. And anyway; why the fuck would Steve Harrington even notice eddies absence in his day-to-day? They were apocalypse ‘friends’. Hospital buddies at best.

They’re back in the real world now.

Eddie supposed Vecna or whatever the fuck his name is will come crawling back in the foreseeable future, but brighter minds than his are preparing for that shit. The sheepies will let him know if they need his assistance—pending what that assistance may or may not be worth dependent on how far along his PT journey he stands at that point.

But it’s not like they were glued to the hip. It’s not like they were bosom buddies for years and years. A week at the outset, a couple months since, and now they’re all back in their own homes living their own lives and Eddie can avoid the way he’s most definitely, one-hundred-percent certainly in love with Steve Harrington. Very effectively.

By simply avoiding Steve Harrington.

It’s kind of a foolproof plan, really. He starts wrapping Hellfire earlier, tells the little shitheads he’s gotta run, Wayne needs a hand with a revolving door of household projects now that they’ve got their own place with more than one bedroom. Gotta mount that hangers for that ball cap collection just right, you know, yadda yadda.

He thinks they gave up being suspicious without a week or two, now just hit him with annoyed eye rolls. God bless the scourge of self-centred teenage bitchiness playing directly into eddies hand.

What he failed to account for, however, about eleven weeks into his up-to-now flawless scheme, was…well. The leading man himself.

Showing the fuck up at Eddie’s door, which Eddie answered for once like a fool and now can’t back out of cleanly because there’s no truck in the drive—it’s clear he’s here on his own.

Motherfucker.

One thing can be said for the plan, in terms of like, general side quest observations—absence definitely made the heart grow fonder. Or at least didn’t contribute at all to the opposite. Which Eddie hadn’t been entirely sure was possible, because the speed and strength of how he fell with every fucking cell in him had honestly terrified the shit out of him on its own. But after avoiding Steve, nodding at best if he canoed paths and sneaking away when the man called out like he was gonna snake through a crowd at any of the number of the family dinners for interdimensional-trauma-survivors-anonymous that Eddie couldn’t weasel out of: it’d been clear pretty fucking quick.

The almost-indefensibly-absurd affection he’d developed for the King of Hawkins—it wasn’t just reign over the high school if the parents were so charmed, if the fucking hospital has cowed into acting and quick when they tried to hesitate in treating an accused murderer, as Eddie’d been regaled with by everyone but Steve, who shrugged his kinda crucial role in saving Eddie’s ass with a shrug and of course, man, like there was ever even a question—but his indefensibly overwhelming and absurd infatuation that spent every month expanding further to try and crack his fucking ribs, well.

It was chronic, at best. He wasn’t gonna shake it…any time soon.

Any time soon.

So: best to at least keep the catalyst at bay, stop it from causing the condition to worsen.

He’d made the mistake of thinking it couldn’t get worse already. Learn from your mistakes, and all the shit.

So what if it’s been months now and not only has the malady of being ass-over-nipple in-fucking-love persisted, but got so much fucking worse? Deeper? More, when that shit should have even been possible?

No. He just has to be persistent. Keep at the plan. Eventually, it’ll die off. It’ll whither and blow away. It’ll fucking fade—

He does, however, fail to calculate all contingencies.

Namely Steve Harrington’s incapacity to accept defeat.

He’s also too fucking scatterbrained to check the door before opening it when there’s a knock, just after Wayne’s left for his shift. When Eddie has no excuse to slam it back shut on the exceptionally exquisite face waiting when the hinges swing open.

Exquisite, but looking…pinched. Sour.

Pissed the fuck off.

And worst of all of it—because so far the list only server to underscore that unfortunate state of being fucking beautiful, on every possible level—but worst of it all, because it’s worst on its own but also because it twists, distorts all the beauty, and it’s so clearly Eddie’s fault because Steve is standing right here, and not elsewhere, after all this time.

Looking hurt, under everything else.

“I’m done with this, yeah?”

Eddie could run. He’d only make it to his room; Steve would probably be able to break down the door and get to him before he could slither through the window and run, but he’s still not 100%, right, he’s physically at a disadvantage anyway, it’s not even gonna be a question—

Steve’s got him cornered.

So he just stands. Blinks.

Doesn’t…know what Steve’s ‘done with’, but he feels his literally twist, wring like a dishrag, when he figures out the most likely answer is just:

 Eddie.

Even trying to keep the maximum distance, he either knows, and hates it, hates him, or…

He doesn’t know, and doesn’t need to. He just is over Eddie and his bullshit.

It’s in the heart-piercing distraction of either and both possibilities that Steve pushes past him into the front hall.

“What the fuck is your problem, man?”

Steve crosses his arms as the door latches closed, caging them in.

Eddie’s heart starts kicking hard, which is painful. He assumes that’s because it’s been pierced by the hurt still on Steve’s face.

“I thought we were, like, that at least we were friends?”

He says it like he also has maybe had thoughts like there’s something else they were, or could have been. That by association and context would be somewhere more than friends?

Eddie’s pieced-through heart switches to a double-thumping sort of thing that’s really just as confused as the rest of him.

Hurts like a motherfucker, too.

“Did I do something?”

Steve asks, finally sounds more defeated than any of the other things Eddie can pick up in how he holds his body, and honestly that’s what breaks Eddie’s resolve, of everything; after everything. After holding out this long and failing for the entire fucking effort, after hurting Steve, the last thing he could ever want, probably the main underlying reason he’s been running from him the whole goddamn time—to not hurt him.

