#get over yourself libby | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rustedhearts · 1 year

Text

the incident ♡ part i (boxer!steve x librarian!fem reader)

summary: a brutal argument and steve's terrible temper drive you away from your malibu home. steve loses you again, and this time, you're both left wondering: has he lost you for good this time?

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the king of the ring ✶ part ii, part iii ✶ main masterlist

tags: angst, so toxic, more manhandling (mostly just Steve grabbing her), shoving, brutal verbal argument, Steve is genuinely terrible, also there's like no build-up, we get straight to it lol.

a/n: this is it, folks. this is the incident, the one that changes everything for steve and libby. it's rough to read, and this is your warning now that it's bordering domestic abuse. but once again, i will never write explicit violence against women (as in, he will never hit her).

malibu, california, november 1992

"Every time. You do this every fucking time, Steve."

The back of your head was just as pretty as the front, but Steve hated the sound of your voice when it was yelling at him. He deserved it, of course—he always did. But that sharp, scolding snap—it enraged him. No matter how much he deserved it, no matter how awful he'd been. Steve hated being yelled at.

"Do what? He was askin' for it."

"Asking for it? Do you hear yourself? You knocked him out cold, you fucking prick!"

Steve stopped short in the open doorway of your Malibu home, holding the doorframe. Freshly cleaned, scented of lemon cleaner, a little slick on the floor. He watched you stomp up the carpeted stairs in your little heels, bag swinging with every pound of your feet. You had that pursed, scrunched look on your face he knew all too well.

But when you yelled at him, he just wanted to yell back.

So, he followed suit, quickly closing the distance between the pair of you. He reached the bedroom just as you threw your purse onto the bed, whipping around to head toward the closet.

"So fuckin' what? I'm just supposed to let some creep—"

"—oh my god, Steve! How many more times are we gonna do this? Its-it's fucking driving me insane!" you shrilled, turning to stare at him in exasperation from his position in the doorway.

Steve huffed, stepping into the closet toward his array of black fabrics on the other side. He whipped his shirt off and let it pool on the ground, belt clinking as he slid it from the buckle.

"Yeah, whatever. How d' you think I feel when I see guys like that all over you, huh? I mean, Jesus Christ, he was practically drooling on your tits, Libby," Steve snarled, hands waving in those open, empty gestures that you always rolled your eyes at.

You paused in your pursuit of changing clothes. Comfortability could wait. Steve needed to understand how infuriating it was to be tugged at and shielded like a doll. How enraging it was to be treated like nothing more than his object, something to possess and hold onto.

You felt like a toy in the tight grip of a boy that refused to grow up.

"He wasn't doing anything. We were talking, Steve. Would you have reacted that way if it were a woman?"

Steve rolled his eyes this time, shoving his jeans over his thighs toward his ankles. He kicked them off, reaching for a pair of loose, black Nike shorts that he usually wore around the house.

He kept his back to you as he yanked them over his hips, slung low enough to show the newly cut muscles he'd gained over gruesome training for higher-stake title fights. He'd been training at a rigorous pace that worried anyone not on his payroll—you most of all.

He was always littered in bruises, always sporting some kind of migraine bordering concussion—and most of all, his anger was at an all time high. If it wasn't something you did, it was something you hadn't done. If it wasn't you, it was anyone nearest you that breathed wrong. It was anyone, anywhere, anytime. No one was spared of Steve's wrath.

But you bared the brunt of it.

"No, because a woman wouldn't be slobbering all over you—"

"—we were talking, Steve! Something you and I don't seem to be doing lately. So yeah—"

"—what? What the fuck are you talking about?" Steve's face screwed sideways, body turning to face you finally.

"—yeah, I'm gonna talk to someone who actually listens to me. It's like talking to a brick fucking wall with you lately."

Steve reared back, then jutted forward: chin first, eyebrows furrowed, eyes squinted inquisitively. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He hadn't been listening to you?

"Well, maybe I'm fucking tired after working all day, honey. Maybe I don't wanna hear you whine and complain about how boring it is—"

"—ew, God, did you just say that? Do you hear yourself? You think you're so fuckin' important. So fuckin' high and mighty now that you're in Hollywood, right?"

Steve glared at you, jaw tightening. "You know I don't give a shit about—"

"Oh," you snapped, brows raising. "Oh, you don't? No? No, you didn't throw a tantrum after you lost that fight last year?"

"No—"

"You didn't freak the fuck out when Title didn't cut you 'what you deserved' after the Davidson fight?"

"No, don't twist my fuckin'—"

You were standing toe to toe now, Steve half-clothed and barefoot, the dress you'd been wearing all day still sticking to your skin from Californian heat and a humid gym. Your feet were killing you. Your face was flaming hot. Steve's nostrils were flaring rapidly and his breathing was growing unsteady.

This had been building up. After months of fighting and making up, after weeks of giving silent treatments only to be suckered into his kisses and murmured apologies. Months of picking up pieces of picture frames he broke in outburst, deciding to hang them up without the glass to keep from breaking because you couldn't afford his temper. Weeks of wondering when you'd break, when you'd finally snap and ask what the hell happened to the man that protected you, loved you, made you feel like something special and cherished?

Because the man standing in front of you was nothing like the man you first met. The man standing in front of you, millions of dollars richer and all the worse for it, was a cold, hard shell of who you once knew.

"I know you, Steve. You might think you can fool me by pretending you don't care about Hollywood and money and fame but—I know you, Steven. And all you care about," you stepped closer, glaring up the tip of your nose at the broad, fuming boxer, "is your ego."

It was the one-fingered push to his chest that set him off. You were on your way through the door, heading back into the bedroom to put space between the pair of you. But Steve wouldn't let you have the last word. Steve wouldn't let you be right.

"Oh, but it's my 'ego' payin' for all this, isn't it? Huh? I haven't heard you complainin' about all those diamonds around your neck, right?"

The grip Steve had on your arm was all too familiar, and he used it to yank you back around with a force that made you flinch. His hand burned where it wrung your bicep, and you ground your teeth to keep the tears at bay. You wouldn't cry prematurely. You had every right to scream and rage right now.

And with the way Steve was looking at you right now, all condescending pouts and head tilts, chasing your gaze when you wouldn't give it to him because he wanted to corner you—it made you feel truly insane.

"Yeah, you don't care so much about my 'ego' when I'm fundin' your lifestyle, do you, sweetheart? When I'm buyin' all those pretty dresses and fueling a fuckin' jet." Steve punctuated the sharp snap of his teeth with a tightened grip on your arm, using it to yank you into his chest.

You shoved at his chest, eyes starting to burn. "So fucking take it, Steve. I don't want any of it."

Steve tipped his head again, face too close for your liking. You suddenly didn't find those swampy eyes so endearing. The menacing sneer he wore in the ring wasn't so handsome up close.

"No?—"

"No!" you snapped, shoving him again, glaring up at him with wet eyes. "Take it all back, you fucking asshole! It means nothing to me. I was here for you. I was here because I loved you!"

You were crying now, and you hated yourself for it. Why wouldn't you just be strong, breathe through it? Why did he always have to get the best of you? Why did he always have to make you cry?

Steve was silent this time, and it almost made you feel worse. Since when did he have nothing to say to 'I love you?' With a whimpered grunt building in your throat, you shoved your forearm into Steve's stomach, urging him away. His hand loosened around your other arm just enough for you to rip it away, and with another shove to his chest, you yanked free from his hold and stomped toward the closet.

"Here, take it all back, you fucking dick!"

You hurled your clothes toward the bedroom where Steve was fuming at the end of the bed, glaring at all the items piling on the plush, cream carpet. Dresses, skirts, shoes, purses. When you returned to the bedroom, you yanked the pearl drop earrings from your ears and tossed them toward his looming figure. His eyes hardened when they barely brushed his nose.

"There, have it, Steve," you snapped.

You stomped toward the door, rushing for the stairs. Stepping over the mess you made, Steve was quick to follow, bare feet padding the freshly cleaned wood until they met the carpet of the stairs again. You ignored him, sniffling and wiping at your tears, until he took one large step in front of you. You took one back, bumping into the entryway wall as a result.

Blocking your path to the kitchen, Steve crossed his arms and glared down at you. He had you cornered. "Don't act like you're so fucking innocent here, honey," he sneered.

You rolled your eyes, mirroring his stance and folding your arms. "Yeah, I'm sure you'll find something to dock me for, Steven. What did I do this time, huh? Did I breathe wrong?"

"You always fucking flirt with them. You always flirt with other guys, and you know what that does to me. You do it just to fuck with my head." Steve tapped his temple and you tipped your head back with a groan.

"God, you're still on this? I don't flirt with anyone, Steve! The only man I want to be with is you!" Though you weren't so sure you even wanted that anymore.

You wanted Steve—grumpy but lovable, privately sweet and adorable with a dry sense of humor that always made you giggle even when he wasn't trying to be funny. You wanted the Steve that brought you flowers every time he came to pick you up back home in Indiana. You wanted the Steve that begged to wash your hair because he 'liked how your shampoo smelled,' and the Steve who watched you sleep because 'you looked so pretty.'

You didn't want Steve 'The King of the Ring.' You didn't want the Steve that glared and screamed and treated you like another opponent in the ring.

"Oh, yeah? Well what was so fuckin' funny that you had to caress that guy's arm today? Tell me, baby. Was he just so fucking funny—"

"—Jesus, Steve, shut up!"

The tip of Steve's finger bumped your nose when it came to point in your face. "Don't tell me to shut up."

You smacked his hand away, rivaling his mean stare with one of your own. If stares could slice, Steve's head would be in pieces by now.

"Or what?"

The apple of Steve's cheeks were round and red, and a splotchy trail of heat began to scale the length of his neck. You should have shut up. You should have walked away.

You should've left him months ago when you cut your finger cleaning up another one of his messes and he told you to 'be more careful.'

You shouldn't love a man like this.

"Stop it, Libby," he told you lowly, head shaking. "I don't wanna do this with you."

You scoffed, brushing your hair away from your forehead. It was starting to gather a sheen of sweat. "Yeah, right. You only wanna yell at me when I don't yell back, right? You push, and push, and push, and then call me crazy when I finally explode, right, Steve?"

Steve dropped his arms and placed his hands on his hips. His shoulders shrugged in that cocky, douchebag way that always had you boiling.

"I mean...if the shoe fits."

And it was there that any chance of dropping this argument went out the window. It was there that you truly lost it.

Bobbing your head, you dropped your own hands and used them to shove Steve's chest, punctuating every word with a little nudge. You were only adding fuel to the fire, but you were too enraptured by your own fury to care. Finally you were angry, and finally it felt good.

"Oh, is that right? Well, you know what they say about you, Steve? You're just. Like. Your. Daddy."

The house fell silent. You weren't sure Steve was even breathing. But he was staring at you, eyes void and face blank. The only sound that filled the emptiness was the thump of your own heart, like a gong reverberating in your ears.

The regret didn't have a moment to sink in before Steve lunged back into place and slammed his hands into the wall on either side of your head. You jumped, freezing stock-still between his arms caging you in. Your breathing shallowed, caught in the center of your throat.

"Oh, yeah?" Steve growled, tipping his head to find your eyes again. "That's how you feel, honey?"

"Well," you swallowed, steeling your nerves. Steve wouldn't get the best of you today. "If the shoe fucking fits."

"Shut up!"

The impact of Steve's fist against the drywall felt like a firework in your ear. Earth-shattering, ear-splitting, jolting you so hard you lost your breath for a moment. You felt the whoosh of air when he reared back, felt the boom of his hand breaking the foundation. It crumbled in chunks of shattered plaster, clattering against the hardwood.

The room around Steve seemed to vignette. Shadows gathered around the shape of his face, and the space in your lungs shrunk to a minuscule amount. You suddenly couldn't breathe. There was no room in your body for air. Your ears hurt and your cheeks felt swollen, the way they do when you're about to be sick. That sore, stinging ache that came from the onset of tears gathered behind your eyes.

Steve's face went through a series of shifts in the next few palpable moments of silence. First, contorted in anger: brows furrowed and angled down, lip curled into a sneering scowl, cheeks flushed hot red. Then: the brows softened and knitted together, his cheeks dimmed to a soft pink, and his mouth fell agape. His fingers uncurled from their place in the wall. More plaster fell to the floor in chips.

"Oh...oh, god, baby—"

You were out of there. You were so out of there.

You ducked under Steve's arm, still crowding you against the wall. You sprinted for the door, unconcerned about your purse or any of your belongings strewn around the house. The only thing on your mind was getting away.

"I-I'm taking the car," you stuttered out, though you weren't sure why. Maybe you were talking to yourself, reminding yourself to keep moving, to not stop. You couldn't stop. You had to keep going.

"No, don't take the car, baby—"

The jingle of keys between your fingers sounded miles away. As did Steve's voice, following you out the door with a pleading upturn and a nasally whine. He was crying. In the back of your mind, you registered that. Someplace in your head, you saw his tears, heard his pleading.

But you just kept going.

You slid into the car and slammed the door, immediately encompassed by the thick heat collected inside. The brown leather was warm. The engine rumbled to life.

Steve ran across the driveway, all flat grey stones he had redone. His bare feet collected flecks of dirt, little pebbles lodged in his heels. But he had to get to you. He lunged for the car—his car, with you in the passenger seat leaking a shower of tears he wasn't quite sure you knew you were shedding.

Steve banged on the driver window and winced at the sight of his own hand: swollen, split at the knuckles and seeping hot blood. It trickled down his hand and raced for his wrists. He hated how it stained the glass of the window, how it got all over the handle when he yanked at it.

"No, baby, please. Please, baby, open the door. Please, please, please."

You yanked the car into reverse, fingers unsteady and buzzing with some far off, tingling feeling. Everything felt like someone else's actions, someone else's body. It felt like you were watching from a distance.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't go. Baby. I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry."

You were hiccuping and choking on your own breath as you slammed your foot on the gas and whipped the car around. In the rearview, Steve jogged after the car, half naked and bleeding, and you hurried to put it in drive and haul off. You squealed out of the driveway, down the hill, and toward the end of the street, sobbing the whole way.

It was about five minutes later that you managed to get ahold of yourself. You slurped up whatever snot attempted to escape your nose, wiped it with the back of your still-trembling hand, and clicked on the turn signal to go right.

There were only two other people you knew in Malibu. Right now, you needed a friend.

♡ ♡

to be continued...

823 notes · View notes

munsonmuses · 4 months

Text

Hateful Recollection

Themes: angst, arguing, resentful minds and eventual comfort, labors of love.

Warnings: cursing, drug usage, there’s a slap here and there, Eddie is kind of an asshole but it’s a bit deserved?

Word Count: 4.3k

Part Two

Edward James Munson and yourself had always been a bit…combative, if that’s the right way to put it. Fighting over the space in the woods, the hallways, study spaces, hell even parking spots in the cramped Hawkins High School parking lot. You’d despised each other since freshman year, and with a few mishaps in life, you too were repeating senior year for a second time. It wasn’t often two massive tragedies hit, but that was the case for you. In ‘84 there was the fatal car accident that took your darling father. A staple in the sleepy community, and in ‘85, the strange death of your cousin Heather Holloway leaving your life in a whirlwind. School was the last thing on your mind in the wake of such terrible loss, so the district had understood you pulling out of school for the time being.

