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ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 1 year ago

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'Ruined' domesticity - e.m. x gn!reader ft. Uncle Wayne (dad💗)

Summary: You and Eddie are both cuddling in bed after a long day full of all the usual bullshit and just as you reach your threshold consciousness, Uncle Wayne comes home from work and you 'ruin' the moment by launching out of bed to give him a hug. Uncle Wayne would later call it a 'flying tackle', but you won't care. All you ever want is the Munsons home together with you, and they're here. This is just another favourite part of your day, but it always happens right at the end... as Uncle Wayne comes home, you and Eddie come home to yourselves. Home is where the heart is.

A/N: Inspired by a conversation @thefreak0fhawkinshigh and I have had a few times. I couldn't get this little daydream out of my head. If you spot the LOTR reference, I'm giving you a forehead kissie.💗This is self-indulgent as all hell, I just wanna attack Uncle Wayne in a hug and call him dad and feel him hug me back. I just want to be loved by a parent since my own do not care.

TW; this is just fluff but in case it's triggering to anyone, there's swearing in the narrative, Eddie is a squeezer and I describe his hugs as being held by a boa constrictor (positive, affectionate, I adore snakes and Eddie), mentions of unspecified stresses in your lives, reader calls Uncle Wayne 'dad'; there is no familial connection but he's a definitive paternal figure to Y/N, mentions of reader's parents not taking good care of them so Uncle Wayne is very much their father figure and fulfils the role perfectly because of course he does!😭🥺

Gender neutral reader & no coded language.

People who wanted to be tagged: @ali-r3n @jslittlebirdie

Word count: 2, 080.

Finally, finally, you were exactly where you had wanted to be even before you had dragged yourself out of bed this morning.

Wrapped up in Eddie Munson's arms, and he in yours.

Limbs tangled together, heads sharing the same pillow, your arms around one another so tightly that you could feel his heart pounding against the safety of his ribcage and fluttering against your own. You could feel your own heart racing, too, your blood singing in your ears even as you laid there waiting for Morpheus to embrace you.

The 'you' was singular but it included you and Eddie, for nowhere would either of you go where the other couldn't follow.

Eddie hummed contentedly as you pushed your body into his, curling your arms tighter around his shoulders as you nuzzled the cool tip of your nose into the crook of his neck.

"Love you so much, Eddie," you mumbled, carelessly pressing kisses to whatever part of him was nearest, "don't know what I'd do without you."

Eddie had a feeling that you had more to say, so he squeezed you even tighter into him, until not even a sheet of paper could have been slid between your bodies, and awkwardly moved so that he could kiss the top of your head. "I love you too, sweetheart." No matter whether you were mid-intense discussion or half asleep, you and Eddie always said those few words back to each other. Even if such a 'rule' hadn't already been in the Munson Doctrine, you would have made it an addition; Eddie knowing how important he was to you was always a top priority. The thought of Eddie not knowing how loved he was made you feel genuinely sick.

"I just miss you all the time," you sighed, "even when you're right here." You squeezed Eddie and he playfully groaned, pretending to be in pain from the strength of your grip. "Want you around all the time. More I have, the more I want of you. Don't wanna let go."

"Whoa, hey," Eddie grinned a megawatt grin which left your heart aching, giddy was he to know just how loved he was by you, his eyes soft with all the love in the world because he never thought he'd ever have this with anyone, let alone with you, "you don't have to miss me, okay? I promise. I'm right here, sweetheart." He tightened his arms around you again until you felt, for a second, like you were being held by a boa constrictor (and you loved it when Eddie held you like that). It was a silent reciprocation of everything you had just shared, and a mutual need to have you as close to him as possible. In turn, you pressed kisses where you could reach. With you and Eddie, the more affection which was shared, the more the love grew. Your hearts were so big anyway but they were limitless and timeless when it came to each other.

You could never get enough of Eddie; your heart squeezed so much that it made your chest physically ache with the force of all the love you held for him. You both laid there, wrapped up in one another's embrace and not willing to let go for even a second. Little more was said as the both of you wound down for the night. Just holding each other, breathing and thinking and finally finding peace in one another's company after yet another crazy day full of too much to do and little time to do it in, mixed up with all the usual bullshit which life liked to throw at you like you weren't already busy enough.

You and Eddie were creeping closer and closer to your respective threshold consciousness, but just as you allowed yourself to properly settle down with the intention to sleep, you heard the roar of a van coming down through the trailer park, tyres crunching on gravel, and then the sound of a car door opening and closing. Boots bit down on gravel and then concrete, and you froze as you realised that the steps the feet were ascending were the ones outside the trailer. Which meant only one thing:

Uncle Wayne was home.

There was the familiar jangle of keys and before you even realised what was happening, your body was wriggling out of bed. Now that Uncle Wayne was home, there was no way you would relax enough to fall asleep without being able to say hello and give him a proper hug.

"Mm?" Eddie sleepily shuffled around, his hands patting around for you. "Wassit?" It would have been enough to make you get back into bed at any other time, but this was Uncle Wayne. You could cuddle Eddie any time you wanted, but Uncle Wayne was only around for limited hours every day and you always made a point to seize every opportunity for a hug that you could. He was more of a father to you than either of your parents had ever been, and he had only been too honoured the first time you had told him. He was used to you greeting him excitedly and always with some sense of urgency. You had been waiting for this moment all night and now he was here.

"Dad!" You hissed, shaking Eddie gently, "dad's home!" you were desperately dodging Eddie's grabby hands as you tried to untangle yourself from the hot bedsheets which you and Eddie had been sharing for several hours. Finally, you got yourself free, hopping awkwardly on one foot to make sure that you didn't trip over the sheets wrapped around your toes. You moved much faster than your sleep-heavy mind could comprehend as you were already in the hallway by the time your mind told you that your limbs were cold from being in bed for so long. "Dad's home dad's home dad's home!!!!" Your words quickly became nonsensical as your excitement heightened and you ran down the hall, just catching a blur of red and blue flannel closing the front door behind him, a hand deftly locking it, before you launched yourself at it. "Dad!!!"

Uncle Wayne was very used to being attacked when he came home from work. Anyone who knew him, though no one knew him better than you and Eddie, knew that he adored being attacked when he came home. It meant that he was home, that he was safe, that he was loved. Eddie had been throwing himself out of trees and vans and into his Uncle's arms for as long as he could remember, but now you did the same thing... it had been just over a year since you had begun to date Eddie and you were well and truly a Munson now. Honourary, at least. But still... a Munson.

And that meant that you were 'allowed' (encouraged) to indulge in the luxury of doing what Eddie liked to do every morning before school after setting up the trailer so that his dad could reheat dinner, shower and then collapse into the bed Eddie unfolded and set up for him - throw yourself at Uncle Wayne in a hug. But more than that, oh, more than that... you would be caught, held tightly, and feel yourself coming home just like Eddie did, when he did the same.

If anyone other than a Munson tried to do to Uncle Wayne what you and Eddie loved doing, then woe betide them. Being loved by a Munson as a Munson came with a different set of rules, a different way of expressing and sharing love. The only exception to that may well have been Dustin... everyone loved Dustin, and for good reason. He, too, could score an Uncle Wayne hug, but he would not have been allowed a moment of flight beforehand, unlike you and Eddie.

Uncle Wayne's arms were already open for you; he had heard you almost yell Eddie out of his threshold consciousness and then bound down the hallway, through the living room, and then -

home.

Uncle Wayne grunted, a gruff oof as you collided with him in that red and blue flannel you loved so well. He didn't stumble, he didn't falter. No, he merely adjusted his feet, caught you in his arms, and held on tight. "Well, it ain't a proper homecoming 'less someone throws themselves at me." Uncle Wayne's greeting was saturated with laughter, his ocean blues deeply creased at the edges and alight with tender affection. He squeezed you in his arms and you nuzzled in, smiling to yourself as your body took a natural deep breath of its own accord. "Hey there, darlin'," Uncle Wayne ducked his head down to press a kiss to the top of your head; it was all he could see of you. You moved your arms so that instead of being over the top of his flannel, you moved them down and then under his flannel, where it was warmer and closer to your dad. "Take it you missed me?"

"Even when you're here." You squeezed Uncle Wayne around the middle, letting yourself sink into the hug with the man who was more of a father to you than either of your parents had ever been combined. You didn't want to let go but you knew that you would have to eventually. "How was work?"

"Miss you too, darlin'. You and our Eddie." Uncle Wayne sighed between greeting you and answering your question; the exhaustion in his voice made your breath get stuck in your throat. "Oh, same old, y'know." You had the feeling that Uncle Wayne was going to elaborate a little, but before he did, there was a loud and overdramatic sigh from behind you. You gave Uncle Wayne one final big squeeze before you stepped away from him. You stayed close, though, and waited to see if your Eddie would join you in greeting his dad.

"Would you quit stealin' Y/N from me, man?" Eddie's words were harsh, but his tone was soaked with barely restrained laughter as he bounded across the trailer. He skidded to a stop in front of his dad, thought better of it and then jumped at Uncle Wayne, throwing his arms around his dad's shoulders as he pulled himself in.

Uncle Wayne chuckled. "I did no such thing! Y/N attacked me!" He held onto Eddie like if he let go, then Eddie would slip through his fingers like the sands of time. "I ain't gonna complain about that, you know I ain't." Just like with you, Uncle Wayne let himself both sink into his hug with Eddie as well as be the strong wall for Eddie to melt into. The hug between the Munson men went on for longer than the hug you had with Uncle Wayne, but that was okay - you could have a hug from him any time you wanted, all you had to do was ask. And sometimes, you didn't even have to ask; just one look at you, when you were in a certain mood, and Uncle Wayne knew that you needed to be sandwiched between him and his boy for an undetermined amount of time. Uncle Wayne tried to let go of Eddie, but the boy whined and Uncle Wayne smiled to himself and squeezed Eddie tighter. "Easy, son, that's it. You know I ain't lettin' go 'til you want me to. M'right here."