He’s suck a fuck up. He’s such a fucking fuck up.

“You know how sunflowers grow?”

Steve startles a little, grows the slightest bit.

“They find the sun, and the grow toward it,” and Eddie’s not stupid enough to think the whole disaster that’s unfolding in front of him, from his own chest, his own fucking mouth—he’s aware.

He can’t do nothing, but he also doesn’t think he can sugarcoat this in a way that goes down easier; sand the rough edges to make it make better sense.

He has to wrench it raw and bloody from his ribs, caught on the jagged bone like the messy fuck he is.

“You were the sun,” Eddie finally says it out loud, and his voice is so small and wondering, he can’t hide it. “You were the sun and I woke up broken, I had to grow back so much and I did, because I had the tools,” he swallows, takes a shaky breath:

“I had the sun right next to me, to do all the growing toward. To…rebuild around.”

Eddie’s always been a weirdo, and outcast—he’s spent a lot of time in libraries; often hiding.

But he’s read a lot of random shit. And enough of it’s stuck to make some sense of this fucking mess.

Steve’s face gives nothing away. It’s usually so…so generous with its feeling, even if there are some feelings Eddie knows Steve’s careful to never let show.

But in the now, he just stares.

“Otters,”Eddie blurts out, fingers twitching, wrists shaking; “they hold hands when they sleep,” and he looks up for a second before looking away again, pulse a mullet in his throat.

“I used to hold onto your hand when I fell asleep in the hospital,” and he says it like it’s a secret, a confession, even though of all people, of course Steve already fucking knows. The part he doesn’t, though:

“I still reach, and how fucked that? Like I deserve it as a rule, like it’s mine.”

Like you’re mine.

He can’t say it. But he doesn’t have it. It rings out on its own.

“But then there are the trees that shoot up all tangled,” Eddie can’t remember what they’re called; “where the trunks split off into one another, or they’re so braided up together the share their bark, whole pieces left Bernal’s, naked but the other tree covers it, makes it strong and safe but only so long as they’re literally fused together indefinitely,” and Eddie hopes that one…that one explains itself.

He pauses, waits for any reaction.

No dice.

“Bats sleep in pitcher plants.”

That at least gets the slightest lift of the chin. Probably because it’s weird, and also…bats.

Right. So Eddie’s gonna have to spell it all out.

Which he kinda knew. The examples are fucking weird. But they’re…they’re true. They’re where he is.

“If I get too fucking close, I will destroy you,” Eddie says, because that’s the fear, right—or no.

That’s the fucking truth. Eddie always ends up with the tatters of the things he loves the most.

“I’ll take too much, I’ll take everything,” Eddie confesses, pleads in his tone to be seen, which Steve’s always been weirdly good at, and understood—the bigger gamble.

“There won’t be any stoplights, there won’t be a barrier or a boundary where I’ll know I’ve gone too far because I won’t even think of what that fucking is, what it could be to even watch for, like the barebones idea of ‘too far’, let alone what it looks like, I won’t,” and his breath runs out, so he gasps, and he thinks he sees Steve move to reach, to help, to steady.

He thinks.

It’s probably just wishful thinking.

“I won’t stop holding on just when I’m sleeping, I’ll,” Eddie licks his lips, because now…now he’sstarting to hurt, closer to what it felt like with teeth ripping his flesh than anything has felt, than any loss has threatened. He has to clear his throat, because otherwise the rest will just spill out like a sob:

“I’ll tear your bark so you bleed, and you’re exposed and you die off slow, because I was selfish, so selfish, I held to close, I fucking…” eddies voice cracks; his eyes fucking burn; “because I fucking demanded the whole of you, and damn the cost because I couldn’t process an end, why would I stop doing to even think to be logical and careful when an end to you was, is, well, fuck,” he huffs, and a tear spills out white hot down his cheek;

“It’s incomprehensible, because that would be the end of everything, that was made real fucking clear for me with the bats, both times,” and Eddie means that—he’s had time to think through the origin of his aching and it was early, it was any hint of being in the world without this person in it, too; “and the end of everything, well,” he shakes his head, some of his hair sticking in the single trail of salt on his skin:

“Tied up in you, so tight we couldn’t physically untangle?” His voice drops to a whisper, and he knows his smile has to look sad, but he means this is the deepest places his heart even holds:

“What better way to go?”

He maybes watches Steve’s throat bobbing. Maybe.

Probably not.

So Eddie just sighs. Because…none of that matters. None of that matters in the face of the core truth:

“Those pitcher plants dissolve things inside them, it’s how they eat,” he half-recites, retreating into those deep-heart places, where the feeling is most saturated, but hard to find, somewhere to hide as he whispers, cowers in himself as he flats his own flesh:

“I’ll leech from you for wanting too much just the same. I’ll fucking destroy you, Stevie,” he moans, feels his arms wrap around his chest, protective. Trembling.

“I’ll love you so hard I’ll suffocate you, I’ll tear you to pieces trying to get closer, trying to hold the heart of you closer to mine,” he doesn’t even make a conscious decision to press a palm over his flailing heart where his arm already holds, hugs himself so fucking tight. His lungs are sore. It’s tight, trying to breathe.