Sat at the cramped lunch table, you pushed around the lasagna on your acrylic tray, graying meat and rubbery noodles making your stomach turn as you let your fork drop. Deciding to rejoin the conversation amongst your friends as you tried to catch up to speed with all of the gossip and mindless conversation.

“I just…don’t understand who died and made her queen of fucking the school newspaper, I don’t. I have a great spread on the lunchroom epidemic, how they’re feeding us what is essentially tubed meat. My daddy’s tax dollars aren’t meant to be feeding us mush on a plate.” Libby bitched as you hummed in indifference, though the lasagna presented to you today did sway your internal argument a bit, and Nancy Wheeler did hold the school newspaper with the clutch of a feral dog. Rhiannon shaking her head at Libby’s incessant rage. “I think it’s fine, it’s nice to have something to eat, or at least snack on…” she reasoned as Libby scoffed. “Yeah but you eat like a goddamn hippie. You don’t have to eat the meat or anything…” “my veganism has nothing to do with this argument, you’re killing the rooms energy.” “Well your veganism is killing my appetite.” The two squabbled as you laughed. The two having been your dearest friends since meeting at Camp Love in 1978. Sticking by you through every strange mishap, with the typical teen argument here and there.

You went to add to the conversation before squealing in shocked upset as a carton of icy chocolate milk fell down your back. Soaking through the chartreuse wool of your sweater as you whipped around to face who it was, a very startled set of brown eyes staring back at you. Eddie Munson’s mouth hung agape in shock, knowing how this looked. Having been shoved by Jason Carver and his milk subsequently teetered off his tray, leading to your current predicament as you pushed to stand.

“Edward Munson you did that on purpose!” You accused with a finger to his chest, your nail dimpling his shirt and flesh as he stared down at you. Lips pulling back in a sneer as he smacked your hand away. “It was not, but, honestly? I’m kind of a bit glad it did hit you. Maybe the cold down your back will quell the hellfire inside you, you succubus.” He hissed back as you glared, shoving him harshly. “You’re a complete freak! I bet you hoped my shirt would be see through or something. Satanic and perverted,” you hissed as you gathered your bag, getting ready to leave while Libby and Rhiannon worked on doing the same. Before catching the distasteful muttering of Eddie Munson.

“Just because you’ve got a couple of dead relatives doesn’t mean you get to be a frigid cunt,”

You didn’t realize how fast you moved, whipping around as you slapped him. It wasn’t intentional, or even thought out. Completely unsure of what was going on till you heard the slam of cheek to palm, and watched his head reel back. A hush falling across the lunchroom. Hot embarrassment crept up your neck and cheeks, hot tears stinging your eyes as you took a watery breath. “That was fucking mean…even for you,” you whispered before shoving past him, Rhiannon chasing as Libby followed, stopping partway to look back at Eddie. “That was a low blow Munson…” she whispered, leaving him flapping his mouth open and shut. Nothing worth while actually coming out.

You made your way to your locker, throwing the door open as the door rattled, shoving in your books and grabbing your purse. Decidedly, you were near tears and it didn’t feel like you had the patience to sit through the logistics of adverbs and their proper insertion into the English language. Rhiannon gently placing her hand on you shoulder. “Honey he didn’t mean that…” she tried to comfort as you scoffed lightly. “Doesn’t matter if he meant it, it’s the fact that he said it…I’m going home, can you take Marilyn home today?” You questioned about your younger sister as she nodded gently, wishing you goodbye as you headed down the silent halls. Pushing through the doors and climbing into your little hatchback. Looking over at the banged up van parked beside you as you scoffed angrily. Peeling out of the parking lot and heading home for the day. Your grades were fine, and nobody would notice.

Your small home was a welcome sight, your driveway empty. Your mother working long nights as a nurse to keep you, your sister, and herself afloat. She was never home, delegating most of the housework to you as you keyed in and trotted upstairs. Tossing your bag aside and falling into your plush bed. Pulling your fading carebear into your chest as tears finally allowed themselves to fall, crying the day away as a nap took hold of you.

It was around four in the afternoon when you were roused from your self pitying nap. Opening your eyes to the sweet face of your younger sister. She’d shed so much of her baby fat in the face, blossoming into a beautiful young woman. Yawning lightly as you sat up, stretching out as you gently rubbed her cheek. “Hi Lynnie, was school okay?” You asked gently, voice croaking with exhaustion as she nodded slowly. Holding a little Lisa Frank folder out to you as she swallowed nervously. “I got your…your school work, and um…momma called. She’ll be home late again.” She whispered nervously, breaking your heart. She’d been so much more…involved, when everything was normal, but after your father passing when she was twelve, alongside the irregular life she led with an always working mom, struggling grades, having a childish air about her, and being the smallest and meekest girl in her grade, she seemed to be afraid to take up space.

“That’s okay, we can have a great night just the two of us…” you offered as you pulled her to lie down with you, rousing a gentle giggle from the girl as she turned her head to face you. “I’ll take us to family video and we can rent a movie, and we can get a pizza, and I’ll even let you put mushrooms on it~” you cooed as you poked her sides, earning a string of laughter from her as she chewed on her lower lip. “Can we get the last unicorn please…?” She asked nervously, and you slowly nodded. You couldn’t say no to her, remembering how she’d adored the movie with your father. How she’d named her pet hamsters Amalthea and Schmendrick, and mourned them when they’d passed. “Whatever you want Lynnie…lemme change okay?” You reasoned as she nodded eagerly, getting up to let you change. You were determined to make it a good night.

It was a quick ride to family video, making it in record time. Having donned a purple sweatshirt with embroidered lilies on the front, and made sure Marilyn was ready to go. Parking carefully as you walked in, holding the door as Marilyn raced to the children’s section. Leaving you to mingle with Steve Harrington at the counter as he grinned lightly at you. “Hey there, haven’t seen you here in a while…” he greeted as you rolled your eyes. “Moneys been a bit tight, so I’m sorry I haven’t been here to grace you with my presence…” you mocked as he laughed. “You know I won’t charge you…so what’s the real reason?” He pried as you laughed lightly. “You got me there…I just haven’t had the time.” You explained as he nodded in understanding. He’d been a longtime friend, and had been coming by with premade casseroles after both funerals, mostly urged by his mother, but that’s didn’t dampen the sentiment. You valued Steve, and understood that he knew what it was like to feel like you had no support system.

You’d realized it was taking a while for Marilyn to come back as you excused yourself, walking the aisles to find your sister. Seeing her mop of red curls, stopping at the sight of the metal head helping her reach the VHS on the top shelf. Furrowing your brows as you eaves dropped. “Great choice, Annie…” he quipped at her as she meekly thanked him, earning a light laugh from him. “I loved this movie when it came out, but between you and me I was scared of the harpy…” he said in a loud whisper as she laughed. “That’s dumb…” she mumbled as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it is huh?” The interaction strangely made your blood boil, walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder as Eddie frowned lightly. His face still a bit red from the altercation earlier that day.

“What’re you here for Munson, some sort of freakish torture porn?” You gestured towards the case in his hand as he scoffed. “Actually it’s return of the living dead and American werewolf in London.” He retorted as you scoffed. “Not much of a difference,” you quipped before pushing past him, catching Marilyn waving him bye out of the corner of your eye as you went to the counter. Wishing Steve a great day and leaving without another word.

A few hours later you were back home, getting your pizzas on a plate as you heard Marilyn setting up in the living room. The intro song playing as she hummed along, earning an intentionally obnoxious rendition from you as she laughed loudly. Getting onto the couch as you gave her the plate with greasy slices, sitting through the movie with only a few questions and a full belly by the end. Sending your sister to shower and work on homework as you retired to your room. Getting changed for the night and sitting at your desk, working on your biology homework well into the night, soothed by the rain pattering against your window. Not realizing how much time had passed before hearing a soft knock on the doorframe. Turning to face your sister. “You heading to bed honey?” You asked as she nodded carefully, wringing out her fingers as you turned fully around. “What’s up sugar…?” You asked as she teetered on both feet. “Why are you so mean to Eddie?” She asked as you frowned lightly. “What do you mean Marilyn…?” You pried as she whimpered, as if whatever she said next might cause some terrible Rube Goldberg chain of devastation to occur. “I don’t…get why you’re so mean to him…you guys used to be best friends,” she whispered as you sighed. “Go to bed Marilyn…I love you.” You mumbled as she muttered it back and left. That was enough to draw any energy you had left. Climbing into bed as her words replayed in your head.

The next day seemed to be easier, getting to school early, and blazing through your first four periods. A few grades coming back to you as you tucked the papers into your folder, bold ‘A’s and B’s’ smattered across the upper corners as you grinned. Now heading to the woods behind the football field with Libby and Rhiannon, choosing to forego the meatloaf that the cafeteria was serving.

“You can’t even call that meatloaf, you can call it meatloaf? Like with a question mark at the end, because you can’t even confirm it’s real meat,” Libby complained as her Chuck Taylor’s trudged through the leaves, the soft earth gently squishing beneath your soles as you sighed. Her tangents about school lunch were strange, especially considering she didn’t eat school lunch. Rhiannon scoffing lightly as she followed, rooting through her messenger bag and pulling out her altoid tin as she snapped her gum carefully. “Well some people could say the same thing about you eating sushi Lib,” she argued, earning a defending argument from Libby as you got seated at the rickety picnic table. Rhiannon opening the tin to pull out a hastily rolled joint. Lighting it carefully and passing it around the table as you took a decent puff. Coughing and sputtering as you laughed nervously. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” You giggled out through coughs as Libby snatched the joint eagerly. It continued passing around till you heard the crunch of leaves and rapidly worked on disposing of the evidence, eyes wide before relaxing harshly at the sight of Eddie Munson with lunchpail and corroded coffin in hand as you scoffed loudly.

“You need to leave. This is my turf. So move.” He ordered harshly as his little band of misfits tried to protest with ‘Eddie lets just go to the van’ or ‘Eddie calms on man’ as you turned around quietly and hummed. “Hi Gareth, hi Grant, hi Jeff,” you greet gently as they waved back gently. Humming contentedly before your eyes shifted back to a fuming Eddie Munson. His fingers flexing and face screwed up in contempt. “Get the fuck out of here, I swear to god you do it just to irk me.” He snapped as you guffawed at his confidence. “Typical of you to think my life revolves around you.” You retorted, an argument beginning to kick up as your insults were hurled at one another.

“No! No you think you can get away with anything because of your tragedy! Poor me! Oh poor baby! Everyone let me off easy and pity me, because I feed off of your attention! Like the succubus that you are,” Eddie hissed as you felt your hands clenching the denim of your jeans. Shuddering angrily as you spat back venom.

“It’s not my fault people were there for me when my parent died, not you.” You hissed, the realization of what you’d said dawning on you as his face fell. “Fuck, Eddie I’m sorry-“ you started as he shoved you back, feeling the leaves crunch into your back as he seemed to tremble, near tears. “That was way fucking meaner than it needed to be.” His voice was watery as you frowned, knowing his cruel of you it was to mention the passing of his mother. “Fuck you.” He whispered as he turned heel and walked off, followed off by his friends. Your own staring at you nervously.

“You guys know I didn’t mean that…right?” You questioned as they looked between each other, silently deciding who should be the one to answer you, Rhiannon sighing as she went to help you stand. “Honey, just because you didn’t mean it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. You were so angry at Eddie yesterday for saying something he didn’t mean…and you slapped him. I think you’re both in the wrong to be truthful,” she insisted as you muttered excuses under your breath, earning a look from Libby as you frowned gently. “Fine, okay, I’m an asshole!” You insisted angrily as you puttered loudly. Carefully gathering up your things and heading back towards the school. You’d have to make the rest of the day go by as smoothly as possible.

English was fine, and biology was wonderfully easy, until you were delegated into pairs for whatever in class research you had for a pairs project. Drawing popsicle sticks with numbers on the end, as the class went one by one listing their numbers, soon enough getting to you as you sighed. “I have eight.” You spoke, being spoken over by Eddie Munson who glared. Going to argue to change partners as Mr. Birmingham tutted loudly. “I don’t care about whatever squabble you have outside of my class, I’m here? I’m the ruling force. You and Munson are going to have to get along.” He insisted as he sent the two of you to one of the tall lab tables in the back. Sitting with a huff as Eddie sat as far as he could from you. Flipping open his textbook haphazardly as he glared lightly. Earning a scoff from you as you reached over and pulled it to the middle of the table so he tried to yank it back. Hushed insults going back and forth before he finally relented.

“I don’t fucking understand why you’re acting like this-“ Eddie snapped as he glared at you bitterly. “Why you’re so angry and mean all the time.” He quipped as you scoffed at him. “You should know why.” Was all you responded as his brows furrowed, not knowing how to respond to you as he carefully got back to work. The two of you remaining…civil, throughout the rest of the period.

The bell rang, freeing you of your hell as you headed into the hallway, meeting with Libby who was flirting with school hippie, and Eddie’s rival dealer, Kingston Richard. Watching as he handed her a crinkled paper, inviting Libby and Co. to a party he was attending tonight. Libby giggling and offering a “yeah~” as he walked off. Humming over at you as you quirked a brow. “I can’t go to a party Libby, gotta take care of Marilyn…” you insisted as she whined loudly. “No you don’t, she’s going to a friends house for a sleepover. I ran into her in the hallway, told me to give you this.” She handed you a little note with a home number and address. Sighing lightly as you agreed carefully. “I’ll go, I’ll go and it’ll be boring and then I’ll have to drive your sloppy ass home~” you teased as Rhiannon joined you both. Hearing about the party as she agreed eagerly. Setting your unsure plans into stone.

You frowned deeply as you had your hair teased to the high heavens, setting the look with some pearly eyeshadow and letting your shirt be cropped choppily. Rolling your eyes as you tested out two sets of earrings for yourself to wear. Deciding on some thick acrylic hoops to match your bangles and rings. Snapping your gum carefully. “So we’re doing this whole party thing on the like tree line by lovers lake? What if someone calls the cops?” You mumbled, remembering that there were a multitude of residents that lived by the water. Earning a ‘pshaw’ from Libby as you frowned. Slipping on your keds and tucking your ID and cash into your bra. Heading out to your car as your friends followed. Taking the scenic route out to lovers lake as you hummed along to Pat Benatar on the radio, recollecting your joint past.

“Do you guys remember meeting at Camp Love? It was on the lake and we camped in the woods…and we got poison ivy?” You laughed out as Rhiannon laughed lightly to herself in agreement. “I remember sneaking out to go night swimming, then the guys convinced us that there were like…snakes.” She giggled out as you rolled your eyes. “I just remember having fun…and I remember being cold because I didn’t have enough blankets, feeling mad I hadn’t packed enough.” You whispered as Libby hummed. “I remember you cried, and you asked around for a blanket…Eddie Munson stayed with you and gave you his,” she said softly as you gulped harshly. “Yeah. That’s when he was twelve and still had a heart.” You retort as you pulled down the dirt road as your friends exchanged looks. Knowing it was a memory you tried to act like didn’t happen or matter. Parking your car and stepping out to a bonfire inside of an old oil drum, clearly having fun as you went to the keg. Filling yourself a solo cup with lukewarm beer and sipping at it, gagging lightly and going to take a seat on one of the many scattered blankets, lying back on the flannel as you hummed along to the music. Listening to the party ambiance as you let your friends wander a bit, having plenty of fun before feeling the blanket dip beside you as you turned beside you. Looking at Kingston who was smoking what was left of a cigarette. “Hey there…” he pushed his sunglasses down and gave you a lopsided grin as you hummed. “Hey yourself…” you crooned as he handed you another cup with lukewarm beer. Humming up at him as you carefully finished up the second cup of piss poor beer, that seemed to be making you sway a bit, the fact that you were a lightweight combining with the lack of lunch from earlier.

