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lovebugism · 8 months

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for fictober could I request from the 50 autumnal prompts ‘when he wears THAT flannel’ with Eddie please?

we were so robbed of Eddie all boyfriend in soft cosy clothes. R wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of him and he’d love it come autumn when it’s all he wears.

ugh imagine him in like thick baggy sweaters and when he reaches up it just exposes a bit of tummy 😍 I’m like a Victorian seeing ankles

love you xoxo

hi angel! idk how i managed to make this angsty, but alas! hope you like it :D

summary: you and eddie try to get used to life post-vecna but it's not nearly as easy as you thought it'd be (post st4, established relationship, wee bit of angst tw for mentions of death and scars, 1.2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s pretty much recovered by mid-fall.

Not totally. But mostly.

You think getting away from Hawkins helped the most — moving out of the city and settling further in the green. Even though everyone back home eventually understood that Eddie wasn’t the psycho-killing freak they made him out to be, things had changed far too much to ever go back to normal again.

Something’s break beyond repair. Something’s just can’t be fixed.

Not your Eddie, though. Eddie’s perfect. Damn near it, anyway, considering the circumstances.

He’s still got the nightmares and the phantom pains — even though he tells you he doesn’t. But he’s graduated now and helping Wayne at the car shop whenever he can. He’s taking the newfound normalcy in stride, spending early autumn with you and making you hot chocolate like nothing ever happened.

“You like marshmallows in your cocoa, right?” he calls from the kitchen, though he sounds like he’s talking mostly to himself.

You hear him, but you forget to answer. Your brain all but short circuits at how pretty he looks.

You eye him from the couch while he bustles in the kitchen, and gutwrenching existentialism knocks the wind from your lungs like a fist to the stomach.

You weren’t supposed to have Eddie again. You weren’t supposed to share a home like you always dreamed about, and he wasn’t supposed to make you hot cocoa or keep you warm when autumn got too bitter.

A season or more ago, you were saying your goodbyes while he bled out in an alternate dimension.

You haven’t yet forgotten how pale his skin had gotten or how glassy his chocolate eyes grew as the life spilled from the weeping bites on his stomach. The feeling of his blood, slimy on your hands and drenching your clothes, hasn’t yet left you. The red-hot blood in the unnatural navy blue cold still lives in your head.

But it’s only there. In your head.

And Eddie’s right in front of you — wild hair, baggy pajama pants, and all. You can smell the musk of his cologne and the floral of his shampoo. He’s real enough to touch.

He’s real.

The realization hits you every day, all the time. It wells from your chest up into your throat and makes you feel like crying. Most people don’t get to say goodbye to their soulmate and eat Wednesday morning breakfast with them months later.

You’ve got so much gratitude inside you, bursting like golden rays of sunshine, that you don’t know what to do with it all.

“Babe?” he calls again when you don’t answer. “Did you hear me?”

He pokes his head in the doorway, and your eyes go wide. “Huh? What?” you stammer, shaking your head to jerk yourself out of your stupor.

Eddie laughs, high and boyish. It sounds like heaven, and it pierces your heart. Six months ago, you never thought you’d hear it again. “I asked if you wanted marshmallows, weirdo.”

You nod rapidly and ramble an answer. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Thank you.”

“O-kay,” Eddie lilts, though his voice wavers with confusion. His grin widens and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t ask why you’re acting so suddenly strange.

You wonder if he’s used to it by now. You wonder if he knows when you go quiet that you’re remembering that a part of you nearly died.

He returns to the kitchen and reaches for the upper cupboard. A sliver of his milky white tummy peeks from beneath his flannel. You can see the bites from here. They’re scarred over now, dark red and light pink and thunder-strike purple. It almost jars you how healed they look. The wounds are still fresh and weeping whenever you close your eyes.

Eddie comes in from the living room, balancing two mugs in his hands rather carefully because he’s filled them to the brim. He’s got his usual ceramic Campbell’s Tomato Soup cup in one hand and your sleeping Snoopy in the other. The innate domesticity makes your stomach whirl.

“You okay?” the boy wonders with pinched brows when he hands you your cocoa.

You nod with glittering eyes, mustering a faint smile up at him. The mug warms your chilled, trembling hands.

“Mm-hmm… Why?” you question, though you’re more than aware of why.

Eddie’s got a knack for knowing how you’re feeling before you’ve even hinted at it. You think he might’ve got mind-reading powers when you were in the Upside Down.

“I don’t know. You just looked a little… far away, I guess.”

“Just missed you,” you confess with a bright, innocent gaze.

Eddie snorts as he rounds the couch to sit next to you. “While I was in the kitchen ten feet away?”

“Yeah. ’S way too far.”

“Well, remind me to carry you with me wherever I go, then.”

You know he’s joking, but you beam anyway. You don’t want to be anywhere that he isn’t. You don’t want him to go where you can’t follow.

Eddie takes a sip and smiles at your smiling. His grin is crooked and rosy and lined with whipped cream. He leans in to kiss you with it.

You pull back from him, just far enough to wipe the melted sugar off with the pad of your thumb. You give him a smacking peck a second later.

With a kissed grin, the boy leans back against the couch with his arm sprawled along the back of it. You curl into his side like his own personal puzzle piece, nestling your mug between your bodies with one hand and settling your free one on his stomach.

Your fingers seem to gravitate beneath his fuzzy flannel without you having to think twice about it.

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, either. His attention is consumed by the television — a Scooby Doo re-run he’s probably seen a thousand times. His chuckle rumbles against your cheek. You laugh along with him, made content by the sound of his boyish delight.

Your fingers dance through the fuzz of his happy trail, then settle on something softer.

The marred skin of his warm tummy feels like silk. Before you realize what you’re touching, the boy beneath you jolts.

You nearly spill your cooling cocoa when you freeze alongside him. You part from Eddie with a gaping gaze, wide eyes darting over every inch of his face. You’re frightened that you’ve hurt him, but his pink grin only widens.

“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” you blurt. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Eddie turns to you, then. His features are blurry with sleep, and they twist with confusion at your misplaced concern.

