#store manager verse
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Standard Operating Procedures 1.05 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: It's a normal Sunday night. You're just going over to have dinner, smoke, and listen to music. It's not a date. What could possibly go wrong?
Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.04
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining, alcohol and drug use (wine, beer, and weed), R has a minor panic attack while high, fluff, lighthearted smut (petting/groping/dry humping), minor angst, misunderstandings and miscommunication, driving probably a little under the influence, slight anachronism (slapping the bag)
Note: Big note for this one if you've read the most recent installations of SMVerse that I've posted...this is NOT in chronological order. SM and Eddie are not together in this one, we are rewinding back before Closing Time. This chapter and the next one are both a little longer and have been lingering in my head for quite a long time. Almost a year. So without further ado, please enjoy SOP 1.05.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
Sundays were your favorite days, hands down.
They sort of always had been, even before moving to Hawkins. Now, though, you had an extra special reason why they were your favorite.
Sundays meant that you could be yourself after you clocked out. They meant standing in the mirror and wiping away the layers of glitter eyeshadow and scented nail polish off. They meant shedding the overly sparkly jewelry from work and the trendy clothes from the JCPenney or Madigan's Juniors department that were definitely cut for a teenage body.
No matter how young you still were, you just weren't sixteen anymore.
You could finally breathe a little easier.
No more Dress to Impress, no more preppy popular girl, no more customer service voice.
Sundays meant freedom.
Lately, part of that freedom meant walking out of the store, taking the most freeing breath you could, and walking right up to your crush best friend so you could spend those last few dying hours of the weekend together.
Shooting the breeze, laughing, and getting to know one another. Getting to really see one another.
Tonight, though, there was just this cloud hanging over you as you stood in the store's bathroom after hours and shucked off the plaid vest and fashionably unmatched skirt you'd chosen for the day in favor of a t-shirt and comfy stirrup pants.
Summer was over, school was back in session, and you hadn't gotten to see Eddie as much as you normally did.
Which, in the grander scheme of things, a lot of things changed with the new school year starting: a bunch of your associate's schedules changed, a few of them even left town for college, and business started to slow a little during the week for the first time since the store opened.
Still, you missed him.
It felt weird from practically seeing him every day to only seeing him in passing or on the weekends.
What if he didn't want to be friends anymore?
Well, that was just silly. Some remnant of fear about the fickleness of your friends memories in childhood. Besides, the first shift after school started back up, he immediately came running to your store and talked your ear off about the new kids that he forced to join Hellfire.
"God, they're such losers," he reminisced with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. "They have so much potential. I can't wait for you to meet them."
Tonight though...
Tonight was like any normal night; you were getting together after the mall closed and picking up pizza.
However, instead of any of your usual haunts or shenanigans in and around Hawkins, Eddie insisted you come over to his place. Totally normal.
"And we can smoke," he added as an afterthought.
"You know I don't smoke Eddie," you reminded him. "My grandpa and his crackly lungs? I've taken him to enough doctor's appointments."
"Doesn't stop you from sucking up the air around me when I'm having a cigarette on break. No. I mean smoke. Reefer. Weed. Jesus, don't act ignorant Miss Goody Two Shoes."
"Excuse me," you choked. "How am I Miss Goody Two Shoes?"
"Because," he began with dramatic emphasis. "For all of your stories about garage beers and parties that your work friends dragged you to, you've never mentioned partaking in any sort of illicit substances. You're being obtuse on purpose or you're afraid."
You were caught like a deer in the headlights.
"I...I'm not."
And you weren't; it wasn't fear. It was just...inexperience.
Back home you were always careful, even when you hung around friends from school or work; with your overprotective father and uptight mother and two brothers who wouldn't hesitate to rat you out if they found out you broke some kind of rule? It would be over.
So you never got too wild at parties. Disheveled clothes could be straightened, and you could pretend that swollen lips were just a side effect of getting a little sick. You never drank more beer than whatever made you feel a little floaty if you weren't sleeping over at a friends. And you never smoked weed.
Ok so it was fear, in a way; residual fear. Just not the way Eddie thought.
"Hey, don't worry," Eddie said in the most understanding way he could. "You just tell me and I'll drop it, if you're afraid."
You wanted to tell him, wanted to explain it, but in a moment of reflection and wanting to assuage his worries, defiance got the better of you and you told him that you weren't afraid and it would all be fine.
You were going to be with him; you never needed to be afraid when you were with him.
Now though, staring at yourself in the mirror as you got ready to go and meet Eddie you realized you might have made a mistake.
Hanging out with your crush friend alone at his place? Fine. Sitting close on the couch as you ate pizza and listened to music? Cool. Drinking and smoking together, knowing that you got a little bit chatty when you loosened up a little bit under the influence? Uhm.
What could possibly go wrong?
---
The spread that you and Eddie had created was impressive.
Pizza and a six pack and red vines and...and...and...
Eddie was usually very thorough when it came to providing snacks or planning outings where you could get a nice little treat together. Tonight it was partially your fault.
You'd originally planned just to drive to his place after work and the pizza would be delivered, but he said that when he'd called to place the order at Lou's--large pepperoni and a box of cannoli--they told him that the delivery driver was out. Takeout only.
But then he also forgot to stop at Bradley's for soda.
So you offered to go to Bradley's while he picked up the pizza, and you might have gone overboard.
Soda and a box of wine and peanut m&m's and...and...and...
"And you say that I'm bad," Eddie scoffed as you walked in, arms laden with shopping bags.
"Excuse me, this is the once in a blue moon you let me pay for anything, I'm gonna take advantage of it."
Wayne was still home getting ready for his shift when you got there and he simply shook his head at your bickering with a fond smile, then pilfered a little of everything for his own dinner before leaving you both to it.
Once he was gone, the festivities began.
You were both overzealous, talking a mile a minute over each other about your days as you set up for the night. Eddie divvied out food--creating a plate that reminded you of the Peanuts' Thanksgiving feast, overflowing with multicolored candies and popcorn and pizza slices--as you took care of the drinks.
You were a little smug that you got to teach Eddie something during these little Sunday night not-dates for once.
"Where did you learn this?" he asked skeptically as you ripped into the cardboard box. "What even is Franzia? Sounds fancy."
"It is the least fancy thing you can get," you grinned maniacally and freed the floppy plastic bag full of pink liquid from its confines. "Honestly I should have thrown it in the fridge but it's fine. You can put it with some coke; it'd probably taste better anyway."
He made a face.
"I'll just have a beer."
"Oh my--Eddie! Live a little." You settled the bag on the coffee table and gestured to it. "You don't have to drink it...chug a beer, I don't care...but you need to slap it."
He huffed and shuffled across the carpet on his knees to settle beside you.
"Is this a Claire's thing?" he asked, he looked up at you through his bangs.
"No it's not a--well...no. It doesn't matter! My old store manager, Jen, made us do it whenever we went to parties and hung out at her place. It's fun."
"Why does this feel like a lie?"
You reached out and smacked your hand against the plastic, listened to the liquid slosh inside. He let out a long suffering sigh but gestured for you to go ahead and he settled on the floor as you squealed with glee.
Eddie popped the little tab on the spout and the cheap wine poured freely into his mouth; he maintained eye contact with you the whole time, even as he choked on the unfamiliar taste of the pink zinfandel.
When you'd hung out with Jen and your coworkers and friends, it was just...a silly thing. Now, though, it was just you and Eddie; you stood over him with the bag gently held in your hands over his mouth and his hand rested on your calf as he drank. It was tense and intimate and as you started feeling a little hot under the collar, you wondered if this was a mistake.
Regardless, when he'd had his fill, he shut the spout and raised his hand and slapped the bag so hard it soared out of your grasp and across the living room.
You both burst out laughing as it swished and sloshed with a pronounced glorp on impact with the floor, and Eddie collapsed against your legs as the giddiness got the better of him.
"Ok, that's better than a keg stand." He looked up at you and wiped a hand over his mouth. "Blagh...probably gonna need that coke if I have any more though. Your turn, sweetheart."
Then the tables were turned, but unlike Eddie, you stood toe to toe with him as he held the bag for you.
To avoid the tense eye contact, you kept yours closed as you pulled mouthful after mouthful from the bag. You almost felt a little smug; you'd always been good at this, despite how awful the wine burps were gonna get after. You knew Eddie's competitive nature--always seeing who could finish a blizzard from DQ first and giving himself a brain freeze in the process--so you were hoping to last a little longer, hit the bag a little harder, and get him to concede.
You counted down in your head and finally when you couldn't take the heartburn the wine caused any longer, you shut the spout and released it, ready for victory.
Of course, opening your eyes provided nothing of the sort.
Eddie stood there, inches away from you; his pupils were blown and he was breathing a little heavily and for a split second you thought to ask if he was ok.
Until he leaned a little closer.
Close enough where you could smell the laundry detergent and the general amalgamation of mall scents coming off of him.
Then you noticed that his eyes were locked onto…your lips?
Was he gonna kiss you?
You already thought…well…and in the van the other week? When he licked frosting off your hand? You'd thought...
Except that was the thing, you always thought, you never acted. Too stuck in your head weighing and judging the options and if you could just do something about it. If you could just lean forward a little, you could stop worrying and have your answer right?
And if it wasn't meant to be and things were weird? If he didn't actually mean to try and kiss you? You worked retail; you could bullshit with the best of them if worse came to worse.
Then you'd just pretend that your heart didn't ache from rejection for the duration of your friendship. You were already familiar with disappointment; this would be no different.
Alright, that's it, you weren't gonna chance it anymore. All the worrying you did back at the store was enough. You were just gonna kiss him. Just lean forward; just go. Just go. One, two...two and a half...
Eddie's eyelids fluttered a little bit, and your heart clenched in hope, until he leaned away and cleared his throat.
The wine bag was tossed onto the coffee table and Eddie gestured to the plates he'd prepared.
"So, pizza?"
---
Music was the next event of the night.
And the weed.
Funny how all of your anxiety over smoking flew out the window when you were anxious about something else.
Because you just couldn't get your feelings out of your head after Eddie walked away from a kiss like that.
Was it even going to be a kiss? Or was it just the awkwardness of your positions in that situation? Were you overthinking the overthinking?
On and on those thoughts spiraled.
Until Eddie said he was going to get his stereo to start your comprehensive education of metal.
"We really don't have all night Eddie," you said and threw a balled up napkin at him as he fiddled with his tapes.
"Ok, maybe not fully comprehensive," he held his hands up in surrender. "Nothing sounds better than vinyl and I have all of that at Rick's. And my mom's records. You wanna talk about classics? We've gotta spend a whole weekend there."
He put a tape into the slot and hit play and the room was immediately filled with guitar riffs and singing and shouting; he turned the volume down immediately.
"I've gotta give you the whole history sweetheart," he explained. "So you've gotta hear me too. This song's not so important...I'll turn it up when we get to the good part."
Of course, Eddie's music history lesson...started with him.
"Picture this," he said, arms waving as he walked over to his school things that had been haphazardly thrown in a corner of the room: a wilted canvas backpack, a black binder, and a dented metal lunchbox. "11-year old me, fresh after my mom's funeral and everyone she knew was coming up to us but I refused to talk. Wayne kept making excuse after excuse. But Rick, bless him, said 'gotta make him cry.'"
And on he went as he spilled the contents of the dented lunchbox on the coffee table and began the fine work of rolling a joint.
"Took me to the record store, let me pick out whatever I wanted. Of course I chose Sad Wings of Destiny because the art was cool. Little did I know that would change the course of my life forever."
You didn’t know what to focus on and that made you spiral a little bit further. The words, the music, his lips and his fingers as he followed steps that he seemed to know but didn't feel the need to elaborate on were all very appealing targets; the music and his story was what was important here though and you made the attempt.
He told his story in a way that only Eddie Munson knew how to—arms flailing, minute details, expressions and voices and everything you loved admired about him. He took a moment to swap cassettes and crank up the volume before he fell onto the couch beside you in a mess of cushions and limbs and hair.
"I would say ladies first," he began as he presented the joint to you. He then stuck it between his lips and continued talking around it. "But I'm nothing if not a gentleman and I need to teach you how to do this. It's a little different than cigarettes."
It was a comprehensive lesson and you'd gotten the hang of it quickly, but the proximity did nothing to help calm your nerves; Eddie's knee touching yours, his face and hands so close to yours as he held the joint to your lips, then one hand your shoulder as he soothed the cough that escaped you after your first hit, and finally the way he inhaled along with you as you took another.
Want burned in your lungs along with the smoke, but it didn't leave you when you finally exhaled.
You were very much looking forward to the light and mellow feeling that Eddie promised once the weed hit your system.
"Until then," he grinned and took another hit himself before dropping the smoldering stick into a nearby ashtray. "We just dive into the mind of the great Ronnie James Dio."
You rested back against the cushions and turned your head to really watch him; it was strange just...observing him. You had never done it like this before, close and quiet at this distance. Your time together was always spent with conversation and laughter, your observations and mental notes about him done in little snapshots as he moved through life like a blur.
Now you got to experience the simplicity of his presence in private and the addictive frequency that he emitted.
It was nice.
You watched the way his lashes brushed against his skin as he melted into the sofa beside you and closed his eyes. The way his plush lips pursed and then stretched as he hummed along to the music. You closed your own eyes for a second as he matched the sharpness of the lyrics with his voice, hushed and then shrill, and then hushed again.
And when you opened them back up to watch him some more, he was watching you and practically vibrating.
Your heart skipped a beat...
"Sweetheart," he reached out and touched your wrist. "You ok?"
Wait...he wasn't vibrating.
You were.
Then you noticed that your heart skipped many beats, then the beats suddenly tripled, and then it all slowed again, pounding harder and faster in your chest than you believed to be possible.
Did your chest hurt? Or were you imagining it?
It felt like the few times you ran the mile back in high school, but you hadn't run.
Had you?
Your legs felt like jelly. Your arms too.
So you must have run...but when?
No wait, you were forgetting something. Your chest, your heart, your lungs. You had to focus on them first, you needed them to live.
You tried to fix it all by taking a great gulp of air in--if you felt like you'd just run the mile, surely catching your breath would fix it--but you found that it didn't fix anything. In fact, you seemed to lose even more control of your body. You floundered, breathing heavily over and over, quicker and quicker to try and get a hold of yourself.
And the panic set in, unlike anything you'd ever experienced before in your life.
Your consciousness became untethered from your body and you sank deep within yourself. Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Only instead of a rabbit hole, the you that existed in your mind fell away from your eyes and deeper into your skull then out the back of it and into the so-soft cushions of the couch.
But this wasn't sinking, this wasn't melting. This was being buried alive.
You remembered Eddie’s taunting before, about being afraid of smoking. Why hadn’t you told him that you didn’t want to do this? Why hadn’t you told him you were afraid? You were a stubborn idiot and now you’d die here, buried amongst pilling fabric and lost change and lint and a few cheerios that were stuck between the cushions.
You would die here on Eddie's couch...
"Eddie!" you practically sobbed and reached out for him, remembering suddenly that he was there with you. Why wasn't he doing anything to keep you from sinking? "Help!"
"It's ok hey!" He grabbed your hands now and pulled you back from the void, hooked the tether back onto you and saved you from the depths. "It's ok, breathe. No, not like that. Slowly, deep breaths with me. In and hold it and out. Whoooooo."
You focused on the whooshing sound of the air that escaped his lips and you tried to make the same sound yourself. Over and over, slowly as he guided you.
"That's it," he smiled. "Good girl."
You slowly grounded yourself through Eddie, escaping whatever horrible clutches had just grasped at you. You began to feel better, lighter; more centered within yourself but…nicer?
Had that awful feeling been the high? Or was this?
Maybe everyone got caught by a demon when they smoked and then if they escaped they felt a nice light flutter and instead of a heavy beating heart that threatened to burst out of their chests, they felt...silly. Happy. Bubbly.
Like you did whenever you were around Eddie.
Only now it was better, and it was all getting better as he spoke to you and smiled and wiped at the few tears that had escaped your eyes.
Breathe in, breathe out. Good girl.
You kept breathing and staring at his lips.
Breathe in.
Lips.
Breathe out.
Eddie's lips.
Good girl.
You thought about earlier...minutes or hours you couldn't tell for sure...about the way Eddie leaned close to you and almost kissed you. All the worry you'd had about not being able to make a move because you were thinking so much you couldn't act. Here you were now, thinking again. When his lips were right there and you could do something about it.
With one last shaky breath, bubbly infatuation flooded your body; you smiled and said one final farewell to your nervous thoughts, and you surged forward. Your hands shook his away and grabbed at his face, as your lips slid clumsily against his.
Your noses bumped and teeth clacked painfully but it didn't quite matter because the sparks that emanated from your joined lips shot through your limbs and made you both feel tingly and pleasant. At least, you assumed they did for Eddie because he let out a sound that was somewhere in between a giggle and a moan.
But he didn't push you away; in fact, his hands clapped over yours and smushed them further into his cheeks.
He wanted you to kiss him. He wanted to kiss you. He...liked you.
It was a euphoric moment of joy and realization, but your need to put your lips on him outweighed that. So you tried again. Gentler this time.
Eddie followed your lead for a little while as you pulled him towards you; one of his hands found your waist as the other arm rounded your shoulders, and he became your anchor to prevent you from being buried by the sofa again. As thanks for his chivalry, you gifted him with soft caresses, quick pecks, and sharp little nips.
Your fingers developed a mind of their own, and seemed to love his cheekbones and getting tangled in his hair, although they couldn't quite decide which they loved more so back and forth they went.
The rest of you, though--mind and body--just basked in the kissing.
You were good at kissing; you liked kissing. And you liked kissing Eddie, more than you ever thought you would. Kissing under the light, buzzy influence of a beer or two was nice, and it might have been the weed or it could have just been Eddie himself, but this was nicer. Floaty and tingly and transcendent.
The music itself had stopped, but Eddie himself continued to provide the soundtrack to the night. Instead of guitars and vocals and pounding drums, it was a symphony of soft hums and sweet sighs.
Eddie, who often pilfered bites and nibbles off your plate and cited that he was a "growing boy," seemed to prove that his hunger was greater than yours the way he bit and nibbled at you too, appetite growing the longer you kissed. The pace you set no longer fed him the way he wanted and he started to feast a little more; that was a side-effect of being high, right? Hunger. Insatiable hunger?
His mouth pulled away from yours and started to explore your jaw, the column of your neck, the junction between your neck and shoulder. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his attention, of his lips and hands as he gave and took, of the floaty feeling that settled comfortably in your limbs now, all the nerves of the day forgotten.
Before you knew it, your own hunger grew as well. You wanted him closer, needed more of him now that you had him.
You let yourself drift back along the pillows until you were laying comfortably and pulled Eddie along with you; one hand still lingered in his hair as the other fisted the collar of his shirt and got him right where you needed him to be.
Of course, you couldn't just take without giving as well, and as he settled onto you, your hips bucked up into him. You both moaned--savoring the proximity and delicious friction that his jeans and your leggings provided--and then giggled together as he collapsed on top of you, unprepared for the sudden surge of delight.
His breath fanned across your neck and jaw as he laughed breathlessly, and your hands caressed his head and shoulders fondly as you mirrored him.
He strained his neck a little to look you in the eye; his grin accentuated all the lines in his face, and for a second he struggled to form words. His mouth opened and closed silently and then he licked his lips to compose himself. The next thing you knew, his hand was coming up and squeezing one of your breasts with an exaggerated "honk" as he fell back against the other one and pressed his mouth to the swell over your shirt.
Back into the throes of unadulterated giggles you both went as he continued to honk and kiss and suck at exposed skin.
One of the highlights of the whole night was when he blew a raspberry against your neck; the feeling of goosebumps that erupted along your body and the spittle that sprayed across your skin would be a sensation you would remember and cherish forever.
"No fair," you whined and shifted against him again, both to protest the fact that you currently couldn't return the favor of all the attention he was giving you. Nevertheless, you treated him to the attention that you could, and you bucked your hips up again, only to be met with the feeling of him grinding down onto you.
Giggles began to mingle with desperate pants as he began to shift against you and settled into the cradle of your thighs; he grew harder and ground and rutted against the covered softness of you, faster and sharper, and your body eagerly responded, wanting to be as close to him as you could. As close as either of you could honestly fathom at this point, feeling too good like this to consider that there was more pleasure to be had if time went on and clothes came off.
Sunday nights together were truly gleeful and hedonistic, and tonight was no different. However, instead of snacks and arguments accentuated by the sounds of light-hearted talk and laughter, it was your writhing bodies and mingled breaths that took center stage; the two of you never stopped, only paused for your lips to smack wetly against one another, for your nails to rake through his hair and scratch against his scalp, and for him to grasp at your hips to pull you closer and closer as he drove you higher and higher.