“It’s not an overstatement, though, the other plants, the flowers,” Eddie feels overwhelmed, suddenly, with a need to make clear that there’s only one person at fault for this, and it’s him—Steve didn’t deserve to get hurt. Eddie should have found a better way to keep him safe—from Eddie—from the very start. Because—

“You are my sun,” Eddie makes himself look up, look at Steve. “I didn’t realize how little I was growing even before spring break. I didn’t notice, how fucking thriving wasn’t even in my goddamn vocabulary, until there was you.” His breathing shudders again, followed by the rest of him:

“I turn toward you as a rule,” because here’s the thing. All these weeks and months.

Eddie’s been shrivelling. Eddie spends his nights dreaming of sunlight.

It’s inescapable.

He was going to have to find a more sustainable compromise soon, anyway. Might as well…lay it all out now.

He’s already ripped off his bark. He’s already prepared to dissolve in the acid, to burn for what it means to have left the feeling grow so big.

“I hope,” he coughs, starts slow, formal-like: “I hope you can do me the favor of just,” he has to clear his throat again; fuck, it’s hard; “politely ignoring that part. Like, even at a distance, it’s not something I can seem to stop.”

He was aiming for apologetic for that last bit, honest.

He fucking fails spectacularly, so. That’s cool.

“I swear, I won’t bother you,” he tries to convey how he’s sorry, for all of it, save for the core of the loving, because he as granted. A taste, no matter how it’s fallen to ruin; he’s selfish that way anyhow, to have seen some of the sun versus darkness alone for always.

Still:

“I won’t come near, I’ll do what I’ve been doing but better, I’ll be better, I’ll try harder, it will—“

Eddie thinks maybe he’s finally died. Of heartbreak, of whatever the Upside Down did to him. Of living without his sun for a long.

Any. All of the above.

Because the next thing he knows is pressure. Heat.

On his lips.

He barely processes responding before its town away: of course death wouldn’t be a reward. Not for him.

“Are you fucking telling me,” a voice bites out close enough to Eddie’s lips that he can feel how sharp they cut:

“That you have been avoiding me, running awayfrom me,” and Eddie knows that voice—

“Breaking my heart,” and fuck, fuck Eddie knows he knows that voice because when it’s hurting—and those words are irate and disbelieving and they’re hurt—

“Because you’re fucking scared of loving me too hard?”

And Eddie pulls back, opens his eyes: Steve.

Steve’s eyes are fucking vibrant with feeling, so many feelings. He’s…he doesn’t think he’s dead, because a lot of those feelings are ones Eddie’s not familiar with, and how would he know to place them there if he’s never known them at all?

He doesn’t know of it’s better or worse, to not be dead right now.

Because he just apparently got to feel Steve’s lips on his lips.

But then:

“Because that’s what you’re saying, right” Steve raises a brow, demands in posture as much as in tone:

“You’re in love with me.”

And then on the flip side of being alive-or-dead: he has to deal with the consequences of spelling out the answer to…that.

Which he’s apparently broken Steve’s heart over handling…the only way he could figure out. And still fucking it up.

“That sounds less than what it feels like,” Eddie whispers; it’s the only thing he can latch on to.

Steve’s eyes narrow at him, contemplate him.

“And you think me, of all people,” Steve finally asks, slow, his tone wrenchingly deliberate; “that Iwouldn’t meet someone loving that big and that much,” “and he huffs, shakes his head in searing disbelief Eddie almost wishes he could flinch from, but it’s so warm, it’s his sun:

“That that wouldn’t feel like there actually was a heaven, and I’d died and somehow made it there?”

Eddie’s breath catches, then stops entirely. He can’t seem to properly suck in another one because…

“That finding that wouldn’t feel like I’d won the lottery, like I’d figured out what it meant when people talk about a blessing, and all that shit?”

Because what…what it almost sounds like Steve is saying can’t actually be—

“That finding it, with you,” and oh, oh Steve is a lot closer than he was last Eddie processed the world around him, his chest is grazing Eddie’s chest when he seems to have no trouble breathing, just is doing it really deep and reallt fast—

“That it’d be anything less than a gift,” Steve murmurs half against Eddie’s lips; “a dream come to life?”

And Steve’s eyes flick up, and it’s when they land on Eddie’s and see him that his lungs shiver and he chokes out the only word he thinks his every molecule knows by heart:

“Steve?”

And Steve doesn’t move, neither. Loser nor farther away.

Doesn’t look away; doesn’t blink.

Just asks:

“Do you love me?”

And something in Eddie unfreezes, some string holding him up, holding him back snaps free and he just grabs Steve’s hand and presses it to his chest, like he needs to be tethered now that the string in him’s been cut, and the touch, this touch: Steve is really all he’s been wanting to keep him.

To keep him at all.

And maybe this is the one shot he gets.

But Steve, Steve said…

He presses Steve’s hand to his chest a little harder, because he’s bathed in the sun again. Their hands are linked, and they’re not asleep. He’s peeled off all the pretense, he’s as bare and vulnerable as he can possibly get. His heart’s beating into Steve palm. Eddie will happily fucking drown in this, dissolve and be…

He’s already consumed.

How is it any different, save that maybe, just maybe, beyond all odds and against everything he’s feared—

“More than I can hold in here,” Eddie scarcely finds the air to breathe; “more than I can say.”

“Then share it,” Steve says, the assuredness, the rightness in his gravity that’s always been at his core radiating forth and warming Eddie in a way he’s never known to feel before.