“No,” he answers with the shake of his head. The softened ends of his chocolate curls brush your cheek. A laugh sputters from his mouth. “It just tickled, babe. It’s fine.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wavers on the way out, but you manage a trembling smile anyway. “Oh. Okay,” you hum, breathless.

“Yeah. ’S okay,” Eddie murmurs softly back, wrapping his pale arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and lingers there. “I’m okay,” he whispers into your hair.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

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kairoot · 6 months

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❅ — ww. day 15: sjy. ✦ ₊˚

day fifteen: ❝ making up with jake on christmas eve ❞

⟢ pairing : jake x reader➖ genre : tiny bit angsty, fluff ➖ requested : no ➖ warnings : none really, being mad at jake but you make up in the end

walking into the warm walls of home, jake’s cheeks were painted pink from the cold.

you heard the door close, figuring it was him. he began pulling his coat off himself before you appeared in front of him, grabbing the wet material from his hands to place it elsewhere for the time being.

he watched you move around in silence, eventually coming over to take his hand.

he was actually confused, seeing as the both of you had had a big disagreement only a few hours before.

but he wasn’t complaining. he loved when you took care of him. even if it meant he’d be getting a little bit of silent treatment.

you guided jake over to the couch, leading him to take a seat while you went off to the kitchen.

the hot cocoa you made for him had finished in time, so you poured it into a mug, being careful of the steaming liquid.

you wrapped the mug with a piece of fabric, hoping it would protect jake‘s hands from the heat.

after bringing it to the living room, he took it from your hands, giving you a quiet ‘thank you’.

he took a small sip, humming at the warmth of the beverage.

it was silent for a bit before he spoke.

“..a-are you still mad?” his eyes were wide and sparkly, unintentionally giving you his signature puppy look.

“no, jaeyun. just.. thinking.”

he hated when you used his real name but he knew you only did that when you were serious.

“‘m sorry, babe. really.”

“me too. i’m sorry.”

you continued to pout, bringing yourself to hug jake. your arms wrapped around his neck as he tightly embraced you.

he whispered apologies into your hair, kissing the side of your head.

“let’s not fight anymore, okay?”

“‘kay.” you responded quietly.

“merry christmas, jake.”

“merry christmas, baby.”

❅ ❅ ❅

milan’s note: i’ll try to get the rest of my missing chapters posted before the 25th :(

PERM. TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynisimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @m1ko-xu @keiipopped (message or comment to be added)

WW. TAGLIST: @keiipopped (message or comment to be added)

winter wonderland masterlist

#— 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 ❅ 𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐭 #kairoot #enhypen #jake enhypen #jake sim #enhypen imagines #enha #enhypen jake #enhypen scenarios #enhypen reactions #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction

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xxchaosjojoxx · 19 days

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Thank you so much 😭😭 I just really need Sanji to hold me tight in his arms, rock me back and forth gently while whispering praise and comforting words. Some of that "You've done so well." And "I've got you, let me take care of you" would be MWUAH yim yum. You don't even have to write this if u don't wanna, I just need more Sanji comfort 😭🙏

I udnerstand you 100%. We all need a Sanjia who will comfort us <3 I hope you don't mind that it is pretty short. Have an amazign day and feel all of my love and hugs

I’m here for you (Sanji x reader)

It was a long day. You helped your boyfriend Sanji with the dishes and cleaned the kitchen afterwards. Even though he hates seeing you touch the dirty dishes with your angelic hands. After that you went shopping with Nami and Robin for the whole afternoon. You even helped repair General Franky with Franky and Usopp. After the end of the day you retreat towards your shared bedroom with Nami and Robin. As soon as you hit the bed your body felt shore and you felt empty and lonely. This day was fun and exciting. You love spending time with your friends. Living your life with such amazing friends that are more family like anything else and having an adorable boyfriend is a dream come true. So why do you feel so down lately?

Sleep didn’t help you at all, you were alone in your shared bedroom and hiding under the blankets the whole morning. No one disturbed you. until you heard a soft knock on your door. You didn't want any company but saying “Leave me alone” was not an option either. Without saying anything you heard the door open, followed by footsteps. You heard that something was laid down on your nightstand but refused to leave your fortress of blankets. A hand was placed on your head and a soothing voice soon followed. “You wanna talk about it, my love?” You crawled back to the surface, looking at the face of your handsome boyfriend. You shrugged your shoulders while looking at your nightstand. Sanji prepared your comfort food and hot cocoa. Sanji took off his shoes and was lying behind you. He snuggled in bed with you, holding you tight in his arms while he rocks you back and forth gently. You turned around so you could cuddle closer into his chest while closing your eyes. Sanji was rubbing your back while whispering towards you. “It’s ok. You’ve done well. I’ve got you now.” You wanted to cry. It was comfortable and you felt safe. You didn’t deserve someone like him. “Hey Y/N. Let me take care of you, kay?” He softly said and planted a kiss on your forehead. You nodded slightly, sniffed a little. He was still rocking you forth and back, praising you for being you. You both fell asleep after a few more minutes. Having someone by your side like that, you didn’t even need words. Even if you feel lonely or just sad, you remember that you have people around you, caring for you and loving you the way you are.

#one piece #one piece x reader #x reader #fluff #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji #op sanji

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asherbakugou · 1 month

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When You Become Friends | He Falls For You

Jiang Kai | Kai Kalama

Kai impatiently tapped his foot, waiting for Reader to emerge from the doors of Ninjago City College. His amber eyes scanned every person who came out from the doors until he saw her.

They were wearing all red, which made him smirk as a blush colored his cheeks, with black heels and pants to tie the outfit together. It took Reader a second to find him across the street and for her to begin to make her way through the crowd.

"I'm surprised you actually waited," Reader mused, lips twitching upwards.

"How could I not escort such a lovely person home?" Kai asked, winking as Reader shook their head.

"Flirt."

"Only for you."

Reader did not know how true that was, did not know that Kai had completely stopped flirting with other girls even when she wasn't there.