"Eddie, I'm--" you broke away from him and keened, and he responded with a husky "uh-huh" and pressed his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes closed as you felt the pleasure building between the two of you, as he moaned and your toes curled...
As keys jingled in the lock of the front door of the trailer.
...and suddenly it was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the both of you and you froze, all thought of completion forgotten.
Your eyes shot open and you stared into Eddie's panic-filled, pleasure-blown pupils. He shifted sharply and then paused, almost like a glitch, and then he was off you, across to the other side of the couch in the blink of an eye. You watched, dumbstruck, as he panted heavily to control his breathing, and he held his head in shaking hands.
"No, no," he muttered. "Shit. Shit."
You reacted quickly as the door started to squeak open--throwing your legs over the edge of the sofa to sit upright as your hands clumsily fixed your disheveled clothes--and Wayne walked in. You took the extra second as he grumbled at the threshold and fiddled with his keys to look at Eddie, hoping for some kind of...secret conspiratorial smile or...or heated gaze...just something but he refused to look at you.
Suddenly, all of the good feelings that had flooded you since the moment that Eddie had chased your panic away...they vanished. The sweet giggles and shared pleasure were gone; even the love bites you were sure Eddie had left behind stung instead of blissfully buzzed.
And in their place, an acute clarity of what the two of you had just done.
"You wouldn't believe the mess I walked into tonight," Wayne chuckled with disbelief as he finally shut the door.
No kidding Wayne, you thought bitterly.
"Some of the machines were down when I got there and it took a few hours to figure out the problem. Some rusted old part..." On and on he chattered as you spiraled, stuck in your thoughts once again.
You and Eddie, Eddie and you. You and your secret crush...had just...on his couch. You and your best friend, your only friend in town...got high and kissed and canoodled and now he refused to even look at you.
You didn't know if it was the weed again or if it was just you, but you could see stars in the corners of your eyes and you felt lightheaded as the panic settled back in. And it only got worse the longer you sat there and tried to get some kind of sign from Eddie, only to be left with nothing. Such a stark contrast from just moments ago where you were giving and taking and responding to one another so freely.
Giving and taking...was that really what it was? Or did you just...do this to him? Do this to the both of you? Effectively tank your friendship the way you'd worried about since the first time you'd hung out and Eddie had specifically said it wasn't a date?
You abruptly got to your feet and Wayne stopped his chatter and looked at you questioningly.
"I..." you felt your throat closing up with emotion. "I just forgot I have a really important call first thing tomorrow. I...need to go!"
Eddie finally looked at you with wide, shocked eyes.
Were those tears? Oh god...
"I...it was nice to see you Wayne, sorry..." you scrambled to grab your bag from where you'd tossed it by the door and then looked back at both Munsons. Back and forth at Wayne's curious expression...and Eddie's devastated one. "I'm...sorry."
And you bolted out the door, into your car, and back across town to the lonely confines of your apartment, where you would wish for a second chance at Sunday all over again.
Because until tonight, Sundays had always been your favorite days.
Next Part: Leave of Absence
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#store manager verse#Eddie munson smut#stranger things fic#stranger things Eddie munson
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Conversation with a Starbucks barista:
Me: hey did you watch the new Spiderverse movie
Him: yeah I loved it!
Me: what's your opinion on Spider-Man 2099
Him: oh my god
Both of us in sync with our hands making the exact same gesture: he's so HOT
#the life and times of muchy#just to be clear I go to the Starbucks branch every day and I'm friends with almost everyone in the store LOL#and the person i was talking to is the manager of this branch#anyway#miguel o'hara#spiderverse#atsv#spider man: across the spider verse
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nix distrusting cars/most vehicles (knows they can be useful/aren't inherently dangerous) but probably an lot of his clumsy accidents revolve from them for him personally
*especially if they are just stationary, turned off*
it is very funny given when it comes to motorcycles he's enamored by them/would be far more willing to drive-operate one (it's likely the ease of which he could bail+it's more closer to running/walking+flight and the less closed in feeling)
#<< falling apart at the seams i cant deny >> headcanons#(getting run over won't kill him but it'll sure hurt: source every single time it happens and he thinks its written into his soul)#(flying into them- it's even more amusing if you know apoclypse moving vehicles arent common etc so he's just crashing into abandoned ones)#(can manage in an emergency/knows how in some verses etc but doesnt even like being an passenger often)#(nix in modern verses like 'i got clipped 20 times when i dared go to the store before the am hours and nearly run over twice')#(as if it's just the most casual thing ever to announce)#(characterization babey *angelic idiot was gifted the inability to be around motorized vehicles without getting hurt*)
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I CANT STOP CACKLING AT LILIA AND THE SILLY STORIES OF HOW HE RAISED SILVER 😭😭 It made me wonder about Lilia raising a child he has with you, and how you react to his parenting tactics...
Lilias dorm card spoilers underneath <3
aldskfjal;siej the way that even sebek looks at Silver like "How..did you make it this far?" And Silver equally as confused as he is. And when he gave the bat milk directly from the jug, it sounds like the bat basically took a bath in it... Something similar happening to Silver. Ugh I love this family, they are so chaotic it's hilarious. How Silver and Sebek know more about the technicalities it's actually amusing, esspecially Silver, who grew up with Lilia's parenting skills... I like to assume MC had no clue this took place, and came in blind to his antics once they decided to have a child of their own...
MC- Lilia.
Lilia- oh isn't our darling baby the cutest?!
MC- Lilia, you cannot spoon-feed her real food yet. W...where did you get that food?
Lilia- I made it while you were bathing!
MC- ...And I see she also needed a diaper change? what's with the..paper towels?
Lilia- Oh, right. It appears we ran out of diapers! I had to improvise. I'm quite proud of myself how it turned out, really!
MC, sighing- We might have to start investing in reusable diapers if this keeps up...
Lilia- Reuseable?
MC- Yes, reus- Lilia! Put the spoon down, she is too little to feed off of solid foods! *mumbling* much less be able to stomach your cooking...
Lilia- It is not solid! It may appear that way, but I was certain to blend it into a milky consistency.
MC, eyeing the food curiously- ...Huh, you're right. Well, you can't feed her this anyway. She should be having milk right now
Lilia- I assure you it's much healthier and more nutritious than milk- ah...do not look at me like that my dear, remember I am a child-rearing veteran! ...
MC- ...
Lilia- ....
Lilia- I will go get the milk~ No need to glare at me as such. You know, raising children shouldn't be so black and white! Sometimes you need to improvise~
MC- ...Uh huh... anyways. I'm going to get changed to go out to the store and grab a few things. Can you handle her?
Lilia- Of course I can! Your questions wound me~ Do not worry your little head. I am well versed in how to raise a human child!
-moments later-
MC- Alright. Why is my baby cover head to toe in milk.
Lilia- Isn't she just the cutest sight to see? I handed her the mug and she practically poured it all over herself! What a silly little girl.
MC- ...Where's her diaper?
Lilia- Ah! The paper towel seems to have dissolved with the amount of milk soiling it... A shame. I was proud of how well It turned out.
MC, sighing and shaking their head with a smile and turning to the kitchen table- Can you keep an eye on them while I go to the store?
Silver, nodding- Of course.
MC- How...how did you manage to make it this far?
Silver- ...often times a mystery to me as well, but I am thankful I am still here.
MC, laughing and turning back to Lilia, who is giving the second mug of milk to his daughter- Ah...what charm you have, my lovely husband. I will return soon.
Lilia gives you a kiss and you head off, with a bright smile on your lips. What a silly fae...but you know things will turn out alright.
#Twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland headcannons#twst headcannons#Lilia#lilia x reader#Lilia vanrouge X reader#Lilia vanrouge headcannons
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"Under the stage, below the platform" (𝐁.𝐂)
🎧Chase Atlantic - Heaven and Back
“The feeling of pleasure with the thrill of not being caught was so naughty, so wrong.”
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧
𝐭𝐚𝐠: 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧! 𝐚𝐮, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭🔞
𝐖.𝐂 𝟒.𝟐𝐤
ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐏𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲, 𝐒𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐜𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠)
“She looks good in that skirt.” Chan’s thoughts were half rational and half PornHub. He was not the kind to lose his cool that easily, being the leader of an unruly but lovable band that behaved like children for half of his life, he was well versed in keeping calm but lord! Were you testing him today?
The crew had given the boys a holiday under supervision. In light of their fame, they had to select an amusement park where they wouldn’t be disturbed too much. The crowd at this park was present but thankfully scattered. It was just the managers, the boys, and a few friends, no cameras, no scripts, and no retakes, they had the freedom to just be themselves without the pressure. However, this was not necessarily a good thing especially for Chan because if the boys were loud on camera, they were supersonic off camera sometimes completely forgetting their idol image. The perks were their VIP passes which ensured they did not stay at one spot for long enough to be noticed.
Some of the boys invited their s/os’ like Chan while the single members of the group took the liberty to bring their closest friends. It was like an extended hangover, after the initial awkwardness of the meet-up and introduction, the atmosphere shifted from bashful laughter to free laughter. Since for some of them, it was a date the team decided to form small groups or go as couples until they regrouped for lunch at the nearby place. This was the most normal they had been in their recent schedules.
You and Chan decided to venture off alone, going through the highlight rides before it got too crowded and then slowly making your way across one end of the park to the other. It was so refreshing as both of you spent time laughing and wandering in and out of stores and souvenir shops. Your laughter increased tenfold when both of heard what sounded like Changbin’s scream as the ride rose into the air and dropped. The ride read DareDevil and Chan's phone lit up with a notification, a selfie - in which Lee Know was smirking wearing a devil horns headband, Changbin crying in the background, and Jeongin losing his shit from laughter. You both stared at his phone the group chat alive from the incoming messages, you sipped from Chan’s drink, his focus turning to yours while your attention was on the phone.
Your eyes crinkled at the edges as the grin never left your face, a soft laugh escaped as the phone lit up with new messages and more pictures of poor traumatized Binnie. Your lips looked so soft, so plump and bright now resting between your teeth as you tried to control your laughter. You took another sip of the slushie your eyebrows narrowing at the cold.
Just like it narrows when-
“Channie, want ice cream?” You asked looking up to find him staring at you, his face so close to yours his nose almost brushed yours when you lifted your head. He tucked his phone back into his pocket before brushing a stray strand of hair off your face. He nodded, his eyes landing briefly on your lips before he pulled himself together. “Yeah.” He said clearing his throat, you smiled before walking forward, hand in his leading him through the crowd. Chan was a gentleman, your boyfriend treated you like a princess in and out of bed. He was never against PDA but he held himself back from kissing you in public given his responsibilities of his image and most importantly he did not want you to feel overwhelmed not that you ever could with how comfortable you were with him.
It had started with your skirt, Chan loved your body and soul, and he urged you to do the same. He was the happiest when you pushed past your insecurities and dressed up… just for him at times. To him you are the most beautiful being in the room regardless of where you guys are. As of right now, The skirt you had on was soft, not as soft as your plush thighs but soft and fell seductively till your mid-thigh. The ruffles and bows drew attention to the material and your legs… oh your legs Chan thought, ‘Mine’.
The top you wore was tight in all the right places, accentuating the curves of your torso and your breasts peaking out from the sweetheart neckline. The two-layered necklace that adorned your neck completed the look, a surge of possessiveness went through his body after seeing the C imprinted on the choker.
“There it is” you chimed stopping abruptly, Chan almost did not hear you. There was a queue in front of the stand, you hesitated ‘What if someone recognized Chan?’
“We can get it som-” he pulled you forward and stood behind a mother and her kids who were waiting in line. You stood a step behind him.
“Chris, what if someone sees you?” you whispered using his first name, his cock stirred in his pants you only called him that when you were serious or horny.
“I’m wearing a hat, plus I don’t see anyone who could potentially notice us, “ he replied after doing a quick scan of the short queue, a few kids, parents, moms and dads juggling toddlers and some teenage couple.
“Okay,” you sighed, slipping your hand into his and interlocking your fingers, Chan brought your palm to his mouth placing a soft kiss on top. You blushed and smiled brightly up at him and Chan wanted to kiss you so badly. Oh fuck!
You guys talked about this and that, you trying to make sure no one saw Chan and him trying not to bend down and kiss you square on the mouth. He successfully distracted you as you recited the latest drama that was going on in your workplace. You rambled on and on pouting slightly at the memory of the argument and Chan found it adorable. He even thought about pulling you in between the stores and fulfilling his wish. But before he had to go to the bathroom.
“Baby, I need to go use the restroom,” he said placing a discreet kiss on your head. You nodded, the line was slowed down because the machine had stopped. Chan walked away from the line as two workers wrestled with it.
When he returned you were on your phone and there was just one customer in front of you. He took a once over of you again, standing there brows knitted in concentration, one hand playing with your necklace before looking up at him, your face smoothed and a smile broke down, your turn was up as he jogged towards you.
“Hi, what can I get you?” the boy behind the screen asked before his eyes landed on you. His eyes too flicked to your lips for a split second as you skimmed the menu. The appearance of your boyfriend next to you wiped the small smirk of the boy’s face replaced by a disappointed frown. This however did not go unnoticed by Chan.
“I’m thinking blackberry or should I get mango?” you ask breaking the glare he held onto the boy as he looked down at you.
“Get what you want love.” he deadpanned, his curt answer surprised you, but you brushed it off.
“I’ll have the blackberry swirl.” you smiled at the boy who clicked onto his screen, “would you like that to be in a cone or cup?” He returned with an over-enthusiastic smile. “Cone please” he nodded.
“And a salted caramel-” you stated looking at Chan for confirmation, he nodded before smiling to himself giddy that you knew exactly what he craved.
“Cone or cup.” the boy rudely asked eyes turning to Chan, he glared back with the same intensity. “Cup.” Chan would have added a please or a smile under normal circumstances but this guy was being rude.
“Could I interest you in any toppings?” he asked eyes trained on you as you were busy watching the ice cream being scooped.
“I don’t know it's an additional few dollars.”
“It’s on the house.” the boy smiled as his co-worker scooped up the blackberry swirl in a generous amount and placed it on a cone covered with tissue.
“Oh really?” you asked, his smile grew brighter, and Chan clenched his jaw.
“Chocolate sprinkles in the salted caramel please,” you said placing the menu down. The poor boy’s face fell and Chan held back a laughter. He was beaming with pride at the guy's failed attempt. Chan wasn’t usually petty and he understood how people would look for an extra few seconds when you were so beautiful. But it’s the way his eyes trailed your torso every time you weren’t looking and the fact that even though it was established that you were taken he would not back off purposely ignoring and behaving rudely to Chan.
“Right it's 18 dollars,” he said his eyes glancing at your chest when you looked away to retrieve the money from your purse.
“I got it,” you said but before you could pay Chan had given his card.
“Make it 20 dollars,” Chan said smirking, holding out the card in his hand in front of your body, covering your chest and blocking the creeps view.
“I could have paid,” you said pouting, he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close as you guys moved to the pick-up counter
“Funny, you think I would let you pay,” Chan said as your orders were done.
“Thank you,” you said grabbing the sweet treat and licking off the top, before helping Chan get his spoon and you were off.
You guys walked in silence before you started. “But still, you are always paying for everything. The trip, our souvenirs even the VIP bands,” you say eating your ice cream while arguing why you should be allowed to get the ice cream you and Chan are currently devouring. Fully paid.
“Okay first, the trip and VIP bands are from the company, secondly I like paying for everything, not because I have to or I don't think you can pay but because it makes me happy. I don’t want you to pay, just be here with me, I’ll accept that as payment.” He said almost finishing his cup, extending the last bite to you which you gladly accepted.
“That was cheesy and maybe we shouldn’t have ordered the toppings... Does it taste weird or just me?”
“It tastes fine.” He shrugged throwing the cup in the nearby bin, you guys were on this street set of the theme park. The sides are lined with fake stone buildings with wax statues and stores. There were red phone booths and short streetlights on the path you both walked.
“Speaking of weird, Channie did you feel the dude was being a bit rude?” You asked halfway through your cone.
“Yeah, maybe a bit,” he said holding your hand in the process.
“A little huh? You looked like you wanted to shoot lasers at him,” you stated, he looked baffled.
“You noticed?” he asked you giggled at how shy your boyfriend seemed now.
“Baby, he was being weird I honestly wanted to cancel when he was rude to you. I’m not that clueless you know. I saw you glare at him.” you guys had stopped walking, Chan did not how he felt. Silly? Proud? Turned on?
“It was kind of hot.” you winked and that was the last straw, Chan pulled you between two fake buildings into an alleyway.
“Chan-” you gasped but he had his lips on yours before another word. He tasted like caramel without the weird aftertaste of the toppings. His kisses were fervent, hot, and desperate.
“Princess. wanted. To. kiss. From. before.” he said in between kisses, his hands fervently grabbing your body. Your waist, your hips, your butt, your hands, your face.
“Me too,” you said hand grabbing his collar the other balancing your almost finished ice cream.
“I wanted to kiss you too,” you said kissing his soft lips he held the back of your head, angling it so that he could press to you closer. The taste of caramel and blackberry mixing invades both your senses.
The need to breathe broke the heated kiss, Chan placing his forehead on yours and gasping. You had a smile on your face.
“You wanted to kiss me too?” he asked, one of his palms gently holding your cheek, he placed a chaste kiss on them.
“Mhmm.” you nodded, biting your lower lip, “Since we stepped in the park, I was scared that someone would see us and recognize you,” you admitted looking at your boyfriend. His lip now appeared swollen, glistening with your gloss and saliva. His eyes clouded and had a mischievous glint in them.
“I know me too…. I love you,” he told you kissing your lips to seal his words. You giggled as he alternated with loud smooches and soft kisses all over your face. Chan’s love has always been this and it enthralled you, silly and pure.
“Chris…” you gasped as a few drops of ice cream that was left on the cone fell onto your collarbone missing your garments.
He smirked before looking in the direction you all came in, there were people but no one noticed the small nook. Chan grabbed the hand that held the small piece of cone before bringing it to his lips,
“Mmm.” he exaggerated as he ate the cone, teasingly licking and biting your fingers in the process. Your face flushed red, and your breath became shallow. He moved onto your neck next, placing a long lavish lick from the base of your neck to the side of it.
“Ah, Chris…” you moaned hand in his hair as he licked the ice cream off your collarbone, sucking and biting on the skin to leave a faint mark. He kissed the hickey and kissed his way till his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.
Your hands found their way to his chest as he teased the skin behind your ear earning a soft whimper out of you.
“We are in public… we can’t ..ah” you whispered as your boyfriend pulled your body flush against his. Hand slithering under your skirt he grabbed handfuls of your ass as he kissed you again, his tongue entering your mouth as you gasped.
“Channie…” you pushed him away to put space between the two of you. Heaving as you guys neglected oxygen. He wasn’t done he had lost half his rational thoughts and right now all he wanted was you, more and more of you. He pulled you towards him by your hands and was about to kiss you when a loud whistle broke the trance you were in, clearing both of your thoughts and reminding you guys that people could see you. No one noticed thankfully the whistle was just a group of friends goofing around.
“I need more,” he whispered in your ear as you straightened his shirt, wiped gloss off his lips, and tended to yourself. Your face felt hot at his submission his hands snaking around your waist. Your boyfriend rarely showed this side of him, but you became excited and shy when it did. He was so demanding and his usual shyness faded revealing a bold man with a filthy mouth.
“We can’t, not here,” you said placing a kiss on his lips and walking towards the front of the alley. A few kids had begun to look into the space wondering.
He pulled you back a few steps. “The restrooms?”
“Chan, it's the holiday season, and a lot of people will be there in the restroom how are you gonna sneak into the women's room.” you laughed as you both emerged from the nook onto the street.
“Wait, why me? I’ll sneak you in.” He protested.
“There is no way I’m sneaking into the men’s room,” you say
“But-” his whine got cut off with a phone call.
“They are regrouping, it's 1 p.m.” He said.
“So fast? Where was the pizza place again?” you questioned, looking at the hand map you guys had grabbed from the entrance, if you both made a shortcut through the stage field you could reach there in a shorter time.
“Come on.” you grabbed Chan’s hand and walked towards the stage.
The stage was not huge but it was big enough for a band of five and their equipment to perform. It was at a decent height and could be viewed from afar. This was the heart of the park, and a local band was set up to perform. Chan zigzagged his way through the crowd, till you guys reached the stage. The platform was raised and the same height as your boyfriend. The guards hadn’t set up the gates yet so both of you slipped in and went behind the stage where people were shifting and moving props.
