#30 minutes christmas prompts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harringtown · 2 years

Text

wrap me up in all your—

still not over that obscure friends to lovers prompt list so I did number 30 w Eddie!!!!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: everyone forgets Eddie’s birthday except the reader (aka a cupcake, a joint, a gift, and a confession or two)

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cursing and weed/smoking mention

The trailer park is quiet. The autumn chill has settled over town like a blanket, unearthing winter jackets and beanies from closets and marking every breath with a plume of white air.

Eddie sits beside you on his front porch, and though the light swinging overhead flickers every few seconds, and the wooden stairs are halfway to rotted, it’s his favorite place in the world.

Anywhere that has you in it is his favorite place in the world.

He’d like to blame that sappy sentiment on the joint you surprised him with an hour ago and have been passing back and forth, but if he’s honest, Eddie feels that way sober.

You make him feel and think all that sappy shit he was sure only existed in movies.

You showed up, with a dorky birthday hat and a joint sticking out of a cupcake, and Eddie instantly felt high. And so, even though his day started at crappy and only got worse from there, it’s looking to have a decent ending.

As far as birthdays go, this certainly isn’t the worst. It’s almost better that everyone forgot. No last-minute, hasty gifts or the off-key singing of some waitress and his uncle.

It doesn’t even matter that everyone else forgot. Because you didn’t.

“I got you a present,” you say eventually, jabbing out the last burning embers of the roach and tossing the filter into the tiny pile at the bottom of the steps. Other filters from other nights smoking on this porch, the best of them with you.

“I thought we just smoked the present,” Eddie says.

You snort a laugh and bump Eddie’s shoulder with your own.

“No, that was the candle,” you say. “It would have been better if you rolled it. You’ve got magic hands.” You lift your arms and do jazz hands, making Eddie laugh, and then cough, which makes you laugh, too. Then you’re just two high idiots giggling on a crumbling porch, but Eddie is happier than he has been in a long time.

“Not everyone has the magic touch,” Eddie says. He raises his own hands, and doesn’t miss the way your gaze falls and lingers on each finger, each ring and crooked knuckle and calloused fingertip. Eddie drops his hands. “So. What’s this present you speak of? It better be damn good, after all you’ve hyped it up.”

“I did no hyping,” you accuse. You tear your gaze from Eddie’s and drop it to your lap, where you’re worrying the hem of your hoodie between your fingers. “And it probably isn’t that good—”

Eddie blames the weed on his sudden confidence. He takes your chin in one hand, forcing you to look at him, and he doesn’t realize how close you are on the porch until he almost smashes your nose with his own.

“Whatever it is, sweetheart,” he says, gentler than he intends, “I’m sure I’ll love it.” Your eyes dip, dip to his mouth, and now Eddie is looking at your lips, and he can’t stop.

He clears his throat and sits back. “You’ve never gone wrong before. Christmas ‘82?” He shrugs his shoulders and flashes you a lopsided grin. “Alright, yeah, you kind of screwed future you, there. How the hell do you follow thatup?”

You roll your eyes, but Eddie can tell you’re pleased. He’s known you so long that nonactions are actions, too.

“You and that damn guitar,” you say.

“What can I say? You did good, kid,” Eddie says. He bumps your shoulder again. “C’mon. Quit stalling. Let’s see it.”

You scrunch your nose. “Technically, there’s not really anything to see. I mean, I have a piece of paper, like a written agreement, but—”

“Earth to y/n,” Eddie says in a singsongy voice, though honestly, he’d be content to watch you talk about nothing for hours.

You nod a few times. Clear your throat. Don’t look at him as you say, “I kind of… booked you a gig.”

And Eddie’s dry mouth becomes the Sahara desert.

“You—what?”

“And I don’t know if I’d really call it a gig. More of an… audition? That fancy new club, The Tunnel, is looking for a local band to play Friday nights, and they want something different, so I played them one of your tapes. The manager liked it. He said if you do well at the show in a few weeks, you could be in there every friday night—”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asks.

You stop. Meet his eyes. “Of course I’m serious.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie pushes off the porch steps, onto the dirt below, and shakes his head. “Holy shit.” He wraps his arms around his torso and turns to you, shaking his head again. “Are you serious?”

You laugh, and say, “For the second time, yeah, I’m serious.” You swipe at your nose and sniffle. “Not that your usual joint isn’t great, but I figured, maybe you and the guys wanted to change it up a bit¸—”

And Eddie can’t hold back anymore. He rushes you, throwing his arms around your waist, knees digging into the step below you, burying his face in your neck.

You laugh again, and hug him back, and when you dip your face against his, your cool lips graze his temples. His stomach lurches, and his pulse sings, and yeah, he’s definitely high, but it’s most certainly not all from the weed.

All his reservations fall away. Fall apart. Never fucking existed at all, and he’s just been kiding himself.

Eddie pulls back to look at you.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says. “I love you.”

You let out a little laugh. “I love you, too, dude.”

He shakes his head. Peels himself away from you and drops onto the step beside you. “No. I mean, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I have been since we were sixteen. I was doing a pretty good job of not doing anything about it, trying to maintain the friendship and all that, but then you show up here, and you tell me you booked my band a gig—”

“Technically not a gig!”

“—a gig,” Eddie says. “And suddenly, I don’t give a shit about maintaining anything. So, thanks for that. And I love you. I really fucking love you. Sorry if that screws things up.”

For a long second, you just look at him, and Eddie thinks he could die right there on that porch—which is ironic, considering he kind of almost did, if the grass near this porch in a parallel universe counts.

“Do you have any idea,” you ask, “how long I’ve been waiting for you to admit that?”

Eddie jerks back. “What are you—you knew?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and look away, a sheepish smile on your face.

“I mean, of course I knew,” you say. “I’ve known you since we were ten. I know you. But time went on, and you still never said anything, and I wasn’t sure if I was wrong, or if you just had no goddamn clue how you felt, and then—“

“And how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

Your smile shifts. It shines like a thousand stars, brighter than anything in the night sky.

“I really fucking love you too,” you say. And then you kiss him, and you taste like frosting and weed and a thousand future kisses.

Eddie ends it sooner than he’d like—if he doesn’t, he’ll do something non-gentlemanly things on his porch, and he’s really trying to be a gentleman—and you drop your head onto his shoulder. You lace your fingers through his, fiddling with his rings with your free hand.

Sometime later, you lift your head, and say, “You never told me your wish.”

The cupcake with the joint. You instructed him to make a birthday wish on the first hit.

Eddie averts his gaze, swiping the hair from his eyes.

“My wish?” He shrugs. Meets your eyes. “You know the rules. Secret.” He draws his fingers across his lips and mimics throwing away a key.

You roll your eyes. “Humor me.”

Eddie inclines his head and considers a moment.

“You really want to know?”

“I want to know everything in that head,” you say, lifting two fingers to his temples.

Eddie knows he’s smiling like a dork, but he doesn’t care.

“It was you,” he says. “It’s always you.”

You press your lips together, but a smile tugs them up. You wind your arms around his neck and dip your forehead against him.

“Well,” you say softly. “You’ve got me. Time to find a new wish.”

“I’ll figure it out later,” he says. “Now, I just really want to kiss you again. You cool with that?”

You laugh, and say, “Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

Then you kiss him again.

And Eddie thinks this might be the best birthday he’s ever had.

taglist (join here!): @milkiane @robiin-buckley @copycatkillerfics @robinbuckleyssgf @isshecrazyorissheclever

#brooke writes fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #Eddie munson au #Eddie munson imagine #x reader

5K notes · View notes

kookygranger · 5 months

Text

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part One

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: You're spending Christmas in your best friend Robin's hometown this year, after spending far too many alone in the city. She can't wait to introduce you to the gang and all the wholesome festive activities they get up to, but you may have already made a not-so-good first (and second) impression on a certain metalhead in the first few days of your visit.

Warnings: mention of car crashing into snowbank (no damage), reader gets drunk (happy holidays!), reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 4.4k

Author's note: I've spent far too long agonising over this when it's supposed to be silly and fun and not perfect, so please just have this first part and ignore me screaming into a pillow in the corner.

Part Two

6 Days 'Til Christmas

You really weren’t feeling the holiday spirit this year.

Not that you normally did.

Christmas for you, meant taking advantage of a quiet city, spending the hours alone walking the empty streets and having nothing but smoked salmon and champagne for dinner without feeling guilty. Sometimes (every Christmas), you’d let a corny Hallmark movie play on your TV and cringe and laugh at the predictableness of it all. Maybe, you’d be a bit quieter when the lovesick couple inevitably kissed at the end, maybe you’d pour yourself a little more champagne.

The aesthetic of the holiday season itself, you didn’t mind so much. The pretty twinkling lights, spiced hot drinks, and cookies you could take. But the frenzied crowds, all the talk of “goodwill” and “Christmas cheer”, when all you had to do was spend an hour in a department store to witness the real ugliness of humanity – hard pass. And let’s not forget Christmas day itself, either people would be spending it stuck with family, passive-aggressive comments and secrets coming out after the first few rounds of spiked punch, or they’d be forcefully and painfully reminded of just how lonely they were in this world.

The snow was nice. You secretly enjoyed the quiet and stillness a fresh blanket of snow could bring to the city. But out here in the sticks? Snow was your worst enemy.

Once your heart had settled back to a normal pace, you got out of the car to assess the damage. There was no smoke coming from places it shouldn’t, no visible scratches or dents that you could see – but there was also no way in hell that you were getting this car out of the snowbank you’d crashed into. At least the deer you swerved to avoid was probably off in the trees to your left with its family, living to frolic another day.

“Shit.”

You had no idea where you were. Already lost on the horrible directions your best friend Robin had given you before that damn deer came out of nowhere. The snow was coming down faster than the street plows could keep up with, your hair drenched in a few minutes as another shiver ran through your whole body.

Hawkins was cold. Like, freezing. You always thought winter was winter, but they really took it to another level here in the Midwest.

The day still had a little light left in it, but darkness was fast approaching. You decided the smart thing to do was wait in the car and hope that somebody driving by would be able to help. Or pretend to help before murdering you. Well, you didn’t think walking on a fairly deserted road in the middle of a snowstorm when you had no idea which direction to go would produce better results. So, you waited.

And waited.

Oh god, you were gonna die here all alone. You never should’ve let Robin talk you into coming home with her for Christmas. You could be happily wrapped up in blankets in your climate-controlled apartment with a warm mug of eggnog right now.

Wait! The rum you bought for making eggnog with Robin.

You scramble to reach over the car’s middle console, hands rummaging through the paper bags on the floor in the back until you find the smooth glass neck of a bottle.

The rum burns your throat on the way down with the first swig, but the edge is taken off soon after with a couple more swallows – the familiar warmth settling into your skin once you’ve polished off about a quarter of the bottle. You curl up into your seat, tucking your legs into your coat and holding the bottle of rum close to your chest.

Distracted by the fuzzy feeling seeping into your head and thoughts of which picture of you they’d use to announce your death on the local news, you don’t notice the sound of a truck approaching or its headlights shining across the back of your car.

Maybe Robin will give them a good one of you on vacation together in The Bahamas last year. God, you wish you’d gone somewhere warm instead.

You almost jump out of your skin, letting out an involuntary squeak when someone knocks on your window. Barely making out the shape of a man with wild hair through the condensation that had fogged up the glass.

“You alright in there?”

Please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer, please don’t be a murderer.

You open the car door and step out on shaky legs, almost stacking it when your feet are swallowed by a much thicker blanket of snow than you were expecting. The man reaches out to steady you, his hands engulfing your forearms as you look up at your rescuer. Or potential downfall. A black beanie covers the top of his head but does little to protect the rest of his wild curls that fall across his shoulders from the still falling snow. You briefly take note of the blue coveralls with a name sewn in red thread across his heart, before you’re sucked in by the worried look in his brown doe eyes.

“Are you alright?”

You nod, stuttering when you try and speak, gesturing to the car behind you and then to the road. “I–the car, there was a–and then, the ice just sort of…”

The stranger straightens up, the warmth from his hands leaving you as he eyes you wearily, “You been drink driving?”

“What? No! God, no…I–I,” you take a deep breath, trying to compose the thoughts that were tumbling too fast out of your mouth. God, he was pretty. “After I realised I wasn’t going anywhere,” you point to the front of the car, barely visible from the snow piled around it, “I may have opened a bottle of rum to keep warm.”

He scoffs a little meanly, “You realise that’s not how it works right? You actually lose heat faster when you’re drunk.”

A tingling warmth crawls up your neck at his scolding and you shrug, “Well, I thought if I was gonna die I might as well do it with a good buzz.”

He squints at you, his stare stony and you can’t tell what you’ve done to warrant this level of offence from a total stranger. Was he helping you or not? “You’re not from around here are you?”

You straighten up reflexively, shoulders going back in defence, “What makes you say that?”

He gestures vaguely to all of you, “Well, apart from the fact that you ooze city girl,” you frown, “it’s a small town. I woulda remembered you if you grew up here.”

He didn’t say it with a smirk or a sly look at your body. You knew it wasn’t meant as a compliment. Not a ‘you’re so pretty I would’ve remembered you’ but a ‘you stand out in all the wrong ways’.

“Okay, um,” you look around and notice his truck parked behind him, disbelief painting your face when you turn back to him and take in the ‘Munson Motors’ patch on the other side of his name. “Would you be able to help me?”

He answers with a frown as if the question itself is offensive. He has a tow truck and you're stranded on the side of the road in below-zero conditions. Of course, he’s going to help you.

Eddie, goes straight to work hooking up your car to the back of his truck, pulling it out of the snowbank and parking off to the side of the road again as you stand out of the way and watch, shivering now that the freezing outside air has begun to sober you up.

