#badmirvcle

[badmirvcle]

DRAGONSLAYER [Chapter 1]

Word count: 2k 

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader / Y/N

Genre(s): Strangers to friends, Friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings:  Strong Language, Suggestive Language, Sexual Themes (The Usual)

 || MINORS DNI || 

Summary: A hot summer in Hawkins, an intimate art project and two people with way too much sexual chemistry walk into a bar. Mutual pining ensues.

It’s summer in Hawkins and everything is humming. The beating of wings outside the humid classroom’s window, the soft thrum of a bus engine outside, the Munson boy’s foot tapping rhythmically against the sticky floor tiles.

For the past 20 minutes you’d been stuck in a constant loop of tuning into Mrs Samson’s voice, trying your hardest to ascertain the details of your super important end of term art project, to subtly matching the steady rhythm coming from his ragged sneakers with your pencil against your cheek - rinse and repeat. 

“It’s really up to you kids how you wanna go about this - the work has to equate to 10 hours, whether you decide to take your projects home and do them there or if you’d prefer to use the studio space here. Either way, I want to see your best efforts. Go off, go wild, find inspiration and bring back 3 portraits of your partners, different art styles if you please - as long as they tell me a story. If you want to write a little something to accompany them, by all means - go crazy.”

Now you were listening.

Harrington is the first to raise his hand. A surprise, he’s usually as mentally present as you were during Samson’s class - always too busy whispering to a girl or fixing his hair to impossible heights in the reflection of the glass windows. 

“Sorry, did you just mention partners? So this is a uh, a group project or?-”

“So glad you asked, Steven. I was just getting to the fun part. Talk amongst yourselves, hunt down a muse. Everyone is present today, by some miracle - so there should be an even split, every person in the room should be able to find a buddy.”

 Her eyes openly flicker to the hyperactive metalhead’s ever-rattling desk for a moment.

 “Just save me a headache and figure it out by the end of the week? It’s Wednesday, so 3 days should be enough. Got it? Good. Best of luck to you all.” She keeps her tone lighthearted as a foot knocks against the rocker’s desk leg to silence it. 

“Apologies, Mrs S. I’m a slave to the rhythm y’see.” The throws a juvenile but charming grin her way for style points. 

The senior Master of Arts shakes her head and allows an amused sigh to slither from her nostrils before making her way to her desk again, picking up where she left off and continuing to drone on through the rest of the project’s bullet points. 

You’ve only got 2 classes with the guy, yet you had to admit it was nice to see a teacher almost play along for once - like you wanted to. Wasn’t his fault that his joy was loud. And infectious. 

You, on the other hand, were currently allowing the new information to settle into your brain and sink heavily to the bottom of your stomach with dread. 

You fucking hated working in pairs. 

It was awkward, you didn’t like to share your ideas in fear of judgement and generally, you preferred the lone wolf route to passing grades. Anyone who says differently is an absolute fucking sociopath.

The remainder of the hour flashed by you like this, stewing away in your misery - faced toward the window, brows furrowed with nothing behind your eyes as your stomach turned at the possibilities of who might approach you when the bell rang. Or even worse, who you’d have to approach. So deep in your distressed daydreams, you barely notice the shrill, drilling ring signalling you all to get up to either leave or briefly discuss who you’d be in your shared suffering with. 

Anxious eyes zipping back and forth along the rows of desks, you frantically attempt to locate the singular person you could call a friend in the room - Steve. Picturing the two of you losing your minds over the caricatures you’d create of one another had given you some hope for fun - which was immediately crushed as you watched Kelly Hawthorne basically magnetise to his side as you stood like an idiot, mid-stride. 

Great. Made sense, she’d been making googoo eyes at him for weeks now - despite his reluctance to acknowledge it. You shared a look of exasperation with him from across the room as he shrugged his shoulders in defeat, mouthing a brief ghost of an apology, putting on his best attempt at watery puppy eyes - earning an irritated scoff from you.