“So uh, you come to parties often?” Kingston asked as you drummed your fingers on the ground. “Not really, gotta take care of my sister, but I do love it when I have the opportunity to come.” You said softly as you felt him leaning closer, catching his drift as you put a hand up. “Um, I’m sorry but uh…if you’re trying to like, flirt or something? I’m not the right person to do it with.” You insisted as you looked over at Libby who was doing a terrible job of acting nonchalant whilst watching the two of you. “Libby really really likes you, and I don’t wanna…do that to her.” You explained as Kingston grinned in understanding. “Oh believe me, I’m aware…I’m just as into her, I just had a theory I had to test out.” He insisted as he looked past you. Turning your head to see a frustrated Eddie watching the two of you, blushing and looking away as you’d caught him gawking apparently. Laughing nervously to yourself as Kingston pulled a joint from behind his ear, handing it to you as he smiled. “For your trouble…” he got up shakily, walking off as you grinned. Lighting your joint as you caught yourself glancing back at Eddie who was rolling with laughter with his friends, the firelight casting shadows along his face as you grinned lightly to yourself. The beer softening your hate filled heart as you relaxed once more. Humming along to Seal before hearing the distant sound of sirens, eyes going wide as you sat up. Hearing distant tires treading on the dirt road as you shakily stood, making a run for it as you hissed a string of curses under your breath. The mixture of fear, the dark, the cool chill of the fall, and your inebriation getting you turned around before someone took your hand, sprinting to the center of the woods and pushing you to climb an old oak tree with well worn wooden steps up, nailed to the sides. Easing you up into the center as you gained your bearings. Hitting the blanketed center as you panted softly and looked around. Strangely familiar…and then it hit you. This was where Camp Love had been, where you’d spent nights with a young Eddie who had a boyish face and a sweet crush on you. Turning to look at who pushed you, Eddie’s big brown eyes reflecting the moonlight as you stared at him.

“What are you-“ he lurched forward to cover your mouth as he put a finger to his lips. The sound of the police pattering by underneath. His chest to yours as you heaved gently. Slowly reaching up to take hold of his wrist and remove his clammy hand once it quieted down. “I…thank you Eddie.” You insisted as he just nodded softly. “Whatever…don’t mention it.�� He muttered as you gently bumped his shoulder and sighed.

“This is weird, familiar…” he insisted softly as he frowned to himself. “I remember bringing you up here…I remember your braces cutting my lip.” He said with a soft laugh as you hummed lightly. “I remember we were close…” he added, though this had no jog behind it. “Why uh…why is that?” He questioned softly. And in that moment you realized he never knew why you hated him, why you resented every bit of him.

“You were my best friend Eddie…but…when my dad died you weren’t there for me…too busy with fucking hellfire.” You muttered as you looked at your feet. “You only cared about yourself and your interests, you were suddenly too cool for girls, or anything.” You insisted as you wiped your bleary eyes. “I called and went by and I did everything and you didn’t care,” you mumbled as he frowned lightly.

“I did what I thought was right.” He answered softly. “When my ma died I wanted to be alone, I wanted to understand in my own time, I didn’t want answers…I just needed time. I just thought you’d want the same. Which was shitty. I shouldn’t assume, I should have asked,” he insisted lightly. His hand inching over to yours as he linked pinkies with you. “I still care about you…you’re my best girl,” he whispered as he nosed gently against your cheek, earning a sigh from you.

“I care about you too…and I miss you,” you felt tears threatening to spill. “It’s been hard…I miss you coming by, and my mom and Lynnie ask about you all the damn time-“ the tears flowed freely now. “Eddie I needed you…and you weren’t there-“ your voice broke, and the heartbreak washed over him all at once. Pulling you to his chest as you sobbed softly. Petting your hair back as he frowned.

“I’m here now…I promise I’m here now.” He whispered, and you only held tighter, because you could feel that he meant it,

Tags: @munson-blurbs

#stranger things #eddie munson #addie writes #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic

129 notes · View notes

x-liv25-jamieswife · 15 days

Note

can i request hawthorne headcannons pls :)

hawthorne brothers head canons

hi! i think by this you mean hawthorne brothers so thats what im gonna do, but if you wanted smth else, feel free to request it. @ariscats helped with this one. hope you like them <3.

they absolutely love watching friends together. growing up, every friday night, they'd all make time to get together and watch a few episodes. avery, libby, and max joined their watch parties after ave inherited the money.

when they were kids, they once fought over which brother was the best. they all ended up making powerpoints about it and presenting them to each other (xander ended up winning bc he came up with some really fucking smart shit).

xander used to invite his brothers for tea parties at their treehouse. jamie, gray, and nash knew this meant a lot to xander so they always showed up even when they didn't want to.

xander once made his brothers sit through an entire speech where he just ranted about his favorite book boyfriends.

xander buys all of his brothers flowers every once in a while bc boys deserve to get flowers too.

jameson is usually the one who planned each other brother's birthday parties. whenever other people try to plan it, he comes in, says that his brothers deserve smth big and extragavant, kicks everyone out, and does it himself (no he doesn't end up pranking them. he genuinely comes up with things he knows his brothers would like and stuff)

we all know they have a 911, but they also have something called he 119 (or idk anything works) which they can use as many times as they want and its to tell their brothers that they wish to be alone.

for this to make sense, i hc that jameson loves the wear jewelry (rings, chain necklaces, etc). for jamie's 16th birthday, all of his brothers got him a customized ring with their initials engraved on the inside alongside 'i love you'. its quite simple for a hawthorne gift, but it meant a lot to him (bc tobias convinced him he's worthless) and it's now become his favorite ring (he never takes it off)

grayson's favorite painting he's made is a painting of all of his brothers at the beach having fun in the water. the picture he based himself off of to make the painting dated from before things went to shit with emily which is one of the reasons he loves the painting so much.

they always tease nash bc he's the shortest. sometimes he'll be getting smth off of a shelf (which he can reach perfectly fine), and xander or one of the others will pop up and be like 'let us help you, brother, we know you can't reach high places by yourself'

for halloween, one year, the three youngest ones dressed up as alvin and the chipmunks and nash dressed up as the old man who takes care of them in the movie (i forgot his name)

grayson had a phase where he hated taylor swift and nash and xander (even jameson) were horrified. they spent weeks converting him into a swiftie and it worked. gray is now ashamed of his taylor hater era.

when avery and jameson were in their like friends with benefits era in the hawthorne legacy, nash and xander would not leave him alone. they'd constantly be like 'you dumb fuck, you obviously have feelings for her' and he'd be like 'nah yall are crazy' (grayson was too busy ignoring his feelings)

jameson and grayson used to want to celebrate their birthdays at the same time (like one half of the house was decorated for jamie and the other for gray for two days) when they were younger, but, after emily started tearing them apart, they started to distance themselves from one another and stopped celebrating their bdays together (i think it was mentioned in tbh that they hated having their bdays so close to one another but im choosing to ignore that). for jamie's 20th bday (and gray's 21st), they decided to celebrate together again and xander and nash cried.

xander, jamie, and gray once found nash grinding against a pole (basically pole dancing) to i can fix him (no really i can) by taylor swift. they filmed it and sent the video to libby. they now play it at every single one of his bdays (and his wedding).

gray, xander, and nash filmed jamie a video for his birthday where they just yapped about how amazing he is and how much they love him. jameson managed to keep it together until he went up to his room for the night and started sobbing. his brothers found him and tried to comfort him. that entire day is like a core memory for them.

so this is a libby hc but my moot came up with it and i just couldn't not include it. avery and jameson are libby and nash's first kid's god parents. the kid is named sarah after what libby knew avery's mom as. even after she found out it wasn't her real name, she couldn'y bring herself to change her mind bc she decided on this name when she was nine. anyways, all of the brothers (and avery and max) will babysit the kid and gift her the loudest toys in existence just to piss of nash and libby.

when jamie started to self-destruct after emily, xander and him started to drift apart (they were very very close before it). they used to hang out all of the time, but, after emily, didn't really speak for almost a year. this is one of the reasons why xander accepted tobias request when he asked him to overlook the games in tig. he thought it would be an opportunity to get closer with jameson again.

when they were younger (not nash bc he was older), the youngest ones used to have a color for gifts if that makes sense. like all of jamie's gifts would be green, gray's would be grey, and xander's would be red (he gives off red energy). no one explicitly said they wanted the color, but it sort of just became a thing.

there's a dumb song in how i met your mother called nothing suits me like a suit. jamie and xander made it gray's ring tone (for calls, alarms, etc), and xan programmed it in a way that makes it impossible for gray to change it (only xan can).

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #libby grambs #xander hawthorne #maxine liu #tobias hawthorne

84 notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Not What You Expected - A Joel Miller Story

dad!Joel x f!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

They're still acclimating to life with baby Miller, a far cry from how they first met.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst-ish, mostly fluff tho

a/n | another installation in the Unexpected Expectings universe after much request! This can certainly be read as a standalone, but it's much more fun alongside the other pieces in this world :)

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

“She just spit up on me again, didn’t she?”

“Just a little. Here, I’ll get it.” Ellie huffs while she steps behind the girl to wipe off her shoulder where Libby just dribbled her breakfast. Perhaps not surprisingly, Ellie has been as hands on as she can be with her little sister, helping out at bath times, feeding her, reading to her. But she draws the line at changing diapers.

She sighs, stepping out from behind Ellie and leaning against the crib to take in the sight of her gently bouncing Libby in her arms, making ridiculous faces at her wide-eyed little sister and murmuring nonsense.

“You’re pretty cute, huh, Libs? That must come from your mom’s side because it sure as shit doesn’t come from Joel.” She can’t help but laugh at Ellie’s little jab, but, having just come into the doorway to the nursery, Joel seems to feel a bit differently, clearing his throat as he frowns at the girl.

“Kid, I’d rather that one’s first word isn’t some kind of swear, huh? Watch yourself.” It’s obviously lighthearted as Joel’s lips crook into half a grin and he shuffles over to Ellie to gently take Libby from her arms. Even after ten months, she’s still not over the sight of Joel Miller with a baby, with their baby, perched on his hip, his broad palm cupping her back. Ellie doesn’t seem over it either, snorting as she watches Joel rock side to side.

“Easy, killer. Gonna knock someone out with the blinding ray of sunshine you’ve turned into.” Joel scowls over the top of Libby’s head at Ellie who has dissolved into laughter, glancing over at his woman to see that she is also giggling. Not wanting to be left out, Libby lets out a shriek, bouncing her tiny fist against Joel’s cheek. He’s quick to smack kisses to her little fingers, grumbling as he does it.

“You three are gonna kill me, goddamn.”

“With the way you two talk, Libby’s gonna be swearing like a sailor before she can even walk.” Both Joel and Ellie grin at her exasperated look, Ellie sidling up next to her to swing her arm over her shoulder.

“You’re no better. Heard you let out a few choice words in the kitchen the other day when you dropped her bottle.” She huffs at Ellie’s smug look, nudging into her side.

“Alright, alright, kid. Don’t you have a shift starting soon?” Ellie glances at her watch, sighing.

“Ah, fuck.”

“Ellie.” Both she and Joel gripe at her words. Ellie just shrugs, already hustling out of the nursery to get to the stables. With the sound of the front door closing, they look at each other, shaking their heads. Some things never change.

Joel sighs, moving over to the rocking chair and sitting down with a groan as he shifts Libby to cradle her in his arms. She slips behind the chair to lean with her palms on his shoulders, smiling down at their girl who’s quickly dozing in her dad’s hold. She lays a kiss to his temple, and Joel cranes his neck to look at her questioningly.

“What was that for?” She shrugs, grinning crookedly at him.

“Nothing, my ray of sunshine.” She tries to quiet her laughs, not wanting to startle Libby awake, while Joel scowls at her teasing.

“Hey, ain’t the only one softening up, darlin.” She raises a brow at him and he smirks.

“Still remember when I met you. Practically feral, woman. Now look at you. Being all sweet. Wearing my clothes.” She scoffs as she thumbs the collar of the flannel, his flannel, that she’s wearing.

“Oh this? I just wear this whenever I think Libby’s gonna spit up. Better yours than mine, Miller.” He huffs at that as she snickers. She squeezes his shoulder as she continues.

“I may have softened a little. But if I’m remembering that day we met correctly, I did nearly kill you, so you better watch it, sunshine.” Joel chuckles lightly, still gently rocking their girl who is completely out now.

“Mm, I remember alright. Was pissed as hell at the time. But I can say this now – was the hottest thing I ever saw.” They both laugh, their minds now swirling with the memory.

With ten years come and gone, they can both still remember the day they met, clear as anything. Oh, how things have changed.

…

Boston QZ, 2016

He’s exhausted. Another day on burn detail, another day hustling pills to soldiers. The only bright spot, if you could call it that, is the deal he’s working on with Bill and Frank. He and Tess had managed to get their hands on a generator in one of the old apartment buildings, taking it apart to transport to Bill and Frank who had been having some trouble with their own. In return, Joel and Tess had been promised new guns, and ammo, something hard to come by unless you were with FEDRA or those damn fireflies. They’re planning to go in two days. Until then, he’s been keeping the parts under the floorboards in their apartment, so when he gets back to their place that night, Tess still out on some work detail, and lifts the boards to find the parts gone, Joel’s mind reels.

Racking his brain for any possible reason the parts could be moved, he lets out a quiet curse in frustration. He comes up with nothing and the word thief starts to blare through his mind like an alarm. His fingers rest on the hilt of the knife he keeps tucked in his belt as his eyes scan over the apartment. He tries not to let out a chuckle when he sees it. The closet by the door. He and Tess always left it open, didn’t keep anything in it. It’s closed firmly now. Got him.

He moves gingerly over to the closet, drawing out his knife as his hand settles on the doorknob. Before he can swing it open, however, someone is bursting out, knocking him to the ground, his knife skittering across the floor. He can’t get a good look at him as they tumble on the ground, hands at each other’s necks as they roll for dominance. He manages to pin the other man to the ground, but is shocked into stillness by what he sees. He is a she. She sneers at him, a toothy grin.

“Not what you expected, huh, Miller?” Before he can pick his jaw up off the floor, she’s kneeing him hard in the groin, effectively toppling him over as she pins him with her hands around his neck. He grabs at her hands, but she’s strong, stronger than she looks, pressing hard into the sides of his throat and making him gasp for air. He has seen her before, on a few work details, but he had no idea she had this kind of fight in her. It’s all he can do to choke out his question.

“You with Robert?” She laughs hard at that, fingers flexing in the sides of his throat.

“Hardly. His little band of idiots wouldn’t have the brain cells for this.” It’s getting harder for Joel to breath, black spots starting to fuzz his vision. She leans a little closer, unwavering gaze holding him still.