When he jumps back out of the truck to check your car is secure, he clears his throat, speaking to you like he's continuing a conversation, “How long you been out here?”

Your breath catches in a cloud of condensation as you exhale. “What’s the time?”

He pulls back the blue fabric of his left sleeve to check his watch, “Quarter past six.”

“Oh, um…a couple of hours I think.” It had been 45 minutes.

He nods as he gives a chain one final tug. “Guess no one’s come past ‘cause it’d be dumb to drive around in these conditions.”

You had to hold back from reflexively rolling your eyes. Here comes the mansplain.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be driving without chains on your tires.”

You huff, “Well, it’s not my car and I was only popping out to the store to get some groceries…an–and I got lost and then a deer just–” You wave your hand across the road stumbling over your words as the stupidly pretty tow truck driver turns to you and raises his eyebrows. “Forget it.” You sighed, “Is the car gonna be alright?”

Eddie licks his bottom lip, his intense gaze starting to heat you up again as he slowly nods. “The car will be fine. I can drop you and it off if you’ve got an address for me in town.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

***

A sigh leaves you as the warmth of the truck cab engulfs you, the smell of tobacco and the black ice magic tree hanging from the rearview mirror, along with something woodsy surrounding you on the inhale.

“Where to?” Eddie plops himself into the driver’s seat, pulling out onto the road as you give him Robin’s parent's address.

The ride there is mostly quiet, aside from the low hum of a Black Sabbath song coming out of the speakers, and you get the feeling Eddie the tow truck guy doesn’t take well to city girls getting themselves into sticky situations on his roads. You’re starting to feel a little silly yourself as the rum buzz well and truly wears off. This was a little too damsel in distress-y for your liking. You were an independent woman for god sake, the best solution you could come up with was getting drunk before an incredibly well-timed, handsome local had to come to your rescue?

As soon as Eddie pulls up to the curb he’s jumping out of the truck, clearly not wanting to spend another minute in awkward silence. You were never really good at small talk.

It isn’t until the passenger side door slams behind you that you notice the yelling.

“Oh my god! I thought you were for sure dead!”

Robin almost knocks you onto the sidewalk when she slams into you.

“Oh, I was so worried! I kept telling my dad, I think I told her the wrong directions. I told you to turn right on Maple when you should have turned left–“Her arms flail about in the air as she rambles in a panic and you just smile at her.

“Rob, I’m fine. I got to the shops okay in the end, it was getting back that was the problem. Then this deer ran out in front of me and I lost control when I swerved.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I almost killed you. You haven’t even been in town a full day!” She squishes your cheeks in between her hands, and you laugh.

Once she’s satisfied that you’re okay, she turns to Eddie as he walks up to the both of you. “Thanks for bringing my girl back alive Munson.” Robin beams and you notice Eddie’s eyes darting between the both of you, things clicking into place before she tackles him with a hug.

“Nice to see ya Buckley.” You hear Eddie mumble something into Robin’s hair and she laughs.

Figures. He was that Eddie. The metalhead with a heart of gold. Fantasy nerd that you were “going to love.” Obviously, your mind hadn’t immediately associated the grumpy tow truck driver Eddie with the one you’d heard hundreds of stories about, the one that was supposed to be warm and quick to welcome outsiders. Maybe it was just you?

“The car’ll be fine. Might just take a little while to warm up next time you go to start it, but if you have any issues just drop it by the shop.” He speaks directly to Robin as if it were her that he’d just rescued from the side of the road.

She thanked him with an affectionate punch to the shoulder and you tried to catch his eye before he turned away.

“Thanks again, for uh–for your help.”

He just nods, eyes briefly making contact with yours before they flit away again and he walks back to his truck.

“Don’t let her get lost again. It’s only gonna get colder over the next week.” He shouts before he slams his door shut behind him.

You turn to Robin who’s cheerily waving him off.

“Cold-er? It gets cold-er?!”

***

5 Days 'Til Christmas

“This is ridiculous.” Condensation forms around your huffs of breath, Jack Frost nipping at the tip of your nose and cheeks as you pull your coat tighter around you, stumbling slightly on the icy ground.

“The only thing ridiculous is your dress sense.” Robin giggles, pausing to let you catch up with her, arm linking with your own as you cross the car park together.

“This is my favourite coat.” You pout.

She shakes her head, “I know it is. And I know how much it cost, but we need to get you something sturdier and some thermals or something.” Her free hand rubs the thin, expensive material on your shoulder.

“Maybe, we should just stop leaving the house.” You grumble, causing Robin to knock her shoulder against yours.

“C’mon! I know we’re meeting everyone in a couple of days, but when Steve told me Jonathan and Nance we’re going to be at the bar tonight as well I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity for you to meet the grown-ups first.”

“Aren’t the kids at college now?”

You’d learnt a lot about Robin’s chosen family over the years. Having met Steve multiple times when he came to visit her in the city and been regaled by countless stories of the trouble they’d all gotten up to in high school.

“Yeah, but they’re not legal drinking age yet and it’ll be much easier meeting everyone else without them around trust me.”

The Hideout definitely wasn’t anything like the bars you frequented in the city, and you couldn’t help thinking about where you were a week ago – an office Christmas party that involved two-hundred-dollar bottles of champagne and coke in the marbled bathrooms – as your weather inappropriate shoes found the sticky floor and your nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell, eyes wandering over the small crowd of mostly old men hunched over their half-empty drinks.

“Charming,” you murmur, Robin’s arm tightening its hold on you upon seeing her best friend waving at the both of you across the room.

“Hey dingus,” She ruffles Steve’s hair as you approach the group sitting around a small wooden table.

“Hey numbnut.” He was quick to push his hair back, everything but a lonely strand falling back into perfect place. Robin took an empty chair, while Steve captured you in a much-needed embrace, greeting you warmly and without a childish nickname.

He kept an arm around your shoulder as he introduced you to the three other occupants of the table. You shake Nancy and Jonathan’s hand, smiling at the way they held each other, but when you hold out your hand to their friend Argyle he just laughs and gets up to hug you with a “Come here my lil’ city slicker.” The scent of pineapple and pot clinging to you as you take a seat while Steve heads to the bar to get you and Robin a drink.

“Where’s Eddie?”

The pang that jolts you at Robin’s casual mention of her friend’s name is slightly concerning.

“He’s over there with the guys.” You follow Jonathan’s gesture to a group of boys standing next to a makeshift stage at the far end of the bar. A tousle of brown waves in a leather jacket stands with his back to you with three others dressed much the same, all drinking beer and laughing. You couldn’t see his face, but even from here you notice his shoulders look more relaxed than he was during your encounter yesterday.

Maybe you’d get to see the “warm” Eddie now that he wasn’t having to haul your car out of the snow.

Steve returns to your table with drinks and takes the seat next to you, reaching over your shoulders to pinch Robin when she complains about hers not having enough ice before letting his arm relax around you. Steve had seamlessly fit himself into your life when you first met just as he always did in any situation, and you knew that he could sense your nerves about meeting the rest of the group. You just hoped he didn’t pick up on any nerves about the presence of one in particular.

“Nice of you to join us Buckley.”

You tense as Eddie appears at the table and Steve squeezes your shoulder, smirking into his drink.

Never fucking mind.

“Oh my god, you guys I have to tell you all about Eddie’s hero moment yesterday!”

As Robin captures the attention of the group with a dramatic retelling of yesterday’s events, your eyes wander to your reluctant rescuer. He was yet to acknowledge your existence, only rubbing his neck and blushing when praise was thrown his way. His attention is mostly on Robin’s theatrics before it shifts, and you notice his gaze land on something by your shoulder. You look down at Steve’s hand still resting there and when you look back up your eyes catch shining, dark chocolate ones.

You’re the first to break the spell, eyes quickly landing on the table, unable to hold his intense stare.

When Robin finishes her story you excuse yourself to get another drink, having nervously gulped yours down already and you pass Steve on your way back to the table.

“Hey, can you give these to Eddie? He’s just outside. I need to take a leak, thanks.” He walks away quickly, leaving you with a packet of cigarettes in your hand.

***

Eddie stands with his back to you, leaning against the brick of the bar as you exit the swinging door, a blast of arctic air hitting you as you immediately wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey.”

He spins around at the sound of your voice.

“Uh, Steve said you needed to borrow a smoke?” You hold up the pack.

He stares at you for a second before he lifts an unlit cigarette in between his fingers.

“I’m all good. Bummed one off Gareth.”

You nod and shove the carton in your coat pocket.

“You smoke?”

“God no, I value my lungs. These are Steve’s.” You shake your head and Eddie raises his eyebrows, pausing in his motion to light the cigarette now pursed between his lips, the yellow flame from his scuffed bic lighter flickering in the chilled breeze.

He releases his thumb from the lighter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and frowning at it.

“So uh, I didn’t expect you and Buckley to show up tonight.”

You grip your coat tighter around you, it’s far too cold to be out here but you’re pleasantly surprised that he’s initiating conversation with you. “Oh yeah, Robin dragged me out of the house to come see some lame band. Personally, I think it’s too cold to do anything other than drink tea under a pile of blankets but–“

“Robin said they were lame?”

“What?”

“The band playing here tonight, she said they were lame?”

“No, she just mentioned that they’re here every Tuesday,” you look up at the neon signage hanging above the door, missing a ‘d’ with a barely flickering ‘o’ and shrug, “I figured–“

“Hey, Ed!” One of the boys Eddie had been standing with earlier pops his head out of the bar door, giving you a curt nod when you turn around. “You ready? We’re on in two.”

“Yeah, just give us a sec.”

The boy disappears back behind the door and you screw your eyes shut. Of course it was his band.

“Shit, Eddie I’m sor–“

“You always just say things without thinking?” His arms are crossed, eyes squinting at you in that offended disbelief that seemed to be reserved just for you and your big mouth.

You sigh, “Only around you apparently.”

You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch. “Why’s that city girl?”

The nickname could almost pass as a term of endearment, the way it comes out of him in a drawl if it wasn’t for your terrible first and second impressions preceding you.

You shake your head, “Never mind. I’m gonna–“ You point your thumb behind your shoulder, “Yeah,” and walk back inside before you manage to say anything else idiotic, Eddie grinning after your retreating form.

***

You watch Eddie thrash about on stage under the haze of a couple of shots, needing a little liquid courage before you could throw yourself back into socialising – at least you seemed to be getting along with the rest of the group.

His skin was glowing with sweat under the cheap yellow stage lights, leather jacket abandoned so you could now see the tattoos peaking out from under his tattered old band shirt. One that hugged his biceps as they flexed with the ferocity of his guitar playing. Holy shit.

When he jumps off stage and approaches his friends, you can’t take your eyes off the damp hair that sticks to his neck and forehead.

“You guys were amazing.”

He bows his head at your compliment. The two of you now slightly off to the side of the rest of the group as they figure out whose round it is. “Not lame then?”

“No,” you shake your head, “no, I shouldn’t have–that was shitty of me to judge without hearing you. To judge, full stop. I’m not like that normally. I know you think I’m just some city girl who’s completely out of touch but I’m just–I got a bit nervous about meeting you all and making a good impression for Robin. I’m sorry.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “S’nothin’ to apologise for. Not like we’re playing The Garden or anything.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You frown, “You’re great–I mean the band are great–I can tell that you all love playing up there no matter the audience. That’s what’s important.”

“Thanks.” His soft tone and doe eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You look away, burning up under his attention again.

“You’re welcome.”

“We’re playing pool now, I need you on my team c’mon.” Robin wraps her arms around you and drags you away before Eddie gets the chance to keep you talking.

***

“Wait, Steve! You’re not driving?” You cringe at Robin’s slurred volume as she shouts across the small car park, thankful this isn’t a residential area.

“Pfft no! I’ve had way too many. I’m going in Nance’s car.” She glares at her best friend as he follows Jonathan and Argyle, waving her off.

“How are we getting home?!” She raises her arms in exasperation and turns to you as if you’d be able to offer a solution, the creaking of the bar door opening behind you grabbing both of your attention as Eddie steps out. He stops short, car keys coming to a halt mid-swing when he notices eyes on him.

“Eddieeee.” Robin sing-songs, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. His eyebrow quirks up. “Fancy dropping off two gorgeous young girls and making sure they get home safe?” She leans her head into yours and you giggle.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah whatever, get in.”

Robin turns away abruptly to head towards his van, leaving you to stumble without the support, Eddie’s warm hands brace your arms before you even have time to think.

“You good?”

You nod, “Had a lot to drink.”

He huffs a laugh as you sway, breath stuttering when you look up at him, “Yeah, you did.”

The snow that falls around you two lands softly on your face, melting in your hair and on your eyelashes as you crinkle your nose.

“It’s so cold.”

He licks his bottom lip, “Right, right let’s get you home yeah?”

***

Despite Robin’s clumsy nature she always manages to stay light on her feet when she’s drunk. So, by the time Eddie pulls up to the Buckley residence she’s shooting out of the van, cackling at her own joke while you’re still trying to undo your seatbelt. Eddie tells you to stay still before he jogs to the passenger side and unhooks you, holding onto your arm as you step down onto the ground on wobbly legs.

“Where’s Robin?” You look around, the front yard frosted in snow that’s warmed by yellow fairy lights hanging around the edges of the house, but noticeably void of your charmingly sassy friend.

“She’s already inside. Here, let me get you to the door.”

His hands help steady you, guiding you to safety up the icy path, one stretching over your lower back the other holding your elbow. You hadn’t noticed his rings before now, silver glinting under the lights now directly above you as you walk up to the front porch. These hands adorned in skulls seemed to keep coming to your rescue. But you don’t need some hot tow truck, sexy guitarist guy coming to your rescue. You’re a capable, independent woman.