Eddie sniffled and mumbled something like, "never gonna want you to let me go, dad," and your heart melted into a puddle on the floor, right along Uncle Wayne's. You weren't supposed to hear it, only Eddie's dad was, so you let Eddie keep his secret. Finally, Eddie literally wriggled his way free and found his way back to you as Uncle Wayne turned to look around the trailer. He saw the pull out sofa ready for him with the duvet pulled back and the pillows fluffed up, he saw frying pans and dishes on the draining board next to the sink and suspected that dinner leftovers were waiting for him in the fridge (he was right), and that the shower would be ready for him as well with pyjamas and his usual products (it was). His kids had made sure that all he had to do was eat, shower and then sleep, and warmth bloomed in Uncle Wayne's chest like flowers in a garden.

An eternal spring day, deep inside, forever.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x gn!reader #wayne munson #the munsons #eddie and wayne munson #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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ajokeformur-ray · 10 months ago

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Fell asleep watching Labyrinth and I remember I woke up right at the start of the ballroom scene and forced myself to stay awake long enough to hear Jareth sing. I'm pretty sure he sung me back to sleep🥺🥺🥺even barely conscious, I know who I want🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️

@jslittlebirdie the things I'd say to Jareth with half a chance... 😭😭😭😭

It's 3am now so I gotta study but I'm keeping him close.

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rosesloveletters · 2 years ago

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Thank you all for 1,000 followers🩵 I’ve had this blog since 2020 and it’s gone through so many changes since then. Collectively, this blog is just a quiet space where I share the things I love and occasionally show little glimpses of the person behind the screen, but I won’t bore you with that too often.

I’m not doing anything special for 1k like everybody does because it was never a goal of mine to reach any certain number of followers and I don’t even know how I would celebrate something like this. I didn’t really want a blog when I started and I can’t say why I’m here, other than for the people I’ve met here because you all are amazing. Thanks for following me.

Tagging some incredible people who I love: @ajokeformur-ray @ghoulishbehaviour @into-crazy @melis-writes @thepurpleprince @tsukiakarinobara @fan-of-pretty-much-2-much @jslittlebirdie @jokerownsmysoul @hallotonia @fruitysalamander1398 @limonola @sunstar-of-the-north @thatpacinochick @lovelyledger @hoffmanspuppet

#thank you 🩵🌙#sorry if I forgot to tag anybody 🥺#my stuff

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likesofsue · 2 years ago

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- Masterlist -

Welcome to my masterlist! Here you can find all my written pieces. At the moment I will only write for Eddie Munson. English is not my native language, so I apologize for possible mistakes. Thank you for reading ♡

!PLEASE READ WARNINGS WITHIN!

@jslittlebirdie - my main blog (self shipping and writing for Heath Ledger's Joker)

@sues-photography - photography side blog

Drabbles

Eddie helps you braid your hair.

Eddie lets lets you cuddle him when you are tired.

Your Light At The End Of The Tunnel - Eddie has seen enough of how burned out you are and decides to take you to the trailer so he and Uncle Wayne can take care of you. - personalized piece but still Eddie x gn!reader

Eddie picks you up after a long and exhausting day at work. - personalized piece but still Eddie x gn!reader

The Sam to your Frodo - Eddie comforts you when you can no longer hide your pent-up feelings.

Headcanons

Eddie doesn't like to eat vegetables until he tries your cooked meals.

Eddie gets sunburned quickly and you put sunscreen on him.

Taglist

If anyone would like to be added to or removed from my taglist, feel free to send me an ask. I would be more than happy ♡

@these-written-reveries @alittlesmartcookie

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 x reader #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #masterlist #my writings

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into-crazy · 2 years ago

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This is a little something I put together for @jslittlebirdie 💖💖💖

Hii darling, I've noticed that you've been missing your f/os a lot lately. So I've put together a couple mood boards for you, which are under the cut. I hope that they can bring you at least a little happiness and help you feel closer to your f/os😌🥰

「Joker x Sue」 • ° ♡

J cares for you so much, and he is very proud of you. He knows that you work so hard, he believes in you and will always be there to support you in any way that he can. He'll do anything for you. This man will burn the entire world down for you if you'd asked him to. When ever you need him, he will be there. Had a rough day? Let him hold and comfort you for as long as you need. Stressed with uni work, or just life in general? Allow him to pull you away for a break. Want him for the purpose of just wanting him? Well say no more, J can never get enough of his little birdie. You are the ultimate love birds. He loves you, and he's not afraid to remind you. He's very proud to call you his wife. Sue Napier. He gets all giddy when he thinks about it. J and Sue? Yeah, that will always be a thing💜💚💜💚

「Eddie Munson x Sue」 • ° ♡

Eddie is extremely happy to have you in his life. He often wonders how he got so lucky, because you are the most perfect woman to him. He loves and cares for you deeply, and he will always be there when you. Always. Nothing can keep him away from you. Eddie would go above and beyond for you as he loves making you happy. He enjoys laughing together at a bunch of silly things, and he likes being a little nerd with you. Eddie and Sue. It has the perfect ring to it🖤❤🖤❤

(Now I do apologize, as I don't really know about Eddie's character so I had to do a bit of research🤭 But I hope you still like it🥺)

#I love and miss you so much Sue💕#J and Sue #Eddie and Sue

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these-written-reveries · 1 year ago

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@jslittlebirdie this is us 🤭💓 don't know what I'd do without my silly friend.

#we stay clownin' 🤡#me and my sukie #okay but genuinely I'd be a wreck without you especially rn #thanks for making my days brighter ily 🥰

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thepurpleprince · 1 year ago

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I just wanted to tell you that I'm wishing you all the best for your appointment tomorrow🫂💜 You know, there's no right or wrong way. It's your first time you're doing something like this. You need some time to get used to it and to adjust to this new situation. Please try not to be too hard on yourself. I know, easier said than done. But even if you do mess some things up, honestly I wouldn't call it messing up, there's still enough time for you to figure things out and to talk to your new psychiatrist. They should try to help you and work together with you. It's a process. One step at a time, even one minute at a time. Everything will be okay🥺 Remember, you're beautiful inside and out. You deserve love, support and compassion. As for you probably having a hard time falling asleep. Maybe try to lay down and put on some gentle music. You could also try the 4-7-8 breathing technique to try and reduce your anxiety. Breathing in for 4 seconds, holding your breath for 7 seconds and then exhaling for 8 seconds. Another suggestion, maybe thinking of J could be calming too. Because he loves you and he will always protect you from the world💜 Well, I'm not sure if my words are helpful at all and I probably babbled too much. But I wanted to send you a little message. You got this, Nia. I'm proud of you and I'm sending you all of my love. I'm thinking of you🥺🫂💜

Thank you so much, Sue!! 😭🫂💙💜💙💜💙 Thank you for comforting me and for all the kind words. This really helped me get through it. The appointment went well and I got some medication for anxiety and depression. I was very nervous answering doctors questions but when she praised and thanked me for seeking a professional help after years and years of hesitation it made me feel a bit better. She seems like a kind doctor.

And thank you so much for the advice to do some breathing exercises! I did that and watched some asmr before bed. I've managed to get enough sleep 🥰

Thank you for the encouraging words 🥺 you're such a beautiful person yourself. I'm sending all the love and support your way 💙💜🫂

#answered ask #jslittlebirdie #lovely clowns #personal

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in4ctivee3 · 1 year ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY NIA🥳🎉🎂🎁

I wish you a very wonderful day today. You're such a lovely, talented, amazing and kind soul. You deserve the entire world and so much more💜 Let J celebrate and cuddle you, he loves and adores you so so much. But you have to be careful or else he'll eat the whole cake by himself, hehe🤭 Here's to many more years full of happiness. I'm thinking of you and sending you lots of hugs🥰🫂🫂🫂💖

Heyyy Sueee!! 🥺😭👋🏻💜💙💜💙 How've you been?? Thank you so much for the birthday message!! You're so thoughtful and amazing. This really means so much to me. Thank you thank youuu 💜💙💜💙🫂 I hope you're well! Sending you lots of hugs back!! 🫂💕

#jslittlebirdie #answered ask

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these-written-reveries · 7 months ago

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Wahhhhhh thank you so much, Sukie! 😭💖 It really means the world to me that you read this despite not being part of the fandom and you barely know most of the characters mentioned in this fic 🥺 I really love hearing that it made you giggle like this 🤭 Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. You're too dang sweet to me, you know that? I appreciate you so so much. You're the best, Sukie. I love you 🫂💜💖

*PS: This is how I imagine Kat's reaction after walking in on the boys in that one scene 🤭

(Also, ahem...your tag for me is so cute 🥺💓)

Shouto’s Sizzling Night of Rebellion

‣ Pairing: None (some minor unserious hints at various ships if you squint), *EraserMic* (extended content at the end -optional read)

‣ Summary: Shouto Todoroki has had enough of his father interfering with his life. Tonight is his night, and nobody, especially Endeavor, is going to stand in the way of him having a good time.

‣ Genre: crack/comedy

‣ Warnings: alcohol/marijuana use, Shouto using his hot side to cook bacon.

‣ Word Count: 7,008 (8,048 -including extra EraserMic content at the end)

‣ A/N: This is genuinely the most chaotic and ridiculous thing I’ve ever written. I was inspired by this video by MorphyVA. Between listening to this video and writing this fic, I found myself laughing harder than I have in a very long time. Hopefully it can at least make you laugh half as much as I did while making it. Now buckle up and get ready for a slow burn into full-blown chaos and absurdity!

─────────────── ･｡ﾟ🔥: *.🥓 .* :🔥˚.･ ────────────────

"Shouto! Your shorts are too short!”

"Shouto! Answer my calls!"

"Shouto! Don’t go to parties!”

"Shouto! Stop ignoring me!"

The grating voice of his father rang in Shouto’s mind. After all these years of Endeavor being so distant and treating him as anything but a son, he suddenly decided to compete for the “father of the year” award. He certainly wouldn’t win; Shouto knew that for a fact. All his attempts up to this point had been pathetic and useless, especially considering he had hardly built an honest relationship with Shouto to begin with.