Rolling their eyes, Reader turned and began to walk, leaving Kai to stride after her own long strides. Grinning smugly, he dropped an arm over their shoulder, eyeing them nervously from the corner of his eye to see if they were okay with it.

When his arm was left to rest upon her shoulders his smile grew as he held himself taller.

At their house, they sat with glasses of wine and chatted about their respective days.

The entire time Kai could barely keep his eyes off of her, listening intently though his mind wandered everytime he looked to her lips. Their voice was gentle, calm, the soft melody of light rain and sunshine shining through the clouds. When it was his turn to talk, Reader gave him their full attention, asking questions when things confused her.

He was falling for her. Not just her looks, but her.

Zane Julien

Zane smiled gently when he saw Reader practically bouncing towards him, satchel swinging with their movements.

"Zane!" Reader called, throwing her arms around his neck in a quick hug. When she pulled back, Zane privately wished she hadn't.

She had to tilt her head up a little bit to be able to look him in the eyes and it always set his wires alight. "It is good to see you again, Reader."

"It's good to see you too. So, where too today?"

"Well, a new exhibit opened at the museum about the prehistoric animals of Ninjago. I believed it would be something that interests you, but if not–"

"I'd love to go!" Reader blurted out, shrinking back into herself when some strangers looked at her wierdly. "Sorry. But I'd love to go. Come on."

Grabbing onto his wrist she tugged and he allowed himself to be led as she happily gave out every piece of information she had on prehistoric animals, which was a surprising amount.

While normally Zane would have cut off anyone else to remind them that he was a Nindroid, and as such, knew such things but coming from her . . . It was far more interesting hearing it from her than pulling up the information on his database. The rest of the day, Zane was hesitant to call it a date, he watched as Reader bounced around from display to display to take pictures and read the little plaque's full of information.

He adored the way her eyes lit up as her mind ran with hundreds of ideas for her art. He was falling for her, her mind, her creativity, everything.

Cole Brookstone

Cole sat at one of the tables of Fairy Tale, waiting for Reader to finish up the last little bit of organization for the next day of work. Smiling, Reader emerged, sitting across from Cole and pushing over a cup of hot cocoa for him.

In their own hands was a London Fog, their personal favorite.

"So how was the store today?" Cole asked, leaning forward a little.

"It was good. Miya's getting more confident in herself, even dealt with a customer before they could get too loud and rowdy," Reader said, waving a hand.

"I'm glad she's settling in well."

"She still can't believe that the Earth Ninja comes to visit, sometimes just to see lil' ol' me," Reader teased, voice low and pleasently husky making Cole swallow. Their gaze was lidded but focused, exhaustion showing.

"Well, I come for the cake too."

Reader barked out a laugh, shaking their head. "You should've seen her face when you devoured a full cake in less than 5 minutes. Oh, she came running back to tell me and I thought somethin' was wrong with how afraid she looked. I come out and its just you, devouring a cake in one sitting."

Cole vividly remembered that interaction and rolled his eyes affectionately as his cheeks colored.

"No need to be embarresed, Cole," Reader soothed, reaching to pat his hand. "It was funny, and not in a bad way."

Cole felt his grin grow. Reader was attentive and so direct that they rarely let misunderstandings last, and they were constantly checking on those around.

"Meh, I've had worse."

"Worse?" Reader raised an eyebrow but did not pry, though they were curious. Cole didn't mind and happily dove into one of the many stories he had.

Reader watched him so softly that he could practically feel himself melting. He was falling for the person who had no problem telling him the truth, never letting him fall into his own thoughts.

Jay Walker

Jay bounced in place as the line to the rollercoaster moved slowly forward. Reader, on the other hand, groaned, bored from having to wait in line so long when all she wanted to do was get on the rollercoaster.

"So, how'd Lloyd's new engine come out?" Jay asked, still bouncing on his toes.

Reader grinned, happy to talk about her baby, "Well, Nya came to pick it up last week so Lloyd could test it, and the video she sent . . . Dragons! It was going so fast, and the turns he made were so smooth! I was so proud of my baby!"

"Congrats! I wish I could've seen it," Jay complained, genuinly a little sad that he hadn't.

"Well, I've always got new projects and I wouldn't mind a test partner," Reader offered, grinning. Jay lit up in delight.

"You're kidding!"

"No way! Why would I kid about that?!"

"How many in your party?" The lady at the gate asked, looking bored to tears.

"Two," Jay answered, so she pointed to the first row.

Trying to hide their twin squeals of excitement they both bounded towards the front row, bouncing together as they waited for the next coaster to come in.

"Oh, this coaster is supposed to be the fastest and largest in Ninjago," Reader said, spitting out fact after fact that Jay was quick to build on.

"Yeah, they replaced the old track cause it got less popular."

Climbing in, the bar was pressed down over them until they were firmly wedged inside.

Jay happened to glance over at Reader, whose cheeks were flushed from excitement, eyes wide in anticipation, and could his heart stutter as his entire face went bright red. He didn't know he could fall for anyone again, especially after Nya.

But looking at Reader, who always let him be himself, instead of scolding him for being innapropriate at times of crisis, he knew he was falling for her. Falling for her looks, her quick wit, and her humor.

Lloyd Garmadon

Lloyd couldn't stop his eyes from flickering over Reader, whose legs were thrown into his lap as she read a comic. He'd hesitantly rested a hand on her calf but she hadn't reacted in any way, content to flick through the comic in her hands.

Unfortunately he hadn't been able to focus on his comic, too focused on how pretty Reader looked sparawled on the couch of their tiny apartment with the sun shining around them like a halo.

"You know, if you didn't want to read your comic, why'd you suggest we read," Reader teased, peering over her comic at him. He sputtered, face growing red as her smile grew bigger. Unable to keep it in any longer she busted out laughing, dropping her comic onto the coffee table. "I'm kidding, sweets."

Sweets. A nickname that she had begun using after watching him inhale a bag of gummy bears in less than 2 minutes. Everytime it rolled off her tongue, he could feel his cheeks heat up.