You feel Eddie’s breath on the back of your neck when he laughs softly.

“You think I’m sexy huh?”

You frown as you stop at the front door, shaking your head “What, why would you think that?”

“’Cause you just said it.”

“Out loud?!”

He snickers as you bury your face in your hands, “I have to stop drinking around you.”

Eddie bites his lip as you slip through the front door mumbling a good night and close it behind you without another glance at his smug face. He’s still smiling as he turns the ignition, the radio on low as Fairytale of New York fills his van with warmth. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head before pulling away from the curb, this fuzzy feeling in his chest not something that’s familiar to him.

“Fuck.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #towtruck!eddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #promptparty #she writes

283 notes · View notes

nickfowlerrr · 4 months

Text

darling, it's cold outside.

pairing: charles blackwood x curvy!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only. cockwarming. not foot fetish stuff but he does remove her heels for her? lol. pining. little bit of holiday blues mentioned but overall this is pretty fluffy. maybe like the littlest bit soft!dark if you squint.

notes: very happy to be writing for charles again, i've missed him. 🥹

inspired by this txt post, this is one of seven characters i’m writing this prompt of sorts for. thank you in advance for reading and as always, reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated. ❣️

"Mr. Blackwood," you call out as you walk down the empty hallway, your heels clacking on the marble flooring as you go, "I remade the guest bedroom like you asked. If there's nothing else for tonight, I was going to be heading home?"

You look into his open office as you pass, he's not there. Curious...

You continue down the hall, peeking into the study, then the tea room, and then the living room - none of which held him. The television in the living room was on, however, so you assumed he must be close by. But where?

Normally you find it difficult to get more than a few minutes alone from him when you're working, but now the man of the house is as elusive as your holiday spirit seems to be this year.

The pitter patter of the rain outside the castle captures your attention as you pass the grand window.

"Oh no," you sigh as you peer out into the dreary scene. The Christmas lights strung up outside appear blurry through the rain droplets on the glass as the sky grows darker with each moment that passes.

You were supposed to be out of here by 3pm, but Charles, for the first time since you'd started working for him, had many a qualm about your cleaning and tidyings today. You had to go over the bathrooms twice and were instructed to remake his bed before reattending to the guest room. It was nearing 5:30 now, and the rain you were hoping to avoid has clearly already begun - and if the weatherman was correct - would be staying long through the night.

It's not a terribly long walk home, but in your uniform, having to walk home in the rain is a less than ideal situation.

But you resign yourself to your fate as you turn from the window and continue on your search for your boss.

"Mr. Blackwood," you call again, "I'm about to be heading home."

As you finish your sentence, crossing in front of the lavish cranberry colored couch, you notice the throw blanket you had folded and put away earlier is now adorning the cushions. You think to check by the linen closet on the other side of the staircase - hoping to find him somewhere over there so he may dismiss you for the night.

You are about to leave the room when suddenly you hear the kettle whistle sharply from the kitchen. Your brows knit together as you stop in your tracks and turn back around to go toward the kitchen instead.

The sound of your heels as you walk informs Charles of your presence as you enter the room. He turns from the stove, having just moved the kettle from one burner to the other, and looks surprised to see you.

"Oh," he said, nonplussed, "you're still here?" His brow was raised as he looked at you.

You felt stumped yourself, standing blankly for a moment before blinking away your confusion. "Yes, I- I just finished remaking the guest bedroom like you asked," you stammered just slightly.

"Oh, perfect. Thank you. You really are an angel, you know that?" he praised, smiling that ever charming smile at you.

You couldn't help but return one of your own, eyes flicking down almost immediately, unable to hold his gaze.

You sucked in a breath, schooling your face as you looked back up. "Did you want to check it over?"

"No," he brushed off with a shake of his head, turning back to open the cabinet behind him, "I'm sure everything is in order. I trust you."

Your lips twitch as you hold back a disbelieving laugh. He seemed so concerned earlier...

"Alright. Well, if that's everything, Mr. Blackwood-"

"Charles," he corrects.

"...Charles," you amend, "if that was all, I was planning on heading out for the night."

"Of course," he agrees, turning to face you once again, with two mugs in his hands. "Do you have time for some hot chocolate, or will your ride be here soon?"

"Oh, I don't have a ride," you hide a grimace at the reminder of your lonesomeness. Well...maybe you could call a cab? But no, that short ride would just feel like a waste of your hard earned money. And anyway, Charles knows you walk to and from. He's chided you on it before. You'll never forget the way you warmed at his concern for you that first time. He had offered you a ride home, but you refused. It was a clear evening and there really was no reason for any fuss. But of course, his worry still made your heart flutter.

The mugs clink as they're set down on the counter, the sound brining you back to the room. "Sweetheart, it's raining. Supposed to only pick up, too. If you were planning on walking, I don't think that'd be a good idea."

The pet name has butterflies taking flight in your tummy as you work to tamp them down.

"It's not that far of a walk, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I must insist that you stay," he presses, your name sounding so nicely on his tongue. "Please. I would offer you a ride myself but I'm afraid my headlight blew out, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. The guest room would be yours and I could drive you home in the morning. Or, if you insist, the weather should be fairer by then - enough to walk if you really want."

"Oh, really, I would hate to inconvenience you, sir."

"Not at all," he assures you as he prepares both mugs of coco. "In fact, I think it'd be nice to have some company for the holiday. In a house this big, being alone can feel rather lonely."

You consider his words and can't help but agree. "It can feel much the same in a small home, too," you say with a bittersweet smile. "If you really don't mind, I'd be thankful to stay."

"And I'd be thankful for the company," he smiles back. "I was about to start a movie."

You trail behind him slowly as he leads the way back to the living room. When you get to the couch, he sets both mugs down on the coffee table as he gestures for you to sit.

"Please, get comfortable. You've been on your feet all day."

You don't argue and take your seat. The couch is as comfortable as it always looks and you can't help but sigh as you relish the feeling. You almost instinctively kick off your heels, but stop yourself right in time. Charles notices the twitch of your feet, however.

You hold in a gasp as he kneels down before you and takes hold of your foot. His eyes flash up to yours as you stare down at him, lips parted and breath stalled. He slips your heel off and squeezes your foot lightly before repeating the same to your other foot. No words are exchanged as he pops back up and walks to the television. He pushes a tape into the player before sauntering back over to you.

You want to lift a leg up underneath you but don't allow yourself to, especially not while you're in this skirt. Charles takes the spot beside you and you somehow go even more rigid at his proximity.

"I said get comfortable, darling," he chides, pulling you in closer to him, "I meant it."

You allow yourself to fall into his side, and then after a long second, slowly bring a leg up to get more comfortable beside him. Another long moment, and you bring your other leg up as well, repositioning yourself while you shimmy the littlest bit closer.

Charles is warm and the room is a bit cold, so you don't mind how close he actually is. Maybe more aptly, how close you are to him...

You try to focus on the opening scene of the holiday movie you've only heard of before, never actually having had the chance to see it. But as Charles leans over and grabs the throw he'd brought out earlier, he takes over your focus once again. He drapes the blanket over both of you before settling back, essentially right against you now.

Your heart is beating so loud, you're almost sure he can hear it if he listens close enough.

Charles wraps his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively scoot closer still, letting your head rest on his chest trepidatiously. He hums his approval as you do.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly, keeping the cozy and comfortable ambience in tact.

You're quiet, unsure of what to say. Does it feel okay? It feels like everything you've dreamed of since meeting the man. But is it okay? That you're not so sure of. Are you crossing a line? Is this a mistake?... Oh god, what are you doing? You can't lose this job!

You push yourself to sit up, pulling away from Charles as he looks at you, stunned by your haste.

"I- I'm so sorry, Mr. Blackwood. I don't know what's come over me. I should, I should go," you rush your words as you try to stand.

Try.

Charles' hand is on you in an instant, keeping you in place. You look at him with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. He says your name and you don't think to try and get up again.

"Darling, I don't know what you're apologizing for. If I've made you uncomfortable, I should be apologizing to you," he says. "...Have I? Made you uncomfortable?"

You stare into the hypnotic gaze of his cerulean blue eyes, taking in his words. It's a moment before you softly shake your head. "No," you nearly whisper. "No, you haven't." He nods, admiring your face as you peer at him.

"That's good. And, it's Ch-"

"Charles," you cut him off. "I know. Habit," you shrug lightly.

"One you'll hopefully come to break," he smirks. "So, back to my question," he pulls you closer, "Was that okay? Being that close to me?"

You nod meekly, "Yes."

"And was it okay that I put my arm around you?"

Another weak murmur as you unconsciously lean into him, "Yes."

"And just to be sure," he breathes, leaning closer into you in return, "do you really want to leave?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you shake your head. "No."

"One last question," he says as he brings a hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately as he urges you closer. You're nose to nose as he continues, "Would it be okay if I kissed you now?"

You smile softly, your lips brush his as you answer him. "Yes," you nod.

He pulls you in gently and your hand holds his to your face as he finally kisses you, so softly you swear you could melt into the cushions.

You murmur again into the kiss as your eyelids flutter shut. Without thinking, you deepen the kiss. You find your body moving without your permission as you pull yourself more into him - almost crawling along the cushions to get closer to him.

Charles doesn't stop you, in fact, he leans back further - pulling you along the way, moving you up his lap.

Your skirt stretches across your thick thighs as you are maneuvered by him onto his lap. You straddle him as his arms come around you, pulling you to be flush against him - his lips never stopping as he kisses you so completely, so passionately. The intensity only grows more fervent as you return the desire in kind.

You mindlessly move your hips against his and he moans at the feeling. The sound of his pleasure is music to your ears and serves to get you even more worked up. You can feel the slickness as it grows between your thighs. And as you rock your hips again, you can feel Charles' excitement, too.

He is hard beneath you, his erection growing more and more prominent with each second.

"Mhm," you mewl against his lips, breaking for a breath, "Charles," you sigh - rocking once more. The friction sending a wave of sparking pleasure through you.

"Does that feel good for you, angel?" he asks, hands grabbing your hips.

You nod helplessly, "Feels so good."

He kisses you again, harder this time as he holds you in place on his lap. "I know what would feel even better," he says huskily.

He reaches for the button of his slacks and you bite your lip, a few nerves building now. You pull away from him ever so slightly as he begins to undo his pants.

"Um, Charles," you nearly whisper, waiting for a response you don't get.

You watch with heavy lidded eyes and parted, pouted lips as he pulls his straining cock from his briefs. You almost feel frozen for a second before one of his hands comes up and buries itself between your thighs. You yelp, squeaking at the touch.

"Charles, I don't know if we should-"

"Oh, sweetheart, don't worry," he hushes you. You gasp with a tremble and a light moan as his deft fingers slide up and along your clothed sex. You tilt your hips as he feels along your cunt and don't stop him when he moves your underwear to the side.

His eyes are trained on your face, he watches as it contorts with the beginning sparks of your pleasure under his touch. His dick is throbbing, on the verge of starting to leak for you.

He can't wait any longer, he's waited so long already. He needs to have you around him. Needs to feel your warmth envelope him and your weight as you sit on him. He doesn't even need to go all the way with you - not tonight. He just wants to feel you.

His tongue slips past his pillowy lips as he grips himself with one hand, guiding his red tip to your tight, slick entrance. He presses against you but you slightly back away - still unsure.

"I just want to feel you, angel. That's all. I promise. Just need you to sit down and that'll be it. Just sit right here and keep me warm for a bit. You can do that, can't you, darling?"

A sigh of relief escapes you as you slacken a bit into him. You can do that, you decide. You nod your head and bring one of your hands to his shoulders. He presses against you again and this time you move into him. You whine at the sting of his intrusion as he helps ease you down onto his length a little at a time. When you are fully seated, you drop your head into the crook of his neck as one of his hands rubs your back.

"Fuck, doesn't that feel nice?" he asks, voice breathy. You only nod against him as your walls stretch around his cock, squeezing him every so often.

"Yes," you huff, "Oh, it feels so nice, Charles."

He pulls you from his neck, brushing his nose against yours as he brings you face to face with him again.

"I knew we'd be a perfect fit," he smirks, kissing you hotly as you press yourself closer to him, returning his kiss.

"I said the guest room was yours, but there's room enough for two in my bed if you'd rather," he simpers.

"I think I just might rather," you whisper with a smile against his lips. You move to sit up but are immediately pulled back down onto his cock. You moan deeply at the movement, the drag of his length along your walls and the way your walls work to keep him inside of you. To be fair, you aren't the most experienced woman in the world, but the feeling of him is unlike anything you've ever felt before. You are entirely full of him and you fear you won't want to ever go empty again.

"Not just yet, sweetheart," he laughs, holding you down. "We aren't even halfway through the movie yet. And we have all night before we take this upstairs, angel. I want to make sure this is a Christmas we'll always remember."

#charles blackwood x curvy!reader #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood #charles blackwood fic #charles blackwood smut #charles blackwood fluff #sebastian stan characters #charles blackwood x you #charles blackwood x y/n

236 notes · View notes

mysticallystilinski · 4 months

Note

does it work if I send you a prompt and you choose who it best suits??