What pieces were there left to patch up, anyway?

Ever since Endeavor decided to be more of a present figure in Shouto’s life, his daily existence had truly become the definition of “hell”. He couldn’t seem to escape him. Even if he managed to run away and hide somewhere else, he’d be plagued by near-constant calls and texts from his father. He couldn’t even escape his father’s voice, that seemed to have something to say about everything he did.

In many ways, Shouto much preferred life before Endeavor suddenly grew a conscience. At least he had become comfortable with the distant and abusive nature of his father before his recent change of character. It was much more predictable, and this made things a lot easier for Shouto to handle, especially in moments when he was forced to be around him. He was used to it. But this? This was a whole new level of torture. And Shouto’s sanity was steadily slipping by the day. He needed a break from his father’s constant badgering and pitiful attempts at “bonding” with him. He needed to let loose and reclaim the autonomy that his father was trying so hard to strip away from him under the guise of “fatherhood.” He’d had enough.

Tonight would be the night that Shouto truly broke free from his father’s chains…

Loud music and the sounds of people talking and singing filled the common room of the Class 1-A dorms, bodies buzzing past Shouto as he stood as a quiet observer in the middle of the room. He was wearing his shortest pair of black gym shorts and a white t-shirt that he had cut into a crop top, showing off his toned midriff. In his right hand was a red plastic cup filled with a mysterious liquid. Mina had offered it to him not long after he walked into the room. She said it was punch, but Shouto was pretty sure it was spiked with alcohol, based on the bitter aftertaste. He had no problem with this. In fact, it made him smirk a little while he drank it. His father would never approve of this, and that only made him want to do it even more.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed as he pulled it out and saw the text from Endeavor.

“Don’t forget our family dinner tomorrow at 5pm.”

Shouto growled in frustration, typing out a sarcastic response in return.

“How could I forget? You won’t seem to let me, no matter how hard I try!”

His phone continued to vibrate as messages from his father came through, one of them telling him to come to the dinner “dressed with dignity," clearly referencing the shorts Endeavor saw him wearing the other day. The same ones he was wearing now, just to spite him. Shouto barely scanned the rest of the messages before rolling his eyes and powering off his phone, which continued to vibrate until the screen finally went black. He shoved his phone back into his pocket, now feeling even more irritated than he was before.

He downed the rest of his drink and headed towards the punch bowl to refill his cup, stopping in his tracks along the way when he heard his name being shouted over the music. Turning his head towards the direction of the familiar voices, he spotted Izuku, Uraraka, Mina, Tokoyami, and Tsuyu smiling and waving at him. He offered them a small smile and joined their circle.

“Todoroki! How are you liking the party so far?” Izuku asked.

“It’s good. Are parties usually this loud?” Shouto answered, trying to speak up over the music.

“I think so!” Uraraka said.

Tsuyu held a small cup of punch in her hands as her eyes scanned the room. “Where’s Iida?”

"We sent him away. Convinced him he should visit his brother for the weekend." Mina confessed on behalf of the rest of the group.

Izuku scratched the back of his neck, a guilty smile on his face. "Yeah, I kinda feel bad about it…"

Uraraka placed a reassuring hand on Izuku’s shoulder. "It's for the best, Deku. You know he couldn't handle something like this.”

Mina nodded in agreement, bringing her cup to her lips and taking a sip before she spoke. “He’d definitely get us all busted.”

"I guess you're right. I thought I wouldn't like parties, but this one is fun!" Izuku smiled.

Tokoyami looked around at everyone else having fun at the party as he spoke. "Mm. I agree."

"Me too!" Uraraka chimed in.

"The punch is good."

The others chuckled at Shouto’s random comment, agreeing with him as they drank from their own cups. Shouto looked down at the empty one in his hands.

"You want a refill on that, buddy?"

Shouto looked up to find Denki by his side, smiling at him with a half-full pitcher of punch in his left hand and a stack of empty cups in the other.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Kaminari."

Denki bowed dramatically after filling Shouto’s cup with more punch. "My pleasure! As the host of this party, it's the least I could do!"

"What?! Who put Dunce-Face in charge?!"

Unlike everyone else, it wasn’t hard to hear whatever the explosive blond had to say. His booming voice easily surpassed the volume of the music. Denki turned around to face Bakugou, who was glaring at him intimidatingly. Kirishima moved to stand beside him, nudging him with his elbow.

"Be nice, Bakugou! He's done a great job so far!" Kirishima said, attempting to tame the wild beast that threatened to be unleashed upon Denki and the rest of the innocent partygoers in the room.

Denki flashed a proud smile at the two of them.

"Thanks, man! And before you ask, Bakugou, I took care of the surveillance problem before the party even started! Called in a favor from an old friend. He managed to loop the live camera feed seamlessly! It'll last until morning! I also talked to the other dorms, and they said they’d keep quiet about it, so long as we return the favor for them in the future!"

Bakugou scowled. "If that's the case, then you extras better make sure everything is cleaned up before then! I don't wanna deal with the consequences of your stupid actions!"

"Nothing's going to happen, don't worry! Come on, Bakugou! Have some fun!"

Denki held out a cup of punch towards Bakugou, who was quick to push his hand away. Denki stumbled a little as he tried not to spill the liquid onto the floor.

"No! I'm going to bed! Last thing I’m gonna do is be an idiot with a hangover during tomorrow's training.” Bakugou muttered before turning his focus to Kirishima. He pointed a threatening finger at him as he spoke. “You better go easy on the drinking, Shitty Hair! You're going to train tomorrow, whether you like it or not!"

"Alright, alright!" Kirishima put his hands up in defense, one of them holding a full cup of punch.

Denki rolled his eyes as Bakugou took a step past him. "Fine! Go to bed, gramps! It's clearly way past your bedtime, anyway!"

Bakugou’s jaw clenched as he turned back towards Denki. "You better watch your mouth or I'll put you to sleep right now, Dunce Face!"

"Ooh, I'm scared!" Denki smirked, half laughing as he spoke.

Watching Bakugou fall into Denki’s trap caused Kirishima to let out an amused sigh and step in between the two of them. "Alright, both of you settle down! Katsuki, you can go to bed now. We'll be fine down here."

Begrudgingly pulling his crimson daggers away from Denki to glance at Kirishima, Bakugou rolled his eyes with a huff and turned to walk away. He made it a few steps away from the crowd when Shouto spoke.

"Goodnight, bestie."

Everyone tried to hold in their laughs, Denki snorting and Kirishima covering his mouth to suppress his own laughter as Bakugou visibly tensed and clenched his fists, his speed increasing as he stomped towards the elevator in the back of the room.

“Man, he is such a party pooper!” Mina spoke once he was out of sight, an amused smile on her face as she shook her head. Everyone else tried to recover from their laughing fits.

“I know! It’s like he’s allergic to fun!” Denki said, still chuckling a bit.

A party pooper? Shouto had never heard this saying before, but it reminded him of his father. His dad was not fun, by any means, and he always found a way to ruin anything Shouto considered to be a good time. But tonight was different. So far, he was having a decent time, but not yet a good time. He needed to do more fun things that his father wouldn't approve of. After once again pushing away his father's nagging voice in his head, Shouto set out to do the next thing his father wouldn't approve of...dancing.

He took a large gulp of his drink and turned to face the other end of the room, walking towards where everyone else seemed to be dancing to the music.

“Todoroki! Where are you going?” Izuku called out to him.

Shouto looked over his shoulder. “Dance.”

“Ooh! I’ll join you! Come on, Uraraka!” Mina chimed in excitedly.

“Okay! Deku, let’s go!” Uraraka grabbed Izuku’s hand and pulled him towards an empty space on the dance floor.

“B-But! I’m not really good at dancing!” Izuku said, his face blushing a deep red.

Shouto stood in the middle of the dance floor, looking around at everyone curiously. He’d never danced before, and he’d never really paid any close attention to how others danced before either. He saw Tokoyami leaned up against the wall across from him, bobbing his head to the beat of the music, so he started with that.

“Do you need help? With dancing, I mean.”

Shouto nodded at Momo. “I don’t know how.”

She giggled. “I could tell. Let’s start with something simple, then! See how Kirishima is moving his shoulders? Start with that!”

Shouto observed Kirishima and tried his hardest to replicate this move. He was a little out of time with the beat of the music, but he began to get better after a couple of minutes.

“You got it! Great job!” Momo clapped and danced alongside him.

A small smile tugged at his lips. This was more fun than he thought it’d be. It felt…good. And very scandalous. His father would never approve of this. He took another big sip of his drink while continuing to dance.

･｡ﾟ🔥: *.🥓 .* :🔥˚.･

After a while of dancing his heart out, Shouto had learned a couple more moves from Kirishima and Denki. Aoyama had attempted to show him some moves too, but they were too advanced and flashy for him. By now, Shouto was feeling really good, and it wasn’t just because of the dancing. He had nearly finished his third cup of punch when Kirishima stepped in, noticing him stumbling around on the dance floor a little too much.

“Hey, man! I think that’s enough dancing for now, don’t you think?”

Kirishima slung his arm over Shouto’s shoulders to steady him. Shouto glanced up at him, still bobbing in time with the music.

“I’m having fun.”

“Well, I think we should have fun together over here! We can dance more later!” Kirishima pointed towards the lounge area.

“Okay.” Shouto tilted his head back as he gulped down the rest of his drink, leaning his weight against Kirishima slightly as he did so.

“I think we should also take a break from drinking. What do ya say, buddy?” Kirishima suggested, eyeing his friend with slight concern in his eyes.

It was strange for Kirishima, seeing Shouto drunk and acting differently than usual. He wasn’t sure what to think of it. He tried to take the cup from Shouto’s hand, only for him to pull it away from his grasp.

“No! I like it!” Shouto argued, his voice raising slightly above his usual neutral tone.

Kirishima raised a brow at this, a small, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He held his hand up in playful surrender.