"Well, I didn't know what else you'd wanna do."

"Well . . ." Reader glanced to the side, pursing her lips in thought. "We could watch a scary movie."

"A scary movie? Hehe, good luck finding one that will scare me," Lloyd said, poofing out his chest. "I've seen all the spooky and scary in real life, nothing'll scare me."

The wide grin probably should have made him nervous but it just made his heart pound. Swinging her legs off the couch she headed over to her bookcase full of movies, searching for a specific dvd.

Annabelle.

An hour later when he was practically tucked into her side as he stared at the screen in fear, he couldn't even be dissapointed in himself. Reader had happily invited him to cuddle, so now she was tucked against his side, head on his shoulder as his head rested on hers.

Reader had, of course, laughed at him but her teasing had gone no further, simply offering him comfort. She'd even offered to change the movie but he didn't want to lose any more dignity than he already had.

Not that Reader would see him less. But he wanted to impress the girl who'd begun tugging at his heart just by smiling at him.

Morro

Morro quietly stepping into the bakery, finding Reader waiting for him already. Her gaze was on the same spot it always managed to fall on. The spot where Anya had been shot just over a month ago, losing her life in an effort to get away.

"Reader," Morro murmured, grabbing her by the shoulder to escort her out. Since the incident, Morro had felt indebted in a sense to at least check up on the girl who witnessed the murder of her coworker and friend, but it had grown into a friendship. Somehow.

"Sorry," She whispered, leaning into him slightly. Morro hummed, keeping an arm around her shoulders in comfort.

"How's your week been?"

"Difficult. I think I'm gonna switch to a new therapist," Reader admitted, glancing up at him.

Morro frowned, "Why?"

"He's just . . . He makes me uncomfortable and-and I know that they're going too but I can't . . ."

"If he does anything," Morro rasped, the nearby winds picking up in a quick demonstration that made Reader smile.

"I know. You'll kick his ass," Reader giggled, leaning up to press a sweet kiss against his cheek. Morro turned his head away a bit to hide the flush of his face.

Since they'd begun hanging out, Morro had learned how physically affectionate she was, something he'd never had any experience with.

"Come on," Morro grumbled, disguising the warmth he felt at the affection. "Ice cream place or bookstore?"

"Ice cream, then bookstore?"

Snorting, Morro nodded.

Giggling Reader happily picked up the pace, excited by the prospect of ice cream and books. Morro couldn't help but watch Reader softly, not even realizing how his face softened.

Since he'd gone through the Rift he'd struggled with touch of any kind unless he was fighting but when it was Reader the touch felt . . . comforting. Plus she understood bounderies and could read him surprisingly well, so she always seemed to know when she could and could not touch him.

For the past week anytime he thought of her, her snile, her laugh, her eyes, his heart would jump. It had taken him days to truly understand what he was feeling. Morro was falling for Reader, quickly and badly.

#Ninjago #kai smith x reader #kai smith #zane julien x reader #zane julien #cole brookstone x reader #cole brookstone #jay walker x reader #jay walker #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd garmadon #morro x reader #ninjago morro #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago headcanons

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ariseur · 3 months

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THE ROCK IS BACK‼️‼️‼️ And has brought you… Cloud Strife x Baker!reader. Imagine teaching him how to bake and he’s just standing there like “huh?” After you just reread him the instructions for the millionth time, which results in him being covered in flour.

-🪨

“then you just mix them in like,” you paused as you whisked the thick batter around, cloud noted how your tongue poked out in concentration, “this!”

cloud’s eyebrows furrowed, mako infused eyes flickering between the mixing bowl and you as he cocked his head. you simply grinned at him, hand still mixing the thick cake batter. your hand looked comically small against the big silver bowl.

you had decided to bust out one of your old recipes, chocolate cake with some raspberry mousse on top. simple but definitely one of your favorites. you had offered cloud to try some, even if he wasn’t so much a dessert type person. but then aerith found out. and then tifa. and then biggs. and suddenly—you’re making a lot of chocolate cake. you decided that you underestimated how much help you would need and the duration of time it’d take you to just bake these cakes. so who else to call but your trusty mercenary boyfriend?

“wha—?” with another tilt of his head, cloud watched you curiously as you grabbed his hand, having him hold the whisk while you let out a singsong, “keep it moving!” while you twirled your way to the cupboard and grabbed some cocoa powder along with some various other ingredients.

you giggled as you watched cloud hesitantly stir the mixture, big eyes following you while you walked back up to him and held the ingredients out to him. you beamed at him, “do it just like how i said, ‘kay?”

cloud let out an unsure, “okay.” while you held your hands behind your back and watched as he scooped some cocoa powder out with a tablespoon. mako eyes hesitantly darted between you and the cake batter, unsure if he was doing it right. his worries melted away though—when he saw that your smile never faltered. to be honest, cloud hadn’t been listening to a word you said, only focused on the way your lips moved and how you seemed so sure of what you were talking about.

“i still don’t know what you find fun about this, though. it’s so many..” he trailed off.

“steps?”

“yeah.” was all he said. he watched as you put a hand up, signaling for him to stop as you stepped closer, mixing all the powders and liquids together in one big, chocolate-y mess.

a small silence fell over the two of you as you could feel cloud’s presence behind you, watching each of your movements intently to try and find some sort of meaning behind it. you were doing so many things at once, it was hard to keep track of. a soft smile rested itself on your lips, watching cloud through your peripheral try and lean his head over your shoulder to get a better look.

“have i ever told you how cute i think you are?” you said. your eyes never left the whisk, watching as it created swirls and ripples in the thick chocolate. you heard cloud make a small noise, clearly taken aback as his eyes widened and his posture became stiffer.