“ you’re always there. i didn’t used to see it before, but i do now. every time i’ve ever needed someone, you were there. ”

COMFORT [ stiles x fem!reader ]

desc. STILES ADMITS HIS FEELINGS ON A CHILLY NIGHT AFTER COMING HOME DRUNK TO HIS BESTFRIEND

has : tw: emetophobia (gagging and hurling), some angst, major fluff, stiles being the cutest babygirl ever,

it was a cold december night, specifically christmas eve. you and your best friend stiles were about hanging out because sheriff stilinski was at work, and your parents were on vacation. the plan was to have a star wars marathon, accompanied with some popcorn and candy.

the blankets were all set out as you waited for stiles to arrive. you heard a loud knock on your door, it was 30 minutes earlier than his planned arrival. you headed off the couch and made your way to the front of the house. as soon as your hand grabbed the knob, the door flung open.

in came a drunk and stumbling brown haired boy. stiles was known for being a light weight, but this has never happened. “stiles, what the hell. are you drunk?”, you yelled. he looked up at you before running through the house. he took a lap around it and then came back to you. “sseee i’m- i’m not drunkkk”, he slurred.

he laughed and gave you a big hug. you sighed in exasperation as he clung to you. his hands found their way to your lower back. for a quick second you felt butterflies, but instantly brushed them away as you began to hear stiles gagging. it must’ve been the alcohol, so he rushed to your bathroom in a flash.

he almost knocked you over while running, but soon made it to the toilet. you heard hurling and gasping for air. you stifled a chuckle as you made your way over to him. by the time you walked there, he was almost all the way passed out onto the floor. his position was so funny that you had to take out your phone for a picture.

the camera clicked as the flash went on, and awakened him from his slumber. “heyy, i do not consent to that”, he giggled while pushing himself up to a sitting position. you headed over the shoes on the ground, and sat on the edge of your tub. stiles back was pressed up against the wall, as he stared into your eyes.

you couldn’t tell if he was zoning out, or just making heavy eye-contact. he mumbled something, but you couldn’t make out what exactly it was. “what did you say stiles?”, you laughed. he put his head down and mumbled again. you brushed it off as it may have not been that serious. stiles on the other hand continued to repeat himself.

“y/n, you’re always there”, he said. your eyes widened as he made that statement. you went to talk, but he interrupted you. “i didn’t used to see it before, but i do now. every time i’ve ever needed someone, you were there.” tears swelled up in his eyes, and his voice cracked at the last word. “what made you think that stiles?”, you whispered.

you and stiles have been best-friends, and never more. lydia was the one in his life that he has had a crush on for years. you have always had that one thought in your mind thinking more of him, but never expected anything to happen.

stiles lifted up his head and stared into your eyes. “i- i don’t know, i’ve just felt like i needed to say that”, he spoke sappily. you couldn’t tell if it was drunk stiles making moves, or sobered up stiles. “i don’t know if i can handle this right now stiles”. you got off the bathtub only to be grasped down onto stiles lap.

“please don’t leave,” he said while whispering in your ear. your stomach began to make knots. ‘don’t do this right now’, you thought. you tilted your neck up to look at him. he suddenly leaned in and placed his lips upon yours. they still tasted like alcohol. he used his hand to run his fingers through your hair.

you kissed him back passionately and slowly. his hands lowered from your hair to you waist. you slowly pulled back and lifted yourself up. “i’m gonna go get some towels, and water”, you spoke. he nodded in reply. you quickly ran out of the bathroom and to your closet. you grabbed a bright red towel, and got some water out of the kitchen.

heading back to the bathroom, you heard some noises. they sounded almost like groaning, but you couldn’t make it out exactly. you stopped in the doorway to find a sat up stiles, sleeping. his mouth was slightly open, and he was snoring soundly. you placed the towel and water upon the sink, and went to sit next to him.

you lowered your body from the air to the wall. once you hit the floor, stiles head fell upon your shoulder. you heard his little gasps for breath through his snoring. he laid there in silence as you slowly closed your eyes. you quickly felt very tired, and put your head on top of stiles. you drifted to sleep as stiles snores soothed you.

280 notes · View notes

veryberryjelly · 5 months

Text

chamonix

pairing : dick grayson x reader

prompt : christmas shopping

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲

with a lot of family and friends, christmas shopping could be one of the most hectic and chaotic things ever.

especially when the only day you were free to do it was a saturday.

when the world decided to crowd shopping malls and walk slowly to infuriate people.

but your trip so far hadn't been too stressful, until you were forced to separate from dick to buy his gift and for him to go and buy yours.

you had made the plan before you even left the house to buy family and friends gifts together, get lunch and then separate and that was exactly what you had done, and it was how you ended up walking through the mall in utter turmoil, unsure of what to get the most important person in your life.

you would think after being together for two and a half years that you wouldn't struggle every time you had to get him a gift but you did.

every time.

3 birthdays and 2 holiday seasons and every time you struggled.

you had been trying your best to think of anything you could get him that he would actually like, because you knew you could give him a sweater or something and he would say he liked it because it was you.

but you wanted to actually give him something he could like without including sympathy in the decision.

and because dick always got you an incredibly thoughtful gift you wanted to get him something just as thoughtful and that he would like just as much as you liked the things he had given you.

after 30 minutes of struggling you finally picked something out for him, setting it under the other things you had bought so he couldn't get a look at it through the top of the bag.

---

you had been nervous about the gift you had gotten dick since you bought it, but now that you were finally going to give it to him, you were even more nervous about it.

you two had made a lot of plans for christmas day.

you were going to spend the morning with each other and then head to the tower for lunch with everyone else.

after waking up and making coffee & tea, you settled comfortably on your couch with each others gifts set on the coffee table.

dick presented you with a box which you unwrapped to find three baking books you had had your eye on for a while, two of which were signed by the author which you thought was amazing.

you were already making plans to bake tomorrow morning, if not to thank dick with it, then to show your appreciation for the books.

you held on tightly to the hardbacks when dick started pulling his gift from the bag.

at the mall you had only bought him a thermal fleece sweater, but at the bottom of the bag was his actual gift.

" what is this ?" he asked, more stunned than confused.

" that is two tickets for 6 days at a cabin in Chamonix. thought i could finally teach you how to ski " you explained, a nervous smile on your lips.

you hoped he liked it but there was always the possibility he would hate it.

he didnt say anything, instead quietly moved your books from your lap as to not damage them and leapt onto you, causing you to laugh as he pushed you back against the couch.

his face buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered kisses onto your bare skin.

" i love it, thank you... you didnt have to do this, baby " he said, pulling back from your neck to look at you.

" this isn't only for you. i'm coming too, and i get to embarrass you with all of the photos "

----------

@jambo-rat

174 notes · View notes

frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 5 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 11 - Animated Holiday Movies & Pop/Alt Christmas Songs

y'all mind if i use all the movies and one of the songs from today's prompt? no? okay cool

pairing: steddie | word count: 1,612 | rated: G

“Alright Munson, it’s time to get you in the holiday spirit.” Steve says, pushing him down onto his own couch one Sunday in mid December. “I managed to grab Charlie Brown from work, and Rudolph, The Grinch, and Frosty will be on CBS tonight.”

“Damn alright, no need to get pushy.” Eddie grumbles, crossing his arms in front of him. He’s not looking forward to this, alright? He’s definitely going to get a stomachache.

“Pizza will be here in just a few minutes, Rudolph starts in 30, then The Grinch and Frosty are right after the other,” he’s pacing now, “I’ve got pop and beer, and chips, and leftover cookies—I’ve got to make more soon don’t I—”

“Steve, Stevie!” Eddie grabs his wrist as he passes in another line of worried pacing in front of the couch. “You gotta calm down sweetheart, why are you makin’ such a fuss?” Maybe if he ignores it, Steve won’t notice the pet name that slipped out from between his lips.

Steve heaves a sigh, “Yeah, yeah you’re right.” he drops down beside him, the couch protesting with a creak, “I just want you to have fun, I suppose.”

Eddie pats Steve’s shoulder comfortingly, “How’d you get all this set up anyway, where’s Wayne?”

Eddie had woken up in the late evening when he heard a crash from the kitchen followed by low swearing. Coming out in his ratty sweatpants and no shirt to Steve sweeping up a bowlful of pretzels back into a large mixing bowl in the middle of his kitchen was quite a sight, but before he could fully process, a green Hawkins Swim Team hoodie was shoved over his head, a hairtie pressed into his palm, and the rest of him being 'shoo'-ed into the living room and onto the couch.

His Uncle’s foldaway bed and his Uncle were missing from where they should be in the small family room, Wayne normally didn’t wake up until about now to get ready to head into work.

Steve shrugs, getting back up off the couch to go back into the kitchen, “When I asked him if I could borrow you for a movie marathon, he insisted I have it here. He’ll be back soon,”

“‘Back soon’? Shouldn’t he be sleeping right now?”

Eddie watches as Steve fiddles around in the kitchen for a few moments, picking up the previously be-floored bowl of pretzels and dumping it into the trash can, when the front door opens and Wayne enters with two pizza boxes balanced on one hand.

“Wayne?”

“Come grab these, will ‘ya Ed?”

Eddie shoots up at once, hopping over the low coffee table to grab the boxes while Wayne takes off his boots and Steve shuffles around them to pay the delivery boy standing on their porch.

The boxes are taken from him only a couple moments later, with Steve bringing them back into the kitchen.

Wayne snaps him back to himself with a hand on his shoulder. “Y’alrigh’ Ed?”

“Wayne. I can’t watch Christmas movies with him.” he says lowly, only to his Uncle. It’s one thing to make cookie cutters with him, but watching some of Maggie Munson’s favorite holiday movies is a whole ‘nother one thing altogether.

Wayne’s crinkled face smoothes out minutely. “Yes y’can, son. I’ll b’here too.”

“Don’t you have work tonight?”

“I swapped shifts with Roger so I could hang out with you boys.” Wayne says at a normal volume, fixing Eddie with a look.

Eddie’s eyes prick with the threat of tears.

That look says “I swapped so I could be here for you.”

“Wayne said he loves Christmas movies!” Steve grins, carrying back two plates with three slices each.

“Didn’ realize they were showin’ all these good’uns tonight!” Wayne says, stepping past them toward the hall, “‘Scuse me boys,”

While his uncle changes out of his coveralls and into his own comfy clothes (which will likely be a flannel and worn Levis), Steve shoves one of the plates of pizza into Eddie’s hands and leads him back to the couch.

He sets the other plate on the side table next to Wayne’s chair, and goes back to the kitchen for a third plate and three beers, all three gripped around their necks in one hand.

“You’re gonna love these, Eds.” Steve plops down beside him, “Charlie Brown is my favorite, but they’re all classics at this point right? That’s why they show them every year.”

Eddie gulps and puts down his plate of pizza on the coffee table. Putting on a brave face, he pulls his hair up into a bun at the back of his head.

“Forgive me if I’m skeptical, Stevie, but let’s get on with it, huh?”

Eddie has fun in the end, that pioneer man with the pickaxe in Rudolph reminds him of Wayne, so it doesn’t surprise him that he’s Wayne’s favorite.

A lot of the tunes and storylines are familiar, of course, it wasn’t like he can wipe the same movies from his mind just because mom is gone, but it was nice to see them again with Wayne and Steve by his side (though Wayne’s been sawing logs from the armchair since even before Rudolph was over).

By time A Charlie Brown Christmas is re-wound and put back in its case, Eddie is bushed. It’s only been a couple hours total that they’ve spent watching, these movies are shorter than he thought, but he’s stuffed full of pizza, beer, and nearly the whole (new) bowl of pretzels he inhaled during their little marathon.

He stretches out on the couch when Steve gets up to clear their plates away and swears he only closes his eyes for a second…only to wake up to the early morning light streaming in through the window behind the TV.

There’s a blanket tucked around him, another is thrown over Wayne (still keeping up with his very astute impression of a chainsaw), and Steve’s Nike’s are missing from the pile next to the door.

He snuggles back down into the cushions and promises to thank Steve later today.

Later today comes after their Hellfire meeting; the party stomps up Mike Wheeler’s stairs from the basement and trickle out the door at 8 o’clock sharp to their respective rides (a stipulation of the Wheelers and the Sinclairs if their boys would still be allowed to be in Hellfire after what happened in March).

Punctual as ever, Steve is already sitting in the Wheeler’s driveway waiting for Dustin and Will. Eddie immediately starts towards the maroon beemer but his steps falter when he hears the music that’s absolutely blasting inside the idling car.

“This yeaarr, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special..” Eddie hears Steve singing along to that accursed new Wham! track, and not just singing along to the lyrics, but vocalizing the instrumentals too.

He manages to get to the driver side window without Steve noticing him, his attention on a book of Sudoku puzzles of all things.

“Knock knock! Earth to Stevie!” Eddie calls, rapping his knuckles on the pane of Steve’s window.

Steve, of course, jumps at the sudden noise, and cranks down the sound along with his window. Well, lowers his window. Stupid BMW with its stupid power windows..

“Jesus Christ, Eddie, you scared the shit outta me.”

“Not my fault you’re not aware of your surroundings, Stevie darling.”

Steve grins up at him, “How was the game?”

“The session was good, I was thiiiis close to killing off Dusty,” Eddie says, holding up his pointer and thumb, nearly pressed together to accentuate his point, “But Will the Wise here saved his ass at the last second.”

“And Dorngar the Monk will be forever grateful.” Speak of the Devil.

“Dorngar the Monk better watch himself next time.” Will says, shaking his head.

Will climbs into the backseat and scoots to the middle of the bench to start going through a play-by-play of the session with Dustin, who gets in the passenger side and kneels backward on the leather seat immediately.

Steve only rolls his eyes at the two of them, his lips curved into a fond smile still turned towards Eddie.

“Hey, I wanted to say thanks, by the way.” Eddie says, leaning his weight onto the roof of the car with his forearm.

Steve’s brows furrow immediately. “For what?” “For last night? I had fun. Surprisingly.”