“Alright, man! No worries! I’ll refill your cup for you! Let’s just get you situated over here, okay? Then we can hang and have fun together!”

Shouto nodded and allowed Kirishima to guide him to the lounge area nearby. The moment Shouto spotted a bean bag someone had placed in the room, he insisted that he sat in it, grumbling something about how his father never let him have a bean bag growing up and he’d never approve of him sitting in one. Kirishima didn’t question him and helped him sit in the bean bag, before leaving to fill Shouto’s empty cup with water, almost positive he’d be too drunk to notice.

He was right. After 2 more cups of plain water, Shouto decided he’d had enough. By this point, Sero had joined the two of them in the lounge area, and Shouto had started a drunken rant about his father. Kirishima and Sero listened intently as they took small puffs of the joint Sero had brought along with him to the party.

"I can't even wear my favorite shorts without my dad getting onto me about it! Ughh! I hate him!" Shouto let out a frustrated sigh, his fists clenching at the thought of his father.

Sero took a puff of the joint pinched between his forefinger and thumb, his face scrunched up in opposition to what he was hearing.

"Well, that's stupid. You look good in your shorts! They, uh…accentuate your features nicely, if you don't mind me saying."

Shouto could feel his internal temperature growing warmer, and he wasn’t sure if it was simply because he was angry or if there was something else to it. Too drunk to think any harder about it, he shook his head.

"I don't mind. That's also why I like to wear them. I feel confident in them. And they're good for playing volleyball."

Sero passed the joint to Kirishima, who took another hit of it. "Then you should keep wearing them! Fuck what your dad has to say about it!"

Kirishima let out a large puff of smoke before speaking.

"Yeah! He's right! It's your life and you can live it however you want!"

Shouto smiled at the two of them. "Thanks, guys. I feel very heard and supported right now. You're the best."

"Good! We got your back, man! Whatever you wanna do, we support you!" Kirishima smiled, giving him a thumbs up from his reclined position on the couch.

"I want to get high,” Shouto confessed.

Sero chuckled and leaned forward on the couch, the joint held in his outstretched hand towards Shouto. "Hell yeah, my dude! You clearly need it more than either of us."

Shouto took the joint from Sero and listened closely as he explained to him how to take a proper hit of it. Shouto nodded in understanding, staring at it between his pale fingers.

"My dad would never approve of this.”

"Are you really gonna let that stop you?" Sero challenged, a smirk growing on his face as Shouto shook his head and spoke his next words.

"Fuck no.”

He took a small drag of the joint, coughing a few times, but quickly recovering from it. Kirishima and Sero proudly clapped and cheered on their friend. Shouto took one more hit before passing it back to Sero.

“There you go! How ya feelin’?” Sero asked.

Shouto sat awkwardly in the bean bag chair, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think. “I feel the same.”

Kirishima chuckled. “Just give it a minute, buddy. You’ll feel it.”

･｡ﾟ🔥: *.🥓 .* :🔥˚.･

By the time an hour had passed, Shouto was sprawled out in his bean bag chair, neck tilted back as he stared at the party lights dancing along the ceiling. Denki joined the group shortly after Shouto got caught up in this mesmerizing trance and helped Sero and Kirishima finish off the joint. It wasn’t long after this that the party ended and everyone else had retired to their rooms for the night, leaving the four of them alone in the common room. The three boys on the couch were chatting and giggling about things Shouto couldn’t make out. He was completely lost in his own little world. That was, until they started talking about food. This seemed to reach Shouto’s ears and his stomach, which responded with a loud growl.

"Dude, you know what sounds so good right now?" Kirishima said, looking over at Denki and Sero to his right.

"What?" Sero responded curiously.

"Bacon!"

Denki gasped. "OH MY GOD, YES!"

"Do we have any?" Sero asked.

"I think I saw some in the fridge the other day. But the stoves are still broken. Maintenance hasn't fixed them yet,” Kirishima explained with a sigh.

"We could microwave it?" Denki suggested.

Sero scrunched his nose in disgust. "I'll pass on that, thanks."

Kirishima pouted. "Man, I really want bacon…"

"I can cook it," Shouto announced, sitting up in the bean bag too fast and causing his head to spin a little.

Denki jumped at the sound of Shouto’s voice, whipping his head around to look at him. "Woah, dude. How long have you been there?"

Sero rolled his eyes, unfazed. "He's been there the whole time. You're just an unobservant blob."

"I am not an unobservant blob!"

“Guys, shut it! Todoroki, that's nice and all, but like we were saying before, the stoves are still broken, remember?" Kirishima said.

Shouto shook his head. "I don't need that."

"Huh?" A look of confusion spread over Kirishima’s face.

Denki seemed to be the first one to catch on. "Ohhh, you mean you'll use your hot side to cook it?!"

Shouto gave a nod of confirmation. The three boys looked at him curiously as he started to ramble, smirking at the uncharacteristic nature of Shouto’s current behavior, which only appeared more animated now that he was drunk and high.

"I haven't done it in a while, though. My stupid dad won't let me. He's always like ‘SHOUTO! DON'T COOK BACON ON YOUR HOT SIDE! USE A FRYING PAN!’” He lowered his voice and put on his best angry face to fit the impression of his father, slurring over his words and causing the boys to giggle.

“Last time I was caught, I was grounded for a week for ‘behaving dishonorably’. I just don’t get it. What’s so wrong about using what we have been blessed with?”

“A-freakin’-men! Dude, that's so cool! We gotta do it!" Denki said excitedly.

Kirishima looked between everyone, a slight look of hesitation in his eyes that was quickly overtaken by his own curiosity. "Fine. But we gotta be quiet! If we get busted while using a flammable quirk inside the dorms, we'll be in deep shit."

“Chill out, man! It’ll be fine! I’ll check to see if there is any bacon left.” Sero stood from where he was once seated and walked over to the kitchen on the far end of the room behind them.

A couple minutes later, Sero called the three of them over, waving the pack of bacon in the air excitedly. Denki quickly jumped to his feet, followed by Kirishima. Shouto struggled to get out of the bean bag chair. Denki and Kirishima each grabbed one of his arms and hoisted him up, helping him to remain on his feet as he stumbled towards the kitchen. Upon seeing how unsteady Shouto was, they collectively decided it would be best if he wasn’t standing during this experience.

“Kaminari, help me move this stuff off the island. Sero, hold onto Todoroki while we do this,” Kirishima said, letting go of Shouto to grab the plates, cups, and food trays that sat on the island and move them out of the way.

Denki followed suit, grabbing a few leftover cups of punch and turning around to make his way towards the nearby sink. But as he spun around and took a step forward, he found himself nearly colliding into Kirishima, who was headed his way with a large bowl of punch in his arms. Denki’s eyes went wide as the punch splashed back onto Kirishima’s chest before the glass bowl went crashing to the floor, shattering to pieces. The four boys stood there in shock, staring at the floor with mouths hung open.

Sero was the first to break the silence. “So much for being quiet, huh? Do you think anyone heard?”

Denki took a breath to steady his racing heart before speaking. “I don’t know…I mean, it wasn’t that loud, right? Nobody is gonna hear that from their rooms.”

“I don’t know, man. Leave it to Katsuki to hear that shit all the way from the fourth floor. He’s such a light sleeper,” Kirishima remarked. He looked down at his punch-soaked shirt, sighing at the sight.

“Nah, I doubt it. Also, I’m so sorry, dude. I’ll buy you a new shirt sometime to make up for it!” Denki said, looking at Kirishima with guilt in his eyes. Unlike him, he had only a few drops of punch on his clothes from the incident. Kirishima’s white shirt would certainly not recover from the red dye in the punch that had now soaked through the fabric.

Kirishima waved him off. “It’s fine, man. Accidents happen! I didn’t care that much for this shirt, anyway.” He smiled reassuringly at Denki before removing his shirt. “Well, we should probably clean this up now, huh?”

“Sure…But maybe after a little snack? I’m starving!” Denki whined.

The sound of a stomach growling caused the boys’ heads to turn towards Shouto.

Denki chuckled. “Seems like I’m not the only one.”

“Alright. Help me get him up here,” Sero said as he helped Shouto over to the island.

The boys came over to his side, glass crunching beneath their shoes. Together, they managed to get Shouto up onto the island, giggling as they did so. Sero took off his shirt and placed it under Shouto’s head as a pillow. Turning to grab the pack of bacon, he found Denki trying to open it with a chef knife, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he did so. Sero shrugged before looking back at Shouto.

"Dude, take your shirt off. We need to maximize the cooking area."

Shouto complied, and with great struggle, managed to remove his shirt. He tossed it onto the punch-covered floor and flopped back down onto the countertop.

"Uh, is this table flammable?" Denki asked, handing Sero the now opened pack of bacon.

"No, doofus! It's granite! Wait…which is his hot side again?" Kirishima tilted his head as he stared at Shouto.

“Red hair side.” Denki pointed.

“Ohhh, right!”

Sero ignored the other two and decided to strike up a conversation with Shouto as he began placing some of the raw slices on his left arm.

"So, your dad really disapproves of this? What a shame. I think it’s cool you can do this!"

"I know! He won't let me do anything fun! He sucks! I wish I was adopted…" Shouto pouted angrily.

"Man, I feel you. My parents are strict too. They would kill me if they found out I got high on the regular."

"Dude, they totally know,” Kirishima butted into the conversation, an amused smirk on his face.

"What? No they don't!" Sero argued.

Denki laughed. "Yes, they do! You reek of weed all the time! No amount of cologne and incense will cover that up!"

Sero scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever! They haven't said anything, so maybe they haven't noticed."

Denki leaned in towards Kirishima to pretend to whisper to him, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Or maybe they just think he naturally smells like a skunk's ass."

Kirishima burst into laughter, along with Denki and even Shouto, who giggled where he laid on the cold countertop.

"Quiet down! Help me finish this up, will you?” Sero tossed the pack of bacon at Kirishima, who nearly dropped it before pulling out a few slices and handing them to Denki.