“what makes you say that?” he finally asked.

you simply giggled and pointed at the mixture that lay in the bowl below you, “because you put way too much powder in this.” you finally put the whisk down, it making a clank as the metal hit the cool countertop, littered with an assortment of packages containing ingredients.

cloud tipped his head over to get a better look, his face trying its hardest not to redden as he felt your fingertips graze his jaw, softened with the flour that covered them. you were right, he thought, as he saw the clumps of leftover powder that wouldn’t break down. the corners of his mouth quirked downwards as he felt your gaze on him, almost shrinking like a dog that’s been caught red-handed.

“‘s alright, cloud. we can just try again.” you gently guided his gaze towards yours, watching as his eyebrows knitted together once you made eye contact. you rubbed your thumb along his cheekbone, peaceful grin still painted on your face when you looked at him. cloud had wondered how you could be so soft, sometimes. your hand slowly fell, the pad of your thumb making sure to run itself along the entirety of his cheek.

“did you just smear chocolate on my cheek?”

“sshh..” you said, bringing a finger to his lips. you closed your eyes as you took in the moment before you, removing your finger and giving cloud a chance to actually lick his lips and confirm it really was chocolate. it also gave him the chance to grab a pinch of flour from the counter behind you, except instead of a pinch, cloud more so grabbed a handful. and perhaps he dumped it on your head, too.

you gasped, watching as he narrowed his eyes playfully at you. backing away with his hands in a smug surrender motion, before you grabbed a handful and threw it at him, too.

“you’re on!” you shouted, and then began what would soon be referred to as ‘the flour war’.

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urhoneycombwitch · 6 months

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witch of ages, cleft for me [part I]

🍯 honey flavour: Christmas-themed fluff and comfort

🐝 the bees: Eddie x greenwitch!reader, ft. The Gang (special appearance by Max Mayfield herself)

wc: 3.8k

Content warnings: weed mention, cussing, reader is given a nickname (Poppy), fem verbiage/motifs used for reader, r is a witch with a troubled home life, fluff, pov Eddie for part I.

foreword: new series alerrrrrt. self-inserty? MAYHAPS. I’ve endeavored to keep reader neutral enough for general x reader purposes while still givin’ her some flavour. please lmk if I need to update the cw to make things more clear. smut in later chapters planned so MDNI. happy readin’!

Christmas has never been Eddie’s favorite holiday.

When he was a kid, and his mom was still around, sure- he’d do the whole peppermint sticks in cocoa, snowman-making schtick, but that was ‘cuz his mom was his favorite person and, well, shit, he didn’t have any Scrooge-like tendencies back then. He was just a kid.

The lack of holiday cheer came later, settled in around teenage-dom, never quite left. Eddie can count on one hand the number of memorable Christmases he’s had, and this one sure won’t be added to the list.

Wayne had made a valiant effort that morning to distribute the cheer- holiday radio buzzing tinny over the stove while he flipped pancakes for the two of them. Didn’t even grouse at Eddie for taking a premature smoke break. Over breakfast, he’d slid a brown paper-wrapped parcel across the table and said, “Merry Christmas.”

“Wayne,” Eddie teased, slamming a hand in the middle of his chest, syrupy palm sticking to the old band t-shirt he was wearing- “I thought we said no gifts. You’re going soft on me, old man.”

“Old man my ass,” Wayne had muttered, but Eddie was already tearing into the paper.

It was a killer gift. Special edition Tolkein, bound in red leather, gold lettering and vines curling around the sides.

Eddie was stunned into silence as he turned the book over in his hands. Wayned tapped the edge of the chipped mug he held, thoughtfully.

“You survived this year, boy. That’s something to celebrate.”

Clearing his throat that’d gone stuffy with emotion, Eddie flipped through the pages reverently. “Well, shit. I keep up my living streak and you get me a sword replica next year, that what you’re tellin’ me?”

Wayne had chuckled, then risen from the table to ruffle his nephew’s hair. “Don’t push your luck, kid.”

He’d offered to take Eddie along on his Christmas Day Drive (as he’d called it, which was actually just code for Wayne and his fishing buddies getting sloshed on schnapps in some dingy Hawkins living room), but Eddie had declined (assuring Wayne that no, actually, he wasn’t gonna be moping around the house- in fact, Steve’s throwing a party and he’s gonna go).

Which they both knew was code for Eddie staying home and getting high. Wayne took his time getting out the door, shuffling around the kitchen, instructing Eddie to eat something in his absence, finally taking off in that rickety excuse for a pickup just before noon.

Which suited Eddie fine. Really. He was sprawled out on the couch now, arms lax above his head, dozing catlike, thinking about lighting up one of those joints rolling around under his bed. Trying not to think about you.

And sure, yeah, maybe he stayed home ‘cuz he was hoping you’ll call. The holidays are making him sentimental, not pathetic.

‘Kay, maybe a little pathetic.

You’d been over at the trailer last night, curled into his side on the couch while Wayne snoozed in the corner chair, It’s A Wonderful Life playing for no one in particular, when you’d told him quietly that you weren’t gonna be around the next day.

“You mean for Christmas?” He’d asked, rubbing a smooth path up and down your arm. “How come?”

Your fingers plucked a steady rhythm at one of his shirt buttons, head resting on his chest, so all he saw was the crown of your head while you explained. “I mean, I’d rather be here. With you and Wayne. It’s just… my dad asked me to hang out. And he never does, yanno? Least I can do is give my old man a few hours to try and make it up to me.”

Eddie was quiet for a bit. Even though you knew about his turbulent familial life (god knows he’d told you more about it than anyone else in his life- your fault for being such a goddamn good listener), he didn’t think a lecture about how disappointing fathers could be was quite appropriate.

So he’d said “Sure, sweetheart, if that’s what you want,” and he’d kissed the top of your head, breathing in that earthy blend of cardamom and sweet mint that you’d tapped into your skin that morning, and you’d thanked him for understanding and gave him a kiss so soft he could’ve cried.

You looked like you were going to cry, yourself, saying goodbye later that night in the doorway, backlit dreamily with soft streetlamps, arms wrapped tight around your frame to keep out the cold.

He’d kissed you goodbye once, twice, got a little goofy with it and pressed quick manic kisses across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, your eyelids that were scrunched with amusement, as if he was trying to memorize your face with his lips.

