#Dungeon Dive Bar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwasoup · 3 months

Text

Tale As Old As Time

Playlist !!

songs to listen along with: the beast, etc..

art credit goes to Marbipa

OMG guys, I literally hat to let this one sit and marinate for a while even though I typed it out like so long ago. AND I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT TO ADD THE SONGS FOR LAST CHAPTER, DW I DID THOUGH. Ugh and I literally also just found out that i had a textbook for a class, i didn't deep dive into the syllabus. AHHHHH regardless I hope you guys enjoyyy !! our favorite characters have finally met!!

like always tell me if you’d like to be tagged !!

prev | ch.4

warnings: wrongful incarceration, bargaining, yelling, really bad british slang, mexican spanish (im sorry y’all im venezuelan ☠️)

word count: 3.3k

Chapter 3: The Beast

After going through the thick woods, trusting Felipe to take her to where she needs to go…

Y/N makes it deep and far in the woods and stops Felipe from galloping when she spots her father’s wagon. She looks at all of the scattered food, items, and even his invention. In worry, she clutches on Felipe’s reins tightly and directs him to keep on going. After riding Felipe some time, the air gets thicker and fog covers the entirety of the forest. She then notices Felipe starting to trot and make his way down a gravel path. She looks around the dead trees and notices the large gates and the grand castle in front of her. “What is this place…” she says nervously. Felipe then starts nickering and anxiously moving as he didn’t want to go inside the gates. Y/N had to get off to comfort the horse and calm him down. After a few moments, she turns around and peeks inside the gate to see her father’s hat. She opens them and she reaches for the hat and holds it tightly in her hands, her worry now increasing for him. “Come on Felipe, we have to go inside”

She mounts the horse once more and goes inside the gate, going through the garden until she makes it to the steps of the castle. Y/N then gets off Felipe and carefully goes up the stairs, grabbing a large stick from the stairs as a weapon incase if she needs to defend herself. She then makes it to the top and carefully opens the door. Peering inside she walks in hesitantly, as she looks around.

“Look Jess…it's a pretty girl”

“I can see that Miles, I lost my hands.. Not my eyes”

Miles then peeks at Jess and whispers “but what if she’s the one who’ll break the spell ?” Y/N turns around confused at the sound of whispering “Who said that ?” She looks around to see nobody except for a candelabra and a clock. She quietly approaches the two of them looking at the inanimate figures confused at what she heard. Her thoughts however were shunned as she could hear her father’s cough from a distance. In her desperateness to find him, she takes the candelabra and goes to look for him. Jess looks at Miles being taken and she simply sighs.

Y/N follows the sound of coughing to a set of stairs, as she gets closer she then peers into a hall that goes up a tower. She anxiously walks up the stairs as she yells out “PAPA ??” She walks up the stairs faster as the coughing gets louder “ERES TU PAPA ??” Y/N then gets to the top of the tower and gasps seeing her beloved father inside a dungeon. She throws the stick to one side and places the candelabra on a nearby shelf and places it there. Y/N then gets on her knees as she looks at her father in relief after searching for him “Oh papa, que paso?? what happened to you, your hands are ice cold..” she says holding him tightly through the metal bars. Mauricio looks at her in awe and simply says “how did you even find me ?”

“That doesn’t matter, we need to get you home !”

“Y/N please…listen to me it’s not safe here, you must leave at once! This castle is alive !” he says in a whisper, tightly holding onto Y/N’s hands. Y/N looked at him confused until she heard a deep growl echoing in the distance. She grabs her stick once more from the floor and looks around the dungeon. She firmly grips onto the piece of thick wood, as she gains the courage to look around and protect herself and her father. “Who’s there, WHO ARE YOU ?”

“Who Are YOU?”

The voice of a man echoes throughout the dungeon, his silhouette appearing in the distance. “I’ve come for my father..” Y/N says with determination in her voice. The sound of someone coming down the stairs is heard in the dark dungeon. “Your Father….is a thief”. Enraged, Y/N yelled out “LIAR!” The silhouette has now fully come down the stairs and standing before her, his silhouette still only seen “He stole a rose..” Y/N raises an eyebrow appalled at his words “I asked for the rose, punish me not him !” Mauricio looks at his daughter and shakes his head “No, Y/N don’t… he means forever, apparently that’s what happens around here cuando uno elige una bendita rosa”

Y/N even more appalled turned to her father and back to the silhouette “A life sentence for a flower ?” A loud roar is heard as it approaches her even more, she steps back a little but not entirely to stand her ground despite the small shivers down her leg. “I received eternal damnation for one” the figure said, the growl in his voice becoming deeper. “Then take me instead” The figure growls and looks away and angrily says “YOU-” his expression then softly changes as he was shocked at how willing she was. “Tú....Tú tomarías su lugar?”

Y/N bites her lip and nods a whimper coming from her lips releases in her voice “If I did…would you let him go ?” The silhouette’s voice became a bit softer but still gruff in its dominant position “Yes, but you must promise to stay here forever” he says. Y/N looks down and blinks thinking of what to do next, she notices there’s a light right between them, separating the two from fully seeing each other. “Come into the light” she demands. The silhouette becomes smaller as she starts to see two large paws, she then looks up to see not a man but a beast with the horns of a goat, a thick mane that covered his entire body and crimson red eyes that peered into hers. Y/N covers her mouth in shock and turns to her father dropping the stick yet again to hold his hands. “No, Y/N to te puedo permitir que hagas esto”

Y/N kisses her father’s hands and approaches the Beast, her voice faltering to a whisper “you have my word..” The Beast then growls and opens the door dragging Mauricio out and pushing Y/N in, not even letting the two share a proper departure. He then drags Mauricio all the way out of the castle and throws him inside a carriage “Take him to the village” Mauricio cries out to him “SPARE MY DAUGHTER PLEASE!” The Beast ignores him and growls as he closes the carriage door “She’s no longer your concern…” Mauricio cries out to him to let him out, but The Beast was already walking back inside his castle.

After a moment, The Beast is seen walking back inside the castle on all fours with an annoyed expression on his face. Miles had already hopped down halfway to meet him. “So, Uh Sir ?”

“WHAT” the Beast growled out. Miles cowered a bit but then adjusted himself “soo uh since the girl is going to stay with us for quite some time, erm umm” he rubs his other two candles together “I was thinking that y’know you wanted too uhh, bring her to a more comfortable room” he says with a sheepish smile. The Beast growls at him and keeps walking up the stairs ignoring what he said. “Or not” Miles says.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Up in the tower after a week ….

Y/N wept as she whispered comforting words to herself. She thought about all of those times with her father, how he told her that home is where the heart is. But she wasn’t home, she was lonely and locked away. Her face drained as she thought of making the tiny dungeon her home, tears kept on spilling out as she thought about her poor father, all alone with nobody to lean onto in her terrible village.

She then sees a shadow loom over her and notices its The Beast. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye..I’ll never see him again..” her tears taint her cheeks that have been stained from the grime of the dungeon. “I-I’l never..see h-him again..” she says in between sobs. The Beast then looks at Y/N and a bit of guilt plagues his mind. He scratches his head and then considers what Miles told him earlier.. “I’ll show you to your room..” he says softly as he walks out the dungeon.

“My room? But I thought -”

“You, YOU wanna stay in the tower ?”

“No..” she says softly.

“Then follow me..” The Beast says.

The Beast then guides her out of the tower and back into the castle, taking Miles with him along the way so that he could light up the hallways. As Y/N is escorted, she looks around the castle and its statues and notices how dark and lonely the place seemed to be. Her eyes stare fearfully at a statue of a hideous gargoyle and speeds up to catch up with The Beast.

The Beast heard her gasp and looked behind to see a single tear falling down her cheek, he looked back in his direction as he felt a bit more guiltier. “You should say something to her y’know” Miles says softly. The Beast nodded and turned to her “I..uhh…I hope you like it here” he looked back at Miles to see if it was ok. Miles then looks at him encouraging him to say a bit more. “The castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you would like…except the west wing.” Y/N’s curiosity perks up and she asks “what’s in the west wing ?” He growled out “IT'S FORBIDDEN”. His voice echoed out into the empty halls of the castle. He then takes her to a suite and opens the door for her. “If you need anything…my servants will attend you.” Y/N walks in and looks around the room. She then turns back to him and softly asks “but what’s your name ?” The Beast looks down as he didn’t want to remember his name, as he isn’t human or anything similar to his name. “It’s Miguel..”

Y/N nods as she looks back to the room and looks around. Miles then in a corner of Miguel’s viewpoint whispers “dinner, go invite her to dinner” Miguel nods and he tries to find the best way to speak to her “YOU WILL JOIN ME FOR DINNER…Th-THAT”S NOT A REQUEST” he says gruffly as he slammed the door. Y/N in shock of his words looked back at the closed door and back to the room. Spotting the bed she runs towards it and throws herself onto the pillows and cries her heart out. She hasn’t even realized that it has already started snowing outside signifying the start of winter.

About a couple of hours later, There was a soft knocking on the door. Y/N who was too busy crying hears it and softly says “who is it ?” She then hears a man’s voice “Its, Peter” Y/N approaches the door and quietly opens it and peers outside. She didn’t see anyone until she saw a serving cart with a tea pot and a small cup. “Oh wow you’re very pretty ma’am” he says politely with a smile. “I thought you would like a small cup of tea” Y/N backs up surprised at the sight and bumps into the wardrobe. Hearing a voice from the wardrobe she looks at it in shock “ooh, watch it ‘ere mate” Y/N backs up to her bed and sits down surprised. “B-but, this is impossible!”

“I know mate, but ‘ere we are. Oh and the name’s Hobie” Y/N looks around in awe and surprise and just sits, processing the whole situation. The little teacup then spoke, “I told you she was pretty daddy!” Peter chuckles and pours some tea into his daughter “alrighty May, go and hand it to her, gently without spilling” Mayday happily hops to Y/N and waits for her to pick her up. “Why… Thank You” Y/N takes it softly. She then takes a sip of the tea and hums softly, enjoying the taste. “Wanna see me do a trick ??” Mayday then giggles as she breathes in and blows bubbles into the tea. She gets scolded quickly by her father though.

Peter chuckles and looks at Y/N. “Y’know, that took guts kid,” Hobie nods and agrees with him “the whole castle’s buzzin ‘bout it.” Y/N sighs in disappointment “but, I’ve lost my father, my dreams, I’ve lost almost everything..” Peter smiles and gives her a warm smile “aww, don’t worry kid, things always turn out better in the end.” Peter then realizes that he’s still supposed to be in the kitchen “oh crap, i forgot i’m supposed to be helping in the kitchen.. Anyways it was lovely meeting you” he says as the serving table wheels away from her room and leaves.

“Well now, let's get somefink good for youse to get dressed for the old geezer ‘ere.” Hobie then opens his drawers and sees some moths fly out “m’bad dovey” He then pulls out a nice dress for her and says “ ‘ere ya go, somefink pretty for you dovey” Y/N looks at the dress and smiles softly “oh, that’s very kind of you Hobie, but i’m not going to dinner” Hobie then shrugs and puts the dress back inside his drawers “aight then, youse definitely gonna make that geezer more laughable” he says. A small pattern is heard walking inside the room, Jess walked in and took a breath. “Come on honey, dinner’s waiting” she says trying to lighten up the mood.

Down at the dining table however, Miguel is pacing back and forth anxiously waiting for Y/N’s arrival. He then growls annoyed “What’s taking her so long ....I told her to come down…” He then looks at Miles and a smaller candle who’s named Lyla. “aww come on Miguel, you do realize that she’s literally lost her freedom and her dad like last week” Lyla says, stating the obvious. Miles then nods and says “soo uhh, Sir, Haven’t you thought that this girl.. Might be the one who could break the spell ?” MIguel looks up to the two candles “OF COURSE I HAVE..I’M NOT STUPID” Miles then smiles and says “Then you fall in love with her, sheee falls in love with you, and POOF! We’re human! We should be back to normal by midnight !” he says with a confident smile. Peter on the table however, digresses on the situation. “Miles buddy, it's not that easy y’know… these things take time” Miles then frowns and softly says “but, Peter ...the rose is already starting to wilt..”

Miguel then looks down and sits on all fours and grumbles “Oh, it’s no use..” he runs a paw through his large mane “it's just that she’s just so beautiful, and i’m well.. WELL LOOK AT ME” he says with a snarl. Peter then sighs and looks at Miguel “aww come on Miguel, you have to help her see through all of that” Miguel then growls lowly “I don’t know how” he says as his ears flatten to the sides. Lyla then grins and pitches in “then how about a quick lesson on how to be a gentleman 101: Sit up and try to be kind.” Peter smiles and also shares a few thoughts “oh then don’t forget to give her a sweet smile, come one show me one Migs” Miguel then proceeds to give the most toothiest and quite horrible smile, even Lyla had to step back a little out of surprise. “Now don’t scare her, charm her” Peter says. Miles then blurted out “Oh, OH and impress her with your intelligence!” Miguel looks at all four of them trying to absorb the information, his mind whirling at almost everything that he has to do, that just seemed utterly impossible. The quartet continued to bombard him with a whole bunch of manners until they all said at the same time “and the most important of all, CONTROL YOUR TEMPER!!!” Miguel wipes his face from the small bead of sweat that was forming.

Then, the sound of a door is heard opening, Miguel looks up in anticipation but is met with only Jess coming inside. “SO, evening everyone..” she says nervously. Miguel then raises an eyebrow “Well ? where is she ?” Jess takes a deep breath in, just knowing how Miguel is definitely going to react “soo, she’s…yea she’s not coming”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAT ??!!!!”

Outraged, Miguel leaves the dining room and runs as quickly as his legs and hind legs could take him, all the way upstairs and into the east wing. Peter yells out “Nononono, WAIT MIGUEL !”

Miguel manages to outrun them and make it to Y/N’S door and basically smacks it as hard as he could “ I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO COME DOWN FOR DINNER” y/n behind the door responds to him “I’m not coming” she says with a little huff in her voice. Miles, Lyla, Peter, and Jess just facepalm and shake their heads in disappointment. A sigh was even heard from behind Miguel from the huge letdown. “YOU BETTER COME OUT, OR I’M- YO VOY…VOY A ROMPER LA BENDITA PUERTA !”

Miles whistled and just said “so, just a quick suggestion , but uh….that really isn’t the best way to impress a girl..” Jess nods and sighs “Miguel just for once, can you actually just be polite to her?” Miguel gestured to the door “But, she is being so DIFFICULT” Peter then comes beside him and softly says “gently Miguel, you’re spooking her..” Miguel groans and lowers his tone at the door “Will you come down for dinner ?” he closes his eyes hoping that she would say yes to this tone in his voice. “No!” Y/N says.