“You’re welcome, Eds.” Ah good, the smile is back. “Did you sleep good on the couch? I was going to take you into your room before I left, but you looked comfy enough.”

“Oh yeah, I slept like a baby.”

Steve chuckles, “I don’t think a baby could sleep through your uncle’s snores.”

“I did! My mom used to take me over to Wayne’s whenever I’d get too fussy to sleep normally.”

“That’s hilarious!” Steve guffaws, “I can definitely picture it: your uncle asleep in that same chair? Little baby Eddie laid out sound asleep in his lap? Ha!”

“That’s about how it was,” Eddie grins, thinking of that exact picture his mom had taken during one such visit, the one in the fading photo album tucked away in his closet.

“Dudes, stop fucking around, we gotta get home!” Dustin gripes.

Eddie steps back from the window, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m leavin’ too, be careful getting these assholes home, Stevie.”

“You too, Eds, watch out for deer.”

Eddie’s heart stutters at the simple phase, the same one he’d asked Wayne why he would always say that every time he and mom left his place.

Wayne had just smirked, “Don’tcha know Ed? That’s midwestern for ‘I love you.’.”

to anyone outside the midwest: yes, that's a real thing and also watch out for deer on your way home <3

172 notes · View notes

spielzeugkaiser · 1 year

Note

please can we get the first time Milek rides a horse?

This may not be the very first time, but it's one of Mileks earliest memories! Jaskier borrowed the horse exactly for the reason of letting Milek enjoy it - I think Jaskier isn't the most experienced rider, and he doesn't like it THAT much.

#I feel like this might be Valdos horse and I have no idea why I thought that - that or one of his employers #Jaskier #geraskier lovechild #the witcher #30 minutes christmas prompts #(yes this was again a little bit longer but not toooo much)

1K notes · View notes

sparkle-fiend · 1 year

Text

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

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

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

“What if it hadn’t been me calling?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See ya.”

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

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

“Shit,” he mutters.

***

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

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

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

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

“Alright… what can I do to help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

"Shit," he mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s unbearable.

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

It’s Steve. It’s gotta be.

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

883 notes · View notes

yawnzzznnn · 5 months

Text

☆Up All Night - Bang Chan☆

☆Special thanks too: Anon, Bang Chan, Stray Kids

☆Note: I'm so sorry again I thought it'd have more free time sense everyone is focused on the holidays but due to personal matters this is coming out late but thank you Anon I hope you have an amazing Christmas (first post messed up)

☆TW: kissing :

☆Taglist: @mxlly143 - @jisvngc0re1

☆Prompt: Slow Dancin' & Romancin'

12-13-23

Listening to Christmas music in the background as you watched the snow fall out the window, waiting for your boyfriend, Chan to come back home from practice, you weren't sure how long you spent at the window, too lost in your own thoughts.

Focused on the outside you didn't hear Chan open the front door, or call out for you, he walked into the living room semi worried, all his worries and thoughts washed away as he seen you sitting next to the window, wrapped in a big fluffy blanket a cup of hot cocoa next to you, soft holiday music playing in the back, quickly pulling out his phone, he snapped a picture of you setting it as his wallpaper he finally walked up to you.

Putting his hand on your shoulder, slightly scaring you "oh, I'm sorry" he giggled finding your reaction cute, your shocked expression faded into a soft warm smile, "I was waiting for you" you said softly offering him a drink of your cooled hot cocoa, "but it's so late" he sighed looking at the time, "I told you not to stay up this late anymore, even if it's waiting for me you'll rot your brain" Chan chuckled lightly tapping the top of your head.

"How rich coming from someone who doesn't even know the meaning of sleep" you joked, Chan laughed, pulling you up by your arm, "what, no I sleep way more than you do" Chan laughed, your eyes slightly widened as you laughed in disbelief "mhm and those suit cases under your eyes are enough proof of that" you said calling him out, Chan faked offence putting his hand over his heart.

"You've wounded me" he said in a dramatic tone, giggling you decided to play along "oh no, how ever shall I fix what I've done" you said pretending to think, Chan laughed wrapping his arms around your waist, swaying you with him to the beat of the Christmas song.

The two of you swayed for almost 30 minutes enjoying each other's presence, sharing kisses every now and then, when you looked at Chan and noticed somehow between now and the last kiss you shared has fallen asleep, you smiled as his head lulled on to your shoulder as more of his bodyweight went on to you, eventually he became to heavy so you unfortunately woke him up, making sure he was awake enough to make it to the bed and sleep there.

108 notes · View notes

gunnerfc · 4 months

Text

🎄WOSO FICMAS: Dec. 19 - Stina Blackstenius🎄

Stina Blackstenius x Reader (Arsenal & USWNT) | WC: 751

Dec. 19 prompt - getting snowed in

-> all translations from google!

-> woso ficmas masterlist can be found here!

You were excited to be spending Christmas in Sweden with Stina and her family, having spent the last Christmas in America with your family. The two of you have spent the past two days packing, wanting to make sure you didn’t forget anything essential or anyone’s presents.

You planned to leave for the airport in the morning, wanting to arrive in Sweden a few days before the holiday to have more time to spend in the country. With packing done and bags by the door ready to go bright and early, you and your blonde girlfriend both exhausted from running around all day decided to go to bed a bit earlier, opting to get as much sleep as possible.

It was around 6:30 am when your alarm went off, signaling it was time for you to get up. With a tired groan, you reached for your phone, trying to turn the annoying alarm off. You smiled down at your sleeping girlfriend, hating to have to wake her up.

You lifted your hand to move a piece of blonde hair from her face, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on her forehead before whispering her name a few times. Your smile grew as you watched her eyes finally flutter open.

“god morgon min älskade (good morning, my love),” you whispered, your voice still heavy with sleep.

“god morgon älskling (good morning, darling),” Stina whispered back, sitting up to give you a quick kiss.

The blonde sat up fully to stretch her arms before getting up to go get ready for your day of travel. You watched her the whole time, You're sure you looked like the human version of the heart eyes emoji. When the bathroom door closed, you picked up your phone to double-check your check-in time at the airport. Instead of a flight confirmation, you were met with a cancelation, the reason saying “weather-related cancelation.”

With wide eyes, you shot up from your bed, moving to look out the window. Pulling back the curtains that kept the light out, you were now looking at the ground heavily coated in snow and it continuously falling from the sky with no sign of stopping.

“Babe!” you shouted, eyes still wide in shock over the amount of snow that had fallen while you were asleep. You had checked the weather the night before, not seeing anything about potential snowfall. The bathroom door flew open, your girlfriend’s eyes just as wide as yours.

“Vad?! (what?!)” Stina’s voice full of concern.

“I don’t think we’re going to Sweden,” you mumbled, eyes still trained on the white-covered yard.

You heard your girlfriend mutter a quiet “what” as she walked to the window, coming face to face with the snow. You held up your phone to show her the cancellation of your flights. These fights were found last minute and with no idea of when the snow would be melting, you doubted you would be spending Christmas in Sweden after all.

As you watched your girlfriend’s eyes scan your phone, you saw her bite her lip in an effort to stop tears from forming in her eyes. You pulled the phone from her hands, tossing it on the bed and pulling the blonde into your arms.

“Jag är ledsen, älskling. (I’m sorry, darling/babe.)” you said softly, knowing how much Stina was looking forward to going home for the holidays with you.

Stina pulled away from your body, giving you a small smile and a whispered “it’s okay.”

The Swede moved to get her phone from where it was plugged up on her nightstand, leaving the bedroom to call her family to let them know about the change of plans. You could hear the sadness in her voice as she spoke over the phone. You might not have been able to go to Sweden for Christmas but you were determined to bring ‘Christmas in Sweden’ to London.

You spent the rest of the day googling different Christmas traditions and even texted your other two Swedish Arsenal teammates to get their opinions. You spent the rest of the days leading up to Christmas making sure that your girlfriend felt at home as much as possible. And when Christmas morning rolled around, you made sure to get up first to video call Stina’s family. It wasn't the same as actually being in Sweden but Stina was grateful for the effort you put in to cheer her up. The two of you could always go next year.

#woso x reader #woso #awfc x reader #swewnt x reader #stina blackstenius x reader #stina blackstenius

93 notes · View notes

kookygranger · 4 months

Text

Fairytale of Hawkins: Part Two

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A cheesy hallmark Christmas fic inspired by @bettyfrommars's tow truck!Eddie and prompts #1 & #6 from Betty and @allthingsjoeq's Holiday Prompt Party

Summary: A petting zoo, Secret Santa and mistletoe never being around when you need it.

Warnings: reader doesn't have family, reader and Eddie are in their late 20s/early 30s, swearing

Word count: 5.3k

Author's note: Okay, it's 11:54pm on Christmas Eve where I am and this is far from perfect, but I wanted the people who enjoyed the first part to have this for Christmas so here it is. I hope you're all safe and you get moments of peace and joy these holidays.

Part One

You were handsome You were pretty, Queen of New York City When the band finished playing They howled out for more – Fairytale of New York, The Pogues/Kirsty MacColl

3 Days 'Til Christmas

“So uh, what’s goin’ on with you and Robin’s friend?”

Hawkins town centre is frosted with a light dusting of snow that fell in the early morning hours. Picture perfect, like a Hallmark Christmas card. The hum of festive cheer in the crowds doing last-minute gift shopping and partaking in the charming small-town seasonal activities is mostly drowned out by an argument between Dustin and Lucas, Max and the younger Sinclair sibling rolling their eyes in annoyance. They sit, impatiently waiting for the rest of the party to show up, on the edge of the fountain frozen over with the cold snap that swept through town at the beginning of the week.

Steve’s perched on the back of a bench a few feet away, ignoring the squabble as Eddie toes the ground in front of him.

“First of all, I know you know her name. And B, nothing is going on, she’s a great girl and a really good friend to Robin.” Steve shrugs, “We both told you you’d like her.”

Eddie squints, his leather jacket opening to reveal a dark red sweater as his pocketed hand gestures in question, “Why me specifically?”

Steve shrugs again, “Rob and I both thought you’d hit it off. It just feels…right. Don’t you think?”

“I mean yeah, yeah she’s beautiful. Cute as hell when she gets flustered. But she’s a city girl–used to more than this, right?” He looks around at the small-town square, filled with little kids dressed in matching sweaters and flustered mothers pushing prams with clenched smiles. “She’ll be gone well before the ice on the road thaws.”

“So? What’s wrong with having a little holiday fling?”

Eddie sucks his teeth, “I don’t think I can.”

Steve lets out a low whistle, “You’re that head-over-heels already?”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head, cheeks flushing pink from more than just the bite to the wind, then sighs. “Think if I have a fling I might just get there though. This is Robin’s fault she shouldn’t’ve talked her up so much!” Steve chuckles at his friend’s distress. “Doesn’t help that she looks like a damn angel when the snow’s kissing her eyelashes.”

Steve rubs his face, “Jesus Christ.”

***

You and Robin had vowed to hold off drinking for the rest of the holidays after your night at The Hideout, which was followed by a day spent on the couch, groaning about loud noises as Gremlins beamed across the TV in the darkened living room. When you’d finally managed to peel yourselves away from the nest you’d made out of blankets, large diet sodas and greasy fries from the drive-thru, you decided to cross off making Christmas cookies from Robin’s list of “holiday activities that could make the grinch’s heart grow.” She assured you weren’t the Grinch in this situation but it certainly felt, pointed.

The misshapen sugary treats weigh down your tote bag as you walk arm-in-arm with Robin towards the designated meeting spot.

“I keep making a fool of myself in front of Eddie.”

Robin smirks, “You’re doing fine.”

“I can just be so,” you hold out your hand in a vague gesture and grimace, “sometimes, you know?”

Robin laughs, “Oh, I know.”

“Thanks.”

She squeezes your arm that’s wrapped around hers and shakes her head, “Everybody loves you I promise. And if they don’t yet, they will.” You both round a corner, the fountain and a group of animated college kids coming into view. Steve waves from across the street, Eddie turning his head in your direction then away again quickly when you make eye contact.

“Right.”

***

“C’mon now everyone keep up.” Steve claps his gloved hands together, his cheeks pink and his brows furrowed in faux admonishment as he leads the group towards the petting zoo set up for the weekend in the parking lot of Bradley’s Big Buy supermarket. You can tell by the glisten in his eyes how much it means to him to have all of his found family in one place.

You laugh softly when he claps Dustin on the back and the younger boy tries to shrug off his embrace.

“He’s in his element this time of year.” Eddie falls into stride next to you, the both of you now bringing up the rear of the boisterous group.

You nod, a small smile permanently etched on your face from the company. “I can tell.” You walk the rest of the way in silence, watching the antics of the strange mix of personalities in front of you with a distant bemusement as you tried and failed to come up with something to say. Had you called him sexy at one point the other night or did you dream that?

The stench of hay and something less savoury wafts over you as you all enter the car park under a bright red banner with ‘Petting Zoo’ written in white cursive on it. You’re about to ask Eddie if they did this every year when a middle-aged woman stops you with a brochure held out in front of you.

“Have you found Jesus?” She’s standing by the entrance in a matching woollen navy-blue coat and skirt, heels on her stocking-clad feet and hair quaffed perfectly in a bob accentuated by the pearls on her ears and neck.

You don’t even think about your response before it slips out, “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise he was missing.” You can see Eddie smirk out of the corner of your eye. It was just meant to be a light-hearted joke, but the woman clearly didn’t see the humour.

She purses her lips in a thin line and snatches the brochure back out of your reach. “I should’ve known you were one of his type.” You keep walking along, her voice changed back into a sweeter version as she asks the next person the same question behind you.