“Just one day apart. We can do that, right?” He’d said, holding you at arm’s length, trying to assure himself just as much as you.

Your eyes were misty underneath the rim of your knitted hat, but you’d nodded, hiding the tremble in your bottom lip with a brave tilt to your chin. “Just one day apart.” And with a final kiss, you set off down the snow-covered path, waving a red-mittened hand over your shoulder before getting into your car.

So you weren’t gonna call today, Eddie knew that. He’d have you tomorrow, curled in his lap with that strange herbal tea that you were always trying to get him into, and you’d tell him all about your holiday with your dad that you lived with but barely knew.

Just one day apart. He could deal with that, right?

Eddie groans, scrubbing his hands over his face and turning belly-down into the couch.

The thing is, he’s not the overbearing type. At least, he tries not to be. But when you meet the girl of your dreams under circumstances such as the end of the world, you tend to be a little more on the anxious side of things.

Eddie can’t actually remember the last time you’ve spent more than a few hours at a time apart in the last four months; at first it was you playing nurse, tending to Eddie for weeks after the demobats had fucked him up, rotating from couch to makeshift floor-bed that was probably hell on your back. Not that you’d complained.

Those days were a narcotic-fueled haze in Eddie’s memories; the first week he really only surfaced when he smelled the bergamot wafting from your neck each time you leaned over to change his dressings, or when he heard the gentle tinkling of those delicate flower chain earrings and stacks of thin silver bracelets you wore.

And then your time spent by his side just sort of naturally… evolved, along with your feelings for each other. He’d been crushing since high school on the starry-eyed, quiet little thing that sat behind him in Kaminsky’s class. The fact that you were rumored to be a witch really only encouraged his flirting by the day.

You weren’t so easily enamored with him- not playing hard to get, necessarily, but you never seemed to have time for romance- what with your whole saving the world thing. Information that Eddie was now privy to, after all that Upside Down shit.

Eddie would have happily taken his crush to the grave (nearly did, he has Dustin to thank for dragging his bony ass topside) if it meant keeping things between you both smooth. Because it was smooth, easy, as natural as breathing, being around you. The fact that you made the first move as soon as he was healed up (on this very couch, no less) was a dream come true. You’d basically attacked his mouth, a story he loves to drag up at the most torturous times just to see you light up with embarrassment before he kisses it better.

So now you wear one of his guitar picks on a chain around your neck and he spends his spare change on moody 70s cassettes to stock in his van for the midnight drives he loves to take you on; neither of you want to put a boyfriend/girlfriend label on each other ‘cuz it feels weirdly trite, for the amount of intimacy you’ve got going on.

Belonging, though, that’s a phrase you’ve both used before, to each other. You’re mine. You belong to me. Said sweetly and chastely during backyard BBQ’s at the Harrington house, with possessive fierceness between open-mouthed kisses, whispered cozily under the cover of thin sheets and sprawling nights.

He was your boy, for sure. You were his girl. And fuck’s sake was this day without you dragging its goddamn heels.

Eddie pounds a closed fist into the couch cushion, petulantly, then shoves himself up and off, the metal chains at his hip clinking with the sudden movement. He roots around in his bedside table drawer, then the top of his bureau where you stash your clothes sometimes- clothes that probably still smell like you. If he’s gonna be pathetic, mind as well be really pathetic, right?

Eddie’s just pulling out one of your lacy tanktops with a victorious fist pump when there’s a knock at the front door. If it’s carolers interrupting this pity-party, he’s gonna lose his shit.

But it’s not carolers. It’s Max Mayfield, red braids poking out of a green knit hat that he knows for a fact you made her last winter. She’s holding a blue tin of Danish butter cookies, customary scowl on her freckled face.

“You gonna let me in or make me freeze to death? Don’t think I won’t call child services on you, Munson.”

She ducks under Eddie’s arm, and he lets the door shut behind her with a bang. “Look, Red, Merry Christmas and all that but I’m really not in the mood to-”

Max holds out the tin, bracketed by her fuzzy mittens. “These are for you. My mom’s making me take some ’round to all the neighbors.”

Eddie pops the lid and is mildly surprised to find not the customary butter cookies but a neat stack of gingerbread people, with gumdrops for buttons and chocolate chip eyes peeking out from the wax paper.

He lifts an eyebrow at the girl, who’s dripping melted snow into his carpet, and can’t help but tease. “These look like they took some effort, Red. You treat all your neighbors this nice?”

Max glowers again, crossing her arms best she can against the thick puff of her coat sleeves.

Eddie bites the head off one of the cookies and points the desiccated corpse in her direction. “You want something, huh.”

“No,” Max says, a little too quickly, then sighs, and cranes her neck down the hallway. “Not from you, anyways. Where’s Poppy?”

Eddie flinches a little at the nickname the kids all use for you (an homage to the red lipstick you used to wear, or maybe it was the detention you got for getting caught with a jar of the seeds on school property freshman year, the story changes each time he asks) and drops the partially-eaten cookie back in the box. “She’s not here today.”

“She’s here every day,” Max counters, still looking down the hallway hopefully.

“Trust me, I wish I was lying to you,” Eddie continues, snapping the tin closed and setting it on the kitchen counter. “She’s with her dad for Christmas.”

“Poppy is willingly spending time… with her dad… for Christmas?” Max repeats the information slowly, as if she thinks Eddie is not so bright.

He lets his silence and return scowl do the talking for him. Max stamps in place, knocking more snow onto the carpet, annoyance rolling into uncomfortability. “Uh. Okay. Well… I guess I’ll just… ride my bike to the party across town. In this blizzard,” she tacks on, pointedly.

There’s a beat of silence. Eddie drums his fingers against the countertop. It’s hardly a blizzard, and there’s less than an inch of snow on the ground, but he knows what you’d do, if you were here, which you usually are.

“Goddammit,” Eddie cusses, before snatching his keys off the hook behind Max’s head and stuffing his arms into his thermal flannel, muttering, “If she wasn’t actively making me a better person, you’d be a popsicle, Red.”