Miguel’s eyes widened and his ears shot up in surprise and he gave a look pointing to the door as he tried to prove his point to the servants. Miles then says “suavemente y gentilmente…”

Miguel then takes a deep breath and tries again, “It would give me a great pleasure, if you would come out and join me for dinner.” He looks up to the door slightly hoping that she would come out this time…although his temper is starting to boil.

Jess coughs “COUGH- we say please- COUGH”

Miguel rolls his eyes and softly says please

Y/N simply says “NO, THANK YOU !” Everyone watching the interaction watches in shock as they know he’s going to blow.

Miguel then belts out “YOU CAN’T STAY IN THERE FOREVER”.

Y/N on the other side of the door yells out “QUE SI!”

Miguel snarls and roars out “FINE THEN GO STARVE FOR ALL I CARE PINCHE DESGRACIADA”

He looks down to his servants “IF she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all” Miguel then growls out and runs off away to his room into the west wing. He opens the door annoyed and just grumbles to himself “I ask nicely but she refuses, like que quiere?? que yo hago? BEG ??” In a flurry of rage, he goes to a table where the enchanted rose is encased in a glass dome. Beside it is his magic mirror that was gifted by the enchantress. Miguel then grabs his magic mirror and looks into it “ensename la niña”

The mirror then glows a greenish blue color and shows him y/n sitting in bed being comforted by Hobie. “Aww come on Dovie, the old bloke ain't so bad..” Y/N however was sitting in bed dejected and not too convinced. “I don’t want to though...I don’t even want to do anything with him!” Miguel, shocked, puts down the mirror as he feels that same familiar feeling of hopelessness takes over his mind “who am I fooling…she’ll never see me as anything other than .... than a monster” he says as his voice shakes. He looks at the rose and sees a petal that slowly fell down and wither making the castle shake and crumble a bit.

“It’s hopeless…”

taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n, @badbishsblog, @faimmm, @opalwitchart,

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #spiderman miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel 2099

398 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 6 months

Text

Sanji And Reader Being Smitten With Each Other Would Include...

Request: Headcanons of sanji with a crush or s/o who is absolutely smitten? Like always glancing or looking at him. Probably got punched across a room in battle after admiring sanji. Literally always looks at him with heart eyes.

My love this is so sweet but honestly I feel like Sanji is exactly the same so I hope you don't mind Sanji being just as smitten with reader :)

Warning: slightly NSFW, mentions of smoking and mentions of blood/ injury!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @suuho.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

I mean look at Mr. Heart Eyes right here so let's just say that you're smitten? You're with the perfect man then because oh my goooossshh have you driven ZORO crazy with how infatuated the two of you are with each other. This poor swordsman has to spend 90% of his time barrel rolling you out of the way and diving in front of Sanji because you dopey dumbasses (affectionate in my case and derogatory in Zoro's) will just not. stop. gaping. at. each. other.

It all started when you agreed to escape the Germa Kingdom with your young princely friend; for many a year, since that fateful day he had literally walked face first into you while you were pretend playing pirates with some of your school chums in the marketplace, Sanji had been inseparable from you. Whether it was him sneaking out to find some solace in your welcoming home, or you trudging over the imposing walls of the palace so you could sneak down into the dungeons and hold a weeping Sanji's hand through the bar grates, you had been the one thing in his life since his mother's passing that had kept him sane.

And now here you were: worried eyes dampened by the torrential rain, but still peering over his face on that desolate rock the three of you ended up shipwrecked on. The whole eighty five days the two of you were stuck on that lonely side, with nothing but the unending stretch of unsultry gloam to keep you company, Sanji believed you were an angel sent to keep him safe. It was the way you shoved the crummy tins you had managed to shovel into your pockets while the ship was going down into Sanji's arms, shaking your head and pressing them further into his stomach as he began to protest. It was the lack of care you had for yourself, so intent you were with making sure he was doing as well as he possibly could: scooping murky water out of the crevices with your hands, just so you could run back and let it trickle down your fingertips and against his chapping lips. How some nights you hadn't slept a wink, too busy chasing away the growing whirlwind of seagulls that circled over your heads, diving down to try and peck at Sanji's burning legs. Making sure that he was tucked tightly under the overhanging edge of a crag, relinquishing the only bit of cover on this small island so Sanji could at least be a little sheltered from the constant downpour. Not only that, but you had even tried to comfort him: offering him a tired smile as you let your fingers shakily run through his hair and tuck away the stubborn curls behind his right ear.

He had held you against him then, as tightly as he could. Wracking with shivers, he couldn't quite figure out if it was due to the freezing cold wind that blew in from the North and snapped at his fingers, or the growing guilt that left him sniffling against your shoulder. It was so hard to focus on anything, with the sleet biting at his face, the imposing waves eating away at the stones beneath your feet. So he did the only thing his dispirited mind could still home in on: the one thing he would regret never doing, if he really were to wane away on this forsaken rock. He let his eyes flutter close, and he used the crash of lightening to mask his thundering heart as he tilted his head up and bashfully pecked your cheek.

For a moment, you thought it was just another hot splash of rain, until you caught sight of Sanji pulling away quickly and ducking his head in embarrassment.

'I-I don't know if we'll ever- well, I'm giving that kiss to you as a loan. I fully expect to get it back.' He managed to rouse some kind of meagre conviction in his hollow voice as he turned to watch your reaction; when he realised you weren't horrified, but instead were wide-eyed with shock as your pointer finger glazed over the wet mark left on your skin, he found himself hopeful for the first time in his life.

God, the two of you were both so gone. It was haunting, in its own beautiful way, as you gripped onto his hand and squeezed.

Far too many times has Zeff nearly blown the kitchen down with the amount of boiling smoke pouring out of his ears due to you two. It wasn't your fault that you had been assigned to the kitchen for your shift: Zeff should have known better, considering the exact same thing had happened yesterday... and the day before... and the year before that and so on, until your hand resembled more bandage than actual skin. You couldn't help it. It was just far too enticing- something so enchanting drawing your attention away from julienning your carrots to instead focus on the way Sanji's taut muscles rippled underneath his shirt as he sautéed. It was as if he had spellbound your eyes so they followed his form around, gladly taking in and making note of the idiosyncrasies you recognised from childhood: the way he still bites his bottom lip when he's really concentrating on stirring, the revulsion on his face as he absentmindedly unscrews a spice jar and takes a sniff, finding it to be oregano.

When you gash across your ring finger and start pooling blood onto the chopping board, though, is when the spell finally breaks and the shouting starts. 'Forth time this week!', he wags his finger at you. 'Forth time this week I've had to bloody throw out good equipment!'

'Was that seriously a pun?', Sanji asks, following on your heel like a swarming shadow as you hobble over to the sink. Zeff bites his tongue as Sanji shakes his head at him: this was an argument they had had far too many times. He had almost, almost resigned himself to the fact that Sanji would, and has, dropped the plates he was carrying to the floor with a resounding crash to run over and care for you. Thankfully, this was the perfect opportunity for Sanji to wrap gauze around your finger, before using an 'old fisherman's tale for healing grievous wounds' by peppering kisses against your knuckle to make you laugh.

Once, you were caught admiring him across your shared work station; the dishes stacking up to be washed were long forgotten as you spent ten minutes absentmindedly running your soapy sponge over the same plate, too busy letting your eyelashes flutter down to watch Sanji's skilful hands work. If you had let your gaze settle for just one more second, you would have seen Sanji raise his eyes to observe your face, lingering far too long on the rising curve of your Cupid's Bow. He bit his bottom lip, trying to stop the peach from flushing along his ears as he imagined how it would feel to swipe his tongue against your lips. When your eyes finally lock, the two of you end up so flustered about being caught that you both immediately go running off in different directions for your fifteen minute breaks.

It's not until the late evening, when everything is finally stowed away and only the late party-goers of the ship are still milling about by the bar that Sanji reappears. His head pops around the door like a surprised meerkat, rapping his knuckles against the office door and smiling as you kicked out the velvet stool next to you, beckoning him in. You drop the pen you were fiddling with when he magics the dish he had been working on earlier from behind his back, the heavenly aroma of your favourite childhood dessert overwhelming your senses as he settles next to you.

'I remember that this was your favourite, and-. Well, a sweet treat for a sweet treat, don't you think darling?'

You hum as you take the first bite, dragging the spoon along your bottom lip and throwing your head back in delight. Little did you notice the effect the warm, low vibration and sight of your plush lip dragging spit against the metal had on Sanji. He squirmed in his chair, swallowing thickly as he did his best to straighten his spine and look presentable: not like someone who was finding it harder and harder to hide the tingling feeling burning in his groin at the sight of you. God, just one noise and he was becoming undone.

He nearly cries out when you lean forward, so close he could nuzzle the tip of his nose against yours. God, does he want to. Instead he becomes slack jawed, eyes glazing over with pure want as you use your thumb and pointer finger to grip onto his chin. You tug down, opening his mouth and replacing the space with a fresh spoonful of his sweet dessert. He forgets how to breathe as he watches you glide the spoon out past his locked lips. It's only when you swipe away a little bit of cream left behind on his bottom lip line with your tongue, that he finally jolts. You just giggle, bringing the spoon back to your own mouth and sucking off the remnants of chocolate as Sanji does his best to stop his breath shuddering with soft squeaks.

His heart is about to spill out onto the floor: the trajectory of his life wrapped so firmly around the sweet twilight embrace of your tide that he would find it a pleasure to drown. You were his best friend. The love of his life. And he understands in that moment, with a realisation he could never unlearn, that he would go through every moment that led, every hardship, every bit of pain to get here again. He would do it all, if it meant he ended here with you.

But he only sighs and smiles fondly as you reach up to tuck that damn stubborn curl of hair back behind his ear again.

As soon as he made it back to his room, he slammed the door and fell back against it. With a hand thrown over his face, he groaned inwardly at how oblivious he had been. How much time he had wasted being afraid. But it was okay. He understood now. It had always been you. This. He was made more of you than he was of himself.

The next night, just after your shift, you find him leaning casually against the back door of the Baratie: his legs crossed out in front of him, watching the waves lap up serenely against the docks. His back rests against the shimmer of the bottle-green fish scales, making him seem almost other-worldly as the sun dips over his body. It fades from a warm yellow against his fringe, settling onto a melted honey running over his twirling cigarette, bowing with a crushed violet against his tapping heel.

You two have spent the last thirteen years endlessly circling each other's orbits without the eventual collide, that it didn't take long for you to find him. Tucking yourself against his shoulder, Sanji offers you a smile full of solace: an unspoken acknowledgement that he had been waiting out here for your arrival.

That despite all the hours and hours he had droned on about finding the All Blue, he wanted to be here with you - hell, he wanted to be anywhere with you. Even though he couldn’t find the right words to say it, still so unused to the daunting vehemence of requited love, it showed in the lift of his rose-tinted cheeks. In the flutters of the lines on his forehead. Sanji knew one thing in his life was certain, no matter how his future panned out: he loved you with every fibre of his being.

He grabs at your fingers, gently guiding them up to his lips. Pursing them, he places your fingertips around the mouthpiece and stares over the butt as he takes a final inhale, firm perch stopping you from getting away. As the stream of smoke floods out from the corner of his mouth, he allows you to pluck the cigarette away and toss it into the ocean.

'Y/n, I-', he starts breathlessly, turning his torso so he's giving you his undivided attention. He looks terrified - even more so when you quickly interrupt him by talking over his quivering confession.

'I have something to give back to you.' Your tone is so serious, Sanji's head bucks back in confusion.

'...Well, love. If you stole my apron again, don't sweat it.' He shoves his hands into his pockets, finding his courage draining away as you stare indiscernibly straight at him. 'Zeff has enough in the spare cupboard that we could dress up every Marine in a new uniform-'

'No, I mean- well', you shake your head and look up at the sky. 'I've been meaning to give it back for a long time now, but I guess delivery is pretty slow out in the middle of bloody nowhere', you laugh breathlessly, appreciating the way Sanji's worried eyebrow creases settle at the joke. You swear, golden treasures buried at the bottom of the ocean couldn't gleam as ferociously as Sanji's eyes do as he finally catches onto your meaning, his mouth dropping open.

His breath hitches in his throat, and his chin drops down to his neck in shock as you lean to your right and finally press your pliant lips against his own. Your fingers are quick to spread over his cheek, twirling through his loose curl once again as he falls against you; he almost crushes you with his full weight, but is quick to curve his spine and bow over you, little whimpers following his open mouth.

For a moment, as a thin trail of spit joins your brushing lips, Sanji has no idea how to react. Well, that is until he registers shock ripples delightfully lashing up his spine as you shove him back against the wall, his mouth falling open again in allowance for your tongue to lash in and fill the empty space: to suffocate his whines.

The look on the rest of the cooks' faces as the two of you come stumbling back in is priceless. The two of you really thought you had gotten away with it: if it weren't for the wall being shaken hard enough to rouse a Kraken from its slumber, and the slurred string of French curses and praises stuttering out of Sanji's lips and through the open door, you almost might have.

It's so worth it. Sanji just coughs into his clenched fist, fixing his lopsided tie and doing his best to use the flat edge of his thumb to try and wipe away some of the ruddiness from his swelling bottom lip. But when he slides his fingers in-between yours, a shy smile masked by a playful wink thrown back at you, do you know the two of you won't be able to keep your eyes (or your hands) off each other for the rest of the dining service.

When two of your 'charming' customers have a disagreement over their seating arrangements, you're too busy admiring how Sanji's thighs strain against his pressed trousers to see the trouble coming your way. It's only when one of them comes hurtling towards you and knocks you and your drinks tray ass over kettle that you become enraged. Before Sanji can even reach you to apologise, you've launched the customer off of you with a swift kick, managing to jab Sanji in the abdomen in the process. Doubling over, he falls on his face on top of you. I've got to be honest, neither of you are exactly complaining about your sudden arrangement. Once you've finished giggling and checking each other over, you realise that an inch lower, and short pant of Sanji's heaving breath against your breast and your lips would be brushing together.

The two of you would have turned into a tangled mess of heavy making out right there and then if Zeff hadn't come swinging out of the kitchen to see what all the ruckus was about.