 Like fuck was he sorry, he’s probably gonna do a little dance about it when you meet up to go home later. Asshole. 

Deciding this was a problem for another day, you’re sleepwalking from one class to the next, not really focusing on anything in particular. 

3 hours later you’re at lunch. You’d blinked and suddenly you were seated at your usual spot, between Robin and Nance - picking the crust off of your already dry sandwich. 

“Sooo, Steve mentioned some art thing you guys gotta do for Samson’s class? What’re you doing this time - finger painting, paperclip sculptures, tasteful nudies in the woods?” 

Ignoring the subtle dig at your favourite subject, you decide to play along.

“Ha-ha, Rebel Buckley. We should be so lucky, it’s actually somehow more erotic than that.”

“Oh? Suddenly I’m actually kinda interested, please do go on sweet thing.” 

“I’ve gotta spend 10 hours staring at some schmuck’s mug, probably making a whole lot of sensual eye contact, maybe a cheeky hand finds its way onto my knee as the sun sets next to us and I notice some gold in their eyes. We lean in slowly, they brush some stray hair behind my ear and we-”

“-Uhuh, uhuh. That’s all sooo obscene or whatever, but for real - I already have Steve on my ass just begging me in the absolute most pathetic way you’ve ever seen... to teach him how to use a pencil.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Tempting. But I absolutely am not fucking with you, baby.”

By the time you’re done going over the semantics of the task at hand with Robin, her attention was fully enraptured by Nancy and Steve’s bickering over whether her blouse was cyan or teal. Not at all interesting, but Robin just liked to ramble, so you allowed her to indulge and focused back on your now- completely stale lunch.

Examining the ensemble around you, you're overwhelmed by a sea of faces and potential subjects for your masterpiece. Ah ,except, your options were in fact limited to your classmates. Flicking a piece of sandwich crust at Steve’s head, you’re panicked as you ask him the million dollar question of who was left - just how finite were your options now?

“Weeeelllll. I saw Hargrove manspreading alone when I was packing up my shit, Kelly said her friend Graham was still looking and then there’s uh - Manson?”

“-Munson.” You bite. 

“Right. Yeah, him. Sooo, looks like you’re with 'Graham-Cracker'. Mind the dust on his sweater, it's dandruff - not crumbs.” 

“You’re kidding.”

“’Fraid not. Well, I mean. Unless you wanna claim the freak and somehow manage fail an art class.”

Nothing against the guy, but Steve made a point. The chances of seeing Eddie Munson within the walls of the school was as likely as a bigfoot sighting. 

His brows crease together as he considers something for a moment before speaking up again. 

“Hey, Hargrove’s an asshole but at least he’s sorta pretty, righ-”

“-I’d rather chainsaw my own head off, thank you.”

“Gotcha.” He concedes while trying to picture the logistics of your threat, rolling his eyes and angling his body back toward the raised voices and erratic hand motions of the girls beside you. 

It’s your final class of the day and it’s History. With Eddie Munson and Billy Hargrove. What fine choices. Your eyes had been darting between the two boys for 15 long minutes now - undoubtedly, you’d be doing this for the remaining 45 without coming to a final decision. Yeah, sure. Billy was very pretty - all enviably long eyelashes and ocean eyes but he was also a filthy little letch and not one that you wanted in your bedroom for after-school study buddy time. 'Graham - Cracker' it was then you’d decided, begrudgingly. 

“M’sorry. You got a pen I can borrow? Mine sorta exploded in my pocket and I don’t have another, I mean why would I? Who needs pens right? Ha- uh well actually me, right now I guess, shit.”

Disinterested lids rise to meet manic chestnut, your mind not registering who it is in the moment - too distracted by the close proximity of such a pleasing shade of amber reflecting your own bewildered expression. 

“Manson-” You blurt out. Damn, Steve had gotten into your head.

