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wandaofkrakoa · 2 years

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steve harrington x male reader

vecna has been haunting reader for a long time, and steve is desperate to help him, but vecna catches him faster than steve can.

the dim light held by steve in the abandoned mansion helped calm your nerves as you sat on a couch in the room. your nerves had been erratic, fidgeting with your fingers, tapping your foot, anything to keep you occupied. steve had been looking outside for erica and lucas’ signal for the mission to continue. he seemed frantic as well, though he probably hid it better than you did. looking over to the man, you decided to grab his attention.

you did a light clap, not enough to alert vecna, but one to gain steve’s attention. he rushed over and grabbed a pen as well as a notepad that was placed on the table. he wrote quickly, just in case it was urgent.

“what’s up? do you need anything?”

you reached for another notepad, scribbling some words on the paper. the pencil sounds would come to a sudden stop and you twisted the notepad to face steve.

“you.”

steve took the message immediately, writing down what he wanted to say on the pad. you tapped the notepad, watching him turn the page and have it face you.

“i’m right here.”

he wrote, giving you a confused yet concerned look. you wrote on the page once more, giving more context on exactly what you wanted.

“closer.”

steve and you weren’t an official couple, in fact it really just felt like a one sided crush from your part it seemed. he was careful and thoughtful of you, but he’s like that with everyone isn’t he? steve walked over and sat on the couch beside you, writing something and turning it to you.

“you’re gonna be okay. vecna isn’t going to do anything as long as the plan works, okay?”

you gulped reading the words, flipping to another page and writing your response.

“but what if it doesn’t? it all feels so jarring and scary. today could literally be my last day alive.”

steve‘s face contorted into one of sadness, but he was still hopeful, writing down in his own notebook.

“don’t think like that. you are going to be fine. no matter what happens.”

you didn’t write back, you just sat in silence, looking down at your lap. reality had hit you once more. what were the chances of survival? i mean sure, you escaped vecna before with the help of kate bush, but that was by the literal skin of your teeth. steve placed a hand on your shoulder, temporarily pulling you out of your thoughts and bringing you back to him.

steve would pull you in for a hug, and you accepted as tears began to build in your eyes.

“i’m so scared steve… i don’t know how i got myself into this…”

you whispered to him. steve had been silent for a minute until he spoke up, though something changed. steve’s demeanor shifted. something was wrong.

“i would always be there for you m/n. even if steve doesn’t want to.”

the voice had much more bass than steve typically did as you pulled from the hug, only to see steve’s appearance shift from himself to vecna. his veiny skin, his skinny frame, his white milk tones, it all was so shocking that you screamed, causing you to fall back onto the floor. you panicked, causing you to crawl backwards, and eventually finding the momentum to stand up and run out of the door and into the hallway.

steve noticed that you had gone still for a moment, still stuck staring at your lap. he leaned forward, nudging you to face him. your eyes had gone into your head as you shook violently. your stillness confirmed that vecna had taken ahold of you, steve grabbing a flashlight and running to the window to alert lucas and erica. he clicked it a few times until he got a flashlight click from them back.

you ran down the stairs, looking for any type of exit in the decrepit house. the constant darkness made it hard to see, but coming into contact with the front door helped gather your immediate surroundings. the door was covered with broad wooden planks to keep you inside but you began to attempt topull them off, realizing how durable they were. you could hear vecna behind you, but you only were focused on the doors, trying your best to ignore his constant taunting.

“steve is never going to love you m/n. he’s just going to reject you and push you aside like everyone else. i would never do that… if you joined me i’d give you purpose, as well as appreciation for your servitude.”

you pulled off one plank as it thudded to the ground. it felt like it weighed hundreds of pounds. vecna inched closer and closer, tears beginning to gather in your eyes as he made his descent. the planks were too heavy to consistently get them off in reasonable timing. panicking, you rushed towards another hallway, doing your best to buy the rest of the party some time to attack vecna physically.

steve returned to your side holding the cassette tape in his hands and ready to play the music at any moment. steve wasn’t religious, he didn’t even believe in any higher powers, but he prayed to the gods that you wouldn’t end up like chrissy or fred. he believed you could make it out, you were persistent, immovable if you wanted to be. he whispered to himself to try and keep himself calm, and also to attempt to reach you with his words, even though he knew you might not hear them.

“you’re gonna be okay, and you’re gonna come back to me. that’s how this works. that’s how it’s always worked and that’s how it’s gonna work today. you’re going to escape that fucking creep vecna and you’re going to come back to me m/n. promise me that, i need you to promise me.”

he took your hands into his lap and ran his thumb over your shaking hands. you turned the hallway and pushed into a door, only to find nothing but stone inside the room. you tried every other door in the hallway, and it was the same. stone stone and more stone. you backed to the edge of the hallway, vecna’s shadow creeping into the corners of your vision as tears began to fill your eyes. vecna had caught you. you had nowhere else to go as every door lead to nowhere. he stood at the end of the hallway.

“you’ve suffered. for so long. i think it’s time i help you put an end to that.” vecna’s footsteps were powerful, every step causing your heart to sink into the depths of your body. his claw-like fingers would move slightly, pulling you off the walls and closer to you instead. face to face with the monster who has polluted your life into a waking nightmare. his fingernails traced over your features. these were going to be your final moments and you felt helpless.

your thoughts drifted to steve. memories from the past came forward, even ones you didn’t think much about, like him driving the both of you to get ice cream after his basketball matches, or stopping by family video and picking up a cheesy comedy he recommended you. steve’s presence in your life felt like a large one, and you hoped he felt the same.

steve solemnly watched as your body levitated towards the ceiling, shouting words to attempt to pull you out of your trance and to escape from vecna’s curse. you heard his voice faintly in the background, but the presence of vecna’s overwhelming claw muted it. your eyes closed instinctively, helpless. your arm would crack out of place, steve’s cries coming louder. next were your legs, steve’s heart breaking with every noise your lifeless body made.

though your eyes were close, you could hear vecna cry in pain. your recalling of the plan came back to you, nancy, robin, and the others taking vecna on physically as well. your physical body fell, hearing steve’s solemn crying. you couldn’t see. why couldn’t you see?

“s-steve!?”