___

On the drive to Steve’s, Max pokes around in the dash and complains about the lack of Kate Bush before settling on a Fleetwood Mac tape and shoving it into the deck.

Stevie Nicks croons Rihannon over the speakers, and Eddie thinks maybe he’ll get a few minutes of peace and quiet but no such luck. He’s making a slow turn onto the main road when Max asks, “What’s this?”

Eddie fights the urge to snatch the crushed velvet jewelry box out of Max’s mittened grasp and stares resolutely at the road. “I’m trying not to spin out and kill us in a fiery wreck, kid, would ya put that back where you found it?”

She bumps the dash compartment closed with her knee. “Someone’s testy today. Is it for Poppy?”

“Yes,” Eddie grits out, white-knuckling the wheel. “Christ, Max, you’re like the annoying little sister I never asked for. Would you put it-”

There’s a quiet snick as Max ignores him and opens the box. “C’mon, don’t you want a lady’s opinion?”

“Lady, my ass,” Eddie mutters. It’s pretty quiet in the passenger seat area all of a sudden, and he forces his gaze to stay safely on the snowy road as he asks, “Well?”

“Cute,” Max muses. She lifts the delicate chain from the box, the charm at the end swinging like a pendulum with the movement of the van. “A little on the nose, though, don’tcha think?”

Eddie was afraid of that. But when he saw the tiny poppy in perfect cast silver at a jewelry store on his big city excursion last month, he couldn’t help it. His girl makes him all sorts of mushy.

“Put it back,” he tells Max again, the fight going out of his voice, and she complies, this time, reaching out to pat his shoulder after reassembling the box.

“Don’t worry. Girls go crazy for that cheesy shit. Especially if they’re in love,” she says, sagely, gloved fingers absently playing with the gold heart locket around her own neck.

“Uh huh,” Eddie says, with a pointed grin aimed sideways at the girl.

“Shut up.” Max flushes beet red, then reaches for the volume dial and cranks Stevie up to ten.

___

The Harrington house is a flurry of activity, apparently chosen as the main hub for the Gang and their various extensions. Mrs. Byers chirrups a hello as he passes the kitchen, Nancy waving a wooden spoon in greeting. There’s a cheer from the group of boys in various states of sprawl over a board game on the living room floor when Eddie clomps in, Max practically shoulder-checking him on her way to Lucas’s side.

If anything, this party will be a welcome distraction from the silence that is his trailer without you. Eddie figures he’ll hang around for a bit, help eat up some of Harrington’s fancy holiday food, and dip into his weed reserves (that lacy tanktop of yours on his mind) before the bell tolls six.

After giving a dorky salute to his Hellfire kiddos, Eddie drops into the last available couch cushion: next to Argyle (silk black hair adorned with a pair of reindeer antlers), who turns sleepily and gives him a weed-laced lazy smile.

“Heyyyy, brochacho. Where’s your girl? I still owe her some cold hard cash money for those morels,” Argyle says.

“She isn’t here.” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe this party won’t be a good distraction after all, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t wanna keep bringing you up anyways. “What the hell are morels?”

“Mushrooms!” Jonathan pipes up from the end of the couch. Judging by the red eyes, he’s just as gone as Argyle.

Eddie isn’t judging. Christmas is hell without the help of weed and pretty girls.

“Yeah, dude, mushrooms.” Argyle slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, talking over the raucous noise of the kids engaged in a tense game of Monopoly a few feet away. “She’s a wicked good forager. Better than my mushroom guy back in Cali by a loooong shot.”

“Morels are the ones that look like brains,” Jonathan says, focused on his attempt at a house made of paper money on the coffee table in front of him.

“Brains,” Argyle confirms. This seems to set Jon off in a fit of giggles, and then Argyle starts up, snickering into his closed fist, and the sight is almost enough to get Eddie to crack a smile when Steve Harrington appears in the archway.

“Uh oh,” Jonathan says, practically spasmodic at this point, “His hands are on his hips. That means he’s pissed about something.”

“Would you chuckleheads knock it off?” Steve snaps, hands still set on his hips in prissy little fists when he rounds on Eddie. “And seriously, man, you couldn’t’ve waited until the afterparty to get them stoned?”

“What, you think I did this?” Eddie gasps in faux shock. “I’m real hurt, Stevie, that you think these fine established gentlemen would need my help in getting their hands on good kush.”

This sets the boys on the couch off into conniptions again, this time Dustin barking at them to “Keep it down, assholes, we’re getting cutthroat over here,” and Nancy calls out “Language!” from the kitchen, which has Mike yelling back at her, and Eddie is just starting to enjoy himself when Steve whips the towel previously over his broad shoulder at Eddie’s face.

“If you’re done wreaking havoc here there’s someone on the landline for you,” Steve says, bending down to wipe crumbs from the coffee table.

That wipes the smirk off Eddie’s face. He sits up ramrod straight. “Who?”

“Who do you think?” Steve shoots back, and then shouts at the board game group, “ALL right, which one of you little shits spilled orange soda on the rug?”

There’s a return yell of “LANGUAGE” from the kitchen as Eddie hustles down the hall, the noise of the party fading as he reaches the mounted wall phone. He nearly pulls the cord from its socket in his haste to get the receiver to his ear- “Shit- hello?”

“Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie sags against the wall, letting his head tip back, eyes closed all the better to savor your voice- “Sweetheart. Thank god. I was dyin’ out here. Say my name again, would ya?”

“Eddie,” you laugh, and it’s chiding, but he doesn’t care, too flush with relief at hearing from you.

“How’s this nightmare of a holiday treatin’ my girl, hm?” he asks, settling the phone into the crook of his shoulder. If he had it his way, there’d be technology to laserbeam your voice permanently into his eardrums.

“It’s okay,” you sigh down the line. “I tried calling you at the trailer first, then when it kept ringing I figured you were at Steve’s party.”