“You got two options here. Number one, you let me in on whatever little business you got going with Tess and I don’t kill you right now. Number two, I kill you and take your parts and your radio and figure it out myself.” He can’t help the wheezing laugh he coughs out. This woman has some serious balls. She doesn’t seem to like that though, her grip around his neck tightening until he really can’t breathe anymore, his legs flailing uselessly on the floor.

“That mean you’d prefer option two?” He shakes his head as best he can in her grip, trying to choke out the word no, and she seems to understand, releasing his neck but keeping him pinned with a forearm across his chest. Joel takes several heaving breaths, trying to clear the haze that had crept into his mind. The first real thought he has as oxygen returns to his brain is that she has pretty eyes. Angry, but pretty.

“I’m not letting you up until I hear you say it.” He takes a few more steadying breaths before he responds.

“I’ll let you in on our business. But you try any shit like this again, I’ll be quicker next time and you won’t get so lucky.” She huffs a laugh at that, finally letting up and sitting back on her haunches as Joel sits up. He rubs tenderly at his neck, wincing at the already forming bruises and muttering to himself.

“You got a grip on you, woman, goddamn. Some first impression.” He’s surprised when she holds out her hand to him. He’s more surprised that he actually takes it, shaking her hand lightly as she smirks at him, telling him her name.

“Figured I’d have to do things a little unorthodox to work with you two. And hey, looks like it worked.” All he can do is shake his head at this woman who has so suddenly become his business partner.

…

Jackson, 2026

“I was going easy on you. Caught me off guard. And you were pretty, even then. Didn’t wanna mess up your face.” She scoffs, nudging him in his side as they stand in front of the crib, watching their sleeping girl.

“Oh yeah? Tell that to the bruises you had on your neck for the next, what was it? Three weeks? Totally going easy on me, uh-huh, so easy you let me nearly crush your windpipe.” Joel huffs around a grin.

“Suppose that’s another thing our girl gets from you. You ladies sure know how to make an entrance.” She stifles her laugh behind her hand as they both dip out of the nursery. Before she can get too far down the hall, Joel slips a lazy palm around her one hip, turning her back toward him and smearing a brazen kiss across her lips, pulling away with a wet smack that makes her eyes widen. He just grins.

“What the hell was that for?” Joel keeps his one hand cupping her hip, the other coming up to stroke along the arc of her jaw as he sighs.

“All this talk of you crushing my windpipe has got me worked up, darlin. Take pity on a poor man, huh?” She lets out a sputtering laugh at his words, but he’s quick to silence her with another kiss, licking into her mouth like a heathen. She pulls back with a gasp, lightly smacking his chest as he gives her a smug smile.

“Watch it, Miller. Or I’ll have to finish what I started ten years ago.” He shakes his head.

“Has it really been ten years? Christ– that’s hard to believe.” She rakes her fingers through his hair as she hums at his words.

“I know. How the hell did we end up here, huh?” He sighs, glancing back into the nursery.

“No clue, darlin. I think you’re the one bit of luck I got in this fucked-up world.” Her fingers still, hands sliding down to wrap behind his neck. She can feel tears welling up hot and fast in her eyes, and to keep them at bay she steals another kiss from him, quick and chaste that leaves them both smiling.

“I’m glad I didn’t kill you, Joel.” He squeezes her hip, still smiling like a fool.

“I love you, darlin. Thank you.”

“What? For not killing you?”

“No. I mean– yes, that too. But, thank you for sticking with me. Fuck– for giving me all this. Just, thank you.” His thumb brushes away a rogue tear that has dripped down her cheek and she sighs under his touch.

“Well, now you’re just trying to make me cry, goddamn it.”

“Hmm, look who’s soft now, darlin.” She smacks his chest as he laughs at her exasperated expression, tugging her into a tight hug. She murmurs lowly into his shirt.

“I love you too, Joel. Love you so much.” They stay like that for a while, his arms wrapped firmly around her, her cheek pressed right over his heart. They’re finally broken out of their quiet moment by the sound of fussy coos coming from the nursery. Joel sighs, pulling away and squeezing her shoulders.

“I’ve got it, mama.”

“You sure? She probably needs a diaper change.”

“I’m sure I can handle that. You should get some rest, were up half the night after all.” She slackens under his touch, nodding lightly as he’s already moving back into the nursery.

She goes to head downstairs, but quickly stops when she hears him start to talk in a soft murmur to Libby. It’s a voice Joel won’t use if he knows anyone else is around, she had only caught him talking in it a few times to their girl, gentle and low. Ellie would have a field day if she heard him.

“Hey, baby girl. Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” She slides along the wall, stopping just outside the doorway to the nursery to listen in as Joel continues talking to Libby. She can hear Libby’s sweet babblings as Joel keeps murmuring to her.

“My girl’s a talker, aren’t you? Get that from your mama. Woman’s got a mouth on her, let me tell you. One of the things I like best about her. But don’t tell her I said that.” She presses her hand to her mouth, keeping in her giggle at his ramblings.

“I know your sister’s been trying to get you to say her name, but I’d really like it if your first word is mine. Also may have a little bet going with her, but I’ll split the winnings with you if you just say my name first.” She makes a mental note to smack both him and Ellie later for their “little bet,” but continues listening as Libby’s babbling picks up. Joel lets out a laugh.

“That’s it, baby girl. Just string ‘em together. Da-da. I know you can do it. Whip-smart just like your mama, huh?” Libby’s babbling continues, still just nonsense sounds and syllables. Joel sighs.

“Gonna do it in your own time, huh? Think you get that from me. That’s alright, baby girl. Ready whenever you are.” She figures he’s picking her up again from the hesitant coos Libby lets out, Joel quick to shush her.

“I got you, my girl. It’s ok. I got you.” She rests her temple against the wall outside the doorway, closing her eyes and continuing to listen to his gentle words to their girl.

“Love you so much, baby girl. Your mama loves you just as much, and your sister, even if she is already corrupting you. You’ve got all of us on your team, my girl. We’ve got you.”

She smiles to herself. It’s been a long ten years, most of it bad, some of it good. But they really have made a little team for themselves, a little family. It’s certainly not what she expected when she went into business with Joel Miller, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#unexpected expectings #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #joel miller one shot

538 notes · View notes

fanfic-inator795 · 5 months

Text

SPOILERS FOR “THE END”

Okay so, much like the ending of Amphibia, I’m sure this ending’s gonna be controversial for some people for being so bittersweet and for it also ending with the two BFFs splitting seemingly forever… but honestly? I fucking loved it.

While the penultimate ep felt slightly rushed and just a tad unsatisfying due to all they had to cram in and wrap up, I love that this show’s finale was ultimately focused on just Molly, Scratch, and the latter’s series-wide arc of changing for the better and “being brought back to life”, as the TGAMM show bible put it.

Having believed in the Wraith feeling since the start, I was afraid that the Todd reveal would feel rushed given that the crew lost the 3rd season of set-up they wanted, but thankfully it managed to feel fairly natural since - while Todd himself may have been a more subtle hint that you’d only notice if you were paying attention- again, Scratch’s arc and the clear changes we see from him are made known throughout the series. So by the time you finally get to the big payoff, it feels like a natural conclusion.

For all the info dumps we got, I also felt like the ep was pretty well paced as well, still having jokes that made me laugh so it never felt too heavy or melodramatic. I also love that all the major characters in Scratch’s life got to play a role in this one final adventure. I also love that - for as important of a role that Adia played in helping Scratch regain his memories - it wasn’t framed as Scratch choosing his old BFF over his new BFF, but simply Scratch choosing to be brave and live the life he always wanted deep down instead of continuing to run away/hold himself back.

As for what could be seen as the Most controversial bit - Scratch forgetting his time as a ‘ghost’ - I feel like this was incredibly well crafted too. Like anything else in TGAMM (and as Molly herself says) there’s still that spark of hope hinting at Scratch still remembering Molly and the impact she had on him. He’s going to live with those memories and the importance she gave to enhappifying in his heart, even when he doesn’t consciously remember these things.

What’s more, the show also subtly but beautifully emphasizes that even if Scratch won’t fully remember Molly and the others until he’s officially died, the time he spent and the things he did for others as a ghost still mattered - they’re still going to be remembered by Molly, the McGees and their friends, and I LOVE how they also brought back Scratch’s silly toboggan-sneeze curse as just another way a part of ghost-him is going to stick with all of them no matter what - no matter how far apart they are.

While I would have liked one final song (which, I guess we arguably did get that in the credits) I also feel like ending the show on Libby’s Maya Angelou quote was the perfect summation on the show’s core themes - to not just do good for others, but for yourself. To live your best and happiest life.

In my opinion, this truly was just a master class in satisfying series finales. We didn’t need any big final battles or a ton more drama, just one last beautiful character piece that isn’t afraid to be somewhat bittersweet in order to fully sell its message while also still being just as fun and enjoyable and lovely as the rest of the series.

Really, the only thing that makes me kinda sad is that Scratch never said goodbye to GhostShark - but hey, he’ll see him again eventually, and honestly my hc is that the Jeoffs are taking care of Sharkie for him in the meantime. Other than that, this was a 10/10 finale for me, absolutely no notes.

Now… obviously this was the finale that the TGAMM crew was always leading up to, I assume once they realized that they weren’t getting a s3 they asked Disney to give them one final ep to wrap things up. If that wasn’t the case though and this was always meant to be the s2 finale, I guess s3 would be about Todd slowly remembering his life as Scratch and eventually coming back to Brighton alongside Adia to help Molly stop Jinx’s revenge or whatever. But… eh, I personally don’t think that’s needed.

I think the show ended perfectly, leaving just enough ambiguous for fans to still imagine how Molly and Scratch’s adventures are going to continue one day while at the same time being super satisfying - probably the best series finale that we’ve seen out of any modern Disney cartoon.

#the ghost and molly mcgee #tgamm spoilers

98 notes · View notes

s-rosie · 12 days

Note

Pretty please make LibbyxNash hcs PLEASE🥺🥺🙏🙏

congratulations!!! you are lucky emoji 🍩 i hope you enjoy theseeeee

libby and nash tease ave and jameson RELENTLESSLY

libby bakes treats using ingredients she finds around the bars that nash bartends

everyone simps over both of them and thinks they are perfect for each other

they square dance together

nash got libby a pony for her birthday and she named it sprinkles

whenever nash takes lib on a date, he always tips his hat and kisses her hand (she blushes every time)

when they have a kid, they are the best parents ever

nash writes sappy acoustic guitar songs for libby

libby takes note of what his favorite desserts are, and makes an ultimate dessert for him on his birthday

they read romance books together

libby does nash’s eyeliner sometimes (he looks HELLA HOT)

nash will walk around with her black lipstick smeared on his face/neck with no clue (no one tells him, they just snicker) (i saw something like this already but thought it was cute so i put it on mine)

libby does happy little dances when she is on the phone with nash, she also can’t stop smiling/blushing while reading his texts

they watch soap operas together and make fun of them while also being absolutely locked in

they make fun of each other’s aesthetics in a loving way

whenever someone plays smash or pass with her, she will pass every one until nash, then instead of saying smash, she says sNASH

libby loves hello kitty (shes still emo ik), so whenever nash sees anything hello kitty, he gets it for her

they go on riding trails to little secluded spots where they have picnics and libby makes treats

just like ave and jamie, they make scrapbooks of things they do together

they go to rodeos and hoedowns together and steal the show

libby kisses nash on his nose, and nash kisses lib on her forehead

i hope you enjoyed reading these as much as i enjoyed making them. please leave me recommendations on what to make next. remember to take care of yourself! tysmmmm

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #libby grambs #nash hawthorne #libbynash

31 notes · View notes

kernyen-xo · 3 days

Text

Long time!

Firstly, how y’all been? I’ve been wandering in from time to time and reading some of your posts. I just haven’t felt like posting myself until now.

Here we go.

What In the World: I walked out of Daiso and almost gave this woman a heart attack trying to get into my parked vehicle. My first thought was why in the world was this lady sitting in my vehicle, and why in the world the driver’s seat of all things?! I mean, why not the passenger side or the backseat?? And, why won’t my key unlock the door!? And then, almost immediately, after trying to open the door a second time, I was like, “Hold on now.. Uh oh. Oh no, this isn’t my vehicle!” Holy hot pockets! I immediately backed away, put up my hands, and told her, “I’m sorry,” several times, and then said, “My mistake, wrong car.” She just stared at me through the closed window, scared shitless. In case she didn’t understand what I said, I stepped back and gave her a respectful bow, and then hurriedly got into my car, which was parked in the next row. I hoped that when she saw me drive away, she was able to put 2+2 together because we had the same vehicle (same make, model, and color). Needless to say the humiliation of it all stuck with me the remainder of the day. I am such a dweeb.

Houston, We have a Problem: Went to Houston last month for my niece’s wedding. I just want to say that I don’t get why Houston is the 4th most populous city in our nation. I mean, the weather. It is pretty miserable. It was super humid and most of us were bitten by these mutant mosquitoes! Every wedding event my niece had was outdoors or it didn’t have A/C. Like the inside pickleball courts. She had a farewell outdoor crawdad boil for her guests, and the wedding and reception were also outdoors. All the events were pretty much held in the Heights area, which despite the weather is a nice historical area. But, you know what? I was glad that I went to Houston because my niece had a great wedding. I loved catching up with my nieces and nephews! I loved the serve yourself margaritas machines! Great people and great food and drinks! The kid and I went to Tenfold, a popular coffee place where I had my first cold brew with lemonade. It was was delicious and refreshing. On another day, the kid and I walked to have breakfast at this cafe with a great vibe. Attached to it was an antique shop, which we perused after we ate. We also did some shopping at Rice Village. We wanted to visit San Antonio but our schedule couldn’t spare the time.

The Kid Jr: My granddaughter graduated from the 8th grade last week! I’m so proud of her. I gave her a Kindle, which I was pretty excited about because she’s starting to enjoy reading, something she didn’t like before.

Saying Good-bye: I also attended my aunt’s funeral last week. Out of 8 kids, it’s just my mom and Uncle Junior that remains. It seems like yesterday when my generation of cousins were kids and our parents were still young and getting into their own shenanigans. It was a sad and bittersweet day. There were a lot of relatives that I didn’t even know, all of them cousins.

Books: I splurged. I decided I needed to start building up my personal library. It’s been a while since I’ve bought an actual book. I have been reading on my kindle or listening to audiobooks from the library app, Libby. It was time to start reading from actual books and adding to my home library. I used to have over 1,000 books but I got rid of most of them because it was becoming too much to pack and move them - especially when I was moving about 3 times a year. But now I have my own home and I’m not planning to move - at least for 5 years.

So, let the book buying begin!

The current book:

If you love birds, you’ll enjoy this book. Amy Tan’s backyard is a bird’s paradise. In this world of birds, you’ll learn about their habits, heartbreak, wonderful curiosities about the whys and why nots of birds’ actions. A lot of times unexplained, but if you are an avid bird watcher like Amy, her reasonings as to why the out of ordinary behaviors were interesting and entertaining. You will enjoy her drawings too.

The Kid and Me: Here’s what we did at the wedding 😆

The beautiful bride and her groom:

(Houston, The Heights May 2024)

How can they look so good in the sticky weather?

The Kid takes a picture of Yours Truly: (Grass Valley, May 2024)

My Loves:

(Sac-Town May 2024)

This post has been brought to you by Toodles, Inc.