“i’m here- erica help!”

you wanted to move, but it hurt even more to. the endless black, you longed desperately to see steve at least one more time.

“i…is he dead?”

“i-i-i don’t know m/n… don’t focus on him right now, stay w-with me.”

his hands cupped your face, going over features. you popped in and out of consciousness, his words coming fainter and fainter.

“i should’ve told you this sooner- FUCK. i don’t know.. maybe this was my fault. i knew you’d be put in this situation and i didn’t tell you…”

though you couldn’t feel much, you felt steve’s lips upon yours. his tears dropped onto your face. you couldn’t move well, but you did your best to try and return the kiss. you felt yourself dying, but in your last moments, you felt at peace. steve held you, refusing to let you go. he would never let go again.

#stranger things #stranger things x male reader #lgbtwriter #steve harrington #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader

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sanityshorror · 3 months

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IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ!!! All tags are relevant to my content created!

I'm Sanity. Many know me as a creator of a well known creepypasta and formally crp fandom creator. Many of you know me as a splatterpunk author who wrote The Man with the Scarred Neck. Many of you know me for my illustrations. Many for other reasons.

I am in serious need of help raising as much funds for very serious reasons ASAP, due to real life personal and immediate emergencies that were fully unforseen and only happened a few hours ago. Please go to my carrd to find links to all my pages and ways to support.

Commissions can be purchased by clicking the Buymeacoffee or KoFi icon going to the commission page. Monthly memberships with many perks are also available! You can donate there and buy the ebook the man with the scarred neck in the shop. click the tee spring icon to purchase merch. You can directly donate through cash app. Links to purchase physical copies of the men with the scarred neck are also provided on carrd!! I will of course be providing content especially for paying members as much as possible, all commissions and commissions hired will of course be completed in as timely of a manner and quickly as possible!!

unfortunately, to my dismay, The Dressmaker from Hell will likely be postponed until May 27, 2024 (2 year anniversary of Julius's creepypasta) as the emergencies are going to render me incapable of finishing the book as currently scheduled.

I will be doing my best to put out as much content as possible!!! I promise.I'm so so so sorry... I'll update on plans once I figure it out!!

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magnoliabutters · 10 months

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• I THINK WE’RE ALONE NOW •

pairing: eddie munson x (he/him) reader

summary: finally, you find yourself truly alone with munson…

warnings: 18+, mdni, adult language; novice reader, consent discussions, smut, pet names, references to previous parts, oral (reader receiving), semi-public, aftercare, internal dialogue, etc.

word count: ~4.3k

reblogs for daddy eddie 🥴

• the banished ones • part three •

note: this part is dedicated to my pride 2023 collection! and i’ll tell you rn, i thought i wanted to make this the series finale but i’m having way too much fun. there’s def gonna be one or two more parts to the banished ones series...

“Dude, there is no way Solo shot first, okay?” Gareth yells. The tone of his voice clearly shows his level of dedication to Han. “He would never do that.” You scoff, not being able to hold the laughter within. “What do you mean? That is totally like him!” you reply with a smile. You turn to Munson for encouragement. He was already staring at you behind his curly bangs, holding a deep, beaming grin.

Gareth stands up, ripping the book off the table. “You know what,” he says under his breath as he pushes the DnD: Basic Set into his backpack. “Aw common dude”, you and Ben overlap. “Nah, man, that’s a bit too much Han Solo hating for me,” he says, shaking his finger back and forth. “Gareth, common,” Ben pleads. “Who said I was hating?” you scoff. “I love Han and I love that he shot first.”

With a deep sigh, Gareth quickly says, “Goodbye.” He rushes down the stage’s stairs and out the door. You swear you could see steam coming from his ears. “Damn it,” Ben says as he places a worried hand to his forehead. “What’s wrong, Peterson?” Munson asks in an annoyed sing songy voice. “Gareth was my ride,” he mumbles. “My parents are gonna kill me.”

You turn towards Munson, mouthing “yikes,” but he was already lost in thought. His eyes perk as soon as he figures something out. “Y-you can take my van,” he suggests, grabbing the keys from his denim pant’s pocket. Ben slowly reaches for the keys as though they were gold. “You’re sure?” he asks. “Yeah, J will take me home,” Munson answers with a firm slap to your back.

As Ben’s fingers touch the key’s rings, Munson whispers in his ear, “If you fuck up my van, I fuck you up.” Ben stands straight as possible with blinking eyes as Munson returns to his cheery self. But you aren’t even able to enjoy it. Your mind struggles to accept the fact that you’ll be spending even more time with him, alone. And you know what happens when you two are alone.

“O-okay,” Ben says with a shudder as he hooks his backpack over his shoulder. He walks out hastily, with an occasional look back towards Munson. “I’m sorry, I just assumed,” he laughs charismatically. “Is it alright if you take me home?” You stumble with your words, still trying to process the idea. “Y-yeah, um, that’s fine,” you stutter.

Munson’s smile grows twice in size. His eyes twinkling in a way that makes your heart flutter. “Lead the way,” he says as he gestures towards the auditorium’s entrance. You walk forward with hesitance, a deep swallow to your throat. Your hand shakes as it reaches the keys in your pocket.

He follows behind you. The distance being an odd mixture between nervously close and a good length away. He seems to be a master in the craft, effortlessly moving between touch and distance. But you cannot deny how his touch makes you feel. It transports you somewhere, a place filled with happiness and rocked with your wildest dreams of peace.

Silence fills the remainder of your walks through the halls and into the parking lot. It feels like a wasted opportunity, but no words pop into your head. All you can think about is his hand on your thigh. His fingers tangling with your button and pants. The way your heart pops out of your chest like and old-timey cartoon any time his eyes fall upon your own.

“A Volvo, huh?” Munson asks with a smile as he trails a finger against your hood. You look around the parking lot and realize yours is the last car. No one else is here. “J?” he asks again with a chuckle. One brow raises suspiciously. You quickly turn to him with wide eyes and a self-conscious laugh. You push a hand through your hair sheepishly.

“What were you thinking about?” He asks with a sweet smile that makes your stomach flip somersaults. With a quick inhale, you walk towards him with a smirk. An oh-so-confident smirk that he found curious. “Oh, I was just thinking how you’re going to be my passenger princess,” you say with a sigh. A beaming smile ending your words.