Istg this poor man does his best to give the two of you jobs at opposite ends of the Baratie, only to nearly tug his braided beard out when a customer complains that their service is slow because, *surprise surprise*, the two of you are slacking off together. Either you're making heart eyes at him during as you wait in the main dining area, using any opportunity to grip onto the meat of his waist and slide past him with a poor excuse about 'needing to get clean menus' and making him shiver with a fresh rush of goose bumps, or he's finding you. Even when you were confined to working behind the bar, Sanji still manages to convince the other cooks that he so desperately needs the new delivery of brandy for his new profiterole recipe. Of course, he only does it so when he's on his knees lifting out the boxes, he can leave you a gasping, flustering mess. With clenched hands sending curls of shredded wood down on top of his hair, Sanji just presses his knees forward and pays no notice. He's too busy gliding his hands underneath your shirt, splaying them across your your back as he shoves his nose into your stomach. Although he's careful to stay hidden from the customers, he adores the sound of your clenched whines too much to stop himself. He rolls up the hem, ravishing you with a wet trail of kisses over the band of your trousers; his tongue runs welts over your skin as his teeth suck underneath your bellybutton, his left hand snaking down to rest on your leg so he can grip his thumb against the inner seam of your thigh.

It's only when the pad of his pointer finger presses a little too close to your clothed groin and you spill a drink over a customer that you both stop.

Once the two of you join Luffy's crew, you and Zoro seem to be the perfect team to drive Zoro up the wall. He likes you just fine, but you and waiter together being all lovey dovey makes him want to jump head first overboard.

What makes it even better is the fact that during the attack on Coco Village, you were too busy being proud of Sanji on his spectacular form and fighting technique that you and Zeff had spent years teaching him, that you don't notice one of the Fish-Men grabbing your collar. Before you can even gasp, you've been punched straight across the water and have knocked Zoro and three of the guys he was fighting down like a speeding bowling ball.

From then on, Zoro sleeps in the Crow's Perch and nowhere else. If he's not being knocked down, he's being left wincing as he trains with bruises gained from your elbow jabbed into his back. It's not your fault if you sneak in to cuddle in Sanji's hammock every night, and Zoro's face just happens to be inches away from yours. Sanji still has nightmares of your shipwrecked days from time to time, and just the pressure of your hand against his arm is enough to rouse him from whatever oblivion he was beginning to sink into. A warmth immediately spills through him as the two of you spend most of the night talking, reminiscing, sharing secret smiles between lingering kisses that leave the two of you giddy.

You're always up before him, letting him sleep in for as long as you can with a final, lingering kiss to his tense forehead. You wait for him in the kitchen, a warm cup of tea cupped between your hands, and a second one waiting for him on the counter as he sleepily wanders in to start breakfast preparations. It's become a comforting routine: you placing your head on your hand and talking idly as you admire him, keeping him company.

He knows, though. He knows what you're really waiting for. He happily obliges once the eggs have begun to sizzle, coming to rest on the bench in front of you. He grabs onto your back, pulling you onto his lap until you were straddling his waist. With languid blinks, he leaves soft kisses against the edge of your mouth as you grind against him, delighting in the hoarse groan that bobs his Adam's Apple. You tug the hair at the nape of his neck before scraping your nails over the skin apologetically, but what other way were you going to get him to open his mouth for you? Besides, the jumbled rush of French words that leave his mouth in a pealing string as you slide your tongue over his pulse point is the most heavenly sound in the world.

You're only disturbed by the sound of Luffy's yawn. For a moment, he just scratches the back of his neck and looks between the two of you curiously.

'Y/n, how come only Sanji gets a good morning hug! Can I have one too!'

'No!'

#one piece #one piece imagine #sanji #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #sanji headcanons #opla #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanki headcanons #op #op imagine #zoro #monkey d luffy #nami #usopp

578 notes · View notes

blushweddinggowns · 5 months

Text

Steddie Drunk Dialing Fluff

Steve Harrington-Munson was probably one of the happiest men to be alive in the modern era. He had the perfect life, against all odds. Because apparently having your late teens and early twenties ruined by demons equated to a fantastic adulthood.

He had it all. A loving family, the best friend/surrogate sister he could ever ask for, and he was married to the love of his life. And okay, yes. That had included some extremely embarrassing revelations and internal meltdowns and... a pretty brutal disownment. But he had figured it all out in the end. And here he was, a decade later with a ring on his finger and a nice hyphenated name. Not to mention how he was basically a trophy husband.

Eddie hadn't wasted a moment of the last decade. A symptom of almost dying it would seem. He went for the GED, gathered the band back up, moved across the country to chase his dreams and play in every shitty dive bar he could until they were discovered. All while dragging Steve along for the ride.

As much as Steve had believed in him, neither of them had been prepared for his music career actually taking off. Especially not to the level it did. It was undeniable that his husband was an A-Lister, despite how universally hated he was by half the country. You don't get many out and proud metal front man who loved parading around his high school sweetheart at every social event he could. But Europe loved him, as did the entirety of gay, rebellious youths world wide.

It was so stupid. There Eddie was, painted as an insane freak who was fake-married. With tabloids running story after story about his secret children, his drug addiction, a wife from another country, anything that they could think of. All while Eddie spent every free moment at Steve's side, always opting for a night in with his baby when given the choice. And when he wasn't doing that, he was busy playing surrogate fun uncle to the kids, who were definitly not kids anymore. But that didn't stop them from all getting together for Dungeons and Dragons once a month, hundreds and hundreds of campaign hours on everyone's belts. And that was his life. Spending time with his family, forcing them on hikes and runs, volunteering, working occasionally to help Robin with her translating work, all while coming home to the sweetest thing that ever existed.

God, did Steve love that man. Reminiscing about the love of his life while he was on tour was not helping his fretful sleep. He just... really had given him everything. He loved him so much in fact that he was only slightly pissed when he was woken up at three a.m. from the phone ringing off the hook.

Steve reached for it blindly, still half-asleep when he mumbled, "Mm-Eds?"

"Steeeeeeeeeevie," Eddie's voice slurred back at him, "Baby booooy. How's my baby boy? I miss my baby boy."

Steve smiled despite himself, yawning into the phone. Eddie was lucky he was so cute, considering how the love of his life who could not remember what time zones were, "He misses you too. And he's a little tired right now babe. What's up?"

"Day drunk," Eddie sighed, "Guys, morning show, mimosas, hotel room to sleep it off. Missing you."

"You won't be missing me for long," Steve softly laughed. Though... hearing his voice was quite the reminder of how cold the bed suddenly felt, "Just... one more week. That's not too long right?"

"Too long!" Eddie groaned, dramatic, "I miss you now. Why can't I see you now? Wait-Can I see you now? Cause planes and trains and-"

"And no," Steve interrupted with a chuckle, "You'd only get me for a few hours before you'd have to leave again."

"Worth it," Eddie mumbled out, his voice a little muffled as he tumbled around in his hotel bed, "Want my baby."

The pathetic tilt to his voice was enough to make Steve's heart clench. God he was too precious. Suddenly a red-eye in the middle of the night for a two hour make-out session didn't sound like such a bad idea. But he could be the strong one for tonight, "You have me sweetheart. Want me to stay on until you fall asleep."

"Yes please," Eddie sighed, "Love your voice. It's so... nice. Like... audible perfume. Like poetry or something."

"Oh baby you are wasted," Steve said as he laid back down, nestling the phone to his ear, "Please tell me you drank some water before laying down?"

"... maybe?"

"Babe."

"I knoooow. Keep nagging me though. I missed that too."

"Is my bitching your bed time story?"

He could hear Eddie nodding, rusting against the fabric, "And it's the best. Keep going?"

Steve rolled his eyes, but he did what he was asked. Saying every silly little grievance he could think of. He whined about how cold it was in bed without him, how Eddie had promised to take out the trash before he left and forgot. Again. How he hated how quiet it was without him, how much he missed hearing his voice trailing in and out of every room.

And Eddie listened, mumbling out a few sleepy m'sorrys and I love yous along the way. Until all Steve could hear was the slow, steady sound of his breathing. But he didn't hang up. Not when that was one of his favorite sounds in the world. And the perfect thing to fall asleep to.

Steve smiled to himself as he closed his eyes, a little amazed that Eddie could still make him feel so loved, from hundreds of miles away.

But one thing was for sure. He still had to be the happiest man on earth.

356 notes · View notes

undead-supernova · 3 months

Text

I'll Pay the Price, You Won't.

Miss Heartbreak

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Masterlist

This chapter is based off of Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince by Taylor Swift and I'm starting to realize just how in deep I am in the lore and storytelling of her music. See if you can find my easter eggs, hm?

plot: no cameras catch my muffled cries...you are the only one who seems to care...this is a fight that some day we're gonna win

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: slut shaming, body image insecurities, public shaming, crying

easter egg count: 43

wc: 5.3k

When you first realized you were in love with him, it was a Saturday night. You weren’t even with him. In fact, you were at a house party with some of your best friends. They weren’t famous—these three girls were in college, just the way you should’ve been. You’d met them at a dive bar in Pittsburg while touring.

There was a distinct memory of watching these girls walk in, talking about their English courses and the ten-page research papers on the feminist lens of the works of Octavia Butler, rape culture in a novel called Waiting for the Barbarians, and how the third girl was doing some deep dive into the coded lesbianism in Gertrude Stein’s Tender Buttons. You approached them, desperate to know more about their class. Their studies. Their college experiences.

Desperate to know more about the life you gave away when your career blew up three days before moving into your dorm room.

They knew who you were, but they didn’t care to squeal or ask for pictures. Instead, they motioned for you to join them and started to complain about their shared Rhetorical Analysis class. And after a few Fireball shots, some poor attempts at karaoke, and loud debates about Jane Austen and Emily Brontë that nearly got you kicked out, you were solidified.

But there you were, at a college house party after flying out just to see them. You were in drastically different makeup than you were used to. In short, you were basically in Eddie Munson cosplay. Your friends had dressed you up, giggling and adding more charcoal eye shadow than you desired. Becky, Mary, and Este swore it would make you feel better. That you’d dance the night away without a care in the world.

But the couch was where you stayed the whole night, a mimosa (filled with more prosecco than orange juice) in your hands as you watched life exist around you. You were pretending to be a normal twenty-two year old girl. You were pretending that you could have love affairs with anyone you wanted to and if your heart got broken every single time, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to anyone outside of your friends that loved you.

And he would be there, too.

With your head to rest on his shoulder, listening to him talk about his Dungeons and Dragons game he hosted with the rest of the band when they were tucked away in hotel rooms. They were too big to go out without everyone and their mother following them, so they found a way to escape.

(People thought they did drugs and partied. And, at the start of the band, they did. Eddie had told you about having a coke problem in the beginning and Gareth, Jeff, and Grant trashing hotel rooms. Ronnie getting the cops called on her house regularly for the outrageous parties she hosted. But it died out after about a year when they realized how tiring it was to just be on all the time. They went to parties sometimes, but now they really looked forward to smoking a few joints and playing a fantasy game.)

In this fictional scenario, they’d congregate in the communal rooms at their dorm. They’d buy a few pizzas and beer, remembering to get the garlic twists of course, and play for six hours.

And you would lean over to his ear, brushing your lips against his ear and say, “I’m in love with you.”

As soon as it fell into your imagination, you were startled to the point of springing up and running to the bathroom, hyperventilating in the mirror. The rest of your night had been spent with your friends cuddling you in their shared apartment until you could calm down.

“It’s too soon for this!” you exclaimed. “It’s too soon for me to fall in love.”

They said that it was fine. That you were allowed to love him. That the chance at love was worth the bullshit. You could survive this, even if he didn’t feel the same. Maybe you would be able to connect better if you just told him how you felt.

But this was only a month after you started seeing each other.

Only a week before you two were caught in public together.

Only a week before the whole world had an opinion.

“I can’t believe we’re out at a restaurant in Manhattan of all places.”

“On a date,” he noted.

“On a date.”

“Oh, and happy four-month anniversary,” he said while holding up his piece of bread, leaning over to tap yours with it.

“Ah, yes. How could I forget?” you teased before stuffing the slice in your mouth, closing your eyes as you became overwhelmingly calmed by the taste of butter melting on your tongue.

It was super late on a Saturday, one of the only times you could get away with having a private dinner without the threat of paparazzi and lingering glances. You felt fancy, with a sparkly silver dress on, all short with thin straps and a small slit at the thigh. Tall, sparkly silver heels that made you nearly the same height as him. A fluffy pink faux fur coat sitting on the back of the chair (that Eddie had spent the whole drive here running his hands through). Pink nails to match, already chipped from your nervous picking.

Eddie was dressed beautifully, wearing a silk white button down. Simple black blazer and slacks. His signature boots. Those rings. That necklace. Hair up in a bun with bangs and stray hairs framing his face. The only real nontraditional part of his ensemble was a thin layer of black eyeliner adorning his eyelids and waterline, with mascara to match.

Oh, and a coat of lipgloss, lipgloss that he borrowed from you, that was now lining the rim of his wine glass.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “The wine, I mean.”

You looked down at the burgundy liquid you were absentmindedly swirling. You had no clue what that did for the drink or if it was just to look fancy, but it was something you saw your parents do growing up. You decided to take a crack at being an adult tonight, just to see how it felt.

“Yeah, it’s nice. Thank you.”

He nodded, but you could tell that he was still nervous about the whole thing. You couldn’t blame him. Being out for an official date together in the heart of a city with nearly nine million people who could ruin it at any second was quite a heavy burden. There was a part of you that feared that you had become a burden in the last four months.

Enough of that, you tried to tell yourself.

“However,” you added. “I do have to confess that I have absolutely no clue what the difference is between this and the stuff I get at the grocery store.”

Eddie let out a sigh and a breathy laugh. You wondered how long he’d been holding it in. “Well, that’s a relief because I was literally sitting here thinking the exact same thing.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you serious?”

He kept laughing. “Yes! I thought I was the only one!”

“No, this is literally exactly how I feel whenever I have dinner with some of the label execs,” you exclaimed. “They order all this like crazy expensive wine, and I have to just sit there and be like,” you raised the pitch of your voice, “Oh, wow. This is sooo cool. So good. What year is it? That must cost a fortune.”

Eddie nodded. “Me, too! And it’s like: Dude, seriously? I could get shit I like better than this at, like, Trader Joe’s or Target. Fuck, even Walmart.”

You giggled as you continued to nod with him. “Yes, yes, yes! I genuinely don’t get it. Everyone is so pretentious, I swear.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Eddie raised his glass. “Fuck ‘em.”

You grinned. “Fuck ‘em!” you agreed, clinking your glass with his before you took a hearty sip. Finally took a second glance around the room.

“I really thought there’d be more people here,” you observed. “Isn’t this, like, a popular restaurant? I hear celebs love this place.”

“I maaaay have bought out the empty tables,” Eddie admitted, looking sheepish. “I didn’t want our first official date to be bombarded with people we know or even ones we don’t. I wanted to make sure I could focus.”