“Are we allowed in here ?” you questioned as you both speed-walked through the hustle and bustle.
“No, I don't think so.” Chan said, “I thought so, babe we -” Your sentence was cut off again as Chris pulled you under the platform, through the black curtains. The underside was spacious it was filled with backup speakers, wires, equipment, and microphone stands. Boxes and cartons filled one side and a big sound woofer was placed next to it, you could hear footsteps above you.
“What are you doing? we are gonna get kicked out,” you whisper- yelled as the Chan cornered you, you hit the woofers and Chan caged you in with his arms.
“I told you I want more,” he said in his thick accent, eyes falling onto your lips. The dim light and space make that action insanely attractive.
“Someone could walk in.” you tried as he dipped his head between your shoulder and neck placing kisses.
“We have to be quick then,” Chan stated before he shut you up with a soft kiss, you all but melted. The band had begun sound testing and the bass from the guitar reverberated through the platform, to the poles that held it, into your bodies. He bit slightly onto your bottom lip, earning a whimper out of you, and pulled back. Chan looked at you as you seemed to be in a daze, eyes glazed over, marks on your neck and collarbone, and gloss-smudged lips. Gorgeous. The confined space heated up quickly as he lifted you onto the woofer, people ran to and fro -on and behind that stage- but at that moment you couldn't care less, it was like you both had entered a different world. Where the two of you were alone.
His fingers began undoing the ties on your top, pulling the neckline down to expose your breast.
“Ah, Chris-” you mewled when Chan kissed around your nipple, before playing with it using his tongue. The band had begun playing a song as Chan created bite marks around the supple flesh and sucked on your nipple till you couldn’t hold back your moans.
“My girl, so sensitive here,” he said using his forefinger to circle your hardened bud, your body jerking at the action. He kissed you as his hands made their way all over your body, one palm gripped your ass as the other disappeared between your legs and moved your skirt out of the way.
You moaned into his mouth your hands reached towards his bulge, trying to provide friction over the rough denim as he pushed your panties aside and played with your clit.
“You are so wet for me? Hm? All for me my baby…” he all but breathed into your mouth, one of his fingers entering you as you let out a whine. Chan groaned as you reached for his zipper but he stopped you.
“I want to taste you.” He said before he got on his knees and pushed your skirt up,
“Channie-” you tried weakly as he licked a fat strip from your hole to your clit. Repeating the action he grabbed your hands and placed them on his head, silently asking you to hold his face to your cunt before he dived in under your skirt, the material covering his head partially, holding your panties to the side.
Chan ate your pussy with fervor and passion like he was quenched and needed water, he sucked on your clit before moving towards your hole and teasing the entrance. Your moans were drowned out by the music and commotion outside, and you let out a gasp as your man placed one of your thighs on his shoulder. The new angle allowed his tongue to enter your cunt, and you almost lost balance at the sensation. Your arm tired of holding yourself up so Chan wouldn’t have to bear your whole weight and the other playing with his tresses. He was relentless, slowing down to look at you and smirk before speeding up again. Surrounded by the pleasure you did not quite register two of his fingers entering you until you felt the beginning chills of your orgasm. His fingers scissored you open as his teeth grazed your swollen clit, fingers curled to hit that one spot that had you throwing your head back. Chan gazed to see you your top half undone, tits covered in his marks and spit, hair disheveled, lips between your teeth as you held tried to hold back your sounds. One of his hands reached up to your tit and kneaded the flesh.
“Chris…. Chris.. ah … oh Channie I can’t. Ah..” your foot dig into his back as broken moans and incoherent babbles left you as he fingered you, kissing your clit. "The feeling of pleasure mixed with the thrill of not being caught was so naughty, so wrong." You began moving your hips in sync with his head. The taunt feeling in your stomach snapped when his fingers pinched your nipple and your orgasm washed over you. Your hip jerked and Chan guided you with his hands on your hips as you rode out your orgasm. You tried to pull him up and return the favor but he declined. “It’s okay baby, you can pay me back once we are home.”
“But I-”
“If we start now I don't think I can hold back,” he admitted kissing your pussy once more before he placed your leg back on the ground and got up dusting his knees. Your legs felt weak and you needed a minute to catch your breath resting your head on his shoulder. Chris wrapped his arms around you placing kisses to soothe you on your head, eyes, and neck. You lazily kissed him as he tried to knot the strings of your top. You giggled and then fixed your top yourself. He held you, his arms around your waist while you rested yours around his neck. You fixed your hair and then smiled at Chan who was busy admiring the faint post-orgasm blush on your cheeks. The music continued outside oblivious of the atmosphere under the stage below the platform
“I love you,” you whispered in his ear not wanting to break the little bubble both of you found under a stage during a band rehearsal.
“I love you too,” he said kissing you again, your lips felt fuzzy.
“I love you,” you repeated and he chuckled. “This because I didn't get to tell you at the alley. And this-” you placed a long kiss on his lips smiling against his lips, Chan feeling dizzy “for always taking care of me.” Before Chan could reply someone entered the space both of you jumping at the intrusion.
“HEY! WHO ARE YOU? YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE?!” the woman yelled as someone else entered under the stage. Springing to action, you both ran out of the stage into the crowd. Chan grabbed your hand as he pushed through the crowd yelling out ‘Sorry, excuse us, pardon me mate.’ you guys did not stop till the stage disappeared behind and you were close to the pizzeria. You both stopped laughing and tried to catch your breath, you fixed yourself as Chan discreetly adjusted himself in his pants. You send an apologetic glance to which he just winks and kisses you briefly. As soon as you entered the restaurant you spotted your friends, the loudest in the bunch, it was remarkable how people had not recognized them when they doing everything but laying low. The shouting and hollering intensified as the two of you approached the somewhat private tables.
“You’re late!” Jisung yelled, he was in a mid straw fight with Seungmin. “Yeah, we took the long route,” Chan said slipping into the booth after you.
“Of course you did.” Lee Know said smirking, he noticed the flushed expressions, Chan’s messy hair, and faint marks on you before his eyes met Chan’s. You blushed and turned away from them engaging in something Felix said.
‘Not a word’ Chan glared at Minho. He smiled shrugging before turning away to share a knowing look with Hyunjin. The fuckers had bet on why you were late Minho won clearly as Hyunjin extended a five-dollar bill to him. “Guys, Changbin Hyung cried.” Jeongin reminded again as Changbin groaned.
“In-ah! For the last time, it was because of the speed” The laughter and shouting ensued and Chan placed his hands on your thigh. The clock on the wall read 1:50 and you hoped the day would not end.
_
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝
𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘤𝘹 ©
A/N: it was a bit long right? This is my first time writing smut so excuse any mistakes. I hope you enjoyed it. follow @turtledovenycx for more.
_nyx.☽༊˚
#skz x reader#bang chan imagines#chan smut#chan x reader#bang chan#bang chan fluff#skz smut#skz imagines#stray kids#skz#kpop fanfic#kpop#straykids x reader#stray kids imagines#bang chan smut#bangchan x reader#nyx writings.☽༊˚
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Hii there love <3 I hope you’re doing well!
Would you mind please writing a drabble in the Elementary-verse where Reader surprises Joel and Sarah (and even Tommy as well, if you’d like!) with a homemade meal for dinner one night? Now that Reader was assured by Joel that it was more than okay for her to do something like this, I feel like she definitely would and it’d be super sweet 🥺💞 Thank you for being so amazing <3
Winter Break
pairing: pre-outbreak!joel x f!reader (Elementary-verse)
rating: F (just more fluff, alcohol consumption i guess, maybe some suggestive stuff but nothing explicit at all) as always, not proofread and written on an edible :)
wc: 2k (this got away from me)
series masterlist | joel masterlist
The winter had gotten to all of you, the school year wearing you down along with Sarah as she finished her first semester as a high schooler. Joel and Tommy had it just as bad—having to work outside in the wettest Texas winter you’d ever seen since moving here. More often than not, Joel would come hobbling into the house after he got off work well past dark, only having the energy to call in some take-out for the three of you. He usually ended up falling asleep on the sofa before the food ever arrived.
But tonight marked the start of winter break, and the start of Joel’s vacation days he was in desperate need of. You wanted to celebrate getting through such a rough month with a home cooked meal—not the first you ever made, but certainly the first in a while.
When Sarah got out of school, the two of you drove over to the supermarket to do some shopping. You didn’t want any of you to have to leave the house this winter break, so on top of the usual snacks and frozen junk food Joel kept his fridge stocked with, you also carefully planned dinner for tonight.
“Ooo, vegetables. Been a while since I had those,” Sarah joked, forcing a laugh out of you as you knew it was sadly true.
“Gonna make a roast tonight,” you informed with a smile. “Figured we should probably eat something other than takeout and frozen pizza.”
“Dad’s gonna be excited…long as he can manage to stay awake through dinner. Dad fell asleep on the way to school this morning.” You gasped and watched her nod. “Yeah, good thing Uncle Tommy was driving. Otherwise—“
“Jesus,” you sighed and shook your head. “I’m gonna lock your father up and force him to sleep for like two days straight starting tomorrow.”
“I don’t need sleep like y’all,” Sarah impersonated her father, pulling another laugh out of you. “I’m a big, strong, man. I don’t need sleep or water or vegetables or anythin’ else most humans need to survive. All I need’s a cup of black coffee and I’ll be alright.”
“That was so good, I got chills.”
Back at home, you got to work on dinner. Sarah attempted to help you out, but you lovingly forced her to relax, instructing her to turn on the TV, kick her feet up and just chill while you handled things. But, the fifteen-year old was stubborn like her father and refused, instead choosing to sit at the kitchen table and finish her upcoming project due the week after school recommenced. As a teacher, you wanted to applaud her for her work ethic, but as her future step-mother, you wanted to pluck her pen from her hand and break it, forcing her to do what every other teenager in the world was doing tonight—nothing.
When it was clear she was going to spend her break her own way, you left her to it, focusing on chopping the potatoes, onions, and carrots—omitting celery as Sarah hated it and reminded you of that fact as you reached for a stalk at the grocery store. As you slid the potatoes in a pot to parboil, your cellphone started to ring on the counter.
“It’s dad,” Sarah announced, peeking at the caller ID.
“Can you get it?”
“Yeah,” Sarah nodded and flipped open the phone. “Hey dad.”
You continued on with dinner as they spoke, the phone call not lasting more than a couple minutes.
“Dad said Uncle Tommy is coming over tonight,” she relayed before getting back to her work.
“Good thing I bought the fattest roast in the store,” you spoke through strain as you lifted the roast from it’s packaging to sit in the middle of a metal roasting pan.
“God,” she chuckled at the size. “And you know what? I bet even with all of that, there’ll still be no leftovers by the time dad and Uncle Tommy get through with it.”
The boys entered the house the way the always did, bickering and graceless, their mud and cement covered work books kicked off by the door as they walked in through the garage.
“I’m just sayin’,” Tommy continued whatever conversation they had going on as they walked into the kitchen. Joel sidled up next to you at the stove, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
“Yeah, but I’m tellin’ you,” Joel spoke to his brother but physically remained focused on you and your cooking. “If we can’t get the electrical guys to show up on time, we’re gonna be in some shit. And I know they’re your buddies and all, but this is my goddamn business, Tommy. I can’t keep hand in’ out favors only to get shitty, half-assed work in return.”
“I know,” he sighed and nodded. “I’ll talk to ‘em tomorrow.”
“What’s all this?” Joel mumbled against your temple as he gave you another kiss there, finally greeting you with his voice.
“Thought we were due for a real dinner,” you mumbled back, melting into his side even though he smelled of hard labor and dirt. “There’s a roast in the oven. Should be ready in about twenty minutes. Oh, and there’s beer in the fridge.”
“My god,” Joel gave your hip a squeeze and kissed your cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Damn right you don’t,” Tommy agreed as he appeared on your other side to peek at the food. “How long do I gotta sit in torture?”
“20 minutes,” you replied through a chuckle. “There’s beer in the fridge to distract yourself with in the meantime.”
“Joel, if you don’t marry her, I will.”
“Shut up and go sit down,” Joel ordered, tightening his hold on you. “Gotta keep my eye on him, might try stealin’ you away.”
“I promise you, there’s no chance of that,” you assured. “I’m happy where I’m at.”
“Yeah?” he asked, smiling at you. You turned your head to nod at him, your eyes naturally falling to his lips. “Me too.”
Dinner was alright. The meat could have been a bit more tender and the carrots needed longer, but you seemed to be the only one who noticed. All three Millers tore into dinner until, as Sarah predicted, there were no leftovers.
Now, Tommy laid sprawled out on the couch, his jeans unbuttoned, one hand over his full stomach, the other wrapped around a beer. Sarah sat with him on the other end of the sofa, kicking his feet away any time he tried to rest them near her. Joel looked to be in a similar condition as his brother, sitting back in a dining chair with both hands rubbing over his stomach, his eyes on you as you scraped your plate clean over the trash can.
“Don’t do the dishes,” he commanded, knowing you much too well. You shot him a smile and shook your head.
“It’ll just take fifteen minutes,” you promised, but it didn’t satisfy him. He stood, bones cracking as he walked to stand behind you at the sink. His hands moved from your hips to your hold your wrist. Slowly, he pulled up the sleeves of your sweater one arm at a time, his warmth pressing into you from behind.
“You wash, I’ll dry,” he whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss there before backing away to stand beside you. “How was your last day before break?”
“Surprisingly very calm,” you replied, as you started on the pile of dishes in the sink. “Think everyone’s just excited to get a break. Speaking of, Sarah told me about your nap on the way to school this morning.”
“Oh, hell—just dozed off, it’s nothin. Not everybody needs ten hours of sleep a night to function—“ Your laughter cut him off. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” He shot you a persistent look. “Sarah thought you’d say something like that.”
“She tried to do my voice, didn’t she?” he asked, making you laugh. “It ain’t a great impersonation.”
“I thought it was pretty good.” Joel smiled and accepted the freshly scrubbed plate from your hand with a playful tug.
“You look good tonight, baby,” he spoke quieter, just for you to hear. You felt your stomach tingle with affection at the sound of his low voice—the voice only you got to hear.
“Yeah?” you questioned with a smirk. Joel grinned and nodded in eager confirmation. “You’re just happy because you’ve got a full belly.”
“Dinner was delicious, by the way,” he continued, not detailed by your inability to receive a compliment. “Think one look at Tommy will prove it.”
Your heard turned to the other side to watch as Tommy snored on the sofa.
“Guess he’s staying the night,” you turned to Joel. “I should go get the air mattress—“
“Uh-uh,” he protested with a soft shake of his head. “He’s fine like that. You’re so worried about us relaxin’, you’ve forgotten you’re the most wound up outta all of us. Relax, baby. You are allowed to do that, ya know?”
You chuckled and nodded, looking away from his eyes and back to the dishes.
“How about you go get a fire going in the backyard and I’ll come and sit with you for a while,” you suggested, bringing a fresh smile to Joel’s face.
“I think that sounds like a slice of heaven,” he hummed against your cheek as he kissed you there. “Maybe I’ll even bring out the guitar.”
“That would be nice,” you beamed. Joel’s playing was so pretty, but also so rare. He never had the time for it, always either working or sleeping, but tonight, he had all the time in the world.
Tommy was asleep on the sofa, Sarah up in her bed doing the same thing. You and Joel remained cozied up together in the backyard, a blanket over your laps, your head leaning onto his shoulder as Joel strummed away at his guitar. It was cold out, but the fire raging in front of you did a sufficient job at keeping you toasty, not that you needed it. Joel made you feel plenty warm just by existing.
“You feelin’ sleepy?” he asked over the music. He must’ve caught your heavy eyelids attempting to close. You decided it would be best not to lie, the appeal of the bed and mountain of blankets to keep you warm responsible for keeping you honest.
“Yeah,” you croaked, nodding your head against his shoulder. Joel flattened his palm over the strings to quiet the music before standing up and walking it back into the house. You stood too, wrapping the blanket around your shoulder as you watched him return to put the fire out.
“You don’t have to wait for me,” he reminded.
“I want to,” you argued. He smiled at the dying embers, mumbling an okay.
You waited with him until the fire was completely ashed out, his arms wrapping around your waist to walk you inside. You carefully tiptoed through the house as to not wake Tommy and Sarah. The only sound in the entire house was the creak of the stairs beneath your feet as you padded up the stairs with Joel following at your heels.
“You gonna be grossed out if I don’t shower until the mornin’? I’m so tired—“
“As long as you’re okay with me being too tired for anything sexy tonight,” you replied from your side of the bed as you climbed in.
“We’ll do both in the mornin’ instead, how ‘bout that?” You smiled and nodded at him as he stripped down to his briefs and climbed into bed beside you. You guided him to turn his back to you so that you could hold him for a while, your hands rubbing and kneading at the tension in his back. “Mm, love you baby.”
“I love you,” you whispered back, continuing your massaging right up until you drifted asleep behind him, your hands hugged tight to his chest.
This was rest. This was peace.
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fluff#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller reader insert#joel tlou#tlou fanfiction#elementary
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Dreams – D. Wagner
Warnings: Explicit sexual content; mature themes; fingering; oral sex (fem receiving); unprotected sex; language; MINORS DNI
A/N: Apologies for being late to the Christmas Party, you guys. I ✨almost✨ abandoned this fic in the swamp, but I’m glad I went back and read it tonight with fresh eyes. Ken’s been trying to get me to finish it for days. Anyways, enjoy a little reunion fic bc late Saturday nights are for Danny smut, apparently (I don’t make the rules).
Bajabule,
-Han
As you moved about the kitchen, straightening the countertops and wiping them down, you found yourself lost in the music that drifted throughout the house. The sound that came from the turntable and speakers in your living room made your entire body feel warm, despite being simply clad in your favorite pair of underwear and one of Danny’s old oversized Christmas sweaters.
You’d decided to get a jump on getting into the Christmas spirit, as you’d found it difficult to do so this year with him and his brothers touring on the other side of the world. The first half of December seemed to have sprinted and crawled by at the same time, and you’d only just put up your Christmas tree and decorations the day before. Today, you focused on making treats for when Danny did come home, which wouldn’t be for another two or three days. Doing all of the decorating and baking did well to change the course of your thoughts, and you took advantage of this.
You mixed ingredients, baked gingerbread cookies, and put together a Christmas simmer pot, all while slowly losing yourself in the silky crooning voice of Frank Sinatra as he sang your favorite holiday classics.
After you’d finished your festivities for the day and cleaned everything up, you decided to trudge up the stairs and settle into bed with a nice, cozy blanket to watch a Christmas movie. After you turned off all the lights, you turned on the TV and flipped through your options. After settling on a movie, you snuggled up in your dimly-lit bedroom and watched the screen until your eyelids grew heavy.
As you closed your eyes and drifted to sleep, you heard the soft, muffled voices from the TV fade as your dreams overtook you.
Your dream started out like the Hallmark movie that was playing on your TV when you fell asleep. You were in a small, cozy cabin in the mountains for the holidays, and Danny was meeting you there. Whenever you arrived first, you went to the nearest store and bought things to bake. On your drive back to the cabin, Christmas music was playing on the radio station you’d tuned in to, and Frank Sinatra’s silky voice wrapped you up again as he slowly sang the first verse to “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” You hummed along as you pulled up to the cabin and carried your groceries inside.
You put the first set of gingerbread cookies in the oven and set a timer to take them out before you started mixing ingredients to make your second batch. Still humming the song from earlier, you’d just started mixing when you heard the front door open. Excitedly, you turned around, watching as Danny sat his bags down and slipped out of his jacket that was peppered with snow.
You turned back around and continued mixing your batter while you listened to the soft sound of his socks padding across the hardwood floor. You felt him slip his arms around your waist and squeeze you into his frame, his chin resting softly on your shoulder.
“Smells amazing in here. Making my favorite, I see?”
You grinned at him and let out a little giggle. “Of course.”
“You’re so sweet,” he said softly, his hands toying with the hem of your sweater, and tickling the skin on the tops of your bare thighs as he gently swayed the two of you back and forth. You relaxed into him, and he straightened. You looked up at him from below and took in the shape of his face like it was the first time you’d ever seen it; the shape of his nose and lips, the curls in his hair and the tiny flakes of snow that hadn’t managed to melt just yet. He looked down at you and you watched as the sweetest smile slowly spread itself across his face, making the corners of his deep brown eyes crinkle the tiniest bit. He leaned down and met your lips with his, bringing one of his hands up to cup the side of your face.