#this has been a kernyen update #20240617

30 notes · View notes

flowercrowncrip · 1 year

Text

Here's some things I found useful while house/bedbound for @crengarrion and anyone else who might find it useful. Being house/bedbound is incredibly shit, these are things that helped me, but they didn't by any stretch make it easy.I want to point out that this is just what helped me, so may not be good for everyone. Anyone with experience is very welcome to add on things that have helped them.

hobbies I especially found creative hobbies were the best for me. I used to keep an art journal in an old Filofax that would have bits of writing, collages and paintings about different things I was feeling, experiencing, or wanting to experience. It wasn't technically amazing, but it was very personal and satisfying to make as well as being an outlet for all the shit feelings that come with being stuck in bed/at home. Other things I've done are fibre arts, colouring and writing (bad) poems.

Learning new things the Libby app is my friend here for getting e-books and audiobooks, and there's also YouTube and documentaries. BBC sounds has some good audio documentaries and podcasts, I also find language learning good for engaging my brain in different ways.

Find a community this one is especially challenging when you're stuck at home. But online communities are great, and there are various online social groups that use things like zoom or discord. I have an online queer group group I go to when I can't get out, there's also lots of disability specific ones if you look around online.

Life having something alive can make a huge difference, whether it's a houseplant, a pet (or your friends pet that can come in for short visits) or cut flowers have all made noticeable difference to my mood when stuck in the same place. If you're lucky enough to live somewhere where there is a view out the window, do what you can to make sure this is accessible (before I moved I had a mirror hanging so that I could see out the window while in bed)

Routine it can be really hard to have a routine when you can't go out. Things like eating at the same time, changing from day clothes to night clothes (even if both are pyjamas), trying to shower a set number of times a week, or always having a cup of tea in the evenings… Basically anything that gave structure to my days and my weeks was good. Having a TV show or podcast that comes out on the same day each week can give you something to look forward to. This was probably the thing I struggled with the most.

As for practical stuff, having the right equipment makes a world of difference. Some of it can be hard to access/expensive depending on what support you are eligible for or even exists where you live. If you're bedbound, having way to sit up comfortably in bed (if you're able to sit) makes a huge difference. If you are able to get a profiling bed I would 100% recommend it, but those are expensive if you have to fund it yourself. An alternative is that there are loads of specialist cushions or wedges you can get online at various prices. An over bed table will properly make your life a lot easier as well if you can get one.

If anyone else wants to add anything, please do!

97 notes · View notes

dallysnecklace · 2 years

Note

heyy! I saw the soft reader x Dallas and I loved it! I saw wondering if you could do another where he’s at the diner with the gang and the reader is there with a friend and Dallas hears her laugh and it reminds him of his mother and he just keeps staring at the reader and he tries to distract himself and the gangs like Dallas are you even listening? Have a good day💗

Dallas Winston x soft! F! Reader

Once again I love the idea of polar opposites being together, and I kinda imagined him just seeing her for the first time, and what that would be like for the two of them. Have a lovely day aswell! Thank you for the request, I LOVED writing this

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, death of a loved one (breast cancer), immigration from Italy due to WWll, and not edited because I’m tired and wanna sleep LMAO

Dallas Winston was a known player.

Everybody knew that.

Except, maybe, you. The sweet girl who’s favorite hobby is reading, always has her head in the clouds, and is very much a loner. However, you enjoyed being alone.

You loved not having to worry about gossip, drama and all of that stuff. All you worried about was your best friend, Libby, and your books. You had recently started Dune, and fell in love with it. You weren’t going to lie, you loved a long book that could keep you entertained for more than just a few days. This way, you could put off spending time with Libby.

You loved Libby, she was very sweet, but high energy. Every time you go out with her, you need to take a break because she drains you.

But here you are at the diner, next to Libby, and her telling a ridiculous story about her cousin, that you weren’t really paying attention to. Dune was just really interesting, okay?

A few seats over at a booth, sat the entire Curtis gang. Yes, the entire Curtis gang at a booth meant for four people. Dallas was sitting on a pulled up chair at the end of table, holding a black cup of coffee that he had ordered, meanwhile the other boys shared milkshakes and a basket of fries.

Ponyboy had just won his first track tournament of the year, and everyone insisted on celebrating.

Dallas, like you, needed alone time. He loved his gang, they were pretty much his support system, but he stayed quiet except for the occasional teasing or chuckle.

A waitress walked by your table and you called out, “Excuse me?” She turned to look in your direction, plastering on a fake smile.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, but could I please get a cup of breakfast tea, with milk and sugar?” You felt bad for her. She was obviously overworked and tied.

The waitress smiled at your kindness and walked away, writing down your tea in her notebook so she wouldn’t forget.

Libby perked up at the sound of your order.

“Seriously y/n? Another cup of that disgusting dirt water?”

“Okay, first of all it’s not dirt water, and it most definitely is not disgusting!” You defended yourself, voice growing a bit louder and higher.

This peaked Dallas’ attention. He heard you from a few tables over, looked over, and studied you for a second. You were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. Not in a basic kind of way, but you just looked unique. It intrigued him. For the first time he was just admiring something beautiful, not looking at a girl as a quick fuck.

“My dad is British, and so I drink tea. It’s simple.” The waitress from before returned to your table, and set down your tea in front of you.

“Jesus Libby you really are missing out this shit is good.” You sighed, taking a sip from your beloved cup.

“No that shit sucks y/n. Just like my cousin with her boyfriend.”

You looked at Libby, your jaw dropped, wondering how you missed this part of the story! You started to laugh, your loud, giggly, unique laugh. You hated it and you mad at Libby for knowing she would make you laugh with that comment. You hit your friend on the shoulder and continued to giggle, you just found it so funny!

The sound of your laugh made Dallas whip his head back to you, his eyes wide open. He thought he heard his mother.

His mother was the sweetest women he ever knew. She loved books, the stars, Brooklyn, and cinnamon. She had so much love in her heart for the whole world, even though it had treated her horribly. She immigrated from Italy in her teens, and while traveling her father fell ill and passed away. She arrived in America, alone, and ended up living with her distant Uncle. At a young age, her Uncle made her marry Dallas’ father. An older man who was quite wealthy. Though soon into their marriage, he lost all his money to gambling. The couple was poor, and this led to his fathers abuse.

But his mother would always stay positive, no matter what. She laughed every day with her son, making sure he knew how to. When Dallas turned 15, she passed away from breast cancer. This led Dallas to destructive habits. Why did the world have to be so cruel to such a kind person? He never understood.

He has never found someone as pure as his mother. And maybe that’s why he goes through so many girls. He’s trying to find someone with that same happiness and love for the world. But, maybe he’s just found that person.

Sodapop noticed Dallas was ever distant from the conversation, and followed his eyes, landing on the beautiful Y/n.

“Y/n.” Soda broke the silence between the two.

“What?” Dallas replied, not looking away from you.

“Y/n L/n. You’re staring at her. I mean shes real beautiful Dal. Maybe you can actually get a girlfriend instead of a one night stand.” Soda laughed and and punched Dallas’ arm, making him turn away from you.

“Do you know her? What is she like? Why have I never seen her before?” He questioned.

The rest of the table noticed Dallas’ weird behavior.

“Hey what’s going on?” Pony asked

“I think Dallas has a crush on y/n!” Soda teased.

The rest of the boys turned to look in your direction, and you spotted them peaking over the seats to look at you. You gave them a weird look, and they quickly ducked back into their seats.

“Think she noticed us?” Two asked.

“Yeah dumbass she totally did.” Steve answered, shooting a glare at the boy.

Pony looked back to Dallas.

“She’s really sweet Dal. She loves to read, and wants to be an astrologer. She’s always got her head in the clouds though.” Pony answered Dals long forgotten questions.

“She’s kinda a loner. I only know her through book club, but I don’t think she’s ever had a boyfriend or anything like that. She’s not a grease either, but she’s not rich. She’s too sweet to be a grease though.” Ponyboy finished, staring to delve into his own head.

Darry looked to Dallas.

“Why? Do you want to be with her or something?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“She sounded like my mom when she laughed, it just, it was like she was in the room.” He said, looking at you.

Darry was the only one in the gang who knew about Dallas’ past, and how he wanted to find a girl who was like his mom. He wanted to encourage Dallas to talk to you.

But your eyes suddenly met Dallas’. You both stared at each other, basking in the somehow comfortable eye contact. You didn’t recognize this boy, but wow did he look beautiful. His jawline and cheek bones were pronounced in the lighting, making him look sharp. Yet, he had these cute lips that made him look adorable at the same time. It was a mixture that made butterflies in your stomach start to emerge. You smiled at him, and waved.

Dallas and you were fully being watched by your friends, but at that moment you couldn’t notice the rest of your surroundings.

He smiled back at you, muttered a “hi” and turned back to his table, a small blush apparent on his cheeks.

Libby turned to you, shell-shocked.

“I think Dallas Winston might have a full on crush on you y/n. Holy shit! This is insane oh my god!” She shouted.

“Shut up!” You giggled and put your hands over her mouth.

“Go talk to her!” Darry ushered Dallas out of his seat and towards you. Dallas had never been nervous talking to a girl before, this was very weird for him.

You heard footsteps approach your table, and you looked up, meeting the eyes of the boy you thought was ever so pretty.

“Uh, Hi. I’m Dallas.” He said, holding his hand out for you.

“Hi.” You placed your hand in his, and he brought it to his lips, kissing it gently, making you giggle.

“I just wanted to say I heard you laugh earlier, and it felt familiar so I looked over and I saw you. You’re just real beautiful, so do you want to go out sometime? Like a date?” He asked, now sitting down at the table with you.

You blushed having never been on a date before. “Yeah I would love that.” You excitedly answered, a smile very present on your face.

“Great uh-“ He looked at his friend and yours watching you two intently.

“Do you want to go outside real quick?” He asked you. You nodded, and he offered you his hand while you walked out the doors, sitting on a bench nearby.

“Do you want to go to the movie house with me? My favorite book is being turned into a movie and I need to see it?” You suddenly asked Dallas. You were quite nervous.

“Yeah man, here’s my number.” He wrote it down on your hand.

“Okay. I’ll call you tonight.” You smiled again, beaming at the boy with the moonlight covering his features.

“Can I- I know this is real soon but I wanta kiss you, doll. That okay?” He bashfully asked, not wanting the moment to end.

You nodded and quickly his lips met yours, melting together. He tasted like bitter coffee and you tasted like sugar. The perfect mix, they balanced each other out. You pulled away.

“WOW!” You said and then your hands flew to your mouth, embarrassed you said that aloud.

“Uh- I’ll call you tonight Dallas thank you!” You walked to your car, seeing Libby wait for you there.

“I’ll be waiting!” He replied.

“Libby did that just happen. Holy- oh my god!” You screamed. Libby jumped into your arms capturing you in a hug.

“I told you that you were the most wonderful girl in the planet and that the right guy would come eventually didn’t I?” She looked at you.

“I think I’m going to marry that man. I’m not joking Libby.” You said.

Dallas overheard this entire conversation, along with the rest of the gang, who walked right out of the diner after he had kissed you. Darry walked up to Dallas, patted him on the back and smiled at him. Dallas returned a very genuine true smile, and Darry was so happy that Dallas finally found someone that made him so happy.

You two ended up getting married, just like you had said. Dallas felt like his mom was there the whole ceremony, watching over both of you. He was right, she was.

#the outsiders imagine #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston imagine #dally winston #headcanons #sodapop imagine #steve randle #darry curtis #dallas winston x reader #dallysnecklace #dally x reader #the outsiders dally

777 notes · View notes

rustedhearts · 1 year

Text

Montana Motel (Boxer!Steve x Fem!reader)

summary: lately, steve’s been existing at a distance. but at a motel in montana, you find each other again.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the steve collection ♡

warnings: angst, Steve being a dick as usual, possessive behavior, toxic behavior/argument, smut, hair pulling, choking (ish?)

author's note: you know the drill, kids. listen to western nights by my girl ethel ♡ can be found in the steve + libby playlist ♡

somewhere in montana, august 1990

The road is empty.

A long, winding stretch of grey asphalt against green land. Wide expanses of looming trees can be seen through every window of the SUV, and just up ahead through the windshield, the pale blue sky awaits. Montana seems to be full of nothing but land, and you can't imagine where Steve's fight could be amidst the miles of wilderness—but they called, and Steve came.

Beside you in the backseat, Steve's head knocks into the glass with every bump and jostle in the road. He seems unaffected, arms crossed, shades on, head lolling around. You came straight from his last fight in Washington, and Big and Mikey decided that a road trip was in order, to "see the sights." You weren't seeing very many confined in the blacked out car, but you supposed it was the thought that counts.

Your luggage fills the trunk—the same bunch of clothing you'd been wearing for weeks, with a few additions from Steve picked up along the way. It's been nonstop. Fight, sleep, travel, repeat. He never stopped. Sometimes, on the few sporadic days that he had off between fights, all Steve did was sleep. He could barely move with the welts on his abdomen and spine. He could only open his jaw a few inches to shove in a spoon or fork, and you had to pretend you didn't see the way he winced with every blink and swallow. Boxing was like having an eternal flu—you were always sore, you were always in pain.

Steve was never himself anymore.

You faced each other when you slept, but he never held you anymore. His lips brushed your cheeks, pecked your lips, but he rarely kissed you. Not a real kiss, not the way you wanted. The last time you made love was four fights ago, in Chicago. A month ago. It wasn't as if you hadn't tried—there were nights you were so restless that you writhed in the tub and pouted in the elevator on the way up to the hotel room. But Steve was always too tired, too sore, too angry. He was always angry.

Comfortability was a foreign feeling these days. You never stayed in one city long enough to get familiar. You often found yourself sitting on white hotel beds, with cold hotel sheets, staring at the plastic hotel telephone. You had your parents' landline memorized, and you repeated the numbers in your head until you were too frazzled to think of much else. You picked up the phone, dialed the number, and slammed it back down. Sometimes, you didn't dial anything at all.

You just listened to the dial tone humming, trying to imagine the sound of your father's voice breaking through. You worried that if you were to call, he'd hear it in your voice—how tired you were. How sad you were. He'd tell you to come home, and you'd listen.

But what about Steve? You looked at your boxer drooling on his arm beside you, just as Big whipped the wheel into the half-empty lot of a truck stop. Wasn't everything about Steve?

The car came to a stop, pulled in front of a rusting gas pump. Big popped the locks and hooked his chin over his shoulder to gaze back at you.

"Hey, wanna get out, stretch your legs? We can stay for a bit and get something to eat."

You flashed a smile, one that ached hollowly in your chest, and nodded your agreement.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

The hulking, bald-headed man tossed a look toward his sleeping protege. "Good luck waking that one up."

You giggled, assuring you'd be fine. Big stepped out of the car, jostling it with a slam of his door after. Mikey excused himself and followed suit, and you watched him sprint toward the bathroom sign bow-leggedly. With their departure, the car fell quiet. You turned to Steve again, clicking your seatbelt off. You rummaged through your purse at your feet and pulled Steve's wallet out of the zipper compartment.

"Steve." You reached over and rattled him by the shoulder gently. "Steve, do you want anything to drink?"

You waited. He continued to snore, glasses knocked askew on his squished face pressed into the window. You snickered, petting his arm.

"Stevie? I can get you a Gatorade if you want," you cooed.