Munson lets out a sharp breath through his nostrils as he shakes his head. A smile forms on his lips as his tongue presses against the roof of his mouth. "Usually, I'm the driver," he says softly with brows raised. You walk closer to him, sliding your hand into the door's handle. You open it and gesture for him to sit down. He takes a second, inhales, and sits down. "You're my princess now," you mutter before closing the door. His wide eyes stare back at you with a gaping, yet amused mouth as you walk to the driver's side.

You take one last look at the parking lot. A second confirmation that the two of you are, in fact, alone. It's not that you need to be alone to with him, or that you want to hide him from others. You find safety and solidarity in the absence of people. The fear of being who you truly are dissipates as they do. This part of you that has been burrowing so deep within finally has the opportunity to come out. Finally, you can get to experience that part of you in your new found reality.

As your hand rests against the handle, tightness pangs against your chest. You have never done this before. You think you know what you want, what you should do, but you have never once done this. You haven't done any of this with anyone, excluding that one horrid birthday party where you played 7-minutes in heaven with Judy Thompson in 8th grade. That kiss is when you knew, without a doubt, that something was off. That girls don't bring the same floating, exciting feelings to your chest. No, no - that feeling was saved for boys, for men. Men like Munson.

You sit down with your hands tight against the steering wheel. You can feel Munson's gaze on you. There is an uneven tension within the air. You've never done this ... but should that stop you? You take in a quivering breath with eyes closed. Your shoulders practically at your ears with the inhale. You turn to him, opening your eyes to those chestnut irises. You instantly feel that warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest. Your hands slowly reach to his cheeks. You watch as his eyes widen just before yours close and your lips touch.

His lips, pink and supple, feel like clouds against your own. You can feel the soft curls of his hair against your fingertips. With another peck, you feel his hands against your biceps. They support you in your gentle hold against his cheeks. His kisses are sweet, gentle, and loving. You feel as though you had died and gone to heaven. Your Volvo, Munson, and you would be the beautifulest slice of heaven.

Your hands gradually travel further into his hair. Fingers now entangled in those brunette locks. His palms now cup your cheeks. You know he can feel your smile within his hands. With each graze of his lips, you find yourself craving more. Your grip onto his hair becomes tighter. You readjust yourself in your seat as you lean closer to him. He is intoxicating. His smell. His touch. His taste.

Without further delay, you lightly brush your tongue against his lips. You are met with the strength of his own as your mouths widen. The blood drains from your face as you feel pressure in your stomach. He now pushes against you, coming closer and closer to you. Somehow you disconnect from your body and your subconscious reaches for the handle to push your seat back.

Munson takes the cue and gracefully lands his knee beside your outer thigh. He straddles your legs. His curls now brushing against your face as he peers down to kiss you. You struggle to catch a breath, only because you would rather kiss him forever than to take a second to stop. Your hands nervously raise to his hips as his remain on your cheeks. His nails dig into your skin, an exciting sensation.

As his tongue now resides in your mouth and his breath is hot upon your lips, your hands travel up his back. Your grip tightening with each second that passes. Slowly, you feel his hips begin to move. Panic strikes you as you feel all the blood reach your lower extremities. Your kisses are more rushed. Your hands more careful. It's almost as though your mind and its bundle of overwhelming thoughts has returned.

With each rut of his hips, Munson's friction against your jeans becomes harder and harder. You open your eyes, staring at your car's beige clothed roof - still kissing him, but praying to the fucking gods that you don't bust right here. You have never felt so good. Never felt so alive.

You can feel your body tensing up. You can feel that familiar hot and firm sensation in your pants. His thrusts against your lap never stopped. Not that you would ever want them to stop. You don't want to get a boner too early. Is there such a thing as too early? Fuck, man. Maybe think of feet, or salamanders, or-or volcanos - wait, no, not volcanos.

As he leans over you, your hands find a sweet, bare spot at the base of his spine. Your fingertips explore digging under his shirt. His skin is soft and warm. Fuck, this isn't helping. You start to pull away for some breaths, but he doesn't stop. His sweet lips now find a place against the nape of your neck. His cool breath sending shiver downs your spine. Fuck, that doesn't help either!

Gradually, Munson's movements slow down. He pulls his lips away from your neck, which almost makes you whimper. His eyes fall upon you with a straight face. Yours undeniably expresses worry as you look his way. "Lean the chair back and scoot up," he says calmly as his hips maintain an easy grind against your lap.

While still presenting those worried lines on your face, you reach down to pull up the seat's handle. It reclines until it hits the back seat. You sit frozen. "Now, scoot up," he coos. You catch a hint of a smile in reaction to your innocence. You reluctantly pull your hands from his hips as you scoot back to the headrest of the chair. Your torso leans against the backseat.

As you move, Munson adjusts himself where he kneels on the car floor and rests between your legs. Your eyes widen at the sight. Your mouth practically watering. The tent in your pants becoming more and more unavoidable. His hands press firmly into your thighs. A sensation you would imagine would be comparable to a massage. "May I?" he asks softly. His hands now resting in the spot where your thighs and hips meet. "I felt you," he murmurs. "It felt good."

Your entire body feels as though its filled with pins and needles. Nervousness rips the breath right from under you. Words aren't coming out, well - if you even had words to say right now. Your mind is completely blank. Then all of a sudden, words come out without your intent or knowledge. "I've never done this before," you whisper. Your eyes fall to your chest as your jaw clenches. Stupid, you think. Why did you tell him?

Munson leans over your body once more. His chest heavy against your hips. Two fingers pinch your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "It's okay," he says. A deep breath you hadn't noticed you were holding releases. "I'll take care of you," he soothes as he floats back onto his knees. His eyes are glued to you as his hands reach your pants. His fingers unbutton your jeans, relieving some pressure - at least physically. He then tucks his fingers into your waistline and pulls them down. You nervously help him get the jeans from under you, but he continues to pull them to your knees by himself.