A grin met your lips. “You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”

“That’s you, baby. That’s all you.”

The playful dinner conversation continued with a whole three course meal plus dessert. You came alive in public for once, talking in silly voices and laughing as loud as you wanted. Like you were best friends. Like you were lovers. Holding Eddie’s hand at the table without having to worry about cell phones. No one here was able to take away what was yours.

Despite feeling full, you couldn’t help but nibble on some more of the bread. Your personal trainer, Mary, forbid you from eating any while you were gearing up for another album release and tour. But you were starting to care a little bit less. And she wasn’t here. Eddie was, pushing the basket towards you.

But then the strangest thing happened as the waiter took your dinner plate.

As he turned to leave, you looked past him and saw that the other five occupied tables in the restaurant were…staring. And…so were their waiters? Had everyone finally started staring or were you only now noticing? But you would’ve noticed before…

They were all looking from their phones to you and then back again. The hushed whispers were getting a bit louder, even catching Eddie’s ears. He turned his head to look but was distracted when his phone started ringing.

Gareth.

“Take it,” you encouraged. Eddie raised an eyebrow. “It’s probably important.”

He nodded. “Hey,” he said as he answered. “No, I’m on an incredibly important date, remember?”

As you spread butter over the last slice, you couldn’t help but giggle when Eddie looked up at you with a quick wink and a smile meant only for you.

But then his eyebrows narrowed.

“What’re you doing watching cable?”

And a part of you wished you could hear the other side of the conversation when you watched Eddie’s neutral expression falling into anger.

“They what?”

“It’s fucking SNL. They haven’t had a good run in years. I don’t think anyone even watches—”

You noticed him get cut off before shaking his head.

“What? Why the fuck do people care?”

“Fuck…yeah, okay… Sure, whatever…” He sighed, pinching his nose in frustration. “No, I’m not mad at you. Promise… I’m sorry for being a dick. I just hate people, I swear…” A quick nod. “Thanks for understanding and letting me know. Love you, dude. Okay, talk later.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked as he immediately started searching for something on his phone. “Is everything okay?”

Eddie paused, looking away from his phone to bring his attention back to you.

His expression held something resembling an apology.

“The guys are watching TV back at the hotel and, uh, they were watching SNL…”

“Okay?”

“Apparently they did a skit about you.”

Your stomach dropped as you let his words sink in.

It was one thing to have random people on the internet give you shit. It was another thing entirely for a long-running, highly known television show to have grown adults portray you and spend four to six minutes making fun of you. Especially when you’d performed there merely two months ago.

“Is it…” you trailed, almost unable to speak.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Yeah, it’s bad.”

“It’s on YouTube already?” He nodded. “Let me see.”

“Are you sure you want to watch it?”

You nodded. “I should know what’s going on. Everyone’s already staring at us,” you stated, gesturing behind him.

When Eddie looked back at every nameless face watching you, every single person looked away. Like he commanded the room with his presence. Like he had the power to change the world with just one stare.

He had changed your world with just one glance.

Sighing, Eddie clicked on the video, holding it between you two on the table.

“I decided to go on The Bachelorette to prove that I haven't dated everyone,” a woman said with a huge grin, mimicking the way you smiled. "And to get new inspiration because I need to sell my next album. I'm sure this will be fun."

Some new addition to the cast tried to imitate your posture. Your voice. Your everything. She was acting like you were some ditsy girl. Did people really think of you like this? Is this how the cast and crew saw you when you were there?

A fake announcer's voice said, “Here are the men and women chosen for tonight.”

The woman impersonating you smiled even wider in a comedic fashion, making fun of the way you, what, didn't ever give a negative reaction? The camera turned to watch everyone file in.

The different men and women of the SNL cast rotated, pretending to be people you’d allegedly been with. But most of them were wrong. When you were rumored to be dating these people, friend or not, they left, either from wanting that clout or being unable to handle the noise. All you had wanted were real friendships, real relationships. But being burnt at the stake came with the possibility of flammable embers.

One after the other, impression after impression, they were reminding you of everyone you’d lost.

And was that Jacob Elordi pretending to be…Christopher Briney?

(You met Christopher once at the Emmy’s, having taken one fucking photo together before he was whisked away by his team. At the time, you had only wished he would notice you before he got a girlfriend…)

“We're missing one guy...where is he?” the announcer said.

Mikey Day popped in with a smoke machine behind him and some copyright free rock music playing, wearing a curly wig and pretending to be Eddie. The audience lost their minds, erupting in applause and laughter at the sheer mention of him. He was immediately stereotyped as a punk stoner who only pretended to listen to you talk while playing his guitar.

“Hey, babe,” he said, trying to mimic Eddie’s voice. “What’s up?”

You looked over at the real Eddie who looked less than impressed. Less than affected by someone trying to make fun of him. You wished you could say the same for yourself.

“I CHOOSE HIM FOR MY NEXT ALBUM!” the woman shouted before ripping up the roses and walking over. However, she turned and pointed at the others. "Save them for me in case I get bored.”

As she grabbed onto "Eddie's" arm and professed her love, it was clear that he wasn't paying attention. "Are you even listening to me?" she shouted.

“Nah, baaabe,” he said and then realized his “mistake”. Cue laughter. “I’m totes paying attention.” Laughter. “Just practicing this sick riff for the band.” He raised his guitar before turning it the other way. “Does it look cool this way, babe?” Laughter ensued as he pretended to play his guitar right-handed. “Do I look metal as hell?”

“Totally, babe,” the woman said, giggling. “You’re so hot.”

“Ah, babe, thanks. I know it’s been three minutes but this is forever, babe.”

When the skit ended, Eddie turned it off and shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to tell yourself more than him. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Did anyone see what was happening? That this was starting to get out of hand? It was like nobody gave a shit, nobody cared that you were human. Yes, you were privileged and had money, you knew that. You grew up fucking poor, hit even worse with the 2008 recession, hardly ever recovering.

You always acknowledged your privilege, always made it a point to give it away to people who needed it more than you. Provided for your family so your parents didn’t have to go back to working at the sawmill and being fucking tour guides for next to nothing at Graceland. (The fucking irony.) Donated constantly to animal shelters, women’s shelters, LGBTQIA+ youth organizations, etc. etc.

But no one would know any of that because you kept that secret. Kept it hidden to be the face of your label, with a shiny pageant smile. You were now the punching bag, the reflection of society that every YouTuber did deep dives on and now SNL was taking a shot at.

When would it end?

“Are you?” Eddie asked, causing you to come out of the fog. “‘Cause your hands are shaking.”

You looked down, realizing he was right. “I—”

Before you could say anything, your own phone buzzed. Looking down, you noticed a text from Becky. It was a link to a video on Twitter or X or whatever the fuck it was called now. Her text read,

Look how delusional the internet is. I don’t care about this crap but I wanted to make sure you knew what was going on before you got bamboozled or something. Also, fuck that SNL skit. Love you.

“There’s more,” you murmured, looking up at Eddie’s concerned expression.

“Fuck.”

He stood up immediately and pulled over the chair next to you. He sat and leaned in, just as deep into this as you were. You didn’t hesitate to click on the link. It was just another band-aid to rip off anyways.

The caption said:

are gareth ronnie and grant next? lmao eddie shouldn’t have gone anywhere near her. the vibes are soooo off

You heard Eddie scoff as he read it.

The video attached was of you and Jeff walking around New York City that very morning, laughing together. You nudged his arm, animatedly talking.

You knew what had happened, distinctly remembering that the conversation was about Eddie. Jeff had been teasing you, telling you that he knew you were disgustingly in love with him and that you needed to just say it before you lost your minds. You thought it was funny, so you jokingly nudged his arm and pretended to threaten violence. That was it. Nothing else happened.

“No!” you exclaimed, wild-eyed as you turned to Eddie. “No, Jeff and I went to get this chocolate mousse at this little bistro we both like. We told you before we left, remember? I swear it was the truth. We were literally talking about you. Eddie, I—”

“It’s all good, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupted, kissing your temple four times. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s okay. I believe you. I know you’d never do anything like that.” You felt yourself breathe again. “Besides, Jeff has a crush on our tech manager anyways.”

That made you chuckle for a second, but you felt yourself deflate, putting a hand on your forehead as tears trickled down your cheeks. “I’m scared. I don’t like this, Eddie.”

“Me neither.”

Before you could say anything else, your waiter was approaching the table.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” the waiter asked, hands politely clasped in front of him. You avoided his gaze, embarrassment flooding your system. There was something irrational telling you that he would tell the internet about your breakdown, expose you for your reaction.

But when you glanced at him, he actually looked…concerned.

“Yeah, could we get the check, please?” Eddie asked in a hushed voice, running his fingers down your back. “We’re gonna need a minute, but I just wanna get that out of the way.”

“Of course, Mr. Munson.” he responded before turning to you. “I can take that plate for you if you’d like?”

“Oh, yes, sorry,” you said, sniffling.

Without thinking, you moved your hand to grab your bread plate, accidentally knocking your glass on the table. You watched as the wine seeped into the white cloth, staining the fabric.

Eddie was quick to grab the glass before it shattered on the floor.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, taking your napkin and trying to blot the stain. You kept glancing up at the waiter through your tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That’s so rude of me. I’m so sorry.”

The waiter shook his head. “It’s okay, ma’am. We have a hundred more in the back. This happens all the time.”

“Here,” you said, shaking your head as you rummaged through your purse. When you found your wad of cash, you handed him a one-hundred-dollar bill. “Take this. For you, not the restaurant. I’m so sorry.”

He gaped at you, looking down at the bill before looking back up. “Um, thank you,” he said, breaking his customer service voice before taking the cash from you. “I’ll get everything sorted for you right away.”

“Sweetheart.”

“I want to leave,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Can we leave?”

You looked over at Eddie who was already standing and grabbing your coat.

“Yeah, baby,” he said softly. “I’ll pay up front. Come on, let’s go.”

But it wasn’t really going to be that simple, was it?

As soon as you reached the front doors, James and Scott, your personal bodyguard, were stopping you.

“Guys, uh, we got a situation,” Scott said, mainly looking at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“There’s a fuck ton of paparazzi out there.”

“And that’s the only way we can get to the car,” James added.

You wanted to look at Eddie, but you didn’t want him knowing just how scared you were. He was so stoic and strong, always being able to shrug everything off. It was like he was born for this.

Maybe you weren’t.

“Okay,” Eddie said, putting his shoulders back before grabbing your hand. His grasp was firm with a gentle squeeze that left your heart soaring despite the fear. He nudged your arm, causing you to look up. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You nodded, looking back at James and Scott, tear stains still adorning your cheeks. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

A gasp left your mouth as the doors opened and a swarm of people with cameras crowded around you. Flashes and red recording lights and cell phones. Screams, gasps. Some fans tried to catch your attention the best they could, but their voices were drowned out by the incessant vultures. James and Scott were on either side of you, pushing people out of the way.

But it did nothing. It only sprung more tears.

Paparazzi shouted your name. Shouted Eddie’s.

“What did you think of the SNL skit?”

“Any comment on the cheating allegations?”

“Is this thing between you serious?”

They were all variations of the same thing.

Except for one voice that stood out from the rest.

“Hey, why are you crying?”

You turned, seeing a teenage girl who looked barely fourteen, maybe fifteen, with rainbow braces and friendship bracelets in her hand. She stood next to who you presumed to be her mother, over by the curb. Set apart from the hive.

Despite your better judgment, you nudged Scott and walked over to her quickly.

“I want to talk to her,” you told him loudly, disconnecting your hand from Eddie’s.

Scott nodded. “You got maybe a minute and a half before things get buckwild.”

“She’s got this,” Eddie said. You looked at him and smiled.

Thank you, you mouthed before rushing over to the girl.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Just got a lot going on, hun,” you said softly, trying to smile but your tears clouded your vision. Your only hope was that the sight wouldn’t scar her for the rest of her life. “What’s your name?”

“Caroline,” she said before handing you the bracelets. “I made these for you.”

Her mom placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up. “She’s been keeping them with her just in case she ever saw you in the city. She’s a big, big fan.”

You could only try to smile again, studying the colors Caroline chose to represent your last few albums. Light blue to represent your self-titled album. A soft sage for your second, “Tetris”. Sparkling gold for your last album, “Acacia My Dear”. There were even one or two that had references to inside jokes shared between you and the fans.

“These are beautiful,” you told her, immediately rolling them onto your wrist. “Thank you so much, Caroline.”

“Could I get a picture of you two?” her mom asked.

“Hey,” Scott interrupted. “Sorry, we gotta cut this short. They’re pressin’ in on us.”

You nodded, looking back at Caroline. “Thank you so much, Caroline. This means everything to me,” you said honestly. Without thought, you gave her a tight hug. “You just made everything better,” you whispered in her ear.

When you pulled back, her mom grabbed your hand. “You’re doing great things,” she said, softly squeezing your hand. “Don’t let those bastards win.”

Before you could even process her words or thank her, Scott was pulling you back to Eddie. Scott seemed a little softer, blonde hair still peppering with gray. He was from Tennessee, like you, his accent just noticeable enough to give him away. James seemed to contrast him, with thick muscles, frown lines across his forehead, and a bald head. Oh, and did you mention that he was a hardass from Ireland?

Your grasp on Eddie’s hand tightened with every passing second before you were finally enclosed in the confines of the black van.

The walk to the car was only, what, two minutes? Three?

But it felt like forever.

The waterworks continued, wracking your body with sobs you didn’t realize were just brewing behind the façade you were able to put up on any given occasion.

Scott took the driver’s seat while James took shotgun. You could just barely make out what they were whispering.

“Fucking vampires, the lot of ‘em,” James said, shaking his head.

“Them two deserve better,” Scott replied. “They’re just fucking kids.”

Eddie pulled you into his side, making sure you were hidden from any and all intrusion even if the windows were severely tinted.

You had an urge, however miniscule it felt, to go on your Instagram story and be bitter about it. Tell SNL to fuck off and remind them how sexist and gross it was to put you in a sketch just to make fun of your dating history when there were men around you who ran through women like sport and talked about them like each one was a momentary fad.

But you knew what would happen. You would be considered overreacting. You’d be a woman scorned and laughed at for caring so much despite the rest of the fucking internet seeming to care more.

So, you did nothing. Said nothing.

You merely curled yourself further into Eddie and fought the urge to have a mental breakdown.

“We’re getting out of the city,” he whispered. “Back to your place.”

“It’s a long drive,” you mumbled.

“I don’t mind. Really. We made the drive out here, remember?” Eddie shook his head. “Speaking of, I’m sorry. I should’ve chosen somewhere more secluded.”