Crouching over him, you waited for his response, but all he did was squirm and turn to cower against the window. You huffed, pulling on his arm a little harder.

"Steve—"

"Jesus, Libby!" He yanked his arm away, knocking into the window and causing you to jump back.

"I don't fuckin' care, I'm tryin' to fuckin' sleep. Christ," he roared.

Heart sinking, stomach twisting, you swallowed hard and popped the door handle. At the gas pump outside of the window, Big peered through the dark tint with scrunched brows.

"Okay...I'll just...be right back," you murmured weakly, slipping out of the car.

The air was warm, warmer than it was a few hours ago. It warmed your air-conditioned fingers and frozen nose, and the wind that billowed through your hair felt gentle and soothing as you headed toward the convenience store. A bell above the door chimed with your arrival, greeted with buzzing white lights, neon beverage storage, and aisles of processed food. You trailed your fingers along the packets of candy on the shelves as you headed toward the refrigerators. Your heart was in your throat as you pulled it open and shivered in the cool air.

A water, a blue Gatorade, and a meekly-asked-for pack of Marlboros reds later, you stood in front of the glass door and stared at the car. Steve was still nowhere to be seen, sulking inside the blackened confines of the SUV. Suddenly, as Big and Mikey chuckled about some shared joke between them, and feverishly lit a cigarette on the curb near the restroom, you didn't want to go back out.

"Need some help with that door?"

Whirling around, you giggled nervously at the sight of a man standing behind you. Tall, dressed in what you could only describe as lumberjack attire, donning a backwards red baseball cap—he had a cigarette tucked behind his ear and smiled beneath a scraggly red beard. He was ruggedly handsome, in an unkempt, wild way. But still, your skin crawled, your hair stood to its end at the back of your neck when he dragged his tongue over his teeth and soaked you in with a slow roam of his eyes.

"N-No," you stuttered, cheeks burning. "I just...I was just—"

"Here, let me help you carry those."

Before you could protest, the tall man gathered your drinks in his hands—eyeing you with vivid surprise at the cigarettes in your other hand—and shoved the door open with his arm. He stood in front of it to prop it open, motioning toward the warm, open air of the lot.

"After you." He grinned.

You wiped your hands on the pleated fabric of your shorts anxiously as you passed through. You could feel his figure behind you, following your slow ascent toward the car. Your gaze flashed to Big and Mikey, blowing puffs of smoke and chatting endlessly. They hadn't noticed you yet. You swallow hard again, turning once you were halfway to the car to smile at the stranger.

"I can take those now, you really didn't have to do that."

He shrugged, smiling another handsome smile.

"It's no problem. I can pump your gas, too. Pretty girls shouldn't have to pump their own gas—this your car right there?"

You stuttered again, face burning and swollen with heat, shirt clinging to your spine with sweat. Big and Mikey were heading toward you, cigarettes stamped out. You suddenly couldn't breathe.

Behind you, the back door to the SUV opened and slammed closed in one quick succession.

"Hey! The fuck are you doin' man?"

Steve was standing beside you in an instant, voice as gravely and roaring as earlier. You couldn't help but flinch when he grabbed your wrist and yanked you close. Your eyes found a wad of bubblegum flattened to the pavement.

"Oh, I...I was just helpin' her out, man. Didn't mean anything by it—"

"—I'd hope the fuck not," Steve sneered.

Big and Mikey roamed toward the car, and you glanced over Steve's shoulder at their departing backs. The car jostled again as they slid into the front seats.

"Steve," you sighed, lifting your eyes to his chest, clothed in black. "He was just being nice. He didn't—"

"—uh huh. I'll take my shit now, man."

The stranger extended the drinks slowly to Steve, who snatched them rudely with a continuous glare. Your fingers trembled around the Marlboros clutched to your chest as you followed his pulling guidance toward the car. You gazed off over your shoulder at the flanneled man, hoping the sorry in your eyes was evident enough.

Steve gave you a gentle shove into the backseat, but the slam of the door was anything but kind. You jumped, and Big sighed as Steve stomped around the hood of the car toward his side.

"He's just tired," the older man assured you.

All you could do was nod.

Steve was still scowling when he slid into the backseat beside you, and you kept your eyes on your knees as you flipped the pack of cigarettes over in your palm.

"I got you a new pack," you murmured sheepishly, holding them out. "I thought—"

"—why the fuck do you always have to flirt? Huh? Every time I look away, some fuckhead is suddenly all over you."

You frowned at his sharp accusation, but when he reached with a quick hand to take the Marlboros, you snatched them away. It was your knuckles that hit the window this time, and though the collision filled your hand with a dull ache, you couldn't find it in yourself to care. You only glared at Steve, whose eyes were hard and on display without his shades. Steve tipped his chin down and huffed at your behavior.

"Fuck you. How is this suddenly my fault? I was only trying to do something nice, and you find some way to yell at me.” You frowned.

Steve rolled his eyes, rubbing at his temple.

"Yeah, and I'm sure you thought that jackass was 'just being nice,' too. You never see what I see—you never see what fuckin' creeps these guys are!"

Steve smacked his hand on his knee, and your glare deepened. Big and Mikey shared a look in the front seat.

"I don't give a fuck! I was in there buying my boyfriend cigarettes, I don't care about some random guy. I shouldn't even care about you with the way you treat me."

Steve barked out a laugh, eyes rolling toward the window where he swiped a finger under his nose.

"Wow, okay. You were fuckin' shaking me, Libby, while I was trying to fuckin' sleep—"

"—but you don't always have to yell at me. You always yell at me."

Steve shrugged his shoulders, holding his hands up, palms upended.

"Alright, I'm fuckin' sorry I yelled at you!"

"No you're not—"

"—see? It's not good enough. Nothing is ever fuckin' good enough for you."

You growled, squishing the pack of Marlboros in a tight fist and subsequently tossing the crumpled pack at Steve's forehead. His face instantly fell at the gentle impact, and you popped the door handle open again to jump out of the car.

"I'm sick of this shit!" you screeched, just before slamming the door and stomping off toward the restrooms.

The sounds of Big and Mikey shouting at Steve followed you there, and you decided, upon staring at the dirtied steel door, that you'd sit on the curb instead. You plopped down, putting your elbows to your knees and your knees to your chest, and huffed. You wished you could call your father. You wished he would tell you to come home.

"Babyyyy."

Steve's voice came from across the lot, and you scowled into your hands over your face. His shoes scuffled closer, and finally came to a stop in front of you. His looming figure blocked the remnants of sun still shining through the evening.

"Angel," Steve scoffed, and you could picture him reaching out, only to pull back. "Come on, let's just...let's just go."

"Go where," you droned into your hands.

Steve sighed.

"Let's go home—"

"—but we're not going home," you interrupted, lifting your head to tip back and look at him.

Steve's face was blank, empty, like it always was. You stared at him for a moment, waiting for some semblance of softness to shine through and soothe you. But his hands just found his hips, and he shrugged his shoulders.

"Dunno what you want me to do, angel," he muttered, gazing down at his shoes to watch them kick at the curb you were sitting on. "S' my job, it's just...what I gotta do."

You huffed, looking off toward the slow moving road past the lot of the truck stop. Cars chugged by at a comical rate, so slow that you could study the face of every driver and read every license plate. At your silence, Steve sighed, and this time you watched him reach out, only to recoil and run his hands through his hair.

"Baby, I..."

Steve sighed again, and then suddenly it morphed into a growled—his fist connected with his palm, a sharp smack that echoed off the cement wall behind you. He stepped away, putting distance between the two of you.

"I fuckin'—I hate when you do this. I hate when you make me feel guilty for doin' my fuckin' job."

Your cheeks swelled with more heat, and you sank your teeth into your lip to keep the wobbling tears at bay as they kissed your eyes. You rubbed at one of them furiously. Steve came back with a scuffled stride and hovered, palms held out in front of him—out to you.

"I love you. You get that?"

Steve bent, leveling your faces, crowding you. You cowered back, still refusing to meet his gaze. But you could see him in your periphery, dark-eyed and brooding. His voice was tight, sharp, edged with impatience.

"I love you. And you just...you fuck with my head. You fuck with my head, and it makes me go fuckin' crazy." He tapped his temple with two fingers like a pistol.

You shook your head, letting go of your swollen lip.

"You just feel so far away, Steve," you whispered. "It's like you're not even there anymore."

Steve guffawed, making another sweeping motion with his open palms toward himself. "I'm right here."

You crossed your arms over your lap and frowned, looking off toward the car where Big and Mikey waited. Big's finger tapped the wheel in the driver's seat. You wondered how they had the patience to put up with the two of you.

"I’m right here, baby.” Steve kicked at the curb again, hair flouncing across his eyes as he shook his head. “What more do you want from me?" His voice had the faintest whimper of a whine.

You pulled your eyes away from the car and set them on his feet. You reached out and pulled on the laces, adjusting them around the arch of his foot. You twisted the dirtied white lace around your finger, and Steve watched you.

"I just...want you to show me, Stevie."

When you tipped your head back—the prettiest pout on your face, eyes catching the low-setting, golden sunlight, hair glistening and glowing—Steve's breath caught in his throat.

"Show me you love me."

Steve's brows rounded, furrowing together.

"I do. Baby, I thought...I-I do."

You shook your head.

"Not for a long time, Steve."

Steve's shoulders drooped, and you tore away from his shoe. You pushed off on your palms and stood, avoiding his hand reaching out for you. You still wore that pretty pout as you sulked toward the car.

Back inside, they turned on the radio, and Steve fumbled for the crumpled back of Marlboros as the car rolled back onto the road.

♡♡

Half the pack was gone by the time you reached nightfall. Still a few hours from your destination, far from civilization and deep in the mountains, Big pulled into the nearest motel for the night. You lingered in the back as they secured your rooms, and trudged after Steve quietly when he got your key.

The motel was smaller and much cheaper than what you were used to, but it was quiet. Surrounded by trees, insects and birds chittered and chirped as you ascended the metal stairs. The room smelled distinctly of cedar when Steve pushed the door open, and, oddly, you found it soothing. You dropped your bags on the bed, covered in a pale pink quilt. The sheets were green, pulled and folded neatly over the top quarter of the quilt. The pillows were fluffed and neatly stacked, and everything seemed to have gone untouched for decades.

Steve clicked on a small lamp, sitting on a wooden desk across from the bed. The walls, wood-paneled and rough, illuminated with a warm yellow glow. He swung the door closed and tossed the keys on the nightstand, duffel falling from his shoulder to sit beside your bags on the bed. You wandered toward the bathroom, and Steve stood, at the end of the bed, watching after you longingly.

The overhead light in the bathroom was dim, but it bathed you in the reflective, peachy pink of the gleaming tile. Steve watched as you stood in the doorway, hesitating to close the door with your back to him. His breathing grew shallow just watching you contemplate. Finally, you turned, but your eyes merely skimmed the end of the bed as you swung the door shut. The lock clicked, and Steve sank down on the end of the bed with a knot in his stomach.

The bathroom was cold, and you shivered as you peeled your sticky clothes off and toed them into a corner. It was clean, at least, and you turned the knob over to hot and filled up the deep, salmon-colored porcelain tub. You sighed as you sank into the wading warmth of the water, easing back against the cold tile with another shiver. Sporadic droplets plopped into the pool around you from the rusting spout, and you listened with your eyes closed. The other side of the door was silent.

You used the dry, rose-scented soap still in its dusty box on the edge of the tub and scrubbed until you felt clean enough to leave the water. Too eager for solitude, you'd left a change of clothes in your bag on the bed, and you clutched a scratchy towel tight to your chest as you cracked the bathroom door open.

The motel room was empty, but through the open curtains at the head of the room, you could see Steve clearly against the metal railing. Leaning forward on his elbows, the orange ember of a cigarette illuminating his face with a faint orange halo. You pushed the bathroom door open all the way and walked toward the bed.

Your towel had just dropped when Steve turned to peer in. He stopped at the sight of your bare body, cigarette paused before his parted lips. His mouth went dry just at the sight of you—his girl. His angel, his baby, the prettiest woman he'd ever seen. If you knew he was watching, you pretended otherwise. He watched your torso stretch and your arms lift to fit a t-shirt over your body, and when it fell to your thighs, he knew it was his. You bent and shimmied to fit a pair of panties over your hips, and when you spun around to pull your hair away from your face, he exhaled heavily at the sight of your black lace-clothed ass, round and waiting.

Chest tight and jeans pulsing, Steve hurriedly stamped his cigarette out on the railing and rushed for the door. You whirled around in a fright at the latch opening, and paused as Steve pushed the door closed behind him. The stench of Marlboros overwhelmed your rose soap immediately. Your fingers twisted in the hem of his soft, faded red t-shirt over your thighs as he toed his sneakers off. He instantly became an inch shorter. He snapped the curtains shut, and in the soft glow of the lamplight, he faced you again. You swallowed as he padded toward you.

He stopped at the edge of the bed. You hadn't moved. You were a corner of a mattress apart. He could see every shaky lift and fall of your chest. You could see every flicker of his eyes, bouncing around your form. His hands twitched at his sides. His throat bobbed with a swallow. The wet sound of his tongue gliding over his lips made your hair stand to attention. On his wrist, his leather-banded watch ticked.

He didn't say a word, but you moved closer. Rounding the corner, you came to stand before him at the end of the bed. Your head tipped to accommodate his height, and his hand instantly came to cup your cheek. His palm big, his skin warm and callused, fingertips dry and moving on their own as they slipped into your hair. His thumb slid along your lips and they parted, allowing the digit to slip in and out to spread slick across your mouth. Heart pounding, you pressed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, and he tugged you closer by his hold on your face. Your head cocked, cheek rubbing against his palm with fluttering eyes.

Steve's sigh fanned across your face. His defenses crumbled, and he eagerly sought your company with the other hand against your cheek. Framing your face, he pulled you into him, chest to chest, and connected your mouths. Your eyes fluttered closed, a gasp hiccuped in your chest and caught in your throat, easing out when Steve's hands slid down to your waist.

His touch was warm and firm, but gentle. His hands roamed the shape of your curves, tracing and kneading, but never squeezing. It had been so long since he touched you like that.

Blindly, Steve whirled you toward the bed. The back of your thighs brushed the mattress, and he waved his hands wildly until the contents of your bags were strewn across the floor. With the mattress empty, he guided you back—you crawled backward on your palms until you could ease flat against the center of the bed, splayed out for him.

Steve mounted over you, bracing on his forearms, sinking down to press your pelvises together. For a moment, you just touched noses. Rubbing, grazing, breathing each other in. You scanned the expanse of his face, eager to memorize the sight of it over you as your heart thumped in your throat. Then he dipped his head, hair tickling your neck, and nuzzled his cheek against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed again, fingers finding their way through the thick mop of locks at the back of his head.

"Wanna show you," Steve murmured, sliding his mouth to the warmth of your throat. He left hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck. "Wanna show you...how much I love you."

His teeth grazed your throat, and like a magnet pull, your spine arched into a crescent up against him. You pressed into him, breasts to his chest, and his hands instantly came to press against the sides of your neck where his mouth had been.

Steve pulled back just far enough to see each other.

"Will you let me, baby?" His thumbs made gentle circles just under the hook of your jaw against your throat.