You turn to Eddie, his eyes downcast and shoulders higher than they were a second ago. “What type are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck underneath the black knitted scarf that matches his beanie. “Uh, devil worshipper according to this town.”

“Oh, I’m actually lapsed. Found all that sacrificing was getting in the way of my day job you know?”

The smile that catches at the corners of his mouth makes your tummy flip.

“I know whattya mean.” He nods, all dramatics with his feigned seriousness, “So much laundry with all those blood-stained clothes.”

“Right? Such a hassle.” You both laugh as you look at each other. “Do they actually think that?”

Eddie shrugs, “It was worse when I was in high school, but I still get the odd bit of holy water thrown in my direction.”

“Why?” You shake your head and frown, serious this time. “Just because you listen to Motorhead?”

“That and I was the leader of the Dungeons and Dragons club in high school. It’s a game for nerds really, but it kinda got swept up into the satanic panic that was going around at the time.”

“That’s so…dumb.”

He huffs a laugh through his nose, watching your feet walk in sync together. “Yeah, I guess it is.” His head snaps back up, “Wait, how do you know Motorhead?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You bump his shoulder and scoff, “Did you just judge a book by her cover Eddie the devil worshipper?” He opens his mouth to speak but his reply is cut off by an animalistic snort that has your head turning in curiosity. You gasp as you spot the furry brown creatures leaning into patting hands over a wooden fence, “They actually do have reindeer here!”

Eddie grins as your face lights up. “Did you think they were lying?”

You shake your head, “I thought they’d just be regular deer. I’ve never seen–“ You grab Eddie’s leather-clad arm in your excitement and he looks down at your touch before you bound off towards Robin who’s laughing at your reaction.

El and Max have to coax you into actually patting one when you get closer, the antlers much more intimidating in person. They giggle as you squeal and pull back your hand when a cloud of condensation escapes from the deer’s nostrils as it huffs loudly.

You turn to laugh with them, distracted as the reindeer leans in closer, your body tensing when you feel its hot breath on the back of your neck before it snatches your scarf from around your shoulders. The girls yell as you whip around to see it trot off, barely processing what just happened when you feel a warm hand on your back, Eddie’s frame coming into view as he slips past you and jumps the fence. He’s able to grab the scarf out of the creature’s mouth and sneak back onto your side of the fence before anyone who works there even notices.

You’re speechless as he hands your scarf back to you, El and Max cheering along with Robin and Nancy who’d noticed the commotion.

The younger girls are giggling again when Max interrupts the silent look you and Eddie share while the scarf is held in between the both of you. “You’re a real knight in shining armour this week Munson.” He looks up at Max as she and El walk away, looking for their boyfriends to ask if they’d brave a reindeer pen for them.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You take the scarf from his hands, grimacing at the wet patch on the light fabric. “Don’t know if you can get reindeer drool out of cashmere though.”

He snorts, “Maybe you shouldn’t have worn something so expensive to a petting zoo, princess.”

You brush off the nickname, not entirely sure if it was meant in jest. “You know I’m a feminist, I’m gonna need you to stop coming to my rescue Eddie.”

He smirks, “I don’t think that’s feminism, I think that’s stubborn independence to the point of detriment.”

He was taunting. Flirting really, but Eddie forgets it takes time for people to figure out he’s not just being grumpy all the time. That he isn’t as mean as his initial wariness of people might suggest. For a second he forgets that you haven’t always been a part of this group – that you don’t know him like the others do.

The awestruck look that had graced your face drops. “Jeez okay, I didn’t realise we were reading each other.” His eyes go wide as you shrink into yourself. “You know, I realise you probably don’t like me very much and you might feel like I’m ruining your time with your friends at Christmas, but I am trying Eddie.”

He hates the way your eyes begin to water.

“Robins told me so much about all of you, I know how much you all mean to each other and I really didn’t want to intrude on that, but she insisted that it would be okay. She’s letting me spend the holidays with her family because I don’t have one, and I don’t want her to regret that.” You look down at your feet, “I’ll make sure to stay out of your way from now on.”

Eddie clenches his eyes shut as you walk away to find Robin or anyone else who won’t mind you joining in.

“Nice work Munson.”

***

Once the group have had their share of reindeer petting and eaten the cookies you and Robin had brought along with some hot cocoa from a nearby stand, everyone gathers in the town square again for the annual Secret Santa. You’re huddled together with Robin, head leaning against hers as you steal each other’s warmth and the group gathers in a circle, Steve tossing pieces of paper with everyone’s name written on them into his beanie.

Eddie keeps stealing glances at you as Steve goes around the group, dramatically holding a gloved hand to each of the teens’ eyes and yelling, “No peeking!”

Eddie feels shit. He can’t believe he’s made you feel unwelcome. Well, he can. He knows he can be guarded when it comes to letting new people into his life, but you’re one of Robin’s best friends – spending Christmas with her because you don’t have anywhere else to go and he’s made you feel like he doesn’t want you here. Asshole.

When Steve gets round to you and Robin, he holds the hat out to her then moves on to Jonathan and Argyle next. You figure you’re too new to the group to partake in this tradition, which seems fair. Steve rounds out the wonky circle with Eddie, dropping the beanie with a “whoops” before fumbling on the ground with it, then holding it out to Eddie. You notice him squinting his eyes in suspicion, wondering what’s going on between them when Steve comes back to you.

“Lucky last,” he smiles that charming cherub grin of his and you reach into the beanie to pull the last piece of paper out.

Of course it would be.

Steve reminds everyone of the budget and secret part of Secret Santa with a pointed look at Mike, who frowns in offence before the group starts heading off in different directions.

Robin moves to stand in front of you. “Who’d ya get? Do you need help? I can bend the rules for you seeing as you don’t properly know everyone.”

“Yeah, I feel like I’m a bit disadvantaged.” You laugh nervously, “I uh, I got Eddie.”

“Oh great! He’s easy. Big nerd, you know what he likes.” She starts counting off on her fingers, “Music, DnD, Lord of the Rings and all that fantasy stuff.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You shrug.

She hooks her arm with yours again, “C’mon let’s go together, I got Nancy. I feel like you’ll be better at picking something for her than me.”

***

After an hour and a half, you’re about ready to give up. You helped pick out a faux-leather journal and fountain pen set for Nancy from Robin, but you haven’t been able to find anything remotely good for Eddie’s gift. Everything feels impersonal like something he could’ve just picked up himself and the last thing you want is for him to be disappointed that you got him for the gift exchange. Just another friend-only activity that your presence has ruined.

You’re currently browsing through a second-hand bookstore, hoping to find something you can curl up on the couch in your apartment with during the rest of the holidays, while Robin’s popped into the bath and body shop across the street to look for a gift for her aunt.

Your eyes scan the hardbacks in the fantasy section, fingers running lightly across the spines when they come to a stop on a light green book. You tilt the book from the shelf, admiring the mountains and dragon carved in navy blue adorning the border. This could be perfect. Carefully opening the worn cover, you find an inscription written in the yellowed pages that makes you smile. You close the book softly and head to the counter to ring it up. Maybe he wouldn’t be disappointed.

Dear Henry,

In celebration of our mutual liking – I hope Bilbo becomes a friend as well.

Happy Birthday,

Love, your Arwen

***

Christmas Eve

The butcher paper wrapped gift sat heavy in your palm as you’re greeted by Steve in his living room when you and Robin walk in. You hold up the present in question, keen to get rid of it before your clammy hands ruin the red satin bow decorating it, and Steve points you in the direction of the pile under the colourfully lit tree. You take a moment to admire the personal ornaments, the glint of a red 20-sided dice reminding you of the other inhabitant of this apartment.

The famous Harrington Christmas Eve party had been talked up by Robin for months. In her attempt to get you to Hawkins, she promised you a preview of the King Steve you’d heard her tease him so much about (which he vehemently denied was a thing), potently spiked punch (which you would not be partaking in) and impromptu games out on the street that would cause noise complaints from the neighbours.

And now that Steve and Eddie shared an apartment? Apparently, rowdiness was a prerequisite.

You’re more nervous than you should be as you settle in, taking solace in Jonathan and Will’s quiet company on the couch as you sip on a non-spiked mug of egg nog. It isn’t until half an hour later that Eddie even shows up, despite this being his apartment.

He walks into the living room, cheeks red from the cold, snow still sprinkled on his shoulders and in his hair. He’s followed closely by Dustin who’s rugged up in an assortment of knitwear that looks like it was definitely made by a doting family member, and grins when everyone greets him.

“Finally, you two.” Steve walks in from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly poured potato chips. “Everyone’s here, we’re getting ready for Secret Santa.”

Eddie just nods at him, offering you a tight-lipped smile when you catch his eye before he walks over to the tree to place something under it with his back turned to you.

While everyone gathers in the living room, he ducks out. Returning without all the extra layers, his crisp white t-shirt takes you by surprise and your eyes wander to the silver chain around his neck.

Pull it together, honestly.

“Okay, I’m first!” Robin walks across the room to the tree by the front window, only to be stopped by Steve’s arm.

“What? Why are you first?”

“Well, someone has to be dingus. Why not me?”

“Uh, maybe we should let our guest be the first?” Everyone turns their head towards you and the attention makes you sink further into the couch.

“Oh, no Robin is always first.” You wink in her direction, then frown. “Wait, did that sound weird?” You look at Jonathan and Will who both chuckle, the older boy giving you a shrug.

After Robin tears through her present the decision is made to go anti-clockwise around the room. The closer it gets to Eddie who’s sitting on the couch opposite you, the more your palms begin to sweat. You don’t think your heart could take him being indifferent to his gift, and you hated that you cared so much about what he thought. What was this town doing to you?

When Steve hands Eddie his gift your back automatically straightens, perched perilously on the edge of your seat you grip the mug of egg nog in your hands. He takes his time with unwrapping, not diving straight in and tearing like you would’ve expected, even draping the ribbon around his neck once he’s untied it. When he gets to the gift the room is mostly silent, save for the Christmas carols playing from the stereo in the corner. You’d already clocked The Kinks, The Damned and Ramones – sure that the boy who held your last ditch gesture in his hands had picked the tunes.

Eddie’s face is stoic as his fingers run along the cover of the book. When Dustin and Mike, sat near him spot what it is they share exclamations of “Sick”, but you’re more interested in the metalhead’s opinion. You take in a deep breath as he opens the well-preserved cover and you watch his eyes read the inscriptions.

After much back and forth you’d decided to leave your own message next to the original one. Writing in pencil in case he wanted to erase it.

He rubs his freshly shaven jaw then his eyes find yours across the room. They’re soft. Pools of awe that match the tone of his quiet voice.

“Thank you.”

You offer him a small smile, “You’re welcome.”

“How did you know it was from her?” Dustin pipes up from his seat on the floor.

“Lucky guess.” His eyes hadn’t left yours until then, and you watch him scan the message again.

Dear Eddie,

I know you’re already well acquainted but I thought what better company on a long winter’s night than the second best party to go on adventures with (second only to your own of course).

Merry Christmas,

C.G.

You feel his eyes on you as the rest of the gift-giving takes place around you. Wiping the sweat off your palms now that the moment was over, but the tension you’d felt hadn’t lifted from your chest – only tethered itself to the cause that was sitting across the room lightly brushing his thumb over your offering.

You’re the last in line to open your Secret Santa, but the attention of the room has been caught up in the gifts that have already been revealed. You’re admiring the new camera bag Jonathan is turning over in his hands when Steve taps you on the shoulder. He holds out a small parcel that fits in the palm of his hand and winks at you when you take it, before walking over to sit by Dustin.

You look down at the parcel wrapped in shiny red paper, tugging at the twine tied around it when you feel the weight of the couch shift beside you.

Eddie takes up more room than Jonathan who’s now sitting on the arm of the sofa across from you with Nancy’s arm draped over his leg. He’s manspreading a little, but the only reason you notice is because of the close proximity of his knee to yours.

“You got me,” he gestures to the gift in your hands, “I mean I got you. Well, I guess both are true.” He holds up his new copy of The Hobbit and smiles softly.

You look down at your lap again and begin to unwrap your present, Eddie’s leg bouncing next to yours. A glint catches your eye as a pair of dangly ruby earrings is revealed.

“They’re not real obviously,” Eddie scratches his jaw, “and Robin said you’d be happy with anything, like a snow globe or candy but I saw these in the drugstore and thought they’d look good on you.”

You smile, “Eddie they’re really pretty. Thank you so much.”

He blows out a puff of air, “You like them?”

“I love them, honestly. Oh, look we match!” You hold out the earrings next to the ring on his finger sporting a small ruby stone.

His cheeks are dusted in pink as he smiles, “Yeah, I guess we do.” You ask him to hold the earrings you had in before as you swap them. “You don’t have to put them on now.”

“I know, I want to.”

His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, mesmerised as he watches you put on his earrings. “What does C.G. mean by the way?” He opens the book in his lap again.

“City girl.” The frown on his face troubles you momentarily before he speaks again, doe eyes pining you down once more.

“Thank you. It’s really special. You’re really–“ He trails off, eyes searching yours as you wait for him to finish his sentence. But he doesn’t. Instead, he gets up so abruptly that you flinch. “I gotta uh, find something…I’ll be back.”

You turn to Will who had been not so subtly watching the whole exchange from the other side of the couch and gives you a sympathetic smile when you say, “I still don’t know where I stand with him.”

***

For the next twenty minutes, you only see glimpses of Eddie as he darts in and out of rooms. Stomping around like he’s on a mission, a crease etched deeply in his brow. While Nancy and El are admiring your earrings in the kitchen, you hear a squeak of shoes on the linoleum before you see a blur of brown hair disappear around the corner.