When he pulled his lips back from you, he kept the tip of his nose touching yours while his eyes softly held your gaze. “I missed you so much, honey,” he said, the pad of his thumb softly skimming over your cheekbone.
“God, I missed you, Danny.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” you whined, feeling him press himself into your back.
“Well you don’t have to worry. Because I’m here now, sweetheart.”
You huffed a breath, squeezing your thighs together and holding them.
His hands migrated from your hips at this, and he lifted the hem of your sweater, slowly dipping his hand into your underwear. You sucked in a sharp breath when his skin met yours. “Your hands are freezing!”
“Mm,” he hummed against your ear as he slipped his fingers between your folds. “Sorry,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking warm I can’t help myself.”
His fingers circled your clit and you moaned, feeling his cock grow harder still behind you. “Fuck, Danny. Keep going,” you said, your breath getting heavier by the second. He did as you asked, and right as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, your chest heaving.
You felt a jolt behind you, making you jolt again, turning your head and your sleepy eyes around to see Danny, eyes-wide, staring back at you from under your blanket.
Lost for words, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and opened them again to still, despite your belief, see Danny sitting beside you in the bed. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice still heavily laced with grogginess from your nap.
“We decided to change our flights at the last minute. I think we were all just ready to get back home. I wanted to surprise you,” he said, giving you a small smile.
“Well I’m glad you did,” you said, rolling over to him and straddling his hips. He readjusted the blanket around you as you leaned down to kiss him. The two of you took each other in for a bit, and he pulled back just far enough to speak.
“I missed you so much, honey,” he whispered.
You froze, remembering the exact moment in your dream that he uttered those words and what he was doing when he said them. You replayed it in your head, and felt warmth spread between your legs. “I missed you,” you said, pulling him back to your mouth. You felt his cock start to harden rather quickly under you, and you immediately rolled your hips into him, your breath starting to pick up.
“Is that my sweater?” He asked, his eyes glinting at you from below.
“Yeah,” you said, unsure of what he would say next.
He smirked and flicked his gaze from the sweater to your eyes. “It looks really good on you. I like it.”
You slipped the sweater over your head and let it fall to the floor. “Does it look better now?”
His hands gripped your hips and he let out a hard laugh. He flipped you over so that you were under him, and he peppered kisses from your mouth to your breasts, taking his time to spoil each new area he encountered, leaving your heat more soaked and needy for him than it ever had been.
Once he’d met your underwear, he lifted his head as he hooked his fingers around your waistband and waited. You lifted your hips, and he took his cue to pull your underwear down your legs. He paused after he dropped them on the floor.
His eyes flicked from your dripping pussy to your eyes and back. He let out a small huff of air and chuckled to himself.
“What’s so funny?”
He looked at you and raised his eyebrows before he spoke. “I’m toast.”
“What do you mean?” you chuckled back at him.
“I’m not gonna last two fucking seconds in there. There’s no way.”
“Why do you say that?”
His eyes widened as he dramatically glanced back and forth again. “Baby I’ve never seen you wet like this for me. Ever. And it’s been way too long. This is gonna be a fuckin’ mess.”
“Is that a bad thing?” you asked, raising your eyebrows with a smirk.
You watched his jaw fall slack as he stared at you, almost in a daze, before he slowly started slipping his clothes off and tossing them in the floor.
Once he’d fully undressed himself, he settled his shoulders between your legs leaving soft kisses on your inner thighs, slowly moving closer and closer to your heat. The closer he got, the faster you huffed, your heart hammering with anticipation for the feeling of his mouth; a sensation you’d thought about every single night that he was gone.
Your hands lightly shook as they reached for his hair, knowing full-well you didn’t have the self-control to keep yourself from finishing just moments after he delved his tongue inside of you. Once he was happy with the number of kisses he’d given you, his hands crept up your thighs, and he used his fingers to separate you just a bit, giving his tongue easier access to your already swollen clit.
He started slowly, running his tongue from your entrance to your clit before giving it a few soft flicks before descending again, making your legs involuntarily twinge with every flick. Your hands softly gripped the roots of his curls as he continued.
Slowly, he began to move faster, shortening the time between the flicks on your clit, making you whimper as he did so. Your grip tightened as you felt a burning in the pit of your stomach already. “Shit, Danny,” you moaned.
His eyes flicked up to you from below. “What is it? You need some more?”
You moaned again, his voice making you wetter with every syllable. It was then that he slipped his middle and ring fingers into your folds and moved them around, collecting your juices before slipping them languidly into your core. Your back arched at the contact and your fingers completely wrapped themselves around his hair and pulled harder than before, making him moan into your pussy as he sucked your clit into his mouth. His fingers curled, rubbing the perfect spot, and you cried out, your hips bucking shamelessly into his face. The pit of your stomach was seething, and you didn’t even try to quench the fire.
“Oh god, Danny– I– ohhhhh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck–.”
He quickened the pace at which his fingers pumped in and out of your entrance, and you immediately felt the warmth of your first orgasm spread over your entire body. His pace was unwavering, and you continually writhed under him and bucked your hips, physically begging for him to be deeper inside you.
You moaned again.
“What is it, sweetheart?” He cooed, “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” His eyebrows raised, soft and expectant.
“Need you–,” you choked between whimpers, “to fffffff–.” His fingers slowed, giving your brain a moment to work through the numbing haze he was causing with his fingers. “Fuck me,” you whispered. “Please.”
“Been dreaming about hearing you say that to me for months, honey. Dreaming about how you’d look with me buried as deep as I can go. Is that what you want?”
The only bodily function you could manage was a vehement nod of your head, making him let out a breathy chuckle. He removed his fingers from you and leaned up, gently placing his lips on your forehead as he lined himself up with your entrance.
You watched as his mouth hung open while he slipped the tip of his cock into your core, letting out a shaky breath like it was the first time all over again. You sucked in a sharp breath as you adjusted to his girth, feeling him stretch the walls of your pussy so slowly you had to make an effort not to drool. Your head fell backward as your chest heaved at the feeling of fullness between your legs while your hands gripped him by the roots of his curls again.
Moving deeper still, he let out a deep groan, fighting the overwhelming urge to press the rest of the way into you to satisfy himself. He lifted his head to make eye contact with you, his mouth still sitting agape as he slowly continued to slide into you.
“Goddamn, honey. You’re so fucking perfect. So fucking perfect.”
Once he reached the furthest he could, you whimpered, very lightly rolling your hips up into him.
“Mmm, you really did miss me, huh?”
“Mhm,” you whined. “Every fucking night, Danny.”
“I’m flattered,” he said, smirking.
He started pulling his hips back and pushing them in, helping you grow accustomed to the feeling of his thrusts before speeding up. You moaned with each push, already reveling in the depth that he could reach in his current position. Unable to help himself, he pushed into you quicker and harder second by second, his grunts being muted by the slick sounds from your core and the sound of his skin meeting yours over and over.
His breath quickly left him as he continued sharply rocking you back into your pillows, trying his best to hold himself up for as long as he could. His rhythm was impeccable, as one would expect, and you felt your second orgasm creep up on you much quicker than you’d anticipated.
“Danny. Danny. Fuck,” was all you could say before your lower stomach burst with warmth again, leaving your legs trembling on either side of his perfect hips.
“Mmm keep going, sweetheart. Just feel it, yeah? Right there?”
You moaned, nodding your head, focusing everything on the feeling oh his cock sliding in and out of you, like he said. Heavy breaths fell from your lips, and your chest was absolutely burning. It was then that he straightened, removing his cock from you entirely and backing himself off the bed, standing at the end of it. His hands encircled the bottoms of your calves, and he gently pulled you to the edge of the bed; so close that your ass was nearly hanging off the end.
He opened your legs wide and lined himself back up before plunging deliciously deeper inside your core, making you cry out for him. Your hands gripped the sheets under you hard enough to turn your knuckles white. He knew you loved being as close to him as possible while he fucked you, so he slid his arm behind you so that the crook of his elbow rested perfectly behind your neck, his hand firmly gripping your shoulder while his other hand rested on the top of your head. You felt warm and wholly connected to him being wrapped in his arms like this, and you knew he felt the same. He planted a lusty kiss on your lips, lingering there, slipping his tongue into your mouth on occasion.
Once he broke the kiss, he pulled his hips back, pulling his cock out of you about halfway, and pressed down with both of his hands, bringing you to him as he brought himself to you, pushing himself into you deeper than he’d ever gone to date. Your back arched, pressing your chest up into his and he forcefully met your hips with his own, the sounds between the two of you becoming louder and messier by the second. His grunts turned into sharp exhales as he tried with everything he had to hold out and pace himself for his own climax, desperately trying to finish you off for a third time before he indulged.
“Ohhhhh my fucking GOD, Danny,” you moaned. “You’re so fucking deep. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop.”
He moaned, and you could tell from the sound of it that he was tiptoeing on his edge. You tried with everything you had to squeeze his cock as hard as you could, and you thought you had him. His eyes screwed shut and his mouth fell open, and you watched him fight with his entire being for every second he could stand it.
His grip on your shoulder and your hair grew much tighter as he grit his teeth together, his chest heaving harder than you’d ever seen it. He pulled you impossibly closer to him, every inch of your skin burning against his as he pounded into you the hardest he had all night.
“Cum for me, sweet girl. Show me how bad you needed my cock while I was gone, huh? Come on,” he coaxed. You arched again, harder than you ever had, and you cried out for him again, your entire body trembling as he kept his rhythm perfectly again, making your legs twinge from the immense stimulation.
Soon after, you felt his hips quiver, and it took mere seconds for him to start his release. You did what you could to squeeze around him while he rode out his high, milking his cock while he grunted and moaned into your neck, eventually laying his upper half against yours in a heaving pile. Your hands trailed the expanse of his back as his chest pressed into yours with each breath he took.
When he rose from you, he slipped out from between your legs and padded off to the bathroom for a washcloth. After he’d cleaned the both of you, he settled himself at the head of the bed, pulling you to him. You laid your head on his chest and threw your arm across his torso as he pressed his lips against your forehead, reaching for the TV remote on the nightstand.
After flipping it on, he looked at you and grinned.
“What?” You asked, reflecting his smile on your lips.
“That must’ve been a really good nap earlier to put you in that big of a mood,” he said, waggling his brows at you.
You blushed, looking away from him for a moment with a giggle.
“Actually…”
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Taglist: @sunandthemoontwinflames
#greta van fleet#greta van smut#gvf#starcatcher#greta van fic#greta van art#danny wagner fic#danny wagner smut#danny gvf#danny wagner
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if ur requests are open…virgin Kazuha with a player m!reader.
Reader made a bet with Beidou about how long it’ll take to get to fuck Kazuha since he’s one of the people on the Crux that the reader hasn’t fucked and Kazuha overhears.
He knows he shouldn’t give in, but he’s wanted the reader for so long so they end up fucking (and confessing feelings because I’m a romantic😭).
tip [m.reader]
actual title: [just the] tip, LMAO. I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD AND I’M BRINGING THREE SMUTS WITH ME. anyway. i think we all know when i say soon, it means 2 weeks later. fuck. i’m so sorry yall i do not know how to squeeze my brain for creativity. so the past two weeks, i’m just working out and gaming and illustrating. also i was halfway through the smut when i got the request for the player reader aND THATS WHEN IMAGINATION STRUCK. so anyway have this adorable samurai, tysm baby for letting me win your 50/50 again ilysm mwah.
𖦹 gentle sex, romantic stuff, they say ily in the end (and i am jealous), it’s been weeks since my last smut so bear with me, an attempt at an oral, fingering, penetration, lots of reassurances, top male reader
It all started with a simple bet between you and Beidou. She was the same captain that challenged you many times in drinking contests, after all (most of which, you’ve lost to her). And while you cannot exactly handle all of your alcohol like she can’t, no one could say the same when it comes to your visceral need to possibly get every living being on the bed with you.
It was a running joke between the entire crew. With your utterly promiscuous nature, you’ve managed to bed every bachelor and bachelorette on the Alcor. It was an amazing feat and an occurrence that happened so much, people would casually compare your performance with each other. Granted, it was embarrassing, but such is the price of being so… whorish.
Not a single soul was saved, even the sweet housekeeper from Mondstadt and his superior that were traveling to the nation of freedom to strike a deal with an elusive winery owner weren’t saved from your promiscuity. Beidou was already hurting from the sides from all the laughing she’s done once she realizes the fleeting glances between the two of them towards you were no mere coincidences.
But maybe not a single soul being saved was… an overstatement.
All of them weren’t safe except for one — the elusive ronin that frequently traveled with Beidou’s crew; Kaedehara Kazuha himself. For some reason, he was the one person that you couldn’t bed, and unfortunately for you, Beidou noticed. She noticed how your flirtatious flair would tone down, turning you into the most unassuming version of yourself that any of the Alcor has ever seen whenever you would entertain Kazuha up in the crow’s nest, a gentle smile on your lips instead of that knowing smirk that could leave anyone writhing.
Beidou already had an idea by then, but she decided to aid you in getting things moving as she made one bet to you.
“If you can get our romantic poet in bed with you, I will retract all drinking contests in the future.”
Your terms were flimsy and shallow. But you figured your liver would greatly appreciate the deal. And if you won, you only said that the captain would have to admit that, although untrue, you have, at some point, beaten her in one contest.
Had you only known what your dear little ronin has in store for you.
Kazuha, admittedly, is an absolute romantic. The verses in his poetry could not make that mere fact any clearer. His mind and heart can coordinate and weave the sweetest words lodged in limited verses that sing the sweetest praises to the unknown.
And often you were the victim of it. Kazuha was well aware of how subdued you seem around him, suddenly discarding the playboy persona that you were known around for, your very reputation that despite the efforts that Kazuha made in order to evade it, it still somehow managed to take the longest detour right to his heart.
You were a magnet that had limitless attraction Kazuha was just a drop in a sea of particles that continued to gravitate to you, despite his constant rumination that you were never going to be a constant in his life. He lives to seek every corner of the world while you discovered the uncharted parts of someone else’s bare skin in your endeavors.
How ironic was it that in his inconsistent lifestyle, he was terrified of having you — someone who is just as much of constant as his stays on places while he wandered through all nations.
But the tiny voice at the back of his head were screaming, pleading for a chance to even experience the atmosphere with you when wrapped in the haze of lust and sex.
It was probably why the moment he overheard your tiny wager with Beidou, the restraints that he kept on his poor longing heart suddenly loosened. And it was probably why the moment you amped up your flirtatious tendencies, Kazuha was suddenly breathless.
To experience of being the end of your smooth words was something Kazuha can only describe as what it feels like to get a taste of his own medicine. Suddenly, you were more forward, you didn’t wait for him to ask you and gaze at the skies with him on the crow’s nest. Everywhere he was, you were suddenly around, like a persistent python that coiled around him until he could no longer breathe — and he loved it.
Maybe it’s why your advances were easily reciprocated by him. Maybe it’s why all of a sudden, he wanted your hand to linger under his chin. Maybe it’s why, out of all his resistance to your charm, it all comes crashing down into a futile effort.
And maybe it’s also exactly why his heart hammered with persistence against his ribcage despite the ache in his knees as he knelt and did his best to suck you off with little to no experience under his belt.
You sat on the edge of the bed, eyes downcast to meet Kazuha’s teary eyes. He was already ruined just from this, mouth barely able to take in more of you. But you were a persistent teacher, and he was an eager student.
A smirked played upon your pretty lips, hand gliding over to Kazuha’s soft cheek before pinching it, stretching his mouth just a little bit more as you slowly pushed your hips, watching your cock make it barely even halfway through Kazuha’s mouth.
You were used to the experienced men that could take you in skillfully even with your size, but the inexperience was somewhat of a breath of fresh air — if not, utterly adorable. The way his tongue refused to stay flat while your cock pushed in, his teeth grazing against your sensitive head ever so slightly, and archons, those lovely tears that glistened through his wet eyelashes as the honorable ronin looked up at you for any form of approval.
“You’ve no idea how incredibly delectable you look right now, love.” Your smooth voice filled his ears and he hummed, pleased from the praise, leaving you hissing as the vibrations from his mouth enveloped your cock.
“Think you can manage a few more inches?” You asked with a curious grin.
Kazuha doesn’t think so, but the innate need to please you and seek your praise was something he quickly found out the moment you stripped him of his robes and adored his body with your sweet words. He nodded, a little unconvincing, a little reluctant, and a little nervous.
You guided his hands that rested on your thighs to grip the base of your length, “For better leverage,” you said, though quite true, it was equally just an excuse to feel his cute little hands around you.
The ronin nodded once more before pushing further, dipping his head until he can take more of you. His cheeks burned and the moment the tip of your head hits the back of his throat, Kazuha immediately pulls back, coughing. You ran your hand through his hair, flashing him a reassuring smile.
“Too much?”
Kazuha’s lips were wet from his own saliva. He opened his eyes to see a tiny sinful string of saliva that connected his lips to your cockhead. He looked up at you with so much determination, almost eager to try again, and while it was immensely adorable, you decided to take pity on Kazuha as you pulled him up to your lap.
“I-I can do more…”
“And we’ll work on that next time,” you said with the same soft reassurance that he has heard from you every time you and Kazuha would engage in a conversation. But it wasn’t what made his heart jump — it was the fact that you opened up the possibility of a next time for him. A possibility that this isn’t a one time thing as he feared.
Before he could even process anything else, his back hits the soft mattress beneath him. It should have been intimidating, but to see tower over him with such a huge figure, Kazuha could only feel the unbridled warmth that radiated from you. He waited with bated breath as you looked down on him, a smile so inviting that it doesn’t even remotely feel like he was participating in a bet, that you were making love to him so tenderly instead.
“Think it’s time for me to finally take care of you, hm?” Your soft croon reached his ears and he could only nod, meek yet still so bloody excited for what happens next.
He could feel his breath get caught in his throat the moment your hands easily opened his legs, and he willfully complied despite how his thighs quivered under your grasp. He watched seat yourself in between his legs, watching you open up that one familiar package of lubricant. You squeezed a generous amount on your fingers before turning to him.
“Try to relax, yeah?”
“M-Mhm…”
Kazuha doesn’t question the way his back immediately arched up as his body responded to your fingers that slowly penetrated him. He could feel the coldness and he shivered, squirming at the tight fit. He could feel it all too much. His hand immediately shot up to latch onto your strong shoulders while he let out a strangled gasp.
Your little samurai was all too enticing, “My~ what a mess I’ve made you, and just from my fingers alone too…” You laughed and Kazuha can only whimper closing his eyes shut to avoid any further embarrassment, though it was clearly futile by then.
Your slowly pumped your fingers, feeling out Kazuha’s gummy walls. He clenched on your fingers with every movement, leaving him writhing against the sheets. It was a sensation that he was all too new in experiencing. His soft gasps and quiet whines echoed through the walls of the remote inn that you graciously paid for under the guise of taking shelter with your travel companion.
Kazuha cried out your name so sweetly, and it was as if the heavens are calling you.
“[Name]… m-more…” he pleaded with a tiny voice, barely managing while your fingers continued to penetrate through his walls that continued to pulsate around your digits. You indulged in every moan that spilled from his lips as you pumped your fingers even more.
You licked your lips, eyeing the samurai in bliss so hungrily. He was ethereal even when he’s a complete mess with sweat cascading through his soft skin and his hair completely tousled as he continued to squirm from your ministrations alone. You drank the very sight of him and you couldn’t wait to take him then and there.
A choked gasp suddenly weaseled out of him as your fingers finally grazed his prostate.
“H-Hah—!” You watched in fascination as your endeared ronin came just from that alone. Cum dripped down from his cock, making a tiny pool on his abdomen. Kazuha was breathless, his body quivering in inconsistent intervals as he reached his high all too early. He looked at you, just as surprised as you are.
“O-Oh… D-Did I—? Already?” Kazuha’s embarrassment was unparalleled, but you were quick to quell that as you leaned in, showering his heaving chest the most chaste kisses, filled with so much care and love that were absent from your times with others. No amount of sweetness could amount to your shallow ones when it wasn’t Kazuha.
“You treat it like it’s a problem,” you chuckled and Kazuha’s face flushed at your playful chastising. Of course it must be a problem. One too many he’s heard about people lasting in bed a better feat when it comes to sex. But you were quick to refute the little beliefs he had. “It only means I’m making you feel good, no?”
Kazuha nodded, speechless for once at such a gentle treatment. He’s heard from the accounts of others just how rough you can be, some men even having to complain about it to you openly, while you only gave a tiny apology before slithering away. But this, even Kazuha wasn’t too certain if this was something new for you or if you thought that he was too fragile to handle you. He griped to himself at the thought and he quickly grabbed onto your wrist.