“You shouldn’t have to. We shouldn’t have to.”

He leaned back, tilting your chin up to make eye contact with you. “I want you to feel safe.”

“But I want us to be normal people going to a normal restaurant and have a normal date.”

“We’ll win this fight, okay?” he said, tracing his thumb along your cheeks as the tears came and went. “They have to get bored soon enough, yeah? TikTok will move on to its next viral bullshit anytime now. We just have to wait it out.”

“It’ll just go away?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.” Both you and Eddie let out a sigh. “Listen, okay? Just listen to me. We’ll figure this out. I’ll tell the world to fuck off. Just give me the word and I’ll do it.”

“That’ll just egg them on.”

He kissed your wet cheek. Pulling back, you could see the color return to his face as he smiled. “I could always pull an Ozzy.”

That got a giggle out of you, a few snot bubbles awkwardly falling down your lips. Eddie didn’t mind, simply grabbing a tissue to help wipe it away.

“Absolutely do not do that,” you said with a sigh, grabbing another one.

“Then I won’t. But I’m here in front of you. I want you. I need you.”

You nodded, your eyes glassy and wild as you tried to stop crying.

“Alright, babe?” he exaggerated, imitating Mikey Day. “I’m metal as hell, babe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. You looked up at him, watching a playful grin meet his lips.

“Oh, yeah, babe,” you played along, still wiping your tears. “You’re sooooo hot, babe.”

Eddie nearly suffocated you with another hug, rapidly kissing the top of your head. You couldn’t help but giggle again, feeling some weight lifting off of you. For the first time, you had someone in your life who was blocking out the noise.

“You know, the jokes aren’t even funny,” he said. “I don’t know why they’re making fun of a right-handed guitar. Jimi Hendrix had one and that guy’s a legend.”

“I think the point was to make you look dumb by playing it upside down.”

“Mmmm, I don’t think so, babe,” he teased. “I’m, like, sooooo smart.”

“You’re soooo right, babe.” “Okay, I’m cutting us off. I just know we won’t stop talking like this.”

The laughter died out, silence ensuing. Eddie was fiddling with your bracelets, his touch settling the storm in your stomach.

“Why did you walk over to that girl?”

You thought about her, Caroline, and how she was the only one outside to ask if you were okay. All she wanted was to give you bracelets. Had been keeping them with her just in case she ever saw you. Fuck, if that wasn’t one of the most shocking things you’d ever heard from a fan. It was kind. And when she did see you, she cared more about how you were feeling.

“She asked me why I was crying,” you said. “She actually cared. It meant something to me.”

“You really love the fans, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

The night seemed to settle into comfortable silliness, ending with pints of Ben & Jerry’s and the start of another TV show for you two to binge. You settled into his side with fuzzy socks and old pajamas from before all of the bullshit ensued. They were probably ten years old, from the thrift store down the street from your childhood home. The hand-me-downs that never seemed to get holes, the ones that always seemed to save you from the brink of madness.

Eddie was donning a similar outfit, just with a few holes here and there. Baseball tee with a logo for his old D&D group, Hellfire Club, back in high school. Some of the lines were starting to crack, the red fading into something nearly blood orange.

It was comforting to know that Eddie was able to shrug it all off. That he was able to guide you through this fear and loathing. But some part of you wondered how long that could last. All the heat and dismissal and scrutiny and humiliation. All the assumptions and poking.

Because if he wanted to do this, if he was in it for the long haul, this was going to be how it was for the rest of your careers, for the rest of your lives. He wasn’t going to be able to shrug everything off. What happens when he’s poked at? When he’s the one in your shoes?

And as you laid there at 2am with Eddie fast asleep next to you, you were starting to wonder about yourself. Because if you wanted to do this, if you wanted to follow wherever he led, you were going to have to endure. Watching him sleeping soundly, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could last.

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #Eddie Munson x female reader #boyfriend!eddie munson

68 notes · View notes

thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 years

Text

tulip

A/N: listen, I just wanted the vibes, I didn't feel like fleshing out a whole and complete story, just stuck to the nice images floating up in my brain noggin.

summary: "...that we all just wanna be happy, want each other to be happy, so that’s just what we should do, be happy together..."

warnings: Steve Harrington x reader x Eddie Munson, just vibes without a plot, kinda love triangle, polyamory, kissing (so many sloppy, messy kisses), allusion to masturbation, unprotected sex, threesome, dirty talk, praise, fingering, oral sex, blowjob, handjob, tiny bit of impact play, penetrative sex, tiny bit of size kink (it's canon, Steve is fat af), let's be honest it's mostly just a bunch of cuddlefucking, reader being blind with love, Eddie being a chaotic little bean and Steve being the "grown-up" in the dynamic

word count: 3681

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

Running up to greet your neighbour, like clockwork, your stomach was filled with thousands of butterflies, “Eddie! When did you get back?”

Pulling you into a hug, he lifted you a few inches off the grass, and beamed into your hair, “not that long ago.”

“We missed you here,” you hummed, closing your eyes, and breathing in his familiar scent.

Pulling back, he kept one of his hands on your shoulder, huge grin still plastered on his face.

“So,” it was still summer, why did his rings still feel so cool against your skin? “are you like some big-time rock star now?”

“Nah,” his thumb played with the strap of your tank top, “it was just a few small dive bars across Indiana. Not exactly CBGB,” he loosened his grip, ghosting his fingers down your arm before disappearing completely, assuring that your body was completely covered in goosebumps if you weren’t already, “but what about you? How was your summer?”

“Oh, nothing crazy,” you sucked in a sharp breath of air at the loss of contact, “mostly just worked a lot…”

Gliding his vision over your form as you crossed your arms, he bit his lip in an effort not to smirk at what he asked next, “and how’s Steve?”

“Steve?” your eyes grew wide, “h-how would I know?”

“News travel fast here in Hawkins,” he breathed out, leaning back against the picnic table behind him, then added with a sly grin, never taking his eyes off you, “also we are next-door neighbours and the walls on a trailer are not very thick…”

“Oh my god…” your hands shot up to cover the tomato that was now your face, “oh my god!”

“I had no idea you could make those noises…” he kept going, clearly having a field day with this.

“Eddie, please,” you groaned into your palms.

“Yes?” he grinned.

“Don’t… you-,” you pealed your hands off your face and stared determinately up at the clouds, not daring to look at him for even a second, “can you just pretend you didn’t hear any of it?”

“I don’t know if I can do that, sweetheart,” the dungeon master clasped his hands together, interlocking the fingers, making his metal rings clang together, “and I am really fucking good at playing pretend.”

Taking a deep breath, you winced slightly, “please don’t say stuff like that…”

“Why? Because you’ll stick your big strong boyfriend on me?” then added in a voice dripping in sarcasm, “ohh, so scared. What’s he gonna do? Style my hair?”

You already had your suspicions that you still weren’t over your agonising and ancient crush on your next-door neighbour, but this just confirmed your theory in the most mortifying of ways.

Finally backing off, he stopped snickering and asked, “so how did it happen anyways? You and him.”

“Why do you all of a sudden wanna braid each other's hair and talk about boys?” you finally looked at him.

“You’ve just never had a boyfriend like that before, colour me curious.”

“Yeah, well if you look past all the hairspray and the charm, he might just surprise you,” he certainly had surprised you. Sure, you’d known him for years, gone to the same school, but he’d always just been the popular boy in your eyes and nothing more, honestly thought he was kind of a dick at first, but then the two of you happened to have the same summer job and everything changed. To say that he wooed you was an understatement. To be quite frank, he’d given you a summer romance worthy of being transcribed into a book with Fabio on the cover. He had made you fall in love with him. Just, until now, you had assumed that those feeling would have somehow cancelled out the long-festering ones you had for Eddie, but alas, seems that wasn’t how it worked.

Still whining softly, you came down from your self-induced euphoric high.

Yep, you were still very much in love with him alright! Damn it. Why couldn’t it just be simple and clean, one person at a time, but no! Clearly not! The sight of his figure now occupying your bedroom window’s view once more had driven you over the edge and had been enough of a spark to give you one of the best orgasms you’d had on your own in a long time.

“Well, that was… wow,” someone uttered, and you ripped your wet fingers out from your underwear and sat straight up in the bed, jumping at the sight of your boyfriend standing in the doorway, mouth agape.

“How long have you been standing there?” did you hear me moan out a different name than yours?

“Long enough,” he breathed out, the raging hard-on in his slacks being clear as day, “although, now I really wish I had been here just a little sooner. Could have given you the real deal to drool over instead of being stuck using your memory,” he crept closer.

“Who says that I'm done?” you tried to filter out your still active spank bank.

Situating yourself at the foot of the bed, kneeling, he stared down at you, parts of his perfect hair flopped forward, sheltering his dark eyes. Reaching out, caressing your glowing cheek, he skimmed the pad of his thumb over your lips and you kissed it softly.

“The stamina on you, babe. It’s enough for a whole football team to have fun with and you’d probably still ask for seconds,” finding his zipper, you tugged on it, getting one layer closer. Slipping his thumb inside your mouth, letting your tongue explore the familiar digit, he muttered, “you drive me fucking crazy…”

Practically drooling over the way Eddie’s fingers moved over the strings of his guitar, you sat close enough to see every single vein pop out, straining against the difficult riff. Practically laying down on his messy bed, his eyes were locked on the instrument itself, seemingly unaware of your hungry eyes, properly thinking you were still reading the magazine in your lap.

“So… what’s the new trend this fall?” he glanced up at you and you tried your best to act quick, avert your gaze, and look back down at the colourful pages.

“Um,” you scrambled your brain for some answer that wasn’t just about how hot he looked right now. Those hands… fuck. Those skilful fucking hands… The first thing your eyes caught sight of was a puffy, purple dress, so that’s what you blurted out, completely flustered, “purple.”

“Hm, interesting,” he plucked away at the strings, then suggested, “you know, if you want to, I could drive you to the mall.”

“Why? You hate the mall.”

“But I don’t hate you,” he stated, looking up at the ceiling of his bedroom.

Exhaling deeply, “I don’t hate you either Eddie…”

“Oh, I am very aware of how much you don’t hate me,” he ripped his eyes away from the ceiling to flash you a knowing smirk. His song suddenly stopped, as he sat up straight, fixated on something on your face, “wait, just-, you have a little-,“ and two of his fingers plucked a hair away that unbeknownst to you had stuck to your lip, “there,” he let out a sigh of relief and tucked that and a few more hairs behind your ear, “that was fucking killing me and I just couldn’t stop myself from fixing it.”

One second, he was just sitting there, guitar in lap, a hand in your hair, innocently playing with it, but what happened next felt like being struck by lightning. Suddenly, his lips pressed against yours and he kissed you. Eddie kissed you. It was much softer, gentler than you’d imagined he would kiss you, especially for the first time. You’d always thought it would be all or nothing with him every time, but no, surprisingly, the cocky bastard wasn’t like that.

Pulling back, he swiped his thumb over your cheek and looked at you dreamily.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, desperately wanting to go dive back in for more, but then thoughts of Steve found you and your head slumped down, “fuck.”

“I gotta know, how long has it been?”

“What?” you looked up at him in utter shock.

“What, you didn’t think I knew? Honey, you aren’t that subtle at hiding your feelings.”

“I-… Eddie…”

Taking a deep breath, he looked you over once more, and guessed quietly, “you still like him, huh?”

“Yeah… but I-“

“Like I said, not subtle at hiding your feelings,” he cut you off, scooting further away from you on the mattress, “It’s okay. All I want for you is to be happy and if that means Steve, then that’s fine by me.”

“Eddie…”

“It’s fine,” he rushed out, “I’m fine, promise.”

“Do you like him?” Steve asked hesitantly, looking down at your comparatively small hand, how it was engulfed in his.

“Yeah… I never really stopped…”

Eddie had been your first serious crush. He was your neighbour. He was funny and sweet and kind. He had just kissed you! Of course, you liked him.

“Do you-… do you still like me?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, never doubting it for a moment, “I never stopped.”

“So, you like him… but also me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly.

“Okay… okay,” you could see the gears turning.

“…okay?”

“I’ll be back later,” he let go of your hand and got up, “I need to go talk to him.”

“You, what?”

Stopping in his tracks, he spun around, rushed to you, and bent down to give you a kiss. Raising a hand to touch his forearm, you let out a shaky sigh against his lips.

Pulling back, he took a deep breath, then stated quietly, “I love you,” then turned back to his determent mission, “wait for me to get back, okay? Wait right here,” and vanished out the door.

“Good morning!” a singsongy voice woke you from your slumber.

“Munson, it’s like 2 am.”

“So, what, you want me to wake her with an ominous good evening? Uh! I should remember that for my next campaign, that could be creepy as fuck.”

Blinking your eyes open, you squinted up at not just the man who had promised his return, but also an unexpected visitor.

“Hey,” you gave a soft smile.

“Hey, babe,” Steve breathed out, sitting on the bed beside you, while Eddie hovered in the background of your still sleepy eye line.

Slowly sitting up, you took a moment to look from one to the other, inspecting if there was any danger at play, but all you saw were just bright smiles. “So, I’m guessing you two didn’t kill each other?”

“No,” Steve informed you, stroking your hair, properly taking care of some of your sleep-induced frizz. He then looked back at Eddie, “we just had a long talk…”

“Yeah…” he agreed slowly.

Why did they look so buddy-buddy all of a sudden, “…talk?”

“Yep,” Steve nodded.

“Turns out,” Eddie joined you on the bed, “we’ve got more in common than you might think,” he fiddled with his rings, spinning one of them around his finger.

“Really?” you hugged your knees to your chest.

“Mhm,” Steve hummed, “just to save you from a long-winded description of every little thing we talked about, the important takeaway is that we both care about you a lot and want you to be happy. We want to make you happy. So then we came up with an idea-“

“Well,” Eddie interjected, “I came up with it, I suggested it.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s not the important part-“

“But I did, I just think she deserves to know that-”

“And now she does!”

“So, um,” you sat there and carefully observed the looks they shoot at each other, “what is this idea?”

“Yeah, it’s, um…” Steve started, “that we all just wanna be happy, want each other to be happy, so that’s just what we should do, be happy together.”

Furrowing your brow, you breathed out a tiny chuckle, “do you mean-“

“That we all just bang?” Eddie interjected with a grin, “that’s one word for it, sure.”

“Seriously?”

“What? Do you not want to?” Steve’s hand came to rest on your knee.

“No, that’s not what I was saying, it’s just a pretty serious thing, so I, um, I can’t really tell if this is all just some elaborate joke or am I dreaming right now? I’m totally dreaming!” leaning forward, Eddie reached under the duvet and pinched you, “ow! Hey!”