You excuse yourself, finding Eddie alone in the hallway, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed and head tilted to the ceiling.

“Eddie, are you okay?” He shakes his head and huffs out a bitter laugh. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s always goddamn mistletoe at these things. Steve always gets drunk and tortures people with it, but then this year? Of course there’s none!”

You step closer, now standing in front of him but he doesn’t meet your eye. You’re confused. “Why do you need mistletoe?”

“So I have an excuse to kiss you.”

Oh.

OH.

Wait, what?

“Why don’t you just…kiss me?”

His head snaps down, eyes flickering back and forth between yours with a frown. “Can I?”

You bite your lip to stop the enormous smile threatening to creep onto your face. “Yes Eddie, you can kiss me.”

He pushes himself off the wall, crowding your space and reaching a hand out tentatively to touch your face, thumb gently stroking your skin like he had the book. He searches your eyes for any hesitation before he leans in slowly until your fluttering lashes tickle his cheek and he can’t take it anymore. The kiss is as soft as the snow falling in flurries outside, one elongated peck before you're both leaning in for another, and another. Turning tender as he reaches his other hand to pull you closer by the waist. You can taste peppermint on him, probably from one of the candy canes hanging on the tree, but it’s the warmth from his chest and the heady scent of his cologne and smoke that clings to his shirt that has you lost in him. So lost that when his thumb gently pulls down on the side of your mouth, you let him in with no hesitation, his tongue now spreading his warmth from the inside.

“Wow, that got R-rated really quick.” You jump and lean back, not moving far with Eddie’s grip still on your waist. You look down the hall and catch Robin nodding with a look of slight disgust on her face next to a smirking Steve standing there with his arms crossed.

Eddie bows his head and sighs, “Really? Think you can maybe take the commentary somewhere else Harrington?”

He holds up his hands in defence, a leafy twig with white berries hanging from his hand. “Hey, I was just coming to give you two a push, but it looks like the party’s already started.”

Eddie pinches the skin in between his brows, “For fuck sake.” You cover your mouth with your hand at the sight of the deep blush creeping into his cheeks, which deepens even further when you both hear Dustin yell from the other room.

“Did he kiss her yet?!”

Eddie groans and moves his hand to the small of your back to guide you out the door, flipping off the audience at the end of the hall before grabbing your coats off the hanger. He helps you into yours and leads you outside the apartment building by your hand.

For the first time since you arrived in Hawkins, you don’t notice the cold that greets you, focused entirely on Eddie’s warmth as he crowds you against the brick wall of the building. He holds one arm above you, almost enveloping you in his soft waves when he leans in.

That intense gaze has you shying away again, opting to play with the zipper of his jacket instead of looking back.

“You really liked your gift that much huh?”

“I really like you.” He tilts your chin up.

“I didn’t think–“

“I’m sorry if I made you feel unwelcome,” he frowns. “I have trouble letting people in.”

You shake your head and he moves his hand to stroke along your jaw. “It’s okay, this is a very special family I’ve walked into. I understand why you’d be wary of anyone disturbing that.”

“You fit right in. I promise.”

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He smirks, “Also, I’m just really, really bad at flirting when it comes to drop-dead gorgeous city girls.”

You grin, “I think you’re probably better at it than you think.”

He leans in, lips a breath away from yours, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

***

Christmas Day

The screen door shudders under your touch as you knock on the trailer, your gloved hand coming back to wrap around the translucent cake plate tucked into your chest. You hear muffled footsteps before the inside door swings open to reveal a beaming Eddie on the other side.

“Hi,” you smile.

You step back to let him open the screen door and he meets you with half a step out, grabbing the plate from you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips that has you desperate for more.

“Hi, sweet girl. C’mon in.”

You follow his warmth, “There’s only half left of the cheesecake. I’m sorry Robin and her family already ate most of it, then I kind of hid it when I realised I didn’t have anything to bring over – I think it tastes pretty good though. And I brought this wine, which is all they had left at the store and it only came in this gigantic bulk size, I think it might be half water–”

You feel Eddie’s smile as he presses his lips to yours again, “It’s okay sweetheart. You didn’t have to bring anything.” “I know, but I wanted to make a good first impression and we both know that I…don’t.”

He chuckles, “Trust me, I was blown away as soon as you stepped outta that car.”

You roll your eyes, snappy reply dying on your tongue when you hear a door open and an older man walks down the short hallway towards you. “Hi, Mr Munson.” Eddie squeezes your shoulder as you step forward with your hand held out and introduce yourself. “Thank you so much for having me, I hope I’m not intruding on your Christmas.”

“Nonsense,” he frowns at you, the resemblance uncanny, and brings you in for a tight hug. “Please call me Wayne, darlin’. Honestly, Ed’s been bouncing off the walls waiting for you to come so you might be able to do me a favour and get him to sit still.”

“We were just watching Gremlins.”

“Oh, I love that film! I didn’t get to appreciate it the other day because I was hungover–I mean…we were busy baking cookies.” You feel Eddie’s chuckle on the side of your face.

“She brought baked goods and wine, Wayne. All for lil’ old us.” He squeezes your shoulder again.

“It’s not any good.” You hold out the cheap bottle to Eddie’s uncle.

“Oh hell, anything you can uncork, uncap or unscrew, I’ll drink it.”

You laugh, shoulders relaxing under Eddie’s subtle massage.

***

You feel light.

Floaty and fuzzy with the laughter coming from beside you, your body sinking into the worn couch and Eddie’s gentle stroking of the back of your hand grounding you in the moment. The Munson’s, like almost everybody else in Hawkins had welcomed you into their home with open arms.

It was Christmas and you were curled up on the couch with a boy who meant something to you. Allowed to be a part of a family if only for a short period.

“So little miss, you headin’ home tomorrow?” You turn to Wayne, who’s sitting in his armchair, eating a piece of the cheesecake you plated up for him with Eddie’s help.

“I was planning on it, but you know the airport gets so busy during the holidays and Robin’s still gonna be here so…I think I might just stay till New Year, actually.”

Eddie’s head snaps from the TV set towards you. He grips your hand a little tighter to get your attention.

“Is that right?”

You turn to him, “Yeah. Are you–are you gonna be around?”

“No,” he shakes his head, frowning in that way that’s starting to make your heart flutter, “I gotta work. Lotta damsels in distress needin’ me to rescue them from the side of the road.” You feel the heat creep up your neck as Wayne rolls his eyes at his nephew.

“Wanna ride shotgun?”

~ THE END ~

Tagging: @eddieslooneymoonie, @micheledawn1975 – thank you for asking!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #towtruck!eddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #promptparty #she writes

102 notes · View notes

athena-writes-i-guess · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: “You have to pay a toll”

A/N: This was just something short and sweet I wanted to write. Clearly I have a thing about blanket forts.

“WHAT SAY YOU SIR DUSTIN??” Eddie yelled at the boy. He flinched and gulped as his eyes grew wide as Eddie slammed his hands down on the little makeshift table. “The princess is going to die, young adventurers, what are you going to do?” He posed to the rest of the Hellfire Club around him.

“I-uh- shit-” Dustin started, he was stumped. He looked around the group for any kind of advice or encouragement and only found anxious looks back.

“Eddie, I’m here!” You called as you opened the front door to the Munson trailer. You stopped short when you looked at the state of the living room.

A fond smile graced your face as you looked at the giant blanket fort in front of you. It took over the entire living room, made of different quilts and blankets from over the years, and a few you didn’t recognize that you assumed belonged to some of the other members.

Eddie’s head popped out of a break in the blankets closest to you with a large smile on his face. “Hey sweetheart! We still have like 30 more minutes cause Henderson-” he sent a pointed look behind him at where you assumed the boy was before looking back at you, “won’t make any decisions quickly today.” You heard a few of the boys chuckle inside the fort.

“Come on, it’s not just me! Mike’s taking forever too!” You heard Dustin yell.

“Hey!” You heard in response. You couldn’t help but join in the laughter with the rest of the group.

“Want to sit in with us?” Eddie asked, an excited smile on his face. He always loved when you would sit in on his Hellfire campaigns. He liked playing up his characters in front of you, stealing glances to see the awed look on your face.

“Of course, pretty boy.” You said softly as you dropped your bag by the door. You heard some of the boys teasing Eddie as you got to your knees to crawl in.

Eddie should have felt embarrassed by the teasing, but he didn’t. Not even a little. Of the things you called him, this was one of his favorites. Knowing that you thought he was attractive, pretty even, after being made fun of his whole life made him feel confident, desired.

“Shut up you little shits, at least I’ve got someone to call me pretty.” He shot back playfully at the group, ignoring the few “We have girlfriends!” from some of the freshman boys. “You have to pay a toll though sweets.” He said to you before you could crawl in.

“Oh? What’s the toll, Dungeon Master?” You smirked as you watched Eddie bite his lip lightly at the moniker. He loved when you called him that too. He just puckered his lips at you with pouty eyes. “Oh?” You asked with a large smile.

Eddie have an exaggerated sigh before, “I guess you don’t want to come into the fort.” You giggled lightly before grabbing him by the front of his Hellfire Club shirt and crashing your lips on his plush ones. You went to break the kiss after a few moments only for Eddie to snake one of his arms around your waist to keep you close. You smiled into the kiss as you leaned into the affection, the both of you ignoring the sounds of annoyance coming from inside the blankets as you melted into each other.

“Always as sweet as sugar.” Eddie hummed when he pulled away with a dopey, love-sick, smile on his face, one that you were sure was on your face as well. “Come on in, gorgeous.” He stated, lifting one of the blankets to let you into the fort.

You crawled in and sat yourself next to your boyfriend. You looked around the space to find a few folding tables laying on the ground so the group had a surface to play on and Christmas lights strung through for light. You waived to the boys as they all greeted you.

“Now where were we?” Eddie asked around the table, “Oh yeah, you all were letting a princess die.” He scoffed as the group groaned. He leaned into you one last time to place a quick kiss to the side of your face before turning on the group again. “WHAT SAY YOU HENDERSON?”

Taglist: @srapalestina @yvonneeeee @cityofidek @anaisweird @mayahawkewife @harrys-tittie

875 notes · View notes

blues824 · 5 months

Note

round 6?? i think

can i have silver w prompts 6, 7, 11, and 12?

(i’m sorry LMAOOO atp ill just do the whole prompt list w him 😭😭)

You requested: Making a Gingerbread House, Gingerbread House Competition, Christmas Baking, + Christmas Market from the Fluffcember Prompt List

TW: Shrek references

Silver

Recently, you and Silver had both gone to the Christmas Market in the town below NRC for a date night, and it was definitely a wonderful experience. Sure, it was cold, but the lights as well as the smells and the vendors made it all worthwhile. Anyways, the point is, you saw a vendor that was selling gingerbread house kits, and you came up with the idea of doing a competition with Diasomnia.

You bought two and you both headed back to his dorm, where you asked the group, including Malleus (which made him delighted), if they would like to participate. Lilia said that he would be the judge in your little competition, and Sebek was all too happy to be teamed up with the great Crowned Prince Malleus Draconia of Briar Valley. You were paired up with your boyfriend, as you should be, and you both immediately set out the different items in the kit.

The kit included 6 pieces of gingerbread rectangles, and 2 people. You wanted to design them after you and Silver, and he let you after you finished building the house. To say that the icing was messy would be an understatement. You had it all over your shirt, and you even smudged some on Silver’s nose as a joke.

Surprisingly, Malleus and Sebek were in a pretty similar state, and the latter seemed very close to yelling at the piping bag for daring to smear itself upon the great Waka-sama. However, the former was having a lot of fun with building their house.

Lilia was walking around and watching both teams, like it was a holiday baking show. He giggled upon seeing that the two knights were taking this competition very seriously, and then he whipped out a fake microphone that he seemingly had in his back pocket to ask both teams questions. He was genuinely trying to make it seem like a holiday baking show.

“So, Prefect, what are you doing to that poor gingerbread man?

“When I was younger, there was a movie I used to watch: Shrek. There was a character that pushed all fairytale people out of his kingdom and was torturing a gingerbread man to get their location. I’m recreating that scene with this extra gingerbread man.”

“Oh, what fun! Although, I do not believe I’ve ever heard of such a film!”