Their excitement grew along with their giggles as they finished covering most of Shouto’s left side with bacon. All laughter and joy soon came to a halt, though, when a familiar voice sounded through the room, sending chills down all their spines.

"What the hell are you-...The fuck?"

Each one of them froze in place as they whipped their heads towards the owner of the voice, who stood about 5 feet away from them with the most stunned and perplexed look they’d ever seen on him.

"Katsuki, it's not what it looks like!" Kirishima blurted.

"What the fuck do you mean?! I think it's exactly what it looks like!"

"And what's that?" Sero asked with an amused smirk tugging at his lips, not quite convinced Bakugou really knew what they were doing at all, based purely on the look on his face.

This question seemed to throw Bakugou off even more than he already was. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally attempted to give an answer.

"You're…You're…"

Bakugou took a closer look at the scene before him. All four boys were shirtless. Shouto sprawled out on the kitchen island, raw bacon strips laid across half of his chest and left arm. A large knife in Denki’s hand. The floor covered in red liquid, shattered glass, and the boys’ shirts.

It looked like a goddamn crime scene. What kind of crime? He had no idea. For a rare moment in his life, he was rendered completely speechless. It took him another solid minute to muster up the ability to speak again.

"I...What the fuck are you doing to Icy-Hot?! And why are you all shirtless?!"

"He spilt punch on me." Kirishima pointed to Denki like a child tattling on their sibling.

Sero shrugged. "I was hot."

"I didn't wanna feel left out,” Denki confessed, looking away feeling slightly embarrassed.

Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, trying to ground himself amongst the group of intoxicated idiots.

"You still haven't told me what exactly you're doing to Icy-Hot…" He spoke in an exasperated voice through gritted teeth.

Denki answered his question simply. "We're just cooking bacon on his hot side! No biggie!"

"Yeah, don't worry, bestie. I'm fine…" Shouto lifted his head up slightly to lock eyes with Bakugou, who seemed quite the opposite of relieved upon hearing his words.

Bakugou growled angrily, any semblance of control over his temper now out the window. "How many times do I have to tell you to STOP calling me that?! And you! Stop waving that knife around! Give it to me!"

He stepped towards Denki and snatched the knife out of his hand, setting it on the counter opposite of the Island Shouto was lying on.

Kirishima held his finger up to his lips. "Shhhh! You're gonna wake everyone up within a mile radius and get us all in trouble!"

Bakugou scoffed. "Not me! I had nothing to do with this!"

"You're a witness! And you just touched the knife that was used for this act, which also makes you an accomplice," Sero said, pointing at the knife.

"What?! That's not how-"

"Yeah, what he said! You're just as guilty as us! So you better keep that big mouth shut!" Denki said, immediately regretting the words that came out of his mouth when he saw a vision of his own death flash through Bakugou’s eyes.

"Tell me what to do one more time and I'll-”

Shouto groaned, interrupting Bakugou with his next words. "Guys, stop fighting! Bakugou, you sound just like my dad. You're better than him. Stop this.” A couple of bacon strips fell off of him as he sat up to address Bakugou with a serious look in his eyes.

"Yeah, come on, man! Let us do this! You don't have to do anything! Just go to bed and pretend you never saw this!" Kirishima said.

Bakugou looked at Kirishima like he’d gone insane. "No! You guys obviously can't be trusted alone right now! You'll burn the dorms down or something!"

Shouto pointed a finger at him with a frown on his face. "Hey! Don't poop at our party!"

"What?" Bakugou stared at Shouto, completely dumbfounded.

"Uh…I think he means ‘don't be a party pooper’. Pretty sure he just learned that earlier today," Kirishima explained.

"My dad is a party pooper! He poops on everything! He's a life pooper! Don't be like him, bestie!" Shouto implored. Bakugou simply blinked at him, once again rendered speechless by the ridiculousness he had been subjected to thus far.

"Yeah! Come on! Live a little, Bakugou! Don't you wanna see Todoroki cook this bacon on his hot side?" Denki asked, pointing to the bacon on Shouto’s chest.

"No! Because I'm not a freak like the rest of you!" Bakugou barked.

Denki nodded casually, placing a hand on Shouto and slowly pushing him back down onto the countertop as he kept eye contact with Bakugou. "Sure, sure. Well, it's happening whether you like it or not. Todoroki, now!"

Shouto tensed at these sudden orders, but obeyed nonetheless, a strained look on his face as he quickly activated his quirk. The surrounding boys jumped back as large flames extended towards them.

"Dude! Tone it down! It's too much!" Kirishima said, raising his voice slightly.

The flames went out as Shouto deactivated his quirk. He let out a sigh.

"Sorry...It's harder to control right now, for some reason…"

"Hmph, I wonder why." Bakugou rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “This is exactly why you idiots shouldn’t be doing this!”

The boys ignored Bakugou as Sero inspected the bacon on Shouto’s body. "Thankfully, most of the pieces are okay. Let's try again."

"Whenever you're ready, Todoroki!" Denki gave him a thumbs up and Shouto gave him one in return.

Shouto closed his eyes and focused on his quirk. Everyone waited in silent anticipation for a solid minute, until finally, the sizzling began.

Denki gasped. "Oh my god! He's doing it!"

Sero smiled widely at the sight. "Yes! You got this, dude! Keep it steady, now..."

"Fucking hell, this feels like a goddamn fever dream…” Bakugou muttered to himself as he stared at the scene before him.

"You can leave, Katsuki. We promise we won't burn the place down. I'll keep an eye on things,” Kirishima reassured him, but his attempt seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Pfft! As if I can even trust you right now! I'll keep an eye on things."

While it was true that Bakugou was sticking around to keep an eye on them and make sure they didn’t do anything too stupid, he would be lying if he claimed curiosity hadn’t gotten the best of him too. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat fascinated by the way the bacon was cooking on Shouto’s skin.

After another minute or so, the bacon was finally cooked. Denki, Sero, and Kirishima immediately took a piece of their own to try. Shouto smiled as he grabbed a piece from his chest and ate it, his stomach finally happy now that it was being fed.

“Here you go!” Kirishima offered Bakugou a piece, only to have him flinch away from it in disgust.

“I’m not eating that shit! It’s unsanitary!”

Kirishima shrugged with a smile, an amused chuckle escaping his lips. “Whatever. More for us!”

Denki, Sero, Kirishima, and Shouto touched their pieces of bacon together like some sort of “cheers” to what they had accomplished together before eating them. Denki, Sero, and Kirishima’s faces morphed into an expression of pure rapture as they eagerly consumed their treat.

“Dude! This is the best bacon I’ve ever had!” Kirishima exclaimed, talking with his mouth full as he chomped down on another piece.

Denki nodded aggressively. “Me too!”

“It must be something about the way his quirk cooks it that makes it taste better!” Sero said, eyes shining with pure joy and amazement.

Bakugou scoffed. "Yeah, right! It’s just regular bacon. Nothing about the way it was cooked is going to change the flavor that much! You drunk and high bastards would think dirt tastes good right now!"

Bakugou instantly regretted bringing this up as he watched a lightbulb go off in all of their heads before they turned to one another with serious looks on their faces, talking in slightly hushed voices with mouths full of bacon.

"Should we try it?" Denki asked, a daring smirk tugging at his lips as he casually swiped another piece of bacon off of Shouto’s chest without looking and took a bite from it. Shouto laid on the counter in happy silence as he crunched on his own.

Kirishima looked between Sero and Denki with hesitation in his eyes. "I don't know, guys…"

"Come on! Aren’t we doing the whole ‘yes, and’ thing tonight? I've always been curious to try it!" Denki pouted.

"Why haven't you?” Sero asked.

"I was scared."

Sero and Kirishima’s chewing stopped as a look of bewilderment spread across their faces. They both responded in unison. "Scared?"

"There might be bugs in it!" Denki said, voice raising above a hushed tone.

Bakugou growled. "Oh my god, shut up! You're not gonna eat dirt!"

The boys once again turned their heads toward Bakugou. Kirishima put his hand up.

"For the record, I wasn't going to do it."

"Coward,” Denki muttered, shooting him a glare.

Kirishima gasped, snapping his head to Denki with his mouth slightly agape.

"I wanna eat dirt!" Shouto yelled, trying to sit up on the kitchen island.

Sero jumped into action, placing a hand onto Shouto’s shoulder to stop him. "Wait, hold on! One more round! Please?"

“No! You idiots a-”

Bakugou’s protests were interrupted and ignored as the other boys focused their attention on Shouto once more.

"Yeah, please? I wanna see it again!" Denki pleaded, giving Shouto his best puppy dog eyes.

Shouto sighed. "Okay…"

He flopped back down onto the island and the boys immediately got back to work, placing more raw bacon strips on the left side of his body while Shouto giggled about how cold it felt against his hot skin. Bakugou cringed uncomfortably at the sight, yet he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. He had never been so painfully aware of how sober he was than he did in this moment.

Sero stepped back with his hands in the air as if he was stepping away from a delicate masterpiece he had just finished creating. “Okay! Ready!”

They all went silent again to allow Shouto to concentrate as they watched him closely. Since Shouto was warmed up from before, it didn’t take as long for the sizzling to begin. Denki, Sero, and Kirishima looked as excited as kids on Christmas morning as they watched the bacon cook before their very eyes. Bakugou, while not nearly as excited as them, was still watching with some level of intrigue as he stood there with his arms crossed. All of them were so focused on this that they didn’t even notice someone had walked through the front door.

The sizzling stopped.

“Wait, don’t stop! The bacon’s not done yet!” Denki said.

“Did you get tired?” Sero asked.

Shouto shook his head, eyes furrowed in confusion as he tried to activate his quirk again, to no avail.

“Uh…guys?” Kirishima’s voice was quiet and unsteady. Sero, Denki, and Bakugou followed his gaze until their eyes landed on what exactly had him so shaken.