“Let me know it, let that feeling not be alone anymore,” and the words hold more than their syllables, by so much; “let it out to see the sun,” and then Steve’s flipping their hands so eddies the one caught agains this chest, but he’s always pulling them close enough that Steve’s knuckles are still catching the drum of Eddie’s pulse. It feels…

Eddie didn’t know what to expect, to let the feeling be felt beyond his own chest.

It’s breathtaking in a new way. It’s…

“Let it meet its match here, in how I feel,” Steve doesn’t suggest, just speaks, instructs, leads with a match to what Eddie feels, has been drowning in, save where it stole his air it’s breathing into him; where it took his light it’s reinventing the sun as Steve murmurs close, so close to his lips:

“Let it see how it was killing me all this time without you,” and Eddie whimpers for the cost of what he’s done, what he felt so sure he had to do—

“Let the feeling inside here,” and he presses his touch back to Eddie’s chest just a little bit firmer; “know how much sharing it’s like stitching my broken heart back to rights.”

Eddie’s exhales shakes so fucking hard; he can’t be this lucky. It can’t…he can’t…

But his heart’s beating so hard, so fast, so free.

So fucking alive.

“You can’t say it, big enough?” Steve pushes, his breath so goddamn warm, his lashes so thick, Eddie wants to feel them on his skin like a blessing, a sacrament:

“You can’t say it? Then show me, instead.”

And Steve looks up at him before he grabs around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulls him close enough that speaking rubs their lips together, more combative than affectionate but still undeniably intimate as Steve growls:

“Fucking months, Eddie, Jesus,” and his grip is firm, but there’s no force, Eddie could pull back, Eddie could try to run, and fail, but how could he, how could he ever—

His hand’s crushed to Steve’s chest. The same wild thrum he feels in his veins is there.

Let it meet its match.

“Make up for it,” Steve’s breath trembles on Eddie’s lips, taunts him, begs him, asks so many questions.

Eddie flips their hands one more time, presses Steve’s hand to his heartbeat with nothing less than desperation until his ribs goddamn creak, and then he leans, makes the pressure bigger—

Meets the feeling in Steve with all the feeling in him with their lips on each other like they mean it this time, ready to dissolve in it. To grow themselves to protect around the soft parts. To keep their hands entwined for always.

To come alive inside this sun.

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here

[resident-gay-bitch]

Day Two of @steddie-week - bittersweet / fluff and-or angst / fade to black

find the previous day here :)

Eddie never thought he’d end up here. 

After all this time, he never thought Steve would be the one cradling him and checking over his wounds. He’d always had to fight the urge for it to be the other way around, to hold himself back when he’d see Steve get shoved to the ground, or after he showed up to school with bruises on his face, or that night after the mall fire when he was in the back of an ambulance beaten and bloody and crying. 

Eddie had always wanted to comfort Steve, but he’d always stopped himself. Steve had other people. People that mattered more. People that weren’t Freaks (except like Buckley now, but she was a cool freak, so…). People he’d actually like to be helped by. 

But fuck, the universe was never good to Eddie, was it? 

First it gives him the most heart harrowing crush on Steve fucking Harrington and burdens him with it for four long years, and now it makes Eddie bleed out in his tanned, muscular arms. 

What a way to go, huh? 

“Hey man… don’t… don’t close your eyes.” 

Eddie could barely shake his head as he tried his best to smile, “Couldn’t keep ‘em cl- closed if I… wanned too, St-Stevie.” 

“Why’s that?” Steve sobbed, his minds focus set on keeping Eddie talking, not really thinking much about it, as his hands applied pressure where the blood seeped from his pale skin as Nancy tried her best to tie his wounds off. They could both hear Dustin wailing into Robin's shoulder in the near distance. 

“Cause you’re… beautiful.” Eddie managed to croak out, his mouth filling with more blood as he coughed and spluttered and whined when he saw it splashed up onto Steve’s wet cheek. 

Steve was covered in his blood. 

Eddie’s blood. 

Eddie was going to die like this, and the last thing he’s going to see is Steve crying and covered in his blood. 

The universe was so fucking cruel. 

Eddie couldn’t do this anymore. 

“Hey! Hey!” Steve was slapping his cheek and Eddie forced his eyes open. 

He was so tired. 

“I’m…m’wake…” Eddie slurred and huffed and attempted to roll his eyes, “Ms…” he clicked his tongue and hoped Steve would get it. 

Steve did. He let out a tiny little laugh and shook his head down at Eddie. Only then did Eddie realise Steve had a hand under his head, because he felt Steve’s fingers scratch his scalp and it was a very nice feeling. Eddie suddenly knew exactly how dogs felt now. He wanted Steve to do it again. 

“Don’t worry, Eddie.” Steve said, his voice as calming as he could make it in this moment. 

Eddie could tell it was hard for him to do, his tone still strangled, but god he appreciated it. He appreciated everything Steve had done for him and all his little sheepies now. Steve was far better than he’d always thought, and maybe that’s why the universe had pushed Eddie to fall for this pretty disaster. Maybe the universe could see Steve needed someone a little different like Eddie to love him. Someone who never cared about social status, or the prejudice shit thrown his way every day, or anything like that. Maybe Steve just needed someone with a big heart and a lot to give to hold his hand through all the bullshit he’s been through. Maybe the universe was trying to push Eddie towards him from the very start, because maybe that would have changed things. Maybe that would have made things easier for the both of them. 