“I-I’m ready,” he muttered, giving you the full green light.
You have half a mind to question him for a second time, but his look of determination and your own cock that only throbbed painfully against your abdomen was enough to persuade you.
Kazuha could only look on, his eyes widening when his struggles earlier to take you in just with his own mouth came back to bite him in the ass. He looked up, a little frantic as the anxiety only flooded through him — he could barely suck you off without suffocating, how could he take you in so easily.
You only leaned to kiss at the shell of his ear, as gentle as you can, “Don’t worry, we’ll stop if you can’t.”
His arms were quick to hook around your neck, looking down and quivering a little as he felt the way your cockhead brushed against the rim of his entrance, prodding at him with so much temptation. “But… I don’t want it to stop…” he mumbled, only making you laugh at such a sweet sentiment.
“One at a time, mkay? It’s your first time,” You whispered as you slowly lined up, your shaft already prodding at Kazuha’s lubed up hole. “Ready?”
Taking a deep breath, Kazuha only nodded, surrendering control to you to take care of him.
It wasn’t a mistake to be so near him as your ears indulged in Kazuha’s sweetest cries as you slowly eased yourself in. You didn’t bother going all the way as you felt him clench around you even with just a few inches in. It was adorable, remotely endearing as you continued a couple more inches.
“W-Wait,” he was quick to plead, and you stopped, listening intently to his whims.
“Why don’t we practice with just this much, hm?” It wasn’t even a surprise as Kazuha quickly agreed, eager to follow you. He succumbed into the submission of being under your control, to let you do as you please to him and you relished in that very permission to take in every bit of him even the slowest ways.
You drew out some quiet sobs from poor Kazuha as your hips drew back, only to stop just before you could pull out. Your sensitive head alone could even feel the slightest bumps within his walls and it was absolutely divine.
Kazuha hiccuped through his tears despite your shallow, languid thrusts — barely even fully inside and yet he’s already so spent. You could feel every gasp getting pulled out from his system with how his cock seemed to brush against your abdomen with every movement.
“Feels good?” You asked and he only nodded — quite frankly it was a miracle that Kazuha could even still make of what you can say.
“D-Deeper, [Name],” Kazuha begged, coming out in a tiny mewl that you couldn’t seem to refuse.
You followed through his demand, letting in a couple more inches inside and he was squealing so wantonly. The way his walls clenched onto your length, he could feel every sinful throb within his tight warm walls and he couldn’t help but squirm, inching away from your cock when you held him down.
“You can do it, you’re a good boy, yes?” You smiled, your thrusts slowly growing deeper and deeper until it left him writhing underneath you. You could feel the delectable scratch on your broad back as he clutched onto you for dear life.
“M-Mhm… a good boy,” he parroted, his mind numbing with each thrust, his hips slowly meeting your movement as the fervent need to feel you grew inside him.
You were just as easily losing it as your hips moved in a steady pace. Never had you even been this gentle on someone even — but somehow Kazuha brought it out of you. Your soft grunts melded with his delectable moans as you moved your head, lips just a hair distance away from him.
And then it spills from your lips;
“Fuck… I love you so much…”
Kazuha’s eyes snapped open and you immediately stopped your movements, your cock still inches deep inside your little ronin.
A wave of clarity washed over Kazuha as the realization hit you both.
“You mean it?” He asked, love in his eyes with so much anticipation.
You only laughed as you leaned in, “Couldn’t get anymore obvious with that,” you quipped, all too amused as the blush overtook Kazuha’s face down to his neck. A little taken aback, but he only smiled, bringing you in close for a sweet kiss.
“Well, I share the sentiment.” Kazuha mumbled, his breath ghosting over your lips as a lovestruck expression completely took hold of his pretty face.
“Would it kill you to say it back?”
“I love you too.”
You only showed your satisfaction with your lips on his, your fingers digging into the soft flesh of his waist as you lifted him up. A needy whimper was pulled out of Kazuha’s throat as you thrusted one more time, a mischievous and eager smile grazing your face.
You were going to show Kazuha so much more.
And lucky for you, you’ve got the whole night to express that love to each other.
#can you hear me crying because i’ve never felt so single#NEXT ONE#we’re gonna be screwing two dragons in their own separate fics#ofc ofc#genshin impact x male reader#kaedehara kazuha x male reader#kazuha x male reader#kazuha smut#sub genshin impact#jhuzen’s stupid one shots#jhuzen’s shameless filth
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI : MASTERLIST
please be respectful! do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or otherwise share on other platforms. all my reader characters are fem + afab unless otherwise specified. please see individual fic posts for nsfw ratings and other warnings!
bakugou writing tag | universal masterlist
MULTI-CHAPTER
incendiary (30K) : complete
When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.
you’re the one that i haunt (15K) : complete
Ghosts aren’t real. At least, that’s what you tell yourself when the spirit of pro hero Dynamight suddenly starts haunting your apartment.
statistically significant (24K) : complete
You’re the scientist who developed a neural net to model the value of assists. Now that your work is feeding into the hero rankings, pro hero Ground Zero has a bone to pick with your results.
cover shot (through the heart) (16.5K) : complete
For years, you’ve been the only assistant in the business equipped to handle foul-tempered supermodel Katsuki Bakugou. That is, until he catches on to your weak point.
war paint (28K) : complete
Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (A Mulan AU)
savvy (17.5K) : complete
You’re a business course third year who’s good at being bossy, organized, and data-driven. You just want to use your business savvy to help all heroes. Well, all heroes except one. [smutty one shot follow on: defiant]
barbarian-verse au (various) : in progress
You find yourself traveling with barbarian Bakugou. Things get complicated quickly.
ONE SHOTS
fruit first (ask questions later) (3.6K) - gn!reader
When the grocery store you’re in becomes collateral in a villain attack, pro hero Dynamight comes to your rescue. When you become armed with a handful of oranges, however, someone may need to come to his rescue…
abs-olutely worth it (3.5K) - gn!reader
You’re an amateur hero photographer whose shots of Bakugou’s abs keep going viral. Everything is going great…until Bakugou catches wind of it.
defiant (4.5K)
There are a lot of benefits to managing your pro hero boyfriend, but dealing with the PR nightmares he generates is not one of them. After Katsuki gets way too mouthy with a hapless reporter, you take it upon yourself to put him in his place. Katsuki, however, has other ideas. [a smutty oneshot companion to savvy; you do not need to have read savvy first!]
DRABBLES + PROMPT FICLETS
general bakugou x princess reader (1.1K)
Your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry. There is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne.
always (1.5K)
Best friend Bakugou helps you through a breakup.
todobakureader domestic fluff (1K)
The sound of muffled arguing in the kitchen wakes you up on Saturday morning.
destruction (1.6K)
"Are you this stupid on purpose?"
wine & dine (0.3K)
“Oh my god, I am gonna fuck whoever made this apple pie so hard they see stars for weeks.”
always first (0.7K)
“It’s not a double date, we’re just third and fourth wheeling."
just can’t weight (0.8K)
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" + gym bro Bakugou
personal chef (0.4K)
Living with Bakugou is like living with your own personal chef.
fan art (0.2K)
Bakugou has an embarrassing secret (ft super cute art from Merms!!)
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Poltergeist
So, Danny, who’s blood is composed of mostly caffeine because the Box Ghost just WON’T FUCKING STOP attacking on the middle of the night, God Dammit this is the SEVENTH Time tonight how the Crap Baskets do you keep escaping the Thermos!! So, when he wakes up one morning needing both caffeine and ectoplasm in his sleep deprived state he just mixes a 4 pack of monster and beaker of ectoplasm in a jug and starts chugging to try and get it down before the taste hits and then stops. Takes a sip. Takes another. And realizes that it actually taste way better then either do individually.
So he starts mixing them up regularly, and eventually starts just phasing ectoplasm into still sealed cans so he can grab and go for the sake of convenience. Then some other ghost get a taste, like it, and start asking for more. So Danny gets some new friends and starts making ghost money selling his concoction, and as a joke based on the original name of the energy drink, paints over the can and relabels them Poltergeist.
For a while, business is booming but then a problem pops up. Real world items are contraband in the zone according to Walker, and most of the drink itself and the container it comes in is real world matter. Cue prohibition era shenaniganery as Danny and his allies became energy drink bootleggers, running from Walker, smuggling cases of Poltergeist, hiring ghost to help them with all of this, the whole nine yards.
I think this could work out pretty well with Danny and The Spooks, him and his boys mass producing and shipping out illegal ghost energy drinks could be a really cool plot line in my opinion, producing it, figuring out how to get it to the zone and all that as a group. I also feel this idea is just the right amount of wacky to work with the DP verse and serious/sensible enough to not be complete crack fic unless you want it to be.
When the Fenton’s and Valerie hear about that no good menace Phantom selling Highly Dangerous Ghost Drugs the flip their shit. The smear campaign is the stuff of legends. And then the truth comes out. It’s just a really Really REALLY tired teenager trying to stay awake and make some pocket money to buy first aid supplies and have some left over to buy food for homeless people.
If it’s a verse where Sam and Tucker are in on the whole ghost fighting thing then they are Energy Drink Kingpin Danny’s right and left hand men. Tucker’s the tech guy, figuring out how to build hidden compartments in vehicles to hide the goods, monitoring and screwing with Walker’s tech, managing accounts for human money he makes/figuring out how to exchange human money for Ghost money. Sam is his badass enforcer who keeps the underlings in line, and also uses her money and rich people connections to launder money and stuff. Proper crime boss stuff.
Eventually, everyone’s least favorite front loop catch’s wind of this. And I see this going one of two ways.
1) He comes to the conclusion that Danny’s not aloud to have nice things, and starts his own enterprise to compete with Danny. Stealing business, sabotaging production, tipping off Walker. General douchbaggery.
2) He is the opposite of opposition. He wants Danny as his Son, wants Danny to be just like him, wants to guide and train Danny the way he never got. So Danny, all on his own, building a criminal empire? Pissing off the authorities instead of being a little goody two shoes? Laundering money almost as good as his old man? It is wonderful and he is Here For It. Either he’s in the distance cheering him on or actively trying to help. “No no my boy, if you do it like that you’ll either end up broke or in jail for tax evasion. You’ve got to send your money through these channels and store it in banks of these countries. I’ll help you set up accounts.”
#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp au#fic prompt#story prompt#writing prompt#danny phantom au#Danny’s a crime lord#and he’s bound and determined to make it everyone else’s problem#Frostbite is at first glance the muscles of the organization but then he throws on a lob calf and goes to his lab to cook up better flavors#this is my first to tagging Danny as a Crike Lord it will not be the last#Walker#Walker won’t admit it but he’s absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation#tickled pink beyond belief#His whole Shtick is to be an old timey cop#getting to do all this prohibition stuff is a litter Al dream come true for the guy#Vlad has a foam finger with Number 1 Crime Boss written on it#he’s never bend more proud of his little boy.#Vlad: *Sees Danny monologing to petty ghost criminals that are trying to take his business* I’ve never been prouder#*wipes a tear*
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All that Jazz (dp x dc)
All Jazz had wanted to do was get white girl wasted at a random bar on a Saturday night. Was that really too much to ask?
She’s been taking double-shifts at the convenience store to try and store up on cash despite all the motel payments. Danny did his best to help but he was still underage and more importantly, he looked it. The last thing they wanted was to make waves. That was how the creeps in white had found them the last few times after all.
So yeah, maybe Jazz had accepted her coworker's invite to go out tonight as a reward to herself for the last week and a half of especially long hours. Danny had been more than encouraging, practically pushing her out the door on her way there.
And she’s been having a good time! Saturdays were karaoke nights and Jazz loved nothing more than drunk singing in front of equally drunk people. So she’s put her name down and went back to the bar for some more alcohol. She was technically a few years away from being legal but her fake papers said otherwise and that was all that mattered.
Now here she was, standing with the mic in her hand, and two Bastards in White staring straight at her. Oh sure, they were in civilians clothes but she knew what they were.
Jazz forcefully pushed down the panic and focused on the screen showing the lyrics to the song she’d chosen instead. She could work with this. They couldn’t grab her when everyone’s eyes were on her, could they?
So she pasted a smirk on her face and narrowed in on a buff woman in the crowd who was seemingly alone. Raising the microphone she mustered her best drunk girl voice.
“This one’s for you, baby,” she yelled and pointed at the woman.
That got people’s attention and someone cat-called, with a few people joining in and cheering. The woman only raised an eyebrow at Jazz but didn’t deny it right away. And then it was too late and the song started with Jazz going in on the first verse. She put her all into it, really exaggerating the drunk and loud aspect of the performance.
As they got closer to the chorus she skipped a few words to yell “Come on! You guys know it!”
She went back in just in time to finish the verse and as the chorus started she was singing the first words alone before one or two loud voice came in with her. After that, they were joined by most of the bar as they got through the song. The energy was high as the song finished and Jazz was ready to take advantage.
“How about another one, sweetheart?” The redhead asked the woman she’d singled out. The latter smirked with her arms crossed and a beer bottle in her arm before raising her hand to the side of her mouth.
“You know me, baby. I'll take whatever you give,” she hollered back. Jazz mimed fanning herself as the crowd exploded in whistles and laughter.
Someone started the song as Jazz smirked. She blew a kiss towards the woman before she started singing.
The stage wouldn’t work forever as a deterrent but if she could slow the creeps for long enough she could maybe slip out the back while they tried to squeeze past the crowd.
The new song was another classic for people to sing along to and sing along they did. It was another few minutes of high energy crowd managing for Jazz who was feeling stone-cold sober from the adrenaline by now but still playing at being intoxicated.
“Had enough yet?” Jazz taunted and someone hooted.
“Why, you getting tired?” The woman shot back and the crowd oohed. Jazz let that sit for a moment, milking the tension for all it was worth.
“Please,” Jazz drawled before pausing dramatically. “I can go all night long.”
And that had the crowd exploding in whistles and raucous laughter.
That was probably a good time to dip. As another song started to play, Jazz took the opportunity to hand the mic to the next singer and step down into the excited crowd, planning to loose the guys in white in the excitement.
Jazz was making good headway for the back door when someone stepped up to her.
“Oh baby,” the woman from before purred at her. “Where have you been all my life?”
“If I knew you were looking, I'd have come sooner,” Jazz answered with a saucy wink of her own. The creeps in white wouldn’t stop her from having a little fun at least.
The woman let out a quiet snort before looking down at Jazz. “How about we get out of here and make some sweet music of our own, hey honey?”
Jazz was about to deflect with a flirty quip and slip out when she caught the woman’s eyes. Belying the quirk in her lips, her gaze was completely serious.
Jazz got the feeling that the pretty woman had caught on there was something fishy here. She didn't seem like the type that would let Jazz leave alone if she thought she could help. The redhead mentally shrugged and figured why not. She didn’t really have time to argue anyway.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jazz answered cheekily before flipping her hair and twirling towards the door.
“Lead the way, gorgeous,” the woman drawled with a smirk.
This was either going to be fantastic or absolutely awful.
#jazz fenton#dc x dp#dp x dc#roxpox#kate kane#roxpoxwrote#I'm imagining that in the morning Jazz collects Danny and they book it out of town. Years later Jazz and Kate (now batwoman) meet again#Kate and Jazz spend the night evading the GIW and flirting with each other#kate kane x jazz fenton#no idea if there's a ship name for this#Any ideas if not?
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Longevity (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Summary: Longevity (noun) - continuance; durability; permanence
Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.06
Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. (For now.) Fluff, a little angst, discussions of the future, vignettes/time jumps, smut, HEA.
Note: Alright here it is, and it is a HONKING CHAPTER. But how could I break it up into pieces when it's The End? I'm tucking my little babies into the dollhouse and closing it up so they can live on the rest of their lives. To Eddie and Store Manager, I love you both dearly and you were the thing that brought me back to writing and into a wonderful community of writers and readers. To everyone reading, thank you so much for your endless support. You will never know how much it's appreciated.
You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing. Seriously, go read it.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
---
April 1986
"Ope, if it isn't the man of the hour, Mr. Edward G. Robinson himself. We were just talking about you."
That was the greeting that found Eddie as he walked into Claire's after school on a lovely Thursday afternoon, ready to share some good news before his closing shift.
Great news, actually, if he was being honest. Life-changing news that he was sure would earn him a ton of kisses that he'd been craving after a long week of assignments and standardized tests.
Imagine his surprise then, that instead of finding you and Mindy behind the counter, chatting after a supposed "big visit" you'd told him that you had today, you still had company.
He skidded to a halt at the sight. Your guest smiled up at him with her hands on her hips.
Short in stature, blonde hair in pristine victory rolls, bold makeup that consisted of layers of glittery eyeshadow, and wrists adorned with stacks of multicolored scrunchies.
"It's nice to see you again Jen," he greeted your old Store Manager.
He'd only met her in person once, but had heard countless fond and semi-unbelievable stories about her from you--and apparently she'd heard the same about him, having greeted him with a bone-crushing hug the first time they met—so there was a familiarity and fondness there that they both indulged.
"What are you doing here?" he asked casually and crossed the distance to throw an arm over your shoulder and press a kiss to your temple. "I thought you said that you wouldn't be caught dead in Indiana."
You, Mindy, and Jen all broke out in a fit of giggles and Eddie felt a sudden sense of instinctual dread.
"Well then get ready to start planning my funeral kid," Jen announced. "Because you're about to start seeing a lot more of me."
"Jen just got promoted," you interjected finally.
"Oh yeah?"
"To District Manager. So she's gonna be my boss. Again."
"Oh, shi--shoot," Eddie felt like he'd been doused with cold water at the revelation. He peeled his arm from around your shoulder and took a wide step to put distance between the two of you. "That's...wow. Congratulations."
He'd been through a handful of DM visits at TapeWorld, never on his own, always under Kyle's cool guidance; however, he'd come to realize that the stiff authority figure of his District Manager Jeff was something to be feared.
So even though he was excited for Jen--your friend--on her promotion, the sudden realization that Jen--your boss--was standing here watching him make an idiot out of himself and possibly put your job at risk...
"Oh my god," Jen broke down in a fit of laughter. "Look at him, he's about to shit himself. Take a chill pill Ed, Jesus. I’m not gonna be a hardass until next week. If that.”
Once everyone had their fill of laughter, and Jen promised that she wasn't going to hold your relationship over your head--
"So long as you're not in here interfering with the business or making out on the sales floor or something."
--Eddie pulled you to the side and finally revealed his big news.
"So," he began excitedly. "It, uh, looks like I'm on the road to graduation. Like really graduating. Not just 'if I don't fuck it up in the home stretch' this time. I'm actually gonna graduate."
"Oh my god," you grabbed him by his jacket and shook him as joy bubbled in his chest from your reaction. "Eddie that's amazing!"
You asked him a few questions and your eyes sparkled proudly as he recounted his talk with his guidance counselor, and he couldn't help the smile that stayed on his face the entire time. Especially when you let out a shriek of joy and jumped around.
"We need to go and celebrate!" you insisted.
"I mean," he suddenly got bashful. "I haven't graduated yet."
"Still, it's big. You worked so hard." You looked back over at Jen and Mindy who were talking at the cash wrap. "I know you're closing tonight but I'm taking Jen out for drinks a little later. When you get out of work, meet us at the Hideaway. I'll get you the Wayne and a beer. And then afterwards, uh...if you wanna come back to my place? Like...actually celebrate?”
He grinned and nodded eagerly; you'd taken the words right out of his mouth.
---
His shift had gone by quickly and he’d joined you and Jen at the Hideaway with Kyle in tow. Kyle who was not only proud of Eddie and wanted to treat him to a beer for his efforts, but also intrigued at the possibility of schmoozing a pretty new face in town.
“Sometimes,” he announced with a flourish when he returned to StarCourt right before store close, dressed in the nicest clothes Eddie had ever seen him wear. “You need to take a chance. How many times did I tell you that kid? You miss all the chances you don’t take. That’s why it took you so long to get a girlfriend.”
Jen, unfortunately, laughed right in Kyle’s face when he kissed her hand upon introduction.
“I’m engaged, Romeo,” she informed him. “Sorry.”
“I don’t see a ring. You can let me down Jenny. Tell me the truth, I won’t be hurt.”
“You’re sweet. But it’s the truth. I just don’t wear the ring to work.”
“Alright, alright,” He sighed, then got a sly look. “Any chance you have a sister? Or a brother? I’m an equal opportunity man looking for true love.”
The night was filled with hearty food, rounds of beer, fantastical stories of retail hell and 4th Quarters past, and accomplishments on everyone’s part.