The chill down their spines that they felt when Bakugou entered the room was no match against the one they felt when they saw their homeroom teacher staring at them, menacing eyes glowing red and hair floating around him as he stared at Shouto. Even though he wasn’t looking directly at the rest of them, they could feel him viewing them in his peripherals, and that was enough to make their stomachs drop to the floor.

Aizawa stopped his quirk, tearing his eyes away from Shouto in order to take in the full scene before him. His face remained relatively neutral, as usual, but his eyes flashed with various emotions, most predominantly confusion, as he scanned the room and the people in it. He looked entirely confounded, rendered completely speechless. Bakugou knew the feeling…

None of the boys dared to speak a word, and instead simply stared back at him, frozen like deer in headlights. After a minute or so—which felt like a millennium to the poor boys facing the scrutinous gaze of their teacher—Aizawa finally spoke.

“What exactly am I looking at here?”

Everyone began talking at once, including Shouto, who rambled on nonsense about his dad in the middle of the other boys trying desperately to explain themselves. Bakugou shook his head and ran a frustrated hand over his face.

“Silence!” Aizawa ordered. The room immediately went quiet. Aizawa moved his attention to the only other fully clothed person in the room, standing the furthest away from the scene.

“Bakugou. What happened?”

Bakugou glanced at the boys, who looked away in defeat, as they knew they were beyond screwed at this point. He sighed and begrudgingly told Aizawa the truth of everything that happened that night.

Aizawa stared at Bakugou as he processed this information, before looking between all of them with disappointment written on his face.

“You know the rules. And yet, you’ve broken multiple in just one night alone. What kind of heroes do you stand to become if you can’t follow simple rules?” he scolded. The boys averted their eyes in shame. Aizawa’s icy gaze did not let up as he continued speaking.

“We’ll discuss your consequences tomorrow with the rest of the class. For now, you need to go to your rooms.”

“But, uh…Mr. Aizawa? What about the mess?” Kirishima asked nervously.

Aizawa glanced around the room once more and let out an exasperated sigh. “Tomorrow.”

Sero helped Shouto stand up from the table, bacon falling off his chest and shoulder and dropping to the floor as he steadied him. Bakugou, Kirishima, and Denki shuffled out of the common room towards the elevator as Aizawa placed a hand on Sero’s shoulder.

“I got him. Go to your room.”

Sero nodded and quickly scurried out of Aizawa’s sight.

Aizawa scrunched up his nose slightly in disgust as he reached out and peeled a stray piece of bacon off of Shouto’s chest and tossed it to the floor with the rest of them. Shouto slowly looked up at Aizawa and smiled.

“Are you okay?” Aizawa asked, a look of concern on his face as he watched Shouto wobble unsteadily where he stood.

Shouto nodded. “I had fun today.”

Trying to hold back the tiny smirk that tugged at his lips, Aizawa asked him another question. “Can you walk on your own?”

Shouto paused, deep in thought for a moment. “The floor is moving.”

Aizawa sighed, taking that as an obvious “no”, and bent down slightly to put Shouto’s arm around his neck. After an arduous journey to the elevator and onto the correct floor, he managed to get Shouto to his room. He almost left him there in front of his room, but after walking a few feet away and not hearing the door opening and closing, he turned to find Shouto staring at the door and tugging at the handle, like he had forgotten how to open it.

It was at this moment that Aizawa really wondered how he had gotten to this point. Since when did being a teacher turn into a full-time babysitting job? After helping Shouto into his room, he got him a glass of water before trying to get him to go to bed. To which, Shouto was having none of it.

“No! I’m not tired! I can do what I want!”

Aizawa knew Shouto was going through some kind of rebellious phase the moment he walked into homeroom last week without his uniform tie on, nor his uniform ironed. Shouto was always put together perfectly every day, so while not very concerning to those who didn’t know him, to Aizawa and the rest of his students, it was pretty alarming. That day, Aizawa casually watched in his peripherals as Bakugou accused him of stealing his style. Shouto merely responded with a scoff and a roll of his eyes before opening his notebook and scribbling drawings inside of it. Aizawa later managed to get a peek at those drawings when Shouto wasn’t looking. They were all scribbles and doodles about his dad.

Aizawa immediately recognized this as a cry for help. But what was he to do? He was just his teacher, after all. Even so, that didn’t mean his paternal instincts didn’t wish to help the poor kid however he could.

After bribing Shouto with a bedtime story if he got into bed and closed his eyes, he finally managed to get him to cooperate. Shouto yawned as Aizawa started to tell the story. Before he could even finish saying “once upon a time,” Shouto was fast asleep, soft snores passing through his open mouth.

Aizawa stood quietly, trying not to stir Shouto awake as he carefully made his way towards the door. He froze after only a couple of steps at the sound of Shouto’s voice, mumbling something in his sleep.

“Fuck you, dad…”

─────────────── ･｡ﾟ🔥: *.🥓 .* :🔥˚.･ ────────────────

*Later That Night...*

Aizawa stepped through the front door of his home with bleary eyes and hunched shoulders, dropping his keys on the table by the door and taking his shoes off. The sound of his husband’s voice echoed through the house as he was sliding his feet into his slippers.

“Honey, is that you?”

“Yes, I’m home,” Aizawa muttered tiredly as he walked towards the bedroom. There he found Hizashi in bed, wearing his pajamas and his hair in a messy bun, his back leaned against the headboard and a book rested on his lap. He looked up at Aizawa above the reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“Damn, you look rough. What kind of mess did those kids get into this time? Was it really a party like the mysterious snitch said?” Hizashi asked, eyebrows raised and a slightly amused smirk on his face. Behind all of this was a soft look of concern in his eyes as he took in the sight of his exhausted partner.

Aizawa had been working all day, grading papers and filing paperwork, when he suddenly got a late night call from an unknown number, informing him of some sort of disturbance happening at the dorm of Class 1-A. Aizawa knew for a fact who it was, despite the caller trying to mask their voice. It was Monoma from Class 1-B. How he got Aizawa’s personal number, he had no idea. But that seemed to be the least of his worries at the time.

After checking the camera footage for the dorm, he found that everything seemed to be just fine. But something in his gut told him to check up on things anyway, so he followed his instincts and left to do just that.

Part of Aizawa wishes he’d never stepped foot in that dorm at all. He was dreading the paperwork he’d inevitably have to fill out for this incident.

“So? What happened?” Hizashi asked again as he set his book aside and placed his hand over Aizawa’s, softly tracing his fingers.

Aizawa looked around, confused at how he was now sitting in bed when he was just standing moments ago. He sighed. He was so tired that he was starting to black out. He felt just like Shouto, except he was simply drunk from exhaustion alone. On top of that, he was still trying to process what he had witnessed earlier. Never in his life had he seen anything like what he’d walked in on earlier. Somehow, he was left feeling embarrassed for having interrupted whatever it was that they were doing. He still had so many questions and so few answers.

“Cooking bacon on his hot side…” Aizawa mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment as he stared off at the wall ahead of him.

“Say what now?”

Aizawa turned his head to Hizashi. “They were using Todoroki’s quirk to cook bacon on his hot side.”

Hizashi stared blankly at Aizawa for long enough that Aizawa jumped when he suddenly burst into a fit of laughter.

“What in the world are you talking about? You mean the hot and cold kid?” Hizashi asked after his laughter had settled a bit.

Aizawa nodded, sending Hizashi into a further fit of laughter. The perplexed look on Aizawa’s face was only egging his laughter on even more.

“Tell me everything. PLEASE!”

Aizawa sighed and told him the whole story, including the details of what Bakugou explained to him. By the end of it, Hizashi was on the floor, clutching his stomach as laughter echoed throughout the room. Aizawa couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, and as things began to finally settle within him, he began to join Hizashi in his laughter, until suddenly he too was on the floor, laughing uncontrollably beside him.

“What…” Hizashi began laughing again as he tried to sit up against the side of the bed beside Aizawa. “What are you gonna do with them?”

Aizawa chuckled. “I have no fucking clue. I have to figure something out before tomorrow morning, though.”

Hizashi’s smile turned mischievous as he looked at Aizawa, wiggling his eyebrows. “I have some ideas…”

“No.”

“Come on! You know I can give them the punishment of a lifetime! They’ll never even think about breaking the rules ever again!”

Aizawa paused in thought for a moment. “Maybe.”

“YES!” Hizashi pumped his fist in the air.

If Aizawa wasn’t so exhausted, he’d roll his eyes. “I said ‘maybe’. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Hizashi smiled, letting out a wistful sigh as he leaned his head against Aizawa’s shoulder. “Remember when we were their age? The parties, the fun? Getting caught and being punished by our superiors? Good times…”

“I wouldn’t say the punishments were ‘good’, by any means. I only ever got in trouble because of you. I didn’t even wish to attend most of those parties,” Aizawa muttered, yawning as he rested his head against Hizashi’s.

“Still…looking back, I miss it all. It’s kind of sweet seeing these kids doing the same stupid things we did.”

Aizawa scoffed. “We certainly were not doing whatever I walked into tonight.”

“Maybe nothing that weird, but our class definitely did some strange shit too. Remember that time with-“

“Don’t remind me.”

Hizashi chuckled. “Ah! So, you do remember then, huh? I thought you said you forgot because you were so drunk. Liarrr…” He ended his sentence in a drawn out, singsong voice.

“Oh, I remember. Too clearly,” Aizawa grumbled.

Hizashi laughed and continued to ramble on until he eventually heard the sound of his husband’s soft snores, paired with the weight of his head growing heavier atop his. He glanced up at him, a fond smile tugging at his lips. With little struggle, he managed to get Aizawa into bed without waking him completely. Hizashi was used to having to drag or carry Aizawa to bed most nights; it almost felt like routine at this point.

He couldn’t help but smile at his sleeping form. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to his forehead before turning off the lights and snuggling up beside him. The last thing he did was giggle quietly to himself before whispering into his ear.

“Sleep well, honey. You’re gonna need it.”