Doing a double take at the stink eye he received from Steve, Eddie clarified, “see, not a dream.”

“You could have just told me.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t,” he smiled, obviously taking it as an excuse to touch you.

“So,” Steve gathered your attention back up, “if you’re in, then we are as well.”

“Both of you?” you searched their eyes.

“Yes,” they both chimed.

“Really?” you jumped slightly in your seat, making the blanket fall from your body.

“Yeah, really,” Eddie confirmed.

And with that, you tackled them both in a big hug, giggling as their backs hit the mattress. Closing your eyes, you felt kisses begin to bloom on each side of your face. Turning your head, you first caught the lips of Steve, then turned to kiss Eddie, whose fingers were already tangled in your hair.

Soon, the kissing and cuddling turned into more. You were now sprawled out, your back leaning against Steve’s warm chest, and with Eddie's head between your legs, eagerly pushing your blue, floral nightgown up well above your hips.

“Jesus fuck, if only you knew the amount of times I’ve dreamt about this,” he nibbled at your thighs.

Gliding a hand down to palm your left breast, Steve kissed your neck, effectively starting a fight with your eyelids to make them stay open and actually experience the glorious sight in front of you and not just feel it. “He doesn’t even know the half of it yet, I’m telling you, man, once you start, you can’t ever stop, she’s like a drug…”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t mind illicit substances, do you, Eddie?” you grinned, watching closely as his face greeted your clothed cunt with a blissful peck over the small soaked spot, then promptly hooked his fingers into the sides of your light underwear and tugged them down, tossing them over his shoulder.

“Drugs? Me?” he joked dramatically, “well, I would never. I have never done anything illegal in my entire life! I am just as innocent as a little baby,” his eyes locked with yours as he ran his palm back up your leg until it met your bare core. When you let out a genuine laugh, he exclaimed, “oh, fuck, remind me to make you laugh one day when I’m inside of you, please, holy fuck would it feel incredible.”

“Well, I’m not gonna stop you if you wanna get I clearer picture-“ your giggle became more breathy as he sank his long middle finger into you, groaning at the way your joy made your walls clench down around him.

“Fuck,” he dove in head first, not being able to wait any longer, needing a taste. Growling something incoherent against your clit, your jaw hung loose, and you found one of Steve’s arms for support, digging your nails into it, surely leaving a few crescent marks in its wake.

Feeling Steve’s knuckles gently tilt your chin up in his direction, he kissed you, swallowing your moans on his tongue. Gradually rotating your upper body to face him more, it didn’t take long for Eddie to peak up, notice your twisted form, and then swiftly flip your hips around, detaching himself just for that moment before going back in.

Pulling your knees up under you, you felt Eddie's hands wrap around your hips. No, it wasn’t just his hands. He was basically hugging you, pulling your hips up and closer to his face.

Moving your sloppy kisses away from Steve’s sweet lips, with one hand he pulled his t-shirt over his head, and you started trailing your messy pecks down his neck, shoulder, chest, abdomen, and soon your nose was pressed into his happy trail, smiling as he tugged the rest of his layers off for you.

Smiling so hard that your face almost hurt, you wrapped your fingers around the thick length presented in front of your grin, but before you could do anything more, you felt two of Eddie’s fingers curl inside you, making your eyes roll and your back arch.

“Stick out your tongue baby,” you felt one of Steve’s hands run through your hair and the other join your right one at the base of his cock. Tapping his heavy dick on your outspread tongue, he sucked in a sharp breath, “Yeah, that’s my girl.”

Pulling away, you suddenly lost the toe-curling contact of Eddie's tongue and fingers. Getting back up, he just stared for a while, completely hypnotised, and leisurely took his dark clothes off.

As you began to swallow Steve whole, you felt a sharp whack hit your glimmering pussy and then a pair of hands yank your ass back up into position. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” Eddie moved in close, tapping the leaking head of his cock teasingly against your screaming clit. “Just begging for me to come in a play… would be so easy to just-” and he sank into you, causing you to moan filthily around Steve’s length. “Jesus fuck, yes!”

This was something straight out of a dream. They were both inside you, filling you up. Holy shit, the fact that this was actually real life made you feel like you were gonna pass out in the best way.

Rings digging into your skin, Eddie used your hips at first to fuck himself on you, effectively pulling your lips from Steve and letting your blissful sounds run free.

Blinking up at Steve, he reached down to cradle your face, moving close to kiss your cheek sweetly, “you like that, huh? You like the way Eddie feels inside of you?”

Sliding one hand down to palm your boobs, somewhat stopping the way Eddie's thrusts made them jiggle wildly, you whimpered, “y-yes.”

“Yeah, you do? Are you gonna cum?” he nuzzled his nose against yours, “cream all over his big dick, huh?”

As Eddie’s palm came down on your ass, all you did was nod and screw your eyes shut.

“There you go, there you go, baby, that’s it,” Steve smiled at your bliss.

Letting out a shaky breath, your knees didn’t just threaten to give out, but actually did when Eddie pulled out of your still quivering cunt. Flopping down on the mattress, the boys didn’t leave you lying there long before hugging you close and pulling you further up the bed, keeping you safe and warm in between them.

Keeping your eyes closed, you felt Steve’s stomach against your spine, making his breaths deliberately clear for you to copy.

“You good, Y/n?” Eddie scooted closer to you, kissing your nose.

“Yeah, I’m perfect,” you smiled, resting a hand on his chest, “just really r-… re-…”

“…Relaxed?” he suggested the word out brain was too fogged up to recall.

“Yes, relaxed…”

Lazily grinding into your backside, it almost felt accidental that Steve slipped inside of you at the moment he did, not that you were complaining, they gave you enough time and cuddles to coax your body back to them, making you starved for more.

Dipping his head down, Eddie buried his face in your tits, capturing one of the hard nipples between his teeth. You could feel him fucking his fist, being pressed all the way up against you, occasionally nudging the tip up against your sensitive clit.

“God, you’re so fucking cute!” Eddie squealed and nipped your boob.

“Being such a good girl for us,” Steve groaned in your ear, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up.

“Making all those gorgeous sounds,” Eddie chimed in, “you’d think you were the musician.”

Letting out a meek giggle, “you know I can’t sing for shit,” unintentionally clenching down on Steve’s cock in the process.

“Shit, you’re fucking choking me, baby,” he gasped, snaking his arms around your waist, hugging you tighter.

“Shut up,” Eddie jumped slightly, quickly forgetting about the comfort of your boobs, “shut up! I said I wanted to feel that!” his genuine eagerness and childlike jealousy only made your giggle evolve into an actual laugh, almost stopping Steve’s ramming completely.

“No, seriously dude, if you keep making her laugh like that, I’m gonna cum,” Steve pleaded.

One hand found Eddie’s face and you brought it down, first giving him a slow, soft kiss in a successful attempt at silencing the comment that was about to fly off his tongue, then when his mind was effectively melted, you reached down your other hand to help his feverish jerking, all the while still giving him the most tranquil of make outs.

Keeping his own fingers around the base, you stroked the rest of his length, rubbing the tip up against you, gathering more of your arousal and soaking his dick even more.

Feeling the high grow, you saw the edge of the cliff right there, you could taste it, you were so close. Steve’s size had long ago stopped being a surprise to you, but at this moment, this very moment, holy fuck did he stretch you out in the best fucking way, successfully making you see stars. Big dipper, little dipper, Orion's belt! All of the constellations, clear as day.

Trembling in between them, your head bowed down low, curling in on yourself as you cried out in pleasure.

Feeling in that exact moment Steve cum as well, he buried his face in the crook of your neck and filled you up, pumping against your throbbing walls.

It didn’t take long either for Eddie to follow suit, panting, you opened your eyes just in time to look down and see him paint your messy cunt his hot load.

934 notes · View notes

proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

nothing else matters

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 2,454

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list | Masterlist

Part 2 | Part 3

Summary:

It’s been a few months since Corroded Coffin has played at The Hideout. Ever since recording an actual album and having one of their songs picked up on the radio, they’ve been securing actual shows, with actual crowds.

But whenever they’re within fifty miles of good ol’ Hawkins, they drop into the grimy dive and put on a show. The crowds are bigger, with fans coming in from surrounding towns and cities, but there’s one constant he looks forward to every time.

The new bar owner. As of two years ago, crotchety old Hank finally sold the bar to the hottest woman he's ever seen.

Additional tags: rockstar eddie munson, blow jobs, semi-public sex, degradation, praise kink, spit kink, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, pet names

The new bar owner. As of two years ago, crotchety old Hank finally sold the bar to the hottest woman he’s ever seen.

Eddie watches with you rapt attention as you put away the clean glasses and polish the scuffed bar top. When you turn, he gets a delicious eyeful of your ass and the way it’s hugged by the leather pants you’re wearing. Behind him, Garett grunts under the weight of the amp he’s pulled into the small side stage area.

“Thanks so much for the help, Eddie,” he quips sarcastically, snagging a beer from the bucket on the floor of the stage. He flicks the cap off and raises it in a salute to you across the bar.

Jeff trails inside, a case in each hand that he sets on the stage. His eyes narrow at Eddie. “Left the drums for you, buddy.”

With a groan, Eddie heads out the side door.

———

It’s always a full house when the boys from Corroded Coffin come back to play. Which is surprising, given how much shit the town gave them for being different back when they were kids and teens just trying to play music and Dungeons and Dragons without being harassed. But most of the crowd isn’t even locals, but hardcore fans that have made the trip just to see the boys after finding out they’re hosting an “underground show”.

Jim Hopper is here, though, showing his support under the guise of keeping an eye on El. You know he won’t admit it, but he’s proud that Eddie, who frequently found himself in the back of a police cruiser, is doing what he loves and staying out of trouble. You slide him a cold beer and he tips his head in silent thanks.

The rag tag group of kids that used to follow Eddie around in high school are crowded around a table as well. Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Max, El, and Will, now seniors, always try to make it to see their former Dungeon Master play. Especially since you don’t charge them cover and let them order as much pop as they want. Max makes eye contact with you and waves, making you smile. They’re good kids, and you’ve only ever had to throw them out once for trying to sneak alcohol. Once was enough, after facing your wrath.

Other than that, the small bar is full of strangers. Men dressed in black denim, leather, and chains, with tattoos covering any visible skin. Women dressed in tight pants and skirts, makeup done up and hair teased to perfection. They crowd the bar, putting you and the other two weekend bartenders to work as they order buckets of beer or the occasional mixed drink.

“God, he’s so fucking hot,” a woman says, back pressed to the bar as she stands to face the stage. You follow her eyes and note her hungry gaze falls on Eddie, where he’s adjusting his mic stand and plugging his signature Warlock NJ series guitar into his amp and testing his chords.

“I know, right? But I heard he never goes home with anyone,” another woman beside her laments, red painted lips pursed in a pout.

“Bet I could change that,” the first woman replies, shoulders thrown back with confidence. She sets her empty cup on the bar and shimmies her top down to expose a bit more of her ample cleavage. She heads over to the stage and you watch as she taps Eddie on the arm and he leans forward, her mouth getting close to his ear so that she can be heard above the noise.

A hand waves for your attention and you move to the end of the bar, your unobstructed view of the exchange broken. You fill several orders back to back, making change and pocketing tips, before you notice that the woman is back at the bar, a sullen look on her face.

“Hey, Hawkins, we’re Corroded Coffin, your local devil worshippers,” Eddie says into the mic, earning him a laugh from the crowd. You finish up serving more people, before tapping Mark on the shoulder and letting him know you’re taking a break.

“Got it, boss,” he says as he fills the ice well.

You’re still getting used to that title. You bought the bar for dirt cheap from the former owner, Hank, because he was desperate to sell it, but not desperate enough to sell to a developer who was going to mow it down and build a strip mall on top of it.

“This place is a cornerstone for Hawkins,” he had grumbled. “I ain’t gonna let it get turned into some new age bullshit rock store or whatever.”

Once you’d gotten the keys, you’d replaced the grime covered floor, fixed the stage up, and gotten the place as clean as possible, while still keeping the character of the hometown dive bar that drew in town regulars and people passing through to Indianapolis.

When Corroded Coffin started gaining popularity, so did the bar. People not only came to see them play when they stopped in during their tour, but they also visited the spot like it was a tourist attraction. Business was great, and was even doing well enough that you don’t even need to act as bartender most nights.

Unless Corroded Coffin was in town.

You watch Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Frankie play their hearts out on your little bar stage like it were any other big time show they’d gotten to play the last two years. Eddie commands the audience’s attention, his deft fingers flying over the neck of the guitar as he sings into the mic, deep voice echoing over the speakers. His eyes find yours as he’s finishing up one of their original songs, and he winks, making you roll your eyes.

The song finishes and Eddie takes a swig of his drink before addressing the crowd. “Alright, last song. Tip your bartenders, assholes.”

The opening chords to Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters float in the air and you smile, leaning into the wall to watch.

So close, no matter how far

Couldn’t be much more from the heart

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters

It’s an interesting song to end the night with. The once rowdy crowd has settled, swaying with the slow tempo. It’s almost hypnotic.

Never opened myself this way

Life is ours, we live it our way

All these words, I don’t just say

And nothing else matters

With a sigh, you push away from the wall and weave your way back to the bar to join your bartenders before the post show rush of orders starts. The back of your neck prickles with the sensation of being watched, and when you round the bar to face the stage, Eddie’s got his gaze focused on you as he sings.

Trust I seek and I find in you

Every day for us something new

Open mind for a different view

And nothing else matters

You twist your ring on your finger out of habit as you hold his stare. He smiles at you as he finishes through the song. When the last chord fades and the crowd cheers, you grin right back.

——

Eddie’s been surrounded by people since he stepped off the stage and he’s finally getting a moment of peace to slip out the back door for a cigarette.

He’s patting his pockets in search of his lighter when a familiar voice asks, “Need a light?”

He nearly drops the cigarette from his lips when you step close to him, holding a lighter that illuminates your face in the otherwise dark and empty alley. He leans forward, pressing the cigarette into the flame and inhaling until it catches.

“Thanks. Seems I’m always losing my lighter,” he comments, staring down at you.

“You’d lose your head if it weren’t attached to your neck, Munson,” you quip, leaning into his space. He laughs, smoke billowing around the two of you, creating a hazy little cocoon of privacy.

He slips a finger into a belt loop, pulling you flush against him. He revels in the little gasp that leaves your lips, in the feel of your hands pressed to his chest. That anticipation of being in your orbit after circling each other all night is making his head spin. Your fingers tangle in the chain around his neck, tugging his neck down until his lips are brushing against yours.