“It’s from my world, but it is a childhood classic.”

~~~~~~~~

After 30 minutes more of frustration, jokes, and interviews, both teams were finally finished with their gingerbread houses. You let out a sigh and stretched your back, making it pop from how long you spent hunched over the cookies. Silver looked at you and smiled, happy to finally be done, and he went over to a chair to take a nap.

Sebek and Malleus’s house looked really good, no doubt from the half-fae’s desire to make it perfect. The lines were sharp and the gumdrops, candycanes, and other candies that were used were meticulously placed to make it comprehensible. You and your boyfriend made a cottage of sorts that had a very homey feel to it, reminding you of Gingy from Shrek.

It came as no shock to you that the other team won, but you shook hands and bid them a ‘good game’ as you turned to Silver, who was still slouched in the chair. You kneeled down to wake him up and take him to his bed so that his back or neck wouldn’t be hurt. He was slightly stumbling, being only slightly awake, but you eventually made it to his room.

Making sure he was tucked in all the way, you gave him a kiss on the forehead as his eyes closed for the night. However, as you turned to walk away, you felt his hand find your arm, and with his strength he pulled you into his bed next to him.

“Stay,” Was all he said, and you smiled as you got comfortable, ready to sleep next to your lover.

#twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #silver vanrouge #twst silver x reader #twst silver #silver x reader #silver #silver vanrouge x reader #twst silver vanrouge x reader #twst silver vanrouge

89 notes · View notes

tagsecretsanta · 4 months

Text

From @sofasurf

From @sofasurf to @janetm74

My prompts were:

1. Steam.

2. Stripes/striped.

3. ‘Did you have to?'

I think I've managed it!!

DINER

"Yellow car no hit backs!"

The sounds of a scuffle and indignant squawks. John's tone held a warning, "So help me Gordon, if you lay a hand on me!"

"Na ah! No hit backs allowed!"

"Oh I won't hit you."

There was silence in the car as the other four contemplated John's words.

"Man, you have zero chill," Gordon huffed turning to look out the window while Alan sniggered. In the front seat Virgil and Scott exchanged amused grins.

"Remind me again why this was a good idea?"

"Because, Johnno, we have a few days off for Christmas and Alan has never been on a proper road trip." Scott accelerated round a corner causing Virgil to grab at the handles.

"Car not One, Scott! Car not One!"

Scott ignored him catching Alan's eye in the mirror and winking. Of his brothers, Alan was the one who shared his appreciation for speed. The mountain side whipped past on either side of them. "The point of a road trip is to enjoy the scenery not travel back in time." Virgil complained while Scott pretended he hadn't heard him

It wasn't often they indulged in frivolous perks of wealth. When Scott had mentioned their road trip plans to a friend, who happened to also be the CEO of Ferrari, the offer to test drive the new SUV prototype had been more than the speed freak Scott could resist. It was big enough for all five of the brothers to travel in comfort, though Scott had yet to relinquish the front seat to test that theory.

"Right well, remind me again why I agreed to come!" John was prepared to be pedantic. Close proximity to Gordon occasionally had the effect.

"Ah, Johnny, Johnny," Gordon draped his arm over his brother's shoulder.

"Don't call me that, Fishface!"

"Jonathan, Jonathan," Gordon ignored the daggers shot his way, "It''s because you love us and because we promised we'd stop off at that new lab so you can talk all geeky about geeky stuff while the rest of us normal humans go Christmas shopping."

There were sounds of a scuffle from the backseat. It was all in jest however, everyone was in good form and beginning to unwind though, perhaps they were due a break from the confines of the car. Scott caught John's eye this time waggling his eyebrows.

"Now kids, don't make me stop this car."

He then performed another stunning manoeuvre that Virgil felt was more fitting for the air than the asphalt. However, his older brother was, it appeared, genuinely enjoying himself and Virgil would put up with breaking the land speed record for that reason alone.

"I'm hungry." Alan peered longingly into his long finished bag of Doritos.

"Eos recommended a dinner just through the next town. It's about 30 minutes from tonight's stop. She says their page is down, weird, but that she thinks it seems our kinda spot." John peered at his tablet.

"She was right about the motel last night so that works." Scott agreed and the state of the art central console pinged as John sent the location through. Scott glanced at the display, "Just an hour further on. Can you wait that long, Allie?" He caught his baby brother's eye again, meaning clear.

Alan put on his best whining voice, "I don't think I can Scotty. I'm starving. I feel faint."

"Did you have to? Brat!" Virgil chocked out as Scott pulled even more power from the engine. His whoop of delight brought a smile to the faces of the others in the car.

⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️

A much shorter time than it should have been; the five brothers had selected a quiet corner booth of the small diner. It wasn't busy which suited them well. It had some twinkly lights, a small tree and upbeat Christmas tunes playing softly in the background.

John and Gordon made for the restrooms while Scott slipped into the corner and flopped opposite Virgil, all long relaxed limbs. He spread his arms along the back of the seat and let his head fall back against the surprisingly comfortable cushioning on the booth; just the right height for him.

Alan, as always drawn to Scott like a moth to flame slid into the space below his eldest brother's outstretched arm. He said something that made Scott laugh, and Virgil's heart warmed at both Alan's obvious delight in his hero's response and how chilled Scott appeared. Should nothing else happen on this trip, Virgil would consider it a hit for that reason alone.

"Right, I'm starving!" Scott reached for the menus left for them by the waitress. Virgil and Alan followed suit. Each took one and read in silence a moment.

"Um, guys?" Alan had turned to the middle page and was staring at the menu.

"Hmmm?" Virgil was still reading through the appetizers.

"Scott, look!" Alan dug his eldest brother in the ribs. Scott followed the teen's outstretched finger and his eyes widened and he immediately flicked his menu to the centre. Virgil did the same.

‘Thunderbird Specials’ the centre section of the menu had hand drawn pictures of the Thunderbirds One through Four and a slightly inaccurate representation of Five. Each had corresponding dishes.

In a rush? Thunderbird One steak burger with fries and our unique hot sauce.

More time to chew? Thunderbird two- tomahawk steak – great for sharing

Thunderbird Four our famous surf and turf. Fillet mignon and our locally sourced fresh organic prawns. All day breakfast with our mouthwatering Thunderbird Five pancake stack and creamy asteroid milkshake Thunderbird Three our unique coffee triple expresso. They don’t call it rocket fuel for nothing! “Eos set us up!” Alan exclaimed.

Scott and Virgil exchanged looks, “It would appear so!” Virgil said while Scott flipped further through the menu looking for an explanation.

John and Gordon returned at that moment- Gordon bouncing excitedly on his heels. “Guys, you are never gonna believe this.”

“Eos set us up,” Alan repeated lifting the menu to show them. Scott batted it down, checking over his shoulder. “Don't draw attention!” Virgil whispered as the teen giggled a little.

John rolled his eyes at them, “Yes. It would appear this is Eos’ idea of a little joke. I thought it was strange I couldn't see the online menu.” John slid into the booth beside Virgil while Gordon dropped on Alan's other side swiping the menu despite his protests.

“There's a picture of dad and some dude on the wall over there!” Gordon pointed the direction he and John had come.

John met Scott’s gaze and held it a moment, “It’s a picture of Dad and the owner’s son. He was in that refinery fire, remember right back near the start of IR?”

“The big one in Texas Dad fought with top brass about for weeks after?”

John nodded, “Seems Dad pulled the son out just in time with Thunderbird One. There is a little bit about it under the picture.” John’s face was hard to read, memories of Jeff were always bittersweet.

“Really?”

John smiled, “Yep. And it appears the owner hasn't forgotten. Proceeds from the Thunderbird menu,” he gestured the pages open in front of them, “Go to a charity that supports rebuilding in disaster areas.”

“That's pretty cool, right?” Gordon was grinning.

“Yea,” Virgil agreed.

“Way to go, Dad!” Alan said his tone impressed and Scott dropped his arm to pull the teen in for a quick side hug.

“Way to go Dad,” Gordon repeated back his own tone softer with a little something unreadable in it.

Scott simply nodded a soft smile on his lips. He seemed to lose himself in memories a moment and Virgil tapped his ankle gently with his foot under the table causing his older brother to meet his eye. He nodded in reassurance. All good.

They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

“It’s pretty cool, right?” Gordon broke the spell. “but if you want the absolute coolest, check this out!” and he produced a bundle of papers from behind his back. “Thunderbird colouring sheets!”

And just like that the spell was broken and chaos descended in the table.

⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️

The food was exceptionally good. Obviously they had to sample all the Thunderbird menu and the argument over whose dish was the best looked set to continue until next Christmas. They had pulled the crackers orbited with their meal and squabbled good naturedly over the tacky prizes and each now sported a jaunty paper crown.

Gordon and Alan had listened engrossed as John and Virgil had regaled them with the tale of the Texas fire with Scott chipping in little details. Dad in action had truly been impressive and John, although he would deny it, was a gifted story teller when he chose to be.

Now a quiet contentment had descended in the group. Virgil sat back, stomach full and observed his brothers. He clutched his Thunderbird Three coffee and allowed the steam to curl up lazily in front of him. It had a pleasing kick though Three’s pilot was still complaining that three older brothers had stated “No” in unison when

he'd tried to order one for himself. He and Gordon, also banned from that much caffeine before being trapped in a car with the others, were appeased with hot chocolate. Apple pie and chocolate cake had also been consumed. Road trips were hungry work.

John was quietly messaging Eos who was delighted her subterfuge had worked while the three opposite him, yes the Commander of International Rescue included, were finishing off their colouring pages. Scott's tongue was poking out the side of his mouth in concentration, a small tuft of hair sticking up from where he’d run his hand through it, as he finished colouring Thunderbird Two blue. The argument had been brief and Virgil had

decided not to sink any further to his level. His own completed green version of One had a festive santa hat in lieu of her traditional nose cone. John meanwhile had been mildly offended by the inaccurate Thunderbird Five option and so was egging the others on in their colour wars.

“I mean we should be pleased they don't have an accurate image of our top secret satellite, Johnny!” “Don't call me that. And that's not the point, Scooter. Here, you haven't used this shade of blue yet.”

The battle between Alan and Gordon had almost come to blows when Alan had finished a red version of Four only to see the blue and yellow stripes the aquanaut had given Three.

John and Scott had added fuel to the fire by appearing to seriously consider the benefits of a respray for each accordingly and much brotherly silliness had ensued. Virgil did however make a note to keep a track of blue paint supplies as John was sneaky when he wanted to be and was watching Scott's drawing with barely concealed mirth.

There had been a hairy moment when the waitress had appeared to recognise them, or at least Scott. He had placed a finger to his lips and his teeth had practically sparkled as he smiled at her silently requesting she not give them away, sealing the deal with a little wink. She hadn’t divulged their identities, serving then with wide

eyes attentiveness; though a napkin with her number on it had been dropped on Scott’s knee as she refilled his coffee much to his surprise, Gordon and Alan's glee, and a murmur of, “unbelievable,” from Virgil.

Pucture complete, Scott looked up and met Virgil's eye. Virgil motioned to the other three and raised his eyebrows, Scott’s indulgent smile matched Virgil's own. Moments like this were all too rare. Scott sat back stretching his long arms along the back of the seat again, content like Virgil just to enjoy their company.

Virgil was called in to referee/ judge the which Thunderbird looked best in the new colour competition that still raged. When he looked back at Scott a few minutes later the eldest’s wasn't looking at them but at something behind Virgil's head, his expression a strange one Virgil couldn't quite read; thoughtful, wistful even? Virgil turned in his seat to see what had grabbed Scott's attention. He immediately recognised what Scott saw.

A woman who couldn't be much older than Scott himself was wrangling a small team of children into the booth by the door. Four boys aged roughly between twelve and four by Virgil's guess, she had another baby, a little girl who couldn't have been older than one in her arms. The baby had blonde hair and was waving a stuffed toy excitedly. He watched as the woman handed her to the oldest looking boy who immediately started to make faces and bounce her up and down, occupying her while the mother helped the other boys out of their coats.

Their excited chatter and the baby's infectious laughter drifted across the diner all clamouring for their mother’s attention as she attempted to answer several questions at once. It was chaos and to the two brothers watching, achingly familiar.

One of the younger boys needed the restroom and he and what looked to be his next older brother passed their booth, heads bent in discussion their conversation just audible, “I already explained, we can't ask for ice cream cos it makes mom worry.”

Virgil looked back at Scott who caught his eye and looked away. Seeming to shake himself a little as if to clear something from his head, Scott used his long reach across the back of the seat to tap Gordon on the shoulder, stealing his second last bite of cake as Gordon moved too slowly to stop him.

“Ugh! You are the worst, Scooter! Remind me again why I let you hang out with me?”

“Because you need his signature to access your trust fund,” John helpfully supplied spearing Gordon’s last piece.

He and Scott high fived while Scott slipped out of the booth to settle the bill.

“Actually ‘bout that...” Gordon turned puppy dog eyes towards his oldest brother.

“Told you, Squid, I am not signing off on you buying a Christmas tree farm in Vermont.” He ruffled the aquanaut’s hair as he passed.

“You have no vision, Scooter!”

Scott’s laugh floated back to them as he made his way to the counter.

The other four brothers watched enthralled as their waitress and another server both jockeyed to serve him.

Scott’s dimples were on full display as he leant in the counter bending his head towards the girls conversationally. Virgil could swear he could see their eyes changing shape to little hearts, “Does he even know he's doing it?” His tone was reverential.

“I really don't know. Sometimes?” John replied folding his arms as the waitress reached across to bat Scott's arm conspiratorially.

“His powers must only be used for good,” Gordon covered Alan's eyes, “You are too young to see this Allie.” Alan batted his hands away, ducking to continue watching the display at the counter.

Judging from the way the waitress was listening intently and kept glancing at the family in the booth Virgil was sure Scott's not inconsiderable powers were indeed being used for good. He didn't doubt for a second the family that reminded them so much of past times would find their bill paid with a healthy ice cream allowance added. People often thought that Virgil was the soft hearted Tracy brother; he just didn't have to hide it so carefully from corporate sharks.

Judging from the way the waitress’ eyes widened slightly as she retrieved the handset from his brother, there had been a healthy tip added to their own bill as well.

As they passed the family, now tucking into burgers and fries with gusto, the tiny girl tossed her toy into the ground. Scott bent to pick it up, smiling at the mother who smiled back in tired gratitude. He flung his arm around Virgil's shoulders as they walked towards the car.

A yellow Mustang pulled into the parking space in front of them and Gordon and Alan looked at each other, frozen like gunslingers at high noon.

“Yellow car no hit backs.”

John beat them to it, walking between the two giving them each a solid cuff to their heads. Their outraged cries floated on the crisp air drawing the attraction of the older two. It was the little things at Christmas really John thought. He hung back slightly watching as his four brothers crossed the parking lot, the sky was trying to snow, a few flurries escaping the black clouds.

“Thanks, Eos,” He whispered into his open Comm before hurrying to catch up with a shout of, ”Shotgun!” that sent the others scrambling to reach the car first.

⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️⛄️

#thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction

51 notes · View notes