One hand presses harshly against your chin, covering your mouth. The other shakes, tapping fingers against your thigh. He quickly notices and intertwines his fingers with yours. Your shaking stops as you feel his comforting embrace. "I'm going to ask again," he says softly. "I need you to be honest with me. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do." You nod hastily. Your vocal box no longer attached to your body. "Do you want me to keep going?"

You take a second to think, as much as you wanted to immediately say "yes." Your mind reels over the possibilities. If you say no, will you ever have this chance again? If you say yes, will you regret it? You'll be giving yourself, all of yourself to him - a boy, a-a man you just met today. But this man isn't just anyone. He isn't the first gay man you've ever met. There is something about him that gives you courage. That makes you feel like you can do anything, be anything. Like you can dare to be your true self. You deserve to be your true self, to follow your heart.

"Yes," you say with the utmost confidence. That little nervousness in the back of your throat persists, but you acknowledge that it's because this is your first time being this intimate with someone. Not that you are worried that this may be a mistake. You are more confident now than ever in knowing that this is most definitely not a mistake.

Munson nods, a slight smile to his face. He peers down at your checkered boxers. "Hm, I was expecting something a little brighter," he jokes. You let out a chuckle of relief. "Maybe next time," you say softly. "Oh, there's going to be a next time?" he asks sincerely. Your heart drops as anxiety fills it again. "I hope so," you softly plead, shooting him those worried eyes he's come to enjoy. With a smile, he shares, "I hope so too."

He tucks his fingers underneath the elastic of your boxers. You rush your hands to your eyes. Somehow it makes sense to hide. He smiles as he pulls further down. You feel your cock flip to your stomach, firm as can be. Your pants now joined by another garment.

The pressure on your eyes stronger than ever. "Oh fuck," Munson says breathlessly. You tear your hands from your eyes to see what was wrong. Your gaze lands upon him. The tongue that slicks his bottom lip. The eyes that gleam and twinkle. The teeth that dig into the flesh of his lips.

His breathing now matches yours. You wonder if he's nervous too. The sight excites you as you slowly become more confident in your bare and exposed body. “Oh man,” he mumbles to himself. Another uptick in your stress meter. “I can work with this, J.” His jaw tightens as he takes more deep inhale. You can’t help the smile broadening across your face.

Munson’s hand slowly rests at your hip bones. His skin against yours is a pleasure you never thought to have existed. Let alone a sensation you would be able to experience with someone else. His hand slowly slides closer and closer to your base. You can feel yourself twitching in anticipation.

His fingers slowly collapse around your girth. You bite your lip, hoping to keep a moan from coming out. He looks up to you with a laugh as he slowly raises his grip and slides it back down. “I like seeing you squirm,” he says with a raising brow. It feels like a taunt. Like a ball served over the net, expecting your return. You nervously laugh, from the situation and the new sensations. “I like your hand on my cock,” you say.

Immediate regret fills your face and you struggle to keep your cool. But without missing a beat, you naturally add, “Princess.” Munson huffs with a glowing grin. Another side nod and the sexiest words fall from his mouth. “Okay, daddy.” You can’t help but squirm again, especially since he decided to squeeze a bit harder with his last word.

A harsh breath escapes you as his movement quickens. You find your hips wanting to move with him. Little moans you can’t help leave you. You have never felt so damn good. His thumb brushes against your head ever so lightly. You are as red as can be. Your sensitivity levels on max. “Mm,” you let out as your head falls back and you lick your lips.

His movements continue. Up and down. Pulsating squeezes. A thumb to rub the head. Suddenly, you hear a spit, followed by a sudden coolness against your cock. His fingers slipping much easier, much quicker against your skin. “Oh fuck,” you painfully plead, desperate not to blow too early. Not only would that be embarrassing, but you most definitely want more and more of this touching.

“Mmm, good boy,” Munson murmurs in response. Your crown still pressed against the headrest. Your body tight. Eyes closed shut. You feel a soft breath against your head, another new feeling. Then you feel a familiar softness as it wraps around your cock. A warm, moist spot that makes you want to crumble into pieces.

Curiously, you look down and see his curly mane bobbing against your groin. “Oh shit,” you say desperately. Your eyes wide open now. Almost involuntarily, your hand returns to its favorite spot, to tangling within his locks. His tongue swirls around your head in a way that makes you dizzy. How could this feel even better than the last? How could anything feel better than this?

Another brush of his tongue and you truly are struggling to hold it in. Sweat bullets drop from your forehead. You pull your eyes away from him, hoping maybe that would help. Of course, it does not. “Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble to yourself. A hand now resting against your mouth.

At your mewling sounds, Munson finally takes all of you in. You feel his tongue slick and firm against your raging cock. The warmth that you never knew you craved. His hand now gently cupping your balls. A soft thumb rubbing over them. “M-M-Munson,” you call out, trying to warn him. But in this world, filled with pleasure, there are no words. No words you or he could muster.

Once you feel that pit in your stomach, you finally disconnect from your brain and live in the moment. Your hips begin to rut as his hands support him at the tops of your thighs. The fingers deep within his curls begin to tighten and tug. The moans falling from your lips no longer filtered. Your other hand smacks against the door frame, digging your nails into the window’s pocket.

Abruptly, Munson pulls up from your cock with a gasp. Saliva strings still connecting you two together. One hand wipes it off his lips as the other grabs firmly at your base. His movements now quicker than ever, following the lead of your hips. The pit in your stomach grows deeper and deeper until…

“Fuck!” you yell in a whisper. You feel the familiar warmth spots falling against your stomach and thighs. Your hips still rutting against him. His hand still tight, but with smoother slides up and down. His other hand lightly massages the top of your thigh. You feel your high slowly fading away, thankful for his support in guiding you down.

Gradually, your eyes open to the sight of Munson hiding behind a strand of his hair. A guilty, sheepish smile behind the curls. You laugh despite your exhaustion. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says sweetly as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. You quickly raise up, pulling your legs from under him.

“No, no,” you say with a waving of your hand. “I got it.” You pull the bottom of your shirt over your head. He’s seen your cock, you figure he could see your chest - despite the dependable self-conscious feeling of the act. You roll your shirt into a ball and gently grab his hand to wipe off any remaining cum. Then you wipe the cum off your skin. “I might like being the princess,” he says softly, but you could only hear a mumble. “What was that?” you say as you raise your head from your cleaning.