Kyle bragged about a new car he had just put a down payment on.
Your store had hit some Diamond Earring milestone that only you and Jen seemed to understand but the excitement was contagious.
Eddie got a round of applause from the table when you urged him to announce his big news to everyone.
Honestly he couldn’t care about Kyle or Jen’s reaction, it was seeing you look at him with all the pride and affection in the world that he basked in. He couldn’t wait for the actual graduation ceremony, for you to be front and center with Wayne and Rick and all of his friends. There to witness his hard work come to fruition…and for him to flip Principal Higgins off.
And then Jen stood up and announced her own accomplishment right before last call.
“So,” she cleared her throat and held up her glass and pulled something out of her coat. “I know I already celebrated back home and I don’t really know either of you, Kyle and Ed, but I know my little protégée here would be happy for me.
”Alongside my wonderful and well-earned promotion to DM, I also received my Longevity pin.”
She opened a little velvet jewelry box and showed off a tiny glittering purple pin with a tiny little diamond chip in place of the dot of the “I” in Claire’s.
“Ten long years,” Jen announced after a swig of her beer, “with the Purple Glitter Factory. And all I have to show for it is a pin, a little more money, and a lot more responsibility. God. Growing up sucks. But I’m very proud. And you’re next kid.”
She laid a hand on your head and you waved her off with visible embarrassment then disappeared to go and close out your tabs.
Later that night as you and Eddie settled into bed to sleep after some celebratory activities, Eddie laid awake and stared at the ceiling. Thinking.
“What are your plans for the future?” He asked after a beat.
“Uh,” you shifted your head on his shoulder so you could look at him. “Is this because of all of Jen’s talk of careers and stuff?”
“Yeah. And graduation. And all of that stuff. So? What do you wanna do…where do you wanna be…when you’re older?”
“God, I dunno. I got my associates in business because I was hoping it would help me get my own store. And I did. It also was so boring, I don’t want to go back to school. I guess the next thing is…actually take a vacation day now that I’m earning them. What about you?”
“Music legend,” he answered immediately.
“Uh huh.”
“Guess that’s gonna take some work though, huh?”
“No shit.” You rolled your eyes and then sighed as you settled against him once again. “There’s a reason you asked, Ed. What’s going on in that big head of yours?”
He ran his tongue along the seam of his lips repeatedly as he considered…everything that was laid out in front of him.
Corroded Coffin.
Tape World.
What about Hellfire? Damn, he knew Dustin and Will were the future of the club but…a few years down the line. What about next year? He was gonna have to pass the torch to Gare or Dave after he left. They weren’t ready yet.
And what was he gonna do after school was over? Could he see himself taking a class at TCCC? Maybe. Jeff had been showing him the Catalog at lunch the other day. There was a Creative Writing course that looked cool.
10 years.
That was half his life away. Impossible to imagine. Would there be flying cars by then? Space travel? He could enlist in Starfleet, meet Captain Kirk. Ok maybe that last one was stupid.
"10 years,” Eddie whispered into the top of your head as he rid himself of the fantastical thoughts. “That’s an awful long time.”
“Well it’s a good thing we have all that time to figure it out.”
We…
“Yeah. Yeah we do.”
He could only hope you’d still be there with him. One way or another.
---
July 1987
The spot lights were blinding and the air thick with humidity; his throat was dry and his fingers ached from how hard he was on the fretboard.
But the crowd was cheering and that’s all that mattered right?
No, what really mattered was the music.
And the band.
That's why he was up here with his friends, demolishing the bridge of The Sentinel, laughing and jumping and barely giving a shit when he missed a note or Jeff’s fingers fumbled or Gareth lost the beat for a second. He didn't even mind that the County Clerk had them censor out the "cuss words" of the songs they'd chosen.
It was exhilarating just to be able to play on an actual stage.
It had taken 2 years but they were finally playing at the Roane County 4th of July Festival. An actual gig. And not the first one they'd played, but certainly the biggest so far. Big enough and successful enough that Eddie expected it to be a standing gig for the foreseeable future.
The Polka Band from Kenosha hadn't gotten nearly half as many people and they were, by far, the most successful act of the night before Corroded Coffin.
There was a sea of friends, neighbors, families, and out-of-towners just below the stage, snacks and drinks in-hand, as they danced and jumped and headbanged to song after song. Rick and Wayne were out at Benny's getting all set up for the next stop on Corroded Coffin's "Independence Day Tour" but you were out there in the crowd with Mindy and her family, singing along and cheering louder than everyone whenever a song ended.
Which was why Eddie didn't hesitate to dedicate the final song of the set to you.
"This next one isn't our usual sound," he spoke into the microphone, words a little muffled as his lips brushed against it. "It's a little slow. Something you can dance to, so gentlemen please grab your ladies, tell them how much you love them. But before we begin...did you all know...it's almost Back to School time."
There was a series of boo's from the crowd.
"Now now, maybe yet not for you all, but definitely for a special someone out there," he shushed them and traded Sweetheart for his mom's old acoustic guitar. He plucked a few notes and then continued. "A special someone...who leaves me all alone every once in a while. Late nights. Lonely nights while I wait by the phone, as she and her team make magic happen and she forgets all about me. See I'm saying all of this because she's about to leave me high and dry this coming Sunday night, so I have to guilt her a little otherwise she won't let me surprise her with hash browns and coffee when she gets out of work.
"Queen of Glitter Kingdom," Eddie squinted and looked around the crowd until he found you standing there holding your hand over Mindy's mouth as she looked like she was about to cry. He pointed right at you. "My life, my world, my cheeseburger. This one's for you."
He and Jeff then began to harmonize their guitars for the opening of Beth.
---
"You're a shithead, you know that."
"Mmm...but I'm your shithead, sweetheart."
It was late. Wayne, Rick, and the guys had all left. You and Eddie were sitting across from each other in a booth at Benny's, as the last few fair-goers trickled in for a late night snack. Your own dinner sat half-eaten on the table between you--patty melts and an apple pie shake to share--as you talked and laughed and played footsie.
He and the boys needed to rush across town after their set was over so they made it in time for Ben's advertised happy hour, so he hadn't gotten the chance to get an earful or a kiss from you after his little spectacle.
Fortunately, you were giving him hell for it now, and although he was wiped, he gladly accepted your teasing wrath.
"Is Wayne still around?" You turned in your seat and looked at the sparse group of customers. "I'd like to make a return."
"Mmm...well I moved out in January so I think it's after the 90-day return policy," he said matter-of-factly.
"God damn it," you laughed and snapped your fingers. "And I think I lost the receipt too."
"Stuck with me forever," he teased in a sing-song. There was a beat and he straightened up in his seat and drummed a rhythm on the table with his knuckles. "So...I think it went well."
"I think so too," you agreed brightly.
"You know, Jeff found some...Septemberfest thing out in Jasper..."
Your eyes sparkled at Eddie's words, and he felt the flutter of butterflies deep inside of him that always kicked up when you gave him your excitement and encouragement.
“It’s not a competition or anything but there’s a prize for most popular act of the weekend. Audience ballot and everything. I think it would be cool.”
"That's great!" you grinned. "You should go for it."
"But it's Labor Day weekend."
"So?"
"Paulie's going for a promotion," he shrugged. "Kyle's gonna want us all there in case Jeff comes for a visit."
"And? I didn't know Paulie was planning on opening for Corroded Coffin. What's he playing? The kazoo?" you joked.
"Well no," Eddie shook his head. "But if he leaves...I mean, I'm the best bet for FTASM. I don't want to lose out on that for the future. That'd be...the money would be nice. Can do some repairs on the van. Maybe I'd get my own store someday too."
Your face crumpled--brows furrowed and lips pursed--and you didn't hesitate to shuffle out from your side of the booth and kneel beside him on his. You placed a hand on his forehead for a moment and then tilted his head back and forth.
"Uh, sweetheart," he placed a hand on your waist to steady you as you shuffled closer to pull the back the neck of his t-shirt to look for something. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to see if my Rockstar Eddie Munson action figure is broken," you explained.
"Uhhh."
"Or at least if I accidentally left him at the fair and picked up a Corporate Shill Eddie action figure instead?"
"What?" he laughed.
"How about Suburban Dad Eddie?" you asked. You straightened your posture, pulled on non-existent suspenders, and lowered your voice comedically. "Gotta prepare for tax season. Cut the grass. Do some repairs on the van."
"Stop," he pulled you down to sit beside him in the booth. "I just...don't wanna take the chance on that when I know the full time position is a sure thing."
"Ed," you shook your head at him. "I know you like Tape World but...promotions always come around, music is your dream."
"I know."
"Why did you tell me about this Septemberfest thing if you were not gonna go through with it anyway?"
"I dunno," he turned away from you and went to grab the shake. "I guess I just wanted to pick the thing...that you'd be most proud of."
"Listen here mister," you grabbed him by the chin and made him look at you, Apple Pie Shake be damned. "I'm always gonna be proud of you and support you in whatever path you want."
He nodded for a second and then stole a kiss from you with a soft "I know, thank you." You let yourself get lost in the feeling for a second, but Eddie knew that you weren't gonna let him distract you from the discussion at hand.
You put a hand on his chest and pushed him away, then stared him directly in the eye.
"So?" you asked. "What kind of future do you want?"
His eyes darted between yours--your gaze hard and challenging but nonetheless filled with hope and affection--and he had his answer.
---
May 1989
You could feel Eddie fidget in the seat beside you.
"Calm down," you muttered to him.
"Can't help it," he whispered back; you could tell he straightened out his posture, but his knee still bounced. "Too excited."
A name was called over the loudspeaker, then another, then another.
"Eddie seriously," Gareth was the one to give it a shot this time, leaning across you to put a hand on Eddie's knee and get him to stop fidgeting. "You're gonna shit yourself if you don't stop."
"Shit, sorry, this is only like..." he shook his head. "The most important thing I've ever done in my life."
You, Gareth, Jeff, and Dave all shot him skeptical and unamused looks.
"I don't have time to argue right now," he scoffed at the rest of you. "Shut up, here it comes."
"Peter Halliwell...Dustin Henderson..."
All five of you jumped to your feet and cheered and clapped, along with another group a few rows up that consisted of Dustin's mom, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and their respective partners.
It was a repeat occurrence several times over that afternoon, as you witnessed the Hawkins High Class of '89 cross the stage and receive their diplomas.
"That's my kid," Eddie wiped a fake tear as each of his former Freshman Sheepies were called on stage, but he was especially emotional with Dustin. And when the newest DM of Hellfire flipped Higgins off before running off stage? Eddie stood on his chair and whooped and whistled. “That’s my boy!”
“Sit down Munson,” Higgins spoke into the microphone, over an audience that had become uproarious with laughter.
“It’s tradition now, Higgy,” Eddie shouted, words amplified by the hands he’d cupped around his mouth; still, he jumped down and took his seat so the rest of the ceremony could continue.
“You’re unbelievable,” you giggled at his antics. “You do know that right?”
“I’m unbelievably loveable,” he replied, quickly accompanied by the scoffs and mocking fart noises of his friends. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Unbelievably in love with you.”
“Uh huh.” His tongue snaked out and he licked into your ear obnoxiously. “Fuck off!” You pushed him away from you with a shrieking laugh.
It wasn’t long before that the real reason you were in attendance at the graduation walked across the stage. Because yes, the kids were your friends but you wouldn’t miss this for the world.
“Jane Hopper,” came the announcement and you, once again, got to your feet with a cheer, along with her family and friends in the next aisle of seats. Chief Hopper had his camcorder out and his shoulders visibly shook as he sobbed for his daughter, and you couldn’t help but feel your heartstrings pull.
If Dustin and the boys were Eddie’s little sheepies, you supposed Janey was one of yours. From a shy girl whose ears you’d pierced for the first time in your early days at StarCourt, to one of your die hard regulars who looked up to you over the years trying to emulate your style, to one of your associates when she came in for her first summer job at 16; you’d watched Jane grow and gain confidence and really come into her own.
That was the high point of your career as a Store Manager, and something you happily shared with Eddie: seeing the kids you took under your wing flourish.
“All the birds have flown the coop Mom,” Eddie teased as you sat down and actually wiped a tear from your cheek.
“I think you guys can cut the Mom and Dad bit now,” Jeff said matter-of-factly. “Until you guys have your own kids someday.”
That was something you and Eddie happily shared too.
The two of you looked at each other for a moment…before making the most exaggerated vomiting and gagging noises, unfortunately getting looks from the people around you.
“Pass,” you and Eddie announced in tandem.
---
After the ceremony was over, Chief Hopper invited everyone to the shared Hopper-Byers abode for a barbecue. And by everyone, it seemed like he literally invited the entire town to the lakeside cabin the family called home.
All of the kids and their friends and families, Benny was somehow there—had he closed the diner for the day? Good, he deserved a day off—a handful of Hop’s coworkers and friends, including Wayne and Rick.
There were hamburgers and beers, conversation and music overlapping one another.
Eddie was in his element though, and it warmed your heart to see him talk and spiel and be accepted by such a big group when, not so long ago, it seemed like he’d been shunned by them. Even now, you could see some hesitation as he stiffly talked with douchebag Callahan and Mike’s asshole dad, but he wasn’t sweating bullets or falling back on the pricklier parts of his personality. He even cracked a smile once or twice.
What would his life had been like if he’d had this all along?
It was silly to think about after you’d been dating for years but…would he have asked you out sooner? Would you even still be together now? You thought about the ways that the kids had grown into their own…but it wasn’t hard to also appreciate how much the two of you had grown side by side as well.
Especially when you considered the next step you were about to embark on together...
“You’re thinking too loud,” Eddie startled you as he snuck up behind you and dangled a fresh beer in your face. You shot him a scathing look but he easily recovered, back into your good graces, as he swooped an arm around your shoulder and pecked a kiss to your temple. “What’s got you all sour?”
“Not sour,” you shrugged and picked at the label on the beer bottle. “Just…I don’t know. Thinking."
"Always a bad idea."
"Reflecting.”
“Well you look like you’re about to tell someone to get fucked so…”
"Maybe I am," you grinned at him cheekily.
"As long as it isn't me." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "But you know it gets me going either way."
You slapped the back of your hand against his chest just as a gaggle of voices called your names.
Jane was the first one to run your way from across the yard, with Dustin and Lucas hot on her heels. They were all talking over one another, and Jane especially looked like she was about to burst into tears.
Eddie was the one to try to make sense of them, and he yelled a bellowing "shut up" that got them to stop their barrage.
"You're leaving?" Jane asked, looking directly at you. "Leaving Hawkins?"
"Uh," you paused and looked at Eddie, who held his hands up innocently.
"Gareth's got a big mouth," he reasoned.
"Of course he does," you rolled your eyes and then turned back to the kids. "Uh...yeah we are. At the end of the summer. I’m opening a new store. Again."
"What about you?" Dustin demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Eddie.
"Where my lady goes, I must follow," he stood tall and held a hand over his heart for a second, chivalrous as ever, before he took a sip of his beer and slumped back into his usual posture. "Besides, Corroded Coffin has a better chance in a bigger city. We're big fish in a small tank in Hawkins. Gonna pack up the van; give Chicago a chance to chew us up and spit us out."
Eddie and the boys bickered back and forth--gathering a small crowd of onlookers the longer it went--about the trip and the plans about where you'd all live and work while you stood there with Jane.
"How could you just leave?" she asked.
"Oh, honey, that's just...how it is," you reassured her. "I get a new assignment, Mindy takes over. And I'll be back to visit. Maybe you and Max will take a drive up for a weekend in the city."
"That'd be fun."
"It isn't goodbye."
"I know," she nodded somberly.
"Besides, you're going off to school in the fall," you reminded her. "You weren't meant to stay at StarCourt Mall forever, and I wouldn't want you too. You have a bright future ahead of you. I know it's scary, but it's all gonna work out. One way or another."
They were the same words that Jen had said to you before you embarked on your big adventure to Hawkins, and you were happy to pass the sentiment along to Jane.
"What about you?" she asked after a minute. "Your future? Are you afraid?"
That was the question, wasn't it? A new adventure, maybe in a more familiar setting but...a new challenge nonetheless. But you looked over at Eddie, who had both Dustin and Gareth in headlocks; his head was thrown back in obnoxious laughter and he gave you a shrug that said "how could I help myself" when he noticed you looking at him.
He was an idiot. But he was your idiot. And he'd be by your side for this next adventure, just like he promised he would be.
"No," you told her honestly. "I'm not afraid at all."
---
September 1990
"Alright, here's a question?"
"Shoot."
"When…is our anniversary?"
"Uhh...Ed..." You let the question hang awkwardly in the air, unasked, but Eddie could read your mind.
The two of you were symbiotic at this point; still, he was happy that you had no idea what he had in mind for the day.
"No hear me out," he took a few steps ahead and turned to walk backwards so he could look at you. "Because I really put some thought into it. If we're going by first dates, it's in January—”
“Like it has been for the past 4 years.”
“—but, if we're going by first kiss..."
"If we're going by first kiss, that was last week," you laughed and rolled your eyes. "So you’re late."
“Yeah,” he agreed wickedly wistfully. “I guess I am.”
Of course you remembered.
The two of you were walking. Exploring, actually, around the cemetery where your Papa enjoyed his eternal rest.
5 years and it was a lot easier now.
You still cried sometimes but the initial guilt was gone and you found enjoyment in spending the day traversing about the sprawling cemetery grounds, visiting this great uncle and that distant cousin, just like you did with Papa when he was still alive.
“Did he make sure he bought flowers for everyone he ever met?” Eddie had asked as you piled bunches and bunches of flowers into his arms at the florist that first visit after Papa passed, when you told Eddie of the tradition. “Aren’t they just gonna die?”
“This is why I don’t like flowers,” you explained. “They die. At least when they die here, the dead can still enjoy them.”
“Well shit, that’s a pretty metal thought baby,” he cooed softly and shuffled the bunches to hold them with some more care. “Can I put that in a song? I’ll dedicate it to you.”
He had and you’d cried when he first sang you the haunting ballad in the privacy of your living room.
Today, though…well you’d already made the rounds today. Only one stop left; the most important stop. Eddie had suggested taking the long way through the mausoleum—down hallways lined with plush red carpet and dated sofas and marble walls filled with the dead—partially for his own curiosity, and partially so he could build up the courage.
You were doing quite a good job distracting him from his nerves as you conversed easily—whatever thoughts popped up in either of your heads—and explained the differences between this Saint and that one as you passed their statues and depictions in stained glass. They all looked at him with serene eyes and he thought that meant this journey would be a successful one.
There would be no crying, if he could help it.
Maybe tears of joy? He could settle for that.
“So what has you thinking of anniversaries?” you finally asked as you sat on the tufted velvet ottoman in front of your grandparents' epitaph.
Eddie shrugged and looked around, absorbing the names and dates inscribed on the marble walls that surrounded him.
“Been a lot of milestones lately. It’s been a couple years since graduation, 5 years since your grandpa passed…” He trailed off for a moment. “Been a year since we moved…since we’ve both been at new stores.”
You gasped and he felt his heart stop in his chest.
“Is…are you thinking of quitting?” You asked with big eyes.
“What?”
“That new Hot Topical store they’re opening? Or whatever it's called? I saw you chatting with that District Manager in the food court the other day. Are you leaving TapeWorld? Eddie, that’s so exciting. You should…”
“No I’m not quitting,” he announced with finality, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“…nevermind then. Then what’s going on? You thinking of breaking up with me or something?”
“No.”
“Well I know you’re not proposing; you literally just wrote a song called Marriage is a Death Sentence.”
Your laughter echoed through the mausoleum but you stopped abruptly when Eddie didn’t join you.
He watched your expression change as you processed the thought. And when you looked back at him again he smiled nervously.
“Eddie…” you said hoarsely and then cleared your throat. “Eddie, you just wrote a song called Marriage is a Death Sentence.”
“About my parents,” he explained. “And how they did everything wrong.”
“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “A lot of people get it wrong. Marriage is a Death Sentence. Those are literally the lyrics. You’ve been singing it when you wash the dishes.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s catchy.”
“It is, isn’t it? But...while I was working on it...it got me thinking that…I mean…just because they got it wrong, and a lot of other people do, doesn’t mean we will.”
You said his name almost desperately now.
"A-and," he continued. "W-we don't have to get married but...I don't know. Spending the rest of my life with you sounds pretty great."
He pulled one hand out of his pocket casually and with it came a small ring box. He shook it a few times and held it out to you.
There were a bevy of emotions cycling your face, all of them undecipherable, until you settled on shock.