Either way, Eddie loved Steve now, every little crack and splinter of his hollowing heart- because Steve was good. Steve was soft, and kind, and yeah really bitchy but in a good way. And Steve needed someone to love him. 

And Eddie could have been that person. 

But he guessed he’d never know now. 

“Ms. Clicks not here right now.” Steve forced a smile, “Don’t worry… don’t worry-“ 

“Good.” Eddie gritted out, and he was really struggling now. He could feel Nancy's nimble fingers working double time to keep his blood in, but he could just feel it spilling out in other places, “Hurts.” 

“I know.” Steve said, and it was softer. It hurt more. Eddie didn’t like that tone. He didn’t like it one bit. He didn’t want Steve to hurt anymore. He hated he was the one hurting him right now, “I know, Eddie.” He scrunched his fingers against Eddie’s scalp again and it was heavenly, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay.” 

Eddie smiled and shook his head, “N-nah… man.” 

“Yes.” Steve said, and it was almost forceful. 

Eddie looked at him for a moment, tracked the fresh tears that ran down Steve’s pretty cheeks and carried away the splattered blood. Eddie had about a hundred new songs swimming around in his head right now, ones of love and loss and hero’s. It’s a shame he’d never get to write them. A shame he’d never get to play them for Steve. 

“Ok-ay.” Eddie whispered and attempted to nod his head. 

He gritted his teeth because it hurt. Everything hurt. 

He looked back up at Steve, and he could barely comprehend anything else. Steve was looking at Nancy, they were talking, but Eddie couldn’t understand. He couldn’t focus on their fast paced words and half their conversation was shared with silent looks anyway. Eddie didn’t need to understand to know it wasn’t good. 

He’s already made as much peace with it as he could. 

“I wish you’d notice me.” Eddie spoke softly, because it’s all he could muster at that moment, his eyes boaring right at Steve as if looking at anything else would bring his end along quicker. 

Maybe it might. 

Maybe he’d live a minute or two longer, just for Steve. 

“Huh?” Steve turned his attention dead on Eddie (yeah, I know, not the best use of words right now), “Oh… I notice you.” 

Eddie smiled softly, blinked a few times, “I… I wish you’d… see me.” He swallowed, and he hated the metallic taste that came with it. He wanted this to be over already. All of it, “S-see me… th-the way I…” 

“Take your time.” Steve whispered, his hand that was drenched in Eddie’s blood moving up to cradle his cheek so softly. 

“I… s-s-see y…ou.” Eddie spluttered, and it hurt. Not just everything, but his heart. It felt like it was being split in half right now. 

“I do.” Steve muttered, learning over Eddie more, his bloody hand smoothing over Eddie’s wet cheek and holding him tighter in place, “I do, Eddie.” 

Eddie shook his head, “N-no… I’m- I m-mean, I-“ 

“I know.” Steve sobbed and kissed Eddie right between his eyebrows, “I know… and- and I see you. I see you so clearly. You’re the brightest star in my galaxy.” 

Eddie sobbed and hated - more than he’d hated anything in his life before - the blood that bubbled between his lips and spluttered out onto Steve’s face again. His own pretty lips and cheeks now splattered scarlett red and stained with Eddie’s death. He tried his best to raise a hand and wipe it away. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. He was paralysed. 

All he could do was cry. 

“I’ve got you, Eddie.” Steve whispered and pressed their cheeks together, his voice a soft song in Eddie’s ear and he hoped it would play for the rest of his life, “I see you, and I’ve got you.” 

Eddie nodded his head and felt Steve’s fingers scratch against his scalp again. 

Fuck the universe. 

Fucking fuck! 

They could have had everything. 

But soon they’ll  have nothing. 

Eddie would just have to pray that now was enough for Steve, because it was certainly more than Eddie could have ever asked for. 

Eddie mustered the biggest smile he could give, and gave it all to Steve, “Y-you’re s-o… beaut-beauti…ful.” 

“So are you.” Steve muttered, cradelling Eddie close, and he could feel hands on his body and movement all around him, but he didn’t care about any of that, he just begged his eyes to stay open so he could keep them on Steve, “So beautiful, Ed’s.” 

“Mhm.” Eddie swallowed and spluttered again, a groan when someone’s hand hit a tender spot on his stomach, “S-Steve…” 

“Eddie.” Steve whispered back, “Eddie Munson.” 

“F-f…reak.” 

“Mine.” 

Eddie whimpered and felt his heart clench. All the pain in his body suddenly went numb. All he could feel was Steve. 

“Do you like that?” Steve asked, his eyes darting out and around before focusing back on Eddie below him. 

“Mhm.” Eddie mumbled, struggling to get his thoughts together. His eyelids were so heavy, “S…te-eve.” 

“That’s me.” Steve said quietly, “Steve Harrington.” 

“K-ing.” 

There was a moment of hesitation before Steve nodded and said, “King Steve.” 

Eddie tried his best to shake his head and smile, “Was.” He said simply, “N-now… m-mmm-mine.” 

Steve almost laughed at that, and Eddie didn’t exactly understand why. He thought maybe he’d gotten it wrong. Maybe Steve wasn’t his afterall. Maybe he’d gotten his dumb stupid wish and been like one of those many girls he’d send dirty looks to that hung off of Steve’s arm each week. Maybe he was Steve’s, but Steve wasn’t his. 

“Yours.” Steve repeated simply, “For as long as you’ll have me, Eddie.” 