All you could do was nod, mouth hanging open like a dumb-struck puppy. But Steve didn't smirk, didn't snicker or laugh—he only bent, slow and steady, to kiss your lips. You sighed into his mouth, taking hold of his hair with both hands as he fumbled with one hand for his belt. As he struggled, you tore your hands from his soft locks and slid them down his torso, replacing his own over the cold metal buckle of his belt. His hands found the bed again on either side of your head, and he pulled back to gaze into your eyes as you slid the leather through the loop.

The zipper snicked nosily against the quiet of the room. In the room over, the television mumbled, grey static humming through the wall. The lamp on the desk behind him made Steve glow the prettiest shade of gold. You guided his jeans and boxers over his hips and across his ass in one pull, and he pulled away to finish tearing them off. Hovering on his knees over you, straddling your squished thighs, he took ahold of his t-shirt and whipped it over his head.

You instantly deflated at the sight of his naked body—lean, firm, sculpted with cut muscle. Your fingers instantly found a path to explore when he returned to his mounted position over you. He pawed at the hem of his red t-shirt over your torso, bringing it to rest over your breasts below your chin. His palm skated through the valley of your stomach and breasts, and he bit back a smile at the full-bodied shiver that made you squirm and writhe against the quilt.

Pinching his fingers around the base of his cock, Steve used the slick tip to push aside your panties and breach your pulsing cunt. You both gasped at the same time, an echoing hiccup of breath silenced by your teeth clanking together. His forehead fell into yours, hair curtained over each side of your face, and you watched his eyes crinkle and round with desperation as he sank in to the hilt.

For a while, he just rested there, stretching you out, bringing a burning sting to the apex of your thighs. But when your thighs began to shake, and your heels sought balance at the small of his spine, you whimpered into his mouth squished against yours.

"Steve," you whined.

Steve's thumbs pressed into your throat again, hands bracing either side of your neck.

"Shh," he huffed against your lips, pecking them lazily. "Not goin' anywhere. S' all yours...m' all yours."

Steve's thrusts were slow and deep, brushing the most sensitive parts of your cunt with every lazy hump. Each tilt and push of his hips had you hiccuping and gasping against his mouth, but he never went far. He was always right there, holding you, watching you fall apart—loving you.

His thumbs pressed a little harder into your throat, just enough to have your head fuzzy and your eyes blurry. It felt like you were floating, and the hum of the tv a room over, the flickering glow of the lamp on the desk, the scent of rose soap and Marlboros—it all washed away. It was only Steve. Steve above you, touching you, kissing you, loving you.

One hand left your throat to rake through your hair, a handful of fingers tugging at the strands just hard enough to make your scalp tingle and your cheeks flame. Your hands slipped from his hair to his biceps, nails piercing the firm, bulging muscle.

"St-Steve," you whined again.

"You're so good, angel, you're so good," he mumbled breathily, gazing down where your bodies were connected. "So good t' me. Fuck, you like that?"

More than anything, you liked the lazy slur of his voice when he got lost in you, enraptured by the sight of your body bared to him, the feel of your skin against his, the squeeze of your cunt around his cock. His head snapped back with another twist of his face, nose scrunched and teeth clenched. He groaned, and his thumb slipped along your pulse point to push again. You stuttered, thighs tightening around his hips, and relaxed into a spasm.

Steve's hand left your neck to slam into the mattress, scrunching the fabric of the quilt as warmth flooded between your legs. It took only a moment for his arms to start to shake, and he collapsed into the crook of your neck with a heavy sigh. Your skin sticky and slick, your bodies clung together while you rested. You played with his hair as you caught your breath, turning to press a kiss to the damp spot on his hairline just above his temple.

Tomorrow, you would call your father, and when he would ask you to come home, you'd happily decline.

♡♡

#rolly!#boxer!steve harrington #boxer!steve #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve the babysitter #steve the hair harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington series

624 notes · View notes

munsonmuses · 3 months

Text

Cold as Ice

Part Three Here

Synopsis: Eddie and yourself are settling into the domesticity of being a couple, which is strangely easy after all these years

Themes: domesticity, teeth rotting fluff, love and loss, lesbianism, Eddie being a pervert

Warnings: drinking, cursing, nudity, smutty behavior but not direct smut, Eddie being a perv

Word Count: 5.3k

You groaned lightly to yourself as you tried to drag yourself awake, feeling incredulously warm as you stared down at the very nude Eddie Munson lying on top of you. Patting his cheek lightly as you watched him grin lightly. Clearly playing asleep as he turned away to mask his amusement as you scoffed. “Edward Munson get off of me…” you muttered softly as you frowned to yourself. Earning a drawn out whine from Eddie as he nuzzled into your chest. “Why would I when your beautiful breasts are right here~” he crooned as you gagged. “Just call them tits-“ you insisted as you pushed him off and went to the restroom, closing the door on a chasing Eddie who leaned against the wood.

“My love…my light…the air that I breathe!” He cried dramatically. “I need to see you…please~” he whined as you carefully got cleaned up, brushed your teeth, and washed your face. Patting on toner as you grabbed your robe. The thick fleece decorated with embroidered puppies as you pulled your hair back behind your ears. “I’ll be right there honey…you’re as clingy as a goddamn leech.” You teased as you pulled open the sliding wood door, immediately feeling Eddie latch onto you as you hummed lightly. “Hey baby…” he crooned as he kissed you lightly, working on untying your robe as you pat his pawing hands away.

“Cmon, let me see them…” he begged as he peered down the front of your robe, finally getting a clear look at your tattoo. His eyes going wide as you cleared your throat nervously. A heart tattooed right above your right breast, in typically tattoo cursive was the word ‘succubus’ as Eddie hummed, leaning it and licking up from the point of the heart to your jaw as you squeaked in mock disgust. “No no don’t act all grossed out, you like the whole succubus thing…you like that I call you a demon, a vile energy sucking succubus…” he crooned as you laughed lightly.

“I do, I really do but I didn’t think you’d actually ever see it-“ you insisted as he laughed. Kissing your temple as he hummed. “Well I have, which means I should get one to match. What I am upset about is that I didn’t give it to you…” he insisted as you dismissed his amused upset. “Yeah yeah, you’re welcome to give me my next one.” You insisted as he smiled. Pressing his chest to yours as you grit him beginning to harden up against your thigh as you nipped at his lower lip. “You’re so fucking pretty Eddie…” you cooed, before being interrupted by the door opening as Eddie immediately ran for the bed, leaping under the covers as you fixed your robe and hummed nervously. Expecting your mom, or worse, Marilyn, but this was strangely even more humiliating. Sara, Steve, Robin, Rhiannon and Libby in the doorway as you coughed nervously. “Morning…?” You murmured.

“No way…no fucking way.” Libby whispered as she pointed at Eddie, then you, then back at Eddie as she scoffed lightly. “You spend all this time hating on Eddie just to fuck him?” She hissed between her teeth as you covered your face, whimpering in shame as Eddie hummed in pride. “No no, we didn’t fuck or whatever, we made love, like couples do-“ he crooned as Rhiannon ‘awed’, putting a hand on her heart as you scoffed. “Whatever, what the fuck are you guys doing here? How did you even get in?” You muttered as Sara raised her hand to interject.

“You didn’t tell any of us if you made it home, and your mom called me to check in on you since you hadn’t called her to check in with her…and you gave me a spare key that one time I brought Lynnie home.” She reasoned as she hummed. “Sooo, Steve and I picked up Robin, and Robin was over at Rhiannon’s house, and Rhiannon called Libby…” she finished as you raised a brow. “And what was Robin doing at your house…?” You questioned with Rhiannon who slowly linked pinkies with Robin, earning a curt nod of understanding. You wouldn’t pry, there was always a natural queerness about Rhiannon, and everyone knew it, so it was nice to know she’d found somebody.

“And that’s what led us here, to you covered in hickeys and Eddie currently hard under your sheets.” Sara finished as you scoffed lightly. Eddie covering himself with the pillow as you sighed. “Okay well…I’m gonna get dressed, and uh, you guys can go wait downstairs okay? I’ll make us breakfast.” You offered as Steve shrugged. “Only if you make home fries.” He insisted as you waved him off with muttered agreement. Watching them leave before looking at Eddie. Smacking him with a pillow.

“Making love? What the fuck is this some shitty romance novel?!” You hissed through laughter as he covered his face and snorted lightly. “Yeah but it was endearing…” he insisted as you climbed into bed, kissing him gently as you straddled his hips. “I’m gonna go get you some comfy clothes…and you’ll stay for breakfast.” You state, Eddie just humming in agreement. Watching as you walked off and closed the door behind yourself.

At the click of the knob, Eddie slipped on his boxers and hummed to himself lightly. Snooping around as he poked through your bookcase. Pulling out a photo album with ‘Camp Love’ printed on the front with a gold foil. Carefully flipping through it as he stared at pictures of your brace ridden face, freshly fourteen with long pigtails and a stark red shirt with the camps logo on it. Arms wrapped around a young Rhiannon and Elizabeth, before she’d decided to start going by Libby. The next few were of the three of you on different little adventures, then one with a young Sara and Steve, the last few with him and yourself. Young and cuddly, awkwardly holding hands, then one where the two of you hung from your dads flexed arms, dangling a bit as you both laughed. Had you guys really been that small? Had he been that happy before? Was the girl he left behind two years ago still that small? Was she still inside you?

Eddie’s trip down memory lane was broken by you clearing your throat, carefully reaching out with a sage green sweatshirt and some black basketball shorts. Specifically your dad’s sweatshirt and basketball shorts. “I um…I think you’ll fit into these? I know daddy was a little wider…though he would’ve been surprised at how big you’ve gotten. He’d say you’ve got hair like a hippie, he would’ve loved Corroded Coffin Eddie…” your voice was breaking as he carefully pulled you into his chest. Holding you tight as you sobbed into him.

“I am so sorry I wasn’t there…I should have been there…” he whispered as he made sure to stay as close as he could. Holding your sobbing form close as he kissed the crown of your head. “Honey I am so fucking sorry.” His own voice breaking as he pulled back to look at you. Seeing the sweet face of that fourteen year old girl, small and broken, left behind by him. Looking into the small mirror to the side of yourselves, he saw that same fourteen year old boy. He would know what to do.

He wrapped his arms tighter around you as he nuzzled your neck. Holding you till his arms ached from the squeeze. Hearing your sobs. Had you sobbed that hard on nights he wasn’t there? on days where nothing felt like it was going to get better? Begging him in desperation to fix the ache in your heart?

He gently lifted your chin as he wiped your sleepy and sad eyes, humming softly as he kissed between your brows. “Let’s get dressed okay? But we can take all the time we need to go down there.” He reasoned gently, earning a curt nod from you as he walked you carefully over to your closet, helping you pick out a sweatshirt and some shorts as he smiled lightly. “Now that I’m back, you can’t really get rid of me…” he informed with a soft laugh. “I don’t want to get rid of you Eddie…never did.” You murmured as he sighed and helped slide the sweatshirt over your head. “I know sweetheart…I promise I won’t leave, it would take something supernatural to take me from you at this point.” He laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Go get dressed baby…”

Eddie did as asked, slipping on his own sweatshirt and bottoms as he looked at himself in your vanity. Taking a hair tie as he pulled his hair into a low bun and hummed to himself as he took your expectant hand. Heading out and downstairs to the smell of turkey sausage quarters and waffles. Sara at the stove with Steve wrapped around her, Robin and Rhiannon in the living room setting up tv trays. Libby on the couch instructing them where to set everything up.

“I was gonna make breakfast you know?” You told Sara gently as she waved you away lightly, humming contentedly as Steve nuzzled into her neck. The two were attached at the hip which was always nice knowing both of their struggles with finding the one. “I thought it would help a bit if I made it, but Steve won’t stop bitching about how all you have is turkey meat rather than pork or beef.” She mused as Steve nodded. “It’s weird? Are you guys like…a religion that can’t eat pork that I never knew about?” He asked as you laughed lightly.

“We’re not religious, Steven . We’re just conscious of dangers. My mom’s a nurse. Apparently too much red meat will give you a heart attack or something.” You explained as Steve quirked a brow. “That sounds like a load of bull but…okay.” He murmured softly as you rolled your eyes.

While the three of you were talking, Eddie had taken it upon himself to work on coffee and call Wayne to tell him where he was. Starting the coffee pot before picking up the landline off the wall. Dialing the number carefully.

“Hey Wayne…did I wake you up I’m sorry if I did? I uh, I’m at Josie’s. Just wanted to tell you…yeah that one.” he looked over his shoulder at you. “Yeah we’re gonna be okay…” he insisted softly as he smiled to himself. “I’ll be home later.” He promised. “Oh uh…yeah I can bring Josie over, if she wants…” he offered with a soft smile as you nodded silently, working on getting plates ready. Working in tandem with Sara and Steve who were finishing off breakfast and placing it all neatly.

Eddie hung up quietly as he carefully walked over to you, slipping his arms around your waist as he hummed to himself, kissing at your neck lightly as you squealed with laughter. Batting him away as he continued. “Don’t fight it, it’s like a heat sealing missile-“ he insisted as you pulled him into a regular kiss. Holding him tight as Libby scoffed. “All of you are gross, so so gross…” she muttered with a grin as she carefully came over to pour herself a cup of coffee. Breakfast getting on its way as you all ate and caught up with each other, grateful for one another’s company. The two other couples and Libby leaving around two in the afternoon. Leaving you and Eddie to your devices.

His hands lazily worked their way up your shirt, rubbing your sides under his calloused hands as he hummed to himself lightly. Carefully tracing along your ribs as you hummed down at him. “Whaddya wanna do with our day?” He asked gently as he nuzzled your jaw lightly, earning a contented hum from you as you kissed the crown of his head. “We’ve gotta get ready to go see Wayne…you told him you’d bring me over…” you reminded gently as he sighed. “Okay yeah…uh…should we shower or? Should we just go?” He asked as you snorted lightly. “Go shower Eddie-“ you murmured as you sent him on his way upstairs, working on cleaning up the living room as you heard the shower start up. Turning on the radio by the sink as She-Bop played through the speakers, humming along as the front door opened. Your mom coming in with Marilyn in tow, the young girl racing over and wrapping her arms around you. “Hey, kid…” you greeted softly as she hummed softly. “Do you have a rash on your neck?” She murmured as she pointed to the hickeys splotched across your neck and shoulders. Grateful for Marilyn’s innocence to the depravity of the adult world.

The rash comment immediately caught your mom’s attention, setting her bag down as she carefully walked over. “I think they’re bites…” she commented softly as she caught your eye and hummed in a knowing manner, like all mothers with daughters do. Understanding the severity of the situation. “Lyn honey go put your dirty laundry and sleeping bag in the laundry room please…” your mom insisted, making sure she left before gently holding your face.

“You um…you just need to be careful okay? I know you and Eddie are adults, but you’re still finishing school honey…you need to make that a priority. I’m not saying you can’t date okay? You’re more than allowed just…be careful. Don’t um…” she chewed on her inner cheek, nerves running high. “Don’t get pregnant?” You asked softly as she nodded swiftly. “I’m still on the pill mom, I won’t risk it okay? No babies.” You promised softly as she exhaled in slight relief. Finding compromise in the situation.