“Close, but no cigar. Buuuut we do have the same haircut, kinda. So I’ll give you that one for free.” His soft smile is good-natured and a clear indicator for you to join in his banter. 

“Sorry, no - I do know your name. Hard not to. I was just -” Chancing a glance to gauge his attention.. “-On another planet. Samson’s project and all that it's just got me stressing out.” Letting the sigh speak for itself, knowing he’s in the same resentfully awkward position. 

“Ah. Yes, the dragon.” Rhythmically rapping his knuckles along your desk, finishing with a mimed symbol bash. “Who do you have the pleasure of gazing longingly at for 3 weeks? Lemme guess, you crawled on your hands and knees to beg for Hargrove’s hand? Must’ve been down there a while, m’sure there was a loooong line. Carpet burns on your knees, ha?” 

You manage to mumble out a bashful 'nobody' before he sweeps his head under your desk to unabashedly inspect your kneecaps and almost, the racy lace underwear you’d mistakenly taken from your sister’s washing pile that morning. Luckily, crossing your legs in a skirt had become a knee-jerk reaction, your modesty safe from the prying eyes of Eddie Munson - for the moment. 

Catching the way your legs hastily shifted across one another, he clocked the fact he’d almost gotten up close and personal with something sacred. 

His head re-emerges from below with a noticeably rosier tint to his cheeks and a shallow cough as a strangled ‘excuse me’ squeezed it's way out of his throat.

Huh. How pretty. 

You had no strong feelings leaning in either direction toward the metalhead. In the entirety of your time shared in the hallways, at most he’d garner a brief glance of recognition - gaze never travelling farther than his Hellfire shirt and pin cladded jacket. It wasn’t necessary, those threads and the accompanying level of racket that followed made him effortlessly recognisable. 

Trailing your eyes up past his shirt collar now, allowing yourself to properly survey him for the first time, you couldn’t say pencil-stache Hargrove was really all that in comparison. 

Eddie the freak had an oddly magnetic thing. It was hard to discern, but you found it painful to peel your stare away, suddenly busying yourself by rifling through your pencil case and detangling your thoughts from his surprisingly shiny curls. 

“You’re a lucky boy, Munson. You get to use my special pen.”

“Yeah? And what makes this one so precious?” You quirk an incredulous smile at him as he gargles out the last word, emulating some kind of gremlin, you figured. 

“This one slays dragons.”

Quiet pride blooms further in your chest as you pull a bark of a laugh from him.  

“Y’know, Y/N, it has been said that the pen is my sword.” 

It’s lost on you that he remembers your name.

“Oh yeah? How do you fare with a paint brush?” It’s out of your mouth and hanging in the air before your brain can even register it. 

“Dunno, wanna find out?” 

Fuck yes, you do. You’d been saved. Eddie the freak had saved your ass. No wandering hands from Hargrove, no vacuuming Graham’s dandruff from your bedroom carpet. 

“Deal.” You offer with a sincere beam and outstretched hand. 

Eddie moves to spit into his palm as you slap a hand over his lips and use the other to tap against his in a clumsy, uncoordinated fist-bump.

Glimpses of his curled lips are visible though the cracks in your fingers - it’s stupid and you’re easily charmed, but you think he’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen.

Class completely forgotten, Mr Jameson enters the room and slaps a textbook onto his desk with a crack, forcing all eyes to the front ready for the final lesson of the day to begin.  

Staring down at your fingertips, they're still warm with his breath and you could have sworn that he'd kissed them.

A/N: Chapters WILL be longer going forward, I had to manically get this written down before it slipped out of my head and out of my train window. ;)

Is 'manspreading' an 80's accurate term? NO. Did I leave it in there because it was goofy? YEA. Shh.