Eddie would have him forever, if he could. 

But now would have to do. 

He closed his eyes. 

“O-k-kay.” 

“Okay.” Steve said back. 

“G’bye… S-ste…vie.” Eddie choked out. He wished he could see whether Steve was smiling right now. He hoped he was. He hoped he’d die with Steve’s pretty smile shining down on him. But he was far too tired to open his eyes again, “S…ee y-you.” 

“Soon.” Steve said, like a promise, “I’ve got you, baby… I see you.” 

Despite being on death's doorstep, Eddie did feel pretty damn good right now. 

**

read Day Three here

\/ a dodgy art piece for this one \/

[theveryfires]

now you listen to me | eddie munson x reader

AN: hello! this is just a little drabble i thought of, includes a lord of the rings reference! i might go over this again, make it longer later on. But this is it for now, i hope its okay!

The sun was setting, casting a comforting glow out into the world. The air was heavy with bated breathe and childlike laughter, the calm before the storm as the gang tried to savour their last few hours before everything began. Before the fight started. Dustin and Steve were giggling, bickering like siblings as Steve tried to deny his jealousy of Dustin’s latest ‘older male friend.’ Nancy and Robin were sat against the stolen mobile home, reassuring one another worries and trying to cling onto the small hope that any of their plan would actually work and not fall to pieces. Erica and Lucas were talking lowly, gentle smiles on their faces as their own usual squabbling ceased. 

Eddie sat a distance away from the gang. His stare hardened, almost sad as he tried to focus on the sky. His own plan dancing through his mind, the feeling of the suns warmth soon to be a distant memory. But a hand brought him away from the dark recesses of his mind; her perfume a dead give away as to who had broken his isolation. Eddie leaned into her soft touch, trying to memorise the feeling. “What you thinking about, Ozzy?” The bright smile and teasing tone forced a smile on his face, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance as Y/N plonked herself down beside him. 

Resting her own head of curls against him, sighing as she nervously scratched at her upper arms. Eddie pulled her in closer, their rings clinking together as he folded his hands over hers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He shrugged, a darkness clouding back over that even Y/N’s soft presence couldn't keep completely at bay. “Just what’s about to go down…if all my little sheepies are gonna make it out…if i…if you..” Y/N always had a talent for pulling information out of the closed off metalhead. Ever since the first day they met he had found it impossible to lie to her. It frankly felt sacrilegious. He felt her tense up against him, their hair rustling as she tilted her head up to look at him. A cold shiver weaving around her as she was met with a dark stare, it scared her that Eddie the Brave was worried. 

“Hey..” Suddenly she was sitting up, her hands holding his face gently as she attempted to soothe  away his worry lines. Her heart felt like breaking as tears slowly began to fall down his face, the exhaustion that had gripped Eddie since this all started now unmistakeable. In all the years they had known one another, Y/N had never seen Eddie be afraid. Even when his uncle had to shave off his hair after some basketball goon stuck bubblegum in it. She tilted her head, wiping away the tears with the end of her jumper, it was her turn to be brave now.

 “I mean..what if..what…i don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself if you get hurt down there…it’s my fault you are even involved in this mess in the first place.” Eddie’s chest was heaving, his breathe becoming tangled as he heaved for air. Y/N shushed him, holding him close and pressing a kiss behind his ear (for safe keeping.) She held him until he had calmed down, rubbing his back reassuringly as he finally sobbed into her shoulder. After a few minutes Y/N peeled herself away, keeping her hands tight on Eddie as she brushed his now damp curls out of his face. She set him with a stare that reminded him of the way mothers would look at their kids, she used it on Dustin every now and then when he panicked, it felt so strange to now be the one under her trance. But he couldn't ignore the tears building behind her own eyes, the quivering of her lip as she began to speak. “Now you listen to me Munson, I would go with you to the fucking end, into the very fires of Mordor.” 

[lavenderdreams22]

Violence and Love Letters - e.m.

A/N: hope you guys enjoy this! I’m in an Eddie mood lately, so I needed to get this out of my system. feedback is always welcome, just please be nice! ❤️

Warnings: cursing, violence. as always, very quickly edited. I think that’s really it, but let me know if you need me to add anything else here!

It was a shock to no one that Eddie Munson was now, and had always been, the type to humiliate himself. When he was younger, it had always been accidental. Now that he was nearing adulthood, he found himself doing it on purpose more and more.

It had started out as his way to take some control back when he started getting bullied, but, as time went on, and he got older, it became second nature. And, even though everyone at Hawkins High was used to his theatrics, very few actually tolerated it.

He had the guys in his band, the little sheepies in Hellfire, and then there was you. You were the type that people wrote songs about (he would know, he had written you about 25). You were a blinding, beautiful light that illuminated the depths of his mind when he started to spiral. You were the first person he called when his antics had gone too far, and you were always, without question, the first to let him live it down.

He had called you after a particularly violent encounter with Jason Carver, and he came over to your house. As your fingers worked over the cuts and bruises on his face, he had the chance to really look at you. He had never been able to take you in before, at least, not up close and personal like this. God, you were beautiful, and he didn’t miss the anger burning in your eyes.

The next day at lunch, Jason came into the cafeteria with a black eye and a busted lip.

“Woah, what the hell happened to him?” Gareth’s voice was low to avoid drawing attention to their band of misfits.