Munson shakes his head, pushing his lips out into a mix of pout and grin, as he answers, “Nothing.” Clearing his throat, he adds, “We should probably get going. Janitors usually get in at 10.” He takes one look, another bite to his lip, before pulling away. He crawls over to the passenger seat before peering back at you. “They get cranky if they find anyone on campus.”

“How would you know?” you say with a grin. You find relief in your conversations remaining random and comfortable. You start to pull your boxers and jeans up. “There’s no time limit on finishing a campaign, okay?” he retorts. You can’t help but laugh as you hook your button closed. You gracefully pull the seat up and to a comfortable position to the wheel. Seat belt across your torso and buckled in. He watches intently.

As you reverse the car, you ask, “Where to, Munson?” In a booming, announcing voice, he states, “Forest Hills Trailer Park.” Another chuckle falls as you shake your head. “I have no fucking clue where that is,” you say. He responds hastily, “Oh, right, um … Turn right here.” You turn on your blinker and steer right out of the parking lot and into the road. Out of the side of your eye, you see a hint of confusion across his face.

“Okay, so at the next stop sign, you wanna take a right,” Munson says with another point to the right. You have to hand it to him. He’s a pretty good tour guide. The man has you turning back and forth every other street where you just so happen to pass by what he thinks is the coolest parts of Hawkins. You press on your breaks a good few meters away from the stop sign as you have been taught. But, again, you receive a confused glancing look.

“What?” you scoff. “Oh nothing,” Munson says as he turns his torso back towards the road. “Bullshit,” you say as you come to a complete stop. You flip on your blinker and wait three seconds before turning. He looks as though he might burst. Whatever words he has, he is holding them back with tears in his eyes.

“Spit it out, Munson,” you taunt. “Or should I say ‘Eddie?’” He takes in a deep breath, pinching his pointer and thumb together. “You drive like a grandma,” he says calmly and slowly. “What?!” you ask with incredulous laughter. “What because I follow the law?”

Munson takes in a sharp breath as his smile becomes a thin line. Your words almost seem painful to him. “The law?” he asks in a bit of a choke. “Oh, what, like you don’t?” you ask with a scoff. He shakes his head inquisitively. He draws your attention to his torso with no seat belt. He digs into his pocket and reveals a blunt and zippo lighter. He grabs hold of his collar, pulling it down to show the tattoo of a black detailed spider.

“Impressive,” you say while nodding. “Dangerous,” you add as you reach for the passenger seat belt. “Put it on, princess.” Munson rolls his eyes but complies with a smile as your gaze returns to the road. “Let’s just say,” you continue, trying to hype yourself up. “I follow the law of the road.”

Your failed attempt has Munson cackling. Stifling his laugh, he asks, “Do you have any tattoos?” You snort at the idea. “You just saw me naked. I feel like you should know.” He shoots you his bullshit grin. “I didn’t see your ass, or your back,” he starts. “But you wished you did, huh?” you lean over to him, biting your bottom lip.

His smile now quivers as his eyes look at your lips. “Maybe,” he says with a rising pitch. His blushing cheeks suddenly become the best thing you have ever seen. You struggle to fight the urge to not kiss him. Your eyes have to be on the road, remember?

“Oh! Forest Hills, right?” You point towards the barely lit sign. It rests in a field of dirt with patches of grass. You click your blinker to turn left. “Yeah,” Munson adds, abruptly pulled from the flirtatious moment he was enjoying. “It’s the trailer in the back and to the right.”

You pull onto another patch of dirt in front of the Munson trailer. Your headlights shining brightly against the metal. Your heart sinks as you put your car into park. You thought you were ready to say goodbye, to see him tomorrow for more inconspicuous, daring flirting and touching in public. But no. You aren’t ready. You want to stay in this car, stay with him forever. Your hands never leave the steering wheel. Your eyes stare into the odometer as you attempt to think of a clever idea to keep the night going.

“I owe you a shirt,” Munson says, drawing your attention. “You should come in.” Your heart leaps, your mouth drops. A small piece of you considers telepathy, but you quickly push that thought away. “Yeah, I should. Shouldn’t I?” you say with a smile as you turn off the ignition and rest your keys on your lap. He laughs at your fast response. Those blushing cheeks return.

“Lead the way, Munson.”

note: thank you for so much for reading! have a happy & safe pride! just remember, there is more to come...

comment and/or reblog if you'd like to join the taglist!

taglist: (thank you!) @wolfiescosplay, @eddiesprettygirl, @unholycheesesnack, & @wrandomwritting

• series • updates • pride pairings collection •

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atropos-musing · 2 years

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god you’re telling me I have to actually work on my wips

#creative writing #writeblr #writer things #aspiring author #college writing #creativewriters #lgbtwriter #muse’s musings #writer #writing

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wandering-wolf23 · 11 months

Link

Y’all, one of my books wound up on this list! If you want to check WildWood out, you can click the link HERE. I’m so excited!! This is the first list I’ve wound up on!! Please support your local queer authors/artists/and book bloggers during Pride and beyond!

Thank you very much to Margherita is in a writing slump on Twitter!! You’re awesome and so is this list!!

#Wildwood #Dispatches #lgbtwriter #writeblr #writers on tumblr #my books #original content? on this blog?#this is a writing blog so I should post my writing #rec list

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deoidesign · 2 years

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nyyoooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooom

#lgbt art #lgbtwriter #web comics #digital art #main characters of my webcomic #adam and steve #adam #steve #TTAcomic #my art #ttawebcomic #time and time again

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enragedpineapple · 5 months

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Chapter 15: Didn't Mean to Fall in Love (Link + Excerpt)

Yor: Was it all a lie? Loid: No... not all of it. Yor: Did you lie when you said you loved me? Loid: Never.

Okay here's the second upload for the day! This was fun to write and I've been waiting SO LONG to post it. Hope you enjoy it!! You can read the new chapter here!