[fujiihime]

Joseph Quinn's Other Characters Fics (Series/One-Shots) - I

I made a list of currently reading and recommended fics for Joseph Quinn's other characters here on Tumblr. All were beautifully written by amazing writers. These writers are incredible and full of brilliant ideas, so please visit their blogs and check all of their works. Happy reading! Don’t forget to comment and reblog their works. You may also reblog this list to share with everyone/blog mutuals. Thank you! (For 18+, MDNI)

Prince Paul (Catherine the Great)

Pick Your Poison | 2 | 3 by @punk-in-docs

Keep Watch Over The Door Of My Lips 

And The Stars Sighed In Unison

Lay No Claim | 2 by @the-suburban-blues

It Has Always Been You by @dingusfreakhxrrington

With Me Now by @the-suburban-blues

Our Duty & Birth Of 1st Child by @emmywrites-blog

Deserve Love Series | 2 | 3 | 4 | ED by @boohoo-clo

Thank You by @m7nson

Out Of The Dark by @creme-bruhlee

My Darling by @helpwhatsthis

Childish by @badmirvcle​ 

Eye for An Eye by @rocknrollbabe14​

Ralph (TimeWasters)

At Last | 2 | 3 | 4 | ED by @luv4fandoms

It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To by @brighteyedbushybrowed

Please & Darling by @no-mercy-bby

Wizard by @creme-bruhlee

To Be Loved by @stevies-corner

A Special Present For A Special Boy by @littlelioncub43

Who's A Good Boy? | 2 @mypoisonedvine​

Baby Boy by @historygeekfics

Show Me

Untitled by @thefreak-thebanished

A Life Well Loved by @eddiemunsonthebanished 

Words Of Advice | 2 by @ladyfogg

My Sweet Boy by @forays-into-fiction​ 

A Rivalry For The Ages by @ladybug0095​ 

The Dance by @stinkysam​ 

Tell the World by @x-its-funnier-in-enochian-x​

Busy Streets And Busy Lives @thefreak-thebanished​

Kinktober: Day13 - Face Sitting by @xcatnapsx​

My Way Of Life by @ @sadboyeddie​

Tom Grant (Make Up)

You Got Me by @mypoisonedvine

WindSwept by @ladyfogg

Lemons Lollipops and Salt | 2(WIP) by @cherrielip

Adore You by @inklore

5 Minutes In Heaven

A Couple Hours by @luvsouya

Little Thief by @dingusfreakhxrrington

Thunder by @loves0phelia

Maybe It's A Good Thing? | 2 by @dingusfreakhxrrington

Prompts | 2 | 3 by @ladylannisterxo

Welcome Home by @mypoisonedvine

Untitled by @ginger-mews

New Girl | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 by @xcatnapsx

I'm Home by @bluesfortheredj

Cheer Up by @x-its-funnier-in-enochian-x

Untitled | Prompt by @joemazzmatazz

I'm Not Her by @munsonxmayhem

Smashed by @joekeeryswife​ 

Rebound | 2 | 3 by @munsonxmayhem​ 

Another Sad Love Song by @rocknrollbabe14​  

Kisses from Cupid by @hawkinsbanishedhero​

His Past And His Future by @munsonxmayhem​ 

New Angel by @fxckadoodledoomunson​ 

Mr. And Mrs. Grant by @munsonxmayhem​

Tom Grant Series by @wheels-of-despair​ ​

Leonard Bast (Howards End)

A Friend Of A Friend by @the-suburban-blues

All I'd Ever Need @the-suburban-blues

As Stubborn As A Mule by @writing-fanics

Arthur Havisham (Dickensian)

The Arrangement | 2 | 3 (x M!Reader) by @ladyfogg

One Of Those Nights (x M!Reader) by @alex-drinks-blood

Untitled (xPlatonicF!Reader) by @dingusfreakhxrrington

Letters (x M!Reader) by @axailslink

Million Dollar Man (x F!Reader) by @lvlycheri

Not All Who Wander Are Lost (x M!Reader) by @lvlycheri

It's Okay (xPlatonicF!Reader) by @x-its-funnier-in-enochian-x

Please Don't Go (x M!Reader)