─────────────── ･｡ﾟ🔥: *.🥓 .* :🔥˚.･ ────────────────

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ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 2 years ago

Text

Weather the storm // e.m x gn!reader ft. Uncle Wayne

Summary: You need some help to help yourself but Eddie needs help to help you because he's never seen you like this before. Luckily, Uncle Wayne has a wealth of life experiences which he uses to aid Eddie, who can then help you. Eddie just wants you safe, healthy and happy.

Tw; comfort, fluff, I've written so many fics like this already but oh well have another one because we all need a hug from our Uncle Wayne, reader has trouble communicating and uses the weather system to describe their mood, reader stops eating and sleeping as much (poor self-care due to low mood; vicious cycle which they're aware of but lack the want to change it), reader cries, Eddie & Uncle Wayne worry, Uncle Wayne is a hand-holding sweetheart, Eddie and Uncle Wayne refer to each other FREQUENTLY as son & dad respectively because that's the canonical truth and I won't listen to anything else, I only refer to him as Uncle Wayne because calling him 'Wayne' with no precursor feels rude as all hell. Not sure why!

Dedicated to @stevesmunsons, who is going through something incredibly difficult but is still doing her best and kicking ass. Eddie would tell you that it's okay to feel, it's okay to cry, you're still the most metal ever in his eyes, he loves you and he'll always be there, 'kay? 'Kay. I love you lots, Sarah, and I'm sending you lots of love and hugs!💖💖💖 I also dedicate this wholeheartedly to you for always being so sweet and giving with the Eddie edits!!!! You have no idea how light and happy your creations make me feel and how tightly I grip my phone just to feel him closer.🥺Thank you, thank you, thank you.💖I hope you enjoy, Sarah!🌸

Fic specific tags: @neewtmas @maladaptive-day-dreams @sadbitchfangirl @tayhar811 @captainonaboat @chloe-6123 @desicroft02 @anotherdayinchuckletown @skyline4446 @cherrycolas-things @relocatedheads @madaboutmunson2 @rebelcthulhu @fluffysteampunkd @babyloutattoo89 @indiefawna @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @tinfoilhat86

Eddie tags: @eddiebunson @hersweetrevenge @sweetpeapod @sabbathsworld @hawkinsroyaloutcast @seidenbros @bakerstreethound @eddiemunsonshoney @potatos-library @gemstone-roses @hellfire1986baby @jslittlebirdie @comfortcharactercraze @heydreamchild @mywinterivy @corrodedcoffeen @m00nlight101 @3ddi3-daydreamer @pleasantlycrazyworld @samlealea @indouloureux @basicallybats @niceboyeds @manyfandomsfanvergent @becca-alexa @singularattitudeofasafetypin @knifeskiss @loving-and-dreaming @hiscrimsonangel

Word count: 3, 877.

To begin with, your mental and physical self-care had only slipped a tiny bit. It was barely enough for anyone other than you to notice. You slept an hour less than usual, you snacked a bit less, you gave yourself less time in the shower and watched television for half an hour less every night or watched everything other than what you actually wanted to watch. All that 'saved' time was used to work a bit more, a bit harder, to love yourself a bit less.

To begin with, only you noticed.

Until you didn't. Until you lost sight of yourself.

You stopped noticing the darkening bags under your eyes, the way you occasionally stumbled from exhaustion through the trailer door late at night, the way you stopped smiling when your favourite song came on the radio in Eddie's van or the way the sight of Uncle Wayne at the end of a long hard day (the start of his day spelled the end of yours; you were ships in the night) made you grin so hard you teared up, now caused you to just stare at him with glassy eyes and a barely perceptible smile. You stopped noticing that it had become easier for you to skip a meal than it was for you to actually sit down and eat something.

But Eddie didn't.

Eddie noticed everything, from the very first day you started to display signs that you weren't okay. He saw it all, kept mental notes on behaviours which cropped up which concerned him, and almost nightly relayed them back to Uncle Wayne when they were alone - what is spoken in the Munson trailer stays in the Munson trailer. It's in the Munson Doctrine and so it is a rule never broken, on pain of receiving a cold shoulder for a day or two.

The Munsons had icy shoulders when wronged.

Uncle Wayne had told Eddie to keep an eye on you, to let you come to him in your own time, and Eddie had done that. But then days had turned to weeks, weeks to a month, and Eddie couldn't take it anymore.

He had to step in.

In all honesty, if he hadn't stepped in when he did, Uncle Wayne's advice that night would have been just that:

Clearly, you needed help to help yourself.

You needed Eddie.

Eddie would deny you nothing during the best of times, but during the worst of times? He'd give you all he had and then some.

"Hey, do you think you can swing it with your boss to come home early tonight? Clouds are real dark overhead and I don't know what to do." Eddie turned and looked over his shoulder, to see what had been constant for the last half an hour; you, with a blanket thrown over your lap, staring through the television as you passively watched the images of your favourite film flicker across the screen. There was nothing on your face besides vague recognition. It sent chills down Eddie's spine to realise that even your most beloved film wasn't connecting with you and lowered his voice, "something's wrong, man."

It was the way Eddie stopped speaking in metaphors which grabbed Uncle Wayne's attention, as well as the fact that Eddie was usually the quiet supporter of the graveyard shifts and long, long hours. He was the one to cook three lots of dinner so Uncle Wayne could eat when he got home, he was the one who set the shower up so all that needed to be done was for it to be turned on, he was the one who got the pull out bed ready so all his beloved dad had to do was reheat dinner, eat, shower, then sleep.

Eddie never asked for Uncle Wayne to come home early unless it was real dark overhead. A code for 'family emergency' and one long established: ever since the Munsons had realised that you didn't always have it in you to ask for help, but you were happy to use the weather in place of a mood. No forecast had been given this morning and no forecast had been given this afternoon, either, even though it was obvious that the sun wasn't coming out for you, but this evening, Eddie had had enough of not being able to see what the weather was even when he was sat right next to you, and so he called in the one weatherman who always knew what to do.

All his life, Eddie had never once been in a situation which his dad hadn't been able to resolve or make better somehow, and this was no exception. He was sure of it.

In the end, Uncle Wayne faked a family emergency (it was more an elaboration of the truth, really, because you not feeling okay was an emergency) so that he could get out of work, on account of having no sick time available until the next quarter. He had been working at the plant long enough now that if he wanted to leave early, little about it was said and few eyebrows were raised at the daring. It was known that Wayne Munson would make up the time at a later date; his boy was probably in trouble again.

Uncle Wayne got home as quickly as he could. No traffic laws were broken, a decision made through a clenching jaw and fingers which white-knuckled the steering wheel. If he had his way, he would fly home. Hell, he would never have gone to work at all if he really wanted to get his way, but the world hadn't ever been kind to him and Uncle Wayne had sworn to himself over a decade ago that he would shield his boy from it as best as he could. Full of anger, he always chose kindness where he could, and he was nice where he couldn't be kind. It wasn't easy, but he wanted to be better than the people who had taught him how to hate. He wanted to do right by his boy. Even when his boy wasn't around to watch.

That had to count for something, right?

Uncle Wayne thought it did, and to hell with anyone else who didn't.

He had Eddie and they didn't, so who was the real winner in this situation?

On that high thought, which made Uncle Wayne's heart ache in his chest, he was home, and in no time at all did he push open the front door to the trailer with a world weary sigh. The world couldn't touch him or his boy when they were home together. It was their sanctuary from a world which sought to devour anyone born into it, turn them into just another nameless, faceless cog in the machine. A number on a spreadsheet. A statistic. But here, in this trailer? Why, it was a place of love and acceptance, tough love when required, pride always, understanding and tenderness and no judgement. Ever. For anything.

Home is where the heart is and that's why the trailer was the trailer when one or both Munsons weren't in it, but home when they were together under the same metal roof.

"Hey, kiddos!" He kept his voice level; it came out sounding gruffer than it was intended, but you and Eddie both heard the relief in his voice to be home, and the slight strain of tension in his voice when his tender blues fell upon you. He wasn't even fully in the door and already you were one of his priorities. Eddie had taken a few steps closer, like a moth to a flame when it came to his dad, but you had stayed exactly where you were, gazing absently at the television. Your usual excited greeting, the way you bounced up like a puppy when a Munson came home, was nowhere to be heard or seen and it caused similar looks of worry to cross the Munsons' faces.

"Oh, thank fuck! Dad!" Eddie was a blur of black and denim as he launched himself at Uncle Wayne, who only chuckled fondly and brought Eddie into his chest easily. It was a part of his come-home routine to catch his boy, literally; Eddie had always been fond of throwing himself out of trees, off benches, at his dad to say hello... "Thanks for coming home early," Eddie whispered, his voice a bit louder than a whisper was supposed to be, but you were still mindlessly watching television and paying little attention to your surroundings.

That was two strikes in both Eddie and Uncle Wayne's books; barely watching your favourite film, and you hadn't hugged the elder Munson within a millisecond of Eddie letting him go.

"'Course," Uncle Wayne smiled and ruffled Eddie's curls, his hand almost swallowing the crown of his son's head, fingers hot and grip firm. Eddie's ultimate comfort was his dad's touch, physical or otherwise. His dad's cooking, words, music, hugs, hell, even all the times he still crawled into his dad's bed after a nightmare (the most recent of those times was just last week), his music, all reached Eddie deep within, further than even your own touch sometimes. "I'd never tell my boy no." Not for something like this, especially.

Eddie playfully winced. "Ehh, once or twice."

Uncle Wayne nodded his head in agreement, crow's feet deepening as he smiled. He loved the banter just as much as Eddie did, found it invigorating to know that Eddie was now able to give as good as he got. He had never quite managed it as a kid or even as a teenager, but now at twenty, he could run circles around Uncle Wayne when he wanted to. And he did. Often. "Gotta keep ya' on your toes, son."

Eddie inched in for another hug from his dad, squeezing, and took the opportunity to say, "this is really bad, man. I don't know how to help." He let go and Uncle Wayne rolled his shoulders, kicked off his boots, and cast his blues over you again. Not in greeting, this time, but in searching. Figuring you out.