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meimei-a · 2 years

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"My parents keep buying me all these queer stuff it's so embarrassed"

shut up just shut the fuck up man

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punctatum · 25 days

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Hobie Brown x Trans (ftm) Reader

There’s been a lack of Hobie fanfics in general on this app and especially x trans readers. I’m still in Spiderverse brainrot and this is going to be more of a self insert thing. It also won’t really be a fanfic it’s just going to be a list of headcanons. :)

Warning: There will be some suggestive/NSFW headcanons in this too. There’s also a mention of transphobia, pre-transitioning. This isn’t edited so there might be some grammar/spelling mistakes.

Hobie is SO respectful of your identity. He always genders you correctly and would die before he ever deadnamed you, even if you only recently came out to him.

He is respectful of your identity, and that also means that he is respectful of your body. If you haven’t medically transitioned yet, he’s always very careful about wherever his hands go. If he thinks something he’s doing is making you dysphoric, he will ask you if it’s okay for him to keep doing whatever it was. If you haven’t had top surgery yet, he is very gentle with your boobs. He doesn’t want to make you feel worse about yourself, and is also really vocal about it. If you want him to touch your boobs, he will do it in the most tender way possible, and if you don’t, his hands never go anywhere NEAR them.

Hobie always stands up for you, no matter what happens. If someone’s being transphobic to you, he’s the first to do something about it. He always steps in. He’s not afraid to beat someone up if he needs to, either. He knows you’re well capable of handling yourself, but he just loves to take care of you.

When you’re feeling dysphoric, Hobie WORSHIPS you, in any way he possibly can. He cooks for you, cleans for you, will do anything you tell him to. His love language is definitely physical touch, and he always randomly wraps his arms around you. Sometimes you’ll be standing by the sink, washing off your plates, and he’ll just show up behind you, knowing that you’re feeling dysphoric, and pulling you close to him.

(Wip)

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queerism1969 · 2 years

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LGBT writers from India

Ritu Dalmia

Ritu Dalmia (born 1973) is an Indian celebrity chef and restaurateur. She is the chef and co-owner of the popular Italian restaurant Diva in Delhi, which she established in 2000, with co-founder Gita Bhalla under partnership firm "Riga Food".

Gazal Dhaliwal

Gazal Dhaliwal is an Indian screenwriter who recently wrote the screenplay and dialogues for Vinod Chopra Films’ Ek Ladki Ko Dekha Toh Aisa Laga, starring Rajkummar Rao, Anil Kapoor and Sonam K Ahuja. Previously, she has worked on Alankrita Shrivastava's critically acclaimed Lipstick Under My Burkha as the dialogue writer and she wrote the dialogues and co-wrote the screenplay for Qarib Qarib Singlle, directed by Tanuja Chandra, starring Irrfan Khan and Parvathy. She also wrote additional dialogues for Wazir that starred Amitabh Bachchan and Farhan Akhtar.

She is also a public speaker and LGBTQ+ activist, who has spoken openly about being a transgender woman in several talks and in the media – most famously in an episode of the Aamir Khan-led talk show, Satyamev Jayate.

Saagar Gupta

He has written screenplay and dialogues for independent films like The Pink Mirror and Evening Shadows as well as dialogues for several TV episodes of Rishtey, Gubbare, Kagaar and TV shows like Jassi Jaissi Koi Nahin, Left Right Left, Radha Ki Betiyaan among others.

Harish Iyer

Harish Iyer, also known as "Aham", hiyer and "Harrish Iyer" (born 16 April 1979) is an Indian equal rights activist. Iyer engages in advocacy for a number of causes, including promoting the rights of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) community, children, women, animals, and survivors of child sexual abuse.

Firdaus Kanga

Firdaus Kanga (Born in 1960, age 61) is an Indian writer and actor who lives in London. He has written a novel, Trying to Grow a semi-autobiographical novel set in India and a travel book Heaven on Wheels about his experiences in the United Kingdom where he met Stephen Hawking. Trying to Grow was later turned into a film, Sixth Happiness, for which Kanga wrote the screenplay, and in which he starred.

Ashok Row Kavi

Ashok Row Kavi is an Indian journalist and LGBT rights activist.

Devdutt Pattanaik

Devdutt Pattanaik is an Indian mythologist, speaker, illustrator and author, known for his writing on Hindu sacred lore, legends, folklore, fables and parables. His work focuses largely on the areas of religion, mythology, and management.

Akkai Padmashali

Akkai Padmashali is an Indian transgender activist, motivational speaker, and singer. For her work in activism she has received the Rajyotsava Prashasti, the second highest civilian honor of the state of Karnataka, and an honorary doctorate from the Indian Virtual University for Peace and Education.

Onir

Onir (born Anirban Dhar, 1 May 1969) is an Indian film and TV director, editor, screenwriter and producer. He is best known for his film My Brother…Nikhil, based on the life of Dominic d'Souza, starring Sanjay Suri and Purab Kohli Nikhil was one of the first mainstream Hindi films to deal with AIDS and same-sex relationships.

Onir won the National Award for his film I Am. He has won 16 total film awards.

Suniti Namjoshi

Suniti Namjoshi (born 1941 in Mumbai, India) is a poet and a fabulist. She grew up in India, worked in Canada and at present lives in the southwest of England with English writer Gillian Hanscombe. Her work is playful, inventive and often challenges prejudices such as racism, sexism, and homophobia. She has written many collections of fables and poetry, several novels, and more than a dozen children's books. Her work has been translated into several languages, including Spanish, Italian, Dutch, Chinese, Korean, Hindi and Turkish.

Ismail Merchant

Ismail Merchant (born Ismail Noor Muhammad Abdul Rahman (25 December 1936 – 25 May 2005) was an Indian film producer, director and screenwriter. He worked for many years in collaboration with Merchant Ivory Productions which included Director (and Merchant's longtime professional and domestic partner) James Ivory as well as screenwriter Ruth Prawer Jhabvala.

Hoshang Merchant

Hoshang Dinshaw Merchant (born 1947) is a poet from India. Most of his writings are in English. He is best known for his anthology on gay writing titled Yaarana.

Maxim Mazumdar

Maxim Mazumdar (27 January 1952 – 28 April 1988) was an Indo-Canadian playwright and director. He is known for his one-man show, Oscar Remembered, which tells the story of the Irish playwright Oscar Wilde as seen from the perspective of his lover and nemesis, Lord Alfred Douglas.