Untitled (x M!Reader) by @alex-drinks-blood​ 

Maybe Someday (x M!Reader) by @casettewrecked​ 

Untitled (x M!Reader) by @razzledazzlestuff​ 

Can The Past Save The Future (x M!Reader) by @stardancerluv​

Koner (Game of Thrones)

Only You | 2 | 3 by @creme-bruhlee

Night Watch by @historygeekfics

A Not-So-Knight and His Spellcaster | 2(WIP) by @brighteyedbushybrowed

Winter Nights | 2 by @ercklln

A Winter's Tale by @lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer 

Dark Koner (Untitled) by @mypoisonedvine​

Note: I hope a lot more writers will write stories for these characters and I'm sure we're all excited to read more stories about it.

[badmirvcle]

Home (Drabble) [Cooties Prequel]

Word count: 1.9k 

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader / Y/N

Genre(s): Eddie's Alternate ending, Besties to lovers(?), Oneshot, Upside-down shenanigans

Warnings:  Strong Language (Reader has a foul mouth!), Suggestive Language || MINORS DNI || 

Summary: A silly little prequel drabble to 'Cooties' just to set up what came before and what comes after they light Vecna's ass up.

You’re a million miles away, overwhelmed by the vast expanse of field stretching as far as you could see - unable to feel the ground beneath your feet. Floating. 

“Never change, Henderson”

“Wasn’t planning on it”

“Good…gooood?”

Laughter.

Numbly making your way over to Eddie who now too stood alone, looking off into the same open wilderness - sharing with you; the same lost expression.

“Hey, what was that?” you bite it out, not meaning to come across so irritated.

“What was what?”

“You’re doing it again”

“Doing what?” it’s etched into his face that he already knows.

“You’re saying goodbye” 

His exhaustion doesn’t grant him the energy to attempt to hide his truth. 

With a dramatic shrug of his shoulders and a tilt of his head, he relents. Haunted eyes never leaving yours.

There’s a bubbling feeling in your throat, as if you were about to vomit.

“Stay, Eddie.”

Fuck. 

It’s visible, the gears turning in his head as a smirk curls at his lips. Some boyish Eddie-ism about to charm you into blindness. He’s stubborn, but you’re immovable when you want to be and you’re not about to let him slip through your fingers along with the one topic you’d both been watching out of the corner of your eyes, never daring to face. 

Flexing your fingers, you’re gripping the leather of his sleeve, tangling your fingers into the chains on his broken cuff. 

“You’re not worried about what happens after because you don’t plan on living to see it - and don’t try to bullshit me, don’t forget who you’re talking to here.”

A moment of tense silence as you assess his eyes. He’s listening, not just feigning a look of interest while thinking of his next counterpoint like he usually does.

“When all of this started, I said I was gettin’ the fuck out of dodge, you remember that right?” You begin, through gritted teeth.

Blank faced silence

“Right?” You reiterate

“Affirmative, Commander.”

“You said you’d follow me to the ends of the Earth. Pussying out of it I see? And here I thought you were a man of your word, Munson. Wayne would be so disappointed.”

Of course you didn’t mean that last part. You could never. 

He’s barking out a short-lived dry laugh as his face turns toward the grass, suddenly far too interested in the way it swayed in-tandem with the breeze along his battered sneakers. 

“You wound me. Didn’t you just christen me ‘Eddie the Brave’ and not ‘Eddie the Pussy’?” Hair flicking over his shoulder with the suddenness of his head snapping back up to face yours.

The smile is audible as you answer. “That, I did. Then you’ll understand my disappointment in you breaking your vows, sir.”

Gods, you loved him. It was surely in your eyes as they finally met his again. 