Uncle Wayne stepped away from the front door and toed off his boots, nudging them into line against the sideboard with his socked feet, shed his coat and hung that up. He was left in that flannel you loved so much and wore often, a dark blue shirt underneath, and some jeans which had seen better days and had obviously undergone several repairs.

"You all right there, Y/N?"

You gave Uncle Wayne a tight smile. "Yeah, m'fine. How was work?"

Eddie visibly winced for real. Rule number one with his dad: never brush him off or tell him you're okay if you're not. He had had to drill that into Eddie's head from day one and it had taken Eddie years to trust Uncle Wayne enough to be fully honest with him. Every sliver of truth he gave Uncle Wayne, even now when Eddie was living his fullest life, was very appreciated and reciprocated equally. Uncle Wayne tolerated many things, but his loved ones lying to him was not something he ever tolerated, not even a little bit and not for any reason.

Uncle Wayne inhaled deeply, shook his head just once, and then exhaled. Got down in front of you on his knees and took both of your hands in his. Eddie took the cue and sat down to the side of you which was closest to the door, and wrapped a strong arm around your shoulders, his fingers splayed across your upper arm to touch as much of you as he could in that one moment.

"Work was fine, sweetpea," Uncle Wayne's voice was gruff but again, you and Eddie heard all the kindness in the world. "But I ain't interested in talkin' to you about that, no offense," he chuckled wryly, "I asked you how you are, darlin', an' I want a proper answer. You got my kid all worked up an' that gets me worked up and m'too old and too tired."

"Dad!" Eddie hissed, but Uncle Wayne barely glanced at him. One kid at a time. Eddie had had his time and so now it was your time.

"Talk to us, Y/N. We ain't gonna' judge you here. Y'know that by now."

"Yeah," Eddie agreed easily, leaning his head on your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. You closed your eyes and let yourself sink into Eddie's warmth, "you're safe here, I promise. What's said in this trailer stays in this trailer, 'kay?"

"Mm-hm." You nodded, a stinging at the backs of your eyes and nose telling you that you were going to cry if they carried on. The weight of Eddie pressed against you, the sight of Uncle Wayne on his knees before you, eyes level with yours, tender blues and chocolate buttons giving you equally weighted gazes, Uncle Wayne's hands holding yours tightly, calloused and warm, Eddie's hand rubbing up and down your arm slowly... it was all too much and you almost felt the urge to run away, and yet... this was all you had been wanting.

Uncle Wayne and Eddie.

Eddie and Uncle Wayne.

The Munsons.

The most amazing package deal you had ever received and would ever receive in your life.

"Let's try again." Uncle Wayne squeezed your hands in encouragement. He really wanted to help you, to do the best for you that he could. He loved you like you were one of his kids, and though Eddie would always be his number one, his absolute top priority, Uncle Wayne had a heart bigger than the size of Hawkins and he had room for any kid and every kid who wanted in on his heart. You just had to be open and honest and kind, and you were a part of the family. It was just how Uncle Wayne was, and it was the way Eddie had been raised to be, too. One look at Hellfire Club and Corroded Coffin and anyone could see that Eddie took after his Uncle, his dad, beautifully. He had been raised so magnificently given the circumstances but only the most important people got lucky enough, close enough to see that.

Seamlessly, Eddie picked up his dad's sentence, "you okay?" They knew you needed both of them, and without any foreplanning between them, they were giving you everything you needed and more.

"No," your voice cracked, "No, Eddie. I'm not okay." You risked a glance at Uncle Wayne and that was when you broke. "I'm not okay at all," You hiccuped and then immediately burst into tears. It scared you, your sudden intense display of negative emotion, and that made you cry harder. All those days, weeks, of suffering in silence, trying to do your best while destroying yourself in the process, all that effort and work to keep yourself together when you barely realised that you were falling apart, and all it took in the end to bring you down was the sight of Uncle Wayne looking at you with those eyes you loved so much.

If one look could kill, then another look could save, and between the two Munsons, you would be lifted high above the clouds so that you could see the forest for the trees and thus, find out where to go from here. But not alone. Never alone.

"Whoa, whoa, hey, hey," Eddie cooed, squeezing you tighter into his side as Uncle Wayne raised one ofyour joined hands so that he could use the back of his to dash your tears away. "It's okay, Y/N, we're here, you're safe." Eddie felt guilty about feeling relieved that you had finally shattered.

"I just don't know what to do," tears dripped sore and Uncle Wayne kept his hands in yours as he used the backs of his hands to dash them away; though they were falling faster than he could move but he persisted, kept at it. He never gave up on Eddie, he never had and he never would, and he wasn't about to give up on you either. "I can't do this anymore. M'fuckin'... treading through water, running uphill, walking on the spot... trying so hard and goin' fucking nowhere and I'm sick of it. I don't wanna do this anymore, there's no point and m'tired."

"Storm's ragin' pretty hard, ain't it?"

Your eyes focused in on Uncle Wayne, though you couldn't see him for the tears, and you squeezed your hands inside his unwavering grip. "Uncle Wayne, please." What you were asking for, you knew not, but Uncle Wayne had a wealth of life experience, he had been around and seen a lot, and even with his boy smushed against your side did Uncle Wayne manage to give you a proper hug. You were able to rest your head on his shoulder and Eddie, though he grumbled some, followed you so that he was hunched over next to you, his head on your shoulders, the both of you oneshift away from collapsing atop Uncle Wayne from where he knelt on the floor, but none of you wanted to move. You would follow the Munsons anywhere and that included the floor of the trailer, so long as they kept holding you like they were.

"You're enough, darlin', believe you me. Don't destroy yourself no more, that point you're tryna' make ain't worth it, y'hear?"

"But I - " You straightened up, your back beginning to ache, but Uncle Wayne kept his hands and yours together, his touch your grounding just as much as Eddie's touch was.

"Nope, nope," Eddie waved his hands emphatically, situating himself correctly once more as well on the sofa, "absolutely not. You've been hurting yourself for a month, not letting me in, not taking care of yourself... and for what? I can't watch anymore, Y/N. M'worried and dad is too... just, please, talk to me. I wanna help. No buts." Eddie swept his hand through his hair, his dark curls snagging on his silver rings 'til he got frustrated and yanked his hand free, wincing but paying himself no mind. Eddie was used to rough treatment. "Look, I get it. The Shire is burning, right? Ground's too hot and you can't go up in the trees because they're on fire too and everything's on fire and it feels like you're in Mordor but, sweetheart, you're not. You're here, with me and my Uncle, you're safe."

Eddie's voice was soft, his tone was quiet, his arms back around you, holding you to his side. You rested your head on Eddie's shoulder and turned it to the side, hiding your face in the part of him where leather collar became bare skin, and Uncle Wayne squeezed your hands once more before he let you go, slapping his thighs as he stood up with a suppressed groan. He was too old for this shit but did it anyway because that's who he was. Eddie shushed you when you made a quiet noise of protest at how cold and empty your palms felt without Uncle Wayne's to keep them company, but you felt that same touch on the top of your head; I'm here, Y/N.

"You ain't alone, kid. We're gonna help you, any way we can. But you gotta help us to help you. Talk. Tell us what you need. Hell, show us or write it if you can't say it. I get it," Uncle Wayne shrugged easily, the look on his face one of, what can you do? as he moved through the trailer to go and make some dinner for the three of you. Indeed, he paid neither you nor Eddie any further mind as he set about cooking something and the two of you saw the dismissal for what it was; moving into Eddie's room without any words having to be spoken.

You just knew each other.

It was only when the door was shut behind the both of you that Eddie's bravado dropped, and his hands and lips began to tremble at almost the exact same second as he looked at you, his chocolate eyes glassy with tears.

"You - you had me scared, Y/N, I thought you - " Eddie sniffled, "well, I don't know what I thought, not really, but I've been so worried, sweetheart."

"Oh, Eddie, baby," Your own eyes stung with tears anew as you grabbed Eddie and pulled him into a tight, tight hug, every planes of your bodies aligned as you held each other. One of your arms was around Eddie's waist and the other was around his broad shoulders, your fingers flexing in those dark curls you braided most nights, and both of his arms were locked around you. But his embrace felt less like a cage and more like security. Even at your worst, Eddie loved you as strongly, as fiercely, as he loved you at your best. "M'sorry, honey, really, I - I don't even know why I've been - " You sighed, no longer able to speak. You didn't know how to explain it even to yourself, so how could you explain it to someone else? "I'll try to be better, and talk to you." Eddie nodded and you noticed that your shirt was beginning to feel wet where his face rested against the material, but you didn't call him out on the way he sniffled and stepped ever closer to you, though not even a sheet of paper could have gotten between you at that point. "I love you, Eddie, so much, and I'm sorry I shut you out."

Eddie shook his head, his curls tickling you, and he sniffled. "No more, Y/N. Just promise to talk to me, 'kay? There's no shame in needing help. You're strong enough to weather any storm, I've seen you do it. Every time you thought you couldn't get to Mordor, you did, and putting out the flames in the Shire so you don't have to go anywhere won't be easy, but I can help if you let me, yeah?"

You squeezed Eddie, breathing him in, and the two of you stood there hugging each other in the centre of his messy but clean room like there was nowhere else you would rather be and no one else you would rather be with.

At least, until Uncle Wayne called the both of you through for dinner.

You loved his cooking almost as much as you loved Eddie.

Almost.

You weren't okay, you were a mess. You needed sleep, you needed food, you needed to drink properly, you needed to take better care of yourself so then you could more effectively and efficiently manage your responsibilities and take better care of your mental health by way of being significantly less stressed. It was overwhelming and you wanted to give up before you had even started, but you had the Munsons to guide you through situations you got yourself into, whether they were or were not your fault, and they would do their best to help you no matter what it took. For you were a Munson, and Munsons never quit.

Even and especially when they most wanted to.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson soft #stranger things 4 x reader #stranger things x reader #uncle wayne #wayne munson #eddie munson

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