Anand Mahadevan

Anand Mahadevan is an Indian-Canadian writer, who was awarded an Honour of Distinction from the Dayne Ogilvie Prize for LGBT writers in 2013.

Born and raised in Tamil Nadu, India, Mahadevan moved to the United States at age 17 to study. He moved to Canada in 2002, and teaches science at the University of Toronto Schools and creative writing at the Humber School for Writers.

The Strike, his debut novel about a young Tamil man's gay sexual awakening, was published in Canada by TSAR Publications in 2006.[4] Its publication in India followed in 2009.

His second novel, tentatively titled American Sufi, is slated for future publication.

He has also been an active supporter of the campaign to strike down Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code, which criminalized homosexuality in India.

He subsequently served on the jury for the 2015 Dayne Ogilvie Prize, selecting Alex Leslie as that year's winner.

Vyjayanti Vasanta Mogli

Vyjayanti Vasanta Mogli is an Indian transgender activist, RTI activist, singer and motivational speaker.She intervened in the “Suresh Kumar Kaushal & Other vs Naz Foundation & Others” Case in the Supreme Court in 2014 in which she highlighted the deleterious effects of conversion or reparative therapy on queer people through her affidavit.

Vijayarajamallika

Vijayarajamallika, known as Daivathinte Makal, is a transgender poet in Malayalam literature, She is a writer, teacher, social worker, inspirational speaker, and activist.

Vasudhendra

Vasudhendra is an Indian author in Kannada language known for his short stories and personal essays.

Ruth Vanita

Ruth Vanita is an Indian academic, activist and author who specialises in British and Indian literary history with a focus on gender and sexuality studies. She also teaches and writes on Hindu philosophy.

Manil Suri

Manil Suri (born July 1959) is an Indian-American mathematician and writer of a trilogy of novels all named for Hindu gods. His first novel, The Death of Vishnu (2001), which was long-listed for the 2001 Booker Prize, short-listed for the 2002 PEN/Faulkner Award and won the Barnes & Noble Discover Prize that year. Since then, he has published two more novels, The Age of Shiva (2008) and The City of Devi (2013), completing the trilogy.

Gopi Shankar Madurai

Gopi Shankar Madurai (Tamil: கோபி ஷங்கர் மதுரை, born 13 April 1991) is an Indian equal rights and Indigenous rights activist. Shankar was one of the youngest, and the first openly intersex and genderqueer statutory authority and one of the candidates to contest in 2016 Tamil Nadu Legislative Assembly election. Shankar is also the founder of Srishti Madurai Student Volunteer Collective. Shankar’s work inspired the Madras High Court (Madurai Bench) to direct the Government of Tamil Nadu to order a ban on forced sex-selective surgeries on intersex infants. In December 2017 Shankar was elected to the Executive board of ILGA Asia. In August 2020 the Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment appointed Shankar as the South Regional representative in the National Council for Transgender Persons.

Vikram Seth

Vikram Seth CBE, FRSL (born 20 June 1952) is an Indian novelist and poet. He has written several novels and poetry books. He has received several awards such as Padma Shri, Sahitya Academy Award, Pravasi Bharatiya Samman, WH Smith Literary Award and Crossword Book Award. Seth's collections of poetry such as Mappings and Beastly Tales are notable contributions to the Indian English language poetry canon.

Nibedita Sen

Nibedita Sen is a queer Bengali-born writer of speculative fiction. She has been a finalist for the Astounding, Nebula, and Hugo Awards.

Vida Dutton Scudder

She was born in Madurai, India, on December 15, 1861, the only child of David Coit Scudder (of the Scudder family of missionaries in India) and Harriet Louise (Dutton) Scudder. After her father, a Congregationalist missionary, was accidentally drowned in 1862, she and her mother returned to the family home in Boston. Apart from travel in Europe, she attended private secondary schools in Boston, and was graduated from the Boston Girl's Latin School in 1880. Scudder then entered Smith College, where she received her BA degree in 1884.

A. Revathi

A Revathi is a Bangalore-based writer and an activist working for the rights of sexual minorities. She is also a trans woman and belongs to the Hijra community.

R. Raj Rao

Ramachandrapurapu Raj Rao (born 1955) is an Indian writer, poet and teacher of literature who has been described as "one of India's leading gay-rights activists". His 2003 novel The Boyfriend is one of the first gay novels to come from India. Rao was one of the first recipients of the newly established Quebec-India awards.

Sridhar Rangayan

Sridhar Rangayan (also spelt Sridhar Rangaihn or Sridhar Rangayyan; born 2 April 1962) is an Indian filmmaker who has made films with special focus on queer subjects. His queer films, The Pink Mirror and Yours Emotionally, have been considered groundbreaking because of their realistic and sympathetic portrayal of the largely closeted Indian gay community. His film The Pink Mirror remains banned in India by the Indian Censor Board because of its homosexual content.

Rangayan was born in Mandya, Karnataka. As a gay activist, he has been one of the front-rank leaders in the LGBT movement in India and has contributed immensely towards the growth of awareness about sexual minorities in India.

He is a Founder Member and Trustee of The Humsafar Trust, the first gay NGO in India, along with Ashok Row Kavi. He served on its board till January 2013. He also designed and edited India's first gay magazine Bombay Dost between 1999–2003.

Bindumadhav Khire

Bindumadhav Khire is an LGBTQ+ rights activist from Pune, Maharashtra, India. He runs Samapathik Trust, an NGO which works on LGBTQ+ issues in Pune district. He founded Samapathik Trust in 2002 to cater the men having sex with men (MSM) community in Pune city. He has also written on the issues on sexuality in fictional and non-fictional forms including edited anthologies, plays, short-stories, and informative booklets.

Saleem Kidwai

Saleem Kidwai (7 August 1951 – 30 August 2021) was a medieval historian, gay rights activist, and translator. Kidwai was a Professor of History at Ramjas College, University of Delhi until 1993 and thereafter an independent scholar.

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wandaofkrakoa · 2 years

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goodbye, my little rockstar.

eddie munson x male reader.

eddie meets his fateful end in the upside down, dying in your arms.

the dark atmosphere of the upside down had prevented you from seeing things clearly. the smell of it had seemed to gotten to you, but nonetheless you continued to battle the swarm of demo-bats outside the upside down version of eddie’s apartment. you had some plaid armor carefully crafted by your boyfriend eddie, and stood behind both him and dustin as they faced the corner of the trailer, staring at the ceiling.