Although amusement was clearly present in the way you had set your matching grins, there was an underlying presence of dread. It settled into your bones and puppeteered the two of you into impossible closeness. Four arms met, shakily settling into a strained embrace as two sets of unsteady legs buckled and lowered until you’d settled into a heap amongst the weeds. You decide to just breathe together for a quiet moment, abandoning the playful personas. Neither of you needed words of affirmation to make it apparent that you’d settled on the same page. It was a curse, you sometimes feared. Two people shouldn’t know each other so well, it felt dangerous. What happens to one when they have to live without the other?

“This ends of the Earth thing-”

Eyes meet once more.

“I never thought you’d meant it literally.”

A soft knock as your foreheads meet, a deep sigh ghosts over his face and his eyelids lower as he breathes it in.

“I’m a ride or die kinda girl, Eds. You know that.”

It doesn’t feel like you need to say anything else for the moment. You just needed to feel him against you, warm and alive for the first time in days. Listening to the distant voices of your friends bickering, laughing and savouring their own little moments as your fingers lazily intertwine amongst the bladed greenery you rested on. 

“We leave together or not at all. You promised me.” Head resting against his shoulder, you nestle your face deeper into his neck to ground yourself. 

“With Vecna, the upside down, possessions, the portals to alternate dimensions…you don’t think we can escape Hawkins PD? Besides we have a super powered brainwasher on our side, we literally cannot lose here. Sheriff won’t know what hit him and by the time he’s trying to figure it out, El could have wiped everyone’s brains like that.” Snapping your fingers next to what you assumed was his face, still currently blinded by his unruly curls as you rambled softly more to yourself than him.

Truthfully, you didn’t exactly know how Eleven’s powers worked - having only met her a few times before she’d left, but you’d discussed the topic of memory wiping with Dustin once months ago and you’d both come to the conclusion that it shouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. It could just be your saving grace. 

Eddie’s gentle as he curls his hand beneath your jaw to slowly lift your damp cheek from his even damper clavicle - needing to get a better look at you. 

“Damn. You been scheming without me, Princess?” The lopsided smile he gives you is devastating, warm eyes roaming over your tense features. 

Eddie is your home, you decide. 

“I work better alone.” It’s bullshit, and you wait for him to correct you.

Silver-clad fingers unsticking your hair from your dewy cheeks with a practised, familiar ease. “Liar.” Ah, there it is. Home again. 

You’re both content to simply watch each other for the moment, fond smiles mirrored while two minds fight back words unsaid as he idly plays with your hair. It’s a childish and charming habit that warms your chest, momentarily hurling you back into your shared childhood. 

The odd tone was really beginning to make you uneasy now, the seriousness of your predicament settling into your bones. Your usual boisterous, comedic back and forth had remained lost in the few days since your reunion. It just hadn’t felt natural to start it up again yet. Baby steps, you suppose. You had your best friend back but having your best friend back could remain on the backburner for a little longer. 

“Sweetheart.”

The speed at which your head rotates almost causes it to swivel off. 

Softly, he chuckles. “You’re drifting again.”

“Not far.” You’re earnest but distracted. Eddie’s reluctance to engage in your optimism is wearing on you. He had already given up on having a life beyond tomorrow and you refused to forgive him for it.

“Fuck you, Eddie” It’s a thought that wasn’t meant to leave your lips, cursing your teeth for letting it slip through. He’s never one to take anything seriously, which was sometimes a blessing - the truth in your emotions only embarrassing you. 

A snort. “Yeah, you wish, Y/N. Besides, when would we have the time? Only thing I’m nailing today is that trash can lid.” A limp hand gestures haphazardly in the general direction of the growing pile of makeshift weapons by Lucas’ feet as he wisely removes Dustin from spear-crafting duty. 

“You should see the bat Steve used to swing around, should get our shit together and make 6 of those bad boys instead of using pointy sticks like cavemen.” you muse.

A hand is slapped to his chest as he throws himself back into the grass, eyes rolling back and a strangled noise tearing from his throat in mock injury. 

“...no offense, boss.” you mutter as if it will soften the blow.