“So uh…are you guys staying here? Or are you going out for the day?” She asked as you smiled lightly. “We’re going to see Wayne…and I think Eddie has band practice? It’s a Sunday. So I might go to that too.” You explained as you put the dishes on the drying rack. Hearing the shower in your room shut off as you smiled. “I’m gonna go get dressed, there’s a plate for you in the fridge.” You kissed her cheek before padding upstairs. Eddie sliding into his jeans, droplets of eager running from his hair and down his shoulders as you worked on finding something to wear. Slipping on a color block sweater and some wide inseam shorts. Working on a belt as Eddie smiled lightly. “I like those shorts…make your butt look tight.” He insisted softly, earning a snort of laughter from you as you worked on your rings and pendants. “Is Wayne wanting me to bring anything oooor?” You prompted in your reflection as Eddie scratched the stubble on his jaw. “Mmm, no…don’t think so. But you could bring those awesome fuckin’ lemon squares? He likes those.” Eddie insisted as you carefully applied mascara. “I mean…I can do that but you’ll have to help me.” You bargained as Eddie fixed his hair carefully. “Deal.”

Heading downstairs, Eddie trailed immediately after you as Marilyn peeked out of her room and chased after the two of you, grinning big as she squeezed in to walk beside Eddie. “Can I help?” She squeaked as Eddie hummed. “I dunno Lynnie, can you keep up?” he asked as she furrowed her brows, deathly serious as she nodded. “I was born for this Eddie,” she insisted as you laughed lightly, getting to work.

Eddie worked on making the graham cracker crust as Marilyn and yourself worked on making the filling, mixing the condensed milk, egg yolks and lemon juice together. Squealing loudly as Eddie swiped some off of the edge of the bowl. Marilyn following suit as you gasped playfully. “You’re like children, stop it-“ you insisted through a fit of giggles as Marilyn licked the filling off her finger. “I am a child, what’s his excuse?” She insisted as Eddie shrugged. “I’m young at heart?” He attempted to excuse as you rolled your eyes. Working on filling the crust filled pan and slotting it into the oven.

Leaning against the counter, you watched as Eddie tossed a bit of flour at Marilyn, causing a wave of giggles to leave the two as they made a mess, though the mess was worth it. Marilyn hadn’t smiled this big since everything had shut down in your lives. Watching Eddie pick the girl up and swing her around as you laughed, walking to the living room and grabbing the large camera off of the knickknack shelf. Turning to face the pair. “Smile big-“ you insisted, the two flour covered fools grinning wide as you snapped a few pictures. Looking up to see the two stalking towards you as you backed up carefully. “Hey, whoa no no I really like this sweat-“

You gasped loudly as Eddie pulled you in tight, pinning your arms as he smattered powdery kissed all over your face as Marilyn shook the excess flour off her hands into your hair. Laughing and kicking as you tried to get away from the two. “Stop it stop it! Oh my god!” You squealed as you were pulled back into the kitchen, reaching for your sister in false distress as Eddie grinned. “Oh no, you’re not going unscathed~” he laughed as he pinned you to the counter, kissing you lightly as you held his face. Leaving fingerprints in the powder dusting his face as you heard the camera shutter. Turning to see Marilyn grinning as she set it down. “It’s a good picture, don’t worry…” she assured as you hummed. “Thank you Lynnie.”

Once the giggles settled, the three of you worked on cleaning up the kitchen while the lemon squares baked. Humming along to whatever Fleetwood Mac song was playing on the radio as Eddie worked on getting the flour out of Marilyn’s red curls with a wet napkin. “I think this one might warrant a full shower Annie…” he spoke, tone deathly serious as the young girl gasped dramatically. “No, say it isn’t true-“ she cried in feigned distress as Eddie threw a hand against his forehead. “I’m afraid your case is critical, only shampoo can save you now~” he teased as he pat her shoulder. “Head on to the bathroom Lyn.” You insisted as you kissed her head and watched her disappear as you sighed. Turning to face Eddie as you wiped his face. “Thank you for playing with her…I’m sure she appreciated it.” You whispered as you kissed him lightly, continuing with the light pecking as he smiled. “Of course, Annie’s my protege…someone’s gotta raise hell after the two of us walk the stage.” He insisted gently, staring into your eyes as he smiled. “Hey honey I uh-“ he was cut off by the timer going off as you pulled away to grab the oven mitts and free the snack from the oven. Setting them down to cool. “You were saying?”

Eddie wanted to continue. Tell you how much he loved you, he wanted to give you the world then and there. But his mouth had gone dry, the moment had passed, his muscles felt stiff. He couldn’t say it now, the words dying in his throat. “I uh…I love lemon squares.” He insisted as you quirked a brow. “I figured…” you insisted gently as you smiled to yourself. “You’re the only person who might like them more than my mom,” you added as you shook the flour out of your hair. “Okay I’m gonna go get my shoes on, and we can take these with us,” you offered as Eddie nodded. Joining you in slipping on your shoes as he smiled. “You look so pretty…” he complimented as you quirked a brow in disbelief. “I’m covered in flour but…thank you hon,” you pecked his cheek before going to grab the squares. “Let’s go,”

It wasn’t too long of a ride to the trailer park, staring at the dusty blue and white trailer you’d known so well in your early teens, now a ghostly memory that was coming back into relevance. Two paths coming back together after the fork in the road. Wayne peering out past the screen door as you got out, carrying the Pyrex dish as Wayne grunted lightly. “Boy, carry the ladies dish,” he insisted as Eddie took it slowly. Wayne immediately pulling you into an embrace as you smiled lightly. “You are not that tiny lil lady with the braces and braids anymore…” he lamented as he smiled. A familiarity in the whole situation.

Wayne was family to you, your own family unit having been so small your whole life, that Wayne had just filled a portion of that. “Yeah I um, I’m twenty now. I’m not a little girl anymore…but growing up has been interesting,” you answered as you entered the trailer, grinning as you headed into the kitchen after Eddie. Searching for a knife as Wayne looked over in curiosity. “Josie made lemon squares, you remember those?” Eddie asked as Wayne grunted in agreement. “I do, I remember I nearly had to go up a size in jeans…” he laughed lightly. “Thank you Jo.” He insisted as you carefully sliced them. “Of course Wayne, anything for my number one fan.” You joked as you handed him his plate, Eddie whining as you shushed him. Getting him a plate ready as Eddie grinned. “Thank you baby…” he whispered as you nodded. “Anything for my number two fan,” you tease as Eddie feigned disbelief. “I’m your boyfriend.” He insisted as you shrugged. “Yet Wayne loves my baking more~” you teased, heading to sit on the well loved couch with the guys as you ate.

The three of you made decent small talk, catching up with Wayne as you all ran through the sweet treats. Working on cleaning up as Wayne cleared his throat. “Hon I’m uh, I’m sorry about your old man. He was a staple in town, a big loss.” Wayne started as you grew still, quiet. “Yeah uh, it was hard. Still kinda is?” You laughed nervously as Eddie awkwardly picked at the crust left on his plate. “Is your mom okay?” Wayne asked as you smiled nervously. “We uh…yeah, now we are. I was out of school for about two years to work? Until mom got her promotion. Shifting incomes was hard.” You whispered as you scratched your neck nervously. “Are you okay?” Wayne asked as Eddie gently kicked his shin. “I’m fine, but I do wanna stop talking about this please Wayne?” You insisted as Wayne nodded softly. “You still work at the arcade?” He tried to change the subject. “Yup, with Sara, we make good money. I work after school, then go home, same routine each day.” You insisted as you hummed nervously.

Eddie cleared his throat lightly as he rubbed his thighs. “We’re gonna go over to Gareth’s…see you later Wayne.” He insisted as he took your hand, heading back to the van and helping you in, albeit in a bit of a rush. Running around and hopping in himself as he exhaled slowly. “I am so sorry about Wayne-“ he started carefully as you shut him down. “It’s okay, he was being sympathetic…it’s okay Eddie.” You promised as he smiled nervously. “It’s okay honey, I promise. He’s trying to be there for me.” You defended as Eddie carefully reversed and sighed lightly. “Yeah well he shouldn’t have pried-“ he insisted as you scoffed.

“Maybe I wanted him to pry? Like I wanted you to pry?” You snapped as he frowned to himself. “That’s not fair.” He shot back as you sighed. “Eddie I appreciate you trying to defend me, but you don’t get to decide how I feel dear.” You whispered as you took his hand carefully, Eddie pulling away in muttered frustration as you frowned. “Eddie.” You tried to get his attention as he drove to Gareth’s house and you grew quiet. Swallowing your guilt and frustration. “I’m sorry.” You whispered softly as he frowned. “Fuck, don’t apologize, I’m mad at myself…you don’t deserve to be treated like shit because I’m mad.” He insisted as you frowned lightly. “Baby I’ve forgiven you. You don’t need to beat yourself up. I shouldn’t have thrown it in your face.” You insisted as you kissed him lightly at a stop sign.

Pulling into the Emerson family driveway, you stared in at Grant, Jeff and Gareth getting set up as you got out. The guys sharing glances as Eddie raced around the car to put you back in the van, then open your door and help you out as he kissed your knuckles. Earning a half hearted laugh from you as you stuck him to hip. His hand in your back pocket as you were guided to a couch in the corner. “Hey guys…”

“Hey uh…what’re you doing here?” Grant asked softly as you shrugged. “I dunno, girlfriend things? Coming to band practice and stuff…” you said softly as Jeff quirked a brow. “Don’t you guys hate each other?” He whispered as Eddie laughed. “Hate is just passionate love…” he crooned as you snorted with laughter. The band seemingly loaded with questions which the two of you gladly answered. The guys foregoing practice to snoop around in your personal lives, getting fully up to date with the relationship you both had. Gareth going inside and grabbing a six pack of beers for the five of you as he hummed.

“So each of us gets one…but the last one? We can either ignore it? Or we can play for it…” Gareth challenged as he drummed on his thighs, humming lightly. “Okay, what do we wanna play for it?” Jeff mumbled as you grinned wide. “We could play mercy…” you whispered with a grin as Grant laughed. “Mercy? What are we? Seven?” He asked as you leaned forward, nose to nose with him as you grinned. “What are you? Scared?” You crooned as he shoved you back gently with a laugh, Eddie pulling you into his side. “Let’s do it., winner has to shotgun their beer in celebratory success” Gareth insisted.

“Me versus Grant, Josie versus Jeff, then Gareth will go against the winners of each of those rounds. Deal?” Eddie asked as everyone came to an agreement, getting situated on the floor as you each got to work.

Jeff interlocked hands with you as you hummed softly, letting Gareth count you in before getting to playing. Pushing back against Jeff’s fingers as you struggled to bend one another’s hands back, panting lightly in frustration as you locked eyes. “I don’t go down easy Jeff…” you warned as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah but I’ve got strong fingers.” He argued as you kept pushing, shoving his index finger back as he hissed, calling mercy as he backed up a bit. “Fuck me man…” he murmured as you laughed lightly, fixing your hair back as Grant beat Eddie, Eddie muttering to himself in bitter loss as you laughed. Sipping from your beer as you watched Grant and Gareth start. The two pushing hard as Gareth’s fingers were bent back, hissing in pain as Grant grunted in discomfort before yelping lightly as his wrist was bent back. Gareth grinning wide as he looked towards you. “Cmon Josie.”

You furrowed your brows as you slammed back the rest of your beer, humming lightly and setting the empty can down. “Winner has to shotgun the beer yeah?” You asked as Gareth nodded, Eddie coming in to referee. “No dirty business, no cheating, so no bending back the middle of ring fingers. Calling for a re-grip ends the match. Ready. Set. Go.”

You pushed hard, Gareth was definitely stronger, he had insane grip on your hands, but you were stubborn, pushing back with fervor as Gareth grimaced lightly. The two of you maintaining intense eye contact as you scowled. “Fucking hell…gareth give in.” You pressed as he shook his head. “No fucking way, you’re not getting my beers.” He insisted as you bent back his thumb and he cried out, pulling away before realization donned. “Fuck! No that’s not fair-“ he whined as you picked up the beer carefully, taking Eddie’s keys and pulling his pocket knife over. Notching the side of the can and popping the tab as you chugged down the beer. Humming excitedly to yourself as you pulled away with a laugh. “Get fucked Emerson,” you hissed as he flipped you off. Eddie grinning big as he pulled you close.

“That was so fucking hot-“ he muttered as he kissed you deeply, pushing you to the floor as the rest of the band gagged, shouting ‘get a room’ and other shared sentiments as you rolled your eyes, pushing Eddie off of yourself and sighing. “If this is what band practice is always like, can I keep coming over?” You asked as the three looked between each other. Holding their thumbs sideways, before one by one flipping them upwards. “You may come and go as you please. The council has decided.” Gareth declared as you hummed contentedly. “Thank you, oh wise and noble council, I, Succubus Josie of the depths of hell thank you for your generosity,” you played along as Eddie growled against your neck. “Keep up the nerdy talk that’s so fucking hot-“ he insisted as you laughed. “We’re gonna leave…thank you guys for letting us come over,” you hummed as you helped Eddie off of you and back to the van as he hummed.

“Do you wanna stay the night with me? At the trailer?” He asked softly as you hummed in thought. “Yes, but we have to go pick up my car from Rhia’s.” You bargained as he slowly nodded in agreement.

After a mildly awkward exchange with Rhiannon for your keys while she was occupied with ‘something’ that she wouldn’t disclose, you made the drive to the trailer park. Parking beside Eddie as you padded inside. Wayne having left for his night shift already as you padded into Eddie’s room. The smell of incense and weed having soaked into the carpets and walls. Eddie searching through his closet before tossing you a well worn Def Leppard shirt and some boxers as you smiled.

Eddie turned around, frozen at the sight of you stripping. He’d expected you to go to the bathroom, or even turn your back to him, but this was okay too. Watching with a grin as you slipped on his shirt and boxers. Flopping into his bed as he crawled on top of you. Pressing light kisses to your jaw. “Hey princess…” he cooed as you ran your nails over his scalp. “Hi honey…do you wanna smoke a little, eat the last of the lemon squares, play a lil guitar?” You asked softly as he hummed in agreement. “Sounds like a great night.” He insisted softly as he got off to prepare a bowl in his very well loved bong, letting you go and gather lemon squares.

Padding down the hall, you smiled at a few pictures on the wall of a young Eddie with Wayne, and two with you at camp love and your freshman year homecoming dance. Terribly awkward looking young teens with eyes wide, full of anxiety. Grinning at the sight as you carefully worked on plating the squares, grabbing two beers from the fridge as you went back to the bedroom.

Eddie was getting an early start, taking a decently long rip from the bong, and pulling back as he exhaled upward. Looking utterly ethereal as you slid to sit behind him on the bed. Slotting him between your legs as you followed suit. Taking a smaller but still fulfilling rip as you kissed the crown of his head. Opening up the beers and smiling to yourself as you both got comfortable for the night. Eddie picking up his guitar carefully as he strummed out the beginning chords for ‘Hungry Like The Wolf’, bobbing his head as you chose to sing along a bit.

‘Darken the city, night is a wire. Steam in the subway, earth is afire’ you started as he continued carefully, letting you set the pace as he grinned lightly. The two of you naturally in sync with each other as you worked through the music. Eddie finishing you out before looking up at you.

“Hey Josie?…I love you…” he whispered as you smiled lightly.

“I love you too Eddie.”

Tags: @munson-blurbs @kimmberleeex @tlclick73

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #addie writes #addie addresses #eddie munson fanfic

78 notes · View notes