“Heard you didn’t go home with girls from shows,” you tell him. His chest rumbles with a laugh.

“I can always make an exception,” he growls before his lips take yours and you meet his kiss with a groan.

Eddie’s hands slide down your hips before reaching for a handful of your ass, pressing you further against him and making you let out a little gasp. His tongue slips into your mouth to dance with yours and you can feel the hard length of him through his jeans. Your fingers slide from his hair to trail down his chest until you reach his belt buckle.

His hand circles your throat, the cool metal of his rings pressing against the thin skin as he uses the grip to hold you where he wants, to explore the taste of your mouth to his content. You work the belt open until you can pop the fly on his pants, working the zipper down to reach in and palm his hardening cock. He lets out a delicious groan, his head tipping back against the wall. You take the opportunity to trail your lips across his neck, biting at his pulse hard enough that he lets out a hiss.

Satisfied with the state he’s in, you drop to your knees on the rough concrete, working his pants down just enough to be able to reach in and tug his cock out. Hand wrapped around his warm, thick length, you give him a couple of teasing pumps. As he looks down at you, eyes half lidded and dark with lust, he brings a hand to your chin, prying your mouth open and pressing his thumb down on your tongue.

“Christ, sweetheart, look at you,” he says, the gravel of his voice making you clench your thighs together for some semblance of friction against your throbbing core. “How much of my cock do you think I can fit in this pretty mouth of yours, huh?”

“Only one way to find out,” you reply with a wink. He laughs, but the sound is cut off by a rough moan as you wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the crown and humming over the taste of him as it blooms across your tastebuds. His fingers tangle into your hair, tugging roughly as you pull him into your mouth.

When your nose brushes the light trail of hair on his stomach, he bites out a curse. “Fuck, angel, that’s it. Swallow.”

You do as instructed, your throat fighting against the obstruction and making your eyes water as you repress your urge to gag. He pulls his hips back and you take in a deep gulp of air before he plunges back in, taking over the motions and using your mouth for his own pleasure.

“So fucking good,” he says, head tipped back as he revels in the pleasure. Eddie holds your head away from his throbbing cock the next time you pull back and orders, “Open your mouth.”

You do as asked, sticking out your tongue. Eddie leans forward slightly, pinching your cheeks with one hand as spits onto your tongue before roughly pulling you back to working his cock.

“Dirty fucking girl,” he tells you, and your head goes fuzzy at his words. It's a few more rough drags of him in your mouth befores he’s pulling back until just the tip sits in your mouth as wet heat explodes across your tongue. “Swallow it, baby, that’s it.”

You grin up at him and he pulls you up, rotating your bodies so that you’re pressed against the wall. Eddie makes quick work of the fly of your pants, shoving his hand roughly between your bodies and immediately circling your clit, fingers dragging through the wetness he’s caused.

“So fucking wet for a dirty alley blowjob, princess? Such a little slut,” he murmurs against your ear before biting roughly at the sensitive skin just below it, making your back arch and a whimper leave your lips. “Bet you’re gonna come so quick for me, huh?”

You nod, hands wrapping over his shoulders and holding tightly, fingers curling into his worn leather jacket. “I’m gonna–”

“That’s it, fuck, yes, just like that, baby,” he groans as your muscles tighten. He plunges two fingers into you with no warning, and that’s all you need to shatter. He works you through it, thumb circling your clit gently as his fingers pump to the rhythm of your hips working against his hand.

“Jesus,” you mutter. You bring one hand to his neck, trailing it lightly over the chain there until you reach the ring hanging over his heart. “You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Munson.”

“Always a pleasure to serve.” He grins, eyes bright even in the dark alley. “You like the show?”

“Mighty romantic of you to be playing our wedding song like that.”

His fingers toy with the ring on your left hand. A simple silver band he’d placed there two years ago that you haven’t taken off since. “Figured you might like that.”

“I gotta finish up helping with closing. I’ll see you at home?”

“I’ll help you out. I’ve only got three days before we’re back on the road, and I am firmly attaching myself to your hip the whole time,” he says, pushing your hair back from your face, cupping your cheeks reverently. “I love you.”

You go soft against him. “I love you, too.”

It’s tough, being away from him for so many long stretches at a time. But when he’s home, looking at you the way he is, a hand planted on the small of your back as you re-enter the bar, you can’t help but think - nothing else matters.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #no use of y/n #stranger things #rockstar eddie munson #no angst #ao3 author #eddie munson x female reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #idiots in love

223 notes · View notes

thegayhimbo · 6 months

Text

Stranger Things Flight of Icarus Review

If you haven’t yet, be sure to check out my other Stranger Things Reviews. Like, Reblog, and let me know what your thoughts are regarding the show or the upcoming season! :)

Stranger Things Comics/Graphic Novels:

Stranger Things Six

Stranger Things Halloween Special

Stranger Things The Other Side

Stranger Things Zombie Boys

Stranger Things The Bully

Stranger Things Winter Special

Stranger Things Tomb of Ybwen

Stranger Things Into The Fire

Stranger Things Science Camp

Stranger Things “The Game Master” and “Erica’s Quest”

Stranger Things and Dungeons and Dragons

Stranger Things Kamchatka

Stranger Things Erica The Great

Stranger Things “Creature Feature” and “Summer Special”

Stranger Things Tie-In Books:

Stranger Things Suspicious Minds

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 1 of 3)

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 2 of 3)

Stranger Things Runaway Max (Part 3 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 1 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 2 of 3)

Stranger Things Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Part 3 of 3)

Stranger Things Rebel Robin Book and Podcast (Part 1 of 2)

Stranger Things Rebel Robin Book and Podcast (Part 2 of 2)

Stranger Things Hawkins Horrors Review

Stranger Things Episode Reviews:

The Vanishing of Will Byers (Part 1 of 2)

The Vanishing of Will Byers (Part 2 of 2)

Synopsis: Hawkins, Indiana: For most, it’s simply another idyllic, manicured all-American town. But for Eddie Munson, it’s like living in a perpetual Tomb of Horrors. Luckily, he has only a few more months to survive at Hawkins High. And what is senior year, really, but killing time between Dungeons & Dragons sessions with the Hellfire Club and gigs with his band, Corroded Coffin? At the worst dive bar in town, Eddie meets Paige, someone who has pulled off a freaking miracle. She escaped Hawkins and built a wickedly cool life for herself working for a record producer in Los Angeles. Not only is she the definition of a badass—with killer taste in music—but she might also be the only person who actually appreciates Eddie as the bard he is instead of as the devil incarnate. But the best thing? She’s offering him a chance to make something of himself, and all he needs to do is get her a demo tape of Corroded Coffin’s best songs. Just one problem: Recording costs money. Money Eddie doesn’t have. But he’s willing to do whatever it takes, even if that means relying on his dad. Al Munson has just stumbled back into Eddie’s life with another dubious scheme up his sleeve, and yet Eddie knows this is his only option to make enough dough in enough time. It’s a risk, but if it pays off he will finally have a one-way ticket out of Hawkins. Eddie can feel it: 1984 is going to be his year.

Observations:

Ordinarily, when I do these reviews, I sum up the synopsis in my own words to convey my experience reading it. This time, I took the synopsis word-for-word from the book cover because I found it unintentionally hilarious and teeth-grinding that the publishers at Random House Worlds would try to bait Stranger Things fans like this. They had to have known most people who bought this book already saw the fourth season and were aware of Eddie's eventual fate. Even if they hadn't seen it, a.) It's pretty much an open spoiler at this point, and b.) You can figure out real quickly from the title (Flight of Icarus) and your basic knowledge of Greek Mythology exactly how this story is going to go. Giving both the audience and Eddie a Hope Spot in thinking things might improve for him was a cruel joke.

I know that prior to this books release, there were fans accusing Netflix of trying to milk Eddie's popularity with the audience despite his eventual fate in season 4. Having finally read the book myself.................it's a little more complicated than that.

Yes, the book does bait the audience with the idea of things getting better for Eddie when we already know that's not going to happen. At the same time though, it wasn't a book devoid of substance. There were themes and character interactions that left a lot to chew on, and might even play an upcoming role in season 5. Just like with Rebel Robin, there were aspects of the book that struck a personal nerve with me because of how they related to what's gone on in my life and what's currently going on in the world right now.

I'll discuss the book in detail here (Spoilers Ahead!) and let you decide for yourselves if this is a book you want to read.

Part 1: Eddie's relationships to other characters

The synopsis covers the majority of the plot. Eddie's in senior year, failing school, and coasting by on the Hellfire Club, his band, and his dead-end job at a bar. Unlike his friend Ronnie, he has no future prospects ahead of him until he encounters a girl from Los Angeles named Paige, who overhears Eddie playing one night and invites him (and Corroded Coffin) to record their music for a studio called WR Records. The hopes are that her boss, Davey, will be impressed enough that he'll invite Eddie and the band to later fly out to Los Angeles for an audition with the executives. Following them recording for Davey, Paige reveals to Eddie that Davey's more impressed with him than his band and only wants him to come out to LA to become a rockstar. However, Eddie still needs the money to make this dream a reality. So when his dad shows up with an illegal job that involves stealing weed from a Kingpin's truck so they can sell it for money, he reluctantly agrees despite knowing things could go wrong.

And just based on where Eddie is by the time season 4 starts, you already know how this is going to turn out.

Eddie on the show was already established as being an outcast who gets blamed for the murders committed by Vecna, but this book further explores that he was the town scapegoat way before any of this happened. Part of it has to do with his low socioeconomic status, part of it has to do with the bad reputation the Munson family has in Hawkins as crooks and lowlifes thanks to the behavior of Eddie's father (who is a loser and a sorry excuse for a dad), part of it has to do with the Hellfire Club and all the pearl-clutching parents did in the 80s about D&D being linked to Satanism (which, as Erica puts it in season 4, was bullshit), and the rest are people in Hawkins projecting their issues onto Eddie. They want to believe the worst in Eddie, and don't care about creating a self-fulfilling prophecy with they way they treat him.

Wayne Munson also gets fleshed-out more in this book, which I appreciate because he's one of the few adult characters on the show that I like. Unlike Al, who is constantly absent from Eddie's life unless he needs something from him, Wayne is a parental figure to Eddie who made sure he was being fed and taken care of when he needed it.

He's also one of the only people who treats Eddie like a person and believes in him when no one else does.

On top of that, Wayne is shrewd and able to put the pieces together just by reading a situation. He's the kind of person who can look at someone and figure out if they're being honest or not. When Al comes back into Eddie's life, he knows Al is up to no good, and he puts together pretty quickly that Eddie is going along with Al's con to get money. He allows Eddie to make his own choices, but he also warns Eddie that he's lying to himself if he thinks this is going to go well for him.

On a semi-related note, the way Wayne is depicted here gives more context behind why he was willing to let Nancy interview him when Eddie went missing after Chrissy's death: Unlike other reporters , who were either gearing up to paint Eddie as the villain before anything was confirmed, or else were trying to get their big break with this story, Wayne could tell Nancy wasn't just there to advance her career. She genuinely had an interest in what happened, and Wayne likely suspected something else (i.e. the death of Barb) was motivating Nancy to look into this case.

Another relationship that gets more context as well is the one between Jason and Eddie. There were hints in the fourth season that these two had a history with one another before Jason wrongly suspected Eddie of killing Chrissy and led the basketball team in hunting him down. This book confirms that history. I will admit I had a headcanon for a while that Jason and Eddie used to be friends before falling out (which is also something Mason Dye joked about), but this book blows that out of the water by revealing they've been enemies since they knew each other. Jason was a part of a jock group led by Tommy Hagan (Steve's former best friend) who bullied students like Gareth who were either outcasts or part of the Hellfire Club. But because Tommy and Jason were valued basketball players at the high school, they were able to get away with their behavior whereas Eddie would get punished simply for trying to help out his friends.

This puts the cafeteria scene between Eddie and Jason in a whole different light: Eddie's disdain for Jason in that moment wasn't because Jason did basketball, but because he knew Jason as a bully and had nothing but contempt for him:

Just like with Lucas on the Line, this book doesn't paint Jason in a good light. Not only is he associating with Tommy (who is just as loathsome as he was in season 1), but the book also hints at the darker, zealot side of his personality that's going to be on display in two years following the events of this book:

Chrissy also makes an appearance, and she's just as nice of a person as she was on the show. She actually intervenes (unsuccessfully) on Gareth's behalf to stop Tommy and Jason from bullying him, and we get to witness the flashback to the talent show when Eddie first encountered Chrissy and she showed him empathy and compassion in a moment when Eddie was feeling vulnerable after his dad didn't show up to watch him perform.

While I'm not an Edissy/Hellcheer shipper, I understand the appeal of that relationship, as well as why the Duffer Brothers later regretted killing off Chrissy when there was more that could have been explored with her character. I'm also deeply sorry Grace Van Dien was harassed by immature Stranger Things fans because she liked the Eddie/Chrissy ship (to the point Joseph Quinn had to speak up in her defense). No actor or actress should ever have to put up with disgusting behavior like that. I wish people in this fandom would grow the hell up already, and stop treating the actors as if they're props to project themselves onto. 😒

We also get to know more about Eddie's parents in this book. Eddie's mom is dead by this point (though her love for music is a big reason why Eddie was inspired to take up guitar) and Eddie's dad is a contender for one of the worst fathers in the series. He isn't as awful as Neil Hargrove, but he makes little to no effort to raise Eddie (to the point Eddie is often fending for himself), is constantly engaging in illegal activities and ending up in trouble with the law, only comes back for Eddie when he needs something from him (something that Eddie is painfully aware of), and straight-up abandons his son to the cops the moment his heist plan lands both of them in trouble and results in a police officer getting shot. He's a selfish man who's good at lying to everyone around him, and even to himself. The sad thing is, because Eddie is so desperate to get out of Hawkins, he willingly believes his dad's plan to get them rich so they can move to LA and fulfill his dream, which makes it more of a gut punch when everything eventually goes downhill.

Given Eddie's death in season 4, I seriously question if his dad is going to show up at all if he ever hears about what happened to his son. Somehow, I doubt it.

The final character with any real significance is Gareth. In this book, he's a freshman who's up-and-coming in the Hellfire Club, and there's a whole subplot dedicated to Eddie helping him to craft a perfect D&D character that resembles who Gareth is rather than having him borrow someone else's character. Also, as noted before, Eddie is one of the few people who defends Gareth from high school bullies, which is why Gareth has a lot of loyalty towards Eddie. I know Gareth became an Ensemble Dark Horse for many fans when Season 4 premiered, and I would be thrilled if he, along with the rest of the Hellfire Club and Corroded Coffin, got significant roles in season 5. Maybe they could team up with the Party to defeat Vecna.