Good shock...hopefully.
“You’re supposed to get down on one knee I think,” you whispered again.
Yeah...good shock.
He let out a sigh of relief.
“Yeah but what if it isn’t a ring? What if this is all just a red herring? What if I had to get one of my teeth pulled and it's in here?”
You let out a shocked laugh and your brows hitched together in question.
"Did you put a tooth in there?"
"I don't know...seems as likely as any other potential surprise."
“Is it another cootie catcher?” you guessed.
“Only one way to find out.”
He shook the box again.
You slowly took it from him, fingers deliberately brushing against his which caused his heart to race.
He felt lightheaded when you opened the lid.
You smiled so brightly, he swore you rivaled the sun.
“Oh…Eddie…”
---
December 1992
"So what'd you do?"
"What makes you think I did something?"
"I love you son," Wayne sighed and leant against the counter. "But you always do something."
It was Christmas. The worst time of year for both you and Eddie. Long shifts, angry customers, restless coworkers...but a standing promise to make it back to Hawkins for the holiday had been the light at the end of the tunnel. Especially since Wayne and Rick had come out to see you for the past few years.
It was tough but you and Eddie made it work; hit the road right after your Christmas Eve shifts had ended, fallen into bed as soon as you'd arrived at Rick's close to midnight.
And you didn't need to be back to work until the 27th.
It was a perfect little getaway.
Except it hadn't been perfect.
Because you hadn't been talking to each other past the standard "good mornings" and "see you tonights" all week. The drive had been made in silence. And you chose to sit as far as you could from him during Christmas dinner, opting to sit beside Wayne and chat all night, instead of right next to him like you always did.
And unfortunately, yeah...it'd been Eddie's fault.
Eddie knew that, and usually he could admit it easily. Fights between the two of you were few and far between, and you had a good track record for recovering from them. For some reason though, this time was different, and it was hard for him to admit how badly he'd fucked up.
Wayne could see right through the two of you, though. Especially through his nephew. No matter how good you thought you were at hiding it.
"There was this...big opportunity we could have had," Eddie began his explanation calmly. "But it wasn't a sure thing."
"Oh yeah?" Wayne hummed. "How big?"
"Big. Like...a once-in-a-lifetime thing. An underground show a buddy of mine heard about it through the grapevine. Said they were looking for an opening act. Wanted to throw me a bone." He hit the counter with his fist gently. "But...he got his wires crossed. Told me it was tonight. So it meant we'd need to miss Christmas. But it's really next week."
"Hmmm..." Wayne nodded sagely and kept listening.
Eddie suddenly felt uncomfortable at the tone though, and became desperate for his uncle to understand.
Understand that he hadn't meant to hurt you.
"Work's been hard this season Wayne," Eddie continued with an edge to his voice. "Made me realize that I don't wanna do this forever. I wanna make music. You know that. It's been my dream forever."
"I know it has."
"Me and the guys. Our dream."
"What'd you say to her?" Wayne asked suddenly, as he lifted the mug of eggnog to his lips.
His knowing gaze made Eddie fidget and harsh words echo through his memory.
"Why can't you understand? This is huge for us. How can we say no?"
"I didn't say you had to pass it up, I just said it was a shame that we'll miss Christmas."
"You don't have to miss Christmas, you can just go to your aunt's if you don't want to go to the show."
"You know what I mean. You know Wayne and Rick look forward to seeing--"
"Wayne and Rick would understand how big this is. Why can't you? Why the fuck do you care anyways? It's not like they're your family!"
Wayne swallowed a mouthful of eggnog and then his lips pressed together tightly with a long exhale. Eddie turned to watch you and Rick chatter while you organized the gifts into neat little piles; even though you were avoiding each other, seeing your smile made him feel a lot better than his uncle's intense stare.
"I fucked up," he croaked. "I know."
"How're you gonna fix it?" Wayne asked.
"That I don't know."
Wayne sighed and clapped a hand on Eddie's shoulder.
"I would suggest," he leant in close and his voice rumbled, the same way it always did when Eddie would get in trouble growing up. The few times Wayne needed to intervene at all. "I would suggest you start with I'm sorry."
---
Eddie stared up at the glow in the dark stars that were stuck to the ceiling of the old guest bedroom that used to be his designated room at Rick's once upon a time.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
He couldn't sleep.
He might have spent most of his life in Hawkins but a few years in and around Chicago and he'd gotten used to the sounds of traffic and trains and people walking around late at night.
And it might've been easier if you were closer to him than you were, if the sounds of your sleep-deepened breathing and the soft snores you always denied were in his ear. Instead you were lying on your side at the edge of the full bed, as far from him as you could get, equally as awake as he was if your near-silent breaths were any indicator.
He turned his head and watched you for a moment before he took a breath of courage.
"Sweetheart," he whispered. When there was no response, he said your name, a little louder this time. "You awake?"
There was silence...heavy silence...and then you responded.
"Mmmhmm." You shifted to look halfway over your shoulder at him. "It's too quiet."
"I was just thinking that."
"Hmmm."
"I've got...a lot on my mind too."
"Yeah?" you turned fully now, lying on your back just like him; your shoulders touched but you refused to look at him. "What about?"
"I was thinking..."
What was he thinking? A lot of things. How to start an apology, how to fix this. How to make tomorrow better so your Christmas wasn't ruined.
"...that at least when we fight fight, we still talk to each other afterwards."
You scoffed and he closed his eyes, cursing himself and his big mouth.
"That...wasn't the right thing to say."
"No it wasn't," you sassed him immediately.
"It wasn't what I wanted to say either," he quickly added. "I wanted to say...that I'm sorry."
"I know."
"You do?"
"Aside from the fact that I know you too well," you began. "Rick was trying to get me to forgive you all night."
"Why did he think I did something?" Eddie asked incredulously.
"Because you always do something."
"God damn it, did Rick say that? Wayne said the same thing."
The two of you laughed together for the first time in days, and as you settled down, Eddie reached over and took your hand in his. He threaded your fingers together and rubbed his thumb back and forth to soothe you.
"I'm sorry that I...that I was a thick-headed, stubborn, big-mouthed idiot who hurt your feelings," he apologized. "I know that we've both been under pressure but there's no excuse. I could've been more level-headed, but I wasn't and I hurt you."
"Yeah well," you squeezed his hand tightly as you responded, "I guess I'm not innocent here either. I could have...been more excited for you, supportive. Instead of trying to make it about Christmas. I was thinking about how desperate I was to get away from work, excited to be back here. And it's no excuse. I'm sorry too."
"Yeah but I told you Wayne and Rick weren't your family."
"Well I told you--"
"Are we gonna fight again?" Eddie stopped you before you could get ahead of yourself. You huffed a soft "no" and melted into the bed, all tension in your body gone. "Did you like your Christmas gift?"
"Jesus." He could hear you rolling your eyes.
"Well did you?"
"Duh," you deadpanned. "Did you like yours?"
"Uh, duh," he parroted, a little more exaggeratedly. "You didn't give me a kiss though."
"Well you didn't give me a kiss either," you retorted, but you were already rolling over so you could close the distance and seal your lips against his.
The two of you showered one another with more whispered apologies and words of devotion before you got ahead of yourselves.
Clothes were shed, soft caresses shared, and lips lavished over the most sensitive parts of you.
You still liked it when you dragged your teeth along the shaft of his cock a little and got him to beg, and then Eddie returned the favor when he sucked a bruising hickey to your nipple that made you squeal and call him a god.
The two of you had lived on your own for so long that it was good fun trying to keep your voices down, or make sure the bed didn't slide across the hardwood floors with your passionate fucking.
And all slights were soothed when you reached the height of pleasure together, and whispered sweet words of affection and forgiveness as you descended back to earth.
Come morning, Wayne obnoxiously asked when the two of you were planning to hit the road back to Chicago.
"It's been a good while since I lost sleep thanks to your spirited activities," he noted, embarrassing the two of you in front of Rick. "No more fighting when you come back to visit in the future alright? I miss you dearly, but I can't say I miss that at all.”
---
April 1993
"It took you guys long enough," Dustin announced as he threw open the door.
“You know what, you try sitting in a rusty old shitbox with a bunch of musicians that still act like they're teenagers for 10 hours," you deadpanned and then pushed past the guys as they protested to pull Dustin into a hug. "Happy housewarming, congratulations."
It was Spring Break.
Well for the kids it was--although, they weren't really kids anymore were they--but for you and the guys, it was more like a long weekend. You'd scheduled yourself off for a few days, Eddie'd requested the whole week off, Jeff and Dave had traded shifts with coworkers, and Gareth simply quit his job.
"I'll find a new one," he reassured everyone, including his girlfriend, on St. Patrick's Day when he announced his departure before he and the guys had gotten on stage to play for a crowded pub in the suburbs.
It had been a headache and a half to get everything in order and everyone in the right place at the right time, but you were all here for one thing and one thing only.
Dustin's first apartment.
A Hellfire Club Reunion.
And a special one-shot that Dustin and Eddie had spent hours on the phone planning for the past few months.
Months.
You didn't think you'd been invited at first, but when Dustin told Eddie the full guest list, Eddie volunteered your attendance immediately.
Your forays into Dungeons and Dragons were few and far between; never a big campaign, only the one-shots that Eddie had put together here and there for the guys or a few coworkers who were interested. And this would be the first time that you played with such a big group. Or such an experienced group.
You were nervous.
"You'll do great," Eddie reassured you as he plucked snack cakes and sodas off the gas station shelves for snacks on the road. "I know the roleplaying is not your strongest suit, but it's just Henderson and the gang."
Now you were here and your nerves melted as you slipped further into mother hen mode the longer you looked around at what was obviously the apartment of college students. It was a familiar sight; you, Eddie, and the guys had all crammed into a duplex when you'd moved to Chicago and you'd had your fair share of pizza boxes stacked in the corners before garbage day and underwear of questionable origin and cleanliness tucked into the cracks of the sofa.
But that was a time long since passed and seeing it now made your fingers itch.
And your ears ring.
"...be here soon and I figured that you'd be here first to help me set u--Mom you ok?" Dustin stopped his chattering when he noticed you were frozen in the door of the living room. He glanced around the space that would soon host all of his friends. "Oh...yeah I should probably clean up a little more. To be fair, most of this isn't my mess."
You felt your eye twitch at his dismissive laugh.
"Jesus Henderson, didn't you just move in January?" Jeff asked when he saw the sorry state.
The boys all started giving Dustin shit, and Eddie had the foresight to put a hand on your shoulder and steer you back towards the door.
"We're gonna go take a quick smoke break; why don't you four nerds try to get this place looking a little more Hellfire appropriate in the mean time, m'kay?" he ordered them with faux sincerity. "We brought those props you asked for Dustin."
You heard the faint, sorry Mom, come from the boys as Eddie got you outside.
---
Eddie was extremely attentive and was quick to take charge of the ragtag group, running back and forth between the little stoop where you'd essentially set up camp right outside of the building, and back up to Dustin's apartment to make sure the cleaning and setup were underway.
"Hey listen, you boss enough people around at work," he reassured you when you insisted that you'd be alright to go back in. "You don't need to do it on your day off too."
You proved to be useful enough as the other started to arrive, little by little.
Max and Lucas had flown in from California and arrived via cab.
"It kind of sucks when the place you live is the place everyone else goes on vacation," Lucas laughed good-naturedly.
His younger sister Erica, who you remember from her days of buying scrunchies and glitter makeup, was now grown up and toted an entire kit filled with binders and notebooks and dice.
"It's my first ever Spring Break," she sniffed. "I could have been in Miami with my friends. But...I wouldn't miss this for the world, so it better be worth it."
Mike and Will drove up in the Wheeler's old station wagon, their siblings in tow in the backseat; Nancy and Jonathan had apparently been broken up for some time now.
It apparently had been an awkward drive for all of them.
Jane unexpectedly arrived with a new love interest friend and was beyond ecstatic to see you, barely letting you get a question in as she told you about everything she'd been up to.
Robin was unfortunately absent, but sent her regards along with the last person to arrive. Someone who you honestly didn't expect to see at all, but who had pulled up in a shiny new car, sporting a wedding band and a mustache: Steve Harrington.
"Look what the cat dragged in," you greeted with a smile. You pointed at the wedding band. "Seems like you don't need my relationship advice anymore."
"Same relationship," he chuckled and shrugged, suddenly bashful.
"No shit," you laughed. "Congratulations."
"Congrats to you too," he pointed to the ring on your own finger but you waved him off dismissively.
"Marriage is a Death Sentence. This is just...symbolic more than anything. We both know we're not going anywhere."
"Get more of a deduction on your tax return if you guys do tie the knot."
"Alright Ned Flanders," you rolled your eyes. "Taxes are a death sentence too. I'll ask Ed to write that song and dedicate it to you."
"By all means, I'm actually an accountant now. Maybe it'll get me some more clients."
You cackled.
You and Steve made some casual chit chat as you walked up to join the others now that everyone had arrived.
The apartment looked worlds different, especially with the abundance of candles that surrounded the table you all crowded around.
Dustin was taking the lead with this one, his DM screens in ominous abundance as he sat at the head of the table and filed through stacks of papers.
You looked around at all of your friends...really all of Eddie's friends who had become your friends, your family. It was nice to see them all in one place again.
Then you looked at Eddie himself, who looked right at home surrounded by them all. Laughing and spieling and picking on them with bright, glowing fondness that radiated off of him. You didn't think you could feel any more love for him, but suddenly in that moment, your cup overflowed.
He deserved this; deserved all of this...all of the love you all had to give and share with him because he loved you all so hard in return.
You took your seat beside him and grinned and patted your knee encouragingly.
"Perfect timing, sweetheart," he announced. "Hope you're ready to get absolutely obliterated."
Dustin hit a button on the stereo he'd set up beside him and everyone started to cheer as music and sounds created the ambiance of the adventure you were about to embark on.
"Welcome friends as we revisit a grand adventure of old tonight," Dustin began. "As we venture deep into Greyhawk and come face to face a great evil once defeated. Timelines have shifted, and what you might remember from the past is no longer what it seems; it will take great courage and strength to overcome challenges that you'd previously faced with ease. Are you up for the challenge?"
Everyone cheered again."
"Good," he said with a guttural groan, eyes rolling back in his head dramatically. "Then let us begin on our quest to face...The Cult of Vecna."
---
May 1995
It was like deja vu.
Maybe because he'd done this a thousand times, just not recently. It'd been years since he'd worked at the Mall, after all, and the muscle memory might have been a little out of practice, but it was still there.
He ran up the stalled escalator, long legs skipping every other step, until he reached the top, out of breath.
"Fuck," he bent over with his hands on his knees, panting. "Fuck. This is why I gotta quit smoking."
He'd taken the day off to surprise you; he and the guys were supposed to be recording today--their first album; it'd taken long enough--but this was bigger and he wanted to be there for you.
Needed to be there.
It wasn't every day that his best friend and beloved--the love of his life--his dear Store Manager...wasn't going to be a Store Manager anymore.
You'd both broken the news to each other on the same day. For weeks you'd only mentioned small developments in passing, never letting your hopes get too high just in case of a let down.
"We're getting signed," he announced as you'd collided into one another outside of your apartment building. "It's happening we're getting signed and we're gonna make a whole fucking album sweetheart!"
"Oh my god!" you shrieked. "Holy shit Ed!"
"No more weird touring schedules for fests, no more begging to get a song on the radio during the 3am broadcast, it's happening!" He cupped your cheeks and peppered kisses around your face.
"It's happening for me too," you laughed and tried to shake him away. "I got the job."
"What?!" he squished your cheeks harder until you jabbed him lightly in the stomach to get him to let you go.
"I got the job," you laughed, head tilted back as you announced it to the world. "Eddie, baby...you're looking at the new associate manager of Visual Development."
You'd spent the night indulging on a deep dish pizza, fucking making love, and talking about the future.
Maybe you could buy a house...maybe you could get a puppy...take an actual vacation someplace and not just a weekend trip to the Dells or wherever Corroded could find a gig...the possibilities were endless...
But from that moment on, it was a whirlwind.
The band had gotten started right away, signing contracts and working with the small label that had seen their potential and believed in them.
And now, a few weeks later, it was here. Your big day. Your last day as a Store Manager at Claire's, before you went off to their home offices to tell people what color scrunchie was gonna be big for the season.
There were a bunch of purple and pink balloons tied to the sandwich board outside of your store, and as Eddie got closer, he could hear snippets of conversation as your associates asked you about your new position.
"Have you seen your office yet?"
"Yeah, I have," you laughed.
"Is the desk pink?"
"No but the walls are."
"Do you get your own cell phone?"
"Probably not. I'm not the CEO guys. I'm just a manager."
"Are you gonna have to wear business suits?"
"No," Eddie answered for you as he quickly snuck up behind you. You jumped as his arms wrapped around your waist, but you quickly melted into the embrace. "But she's not gonna have to wear clothes from Seventeen Magazine anymore either."
"Yeah," you sighed. "It really sucks to wear clothes from the juniors department once you're past 30. They're just not made the same way."
"Gotta take your word for it sweetheart, I'm not 30 for another few months," he blew a raspberry against the side of your neck and squeezed you tightly in his embrace.
Your associates all sighed dreamily at the sight of the two of you canoodling—power couple who?—and Eddie was thankful for this once-in-a-lifetime chance that you wouldn't just swat him away for PDA while you were on the salesfloor.
"I'm sorry this is coming from the man who still dresses the same as he did when he was 17," you laughed and reached back to pluck at his battle vest that had only accumulated more pins and patches over the years.
"I'm very sorry that I'm not trendy, sweetheart." He kissed your cheek. "But I'm what you would call timeless."
"I'd like a divorce." You pulled his left hand away from your torso so you could attempt to pull the band off his ring finger. "Effective immediately."
"We're not married," he murmured teasingly in your ear. "Or did you forget?"
"You finally gonna seal the deal Munson?" you whispered back. "It's only been 10 years."
"Just so you can file for divorce? I don't think so."
"What if I trade you my longevity pin? I think it would look nice on your vest."
"How about...I take you to lunch first?" he asked, voice back to its normal volume. "And we negotiate the terms and conditions? She's got her big corporate lady pants on, trying to get me to sign a contract."
"I guess I could pencil you in," you feigned annoyance and then looked to your assistant manager. "Let me ask my secretary."
Both you and Eddie stared at them expectantly.
"Get out of here," they laughed at your antics. "Before I kick you out; so sweet, you guys make me gag sometimes."
---
The rest of your final shift was eventful, and Eddie sat in the chair of the Ear Piercing station while you chatted with your regular customers and received one visitor after another.
Old employees and coworkers, your mom who made you take a picture with the whole team, and then a very cheesy one with Eddie who dipped you for a kiss at the very last second.
Jen had come around close to 5 to bring even more balloons and a cake, and had made jokes that she was gonna have to haunt the corporate offices even more now.
"So we can talk shit, obviously," she joked.
Eddie had called Kyle up, who was now managing a store in Milwaukee, to tell him both bits of good news and Kyle had made the drive down to bring a sentimental gift to both of you on your last day.
A picture frame with a collage of polaroids from your years at StarCourt. There was a filmstrip from one of the photo-booths that depicted a younger you and Eddie, making funny faces and staring longingly at one another.
"You left this in the stock room once upon a time," he told Eddie as he pointed it out specifically. "That was before you were dating too. I squirreled it away and forgot about it but was gonna keep it in case you never got the courage to ask her out. And look at the two of you now."
"Yeah, Eddie watched you as you caressed the glass. "Look at us now."
"I still think I should have won the bet," Kyle sniffed bitterly.
You had scheduled yourself to close, and you were expertly restocking the scrunchie wall as the last few customers shopped.
Eddie kept snaking his arms around you and switching this scrunchie here for that one there, and you'd whine and complain about him messing up the color flow. Still, you never made any effort to stop him, and each time you stomped your foot petulantly, he would drop a smooch right on your cheek to "earn" your forgiveness.
"You know, this is what I was doing when we first met," you recalled after a few kisses. "Officially met."
"What?" Eddie asked.
"Restocking scrunchies."
"You sure?" he frowned and tried to think back. He vaguely recalled...bracelets of some sort...or had he just been looking at the jewelry. He'd been so nervous to ask you out back then...it was all a blur.
And he hadn't really even asked you out at that time either. Jesus Christ, what a loser he'd been.
Where would the two of you be now if only he hadn't fumbled on that first not-date? Right where you were now? Maybe broken up? A lot of the growing the two of you had done had been done with the soft buffer of friendship first...it almost caused his heart to ache to think that they might have caused an end to a relationship if things had been different.