Eddie’s eyes followed Jason from the door to his table before slowly sliding his gaze to you. You kept your gaze trained on your food that you had brought from home. With a quick once over, he noticed that your knuckles were bloody, and he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“Did you…?” Eddie whispered.

“No idea what you’re talking about, Munson.” You replied, popping a grape into your mouth.

Eddie grinned at you, then. He let the conversation drop, but you knew it wasn’t over. With a sigh, you eyed him for a moment. He was still grinning as he tucked the memory away. It was one that he wanted to revisit again and again.

*****

Then, there was the infamous chicken salad incident. Your mother had packed it for you, but you spent most of the lunch period with your nose wrinkled at it.

“What’s the problem, princess? Don’t like chicken salad?” Eddie asked, pointing a pretzel at you.

“Not the biggest fan, no.” You shook your head.

“Here, let me get you something from the vending machines?” He said, and when you nodded he smiled at you.

Eddie pushed the chair back, accidentally bumping into a passing cheerleader.

“Ew, watch it. Fucking freak.” She squealed, and her friends laughed behind her.

“The fuck did you just say?” You asked, standing. Your chair nearly toppling over if Dustin hadn’t reached out to steady it for you.

“You heard me,” she gave you an evil little smile.

“I’m gonna need you to repeat yourself.” You were fuming, but you kept your tone quiet. Eddie found that both terrifying and incredibly sexy.

“I called him a ‘fucking freak’.” She repeated, her hands on her hips. “And now that I get a good look at you, I’d say the title fits you both pretty well.”

Before Eddie had the chance to say anything to defend your honor, your chicken salad was flying through the air, hitting the cheerleader square in the chest of her pristine little uniform.

“What the hell!” The shrill sound of her voice rang out through the lunchroom.

“I gave you a chance to shut the fuck up.” You said with a shrug. “Go away.”

“Are you kidding me?” Another shriek.

“I would listen to her if I were you.” Eddie mimicked your shrug, and with a scoff the girls turned on their heels and stalked out of the lunch room.

When he turned back to look at you, you shot him a grin that he was sure stopped his heart completely. He stood there for a moment, letting everything sink in. God damn… he was in trouble. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

*****

“Hey princess.” Eddie grinned down at you from the door of his trailer.

“Hey, Eds.” You gave him a small wave. “Can I come in?”

“Course you can.” He stepped to the side, holding the screen door open for you.

You stepped over the threshold and were met by the distinct smell of Eddie. You inhaled as discreetly as you could, but Eddie didn’t miss it. He never did, and sometimes you found yourself cursing him for being so damn observant.

“Sorry, smells like weed and booze in here.” He chuckled, running an embarrassed hand through his hair.

“No, smells nice. Like your aftershave.” After the words left your lips, you felt the blush creep up your neck.

“So, you like the way I smell, then?” He winked at you before gesturing down the hall to his room. His face scrunched up, again embarrassed by where he lived. “Sorry it’s not the White House.” His voice was quieter than normal, and you felt your heart sink.

“Eds… it’s perfect.” You patted his shoulder, “just like you.” You shoved past him to get to his bedroom. “Can’t believe you’ve never invited me over before now.”

He grinned as he watched you move around the room, your finger tracing over various knick knacks. He would never tell you that the reason he had avoided having you over for so long was because if he got to see you in his space, with his things, he would never want you to leave.

Truth be told, you never wanted to leave, either. Eddie had always felt like home to you. So, with unspoken words, and coveted feelings, the two of you spent the entire night in his bed, passing a blunt between the two of you while Black Sabbath played in the background.

*****

About a month later, Eddie had asked you to copy your notes. You handed him your notebook without thinking. Your notebook that you had scribbled his name in various calligraphies in the margins. The same notebook that you had written love note after love note, dedicated to Eddie, in. You had never intended for him to see them, but you realized your mistake a moment too late.

The sound in your bedroom turned to static, as he sat there, his eyes trained on the page as you chewed nervously on your bottom lip.

“Eddie?” Your voice cracked, and his gaze snapped to you.

“Do you mean these things you wrote?” He asked, his tone just as tentative as yours.

“Every word.” You nodded. “Didn’t mean for it to come out like this, but…” with a shrug, you reached for the notebook.

His face split into a dopey grin, and you felt the weight of the world fall off your shoulders as he traced over the words with a finger.

“So, you meant it when you said ‘Every day I fall more in love with you’?” He asked, “or what about, ‘your eyes remind me of coming home’.”

“Yup, even that.” A small smile, “I don’t expect you to feel the same, obviously.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He closed the notebook and reached out both hands, taking your hands in his. “I have been crazy about you since you decked Carver in the face.”

“You have?” You blinked, and you were sure that the confusion was evident on your face.

“Oh yeah. I always thought I was being obvious, but it seems like the only person that didn’t know how I felt was you. Wasn’t a secret.” He pulled you into his arms by your hands, and, with a yelp, you settled in. Your head rested over his heart, and you swore you could hear the words that neither of you had dared speak aloud. I love you.

[e-munson666]

Caught You Peeking.

+++Eddie Munson/F!Reader+++

*Fluffy×fluffy×fluff*

Warnings⚠️: Mostly just just language, some spying, pining but its really just super soft and cute. ONE use of y/n ×

(You catch Eddies little sheepies spying on you outside of your work, and things take a very unexpected turn after you confront them)

Interested in a part 2?!