“Yeah, honey, I’m at Steve’s. You want me to come pick you up?” Eddie brightens at the idea, warming up to it the more he talks. “I mean, I’d keep you all to myself, but it’s Christmas and I’m feeling generous. All anyone’s asked about so far is where the hell my girl is at.”

“That’s sweet,” you reply, and Eddie thinks you sound a little distant, a little… off, somehow. “No, that’s okay. I’m not in a partying mood. I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

“Well you have it, sugar,” Eddie purrs. “You want me to read to you? There’s a real slick copy of the phone book hangin’ right next to me. Could really get you going.”

Eddie’s only partly joking. He’d happily read the yellow pages to you until his voice gave out if it meant keeping you on the line for a little longer.

He can picture you so clearly in his head- sitting pretty in that bay window, sock feet tucked under your thighs, twirling the phone cord around your fingers in anxious little twists as you speak softly- “That’s okay, Eds. You enjoy the party, okay? I’ll come by the trailer tomorrow morning with your gift.”

“Sure,” he replies, a little deflated.

After saying his goodbyes, he hangs the phone back on the hook and returns to his spot on the couch, leg bouncing a frenzied beat amid the chaos.

He lasts about three minutes like this, which he feels is more than generous.

As he’s sliding his arms back into his green fleeced flannel, there are a few jeers from the peanut gallery about how “Eddie’s going to suck some face with his girlfriend”, which earns the room a halfhearted and generalized middle finger.

Mrs. Byers stops him in the hallway, but it’s just to hand him two cling-wrapped plates of food with a warm, knowing sort of look about her.

And then Eddie’s off into the night to see his girl.

___

okay hoped you like it gonna post pt. 2 soon follow if u wanna see when it comes out!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson x greenwitch!reader #eddie Munson x witch!reader #eddie Munson #stranger things #eddie Munson fic #eddie munson x you #max mayfield

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hyukassubi · 7 months

Text

🫧 No.2 Cuddler 🧸

Pairing: Jealous Bf!Hueningkai x reader Genre: Fluff. Not the bittersweet kind but actual cuteness overload, enough fluff to power up a whole plushie factory (ps. after re-reading this, I realized there might be the tiniest hint of angst. JUST A TEENSY LITTLE BIT IF YOU REALLY SQUINT THO, OTHERWISE ITS CUTENESS OVERLOAD I SWEAR 😭😭😭) Warnings: none! Synopsis: You enjoy Huening Kai's embrace, but, turns out, he isn't your favourite cuddler... Content: Reader pranks Huening Kai a bit, Huening Kai giving major golden retriever energy, 'Jealousy! Jealousy!', Reader loves plushies, Kinda puppy lovey-dovey ngl :>, Random highlighted words (mostly Huening Kai's name) cuz, again, thought it was super cute!! ^v^ Wc: 504 !!

Peeling the pink-purple face mask off your cheeks in front of your gold-bordered bathroom mirror. Brushing the knots off your hair after a busy day, throwing your work clothes off and putting your soft blue pajamas on. Trotting out of your bathroom to dip into the velvet living room couch where your lover awaits you.

“How’s your day been, sweetheart?” He says after taking a light sip of hot cocoa, watching an episode of Dug Days on Disney Hotstar.

You latch onto his free arm, leaning on one end of his broad shoulders. “Same old.” You yawn, looking at the tv. ”Same old.”

Huening Kai chuckled, staring down at your squishable face. “I’m so cozy, aren’t I?”

You nod.

“I’m a good cuddler, aren’t I?”

You nodded again.

Huening Kai smirked, ears turning the faintest shade of pink. “Am I… the best cuddler?” He looks at you with keen eyes, kinda like an excited little puppy eyeing a shiny new toy.

You paused for a moment. “No.”

Huening Kai’s face flattened, the air in his chest gone. “I’m not?”

“No.” You repeated more firmly this time. “I know someone far more cuddlier than you.”

Huening Kai striked the sassiest side-eye at you, but also, pouted. Just a bit. Okay, maybe a little more than just a bit. “Who?”

You smirked. “My best friend, my one and only. He’s so soft and cozy and he makes me so much happier whenever I hug him.”

Huening Kai freezes up a bit at that, briefly looking left and right for no apparent reason. “You… sleep with him?”

“I cuddle with him in my sleep, yeah.” You smile so innocently. “He’s in my bedroom right now.”

Now he was concerned. “He- He’s where now???”

“He’s in my bedroom all the time! Wanna see him?”

Huening Kai looks at you with meek eyes, throat too tight to continue sipping on his hot cocoa.

“Sure…” He says with uncertainty.

He harrumphed.

It was more than uncertainty, actually. His chest clenched with shock, betrayal, sadness, like a thousand kilogram weight pushed down his heart.

And when you opened that door, he couldn’t even get to himself to stare ahead and open his eyes-

Oh.

Your room was empty.

You skipped towards your bed, grabbing your cinnamoroll plushie. “Here he is!!”

Huening Kai turned red, facepalming. “I thought you actually had another boy with you !”

You looked at Huening Kai, and then cinamoroll, and then Huening Kai again. “But he is a boy.”

Huening Kai pouted. “How could I lose to a plushie?” In a quiet voice he went, “I actually got a little jealous earlier, you know…”

You smiled at him, sandwiching cinamoroll in one arm and slinging around Huening Kai’s waist with the other. “No one can ever replace you, Huening Kai.” You clutched onto your plushie possessively by then. “But no one can cuddle me better than cinnamoroll can.”

Huening Kai jumped over you, landing on the bed, arms around you. “I will not lose to a plushie.”

A/n: for those of you who don't know, cinnamoroll IS a boy 😤😤😤😤

Reblogs and reviews are greatly appreciated 🫶🫶

#hueningkai x reader #hueningkai #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai txt #huening kai #huening kai x reader #txt huening kai #huening kai txt #kai kamal huening #txt #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #txt x reader #huening kai fluff #hueningkai fluff #txt fluff #TOOK ME A WEEK TO WRITE BUT THREE MONTHS TO FINALLY GET TO POSTING THIS HAKDVAKNA

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