“are there any other vents they can crawl through?” you questioned, causing eddie to pause. the scuttling from the rooftops went into an eerie silence as sweat ran down your cheeks. dustin seemed focused on eddie as well, quivering with the passing moments.

“oh shit.”

eddie would bolt into his bed room, pushing open the door. the vent in his bedroom would cave in, the cauldron seeping in through the room. eddie pulled the door open, walking back to the common area in the trailer.

“we need to get outta here. take the exits, i’ll be right behind you.” his voice was shaky, but you trusted him. dustin would hoist himself onto the rope leading into the normal world as the demo-bats pounded eddie’s bedroom door. you clenched eddie’s hands, rubbing your thumbs over his knuckles in an attempt to soothe your nerves. he clenched even tighter not wanting to let go.

dustin would fall in through the portal, and eddie let you go ahead of you, holding your waist to lift you up onto the rope. you pulled, climbing with all your light until the force of normal gravity hit you, causing you to fall in through eddie’s mattress. looking up, eddie began to climb as well. you had a glimmer of hope as he made his way up the rope, but he paused. something caught his eye.

“eddie hurry up!” you commanded, eddie drawing his attention back to you. you both locked eyes, watching him mouth the words you didn’t want, nor needed to hear right now.

“i love you.”

in a quick movement, eddie detached from the rope and grabbed something to slice the bedsheet, the remains falling onto you. your heart sank to your gut with the words, knowing how this would end if you didn’t intervene. the pit feeling in your stomach that had been there for so long had began to bloom, so now, it was time for you to do everything in your power to prevent it. you immediately stood up, watching eddie retreat out of view from the upside down portal.

“i’m going back,” you told dustin. “he can’t be in there alone, i’m going back. i know you don’t want to, but you have to stay here, okay?” dustin would open his mouth to speak, but he had no words to say. “if it goes south… don’t come back for us.” tears welled up in the both of your eyes as your voice became unsteady, the plan having deviated a long time ago. it wouldn’t be a good ending for you three, but if it could save the world, your lives may be worth it.

you grabbed a small chair and placed it just a few feet in front of the upside down portal. you gauged your odds of reaching the top of the trailer to be able to climb in, which weren’t too low. getting a running start, you stepped up onto the chair, leaping up into the upside down, holding onto the roof. crawling in, you’d instantly be hit with the effects of reverse gravity. your body would land into the floor with a heavy thump, and the sound of something cracking in your body. letting out a groan of pain, dustin’s face had one of concern, but he knew to stay back. carrying one of the spears littered in the room, you used it to keep yourself stable, limping out into the upside down.

“eddie!”

you called out as you stepped onto his front lawn, witnessing the large amount of bats swarm eddie in such numbers you didn’t even think possible. they surrounded eddie, taunting and occasionally swatting at him. your leg was possibly broken, or at least injured, but you needed to save him, you had to. eddie couldn’t possibly die here, he couldn’t and he didn’t deserved to. eddie deserved better than that. still while injured, you pulled yourself into a light sprint, using the spear as leverage to take you across the trailer park.

eddie’s screams echoed around you. no matter how you ran, you weren’t fast enough. too much pressure had been placed on the spear and it caused you to lose your balance, falling over in pain. you looked up at eddie, hot tears streaming down your face. you crawled, the ground clinging to your fingernails as you did your best to make it to eddie, not caring about your own well being. you didn’t make it too far until you heard the sounds of the bats dropping.

somehow, probably a sign that the plan had worked, the bats all dropped out of the sky like flies, landing dead onto the ground. eddie laid still in the pile of them, putting you back into focus. the staff would help you regain your stance, hopping to eddie as he coughed up blood. you gently laid before him, pulling his injured head upon your lap as you examined his injuries. the bats chewed mainly on his stomach, the blood being a stark contrast to the dark colorings of the upside down. you tried your best to cover the injuries, but they were too fatal to do anything.

“you’re gonna be fine!”

“you’re gonna be fine eddie don’t worry!”

“stay with me it’s gonna be okay!”

you repeated the cycle of words as you kept investigating the injuries. eddie began to speak, but you were too focused on attempting to save eddie’s life to hear it. wrapping bandages around his waist, you’d eventually snap out of your focused state and come back to reality. eddie wasn’t going to make it, and that… was the hardest thing to accept. you turned to look at him, blood covering his lips as he gave his devious smile at you. eddie was very good at making you comfortable even in the most dangerous situations, reluctantly causing you to smile. tears began to spill harder from your eyes as you held him in your arms.

“i did… good, didn’t i m/n? i-i didn’t run away this time, i… i stayed!”

the tears began to leak harder out of your eyes if that was somehow even possible. eddie looked up to you, staring into your eyes.

“i wouldn’t t-take back a minute of the time… we’ve spent together..”

“i wouldn’t either eddie.”

“i told y-you it was gonna be my year… i told you!”

for possibly the last time, you rocked eddie in your lap as your fingers played in his hair, rubbing him gently. your legs began to shake from the emotions you felt right now.

“i’ve loved you even before we made hellfire… even before we even spoke. just looking at you made me fall instantly. i-i don’t know what to do eddie! what do i do?!”

eddie continued smiling as your fingers danced around in his hair. you used to do this whenever your nerves got to you as he strummed his guitar.

“t-take care of d-dustin for me. sa-y it.”

“i’ll… take care of dustin i p-promise eddie.”

a brief silence fell over you, needing time to accept what was going to happen. you couldn’t focus on anything, roaming through memories upon memories you had made with eddie for the time you knew him regardless of whether they were bad or not.

“i love you m/n.”

“i love you too eddie. i’ll love you forever.”

those were his last words. you could feel his heartbeat in your legs slow down to a crawl until it eventually ended. you couldn’t move, stuck in shock. you guys weren’t supposed to end up like this. this was never the plan. eddie was gone. and with his death took a part that may never come back again.

#stranger things x male reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #eddie stranger things #lgbtwriter #eddie and dustin #dustin stranger things

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