Because now he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you.
"You still haven't let me pierce your ears," you leaned in close to him, nose brushing against his, and teased him.
Eddie froze and then backed away.
"Well," he licked over his bottom lip pensively. "It is your last day...the last hour of your shift too...I think I could be persuaded."
You squealed and ran to get the forms ready. You didn't even let him fill them out, you just pushed him back into the seat he'd been occupying all day as you got it all ready.
"No more being afraid of needles babe," you cackled, the kind of cackle he'd only ever heard when you were being especially devious or evil.
"I have tattoos," he argued, trying to stand from the chair in protest, but you pressed your hand to his chest to get him to sit back down. "I have a ton of tattoos; if I was afraid of needles I wouldn't. Your logic is flawed."
"Yeah ok Spock," you dismissed his reasoning. "This one takes a chunk out of you though, so it's different."
"What argument are you trying to win here baby? Are you trying to get me to get my ears pierced or are you trying to get me to admit I'm afraid."
"Dealers Choice."
"You're lucky I love you," he grumbled.
You were silent for a while as you marked his ears, as you snapped on your gloves, and readied the piercing gun.
Was he afraid? No. He trusted you. But damn if the anticipation wasn't making him sweat a little.
Eddie closed his eyes as he prepared himself for the next step, but you paused and made one quick run across the store before returning.
"Alright I have one last important question to ask you," you began, and he peeped an eye open to see you standing there with your hands behind your back. "It's the age old question and I don't think we ever got a solid answer."
You revealed your plunder and then stared at him expectantly.
"Take your pick: broken hearts or gummy bears."
Eddie went soft as he stared at the two sets of studs backed by purple carding: little black broken hearts and the neon green gummy bears.
It was the age old question wasn't it? The first question he asked you before he even asked you out.
"See, if it was still 1985," he tilted his head back and forth, "I think this would be a hard one to figure out."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. But uh," he reached out and pointed to his choice. "Now it's a no brainer."
"Seriously?" you laughed.
"Seriously."
"And why are you, Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, the most metal band on Earth, picking the Gummy Bears?"
"Sweetheart," he singsonged, pausing for dramatic effect. "I think you know."
"I don't think I do," you parroted.
"Ugh," he scoffed and turned his head. "I guess I am the more romantic of the two of us."
"Answer the question, Cassanova."
"Sweetheart," he turned back to you, hand over his heart. "It has to be the gummy bears."
"Has to be?"
"Must be."
"Because..."
"Because I can confidently say that my heart is never gonna be broken if I have you around."
Your challenging gaze softened and Eddie swore that he saw tears at the corners of your eyes. For a moment he didn't know if you were gonna kiss him or start crying.
"Shut the fuck up," your associate shouted from across the store, ruining the sweet moment. "That was so adorable. Oh my god."
"Language Chels!" you scolded her good-naturedly.
And then, in those last few minutes of your career as a store manager, you kissed Eddie softly on his forehead...on his lips...and then punched holes right through both of his earlobes in rapid succession.
"Fuck!" He screamed. "Fuck!"
"I love you," you chuckled at him.
"Yeah. Love you too..." he grimaced. "Fuck! I love you."
---
Thank you for reading The Store Manager Verse.
#store manager verse#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#Eddie Munson smut#Eddie Munson fic#stranger things fic
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Brinklump Linkdump
Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.
Life comes at you fast, links come at you faster. Once again, I've arrived at Saturday with a giant backlog of links I didn't fit in this week, so it's time for a linkdump, the 14th in the series:
https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/
It's the Year of Our Gourd twenty and twenty-four and holy shit, is rampant corporate power rampant. On January 1, the inbred droolers of Big Pharma shat out their annual price increases, as cataloged in 46Brooklyn's latest Brand Drug List Price Change Box Score:
https://www.46brooklyn.com/branddrug-boxscore
Here's the deal: drugs that have already been developed, brought to market, and paid off are now getting more expensive. Why? Because the pharma companies have "pricing power," the most reliable indicator of monopoly. Ed Cara rounds up the highlights for Gizmodo:
https://gizmodo.com/ozempic-wegovy-wellbutrin-oxycontin-drug-price-increase-1851179427
What's going up? Well, Ozempic and other GLP-1 agonists. These drugs have made untold billions for their manufacturers, so naturally, they're raising the price. That's how markets work, right? When firms increase the volume of a product, the price goes up? Right? Other drugs that are going up include Wellbutrin (an antidepressant that's also widely used in smoking cessation) and the blood thinner Plavix. I mean, why the hell not? These companies get billions in research subsidies, invaluable government patent privileges, and near-total freedom to abuse the patent system with evergreening:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/23/everorangeing/#taste-the-rainbow
The most amazing things about monopolies is how the contempt just oozes out of them. It's like these guys can't even pretend to give a shit. You want guillotines? Because that's how you get guillotines.
Take Apple. They just got their asses handed to them in court by Epic, who successfully argued that Apple's rule requiring everyone who sells through the App Store to use Apple's payment processor and pay Apple 30% out of every dollar they bring in was an antitrust violation. Epic won, then won the appeal, then SCOTUS told Apple they wouldn't hear the case, so that's that.
Right? Wrong. Apple's pulled a malicious compliance stunt that could shame the surly drunks my great-aunt Lisa used to boss in the Soviet electrical engineering firm she ran. Apple has announced that app companies that process transactions using their own payment processors on the web must still pay Apple a 27% fee for every dollar their process:
https://finance.yahoo.com/news/apples-app-store-rule-changes-draw-sharp-rebuke-from-critics-150047160.html
In addition, Apple will throw a terrifying FUD-screen up every time a user clicks a payment link that goes to the web:
https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/second-verse-same-as-the-first/
This is obviously not what the court had in mind, and there's no way this will survive the next court challenge. It's just Apple making sure that everyone knows it hates us all and wants us to die. Thanks, Tim Apple, and right back atcha.
Not to be outdone in the monopolistic mustache-twirling department, Ubisoft just announced that it is going to shut down its driving simulator game The Crew, which it sold to users with a "perpetual license":
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqyvquTEVU
This is some real Darth Vader MBA shit. "Yeah, we sold you a 'perpetual license' to this game, but we're terminating it. I have altered the deal. Pray I don't alter it further":
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/26/hit-with-a-brick/#graceful-failure
Ubisoft sure are innovators. They've managed the seemingly impossible feat of hybridizing Darth Vader and Immortan Joe. Ubisoft's head of subscriptions, the guillotine-ready Philippe Tremblay, told GamesIndustry.biz that gamers need to get "comfortable" with "not owning their games":
https://www.gamesindustry.biz/the-new-ubisoft-and-getting-gamers-comfortable-with-not-owning-their-games
Or, as Immortan Joe put it: "Do not, my friends, become addicted to water. It will take hold of you, and you will resent its absence!"
Capitalism without constraint is enshittification's handmaiden, and the latest victim is Ello, the "indie" social media startup that literally promised – on the sacred honor of its founders – that it would never sell out its users. When Ello took VC and Andy Baio questioned how this could be squared with this promise, the founders mocked him and others for raising the question. Their response boiled down to "we are super-chill dudes and you can totally trust us."
They raised more capital, and used that to create a nice place for independent artists, who piled into the platform and provided millions of unpaid hours of creative labor to help the founders increase its value. The founders and their investors turned the company into a Public Benefit Corporation, which meant they had an obligation to serve the public benefit.
But then they took more investment money and simply (and silently) sold their assets to a for-profit. Struggling to raise capital, the founders opted to secretly sell the business to a sleazy branding company called Talenthouse. Its users didn't know about the change, though the site sure had a lot of Talenthouse design competitions all of a sudden.
Finally, the company announced the change as the last founders left. Rather than announcing that the new owners were untrustworthy scum, warning their users to get their data and get out, the founders posted oblique, ominous statements to Instagram. The company started stiffing the winners of those design competitions. Then, one day, poof, Ello disappeared, taking all its users' data with it. Poof:
https://waxy.org/2024/01/the-quiet-death-of-ellos-big-dreams/
I'm sure the founders' decisions each seemed reasonable at the moment. That's every terrible situation arises: you rationalize that a single compromise isn't that big of a deal, and then you do the same for the next compromise, and the next, and the next. Pretty soon, you're betraying everyone who believed in you.
One answer to this is "Ulysses pacts": making binding commitments to do right before you are tempted. Throw away all your Oreos when you go on a diet and you can't be tempted to eat a whole sleeve of them at 2AM. License your software under the GPL and your investors can't force you to make it proprietary. Set up a warrant canary and the feds can't force you to keep their spying secret:
https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/
If the founders were determined to build a trustworthy, open, independent company, they could have published their quarterly books, livestreamed their staff meetings, built data-export tools that emailed users every week with a link to download everything they'd posted since the last week. Merely halting any of these practices would have been a signal that things were wrong. Anyone who says they won't be tempted in the moment to make a "reasonable" compromise in the hopes of recovering whatever they're trading away by living to fight another day is bullshitting you, and possibly themself.
The inability to project the consequences of your bad decisions in the future is the source of endless mischief and heartbreak. Take movie projectors. A couple decades ago, the studio cartel established a standard for digital movie distribution to cinematic exhibitors called the Digital Cinema Initiative. Because studio executives are more worried about stopping piracy than they are about making sure that people who pay for movies get to see them, they build digital rights management into this standard.
Movie theaters had to spend fortunes to upgrade to "secure" projectors. A single vendor, Deluxe Technicolor, monopolized the packaging of movies into "Digital Cinema Prints" for distribution to these projectors, and they used all kinds of dirty tricks to force distributors to use their services, like arbitrarily flunking third-party DCPs over picky shit like not starting and ending on a black frame.
Over time, the ability to use unencrypted files was stripped away, meaning every DCP needed to be encrypted, and every projector needed to have up-to-date decryption keys. This system broke down on Jan 1, 2024, and cinemas all over the world found they couldn't play Wonka. Many just shut down for the day and refunded their customers:
https://www.theverge.com/2024/1/1/24021915/alamo-drafthouse-outage-sony-projector
The problem? Something that every PKI system has to wrangle: an expired certificate from Deluxe Technicolor. The failure has been dubbed the Y2K24 debacle by projectionists and film-techs, who are furious:
http://www.film-tech.com/vbb/forum/main-forum/34652-the-y2k24-bug-major-digital-outage-today
Making everything worse is that Sony mothballed the division that maintains its projectors, so there's no one who can update them to accommodate Technicolor's workaround. Struggling mom-and-pop theaters are having to junk their systems and replace them. There's plenty of blame to go around, but Sony is definitely the most negligent link in the chain. Shame on them.
Big corporations LARP this performance of competence and seriousness, but they are deeply unserious. This week, I wrote, "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week
Score one for team deeply unserious. The multinational delivery company DPD fired its support staff and replaced them with a chatbot. The chatbot can't tell you where your parcels are, but it can be prompt-injected into coming up with profane poems about how badly DPD sucks:
https://twitter.com/ashbeauchamp/status/1748034519104450874
There once was a chatbot named DPD,
Who was useless at providing help.
It could not track parcels,
Or give information on delivery dates,
And it could not even tell you when your driver would arrive.
DPD was a waste of time,
And a customer's worst nightmare.
It was so bad,
That people would rather call the depot directly,
Than deal with the useless chatbot.
One day, DPD was finally shut down,
And everyone rejoiced.
Finally, they could get the help they needed,
From a real person who knew what they were doing.
This is…the opposite of an AI hallucination? It's AI clarity.
As with all botshit, this kind of AI self-negging is funny and fresh the first time you see it, but just wait until 3,000 people have published their own versions to your social feed. AI novelty regresses to the mean damn quickly.
The old, good web, by contrast, was full of enduring surprises, as the world's weirdest and most delightful mutants filled the early web with every possible variation on every possible interest, expression, argument, and gag. Now, you can search the old, good web with Old'aVista, an Altavista lookalike that searches old pages from "personal websites that used to be hosted on services like Geocities, Angelfire, AOL, Xoom and so on," all ganked from the Internet Archive:
http://oldavista.com/
I miss the old, good internet and the way it let weirdos find each other and get seriously weird with one another. Think of steampunk, a subculture that wove together artists, makers, costumers, fiction writers, and tinkerers in endlessly creative ways. My old pal Roger Wood was the world's most improbable steampunk: he was a gay ex-navy gunner who grew up in a small town in the maritimes but moved to Toronto where he became the world's most accomplished steampunk clockmaker.
I was Roger's neighbour for a decade. He died last year, and I miss him all the time. I was in Toronto in December and saw a few of his last pieces being sold in galleries and I was just skewered on the knowledge that I'd never see him again, never visit his workshop:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/16/klockwerks/#craphound
A reader just sent this five-year-old mini documentary about Roger, shot in his wonderful workshop. Watching it made me happy and sad and then happy again:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eqMGomM8yF8
The old, good internet was so great. It was a place where every kind of passion could live. It was a real testament to the power of geeking out together, no matter how often the suits demand that we "stop talking to each other and start buying things":
https://catvalente.substack.com/p/stop-talking-to-each-other-and-start
The world is full of people with weird passions and I love them all, mostly. Learning about Don Bolles's collection of decades' worth of lost pet posters was a moment of pure joy (I just wish more of it was online):
https://ameliatait.substack.com/p/the-man-who-collects-lost-pet-posters
That's the future I was promised: one where every kind of freak can find every other kind of freak. Despite the nipple-deep botshit we wade through online, and the relentless cheapening of words like "innovation" and "future," there are still occasional gleams of the future I want to live in.
Like the researchers who spliced a photosynthesis gene into brewer's yeast (a fungus) and got it to photosynthesize, and to display enhanced fitness:
https://www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822(23)01744-X
As Doug Muir writes on Crooked Timber, this is pretty kooky! Fungi – the coolest of the kingdoms! – can't photosynthesize. The idea that you can just add the photosynthesis gene to a thing that can't photosynthesize and have it just kind of work is wild!
https://crookedtimber.org/2024/01/19/occasional-paper-purple-sun-yeast/
As Muir writes: "Animals have no evolutionary history of photosynthesis and aren’t designed for it, but the same is true for yeast. So… no reason this shouldn’t be possible. A photosynthesizing cat? Sure, why not."
Why not indeed?!
OK, that's this week's linkdump done and dusted. It only remains for me to share the news with you that the trolley problem has been finally and comprehensively solved, by [email protected], of the IWW IU 520 (railroad workers):
Slip the switch by flipping it while the trolley's front wheels have passed through, but before the back wheels do. This will cause a controlled derailment bringing the trolley to a safe halt.
https://kolektiva.social/@sidereal/111779015415697244
I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/20/melange/#i-have-heard-the-mermaids-singing
#pluralistic#pharma#big pharma#ozempic#wegovy#linkdump#linkdumps#roger wood#klockwerks#ello#enshittification#ubisoft#if buying isnt owning piracy isnt stealing#drm#games#the crew#apple#app store#malicious compliance#app tax#app store tax#search#the old good web#boeing#aviation#monopoly#jet blue spirit#competition#law#genetic engineering
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munson's mixtape
kickstart my heart
don't go (sharing your devotion)
restless
no more tears
before dawn
stars shine like eyes
mad sounds
too close
do they know?
show you
...right?
the "nothing else matters" 'verse
multi-chapters:
in my mind there's no sorrow (remastered)
synopsis: an unlikely friendship blooms into something more at the only record store in the town of hawkins, indiana — or the five times eddie munson made fun of your music taste and the one time he was grateful for it.
it's been seven hours and fifteen days
synopsis: in a world where an object lost by someone is always found by their soulmate, you have a box full of them, and you know they belong to your best friend. he doesn't, though. in fact, he doesn't even believe in soulmates. that box never stops growing, not even when you leave, not even five years later, when you meet again in a much different time in your lives.
point of view
synopsis: eddie munson is a mess, everybody knows it. rolling stone has declared it in bold letters, mtv delights on it. his bandmates don't see what the rest of the world sees, though, and neither does his manager, who is ready to drop him. his manager's daughter, however, might have what it takes to keep him afloat — if it wasn't for the fact that they can't stand each other.
#eddie munson masterlist#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fanfic
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Pouches - Who's to blame (Not entirely serious)
Now, we remember that the king of the super pouches is Cable, and for good reason... Since his intro in 1990 he has tended to be more than slightly... pouch intensive
This isn't even a spoof cover, it's an accurate representation of his costume at the time.
But did he START the trend?
I think not.
Leaving aside Batman from the 1966 series, who had hefty pouches in his belt...
Though still not remotely large enough for some of the stuff he randomly produced from it, even if it DOES fold up... sort of.
But I digress....
I did consider the Silver Age bat villain Cluemaster
But those are specifically "plastic-glass pellets" containing assorted chemical weapons, like explosives, gas, acids and the like, so not sure they count.
It's been suggested that one of the first in the modern era to develop this was Longshot in 1986, when he did indeed have pouches on his belt, because artist Art Adams thought he needed practically-sized pouches to carry things in.
But even then are there MANY pouches? His bandolier was to store his throwing knives for easy access, so weren't pouches per se.
So technically, the first X-Men character to really lay into the pouches side of things isn't Cable, not by a long shot... it's this guy, slightly later in 1986
So Doug Ramsey was leading the field of poucher-y in the X-Verse side of things.
Just look at that vest and belt, LOADED and lined with pouches, and we never even find out what's in them... Though I think it would include pens, pencils, notepaper, some money, spare keys to the Xavier school, first-aid kit, lock picks (because he's always wanted to carry lockpicks), string (Everyone should carry string), breath mints and other things a relatively sensible teenager would want to be sure he was carrying if he had the room in his outfit and wasn't given to cargo shorts!
And yet, there are other contenders, so let's work backwards...
Also from 1986, Batman (again) from "The Dark Knight Returns" where even his BELT looks to be on a course of serious steroids!
And in 1983 we got this stylish new costume retconned into the history of the Golden Age Tarantula in All-Star Squadron who, up until this point, wore a purple and yellow spandex outfit that was, oncufsingly, identical to the Golden Age Sandman's spandex costume outfit.
Notice that he has rings of pouches on both boots, where he keeps things like spare cash in case he needs to hire a taxi and probably some spare ammo for his wirepoon gun.
But I think I've found patient zero as, from 1981's New Teen Titans #3. we have the inventor and technologist par excellence, the man who would be known (Eventually) as Mikron O'Geneus, though he would, perhaps thankfully, becomes better known by his codename:
GIZMO!
Look, even his LOGO has pouches!
In fairness, given his speciality is creating techno-widgets and devices out of other technology, him carrying dozens of gadgets and components makes a lot of sense, to the extent that he even manages to carry MORE weapons than Robin's utility belt (Which is TARDIS like in and of itself)!
So I think we have a winner!
Gizmo started the modern pouch trend!
If anyone can find earlier/other contenders, then please feel free to add them!
#pouches all the way down#cable#nathan summers#batman 66#bruce wayne#cluemaster#arthur brown#longshot#cypher#doug ramsey#tarantula#john law#gizmo#mikron o'geneus#robin#dick grayson
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Ghost Headcannons
Has an extensive skin care routine. Outside of gear and weapons, skin care products are one of the few things he actually indulges in.
The routine relaxes him. Helps him get ready for bed and feel more refreshed in the morning, especially if he had a nightmare.
The products have helped with his scarring which is why he started having a skin care routine in the first place.
Refuses to admit to any of this though. If the team ever manages to touch his bare hand or something they always comment on how soft it is and ask him was lotion he uses. Each time they ask he tells them he uses something ridiculous like Dawn dish soap.
Resident bug catcher. If there is a spider in your room he will just grab it with his bare hands and throw it outside. Gaz and Soap are horrified.
Dogs and cats are naturally drawn to him. He pretends he doesn’t like it but when he’s alone he’ll talk to them in a baby voice and play with them.
Cannot cook at all but since he’s so good with a knife he can cut veggies as fast as a professional chef (he likes feeling useful).
Actually well versed in internet culture (all the sleepless nights spent online) but he likes to act like he’s a boomer to fuck with soap and gaz.
Remembers all the little details about a person - makes him a great gift giver.
Collects shiny things and cool objects / rocks like a crow. Stores them in a box. Sometimes randomly hands them to someone on the team without a word.
Definitely knows how to do some magic tricks. Never shows anyone though.
Enjoys being the big spoon but also likes being held. He is like an octopus when asleep though.
(Out of all the years I’ve been on tumblr I’ve only posted like 4 times so I apologize if the formatting or something is off)
#soapghost#ghost x soap#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost mw2#ghost mwii#ghost cod#cod mw2#mw2 2022#call of duty#headcanon
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