The rest of the new characters are by-the-numbers. Ronnie is Eddie's lifelong friend who has a future at NYU, and they both have a falling out due to disagreements with Eddie's choices. Paige gets into a romantic relationship with Eddie for a while (which also falls apart later), but she isn't really memorable and doesn't stick out the same way that other characters from tie-in materials do (i.e. Mr Hauser from Rebel Robin, Joey Kim from Zombie Boys, etc). Mr. Higgins, the principal who has it out for Eddie, is the embodiment of Mr. Vernon from The Breakfast Club, and his interactions with Eddie are pretty similar to the ones Vernon has with Judd Nelson's character (John Benson) in the movie. Officer Moore is a stereotypical asshole cop who harasses Eddie because he sees him as a future criminal who will grow up to be just like his dad.

There are a few brief cameo's from the main characters: Hopper appears towards the end when Eddie is arrested, and is one of the few people sympathetic to Eddie's plight. Will and Jonathan also make an appearance when Eddie defends Will from jocks who make fun of Will for being "Zombie Boy," gives Will some encouragement about being who he is and embracing his love for D&D, and even offers to sell Jonathan some weed (which is cheeky foreshadowing for Jonathan's drug habit that develops in season 4).

Out of all the interactions with the main characters, the one between Will and Eddie was my favorite. Even though Will never joined Hellfire Club due to moving to Lenora, it's nice seeing these two get to interact and bond over something they love.

So that sums it up for the characters and main story. Let's talk about the main themes:

Part 2: Eddie and "Forced Conformity"

Just like with El in season 4, and even Steve, there's always been this stigma that because Eddie did badly in school, it meant he was dumb. However, unlike El, who struggles to catch up with her peers because of the way Brenner raised her (but is keenly aware of concepts even if she doesn't have the words for them at the time), or Steve who was more interested in chasing popularity at the expense of his grades (but has demonstrated his intelligence and ability to make connections that other people miss), Eddie doesn't put effort into school because he doesn't care to. School and homework doesn't interest him. D&D, Corroded Coffin, playing songs on his guitar, and even the works of J.R.R Tolkien do, which is why he invests more time into those things:

There was a GIF set last year with bits of trivia about Eddie, and something that was noted in it is that Metallica's album Master of Puppets was released on March 3, 1986. Given the night Eddie performs their song "Master of Puppets" in the Upside Down was on March 27, 1986, this means he had less than 3 weeks to learn how to master the song on his guitar. Some fans will probably dismiss this as "lazy writing" (which I notice gets thrown around a lot these days when people don't want to think critically), but I beg to differ. Eddie is invested in music. It speaks to him. That investment, combined with doing something he loves, means he's going to put time and effort into learning the song. I can buy he learned "Master of Puppets" in less than 3 weeks because he's that good of a guitarist, and he was passionate about the song in the same way he's passionate about D&D and Tolkien.

The problem though is those kind of interests aren't considered "acceptable" by the school system, which is more interested in churning out "productive members of society" and punishing those who don't get on board with the program (This is a theme that's also explored in both Rebel Robin and Lucas on the Line). It doesn't help that Hellfire Club, D&D, and the music Eddie loves to play constantly come under fire due to the Satanic Panic at the time, which only causes Eddie's resentment towards Hawkins and his school to fester.

You'd think things would have changed in the 4 decades since this series took place, but given how we're still living in an era of "concerned parents" wanting to ban specific books from being read by kids, or else enforce a conservative viewpoint in schools that prevents any kind of critical thinking, it's fair to say we haven't. In fact, there's an argument that things have gotten worse in recent years.

We can talk all day about the problems with the education system and school curriculum in the United States until the cows come home, but the point is Eddie is aware of the "forced conformity" schools impose on students, and is having none of it. As a result, he's punished for rebelling against the system.

It doesn't help that none of the teachers, nor Mr. Higgins, are remotely interested in trying to reach out to Eddie. They have decided in their minds that Eddie is a waste of space, and are either condescending or dismissive towards him. Even Robin, Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will had teachers like Mr. Clarke or Mr. Hauser who were interested in bringing the best out of their students. Eddie has been written off as a lost cause, and aside from his uncle Wayne (who's limited in what he can do for Eddie), no other adults believe in him. That just makes his eventual death later on harder to stomach.

I hate teachers and school authorities like Mr. Higgins. I get they have to put up with a lot of crap, both from kids and from the stress their jobs can bring, but I have no respect for teachers who either go to the lengths of bullying their students, or come up with preconceived notions about a student and then unfairly project that onto them so they can feel justified in treating them with contempt.

I had two teachers like this when I was growing up: One of them was from fifth grade. The second was my English Teacher from my senior year of High School.

The former was a straight-up bully who had a reputation for making kids cry (I was one of them) and was a Bitch in every sense of the word. I do not have good memories of her class, and I know several students who had their lives impacted by her for the worst: One of them was someone I went to the same church with whose mom later pulled him out to be home-schooled because he was frequently targeted by that teacher. The second was a former friend who had a rough time in her class, and later forfeited going to college entirely (and now works in retail) because of the impact she left on her. I make no secret that I DON'T miss her, and I hope she's no longer teaching.

As for my English Teacher, she was a condescending twat. She presented herself as an expert in literature, but I later found out that A LOT of her so-called "discussions" and "lessons" were taken straight from SparkNotes. I remember her going out of her way to publicly humiliate me in front of the class because I did a presentation that she didn't like, and then she later got patronizing with me over a different assignment several months later, saying she could see how I was struggling and then said "Allow me to give you some advice: Try harder." This was when I was also juggling 4 other AP classes and a Spanish class, along with my extracurricular activities, so this wasn't like I was half-assing my work. Once again, I was not the only person she treated like is. Multiple students despised her, and there was even a rumor for a while that she was a misandrist, which is why she treated the girls better than the boys. I can't confirm if this was true, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was. My brother (who's one of the smartest people I know) was fully aware of her reputation prior to his senior year, and specifically took a different English class just to avoid her. I still maintain that was the best decision he ever made.

I should briefly mention that, despite the two examples I just listed, I had some wonderful teachers growing up. Ones that not only encouraged me, but made their classes engaging to the point that I took an interest in topics I hadn't before. The entire reason I later pursued a degree in History is BECAUSE of my teachers in High School.

Regardless of whether people want to admit it, teachers are some of the most important people next to parents in a kid's life. They can either be the ones to elevate a student and set them on a good path, or they can be the ones to tear them down and dismiss them as a lost cause. It's a big reason I feel strongly about who teaches in schools and how our education system is structured, and why I get angry whenever teachers or school authorities either abuse their power, are apathetic about their jobs and their students, or else project their issues onto kids. I'm not saying there aren't kids out there without major behavioral problems that need to be dealt with (I literally had one such kid yell "Fuck You" at me two weeks ago from a speeding truck for no discernible reason, so I'm not advocating that all kids are sweet angels), but it infuriates me to see characters like Mr. Higgins who are smug in their belief that they have teens like Eddie figured out, and don't want to hear anything that contradicts that. People like that shouldn't be teaching in schools, period.

Part 3: The Evils of Society

Back in 2005, there was a horror movie called Chaos that was released, which got negative reviews and a scathing response from film critic Roger Ebert, who proceeded to call the movie "ugly, nihilistic, and cruel." The film's writer and director didn't take this well, and posted a letter to the Chicago-Sun Times where he condescendingly told Ebert that the movie was supposed to be ugly, nihilistic, and cruel as a way of conveying what evil was like in the 21st century, and smugly asked Ebert if he preferred the movie was sanitized of violence. Ebert later responded in a very classy and intelligent manner, where he not only called out the director for his sanctimoniousness, but also deconstructed his whole argument of depicting evil in a movie with no meaningful point or catharsis:

"I believe evil can win in fiction, as it often does in real life. But I prefer that the artist express an attitude toward that evil. It is not enough to record it; what do you think and feel about it? Your attitude is as detached as your hero's."

"Your real purpose in making "Chaos," I suspect, was not to educate, but to create a scandal that would draw an audience. There's always money to be made by going further and being more shocking. Sometimes there is also art to be found in that direction, but not this time. That's because your film creates a closed system in which any alternative outcome is excluded; it is like a movie of a man falling to his death, which can have no developments except that he continues to fall, and no ending except that he dies. Pre-destination may be useful in theology, but as a narrative strategy, it is self-defeating."

I've seen fans who've complained about the direction season 4 took in its tone and it's depiction of bullying and the Satanic Panic, with people complaining about it being "trauma/torture porn," which............I strongly disagree with. Trauma/Torture porn is (as Ebert points out) the kind of thing that has no point beyond indulging in meaningless suffering. Season 4 was dark (probably the darkest season they've done so far), but there was a message the Duffer Brothers were making with it; Not just in depicting how and why bullying becomes a pervasive problem, or how Vecna acts as a metaphor for depression and trauma driving people into despair, but also how the current social systems and attempts to force people to be "normal" cause long-term problems.

Bullies like Angela and Jason didn't suddenly decide to become awful overnight. Their behavior was enabled, not just by their peers, but by the adults around them who did little to nothing to stop the way they acted. Look at when El gets publicly humiliated at Rink-O-Mania by Angela and her friends, and how the adults there either participated with the other bystanders in it, or did absolutely nothing to stop what was happening to El (yet were conveniently available for Angela's benefit when El smashed Angela's face in with a roller-skate). Look at how Jason was able to turn a room of adults into a lynch mob to go after kids who were a part of the Hellfire Club by appealing to their fear of the Satanic Panic, as well as their fear of all the terrible things that had been happening in Hawkins.

Adults play a major role in whether kids become spoiled, entitled brats, and that was absolutely the case with Angela. As for Jason, he was a star basketball player who made Hawkins High look good, which is why Mr. Higgins and other teachers always looked the other way at his behavior (as depicted in both this book and Lucas on the Line). It's also why both Angela and Jason felt justified in their awful behavior: Angela was able to convince herself that El had snitched when she hadn't, and therefore deserved to be punished for it. And when El finally had enough and lashed out, Angela twisted the narrative in her head to make it out like she was the innocent victim and El was the bully. Same thing with Jason in regards to how he treats Eddie: Jason sees himself as the perfect "All American Boy" and Eddie as the freak who may one day become a criminal and gives Hawkins a bad name. And while the deaths of Chrissy and Patrick (combined with witnessing how Patrick died which he chalked up to Eddie being in league with Satan) played a major role in Jason's actions, he already had preconceived notions about Eddie without truly getting to know him first. There's an argument to be had that, even without Chrissy's death, he would have looked for any reason to go after Eddie if he felt justified in doing so.

Even isolated areas like Hawkins Lab weren't exempt from this: Dr. Brenner specifically fostered a culture among the special kids where he would put them at odds with one another to fight for his approval, and allowed El to be viciously bullied by Two and the others in the hopes it would unlock her potential and get him the results he wanted. Brenner established the institution where El grew up in, and was the main person who benefited from it. Two was a vicious bully similar to Angela, but the reason he became that is because Brenner and his cronies enabled his behavior (only punishing him as a means of building up resentment among the other kids towards El and making her more of an outcast as part of his plans).

Likewise, there's an interesting parallel between Eddie and Vecna: Both are "outcasts" whom society tried to force to be "normal." However, while Eddie still maintained compassion and empathy for others, as well as making it his mission to look out for other outcasts like Mike, Dustin, and Lucas so their lives wouldn't be miserable, Vecna internalized the rage and resentment of "performing in a silly terrible play, day after day" until it consumed him and turned him into the monster everyone feared. Now he intends to destroy everything and everyone so he can create the world he wants.

It's the Harvey Dent quote from The Dark Knight:

Eddie, despite being treated badly for most of his life, died as a hero, protecting those he cared about. Vecna lived to become the villain, and has abandoned his humanity in pursuit of his goals.

Tying this all back to Roger Ebert's letter: While Season 4 may have been dark, there was meaning to be found in the darkness: The season hit on the theme that, in spite of how Hawkins looks like a perfect suburban neighborhood, there's a lot of rot underneath, and NOT just from the Upside Down. There's an inherent bigotry in the town (and others like it, such as Lenora), of institutions trying to mold students and teachers into "productive members of society" at the cost of their happiness and well being, of punishing anything that's considered abnormal or against the status quo, of how ostracizing "outcasts" can lead to a self-fulfilling prophecy where the person either becomes the monster (Vecna) or is scapegoated and can never escape those stigmas no matter how hard they try (Eddie).

The Duffer Brothers aren't apathetic in their attitude about how they depict characters and themes on the show. If anything, they care deeply. It's why they wrote the character of Eddie in the first place, and based him off of Damien Echols, one of the West Memphis Three who was wrongfully convicted in 1994 of the murder of three boys in Arkansas, with a lot of bias directed at them due to the three of them being "delinquents" (as well as how the police pressured them into giving false confessions), which resulted in their lives getting ruined. Likewise on the show, Eddie is accused of killing Chrissy when he didn't (simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time), and his life got destroyed because of it. Even if he was a delinquent with his own personal issues, he didn't deserve what happened to him. Neither did Damien Echols. Society failed both of them, and allowed the true killers to go unpunished.

There are a lot of problems in our society today that have carried over from the 80s: From cultures that enable bullies and punish their victims, to attempts to control what kids learn in schools and how they should act, to bigotry and biases that aren't just rooted in people but in the institutions and laws that uphold the social structure, to people like Jason who take the law into their own hands regardless of the collateral damage it will cause, to government corruption, to people dehumanizing others because it's more important for them to be right over being nice, and so on. Stranger Things may be a love letter to the 80s, but it does not shy away from deconstructing the uglier aspects of that decade, and conveying how some of those issues had carried over into today's culture.

Final Thoughts:

Overall, this book is a mixed bag. It gives interesting details about Eddie and his life, and provides better context for certain scenes in season 4. Given that Caitlin Schneiderhan (the author of the book) had talks with the Duffer Brothers and other Stranger Things writers prior to penning this, it's likely this book can be considered canon. It's also a book that inspires discussion (as you can tell from what I've written), which is always a plus.

However, if you're a fan of Eddie, and you were upset over his death, this book isn't going to give you any catharsis. Unlike others, I'm not going to claim it's milking off of Eddie's popularity. At the same time though, it is hard to read when it teases that things might get better for Eddie and you already know what Eddie's fate is going to be.

In other words, you have to decide for yourself if this is a book you want to read. I hope my synopsis and this review gives some idea of what to expect.

49 notes · View notes