🖤xoxo

Its finally 8:30, time to close. You start shuffling around the music store picking up stray records and putting them back in their respective bins. You walk up to the window to switch the sign to closed and you see 4 freshman staring at you, crouched behind a car. "Again with these little idiots" you whisper to yourself as you lock the door to the shop. "Hey there, tiny dweebs, I can see you behind that car. Behind MY car." You scoff, watching them immediately straighten up and chuckle like they weren't just caught. "Ooohhh heeeyyy" Mike Wheeler tries to casually say, all the while holding a guilty look on his face.

"Henderson, Wheeler, Sinclair, Mayfield' you scoff, rolling your eyes at the horror on their faces, exchanging glances as if to silently come up with a good excuse as a whole. "Wait wait don't tell me" you chuckle before they can respond. "Your here spying on me for Munson again, aren't you" you lean up against the car, watching them panic back forth to each other. "Yeeeaaaahhhh, that's kinda what I thought" you shake your head. "And why can't the dingus come spy on me himself again?" You ask folding your arms, eyes locked on Henderson, the weakest link when it came to secret keeping.

Dustin squeaks out your name softly before clearing his throat to continue. "Eddie, uh, kinda.....uh, has a thing for you" he blurts out. "Dude" Lucas scolded him, smacking his shoulder. "Dont dUDE me Lucas, I'm tired of sneaking around as Eddies spy, he's a grown man, he should be able to talk to girls himself by now" Dustin barely gets out before he sees you laughing at him.

"Thats a good one Henderson" you start, "but really, why are you guys always here" you raise an eyebrow as you scan their faces, looking for a reaction.

"Unfortunately Dustin's BIG FAT MOUTH, is telling you the truth" max folds her arms and scoffs at the boys next to her. "These idiots here told Eddie they would spy on you for him if he let them help write the next Hellfire campaign, which we all know, HE ISNT GOING TO DO" Max locks eyes with Mike before he rolls his eyes and turns away from her.

"Wait, what" you start to ask before Dustin cuts you off. "He gave us his WORD Max, his WORD, he has to let us help write the campaign" Dustin says, half confidently. "Reaaaallly" Max replies eyes rolling at Dustin now, "because Eddie is well known for his co-written campaigns....." Max almost laughs as she speaks. Dustin's ears get hot and his face is red. He turns to Mike quickly. "Dude I told you he wasn't serious, he just wants us to get information on her for him while he's probably writing the campaign himself right now!" Mike pokes Dustin in the chest as he spoke.

"Shit" Dustin chokes out before turning on his heels, "We gotta go, NOW" he says to the group before running off. The three remaining freshman exchange looks with you, then each other before chasing after Dustin in a huff. You stood there frozen against your car. "What the fuck just happened" you ask no one. Despite your better judgment you decide to follow the kids, slowly trailing behind them on their bikes as to not give yourself away.

They stop at the school and you see Eddies van already parked in the lot. "Hellfire" you mutter to yourself as you quietly pull in and park in a dark corner of the lot, away from Eddies van, and the building. "What are you even doing, spying in HIM now?" you ask yourself in disbelief. What was the point of following the gang over here? What did you expect to happen?

Wait.....why was Eddie having 4 freshman follow you around and spy on your work? Dustin and Max said Eddie had a thing for you, but that can't be.....right? In your opinion Eddie has never even offered you a second glance. You graduated last year, and have been working at your parents music store ever since.

Ya, you and Eddie knew each other before you left school, but even then you just sat next to each other in a few classes, nothing more. Now that you were at the store most days you saw Eddie and his friends often. They were always coming in at the same time together every Thursday, looking for new releases to hit their small town of Hawkins only music store. Jeff Gareth and Eddie would spend hours flipping through the cassettes and records, pulling their favorites and starting conversations about them. They would ruggmage through the pick box to find in their words "the most metal worthy" guitar picks.

You loved when they came in. Gareth was usually always BEGGING you to tell him about any upcoming shipments ahead, and pleading for you to give him any details. Eddie would usually be moping around in the distance, ignoring you entirely.

You were pulled back to the present when you heard Eddies loud voice next to his van, followed by Dustin and Mike. "So let me get this straight Henderson, you just, TOLD her I have a thing for her." He was fumbling with his keys staring daggers at the boys. "And why, why would you do this??" he asks, gritting his teeth.

"Eddie, you told us if we found some stuff out for you we could help you write the next campaign, and you LIED" Mike says, slightly raising his voice at Eddie, to which he immediately regrets. You can hear Eddie start yelling at the two boys again before you are sucked back into your thoughts.

~Eddie would come into the store a lot on his own too, usually to pick up some extra strings, or blank cassettes to record on, but he rarely ever spoke to you, and most certainly never made eye contact with you. So again, why was he having his little sheep follow you for him.

You are startled back into reality when you hear a familiar voice next to your window. Sighing your name a few times, followed by a tisk. You turn and to your horror, you see Eddie Munson, shit eating grin on his face, crouching down to see you in the window. "What do we have here" he asks, a cocky tone in his voice, grin still plastered on his face. "Did I just catch you, (Y/N), spying on ME?" He boasts, watching the look of utter mortification on your face.

"I, uh, No, I" you stutter, he pushes his hands off his knees and folds his arms, chuckling slightly. "I can't believe I just caught you peeking" he winks before sauntering off.

You are left frozen in your seat. You can not believe what had just transpired, Eddie just caught you spying on him, the absolute fucking irony.........