“Too late, took all of it. Straight to the heart. Ruthless” he huffs, childishly.

Home reaches out and you take it’s hand as you join him in his horizontal leisure, searching for something indecipherable in the clouds. 

“Y’know, I’m gonna save your ass whether you like it or not.” You sound sure of this.

“Fuck, Y/N, love a woman in charge. It’s so hot when you’re demanding like that. How could you, there’s kids around.” Slapping his stomach is second nature, being serious with him was not. Your silence, an open invitation for him to continue on with something verging on the more sincere side. 

“Where would we go?” 

“Wherever we want. Will tells me California’s good, s’all he ever talks about when he calls - said Jonathan has his own personal pothead, maybe your tribe’s out there. Maybe I’ll get a witness protection relocation of my own once this is all over, you can be my plus one.”

“And Wayne’ll be my plus plus one, huh?” He's smiling, but you hope he's serious.

“Y’think he’d mind? I mean, I stopped by your trailer while we were all tryin’ to track you down and it’s seen better days, as hard as that is to believe.”

“I think he just wants to see me get the hell outta here.”

“I’ll do it. It’s wicked work but I’ll take on the heavy burden of your happiness, Munson.”

“Is that from some dead poet I should pretend to know to impress you?”

You flash him a tight-lipped, impatient smile.

“Come on. Say yes. Or I’ll make some stupid pact with you instead-”

“-Like?”

You suppress an irritated sigh. “Interruption, rude. Like ‘if you die, I die.” 

“Well shit. You drive a hard bargain huh, shortass?”

“Yeah sure, but a fair one. C’mon Ed’s, need to hear you say it. Wheeler’s got a pretty airtight plan. We stick to it, right? No bullshit or I’ll kill you”

“Christ. Yeah, sure - pinky promise. No bullshit” The sincerity in his eyes was genuine as you linked your fingers and swung your hands together in a little private ceremony between friends. 

You couldn’t be sure when you’d started crying, but you sure as hell weren’t now - a fresh wave of determination overtaking your mind. Eddie was imagining his future again and you believed him, that’s all that was needed for the moment, you’ll handle the rest. 

Eddie’s clumsily wiping your eyes with the corner of his sleeve, the pair of you in a world of your own as you jump at the sudden intrusion.

“You guys good over there? Anytime you feel like uh- I dunno, helping out, that’d be great. We’ve still got 3 warriors without murder sticks so CHOP CHOP, get off your asses!” 

And with that, the momentary peace was massacred. 

A synchronised “Coming, mom” was enough to satiate Harrington for the moment, giving the two tangled bodies the time they needed to plant their feet on the earth vertically again. 

“You really mean what you said? Not just saying it to uh, inspire me to fight my ass off tomorrow or whatever. This wasn’t just some motivational thing, right? This all works out, y’wanna leave…together? For real?” 

“As serious as a demobat bite. I don’t like lying to you Eds, gives me tummy ache.” 

Him swinging his heavy arm over your shoulder as a soft peck lands to the corner of your mouth is the only answer you need, brain already flying through the vast catalogue of movies you’d watched with the gang, desperate for some battle strategy inspiration. Putting Vecna to the flame was the only thing between you, Eddie and the beach - fuck the police. In comparison to the horrors of recent days, they weren’t even a notable inconvenience.

Slay the monster, learn to surf. 

Easy, right?

A/N: TW: not proof read oop- just a small establishing oneshot I speed wrote to give context and set up stuff for (maybe) later chapters?

[badmirvcle]

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦♡꒷︶꒦꒷♡꒦︶꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷

༒ 𝕽𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘: 𝓞𝓟𝓔𝓝

༒ +18 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙

༒ 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝖉𝖓𝖎

༒ 𝐀𝐬𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 & 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

༒ 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐡;

@/josephquinussy

[Catherine the Great 2019] || Prince Paul:

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦♡꒷︶꒦꒷♡꒦︶꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷

[Stranger Things] || Eddie Munson: